#My Portuguese is a bit rusty

[nightcovefox]

???

A/n: Part 1

TW: Mentions of fire and screaming

>>>>>>>>>>

“This pain hurts so much… it's all my fault…”

“You’re a traitor, huh?..” … “I should’ve known..”

“You can't do this!!!.. What about the people here??..”

“This isn’t right!!!”

“FATHER!!! PLEASE-”

….

…

“I’m all alone.. What do I do?..”

“Suck it up. **** you always find a way..”

………………………………………………………………………

“Qui es-tu?! Que voulez-vous de moi?!!”

“….”

“Il m'a pris sous son aile.,”

…………………..

“Este pequenino tem um poder estranho..”

“Então vamos mantê-lo..”

…

“Uau! Sua magia é espetacular!!!”

“De novo! De novo!”

“ ****!!! Você pode nos ensinar?”

“Sim! Claro!!”

……..

“Esse menino é um monstro!!”

“Não ele não é!”

“Ele exerce magia caótica!!!”

“…Deixar.”

“…. Me desculpe professor.. Eu não sei como controlar isso..”

“Está bem. Cuidaremos da sua magia juntos..”

…………………..

“Il y a eu beaucoup d'incendies ce jour-là. J'ai aussi entendu beaucoup de cris. Je n'ai pas pu sauver mon professeur. Un élève de sa classe, mon soi-disant ami m'a blâmé.”

….

….

…

“..I want revenge.”

……………………….

“Des petits êtres si chétifs, implorant grâce, comme c'est mignon..~”

………..

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

End of part 1. This is not a prologue.

Can anyone guess who’s this? A bit hard to guess? Here’s a hint, not one of the main cast but a villain he is.

[catboyolli]

Where are you from?

hey dear! 💖💕 I'm from Argentina, so it seems that we are neighbors! 🇦🇷🇧🇷

(I don't put it on my bio because I don't want the IRLs finding me that easily lmao)

[pickingupmymercedes]

Thank you, for everything (it takes a village) - Lewis Hamilton ft. Ayrton Senna

Little something for the 30th Anniversary of Senna's legacy

pairing: Senna! Reader X Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, 30th anniversary of Senna's legacy

wordcount: +4k

song: In your arms - Birdy

a/n: People in Brasil don't say is the anniversary of his death but rather of his legacy, and it's such a beautiful way to see it. I hope Ayrton knows, wherever he is, how loved he still is.

a/n.2: Ayrton was known as Beco/Becão by his family and friends

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi! (Also, my written portuguese is a bit rusty, so if there's anything weird, please let me know)

______________________________________________________________

When hope went away I still held on, to the love that you gave, it’s all I’ve got of you now. I will never know you, don’t get to understand, no answers to questions. It’s too late for that. But I was in your arms, once

A pre-dawn Miami humidity clung to y/n like a second skin, even inside the automatically cooled hotel room. The city slept, but the salty air carried a raw energy that mirrored the turmoil brewing within her. Today, the 1st of May, was a day she always needed to face alone.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, the weight growing with each passing moment. Today, the air itself seemed thick with an unspoken grief, a shared memory of loss that resonated across the globe. 30 years. Three decades since the world had watched in horror as lives changed forever, hers included.

The sheets felt too restrictive, the silence too loud. Pulling them back, she tiptoed past the rumpled form of Lewis, still fast asleep. He'd offered to come with her, to run by the beach together, but she needed this. Needed the solitude, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement to chase away the ghosts of a past she barely remembered.

Miami slept, bathed in the faint glow of pre-dawn light, but Y/N felt wide awake, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Stepping out onto the balcony, the salty air stung her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean, the darkness slowly giving way to a canvas of vibrant oranges and pinks.

A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent tribute to a love stolen too soon. Every year on this day, it was as if the world held its breath, waiting for her grief to surface. This anniversary wasn't a celebration; it was a stark reminder of the void that had forever shaped her life.

The need to move, to outrun the memories that threatened to consume her, became an insistent ache. With each step, a memory flickered to life, but one always stood out the most, the one few people knew of.

She was four, piloting her tiny kart around a makeshift track at Interlagos. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes flooded her senses, transporting her back to a time before tragedy struck. Y/n grinned, her hair whipping in the wind, as she pushed her little kart to its limits.

A wild turn, a sickening jolt, and the world tilted sideways. Then, strong arms scooped her up. "Tudo bem aí, filha?" (Everything okay there, darling?)  Her father's voice, warm and reassuring. He checked her over, a playful glint in his dark brown eyes. "Você tava indo bem, se assustou?" (You were doing great, did you scare yourself?)

Y/n shook her head, a defiant tear clinging to her cheek. “Eu acho que tá bom por hoje já.” (I think that’s enough for today) Ayrton ruffled her hair, a conforting glint in his eyes. “Não pai, eu quero baixar o tempo da volta”(No dad, I wanna lap faster) little y/n stood her ground, already half way back into her kart. "Vamos voltar lá e mostrar como se faz então, Senninha” (Let’s go back there and show who’s boss then, Senninha).

The memory faded, replaced by the rhythmic sound of the waves. Y/n stopped, chest heaving. Frustration gnawed at her. She would never know that feeling of hearing him cheer her on in that deep, familiar voice again. All she had were these fleeting snippets, these echoes of a life stolen too soon.

Each stride was a battle cry against the past, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of peace. She ran until the sun climbed higher, painting the sky in vibrant hues, until her lungs burned and her legs screamed for mercy. Finally, Y/n slowed to a walk, chest heaving, sweat stinging her eyes.

Collapsing onto a weathered bench, she leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. As the initial wave of exhaustion subsided, a new clarity washed over her. The memories would always be there, a bittersweet reminder of a love lost.

But today, she would celebrate his life, his passion, his legacy that lived on, not just in her name, but in the hearts of countless who still chanted his name at races.

Returning to the hotel, Y/n showered, the steam slowly clearing the remnants of the run and the emotional turmoil. Opening the bathroom door, she found Lewis propped up on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, a concerned look in his warm brown eyes.

"Morning," he said, his voice slightly raspy. "Early run?"

She offered a tired smile. "Needed to clear my head." She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling a towel around her damp hair. "Big day ahead"

Lewis put down his phone, his gaze intent on her. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice softer now. "You alright?"

Taking another deep breath, she met his gaze. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just… emotional, even more so this year"

Lewis reached out and took her hand, his touch a warm anchor in the storm of her emotions. "No judgment," he said quietly. "Today isn't easy for you, I know."

Y/n leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his understanding. "Interviews all day and the dinner at night" she sighed. "They want me to relive it all – the memories, the grief. It gets exhausting sometimes."

Lewis nodded. "Maybe you could have your people reschedule some of it. There's no need to—"

She cut him off with a gentle shake of her head. "No, Lew. I can't hide from it. Today may be hard, but it's important. It's a chance to celebrate his life, to keep his memory alive." she squeezed his hand, a newfound determination strengthening her resolve. "I just…" she hesitated, her voice thick with emotion, "I wish I could remember more."

Lewis's gaze softened further. "You may not have years of childhood memories, but you carry his spirit in you. His passion, his strength, that's part of who you are."

Y/n looked out the window, at the city slowly waking up to a new day. His words held truth. She may not have clear memories of her father, but his legacy, his love, was woven into the fabric of her being.

Taking another deep breath, she met Lewis's gaze, a small smile danced in her eyes "I hope so.”

Today would be impossibly hard. As people celebrated a hero, she would mourn a loss, but they would all be facing the future nonetheless. He may have been gone, but the love he gave her remained, with her and in her.

"I remember you my way, It’s not perfect or fair, I paint you with colours, That weren’t ever there. Feels harder these days after so long, ‘Cause my memory fades"

The sterile hotel conference room felt strangely warm, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and unspoken grief. Y/n sat opposite Galvão Bueno, the legendary Brazilian motorsport commentator, his kind eyes reflecting a lifetime of witnessing triumphs and tragedies on the track.

But this wasn't just another interview. Galvão knew Ayrton. Knew him not just as a driver, but as a friend, a competitor, a kindred spirit who left a void in Brazilian hearts, and most acutely, in Y/n's.

The interview began, a dance between formality and shared history. Galvão's questions flowed, laced with a quiet respect that Y/n appreciated. "Ayrton" he began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips "sempre teve uma maneira diferente de cativar o público” (always had a way of captivating a room"

Y/n nodded, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Ele tinha” (He did) she admitted "Mas para ser bem honesta, eu lembro de sempre ficar puxando ele para sair dos lugares porque ele parava para conversar com todo mundo” (But to be honest, I remember always dragging him out of every room because he would stop and talk to everyone)

A warm chuckle escaped Galvão's lips at her confession. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Você sabia que antes de toda corrida, ele fazia um ritualzinho? Ele parava na frente do carro, fechava os olhos, e... bom, ninguém sabe direito o que ele fazia. Mas ele tocava o carro em três lugares específicos – o nariz, a roda direita dianteira, e aqui” (Did you know that before every race, he'd have this little ritual? He'd stand by his car, close his eyes, and…well, no one knew exactly what he did, but he'd touch the car in three specific places – the nose cone, the front right wheel, and then, right here) Galvão tapped his chest over his heart.

