#wain-fleets

[wain-fleets]

facepaint halloweeenie miles with different eye colors

WHICH ONE LOOKS BEST? the black is creepy. thinkin about putting two red/white dots there, that would freak me out. the blue looks sweet, red is just demon.

#art #miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar twow #avatar 2 #recoms #recom squad #avatar quaritch #quaritch #halloween #spoooky #facepaint #avatar art #wain-fleets

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: after all these years, I still hold a place for James Cook in my heart ... I sort of jump between hypothetical talk and immersive: “he would” and “he does”. I do apologise. I hope you enjoy x

Warnings: mentions of drugs, violence ... ya know, normal skins stuff -

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

SFW🌿

⭑ You had been waiting for the next book in your favourite series to come out for ages.

⭑ You weren’t able to pre-order it, and somehow you couldn’t get it online, so you decided to go to your nearest bookstore

⭑ It was one of those big chain ones, and you were absolutely sure the book was there

⭑ So you made your trek, and stalked into the store, like a knight with a quest. No one could stand in your way 

⭑ And then someone stood in your way

⭑ A young guy, around the same age as you, maybe a few years older, was looking through the self-help section. His bag was on the floor and he took up the aisle floor. 

⭑ Your cheeks flushed as you uttered an “excuse me” to which the guy either didn’t hear or didn’t care.  

⭑ Now, chaos and uncertainty were common themes in Cook’s life - 

⭑ There wasn’t a time when he felt truly secure, and that hadn’t bothered him. Not even when that drug dealer tried to kill him, or when he had to start from the ground up. 

⭑ He just guessed that he wasn’t meant to stay in one place for too long

⭑ And that’s how he ended up in this city. It wasn’t too busy, nor was it deserted. Possibly a community on the rise. 

⭑ You grew up there, and all your family lived close by. Not that you saw them weekly or anything, but close enough that you could run into your great uncle at the cinemas. 

⭑ Anyway, Cook was oblivious to your need to access the books he was barring. He had both earphones in, since he found that they calmed him in his day-to-day life, he couldn’t hear a word you said. 

⭑ You sighed and waited for a minutes. Tossing up how long you should wait, or if you should weasel your way in front of him and quickly snatch the book. 

⭑ Your patience wained thin however, and you tried to catch Cook’s eye. It was all you could do to not blow your top. Two years you had been waiting for this book, and you had avoided as many spoilers as possible. 

You near shouldered him out of the way, and he was surprised because he had no idea that there was another person in the aisle, let alone right next to him. 

⭑ And so your first interaction left him ... with a lack of a better word - stumped. 

⭑ But he thought that that would be the last time he’d ever have to be in your presence. 

⭑ He was wrong. 

⭑ Your relationship bordered on enemies to lovers

⭑ But Cook had grown a lot as a person and he wasn’t so quick to anger; the day to day life seemed so flippant. From what he’s experienced, life is fleeting. 

⭑ When he saw you again, he grinned though. He knew it would piss you off, so he put on the most shit-eating grin he could. 

⭑ He may have grown as a person, but he was still James Cook. 

⭑ And there was no way he wouldn’t at least press one of your buttons. 

⭑ Cook has a nickname for you, it’s a teasing one. If you’re shorter than him, then he calls you Hob, which is short for Hobbit (he’s recently got into Lord of the Rings) If you’re taller than him, he’d call you Leg, one it’s short for Legolas (he thinks Elves are super tall in the LotR books) and also for your long legs. 

⭑ His grin always leaves you with butterflies 

⭑ And as much as you denied it, he was constantly on your mind

⭑ Can you imagine the first interactions with your parent(s)/Guardian and Cook? Oh god, he would be so nervous. 

⭑ You want him to tell you everything about his life, but there’s this line that he treads. Does he tell you everything? Will it risk your safety? He’s also scared of scaring you away

⭑ You always feel so safe with Cook. He just knows what to do. He isn’t afraid of getting in a fight, but he won’t actively seek that out. 

⭑ I think he has dyslexia, or he isn’t the best at reading and writing, and he’d be so embarrassed about that. But you would help him. And you would do so without making him feel inferior. 

⭑ You were surprised to find out that he’s a good dancer

⭑ One of your favourite things about Cook is the ability to make you laugh. Even if you’ve had an awful day, he has this talent where he can make it all better

⭑ He loves sleeping in your bed. It’s one of the times when he feels the safest and of course, it helps that you have a cosy room. 

⭑ You have an ABUNDANCE of books in your room, and the first time that Cook saw them, he felt so overwhelmed. Because why would someone so smart?? Want him??? 

⭑ But the way you explained these books changed his overwhelm to smittenness (is that a word?) 

⭑ Oh my god if you had siblings, he would get on with them so well. Imagine if you had a little brother, Cook would teach him how to defend himself, but also that smarts are just as important as fists. 

⭑There are times when he sees you with your family and he feels ... wrong. He feels like he shouldn’t be there, that he’s tainting it somehow. 

⭑ But boy is he wrong. 

⭑ Your family adores him. 

⭑ And you have no idea where you’d be without him. 

⭑ Moving in together, he would always sleep on the side closest to the door, so that he could intercept any danger. (When he told you that, you felt incredulous, but little do you know, he has to think about these things.) 

⭑ This is a big change, because in other relationships he would sleep closest to the window ... so he could escape 

Theme Song: 

‘House of the Rising Sun’ a cover by Muse

Relationship Tropes: 

Reformed Playboy Learns His Lesson

Love Interest Has A Profession Protagonist Abhors 

Damaged/Doesn’t Believe He Deserves True Love x Sees The Good In The Other

  NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ Cook pursued you at first for sex, for something casual - nothing promised. 

⭑ Although you may often feel overlooked, ignored, or unworthy; you are anything but. And so, you didn’t want to be used for only a few hours and forgotten about. That wasn’t your style. 

⭑ When your relationship solidified, that was when Cook was able to feel you fully. 

⭑ He’s quite experienced and knows how to please. Especially with his mouth. 

⭑ One of his favourite things is making you laugh when you’re orgasming. 

⭑ He becomes very playful when you both get comfortable with each other, like the old Cook is back. There’s never a frown on anyone’s face when he’s around. 

⭑ Cook definitely eats ass 

⭑ I mean, hardly anything would weird him out? And I feel like he would be up for most things 

⭑ There wouldn’t be a room that you guys haven’t fucked in 

⭑ And there’s a huge difference between Cook fucking you, and having sex. Or how others would put it ... making love...

