#warhorse one

[movies-tv-more]

Movie Home Video Releases for November 7, 2023

[film-warhorse-one-guardaita]

GUARDA-FILM — Warhorse One Streaming-ITA / Film senza limiti

STREAMING! Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Sub 𝐈𝐓𝐀 In ALTADEFINIZIONE/CB01 Gratis Adesso puoi guardare "Warhorse One" streaming in Altadefinizione, Amazon Prime Video, Sky Go, Now TV o gratu𝐈𝐓𝐀mente con avvisi pubblic𝐈𝐓𝐀ri su Cineblog01

🔴GUARDA LINK : Warhorse One il 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀

🔴GUARDA LINK ᐅᐅ Warhorse One il 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀

Regia di Steven Caple Jr.. Un 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 con Anthony Ramos, Dominique Fishback, Tobe Nwigwe, Peter Cullen, Ron Perlman. Cast completo Titolo originale: Transformers: Rise of the Beasts. Genere Azione, Avventura, Fantascienza, - USA, 2023, durata 117 minuti. Uscita cinema mercoledì 7 giugno 2023 distribuito da Eagle Pictures.

Warhorse One ci porterà negli anni 90, in un'avventura in giro per il mondo, dove ritroveremo gli Autobot e una nuova generazione di Transformer, i Maximal, che prenderanno parte all'eterna battaglia sulla terra tra Autobot e Decepticon.

Warhorse One streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 / Warhorse One / 2023 / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo 𝐈𝐓𝐀 / 𝐈𝐓𝐀liano / gratis / altadefinizione / Scaricare / Guarda / Vedere / sub 𝐈𝐓𝐀 / netflix / il genio dello / disney / cineblog / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 da vedere / cb01 / cineblog01 / youtube / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 stasera / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 azione / senza limiti / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 per tutti / tanti 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 / trailer / programmazione / roma / cinema / trama / uci cinema / milano / diretta /

Warhorse One streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀, Warhorse One 2023 streaming da guardare in Alta Definizione e in lingua 𝐈𝐓𝐀liana o sottotitoli. 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Warhorse One streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo in 𝐈𝐓𝐀liano - Questo 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 mostra effetti e scene sorprendenti come inseguiTransformers - Il risveglioti in auto o spari che coinvolgono uno stuntman Questo genere di solito racconta del bene contro il male, quindi la guerra e il crimine sono argoTransformers - Il risveglioti comuni I 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 d azione di solito richiedono solo un piccolo sforzo per guardare, perché la trama è di solito semplice Ad esempio, il 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Die Hard in cui c è un gruppo di terroristi che rilevano i grattacieli e chiedono il riscatto per gli ostaggi Dopotutto, un eroe salverà tutto I 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 d azione di solito non fanno piangere le persone, ma se il genere è mescolato al dramma, le emozioni saranno coinvolte Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo online 𝐈𝐓𝐀 Guarda Warhorse One streaming completo 𝐈𝐓𝐀 altadefinizione, Warhorse One 2023 Streaming sub 𝐈𝐓𝐀 Warhorse One 2023) 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo 𝐈𝐓𝐀liano, Un 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 è una serie di immagini che, Warhorse One streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 dopo essere state registrate su uno o più supporti cinematografici e una volta proiettate su uno schermo, creano l illusione di un immagine in moviTransformers - Il risveglioto Questa illusione ottica permette a colui che guarda lo schermo, nonostante siano diverse immagini che scorrono in rapida successione, di percepire un moviTransformers - Il risveglioto continuo Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 il genio dello streaming Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 gratis senza registrazione Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 streaming gratis tanti 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 in streaming gratis Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 da vedere Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo streaming altadefinizione Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 streaming in altadefinizione Warhorse One Altadefinizione streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 cineblog Warhorse One 2023 streaming 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦senzalimiti Warhorse One 2023 streaming cineblog01 Warhorse One 2023 streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 altadefinizione Warhorse One 2023 streaming altadefinizione Warhorse One streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀 cineblog, Un 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 in bianco e nero è un 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 nel quale l immagine in moviTransformers - Il risveglioto è un immagine in bianco e nero L uso consolidato dell espressione "Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo 𝐈𝐓𝐀liano " è improprio Di conseguenza anche l uso consolidato dell espressione "𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 in bianco e nero" è improprio, poiché in realtà le immagini in moviTransformers - Il risveglioto sono registrate su una pellicola a scala di grigi ed inoltre vengono definiti così anche 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 registrati con particolari filtri che utilizzano sfumature di un solo colore, come il seppia

