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girlactionfigure · 4 months

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I had to backup quite a ways, because understanding the Arab Israeli conflict without the wider context of the Cold War makes no sense.

Yeah, so, after World War 2, the former big swinging dick countries of the world were too stressed out to manage any of their colonies. So they threw up their hands and walked away. Power hating a vacuum, the US was prevailed upon to take over, though having an empire seemed like a lot of bother to us. Meanwhile, the Soviet Union was sucking countries close to them into their stupid-ass idea that if we all pool our resources and sing Kum-By-Ya, everyone will get rich. This idea was invented by a Joo, Karl Marx, number one crime of the Joos of all time.

I could go on for a bit about how stupid this idea was, but let's just throw out the tidbit that they didn't have any weekends for 11 years.

One of the things the British "owned" was this area formerly "owned" by the Ottoman empire, that had about 17 different names. Because the British Foreign office was a hot-bed of the flavor of anti-semitism that believes Joos were secretly running the world, they felt if they proposed this area as a "homeland" for the Joos, the secret masters, the Joos would favor them. (See The Peace to End All Peace, a boring ass book, but explains a lot of why the Middle East is all screwed up.)

So after WW2, there were a bunch of Joos and some Arabs living in this area.

In the meantime, the Arab nations in the Area, annoyed at the presence of these Joos on their doorstep, looked at their own Joos and said "See Ya, oh and leave all your shit behind, so we can give it to some of the Arabs after we take our cut". Some more Joos came from Europe, but not as much as you might think. They said See Ya to some of their own Arabs too, but the Arabs got to keep their stuff, and got some of the Joos stuff (I'm a little fuzzy on where the Palestinians came from exactly, but it seems like everyone is.) It was sort of the reverse of Exodus where the Joos are leaving Egypt and the Egyptians give them a bunch of stuff to get them to leave faster, except this time it was the Joos giving stuff to the Arabs.

The Joos and the Arabs didn't like the British being in charge, so they started doing shitty things to each other, and the British. The British had at that point decided that "owning" this particular patch of dirt wasn't worth it, it was a bunch of desert with no resources, except this one spot that had a magic rock that someone touched, but you had to leave the magic rock there.

So they went to the UN, the newly formed revision of the League of Nations, and said "Hey, get us out of here". So the UN came up with a plan that gave most of the Arabs in the area most of the land. The Arabs in the area didn't like the deal, because they figured they could kill all the Joos when no one was looking. Except at this point, the local Joos were pretty stubborn and pissed off at being robbed by Syria, Egypt, Saudi Arabic, etc., and they had an influx of Joos from Europe, so you can imagine that "pissed off Joos, willing to die where they stood" versus a bunch of spoiled Arabs who had been told "Just go over there, and we'll give you free stuff", didn't go so well for the Arabs.

So the British leave, the Joos take over after killing a few Arabs, and they declare independence. The US got on the Israel side early, because we're suckers for folks that say "Hey, we want to be a democracy like you, you're our hero.". Israel gets invaded by all the Arab nations around her, and fights them back, because they're all pretty grumpy, and they feel cornered.

Meanwhile, the Soviet Union, they want to get people on their side. They don't really care about truth, because if they cared about truth, they'd have to admit this idea of Karl Marx, the Joo, wasn't working out so well. Turns out when everyone pools their resources, well, who decides how to divide it up? Also, they didn't believe in God, so they were obviously not very observant.

So the Soviets want the Arab nations on their side, so they went up to the Arab nations and said "Hey, the US is on Israel's side, we want you to be on our side, we'll sell you weapons and stuff, those US folks are colonialist, they just want more colonies." This sounded good to the Arabs, not realizing that as hard core atheists, the Soviets had no shame about lying. So the Soviet Union traded some obsolete weapons to the Arabs, told them they were the best weapons ever, and got the Arabs to give them cash.

Ironically, in the meantime, Israel starts transforming large swatches of the desert into usable land, by organizing farms around a system very similar to that Joo Karl Marx's idea, but it was local, tied to a single extended family, and didn't extend to the whole country, just one farm. The Joos from Europe who went to the US instead of Israel send them money, which helps, though that's strictly voluntary and unofficial. But American's like people who work hard so they even get some money from non-Joos in America.

The Arabs get some money too, from the other Arabs, but mostly their leaders steal it.

Time passed, eventually the Arabs got bored or something and decided to invade Israel again. Or maybe, the Soviet Union encouraged them? I dunno, never made much sense to me. I was a baby, don't remember.

Meanwhile, the Soviet Union had recruited a prominent Egyptian, Yasser Arafat, living among the Arabs in Israel. Having a real sense of history would be too confusing to get the Israeli Arabs to rally behind, so the KGB, past masters of making shit up, came up with this whole imaginary history for the Palestinians so that Arafat, despited being from Egypt, could claim history in Israel, and so the Palestinians could whine about how mistreated they were.

The Arabs learned the hard way "buy American" when their fighter planes wouldn't work because the planes the Russians had sold them actually needed a part they stole from America, because they couldn't make it themselves. So after 6-days, the second war was over.

The imaginary history the KGB had written stuck around, even though Arafat eventually died as we all must someday. It's taught to Palestinians so they can feel properly victimized and oppressed. Though its easily disproved if you browse around Wikipedia for a bit, with a skeptical mind.

Did that help?

#Israel #KGB #palestine #History

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melanieph321 · 3 months

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 3/8

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacation in Dubai she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the middle east looking for her.

Enjoy!

"Hmmn. No speedos in sight." You observed the beach from left to right.

"Maybe you were thinking of Brazil?" Alicia said, appearing beside you. "Yeah, that must be it. Brazil. "

You shrugged, happy nevertheless. It was a beautiful day, no clouds in sight, the sun hot against your skin. You wore a sundress to Alicia's frustration. However, it was not worth getting burned again.

"So where are the guys. They told us to meet them here, no?"

"I dunno?" You said. Perhaps they were running late.

"Found them." Alicia shirped.

"Where?"

She turned your shoulders for you to look in the right direction. What you saw made your cheeks burn more than the sun did. It was Ruben, Fabio and Theo, all sweaty playing a game of beach volleyboll.

"Ladies, you made it!" They stopped the game, to their opponents dissatisfaction. They were playing against children, really small children. "Y/N, you're here, at the beach." Ruben approached you with a brimming smile on his face. He wore no shirt only swim trunks. Never had you seen so many outlined abs on such fare skin. His body tanned easly.

"Yes, no speedos in sight." You joked, trying to play it cool. However it was difficult, seeing as Ruben was checking you out. Sure, your sundress hid more skin than a bikini, but it did nothing to hide your curves, and the fact that you wore no bra.

"You look..."

