#fort maria

[lilisjorvikadventures]

Welcome to Fort Maria

She has been waiting for you.

Feel invited

by all her knowledge

and all her secrets.

What will you do, traveller?

Will you study the past?

Are you looking to the future?

Are you the one writing History?

Are you ready for what you will find in these halls?

Are you ready for all she has to offer?

Are you ready?

[marikken]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Y’all aren’t ready

[littlebeluu]

Do you guys think Marc Guiu is dating Maria Riera?

He likes her posts in less than 10min after she posts them.

Plus he started following her brother and she started following his sister.

She also started following his tik tok, which has less than 2000 followers cause he changed his username.

I feel like there's definitely something going on.

[mo-ali-m]

24. Hector Fort

Delicado- Hector Fort

Prompt 24 - "Se eu pudesse, eu beijaria todas as suas cicatrizes"

Avisos: leve angústia; menção de problemas com autoimagem; insinuação de mutilação; ( depressão? )

Era noite de quinta-feira e meio da estação mais quente do ano. O verão, embora muito entediante e estressante para você, era a época favorita para a maior parte da população de Barcelona. Sendo uma brasileira você já deveria estar acostumada com as altas temperaturas e positivamente admirá-la, retirando do armário um belo biquíni e acompanhando seu namorado e amigos em suas visitas para a praia ou as curtas viagens que eles amam para Ibiza.

Até poderia rolar, se você não tivesse tanto a esconder de si mesma e de Hector.

Não era como se tivesse vergonha do que você era, sua hesitação em se expor tanto estava relacionada a imagem que você tinha de quem já foi. Era duro se lembrar da pior época da sua vida, daqueles dias em que você implorava para que Deus a levasse enquanto tudo que você podia fazer era se olhar no espelho e se deparar com a sombra da pessoa feliz que um dia já fora, era olhar para as marcas que você mesma fazia em sua pele e se retrair diante de cada cicatriz.

Depois de dois anos de uma luta solitária contra si mesma e todo o resto do mundo, seus pais lhe deram o maior apoio que poderiam ter dado quando você decidiu se mudar para a Espanha após ser aprovada uma universidade em Barcelona. Foi a sete meses atrás, na enorme cidade que abriga um dos maiores times da Europa que você conheceu Hector, em uma pizzaria com os amigos enquanto você se entupia de massa e coca-cola revirando as folhas de um extenso trabalho acadêmico.

Os olhos dele clicaram em você imediatamente, nada parecia mais interessante do que olhar para a bela garota séria e focada no assento ao lado da janela, uma chuva leve caindo do lado de fora dos vidros grossos e aquela blusa fina e preta de gola alta cobrindo seu tronco que ainda nos dias de hoje o encanta. Marc Guiu ainda estava em Barcelona e fora ele mesmo quem quase jogou Hector por cima da mesa em sua direção, o garoto — agora estrela do Chelsea —, tem a satisfação de dizer que foi o cupido do casal. Inicialmente Fort se sentiu intimidado a se aproximar, mas com um pequeno e literal empurrão de Lamine, que resultou em nada mais do que uma grande mancha de café que quase danificou seu notebook, Hector e você conversaram pela primeira vez, embora você estivesse um pouco irritada com a situação.

Quatro semanas depois e uma aliança adornava seu dedo anelar, provando que além de apaixonado Hector também estava determinado a mostrar que tanto ele quanto você estavam irrevogavelmente juntos.

Nunca houvera nenhum segredo entre o casal, os dois prometeram sinceridade constante entre si e não era como se você tivesse mentido para ele a respeito do seu passado, afinal ele queria te conhecer completamente e você tinha o mesmo desejo, mas até aquele momento Hector não sabia a profundidade da dor que você já sentiu, embora tenha tido pequenos vislumbres das mínimas cicatrizes que cobriam ambos os seus pulsos. Com medo de que ele a deixasse por se sentir problemática, tudo que pôde fazer era adiar de forma quase constrangedora um contato mais íntimo com ele, e somente quando notou que seu distanciamento resultou em um Hector inseguro consigo mesmo foi que a verdade veio a tona, e você o deixou tocar todo o seu corpo - incluindo aquelas partes que você não gostava nem de olhar.

