In Oathbringer, the third volume of the New York Times bestselling Stormlight Archive, humanity faces a new Desolation with the return of the Voidbringers, a foe with numbers as great as their thirst for vengeance.
Dalinar Kholin’s Alethi armies won a fleeting victory at a terrible cost: The enemy Parshendi summoned the violent Everstorm, which now sweeps the world with destruction, and in its passing awakens the once peaceful and subservient parshmen to the horror of their millennia-long enslavement by humans. While on a desperate flight to warn his family of the threat, Kaladin Stormblessed must come to grips with the fact that the newly kindled anger of the parshmen may be wholly justified.
Nestled in the mountains high above the storms, in the tower city of Urithiru, Shallan Davar investigates the wonders of the ancient stronghold of the Knights Radiant and unearths dark secrets lurking in its depths. And Dalinar realizes that his holy mission to unite his homeland of Alethkar was too narrow in scope. Unless all the nations of Roshar can put aside Dalinar’s blood-soaked past and stand together―and unless Dalinar himself can confront that past―even the restoration of the Knights Radiant will not prevent the end of civilization.
Summary: After three months of heartbreak you go back to Kattegat only to find Ivar in a terrible stage of rage what almost costs you your life. Luckily love overcomes everything. Words: 1454
It was three months now … three months since you last saw Ivar, since
you last felt his lips against your skin, since you last saw those gorgeous
bleu eyes. He asked you then to come back as soon as possible but you couldn’t.
You were two weeks home when your father showed signs of sickness. He didn’t
get better and you couldn’t spare one moment to go to Kattegat, to see Ivar. Every
minute away from your father could mean a minute less spend with him. The first
month Ivar was permanent on your mind. But you forgot him a little bit when you
fathers gets more sick every day. His memory just faded away while you took
care of your father. Half the time you sat in tears besides his bed, praying to
the gods he would get throught this. But he didn’t, he died after nine weeks of
intensive sickness and you were left alone with a farm and nothing left to live
for. That day was the first day you thought of Ivar again. You imaged Ivar
sitting beside you on the bed, rocking you to sleep, wispering comfort words in
your ear. But when you opened your eyes he wasn’t there. He never looked for
you, visited you and you began to wonder if that one week with him was just a
Two weeks after the dead of your father you just began to wonder what
to do with your life. You couldn’t stay here,
not with all the memories and the
heartbreak. Even if you would, what should you do? Live a lonely life far from
any village? So you decided to travel back to Kattegat, to sell the farm of your
fahter and to look for something else. It wasn’t a happy future you thought of
but anything was better than staying in the farm, even becoming a slavegirl
sounded good enough. But the closer you get to Kattegat, the more tenser you
felt. What if you saw Ivar again? You were scared, scared of what he would say
or do when you paths crossed each other. For that reason you left the horse in
the woods and did the rest of the road on foot. With spring nearby it was
harder to cover your face from al the familiar faces you saw. Kattegat chanched
since you last were here. It was busier. More people, and more lookout points.
You saw some shield maidens in you walk through the village. The great Hall was
still as imposing as you recalled it to be. You looked from behind a wooden
pallet to the builing. Ubbe sat on the steps before, staring in the distant.
But that was not the only thing you saw. The great Hall had shield maidens in
front of it, on each side of Ubbe. Some part of you wanted to talk to him,
explain your abscent so he could prepare Ivar for it. But you were scared, even
for what Ubbe would say about it. All the confidence Ivar gave you had vanished,
you were that scared insecure girl again. So you left you possition, did the
things you came for and then went to the beach to watch the sunset.
At some point you must have fallen asleep cause when you waked up it
was dark … and Ivar sat right beside you. You startled and moved you body as
slowly as possible until you sat right in the sand. “Y/n.” He said with
clenched teeth. You heard the certain rage in his tone and held you eyes on the
sea, to scared to look at him. Would he understand if you explained? You
swallowed and let you head rest on your knees. “I can explain.” You began after
a couple minutes of silence. “Sure you can, how is life y/n, have kids already?”
The sarcasm in his voice maked you a little angry. “It’s not like that, I was,”
“My father died, murded by king Aella. My mother is killed by Lagertha.” He
spat the words in the sand and you looked in the other direction. Thats why
there were al those shield maidens, that was also maybe the reason he didn’t
came looking for you. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You reacted. What else could
you said? You felt his gaze on you but it took you several moments to look
back. And when you looked back you saw those blue eyes almost spitting fire.