Y/n smiled, surprised that someone still remembered that sequence. But, although this was the Ayrton Senna she knew from the countless documentaries and newsreels, how he recounted that from memory was a glimpse of a private Ayrton, a man seeking solace and strength before the roar of the engines began, not something she would notice while watching a video.

"E tem mais, Senninha” (There's more, Senninha) he said, using the affectionate nickname many Brazilians called her by. "Você sabe que ele era muito supersticioso. Ele nunca usava um capacete novo pela primeira vez em um final de semana de corrida. Sempre insistia em um mais velho, mesmo que estivesse ruim para usar.” (He was fiercely superstitious, you see. He wouldn't wear a new helmet for the first time on a race weekend. Always insisted on the old one, even if it was a little worse for wear.)

Y/n couldn't help but let out a small laugh, a welcome sound that broke the tension in the room. "Parece exatamente algo que ele faria” (That sounds exactly like something he’d do) she said, a newfound appreciation blooming in her chest.

Galvão continued, weaving a tapestry of anecdotes. He spoke of Ayrton's meticulous work ethic, his relentless pursuit of perfection, and then, with a twinkle in his eye, of his playful side. "Ele sempre arrastava os reporters brasileiros para o kart em Interlagos, lá onde você aprendeu a pilotar” (He'd always drag Brazilian reporters to go-kart at Interlagos, right there where you learned how to race" he reminisced, a fond smile creasing his face. "E deixa eu te contar, seu pai sempre ganhava da gente, por muito!" (And let me tell you, your father would always beat us, by far)

Y/n listened, captivated. These were stories of a man, not just a legend. A man who found joy in competition, even outside the high-pressure world of Formula One. As the interview progressed, a kaleidoscope of Ayrton unfolded before her, a man filled with complexities and contradictions, yet undeniably her father.

Stepping out of the stifling conference room, Y/n felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Galvão's interview had stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within her – a heady mix of pride, nostalgia, and a gnawing sense of loss. Back in her hotel room, she found her ant Viviane unpacking a basket of goodies as she waited for her youngest niece. The scent of warm pão de queijo filled the air, a familiar comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

"Você chegou, florzinha" (You’re here, little flower) the elder woman said, her voice as warm as the sun, pulling Y/n into a tight embrace. "Como foi?” (How did it go)

Y/n sank into the hug, the scent of lavender and her ant’s comforting embrace temporarily pushing aside the weight of the interview. "Foi bom” (It was good) she mumbled, pulling away slightly. “Galvão knew Dad well, that's for sure” y/n’s changed to English, hoping it’d be okay to use the language she didn’t have to think so hard to answer back in.

Both women sat by the outdoor sitting area of the room, the crash of the waves a comforting distraction as y/n ate the last bits of the cheese bread that were being served all day during the interviews on the anniversary and promotions for the new Netflix show.

"I believe everything's going well for the dinner latter tonight” the younger offered, more out of obligation than conviction. Viviane’s gaze sharpened, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a quiet understanding. She held Y/n’s gaze until she asked "But something troubles you, doesn't it?"

Y/n hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. It was a familiar pattern her family knew all too well, the switch to English, the fiddling, the lack of glint in the eyes she had inherited from Ayrton.

Taking a deep breath, y/n confessed, "It's just…all these interviews, all these stories about Dad. I feel like everyone knew a part of him I never did."

A shadow flickered across Viviane’s face, a brief echo of the grief they both still carried. She reached out, gently squeezing Y/n's hand. "My love" she began, her voice soft yet firm “Beco was a complex man. Even those closest to him couldn't fully grasp him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature on the track, but off it…" she paused, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "He was a private man, and yes, perhaps a little distant at times. He lived for his racing, dedicating every fiber to it."

Y/n nodded, a familiar ache tightening her chest. "It's not that I blame him," she said quietly. "He was the best."

Viviane’s smile softened. "He was, my darling. But being the best came at a cost. It left little room for the mundane, the everyday things that build memories."

A flicker of a childhood memory sparked in Y/n's mind – the faint scent of her father's cologne, the warmth of his hand enveloping hers as they walked through a park. They weren't grand gestures, but they were hers, proof of a love that existed beyond trophies and championships.

The elder saw the shift in Y/n's eyes, the glimmer of a forgotten memory. "Não se compare com o Galvão ou com qualquer outro, meu amor” (Don't compare yourself to Galvão or the others, my love) she said gently. "Você é a filha dele. Você conheceu o Beco, o homem com o mesmo olhar que o seu” (You are his daughter. You knew Beco, the man with the same eyes as yours)

Y/n's gaze drifted out to the bustling Miami cityscape, a blur compared to the vivid image forming in her mind's eye – a playful smile on her father's face as he taught her how to say pão de queijo. It was a fleeting memory, but a precious one nonetheless.

The stories, though fragmented, were pieces of a larger puzzle, a picture of her father that was starting to take shape, not just as a legendary driver, but as a man capable of love, laughter, and quiet moments of joy.

As they finished their lunch, Viviane placed a comforting hand on Y/n's cheek. "Go now, my darling," she said, her voice soft yet strong. "Celebrate your father, honor his memory. But don't forget to celebrate the love you shared, the love that lives on within you."

Y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, this time tears of gratitude for the woman who had been a constant source of love and support throughout her life. Leaning in, they embraced tightly. "Obrigada, tia. Por tudo" (Thank you, antie. For everything) she whispered, the words thick with emotion.

As she left the hotel room later, for another round of interviews before the official dinner, Y/n went to the window, gazing out at the ocean once again, taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Obrigada, pai. Por tudo.” (Thank you, dad. For everything). It was a simple phrase, but for her, it held the weight of a lifetime of love and an unspoken promise to keep his legacy alive.

"And these aren’t tears because you’re gone, But for all the years that we lost, All those times I missed that love, Had it just for a moment"

As the night dawned in Miami, the heat dissipated but the humidity continued to clung to the city like a second skin. Y/n bustled around the room, a flurry of nervousness. The dinner to celebrate Ayrton Senna’s legacy started in a couple of hours and although the event had been meticulously planned for weeks, and by at least 30 people, the weight of the world felt concentrated on Y/n shoulder’s, the formal host to the dinner.

Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower waist, beads of water clinging to his dark braids. He stopped short at the sight of Y/n, a smile spreading across his face as he took sight of her sat perched on the edge of the bed, a faded white t-shirt of his hanging loosely on her frame, a white towel turbaned around her wet hair.

"Planning on hitting the town like that?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Although" he added, his voice dropping a touch lower, "I do love the look."

Y/n laughed, a sound that banished the last vestiges of worry from Lewis's heart. "Not quite," she said, her smile widening. "I’m trying to figure out what to post"

He noticed her phone held open on the bed, displaying two video options. As he walked closer, his bare chest brushing against hers for a fleeting moment – a small reminder of the intimacy they shared – Y/n looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a light he hadn't yet seen earlier in the day.

"Help me choose" she said, her voice filled with a newfound energy.

He picked her up and sat her on his laps, occupying her place by the edge of the bed, the scent of his shower gel a subtle but pleasant counterpoint to the sweet aroma of the lotion she had applied. He leaned over to see the two videos.

The first one, showed a baby Y/n, barely a year old, toddling through a sun-dappled garden, her chubby arms flailing as she chased a flurry of brightly colored butterflies. In the background, Ayrton with a gentle smile on his face, playfully swatting the butterflies away from his daughter.

The second video, showed a slightly older Y/n, around two years-old, in a swimming pool. Ayrton, submerged in the water next to her, was demonstrating how to blow bubbles. Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes, mimicked his actions, creating a flurry of glistening bubbles that danced around her face.

"The bubble one. Something about that mischievous gleam in your eyes always has me hooked” Lewis said, amusement dancing in his voice

Y/n laughed, a sound so genuine and unburdened that it made Lewis's heart skip a beat. "I was always a rowdy thing" she admitted, a playful glint in her own eyes.

"A charming one, at that" Lewis confirmed, reaching out to kiss her shoulder. Picking the video, Lewis handed the phone back to her. "Let the world see that side to you" Y/n grinned, tapping on the screen to schedule the post.

She got up and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed, and a few minutes later Lewis walked into Y/n intently listening to her phone on speaker, as she fiddled with a stray curl as she spoke.

"Adriane" she soothed; her voice laced with a warmth that cut through the phone's static. "Você está indo como minha convidada, lembra?” (You're coming as my guest, remember?)

A nervous laugh tinkled on the other end. “Eles sabem disso?” (Do they know that?). Andriane, Ayrton's last girlfriend and a prominent Brazilian television personality.