"Warm." You smiled, cutting Ruben off from complementing you. He chuckled.

"Yeah, that's the word I was looking for, hot. You look hot."

You shook your head at his smugness, it was silly, but tempting.

"So, do you girls want to join us?" Theo asked, raising the volleyboll in his hand. "In that case it will be you guys against me and my nephews." He turned to the children who looked displeased to have their game interrupted by two females.

"Um, I think we'll pass." Alicia said, dragging you with her to where the taning beds were.

"Did you see how fit he was?"

"Who, Ruben?"

"Yeeees. You should definitely climb that."

"Pardon?"

Alicia giggled, rubbing sunscreen on her legs. "You know, tap that."

"Alicia. English please." You demanded.

She rolled her eyes. "You should fuck him Y/N. How long has it been since you had sex? And don't...." She said, seeing as you were about to protest. "Don't count that little rendezvous you had with your coworker Byron."

"First of all, he was not my coworker when we...you know. I wouldn't do such a thing."

"Oh please. Save that for whoever caught his head between your legs, which by the way, is your current boss."

"Again." You said, fueling Alicia's laughter. "None of us worked together back then. We were all still in university."

"Funny how life works." Alicia held her flat stomach to ease her spasms. "The three of you, now working at the same school." One might think she would die from laughing so hard.

"Yeah yeah, very funny."

"Oh come on, don't be mad. All I'm saying is that if you have the chance to fuck a hot rich guy, take it. Ruben is both of those things."

You chuckled in response as the two of you fell back against your taning beds. There was a marina up ahead. With boats the size of houses.

"Imagine being on one of those." You dreamed.

Alicia nodded. "I would definitely fuck a old rich guy for that."

"I suppose." You grimarced. Alicia always had a strange way of seeing things.

"Oh my god, look!"

"What?" You sat up, raising your sunglasses to see better.

"That one."

Alicia was pointing towards one of the smaller fleets. A yacht named Deria. "Check out the flag." She said, reffering to the one waving on top of a mast. You recognized it as the flag of the UAE. As a kindergarten teacher you knew most of the flags of the world, it came with the job. Alicia however, only knew of this particular flag because you had spotted it every where in Dubai.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She said, raising the usual concern within you.

"No."

She stood. "Come on, let's ask if they'll take friends of Muhammed Siddiq for a boat right."

Apperently the Siddiq family was known all over the middle east, especially in Dubai. After a brief phone call, the crew was happy to have you Alicia, Ruben Fabio and Theo on their boat. Theo's nephews were happy to come along too.

"Again, tell me what you do for a living?" Ruben asked, once all of you were on the boat, somwhere in the middle of the sea.

"You know...." You said, trying to snort the question away. However, you and Ruben were alone at that moment, making it hard for you not to give him a straight answer. And so you lied. "I have a consultant company that deals with clients all over the world."

Ruben raised a brow, impressed by the fact.

"Yeah. I guess you can say that I'm a busy woman."

"Not too busy, I hope?"

Ruben leaned over the boat railing, enjoying the view of both the ocean and.... "I really like you Y/N. I hope that we can...."

You were interrupted by sudden commotion on the top deck of the boat.

"It's Remy." Theo said.

Ruben and you had rushed upstairs to find everyone surrounding Theo and one of his nephews. The boy looked pale, struck by a sudden seasickness.

"He has never been on a boat before. His mother won't let him." Theo said, voice shaking. "I didn't know it was because...."

"Hey, it's okay." Ruben stepped forward calming his friend.

A sudden instict within you kicked in. Quickly you rushed to be by the boy's side, swooping in to care for him. Everyone even gave you the space to do it. The crew adviced you to stay on the top deck whilst they turned the boat back to shore. And so you did, the boys head resting in your lap to the slow movments of the ship.

"Mamãe." He groaned.

"Shhh." It's gonna be okay."

You stroked his head to calm him down. He closed his eyes, allowing you to go on. The sun was setting in the sky to a low summer breeze. As you gently held his head and offered him a cold compress, you felt a presence behind you. It was Ruben, admiring the way you were soothing his friends nephew by telling him random facts about earth. Facts he probably didn't understand, since they were all in english. Nevertheless, the purpose was to be patient and nurturing, and it was clear that the boy felt safe and comforted in your arms.

"You have children of your own, no?" Ruben asked.

You turned your head and smiled. "I just want to make him feel better."

He nodded understandingly, slightly annoyed that you didn't answer his question. He approached, plotting down beside you.

"You're good with children."

"Thanks."

"Do you have any of your own?"

Yes, twenty of them.

"No. But someday."

He nodded. "How many do you want?"

It was cute, how serious he seemed with these questions. You chuckled. "I guess as many as my husband decides to put inside of me."

Ruben's eyes widened, his gaze shifting to the boy asleep in your lap. "You're kidding?"

"Not really." You shrugged. "It all comes down to that, no? How many children a man wants to put inside of a me. I mean how many babies would you like to put in a woman?"

He blushed, regretting having gotten you into this topic. But then his face stilled, his expression confident, eyes piercing yours. "It depends on the woman."

You gasped, but not because of what he said and how it made your insides errupt. "I wasted our night." You said, in a sudden realization.

Ruben's expression faltered, but did not look disappointed at you. "You'll give me your number, no?"

"Sure." You mumbled, wanting to give him more than that.

"Hey." He raised your chin, seeing as it fell. "I'll see you again, no?"

His face, it looked so handsome in the pink son. That's what you did what you did. That's why you leaned forward and kissed him, although Ruben's hand under your chin was already brining you towards his lips.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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papirouge · 5 months

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I gave up on being pro life publicly and online. The genocide in the Congo and in Gaza have proved it to me that many western women who run those pro life accounts don’t care for children. Many babies have been lost due to hospital bombings. More children are displaced with no families.

I’ve tried reaching out when they talk about saving children in generic posts because very real babies are losing their lives by IDF terrorism. And I get blocked or I get told “that’s different/ they’re Muslim/they should have left already/I don’t care” over and over and over again. The countless videos are already out that have children begging and crying for their families they lost or the homes that can’t be saved. Some of the worst messages I read criticized and blame the Palestinian men too that they should be protecting the kids, so when they die, it’s actually Palestinians fault. Not the IDF. Meanwhile those “young men” are just teenagers because their parents are dead. The Congolese topic is worst. Many are begging people to stop buying the iPhone 15 to raise awareness over the issues there but I got told by one girl who likes to call herself an anti woke submissive wife that she couldn’t care less about the Congo, she’s going to do whatever her husband wants, if that means ignoring genocide then that’s what she will do too. It’s her god given to have freedom over dead bodies l…

I’m fed up. I’m sick of the hypocrisy. I’m sick of seeing stupid homestead content of how they’re at peace taking care of a home as they purposefully condone genocide. If some hacker group exposed all these “submissive Godly trad wife” accounts as being agents for Israel to distract the west from IDF war crimes, I wouldn’t be surprised the least. Their apathy is demonic

@not-your-average-prolifer is the only pro life blog who passed the vibe check as far as I know. She reblogged posts about the emergency of pregnant women in Palestine and also post about mental health of middle east women. I think she is left leaning (correct me if I'm wrong!) so I'm not surprised to see her with more empathy about whatever's happening to women abroad, unlike Conservatives who are extremely stupid & uneducated when it comes to foreign affairs, if not straight up xenophobic.