His reaction on those words came so fast you had hardly the time to pull back.
His hand clutched your throat and he pressed you back in the sand. His face
hardly inches removed from yours. “I asked you to come back, I warned you for
what I could do.” His fingers didn’t lost grip. He wasn’t suffocating you …
yet. The tears rolled over your cheeks while your hand looked for some grip on
his. “I needed you.” He wispered angry against your cheek. “Please, Ivar, let
me explain.” You squeaked, looking for some air. “Why should I?” “My father
died to.” You threw out. He squeezed his eyes and lost his grip a little bit.
You gasped for air and rolled on you side while coughing. Why did he do this?
Was it anger, sadness? He almost killed you and yet you didn’t ran away.
You lay with you back towards him while you try to take control over
your crying body. It came all at once, the loss of your father, the love you
felt for Ivar, what he just did to you …
“Y/n.” He said softly. He laid his hand on your arm and slowly rolled you over
to your back again. “I’m sorry, I would never hurt you, I’m sorry, can you
forgive me?” He asked. You had your eyes closed and opened them carefull to
look at him. His anger was gone, in fact there was only sadness in his eyes
now. “Please y/n, I couldn’t bare to lose you to.” He pulled a loose strand of
hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek with his fingertips. “Don’t do that
again.” You replied while you wraped you arms around his neck and hides you
head against it. He pulled you as close as possible and embraced you for as
long as necesary. “I missed you Ivar, if I had a change to come I would but,” Your
words get lost for a moment. He pulled his head back en cupped your face with
one hand. “What happend?” He asked tenderly. “My father became ill, for nine
weeks and then he died.” You wispered through your tears. He wiped them
carefull away with his thumb before kissing you. On that moment you knew that
you never forgot him, that you missed him with all of your heart. You fingers
locked themselves in his hair, pressing your body so close you could to his. It
was the most intensive kiss you shared with him and it felt like everything was
on his place again. “I need you y/n.” He murmured against your lips. “I’m not
leaving again.” You reassured him. “Never?” He asked while kissing you again. “Never.”
“I leave next week for Engeland, will you come?” It was typical Ivar to ruin
sush a moment. You just said you wouldn’t leave him again, never, so your
options were limited. “If thats what you want.” You nodded. He smiled, a small
insecure smile. “I need to avenge my fathers dead.” “Than I will be there to
take care of you when you come back from battle.” You smiled a little shyly. “Do
you forgive me?” He asked, his eyes hurt by the idea of almost killing you. You
nodded, planted a kiss on his lips and nodded again. “I forgive you.” You
replied. He wraped an arm around you shoulder as you let your head rest on his
chest. You stared at the sea, the stars, enjoying the moment. You had so much
questions for him but didn’t want to ruin the moment of peace between you. “When
my father died I pretended you were there to comfort me.” You wispered while
looking back at him. “When my mother died I pretended the same thing.” “There
in Valhalla now, celebrating with good food, laughing and telling stories.” You
pussed yourself up on your elbows and looked down at Ivar. “You will avenge
your fathers dead Ivar, you will concure, I’m sure of that.” You said with a
strong voice, you believed in him. He maybe was a cripple but not in his mind. “With
you by my side I can overcome everything.” He said sofly, with a loving voice.
So … the end? Do you guys need more? Requests? I’m all ears. Hope you liked it, leave a comment if you do.
Mommy sat and cried, but Dad was unaffected. He said, “Have you ever had a better two minutes in the last three years?” We said, “But, Dad, the dumb horse lost!” He said, “Sometimes joy has a terrible cost. I know that.” Ma would scoff, she would scoff, hear her scoff. And they’re off! Yeah, they’re off! Mommy’s biting his neck as they roll on the deck And they’re off…
So you got elected. That’s a thing that actually happened.
You said you would make America great again.
I want you to come through on that.
I don’t know your policies. Not sure if you do. Your talking points are framed as negative comment followed by positive adjective. “Obamacare has cost Americans so much, and it’s terrible. We’re going to replace it with something much better!”
I need you to be specific. I need you to be thoughtful. I need you to think of all of us.
Because we are all watching.
You need to earn this.
Failing here doesn’t mean just declaring bankruptcy and closing the business. It means people lose. It means people die.
You are racist, sexist, misogynist, xenophobic,and wildly out of touch. I need you to be better than that. I need you to think of everyone under your charge.