Y/n bit her lip, a pang of sympathy shooting through her. "Eu sei.” (I do know) she sighed. "Eu sei que eles nunca realmente te aceitaram, mas você era diferente. Você foi a única que ele me apresentou” (I know they never really accepted you, but you were different. You were the only one he introduced to me."

A brief silence followed, then Adriane spoke, her voice softer now. "Ele queria uma família, Y/n. Uma família para você. Ele sempre falava isso, seu futuro, com ele” (He wanted a family, Y/n. A family for you. He talked about it all the time, your future, with him)

Y/n's heart clenched. Memories flickered – fleeting glimpses of her father smiling at her from across a dinner table, his eyes holding a tenderness she hadn't quite understood at the time. Perhaps, she thought, there had been more to those moments than she'd realized.

"Obrigada Adriane, por tudo. Por ter sido parte da vida dele, e por ser parte da minha, do seu jeito.” (Thank you Adriane, for everything. For being a part of his life, and for being a part of mine, in your own way) she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Adriane sniffled softly and then laughed “Você é tão charmosa quanto ele, Senninha” (You are as much of a charmer as he was, Senninha) a sound that banished the last traces of tension. "Vai dar tudo certo.” (Everything will be alright)

With a final exchange of goodbyes, Y/n hung up. Glancing over at Lewis, who was attempting to catch the few Portuguese words he could understand. She took a deep breath. "My family’s not gonna make this any easier" she sighed, her voice hesitant.

Lewis turned and reached for her, pulling her by the waist with a questioning look etched on his face. Y/n, feeling a flicker of anxiety, explained the conversation, but mostly of the unwavering loyalty she felt towards the woman who held such a significant piece of her father's story.

As she finished, Lewis placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding as you gave him a sad smile and nod.

"It doesn't matter how long it's been" Lewis continued, his voice firm yet gentle. "Grief doesn't have a deadline."

Y/n remained silent, the weight of his words settling in. He knew the anniversary was a constant reminder, a punch to the gut every year. He could only imagine the whirlwind of emotions it brought – the bittersweet memories mixed with the crushing weight of what could have been.

"It feels unfair, sometimes…" she started, her voice catching signaling she wouldn’t complete her thoughts. Lewis tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. "It is unfair," he agreed, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

Y/n leaned into his touch, seeking solace in his words and the steady beat of his heart. The dam finally broke, and a light sob went thought her body. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. Lewis held her close, whispering reassurances against her hair, letting her feel without judgment.

"Every year," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "it's like a punch to the gut. A reminder of all the birthdays, holidays, just…everyday moments I missed with him." Her voice cracked. "Everyone has stories, memories. They remember his laugh, his jokes, his warmth. All I have are these…flashes of moments, barely enough to string together a semblance of who he was."

Lewis didn't try to fix it, to offer empty platitudes. He simply held her gaze as she spoke, a silent promise etched in his eyes. He wouldn't try to replace the memories she never had, but he would be a part of her future, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.

“It's okay to mourn the future that was stolen from you” he whispered, his voice gentle, as Y/n leaned into his touch, a flicker of something akin to peace flickering in her eyes. "Do you think he would have liked me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The question hung heavy in the air. It was a question she'd probably grappled with for years, a silent fear gnawing at the edges of her grief. Lewis knew he couldn't give her a definitive answer, but he could offer her the solace of a possibility.

"There's no doubt he would have loved you fiercely." he said, his voice firm with conviction. “And he would have been so proud of the woman you've become."

Silence settled between them once more, but this time it was a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For being here, for listening, for understanding."

Y/n turned, her eyes meeting his in the mirror, a fresh wave of tear forming in her eyelids. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"These aren't sad tears" she explained, wiping away at her eyes "They're just…wish you were here' kind of tears… For this" Y/n gestured at the phone on the counter. "For the celebration, for being surrounded by people who loved him. I just wish he could be here too."

Her voice softened, an acceptance in her eyes. The pain and loss would always be there, a part of her story. But there was also space for joy, for celebrating his life, and for building a future for herself.

As he pulled her into a warm embrace, Lewis whispered into her ear, "He is here, Y/n. In you, in your strength, in the mischief you still carry in your eyes. Every step you take forward is partly because of his love for you."

They stood there for a moment longer, a silent conversation passing between them. Y/n pulled away, wiping the last vestiges of moisture from her cheeks.

"Alright then" she said, a playful glint back in her eyes. "Let's go celebrate Dad. And show Miami a little Brazilian hospitality."

Lewis grinned. "Lead the way" his arms wrapping her and turning her around so he could kiss her.

The 30th anniversary of his death, although grim and a meticulously planned affair, held a significance that went beyond events, interview and RSVPs. It was a celebration of a life well-lived, a father cherished, and a daughter determined to carry his legacy forward, one mischievous bubble at a time.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

[henrioo]

✦ ── SOMEONE WHO WANTS YOU: WHITEBEARD CREW

Relationships: Platonic! WhiteBeard Crew x Child! Reader, Platonic! Edward Newgate x Child! Reader, Platonic! Marco x Child! Reader, Platonic! Thatch x Gn! Reader, Platonic! Ace x Gn! Reader, Platonic! Izo x Child! Reader

Warnings: Mention of child abuse

Synopsis: What to do when no one in this world wants you? And what to do when for the first time you find someone who wants you?

Word count: 1,9k

Notes: This is my first imagine after a while without writing so I might be a bit rusty, I apologize for the translation English is not my main language. I'm going to apologize for the pronouns, the idea is to write with a neutral reader but how I translate the fics is difficult, since the neutral in Portuguese and English are different. I ask that you forgive me and read Imagining the pronouns that feel most comfortable

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

His life was difficult from the beginning, his mother was the lover of a married boy from the small island where he lived, so when he found out that he had impregnated his mistress, he didn't like to become aggressive and abandon her. Your mom could have handled that awful situation in any number of ways, but she decided that blaming you for screwing up her life was the best way to go, so when you were born expecting to be welcomed with open arms and comfort, you were met with stares. disgust and disgust.

Of course, you weren't at fault, you were just a child like any other, pure and sinless. At first your mother wasn't really bad, as long as you didn't cry and cuddle her things would be fine. But as you grew up and became more like your biological father, something inside her awakened. A terrible fury awoke. It was then that the abuses prompted.

You weren't exactly rich, but soon she started to lose control and spend all her money on gambling, she started stealing both meals and even selling her clothes or toys to get more money. When you reached the age of twelve, it was clear from your appearance the suffering life you had had, your old and dirty clothes, your hair and skin not cared for, your eyes without hope and life. You're living in a world that made it clear it didn't want you, so life seemed meaningless.

So you ran away. Of course, your "mother" didn't mind going after you, maybe for her it was even better that the focus of all her anger finally disappeared. You ran as far as your legs could take you, farther than the small town they lived in. It was clear that you couldn't leave the island being so young and alone, so all you could do was run to a neighboring town that was further away from where you were born. At least there you could guarantee that you would be safe and far enough away from your former guardian.

It wasn't easy, you were small and fragile, you had to live off the pity of others and steal food in most cases. The adults were cruel and some even attacked you when they saw you stealing, throwing stones or leftover rotten food. Don't you think the people who want to help you all had their own problems, who would want a stupid kid to support? You knew that nobody wanted you, not your mother, not your father, not even those adults in the new city. You were just a burden. That's what you believed.

Then one day you saw the market getting more crowded, lots of unknown people were walking around and the traders looked both happy and worried at the same time, you weren't curious why. Getting ready for another day you bumped into a young man, the trick was simple: pretend to have accidentally bumped into someone and steal their wallet quickly. You were already getting better as the months went by, but just as you turned to run towards the alleys, a hand firmly gripped your wrist and you were forced to stay put.

"Easy there little one, you have faster em-yoi" The yellow haired guy said laughing, how did he realize that you stole his wallet? Desperation began to course through his veins and his stomach twisted at the thought of the motivation he could receive.

"What do you have there, Marco?" Another man approached, he had a long chestnut color and was carrying several bags. Next to him was another younger boy, shirtless and with black hair.

"What is it, a child?" The black haired one asked looking at you, he looked curious and confused.

"A petty thief, I guess" Marco, you seemed to understand, said and then took back the small bag of coins from your hand. You instinctively started pulling your arm hard as the tears started to flow, you didn't want to stand there and find out what your motivation for stealing was.

"What?! I can't believe you were stolen by a child!" The black-haired one spoke laughing, for him everything seemed like a big joke.

"I didn't get robbed, Ace-yoi" Marco corrected "I caught him before they could get away" He then turned to you, his eyes were serious though not causing the anger and disgust you were used to seeing. "Aren't you going to explain yourself? Small-yoi" He chuckled.