EsperiTransformers - Il risveglioti con i primi proiettori di animazione basati su fenakisticope furono fatti alTransformers - Il risveglioo già nel 1843 Jules Duboscq commercializzò sistemi di proiezione phénakisticope in Francia tra il 1853 e il 1890 scaricare Warhorse One 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 completo sub 𝐈𝐓𝐀 Warhorse One 2023 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 streaming 𝐈𝐓𝐀,

❏ STREAMING MEDIA ❏ Streaming media is multimedia that is constantly received by and presented to an end-user while being deliveEspejo, espejo by a provider. The verb to stream refers to the process of delivering or obtaining media in this manner.[clarification needed] Streaming refers to the delivery method of the medium, rather than the medium itself. Distinguishing delivery method krom the media distributed applies specifically to telecommunications networks, as most of the delivery systems are either inherently streaming (e.g. radio, television, streaming apps) or inherently non-streaming (e.g. books, video cassettes, audio CDs). There are challenges with streaming content on the Internet. For example, users whose Internet connection lacks sufficient bandwidth may experience stops, lags, or slow buffering of the content. And users lacking compatible hardware or software systems may be unable to stream certain content. Live streaming is the delivery of Internet content in real-time much as live television broadcasts content over the airwaves via a television signal. Live internet streaming requires a form of source media (e.g. a video camera, an audio interface, screen capture software), an encoder to digitize the content, a media publisher, and a content delivery network to distribute and deliver the content. Live streaming does not need to be recorded at the origination point, although it krequently is. Streaming is an alternative to file downloading, a process in which the end-user obtains the entire file for the content before watching or listening to it. Through streaming, an end-user can use their media player to start playing dig𝐈𝐓𝐀l video or dig𝐈𝐓𝐀l audio content before the entire file has been transmitted. The term “streaming media” can apply to media other than video and audio, such as live closed captioning, ticker tape, and real-time text, which are all consideEspejo, espejo “streaming text”.

❏ COPYRIGHT CONTENT ❏ Copyright is a type of intellectual property that gives its owner the exclusive right to make copies of a creative work, usually for a limited time. The creative work may be in a literary, artistic, educational, or musical form. Copyright is intended to protect the original expression of an idea in the form of a creative work, but not the idea itself. A copyright is subject to lim𝐈𝐓𝐀tions based on public interest considerations, such as the fair use doctrine in the United States. Some jurisdictions require “fixing” copyrighted works in a tangible form. It is often shaEspejo, espejo among multiple authors, each of whom holds a set of rights to use or license the work, and who are commonly referEspejo, espejo to as rights holders.[c𝐈𝐓𝐀tion needed] These rights krequently include reproduction, control over derivative works, distribution, public performance, and moral rights such as attribution. Copyrights can be granted by public law and are in that case consideEspejo, espejo “territorial rights”. This means that copyrights granted by the law of a certain state, do not extend beyond the territory of that specific jurisdiction. Copyrights of this type vary by country; many countries, and sometimes a large group of countries, have made agreeTransformers - Il risvegliots with other countries on procedures applicable when works “cross” national borders or national rights are inconsistent. Typically, the public law duration of a copyright expires 50 to 100 years after the creator dies, depending on the jurisdiction. Some countries require certain copyright formalities to establishing copyright, others recognize copyright in any completed work, without a formal registration. It is widely believed that copyrights are a must to foster cultural diversity and creativity. However, Parc argues that contrary to preg beliefs, im𝐈𝐓𝐀tion and copying do not restrict cultural creativity or diversity but in fact support them further. This arguTransformers - Il risvegliot has been supported by many examples such as Millet and Van Gogh, Picasso, Manet, and Monet, etc.

Definition and definition of 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 / 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 While the players who play a role in the 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 are referred to as actors (Warhorse One) or actresses (woTransformers - Il risveglio). There is also the term extras that are used as minor characters with few roles in the 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦. This differs from the main actors, who have larger and more roles. As an actor and actress, good acting talent must be required that corresponds to the subject of the 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 in which he plays the leading role. In certain scenes, the role of the actor can be replaced by a stunt man or a stunt man. The existence of a stuntman is important to replace the actors who play difficult and extreme scenes that are usually found in action-action 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s. Movies can also be used to deliver certain messages from the 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦maker. Some industries also use 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 to convey and represent their symbols and culture. 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦making is also a form of expression, thoughts, ideas, concepts, feelings and moods of a person that are visualized in the 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦. The 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 itself is mostly fictional, though some are based on actual stories or on a true story. There are also docuTransformers - Il risvegliotaries with original and real images or biographical 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s that tell the story of a character. There are many other popular genre 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, from action 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, horror 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, comedy 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, romantic 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, fantasy 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, thriller 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, drama 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, science fiction 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, crime 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦s, docuTransformers - Il risvegliotaries and others. This is some information about the definition of 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 or 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦. The information has been cited from various sources and references. Hope it can be useful.