⭑ He can be vigorous, all-consuming, and wild. Like some sort of animal in heat. 

⭑ On the other hand, he shows you how he feels about you through sensual sex. Cook will take his time, and worship every part of your body. 

⭑ His other favourite sex act is receiving head - 

⭑ Cook likes to make you gag on his cock, he says “it’s such a pretty sight, seeing you down on your  knees.” 

#james cook #james cook skins #james cook x reader #james cook headcanons #james cook x you #skins #skins headcanons #skins imagine #dating would include #jack o'connell #skins x you #james cook skins headcanons #james cook skins x reader #would include #headcanons #fanfiction #reader insert #witchthewriter

[pandoraslxna]

Hello!

I know you're a very popular Avatar blog and I just wanted to let you know that I have started a new blog dedicated to Avatar art (specifically fanart)! The link is here: https://www.tumblr.com/avatarart.

If you have any suggestions on whose art to feature, please let me know! I am working my way through queuing up a lot of art right now, but suggestions are always welcome! If any of your followers would like to make suggestions, that would be awesome as well! I just think there are so many talented artists in our fandom who deserve to have their work saved on a collective blog somewhere for everyone to see <3

~ArtOfPandora (@avatarart)~

Ohhh I love this idea!!

@xstarcutx @thewarmblanket @kaznaxtopixel @aquarioangell l @sunny2po @lenesketch @pignk @wain-fleets @lovermyme @fkarelyxoxo @oakbuggy @leidensgenosse @littelsugarcube45 @reivich525 @choclodox @vonniieart @naomish-art @1-0t0r @thevanityofthevox @medicinstripes @zesty-stuff @viviartsy @kv003 @tsukioreo @feritirey @muhomora @veramitar @crazytom666 @amberlourichmond @quaritchsgirl @ollisid @gimmepandora @hikarikumi @tuna-a @alexstark2705 @supa-yel @niku30 @bluemurray @sullyfortress

These are all insanely talented artists that are or were at some point active in the avatar fandom and I’d love to see their art shared on your blog. They all deserve so much more attention 🩵🩵

#𝒯𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[loakstahni]

Do you have any avatar polyamorous stories you favor or recommend?

Yes i do! I'd recommend the jakexneytirixreader fics from my friend @quicktosimp! They also have one aonungxrotxoxreader fic too!I'd also recommend a fic from @wain-fleets! It's their lylexmilesxreader fic!

#roomie rambles^^

[zafrinaxyz]

tysm for the tag ! @cryinginthemoonpool

✨ Based on this thread ✨

[ imma keep it a buck wit cha , that chain is too long 😂 ]

Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people.

Z - Z4L [ smino , young pink , jay2 , bari , NOIR ]

A - Ain't My Fault [ Zara Larsson , r3hab remix ]

F - Find Yourself [ great good fine ok , before you exit , ashworth remix ]

R - Real [ great good fine ok ]

I - I Wish [ joel corry ft mabel ]

N - NO.461 [ masterclass ]

A - Absolute [ foxes ]

X - XXX [ kim petras ]

Y - YES! [ kyle , k camp , rich the kid ]

Z - Zack and Codeine [ post malone ]

no pressure tags 😘

@strongheartneteyam @xstarsdiary @wain-fleets @oakbuggy @poisonousrain444 and anyone else who wants to join! ☺️🩵

#ɓαɓɓℓεร ωเƭɦ ƶ ♡ 。・゜ #music thread game #url thread #url game #username game #username thread

[fantrollology]

so what really IS parable? mogo can you answer? i feel like we'd get a dodgy answer from fledge

You would be correct about that! Even if she wouldn’t be, I have access to much more information regarding its history than she has knowledge of.

Parable is the current name of a space station orbiting the star Paem. The station was constructed and originally ran by the Alternian Fleet. During it's Fleet proprietorship, it operated as a hub on a number of critical routes between colonies. At the time, it was known as the Paem Hub. Due to the traffic, it quickly became much more than a stopping point. Many trolls took up permanent residence within the hub.

During a conflict on a planet in a nearby system, the Fleet took over all operations in the hub for military use, including displacing a good number of the residing population, which the Empire regarded as stowaways or 'transients'. Their removal was officially documented by the Empire as reallocating resources and removing intruders. Some of their methods overstepped what seemed strategically necessary to residents and was seen as an exercise in control.

Predictably, this caused unrest within the stations populace. In the following perigees they began to rebel. These efforts are understood as initiated and largely coordinated by a former mechanic from the docking garages that lived on the station. For their efforts they would later earn the title of “The Luminary.”

While it began as organized sabotages to Fleet ships to strategically stop forced evictions and interfere with military operations, it eventually became a fully recognized coup. I could go on for a while about the intricacies of the conflict, so for the purposes of this summary I will leave it at that.

The coup ended in the residents favor; though ultimately not due to their military strength, but stamina. Due to the cost of the conflict and changing routes in the Empire, it became more financially sensible for the Empire to cease attempts at control and construct another station elsewhere.

It's worth noting that the Empire made several attempts to destroy the station in its entirety, all of which were thwarted by the residents. These ploys are deserving of their own summaries as well. Another time!

Anyways, the Alternian Empire eventually gave up attempting to destroy the station and left it to die. All shipments of resources were, of course, stopped. However, they underestimated the ability of the station to operate independently. The residents later named the station Parable, as a message to other rebellion efforts in the system. This message is highly subjective in intent and would probably be more engagingly and effectively described by a resident, or ideally The Luminary themself.

Parable has long since recovered from the conflict and now operates as a neutral hub. There have been some attempts to disrupt operations there, but those efforts are understood as symbolic and meant to demonstrate the continued power and awareness of the Fleet. The hub welcomes all ships, including smaller Fleet ships. Parable encourages residency and is regarded as a safe haven to many.

The Luminary continued to coordinate operations there until they became sick and unable to continue. Following their retirement, governance was more seriously deliberated and elections took place. The political arrangements of Parable are another discussion as well, but is largely regarded as led by its current Delegate Sentinel, Dymzka Kollin.

That about brings us up to date. If you have any specific questions about current operations I would be happy to answer! Additionally, my girlfriend Wain occasionally communicates with those on Parable. I may be able to point you towards other less known residents through her.

