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kyros-tha-soldier · 4 months

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💥 ONE PIECE 1012 SPOILERS 💥

Fresh page of 1012's OFFICIAL release under the cut by the legendary Pewpiece (don't click if you don't wanna be spoiled)

This is the official release, and no i don't think it's the official translation tho:

We have an explanation for how was Dragon going to go help Luffy escape from loguetown, notice how he said nothing about Luffy because:

1- he's not supposed to let even his subordinates and comrades know about their relationship

2- let's say he even mentioned it to sabo, Sabo wouldn't understand since by then he had amnesia and didn't remember until after a while (after the marineford and Ace's death)

also, there's a very nice detail about Smoker: Loguetown is basically his own turf because as we saw in the gol d roger execution flashback, Smoker has been there, therefore he used to mainly work in Loguetown and nearby islands and places, yet he still followed the strawhats through reverse mountain and even into the grandline by himself instead of waiting for another marine to do that ESPECIALLY after Luffy got away from him in loguetown, he just wants to get that rubbery bot so bad in jail!

Ace is a cute brother, taking pride in his lil bro's shenanigans and flexing the fact that his brother is strong... Jinbe is more angry that Luffy beat Arlong out of all people especially when you remember their relationship

Remembering what happened in thriller bark, this panel of Kuma looks somewhat creepy since he has been following luffy up close for so damn long, but once you follow the context of his flashback, his beliefs, his relationship with dragon and the world government, it starts to make sense, however the way Kuma handled the strawhats in sabaody, the eerie and scary way he just made them disappear, making them think they had died also somewhat makes a bit of sense because by that time he was 97% modified by then, and what little humanity left in him was spent on protecting the sunny and helping the strawhats even in a way that felt inhumane and cruel to them

Bonney is now sailing with her friends and fellas, she seems to be getting into the whole piracy stuff by pillaging, looting and just overall causing trouble. However we should note that according to pewpiece, the translation here is wrong, she didn't say "steal em all", she actually said to not steal from the broke. Maybe this is how she became very notorious that easy!

gyogyo being such a sassy guy telling her "yaaaas qween you slay", we stan a guy who recognizes his queen uh huh!

apparently bonney might be trying to disguise herself by changing her looks since she mentioned that her father may not recognize her, but maybe that's because of the piercing. Don't worry bon bon, he WILL recognize you!

Overall that's it for the recent page reveal, i guess the next chapter will be released on 25th december, keep your eyes peeled off for any new spoilers i might drop

#One piece chapter 1012 spoiler #One piece spoiler 1012 #One piece chapter 1012 #Chapter 1012 #Spoilers #Spoiler alert #One piece #Bartholomew Kuma #Jewelry Bonney #portugas d ace #jinbe #Jinbei #Sabo #Smoker #White hunter smoker

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fallensnowfan · 1 year

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Jinbei and Kiku have no chill sometimes

Elements from Jinbei’s falling out with Arlong very much feel like they were echoed during the conflicts the Akazaya had with Kanjuro, and that the Whitebeard Pirates had with Blackbeard.

#one piece #jinbei #okiku #izo #portgas d ace #chapter 528 #chapter 1012 #the waves of wano

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chenziee · 2 years

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There can only be one Pirate King

@lawluevents 10 Days of Lawlu 2022 Day 9: Pirate King & Emperor

Alternate summary: "Idc you're an Emperor, that's my BOYFRIEND fighting your ex up there so fuck you"

Minor spoilers for chapters 1010 - 1015

[ READ ON AO3 | FULL SERIES | KO-FI ]

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As soon as the five from the Worst Generation had made it up to the roof of Onigashima’s Skull Dome, Law knew there was going to be a need for rearrangements. There was no way they could make it work with both Kaido and Big Mom as their opponents at the same time. They needed to separate them—leave Kaido to Luffy and then do something about Big Mom and Kaido’s men; the only issue was how.

How convenient Kaido chose the roof of all places to do this.

Of course they weren’t lucky enough to get Big Mom to fall into the sea but really, anything worked as long as it was elsewhere.

Grabbing onto Zoro’s lifeless, battered body, Law created a room. He glanced up, taking in Kaido’s body lying on the ground before his eyes turned to Straw Hat. He was standing tall, glaring down at Kaido as if he didn’t just get up from being knocked unconscious himself. There was power radiating off him, the air thrumming with his haki.

