#man could you imagine. coming from the end of the world. some terrible war or plague or SOMETHING

[beauzos]

the more i think about it, the more i realize that it’s completely understandable why Jonel in particular tapped into the idea of forest gods on Nowhere. obviously, that’s a role they set for him, but it had to be based on something. but there’s talking bones, ghosts, the Word on the Wind, the Magifolk, the rumor of a dragon underneath the islands... no fucking wonder they set that role up. i’m sure the White Ship people had never seen even a fraction of anything like what Nowhere had to offer. it must have left quite the impression upon them.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 18:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Angsty feelings, fluff. Hurt/comfort.

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Hunter watched through his visor, HUD illuminated with your steadying vitals. He watched as your chest rose and fell, spasming every so often, heart rate spiking as your face twitched in pain. It nearly broke him.

It was so easy to imagine a future with you - somewhere safe, away from the Empire, away from mercenaries and shady jobs that paid little to nothing. Away from the possibility of a mission that you might not make it back from.

Not just for me, he realized. You’d make a great mother to Omega and his brothers were proud to stand at your side. We all deserve some rest.

Hunter chuckled to himself. When did I get so soft?

He wondered when it had grown so difficult to erect the walls that separated the man within from the soldier trained to perfection. They were built with such a profound sense of professional discipline that it had felt uncomfortable - even painful - when the war came to its inevitable end. All those thoughts and emotions had come crashing together as if the floodgates had opened and it had taken all he had to hold his world together. None of them knew what to do or how to feel, so they threw all they had into surviving a world that was no longer meant for them.

His head told him one thing - keep moving lest the weight of all that is at stake find you asleep and strike - but Hunter was tired of simply surviving. Omega had changed him. You had changed him. It was hard to see the galaxy through a soldier’s perspective now that he had something to lose.

Your fingers wrapped around his hand as it lay beside you, drawing him from his thoughts.

“Hey,” his modulated voice sounded relieved as you blinked groggily awake. He brushed a stray hair from your face.

“Hey,” you replied softly, licking dried lips.

“Here,” he said, gently sitting on the ground behind you. “This’ll help you breathe a little easier.”

Putting two strong hands under your arms, he slowly slid you upwards into a reclining position, careful not to jostle you too much as he rested your back against his chest to relieve the squeezing pressure of gravity.

The strained and tightened muscles took several seconds to quiet their panic at the motion, but soon you felt yourself relax into his chest.

“There you go, nice and easy.” He pulled a hydro pack from his belt and guided your hands as they lifted it to your mouth.

The liquid flowed cool and refreshing across parched lips. It could’ve been poison and you wouldn’t have cared, it was the best water you’d had in what felt like an eternity.

He pulled it away as you grabbed at it with a whine.

“Not too fast,” he chuckled, “You’ll make yourself sick.”

You made a face and he shook his head. If you could see his eyes, you knew they’d be amused.

“How’s the pain?” he asked more seriously.

You stared up at the sky above, “Could be worse, I guess.” It was the truth, but you felt guilty for leaving out how much your ribs throbbed still with every breath or how your leg ached terribly and you couldn’t look at it without wanting to throw up. It was better though, no longer so sharp and overwhelming. The painkillers had done their job though they seemed to be wearing off. You bit your lip, inhaling as best as you could. You could feel him watching.

“You sure? I can give you a little more painkiller, it’s been awhile.”

You let out a breath, “Okay.”

He reached to the side, pulling another syringe from the pocket of the larger medkit before pulling aside the loose fabric and jabbing it into the thigh of your good leg.

Though it was barely a pinch, the muscle tightened and cramped as though it were spring loaded and ready for a fight. It held that way a few long seconds before relaxing once more.

He smells good. Even fully kitted and covered in dust, that familiar scent of an earthy plasma wafted over you, surrounding you with the calm and caring comfort you craved so desperately.

Inhaling evenly with eyes closed, you found your head resting backwards, nestling in the gap between his helmet and chestplate. He rubbed your leg, hand firm and warm beneath his glove.

“Good girl. Relax, you’re okay.”

Good girl. The shame from before rose headily once again - hot and cold all at once.

“Hunter?” you began.

He grunted in response.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I acted and for running away. I just want you to know I didn’t mean all those things I said.”

He breathed in, letting it out slowly. “No, I'm sorry.” He paused, moving his hand to brush the hair from your face. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have done a lot of things.”

“We both yelled.” You said softly, reaching to the side where his other hand rested on your thigh.

He squeezed your fingers. “Yeah,” he chuckled gently. He grew still as you drew his hand into yours, weaving your fingers between his own.

“I don't hate you, Hunter.”

He shook his head. “I know you don't.” He was silent again. “All those things you heard that day… they weren't true.”

The claw around your chest grew tighter. “W-what…?” It was all you could choke out over a sudden spasming of lungs sending hot bolts of pain searing through your chest, before calming again to a distant agony. He squeezed your hand, seeming to understand the unasked question.

“Tech called you an asset. A member of our team. The same way he'd describe Omega - his sister. But I….” He paused, looking down, helmet still on but easy to read. Uncertain. Afraid. He took a breath. “But I… I said you were more than that to me. I… I think I'm in love with you.”

I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you.

…In love with you.

His words played over and over again in your head, tolling like a bell. It didn’t feel like anything at all. Emotional shock, much like its physical counterpart, protected the senses, lulling you into a false sense of denial before hitting you full force and all at once. It almost seemed to good to be true.

Hunter watched your careful silence, a shameful panic beginning to take hold, as you gave no response.

“Don’t…” your voice was quiet, but Hunter knew it well enough to know the flood it held back. “Don’t say that. Don’t say what you don’t mean, Hunter. Please don’t just tell me what I want to hear. It isn’t fair.”

You were tired of crying, tired of that raw burning skin around your eyes, tired of the emotions that built you up only to drag you back down again and again.

“But… I do mean it.” He replied, “I mean every part of it. I love you, cyar’ika. I… I thought I lost you when you left and it was like I couldn’t breathe.”

You sniffed, ignoring how the shuddering breaths sent a growing ache through your chest. “But…. I saw….”

Hunter took a breath. “You saw the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“But…”

He cut you off, “Tara came to me hoping to find a release - some kind of comfort. I couldn’t give that to her and I told her so. I don’t love her. I love you and will only ever love you!”

A whirlwind of emotion combined with already slowing thoughts left you confused, unsure, and at the mercy of that ever present doubting voice.

He can’t love you. You’ve screwed up so many times. You are unworthy.

“You… I can’t…” you began to protest.

“No.” Hunter spoke firmly as if to command that inner voice to submission. “Why do you think you don’t deserve this?”

He shot a second flare into the sky. A flash of light illuminated the darkened, cloudy sky, signaling that the Marauder had acknowledged and would make its way to extract. Hunter turned his head back to you.

“Everyone on that ship up there wants you to stay. You are a part of our team, our family.” He paused, “You are a part of me and I don’t think I can live without you.”

The tears came hot and quick now, dripping down his shoulder plate where they fell from your eyes.

“Hunter, I….”

The ground began to quake and rumble once more. Rocks shook with a violence and roared as if the splitting ground caused them great pain. And for the second time that day, you found yourself falling.

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[gabessquishytum]

Modern arranged marriage AU. (CW death threats)

Dream is a prince. Not the heir, but he's the prince of THE royal family, and with so many scandals tied to his name, he's got an ultimatum. Either he marries and settles down in privacy somewhere far, far away, or they send him far, far away on a "mission" to "help", and if he happens to die out there, well, the family can be publicly very sad about it.

Hob has joined the army as soon as he possibly could, while he was practically still a boy, due to being an orphan and wanting somewhere to fit in. He's been whisked from one modern war to another for years. He retired from the army at one point when his wife, also from the army, was expecting their second, but we all know what happened to Hob's family. Alone once more, he shamefully returned to the army.

When Hob finally earns a high enough rank and enough medals and rewards to retire for good (it's not like he ever LIKED the army), he earns himself one last medal, given to him by queen Night herself. Night sees a great opportunity in this still quite young (going on his 40's) retiring soldier. She asks him to marry her son and offers a large sum of money and a mansion as a competition. While Hob thinks it's fucked up, he's still a protector and hero at heart and accepts the offer just so the prince doesn't have to marry someone not as kind as him.

You know what? I'm making this omegaverse because I want to. Turns out they are true mates. They find out at the wedding ceremony - Dream goes crazy for Hob's scent (he's been a soldier for so long that he smells like gunpowder, sand, and protection) and Hob almost pops a boner at his own wedding ceremony when he smells Dream (old books, dust, softness). Dream has one last scandal when they pounce on each other in the car right after the ceremony and don't arrive to the reception, but then they are allowed to live in privacy happily ever after.