#mogo #parable #askbox #AND WITH THAT... I SLEEP #feel free to ask about any of this while i rest tho i will get to it tomorrow #tomorrow is a busy workday for me so it would make me so happy 2 be able to come off work and do more asks<3 #m0g0

[aftonfamilyvalues]

If recom blue lyle wain fleet wore round eyeglasses he’d be your type

not even close

#ask

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Sawyer x Claire

Claire is all alone in a strange house after Kate's left. But Sawyer is right next door.

The telephone rings. It's one of those old things, with a circle dial. Swayer looks at it like it is made of something contagious and gross. But he seems the only one to be hearing it. So he picks it up. "Yeah?" He asks, his voice slightly wavering. He has no idea what to expect.

"Sa-sawyer.." It's Claire's voice. "Oh ... hey Claire." He feels relief flood his mind. "Hi." Claire mutters. "What is the matter?" Sawyer asks. Worry starts to coil in the pit of his stomach. "Nothing... I just feel lonely." Claire mutters. "I ... erm.." Sawyer is not sure how to respond. Is Claire implying she wants him over? Or does she just want to talk?

"Can .. can you come over?" Claire asks. "Sure.." Sawyer mumbles.

He hangs up the phone.

He walks over to Hurly's room,opening the door a little and peering in. Hurly is asleep and Sawyer decided not to disturb him.

He jolts down a quick note in the kitchen. He would not want Hurly to worry come morning. Once he's put the note on the fridge with a magnet, he toes into his shoes and heads over to Claire's house.

It feels weird to think of it as Claire's house. It's not hers. The houses are not theirs. They just make due for the time being.

He knocks the door and Claire opens up right away. Has she been waiting by the door for him. "Heya." She sends him a wain smile. "Hey." He rubs his neck. Claire steps aside. "Come in." She says. Sawyer crosses the threshold. "Thanks for coming over." Claire says. "Don't mention it." Swayer replies.

He follows Claire into the living room.

"Do you want something to drink?" Claire offers. Sawyer shakes his head. "I'm good, thanks." He says. Claire heads into the kitchen for a cup of tea anyway, retrieving it to the sofa where Sawyer has already plonked down. She sits beside him.

An awkward silence falls between them.

Claire snuggles up to him all the same. Sawyer stiffens up a little. "You okay lil mama?" He asks. Claire giggles softly. "I am, thanks." She murmurs. "Good." Sawyer mumbles.

They sit together in silence for a good while.

Sawyer has no idea what to say. So instead he just wraps his arm around her. Claire heaves a happy little sigh. "Thank you." She whispers. "Any time." Sawyer replies, slightly hoarse. He startles when Claire crawls into his lap. He croaks out a sound, but can't manage to say anything.

She is warm and small. She fits against him so perfectly.

On impulse, Swayer cups the back of her head, tilting her head up to him. Claire's eyes flutter shut. The rest of the way is so easy to close. Their lips slot together all too perfectly. Maybe it is the solitude that makes them fit so well. He misses Kate, she misses Charlie. All they have is each other. So they make it fit.

Claire's arms snakes around his neck. Sawyer groans softly when her fingers tangle into his hair. Claire whimpers in response. He puts his free hand on her ass and suddenly she is pressing herself tightly against him. Her tongue teases the seam of his lips. Sawyer groans and opens up for her. He flips her over, so she is on her back on the sofa. He is hovering over her.

They are still kissing, no end in sight.

Claire's hand finds his hip and draws him down. Sawyer groans into her mouth.

She is swift to begin to try and undress him. Sawyer doesn't have the brainpower to try and stop her. He gives in right away, no questions asked. Though he wonders if Charlie fucked her, too. It is a fleeting though, that somehow stings. Does it sting because Charlie, as annoying as he was, should be here now? Or because there is some guilt in the back of his mind? Guilt that he should not be with Claire. But is it guilt towards Charlie, or rather towards Kate? Would Kate be upset if she knew?

Sawyer tries not to think of is.

He pulls Claire's top over her head. She is not wearing a bra. "Oh what the hell." Sawyer growls, more to himself. He leans in to kiss at her breasts. They feel full and hard beneath his lips. Claire moans softly. “Please.” She whispers. He takes a nipple in his mouth. Claire moans loudly and her nipple swells a little. And then Sawyer tastes something sweet and silky on his tongue. Claire’s popped a leak, very literally. 

He breaks away, not sure if he is ... allowed. 

Claire giggles in an understanding way. She has guessed his thoughts.  “It’s okay, I will have plenty left for Aaron.” She murmurs. Sawyer swears softly under his breath. He leans in again to suckle on her breast. "Oh!" Claire moans, arching into him. "Goddamnit Lil' Mama." Sawyer grunts, switching nipple. Claire is gushing like a faucet and damn it tastes good. He finds he cannot get enough. Claire holds him close, tugging lightly at his hair. 

Claire slowly takes off the rest of her clothes. And then she starts to help Sawyer with his. He is still occupied with her breasts, but his hand ventures down her belly. For a brief moment Claire wants to push him away from there. She's not as skinny as she used to be. And she has stretch marks now. She has a mothers body now. 

But Sawyer's hand slips lower, into her trousers. Claire sighs softly, the sound is full of longing. She wants this. She wants him.  “This good?” Sawyer murmurs, parting her folds ever so carefully. “Oh!” Claire cries out. She is so sensitive, so needy. The fact that she hasn’t been touched like this in a long while makes everything all the more intense. “I take that as a yes.” He murmurs.

His finger glides carefully to her clit. Claire thinks she is going nuts! It’s never felt like this before, never this good. She’s never been this needy before. She is already desperate to cum. “Pl-please.” She whines. “Please what?” Sawyer rasps. But Claire can’t manage something inteligible. She can only moan. “Tell me what you want, lil’ mama.” Sawyer rumbles. Claire just whines. She is too needy.  But Sawyner needs the words. 

“Say it.” Sawyer hisses. “Please!” Claire all but yells. “Please what?!?” Sawyer hollers back. “Do it! Fuck me!” The small Australian woman screams at him.  “Oh Lil Mama, you bet I will.” Sawyer growls.  He lines himself up with his free hand, leaning heavily on his knees. Claire squirms beneath him, so impatient. She is pretty when she is impatient. Fuck, she is always pretty. 

Not like Kate, who is wild and fierce and who’s freckles he wishes he knew by heart.  But pretty in her own way. 