[movieposters1]

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

there is nothing i want worse in this world than to make a She Kills Monsters movie that is loyal to the script, campy as hell, and uses practical effects wherever possible, and also is shot on film.

unfortunately to do that i need to finish my degree, get funding, and buy the movie rights. hell is real and its being an undereducated queer film major with no money in the modern age.

[jhara-ivez]

Done. Took about 2 days in total hours. Made me regret being alive more than once (which several people had to suffer through... sorry). Naturally, I am very pleased by the result. Can't wait to see it printed.

[judithan-xing]

my little primarch // warhorse 40k

i dont fucking know

[wolfhednn]

　𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭 　/　drabble ₊

bones never need be cast to tell stories. in its living, that shield walked the earth as one of nameless thousands, whose dragonhood we may never know. in death, that name became obsolete, and its corpse the osseous structure of containment: for blood and glory, and many such things besides. history tells its tales in loops that are not quite loops, echoes that repeat with a different face, and in itself manifests between the cracks that form between memory, just as root and plant finds sunlight between the tines of a ribcage.

this is only one of such histories.

an oath to a master who did not hear:

the soldier wipes her spear on the wet leather of a dead man, and in the miserable muck of bog and rainwater ponders grimly the last of her strength. she has forgotten how she had come here and from where the fire in her breast had come ; she is certain it is the shield's doing, as certain as she is that maurice had not vanished as by accident as nemesis would have it seem. some of the others turn their eye from the abberations of their own selves ; and they are wiser for it, for in this hour it is only knowledge that deepens suffering when they are otherwise suffering all the same.

is there glory in dying knowing you are as wretched as you feared?

her mother would have said yes. yet she wishes now that these relics would take first the living mind before the body, so that if they had to suffer corruption for victory, they would at least do so with spirits unbound.

in this age, who can save them? who can save her, when nothing waited for them but dissolution?

in the end, there are those who would never be willing to turn. some, who had loved and hated their lord, who would let their pride become them before submission. some, who had begun to peer into the truth and could not stomach the resolve of the dead. some, who in their long night grew enfeebled, who had been stolen from in strength and twice over in spirit, in whose eyes the soldier understood the simple naivete of the mantra that said the strong would never be humbled.

she had grown, in the dark, to cherish one of these latter men, whose hands were so wetted in blood that the people called him saint for it. she had watched, in the dark, his flame dim and dim and somewhere along the way turn black ; the numbness of his heart and body made a far, far better shield than armor plate and leather strap, than one more person who would be willing to die in his name. and in that darkness she knew she was anathema to all their suffering and everything they had gained, and thus her shield could never be called love.

she would, instead, take rein for him and call down the white lance for him, renouncing her fealty for a belief in one who could not be belived in. this she knew——the helmed knight, behind his mildness, was mad. and yet in that madness was the sanctuary she had been searching for: an alternative to her mother's noble creeds and a fitting reprieve from a reality unfounded and too terrible to be beheld. to trust blindly that, in her last days, she could pretend to still be human.

. . .

so that, in ages forward, when they picked up the dead aegis from where the root and fern had taken shape between the crevices of her cadaver, there would be no shadow of her to be burned by the sunlight which may now shine. so that when they called it the steadfast, they might do so with a real reverence for a story that was never true. they would speak of a soldier whose heart had been strong enough to safeguard her lord, and not of one whose heart had learned, out of love, to guard itself——not in duty to, but in spite of.

for every soldier throughout time would find their rest someplace. and when the peek of twilight began to color from just beyond the sightlines, it was not abnormal to begin to wonder just what kind of haven that someplace may be.

　 the AEGIS SHIELD has awakened.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

met 24-25 hd season looks SO cringefail

[exhaustedalien]

the war horse in rdr is Rachel from rdr2 I don't care what anyone says this game is so lonely let john have his horse at least

[icryyoumercy]

once again facing the standard problem with writing tolkien fic

is there such a thing as a dual-purpose war and work horse, and if so, what would it be named in a world where there are none of the locations horse breeds are so often named after

if anyone knows things about horses, please advise?