- 🚒

I do love a true mates story, and this is really absolutely adorable - I love the idea of older, slightly grizzled and world weary alpha!Hob stepping up to protect the younger omega prince.

When Dream was informed that he'd basically been sold off to some old war hero, he despaired - he was imagining some horrid old creep like Lord Burgess. So he's pleasantly surprised at the sight of Hob, who stands nervously in his old ceremonial uniform. He's got lovely brown sun-drenched skin, greying hair, and kindly eyes. Dream’s heart softens even before he catches Hob’s scent - that's when he goes a bit weak at the knees. Dream has had many lovers of all kinds (that's why he's being married off) but he's never felt such an urge building within his body. He might actually be in love, and he hasn't even made eye contact with the man yet.

During the ceremony they touch hands, and Dream has sneakily removed his gloves so that he gets to touch Hob skin-to-skin. He almost moans. Hob’s hands are big and warm and rough, and Dream actually has to hang on tight just in case his legs do actually give out. Hob winks at him cheekily, and squeezes his hand when they walk together back down the aisle.

They do pounce on each other in the car, but not before Dream feels the need to hurriedly come clean about all his shortcomings - how he's not a virgin, he's not sure if he wants children, he's prone to terrible mood swings - of course Hob just smiles and kisses him very softly. He wouldn't mind if Dream was the devil. They're true mates, and Hob is hardly perfect either. He just wants a chance to be happy.

The sex in the car is very good, as demonstrated by the way the vehicle rocks alarmingly back and forth while all the windows steam up. The video clips circulate for days, and honestly? The public are pretty damn thrilled to see Prince Dream and his dilf husband getting their fairytale ending <333

[g0ry0re0]

"One Love, One House", Josh Futturman (Future Man, 2017, TV Show) - Imagine

Description: AU where Josh never beats Biotic Wars. Instead, he lives with you (his partner) in a cozy little apartment in L.A. / Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

General Notes: Established Relationship, Gender Neutral Reader, Pure Fluff/Comfort, Second Person POV, Lots Of Physical Touch (some a bit sensual/intimate?), Not A Lot Of Dialogue, Reader Has Some Internal Dialogue (“italics”)

Author's Note: Posting my first official imagine on tumblr, yippee! Also, my titles will almost always be inspired by songs ("Sweater Weather" by The Neighborhood, song link at the bottom of the post). Enjoy this short blurb!

Word Count: 1,031 Words

California needs the rain, that's what everyone always says, and you agree. You love the rain...

Just not right now. You did not have the best day at work and leaving was all you could think about. On top of that, driving in Los Angeles was already terrible enough. But when it rained? God, you wanted to be home already.

Mental and physical state being in rough condition, you finally hop in your car at the end of the day and start the twenty-minute drive back to your apartment (though, in reality, it was an hour's drive with this weather and L.A. traffic). Your safe haven.

Walking into your apartment felt like the weight of the entire world finally lifted off your shoulders. Your back cracks as you roll your shoulders to slip off your jacket, the warmth of the room enveloping you as you leave your shoes by the door and walk into the adjacent room, the living room (a.k.a. The Game Room, as dubbed by you and Josh the moment you moved in).

You could see Josh's messy hair popping up over the couch, facing away from you with his headset on. He must've gotten out of work early. Not totally unusual, but still welcome nonetheless. You're not sure if he knows you're home as he seems very entranced by his game. Of course, he was playing Bio Wars again, he couldn't get enough of that game. Sure he played others, as well as some with you, but he was addicted to that game in particular.

You walk around the couch, him still not taking his eyes off the screen until you plop down across from him and put your feet up on his lap, immediately relaxing your sore bones by lying along the couch. He jumps a little but finally faces you, just for a brief moment, and flashes you a smile before turning back to his game.

"Hey, hun. How was work?" He asks distractedly, but still smiling, clearly happy that you're home now.

"Not great," you sigh and rest your forearm over your eyes. "Everything hurts. Happy to finally be home, though." You mumble, already feeling your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion.

Josh hums in response, seemingly hyper-focused on his game, but he was listening. He always listened to you.

You both sit together, basking in the contentedness of the moment. The warmth of the apartment was amplified by the warmth you felt from your feet resting on Josh's lap. The aches in your body were slowly melting away the longer you lay on the couch, your breathing starting to slow down. It was quiet, but the sound of rain could be heard faintly from the somewhat open (broken) window in your kitchen, gently watering the half-dead tiny plants sitting on the window sill. You could also vaguely hear Josh's game coming from his headset, the ambiance slowly bringing you a sense of peace.

You remove your arm from its resting spot on your face and cross both over your stomach, wrapping yourself up almost cocoon-like. Your eyes are still closed, and your breathing slows even further, despite your efforts to fight off the sleep you so desperately need. You can feel Josh set down his controller on the side of the couch and you can hear indistinct voices coming from his headset. Must be some kind of cutscene.

Suddenly, you can feel Josh's rough hands squeezing your feet. Your closed eyelids flutter a bit and you sigh out of appreciation. Josh seemed to appear distracted more often than not, but he always paid attention to what you communicated to him, both verbally and subtly. This man adored you, he practically worshiped the ground you walked on. He would do whatever he could to see you smile, and right now, the signals bouncing off your body were telling him that you needed a little more attention than what he was currently providing.

He promptly paused his game and took off his headset, placing it on the coffee table before looking over at you. You weren't asleep yet, but you were dangerously close. He gently smiled at how serene you looked, probably staring for a bit too long before he snapped out of it. He tapped your left knee, prompting you to open your eyes and maintain eye contact with him for longer than two seconds since you got home. He was still smiling gently at you as he brought his legs up on the couch and started crawling between yours. He slowly made his way to you, softly caressing your calves, your thighs, and your hips with his hands along the way before laying his head on your stomach and beginning to settle down.

He rests his hands on the sides of your waist now, tenderly squeezing while making the rest of his body comfortable between your legs and on the couch. Your arms untuck themselves from around your torso as he does this. You rest one of your hands on his head, scratching delicately, pulling a deep, contented sigh from him. He mumbles something unintelligible as he relaxes against you, pushing a quiet, single laugh from you.

"What'd you say, love?" You ask quietly, continuing to gingerly scrape your nails along his scalp.

"Nothin', just happy you're home." He slurred sleepily before pressing a delicate kiss to your clothed stomach.

He then resumed his position with the side of his head resting against the exact middle of your tummy, his hands still lovingly gripping your sides. You hum happily and close your eyes again, your and Josh's movements both slowing to a halt as you fall into a shared slumber. The warmth you felt earlier has only increased, Josh quite literally working as a weighted blanket, both your body heat keeping one another fulfilled. Any aches you felt before were gone, intertwined bodies relaxing against each other appreciatively. Breaths and heartbeats slowed and in sync, the downpour heard outside and the ever so quiet Bio Wars soundtrack playing from Josh's headset, lulling you and Josh into a tranquil sleep.

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: harryshumjjr

[rev-wrath]

Dropping by your inbox to ramble about my OCs (cause, the tag function lets me somewhat keep track of what I've written about them when I rb this from you) bc they're my blorbos that not many people know about.

So, as I've said before, it's a story mainly revolving around a god (Ares), a human (Genesis), and an angel (Samzaya). Basically, Gen moves to live her life as a lighthouse keeper (even though the job is mostly done by machines in modern times. but divine intervention pulled her there) and on her first night, a terrible storm brings Ares and Samzaya into her 'new' home. Somehow, neither of them can leave.

Originally, I imagined Ares to show his face from the very beginning, but looking at lore/myths, I figured it would be better if his face was hidden. By a motorbike helmet or a veil of a kind (to shove in the fact that he's not human). Samzaya's an angel who has watched humanity from afar, but never interacted or was close to them. They're a type of angel called a Watcher and those types of angels were the first to fall in love with humans and produce nephilims. They don't know shit about humans, and Gen + Ares (the most human god, as I like to call him) have to teach them how to act around humans ('don't go in all divine light ablaze, don't talk in that staticky way, etc')

Gen is... She's human. But she's also kind of not? Her mother was a Korean shaman and her father Catholic priest but before he officially became one. But she's also blessed by Diwonuso (which really shouldn't happen, and it's related to the apocalypse)

As said, the first half of the story line I have for the trio is them developing a relationship with each other, and the other half is around the mish mash of pantheons forcing hunters/exorcists/deities from different beliefs banding together to stop the angels and demons from making their own pantheon the sole one in the world.

Oh yeah, the three of them also drop into Tartarus at one point, and this results in trauma for everyone!

