#she just found out someone else declared war on her

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Demon Knight: Odel

[I plan on making a part 2, I just needed to write something, to begin with!]

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Part 1  |   Part 2

Ad Laetitiam et Pacem

“It is set in ink. I will not hear anymore else of it,” your father, the King declared. “You will marry Lord Meriweather’s son by the arrival of spring.”

Perhaps in the hopes of pleasing your father, you would have heeded to words, to remain dutiful as princess of the realm and make your family proud.

That same night when you heard of your fate, you prepared to dress comfortably in a washerwoman’s ensemble, before slipping out the high window.

To hell with the arrangement, I would rather live a life of celibacy. This fate will not ruin my life.

The third daughter out of six and the eighth out of eleven living children, you had many brothers and sisters older that would be set for better matches from well-known lords and ladies. Yet, you were not put to become queen or to be married off to a wealthy lord, you were assigned to marry a minor lordling, his youngest son feeble and health ailing.

Of all the four sons of Lord Meriweather’s brood, you had to be matched with one with no proper destiny. Hugh was sickly and frail, not a knight or the heir to his father’s land, he was predestined to nothingness, and upon your first meeting with him, you snidely advised he was better suited to abstinence than to displeasing his future wife.

To your dissatisfaction, it had to be you that would be disappointed.

The moonlight acted as your only guide as you run blindly through the streets of the capital. Dead of life with only a few patrolling, you were able to squeeze into dark shadows, ducking and weaving before you found yourself on the outskirts of the capital. Its high, towering walls were manned, but you covered your face with your hood, ducking your head as you run out, away from the life you knew.

The adrenaline pumped swiftly in your chest, and a sense of freedom was overwhelming as the smile broadened on your face, racing your body as fast as you could through the woods.

Months of planning had come underway, and the only place you knew would be deserted; was Whitehaven Hold.

Your other option could’ve been to stay with your older sister, Alinor. Eight years your senior, she was married at eight-and-ten to a well-known and comely lord, giving him babes a year into their marriage.

Father will know I will go to her. You knew it would be a rooky mistake. He knew how much you loved your sister, how you missed her dearly after she was sent away to live the rest of her days in someone else’s castle.

Your older brother, Cassius was four-and-twenty, acting as a scholar in the south, but they did not accept women to the life of academics. No, it would’ve been harder to dress as a man to be accepted into his school.

It was a day or two away, and you spent your nights by a fire, rummaging for food and keeping what stale biscuits you hid in your dress pockets. You lay, wide awake, with no knowledge of where exactly you could go next.

The morning came easily when you arrived at the sight, a smouldering heat and smoke billowing from the mess in front of you.

Whitehaven Hold was a twisted, horrid sight. The battlements for a two-hundred-year war, its walls were burnt and destroyed, the stone had crumpled as it burnt and melted like candles, thousands burning inside. It acts as a haunted sight for travellers, with no Lord or Lady sane enough to reside there.

You entered through the battered doors, cold and damp easily enveloped you as you shuddered, looking around. It had been quickly looted of items by travellers, with not a sight of heirlooms or gold in sight. What remained was tattered and worn furniture, rooms dark and clammy and all the very same.

I’m not staying here before I lose my mind. You thought in disgust, but the thought of residing brought you to chuckle. The Lady of Whitehaven Hold- imagine the look on father’s face. It would not be good to stay a day or two before the cold enters your system and bring the chill quickly. It ached in your chest, not knowing where you could go next. South, always south. Away from it all.

The rooms were simple and easy to roam, a large, broken dining hall, fit for a Lord, wife and many heirs, its kitchen located on the far side. The table was battered and disarrayed, little to nothing scattered that remained of contents of food and dirt. You continued, walking past the cold entrance, up towards what remained of the grand staircase.

Spotting at the very top, are three displays of suits of armour, posing in similar positions. Their hands were positioned to have a greatsword in their hands, but only one remained in the grasp, the one in the middle.

You observed its armour, shinier and similar to molten black obsidian, it gleamed as if recently polished. You flicked your finger across the armour, its armour hummed low as you dragged across its armour to inspect for dirt.

“Hmph, just as I thought. A collectable.” You scoffed, wiping the grime from your finger as you stared up into its helm. The helmet was a beautiful display, gleaming in brilliance, except when you looked into the eyeless sockets of its eyes, something was not supposed to be there.

Eyes staring back. Alit with burning, enraged flames.

“There is little of me that I would class as a collectable,” a low, rumbling voice boomed, startling you rigid. You stepped back, towards the staircase, watching in horror. The talon-like fingers twitched momentarily, before another jolted with life, the whole hand was soon moving with existence.

The suit of armour slowly and lazily tested its movements, its long leg swung forward, groaning and choking as the armour moved. His fiery stare was towards you, raging with anger. “You are not meant to be here. You are trespassing.”

“No one lives here.”

“The Lord of Whitehaven Hold resides here, and I must protect my Lord from all.”

To your surprise, his fingers jerked to grip the hilt of his deadly sword tighter, a flash of silver startled you as he unsheathed the mighty weapon, before you were staggering, sprinting back down the stairs, hearing the squeaks of worn armour following hotly behind.

Leaving through the front door was an easier move, but with adrenaline pumping quickly in your chest. You stumbled and fell, your body kicking to keep moving, to hide, to do anything to get away from the deadly sword.

Something swung just behind you, a scream bubbling over you as his sword got caught into the wall, clinging with a hiss as it hit the wall and avoid taking a chunk out of you. You continued to run, in hopes you could find anywhere to hide, but no matter, the knight was hot on your tail.

You swept around the table, the knight rounding the other side, eyes flaming with the sword ready to swing before something caught his eye, something behind you. His sword lowered as he took in the damaged painting behind you, and you too turned to see what it was he was looking over.

The painting was of no doubt, the old Lord of Whitehaven Hold, yet he had been the first and last during the two-hundred-year war, murdered by conspirators who took over his castle after their coup.

There was a sadness that filled the knight’s eyes, lowering his sword, his entire demeanour changed to become defeated. “He’s gone?” His voice was gravelly and soft.

“He was murdered two-hundred years ago,” you spoke carefully, still gazing periodically towards the silver of his large sword. “There has not been another lord of this Hold since.”

The knight did not answer for a moment, looking at the painting with a solemn gaze that was so vivid without seeing the rest of his face. “Oh,” was the only word he spoke, before he sheathed his sword, marching back and away from the hall, back up towards the stairs.

“Hey, where are you going?” You stared in disbelief, uneasily tailing behind him a few feet. You watched how he climbed the stairs stiffly, moving back towards his display.

“I am no longer needed,” he spoke quietly. “I am free from my pact.”

“Pact from what?”

“The pact grants anyone who rules this hold the protection and my sword.” He moved towards to set himself in his display once more, propping the sword out to rest between his hands once more. You were by the bottom of the stairs, cautiously standing there. “I am no longer needed.”

Your cheeks heated the same way a child would grow in a tantrum. “Well, what if I became the next resident?”

His eyes peered over you, wide and in incredulously. “You’re a mere washerwoman.”

You remembered your clothing, the ones you snuck out in, and you knew you had no way of making him believe you. “Would you believe me if I said I was a Princess—and runaway one?”

He scoffed light-heartedly. “You’re rather funny, aren’t you?”

“I am!” You insisted. “My father is the current King, Cassius XV. My oldest brother is Crown Prince Isolde. My mother, Queen Adora, was forty when she passed, giving birth to my youngest sister, Margarita.” You told him your name, the one you despised using.

He did not answer once again, yet he seemed amused. “Anyone could know that of the current rulers.”

“I can read that,” you pointed towards the small display name, written in the old language of Ald, passed down to royalty and nobles to keep alive. “Would a washerwoman know about the culture and language of Ald? Would a washerwoman even know how to read?”

“Maybe so,” he assessed warily. “What is a princess like yourself doing out here?”

“My father wished to have me married off.”

He inquired amusedly. “You ran away from your betrothal? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing before.”

“You don’t know many princesses.” You muttered.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “It is known many Princesses of the past have been fond of comely knights and princes from far lands. It would be their dream to be married off.”

“Hugh Meriweather looks more weasel than man.”

The knight looked perplexed, but he did chuckle at your words. “Weasel, you say? I’m unsure there is some tale of a Princess and a weasel.”

Fairy tales are nightmares in reality. Just stories to keep girls happy. You thought. “It isn’t some fairy tale. I have no say in who I can love.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “That is why I’m here. Running away from the fate destined for me; misery, squeezing out babes and dying from childbed fever. You wouldn’t have to worry about being wedded off, you’re just a piece of talking armour.”

The silence that followed your passing words made you realise that you may have overstepped. You peered over at him, and though his face was shielded, you could tell your words had insulted him.

“You’re talking to a piece of talking armour.” He jeered and your cheeks had rouged once more in embarrassment. “What then, little Princess? You believe your father would not find you here?”

“He can sure try to.” You huffed. “I will not leave here.”

If he had eyebrows, you could be sure he had a face of exasperation. “You think you’ll have protection here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re here.”

“I’m free from my pact, however.” He recalled.

“What about forming a pact with me? It can’t be that bad.” You said excitedly, too naively to think anything of it. You’ve had knights in service of protecting you your entire life: how different could this be?

“Princess,” his voice was laced with unease. “If you go ahead with this, you will need to sacrifice something of your life.”

Your silence was a tell-tell sign that you were uncertain. Sacrifice something, like what? You thought about the things you had to you: you had no titles to own, no claim to the throne, so you couldn’t give that up (you doubted you would’ve if you did own one). It seemed like an easy deal, yet nothing came to mind for you to give in return, until—

“I shall give you my hand in marriage.”

The knight recoiled almost as if he had been burnt in his ink-black armour, his demeanour changed to seem hesitant, almost incredulous to your offer. “What about Hugh the weasel? You don’t think I’m a married man already?” He asked.

“You wouldn’t be here if you were already married now, would you? You would be with your lady wife.”

He seemed pleased by your words, stepping forth towards you, around the table, before he was standing in front of you. His full height towered easily over you, and you imagined what he looked like without the helmet on him.

“I, swear by my name and honour, to protect and keep you in my stay, for as long as you may live. I am yours, Princess," he says. "I will shield your back and give you my life in the moment of need.”

You easily presented your hand to him to take into his, there was warmth oddly in his armoured fingers, and his obsidian suit of armour hummed and almost felt as if it was burning up on the inside before the knight brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.

“Arise, sir-“

“Odel. Sir Odel.”

#demon #demon oc #demon boyfriend #demon knight #princess reader #female reader #monster writing #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #demon monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster lover

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War: III

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: blood, descriptions of wounds, an old friend shows up. feelings! attempted fluff. mind the english🐸!

A/N: this GIF is my new fixation and i will not stop posting it in a long time so be advised 🤩 things are hitting the fan next chapter💗as usual thx for reading 🍁🩵

Masterlist✨Masterpost

"𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔?"

