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shipping-all-ships · 1 month

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Lu Ten: I'm sorry to say this, kiddos, but your father has passed away. Zuko(10): *bursts into tears* Azula(8): *shocked* How...how did father die? Lu Ten: Uhh (Flasback to Lu Ten shoving Ozai out the window) Lu Ten: Assassin. Lu Ten: With more arm strength than he thought he had.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #incorrect quotes #lu ten #azula #zuko #lu ten lives au #it really was an accident he just wanted to shove ozai into the window as a warning not cause a murder #i saw someone say lu ten and iroh inherited the tree trunk arms and everyone else in the family is a twink and I agree #probably part of the fire lord lu ten au

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chryssta · 2 years

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So, I have this tree, okay?

Back in July or so, my great grandmother died after living for 101 years. It wasn't really a shock she'd passed, but what was a shock, was how long it took before she did. I know, that sounds harsh, right? It's not meant to. Her husband passed twelve years ago, her brother passed several years before then, so on and so forth. She's the only one of her immediate family to make it to 2022, except her daughter (my father's mother).

So, in her passing, she left a house full of stuff, and all her plants. Now, at the time, I was barely keeping myself, a christmas cactus, three pots of chives, and some odd bulb plant alive, I had no idea what to do with all her plants too. And my parents didn't want them, since my mom had her own plants to take care of. So my best friend (sister from another mother) took the big tree things and a couple other smaller plants that kinda got lost in the mix.

She was going to take this weird stick with scattered leaves, but something interesting happened when I watered them, since it took a week or so at my house before she could get them. I swear, I heard a soft male voice thanking me for the water I gave to this weird tree thing. I swear, I heard "thank you". So I vowed to keep him, the voice and the tree, safe.

After a failed Google search on slow data and a bad connection, Google claimed it was a Ficus tree, so I started calling it 'Ficcy'. When my data was restored and I tried again with the search (everyone kept saying he wasn't a Ficus), Google came back with the correct answer that he's a Hibiscus Tree, but the name Ficcy sort of stuck. I haven't heard the voice since moving him into the light in my living room window, but that's okay. I can tell Ficcy is happy without the voice telling me he's happy. He keeps growing more and bigger leaves, and every now and then, he'll pop up with a flower or three per branch. He's no longer just a weird stick with a few leaves, but a brilliant tree with reddish pink flowers all over the place.

And he's beautiful.

He's picked up a few yellow leaves for autumn, but he keeps growing in more and more to replace them. So much so, that he's getting to the point where he'll be ready for a trimming to make a bunch of baby Ficcy trees.

I even took to taking a few of the smaller ones to take macro shots with my phone.

But at the end of the day, when all is said and done, he's a beautiful tree that is happy where he is, and still blooming, even with a few yellow leaves popping up here and there. And those other trees my friend got? They're thrilled to be in a new home with someone who can care for them the way they wanted.

Oh, I forgot to mention, it's a great possibility that Ficcy is about 20ish years old. How wild is that?

My beloved Ficcy the Hibiscus Tree.

#not a ficus tree #photography #tree #flowers #plants #beloved tree #my baby boy #beautiful #hibiscus #hibiscus tree #house plants #inheritance tree #Ficcy has a facebook page.#Just follow the link in his name at the bottom of the post.

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chechula · 29 days

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comic conversation with dear Kristýna ♥ this is an answer to her cute comic, now it is her turn to answer my page ♥ (and so we plan to go on till...we run out of ideas :D )

#original #comic #trees #yes #I know that LP doesn't work this way #but I have inherit this LP player from my dad and it is really powerfull home-made thing!