Have some snippets (+ some random footnotes and comments) of a WIP I was working on like three months ago.

“Not really.” Her voice sounded off to her own ears. Maybe she was dissociating a little bit. “My family’s religion is Buddhism.” “Thou dost not feel of the essence of Buddha.” She flinched at the trilling, high pitched sound coming from the incomprehensible entity’s general area as well as the sensation of their words being slammed into her mind instead of her ears. “For the love of Hades- put on a form that wouldn’t hurt the mortal’s fragile body-” the man said a word that she didn’t quite understand. But she could tell that it was an insult from the way the man’s lips curled and the way he all but spat out the last word. The incomprehensible entity seemed to turn their gaze directly to where the man was sitting. “Watch thy tongue, pagan god, lest I deem it fit to rip it from thine mouth-”

The Fates were bullshit, and Ares[1] could not care less about the children of Nyx. He hated the fact that he was all but thrown into the middle of his uncle Poseidon’s domain. He hated that he was all but fished out of the ocean by the mortal and the angel. And he hated that out of all his fellow Olympians, he was the most intimately intertwined with the mortals. Not Aphrodite. Not Hestia. Not his mother or his father. Him. Maybe Dionysus[SK1] . But his half-brother was of mortal origin, so he didn’t really count. He was Ares, God of War. He had died a thousand deaths with the soldiers on the field. He will die a thousand more. Unlike Athena, who strategized and commanded, only fighting with mortals when she deemed it needed, he had always been there. Had felt spears and arrows and bullets pierce and end the lives of soldiers. Out of all the Olympians, his ichor was the most mingled with red. The moment the angel unleashed their warning, he was shrugging off the towel- it was in Athena’s colour- and he was lunging for the mortal who had been surprisingly unperturbed in the presence of a god and a servant of ‘the Lord’. He covered the mortal’s ears with his hands, and he couldn’t help but pause momentarily when he felt how soft she was. He had forgotten how soft mortals were. Had forgotten how fragile their body and soul was. [1]Epithet to note; Ares Gynaecothoenas, the god feasted by women. The women of Tegea in Arcadia defeated the invading Spartans to defend their city, capturing the Spartan king whilst they were at it. Whilst the depiction didn’t show Ares’ involvement and seems to focus on the ability that Marpessa showed to take initiative. The women later partook in a feast that only women were invited + to honour Ares. And babe, he was literally the patron god of the Amazons.  [SK1]Do I want him to be Zagreus too? He’s also Diwonuso… A god that was once mortal is such a tasty idea, no matter how many times I’ve seen it done. Maybe Gen could mimic it to a degree? She could be the immortal cursed with mortality… Cursed to reincarnate over and over and over again?

Have I told you lately you’re cool? Because you are. I love this so much. Absolute patchwork relationship with three different beings from three different backgrounds. The absolute care Ares has for Gen? Oh, I love it. Samzaya’s a “I am so far removed from humanity, I know much and so little at the same time” which is fantastic. I love them already and look forward to hearing what the fuck their apocalypse is all about.

[grifonecoronato]

Annoyed at the Argument that The Acolyte Breaks Canon with Ki-Ad-Mundi

I really wish this argument would die already.

In this scene in episode 8 of The Acolyte, where Vernestra briefs the small council on the rescue mission they're about to undertake, Ki-Ad-Mundi's mere presence annoys orthodox Star Wars fans.

They call it "canon-breaking," because, according to some books published long ago, Ki-Adi-Mundi was supposed to be born 38 years after the events of The Acolyte... and this matters.

Also, more to the point, Ki-Adi-Mundi's presence here makes it impossible for him to utter his 𝔡𝖊𝖊𝕡𝐥𝕪 𝒓𝘦𝕝𝖊𝚟𝚊𝓃𝘵 𝒂𝔫𝗱 𝒗𝓮𝒓𝒚 𝗶𝘮𝔭𝗼𝐫𝙩𝙖𝑛𝖙 𝑙𝗶𝐧𝚎 during The Phantom Menace...

"[...] the Sith have been extinct for a millennium."

I don't enjoy writing about lore, but I'll do it for you here.

Why This Line Makes Perfect Sense

Yes, even in the continuity of The Acolyte, the line from The Phantom Menace makes perfect sense, because to be Sith is to be part of a culture, a secret society. It's one dark side tradition among many.

All Sith are dark-siders, but not all dark-siders are Sith.

In fact, during the meeting of the small council in The Acolyte, other present Jedi offer alternative possible explanations for what happened to Sol and his team, namely thatit could have been:

...a fallen Jedi...

...a splinter order...

...something else entirely!

There are enough threats to Jedi all over the galaxy, that the likelihood that it originates from The Sith is almost laughable to the people in-universe.

(maybe it's not laughable to us in the audience that the Sith are responsible, because we're expecting the Sith to be there... but then again, we've seen the trailers for The Phantom Menace, while the characters of The Phantom Menace are hardly aware they're in a Star Wars movie)

Alternate Universe: A Conversation Between Special Agent Qui-Gon Jinn and MI5 Director Ki-Adi-Mundi

As a thought exercise, imagine if the conversation between Qui-Gon and Ki-Adi took place in 2024, and instead of Jedi they're secret agents.

In an earlier scene, Qui-Gon was attacked by a rival spy, and now he tells M all about it.

QUI-GON JINN: "I was attacked by a mysterious man." MI5 DIRECTOR KI-ADI-MUNDI: "How terrible. What do you know about the man who attacked you?" QUI-GON: "He was a trained spy. My only conclusion can be that it was a member of the Black Hand." KI-ADI-MUNDI: "The Black Hand...?" QUI-GON: "Yes". KI-ADI-MUNDI: "You mean the Serbian secret society responsible for the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which caused World War I... in 1914? That Black Hand?" QUI-GON: "The very same". KI-ADI-MUNDI: "... why...? Why would you possibly assume that THE BLACK HAND is responsible for this attack? I mean, of all the groups that could possibly attack you... Russian Foreign Intelligence, Mossad, rogue CIA, drug cartels, disaffected youth... why do you conclude that it HAD TO BE a secret society from Sarajevo from 110 years ago? They're long dead!"

In the end, Ki-Adi-Mundi is a character, and characters have roles in a story. Ki-Adi-Mundi's role is meant to be a skeptic, whose long-lived experience teaches him to not seek the first answer that comes his way.

He's a foil for the protagonists, who we as the audience know are ultimately right in their suspicions.

But in-universe, Ki-Adi-Mundi has seen a lot of stuff, and so he's able and willing to accept alternative, more reasonable explanations than the tales of a Jedi suffering from heat exhaustion on Tatooine.

[cultofdionysusnet]

⅃M - ɘdiꙅ qi|Ꮈ ɘʜƚ ᴎo u ɘɘꙄ

Imagine a world in which all your favorite tropes have been turned topsy turvy. Where once the bad boy only likes you is now the nice guy only hates you. You are confused but play along because everyone loves a good trope, right? Come play in our new event where everything is reversed and have a giggle while you do so.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Masterlist: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊First Submission by Jackie @mint-yooxgi: That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father (Seonghwa, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Second Submission by Anya @anyamaris: Twisted Fate (Soobin, Txt) Prompt Chosen~ soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Summary: A character in your writing calls to you and you can't help but wish him into reality.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Third Submission by Daaeun @daddyfordaeddy: Do it like me (Hongjoong, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ good guy/ bad girl

Summary: You want to have some fun with Hongjoong in the (almost) empty library

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Forth Submission by Jasper @starlitmark: What They Don't See (Seonghwa, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ no one believes they're dating

Summary: Sooner or later, your friend will have to admit that you and Seonghwa are dating… most likely later, considering they still don’t believe you.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Fifth Submission by Holy @holybibly: Too Fucking Hot to Deal (Wooyoung, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ too hot to cuddle

Summary: When the summer heat hits the city, all you want to do is lie around under the air conditioning and do nothing. But your step-brother's best friend is showing you a whole new way to beat the hell out of the heat. Too hot to cuddle, but great to fuck.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Sixth Submission by Topaz @sanjoongie: Grumpily Ever After (Hongjoong, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ true hate's kiss

Summary: when you're cursed with the hanahaki curse, your only discourse is to search out King Jongho and to get a kiss from him to cure yourself. But when a certain master of spies sticks his nose in your business, life is suddenly a lot more harder

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Seventh Submission by Queenie @wooyoungqueen: True Hate Kiss (I.N, Stray Kids) Prompt Chose~ true hate's kiss

Summary: I.N popular boy in the academy everyone feared him but one night he was turned into a toad, due to a young witch practicing her magic  until Lee Know saw and picked up I.N finding out who turned him into a toad. A witch appeared saying only a hate kiss will break the curse. Not the kiss of love but a hate kiss of his mortal enemy. 