Slowly he pushes into her. Claire moans loudly. “Ohoo fuck.” Sawyer groans. She feels so good on his cock. Her inner walls are throbbing and she is delightfully wet. “So fucking good.” He grunts. “Y-yes, yes.” Claire gasps breathlessly. “Gona fuck you good.” Sawyer gruns. “Oh ... please.” Claire whimpers. 

So he does, pounding into her like he hasn’t had a woman in weeks.  And she cums on his cock, driving him absolutely wild. 

He pulls out, just in time. Claire is still gasping from her climax as he spends himself on her belly. “Holy shit.” He hisses.

They are both panting as he leans his forehead against hers. “Thank you.” Claire whispers. “You are very very welcome, lil’ mama.” Sawyer replies.

#LOST #Sawyer x Kate

[eancharles]

11/18/22 - Waining Crescent

I feel I am in a dream; that which breaks at dawn.

When I got home, the Christmas lights were left on for me and Max ran up to me howling. I feel like I am in a déjà vu of my childhood. The candles smell the same and the house still creaks when you cross the hardwood. my bookstall is still stained from the one time I dropped a match on it, the chalkboard undisturbed.

I feel so changed yet static. this is the desk I agonized never going out over; now I've returned only wanting to sit and read, how we don't recognize that what we have until it is gone.

I'm putting up my Polaroids tomorrow, something of a desperate attempt to tether my fractioning life. Childhood bedroom, adult self. I turned 19 in this room, I cried in here when I was 18; when am I an adult?

I feel like marble being chiseled at the edges, shaped into something different. Is it bad to say I miss the patterns? The time elapsed when I did not know it was fleeting.

The Oaks with Alex; I associate then so strongly with the smell of firewood. The same way my vanilla candle reminds me of a year ago, in this very room, that I burned (literally) vanilla incense.

In the past; washing my face in cold water, unplugging the tree, applying for college, and checking behind me when I went up the dark basement stairs--

--only though today; I didn't glance behind

Dreams will yield at dawn, but I'll still weep the passing of a dream, despite a dream being as such.

- A man of immense knowledge 

[wain-fleets]

blood with lyle wainfleet 🥰 WIP

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar twow #avatar 2 #recoms #recom squad #lyle wainfleet #art #wain-fleets #halloween

[pogaytosalad]

A takeover of unreasonable measures. A story i wrote in grade 9.

It was a normal day, just like any other. I stood at my station in sector ⬽:➻. To pronounce it correctly, I’d have to tear out your tongue. But that's beside the point. I was scanning the travelers’ holo-passes as I did every day. I made sure they were fit for entry. If they weren’t, well, they got shoved into a disintegration chamber, which was just a massive and very intense tanning bed meant for giants, and were disintegrated on the spot. It was a simple job. It paid well and had good benefits. No insurance though. I was happy. Now, you see… today was not going to be normal. In any way at all. Because unbeknownst to me there was a fleet of ergon warships headed my way…

Just before my lunch break, I received a distress signal from a human named Wain: 

“Help. If anyone can hear me, there's a fleet of *chrzch* warshi- *chrzch*headed for y- *chrzch*” That's what I remember him saying. There was a lot of interference but it sounded like a warship fleet was headed our way.  I didn't know what kind of madmen would try to invade this place. We were the most heavily protected sector in the galaxy. But it's better to be prepared than to be steamrolled by surprise. So I went to my weapons cache and retrieved my acidic sniper rifle. It was a nice long white gun, with a glowing neon green stripe along each side. The gun had a shape similar to a sideways vase with a handle on the bottom. My rifle, or the “mountain melter” as I called, it was strong enough to create a hole in the side of a warship about the size of the old Mount Everest on Earth, and then continue to break apart the warship through the acidic properties of the bullet. It was the only one of its kind, as they stopped production after somebody destroyed the factory with said rifle. I ran up the stairs in my cramped workspace to my sniper nest and shut down the border. I laid down and set my scope to 300x zoom. I could see a small fleet of warships headed our way. I couldn't take a shot because I couldn't afford to miss and alert them that we knew they were there. At the pace they were moving, they would arrive in exactly 2 hours, 39 minutes and 46 seconds. I had to find the war captain and warn him.  

I beamed down to the planet and approached the captains office doors. They were massive mahogany doors that opened into a gargantuan, cavernous room. I’d only been there once, when I'd been assigned to my station. But there were massive burns and cuts in the wall.- the kind that could only have been caused by a laser beam. And that is where I left off. I opened the doors and there he was. Dead. His limbs severed, his guts hanging out and his face mangled beyond recognition. I only knew it was him because of his uniform. I didn't have enough time to look because at that moment, a laser sword stabbed me through the arm. Any other sword would have caused me to bleed out, but a laser is superheated and instantly cauterizes the wound. I screamed in pain and turned to see none other than [3825968], our best swordsman. The swordsman himself, with his sword still stuck in my arm. He was an interesting character, a robot with human emotions. He didn't have a face but instead, a white sleek plate. He was tall and lanky, but that didn't make him look any less threatening. He was a streamlined type, a lot like the Japanese bullet trains on earth. He conveyed emotion by projecting emoticons onto his blank white face with a hologram projector built inside of him. He had the evil face emoticon projecting on his face. He was completely silent, without even a breath. I punched at his face and it changed from >:) to >:(. I could feel my knuckles shatter against his titanium skeleton structure. But the adrenaline and fear of death kept me going. I pulled out the sword with my other hand and sliced it through his right arm. It fell off in one clean motion and the exposed wires slowly merged. His face turned from >:(  to (ಠ_ಠ) and kicked me across the room. The impact was softened by the war captain’s corpse. I didn't have time to apologize because within a moment I was trying to keep [3825968] from tearing my face off. I managed to reach the captains desk and push a trapdoor button, causing me to fall down, down, down what felt like the longest fall ever, into the courtyard below. [3825968] fell after me and landed on his legs, which were far stronger than mine, and leapt towards me. I rolled away at the last second and kicked off his back panel, exposing his battery. He lunged at me three or four times and on the final lunge,and I managed to kick out his battery and shut him down for good. 

I didn't know what could have made our most loyal swordsman turn against us, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the warship fleet heading our way.  At this point though, I had to worry about healing my wounds and not dying. Once I reached the medical bay I could see that 7 had already been there, but there were also other burns and holes in people. Holes that a sword couldn't have made. I didn't have time to think about it because I was starting to feel sick from the pain. I grabbed some morphine and quickly injected myself with it. Next was my arm wound, but there wasn't much to do about that other than disinfect and bandage it up. My knuckles were nearly shattered after blindly punching [3825968]'s metal face. So I got a hand cast. This cast allowed me to continue moving my fingers, because it was built specifically to keep bones together and allow continued hand use. 