I hope for every single Christian I know to never open their mouth about uwu Christianism is from Middle east uwu ever again the next time someone calls Christianism white man's religion or I'll go berserk on them. They better shut up forever. They had no problem to keep their mouth shut witnessing the martyrdom of our brothers - they better keep it that way permanently and stop summoning their struggle once it's convenient to them. YES, they proved they definitely consider Christianism a white man thing, considering our little care they have for our (non white) Christian brothers overseas. They better keep them out of their mouth permanently.

"They're Muslim" it's been well documented that there are Christians in Palestine. But even if they weren't, Christ wants everyone to be saved and accept him as their lord and savior - refusing to extend some basic empathy to people being bombed and killed in their sin is not the way to go. Never forget that Jesus didn't heal or saved only Jews, but also pagans, prostitutes, etc. It's insane how so unemphatic "Christians" have become.

Christian Palestinians are actually some of the oldest Christians - like, where do they those idiots think Jerusalem was?? where did the Pentecost happen? IN MIAMI?? KANSAS?? "They should have left" WHERE?? aren't the ppl pulling out this argument the same crybabies whining about woke culture destroying western civilization? Why didn't they leave the western zone already??? Also aren't they the same against immigration and how men fleeing their country are lazy cowards? so why are they mad at Palestinians sticking to their land?? Damn, Western politicians/diplomacy have the opportunity to do the funniest thing possible and mass import Palestinians in western countries to abide Zionists requirements in Israel 💀

And LOL oh so now Palestinian men are supposed to protect children? what are they supposed to do when the IDF is bombing their house? Take weapons to defend/get back their land and shit? Oh my bad, that makes them terrorists (and let's be clear : what happened on October 7th is unjustifiable but let's not act like the Hamas wasn't called terrorist much earlier than that). It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't. If they do nothing, they're cowards, and if they do, they are terrorists - because in this case, resistance is defiance. Ultimately they just want to deflect from their own lack on empathy and find a rational explanation to that.

Conservative scrotes are the LAST people who should lecture anyone about defending the children when there are acting bullying kids young enough to be their grandchildren calling them wokes, leftists, or whatever. I won't even start about gun violence and how deflective they are about protecting the children only to protect their precious right to carry. Ghouls. They only care abt unborn babies because they are unable to call them out on their bs yet. Once they do, they'll cuss them, call them woke, and all sort of -ists.

On TikTok there was a Christian girl saying how Christians are "too emotional" and how we should keep supporting "God chosen people" (Israel). I already made a post calling out how this "god chosen people " narrative didn't stand now that we were in the NEW COVENANT. But let's follow her train of thought: isn't humankind made from God image? Where do emotions come from? Didn't God himself have emotion? Why? What's the right or wrong place to have emotion? She and all the clown who agreed with her would never be able to reply those questions. We've all seen the videos. I did what I could to avoid them but they're quite unavoidable at this point. What's the correct emotion after seeing 2 kids younger than 10 carrying a third one crying while one of his foot was hanging with only one tendon?? This girl, along with every single Christian unmoved by this disaster has to shut up. Their heart is a stone and they should stop trying to lecture people who still have a heart made of flesh. We're not the same. Christ is PEACE. Not war or violence.

And girl, you really shouldn't even engage with women labelling themselves "anti woke submissive wife" 💀 why would you expect them to care about anything but their idol (husband)? Stay focus on what really matters. Peace and God. We're in the end times and God is slowly but surely unfolding the truth. The masks are slipping. Take note of all the so called who remained silent witnessing satan action, take proper action, and go on.

#answered #Christian

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

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bejeweled

jacaerys velaryon x cinderella!reader

(south asian/east asian coded reader)

a/n: reader's description is not detailed much so u can read this regardless of race, but the reader is heavily inspired by bridgerton's Edwina Sharma vibes<3

warnings: NSFW (minors dni!!), child neglect (?)

°°°°

“Familiarity breeds contempt,

don't put me in the basement

when I want the penthouse of your heart”

•••••

Your hands were rough from washings and scrubbing, yet despite all the hardenings of your will throughout the years, your heart remains soft, an abandoned house neatly waiting for the right householder to enter and brush of it's dusts and polish you whole again.

Tonight you will attend the royal ball hosted by the Queen Rhaenyra in honor of the prince Jacaerys' 9 and 10th name day. You've brought out your prettiest dress and ironed it last night, it wasn't much but it's there.

The burden of today's chores felt lightened as you fantasize of what's to come tonight, not that you were expecting anyone to notice you there, but the idea of being in an actual palace and to blend with such crowd excited you nonetheless.

The sound of laughter and chatter of your sisters started to die down into a nervous silence, you hear Katya's footstep nearing you.

"what the fuck is this?" Her voice sharp, making you flinch. You rise up from the soapy bathroom floor to look at her, holding up your pink floral dress.

"That's my dress. For tonight." You explained with a nervous smile. this wasn't going to end well.

Her eyes widened and she scoffed loud. "Sweetheart, you're not going tonight. Who do you think will have to clean the basement and polish our shoes?" She asks with fake sympathy.

"no-I- I've already cleaned the basement this morning, and everyone's shoes is polished, you can see for yourself".

her mocking look turns angry as she lunges at you gripping your left wrist. "Listen to me you dog, you will not attend tonight's ball with your pathetic excuse of a dress and worn out boots like some farmer and embarass us." She seethed in your face.

Katya had always been the meanest of two of your stepsister's, but her aggressiveness has never not caught you off guard.

You could do nothing but nod, too stunned, trying to break free of her hold on your arm.

She releases you finally and lifts the dress up, an devious look in her eyes as she scans it.

"Safiya." she calls out to her sister who was already descending the staircase. "Gods, is that what you're wearing? Not judging, just try not to talk to me the whole night I guess?" The younger of the two teases, pushing off her auburn bangs behind.

"No you fool." Katya snapped. "It's the girl's. She thinks she has a chance to go with us tonight" She giggled out. Safiya mouth twisted into a mocking shape of trying to hold in her own laughter. She snorted out loud and snatched the dress from her sister.