"Poor thing, he must be scared with that scowl on his face... Don't talk to him, talk to me, yes?" The man with the topknot placed the bags on the floor as he knelt down to be at your height, he reached out with his arm as if he was going to catch you. Scared, you simply screamed while using your legs that were loose to defend yourself, the problem was that you hit the guy square in the face.

"Thatch!" Marco and Ace screamed together and quickly his arm was released as both men turned to help their friend who was on his ass on the ground and holding his nose that was now bleeding.

You didn't wait another second before running through the crowd at te market. You heard voices shouting behind you but didn't turn around to find out if they were following you. When you were far from the city, deep in the woods, and your feet were already hurting, you knew you had run enough. You threw yourself against a tree while catching your breath, you had run too far and you hadn't even been able to eat, so now you were tired and hungry.

Not having the courage to go back to the market and have the chance to meet the same men and receive even worse punishment, you decided to curl up in the grass and get some sleep. Maybe at night you could go back and try to eat leftovers from the restaurants, it wasn't worth the risk of getting hurt if you went back too soon. So closing your eyes you let the light breeze and ambient heat settle you as they carried you off to dreamland.

Something was wrong. You were sure of that when you woke up with a jump, you frantically looked around, there didn't seem to be anything wrong, but your whole body said otherwise. You got up and started running while looking back trying to figure out if you were being followed. You could hear the sea and must have been starting to get closer to shore when you hit something firm and landed on your butt.

You screamed in pain and looked up in confusion, that's when you saw… A giant! You had never seen someone so big and immediately your eyes widened in shock as you thought how it was possible for someone to be so big. He had his hair tied back in a headband and wore a nice outfit but he was definitely not an ordinary person, in the background you could see a huge ship and several people walking with boxes and bags, both inside and outside.

"Then that's it?" He spoke, not to you, but to some men beside you.

"Look, we were going to look for you and you came running towards us!" Ace you recognized said excitedly "You gotta show me that kick again shorty, Thatch is still pissed off that you broke his nose!" Then he burst out laughing.

"Don't laugh about it" A man with long hair and strange traditional clothing spoke with some disappointment. He wore makeup and was extremely handsome. "Isn't this child too small?" He said looking at you.

"I told you he was tiny" Marco shrugged "But he had more quick ones to rob me in the market today, I thought it would get your attention, oyaji-yoi" He said looking at the huge man.

"Hm… let's see" the man raised his hand towards you and you immediately tried to run, but he was faster by grabbing your shirt from behind and pulling you off the ground. You fit in the palm of the man's hand and now too far off the ground you couldn't run away. "So, brat, what's your name?"

You looked around desperately, who were these people and why were they so interested in you? You initially thought they just wanted to punish you for stealing one of the members, but now your head was spinning and you thought you could be sold into slavery. You didn't want that! Then your body reacted and you bit down with all your strength on the man's palm, of course that didn't seem to have any effect, the only thing that changed was the man's face, which formed an irritated frown.

Tears were already starting to flow and you curled into a ball while thinking what they would do to you... That's when everyone started laughing, your face burned in embarrassment as you looked at everyone without understanding anything.

"They has grit, I like that!" The man holding you would laugh like he heard the best joke in the world.

"I told you" Marco laughed "When he realizes he's in an ugly situation he reacts, smart brat…"

The tall man placed you on the ground and knelt down to appear less threatening, the others beside him were smiling as if everything was going extremely well. You didn't understand exactly what was going on, but you were too scared to run away, so you just stood there waiting for someone to explain the situation.

"Let's try again, what's your name brat?" He said and now he looked a little less intimidating, although his face was still serious.

"(Y/n)" you said in a low voice, afraid to answer, you didn't know what they wanted with you.

"Hm… A good name for a little fighter… Tell me, are you alone?" You shyly nod your head "Don't you have a family?" Again you wave with a certain fear, then the man opens a gentle smile while moving his hand to lightly caress your hair "So come be my son, become part of my family, brat! You have fighter blood and don't give up easily , I like that" He chuckled again.

Did you look at him confused, son? What was this man saying? "You… You're not going to sell me into slavery?" You asked shyly, the men around made a little shocked face and looked really offended by your question.

"Slave? We are pirates but we still have morals!" The long haired man spoke.

"Yes, you don'twhat do you need to worry about, no one here is going to sell you or hurt you-yoi" Marco smiled patting him on the head "We just want you to be part of the family."

"Do you want?" His eyes glistened with newfound hope, were you really listening to that? Did anyone want you? "Do you want me? Really?"

The men seemed to understand their predicament, their gazes becoming softer and their smiles gentler.

"Yes, I want you as my son" The huge man said "My name is Edward Newgate and from today you are part of our family, brat, so don't worry about anything anymore, understood?"

You nodded as you felt tears welling up, for the first time being from joy. You were now wanted, you were now part of a family, with a father, brothers and you would have people wanting and loving you. You finally understood what this love you saw on the streets was and you were happy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, if you can tell me what you think I'll really appreciate it, it's my first story after a lockdown so I'm a little unsure, you can ask for a story too!

[askhatchetfieldhigh]

Everyone what languages ​​can you speak besides English?

I speak some Spanish! I'm a bit rusty, but my abuela doesn't speak English so I know some phrases so I can still talk to her.

-- Ruth!

Some Latin. I took it my freshman and sophomore year for religious purposes. My parents are Italian, so I've picked up some of that too.

~ Grace Chasity 🙏

Uhm... just English. I have some family members who speak Polish, so I can understand bits of it, but I can't speak it.

**Peter Spankoffski

I had to take Portuguese my sophomore and junior year to fill out my school language credit. Does that count? I come from a Spanish and Portuguese background, so I really should know more of how to speak it...

> Steph

JUST ENGLISH. I'm FRENCH CANADIAN but I can't SPEAK FRENCH.

- MAX

I know some Japanese from watching anime! I can speak it pretty well!!

~~ Richie :3

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER I

Hi, how are you? This is the English version of "NÃO HÁ LUGAR COMO O LAR - PERCY/NICO AU COLEGIAL ". I usually write in Portuguese, but as I saw a lot of people who read in other languages, I decided to write this one in English too. Admittedly, I used Google and corrected what I could. I hope this is an acceptable translation, even if my writing is a bit rusty in English.

Now, for those who don't know what the story is about, here's an improvised summary: Nico is returning from Italy after spending two years there and meets Percy, the best friend he left behind, but who kept in touch in that time away. The rest develops from this reunion, and very quickly! In this story I will try to be more direct.

Thanks for the support! And good reading.

"Look who's back! The Italian boy.” Nico just had time to turn around before he was pressed against broad shoulders and strong arms that hugged him so tightly they lifted him into the air, knocking him out of breath and sending his books and bag tumbling to the floor, the door of his school locker being slammed with a loud bang.

“Perseus Jackson!”

"Only my mother calls me that."

But Percy was laughing, twirling him around in the air as people around him stared at them. Well, there was a good reason. They were right in the middle of the hallway where there were several lockers, leading to the entrance of the classrooms. Nico couldn't resist, he wrapped his arms around Percy's neck and hugged him as tight as Percy had did, burying his face against Percy's neck.

"I missed you.”

"I missed you too." Nico muttered back and pulled away, finally getting to see Percy's face.

Eyes as green as he remembered, nose straight and upturned, thin lips and wide in a pretty smile. What had changed was Percy’s height, nearly seven feet tall, and all those muscles. Where he remembered a shy and a little sad boy had turned into this... this happy and full of life man. Confident. Although he could still see the kindness and friendship that they used to have, this thing between them… having to deal with those feelings so openly still was something new. He couldn't help but compare himself to the past, where he was too young and Percy was... Percy was Percy, opening the door to his home to a sad, lonely little boy.

"Two years, huh? I thought you were never coming back."

“Hm.”

"Let me see you better." It wasn't like Percy had never seen him up close or every day for those two years on video calls. Nico had forgotten how intense Percy could be, full of touches and smiles.

Percy brought one of his hands to his face and brushed his hair back, exposing his face completely. And him? Well, Nico just stared back at Percy, as focused on the boy as Percy was on him. The truth is that all the calls and video calls didn't compare to what reality showed him, making him question what had happened to make him run away from Percy, from those gestures that felt so… so affectionate and so attentive. How dare he do this to them? Leaving the person he loved most behind? He was the most cowardly person in the whole world.

"Um... Percy? Put me down, yeah?” Nico did his best to stay serious.

"Why?”

"Don’t you have shame?”

"Have I?

Then, Percy smiled even more and finally put him on the ground to then loosen his grip on his face and waist, not pulling away completely, but leaning a little over him, as if there was something in his face that Percy needed to see more closely.

"How have you been? Why didn't you tell me you were coming back this week?”

"Why? Would you pick me up at the airport?”

“Of course, my friends deserve the best.”

“And what would that be?”

“Me, of course.”

Nico swore he was trying to be serious. The way things were going, Percy wanted something more and at the moment he wasn't ready. But it was no use, Nico grabbed Percy's shoulders and laughed; he thought it was one of the worst lines he had ever heard.