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pitasmare · 1 month

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learning that at one point in time during concept art they entertained the idea of v being a woman drives me fucking insane! i've lost sleep over this!!! it was such a good idea!

vergil picturing his human side as a woman because he can't de-entangle his humanity from eva. the resulting simultaneous rejection of both his mother and his humanity after the fire, and all the love and frailness that came with it (ignoring the strength found in it as well)!!!!!!! the continuation of a perceived abandonment cycle with nero! the guilt! the shame!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#dmc #dmc vergil #it would have been great for everyone’s mommy issues. and by that i mean it would have been the emotional equivalent #of what that hell tree did to capulet city #AAAAA #i think eva/vergil parallels are hotter than sparda/vergil parallels. let the twins parallel the parent they have the most issues with.#its sexier. trust. and i mean. they already do it with the whole aight. you have to come to terms with your x side #inherited from your x parent. BUT i firmly believe they should have leaned further in with vergil

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pizzaqueen · 2 years

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(This started as me thinking about how Eddie would name the trees in their yard after Ents, then I wrote a very small mushy little thing about it)

They're sick of apartment living and, while neither of their jobs are bringing home the big bucks, Steve has his inheritance from his grandparents and so they start house hunting. They look at so many houses within their budget and they're all nice but Eddie's looking for more than nice. He wants character. Something that feels like home. And then he finds it. It's a little more rundown than the other houses but there's this big oak tree in the front yard that Eddie just falls in love with. He's never been much of a tree person, or into nature at all, but suddenly the idea of having a house with a tree in the front yard is everything he never knew he wanted.

"This one," he says, when the real estate agent leaves them for a moment to think things over.

Steve looks around at the peeling wallpaper, the lifting floorboards, hands on his hips. "Really?"

"Yeah." Eddie looks out the window, to where the oak tree stands and says, "Yeah," again. "This one."

Eddie's worried that the condition of the house might be offputting, but Steve seems to be into the idea of fixing it up. He's excited, even, starting to talk about all the things he wants to do. So, they buy the house. Eddie calls the oak tree Treebeard and then he says they need to plant another because Treebeard needs his lady love, Fimbrethil.

(Pippin (the cat) gets stuck in Treebeard's branches more than once and Steve and Eddie take turns getting her down, soothing her frazzled nerves)

And all the trees in the backyard—old and new—get names, too. There's Quickbeam and Leaflock and Beechbone and Skinbark. Steve only suggests once that they cut one of them down to make way for a bigger patio before he knows never to ask again. But they build a treehouse in one for when their 'nieces' and 'nephews' visit (and sometimes they sneak up there themselves, with some beers or a bottle of top shelf, giggling like they're still a couple of kids) and put a tire swing on another and carve their initials into one right at the back of the yard (but not deep enough to hurt it)

But Treebeard stands unadorned, giving them shade on hot summer days and some semblance of privacy from inquisitive neighbors. They like to sit under the tree on nice days, talking or just sitting quietly, and Eddie knows he made the right choice. This is home.

#steddie #Steve x eddie #Steddie fic #Steddie fanfic #i don’t know if I’ll ever write this in a bigger thing so here we go!#though I am working on a fic where Steve inherits a haunted house from his grandparents so maybe Eddie can call a tree treebeard in that XD #pizzaqueentxt #pizzaqueenfic

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hawkflame999 · 3 months

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Fandoms I'M IN. (in no order)

Ninjago (all my posts on this so far)

Ranger's Apprentice (none yet at the time I posted this)

How to Train Your Dragon. (none yet at the time I posted this)

Wolfwalkers (none yet at the time I posted this)

Inheritance Cycle (none yet at the time I posted this)

Sonic the Hedgehog (none yet at the time I posted this)

Lego Monkie Kid (sort of) (none yet at the time I posted this)

The entire Rick Riordan fandom (none yet at the time I posted this)

Watership Down (none yet at the time I posted this)

Foxcraft (none yet at the time I posted this)

Magic Tree House (none yet at the time I posted this)

Dragons The Nine Realms (none yet at the time I posted this)

Minecraft (none yet at the time I posted this)

Guardians of Ga'hoole (none yet at the time I posted this)

Wolves of the Beyond (none yet at the time I posted this)

Godzilla (none yet at the time I posted this)

Marvel (sort of) (none yet at the time I posted this)

Angry Birds (none yet at the time I posted this)

Abominable (none yet at the time I posted this)

Keeper of the Lost Cities (none yet at the time I posted this)

Wings of Fire (none yet at the time I posted this)

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modern-inheritance · 8 months

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Modern Inheritance: Mates (One Word Prompt Story)

Set in that ambiguous time period of MIC's plot where Dras Leona happened in Inheritance but Nasuada wasn't captured and the war kept dragging on.