After I finished up in the medical bay, I headed out and found the warden's office. It was locked up tight and I could hear him crying on the other side. I guess [3825968] hadn't gotten to him yet. I knocked on the door and he yelped in surprise. 

“Hey, it's me. I think we might be the only survivors of this attack. You don't know me, and I don't have a name, that you could say at least. I work at the border patrol in sector ⬽:➻”

The warden let me in and quickly closed the door behind us. He told me that the attack was worse than I had thought. The war fleet I had seen was on its way to take over our planet, and had already sent drop pods full of soldiers down to our planet, to soften our defenses before trying to negotiate an agreement. But we weren't going to stand down and let our planet fall to the enemy. It may be a craphole of a planet, but it's our craphole of a planet, dammit. So, the warden and I grabbed our weapons and headed out. I still had [3825968]’s sword but I had also grabbed my incendiary submachine gun, my subzero shotgun and of course, my trusty mountain melter. The submachine gun was of an interesting design, with a sheen black body and flames shooting out the sides. It had a simple shape, like a long pistol. Now the shotgun was of an old fashioned design. It was an almost wooden pattern with sky blue iron sights. The warden just had his massive bronze and green gauntlets and a lack of self preservation, a handy thing to have in this kind of place. So, without any regard for our surroundings, we ran headfirst into battle.

 The warden's gauntlets were massive, around the size of the long extinct great dane dogs of earth. They smashed through the shields of the riot troopers, an enemy dressed in shiny sleek body armor, a lot like the design of [3825968] but they held large riot shields and laser batons. The warden's gauntlets smashed right through and blasted holes through the troopers. I took hold of my incendiary submachine gun and blasted away a small group of gunners, melting them on the spot. In my other hand I held my shotgun, which instantly froze the enemy in a block of ice upon being shot. So I took [3825968]'s sword and sliced the frozen figure into an ice sculpture of the headless horseless horseman, which means I just sliced off his head. Another drop-pod flew in, immediately crushing the warden. I shot it with my mountain melter and killed everyone inside. I didn't have time to mourn the warden because at that exact moment, a riot troop had their baton around my neck. It was red hot and I could feel the skin on my neck burning and peeling off. I managed to take hold of [3825968]'s sword and sliced through the troops waist. I took the shotgun, which was cold to the touch and pushed it against my neck to sooth the burns. I accidentally shot it off releasing an even bigger blast of cold onto my neck, and killed a random trooper nearby. My neck was freezing but it felt good on the burns. I was surrounded by riot troopers and a heavy gunner. The heavy had a massive suit of medieval looking battle armor, but it was new and mechanical, with a sleek design similar to that of [3825968]’s chassis. There was a generator on its back, probably it's only weakness. I didn't have a very clear shot, and my shotgun was out of ammo. The submachine gun was a terrible shot for accuracy, and I had to conserve ammo in my mountain melted, which I was going to need for my escape. I threw [3825968]'s sword at the heavy, it sliced right through the generator and blew up the heavy as well as at least 10 other troopers nearby. I shot the mountain melter down onto the ground and it melted instantly, causing me and every trooper in the city to plunge down into a cave system.

 I survived by blasting the ground below with my submachine gun until it was melted slightly, enough that it would be soft. It would have burned me to a crisp on contact had I not landed with my braced hand. The brace was nearly indestructible and not even my mountain melter could break it. I landed softly and pushed myself off and out onto the cold dark cavern floor. I was sure the fight above had broken my tailbone. And the fall couldn't have helped at all. I stood, and I could feel the sharp pain of the bones piercing my rear. I had sent the entire city down into these caverns. I knew the medical bays wreckage couldn't be too far. I took ammo from every trooper I could find, and soon had enough to survive another fight. Every step caused agony in my rear end. I eventually found the wreckage of the medical bay, and put on an ass-cast(™). It set the bones in my tailbone back into position and would prevent any bullets from going up “main street.” It felt comfortable enough, and I could still maneuver well. I began my climb up onto the planet’s surface. Hopefully I can find a beaming station to teleport to a more civilized location on the planet, hopefully still untouched by the ergon corporation. Once I finished my climb I realized just how much I had damaged the city. It was gone. All of it. Every single building, every single person or creature had fallen and died in the pit. I had no hope of finding a beaming station. Unless one of the stray drop pods had one inside. 

I headed for the closest drop pod I could see, maybe five clicks away. I kept my submachine gun out, just in case I ran into a stray trooper who had somehow escaped. It was an almost desert landscape, cracked ground and nothing to be seen other than the drop pod in the distance. I had a feeling I was going to find a trooper still in there, so I kept my gun pointing forward, safety off. I finally got there and carefully opened the door,only to find a small creature, one I called a frost hound. It was nearly pure white, and had glowing blue eyes that almost appeared to be aflame. It had light blue, jagged claws and light blue razor sharp teeth. It immediately jumped and snatched my gun out of my hand, crushing it instantly,like a kid crushing a can under his foot. All I had was my mountain melter and my shotgun, both of which would be useless. It was near impossible to get a hit with the melter, and any miss would cause my death. The shotgun was useless to me in this, because this hound could resist any form of cold, even in the form of a bullet. So I tossed my guns aside and punched the beast with my casted hand, shattering several of its teeth. It got angry at me and leapt, gripping the cast in its jaws and trying to tear off my arm. I kicked it in the stomach but the beast wasn't fazed. So I bit back, it was cold as hell-vÍti, the old norse underworld. This time the beast receded, so I bashed its face with my cast again and again, until it had a mouth of all gums. The beast wouldn't give up, and this time started swiping at me with it claws. If those made contact I was its next meal. I bashed each individual paw as they came at me, and eventually the beast had nothing else to hurt me with. So I simply lifted it off the ground, and threw it as far away as I could. I stepped into the pod, and accidentally pushed the wrong button, teleporting me directly onto the ergon mothership. 