Heavy boots, a ragged breathing caused by adrenaline and the sound of his heart thumping inside his ears, those are the things that Ghost can hear as he approaches the white van. Price shouts behind him but he can't make out what he's saying.

The blood... crimson blood that spills from her wounds is frightening. He's a man accustomed to witness horrible things. Seen the worst the world had to offer. Experienced in the flesh what evil can do to a human being. And simply because the woman that he holds in his arms is supposed to be his enemy that didn't mean he wanted to see her bleed out to death. Especially when they learned the truth.

Ghost had a moral code. Things he never wanted to see people go through despite being consequential to their own decisions. She had decided to join the army. She had decided to join the Shadow Company. It was bound to happen. Still it was hard for him.

That very moral code was to not hurt women nor children under any circumstances, and may God —if it even existed— help him when he'd have no other choice.

"Open the fucking door!" He yells, accent becoming more prominent; the door instantly sliding open, readjusting her near dead body in his arms to get them inside. "Gaz, give me everything you have." He commands the Sergeant, who's quick to open his medical pouches as well as the first aid kit they had loaded just in case someone needed it. The eyes of the woman flutter shut and then open slightly again, drifting back and forth between consciousness and the arms of the reaper. Ghost barks again at Gaz, so he helps him undoing the straps of her vest so he can check the wound properly.

"There's another one on her leg, Lt." he points out, moving around him as much as he can with the vehicle moving. With no time to waste he rips the lower part of his shirt, long and wide enough for his Sergeant to work. "Tourniquet , now." Gaz nods, at the harsh and cold commands of his superior. He then turns, lifting her shirt to inspect the wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her stomach, he notices sucking in a sharp breath; part of Ghost wonders who could've been the one who shot her? What if it was him? Taking the disinfectant from the kit he poured a generous amount on her wound. Her face scrunched, lips pouting and a low whine leaves her mouth. "Sorry about that, kid." He muttered, before pressing down on her wound every single gauze he found only to slowly start tainting red. He knew well she couldn't hear him her mind far away from where she physically was.

"We're back." one of the Vaqueros announced, as the van comes to an abrupt stop.

"We need to get her to the helo as soon as possible. She's lost too much blood." Price orders.

The three men get down, military doctors rush to them.

"We'll take it from here." One of them declares, patting Ghost on the shoulder, he nearly growls.

"Let's go. This isn't finished yet."

So Price dragged him in the opposite direction where they were taking her. He didn't know if she'll make it. But that was everything they'd do for her.

-

Stepping out of the room, showered and changed into comfortable sporting clothes you look around for Ghost. The safe house is silent. Deadly silent.

You wonder if he's even here, and you wonder if escaping would be a good idea. But as for now this was everything you had, at least a bed to sleep and a roof above your head. Sighing you walk to the kitchen just to find it as empty as the rest of the rooms.

The chilly air of late November causes your skin to erupt in goosebumps the moment you step outside, the backyard stretches farther away in the distance and as if on cue, the tall broad form of the Lieutenant appears walking through massive pines, wearing nothing but the jacket and his mask.

Ghost gradually stops when his eyes land on you standing still right outside the back door, arms crossed over your chest to protect you from the weather. He remains silent for a long minute before taking another

step closer.

"All set. Come with me." He orders you.

Biting on your lower lip, stopping your mouth from saying something you'll regret.

"Are you always this bossy?" Despite not liking his tone you oblige and begin to follow as he turns on his heels. If your question annoys him he doesn't let it show in fact he ignores you completely. "Where are we going, Ghost?"

Suddenly a wave of fear washes over you, steps faltering, hands shaking ever so slightly. What if this was it? The end of everything. You didn't want to believe Ghost could kill you like you were nothing you just don't do that to someone you've taken care of for the past month. Why bothering? Why tending to your wounds and worrying for your wellbeing, even if he was forced to do it. You wanted to believe that at least he didn't hate you. Not the way he hated your former Commander. You thought something had changed between the two. He had seemed more relaxed around you; like he somehow had lowered his defenses around you.

"Silence." he hushes you in a low mutter. "M'not gonna kill you if that's what you're worried about."

His words are cold and measured, as if he doesn't want to be here at all and the feeling, the knowledge that you're a burden to him makes your heart ache. A tiny pang of sadness that that's all you've ever been. All you could ever hope to be. So you ball your clench your hands, head hanging low when the so familiar lump in your throat becomes unbearable.

Both of you make it to a clearing, birds faintly chirping on the horizon. The sun no longer greets you, a storm announces itself with heavy clouds appearing in the sky above.

And then you're not alone. Another person stands in the middle. Hands clasped behind. Your heart skips a beat.

The only person that cares enough to save you. Blonde hair in a low tight bun.

Kate turns around, eyes going wide when she finally sees you. She's about to say something but words die because you're practically running to her, ignoring Ghost's warnings on being careful.

A smile appears on her face when you finally hug her and tears roll down your cheeks.

"What took you so long?" You sniffle. Kate's arms hold you tighter.

"I came as soon as I could. Forgive me, Vesper."

Shaking your head you try to stop the tears. It's honestly humiliating but she's known you since you joined the military. Kate Laswell was the closest thing you had to a family just like Graves. "I hope Lieutenant Riley has been good to you."

You huff, making her chuckle.

"He's taken care of me. For that I am grateful."

So now you knew more about him.

Riley.

Better than just a callsign. And it suited him.

Ghost stands a few feet away, despite this being a secure area he can't afford himself to relax. He can still hear everything you say to each other.

He can hear you crying on her shoulder and bloody hell if that didn't made him feel all sorts of distressed. It was a rare thing. Something he wouldn't have thought when he first scooped you up back on that forgotten highway.

But he guesses that happens when you spend too much time with someone you were supposed to look after. It didn't help that just last night you had asked him to stay the night in your room. All kinds of wrong.

Although he had refused he could sense what was happening and he needed to stop it. Getting attached wasn't part of the plan, and it would end terribly.

Deep in his thoughts he misses the look you send him.

"He really is something else." You murmur to Kate who keeps you know at arms length. "If it wasn't for you, I'm sure they'd have killed me." A sad smile appears on your lips.

"Let's not think about what happened darling, but rather what's gonna happen, yeah? Things have taken... a turn. No, hear me out." She says, interrupting you with a soft smile. "You're not alone. Never have been." Another quick glance at Ghost confirms the both of you that he's heard you.

"You know I don't like it when you say mysterious things, Kate." She sighs, giving you another hug although this one isn't as long as the first.

"Trust me. That's all I'm asking, and hey..." he levels you with a serious look. "Ghost may seem frightening but he's a good man." A low confession that doesn't reach his ears. Your cheeks turn red and you don't know why, leaving you mortified when she notices.

"Yeah..." you mumble.

"I don't have much more time. There's matters that require my attention but you'll hear from me again sooner than you think."

-

"What's that stance?" He gruffly asks as he stands next to you, eyes sliding up and down your body. His arms are tightly crossed over his broad chest. You turn to look up to him and away from the scope of your sniper rifle, blinking rapidly not understanding the disapproving look in his brown eyes.

"Uh, this is how I shoot Ghost." You answer like it was obvious what you were doing. You notice the way he furrow his brows beneath the balaclava.

"Bloody Christ." He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He comes behind you. "Widen your stance." He kicks one of your foot so it slides along the dirty soil.

Yelping you lose balance for a second before he steadies you with a strong hand to your waist.

"Hey! What was that about?"

Ghost tilts his head eyes narrowing.

"That stance was utter shite. Your legs were not separated enough, you'd get knocked down easily by a waft of air."

"I've been doing it like this forever."

"Well you've been doing it wrong."

"But that's..." squinting your eyes you stare at him, fuming. "My legs are not as long as yours, they're like five damn kilometers long." Ghost snorts. "What's so funny?"

"Shocked you know what a kilometer is." Shaking your head you decide to ignore him and readjust the grip on the rifle. "One of his best soldiers, I heard." He points out. He returns to his spot next to you, trying not to think of how you felt under his touch.

"You've never seen someone like me, Lieutenant Riley."

Ghost freezes, heart skipping a beat at the way you say his name. It's soft and endearing. He watches you closely, you're focused on the target one eye closed and the other fixed on the green bottle.

Breathing slowly and steadily, the exact moment when the sky rumbles you press the trigger. The bullet sound echoes through the lone forest as it hits the target, sending birds flying away from their nests. A wide grin makes its way to your lips, turning to look a Ghost who remains silent merely watching the near-perfect shot, the average size bottle shattered in a thousands pieces.

"Bullseye." you comment in a casual tone. "Your turn."

Offering him the rifle you stare at each other for a long time before he shakes his head, refusing to take it.

"Mine's better." Unfazed by his refusal you wait as he goes to the black duffel bag that he previously placed on an old wooden table. He takes out his preferred weapon. Your was... lethal, but his own, the sheer size and way it was customized for him left you speechless. You even doubted you'd be able to hold it still. "And just so you know." coming back to where he was, Ghost readies himself but not before taking off his leather jacket. Only left with his black hoodie he offers you the jacket, eyes serious. Hesitating for a second before grabbing it and putting it on, it smells like him. It's soft and warm around your body. "We're going out tomorrow."

His body prepares to take the recoil of the gun. Yet another perfect shot is made that day; body barely moving, barely flinching when he fires. You hold your breath at the sound of shattering glass and then everything goes silent. Ghost turns to look you in the face, the way his clothes hang around your body swallowing you whole. A sight he finds himself liking too much for his own bloody good.

"Taking me out on a date I see." His lips twitch although you can't see it. "Where to?" You ask rolling your eyes.

Laying down the weapon he motions you to follow him back inside, he'd clean up afterwards.

"Your first mission. Laswell wants you back asap." The air gets stuck in your throat. "Don't look at me like that. We could use a good soldier. And don't worry too much. I'm coming with."

Teaming up with Ghost was the last thing you thought would happen in your lifetime, even if you had before needlessly to say not directly. For all you knew, they considered you a hostile for your connections with the Shadow Company. But your commander was off the equation. Gone forever.

With a final glance to your way he starts to cook dinner for two so you join him.

Your new life starts now.

-

"When does this end, Laswell?" He asks her, it's not that he doesn't want to be around the girl. That is exactly why he's desperate to put an end to this, enjoying her company wasn't a part of the plan.

She breathes the cool air, and tries to calm him.

"Don't tell me you've grown to care about her, Lieutenant."

Ghost doesn't answer but the CIA agent notices the way his shoulders tense.

Part 4

#cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost modern warfare #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare fanfiction #cod mwiii #modern warefare iii #modern warefare 3 #call of duty imagine #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 3

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p7

chapter 7: we crashed and burned

warnings - none at all

series masterlist

The Silverstone crowd roared as the grid lights went out. Y/N, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs, launched off the line with a blistering start. Having lived in the UK for most of her life, it was her home. This was it. Her home race, her first real shot at a win.