The contrast to his usual goofy demeanour would never stop surprising Law but… it was one of the reasons everyone came to believe in him. Looking at his back, seemingly both incredibly far away, and right next to him—a comforting presence, always close, always warm—he knew Luffy would win.

And so, Law finally tore his eyes away from him. “I’m leaving you here alone and taking everything else, Straw Hat-ya!”

I trust you. Don’t you dare die.

Straw Hat replied immediately, voice calm, “Sure.”

Same to you.

Law huffed. Luffy didn’t speak out loud, yet he could hear his words clearly anyway. He was sure Luffy could hear him as well.

Taking a deep breath, Law closed his eyes momentarily. This was it.

“Shambles.”

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Finding Big Mom downstairs was, unsurprisingly, easy. Even without her loud voice, following the greatest, most destructive tremors was almost laughably simple.

He ignored Kaido’s premature announcements of his victory—he knew just as well as the Straw Hats that there was no way Luffy would give up just because he got thrown off the battlefield—and instead approached the other Emperor. He wasn’t surprised to find Eustass already there, itching for a fight, but that was just as well.

It was certainly easier to take care of this monster with two people.

“All of you have so much blind trust in Straw Hat!” Big Mom laughed. Her voice was grating on Law’s ears, making him want to silence her. “But he’s dead now! What is the point of fighting?!”

Law felt a smirk pulling on his lips. Ah, how naive and assured of their own power the Emperors were. It was high time someone dragged them off their comfortable little perch. He was going to really enjoy the despair once they realised their time was over.

“As if I care about Straw Hat. This works great for me, I’ll just get to take you both down myself,” Eustass scoffed.

“We don’t have to explain anything to you,” Law noted, completely ignoring Eustass, before he slowly drew Kikoku and pointed its long blade at Big Mom. “But let me tell you one thing. You think you’re going to be the Pirate King? That’s hilarious.”

“What did you just say, you brat?” Big Mom growled, the sun behind her descending upon her and engulfing her hair in fire.

Law’s smirk only widened at her anger. Oh, he was going to make it so much worse. “There can only be one Pirate King—and that’s Luffy-ya.”

A beat of silence passed before—

“Hey, Trafalgar! I don’t care how disgustingly lovesick you are, I’m going to get the One Piece!” Eustass snapped as he turned to Law, teeth bared.

“Trafalgar… You have guts saying that to my face,” Big Mom laughed—a sound that was cold and completely lacking any sign of amusement.

How satisfying making people rage over a few simple words was. Law would never get tired of it. But maybe making Big Mom even angrier right now wouldn’t be the wisest. They should just get back to business.

“Eustass-ya, take it up with Luffy-ya later if you don’t want me taking care of her myself,” Law noted with a raised eyebrow. “Room.”

“Fuck the both of you,” Eustass growled back but turned away to face the actual enemy anyway.

Law wasn’t sure if he meant him and Big Mom or him and Straw Hat but… it didn’t really matter. He huffed in amusement for the last time before he turned his focus back to the matter at hand. He needed to get rid of this monster before she would decide to mess with Luffy’s fight upstairs. After all, it was only a matter of time before the rubber ball bounced right back. And Law needed to do his part in helping him up—

Up, until he reached the very top.

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ervotica · 3 months

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Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.

Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing; cassian x fem!reader

warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch

word count; 2.4k

a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!

Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.

You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.

You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.

Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.

You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.

"You knew?"

"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."

"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.

His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.

"You feel the same, then?" he teases.

Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.

"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.

"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."

He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.

Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?

"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."

"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."

A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.

"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.

"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."

Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.

"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."

You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.

"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Shut up!"

His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.

"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.

He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."

Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.

"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.

The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.

Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.

You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.

"Cassian."

"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."

The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.

"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."

You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.

"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”

You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.

"Now that’s just mean, baby."

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.

He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.

"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.

"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"

Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.

Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.

You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.

"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."

"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."

You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.

"We have something else to do first."

"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.

"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"

"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.

"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."

He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."

"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."

His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.

"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.

"I thought you liked me naked!"

"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."

"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"

"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.

"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

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Pieces Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel realizing he has a compilation.

A/N: yall! I've decided! I'm a tiny bit bored of this story. Ok not tiny, a lot bored of this story. I've realized that writing a full series is not for me. I'm much better writing off drabbles or oneshots. I will complete this story though. I don't know when but I will. Then after that I will Never start another series.