[macaroni-rascal]

07: Valse Triste

08: Umbrellas

09: Great Gig in the Sky

10: Mahler

11: Hip Hip Chin Chin

12: Funny Face

13: Carmen

14: Seasons

15:

16:

17: Latch

18: Moulin Rouge

I know this is totally hypothetical but maybe it will be fun too! If Tessa and Scott had competed in the two seasons they took off, what would you have liked their free dances to be to complete their senior free dance portfolio? You can be as specific or general as you’d like! (Side note - I wish we could ask them this question and hear what they’d have to say!)

I look at this and think maybe they’re missing something jazzy, but they had an amazing Short Dance in Sochi (obviously I haven’t listed SDs here so those can be taken into account for your answer to consider their full repertoire). They’ve got character, they’ve got Latin, they’ve got romance, they’ve got ballet, they’ve got contemporary…maybe they’re missing something modern? Is there a warhorse you’d like to have seen them do? I’m going to ask this question around a few blogs to see what people say :) something fun for the offseason…

Hello! This is definitely very fun, and I love it!

I am always going to be just a little bit sad we never got a Hozier program from them, I think that would have been very cool and could slot very well into the more modern style. His debut album came out of 2014, so they would have their pick of songs to choose from. I'm imagining a piece of music similar to how they made Latch, where some is instrumental and then transitions into either Work Song or In a Week, depending on what vibe they were going for, I think that would have been amazing.

I'm going to lean in and give them a war horse, since they only ever did one (Carmen) and say that they could have gone true completely classic Swan Lake/Black Swan. It's so overused, it's been done, a team won a bronze medal with it in 2014 (wrongfully) and everyone and their mother has skated to it, I'd just want to see their take. I'll always want more ballerina Tessa, let her arms tell a story, they are the best arms in skating, and I'd love to see how they'd interpret it.

[aniseandspearmint]

Elven warhorses

guys you don't understand i love big buff horses so much

draft horses you are gods most perfectest creations

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

I will post about the day once my phone has a battery charge again but special shout-out to the violinist busking in downtown BTV for casually flexing on all the violinists in earshot with that set list.

[yanderedrabbles]

The Sorcerer & The Witch

Once, in a village deep in the heart of the forest, a witch was born.

On that day, the people of the village rejoiced, for it had been many years since a baby had survived childbirth. They came from hill and glen to see you, to thank the forest and the fen for lifting their curse.

Every man from woodcutter to farmer promised to keep you safe. Every woman from fishwife to seamstress swore to do the same. They called you foxfire, after those glowing forest waifs that light the wanderer's path. You were their greatest hope, their greatest pride.

[If only their love was enough to stop the sorcerer from doing what he did to you.]

When you were a child scarcely taller than a man's knee, a merchant came to your village. Driven more by desperation than greed, he'd reached the end of his route  without selling any of his wares and could not bear to return home a failure. So he said his charms and his prayers and set out for your village.

He was greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a merchant had come. He sold all he had to trade, even the tin and lead trinkets that city folk would never glance at. You came up to him when he was drinking and he stared at you with horror, for all the townsfolk on his path warned him that your village was cursed with no children.

But his horror soon turned to delight. You were a bright child and polite and asked him many questions of his travels. The villagers looked at you proudly, to see you impress a man as widely travelled as he.

When he left and stopped at the next town over, he told them of the single child in the childless village. Word soon reached the king and he stroked his beard and summoned his youngest sorcerer.

"It is strange indeed for only one child to have survived thus far. Go and see why that is."

The youngest sorcerer sighed but obeyed. He arrived in your village on the back of a steaming warhorse, his cloak billowing a black cloud behind him. The villagers cringed away in fear, but you walked up to him and bowed and welcomed him.

The sorcerer had a fine eye for magic and he could see a little of it in you. He should have taken you back to the king and had you trained in the craft, but you stood no higher than his thigh and were the only gift these villagers had. He gave you a flower of heart-wood, told you to be kind to others and left.

You grew from a child to young girl. Everywhere you went flowers bloomed.

That spring, a musician came to your village. Driven more by desperation than greed, he'd reached the end of his route without earning either fortune or fame and could not bear to return home a failure. So he said his charms and his prayers and set out for your village.

He was greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a musician had come. He was paid well for all his songs, even the old love ballads city folk would never listen to. You came up to him when he was drinking, scarcely as tall as his chin. He stared at you with horror, for all the townsfolk on his path had warned him that your village was cursed to have no youth.