(A/N: I can't say I'm back, but it is good to be writing again. I don't know where this romance muck came from but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't oddly fond of it. It started as a humor piece and then actually got serious for a bit. This could be considered a follow up to the other one word prompt Wonder. Hope you enjoy!)

Eragon ran his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to comb it back to its normal disarray.

‘Do I look normal?’ He turned to Saphira, palms out and held away from his body as he did a quick 360 spin. He was pretty sure his clothes were fine, he had stopped by his tent to grab a fresh set but hadn’t been able to find a mirror.

The dragon snorted, an undercurrent of laughter weaving through her voice. ‘Normal? Do you mean to ask if you look like you just had a wild rut with your bodyguard and eternal infatuation for the first time last night?’ Saphira lowered her head and regarded him with one large eye, mirth dancing in the pre-dawn light reflected there.

Eragon felt his ears promptly turn a dark crimson. ‘Could you please stop calling it that?’ He pleaded. ‘It makes it sound so…animalistic. It was more than that, it was….’ The young Rider trailed off, his face heating up as well as memories of the encounter began flitting to the forefront of his mind. ‘I shouldn’t be thinking about it right now. Just…do I look okay?’

Saphira contained her giggles as best she could. She knew what the previous night meant for Eragon, what it meant for his heart and what it meant for them both as a bonded Rider and Dragon. She could feel underneath his nerves that the young man was practically leaping with joy, his heart singing with a completion that had evaded him for so long. Teasing him was fun, especially with how flustered he was in the moment, but she would never leave him without support. Even when letting him squirm was exponentially more entertaining.

So she cocked her head this way and that, gently nudged him slightly to get a better look, and gave him a cursory sniff. ‘You still smell like sex.’

‘Saphira!’

‘Not enough for the elves to detect.’ The dragon assured. After looking him up and down one more time, bobbing her head, Saphira gave him a gentle chuff. ‘You look fine. Very normal.’

Eragon let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding. ‘Thank you.’ Still a bit nervous, he nodded towards the makeshift pens the Varden had set up to hold their animals. ‘I guess if you want something to eat, now’s the time.’

Saphira merely folded her paws over each other and rested her head on the ground. ‘I hunted last night. I will wait for you here.’ She gave him a nudge with a short blast of air from her nostrils, pushing him towards the near empty mess tent. ‘Go on. Be normal.’

He gave her a nervous smile and pushed through the flap, trying to hide the excited shaking of his hands.

Inside the tent was dim, lit only by a few soft lanterns scattered throughout. His elven bodyguards were already arrayed at several tables, eating their breakfasts before dawn as they usually did. The quiet murmur of their voices only paused for a moment when Eragon entered, and then returned to the low mumble of a typical morning.

Collecting his food from the trays set out by the cooks, Eragon quickly found a seat across Brom and Glenwing at an otherwise empty table.

“Morning.” He nodded to them both. Just be normal.

“Good morning, Eragon.” Glen smiled, raising two of his mechanical fingers in greeting.

Brom just grunted, hunched over his coffee.

First hurdle crossed. Relieved, the young Rider ducked his head and began attacking his breakfast. Who knew that spending a majority of the night entangled in someone’s arms would be so draining?

So focused on his meal, Eragon didn’t notice when Glen glanced up and did a sudden double take. Nor when the elf nudged the young man’s father beside him.

Eragon did notice when Brom suddenly choked on his coffee.

He looked up, concerned, as the old man coughed and banged his chest, face turning red. “Hey, you okay?”

“Totally fine.” Brom wheezed. There was no mistaking it. That was definitely there. Brom was still getting used to being a proper father, no matter the smattering of years that passed since revealing his relation to the boy. He couldn’t tell if he should be proud, worried, or angry.

Glen just hid his smile with a sip of his tea. Taken them long enough. He was happy for them.

A few minutes later the tent flap brushed open. Eragon stiffened his muscles, resisting the urge to turn. He knew exactly who had just walked in. They had planned it after all. Don’t show up at the mess together, or too close together.