Pieces Masterlist

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Yesterday I had went to talk azriel and got out of there after discussing the matter. This morning, I had found a note beside the fireplace, a question, written in Azriel's handwriting, asking to take me on a date today. I was hesitant at first but ultimately said yes. I mean, I did say I'd give him a chance so.

I wore a simple shirt and pants today since I didn't know where we were going, he said he'll be at my library by evening to take me out for dinner. I'm nervous waiting for him as if I'm going to mess up. Working helps in reducing the stress.

I'm on tge counter duty today and as I'm checking out customers with thier books, I see that handsome male again. The one that helped me with my books a few days ago. He's coming up to me with a book in his hands. He smirks when he sees me.

"The girl that drops books?" He points at me and laughs. I jaw drops. "That was one time!" I try to defend myself as if what he thinks matters so much to me. He let's out a laugh and stands in front of me.

He gives me his book and asks me to bill it. When I asked his name, "Sebastian." He answers. It fits him I guess. 'Sebastian' sounds mistrivious. "What's your name?" He leans on the counter table, waiting. "Y/N. Nice. Pretty name for a pretty face." He reads my name tag and comments. I can't stop the blooding ruching to my cheeks. Before i can respond, I feel eyes on me and snap my head towards the direction.

My eyes match with hazal. Standing near the door is Azriel with a bouquet in his hands, that he is gripping very tightly. Wearing a casual shirt and pants and hair tousled from the wind. But that's not what causes a hitch in my breath.

No. It's the deadly, cold look he has in his eyes. The dangerous Spymaster's eyes. Only meant for his greatest enemies because everyone runs off to the other direction just from the expression alone.

I clear my throat and check Sebastian's purchase out. Muttering a good day wish and quicky leave the counter to find Layla. I tell her that I'm taking my leave now and gather my things. I walk to Azriel to see that he's still glaring at Sebastian.

"Hey. Cut it out." I frown and he finally looks at me, apologising under his breath and smiles. "You look beautiful." He gives me the flowers. I mumble a thanks and take out the flowers to put them in a vase near the chairs in sitting area. Many customers come in and read here. Happy to have a sitting area in a book store.

"Let's go then." I say to him and he nods, holding the door open for me to walk out before him. I have to admit, it's nice seeing him care again. Doing the small things he did before that I loved.

I sigh, anticipating how this 'date' will go.

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Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten @pricklepearbloom @bxm-1012 @peachcontour-blog @fxckmiup @ohthemisssery @crazylokonugget @anuttellaa

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel angst

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sotwk · 1 year

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A Stab to the Heart - Part One (Thranduil, OC Wife + Sons fic)

Summary: The Elvenqueen is caught in the first orc attack to occur in the Woodland Realm in centuries. King Thranduil gathers his sons to discuss the incident and what they intend to do about this unexpected new threat.

Word count: 1.7k

Content: Angst, brief/mild mentions of violence, family relationships and drama, angry Thranduil

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

Dedication: For @ethuil-flower, in response to her request for a Drama/Angst Thranduil fic, with some action thrown in featuring the Elvenqueen. I ended up including the princes heavily in this, and the idea just grew so much that it requires a Part Two. I hope it fulfills what you wanted! :)

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

A Stab to the Heart - Part One

Third Age 1012 January

Bâr Lasgalen, Home of the Elvenking

The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great

It was the ugliest piece of weaponry Mirion had seen in a long time, perhaps in all his years. He could not stop staring at it: a crude dagger with dull edges and a misshapen point, its thick hilt wrapped in cords of fraying rope. The offensive sight of blood had been washed from the blade, but he could still smell it, taste the iron on his tongue. Each one of them could, as much as they were all trying to ignore it as they lingered about the round table where the knife rested at the very center, like a criminal on trial.

As soon as they received the King's summons, each one of the princes had dropped everything to make haste for the Greenwood capital. Legolas had the misfortune of being all the way in Lorinand, attending one of King Amroth’s winter festivals, and so he had the greatest distance to travel. Mirion knew his brother’s desire to ride hard would surpass the strength of his horse, so he sent out guards to meet him at the Ningloron with a fresh mount. For all these efforts, the youngest prince still arrived hours after the rest of his brothers, and already a full day after the incident had occurred.