But his horror soon turned to delight. You were precocious and sweet and asked him many questions about his instruments. The villagers looked at you proudly, to see you impress a man as charming as he.

When he left and stopped at the next town over, he sung about the one girl in the youthless village. Word soon reached the king. He stroked his greying beard and summoned his second youngest sorcerer.

"It is strange indeed for only a single youth to live among so many elders. Go and see why that is."

The second youngest sorcerer sighed but obeyed. He arrived in your village in a brilliant carriage with royal flags snapping in the wind. His guards were dour faced soldiers and the villagers cringed away in fear.

As before, you walked up to him and bowed and welcomed him.

The second youngest sorcerer spent a long time thinking, for your magic had grown and he too had a duty to take you away. But you were not yet a woman and he did not want to steal you from your village before your time. He gave you a flower of fire-heart, told you to be a  be obedient to your parents and left.

When next the king heard of you, many years had passed.

People spoke of you near and far - said that animals and trees bowed their heads when you walked past, that flowers grew in your footsteps, that you could heal any sickness of soul or body.

The king stroked his beard - all of it now as white as snow - and summoned the oldest and most powerful of his sorcerers.

"It is strange indeed for a village girl to have such powers. Go and see why that is."

The strongest sorcerer was a man well versed in even the darkest, most arcane magic and had lived through three lifetimes already. He had the face and the strength of a young man, but eyes like chips of stone.

He didn't sigh as the other two did before him. He only smiled in that distant, icy way of his and said he would be glad to obey.

He arrived in your village in the dead of night without horse or guards, a wolf skin cloak wrapped around him. The villagers paid him no mind - you alone noticed him and bid him welcome.

The sorcerer caught his breath. For you were indeed beautiful, and the trees and the animals did indeed bow their heads to. But more than that, your magic had grown from a trickle to a torrent. As old and immortal as he was, he had met few who possessed as much raw power as you did.

The sorcerer grew wary, for even he could not match your strength. If ever you turned your anger on the kingdom, you could turn cities to ash and armies to stone with a wave of your hand. You offered him some water to drink and as he watched you, he contrived an awful plan.

The sorcerer was a handsome man and could be as chivalrous as any knight if he chose. He gently took your hand in his and begged you to meet him in the forest.

You were sheltered, naive and no man had ever looked at you as he did. You blushed and simpered but made no promises.

The next day, he brought you a heart-wood flower and kissed your hand when he handed it to you.

"Heart-wood for your kiss, my lady."

You were just a village girl and no man had ever called you lady as he did, no one except the sorcerers had ever given you so fine a gift. Still, you did not go to meet him.

The next day, he brought you a flower of fire-heart and kissed your cheek when he handed it to you.

"Fire-heart for the fire of your love, my darling."

Your heart leapt at his touch, at the warmth of his body beside you. In a tumble of thoughts and confusion, you wondered what it would feel like if he kissed other parts of you. Despite the love you were beginning to feel for him, you still did not go to meet him.

On the third day, he brought you a flower of mountain-heart made entirely of diamond and kissed your lips.

"Mountain-heart in exchange for yours, my love."

You were his then, heart and soul, and he knew it. Perhaps it is a testament to his cruelty that he could make you fall for him so easily and feel nothing in return.

That night you set forth to meet him.

The brambles caught at your cloak as you walked, the deer rushed headlong along your path to confuse your way, the foxfire flickered. The whole forest tried to warn you. You were blind and deaf to it all, your mind filled only with thoughts of your handsome suitor.

He met you in a clearing under the moonlight and when you opened your arms to embrace him, he snapped his fingers and bound you to the earth with magic.

You struggled in vain, too frightened and betrayed to think straight.

"You are too wild and dangerous to let live," the sorcerer said, his magic twisting tighter around your arms.

You thrashed and whimpered, moonlight on your skin. The sorcerer was immortal and thought himself beyond mortal cares, but he was still a man.

He watched your dress slipping off your shoulder as you struggled and something began to stir in him. The hunger all men feel when a woman is helpless before them.

He touched his hand to your thigh and shivered at the warmth. "You are such a rare creature," he mused. "Beautiful and dangerous all at once."

He looked at you as no man had ever looked at you before. Eyes full of a desire you couldn't name.

Sweet, naive girl. How were you to know not to trust men sweet smiles but wolf eyes? How were you to know how hot desire burns? It scorches away morals and scruples, burns away guilt.