"Did you make this, [name]?" You nod feeling yourself tremble as you squeeze your fingers together.

"hm"

Her hand reaches the middle of the dress and rips through the fabric.

"NO!" You bursted out, tears exploding as you try to grasp through your dress, being held back by Katya.

"Why not? it's not like you'll need it anyways, you're not leaving this house" She laughed out continuing to pull out the golden beads woven into the dress.

Katya pushed you off and you fell alongside the ruined dress that was later thrown on you.

They side eyed you and slammed the door as they left and all hope died that moment.

The house of your heart feels like it's lost it's key and you're banging on the door for someone to break through to help you break free. Nothing's ever worked in your favor, as if the gods had simply forgotten you were there and now you're lost to navigate a fate-less life.

°°°°

When your father died, you had promised him to protect your little sister Sanjhanaa at all cost. That oath was forced to be broken when she has contracted the fast spreading fever.

You weren't just truly alone to the mercy of the wolves, but even the memories of her and your mother was ripped from you. Your stepmother and sisters had repainted and redid everything in your house, throwing out every remainding object that had belonged to your family. You weren't even allowed to sleep in your own room or your sister's.

No, they had made you sleep in the kitchen by the cinder. A cruel joke.

You were tired of their jokes. You'll show them you know how to have a good time to, They aren't the only ones with such wicked humour.

It's been 20 minutes since they've left the house, the sky already dark, you were sure now you're alone as you push out a small box under broken staircases in the basement.

Your mother's wedding dress was still in tact. A vibrant rose gold colour with embroided roses and wovened diamonds on the stunning lehenga dress.

Mother has always been such a tall woman, I wonder if it'd be too big for me.

The lehenga fit you as if you were born to wear it. Your feet was covered by the fabric as you're still much shorter than your mother but the build of it had complimented your shape and the colours, your skin.

You feel the urge to cry then, to sob your lungs out. Do I deserve this? such memorable piece of garment for a night out in 17 years I've been alive? Does this pleasure and thrill I feel in this dress something I deserve?,

You brushed off your anxiety and tears then.

Enough is enough, you had let them take everything from you. This is the one thing they can only have over your dead body. The hope that still burns in you.

You smash through the locks of the door with a hammer and push the door open.

The moon was bright tonight, as if accompanying you for your little journey. You hold your dress up and you walk as fast as you can with you toe opened slippers towards the palace of your dreams.

°°°°

As much as this celebration was meant got his birthday, he also knew it's just a farce. This whole thing was set up for him to find a w future wife. The Ballroom was filled with lords and ladies from various honorable houses, ready to present themselves at his mother's feet. Jacaerys would do his best to find a match worthy of his family, but so far they've all been ass kissing cunning self benefitter presenting themselves to him.

He wants an alliance that would care for the name of his house as much as their own. After all, his future wife would be his future queen, he would not repeat his grandsire's mistake.

He excuses himself from the current lord trying to persuade him to get to know his daughters, claiming to feel a bit sick, he rushes out the garden to get some air.

He loses the buttons on his coat with red and blue colours, golden embroidery of dragons woven in, the colours of house Targaryen and Velaryon as one.

As he's about to walk in he stops at a halt, noticing a person by the side of the entrance, peeking inside.

She was dressed in such bright colours of pink and dazzling sparkles and beads decorating it. He's never seen a dress so uniquely made, nor has he seen anyone so beautifully created.

The girl had her hair up in messy braids, neatly placed despite not so intricately put.

She seems to be waiting for someone, or something, not entering the feast inside.

He notices her shaking legs and nervous eyes and decided to give it a go.

"Waiting for someone?" His voice louder than intended and he cursed himself in his head for that as she jumps, startled.

She doesn't say anything and just shook her head at him.

"Then why aren't you inside? You must be cold in such weather, come one-" He offers her his arm and a warm smile, hoping it'd calm her down.

She looked at him like she's never see another human being before. And he couldn't tell I he was wary or curious of her, perhaps both. Either way, he intended to get to know her.

She slowly lets their arms tangle and walk inside with him.

No one noticed them at first, and no doubt it would make her uncomfortable when they did, with such awkward being she is, he thought.

"I haven't gotten your name, It would do me great pleasure to know so, if you wouldn't mind" he asks her.

°°°

You give him your name, trying with all your might to hide the nervousness in you voice. A failure it seemed when your voice squeaked and he beamed at you.

You weren't stupid, even if you haven't been out for years except for groceries, you had recognize the colours in his clothes, he was a Velaryon prince and the son of the queen Rhaenyra.

When you prayed for a handsome face for the night and a pair of nice shoes, you didn't think your wishes would be responded with the prince walking hand in hand with you in the ball while you're in your mother's wedding lehenga.

Every step you take since you've walked in the palace had been a dream, one you've never imagines yourself to be in.

The prince had been patient with your shyness, inquiring you of your house name and family. You told him nothing of lies, For you came without expectations, you didn't need to reach some sort of one for the night.

He seems confused when you told him your house name but doesn't question anything.

"I'm not a good dancer I fear" You speak out softly when he asks u for a dance. He jist shrugged grinning from ear to ear.

"me neither, guess we'll figure it out together."

You were so distracted with trying not to stomp on his feet and laughing through the dance you hadn't realized people were switching partners. He wouldn't let you dance with anyone else though.

"You're a fast learner I'd say, faster than me at least, I mean I've been doing this for 15 years and yet-"

His words was cut off as he felt a presence behind him taking him off guard.

Your smile slipped off completely, replaced by a guarded look. He notices how your fingers tighten over his.

°°°°

How in hell did you forgot your stepsisters and stepmother was here.

They masked their rage with charming smiles, introducing themselves to the prince, as your family.

The prince Jacaerys had a suspicious expression as he brush it off and politely exchange niceties with them.

"I would, like to have a word with my daughter if you will, my prince " Your stepmother requests. "Of course, I'll be here waiting " He nods for you to be excused.

So he's expecting you to come back to him then.

As your stepmother's grip on your hand bruises, your heart beats fast with fear of what she'd do to you.

"What the fuck, were you thinking?" She seethed, backing you into a wall, her eyes throwing daggers.

"I just wanted to have one night out, one ni-"

"Well you got it, That's fucking it. If you think I'll ever let you out of my sight after this than think again you brat." She snapped at you. You could feel your eyes fill again.

All the hazy fantasy of the night had broke it's magic on you, reality hits and you realize this was it.

You nod vigorously knowing better than to fight her.

As she pushes you away, telling you to enjoy the night while it lasted, you wipe your tears off with your knuckles and fix your composure to walk back towards your prince.

What a sight to be seen, His hands on Katya's, Their feet moves with the beat and how she gracefully moves them, never once stepping on his shoes.