However, qualifying hadn't been kind. A gearbox glitch had left her in P4, frustration gnawing at her. Up ahead, Lewis, the ever-dominant force, sat comfortably in P1. The radio crackled in her ear, Liam's voice calm and collected. "Keep your head down, Y/N. We'll get our chance."

Y/N gritted her teeth, focusing on the race ahead. From the very first corner, she displayed her aggressive driving style, surgically carving her way through the pack. A risky overtake on Bottas here, a daring move on Ricciardo there – Y/N was on a mission.

By lap 15, she had clawed her way up to P2, breathing down Lewis's neck. The tension in the air crackled, the crowd sensing a brewing battle. Y/N pushed her car to the limit, matching Lewis turn for turn.

Lewis, frustrated by her relentless pursuit, made a critical error in judgment. He pitted early, a gamble that backfired spectacularly. Y/N, seizing this golden opportunity, stretched her lead. The Red Bull garage erupted in cheers as she crossed the finish line, checkered flag waving, a first-place victory secured.

The champagne shower was bittersweet. Yes, she had won, but the joy was tinged with a sense of unease. A clip of Lewis's furious radio message, broadcasted after his failed pit strategy, had gone viral. "What a stupid fucking move! She's a cheat, just like her brother!"

Y/N's smile faded. Her phone buzzed incessantly. Twitter was a storm of angry comments, fueled by Lewis's outburst. Tears pricked at her eyes. This wasn't how she'd envisioned her first win. The Lewis she'd known, the playful boy she'd shared video game afternoons with, was a distant memory.

The other drivers, sensing her distress, gathered around her, offering congratulations and words of encouragement. Max, ever the blunt one, scoffed. "Don't listen to that loser, Y/N. You earned that win fair and square."

Lando chimed in, his voice gentle. "Lewis will get over it. He just hates seeing someone else on the podium."

Y/N forced a smile, her voice choked with emotion. "Thanks, guys." But the victory felt hollow. The playful rivalry she'd secretly harbored a spark for had morphed into something toxic and consuming. As she walked away, a single tear rolled down her cheek, a silent testament to a shattered dream.

Fury simmered in Nico's eyes as he stormed into Y/N's garage. The radio message, the hateful words Lewis had spewed – they were a declaration of war, not just on Y/N, but on their entire family. He found Y/N huddled with Max and Lando, a brave smile plastered on her face.

"Y/N," Nico's voice was a low growl. "That message…"

Y/N waved him off, her smile faltering. "Don't worry about it, Nico. Lewis is just… Lewis."

Max scoffed. "Just Lewis? That was disgusting! You drove brilliantly, Y/N. You deserved that win."

Y/N offered a weak smile. "Thanks, Max. I appreciate it."

Across the paddock, Lewis watched the interaction unfold. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut as he saw Nico comfort Y/N, wiping away a stray tear that escaped her determined facade. The playful banter, the shared laughter of their childhood – it seemed a lifetime ago. He had let the rivalry consume him, turning a sweet memory into a bitter enemy.

Later that evening, Y/N exited the restroom, her face drawn. Lewis, who had been washing his hands, froze. He knew he owed her an apology, a genuine one. He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N brushed past him, ignoring his presence altogether.

"Y/N, wait," he pleaded. "I need to apologize for what I said. It was…"

Y/N stopped, her back stiff. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. The dam broke when Lewis spoke again.

"It was unprofessional and disrespectful," he continued, his voice low. "You are a phenomenal driver, Y/N, and you deserve every bit of your success."

She spun around, her voice trembling with unshed tears. "Don't you dare," she choked out. "Don't you dare act like you fucking care now. You and Nico… you fell out, you started hating each other so deeply that... you stopped being in each others lives. And I had to watch him lose a best friend, and in the process, I lost you. I cried for days when you stopped talking to him, Lewis. And you know what? You didn't even call or text me one time. Not when everyone on Twitter called me a nepo baby, not when I got into that crash in F2. Not when the entire racing community said that I didn't deserve a place because i was a woman. You were part my whole world. My. Whole. Fucking. Universe. And it was so easy for you to leave and cut me out. So no Lewis. I'm not giving in this time because as much as you claim to be Mister. Nice Guy I know your reality and it is the fact that you didn't care one bit."

Lewis felt the floor drop out from under him. He had no right to be surprised. He had pushed Y/N away, collateral damage in his war with Nico. The pain etched on her face mirrored the forgotten ache in his own heart.

"Y/N…" he stammered, his voice heavy with regret. But the words died in his throat. He had hurt her, pushed her away, and apologizing now felt hollow in the face of his past actions.

Y/N wiped away a tear, her voice laced with a steely resolve. "Save it, Lewis. The damage is done." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lewis alone with the weight of his remorse.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

#sir lewis hamilton #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes #y/n #lando norris #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #red bull racing #f1 x you #fia #female driver #nico rosberg #brocedes #sewis #ava speaks #lh #lh44 #lh44xreader #lh44imagines #lh44 oneshot #lh44 x reader #lh44 x y/n #lh44 x rosberg

[aphroditesmoon]

cherry pit

wenclair x @doxyali /part elf!oc

summary: tickling isn't so fun when you're on the receiving end.

warnings: fem!reader/oc, african american reader/oc, requested by @doxyali

a/n: you can read it as an x reader too<3

°°°

The two girls have given up in trying to figure Rose out, being part elf means she was harder to read than most. She only has certain elfish traits, and the other are humans.

And despite inheriting her mother's pointed ears, the sensitivity of it laid somewhere else.

It started when Rose had found out that Enid was extremely ticklish on her neck, since then it was endless torture for the werewolf, always fighting againts her girl's hands snaking onto her neck.

Wednesday was safe for now, having hid her weaknesses well, she only indulges in the suffering of Enid.

This to the blonde, had meant war.

She had lost sleep and wasted time trying to figure out her death spot, from her ears to her toes, but to no avail was it figured out.

"Give up Enid, I'm invincible." Rose teased with wide grin, lying on her back on the bed.

Enid growls and slumps herself next to her.

"You are not invincible." Wednesday declared.

"Enid just haven't tried hard enough."

The werewolf rolled her eyes. "That's brave coming from someone who doesn't even want to participate."

The raven haired girl gives them a rare smirk and shook her head, going back to her typewriter.

That night, Rose laid on her right side with her back againts Enid's chest. Their hands intertwined as she slightly toss and turn, unable to sleep.

Enid groans and releases her hand, letting it fall to her waist, grazing her stomach.

The elf flinched and gripped Enid's hand, pulling it away from her belly. "That tickles, stop it." She grunted in her sleep.

The room was silent for a second before Enid slowly moves her hand back to the spot.

Rose snaps up and glares at her sleepily, "I will bite your nose off." You warns. "I didn't do anything!" She replied with a big grin.

The elfling sighed and walked up towards Wednesday's bed, rolling in next to the sleeping girl.

Closing her eyes despite Enid's protest, she turns her face down in the pillow to resume her sleeping, only to feel Wednesday's hands creep at her belly button.

Rose jumps awake and curses loudly, feeling the girl smile againts her shoulder as her hands move to tickle her.

"Stop-" Her words turns into a bubbles of laughter as Wednesday pushes her down and starts tickling her.

"We've figured it out." She stated as Enid jumps on from her bed, both of them holding her down and torturing her poor stomach.

"Stop- I'm going to die-" She breathed out, still giggling. "I survived your tickling, you'll do just fine." Enid said matter of fact-ly and snorted.

Rose manage to toss a pillow from her head at Wednesday's face, hearing a yelp from her as her hand releases the tickling. She takes the chance to roll of the bed, only to fall off with Enid as well. Both rolling on the ground as she tries to get to her bellybutton.

Wednesday joins in on the ground as revenge for the pillow slam and in the rarest of times, she was smiling throughout the whole night.

#wenclair x you #wenclair x reader #wenclair fanfic #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday netflix

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Messy/Jumbled Thoughts On Azula in the Spirit Temple

Obviously my initial reaction to it was not particularly glowing and excited to say the least. But after some discord chatting and discussion with my IRL friend I have come to conclude very solidly that I have no idea how to feel about this one. And I'm genuinely not sure if Hicks was trying to make Azula sympathetic or trying to make her completely irredeemable.

So one of the things that makes it confusing to me is how Azula declares that she does not want redemption because it is for the weak. And how she chooses to end by saying that she'd just find new followers to control. Off the bat to me that just felt like a nail in the coffin. A solid she's not getting redeemed.

But then my IRL friend pointed out that she started the comic by declaring that she was going to take revenge on her ex-companions. But ended up finding them and choosing to leave them alone instead.

To me this kind of felt like a massive cope on Azula's end like the equivelent of "fine, I didn't need you guys anyways! I'll find new *~better~* friends!" Like a way of masking how upset it made her to see them having fun without her. Or that she's in denial about how much it hurts.

But my IRL friend thinks that her choosing to just let them be is a sign that there was some progress made despite her declaring that she didn't want redemption.

Which leads to some of the discord discussion that I found insightful. Someone (let me know if you want me to name you) pointed out that pretty much all of the comic was the spirit showing Azula her own inner thoughts; in other words Azula was calling herself a monster and a bad person and what not.

Which, honestly, could be why the comic felt so confusing and disjointed??? Azula is confused and conflicted and we're seeing this through her eyes so it's conflicting and disjointed.

Azula has enough awareness to know that she's not a good person and that some stuff is her fault but she also acknowledges that she's not entirely to blame. I'm talking about 'Ursa' asking Azula what she is and Azula responding "alone, betrayed over and over..." and declaring that it's basically not her fault vs 'Mai' saying "maybe you're a terrible person who gets what she deserves."

Baring in mind that this is a manifestation of Azula's thoughts; she simultaneously sees herself as a victim and as a bad person.

And honestly I can actually see that making sense; people tend to be their own harshest critics. All abuse cases are different but many abuse victims blame themselves while also acknowledging that the abuser is to blame at the same time.

I feel like it's actually not entirely off base for someone in Azula's situations to have conflicting thoughts. Facing yourself for who you are, including (and especially) the worst parts of yourself is not easy. It is embarrassing even in ones own mind to admit wrongdoing. Almost everyone has that one embarrassing memory that still makes them blush when they remember it while lying alone at 2AM. It's sort of like that but worse. It is hard to put aside pride and ego even in privet. Now try doing that with a spirit watching and judging you.

Azula is facing down the worst parts of herself in an almost physical sense. And I think that she doesn't know who to blame or how to portion out the blame. Like she has difficulty telling how much of it is her fault vs how she was raised. Out of her mouth is all of the stuff about how its everyone else's fault. But then the manifestations of her thoughts say the exact opposite. She is literally at war with herself.

And she's scared and she lashes out when she's scared. She covers fear and insecurity with either anger or nonchalance. So when 'Zuko' asks her to repent so to speak, of course she says no. She's effectively being backed into a corner. She's on the defensive. And also 'Zuko' has taken on a monstrous and terrifying form. I wouldn't not shoot lightning at that.