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Eighth Submission by Rie @pyeonghongrie Anything You Could Do, I Could Do Better (Ateez, Hongjoong) Prompt Chose~ Reverse Academic Rivals

Summary: You and your academic rival do what academic rivals do, trying to one-up each other in grades. But the thing is, both of you are teachers.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Ninth Submission by Orion @nebulousbrainsoup Romantically (Stray Kids, Jisung) Prompt Chose~ Impulse Marriage

Summary: After your most recent subpar date, you're ready to swear off dating altogether. So, it seems, is your roommate. When you throw out a half-joking suggestion, the afternoon takes a surprising turn for the better.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Tenth Submission by Bro @bro-atz what we do to boys who are on the run (Ateez, Mingi) Prompt Chose- accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Summary: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Eleventh Submission by Sar @kpop-stories-21 Down In Flames (Ateez, Mingi) Prompt Chose- soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Summary: The wielders of Light and Dark magyk have been at war for countless years. Many skilled Mages on both sides have fallen to the ages-old conflict. But now, a cruel twist of fate could spell a terrible end for both sides.

[fulcrumstardust]

Please tell us more about "So glad we almost made it" (& is this from the line from "everybody wants to rule the world" or just a coincidence?)

YES absolutely! I loooove this verse:

There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down When they do I'll be right behind you So glad we've almost made it So sad we had to fade it

(peak angst)

anyway! I had this wip for YEARS (uh), it's all over the place scenes half finished here and there. Basically Cassian is presumed KIA until he's not. Jyn learns that he's been (allegedly) captured while undercover and sent to a mining asteroid. Nobody knows who he is there.

Now for context it's the thick of the war and politics are just ~shit~ for the Alliance, stealing content from Mr Freed where they have to buy the freedom of slaves from terrible people etc. Anyway. A rescue mission is underway, keep in mind they aren't sure Cassian is actually alive. And Jyn obviously joins in (after threatening Melshi).

The diplomatic way isn't fast enough for her so she infiltrates the prison herself, finds Cassian who's dying from septicemia and tries her hardest to get him out. spoiler alert, it does not end well.

angsty preview 🔥 (in case you need more whump, cw: injury etc)

“I'm looking for the Starbreaker's crew,” she asked around, briefly kneeling beside strangers. “Heard anything?”

Empty faces shook their heads silently as Jyn went through the groups of prisoners sitting on the dusty ground. “Starbreaker's crew? No?”

She attracted curious stares, but no one found the courage to inquire on the matter. Those people had been here for weeks, months maybe, they had no energy to spare for an obsessive woman asking questions about a lost ship.

Moving towards the back of the underground prison, Jyn caught the profile of a man that seemed painfully familiar in the oppressive darkness. “Cassian?” she called with sickening hope, only to let her hand fall back when she realized it wasn't him.

Jyn stood up and scanned the dark room, asphyxiated by her internal fears. What if he wasn't here? What then? What will she do now that she was locked up with a bunch of prisoners in this shithole of a planet? Talk about a flawed plan…

Barely keeping her brain from freezing in panic, Jyn didn't notice the person following her—until a young voice startled her from her existential dread. “You're looking for Cassian?”

Jyn flung around. “Yes,” she said, facing a dark-haired boy that couldn't be much older than twelve. “You've seen him?”

The boy nodded and Jyn forgot all of her following questions, her face suddenly burning from anxiety. Cassian's here. He’s alive.

She quickly walked into the footsteps of this stranger as he gestured for her to follow.

Behind a curved wall, laying on the ground under a dirty rag, Jyn discovered the silhouette of an unconscious man. She kneeled in a hurry, her mind trying to reconcile her memories of him with the brutal reality. For a shameful amount of seconds, she wanted to say: no, that's not him. But it was. Ish’ka… it was.

Jyn cupped his face between shaky hands, feeling the burn of a feverish skin under her touch. His eyes were rimmed by dark circles, the hollow of his cheeks eaten away by a full-grown beard. She could barely tell if he was breathing and, when she checked, found that his pulse was weak and shallow.

Cassian looked beyond miserable. He looked like a dying man.

“Cassian,” she called in vain, “can you hear me?”

“Careful,” the boy told her with a protective stance. Jyn decided to pay him some more attention for his tone alone. When she looked at him with a questioning gaze, he pointed toward Cassian’s legs. “He’s got a bad injury.”

Jyn had seen plenty of bad.

It didn't even begin to describe the horror of what she discovered under that smelling sheet. Blood drained from her face with a gush of nausea. She tried her best not to gag at the sight of the wound, fear in her guts. She could only imagine; Cassian had taken a blaster shot to the lower leg, or maybe caught the explosion of a mine—not a direct impact, a bursting of heat that caused the skin to implode.

It would have taken long enough to heal, had he been able to access medicare immediately. The non-treatment only led to an infection of the damaged tissues, coloring the surrounding skin with a contrasting dark color, and inviting more bacteria to feast on the scene. Jyn could almost smell it over the putrid odor of that place. She feared the infection had passed into his bloodstream already.

“I tried to clean it,” the boy said with a shy voice, “but here…”

Jyn tried to focus her mind on him long enough to reply. Although she knew nothing about him, he seemed genuinely distraught by Cassian’s condition, which pierced through the walls of blind terror surrounding Jyn's heart.

“I'm sure you did your best,” she said and touched his arm. “What's your name?”

“Horizon, ma'am. People call me Hoz.”

“Thank you, Hoz.”

The boy lowered his voice hesitantly, glancing around with a frown as if he was about to deliver sensitive intel. “Are you… Jyn?”

Her eyebrows draw higher with careful hesitation. She considered the surprising possibility that Cassian had made friends with the boy—which was somewhat out of character... or telling her everything she needed to know about Hoz.

“Did he tell you about me?”

The boy shrugged. “He didn't tell your name at first… only that he needed to go home. But sometimes, he calls for a Jyn, so I figured…”

She felt like someone had punched her in the guts. “How long since you last talked with him?”

“It's been… a couple of days, ma'am. Are you here to get us free? The… Alliance?”

“I’m going to get you out.” Jyn promised. She lowered her face so she could whisper to Cassian in turn: “I'm going to get you home. It's almost over. Stay with me.”

[calisources]

GAME OF THRONES: HISTORY AND LORE -MAGIC. all sentences are taken from a mini-web series of hbo's game of thrones with different characters narrating different aspects of the world. this specific sentence memes is made from various videos related to magical aspects of the world (r'hallor religion not included) change pronouns, names and locations as seen fit.this is a long post.

Wargs and the Sight.

When my turn came,  I would ask Old Nan to tell us of magic and monsters.

Long ago, the world was new,  the children of the forest sang the song of the earth and the earth listened.

Magic was strong in those days and the children could commune with all the beasts of the forest.

The greatest of them could even leave their bodies to hunt, swim and fly in the skins of animals.

Then the first men came with fire  and swords, they burned the way woods and cut down the children 

After peace came, the two races shared the land and the children's gods for thousands of years.

Nobody knows how or why but the magic of the children began to emerge in men.

maybe one child in a thousand would be born a warg, fewer still would be born with the sight.

With it the children could know of events far away and even though still to come, some say the sight was the children's most powerful and terrible secret.

It helped turn the tide during the long night.

Magic has since fled our world.

How can you tell if the man is wearing the beast or the Beast is wearing the man.

I don't like scary stories anymore, because I'm in one.

The Night's Watch and the White Walkers.

I am the sword in the darkness, I am The Watcher on the walls, I am the shield that guards the realms of men.

I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch for this night and all the nights to come.

Legend tells of a winter that lasted a generation and of a vast and terrible darkness that fell across the land.

It came to be known as the long night in the midst of this darkness.

The White Walkers emerged from the far north with their armies of the Dead. They waged war against the living, laying waste to villages and old fasts leaving terror and destruction in their wake.

After years of brutal conflict and unbearable loss an alliance of the first men and the children of the forest managed to drive the walkers and their minions back into the frigid northern wastelands from whence they came.

To prevent another invasion, the first men erected the wall a massive fortification 700 feet in height stretching from the frostfang mountains

It was a structure unlike any ever built indeed, some Montaigne acknowledged having been completed with the aid of Giants or using the powerful magic of the ancient children of the forest.

Men were required to guard and maintain it and thus the Night's Watch was born a sworn Brotherhood tasked with defending the realms of men against the dark forces.

The White Walkers have yet to return.

Dragons.

Fire made flesh. such as the nature of dragons.