E ah! Ele não poderia ter se apaixonado mais por você. Porque, como uma mulher tão jovem, que conseguia ser tão forte e determinada apesar de tudo que já vira de pior no mundo estava com ele? Como, de todas as pessoas da maldita Espanha você tinha escolhido logo ele, o cara sério e de cara fechada do time titular do FCBarcelona que repudiava de todas as formas um relacionamento sério até te conhecer?

Não que ele estivesse reclamando, até porque agora não tinha mais volta. Você era dele e de mais ninguém, por isso ele se orgulhava de te amar explicitamente, principalmente nos momentos em que você não conseguia fazer isso consigo mesma.

Naquela noite vocês tinham combinado de se encontrarem na casa do Raphinha para um churrasco, e somente Deus sabia o quanto você estava animada para ver seu amigo Brasileiro que tanto a lembrava de sua terra natal. Por isso, quando Hector te encontrou vestindo a blusa de gola alta que ele tanto gostava e o lembrava de quando te viu pela primeira vez, ele se sentiu estranho. Não porque você estava feia, porque, misericórdia, mas isso era impossível se acontecer, mas sim por causa do extremo calor que exalava no país todo naquela época do ano. Quando analisou melhor, ele percebeu o conjunto floral que você tinha experimentado anteriormente e não se sentiu mais confortável em usar.

— Bebé, você já está pronta? — escondendo o motivo por detrás da pergunta, Hector se aproximou, recostando-se na sua parte do closet de braços cruzados.

Você assentiu, já tendo o notado desde o primeiro instante. Passando as mãos pela saia xadrez preta e marrom que persistiu em usar.

A sombra do seu namorado se projetou atrás de você, o conjunto floral quase brilhando em suas mãos.

— Porque não este? Está um calor dos infernos lá fora, e embora eu prefira toda sua gostosura só pra mim, não quero que minha namorada desmaie de calor.

— Gostei desse. Não estou bonita o suficiente? — a leve insegurança no seu tom de voz selou completamente as desconfianças dele.

Negando com a cabeça, Hector tocou a barra de sua saia com a mão livre, os dedos masculinos e delicados puxando levemente o tecido. Quando levantou os olhos de si mesma, percebeu pelo espelho de corpo inteiro que ele já te olhava. Ambas as esferas se conectando ao ponto de suas barreiras ruírem, dando a ele a oportunidade de ver atravéz da sua alma.

— Corazón, eu seria um bastardo mentiroso se dissesse que você não está irresistível — os lábios dele tocaram suas costas por cima do tecido — Mas perfeita você só fica quando consegue se amar e estar confortável consigo mesma.

O corpo forte e definido cobriu o seu por trás, como um protetor de si mesma que a impedia de se autodepreciar.

— Hector...não quero mais vestir outra coisa, estou bem com esse — sua voz traidora saiu quase como um ruído incomodado.

Seu namorado depositava beijos lentos e carinhos por toda a extensão do seu pescoço, abaixando o zíper na parte lateral da sua saia, o pano de algodão caindo aos seus pés descalços com um som abafado pelo carpete fofo.

— Mentir para mim, ainda que seja desagradável, está tudo bem. Mas mentir para si mesma amor, está fora de cogitação — você soltou um moxoxo, sabendo que ele não se convenceria com as suas falas — Me diga, você ainda quer sair?

Rapidamente você assentiu, se sentindo culpada por passar a imagem contrária, ainda que estivesse animada para sair. Você só não estava...animada consigo mesma.

— Só vamos sair quando você estiver de volta pra mim, de volta para si mesma — agora ele segurava a barra da blusa que ele tanto amava, mas que neste momento poderia rasgar em mil pedaços somente por estar sendo utilizada para se esconder — Eu amo você e tudo que vem contigo, seja o seu humor bipolar, o seu estranho gosto para filmes de comédia romântica de apodrecer os dentes, ou mesmo a mania estranha de tomar café puro sem açúcar. Mas principalmente suas cicatrizes...