Your breath hitched and you slowly move step by step behind before he notices you and run out to through the entrance you had entered from before.

As the moonlight lights up the garden you sit in, You let yourself drown in the sobs you've been holding in the whole night.

You reminded yourself this was what you wanted, and this is what you got. Of course they'd see you and of course he would forget you as soon as he saw your stepsisters.

You were only the sky for their stars to lay place on, the staircase they use to ascend. A background character in everyone's story, even your own.

You find yourself alert as you hear rushing footsteps towards you and immediately rush to dab the redness of your face off.

He calls out your name breathless like he's been running and sighed relieved when you look back at him acknowledging him and sits next to you at the bench.

"I thought I lost you there [name]" He says with the adorable smile of his.

His look of joy turned into worry when he notices how blue you looked. He places one arm on your shoulder and the other holding your chin to look at him. "What happened?"

You try to pull his hand off but he only brought your face closer. "Nothing-"

"No it's something, what happened, what did she say- It was her wasn't it?" His concern unwavering as he pushes you to speak.

"I- it's fine, She's just upset, I wasn't supposed to be here tonight, I disobeyed her." Your voice becomes lower and you look away from his eyes.

Understanding slowly filled him. "You're not her daughter really aren't you?"

When you nod he lets out a heavy breath. "I knew the lord had remarried but I couldn't tell if you were his from the first wife or the second- well" You didn't say anything, giving him time to let everything sink in.

"You don't have to tell me anything, but whatever she's doing to you, she shouldn't have that kind of hold over you. I'm taking you to my mother, we'll figure it out and-"

Your head snaps at his direction and your eyes widen horrified as you push him off and stood up.

"No- Wha- why would you do that?" You asked bewildered. "Why wouldn't I?"

Your confusion only increases. "This is my fate my prince, You don't have to try and save me like I'm some damsel-" getting your point, he cuts you off just as fast.

"I'm not trying to save you, I'm not doing this for you either. I'm doing this for me because as much as I see myself an honorable man, my selfishness wins this round againts my sense of duty, the whole night I'm pressured to find someone I'm willing to put through a life of loveless marriage and political schemes,

-but I want none of that. I want you. From the moment I saw you through the entrance, and I want all that comes with you, be it if the only parts of yourself you'll let me have is your stubbornness, I'll take what I can get and I'll give anything you ask of me."

His rant was so loud you weren't suprised if the whole palace had heard him, His chest was heaving from his long ramble and his hand hold yours refusing to let them go in fear you'll leave.

You couldn't if you want to, your feet was failing you as much as your words.

You could only stare at him.

And when his hand moves from your palms to your cheek, you let him pull your face to him, closing his mouth to yours.

His lips tasted like wine and grapes and you push yours deeper to taste more of him.

Your eagerness has him groaning into the kiss as his hands move to your waist and your bodies melt into eachother.

He sucks your bottom lip making you gaso and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue inside your mouth meeting yours.

You've never kissed a man, hesitantly you copy his movements, letting your tongue fight with his.

He has you backed away and pinned on a tree minutes after. His mouth continuing it's assault on your neck, one hand on your waist, and the other on your breast, squeezing it making you moan and arch your back againts the wood. Your hands in his hair pushing him deeper to your skin.

Your whines and his groans were the only thing could be heard further behind the gardens where no one thankfully entered.

You understood now why men would kill for love and women were willing to die for it. If this was only a glimpse of it, You wonder what a lifelong future looked like.

You've had your the skirt of your lehenga lifted as your legs wrap around him, feeling him grind over you, gripping your hips and pushing down your too to suck in your cleavage.

You were on cloud 9.

You couldn't help but push your hips back on his hardness as you feel your cunt clench on nothing.

You whimpered as his lips move to suck on your nipple as you pull his hair stronger.

He bites on them before lapping on it to soothe the pain and continuing to suck on it as if he couldn't get drunk enough on your skin.

You could feel the material of the tree scratching your lehenga and skin of your back but if anything, in only intensified your pleasure instead of pain.

You whined at the loss of contact as he sets you downs removing his head from your chest, though the suffering barely lasted as he kneels down in front of you and swung your left leg over his shoulder, slightly lifting your skirt and disappearing inside of them.

You didn't have anytime to ask questions as You feel his hands grip your ass an pulling your thighs apart.

Leaning your head back, trusting his hold on you You let out an erotic moan as you feel his tongue shove itself through your cunt like it did with your mouths moments before.

Your arms move to wrap behind on the tree your backed on as your eyes roll back at the feeling of him moving to kitten lick your folds.

You were grinding on his face now, one of the hands on the tree moves to hold his head through the fabric of your dress.

He switches from licking and sucking on your clit making you bite your lip hard to not scream out.

All hells broke lose when He pushes you deeper in his face with his hands still on your ass, gripping and bruising it as he pushes his nose deep in your cunt and sucked on your bundle of nerves.

Riding his nose as his tongue laps at you, You let out an unearthly scream you couldn't hold back as you clench on his face, still grinding and squeezing it with your thighs, riding him through your orgasm.

He fucks you with his mouth through your high until you calmed down.

As your hold on his head loosens, he leaves the heaven of your legs and rises up, fixing your dress as he does.

He leans his forehead on yours, giving a mischievous smile meeting your high gaze.

"Marry me" He breathes out softly.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jace targaryen x reader #jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon

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artwithoutblood · 3 months

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now i feel like a fraud because, like neil gaiman, i too have a dream that just wants to die. this is awkward.

Nooo! I'm sorry, I am the awkward one, getting all overexcited about a theory and forgetting that it can be really rude to compare. (Even accidentally.) That was just trying to spitball what the demon rules for dealing with Silas could be!

Dream gods are just Like That anyway, they're a bunch of sad emo bastards. Too much time spent in their own other people's heads. It's the natural way of things - Dreams die.

Hive minding happens.

The characters are also quite different in personality, character arc, genre... Morpheus tried to clean up his act and in doing so brought about his own death indirectly. Silas is not contrite, went full serial killer and is completely unable to die despite actively seeking it. Plus under the horrific elements Sandman was a classic Greek tragedy with heaps of specific nods to Shakespeare and theatre, and Silas' story is more like cosmic, supernatural or psychological horror. It’s fine!

samir's domain is sand. all sand. little hideaways underneath, where he spends his days drawing and weaving. i could see him keeping silas in a coffin, buried deep, deep in the sand. should silas awaken, he will be drowned by the weight. perhaps adonis can trap his soul in a photograph and take him away. demons don't have souls.you get it. or, perhaps, his body must be forced into the erotic ritual of giving a human demonhood. take over another's aspect. let the former body rot.