I was in a hallway of sorts,  it was a long, bright, white hallway with neon orange stripes on the walls. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and started to panic, because all I had was the mountain melter and my submachine gun, both of which could highly damage the interior of the ship and I did not want to die on this ship. I was going to have to be sneaky. I went into prone and took aim with the sniper, set it to a five-times zoom and waited for the trooper to turn the corner. The trooper never turned the corner. Instead they grabbed me from behind and confiscated my weapons. They had snuck up behind me after getting the beaming aboard alert. They dragged me by the shirt collar and tied me to a table. I knew they were going to interrogate me, likely with extreme measures. They wanted easy access to the planet, but dammit I wasn't going to give it to them. I still had my hand cast on, even though it was slightly dented from the frost hound attack. I slipped it off with a jerk of my hand and threw it at the gun cabinet, it exploded and killed the troopers, setting off the alarms.

 My knuckles seemed to have healed enough to move my fingers without too much pain. I quickly ripped my arms through the ropes and grabbed my mountain melter, which had luckily survived the explosion. I knew what had to be done, and it broke my heart to know what I had to do. I took as much fabric and extra random trash I could find and shoved it down the rifle barrel until it was clogged. It would fire once more and explode releasing all its possible energy. It would destroy the ship, and every other ship nearby. Running to the pod bay, I took an elastic and put it over the trigger, I had about 20 seconds until the trigger was pulled so I threw the gun away from me and jumped into a pod, teleporting myself back to the planet. I looked up to where the ships were and saw a huge explosion of green. Tears began to stream from my face, my one possession. The only thing I owned. I had sacrificed everything I had to save the planet. My job was done. There were others far more fit to do my job. So, as you are listening to this story on this tape, I am dead. Dead inside not actually dead damnit. I plan to apply for a job at the dmv. One of the most mind numbing jobs in the universe.

[joshstambourine]

Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet roleplay #gvf fanfiction #gvf magical #gvf imagine #lover leaver

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Today in Tolkien - March 9th

Gandalf and Pippin reach Minas Tirith at dawn, probably near 6am. Practically all the events of the chapter “Minas Tirith” happen on this day, so this and “The Passing of the Grey Company” are out of chronological order. Since most of the first section of The Return of the King centres on the defence of Minas Tirith, it makes sense that Tolkien wanted to start out the book by introducing us to the city and to its danger, so readers would understand why Aragorn considered matters desperate enough to take the Paths of the Dead.

There’s already an indication, early on, of Denethor’s use of the palantír.

Gandalf: For I have not ridden hither from Isengard, one hundred and fifty leagues [450 miles], with the speed of wind, only to bring you one small warrior, however courteous. Is it naught to ypu that Théoden has fought a great battle,and that Isengard is overthrown, and that I have broken the staff of Saruman?

Denethor: It is much to me. But I already know sufficient of these deeds for my own counsel against the menace of the East.

He turned his dark eyes on Gandalf, and now Pippin saw a likeness between the two, and he felt the strain between them, almost as if he saw a line of smouldering fire, drawn from eye to eye, that might suddenly burst into flame.

... [Pippin’s musing broke off, and he saw that Denethor and Gandalf still looked each other in the eye, as if reading the other’s mind. But it was Denethor who first withdrew his gaze.

“Yea,” he said, “for though the Stones be lost, they say, still the Lords of Gondor have keener sight than lesser men, and many messages come to them.”

There’s no way for anyone to have reached Minas Tirith faster from Isengard with news than Gandalf has on Shadowfax. Denethor asserts that the palantíri are lost to throw Gandalf off, but it’s hard to see what other information source Gandalf could expect. But Gandalf says of Denethor that he has some of the abilities of the old Númenoreans: “He has long sight. He can perceive, if he bends his will thither, much of what is passing in the minds of men, even of those that dwell far off. It is difficult to deceive him, and dangerous to try.”

Gandalf also says that Faramir is similar in this regard, and we can see some of that in Faramir’s earlier interrogation of Gollum: “There are locked door and closed windiws in your mind, and dark rooms behind them. And later, to Frodo: Malice eats it like a canker, and the evil is growing. He will lead you to no good. And: He has done murder before. I read it in him. (And the murder of Déagol is something that even Gandalf had a hard time getting out of Gollum.) There’s something rather Elvish about this limited quasi-telepathy of the descendents of the Númenoreans, reminiscent of Galadriel’s testing of the Company in Lothlórien.

At any rate, Pippin meets Beregond at 9am for orientation. They get some breakfast and eat and talk on the walls. Pippin sees wains going south, evacuating the last of the civilians from the city to South Gondor. He also sees, from Mordor, a darkness rising: the gloom was growing and gathering, very slowly, slowly rising to smother the regions of the sun. This is the darkness that will indeed block out the sun by the next morning. Beregond tells Pippin of the fleet of the Corsairs of Umbar. And Beregond is wiser in his way than the Lord of the City: “This is a great war long-planned, and we are but one piece in it, whatever pride may say. Things move in the far East beyond the Inland Sea, it is reported; and north in Mirkwood and beyond; and south in Harad.”

They talk until noon, then go to lunch and meet the men of Beregond’s company, and then Beregond suggest that Pippin (who has no further duties) go meet Beregond’s son Bergil, who can show him around the city. They watch Gondor’s reinforcements ride in in the late afternoon and evening: 200 from Lossarnach; 300 from Ringló Vale, 500 bowmen from Blackroot Vale, various untrained men from the Anfalas by the sea, a few from Lamedon, 100 from Ethir (the mouths of Anduin), 300 from Pinnath Gelin (north of the Anfalas) and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth with a company of knights plus 700 infantry. Less than 3000 total, and much less than hoped; many regions are holding back forces to defend against the Umbar fleet. Most of them are from land through which Aragorn and the Dead will ride.

And Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the Dúnedain are already in those lands of South Gondor. Today at dawn they set out, followed by the Dead, from the Stone of Erech, and reach the crossing of the River Ciril by sunset. They are passing through the aforementioned regions of Morthond Vale and Lamedon, and are almost at the Ringló Vale; Pinnath Gelin and the Anfalas are well to their east, Dol Amroth is south of them (it’s on the seacoast and a clear target for the corsairs, so it says a lot that Imrahil came to Minas Tirith personally).

Théoden, the Rohirrim, and Merry arrive in Dunharrow at sunset. Now we learn that when Gandalf and Pippin were at Edoras three days ago, Gandalf brought word from Théoden ordering the muster of Rohan. This is invaluable - it means that instead of starting to gather their forces now, which would bring them to Minas Tirith far too late, they are already ready to ride out. In the evening Hirgon, errand-rider of Gondor, arrives with the Red Arrow, calling for urgent reinforcements from Rohan. The news of a massive assault from Mordor actually causes Théoden to send less than he otherwise would have - six thousand rather than ten thousand - keeping some back for defence of Rohan’s strongholds. He estimates reaching Minas Tirith a week after the morning of the 10th; he actually make it in five days, by the morning of the 15th.