Fire consumes leaving nothing at its end, nought but ash.thus the fate of the Targaryen and their dragons thousands of years ago.

valerian stumbled on the first dragon eggs in the mountains of the 14 fires 

cannot imagine shepherds could hatch dragon eggs and bind such creatures to their will but whatever aid they must have had is lost to history.

 what is left of Valyria is a smoking wasteland ash in time.

 Aegon Targaryen and his sisters brought their three dragons who had escaped the doom to Westeros perhaps thinking to regain his people's lost glory 

He proved that armies were no match for dragons

 His first act to order, his dragon balerion the black dread to melt the soles of his beaten goes into his new Iron Throne

their skulls used to line the throne room of the red keep in order of birth.

The oldest, Balerion, could swallow an ox.

The Targaryen never stopped trying to revive their dragons.

Aerion Brightflame drank a draught of wildfire and burned to death.

 The young Daenerys Targaryen has hatched three dragons far to the east.

 If she were to be so foolish as to march on Westeros she will not find as her ancestor Aegon did seven disparate kingdoms frightened by strange beasts.

We have known of dragons now. We have seen them die.

[softguarnere]

Hiya bestie!! So this is totally just a Thought ™️ but whenever you get a chance, could you please write a "Wait For Me" from Hadestown-type vibe where the only thoughts that keep Lieb going during the hell that is Bastogne are thoughts of the girl he left behind and thoughts about their talks during better times or letters maybe, about how he'll find his way back to her no matter what because she's his bashert (Yiddish for his destiny, fated one/soulmate)!

Idk, we just need more Yiddish-speaking Joe in the world 🤭

Thank you so much in advance!! 💖

A/N: Aly my dear, I have been obsessed with this idea since we talked about it way back last month. I'm so sorry about the wait (school and life have both been crazy), and thank you so much for your patience! 🫶🏼 You are absolutely right: this fandom needs more Yiddish speaking Joe! Let this man connect with his roots!!!! 👏🏼 I'm sorry it's short, but I hope you like it bestie 💖

(This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: mentions of war, some religious imagery/ideas

Miracle of Miracles

Joe Liebgott x reader

Actions speak louder than words, his father had taught him from a young age. And that lesson wasn't all talk, either - Joe had seen his dad surprise his mom with enough flowers, help her carry groceries unasked, and surprise her by making dinner for their family enough times to see the I love yous displayed in every little move.

And that's just fine with him; he's never been too good with his words, so he's all about action.

Yet with all the distance between the two of you, it's now words that speak to Joe. Your words, from your letters. The letters that he keeps in his pocket at all times. The letters that he reads every night to feel closer to you.

You - the only thought that keeps him going in this place.

He keeps telling himself that if things would calm down for just a second, then he would be able to put his pen to the page and write you back.

Except this early night, for once, is quiet after the nightmarish events of the day. He's hunkered down in his foxhole, leaning against the hardness of the packed earth behind him, trying to find some semblance of warmth, and he can't figure out what to say.

Plenty of thoughts swirl around his head. Awful, horrifying thoughts of the things that he's seen since coming to this frozen hell. Terrible memories of trees exploding and his fellow soldiers sliding into foxholes as screams of terror and pain ring out across the landscape.

Okay, so there are thoughts, but they're definitely not the type that he should be sharing with you.

Part of him wishes that you were there. To hold, to talk to. It's actually better that you're not stuck in a place like Bastogne with him, though. You're the antithesis of the forest he's found himself in - he doesn't even want to imagine the sunlight and warmth that emanate from your soul being snuffed out in the dark gloom of the foxholes.

He has your letters. Enough heat is carried in your words to see him through.

See him through. That's his favorite thought: the idea that holding onto memories of you will get him through this whole thing in one piece - God walking Daniel through the lion's den. Because if he can just survive Bastogne, he's pretty sure the promise of seeing you again will drive him through the rest of the war, like some sort of miracle. Whenever he reads your words he can practically hear your voice and see your smile already.

Dear Liebling, all your letters begin. And all end with, I'm still here - waiting for you.

For him. A wonder. A miracle. How did he get so lucky? From the first time your eyes met, he felt like something in his soul recognized something in yours. It felt like it was meant to be; fated since the beginning of time, like he would find you in this or any other lifetime - his bashert . . . his soulmate.

And he's coming back to you if it's the last thing he ever does.

It's been so long since he's seen you. So long since he's been able to properly write to you. If he were back home, he would have surprised you with a bouquet of flowers tonight, and tomorrow he would be making you breakfast - I love you I love you I love you punctuating every movement, every glance, every smile.

But your not here and he's not there. That means there's only one way for him to show you all the love he carries just for you.

Shivering, he pulls out a piece of spare paper and unfolds it, propping it against his knee as he squints to see it through the growing darkness. He blows on his hands and rubs them together to warm them up while he thinks.

Finally, he puts his pen to the paper and just does it - which is arguably what he's always done best. After all, you're his fated one, his destiny. Your soul is like a reflection of his. If anyone will understand what he's trying to say, it will be you.

Dear (Y/N), he begins. Have I ever told you that I've loved you since before the beginning of time?

[michelleelizabethtanner]

Annnnnd I’m back….

So, the scene in Beth’s kitchen where she says “What did I do now?” and the discussion ends up with Rio stating “he’s in our way”… super curious to hear what you you read between those lines. Cause the exchange feels loaded even tho it’s brief.

Please come back any time! ❤️❤️❤️

It is so heartbreakingly funny that all these two people needed from each other was some sort of confirmation of the other’s feelings. Like, that is ALL they needed.

Rio tried every single shady approach he could possibly think of to woo her. Set her up as his fall guy, kidnap her and try to force her to commit murder, threaten to kill her, make her watch while he killed someone, take all her stuff and money, threaten to turn her in to the cops for a murder he committed, make fun of her dead bedroom and rub up against her ass, invite her to dinner with his family and bring her to orgasm for dessert, then tell her she looks pretty in her dress the following day, kidnap her sister and make her cry… Like, this man tried every trick in the book and somehow she still wasn’t choosing him. Imagine! He pouted over her SO much that whole season!

Until he gave it one last shot and changed his approach. Instead of playing tug of war with her, he let her win. He brought back her stuff and her campaign money, told her he believed in her, made adorable banter with her, took a t-shirt with her face on it because he thought it looked cute. If we remember all their interactions prior to that – he was extremely guarded, wouldn’t even glance at her cleavage, resigned himself that she isn’t going to choose him. Probably told himself he didn’t care. Until Nick really started goading him about it. Rubbing in Rio’s face that he took Beth from him. And in true male fashion, Rio suddenly became capable of emotional intelligence when presented with a male rival.

The way that man GIGGLED when he realized Beth was screwing Nick over. All his angst and pouting and frustration with how Beth was slipping further and further away was suddenly gone and his world was full of possibilities again. She gave him the smallest sign, and he was at her door, knocking respectfully, sitting at her counter with his soft smile and sparkling eyes, telling her he’s choosing her. He needed SO little from her to dive in head-first again. Just a sign that she wasn’t Nick’s and BOOM, there’s Rio basically proposing to her.

All that is to say, I don’t think there’s much between those lines in that conversation in her kitchen. It’s one of their most straightforward interactions. Rio’s being fully and completely honest with her. “He’s in our way.” I’m choosing you. Above family. Above my pride. Above my anger and above our history. Because of our history. I’m choosing you. So if you need something, darlin’, all you gotta do is ask.

And that was all Beth needed. Just a sign that she isn’t “just work,” and BOOM, there’s Beth trusting in him implicitly. Despite the fact that he never showed up to meet with the Secret Service. Despite the fact that Mick came to shoot her and she believed Mick worked for Rio. She believed in him fully. Took off her mask for him. Stopped lying to herself for him.

How f&$@ing romantic is that???? I still can’t get over how insane this couple is. And how hypnotic their standoff is. Until it isn’t a standoff anymore and they decide to be terrible people together. A love story for the ages.

[queenlucythevaliant]

When Lucy returned to school for the spring term, Peter sent a war poem. It dropped from the crease of his letter into her lap, as unexpected as a firebomb.

“On Receiving News of War,” the title read, and Lucy’s heart lurched. She was sixteen and Peter was twenty-one. The war had ended three years ago and he had only been a British soldier for a matter of months before he was discharged. Now, this poem came: words from the Last Lot, the 1914 war. Lucy picked up the loose page and read.

ON RECEIVING NEWS OF THE WAR

Snow is a strange white word;

No ice or frost

Have asked of bud or bird

For Winter's cost.

Yet ice and frost and snow

From earth to sky

This Summer land doth know,

No man knows why.