👁️ 👁️ 🍿

Lore drop

That's pretty cool. The deserts bring to mind Africa, 'the cradle of humanity''. Or the Middle East, where important theories/inventions around math and astronomy emerged - showing people the workings of reality.

The drawing and weaving are the mind's images, creating narratives, constructing realities. Spinning a yarn. An unbroken thread passing through human lives, an extant tapestry recording experiences that cannot be forgotten.

The desert tunnels also recall the primordial caves. Ancient mankind. The dark. The unknown. The earliest recorded depictions of history and human lives.

Nightmares are as old as humanity and developed alongside them to deal with the horrors. Samir delves deep, down into the suppressed, the hidden back corners and labyrinths of your mind. Samir gets to the hidden reasons, the mysteries. While it's mostly around remembering and managing danger - Samir gives the tools and understanding to engage with, make sense of, and gain mastery of the world you live in.

So that's a really good idea...

By breaking Silas down to his building blocks (physically and/or metaphorically) and understanding his workings he could be stripped of his power by integrating him into, suppressing him under, or extinguishing him with another consciousness.

From a deadly figurative nightmare he could become a weaker literal nightmare. A powerless figment that is terrifying but loses its grip quickly, lurking in the subconscious like an attenuated virus, helping to deal with real fears and predators. A boogeyman suppressed under conscious awareness and weighted down by the sifting sands of Time. No longer real. Passing into myth, into collective memory, now only marked by a constellation.

Samir can also do the opposite. A horrific, primal and subliminal force can be given a different symbolic form. Processed, relived, released, ultimately taking a more acceptable expression.

*points at Silas* Get sublimated idiot.

I also like Adonis trapping him in a photograph. Silas doesn't have a soul but he is an idea, a concept that can be fictionalized into a grim old fairy tale. Like the opposite of those Victorian girls with their paper fairy hoax, people will gasp at the clever photography effects and the tide of scepticism could weaken his grip on humanity.

And perhaps he can even be trapped temporally in a photograph. Frozen forever in time.

“All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.” ― Susan Sontag

I'm not actually smart, I don't know who Susan Sontag is. Tumblr dash just shows me random quotes and this one was on the nose for Aeron and Adonis

it's alright! i meant it in the way where 3 years before the film was released, i wrote the plot of guardians of the galaxy 2 beat by beat for one of my ocs. and then i realized it's ok that i didn't flesh out that storyline because gotg2 was bad. i now have to be like "DAMN!! I CANT DO THIS, GAIMAN ALREADY DID"

samir keeps to himself. he's probably, actually, the most kind, gentle person in the universe thus far. he speaks like the morning dawn. he keeps the cave drawings. makes textiles, makes cloth. plays pretty strings, beautiful instruments. watches nightmares from afar. i know that we must suffer to grow. that doesn't mean i like it.

sometimes, he can make a nightmare just an hourglass. the sand falls on your face. he watches. he has acknowledged you. if he was finally able to find silas and drag him back home by the hair, he'd put his body in a coffin and bury it deep. perhaps, he'd force the essence out of silas and into a younger body. a pretty girl with the fluff of the clouds, eyes of the stars, she should be the one to represent dreams. children have dreams. she could play with toys in the dreamscape.

he is there in your first nightmare. he is the comfort of waking up. he is the comfort in knowing that you can overcome the fear of the nightmare. but he is also the repeating nightmare that haunts you, reminds you of your sins.

there are, perhaps, parallels between samir's solitude in his own caverns and kayn, crawling around in the cold of a dead culture.

because of your asks involving samir, here he is, in his glory.

#samir ask #silas ask

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northisnotup · 3 months

Text

Easier to Think of Leaving

The first thing Sanji said that morning was “I thought about leaving you last night.” The metallic click of the lighter bounced off the walls.

The first thing Zoro said back was “So why didn't you?”

Zoro thought about keeping his eye closed, of convincing himself this was one of those hazy conversations he only ever had nightmares about. But he could feel the sun on his face, sneaking through the curtains Sanji never fully closed. He liked to be able to twitch them open in the middle of the night to blow out streams of blue smoke instead of going downstairs.

5:43 in the morning.

Not terribly early for either of them. Late, actually, for Sanji.

The room smelled like smoke. Tasted like smoke. It was the lighter that woke him. Must have been. It was heavy, and loud when the flint struck. Sanji preferred matches for his quick midnight smokes. They had matchbooks everywhere. Stolen from every place they’d ever been.

Either he’d been awake and stewing for hours or never went to bed at all.

Yawning widely, Zoro smacked his lips together and heaved himself up to sit against the headboard and scratch at his stomach. Usually their room smelled and tasted like ocean salt.

Chair by the window. Arms folded on the small table he used to roll his smokes on good nights. A half smoked cig hanging loose from his fingers. Sanji’s hair was still braided, and frizzing at the ends. Bitched about split ends but still picked at them anytime he ran circles around his own thoughts. Zoro snorted. Hadn’t been to bed yet, then.

Hissing a breath out through his teeth, Sanji stabbed out his cigarette in the butt-filled ash tray. No wonder the fucking room stank. “I can’t stand the idea of you dying alone.”

“I wouldn’t die alone, asshole.” Zoro grit his teeth on the words. They weren’t what he meant to say, not a smart response to your partner telling you the one reason they didn’t leave in the middle of the god damned night.

Sanji was better at being in a relationship, despite being much worse at getting to the relationship part. But he did the right things. He remembered birthdays and anniversaries. He got thoughtful gifts. He didn’t go to bed angry. He could say things like ‘i should leave you.’

Zoro never barely remembered the days of the week. He thought it was stupid to stay up and be miserable for no fucking reason. He wasn’t good with words.

Sanji liked to remind him that he stuttered on his wedding vows.

Usually he said it while laughing.

Last night he spat it out like a curse.

“I know that,” Sanji said, muffled. He dropped his head into his hands and ground his eyes into the heels of his palms.

“You couldn’t stand that I might die without your hands around my throat, more like.”

That got a husked out a laugh. “It was easier to think about leaving when you were asleep.”

“Why.”

“Why was it easier or why did I want to?”

Zoro shrugged, grunting rather than making a choice. There was something Vivi liked to say, how not making a choice was still making a choice. Some shit like that. But when choosing between getting stabbing in the hand vs. getting stabbed in the foot - its not like choosing one over the other was going to save anything. It was going to hurt either way.

The heater in their place was old, and took a while to warm up in the morning. It was the work of seconds to fill a glass with frigid water. Zoro chugged half to rid his mouth of sour sleep and second hand smoke. He passed Sanji the glass on his way back to bed, and bit back some relief when it was immediately pressed to Sanji’s neck, the cold raising goose bumps on his skin.