Not to mention that, the entire time Azula is talking about how the spirit is manipulating her and that none of it is real. I imagine that, that makes it that much harder to face herself because she's effectively being gaslit in a sense. Like it doesn't feel real to her, she doesn't trust it--rightfully so tbh. She says that she thinks she is being lied to. Of course she isn't being open minded to what she is being shown. It isn't being done in good faith.

I think that my biggest hang up is how she was 'offered redemption'. Putting that in air quotes because was that really a chance at redemption? The spirit didn't put her in a situation conducive to meaningful change. To me it was almost just one more added trauma on top of what she was already dealing with. It's basically similar to Azula going to see a therapist but the therapist is terrible at their job and digs up trauma while offering no coping skills nor advice.

Instead of giving her advice or support this spirit tries to terrify/shock Azula into changing. This spirit put Azula massively on the defense and wondered why she was getting defensive. Literally all of her traumas, fears, and triggers were being thrown in her face and she was supposed to make something of it?

I'm no therapist but I'm pretty sure that that's not how change works.

Azula was getting yelled at and shamed for not wanting to change or acknowledge that she needs to. But the spirit who was trying to 'help' didn't give her ANYTHING to work with. No words of encouragement or coping tools. Nothing but showing her things that terrified and upset her.

It's like trying to teach someone who is afraid of water to swim by throwing them into the ocean and getting mad when (after being pulled out of the water) they come out more terrified than they were prior.

And this is what confuses me about how AitST is supposed to be interpreted. Are we supposed to see the spirit as the asshole or Azula as stubborn? I know how I see it, but how did Hicks intend it to be portrayed?

This was supposed to be the 'see if Azula is going to start her redemption path once and for all' comic. But was she TRUELY even offered a redemption? Because I don't think so. To me that was just Azula getting another layer of trauma to work through. And nothing about that situation she was in could even be remotely conducive to meaningful/long term change.

Speaking on my own experience alone; change and habit breaking, becoming one's best self while facing down their worst requires a few things; comfort, encouragement, support, enthusiasm, and stability.

Azula was terrified, alone, uncomforted, antagonized, and cornered. She was in a setting exactly the opposite of what is needed when someone is trying to make a change or do some hard introspection.

And now I'm left wondering if Hicks meant for the spirit to be seen as the asshole or if the comic was trying to say, 'look she chose not to walk the path to redemption.'

Right now it feels like they're gonna take the easy way out and leave her as the villain and point to the comic and say, 'see, she had her chance.' To which I say, "Did she? Did she actually?" But who knows maybe we are supposed to see that spirit as an unhelpful and evil. Maybe her walking away and not taking the vengeance she vowed is a good sign.

TL;DR: How the hell is this even supposed to be interpreted. What is the tone??? Is this Azula sympathetic or anti-Azula. Because I genuinely can't tell.

Never have I been so confused about a thing I have read.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #azula in the spirit temple #azula meta #spoilers

[esther-dot]

i've been thinking about all the rhaegar/lyanna theories (did she go willingly or was she kidnapped, etc.) and one thing i don't think gets discussed often enough is the time lag between when lyanna disappeared and when jon was conceived.

jon was born more than a year and a half after lyanna disappeared (she disappeared at the beginning of 282 AC, and he was born mid-to-late 283 AC). that means that he was conceived roughly a year after lyanna's disappearance. that year included the deaths of her father and brother at rhaegar's father's hand, rhaegar's father calling for the head of her second brother, a continent-wide war that rhaegar was taking no part in, rhaegar apparently having no contact with elia and taking no measures to protect her and her children, and lyanna being stuck in a random tower in the middle of nowhere.

whatever lyanna felt at the time of her disappearance, i simply can't conceive that she felt positively toward rhaegar one year later, at the time that jon was conceived. i just don't see her being a wholehearted participant in jon's conception. i think "lyanna left willingly" and "lyanna was raped" could both be true.

Ah, now that is an important detail. It certainly is hard to believe Lyanna was willing at that point. But that reminds me of the entire Knight of the Laughing Tree side of this convo, that I neglected to mention.

It was a good story, Bran decided after thinking about it a moment or two. "Then what happened? Did the Knight of the Laughing Tree win the tourney and marry a princess?"

"No," said Meera. "That night at the great castle, the storm lord and the knight of skulls and kisses each swore they would unmask him, and the king himself urged men to challenge him, declaring that the face behind that helm was no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seat, only two champions appeared. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. The king was wroth, and even sent his son the dragon prince to seek the man, but all they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree. It was the dragon prince who won that tourney in the end." (ASOS, Bran II)

So someone who deactivated once told me that their supposition was that Rhaegar sided with Lyanna over his father here. He found out it was her, promised not to tell, gave her the roses to honor her. To everyone else it was offensive / signaled romantic intent, to Lyanna, it could have been taken as an acknowledgment of her skills/what she'd done. That would have allowed Rhaegar to earn her trust, ingratiate himself, but also, signaled a break with his father.

We don't know how he framed things to her later, if he hyped up his plan to get rid of his dad, if he led her to believe he'd actually truly broken with his father and wouldn't side with him/fight against her family, if he convinced her he was as much a hapless victim as she had felt she was. Taking her all the way to Dorne could have been part of convincing her he was helping her escape her marriage, and that he was escaping his father. Depending, he could have created a lot of space between him and his dad. And then of course, in canon, when Robb believes he's lost Rickon and Bran, he seeks comfort in someone's arms.

Now, I'm not saying that is what happened, but there are ways to write this story without forcible rape, and based on how Rhaegar is characterized, I think that's where Martin would try to land. I do think she was a prisoner at some point, I think this is a Rhaegar-critical story, but I'm not sure that Martin is going in that particular direction.

There is also that first convo about Lyanna:

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." "I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her." (AGOT, Eddard I)

This is couched in the idea that Robert loved her, Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her, they're talking about where to bury her, so the first time we read it, we're guided to believe Lyanna is begging to come home, but now we know, Lyanna was begging for Jon's life.

(That is not to say she didn’t want to come home, of course she did, I’m just pointing out the misdirection about what her pleas were about).

So, when I reread that passage with the idea that Lyanna left willingly (which I think is the implication of the revelations that Bran receives) and she was begging for her son's life out of fear of what Robert might do, we realize that while Rhaegar is the villain in Robert's story, Robert is the villain in Lyanna's. Robert stands there speaking of his love for a woman who died terrified of what he might do to her child. And rather than being able to hate the man who demanded that fear, Ned loves him, has to serve him, and rather than hating Rhaegar or thinking ill of him, he has a weirdly neutral opinion (link).

In that little scene, we know have the conflict of POVs, the way these characters are torn by loves and loyalties, the fact that Lyanna's enemy is Ned's best friend/"brother"/king, the fact that he takes the son of his enemy and calls him his own. The layers of pain here, the conflicts of his loves, that is one of the beautiful aspects of the series imo, and I believe the mystery Martin has been writing about throughout each book, in most POVs will have that same complexity.

At the same time, I hate Rhaegar and if he is a kidnapper/rapist, it would be very Targy of him. Can't eliminate the possibility!

While writing this I remembered a post I thought tried to give a balanced view of things, worked to reconcile the characterization and the events of R/L which you might like to read (link). I also really appreciate this breakdown of whether or not Lyanna could give meaningful consent (link).

#anti rhaegar #dot chat

[wcrriorhearts]

her heart is hammering in her chest so hard that she feels like throwing up as she enters the lobby of the hospital. the past two days have been a blur, from the moment the telephone rang, to her arrival at the capitol now. eight months have passed since finnick was declared dead and two days ago an apologetic capitol doctor called her, declaring that her husband had been found after the war, but that it had taken months for them to identify him and even longer to find a way to contact her, given there were no records of their marriage in the new world and he had no next of kin officially registered. for the briefest moment annie had expected it to be a cruel joke, until hope with the force of a thousand suns had flooded her chest and set everything ablaze. finnick was alive. but he was also dying.

or so the doctor had said. even after months of intensive therapy and care, his condition was critical and they didn't want to give her hope. they had asked her to come to the capitol to be by his side, but take into consideration that this might be their last goodbyes. after his death, annie had longed for one more moment with him to say everything that had been left unsaid, but now that she knows he lives, all she longs for is for him to survive. as someone who has worked at a hospital since the war ended, annie knows she has to be realistic, but there is this small voice in the back of her mind that tells her they can make it. as long as they're together again, they can beat all odds, just as they have in the past.

this morning, before she got on the train, annie called johanna, because she needed to call someone. the other victor promised she would come to the capitol as well to be with annie, knowing finnick's wife is eight months pregnant with the child he doesn't know about yet and should not go through so much stress alone. now she stands at the reception, however, so nervous that her whole body trembles, but she tries to keep her nerves under control. a friendly nurse comes to take her to finnick's room and gives her a short overview of what she can expect, before halting in front of a door. he is delirious most of the time, sleeps almost all day and might not react to her much. she can live with that. annie needs three attempts to bring herself to open the door and finally step inside, breathless from her racing heart and all the emotions exploding in her chest at the sight of him. pale, thin and sickly looking, but the man in the bed before her is definitely finnick. her finn, the love of her life, whom she has mourned since the day they told her he wasn't coming home. alive. nothing else matters for now. annie draws closer and quietly approaches the bed, sinking into the chair next to it. she reaches out tentatively and takes his hand into her own, which is pleasantly warm. "finny? it's me, i'm here now. everything's gonna be okay. we'll be alright."

@sleeplesswork

#ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ( The Hunger Games ) - Annie Cresta

[idksmtms]

Girl I have like an entire storyline here lmao, I have a lot of imagination…too bad I’m not a writer lol. I’m not a native speaker so I apologize in advance if something is written in the wrong way❤️. 

So that was my idea for the Poseidon X Goddess! Reader:

I imagine her as a Norse goddess ( my favorite mythology) and this is kind of a crossover with marvel, but not really (everyone’s alive, but not mentioned and they live separately living each of them their own life, so no avengers, the members singularly exist but they are living at peace, just the occasionally battle, no war, no blip, no things like that, they are in the same universe but they don’t know each other tho) I hope this was clear 😫.

I imagine her as Thor and Loki’s younger sister (she is like 1000 years old or something)I don’t know what kind of goddess she could be, I was thinking love and war maybe, I love the goddess Freyja sooo… 

I imagine her as the scarlet witch but with blue colors, even blue hair maybe lol, she is different from other gods and goddesses, maybe even considered weird from some of them. 

They met when she was 800 or so, because before that olympians and asgardians did not like each other for centuries, so Loki, Thor and y/n have never seen Olympia. 

Once Kronos dies, Zeus and Odin decide to make an agreement, both parties could live at peace without risking any war, a friendly pact. 

Then they celebrate and everyone meet at Olympia, first meeting for y/n and Poseidon. 

Y/n is a beautiful goddess, her blue hair are iconic and unique and she has the power of love and war, so I would say that everyone were watching her, some were envious, others jealous, someone was even afraid maybe, they don’t really know how her powers works, she is kind of strange with her blue hair.