Your platform was based on on building yourself up but on cutting your competitors down. You have no competitors now. You just have to perform.
so yeah the obvious reason why the left shouldn’t justify its policies for non-leftist reasons is that short-term justifications are slippery and can twist in your hands, and you don’t want to put effort into undermining your own ideology.
for example, say you justified an extensive recycling program on environment grounds, then later it turned out that it actually had a higher environmental cost than straight landfill- wait shit this is a terrible example let me come in again.
Things I Wish Weren't Left Out of the Band of Brothers Miniseries - part ii
Sometime before Easy Company jumped into Holland in September 1944, Joe Toye had a terrible breakdown that almost cost him his life.
He felt inadequate by his lack of education and literacy (he was forced to drop out of school at 15 to support his family). Malarkey found Toye “climbing out on the roof of an atrium.” Afraid of his intentions, Malarkey coaxed him back inside before Toye did anything drastic (the building was about 3 stories high)
Once back inside, Toye tearfully confided to Malarkey about his childhood. Poor guy 💔
We are the darkness that envelope the night. We are the generation of children who know more about depression and less about deceptions. We are the chisel and we are the stone. We are the statue that was carved from the bone. We are afraid of the light because we fear it has more demons than there is after twilight.
We understand too much and too little. We are afraid to be real. Being real costs a terrible pain and we are afraid of minute pricks. We prefer being heartless than being heartbroken. We are cowards but also we are the bravest the world has ever seen.
We fight inner battles and now we are always tired. We always have dark circles like scars that never fades. We use concealers and we use a mask. We are the best actors and Oscar is like a dust on the mattress.
We are meant to be the toughest. We are the children of devastation and still we come out undeterred. We are our own anthem and unheard songs.
We are the voice of desolation and we always outlive those at last.
Hello there boys and girls! Did you know? Writing is a very CREATIVE way of expressing your FEELINGS! Let’s try it together!
Love Letters is a Sketchpad+Shrignold fusion who likes to encourage students to write out their feelings and c o n f e s s t h e i r s i n s.
They spend most of their lessons trying to tease out secret feelings from their victims and encouraging them to write everything down, even their most terrible thoughts. Even the thoughts they didn’t think they had. Even the ones they most certainly didn’t have until LL started to meddle and pry and persuade them.
But, not to worry. LL is a good friend who keeps secrets. If only at the cost of them knowing what terrible people their victims are. Privately.
They also devour and store away discarded and scribbled out papers and letters. The more emotionally charged the letters are, the more frenzied LL becomes.
They are very sweet and always smiling. A teacher and a friend.
Their “weapon” is just a letter opener, and the text on the back of their “wings” is always changing whenever they open and shut.
okay yes there needs to be a Phillip protection squad, but there needs to be a Lukas protection squad as well! The struggle of a teen to be closeted in a small town is absolutely terrible and Lukas needs to be protected at all cost too
i wake up this morning after a work out on tuesday then yesterday, body full of DOMS and barely able to move and walk, and know i have another work out tonight, and all i can think is “why the fuck am i not 130lbs yet so i can quit this shit?”
So after watching Nashville last night, I have thoughts about Juliette & Avery. Jonathan Jackson himself said that Avery has never loved anyone as much as he loves Juliette and I say “loves” because he still loves her. But this whole Layla thing is a way for him to run away from his feelings. In no way do I think they’ll last. I think he likes her, as he said, as much as you can like someone you’ve just recently begun hanging out with, but his heart? Juliette has it. She has always had it and she will always have it. By no means am I saying he should just say “Okay, lets try again.” just like that. Absolutely not. I think the hell she has put him through warrants a lot more than that….but lets not forget Juliette was going through her own hell, within herself. Because of that, she did terrible things. It cost her the people she loves most, Avery & Cadence. She has to WORK for them. Their moments of pure bliss to their moments of pure and utter despair, there’s no denying their love for each other. They are endgame. From the very first episode of Nashville, when they bumped into each other, THAT is where is started and it shall remain and end with them and I’m here for watching their journey back to each other so that they can finally be the family they both deserve.