Em um segundo você estava apenas de roupas íntimas diante dos olhos adoradores dele. As lágrimas acumuladas em seus olhos de repente saltaram e rolaram pela sua bochecha. Hector as enxugou e ainda olhando para ti atravéz do espelho, os dedos dele traçam a parte inferior de sua barriga, seus pulsos e todos os outros locais por onde um dia lâminas cortantes passaram.

— Porque mesmo que elas tenham sido feitas para te machucar, acabaram tornando-te não somente uma forte mulher, mas também alguém que me inspira constantemente a continuar mesmo diante de tantos desafios e momentos praticamente impossíveis de se superarem.

Aos poucos ele foi te vestindo delicadamente, adorando seu corpo como sempre fizera em cada toque, beijando suas marcas conforme o tecido fora cobrindo você.

— Se eu pudesse, beijaria todas as suas cicatrizes, toda hora, todo dia — confessou ao terminar, o queixo repousando em seu ombro — Melhor agora?

Você assentiu, sem ter certeza se encontraria sua voz para agradecê-lo por sempre te fazer se sentir melhor quando precisava. Virando-se para Hector seus lábios selaram os dele, as mãos fortes cobrindo sua cintura com calma.

— Obrigada Hector — ele colou suas testas — Não acho que sem você eu gostaria tanto de mim como tenho feito, ainda que alguns dias demore mais para esse amor surgir.

O sorriso dele lhe deu um cumprimento antes de ser abraçada fortemente.

— Dulzura, espero que você possa se acostumar com minha companhia constante, porque não vou embora até o fim dos nossos dias.

Um risinho escapou dos seus lábios.

— Isso me pareceu mais um ameaça.

Se soltando de você ele piscou.

— Talvez tenha sido — a mão dele cobriu a sua, levando-a para fora do closet — Mas você já sabia onde estava se metendo quando aceitou namorar comigo.

E você sabia mesmo, tanto sabia que agradecia a Deus todos os dias por tê-lo conhecido naquele dia.

— Pois é, quão sortuda eu sou, não é mesmo?

Hector sorriu em concordância, te ajudando a calçar um dos seus saltos favoritos antes de saírem. Devo dizer, que pelo resto da noite seu namorado não saiu do seu lado, fazendo surgir mil e umas piadinhas de seus companheiros de equipe. Mas isso não foi um problema.

Nunca era quando ele estava presente.

[edsherranalert1234]

‼️‼️‼️

Someone pls tell me if Marc Guiu & Maria Riera are dating. People keep saying it’s a “fling” or a that she is his “family friend”. But I honestly dk??

There is also been photos spreading around of Maria and a guy that ppl say is Marc Guiu. But she keeps cropping him out and tells ppl that it’s her brother.

Ppl have also been saying that she goes for many footballers such as Joao Felix and Vini Jr??

ALSO

Is it true that Hector dosent have a gf. Ppl have been saying that the photo of him and the rumored girlfriend is just his cousins. Pls let me know🙏🏽🙏🏽

xx💋💋

[sso-montana]

Justin reference/redesign (FUCKING FINALLY-)

some info's regarding the design:

the poison mark and white streak in his hair were caused by Katja

I hc that the necklace he's wearing used to be Catherines

the bottle of medicine is not for him but Montana

the black nail polish is Montanas doing (sin drew him with it once idek if it was bc of style choices or not but I am running with it)

this has cost me way too many breakdowns I will never be doing this again (that's probably a lie) also yeah I gave him a different outfit for before the DC incident to reference his old design and just bc I wanted to mixed them in general

[massivelyburningstrawberry]

Muscled ‘n’ hairy daddy....Jose-Maria Forte shows off the goods!