She looked up in shock. What did Peter mean in sending this? Was it only that it made him think of their first days in Narnia, white and frozen under the White Witch’s curse? He could not have missed the title. Lucy worried her lip between her teeth, considering. Her brother did not often use words idly.

Red fangs have torn His face.

God's blood is shed.

He mourns from His lone place

His children dead.

O! ancient crimson curse!

Corrode, consume.

Give back this universe

Its pristine bloom.

Oh. Yes, alright. That made a certain kind of sense. And there, at the bottom of the page, was a single line writ in Peter’s hand. “Variations on a theme,” he had written, “only I’m not yet certain what theme it is. Do you have an idea?”

Several, in fact. Lucy’s mind lit up in an instant, all a-whirl with memory and typology. She wasn’t a child any longer, and in small bits her many battles came back to her. Peter, she was sure, remembered even more of Narnia’s wars.

Yet Lucy remembered the ice of Lantern Waste on the first day as though no time had passed at all. She remembered the crimson of Aslan’s blood. She remembered the thaw. In her mind, those things had nothing and everything to do with Britain’s last war. Nothing: the two worlds were as different as King Arthur and Winston Churchill. Everything: because maybe Arthur and Churchill were not so different after all.

That night, after a trip to the library and with a book of poetry on her desk, Lucy composed her reply. “Another variation,” she wrote, and carefully copied out the lines.  

All the dead kings came to me

At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming,

A few stars glimmered through the morn,

And down the thorn the dews were streaming.

And every dead king had a story

Of ancient glory, sweetly told.

It was too early for the lark,

But the starry dark had tints of gold.

The poem was called “The Dead Kings.” Peter was not dead, but Lune was and Cor was. Caspian was. It was easy to imagine them appearing in the trenches and whispering their stories into the ears of British soldiers.

“Caspian would have liked the notion, I think,” Lucy said thoughtfully.

Peter leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes. Come to think of it, I rather like it myself. If I were the dead king, I mean.”

“It’s strange—I think these were meant to be sad poems, the way they were written. The world unwillingly cursed and the ancient kings dead. Yet when you apply it to Narnia, I don’t think it’s terribly sad at all. Maybe a little melancholy, but hopeful too. Like I know something that the poet doesn’t.”

“You do know something that the poet doesn’t,” answered Peter.

“I mean about war and dying and all. It’s all so distant for me, you know? And yet I often suspect that I know secrets that some men who actually fought couldn’t guess at. The hopeless men, maybe. In Narnia it was all more beautiful. Having lived there elevates even war and death, in this world.”

“We were, both of us, soldiers once.”

Lucy nodded.

“How about this one, then?” Peter shoved his book across the table, nearly upending the cream along the way.

The drab street stares to see them row on row

On the high tram-tops, singing like the lark.

Too careless-gay for courage, singing they go

Into the dark.

“Simple,” said Lucy. “Singing on the way to war is courage. Singing in the dark is just about the bravest thing a person can do. Just because these boys go into the battle without knowing what it’s really like doesn’t make them any less brave for going, or for singing.”

“You would know,” her brother smiled fondly.

With tin whistles, mouth-organs, any noise,

They pipe the way to glory and the grave;

Foolish and young, the gay and golden boys

Love cannot save...

“It makes me think of Susan,” Peter murmured.

“I can see that. Our love cannot save her, only Aslan’s.” Lucy frowned thoughtfully.

“No, no—I mean I wonder if that’s how Susan thinks of us: foolish children still playing games where singing in the dark means anything at all. Gay and golden, but naïve and careless by the same token. Too caught up in notions of courage and glory to realize that we live in a world where good people die.”

“Oh Peter, you don’t really think?”

“She told me once she’s afraid that we’ll never grow up, did you know? I wondered if she meant that we would always be like children, or if she worried we might die young. Sometimes I still wonder.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” said Lucy. “To always be child-like, or even to die young. Not by half.”

Peter snorted. “You might not mind dying young, but I’d certainly mind it. You’re my little sister, Lu. If you die young, it means I’ve done something wrong.”

“Well of course I’d mind! There are so many things I mean to do once I’m grown up. But I’ve always thought—ever since Father Christmas handed me that dagger—that I might. As long as I died for something, it wouldn’t bother me. I think I could be a rather good martyr.” She winked across the table.

“Don’t you dare. If Aslan has short lives in mind for either of us, we’ll drink what we’re given. In the meantime, let’s both of us focus on growing up well.”

The next week, Lucy went with Marjorie Preston to the mail room. It was Marjorie’s birthday and she was expecting a parcel from home, but Lucy was also privately hoping for another letter from Peter.

An abundance of riches awaited Marjorie: an enormous box that the two of them had to lift together. Thus, Lucy tucked Peter’s letter under one of the box’s flaps as they carried it, and it was Marjorie who tore open the envelope when they reached the dormitories.

“What in the world is this?” Marjorie exclaimed, waving a poem under Lucy’s nose. Lucy snatched it away and hungrily read the words, considering how this variation fit Peter’s theme. Then, she noticed that Marjorie was still beside her, tapping her foot impatiently.

“My brother sends me war poems,” Lucy explained hurriedly.

“That’s strange.”

“Do you think so?” Lucy considered. “Well, no matter.”

WAR GIRLS (here Peter had added “& VALIANT QUEENS”)

Strong, sensible, and fit,

     They're out to show their grit,

   And tackle jobs with energy and knack.

     No longer caged and penned up,

     They're going to keep their end up

   Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

"Does he mean you?" asked Marjorie, wrinkling her nose.

Lucy laughed, but didn't dispute it. She went to fetch some paper and a pen.

On they went for the next several months, passing poems back and forth in their letters. Some of them were hopeful and some despairing, some sad, some darkly funny. It was a dialogue in a war that Peter scarcely remembered, and Lucy even less. In time, Tennyson and others from before the Last Lot worked their way in. Even Shakespeare made an appearance with several selections from the Henriad. Spring lurched into summer which tumbled into fall. Peter turned twenty-two in August and Lucy was seventeen in November.

Then, at dinner at Professor Digory’s house one night, the specter of a Narnian king appeared before them. Before they left, Peter found the poem he was thinking of in the Professor’s study and gave it to Lucy.

Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,

And loss of things desired; all these must pass.

We are the happy legion, for we know

Time's but a golden wind that shakes the grass.

“Does it feel different this time?” he asked once she had read it.

“Yes,” replied his sister, “and no. It feels obscurely like it did the night Aslan died. Like something is hanging over us.”

“I think this is the end,” Peter said bluntly. “He said we wouldn’t ever go back to Narnia, yet here we are. It feels like the end. Do you remember what it was like the night before a battle?”

“Yes. I didn’t before, but I do now. Like we had to gather up everything inside ourselves and name it. Fear and courage, love and memory.”

Peter sighed. “We ought to get going. There might be ice on the roads tonight.”

Lucy went into the closet and fetched her coat. Peter followed, moving a fraction slower than usual.

“Peter?” Peter turned and looked at Lucy, who was standing in the doorway with her fur-trimmed collar turned up around her throat. “It was a good poem, Peter. The right poem. Time’s but a golden wind that shakes the grass…”

Golden. Golden like Aslan’s mane, which they both so dearly longed to touch once more. Lucy tossed the poem round and round in her mind all that evening.

Before he and Edmund left for London, Lucy slipped an envelope into Peter’s pocket. “Read it on the train,” she told him.

Peter nodded. “I have one for you too.”

It was the last conversation they shared in the Shadowlands, though neither knew it at the time.

When Lucy unfolded her poem, she recognized the words. It was her favorite war-poem, which she’d first sent to Peter months ago when their correspondence had begun.

Sombre the night is:

And, though we have our lives, we know

What sinister threat lurks there.

But hark! Joy—joy—strange joy.

Lo! Heights of night ringing with unseen larks:

Music showering on our upturned listening faces.

It almost made her want to giggle, how well Peter knew her. Lucy thought of him and Edmund together in London; she ached for Susan, who had chosen not to join her siblings in their last battle for Narnia. She breathed in deep and thought of music on the way to war.

Death could drop from the dark

As easily as song—

But song only dropped,

Like a blind man's dreams on the sand

By dangerous tides;

Like a girl's gold hair, for she dreams no ruin lies there,

Or her songs where a lion hides.

That last couplet was wrong. Peter had changed it. The poem ended with, A girl’s dark hair and kisses where a serpent hides, but Peter had written gold and lion instead.

When Peter unfolded his own poem on the train, he found only a single stanza, annotated on nearly every line.

It didn’t pass— (His will be done) it didn’t pass-  (His will be done)

It didn’t pass from me.