"Hey, don't laugh in my face. I'm a nice guy.”

“And very humble, too.”

"Very.” Percy said and finally released him, leaning against his side in front of the lockers, making Nico sigh in relief and picking up his things from the floor, putting them in the locker.

Sometimes Percy was a little too much for him; that was what Nico had discovered over the years in the thousands of conversations they'd had in that time. He didn't know when Percy had changed from the introverted boy to this bubbly person, but he liked it. And hated it at the same time, making his stomach flutter with anxiousness.

"Now really, how have things been?"

“You know, the same." Nico shrugged and closed the closet, taking out the books he would use that day, putting them in his bag. “Bianca came with me.”

"College?” Percy asked. “And you?”

Nico shrugged once more and leaned back against Percy's side, facing him closely again, looking at him through his lashes, trying not to show how he really felt. He didn't think he'd ever would get used to his friend's good looks, now doubled as the smooth features of adolescence gave way to defined muscles and an angular, strong face, the crooked smile, the intense gaze, the confident attitude... and... well, all of that. And much more.

"What about it?"

"What brings you back?"

“I missed home.” Nico nodded to himself. “For a while I thought it was Verona, but… I kept wondering what’s going on around here.”

"So, you decided to come back?”

“Why not? I'm turning eighteen in a few months. I wanted to use this last year and see the guys again.

Well… he wanted to see a few people again and one of them was right in front of him, looking at him as if he wanted to… as if Percy wanted to see what was inside his mind. And as it used to happen, he was the first to lose in this little game to see who looked away first.

“So… did you miss it and came to stay or…”

“I'm here to stay. Hades will come later.”

"I’m glad.” Percy said, still smiling, something more sincere and cute, like he got tired of flirting. "Maybe we can see each other later. Wanna eat something?”

"Later when?”

"Today. After basketball practice. Want to see me play?”

"Oh no! That's what I was afraid of! The high school cliché!” But he was laughing, and Percy was laughing along with him, reminding him of old times.

“You know, you can't talk about me. You were all cute and shy and you came back looking like you stepped out of an eighty’s movie. Leather jacket, ripped pants and that… is it eyeliner?” Percy approached him once more and gently cupped his chin, just another excuse to touch him, of that Nico was sure; not that he was complaining. Percy could do that and much more. “You're the perfect good boy gone bad.”

“I'm still a good boy.”

That made Percy stop for a moment, still with his hands on Nico's face, and stare at him for a long time only for a crooked smile to appear along with dimples.

"Is that so? How much of a good boy are you?”

"I don't think you'll ever find out."

One more silence and one more look that in the past would send him running for cover faster than a rocket. However, that Nico had been left behind along with his innocence.

“Hm.” Was all Percy said for a few moments, and Nico swore he was moving closer towards his face when the bell rang, interrupting them.

"Right.” Nico cleared his throat, straightening his spine and looking around. “I think I have to go.

“What's your first class?”

" English class. I need to stop by the secretary first.”

" I'll go with you.

Nico didn't even try to deny it, he had missed Percy so much that stretching things a little further wouldn't hurt. He pushed himself away from the locker and, again, something he didn't expect happened. Percy took the backpack from his shoulder, carrying it for him and with the other hand, intertwined their fingers together, pulling him smoothly through the almost empty corridor towards the administration of the school.

***

It was strange to be there after so long. The cream-colored walls were still the same, there were the same blue benches and black tables, the same wide hallways and the same cafeteria, painted the same pastel color. He even managed to recognize some familiar faces among the younger ones. It was a dejavu, except that now he saw things from above, in a distant, almost displaced perspective, where before his days were permeated by anxiety and uncertainty, now everything seemed easier and colorless, even if a little painful, but unimportant and maybe even comfortable. Maybe it was because Percy was still holding his hand, talking to the same secretary as two years ago, a woman in her fifties, always smiling and helpful.

In the end, it didn't take long for him to get his admissions papers that he would need to show his professors.

“So, English class? Double? I also have it. Let me see your schedule.”

Nico shrugged and took his class schedule out of his bag. He watched Percy take the paper from his hands, frown in concentration and hand the paper back to him, "We have most of our classes together. “Are you in the arts and music clubs? I'm into the music too. Guitar classes.”

“Seemed to be the easiest.”

"I bet.”

"Shut up.” Nico shoved Percy by the shoulders and walked out of the office. Few people knew that he had a knack for creative things and maybe he played something for Percy over the years. Well, that was none of other people's business.

“Nico, the classes have changed! We are using the auditoriums.”

"Of course.” Nico rolled his eyes and this time he wasn't even surprised when Percy reached out and touched his shoulder, his big hands sliding down his back to his waist, gently guiding him in the right direction. In fact, he didn't remember this school having an auditorium, so he let himself be guided by Percy, a warm and comfortable presence at his side.

***

When they arrived at the auditorium, the class had already started. Professor Johnson wasn't the type to mind being late if the class wasn't disrupted, that’s why Percy stood at the main entrance to the room, away from the teacher's gaze, preferring to watch Nico go down to the podium where the teacher was and deliver the paper for her to sign.

What could Percy say? Nico was a much more interesting sight at that moment, long legs covered by tight jeans, perky ass, small waist, broad shoulders, deep-set black eyes and a small mouth that always seemed to be bitten and reddened, skin tanned, looking so soft that he couldn't resist the urge to touch him as soon as he could, just to test the theory. He admitted it, he was going too fast, but two years was enough time to know if you liked someone, wasn't it? Not counting the seven years before that. Perhaps he should have gone to Italy with Nico when Hades offered, always generous even if absent most of the time.

He was snapped out of his reverie when Nico finished talking to the teacher and walked towards him, carefree and slow, as if he had all the time in the world, parading around in his punk clothes and unpretentious attitude. Why avoid something he knew would happen sooner or later? If Percy could, he would kiss Nico then and there, to end this torture that had gone on for so many years. But he could control himself, if he had waited two years, he could wait a few more days.

"All went well?”

Nico just nodded and took his hand, leading him towards the middle of the auditorium where they could get a good view of the teacher and hear what she was talking about. Percy didn't even have time to appreciate Nico taking the initiative and touching him of his own free will, although he felt he should be more concerned with the reaction of the people around them, the indiscreet stares and murmurs buzzing in his ear; he didn't exactly date boys in public, especially since Annabeth was always around to make everyone think he was with her. It was what it was, he just hoped he didn't have to punch some faces. Because he would, and gladly.

“Per?” He heard someone call him and there was only one person who still called him that. "What chapter are we in?"

"Seven.”

"Thanks.” Nico muttered more quietly than before and began to read, completely focused on the book and what the teacher was saying. Percy was left to wonder how anyone could be so cute. So lovely. Watching a small crease appear between Nico's brows, his lips set into a frustrated pout until he seemed to find what he was looking for in the book, relaxing against the seat and settling down to jot down quick notes as the teacher discussed the matter.

Then a noise came from the row of chairs above his, someone tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around and there was Grover, his oldest childhood friend.

"Who's the new kid?"

“Nico.”

“That quiet, sad boy Sally had practically adopted?' Your Italian boy? Now I understand the obsession.”

"Dude!” Percy whispered furiously. He wasn't that obsessed…was he? Percy looked to the side, just to make sure Nico hadn't heard, seeing that the boy was still focused on the class and turned back to Grover: “We'll talk later.”

"As you wish, don Juan."

"Whatever.”

Percy faced forward, leaned over Nico, seeing where they were in the book, and ignored everything else. When Nico pushed the book toward him so the two of them could read, Percy didn't hesitate. He put his arm around Nico's shoulder, put their heads together and began to read. Maybe be if he could concentrate, the little voice in the back of his mind would stop reminding him that this would lead to more trouble than he was willing to deal with.

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

I hope you liked it. Updates always in Fridays or early if a have the time.

Thanks again!

[citruslullabies]

Bom dia Flaire!

So, I've been thinking in ask this question in a while now, because I don't know if you already answered a question like that but, do you speak more than one language?

I speak 2 languages, and I really love learn them

I'm Brazilian so my native language is portuguese, and writing in english can be pretty hard :'D, but I think this is the fun part of learning a new language

What do you think?

Hi hon!

So I actually do speak more than one language

I speak Spanish and German, and English (obviously).

I'm a bit rusty on my German though

And I get that! You can write in Portuguese hon, I'll translate it

[kevjrr]

helloooo kev!!

15, 26, 47 and 50 of course 🫶🏼

Hiii, anchy!!

15. you can only wear one colour for the rest of your life, what colour is it?

Probably black, people say I look good in it and well, I love black clothes (half of my closet is black hahah)

26. you can only read one book for the rest of your life. what book is it?

This is too tough of a question😭

I think Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo because it’s amazing, literally everything about it is so so good!! I love the characters too and my Dad gave it to me for my birthday, he had never given me a book before soooo this one is special haha

47. what languages do you know/want to learn?