But of course, Poseidon was very intrigued already. They all take a seat in this very long table, and while Poseidon was watching her, for the first time that night, she was staring back at him, she could feel that he was not judging her like everyone else was doing, so she smiled. 

In the meantime I imagine the situation being a little bit chaotic of course, while y/n and Poseidon were just occasionally eying each other and EVERYONE could see that. Then they also dance together and  talk a little (other gods were already feeling the sexual tension lmao😏) . From that moment, they of course are very interested in each other, and in many occasions they talk, they fight together, and one day they kiss.

He is the only one that believes in her powers and is not afraid of her strength (beyond her family and her people of course). He would definitely kneel for his woman and admit that she is more powerful than him any day.

But they can’t stay together, because yes to peace, no to relationships between olympians and asgardians (forbidden love trope 👀).

They keep their relationship hidden for a very long time (with her powers, they could keep the secret from Zeus, Hades knew but he was fine with it and never ever said anything, hades is a Poseidon and Y/n fan in this), but one day Olympia declares war to Asgard because the lightning bolt is stolen and y/n is the one being accused…but guess who was it actually ? Hermes, the motherfucker found out why y/n didn’t want him, at first he thought it was because of the rule but then he caught y/n and Poseidon in the lake and let’s say they were not swimming 👀…yes they were practicing so they could have Percy a century later lol ( I don’t know if you write smut, this scene would need al lot of spicy details) 

So Hermes is the og Luke of course, the war doesn’t happen because they find the lighting bolt, everyone finds out about Poseidon and Y/n and another agreement is made, after a 100 or so peace, olympians and asgardians will never ever again have another interaction…

This was part 1, in the other Percy will be in it. I really hope you like it🦋🩵💙! 

WAIT WHY DO I KINDA SORTA RLLY LOVE THIS???? OK OK IM MAKING THE MASTERLIST RN SO GIMME A MIN AND ILL PUT IT ON THERE!!!

#asks open #send asks #send me asks #anon ask #answered asks #ask box #ask me anything #ask #requests #request

[averagetransfem]

Nimona x atla fic idea that has been floating around in my head like a dvd screen saver

* Ballister, Ambrosious (thats how I'm spelling that) are fire benders, Nimona is the avatar (haven't decided what nation she's from initially)

* 1000 years before the plot follows loosely along with before the 100 year war and in Gloreth's time, Gloreth and Nimona are friends before Nimona is found out as the Avatar and Gloreth is made to believe that Nimona is a monster (for reasons idk)

* Nimona is chased out before freezing herself in ice like Aang

* Gloreth is made out to be a hero for getting rid off the 'monster', the fire nation becomes isolated from the world

* Gloreth's legacy is changed to make out all the other people as monsters outside the wall, Knights are trained

* 1000 years pass, more recent rulers trying to attack the 'monsters' outside the walls

* Ballister is either a commoner or someone outside the wall (not all the fire nation will be inside the walls)

* in the first one, Ballister becomes a knight, the first commoner to be one

* in the second one Ballister is an ambassador? invited by queen Valerin (she wants to open diplomatic relations with the other nations)

* in both Ballister is invited to the knighting ceremony, in the first one he's being knighted with someone else being an ambassador, the second one he's there to witness the knighting ceremony

* in the knight Ballister one, he has the same relationship with Ambrosious as in the movie (I haven't decided what their relationship is when Ballister is an ambassador)

* the queen gets killed in both, with Ballister (and the ambassador) getting framed

* the director (I don't respect her enough for capitalisation) releases a statement on how 'this is why commoners aren't knights' and that 'the monsters outside have declared war by killing the queen'

* Ballister loses his arm in both (arm chopping is not a love language) and escapes before making his own (he's a wet cat but he's very capable)

* where Ballister is a knight at first he tries to prove his innocence before realising that he doesn't want to be a part of something committing ethnic genocide (he's brainwashed but he knows that the chances of everyone outside the walls being monsters is nigh impossible)

* where Ballister is an ambassador he escapes outside the walls

* in both he travels around the outside world trying to help the other people before he stumbles across the iceberg Nimona is in and he frees her

* Nimona acts like herself (aka she gets freed sees Ballister and sees him as her boss) although she does hide her bending and uses only water

* Knight Ballister distrusts Nimona heavily at first (who freezes themselves in an iceberg?) before slowly learning to trust her

* Ambassador Ballister is more trusting (no brainwashing comes in handy)

* when Nimona reveals that she's the avatar (either through a fight or just telling Ballister) knight Ballister is obviously freaked (nearly everything said how the avatar was the biggest monster of them all) but tries to believe that Nimona isn't a monster

* Ambassador Ballister gets angry at Nimona for not doing anything about the war before calming down when he sees her flinch

that's about it i might add more later but feel free to add more

#atla #avatar #nimona #nimona 2023 #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius

[atomicmoths]

House of Suncatchers

Here’s my fan Eliksni house!! I shared them years ago on Instagram pre Destiny 2, and drew art of the three sisters all the time. All this lore was developed before D2 came out, only getting the pirate addition and name updates/changes with the emergence of the Season of Plunder.

In order, the characters are…

Soliaiks, Kell of Suncatchers, youngest of the three sisters.

Dielos, Suncatchers Splicer Archon, oldest of the three sisters.

Vatros, the Seer, the middle sister.

Suncatchers, or as they were formally known as, the House of Sun, took shelter on Mercury after the Whirlwind and have been there since. They’ve remained recluse and lacked contact with the other Houses of the Solar System.

House of Sun was a rumor among Guardians, remaining elusive to curious eyes. Their splicer’s were among the first Eliksni to develop vex based Splicer tech by Gerask, their long time Splicer Archon. The Cult of Osiris were the only people who knew of the House’s existence on Mercury but made an agreement of peace and secrecy with the Kell, Solsar.

Seers have always been an important part of House Sun society. It’s a role that emerge after the Whirlwind and their touchdown on Mercury. They found solace in having someone to predict and foresee the future, whether it was good or bad. Their ether intake was on the same level as a Baron’s, but were higher regarded. The seers helped dictate migration patterns for the house around Mercury in order to stay on stable grounds from the shifting and moving pieces due to the time instabilities and portals of the Vex. Unlike many Houses of the time, they respected the Guardians for being the new Lightbearers. They instead turned to worshiping the Sun, House Servitors being painted bright oranges, reds, and yellows. There typically was only one Seer at a time, hand picked by the Kell or Archon upon the current Seer’s retirement or passing.

House Sun lived undisturbed for ages until Skolas had declared himself Kell of Kells. House Sun tried to stay out of conflict, but Skolas sent wolves to steal their splicer tech in order to send his house forward in time. His Wolves failed, sending him into the Vault of Glass. After Skolas was captured, Solsar opened arms to Wolf refugees and anyone else who wanted to seek the sanctuary of Mercury. They also took in wanders of any other Houses who were seeking second chances.

During the Taken War, House Sun retreated to living exclusively out of their Ketch. They lost Gerask to the Taken as he stood ground while the rest of his house fled to Solsar’s Ketch. Archonless and beat, they drifted around the sands of Mercury and around it’s atmosphere, avoiding Taken as they voyaged.

House Sun avoided the SIVA Crisis, but were approached by the remaining leadership of the Houses. They begged House Sun to join their ranks as they formed House Dusk, but Solsar refused. She had no interest in fighting a war against Guardians which they hadn’t began. They remained separate when the Red War began and the Cabal invaded Earth.

As the House of Kings fell to the Scorn, Solsar fell ill. She was one of two remaining members of the House from before the Whirlwind after Gerask’s passing. The other being her oldest daughter, Dielos, who at the time was a Baron. Vatros was a Splicer and Soliaiks was a Scribe. Soliaiks tended to her mother in her final days, who talked about making Soliaiks Kell when she passed. Solsar decreed that remaining House King Eliksni that hadn’t become Scorn were also welcome aboard. 

When Solsar passed, Eramis was harnessing Darkness and taking a stand against Guardians and Eliksni alike who defied her. Soliaiks became Kell upon her mother’s wishes, and extended open arms to Salvation refugees, just as her mother had done for Wolves and Kings alike. Soliaiks made Dielos the Archon, and Vatros the Seer. 

The three sisters brought unification back to the House, plunging them into a new Golden Age of piracy, dubbing themselves the Suncatchers. As Eramis remerged from her frozen prison, the Suncatchers sided with House Light to take down Eramis’s crews of pirates. During this time, Soliaiks lost her leg, which was replaced by Splicer technology using the leg of a Vex Minotaur.

Well if you read through all that, congratulations and thank you for taking interest in my House! Feel free to make your own Suncatcher pirates, just tag me I’d love to see them!! If you want to make a character higher than a Captain rank, just ask me first! :) If you have any questions about my House in general, don’t be shy to ask. 

#destiny the game #eliksni #destiny 2 #destiny eliksni #destiny fallen #destiny art #Eliksni oc #destiny eliksni oc #destiny fallen oc #house of suncatchers

[richincolor]

[The images above are each of the book covers of the new releases. For more detailed descriptions for each cover, please visit the original post on our blog.]

New Releases

Maybe it has been happening every year and I didn't notice, but this January brought a fabulously large amount of new releases and I am not complaining. Here are a few we're watching for this week.

The Davenports (The Davenports #1) by Krystal Marquis Dial Books

The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it’s 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to.

There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers.

Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Two Can Play That Game by Leanne Yong Allen & Unwin

Sam Khoo has one goal in life: create cool indie games. She’s willing to do anything to make her dream come true – even throw away a scholarship to university. All she needs is a super-rare ticket to a game design workshop and she can kickstart her career.

So when Jaysen Chua, otherwise known as Jerky McJerkface, sneakily grabs the last ticket for himself, Sam is left with no choice. It’s war. Knowing all too well how their Australian-Malaysian community works, she issues him an ultimatum: put the ticket on the line in a 1v1 competition of classic video games, or she’ll broadcast his duplicity to everyone. Thank you, Asian Gossip Network.

Meeting in neutral locations, away from the eyes and ears of nosy aunties and uncles, Sam and Jay connect despite themselves. It’s a puzzle that Sam’s not sure she wants to solve. But when her dream is under threat, will she discover that there is more than one way to win?

Play the Game by Charlene Allen Katherine Tegan Books

In the game of life, sometimes other people hold all the controls. Or so it seems to VZ. Four months have passed since his best friend Ed was killed by a white man in a Brooklyn parking lot.

When Singer, the man who killed Ed, is found dead in the same spot where Ed was murdered, all signs point to Jack, VZ’s other best friend, as the prime suspect.

VZ’s determined to complete the video game Ed never finished and figure out who actually killed Singer. With help from Diamond, the girl he’s crushing on at work, VZ falls into Ed’s quirky gameiverse. As the police close in on Jack, the game starts to uncover details that could lead to the truth about the murder.