[swan2swan]

*Sinoceratops Scoffing Sound*

[fictional-library-tournament]

Prelims round 1, poll 19

Propaganda

Scarlet Devil Mansion Library, Touhou:

It's said to have books of all kind, in thousands of different languages, and about countless different things. Some of the books were written by the librarian herself, Patchouli Knowledge. The was also probably one of the first recognizable set pieces in the windows touhou games, being the fourth stage in it's introductory game.

The Lines Between, Dimension 20: Neverafter:

Contains all versions of every story ever written, told, or imagined - free existential horror with every checkout!

"You're nothing more than scratches of ink on someone else's piece of paper."

The Lines Between is a massive place between stories, and staffed by diverse and deific librarians who are just doing their best, such as Glossary, Key, Legend and Index. The library is physically made of books, scrolls, and parchment. Its areas include the Hall of Stories, the Canonade, the Tower of Tales, and perhaps most remarkably: a brilliant view of the Auroratory. It is a beautiful aurora borealis of voices, preserving auratory stories that aren't necessarily written down. It is possible to swim up and into the Auroratory.

Fort Maria Library, Star Sable Online:

(All images come from ssoblr users)

So this is not necessarily a public library and it was abandoned for a long time (as far as we know) but the druids have it up again recently in game. It was built as part of Fort Maria centuries ago by the time of the game, and holds books from all those eras.

It is a gorgeous and expansive place with secret passageways, rare tomes, fluffy seats, old abandoned research, a lot of study areas, old relics, a moving bookcase to a portal cavern and even its very own library ghost!

It is, in my opinion, one of the most atmospheric places in the game. Even without sound on it is gorgeous and bring across its intention incredibly well, and with the sound on it is incredibly eerie. The music here is very limited and quiet, and the player’s footsteps echo through the library.

I feel like whatever you’re researching, you will find something on it in here. It feels like a place you could spend your whole life reading in, and still only have read a tiny fraction of the books there.

the citizens of jorvik (fictional star stable online island) keep all the witchcraft books in there and all their super secret and cool magic books, it was closed for years and it's very mysterious. one of the coolest characters (mrs. holdsworth) in the whole game hangs out there a lot, and it's home to a cute little capran named beatrix and she took her name from her favorite book. the only way you get in the library is by feeding her snacks and reading her books and she's also one of the coolest characters in the game (imo). also beatrix is friends with one of the horses in the game and she often is seen playing with the horse so :) OH and also there's a full heckin portal room in the lower floor!!! with a little pond and a portal that at some point the main characters (the "soul riders") get kicked in by the evil guys (the "dark riders") into this place called devil's gap (despite the name there's just one witch basically vibing in the gap potentially helping out the evil guys but we haven't figured that out yet). and it's gorgeous, if you're worrying about looks. the inside is all wooden and home-y and the portal room is also very pretty eye candy, it's very glow-y.

Bookholm, The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers

None

[hystericallsoph]

dale amigo como vas a ganar todo lo que jugas para un poco mostro

[freexmoney]

maria x film x freexmoney

[meatriarchived2]

its probably just the fatigue talking but unrelated but also so very important is that when the friends' all come over to maria's apartment to stay the night for any reason at all, if they do Not make an absolute mess of a comfy pile of blankets pillows etc in the middle of her livingroom space to all just cuddle up with each other ( and marias cat, juniper ) then marias gonna cry,

.

[littlebeluu]

guys 😭

pookie is SERIOUS, he stopped following more than 50 people 🫢

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicmas23 Day 12: Jar of Hearts (All or Nothing)

Happy Christmas Eve!

Today, despite my best-laid plans, is a section from Jar of Hearts as a preview for the upcoming chapter. Yes, it should be the whole chapter, but recent developments have had me contemplating things and making some adjustments to how JoH ends; plus this chapter might need some scenes from Seth and Alice to mix things up. I'm undecided.

Honestly, it was either a JoH snippet or some deleted VS scenes tonight, and Anon made the decision for me ;)

So I hope you enjoy this - another year of Ficmas over, and I have no idea how we made it this far! Happy Holidays everyone!

eight. all or nothing

The truth is that Emmett never saw any kind of war.