The sorcerer had his way with you. He stilled your tongue with magic, so you couldn't scream when he pulled your skirts higher up your thighs. He bound your arms behind your back so you couldn't scratch at him when he forced his way between your legs.

You didn't know anything about magic. Didn't even realise you had any. How could you fight against a man with centuries of learning? Countless spells?

When he was done and had laced up his trousers, he looked at you through eyes wicked with guile. Greed whispered in his ear - greed for your power, greed for your flesh.

"I won't kill you, girl. It would be an awful waste of magic." He stroked your cheek and you jerked away from him, unable to stand any more of his touch.

His magic grew tighter around you and he looked at you with an expression as remote and cold as the moon.

"I will instead bind you to me. Make you my servant and my slave for all eternity, able to speak and do only as I command."

You thrashed in your bindings and the earth trembled with your panicking magic. But for all the strength in you, you could not match the skill of the sorcerer.

His enchantment dug through your skin and into your rib cage. You screamed, cursed him and his gods. You would have turned the whole kingdom to ash with your fear if his magic wasn't holding you.

He took your face in his hands and you turned your head to bite into his palm. You bit hard enough to draw blood but he was too deep in his conjuring to either notice or care.

That's what you remember most about that night - the metal smell of his magic and the metal taste of his blood.

His magic was in your heart, in the very core of you. You could feel it like a hand touching the most sacred thing you owned. He was taking what no one else in the world could even touch.

The king's sorcerer wrapped your heart in magic and carefully - for he was afraid of you, despite his strength and his years - linked it to his own. You sagged against your bindings, your strength leaking out of you. He pulled your face up to meet his eyes and all he saw looking back at him was a dull compliance.

"You will listen and obey."

"I will listen and obey," you echoed. Inside your mind, you raged against the chains he'd drawn. But the sorcerer knew his work and when he withdrew his magic vines, you followed him demurely.

In the morning, he announced to the villagers that he was taking you as an apprentice and they all rejoiced to see you climb so high in the world. You hugged them and kissed them goodbye. The sorcerer was adept at his puppeteering and not a one noticed the screaming soul inside you.

The sorcerer held you in thrall. For a decade and then two, you followed at his heels and lent him your magic. He felled armies with a wave of his hand, parted the sea with a breath. Made the humble king of your kingdom into an emperor.

He had you whenever and wherever he pleased - bent over his desk or sprawled in the silk of his bed. Begging him to be gentle and begging him to be rough. He made your body respond to him, made you pull him closer and whisper that you loved him.

Trapped inside a body that you couldn't control, you grew hateful. The sweet village girl was gone, burnt away by the heat of his lips and skin on yours. Fom your awful prison inside yourself, you promised vengeance.

You watched and you waited and you plotted. When the third decade of your imprisonment came, the king passed and the crown prince was named his successor. He was strong and brave, but had little trust in magic and no trust at all in the sorcerer.

The moment he was crowned, he summoned the sorcerer.

"As a show of trust between us, I would have you keep your witch consort here at court," he ordered.

The sorcerer wanted to quarrel with the prince but his years had taught him it was too troublesome to make enemies of the powerful. He agreed to leave you at court while he went about the kingdom on his work. Afterall, what's a single season to an immortal?

For three decades he held the spell on you. Your obedience and the love he made you show had lulled him into a false sense of security. He had forgotten the hate on your face when first he chained you.

He bowed his head in obedience to the new king and gave you your chance to escape.

The king trusted you as little as he trusted the sorcerer and commanded you to stay near his side. From dawn til dusk you followed him. You were beautiful, as unchanged as the day the sorcerer captured you. And despite the prince's wariness and despite his best efforts, he began to fall for you.

On a night when the stars were shining cold and cruel, when the moon was newly hatched and invisible to the eye, you let your hair fall loose around your shoulders and dropped your layers of skirts and petticoats. Until you wore nothing but a white shift that showed the silhouette of your body when you stood in front of the fireplace.

The king found you waiting for him in his room, the firelight reflected off your hair. To his credit, he tried to turn you away. Tried to be noble and honour your virtue.

But he was still a man.

You'd learnt a long and hard lesson about the restraint of men. You laid your hand on his chest and felt the beat of his heart. There were precious few things the sorcerer allowed you to say, but you managed to find some words not restricted by his curse.

"My lord, I'm cold. Will you not warm me?"

The king's eyes grew dark with desire and his noble ideas of virtue crumbled under your touch. You pulled his face toward you and bit at his neck until he did the same to you.