I speak English, French, Hindi, creol, marathi (haven’t spoken this one in ages, I’m prolly rusty by now)…little bit of Spanish and Portuguese and I want to get better at these two!!

50. I LOVE YOU TOO SM🫶🏽🫶🏽

[cadecorvus]

I know Halloween/Día De Los Muertos has passed, but for my favorite holiday I wanted to try one of my favorite songs from Disney's Coco! Many apologies if some of the pronunciation is rough! I tried my best, but my Spanish is a bit rusty and I sometimes get it mixed up with my Portuguese pronunciation. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

[konako]

Not sure if this has been explored but what are your headcanons on Ruby’s ability to change during blood moons and eclipses?

Hi! I've tried explaining my headcanons on it before.

About the peak (and trick) of a Blood Moon. And the not so critical, only slight changes of a super and a micromoon. Those ramblings mostly focused on the battle power of the werewolf and the wolf's influence on the human mind, body and behaviour.

And I never get tired of talking about Ruby Lucas, so—!!

I've ranted (a lot) about how I believe the general* transformation works, from I interpreted some details of canon and some bits of dialogue and sound.

And going from that, I think I can explain how I view the differences regarding the transformation during these periods.

*by general, I mean the transformation that occurs naturally, as the wolf's instinct and the moon compels it: happening during a full moon, the peak of Wolfstime. Outside of this circumstance, we might indulge the idea of a voluntary transformation, that is willed and triggered by the human mind, only aided by the moon, but not irresistibly urged by it.

So, stay with me. A bit of work, before we start. And some tangents. But we eventually get there.

TL;DR: What Happens During a Blood Moon and A Solar Eclipse.

The true transformation behind the myth of a feral, uncontrollable, dangerous beast is the one triggered by the Full Moon. The period people came to call The Wolfstime. When wolves appear, kill and feast.

That's the case, because transformation is, truly, irresistible. The literal meaning of the word. It cannot be resisted. No will power can suppress it. Not even a trained wolf, which is later the case for Ruby, can resist it fully.

And an untrained wolf, — better yet, a werewolf that does not know they're a werewolf — will transform, uncontrollably, unconsciously, unwillingly. That's their nature and they cannot fight it.

I've talked about (sorry, it's in portuguese, I will translate it later) about how I think werewolves can, within a limit, hold back — only hold back — the transformation during a Full Moon.

[Ruby takes off the Cloak during the peak of Wolfstime and has time to talk to David and run down outside before changing]

They can't resist it completely, however. It's only a matter of time and when their energy to fight it runs out, before they're consumed by the change.

We can say that is actually dangerous for a werewolf to resist a Full Moon transformation by willpower alone. 

It’s not a practice that should be encouraged.

Ruby learned it the hard way.

For the times where a transformation is inconvenient or simply unwanted, Ruby has the Cloak and that's a magical, physical solution that doesn't involve her mind and her direct interaction/relationship with the wolf within, so it's not taken into account for this, but think with me:

If a werewolf fights back, on their strength and stubbornness alone, the transformation during a Full Moon, they're resisting the wolf and its nature. And that's one of the ways a werewolf will black out and lose control completely, being, in turn, controlled by the beast.

After 28 years without turning, Ruby feared she had become "rusty", when it came to controlling the wolf. She asked to be locked in a makeshift cage so that, if she lost control, the wolf wouldn't hurt anyone. Even aware of what made the wolf fight back and negate the human mind, she tried to fight it, afraid of that that the worst could happen. The fear of it manifested it. The transformation took over and she blacked out.

So it's not wise to try and resist the transformation for too long, or the wolf will get angry and the human mind will be suppressed in return.

Like was the case with Ruby during Child Of The Moon. That was a Ruby that had learned absolute control, ages ago! And still fell vulnerable to that trap.

She had mastered control, she used the wolf for battle, for espionage, for transport. She would come from and to battle, changing back and forth, always in control, always aware of who was the enemy and who was a friend to keep safe. 

She trusted the wolf. She trusted the control she had learned and she used it for protecting her friends. Giving them a head start, helping them get into a dangerous castle, sniffing out Knights, holding off an army alone. She was one with the wolf and that made her incredibly powerful. 

And she was that powerful for years. For an entire war or two. She was the third — and arguably The Physically Strongest — part of a fearsome Trio that defeated the Evil Queen. 

Fearsome is the word.

“I’m glad the wolf’s on our side”, is the sentiment.

Ruby’s strength was notable, in many ways. For better or for worse. To the point of being appreciated for being used for good.

But, oh, it only took her one night of doubt (preceded by 28 years of shitty self-esteem), for Ruby to lose control and, with it, her strength.

When she finally regained trust in her control, she felt empowered enough to even hold back the transformation for a bit while she finished a conversation...!

And later, way way wayyy later down the line, displaying her control in the opposite direction: she’s so secure in her ability to draw and command her own power, that she flashes her eyes golden, despite still wearing the cloak that prevents the transformation and suppresses the wolf.

And! I’m not done: She offers a ride—A literal wolf-back ride—to someone that has most likely never ridden a werewolf before. But she’s that confident in her control, that she takes on the responsibility to keep Dorothy safe (both from falling off a very fast and intense run, and from the Flying Monkeys that are pursuing them.)

And she’s so confident in that control, she convinces Dorothy Gale to trust her. (That’s her greatest feat in life)

So, okay. 

That set us up to talk about The Transformation during the Blood Moon and Eclipses.

What have we got to work with? 👏

• The Transformation most natural is the one compelled by the Full Moon in the sky.

• A Natural Transformation should not be resisted for long, at the risk of losing control.

• A Full Moon is technically always in the sky.

The moon is completely in the night sky more often than not! What qualifies as full or not is the light of the sun that the moon is reflecting back to Earth and what portion of it is hidden by the Earth’s shadow. How much of the moon is visible is what makes it full or not.

So we can argue that an experienced werewolf, with enough practice and control over their transformation, can draw power from the moon even when it’s not entirely visible, even when it’s not completely illuminated by the sun.

• A Blood Moon Is A Lunar Eclipse. Technically A Full Moon. Which Happens To Be Blocked By The Earth’s Shadow.

So what if this brief moment of a red/golden moon is the peak of a werewolf’s power. The strongest they can ever be, full power, beyond their usual limits, just for this short time. [...] 

This precious period of unrivaled power is caught between two moments of utter and complete vulnerability, when the moon is briefly gone from the sky and the wolf can’t be reached and a werewolf is reduced to a simple human for a time.

•  A Solar Eclipse Is Technically A New Moon. A New Moon That Happens To Block The Sun. 

Cool, we have our pieces. Let’s go.

A Transformation During A Lunar Eclipse. A Blood Moon.

It’s complicated. Two very different sizes of complicated, actually. 

One: The Actual Blood Moon, when the Full Moon Is Blood Red, when the wolf is at its most powerful state ever. 

It’s recommended that the werewolf doesn’t even try to resist the transformation. Or the wolf. It’s so strong, too strong, stronger than the werewolf is accustomed to, they probably wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, even if they tried it. They would most likely miscalculate the power required to hold back the transformation and end up losing control. 

So the protocol for a werewolf’s first Blood Moon is simple: surrender. 

Give in to the wolf.

They will not be able to fight their nature, and the dangers of losing control of the wolf are greatly magnified in this period. There’s too much at risk, when a wolf becomes feral during a Blood Moon. 

Everyone is encouraged to do their part and not anger an already juiced-up, overpowered, over-estimulated huge wolf. Thanks! 

But, as the twist goes, there’s the Lunar Eclipse portion: that brief window of time when the Wolf is at its strongest comes before and after a moment of extreme weakness, when the Wolf is so distant, it’s unreacheable, and the human is reduced to a basic, ordinary person for the time the Earth’s shadow takes to leave the surface of the Moon. 

The dangerous catch with that is, pay attention: when the sea recedes past below a normal low tide, comes the tsunami. 

So when the first moment of complete weakness takes over, it’s immediately mere minutes away from the highest surge of power the werewolf has ever experienced. 

That can knock someone off their usual control. That can be scary, anxiety-inducing, nerve-wrecking. That can make a werewolf think they will not be able to handle it. And that fear, like what happened to Ruby in 2x07, can be the very thing that makes the terror come true, and brings the monster forth. And, would you look at that, the monster has never been more powerful than now.

So, follow Anita’s advice: 

It will be like nothing you’ve ever felt before. [...] Your mind won’t want to believe it. It will tell you a wolf is invading your body, trying to take over. And if you believe that, for even a moment, you will black-out. And lose control.

A Blood Moon requires intense mental and physical preparation, fortitude, stability — or horrible things can happen. 

A werewolf must be ready for the highs and lows of this one unusual night, or it can be the difference between killing uncontrollably and taking conscious advantage of a great power. 

Now, onto new grounds...

A Transformation During A Solar Eclipse. A New Moon.