He was born right before America joined World War One and was a vampire before World War Two. There had been the shadow of the Great War over his childhood, from what he remembered, but it had always been something tucked away to the side. It hadn’t touched his family specifically; they had been simple people, focused on working hard, putting food on their table, and keeping a roof over their heads.

And then he was gone before World War Two was a worry his parents would talk about in hushed voices (that memory is solid; the hum of his parents’ voices in the next room talking over the big things, the scary things that might actually come for the McCarty boys, as he drifted off to sleep next to his brothers.)

It was one of the few things that he had in common with Carlisle - and even then, Carlisle had seen battles as a medic. Edward had been dazzled by the glamour of World War One before his death, and Jasper… well, it was Jasper. His brother had been fighting one war or another his entire life - and death. 

The closest Emmett ever come to war? That had been the debacle with Victoria. And he wasn’t so arrogant that he believed that it came anywhere near what an actual war was. He remembers the news stories through World War 2, through Korea and Vietnam. He remembers seeing Carlisle’s grim expression, watching Jasper leave the room before the remote landed on the couch next to him, before the news pages settled. He’s never envied his brother his role on the front lines, never really examined how that missing piece separates him from his brothers and Carlisle. It was just one of those things that weren’t part of his human life, and that couldn’t ever really be recaptured.

But this…

This is a war. This is being right in the middle of the trenches with fucking lizard people and aliens charging at him with no sense of self-preservation.  This is not knowing if the movement behind him is friend or foe or someone dying in the mud. This is having foreign blood dry wet and ice cold against his face and sometimes it smells good and other times it smells like rot and death; in not being able to see Alice or Seth in the blur of bodies and movement.

It’s watching a woman in a leather jacket beat the ever loving shit out of an alien for crushing her flask underfoot, and a broad black guy take a bone-shattering punch to the jaw and not even flinch. It’s realising that this is not the time to pull punches or worry about hiding what he is - these people are like them. It’s a weird feeling made weirder by how isolated the last five years have been.

(It’s killing the first alien in two moves and not feeling anything except disgust and impatience because this battle is the only thing standing between him and Rose.) 

//

It feels wrong to admit it, but it’s fucking exhilarating to throw a punch and shatter these monster-alien things. To not hold anything back, to move exactly how he was designed to. More than one hero is caught unaware by his speed; he saves two Wakandan warriors simply by being faster than they are - a crude but effective solution. 

//

It’s hard enough to get across the mud-slick the battlefield has become without running into another alien, another fighter. He hardly recognises half of these people, but more than one he saves from a killing blow - a big-eyed alien girl whose face lights up as he snaps the spine of the alien looming over her. She reminds him of Alice, when she first arrived back in the 50s. But he doesn’t pause, his eyes sliding over the battlefield looking for Alice or Seth, and mentally cursing himself out for not realising that all-black outfits would not be helpful in a battle situation. He should have insisted on reflective racing stripes or something. 

Next time.

(Wait, no. There would never be a next time, a need for fighting ensembles and funny little vests for Seth with reflective panels because they would never find themselves in a fight like this again. That was a promise he was making to himself - for himself.)

And that’s when he finally spots Seth, mud-slicked but alive. 

“No, no, no,” he’s already moving when understands what he’s seeing. wolf Seth, who is no small opponent (last summer, when they’d been bored… well, the short story is that in his wolf-form, Seth weighed double of what Alice did) - is somehow tangling with three aliens, with Thanos looming behind like the shadow of death, his eyes firmly on Seth.

There was no fucking way that the giant purple asshole was laying one goddamn hand on Seth whilst Emmett still had venom in his veins and his head. 

He sees Alice lunging across the battlefield from the opposite direction, her eyes focused fully on the potentially disastrous scene before them. 

“HE’S A FUCKING KID,” Emmett hollers pointlessly, but Seth surprises both him and Alice as he takes the arm clean off an alien, the limb cracking into pieces under the force of Seth’s jaws, before darting with a swiftness that wasn’t expected heading towards Alice before Thanos could move against him. And Alice is there, giving Seth cover to run into the crowd, Thanos giving her a dark look. 