I drank it when we met the gas  (His will be done)

Beyond Gethsemane! (His will be done)

The train halted and the whistle blew. Peter shook Edmund awake beside him, and together they went to unbury the rings.

 .

 Poems referenced: “On Receiving News of the War,” Isaac Rosenberg; “The Dead Kings,” Francis Ledwidge; “Joining the Colours,” Katharine Tynan; “War Girls,” Jessie Pope; “Absolution,” Siegfried Sassoon; “Returning, We Hear Larks,” Isaac Rosenberg; “Gethsemane,” Rudyard Kipling

[lanceappreciationblog]

(Hey, it’s Johto Elites anon back again! :D) Well, since you asked so nicely (<3) I do have some ideas for an anthology planned out already, but I will have to do some character sketching to figure out exactly how I want everyone to come out! The Elites are harder to pin down than Lance because they don’t have much media to draw on, but looking at their outfits I think I can get a pretty good idea lol. Here are the rough ideas I already have rotating in my head:

The beginning, middle, and end of the three-way prank war between Will, Karen, and Koga. (And, as a bonus, Lance’s revenge >:))

Will inviting Lance to join him for a joint meditation session. Lance has a great time as someone who hasn’t relaxed in three years straight. Will has a terrible time as a psychic/empath who is slowly being crushed by the actual spiritual manifestation of Lance’s stress.

Lance meeting Janine for the first time when she takes over the Fuschia Gym. New achievement unlocked: Become an honorary bruncle (big-brother-slash-uncle?) without even doing anything.

Lance getting injured (poisoned, perhaps, if I choose to be so evil 😏) on a big, hush-hush espionage mission and accidentally outing himself as a G-Man to the Elites in the worst way possible.

Koga and Bruno sparring and wrecking the crap out of the dojo, and the aftermath.

Clair meeting Karen for the first time when she visits Indigo Plateau to see Lance. Cue the world’s pettiest cat fight.

Agatha giving Lance some mean old grandma advice that almost makes him feel better after he loses to Ethan.

Lance challenging Bruno to an arm-wrestling match. An outstandingly stupid decision, honestly.

Bruno giving Elite Four-era teenage!Lance some unsolicited advice for how to get closer to Lorelei. Never mind that Lance absolutely did not ask and could have lived a happy life without ever having had that conversation. (Outing myself as the second Lance/Lorelei anon here because I think baby!Lance having an awkward crush on Lorelei is cute :’3)

Lance helping Lorelei out of a bind when some guy hits on her at a League party.

Karen taking Lance back to his room when he gets drunk at a League party. (I won’t lie, I also kind of ship Lance and Karen. I love me a tsundere x oblivious nice guy ship.)

Lance feeling bad and making up with Clair after they have an argument over her conduct as a Gym leader.

Agatha paying Professor Oak a visit after she retires from the League.

Karen feeling insecure about her place on the Elite Four, and Lorelei giving her some much-needed advice. (Because they should be gal pals!)

This is a lot, but I hope it satisfies so far!! I’m not sure if I have the commitment to truly make it happen but if not at least I’ve sent these ideas out into the aether for other people to read. I do want to make it happen though so I will be back when I get working on it :’)

Anon, my dear anon. These are all excellent!!

Oh my goodness. If I could animate I'd make these all into shorts because I can imagine them so vividly!

There's so much potential in character dynamics here!

I can imagine the anthology ending with one big Johto surprise event for the Indigo League members, but they aren't aware of it happening so they're all sitting in the league, bored because challengers have been quiet that day, and when someone finally suggests they go outside they get flashbanged by a festival happening right outside the league and all the Johto Gym Leaders, the Johto protag trio, and Silver of course! run to take them by the hand and drag the dwelling workaholics to take the rest of the day off and celebrate!

(Horray for dance party endings 😆)

[forgottenlunarium]

An enigmatic NPC from our ongoing Pathfinder campaign- a powerful ally, or a soon-to-be enemy? Little bit of a bio beneath the cut-off, nothing too crazy 😘

Aurora Thomasin Ouris II (aka Azmodai, the Guildmaster, Tamzyn) has a past shrouded in mystery. Raised in the Thaerian Valley, in the Kingdom of Asteria, her earliest years are an enigma even to her. Her mother, a powerful mage by the name of Seltzin Ouris, claimed that she was the product of a fleeting union between Seltzin and a gifted swordswoman, though the swordswoman had left on her own travels long before her birth. The birth, by Seltzin's recounting, had been catastrophic, and for many years the young Aurora had dwelt on the cusp between life and death. It was only through her mother's incredible medical genius that Aurora had been snatched from the jaws of oblivion. Though dubious of her mothers stories- increasingly so with age- Aurora could do little but take her at her word. It would be her elder brother, Graham (yes, that guy), that took care of Aurora during her formative years, for their mother was cold, distant, and preoccupied with her great works. Though their time together was but short, Graham left a lasting impression on the young Aurora as a man of great kindness and intelligence. Even after his supposed death during the Second Siege of Grimsreach (Seltzin seemed unfazed, as if she had known all along that her son had survived), and the following decade and a half of separation, Aurora never forgot her brother.

Time passed, and soon enough Aurora was inducted into her mother's work. It was... well, my players are reading this no doubt (hello 🐝), so I'll leave the rest of this bit to your imagination. In short, Aurora became a key member in a secret society known as the Draufsangr League, taking up the name "Azmodai". Over the course of a handful of years, and a series of increasingly terrible and unlikely circumstances, Azmodai and the rest of the League came to lead an army of demons and undead in a short-lived war in a Nightmare Realm, besieging the last free village beneath a blood red moon.

Yes, I know, it's exactly as bizarre as that sounds, and then some..

Well, not long after this, her mother ascends to godhood in a nasty ritual involving murdering demigod children, cutting open her stomach and putting a pocket dimension inside, slathering herself in god blood oil and then igniting said oil with a super evil flame (all whilst her son watches in horror (yes, i know, classic girl stuff)). However, to come into her her full godhood at that particular time would, for reasons to complex to get into right now, be a Bad Move. So, in a stroke of utter malignant brilliance, Seltzin Ouris embeds her embryonic godly form into the head of her youngest daughter, to gestate as a flower in her head until the time is right.

Then the moon falls, some corrupted demigods fuse into one and then get stillborn when their artifical soul womb (the blood red moon) is popped by a vampire being killed by a group of traumatised queers (it's a long, cursed story), and Graham (Azmodai's brother, remember?) and his two work buddies grab some stillborn demigod souls and ascend to godhood too, but are sealed away by a three-headed tree goddess formed from three triplet sisters.

Yep.

This causes time travel, and Azmodai and the League are zapped back in time and through space to the First World, to kick it for like 25 years or something and pave the way for the coming of the end times.

Anyway a long story short Azmodai falls in love with another member of the League (half-dragon lady who is the last queen of Asteria, which was obliterated when the moon erupted from beneath the earth, you get it by now). Together they formed a Guild for adventurers, then the dragon lady died.

Now she's lost in a dream-like underground, beyond the reach of her brother (mirror-Graham, formed after he dimensionally "surfed" on a crumbling demiplane, again, long story) or her daughter (well, technically a third of a magic baby that she got some dwarves to make out of platinum and mithril, and then a wizard put life into. same difference).

That's Aurora!

Also her mother is actually also called Aurora and was a medical student from 1820s Scotland who was created by two lesbian doctors from alien god goop. :)))

Just a normal TTRPG setting :^)

[apoptoses]

I’d been waiting for the right moment to sink my proverbial teeth into Fade Into You (approximately 45 minutes ago) and I am yet again losing my shit 🥹 not that I was expecting any less from you/this series but that was somewhat of a religious experinece ngl. Loved how much of a soft, sensual and all-encompasing experience it was for both of them, and how much of an exercise in vampire lovemaking it was for Daniel. That shit will come in HANDY someday, and I wonder how aware of it Armand is at the time and how deep in denial he’s trying to remain. Like, if that was a test... Daniel passed with flying colors. THE perfect vampire lover idc what anyone says, Armand had to know right there and then that this was the man who’d keep him coming for the rest of eternity. He lucked out fr fr

First of all, Daniel tying Armand’s hair into a bun, some A+ imagery right there (have you ever seen those pictures of Christian Bale doing it to Natalie Portman? the armandaniel vibes are there imo). Then you had Armand slowly but surely letting his guard down for Daniel, letting himself be vulnerable and soft and needy, and Daniel isn’t sure why but he knows this is a huge thing and will make it count.