You spent the night with king, teasing him until his restraint broke and he left bruises on your thighs.

The sorcerer came back on the full moon.

He slipped your dress from your shoulders and saw the bite marks littered across your chest. His grip grew tighter and the shadows of the room lengthened.

"Who?" he growled in a voice terrible with anger, "Who has touched you? Who dared to take what's mine and mine alone?"

"The king," you answered, for you couldn't lie to him.

"For how long?" he asked, as hearth fire began to flicker an awful green. "How many weeks has he had you in his bed?"

"Since the new moon," you answered, for his magic forced you to speak.

The sorcerer stood for a moment as still as the dead. Then his rage exploded in a ball of green fire.

It ripped through the walls of the castle, burnt through mortar and brick, through armour and bone. Distantly, people began to scream. In a blink of magic, he moved you both to the throne room, where the king was holding counsel.

The sorcerer clenched his fist and fire ripped through the throne room. It melted the great metal throne and turned the king to smouldering ash in a second.

In his rage, the sorcerer's magic was wild and unstable. With a bite of your wrist and a tremendous pull of magic, you were able to loosen your heart from his curse.

If he were not blinded by jealousy and bloodlust, he would have noticed it immediately.

His magic roared until the great palace was was in ruins, marble melted and running like metal.

Perhaps, were you were still innocent to the cruelty of men, you might have felt guilty. Might have felt horror at the charred husks of the king and his men.

But your years of captivity hardened you and all you cared about was escape.

When it was done, the sorcerer took your face in his palms and kissed you, without a single care for the palace that smoldered around him.

"You are mine," the sorcerer purred, "No matter how much the prince wished it otherwise."

You kept your face as carefully blank as if you were still under his spell and stabbed him in the heart.

It gave you just enough time to wrap your magic around him and bind him to the earth. He roared, pulling and twisting to no use.

You felt his magic weakening and for the first time in three decades, you were able to speak with your own tongue.

"What am I to do with you, sorcerer? For three decades you've held me. For three decades I've been your slave. "

You flicked your wrist and the fire around you flickered to nothing. It was only him and you and the moon, as it had been so long ago.

"For each year that passed, I thought of a different revenge. Cut you into little pieces while you're still alive and feed you to the ravens. Drain all your magic and leave you a wandering madman, entirely reliant on the mercy of others. Burn you at the stake."

Even in chains of magic, the sorcerer was formidable. A tiger waiting for a single misstep to pounce. Even as your prisoner, he looked unafraid.

It made an icy cruelty well up in you.

"No, sorcerer," you said in a voice like tombs opening, "All that is far too good for you."

You reached forward and plucked at the magic that held you to his will. In the beginning, all you wanted was to cut that connection, have total freedom. But you'd had three decades to learn cruelty and now a better idea came to you.

Your magic hooked into his heart, into the very core of his being. You could feel it like a hand touching the most sacred thing he owned. You reversed the spell and took from him what no one else in the world could even touch.

When it was done, you held his face in your hands.

"You will listen and obey."

He was the strongest sorcerer in the kingdom, perhaps in the world. He was the man who tormented you and used you.

"I will listen and obey," the sorcerer echoed.

He was the monster of all your nightmares. And now he was your slave.

On your travels, you heard of a village where babies never survived birth.

When you reached it, you were greeted warmly, for it had been many years since a traveller had come.

A child came up to you when you were drinking, a spright of a girl scarcely taller than your thigh. You looked at her with delight, for all the townsfolk on your path warned you that this village was cursed with no children.

"What are you?" she asked.

"A foxfire witch," you replied.

She mulled this over without fear.

"What do witches do?"

You smiled and conjured a heart-wood flower out of the air. She gasped and took it delicately, startled by it's beauty. More fine than anything in the village.

"I warn little girls about the dangers of the world."

You didn't say the rest out loud, but your thoughts floated on the wind and perhaps she understood the wisps of them.

I warn little girls about the cruelty and the lust of men. So that they are never caught as unguarded as I was.

Behind you, the sorcerer waited patiently with the horses. If his soul was screaming inside him, no one heard it.

[pastel-medic]

In another universe, the fight is a bit different.

Reblogs are appreciated!!! 🍰💖

Credits to my twin @hoshi-tsubasa for helping with the class swapping! Gonna make a blurb list on some things about the AU ;P (also I'm developing this as I go so new stuff might be added later!)

Gray Mann's daughter Olivia took over his position as chief executive officer of Gray Gravel Company, and conducted the army of robots to take over Mann Co.