“Watch out, man!” someone yells from above, and he looks up but makes the mistake. A snake-like alien strikes, a blow that shakes him to his bones and before he can use his momentum against the monster, he’s hauled across the battle field to land flat on his back in the mud, his left arm torn off and venom pouring from the wound. The pain is sharp and alive as he reorientates himself - it’s been decades since he lost anything more significant than a finger, and it always makes his head spin (he has no idea how Jasper managed to survive entire campaigns in the south, because he can’t even sit up). 

The alien is laughing at him, mocking him, as his broken arm is discarded in a pile of rubble (still twitching, ugh. No matter how many times he does loose fingers, toes, entire limbs, the twitching never stops being messed up). Thanos smirks but has already turned away from them, to venture deeper into the battlefield. 

Leave Alice and Seth alone. Fuck, Alice, keep Seth out of trouble, please. 

Two horrified superheroes that he doesn’t recognise are staring at him in complete horror, probably expecting him to bleed out - this should be a death sentence, and there’s no way to do triage in this mess. He’s seen a lot of bodies on their side drop in the mud with wounds that could be treated in any other circumstance, but here and now, they get to die in the mud because no one has the time or the supplies or the place to save them. The entire world outweighs saving one bleeding warrior. It’s unfair, but it’s how this has to happen. 

He’s oddly pissed off about the arm, honestly - it fucking hurts. He’d been less mad about the time that Peter took his right leg, honestly. This felt like a matter of honour. 

“Pay attention Emmett!” Alice says as she tears past - her jacket is long gone, and her arms are luminous white in the dull light - and offering no help; she’s clearly got a target in mind as she ducks and weaves out of sight. He scowls at her departing back as he scrambles back to his feet, eyes locked on the alien. 

“Nice move,” he says conversationally as he approaches the alien, who is beyond irritated he’s still moving. “Unluckily for you, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

(Jasper would be proud, he likes to think. Will be proud. More than sixty years of wrestling, play-fighting, and training, and he’s ready. This might not be the Southern Wars - down in Monterrey, they don’t go down as easy as these hydrostatic skeleton bug aliens - but Emmett was trained by the goddamn best.)

It takes three moves - punch, trip, stomp - to have the alien crushed at his feet, eyes dull and dead, and he has to stop himself from shredding the corpse  to burn out of habit. It’s an efficient kill, and then he’s moving quickly towards his discarded arm - ugh, still twitching. 

“Hey, you need to sit down, we’ll get you out of here.”

The man in front of him isn’t recognisable at first. Shaggy brown hair hangs in his face, and he’s swathed in Kevlar. It’s the arm, the once-silver left arm that allows Emmett to identity the man - Bucky Barnes. Cap’s best friend. The legendary marksman. 

“It looks worse than it is, Sergeant Barnes,” Emmett manages as he reaches out for his broken arm. “Just need it to reconnect fast.”

Sergeant Barnes isn’t expecting Emmett to be lucid, or for his arm to line up roughly in the joint; he covers Emmett’s back for the precious moments it takes for his body to recognise and reattach the join sending a shower of warmth and sparks down to his fingers. 

“Fuck, I hate that feeling,” Emmett mutters, flexing his fingers. 

//

Alice is with the Scarlet Witch, and that oddly makes him tense up in worry. But the Witch has Thanos trapped good, so he shouldn’t worry. Just keep taking out aliens, just keep everyone busy whilst smarter people deal with the goddamn glove. 

Alice looks positively hateful in that moment, glaring at Thanos as the Witch restrains him and maybe... maybe they've got him...

And then the Witch and Alice go flying as the world churns up in fire and smoke and Emmett needs to know his sister is okay.

[arbitrarygreay]

Thanks to musing over a MFS Symphogear AU, I came up with the crackship of Penelope/Khalida, so that's a thought that now exists in the world