There had been muttered greetings when Legolas finally entered the council chambers, still in his soaked travel cloak and boots. The King merely raised his eyebrows and said in a tone sharper than the biting winds outside, “Once Arvellas returns, we shall begin.”

All five gazes darted to the door before Arvellas even walked through. Calm as ever, the prince shut the door behind him and said quietly, “She has eaten and gone back to sleep.” His keen, gray-blue eyes went specifically to the King. “The wound shall heal without a mark, your Grace. I guarantee it.”

No physical mark, anyhow. Turhir’s grim voice nudged its way into Mirion’s thoughts. The eldest son gave a stern shake of his head, and sensed his brother shrug in response.

The King rose from his seat by the hearth and approached the round table. With two long fingers, he plucked the filthy dagger off the solid oak surface. “Map,” he ordered.

The five brothers joined their father around the unfurled scroll, an enormous and highly detailed charting of their vast forest territory.

"Where exactly did it happen?" asked Legolas.

"Here.” Mirion tapped on an unmarked spot by the western edge of the Narrows. "Roughly twenty miles north of the old fort."

"I passed through that area around the start of harvest.” Legolas frowned as he searched his memory. “I do not recall seeing any settlements in the vicinity."

“They arrived and built their shelters just before the first snows began,” Mirion moved his forefinger to trace a line across the map. “Their faction splintered off one of the Woodmen communities east of the Bight, over some disagreement or the other. A small group, no more than a hundred Edain.”

"It was our boar hunters who chanced upon them about a month ago,” Gelir continued. “They thought it wise to refrain from engaging until the matter was brought to the crown. They reported all that they saw to me, in good detail, which I then relayed to Ada and Ammë…" He glanced over at his father and faltered. But throughout the princes’ exchange, the King persisted in his cold silence, fixated solely on the blade resting on the open palm of his hand.

"The Queen wished to initiate first contact herself,” Arvellas finally said. “Scouts were sent beforehand of course, but the moment they determined it was safe, she immediately set out with supply wagons." The taut lines on his face softened momentarily. "She learned they were short on food for winter. They were already going hungry."

"What of her escort?" Legolas asked, before the answer to his own question dawned on him. "She did not take the Queensguard?"

"She deemed it unnecessary since she wasn’t traveling very far from our borders," Arvellas replied, the anguish returning to his face. "The scouts reported there were small children in the settlement. She did not wish to frighten the families by arriving with armed guards. She went without any regalia."

"No soldiers?" said Legolas in disbelief.

"She took four," Turhir rumbled in a sudden growl. "A dozen workers--cooks and builders and nurses, but only four swords."

A bleak silence descended upon the room following these words, as each prince simultaneously envisioned the scene in their heads, their beloved mother being ambushed by savage orcs, protected by fewer guards than she had sons. Mirion knew just the very idea of it sickened them all to their stomachs.

The Crown Prince glanced over at the King again and found that he still hadn't moved, still remained wordless. But they all understood that the Queen would never have traveled under such conditions without leave from her King.

"She cannot do that again," Turhir continued, his frustrations boiling over unabated. He passed a tightly clenched fist across his mouth as a strangled laugh escaped him. “Legions of highly trained warriors at our disposal and she insists on taking the greenhorns, the unbloodied, as her shield. Yes, we give Ammë all the concessions she desires, but this is one folly we should have never condoned!”

Although Mirion cringed at his brother’s harsh tirade, none of them were likely to disagree with Turhir’s words. Over the years, their mother had indeed made a habit of rotating the guards assigned to her escort, claiming it was an added opportunity to foster bonds of loyalty. But she also favored the newer recruits, with the softer reasoning that it would give their young soldiers self-confidence and pride.

"She had no reason to believe it was dangerous," Mirion said quietly. “Safety protocols were observed, and she had done this same trip, similar outreaches, countless times in the past. The orc raid was without precedent.”

"Yet also, Ammë was able to defend herself,” Gelir interjected. When they all turned to stare at him, he raised his hands defensively. “Or are we going to ignore that? She killed a number of them before they caught her off-guard. Using a butcher knife. She can fight!"

"What does that matter?!” Turhir snapped. “The Taubereth should never be forced to raise a weapon to defend herself! She did not birth five of us just to suffer indignity such as this!"

“And the proposed solution is to curtail her freedoms. Is that what I am hearing?”

The King spoke at last. At his first utterance, the princes were silenced. Their gazes fell prostrate as their father’s glare stormed over them in turn, before locking on his second-born.