Can VZ honor Ed and help Jack before it’s too late? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Reggie and Delilah’s Year of Falling by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Delilah always keeps her messy, gooey insides hidden behind a wall of shrugs and yeah, whatevers. She goes with the flow—which is how she ends up singing in her friends’ punk band as a favor, even though she’d prefer to hide at the merch table.

Reggie is a D&D Dungeon Master and self-declared Blerd. He spends his free time leading quests and writing essays critiquing the game under a pseudonym, keeping it all under wraps from his disapproving family.

These two, who have practically nothing in common, meet for the first time on New Year’s Eve. And then again on Valentine’s Day. And then again on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s almost like the universe is pushing them together for a reason.

Delilah wishes she were more like Reggie—open about what she likes and who she is, even if it’s not cool. Except . . . it’s all a front. Reggie is just role-playing someone confident. The kind of guy who could be with a girl like Delilah.

As their holiday meetings continue, the two begin to fall for each other. But what happens once they realize they’ve each fallen for a version of the other that doesn’t really exist? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Black Queen by Jumata Emill Delacorte Press

Nova Albright was going to be the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High—but now she’s dead. Murdered on coronation night. Fans of One of Us Is Lying and The Other Black Girl will love this unputdownable thriller.

Nova Albright, the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High, is dead. Murdered the night of her coronation, her body found the next morning in the old slave cemetery she spent her weekends rehabilitating.

Tinsley McArthur was supposed to be queen. Not only is she beautiful, wealthy, and white, it’s her legacy—her grandmother, her mother, and even her sister wore the crown before her. Everyone in Lovett knows Tinsley would do anything to carry on the McArthur tradition.

No one is more certain of that than Duchess Simmons, Nova’s best friend. Duchess’s father is the first Black police captain in Lovett. For Duchess, Nova’s crown was more than just a win for Nova. It was a win for all the Black kids. Now her best friend is dead, and her father won’t fact the fact that the main suspect is right in front of him. Duchess is convinced that Tinsley killed Nova—and that Tinsley is privileged enough to think she can get away with it. But Duchess’s father seems to be doing what he always does: fall behind the blue line. Which means that the white girl is going to walk.

Duchess is determined to prove Tinsley’s guilt. And to do that, she’ll have to get close to her.

But Tinsley has an agenda, too.

Everyone loved Nova. And sometimes, love is exactly what gets you killed. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Promise Boys by Nick Brooks Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

The Urban Promise Prep School vows to turn boys into men. As students, J.B., Ramón, and Trey are forced to follow the prestigious “program’s” strict rules. Extreme discipline, they’ve been told, is what it takes to be college bound, to avoid the fates of many men in their neighborhoods. This, the Principal Moore Method, supposedly saves lives.

But when Moore ends up murdered and the cops come sniffing around, the trio emerges as the case’s prime suspects. With all three maintaining their innocence, they must band together to track down the real killer before they are arrested. But is the true culprit hiding among them? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

How to Be a (Young) Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi & Nic Stone Kokila

The New York Times bestseller How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi is shaping the way a generation thinks about race and racism. How to be a (Young) Antiracist is a dynamic reframing of the concepts shared in the adult book, with young adulthood front and center. Aimed at readers 12 and up, and co-authored by award-winning children’s book author Nic Stone, How to be a (Young) Antiracist empowers teen readers to help create a more just society. Antiracism is a journey–and now young adults will have a map to carve their own path. Kendi and Stone have revised this work to provide anecdotes and data that speaks directly to the experiences and concerns of younger readers, encouraging them to think critically and build a more equitable world in doing so. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

One Girl In All The World (In Every Generation #2) by Kendare Blake Disney-Hyperion

Into every generation, a slayer is born. One girl in all the world . . . maybe.

Frankie Rosenberg is the world’s first slayer-witch, but she doesn’t have that slay-life balance figured out just yet. After all, being the newest slayer means that another slayer had to die. Frankie and the Scooby gang are still reeling from the deadly explosion that rocked the annual slayer retreat―and grappling with new evidence that some slayers may have made it out alive. And even though they defeated bloodthirsty vampire the Countess, it doesn’t mean Sunnydale is free from the forces of evil.

Something has reawakened the Hellmouth―and is calling old friends home. Someone is performing demon magic in the shadows, opening portals between dimensions. Everyone has demons to contend with―of the metaphorical and the very real (occasionally very hot) variety. And an oracle warns of a new evil on its way: the Darkness.

Could this be what attacked the slayers? And is it coming for Frankie? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Cartographers by Amy Zhang *HarperCollins

Ocean Wu has always felt enormous pressure to succeed. After struggling with depression during her senior year in high school, Ocean moves to New York City, where she has been accepted at a prestigious university. But Ocean feels so emotionally raw and unmoored (and uncertain about what is real and what is not), that she decides to defer and live off her savings until she can get herself together. She also decides not to tell her mother (whom she loves very much but doesn’t want to disappoint) that she is deferring—at least until she absolutely must.

In New York, Ocean moves into an apartment with Georgie and Tashya, two strangers who soon become friends, and gets a job tutoring. She also meets a boy—Constantine Brave (a name that makes her laugh)—late one night on the subway. Constant is a fellow student and a graffiti artist, and Constant and Ocean soon start corresponding via Google Docs—they discuss physics, philosophy, art, literature, and love. But everything falls apart when Ocean goes home for Thanksgiving, Constant reveals his true character, Georgie and Tashya break up, and the police get involved.

Ocean, Constant, Georgie, and Tashya are all cartographers—mapping out their futures, their dreams, and their paths toward adulthood in this stunning and heartbreaking novel about finding the strength to control your own destiny. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

*The HarperCollins Union has been striking since 10 November 2022. Please consider supporting the strike by purchasing books through the union's Bookshop account or by donating to the strike fund.

#new releases #young adult lit #YALit

[miredinmiddleearth]

Rings of Power, Ep. 7 Review - RIP

I’ve made it this far...Buckle up, mellon. Time for my thoughts on episode seven:

1. Dang. Everyone survived. Whelp, except that guy whose name I neither remember nor care to remember.

2. Wait, they SURVIVED?! Heat alone would do the trick, but pretending they survive the heat, that’s not snow they’re walking through! The ash would finish off anyone left! Look, LotR doesn’t have the best history with believability when it comes to volcanoes, but Rings of Power keeps professing it is meant to feel grittier and more realistic. So much for that, I guess.

3. The scene where Durin begs his father to help Elrond is actually poignant...and it makes me angry. Here’s why -

Lore/book reason the dwarves awake a Balrog: they were too greedy and dug too deep.

RoP reason the dwarves awake a Balrog: Durin is desperate to help his friend.

Writers, do you not see how thematically misaligned and stupid you are being?!

4. So now we know how the mithril cures the darkness. Apparently you just sit beside it. Wait, that begs the question, why do you even need to mine for mithril? Couldn’t the elves just book a mithril session and hang out int he caves for a bit? Totally cured.

5. Miss Pro-Genocide Galadriel gives a lecture on goodness and letting go of revenge. HA. That’s rich! Have we seen literally any evidence of a mind-change or reason she grew between the last episode and this one? Psh, no. Why would we need such a thing? 

6. I actually found the scene where Miriel realizes she’s been blinded quite decent, as well! Amazing! In an ACTUAL display of strength (not whatever fake nonsense we’ve seen the women display prior), Miriel must maintain composure and pretend she can see so she can be strong for her people. They actually did something good? 

Don’t make me laugh. The next time we see her, she’s wearing a blindfold, not hiding her blindness in ANY way. Apparently she only needed to fake being strong for a short horse ride.

7. When the heck did they have time to set up camp? At least the show is consistent. They’ll always fail to include what’s actually relevant. 

8. Apparently we need to waste time worrying that Isildur, the incredibly vital character from later tales, is dead. Great use of time. Proof upon proof upon proof of the ineptitude of the writers.

9. Galadriel finally said her brother’s name! Her primary motivation, and it only took 7 episodes for his name to get dropped.

10. Celeborn DEAD?! They had me going for a second. But no. Clearly gotta come back (Galadriel says he went away to war and never returned). Still, super stupid. Brother motivates her but apparently couldn’t care less about her hubby. Also, she met Celeborn because he came upon her dancing? Seriously? You couldn’t give them their own meet cure? You had to steal Luthien and Beren’s?

11. Durin is going to mine all the mithril by himself? Great plan, dude.

12. So are we supposed to dislike the dwarf king? Because I don’t dislike him. Mining mithril is not safe. Period.

13. Cool burning of harfoot carts, but unclear how many perished. Unfortunately, I think they all survived. Alas.

14. SIgh. Bronwyn survived, too. Also, watching her fling her arms around her son’s neck reminds me that she was shot through the shoulder the day before. Healed up nice and dandy, apparently. Also, she’s awfully clean for someone that went through a volcanic blast.

15. I laughed the hardest I’ve ever laughed in this show when Nori’s dad gives his brethren a pep talk. He says the harfoots, better than anyone else, “stay true to each other.” I CACKLED. Harfoots stick together? The same harfoots who wanted to leave you behind. Who wanted to take off your wheels and leave you to die. Who didn’t offer a single ounce of assistance when you were injured. THOSE harfoots?! (The laughter continued when harfoot who proposed murder is declared “always right.”)

16. Halbrand survives to show his pretty face another day. HIs wound is infected and he must be gotten to the elves!

Oh wait, he’s fine. Walking around like the wound is nothing. No? He still needs immediate aid that will require a very long horseride? Okay...

17. I know they’re shooting for Disa sounding inspirational and supportive of her husband, but to me she just sounds straight up evil in that speech at the end? SHE sounds greedy and possessive and manipulative. Definitely don’t think that’s what they were going for...

18. Ah. She we’re not just changing greedy dwarvish motivations to helping a friend, we’re adding that a leaf woke the Balrog. What is this, Kung Fu Panda?

19. The introduction of Mordor’s name made me roll my eyes.

Just one episode left. Just one. The end is in sight. (Yes, I know they’ve started filming season 2).

#lord of the rings #lotr #amazon #rings of power #anti rings of power #rop #tolkien #jrr tolkien #the ring speaks #the one ring #rings of power review #rant

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Why is it that so many people believe that Wuya was once a Xiaolin Monk herself? I don’t know why but that idea just doesn’t sound right. I mean Wuya has mostly been presented in a way that made her seem more like some sort ancient supernatural being of Darkness. Plus, if she was just a Xiaolin monk gone bad at the end of the day, then why was it that she had to be contained within a magic puzzle box while Chase Young was pretty much left free to do whatever he wanted?

I think the basis comes from the general assumption that Dashi's team is supposed to be roughly one-to-one to the current Xiaolin monk team. 

So them having three members instead of four opens up the assumption that there's a member we're not seeing.

There's also generally a lot of mystery surrounding Dashi's era.

And there's something fun and dramatic to the idea that Dashi's greatest rival and the Heylin's greatest force was yet another dragon that defected to the enemy side, something that has a track record of happening a lot.