Frodo, Sam and Gollum walk through the day, and still the land is silent and waiting and free of the scouts of Mordor. The lands are still pleasant ones, open woodland with large trees (holly [I had to look up what ‘ilex’ meant, and it means holly], ash, and oak) and hyacinth and anemone flowers growing among the grass. At sunset they reach the road between Minas Morgul and Osgiliath.

On the same day, Faramir leaves Henneth Annûn, and spends the night at Cair Andros, as the fastest way back to Minas Tirith; most of the rest of his forces he sends back to Osgiliath to reinforce it.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #today in tolkien #gandalf #pippin took #denethor #aragorn #theoden #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #gollum #faramir

[copiesofme-archive]

hymn to the sea

        She had been a ghost long before she had met her end, long before the bullet had bitten into flesh and festered into muscle and bone. Her soul had been taken away with behind the brick and bar of a prison, her soul was taken and buried with that of James Kidd, and that of the boy that would have been hers. That always was hers, for she had carried them both still until the toil of her last breath. She had been a shell of what she was before, the fearsome captain of the Anne’s Revenge.

        The one that had saved her all those years before, Dolores had been only a girl then. New to the waves of the sea, newer still to any sort of living amongst the sail. She’d never held a sword before that time, nor a pistol, but once she had seen the promise of freedom earned through a working hand. She couldn’t imagine any other life for herself, couldn’t imagine herself falling back to the politer role that awaited her back in the walls of their home. And thus it was through the looking glass of liberty that she had been given sight that the walls served as bars. And so Anne had taken her under her wing, and Dolores had to work her way from scrubbing the barnacles off the side of the ship, to swabbing the deck, to the infamous boatswain that she was renowned for.

        Aye, it had been the pirates life for her. it was how she found herself captain of this very vessel, and before long accepting Anne back into the ranks that she had gifted her. Only this time she was different, somber, a ghost- a pale flame in place a once blazing inferno. No, there was no longer a fierce demon behind the pistol - no there was only raging madness with a knife with no thought nor remorse on killing anything adorned in the sight of red. Who was Dolores to ever deny such a righteous anger? Anne had been robbed of everything, her livelihood, her dignity, her love, and her child. It had been one of the hardest things that Dolores had to do to punish her for, but it was such the way of the code that that needed be enforced.

         Anne had gone into the fray more than once with a fierce-some yell, some would say even suicidal in the rage that she held in such precision. But it was only Dolores who knew that such a gesture was truer than the men would ever know. Anne had wished for death, just as she had wished to see her family again, and it would be a while until she got that wish. But by God, she had gotten her wish.

          She hadn’t told any of them that she had been hurt, stubborn git that she was. It had been a shot to her gut that did the infamous Anne Bonny in. And would have likely continued on if given the chance, if a clumsy step hadn’t prompted Dolores to order her to let the ships surgeon take a look at her. Nevertheless, it had been too late, too bloodied and festered with the metal burrowed into her flesh, and even as he pulled it from her the solemn expression on his face spoke volumes. Dolores had noticed immediately that paling skin was already ghostly white. The fever that she had passed off for so long, never broke. And Dolores immediately pushed for the search of her daughter to go faster, to go harder to return. The Captain had hoped to inspire enough will in her to push on, for such a declining state was a clear testament to the lack of will. But when the crewman had followed in with the wee girl, when Ekganit transferred the wain from his arm to hers, it was too late. Anne had found peace, and tears, and a promise that she would be alright in Dolores’s care, and with the confirmation- her eyes fell dim.

          Her body was here, her soul was departed, but Anne Bonny had died long ago.

         Now there is only silence to fill the air. The cry of seagulls airing in the distance as the tide dances against the hull of the ship. Here the Captain kneels as she looks over her pale features that would soon be entirely cocooned in her hammock and taken to sea. Listening as the surgeon prepped and positioned her to fit just right inside of the cloth that served as her coffin. Dolores’s jaw presses, teeth creaking as the weight settles at the bottom of her stomach. Like a brick that pulled her heart down and twisted her insides up into her throat. Her nostrils flair with the burn at her eyes, knowing that she was finally at peace. It was looking to her now that Dolores realizes that she’s never seen her look so content; that even in death Anne could look like she was merely caught too deep in a peaceful slumber.  From a Captain, to a Captain, she knew that in some form, by God, Anne was now at peace.

        She watches now as the Doctor begins to push the needle through the thick fabric, sealing it tighter and tighter over her body as the stitch rose up to cover her chest. And through it Dolores realized she could hear the beat of the black flag above their heads, the breath of the men around them, and the sea beneath their feet. The world had felt so surreal, so distant, as they were closer to putting a dear friend into her grave. And so Dolores reaches forward as an intent eye had overseen the progress of Anne’s burial. A hand held over the surgeon’s in a beckon to prompt him to stop before he had gotten to her neck, to stop before the finality of it was done.

        No. She had beckoned in a single look, in a single meet of his eye. No. She closes her hand over his, and he nods with an understanding, because it is a friend who should finish the task. It was a friend who should truly put a friend to rest, it was her after all that had shown Dolores how to live. It would only be fitting that she would help her in her path toward a proper burial in death. Anne had loved with everything in her soul, and had suffered for it - but something told her that if she could. Anne wouldn’t change a thing about it, she’d still choose the life of a pirate. She’d still choose James. She’d still choose her son. Only at the exception that they’d live instead of herself, right?

       “Isn’t that Right, Anne?” Dolores couldn’t help but to mutter, answering herself as she brought a forearm down to brace against the fabric so she could hook into it and tug it further closed, flinching as the sharpness of the needle jabbed the part of her skin that should have held an arm. She grunts and then pushes the metal into the next, this time near Anne’s chin, and uses her own mouth to pull it tighter. She straightens a little then, unable to look away from her face so perfectly encompassed by the havoc, she sniffs and then releases the hook with the cup of her palms on the sides of her face. “Oh Anne-” Her voice is soft, leaning her head down to touch her forehead against hers in the same reassuring way that Anne had done once for herself- once. She was cold to the touch, cold beneath her palms, and Dolores inhaled sharply with the feel of a single tear that broke past the facade. Eyes closing with the the turn of her head before she lifts her chin and press a long kiss into her hair.