“Good morning, sir.” He could hear some of the sleepiness still in her voice as she greeted Blödhgarm as normal, could practically see in his mind's eye the way she tapped her knuckles to her chest in a tired elven salute. “Reporting for duty.”

“Good morning, Arya.” Blödhgarm’s smooth voice remained even. Good. He didn’t notice anything.

The relief trickling in abruptly halted when Blödhgarm suddenly let out an uncharacteristic choked cough. But that had to be just a coincidence, because Eragon could hear that Arya was already walking by as it happened. Her footsteps stopped though, and he could hear her turn back.

“You alright?”

Blödhgarm cleared his throat. “Quite. Anything to report?”

Eragon could hear the shrug in her voice. “No. All quiet.” When the fur covered elf didn’t respond beyond a hum, Eragon felt his tensing shoulders slump back to relaxed. Must have been dust or something.

A few moments later Arya put her tray down next to Eragon’s, sitting beside him at the bench. “That was weird.” She frowned, scooping up a bland forkful of tofu scramble. “Did he pick something up the last time the Queen’s scouts came by?”

Eragon shrugged. “Maybe?” He looked to Glen across the table, the medic doing his best to keep a straight face. “Did he talk to you about anything?”

“Uh-uh.” Glen shoved a torn piece of bread into his mouth while mumbling the negative. That would do for now.

Brom, however, sat with his mouth hanging open. He snapped it shut when Arya looked up, but apparently he hadn’t been fast enough.

Arya squinted at him suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you, old man?”

Caught and flustered, the old Rider opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had known there wasn’t really anyone else who could have left that on his son, but seeing as the woman in front of him with one as well had left him somewhat shellshocked.

After a few moments of Arya staring at him with a raised eyebrow and his chance catching flies rapidly increasing, Brom managed to sputter, “Any–...Anything you two want to tell us?”

“What?” Arya frowned. Brom reached up and jerkily tapped the side of his head. “What are you–” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh. Oh no.”

Eragon whipped his head around. “Oh no?”

Arya lowered her rapidly blushing face into her hands with a groaned, “We didn’t.” It was more of a plea than a statement.

“You did.” Brom confirmed.

“Please tell me we didn’t!”

“You did!” Glenwing laughed.

Eragon looked between the three of them, incredulous. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”

From behind her hands, her head now lowered to the table and her ears turning as dark scarlet as Eragon’s had, Arya half laughed and half mumbled, “We marked each other as mates last night.”

Still laughing, Glen reached across the table and tugged his former CO’s head to the side. On the tip of her opposite ear Eragon saw a dark bruise, clearly outlining a bite mark. His hand flew up to the tips of his own ears, and with a rapid blush he felt a slight bolt of soreness on his left.

“Oh.” He looked down at his food. “Well, that’ll do it then.”

The tent filled with soft laughter, and with a jolt Eragon realized it was the other elves.

“About time!” Yaela called, shaking her head with a smile. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Seconded on that.” Glen beamed. “Half of us were about to start putting bets on you two.”

Blödhgarm’s sonorous voice cut through the rabble. “As long as this does not affect your duties–”

“It won’t.” Arya was standing, face still splashed with color but her expression firm. “It never has and it never will. And from all of you!” She pointed menacingly at the other tables where her kind gathered. To Eragon’s surprise, the laughter and jovial attitude died immediately. “Not a word of this leaves this tent. This is our business, so no hint of this goes in any official or unofficial reports. Understood?”

Blödhgarm cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. The elfling typically followed the loose command structure set since he and the rest of the spellcasters had arrived. This was a bold move, though in truth he had long ago learned to expect those from the Queen’s daughter.

He nodded. “Understood.”

Arya dropped back onto the bench, leaning against it for support as she looked suddenly drained. “Good.” She rubbed her forehead. “Okay, good. That’s the main thing. Okay.”

The tent slowly returned to the soft murmur of quiet conversation, though this time a little more hushed. Arya turned back to her food, poking at it with a fork as the other occupants of the table did the same.

“Sorry about that.” Eragon looked over at Arya’s mumble. “I…I got scared for a second. Islanzadí….” She closed her eyes, and took a breath. “I just don’t want someone else telling her.”

“No one will.” Glen assured. The two across from him looked up. “And I want to say congratulations to you both.”