But like you pointed out, Wuya being a former dragon-in-training, at least one from Dashi's generation... doesn't necessarily track. There are a few things that could go against it.

Despite saying she's 1500, there are things imply that Wuya’s been an existing threat for longer than Dashi and the others would have been around. She’s used to working on the side of monsters, using them as lackeys, while Dashi and the others are used to fighting against monsters. She also knows about Xiaolin Showdowns, which is something Dashi only discovered when he met Omi.

She once claimed to be such an ancient threat that she was around when mankind was "crawling out of the mud," which, um... 

Even if that was hyperbole, she definitely has the feeling of an Ancient Evil Force that's been terrorizing the world for a while. It’s never really defined what a “Witch” is in this series, but I don’t think it’s just a nickname.

She’s the strongest character in the series by far. Every other villain is trying to supplement his power, usually by siphoning it from someone else. Wuya is just trying to take back what was hers.  This power is her baseline when her limiters are removed. She’s naturally a goddess-like being on the power scale.

I don’t think this is power someone else offered to Wuya to convince her betray the monks, because no one else has access to this much power to offer in the first place.

Plus, it’s hard to imagine Wuya following the ex-monk-turned-villain plot.

Wuya isn't at all struggling with darkness. I don't think she ever did. Wuya’s not the type that’s uncertain in herself or easily swayed off her path. She knows what she wants. If she was a good guy who wanted to surpass her fellow good guys, she would have found underhanded ways to cement herself as the top Xiaolin warrior, I think. She’d sooner sabotage all her companions, not give up and go to what she thinks is a more attainable goal, like Chase did.

So I think it fits her personality more if she chose evil for herself from the start. She wanted to be the most powerful evil being in existence, and she succeeded. I don’t think Hannibal would respect her like he does if she was anything less.

I feel like it's a little narratively weaker to say that she stumbled into it in the same way as Chase, who was coerced onto the path before eventually “acquiring a taste” for it.

(But in regards to the question of why Wuya got sealed into a box and Chase didn’t, it’s probably because Chase didn’t directly declare war against Dashi. He seemed to have had some sort of altercation with Guan, but that didn’t look like it was on the level of the all-out war Wuya initiated. She flew too close to the sun.)

#Xiaolin Showdown #bers1990 #Wuya #Dashi #Master Monk Guan #Chase Young #Omi #long post

[rockislandadultreads]

Picks for PRIDE: Queer Historical Romances

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall

When Viola Caroll was presumed dead at Waterloo she took the opportunity to live, at last, as herself. But freedom does not come without a price, and Viola paid for hers with the loss of her wealth, her title, and her closest companion, Justin de Vere, the Duke of Gracewood. Only when their families reconnect, years after the war, does Viola learn how deep that loss truly was. Shattered without her, Gracewood has retreated so far into grief that Viola barely recognises her old friend in the lonely, brooding man he has become. As Viola strives to bring Gracewood back to himself, fresh desires give new names to old feelings. Feelings that would have been impossible once and may be impossible still, but which Viola cannot deny. Even if they cost her everything, all over again.

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower by Erica Ridley

As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. Anything to solve the case. Her latest assignment unveils a top-secret military cipher covering up an enigma that goes back centuries. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake... Bluestocking Miss Philippa York doesn’t believe in love. Her cold heart didn't pitter-patter when she was betrothed to a duke, nor did it break when he married someone else. All Philippa desires is to rescue her priceless manuscript and decode its clues to unmask a villain. She hates that she needs a man's help—so she’s delighted to discover the clever, charming baron at her side is in fact a woman. Her cold heart... did it just pitter-patter?

The Hellion's Waltz by Olivia Waite

It’s not a crime to steal a heart... Sophie Roseingrave hates nothing more than a swindler. After her family lost their piano shop to a con man in London, they’re trying to start fresh in a new town. Her father is convinced Carrisford is an upright and honest place, but Sophie is not so sure. She has grave suspicions about silk-weaver Madeline Crewe, whose stunning beauty doesn’t hide the fact that she’s up to something. All Maddie Crewe needs is one big score, one grand heist to properly fund the weavers’ union forever. She has found her mark in Mr. Giles, a greedy draper, and the entire association of weavers and tailors and clothing merchants has agreed to help her. The very last thing she needs is a small but determined piano-teacher and composer sticking her nose in other people’s business. If Sophie won’t be put off, the only thing to do is to seduce her to the cause. Will Sophie’s scruples force her to confess the plot before Maddie gets her money? Or will Maddie lose her nerve along with her heart?

The Pursuit Of... by Courtney Milan

What do a Black American soldier, invalided out at Yorktown, and a white British officer who deserted his post have in common? Quite a bit, actually. • They attempted to kill each other the first time they met. • They're liable to try again at some point in the five-hundred mile journey that they're inexplicably sharing. • They are not falling in love with each other. • They are not falling in love with each other. • They are… Oh, no. The Pursuit Of… is about a love affair between two men and the Declaration of Independence. It’s a novella of around 38,000 words.

#Romance #Queer Romance #LGBTQIA #PRIDE #books for PRIDE #historical romance #queer historical romance #lgbtq characters #lgbtq books #lgbtq #to read #tbr #reading recommendations #book recs #Book Recommendations #library books #highly recommend #Highly Rated #booklr #booktok #book tumblr #reading list

[ms0milk]

i found this fic i wrote in 2014 (when i was 14) and i'm obsessed,, it's honestly not bad at all lmao pls enjoy my baby-kill la kill-throwback

(i literally just copypaste from my old email account so everything below this line is an untouched primary document 🤭)

Title: Dating for Dummies

Pairing: Gamagoori/Mako

Rating: T (<- what does this mean? -2022 pom)

Disclaimer: not beta’d and Gama is best dork

(based off of ^this^ end credit cap -2022 pom)

Gamagoori clutched the pink bouquet with shaking hands and mutely followed the other Devas through the streets. He hoped he didn’t vomit. Or faint. He wasn’t sure which was more likely; his entire body seemed to be fighting a war with itself. A war of nerves.

“We should have brought an extra change of clothes,” Nonon mused. “But Froggy had to wear a suit. Are you proposing or confessing?”

He stared at the bright pink flowers and chose to ignore her teasing. The snake would always lead with its fangs, after all. Even in the case of helping someone else. She was helping, and that was what mattered.

“They’ve stopped again,” Inumuta informed them, looking at his tablet. The tracking device in Satsuki’s purse allowed them to easily follow the trio.

Gamagoori somehow managed to look up from the flowers to focus on the little blinking light on the tablet screen. He swallowed. They were only a few blocks away now which indicated it was almost time. His eyes swung back to the flowers and he clenched them tighter. He couldn’t remember a time where he was more nervous. Standing up to the bullies, fighting Satsuki, waging war against the life fibers…no prior event had caused his insides to twist in such a way. He tried to calm himself by taking slow, even breaths, but his heart rate remained stubbornly elevated and he was still perspiring heavily.

Nonon, always one to sense any amount of weakness of will, stood before him with a scrutinizing look. “I gave up going shopping for you,” she informed him darkly. “You better not back out.”

Gamagoori nodded. “I know.”

He understood this was a matter of do or die. Soon it would be over with and he could relax again. Gamagoori tried to look forward to the future but found it was impossible to predict. If she wasn’t interested what would he feel? What would he do? The tiny, pink flowers had no answer for him, so instead he tried to work on what he wanted to say. Yes, no point in thinking that far ahead. For now he needed to practice what he would say to win Mako’s heart.

Gamagoori closed his eyes. Now, he thought. How should I put it?

He remained still, hunched against the wall as he meditated…until all at once his eyes bugged out. He’d been so worried about everything else he hadn’t even considered what to say. His mind was a complete blank. He couldn’t string any sort of meaningful love declarations, no poetic recitations, and certainly no sweet-nothings. At the moment, he could barely remember his own name.

Gamagoori’s breathing rate began to increase again as his panic rose. How could he have forgotten to come up with a good line? Something. Anything. He looked dumbly down at the flowers, which were starting to look both blurry and patronizing. A shocking feat for mere flowers.

“Here they come,” Inumuta warned.

He jumped to his feet without knowing why. They were coming and Gamagoori had nothing to say. He had flowers and nothing else. Just himself; a large, mute man who couldn’t even properly speak to the girl he liked. But he was going to try. No matter what, he was going to try.

Inumuta adjusted his glasses and looked up at him. “I took the liberty of placing note cards in your jacket pocket. In case you find yourself…without words.”

Gamagoori look down, surprised. “Y-yes. Alright.”

“You don’t need note cards,” Uzu voiced. “Just speak from the heart.”

He nodded again. “From the heart…” All he could truly muster was parroted responses. At a later point he would communicate his gratitude towards them for their help. For now it was all he could do to stay standing.

“There they are,” Nonon voiced, excited. “It’s time!” She waved a hand at him and said, “Good luck, Froggy.” Soon she was dashing out to intercept the girls, followed shortly by Inumuta and Uzu. They gave him a passing thumbs-up, and he was left alone with his flowers.

This is it.

He would not hide anymore. It was time for him to truly, truly go Nudist. With his heart, at least.

Gamagoori moved out from the cover the building provided, looking across the street where the group had met up. Nonon was directing Mako to a food stand down the way, and the girl had run off eagerly, her large bag of goods bouncing behind her. He headed in the same direction, planning to intercept her. His expression was one of determination with a tinge of nausea. Now that he was finally acting, his body at least seemed to be behaving correctly. Steely-gray eyes remained fixed on his target as he closed the distance between them.

Suddenly, a crowd of people spilled out of a bus, clogging the path with pedestrians. At the same time some moving-men began moving large furniture right in his path. It was as if the world had all at once conspired against him in the most non-humorous way possible. Briefly he took his eyes off of Mako as he picked his way past people and furniture, and when he looked back up he couldn’t see her amongst the crowd. Gamagoori stopped, eyes scanning for the engorged bag that Mako had been carrying. Even though he was larger than everyone, he didn’t immediately spot her.

“Mankanshoku…” he muttered, moving forward again. He needed to remain calm. She couldn’t have gotten far, and he knew where the food stand was located. The busy sidewalk was only a minor annoyance. He would find her.

When Gamagoori reached the stand, his heart sank. She wasn’t there, and he hadn’t seen her along the way. He looked at the store fronts, wondering if she made a side-stop in any of the buildings nearby. If he had to, he’d check them all. With another glance around the area he spotted a bulbous round bag. There she was.

He pushed through the people and called, “Mankanshoku!” Half-stumbling, he made it to the curb, eyes catching the sight of a large round bag…being thrown into the back of a garbage truck. Gamagoori’s shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been her at all. His panic was beginning to rise now. He didn’t know if he could bear facing Satsuki knowing that he had managed to lose Mako in the crowds. The hand that clutched the pink bouquet hung loosely at his side.

What should he do now?

“Oh! Is that you, Gamagoori-senpai?”