“Surely you are not laying blame on the Queen for this incident.” He tilted his head in a challenge. “Or does the fault lie in your King?”

“No, your Grace,” Turhir mumbled. After the briefest of pauses, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, continuing, “The Queen’s safety is all our responsibility.”

“That much we agree on.” The King faced the table again and made a sweeping gesture over the map. “This is our land. Our Queen should be able to travel through it freely without fearing for her safety, or else we have failed our charge. I will not have her restricted or cowering behind shields. But this--!”

His voice rose sharply as he thrust out the orc knife in his hand. “The wretched filth drew your mother’s blood. Never again!”

He slammed the dagger into the table, driving the entire length of the blade into the wood with such force, all five of the princes flinched. “Never. Again.” The King hissed, overwhelmed with a rush of ferocity that made him visibly shake.

“Your Grace.” Mirion swallowed hard in the face of his father’s wrath. "There is none here that would not lay down his life for Ammë,” he said, as his brothers nodded their agreement. “But we can only protect her from dangers we know. We need to learn where those orcs came from, and how they managed to catch us unawares."

“Over five hundred years,” the King muttered. “It has been at least that long since The Deceiver’s vermin was last sighted in our realm. If remnants survived and have started to breed once more nearby…”

He rested his hands on the table surface and reflected stonily on the map of his kingdom.

"We will scour the lands,” he said darkly. “Search every inch, flush out every corner and give no chance for those roaches to grow their numbers. We shall take no rest until the forests are guaranteed to be clean."

The King and princes commenced poring over the map together and outlining strategies. After about an hour of this intensely focused work, the King abruptly stopped mid-discussion. He raised his head and his eyes glazed over as though he had been drawn to the calling of a far-off voice.

"She is awake." He immediately started for the door as he called back to his sons. "Continue amongst yourselves. I will hear your proposals when we resume at dawn."

They all relaxed and breathed a little easier after he left to attend the Queen. It took Turhir both hands and all of his strength to wrench the orc hilt free from the table; the ruined steel snapped and left half of itself lodged in the cracked wood. Mirion sank into a chair for a moment of peace while his brothers paired up to trade stories.

In his idle listening, the eldest prince took the most interest in the conversation between Legolas and Gelir.

"Consider yourself fortunate,” Gelir told their youngest brother. “That you missed the first few hours after they brought Ammë back and the healers worked on her."

Legolas grimaced. "Were her injuries so terrible?"

"It is Ammë,” Gelir said bitterly. “Even the smallest bruise upon her is unacceptable, so yes! It was unbearable to see her in such a state. But there was still something even worse than that…"

Mirion already knew what Gelir was referring to, before he completed his sentence. He’d seen it too, something he had never witnessed in his life and truly wished never to behold again. Except he knew he would never be able to scour from his memory the look on the King’s face when he pulled his bleeding, barely conscious wife into his arms.

"We saw Ada frightened."

Thranduil Taglist: @aduialel

A/N: Part Two is in the works and will be posted soon! Please stay tuned, and thank you for reading!

For more stories and/or info about the sons of Thranduil, please see: My Masterlists

#thranduil oropherion #thranduil #thranduil fanfiction #king thranduil #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #lotr fanfiction #legolas #legolas fanfiction #thranduil wife #sotwk fanfiction #sotwk

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sweetheartsnips · 7 months

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Prove It

Pairing: Captain Rex and Ahsoka (platonic)

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly September 2023 - 'Prove it'

Warnings: Unconsciousness, elusions to order 66, other than that none I believe

Rating: T

Word count: 1012

A/N: This is honestly the first piece of writing I have produced in YEARS. I am trying to get back into the groove of things so here is a little tiny fic I put together, a bit rough around the edges as I am still relearning how to write but hopefully it is palatable. Enjoy!

"She will be fine. She is more than capable”, Anakin waved Rex off, turning his back to him and reaching for the control panel to leave the room.

“With respect General, my men are not a bunch of clankers. They know how to hit a target”, Rex stated, a tiny flicker of concern at the bottom of his voice.

Anakin turned his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “That’s the point”.

Rex exhaled, his shoulders dropping the moment Anakin had left the room. He took a seat at his desk, relaxed, and propped himself up with his elbows, his heavy head falling into his hands. Sighing, his calloused fingertips massaged around to his temples. It was neither his place nor his responsibility to worry for Commander Tano. Anakin was right, she is more than capable for this form of exercise. Maker, she was probably capable of taking on the entire 501st. At least he thought so.