Miss Pauling is the Administrator instead of Helen. She was the one who recruited the mercenaries for the fight against Olivia Mann's army

Mortician's father-son relationship with Kickboxer is a positive one.

Timebomb makes all of his explosives himself and rigs them to have timed detonations or manual ones

Alistair is the only one who knows his real name. Whenever someone asks for his name he provides a different one every time

Alessio is from a former mafia but escaped and took refuge with Miss Pauling

The stitches on Warhorse's face were done by Mortician after an incident on the field that almost left him dead

Welder helped install the sniper eye into Headbuster's eyesocket. It acts as a scope so he doesn't need to use the ones on sniper rifles

Wildfire was a former firefighter who combatted wild forest fires with new fires (a method called backburning)

Will do more doodles of this AU and they'll be on my AF as well! 🍰💖

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A Guide to Descriptive Writing

Descriptive writing makes reading a more visual experience.

Utilize descriptive writing, to show not tell your story to readers.

However, it is important to note that if passages of descriptive writing are too long or too complex, they will slow your story down.

Alternatively, the story's development and readability fall flat if you do not use a variety of types of words.

Take time to choose your words carefully, expand your vocabulary, and practice descriptive writing.

Below are some tips that may improve your descriptive writing.

Try Using Metaphors

Metaphors compare one thing to another.

Utilizing this technique is not saying the objects you’re comparing are the same, but that your audience can note shared traits between the two.

Example: Jordan is a living map.

Explanation: Of course, Jordan is not literally a living map. What the map and Jordan have in common is geographical information and the ability to help others navigate locations without getting lost. What the writer has done here is demonstrate to readers that Jordan has an excellent sense of direction.

Play with Similes

Similes also compare one object to another but discuss one thing as being like another.

You will often find words such as “like,” “so,” “than,” or “as” used in similes.

Example: Diego soars across the soccer field like a jet.

Explanation: Again, this is not a literal statement. The author shows us that Diego is a fast runner and creates a vivid image in the reader's mind that would not have been present if they had simply stated that Diego is fast.

Make a Statement with Hyperboles

Hyperboles are exaggerated statements.

They are used to make a point.

Example: Math class lasts a million hours.

Explanation: Your readers will know there is no way a class can realistically last a million hours, but they will understand the feeling of time dragging on when you’re doing something you do not enjoy.

Use Sensory Details

Adding sensory details is a great way to help your reader experience your story.

Depending on the character and story, sensory details may include sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste.

Be careful not to overload passages with sensory information.

Only use what is needed to communicate with the audience.

Example: Cold, wet glue dripped from the bottle onto her fingers; the tangy, chemical smell flooded her nose. She rubbed it between her thumb and long finger, relishing the transition from silky gliding fingers to tacky digits to peeling the cast of her fingerprint away from her skin with the satisfying crinkle of crisp paste.

Explanation: In this description of glue on skin, readers encounter details of touch and smell. Although this scene is not happening to readers at this moment, they can easily recall the smell of glue and the feeling of it between their fingers.

Choose Vivid Language

Choosing vivid language can form a clearer image in your reader’s mind.

For instance, you may select words that more accurately convey what you’re aiming to communicate, whether you are simply searching for a synonym to vary language or trying to locate a word with a more nuanced meaning.

Example: “The knight entered the kingdom on the back of a horse.” vs. “The knight stormed into the kingdom on the back of a mighty stallion.”

Explanation: Having a knight storm in on a stallion rather than enter on a horse is a much stronger, more heroic image. Additionally, stallion may be a better word choice than horse because it is specific. The word stallion tells the reader the horse is male and could be used for breeding, which, since this is a knight’s horse, could be relevant since it could be used to breed warhorses.

Incorporate Feelings

Crafting a visual experience for readers marks successful descriptive writing, but you also want your readers to experience your work emotionally.

For your story to reach its full potential, you need to incorporate feelings, whether those feelings are positive or negative.

Example: Desiree felt the weight of the empty space in bed pressing down and stealing her breath like a knee to the chest. She was cemented in place, limbs unfeeling, as she floated above the bed tethered to her body but no longer secure within.

Explanation: Here, the author shows the readers a woman dealing with the pain of grief and the hollowness that sometimes accompanies it. Most readers have experienced some level of loss in their lifetime and will understand and emotionally connect with Desiree.

Source ⚜ Descriptors ⚜ Common Metaphors ⚜ Mixed Metaphors Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Imagery ⚜ Notes ⚜ Writing Sounds