He shuddered through deep breaths for a minute, while Zoro waited for the hammer to fall.

“We talked about taking a trip out east last fall and it never happened.”

“You had that shitty legal battle with those fuckers. Wasn’t a good time.”

They aren’t like that normally. They don’t say shit they don’t mean, or back off from shit they say they’ll do. It’s about the only reason they started to date in the first place. It was a bet, a joke, and then a competition, like they were seeing who’d bow out first. And then it was comforting, to be with someone like that. Someone sure.

The lighter clicked again. Sanji drank the water and then rested the glass upside down over the lighter.

On another day, Zoro might pick a fight about water rings on the table. Something that was fine when Sanji did it, but caused a shake down fight whenever he forgot a coaster.

“You let our fucking plant die.”

There it was.

The plant was older than their marriage and had vines longer than Zoro’s whole body.

They’d been given the plant as a joke, from Nami, when they moved in together. When Sanji ducked into the kitchen, she bet Beri that they’d break up before Zoro managed to kill the thing. “It’s like you,” she snorted. “It thrives on neglect.”

Zoro yelled at her and she yelled back, and Sanji yelled at him for yelling at Nami, and Luffy yelled at all of them for fighting during a party. Later on she bought him a good bottle of whisky and they drank it under the stars. Zoro didn’t remember what they talked about, only that Nami said sorry and threw up immediately after.

“You said I was watering it too much,” Zoro said. “So I stopped.”

“Do you even fucking care?” Sanji’s open palm hit the table and a second later the glass hit the floor.

“Don’t move.” Zoro was out of bed and getting the broom from the hallway before Sanji could think about being a contrary little shit. “Was this one of the nice glasses Vivi got us?” Zoro had met the glass blower at one of Vivi’s Alabastan Independence Day dinners, they talked about working with fire and the art of creating dangerous things.

Zoro commissioned her for a set of measuring cups. It had been the only glass kitchen tool he could think of, and she laughed herself sick but promised to have it done by their next anniversary.

“No, I don’t put the nice glass in the fucking en suite, you animal.”

It was hard to tell, all smashed to bits, so Zoro shrugged.

“It was the one Chopper got us at the Bargain Bin.”

“Well, fuck.” Zoro paused, frowning. On one hand, Chopper probably won’t remember getting this specific glass for them. Chopper was always buying things that made him think of their crew. But Zoro liked it. That’s how it became the en suite glass in the first place. He didn’t get the joke on it, a stylized katana with the half the slogan chipped off. Something about having god on your side. But Usopp had assured him it was just dumb and funny.

“Sure. You care about that, you dumb piece of sentient fucking moss. You care you broke the 2 Beri glass Chopper got for a laugh -”

“If it’s green, there’s something worth saving.”

For a moment, the bin rattling as the glass settled at the bottom was the only sound in the room. Then Sanji drawled, slow and deliberate. The same way he exhaled smoke. “Is that your idea of a fucking joke?”

Sanji’s anger was like a wave. It swelled and rushed. But the real danger was when the tide went out. When he seemed calm, but really, the tsunami was about to hit.

“I messaged Robin yesterday, before you came in.” Playing with fire, Zoro hazarded over a grin. “She said if it’s still green, there’s something to save.”

There was. The leaves along the vine were yellowing and falling off so fast it made Zoro panic. There were dark, mushy roots peeking out the bottom of the pot. But the vine itself was still green. Sanji went out like one of his matches, the fight draining out of him. He took a heavy step, then two, and finally sank down onto the bed.

“Lighter?”

“I forgot how hard it is to light smokes this early. Everything feels wet,” Sanji muttered into the bedspread.

Humming, Zoro flopped down beside him, leaving the broom and pan where they were for now. They’d have to clean up better later anyway, make sure no glass was hiding. “Still want to leave me?”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Zoro squeezed his eye shut and thought for a second about biting his tongue in two. Slow death vs. a slow death. Hand or foot.

“Not right now,” Sanji sighed. The nicotine jitters were leaving him shaky and strung out, like always. The water must have helped a bit, though. “Divorces are messy. I should have made you sign a prenup.”

Zoro nodded. Should’ve, would’ve. Too late now. “Good. You can yell at me more after you get some fucking sleep.”

“I wasn’t yelling.”

“Felt like yelling.”

They rolled about getting comfortable. Sanji wiggling out of his day-old clothes, still smelling like cooking oil and old sweat and smoke. “Robin-dear really thinks?”

Daring, Zoro laid an arm out, offering. “She coming over tomorrow, bring Usopp and Franky. They asked when we last re-potted it.”

“What is ‘re-potting’?”

For a second, Sanji was tense and still. For all it was one of Sanji’s favourite threats, Zoro had never actually slept in the guest room, and he wondered for a second if that was about to change. Then, Sanji hitched his body back, squirming til his back lay flushed against Zoro’s side.

“That’s what I said.”

Sanji snorted. “Go to bed. I can just as easily kill you when we wake up.”

“You can try,” Zoro muttered, hooking his arm down til his hand lay flat against Sanji’s heart.

#zosan #my fic #north's adventures in fic writing #this might get cleaned up or added onto for ao3 #we'll see

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noturvlentine · 1 year

Text

warm pale evening

Jake Muller (re6) x reader

based on this request 🖤 hope i got remotely close to what you had in mind!!!

this one’s a short one, but i kinda shoved the reader character into doing what Jake does alongside him- extending from the end cut scene of Jake in re6 where it’s suggested he’s still a mercenary but also helping fight B.O.Ws, so this is set post re6

do not copy my stuff elsewhere but reblogs are ok!!!

fluff basically, mentions of previous events

Summary- Jake and his lover are having a talk in bed about their worries sometime into the evening.

༺ ♰ ༻

Somewhere in the Middle East

August

01:20AM

The late summer atmosphere was starting to catch a little breeze. You didn’t know how long you were due to stay in this worn down flat- it was a cheap stay for the time being while Jake received intel on the latest B.O.W reports around the city. He had kept in touch with Sherry after what unfolded in 2012, though he wasn’t keen on being governed by any authority what so ever. You two were always on the move, stopping here and there to discreetly (but not so quietly) take down any bio-organic weapons along the way. You wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world- though it did make you worry about your relationship more than you should.

Jake stood on the balconet, his silhouette leaning wanderingly against the short railing behind the curtains. He’d left the slender door open, you could feel the light breeze wavering into the room. The door was like a large window, and the balcony was barely big enough to fit the two of you- it reminded you of Italy for some reason. You could tell Jake was eating away at his thoughts as he observed the clouded sky. You propped yourself up on your elbows, shifting on the bed to get a better look at him.