Brom cleared his throat and set down his coffee mug. “I am…entirely unsure as to what I’m supposed to do in this situation but…” He nodded. “I’m happy for you two as well. Just…be careful.”

The acceptance of his father instantly sent a broad smile across Eragon’s face. “Thank you.” The wiggly glimmers of excitement had wormed their way back into his chest, making his heart flutter.

Arya, however, wore a half twisted smirk of trepidation and amusement on her lips. “You’re both going to tease us mercilessly about this, aren’t you?”

‘They’ll have plenty of help with that.’ Saphira’s toothy grin flashed through the minds of the four at the table.

The elf shook her head with a laugh. “Fine. I guess there’s no avoiding it.”

Eragon shook his head, and for the entirety of breakfast didn’t lose his smile.

It wasn’t until after, a few days after in fact, that the young Rider and his original bodyguard had a moment of time alone again. They didn’t spend the time as passionately as they had that night, but instead sat together in Eragon’s tent, letting the quiet drape over them.

In some ways, Eragon mused, their relationship hadn’t really changed. They had done this before as friends many times, just sitting together in a little piece of solitude away from the war and tumultuous world around them. It had taken time for their shoulders to touch but from that point on they leaned on each other for support, a moment of contact that didn’t signify danger or a brief spark of comfort that would flit away.

The only difference was that this time Eragon was sprawled out, his head resting in the elf’s lap as she gently combed her fingers through his hair. His own fingertips wandered her side, feeling the muscles beneath shift as she breathed. Occasionally his palm would slide over her hip to lay flat on her back, relishing in the warmth that seeped from her skin to his.

They stayed like that for a time before the young Rider tilted his head upwards. “Arya?”

“Hmm?” She brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He’d probably ask her to help cut his hair again soon. It was getting longer than he usually preferred, the back nearly touching his shoulders.

“What the others noticed before. The marks. What’s it mean?”

“Oh.”

Eragon sat up when her hand paused. “You don’t have to–”

“No. No, you should know.” Arya was blushing again, and Eragon couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped his lips. She had so rarely blushed before, but now, having to explain the base instincts of her race to him had her stomach turning in knots. “Many elves don’t commit to a partner. When they do, it’s…it’s expected to be long term. Like, long term.” She bit her lip, trying to find the best words. “We instinctively marked each other because of the whole…pheromones…thing. And usually that mark means that we’ve committed to each other. Exclusively.”

Eragon frowned slightly. “So...did we essentially get married while having sex?”

Arya laughed at that. “No! But…it just means we’re monogamous. Usually there’d be more talking about it first.” She looked down, her voice dropping. “I…I didn’t mean to lay claim to you like that without asking. I should have asked, and it’s considered practically illegal to do so without asking. I…” She took another deep breath. “I do love you, Eragon. And I also know that you are young, and could have anyone you want. You reciprocated the bite because of instinct, without knowing what it meant, and I shouldn’t have let it get to that point.”

Concerned at the rising distress in her voice, the young Rider slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand. A pang hit him when her grip remained loose.

“I should have asked you and explained it. And if you want to reject it then we can just heal the marks, you don’t have to be bound by–”

He was relieved that his lips on hers silenced her. Her fingers immediately found his hair as he leaned into her, his own hand falling to the back of her neck to hold her close. When he pulled back he felt a tingle of pride that Arya was somewhat breathless.

“Well, if you should have asked….” He murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. “Ask me now.”

“What?” She fumbled, lightly putting a hand to his chest. “Eragon, you don’t have to–”

He shushed her gently, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. “How do I ask then?” He didn’t know why she looked so dumbfounded. He hadn’t exactly kept how much he loved her, how much he had wanted her and wanted her by his side forever, a secret. Worry wormed its way into his mind. What if she didn’t? What if that night was all just pheromones and battlefield friendship being mistaken by biology for genuine love? “I won’t if you don’t want me t–”

“You use my name. You ask if I will be your mate until the sun burns out or our feelings fade the same.” The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush. Her dark eyes looked into his, and for a moment Eragon saw past the rough and tumble exterior, the battered memories and steely conviction, all the things he had thought he had seen through before and he saw something new. She was pleading with him, begging for him to say the words despite the fear that kept sneaking up, the fear of losing him like she had lost so many others and the fear that one day his feelings would fade, that he would turn away from her to find another.