Gamagoori turned at the sound, wide-eyes falling on the very girl he had lost. “M-Mankanshoku…”

Mako was looking at him with a tilted head. “Wow you look all dressed up today,” she said. Then she jumped in surprise, pointing at the flowers. “F-flowers!? Oh gosh t-this…I know what this is!”

His brows snapped together. “Y-you…you do?” Inwardly he sighed in relief. Leave it to Mako to understand, yet again, what he was truly feeling. He should have never worried.

“Yes!” she confirmed. Her hands snapped up above her head and for a moment she appeared cloaked in a faint light (<- if you don't watch the show you don't understand what a hysterical addition to the fic this is -2022 pom). “The suit, the flowers, and all of the other things up until now. The entire atmosphere and even the Confession Moon! It was all leading up to the same thing.”

(it's genuinely alarming how accurate i got this characterization, pls god watch the show and read this again -2022 pom)

He tried to follow, but she was moving around very enthusiastically and making gestures that he couldn’t decipher. “Ah, y-yes. That’s what I-”

Mako held her hand up suddenly. “You don’t have to explain yourself! I understand.”

A warm, bubbly feeling spread through his chest at her words. His cheeks were red, but he looked at her with a tender expression. “Mankanshoku…”

She smiled, bright and cheery. He had feared for no reason. This person would not harm him, surely. She was kind and honest and brave. Why had he been afraid?

“We’re friends, senpai, so I’m going to help you! I���ll help make sure your confession goes perfectly!”

He blinked down at her with a dreamy expression before his expectations completely shattered. Gamagoori didn’t attempt to mask his horror as he stuttered, “N-no, M-Mankanshoku, you d-don’t-”

Mako made a sound of disappointment as she nimbly snagged the bouquet from his hand. “Aww, senpai, something happened to your flowers.” She waved the broken and droopy bouquet in front of him before tossing it over her shoulder. “If you’re going to confess you should buy some better flowers first. I’ll help you pick some out!”

Before he could muster a response, she took hold of his finger and dragged him along through the crowd. Those in their path wisely moved out of the way; Mako was too busy detailing all the reasons why he couldn’t possibly make a confession without nice flowers to notice anyone else. She pulled him to an outdoor market full of stands selling various wares.

“Mankanshoku, I have to-”

“Flowers!” she broke in, pointing. She tugged him forward again, ending up in front of a colorful flower stand. “Ooo! They’re all so bright and pretty!”

“Thank you,” the stand’s owner replied, her wrinkly face stretching in a smile.

“Hmm, what do you think would work best, senpai?” Mako asked, scrutinizing over the selection. “You probably have to think of their meaning.”

She grabbed a bouquet of yellow daisies and held it aloft saying, “These are saying ‘you are the sun in my sky’.” Then she exchanged those for some pink carnations. “And this is ‘my feelings are like a gentle blush’.” Her next pick became red roses. “These say ‘my blood is raging with passion for you’.” Mako’s face became serious as she advised, “These are only for the most serious intentions, senpai. Are you ready for that? You know. That.” He watched as Mako made a strange gesture which involved her pinky.

No, he certainly didn’t know that. He was starting to sweat more again at the very suggestion of…whatever that was. “Uh…” he uttered lamely, looking between the flowers and her intent expression. “What do you suggest, Mankanshoku? Surely you can advise me well.”

Mako blinked and then smiled wide. “I won’t let you down!” Gamagoori thought he could bask in such a smile endlessly. It warmed him to his core and chased away any apprehension that remained. He wanted to receive that smile from her again and again.

“I think this one!” Mako announced finally, choosing a multicolor bouquet. It was rather large but packed with a diverse number of flowers of different colors.

“Why this one?” he asked, honestly curious.

Mako stood triumphantly, hands on her hips as she explained, “Because it says ‘I want everything’! Gamagoori-senpai isn’t the type to hold back his emotions.” Mako punched the air in front of her. “You let them all out.”

Gamagoori quickly attempted to cover his blush. “That…that is a good answer, Mankanshoku.” He turned to pay the old woman while feeling light-headed. While Mako was not the most observant or attentive about certain things, in other ways she understood a lot more than one would expect. It was what made her so incomprehensible. That was simply her.

After he had paid he turned back to her and asked, “What else can I do, Mankanshoku?”

Mako took on a thoughtful expression. “It couldn’t hurt to give her some cute gifts! Girls like cute gifts.”

He nodded and picked up her large bag to carry it for her. “Alright.” Bashfully, he held out his hand and said, “Take my hand, Mankanshoku. So I don’t lose you.”

She placed her hand in his without hesitation and led the way. Gamagoori held her small hand gently as he allowed her to pull him to various stands. He felt content in a way he had never felt before. Never would he have expected such simple acts to feel so meaningful.

Whatever Mako suggested he was willing to accept. She looked overjoyed that she was being helpful to him. Chocolates, stuffed animals, matching cellphone charms. Mako pointed out things and advised him on why they would be perfect. She truly wanted to see him succeed and had no inkling that it was entirely about her in the first place.

Finally, when she was satisfied he had enough gifts and his arms were loaded with all the things she suggested he buy, Mako decided they should head back so Gamagoori could have his ‘shining moment’. The small girl bounced excitedly in front of him as she led the way, commenting on how she didn’t think anyone could say no to him. He smiled faintly at the encouragement before he looked ahead of them. The group was in sight now.

“Mankanshoku,” he voiced, stopping. “I have to tell you the truth.”

Mako stopped moving and turned to watch as he knelt, shifting all of the items and placing them before her. This time he was more careful with the flowers which he held out in the space between them.

For a moment, Mako simply stared. But then she clapped her hands together and said, “Oh yeah! Maybe you should practice what you want to say.” Mako ruffled her fingers through her hair and posed dramatically. “I’m ready. Steal my heart, if you can.”

Gamagoori swallowed. She had truly taken on a daunting form, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. “Mankanshoku!” he said loudly, his face steely determination. “I like you! Please accept my invitation to go on a date! The time and place is of your choosing!”

Finally he had said it. Gamagoori watched Mako’s face, waiting for her response. She appeared to be contemplating his words carefully. That was fine with him. He would rather her be completely certain than feel forced into something she didn’t want. The choice was now hers.

After a long pause, Mako broke her pose and clapped eagerly. “That was great, senpai.” She placed a hand on the back of her head, smiling bashfully. “I was so caught up in the moment I almost forgot it was for someone else. You probably should say the name of the girl when you practice. Ahh…she’s going to love it…” She was smiling dreamily with a far off look in her eyes.

Gamagoori revealed a small smile and said, “I did say her name.”

Mako’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape and she stared at him for many long moments. He remained where he was, waiting for her to come to her own conclusion. The moment broke with Mako jumping and exclaiming loudly, “What?! M-m-me?!”

“Yes. You.” He blushed deeply from where he knelt before her. “Forgive me, for taking so long.”

It was then that Mako was reduced to a babbling mess, gesturing and speaking too quickly for anyone to truly understand. Gamagoori finally felt calm; the release of his feelings had freed him from his fear. Gently he took hold of her hand and set the bouquet before her. She grasped it, settling down as she looked at the vibrant flowers.

“You are right. I want everything.”

She blushed, burying her face into the flowers. It appeared that now she was the one who could not speak. By then, the others were coming towards them. Most specifically, Ryuuko was. It seemed the diversion tactics had finally worn out.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryuuko asked, staring at Gamagoori kneeling and the pile of gifts in front of him. Mako turned, waddled on wobbly legs, and planted her red face into Ryuuko’s chest. “Wha…what’s wrong, Mako?!”

The response was muffled, but not enough to mask the meaning. “I’ve got a…d-date with Gamagoori-senpai!”

His heart soared.

rereading this i actually really love the concept and even 8 1/2 years later the characterization totally holds up! i'm also immediately rewatching kill la kill 🙈 14yo me deserves a nobel prize

#pom.chat #kill la kill #ira gamagoori #mako mankanshoku #sfw

[autopotion]

Um so I was rereading bits and pieces of the two FFT scripts (mostly Folmarv bits) and I said some stuff to Zoe while I was reading and she said I should post my thoughts so I am. Doing that

Preface: Folmarv is one of the most evil dudes in the game and a shitty old bitch, whereas I find Delita to be mostly sympathetic and therefore a tragic figure, but they have some intriguing parallels beyond "they are the two guys in the narrative most obviously manipulating every party behind the scenes"

So they both have this Important Girl they want to rise to power, and they're orchestrating all this bloodshed so that she can come out on top (Ovelia for Delita, Ultima [and by extension Alma] for Folmarv). Delita piggybacks off of Folmarv already doing this and takes advantage of the war to get what he wants, but that just makes the parallel clearer IMO.

The physical actions they take on screen parallel this directly, actually. When we're first introduced to Delita, he's in the middle of kidnapping Ovelia; after a short struggle, he punches her in the stomach and slings her over his shoulder to take her away. When Folmarv and Alma are finally in the same scene together, what does Folmarv do? He finds out she's compatible with Virgo, and therefore Ultima, which is exactly what he needs, so he punches her in the stomach and slings her over his shoulder to take her away. You could chalk this up to FFT's typical relationship with its slew of distressed damsels and the guys who violently grab 'em, but not all the kidnapping scenes have the same body language from its principal characters. I think it's striking that these two scenes do.

So yeah, even that aside. Delita wants to put Ovelia on the throne of Ivalice, Folmarv wants to resurrect Ultima through Alma. As much as Delita hates Folmarv, he's put himself into a remarkably similar situation without knowing it. They even say similar things about their chosen candidates. Delita says to Ramza, "to save her life, I would gladly give my own," and Hashmal says a fucked up iambic pentameter version of that same sentiment: "that you should rise, my life I gladly give."

But while Folmarv/Hashmal is true to his word, we know that's not what happens to Delita. Delita can't give his life for Ovelia because he, whether consciously or not, refuses to ever put himself into a subservient position ever again. Sometimes he acts subservient (to Goltanna, for instance), but it's with the intention to manipulate. Over and over, he reiterates that he won't be used, he'll be the one who's using. The game draws that to its ultimate conclusion: Ovelia stabs him, he stabs her back. She dies, he lives, and as king, he is subservient to no one.

So what happens with Folmarv? Not that! So that his lady(/lord) might rise, without even being asked, he turns his claws right around and takes his own life. His sacrifice is the very last one needed to complete Ultima's ascension, and as soon as he commits to the idea, he follows through without a second thought.

Let's back up a little. We're introduced to Folmarv very slowly over the course of the narrative, but by the end of Chapter 3, there's no doubt: he's the one behind everything. He's the guy really responsible for the actions of the Church, for the seeding of the Zodiac Stones, for the war's very existence. He's behind ALL of it. If we're looking for the "manipulator" in "the manipulative and the subservient," we've found him. He's the one.

And yet his very last, character-defining action of the game is to declare his total subservience to someone else.

#basically folmarv is a REAL ally of girlbosses. #idk if i like any of this but here w/e #fft blogging