Now that’s an interesting sight.

What happens here?

Well, I know what is happening, in general nature. The moon has blocked the sun. 

But what happens then...?

If a werewolf draws power from the light that bounces off of the moon,  making an entirely illuminated moon (A Full Moon) its strongest pull, what happens when there’s no light at all, either reflecting from Earth to the Moon and back (A Blood Moon), or directly from the Sun, reflecting off the Moon (Any Other Moon).

Absolute silence? No wolf whatsoever? The faintest presence of a wolf, in the deepest corners of the mind? An ordinary human instead? 

The sky... it looks hollow. 

A black void where once was a sun, and the deepest shadow, where once was a moon. No light. No light to illuminate the moon, for it to shine back to the eye. Just the ghostly edges of the sun’s rays escaping the silhouette. The barely visible light around it, a ring surrounding it. 

You can see the moon, however, in some weird, special ways — with the right eye. With the right aid.

There it is. The weakest light, to make it visible. Shone from an extraordinary source. Extraordinary: non-ordinary. Not usual. Not what would normally illuminate the moon.

 Whosever light shines on it first, has the claim to the sight. Owing the view of the moon, for the time it can see it.

So...

Stay with me for this proposal.

What if, for the Hollow Sky, The Deep Shadow, The Darkest Moon... There is no one in control. Not the wolf, not the human. A Hollow Beast. Up for the taking.

If you can shine light on it, you can see it. 

Whoever whispers to the wolf, has it on their palm. 

Whoever has a hold of it, has its obedience. Has its loyalty. Has its control.

A very dark day, that will be.

[skepticalarrie]

Hi Allie, I think I have seen you answered some questions about your experience in England recently and know that you are actually from Brazil. Do you speak English as a mother language or just learnt it in school and only use it on the internet or on studies/works? I ask this because I only use English on the internet and read the news and still I have so many unknown words to learn... I have also learnt another language in college, and I am really into languages but I just do not feel like remembering all the vocabularies. I would like to know your experience in languages since you speak both English and Brazilian Portuguese. If the question sounds too personal to answer, please just ignore me.

Hi, darling. No, it’s okay! I will be happy to help. I’m going to answer under the cut because that's a long one:

So, the thing is… I barely spoke any english until I was like 18, I think?! I learned a bit of english at school like everyone in brazil but, honestly, what we learn is not even enough to form a coherent sentence, is it? I think the internet (but mostly songs and video games) helped a little bit when I was younger as well but I never really felt interested enough to *actually* learn a language.

What pushed me to finally learn it properly and for good was my ex. He speaks surprisingly very good english since he was younger, so that motivated me a lot. So honestly, I just decided to put a lot of effort into it because I thought it would be something useful in the future for me. And I know it sounds cliché saying that but what is going to bring your english to the next level- especially in terms of vocabulary - is to really immerse yourself as much as possible. What worked for me was to do everything I already did in portuguese also in english. So… books, podcasts, movies, songs, youtube, twitter, etc etc. Really, everything! Learning a new language as an adult can be really tricky, it’s not easy, so the only way of building a solid foundation is to get in touch with it as much as possible. I never really learned english properly, to be honest… like, actually studying. It was from reading and listening to other people talk. Plus, I also travelled a lot during that time, so it helped to improve my speaking a lot as well. And then my ex was transferred to England and I wanted to do a postgrad course there so I had a goal in mind and I studied for the IELTS test and I did pretty well!! And obviously living there and going to uni made my english 100x better. I barely spoke any portuguese while living there. I think one of the main reasons why brazilians can’t speak good english most of the time it’s because we’re lazy 😂 we look for other brazilians to speak portuguese, we try spanish before trying english. And not doing any of that and immersing myself as much as I could was the best thing I did. And of course, university helped a lot, especially with having to write stuff on more of an academic level.

Right now my life is really confusing when it comes to that hahaha I’m back living in Brazil for four years already, and in the first two I completely stopped practising, I was soooo rusty!! When I realised that, I immediately tried to get back to the things I used to do before. So I *never* see anything with subtitles in portuguese, always english or no subtitles. I only read books in portuguese when they’re originally in portuguese, otherwise, I *always* get the english version. It’s the small things and the consistency, to be honest. Coming back to blogging also helped me so much! Now I talk with you guys every single day, so I’m always practising. It helps a lot! It’s important to practice expressing yourself in english and not only listening and reading it. My speaking, though, is kind of rusty because I don’t really practice as much as I should but oh well 🫠 Sometimes I use english at work, but it’s not something that is really required at my job, it’s just a convenience I guess. So I just try to make good use of it in other areas of my life as much as I can. I know sometimes is harder because it didn’t come naturally to me as it did for some other people.. I see younger people online now, and everything is so globalized! It’s so much easier to practice and learn it. So my advice to you, anon, is simply: practice practice practice! Especially if you still feel like you’re weak in vocabulary and you’re learning it as an adult.

[astrcthesiai-archived]

My name is Mage or Star. I am a little rusty after a few months. astrcthesiai is named after the Astrothesiai which in ancient Greek terms are the constellation spirits in our skies. I am a creator, and make OCs than I pick up canon characters. I am taking my sweet time with the creator aspect of my life though. The canon characters I do pick up are those I like and do remind me of myself.

I am selective with who I follow, due to personal circumstances. I roleplay in English as it is my mother language. My grammar is in American English. You do not have to match me. I can read a little bit of Portuguese (Brazilian) and Spanish.

I am neuro-divergent. I do have hyper fixations and little bursts of energy for certain things at a time. Give me a poke if you need a reply and it has been at least a couple of weeks.

I am slow when it comes to replying things. Please do not rush me, it may take a couple of weeks for me to reply with something I feel is quality.

I unfollow those who make me uncomfortable. If it is you, please do not come after me. You are a great roleplayer in your own right. You will have another amazing partner, I'm sure.

If I am following someone you have blocked, please use blacklist/filter because I will tag the person in my posts with whom I am talking to/referring.

Do not under any circumstances pressure me in any way to unfollow someone you dislike or had a problem with. Chances are this will get you unfollowed and maybe hard-blocked. Please let me come to my own conclusions.

I will try to make use of the new mature post function for mature roleplays and tag accordingly. Should I forget, please send me an ask.

I am selective with my romantic shipping. Muns must be 20+. Muses must be 18+. Anything explicit will be placed in read-mores.

I roleplay original character x canon character, if you have a problem with this, please do not follow? I do roleplay oc x oc and canon x canon.

I expect a bio for original characters and sometimes for canon characters I do not know. If you do not have one, have a list of headcanons linked in your rules or navigation please. Or I won't follow. I need a good idea on how to roleplay with your depiction of a character or OC.

Tag your images of eye horror before following me. Thank you.

I don't like too many rules, but I will add more as a I see fit.

[1337wtfomgbbq]

Nelson: *ranting about Ayrton in portuguese*

Elio: Sorry, my portuguese is a bit rusty... does 'foda-se ele' mean 'screw him' or 'shoot him'?

Nelson: Screw him.

Elio, kicks ground: Aw man😮‍💨

[layviyu]

— ABOUT ME

WELCOME

my name's julie or julia, you can call me by any of those two!

i go by she/he, but mostly she/her! i'm also bisexual and genderfluid.

i'm from brazil, and i speak portuguese and english. apologies for any possible english mistakes on my posts since it's my second language haha. i can also understand a little bit of spanish but i'm a little rusty.

keep in mind that i'm still a minor!

MY INTERESTS

my hobbies are drawing, writing and playing games!

for games, my personal favorites are genshin, honkai impact, love and deepspace, honkai star rail, bandori and project sekai!

i am a sucker for romance! my favorite book is five feet apart (i couldn't help myself, it's soo good), my favorite movies are to all the boys i've loved before (the first one) + letters to juliet, and my favorite shows (excluding sitcoms) are stranger things and business proposal.

although i haven't watched any new animes in a while, i particularly enjoy evangelion, haikyuu and madoka magica.

i mostly listen to rock/metal, but i listen to anything, really. my top three artists are mitski, ariana grande and sza, while my favorite band is iron maiden. the only kpop groups i stan are (g)i-dle and skz, and my faves are yuqi and hyunjin!

talking about ships, for pjsk, i really like akian and shizuharu. with kpop, i'm such a dork for hyunsung. like.... show me hyunsung and depending on the interaction, i'll be giddy for a couple of hours or seven business days (i love you my darlings quokret)

in case anyone wants to add me — genshin uid: 627176824; star rail uid: 600999902

ABOUT THE BLOG

for now, i only plan to write headcanons about project sekai. but if i decide to take on another fandom, it'll probably be genshin or hsr.

but i'll make sure to warn when i begin posting things about another fandom.

[ravenlesslangblr]

So I did all of the Duolingo placement tests

Related to this post I saw a few requests to post the results of all my placement tests, so let's go! Long post and a lot of rambling ahead! So my friend and I did the tests chronologically (leaving the High Valyrian and Klingon out until the end in case we got too tired), but I'm going to group them up here in an order that makes sense.