And this: “For a moment Armand only blinked at him, so sweet and drunk looking that Daniel couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He’d always assumed it would take something rough and forceful to bring Armand out of his head. He’d never imagined gentleness would have him drifting and slow to respond.” THE SONG OF MY PEOPLE!!! Such a gorgeous description of pliant, sweet Armand. I’m obsessed. How many people have had the chance of seeing Armand like this? Two, maybe three in 500 years? Incredible. 

“It was an unnatural coupling. A shared release no mortal was ever meant to experience, that maybe even god himself hadn’t intended for in the great design of the universe” yesss and that’s what so fascinating about them, Daniel should’ve never experienced any of the things he experienced as a human with Armand, they were not meant for him, and yet he did and they were and he loved every bit of it. He’s such a gift, which is exactly what Armand called him🥹

Can’t wait for the third installment!!! Over the moon that this is now an ongoing series. All of your WIPs sound heavenly tho how exciting 😭xoxo DA

dungeon anon, just the person i wanted to hear from after a rough day ♥

Loved how much of a soft, sensual and all-encompasing experience it was for both of them, and how much of an exercise in vampire lovemaking it was for Daniel. That shit will come in HANDY someday <- Right!! he's so curious about the vampire experience, there's some appeal there for him. like he knows what armand's body can and can't do and he wants to be like him regardless! so i really think he would fixate on it and want to experiment with what being one of armand's kind is like in the more literal sense, and what their physical relationsip could be like once he's turned.

and listen armand describing daniel as gentle over and over, even at the end of TVA when they're on a break is forever on my mind. and so it only made sense that he would be gentle in taking control! it's so natural that he's good at this!

and i just love any excuse to get armand out of his head so like. i had to do it, i had to let someone be gentle with him for the first time in centuries (and i had to let daniel see what he's like in that state because lord! what an impression having armand melt for him like that would leave. he'd be running the show in that bedroom for weeks after just to keep getting repeat performances)

so i'm so happy you loved it!! and i'm having so much fun working on the third part. i've never done freshly turned daniel and he's such a delight, so eager to share a first with armand ♥

Here's a snippet, the first few paragraphs:

It was a terrible thing they’d been through. The sudden threat, the burnings, Akasha. Like living through a World War in the span of just a few days. He should have found it all terribly traumatizing , the way they’d all narrowly escaped death- how he’d escaped death twice in mere hours!- and yet Daniel could only find it all surreal. He watched out the window of the SUV for the breaks in the palm trees and greenery where the lights of Night Island shone through. They were like great fireflies dancing in the darkness, there one second and then, as the cars crawled down the private road, blinking out of existence. Daniel touched the tinted window and tried to blot out the lights with his fingertips. He laughed to himself when a particularly bright one glowed like a halo around his ring finger. “Are you alright?” Louis murmured from the seat beside him. Daniel nodded. “Yes. I have to laugh to keep the dread away.” “Dread?” Daniel didn’t answer. Instead he listened to the low rumble of old Italian coming from the very back seat. Armand and his Maker, Marius, whispering in a dialect he couldn’t understand. Every now and then a word caught on his mind- ‘boy’, ‘danger’, ‘mistake’- but the grammar was lost to him. The declensions of the verbs were too unfamiliar, lost and mutated by time.

Meeting these people should have been an ecstatic thing. And it had been, at first. Walking into the great Sonoma compound and seeing vampires he’d only heard of in Lestat’s book alive and real before his very own eyes- it had been like being a child and discovering Santa Claus wasn’t a myth. Like seeing the living faces of saints. And then, one by one, those relics of Armand’s past had dismissed him. Marius declared he’d lacked common sense (he’d heard that thought and giggled at it at the time, now it sat in his dead stomach like a stone). Gabrielle ignored him when he spoke. Lestat- well, he had cast a glance or two Daniel’s way but then he’d been preoccupied by his mother and Louis, those artifacts of his own existence. And that was fine, really. Daniel was used to being something of an outcast by now. Always a peripheral presence in a group but never an intimate friend. He’d gotten used to that during his years with Armand when they’d uprooted themselves over and over, moving through cities and friend groups like fish through water. No, what sat wrong with him was Armand’s continued distance from him.

(and then- well I swear it gets better from there ♥)

[tsuki-sennin]

New form~! ...or I guess, to be more accurate (in my opinion at least), the rest of the new form~!

(Fucking Tumblr deleted my post just as I was making it, smh)

Anyways, Spoilers, I guess~!

-Geatsing Time

-Oh no, I sure hope Ace doesn't die before the opening credits!

-Keiwa and Neon with the save!

-Run, boy!

-He's awake!

-"Whoa man, you look terrible. Do you get injuries in the future too?"

-Deathless behavior.

-I find it very interesting how they flipflop between "era" and "world" when talking about the differences between Ziin and Ace.

-Learning the fear of human loss, huh buddy?

-Oh fuck, Nobunaga. ...are we talking Core Medals, a little bitch, a Parka Ghost, or Akira Date?

-...I don't wanna imagine him in the DGP, that's an implication I don't wanna imagine.

-Iulius Caesar.

-I have to say, the actor they got to play "A" certainly looks the part of a young Mediterranean lad from that era.

-It's definitely a Lord of Dark Odio-type situation.

-Oh fuck, Kekera.

-And Keiwa too, he's here!

-Keeps getting that coin.

-...certainly a lot to take in.

-"I die. I come back. It happens."

-We know of five major incarnations of "A". The (presumed) original, Garfield, Yakumo, Li, and of course our boy Ukiyo.

-Certainly five lives aren't enough for two thousand years, so that leaves us with far more questions than we've had before. How many wars has he fought in that weren't DGP related? How many languages has he spoken, how many spouses or kids did he have? How many friends or favorite foods or books has he read? Did he ever cross paths with non-DGP Riders before the movie? Or hell, how many times has Ace lived as woman or even an animal?

-Certainly five lives aren't enough for two thousand years, so that leaves us with far more questions than we've had before. How many wars has he fought in that weren't DGP related? How many languages has he spoken, how many spouses or kids did he have? How many friends or favorite foods or books has he read? What kind of day jobs did he have? Hell, how many times has Ace lived as woman or even eschew gender altogether? Did he ever cross paths with non-DGP Riders before the movie?

-All we can do is speculate.

-Ohhhhh, Ziin...

-I'm gonna be honest, I'm really enjoying Suzuki-san's performance, it's quite compelling.

-They say "Never meet your heroes", but...

-Oh boy, here comes the bad guys.

-Hey, Niram. Y'know that Driver of yours lets you fight too, right? I mean, Beroba's far more competent than Chirami could ever dream of being, but she's a teenage girl and you're a grown-ass man and obviously far more experienced in fighting than she is. You could very easily put her in gay baby jail if you show a little initiative.

-Shaddup Neon, he's finally doing something!

-Oh man, this is great.

-I'm being spoiled with these untransformed fights.

-"He doesn't need protecting, does he?" THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING

-Going for the jackpot, huh Neon?

-"Come, Geats!"

-I have to wonder how much of Yakumo Eisu is in there.

-Oooooh, Gigant Time! Been a while.

-Hammer Time?

-Time to dance, Commander.

-Oh, speaking of gay baby jail.

-Boost Mark Two!

-Y'know, I'm starting to think Niram got sick of me complaining and is legally shutting me up.

-Anyways, WOOOO NEON, YOU GO GIRL

-Irritating man! That's Ace for ya!

-Save your oshi, Ziin-kun!

-Oooooh!

-He's awake now!

-Ooooooh, that's a nice standby loop.

-"Move over here, please."

-Dual On!

-Hyper Link!

-Oooooooooh, that's saucy!

-Laser Boost! Ready, Fight!

-Yeah, that's a good one.

-"You like my colors?"

-Jet Lagged!

-Saa... koko kara Highlight da! :)

-350 YEARS WHAT

-Oooooh, those're some spicy effects.

-Oh, okay, he's just

-Psychic now.

-Boost Time!

-Ooooooh, theme's playing, it's real now!

-Second half too~!

-Man, this is so chaotic, I love it.

-Finish Mode!

-Laser Boost Victory!

-She is down.

-See you later, Granny Gotham.

-I see Buffa doesn't appreciate his fans very much.

-"This Driver is mine now."

-All's Well That Ends Well?

-Ooooh!

-Awww, Ziin :)

-"You're my Number 1 Fan, lad."

-"Hmmmm... You lied to us, stole my power, and have the nerve to run your mouth off at me? How adorable."

-...he knows he needs the fingerprint authentication, right?

-"Bleeeeh. Hmph."

-I think Goddess Lady's a bit displeased with you, Michinaga.

-Right, next episode.

-NEON BIRTHDAY.

-Oh no, they're ruining her birthday. That's an unforgivable crime.

-"Surprise Bull-fighting Game", well it was nice knowing you Michinaga.