Eragon met her gaze and gently cupped her face in his hands, nose to nose with the woman he couldn’t even begin to describe how he felt so strongly for.

“Arya Dröttningu, will you be my mate until the sun burns out or our feelings fade the same?” He smiled softly, his voice that low rumble again. “But mine won’t.”

Arya’s fingers tightened in his hair and she closed her eyes, teeth digging into her lip. The last time she made this claim, the man she held had indeed burned out with the sun. He was buried leagues away, beneath sun dappled pines and with a black morning glory climbing the trunk of his living grave marker. That pain, that ache, the feeling of seeing him fall, it never went away.

Except when she was with him. Except when she felt Eragon’s arm around her shoulders the last few months, except when he couldn’t help but hug her after losing sight of her on the battlefield, when he looked at her with those dark eyes of his, when he laughed, when he touched her at all and when he slid his wonderful hands across her bare skin that night and stole her breath from her lungs with every damn kiss. It had happened so slowly yet so fast, and even though the pain was still there she could pass it by and know.

Know that it was okay. Know that Fäolin would have wanted her to have someone again. Know that Eragon was here, and alive, and she’d do everything she could to keep it that way. Know that she was the bodyguard this time, know that he would be safe with her, with Saphira, with Brom, with everyone else and everyone in the Varden was working to keep this one man and his partner of heart and mind alive.

And the King be damned if he was going to try and take another from her.

Fuck, she really did love him. And he had made it clear that he loved her.

She was already saying it, eyes open and locked to his.

“I will. Eragon Bromsson, will you be my mate until the stars burn out or our feelings fade the same?” She slid her hand over his, murmured against his lips, “Mine won’t either.”

“I will.”

When Arya pulled back she was met with one of the most Eragon expressions she had ever seen. He was beaming ear to ear, eyes shining with that childlike light that always had her on the edge of laughter. He was practically shaking with excitement, and suddenly grabbed her hands.

He dropped off the cot and onto one knee, clasping both her hands in his and kissed them, trying to hide the giddy smile. “We’ve done it your way, now I get to do it mine. Arya Dröttningu, will you marry me?”

At that Arya couldn’t help but laugh. He was too much. “I’ve told you, elves don’t marry, you big dope!”

The smile never faded. “Then can I at least get you a ring? I can make them like Roran’s and Katrina’s, we’ll never have to be wondering what part of the warzone we’ve managed to get to again!” Eragon was practically bouncing, and again pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Pleeease?”

Damn it. The way he looked at her from under his bangs, gaze a mixture of pleading puppy and somehow alluring, made it nigh impossible to refuse him. Laughing again, Arya shook her head in disbelief. What had she gotten herself into when falling in love with him? “Fine! Fine. But nothing fancy!”

The bouncing increased. “Can I say we’re married?” Arya’s sharp frown still did little to dissuade his joy. He knew better than that, knew that she didn’t like that kind of personal information being slung around the Varden where any spy could seize on it. “No. Okay. Can I at least tell Roran and Katrina that we’re officially mates?”

Arya sighed, teasingly making it sound as long-suffering as possible. “You can tell Roran and Katrina. Brom and Glen already know, but you can tell them it’s official if you want.”

The elf jumped when Eragon let out an elated whoop and leapt to his feet. “Saphira!” He was out of the tent before Arya could blink, and then back again, grabbing her hand and pulling her out with him. “Saphira, we need to go see Roran and Katrina right now!”

As Saphira launched them into the sky with a bugle, rippled with her own draconic laughter at her Rider’s joy, Arya just shook her head again and laughed with them. Whatever the hell she had just gotten into, it would certainly be interesting.

#inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance stories #the cyclists #the inheritance cycle #eragon/arya #modern inheritance #ket's modern inheritance cycle #arya drottningu #saphira #brom #glenwing #elf guards #they dont have a tag yet #eragon x arya #eragon's a simp that's no secret #Arya holds a surprising amount of nerves around having a partner again #she's good at hiding it but looking deeper she is insanely scared eragon will die or go the menoa tree route #its not shown but Arya is very much no PDA unless extreme stress situations while eragon learns to hide his PDA via small touches #there uh...might have been some poorly done lemon work between this and Wonder but we're not posting that #anyway very happy to be able to post something long form again even if its not terribly long #i'll try to write more stuff later #i gotta get better at adding saphira in to things though #for now we're going with that she is letting them be lovey dorks in as private as it can get and is letting them work it out #along for the ride and the teasing #Shakarian fics fucking ruined me for biting someone to signify that they are mates okay alright im done now

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queer-book-character-tournament · 1 year

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Book names + authors under the cut

Maya/Claire- Far From the Tree by Robin Benway

Rebecca Laughlin/Theadora Calligaris- The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Alexander Vass/Colin Hyland- If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio

Delilah Green/Claire Sutherland- Delilah Green Doesn’t Care by Ashley Herring Blake

#Maya #Claire #Far From the Tree #Robin Benway #Rebecca Laughlin #Theadora Calligaris #The Inheritance Games #Jennifer Lynn Barnes #Alexander Vass #Colin Hyland #If We Were Villains #M.L. Rio #Delilah Green #Claire Sutherland #Delilah Green Doesn’t Care #Ashley Herring Blake #polls #lgbt books #queer book ship tournament

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despite-everything · 7 months

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the way the whole crew of the revenge are all stepping up now that izzy is gone as ed and stede stay behind. wow

#honestly i thought izzy was going to inherit the ship but i get it #im just wounded #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #tree talks

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atopvisenyashill · 13 days

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IF YOURE SANSA MANDERLY STARK

And you realize, after your uncle Edric dies, that your husband Jonnel is going to name not Edric’s son Cregard his new heir, but his other brother Barthogan as his heir. He is doing this specifically because “Cregan died after Rickon, so since Rickon wasn’t a Lord, it passes to Cregan’s next born son. Since Edric wasn’t a lord, it passes to Barthogan.” You are very mad because you and your sister Serena have been raising Cregard to rule and now you’re worried about her daughters, and her sons, and what becomes of you if Jonnel also dies, and you’re still mad you were passed over, so you decide “yeah fuck it i’m not just going to set myself up well, i’m going to make sure i have the ability to take the lordship, make myself ruling lady, and make things easier for a woman to inherit because now i’m pissed off”

What do you like. Do. Marrying all of Serena’s kids well is important but what would “marry well” mean. Someone rich and southron who comes with money & a household that is loyal to the two of you? Someone Northern, who will back your claim because they have a vested interest in you ruling? A mix of both?

You have to get the King on your side right. Have an in with him so if someone complains he’s like “well a daughter before an uncle blah blah blah.” You want LYANNA and HER husband on your side, and you want all of ALY BLACKWOOD’S daughters and THEIR HUSBANDS on your side because if your ultimate goal is ABSOLUTE PRIMOGENITURE you want the older sisters on your side right. You want the people of Winters Town to like you more than Barthogan and Jonnel. You want to do good things for them, so you want money (again - good marriages for Serena’s children). You want to be more competent or at least seem more competent. You probably want like….what Barthogan and Brandon like Not In Winterfell with you…….

#like you need Some Fighting Dudes and Some Money. that’s the most important.#i can’t wait to get she wolves of winterfell and have canon serena be nothing like the one in my mind akskskdk #getting on my soap box #this is why i want a book about nymeria and mors. Fuck the targaryens i want a short story about how Nymeria & Mors set things up #so their oldest daughter could inherit. was there a conflict? that she just like. won?#after this i’m gonna write a whole family tree for nymeria & mors aksksjdjdj #i’m also thinking about like. well the north could have it post canon bc there’s just no men.#they’re all dead. whomst is gonna stop them. and that’s different akskdkd #and obviously the iron islands are gonna lighten up under asha.#who knows WHATS cookin in the rest of westeros tho.#i mean IN CANON jeyne arryn faces a few usurpations so IF sansa & serena take it from barthogan.#they are probably gonna face some issues from him and brandon for a MINUTE right

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