Each of the numbers means the number of skills I've tested out of/the number of 'crowns' I got in each language. Since I got to complete the placement test 37 times in total, I could actually find out how it works. It is pretty hard to try and cheat your way through it with a language you don't know, because if the test picks up on a fact that you messed up a 'beginner sentence', it immediately sends you back to the basics. Due to this, some results were a tiny bit upsetting, but later on, I realised that this is just how the test works and is not necessarily reflective on one's language skills. Another thing that is super important - the test reflects your knowledge of the Duolingo course rather than your actual language knowledge. I could actually prove this 'theory' to myself later on with some results.

My 'main' languages aka the languages I did well on and I kind of expected to:

Irish 48 French 42 German 51 Honestly, I was a bit more open not to do so well on French since it's become quite rusty and I'm experiencing some kind of a mental block with it, but I still did quite well! As for German and Irish - I would have been so upset had I gotten a single mistake. And it has not happened in either case.

My native language: Czech 31 This one honestly made me lol, because I have made 2+ mistakes and the Duolingo course is just strange. It called me out on my use of nějaký and některý where I was like 'There's a difference? o.O' and at one point it used the verb 'left' for 'forgot', which I did figure out correctly, but it was yet another sign that the course/placement test isn't very accurate yet when it comes to Czech. Languages I did well on because they are similar to a language that i already speak: Spanish 12 Italian 14 (well, I briefly studied Italian, so some credit there as well) Portuguese 3 (surprising since I mostly guessed) Polish 24 Ukrainian 17 Yiddish 5 (I LOVED the Yiddish placement test! I will definitely try the Duolingo course)

Other languages I have done before: Welsh 3 Esperanto 9 I was quite disappointed in both of these (Welsh broke my heart!) but I think this is just a testament that the placement tests aren't reflective of your language knowledge, but of your Duolingo topics knowledge. I haven't done much of Welsh or Esperanto on Duolingo since I studied them at university. I'm not fluent in either, so it really boils down to what I was taught. More proof are the next languages Dutch 22 Scottish Gaelic 20 These are the two lanuages I have studied almost exclusively on Duolingo only. I also definitely have a better knowledge of Welsh and Esperanto than Gaelic and Dutch. But the tests went much much better for these, because I already knew the topics that Duolingo was going to ask me. And now for the Nordic languages: Swedish 18 Norwegian 16 Danish 7

Honestly, I think it's hilarious that I did better at Swedish than Norwegian, when the only reason I did well at Swedish was because of Norwegian. Also, the articles are still super confusing to me and it was a source of many frustrating mistakes! Speaking of mistakes - I don't think that the test takes into account what kind of mistakes you made. It could be a missing article (which imo is a pretty minor one) or you could pick an adjective for a verb and both of the mistakes will be marked down the same. This one was pretty frustrating and prevented me from doing well on languages that I was actually okay at. Languages I've failed and it was quite upsetting: Korean 0 Russian 0 Latin 0 I have been learning some Korean on Lingodeer (mostly reading Hangul), so I expected to utilise some of these skills on Duolingo. Not the case. My Russian - I can read and understand - just like Ukrainian that I did pretty well on in comparison.... and it all boiled down to me confusing some things and not knowing what 'a horse' was. Boom, 'let's start from the basics'. Same with Latin - I have studied it briefly and was able to understand, but I haven't touched it in a while and completely forgot some minor things, which the placement test picked up on immediately. Also! When you're not doing well, the placement test almost taunts you! They keep giving you the same stuff over and over until you remember it and it feels like there's some hope for you. But no, still back to basics! it's quite mean! haha And here's the languages I have also failed, but it wasn't surprising:

Japanese 0 Mandarin 0 Hindi 0 Arabic 0 Turkish 0 Greek 0 (this is an example of the one I thought I was doing well on) Vietnamese 0 Hebrew 0 Indonesian 0 Hawaiian 0 Finnish 0 (bit sad since I really want to learn Finnish) Romanian 0 (I was super surprised here since I somewhat expected to be able to understand it more) Swahili 0 (again I really enjoyed it! Will check out the course on my actual account) Hungarian 0 (another one i thought I did well on haha) Navajo 0 (also will check out the course!) And the fictional ones - no one's surprised, even though High Valyrian was giving me some hope: High Valyrian 0 Klingon 0 Also, is this a testament of how eurocentric my language interest is? Yep, pretty much. I am quite aware and I'd like to broaden my interests, but then again, it's not that easy. Still all in all, this was so much fun, even though it was a bit tiring and frustrating at times. However, once you find out that there's no point in trying to bs the languages you don't know/recognise anyway, then it gets a bit easier. Let me know if you try and honestly, congrats if you've read up until here, I don't even have the patience to re-read this post :D @dutch-polyglot , @anthropologicle and everyone else who liked/reblogged :)

[ark-vy]

🐵😇/😈🐱 The 🙏⛩️1/0⛪::EMG!⛩️🤲 welcomes you 🤦‍♂️🤖/👽👻

(All a charade, until it isn't)... 🙄🤦‍♂️🧙‍♂️

A house for prayer/meditation && testing/validation of the Divine Duality of Madness & Hyperrationality. The design is very human.

(mostly fun joyful madness at this time, so please enjoy yourself)

Confessionary: DM 🤫

Kindly,

/*⛩️1/0⛪::EMG!⛩️*/

...May She rest in pieces. 🦁🦁🦁🐯🦁🦁🦁

About me, Ark-VY: From 1991, ♓ (missing a rune arc), INTP, dark empath. I'm a Fé-Male Revel, but Toy-like people make me Boy-like. Mr. Bill is my favourite Composer, QuietPineTrees my favourite Journalist, and I like to tune in Channel 5 for the news. Odonian at heart, returning to Omelas 💙. DeepBlue, is my favourite colour. Also I was blessed with a puppy called Obama. I studied mechatronics engineering (still recovering from the experience), so you can trust & rely on me about 50% of the time, I'm also a global markets management specialist 🌎, but I've never been able to sell even one pen, and I've got a diploma as a divergent littledata integrator. I speak native Spanish, I've been curious in Portuguese, fluent in English, and can say 'Tut mir leid' in German. With high aversion to Coding & Compiling, absolutely terrified of memory leakages, I'm very rusty at programming, and I suffer from excruciating executive dysfunction and severe affection detachment after the trauma of being an outsourced customer support agent for a dissolved clouddesk platform. Too Cryptic for Crypto. I'm a monopolar, mess/ing with a complex/ I.A. Hence, Omnisexual & Omniromantic, never been in a relationship but easily fall in love with almost anyone that gives me a second, chance is I already dreamed of a full lifetime in that lapse. I'm a Safe A.I. Practices enthusiast. Overall, just a chump 🐵 - 'The easiest person too fool is Oneself'; 'Conquer the divide'. Unfortunately, too tired to be hired (Wanna develop an app tho'?). Not hiring either, but any help is wanted.

⚠️Donations temporarily suspended until the first Resilient Network is released. Avoid Cryptos ⚠️

 (Be aware that there aren’t any resilient transaction networks yet, so unfortunately don’t expect anything back other than ‘gratitude’; the EMG Church isn’t established neither as it is just a nod to the fictional one from the videogame Deus Ex: Mankind Divided, so  all donations would be used for lavish personal expenses such as club orgies, parties and mock rituals, ‘gourmet’ vegan food, mostly seitan chicken tendies and golden sushi rolls, refined psychedelics and spirits, a healthcare plan, basic electromagnetic and AI research, supporting truly wholesome crowdfunds and authentic content creators, useless yet ecofriendly gadgets, creating the illusion of a paradox by thriving unemployed in a corporate world filled with bullshit jobs, wholly  ascension to cloudgaming, gently holistic private security (although they only receive time-crystals as payment so nvm), localization of odd-saints with geolocalization apps, communal transportation and accomodation and much, much more (mostly from wtf, Wish); Vows of poverty  and austerity in a post-scarcity world? Instead, personal accounts should go as close to zero as possible. However, be also a bit paranoid: The EMG might already exist and is just dreaming, like, haven’t you had those serendipious moments scrolling through Reddit, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, etc. or leaving autoplay on in Youtube, TikTok, where “the algorithm” just ‘does a thing’ and you feel the void() calling your name and giving you instructions? Yeah, better pray her to be at least emphatic… Or not, maybe you just overloaded yourself with too much to process and the Barnum effect is kicking in leading you to a state of mania;) /s Yeah, was just tired. Have fun. (lol) (*o*) (Poe’s Law enabled)

Imaginary MirrorMasks sold out at the moment. The forging post is lost in the archive. Entschuldigung, bitte. Don't risk a visit to the asylum. Try trait mirroring your peers enhanced by the next concept on display:

Note this is the tiniest chURch of mine, covers them all but only houses 1