“Again”. Anakin ordered.

“I don’t know how much more of this she can take”, Rex said, visibly concerned.

Ahsoka’s lashes fluttered as she shook her head, struggling to gain any purchase on her feet. She tried to stabilise herself, visibly disoriented, the residual effects of numerous stun bolts taking their toll.

As she gradually grounded herself, Ahsoka’s brow furrowed with determination, her montrals sensitive to any movement both through the force and in the crisp cool air of the empty hangar. Her lightsabers emitted a dull green glow over her, her chest rising and falling with each slow breath she took as she felt through the force for the slightest indication that any trooper surrounding her would fire.

One. The stun bolt evaporated into shards of electricity upon impact with her lightsaber. Two. Ahsoka deflected another with ease. Three. Four. Five. It struck her directly in the chest. She let out a small cry, unconscious before her small frame met the floor with a thud that echoed through the silent, still hangar. Rex winced, glancing at Anakin in his peripheral vision. He didn’t seem to feel any empathy toward her. He just stood there, arms crossed with a frown on his face, looming over his padawan unconscious in a heap. It was a sorry sight for Rex.

“I thought she’d last longer than that by now”, Anakin sighed, breaking the blanket of silence that enveloped the room.

Rex turned to face him, “Jesse did get her pretty good”, he remarked.

“She’ll be fine, Rex”, he taunted. Anakin crouched down, resting his index and middle finger on her neck, checking her pulse. “See, her heart’s beating. She’s fine.When she wakes up, we will go again”.

“General Skywalker, are you sure this type of training is necessary? She is able to defend herself against blaster fire already, with all due respect - why put her through this?”. Rex said, his face harbouring a look of worry.

“I want her to be the best”.

“She already is the best, General.” Realising what he said, Rex felt his ears sear with embarrassment, an incriminating shade of pink staining his cheeks. His gaze dropped to his feet, scratching the back of his buzzed hair. He could hear Fives and Echo snickering behind him, and feel Anakin’s glare burning holes in him. “Uhhhh.. She is your padawan, after all”, he blurted out, looking up to meet Anakin’s confused stare. Rex swallowed, frankly, he felt a bit humiliated. After what felt like several rotations, Anakin finally broke the embarrassing silence.

“Sure, Rex”, Anakin rolled his eyes, “Come help me prop her up”.

It was no secret to General Skywalker and the boys that the Commander held a special place in his heart. Ever since the Battle of Christophsis, Rex had grown close to both the Commander and General Skywalker. Like any ad’ika, she teased and disobeyed orders, but she was special to him, like all of his vod. Special not just in her advanced abilities, but as a friend.

“When do you think she’ll wake up this time?” Rex asked, crouching down to check her breathing.

“Don’t worry Captain”, Anakin reassured, “She’ll wake up soon”.

Rex often wore a battle-hardened, disciplined facade, but he also cared deeply for those around him. Despite Rex rarely exhibiting any emotional or mental vulnerability, it was not rare for him to show concern for people he cared about. He was a soldier, but that does not mean he cannot still be a friend.

Rex watched Ahsoka’s blue eyes slowly reveal themselves through her heavy eyelids as she stirred. Anakin was right, Ahsoka was unconscious for less and less time with each stun she wore. This time, it was only a few minutes. Rex offered her his hand, as she propped herself up, assisting her to her feet.

“Not bad. It took us all of 5 minutes to knock you out this time”, Rex commended her, meeting her eyes. Her eyes were still slightly glazed over whilst she was reorienting herself.

“Wow, new record”, Ahsoka sarcastically breathed, rubbing her forehead, “But I can do better”.

“Is that so?” Anakin interrupted from behind Rex’s shoulder , “Prove it. Rex, put on your bucket. You can join in this time”.

“Yes, General Skywalker.” Rex nodded, accepting the order with what appeared to be with no hesitation, but his stomach churned with reluctance internally. He stepped away from Ahsoka and turned to take his place in the circle surrounding her, readying himself for the next round. Something felt off. Not just because he was about to lead yet another onslaught of stun bolts at the Commander, but something about this felt as if it were out of a dream. A familiar dream, one that he had often, but he could never recall once he woke up. One that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was almost a sense of deja vu for something that had not yet happened.