Title: For the Rest of Our Lives Fandom: Marvel Word Count: 900 Characters: Peter Maximoff x Reader Reader Gender: Not specified Warnings: Mentions of a car wreck, and very slight mentions of death. Notes: Request from @chibi-vampire for “Can you do a soulmate peter maximoff x reader fic with the wrist clocks that countdown but the readers is broken so when they meets peter they refuses to belive he is their soulmate because their clock is still counting down?” // I have a dislike for AUs, but yes, yes I can, lovely. ☺ Also, I changed it a bit, hope you don’t mind. ♥
The thing you desired most in life was to find your soulmate. In theory, that shouldn’t be hard; everyone was born with a clock on their wrists, which counted down to the moment they would meet their partner. Yours had worked fine for the majority of your life, but three years ago, you were in a terrible car crash – one that costed you your life. You were declared dead for three full minutes. When you woke up, your clock had reverted back to the time it had been when you were born, and it never moved again. Eventually, you accepted that your chances of finding your soulmate were less than slim to none, so you gave up. You tried your best to not let it bother you, but it was on your mind every single day. The frozen clock on your wrist was an ever-present reminder of the fact that you would be alone for the rest of your life. You waited in line for the movie you were going to see – alone, as usual. You could hear the chatter of a small group of people behind you, which you tried to ignore, but you grew bored and decided to eavesdrop. “Just relax, Peter,” a young woman said. “I’m sure whoever it is is just as nervous as you are.” “What if they don’t even want to meet me? Maybe they’re perfectly happy being alone, and all the excitement I’ve felt my entire life has just been a complete waste?” a man replied, sounding panicky. “Everyone wants to meet their soulmate, dude. Don’t sweat it,” another man said. “Seriously, man, quit sweating. You’re gonna reek by the time you meet ‘em.” The man who had spoken before groaned and shakily breathed, “Fifteen seconds…” before leaning back against the nearby wall. Unfortunately, he lost his footing, causing him to fall straight into you. The two of you fell to the ground in a heap. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he said, helping you up. He had shoulder-length silver hair, and wore a silver leather jacket, jeans, and a band T-shirt. You muttered a clearly annoyed “It’s fine,” before beginning to dust yourself off and straighten your clothes. When you looked back up, he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. “You’re… you’re… I didn’t… I’m so sorry, I didn’t think… I didn’t know…” he began stammering, his voice barely above a whisper. “What the hell are you on about?” you asked, eying him suspiciously. You were mildly concerned that the fall had given him a concussion. He continued stammering, attempting to find the words, but he eventually gave up and just held up his arm. You saw that the numbers on his wrist read “00:00:00:00:00:00,” indicating that the years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds had run out on his clock. Oh, God, he thinks I’m his soulmate, you realized. With a sigh and a shake of your head, you held your own wrist up. It still read “28:03:12:05:27:45.” “That’s not right,” the man said disbelievingly. “That can’t be right.” “She died in a car wreck three years ago. They brought her back to life, but her clock reverted to the time it said when she was born, and froze,” the redheaded woman standing behind him spoke up. You raised one eyebrow at her. “I’m Jean, and I’m a mutant. So is your soulmate, Peter,” she explained, gesturing towards the silver-haired man. “He’s not my soulmate. If he were, my clock wouldn’t still be frozen,” you said, shrugging slightly. “Sorry to disappoint.” “He is your soulmate, but your clock will remain broken, unless…. Could you give me your arm for a second?” You placed your hand into Jean’s outstretched hand. The young man behind her with strange red sunglasses peered nosily over her shoulder. She placed her palm over your clock, and when she removed her hand, it read “00:00:00:00:00:00.” Alarmed, you jerked your hand away from her, staring at the numbers. “How do I know you didn’t just force all the numbers to be zero?” you inquired incredulously, still gazing down at your wrist. “Honestly, I don’t even think I could do that if I wanted to. I only repaired the clock,” Jean explained, then turned to the sunglasses-clad man and whispered, “C’mon, Scott, let’s give them some privacy,” and pulled him away. “So, uh… can we, like… should we hug, or something?” You looked up and saw Peter awkwardly standing there, and you noticed he was fidgeting. A smile broke out on your face and, without even thinking, you pulled him down to your height by the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his. You heard a few people clapping happily; they all knew that such a reaction typically only occurred between newfound soulmates. After a few minutes, you two slowly pulled away from one another and Peter rested his forehead against yours. “I don’t even know your name,” he stated with a breathless laugh. “Y/N,” you said, smiling. “Y/N,” Peter repeated with a matching smile. “Well, Y/N, can I ask you something?” “Anything.” “Can we do that again?” You grinned, and wrapped your arms around Peter’s shoulders. He immediately wrapped his around your torso, pulling you closer to him. “Every day for the rest of our lives.”