        “We will see each other again, on that invisible line where the sea meets the sky.” She dips her head, as if to share a secret near her ear. “It is there, I will see you again, and you will have lived and loved with the family you were always meant to have. Be at peace, God knows that you have earned nothing but the best of heaven.” And then she sits up, pushing the hook through the fabric just over her mouth, and then align each piece of fabric along her nose. It is there she inhales as she relaxes the layers over each other and there is a fleeting moment in her chest where she hopes that in some way or by some miracle Anne will cry out. That as she completes the final stitch, as she pushes metal through nostril and cartilage that her friend would jerk awake screaming to get her out of this bloody hammock and call them all daft idiots for believing anything could kill her.

           But there was only the sickening tear of metal through skin, and the jam of needle past flesh, that had Dolores’s heart sinking back into her stomach. Lips press as her features almost scrunch, and for a moment she fears that the facade might break as another tear slips onto her face. Many had died under hand, many have fallen to the wrath and rage of Wyatt, under her order as Captain, but nothing had sickened her than feeling the cut of needle through bone. And in her ear, she hears her. Hears Anne telling her; ‘don’t you do it.’ looking at her with those blazing mismatched eyes, ‘don’t you dare apologize.’, and Dolores’s eyes close briefly as she pulls another stitch closed, and another. Her focus as clear as ever as she closes Anne inside, and she sets her palms along her thighs with one last inhale. One last attempt to pull her reserve into place with the burn of her eyes, and the insistent tears that pushed onto her cheeks. Staring at the body of a dear, dear friend.

         “Captain.” 

        The word breaks her of the trance, and she straightens with the sniff and scratch of her cheek. “Right. Thank you, Doctor.” She sniffs again and stands. Straightening with the cradle of her hat in her hands as the last rights begin to be said over her body, followed soon by the ring of a bell, the singing of bagpipes as they raised her up onto the wooden plank. No words left as they held onto the bottom, and raised one side up in unison and twas, the slide of her into the sea. Almost sickeningly simple how it was, how quick a body wrapped in hammock could slip from view - that Dolores felt her guts churn with the sound of the body splashing beneath them.

       And yet, as she sank beneath the tide, as the Captain turn to accept the fussing wain into her arms entrusted to her care, cooing that she was okay. Dolores could only hear the singing and dancing of a memory an almost age ago. Where Anne had laughed, and James had laughed, as their arms linked and they spun, with only shanties to accompany them. There. she imagined her. Only this time the memory was different with the child that would run up between them. Where Anne might kneel over to take him into her arms and kiss his head, and turn to kiss her beloved man. There, she was happy. 

          There Anne Bonny is home. 

a 18th Century Drabble, from Dolores to Anne - for @onlyliberty​​

#onlyliberty #oh they plundered and murdered and raided the seas [ historical 001 / 18th century / dolores abernathy ] #drabble #(IM IN RUIN- MY BRAIN HURTS MY EYES ARE TEARING AND RED AND IM- ) #(HEARTBROKE) #(HI MY LOVE HERE IS A GIFT FOR YOU- I HOPE ITS GOOD) #long post for ts

[my-name-is-dahlia]

Vocabulary (pt.dcclxxvi)

Words taken from The Arts: A Visual Encyclopedia by DK:

emperor (n.) the male sovereign of an empire.

French Revolution the overthrow of the Bourbon monarchy in France (1789–1799), uniting various groups in French society against the feudal structure of the state, with its privileged Establishment and discredited monarchy. It began with the meeting of the legislative assembly (the Estates General) in May 1789, when the French government was already in crisis; the Bastille was stormed in July of the same year. As the Revolution became steadily more radical and ruthless, figures such as Danton were eclipsed, and the Jacobins and Robespierre dominated: Louis XVI’s execution in January 1793 was followed by Robespierre’s Reign of Terror (September 1793 to July 1794). The Revolution failed to produce a stable form of republican government, and after several different forms of administration, the last, the Directory, was overthrown by Napoleon in 1799.

imbue (v.) inspire or permeate (with feelings, opinions, or qualities).

vesper (n.) the office of the sixth canonical hour of prayer, originally said toward evening.

wain (n.) archaic. a wagon.

luminism (n.) an American landscape painting style of the 1850s to 1870s, characterized by effects of light in landscape, through the use of aerial perspective and the concealment of visible brushstrokes. Luminist landscapes emphasize tranquility, and often depict calm, reflective water and a soft, hazy sky.

Battle of Trafalgar (21 October 1805) a naval engagement fought by the British Royal Navy against the combined fleets of the French and Spanish navies during the War of the Third Coalition (August–December 1805) of the Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815).

sumi ink (n.) ink made mainly from soot of burnt lamp oil or pinewood, animal glue, and perfume. 

en plein air (adj.) of or relating to painting in outdoor daylight.

barge (n.) a long flat-bottomed boat for carrying freight etc.

#av #avdictionary #english vocabulary #the arts

[the-blackest-spider]

SEND “< O >” FOR MY CHARACTER’S REACTION TO WAKING UP AND FINDING YOUR MUSE WATCHING THEM SLEEP.  | Accepting

@hiislegacy​ left a message:  < O >  [Sephiroth]

Sleep is fleeting and rare for the petite red haired Turk, she tends to push herself until her body and mind make it impossible to do anything else but sleep and even caffeine does not keep her eyes from feeling heavy and her focus to wain. The unfortunate part of it, she’s in her office, at her desk when she succumbs to her natural needs in that way. But even though she’s basically exhausted, her awareness is not necessarily hampered, but the Shinra Building is quiet, most everyone gone for the day only a few employees lingering finishing work or visiting in some of the more communal areas of the building. How long she’s been asleep she doesn’t know, but a feeling, a particular sensation works up her spine, ringing alarm bells in her head.

She moves.

It’s sudden and quick, decisive. She’s up, gun in her hand and pointing at the tall silver haired man, the end of her weapon inches from his chest, her eyes move up from that point to meet his. Green to green. Her index finger is taunt against the trigger and she wonders if she’s fast enough or if it would do anything to him in the first place.

“Stalker.” And though her pulse is racing, her heart hammering wild in her chest, her voice is calm.

#widow responses #hiislegacy: sephiroth #ffviiverse #// that's a good way to get shot dude XD