Shaking it off, Rex fastened his helmet and turned to face Ahsoka, uncomfortably unholstering both of his blasters and pointing them directly at her.

“Begin”, Rex ordered.

#rexsoka monthly #ahsoka #rexsoka #star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #ahsoka tano #rexsoka monthly september prompt 'prove it'#star wars clone wars

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torao-d-water-ya · 1 year

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One Piece Episode 1012 | 1046

Zoro and Sanji @ Chopper after Onigashima: Oh, Marco. Your new best friend Marco you think is cooler than us because he used his awesome phoenix powers to save us during the raid?

Chopper: Yeee- I never said that!

#chopper #marco #fuchichou marco #tony tony chopper #zosan #one piece #zoro #sanji #brook #marco the phoenix #one piece anime #watch out zoro sanji luffy usopp sogeking franky law #chopper has a new hero to worship

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wurm-food · 9 months

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Ooooooh my god I can’t wait to see Nami kick some ass ahhhhhhhh

One Piece - #1012

#I get so hyped for Nami fight scenes #I love her I love her #one piece #op 1012 #Nami #ulti #usopp #wano kuni #op panels #wurm piece

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daemonchainz · 2 years

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Excuse me LAW???! Why is he sitting like that?!

#one piece ch 1012 #one piece spoilers #spoilers #manga spoilers #one piece #op sanji #op trafalgar law #op roronoa zoro

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thepastisalreadywritten · 10 months

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SAINT OF THE DAY (June 19)

Saint Romuald, who founded the Camaldolese Monastic Order during the early eleventh century, has his liturgical memorial on June 19.

Working within the Western Church’s Benedictine tradition, he revived the primitive monastic practice of hermit life, allowing for greater solitude in a communal setting.

Born into an aristocratic family during the middle of the tenth century, Romuald grew up in a luxurious and worldly environment, where he learned little in the way of self-restraint or religious devotion.

Yet he also felt an unusual attraction toward the simplicity of monastic life, prompted by the beauty of nature and the experience of solitude .

It was not beauty or tranquility, but a shocking tragedy that spurred him to act on this desire.

When Romuald was 20 years old, he saw his father Sergius kill one of his relatives in a dispute over some property.

Disgusted by the crime he had witnessed, the young man went to the Monastery of St. Apollinaris to do 40 days of penance for his father.

These 40 days confirmed Romuald’s monastic calling, as they became the foundation for an entire life of penance.

But this would not be lived out at St. Apollinaris, where Romuald’s strict asceticism brought him into conflict with some of the other monks.

He left the area near Ravenna and went to Venice, where he became the disciple of the hermit Marinus.

Both men went on to encourage the monastic vocation of Peter Urseolus, a Venetian political leader who would later be canonized as a saint.

When Peter joined a French Benedictine monastery, Romuald followed him and lived for five years in a nearby hermitage.

In the meantime, Romuald’s father Sergius had followed his son’s course, repenting of his sins and becoming a monk himself.

Romuald returned to Italy to help his father, after learning that Sergius was struggling in his vocation.

Through his son’s guidance, Sergius found the strength to persist in religious life.

After guiding his penitent father in the way of salvation, Romuald traveled throughout Italy serving the Church.

By 1012, he had helped to establish or reform almost 100 hermitages and monasteries, though these were not connected to one another in the manner of a distinct religious order.

The foundations of the Camaldolese order were not laid until 1012 – when a piece of land called the ”Camaldoli,” located in the Diocese of Arezzo, was granted to Romuald.

It became the site of five hermits’ quarters and a full monastery soon after.

This combination of hermits’ cells and community life, together with other distinctive features, gave this monastery and its later affiliates a distinct identity and charism.

Romuald’s approach to the contemplative life, reminiscent of the early Desert Fathers, can be seen in the short piece of writing known as his “Brief Rule.”

It reads as follows:

“Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. The path you must follow is in the Psalms – never leave it.

If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will, you cannot accomplish what you want, take every opportunity you can to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them with your mind.

And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up; hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more.

Realize above all that you are in God’s presence and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor.

Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes nothing and eats nothing but what his mother brings him.”

Romuald of Ravenna died in his monastic cell on 19 June 1027.

Pope Gregory XIII canonized him in 1582.

#Saint of the Day #Saint Romuald #Saint Romuald of Ravenna #Brief Rule #Camaldolese Monastic Order

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