‘Jake?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Come back, it’s cold outside’

He turned his head in the dark, his silhouette craning its neck to get a better peak inside. He quietly made his way back into the room, shutting the small glass door behind him. Jakes sweatpants hung low at his hips as the rest of his bare torso dimly lit by the moon, making his way over to his side of the bed. You were in a thin white tshirt, probably one of his seeing as it was quite big on you, you’d both kicked off the covers hours before due to the heat. Jake shuffled the blanket to the side as the mattress sank beside you. There was no bed frame, just clean white sheets on a mattress, brushing up against warm wooden floors. He sat himself on the bed against the wall, slumping down to meet your level. He motioned for you to move closer to him, so you did, your head resting against his chest as his arm looped around your shoulders.

‘I’m worried you know-‘ you began, staring outside. Jake began gently twirling a strand of you hair around his finger.

‘Go ahead- I’m listening.’

A pause followed. Maybe now wasn’t the time for this, maybe you wanted to lie in silence with his arms wrapped around you.

‘What if it all goes wrong one day?- what if- fuck, I don’t know. What if something terrible happens and we lose each other-‘

‘Oh shut up.’ He teased amidst your sentimental stuttering.

‘Jake I’m being serious okay- I’m not at all against what we do but sometimes I could almost die thinking about it.’ You sighed, expecting some witty reply back from him. But he stayed silent for a while longer, thinking about whether to be completely honest with you or just to assure you that it was all okay.

‘Listen, I think about it too- in fact I was just drowning in that thought outside before you called me back in.’ He scoffed at himself- for once he’s not pretending. ‘God- I don’t even know where to start. But what’s important is this, we’re here right now and that’s all that matters right?’ You felt him shrug at his words as he brought his other hand up to your face, gently running his thumb across your cheekbone. You shifted your head up to look at him, tracing your finger across the scar on his face down to his chin, pulling him down to kiss you. It was long and sweet, delicate almost, as if the conversation wasn’t finished. You pulled away slightly to see the complexion in his eyes, searching them for some kind of answer. You sighed quietly and dropped your hand down to his chest, trailing it all the way to his side as you had your arm wrapped around him.

‘I just wanna love you without having to worry about it.’ You said as you snuggled up against him a little more.

‘Then do as you please. Love me without worry.’ He repeated, sliding down his pillow so that you were both somewhat levelled again. He spoke softly and carefully as his fingers continue to weave through your hair, his other hand now tracing small circles on your arm around him. You shifted onto your side a little more and slipped one of your legs between his.

‘Maybe we should call off kicking ass tomorrow and just lie like this for another day.’

You hummed in response.

‘One hell of a job it is, we should retire.’

‘It’s not really a job, Jake.’ You teased at him.

Jake chuckled in response, reaching a hand down the mattress to pull a bit of blanket on both of you.

AN: I have no idea what that is but it rendered kind of bittersweet in my head, kind of a bit domestic despite the setting I guess but it was fun!!!

#jake muller #jake muller x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #re6 #chris redfeild x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fluff

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starwalker03 · 6 months

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I realized WMLP Dick’s position in that army unit is similar to his early experience with the team. He’s the youngest has a lot of experience and skills his squad mates don’t, among peers for the first time in a while, hiding his true identity, gets pushed out of his comfort zone by the people he was with. Expect this time is was true war. And he came away without bonding with his team and looking down on them. Would this experience effect how he views his memories of The Team?

Huh. Actually that's a good point.

It would definitely make him remember how unprepared they were for That Whole Situation, just thrown into missions having never worked together except for the Cadmus mission which ended with an exploded building like. Bruh. I know they weren't giving the league many options but also what the fUCK guys y'all just sent them off on their merry way like that. The fact they didn't die in episode three is a miracle.

But then also he's so aware of the difference between working with people who are fighting because they're genuinely good people with a desire to help others, as opposed to... Well. People who wanna shoot guns, had no other options, want the military to pay off their degree, et cetera et cetera so on so forth. Like this team is so different to his old one it's almost distracting. It's almost problematic. It's almost enough to snap Dick out of the constant unrelenting need to do as he's told and question Slade because 'uh hey yeah what the fUCK is up with these people'

Dick has to force a level of indifference between himself and his new team because if he doesn't he can't focus on the task at hand. He can't help but think about the fact that these people should not be running around armed with thousands of lives in their hands.

It doesn't help that they're all unaware of half of the shit that goes down in the world. Even Dick's superiors have only the smallest understandings of figures like Count Vertigo and Gorilla Grod and none of them have any idea who Vandal Savage is. Queen Bee? Uh you mean the dictator of that small kick of desert in the middle east?

(CW for conversations about the "war on terror" ahead)

Oh my god. I didn't even consider that if Bialya and Qurac are middle eastern countries they're surprisingly close by during the wars of the early 2000s. Like I've hand waved and said 'yeah going off timeline Dick probably got sent around the middle east' but completely failed to realise he might have even been in Bialya or Qurac for missions.

I wonder how those countries engaged with wars in the area in lore. It's apparently north of Saudi Arabia and Iran in wider DC lore? But YJ isn't specific?

Here's a Reddit thread I found where people start getting into nitty gritty details:

Essentially they're depi ting Bialya and Qurac as west and east Iran, respectively. And also offering theories as to how those countries could have come to be.

If I continue to use Australia as the example (which I suppose I should cause I've essentially canonized it in the fic at this point), Australia was only particularly involved with Afghanistan and Yemen I believe, but I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge.

Bialya and Qurac could, possibly, border operations in Afghanistan. Young justice lore states that Bialya is a part of the UN and therefore may not be particularly open to military operations but very well could have housed a few bases on the borders.

Jesus. Getting this into the lore of YJ feels so strange and I'm honestly not sure if it's inappropriate or not. I could believe Queen Bee being involved with the war on terror, whether it's a part of Savage's plans or not, just because she enjoys conflict. Moreover it helps with the anti-Quraci thing she has going. From what I can tell of the show, Qurac seems to be a majority Islamic country? So I could see her manipulating the image of things to benefit her attempts to take back Qurac.

Well this spiralled. Uh I might end this answer here actually.

#dc comics #fanfiction #dick grayson #young justice #with morality like a polynomial #wmlp #deathstroke #angst #cw war #cw war on terror

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beardedmrbean · 14 days

Note

Oh actually there’s running gag in how convenient that a lot of historical figures are in one game

AC syndicate is one of the most infamous, because despite it taking over a year. We meet Frederick Abberline, Charles Dickinson and Darwin(actually there a lot of tongue meta jokes with him. As his theory of evolution is still accurate in ac. He doesn’t know that humanity to primatesto what dogs are to wolves), Karl Marx (sadly you can’t kill him), Alexander Graham Bell, Nightingale, and the motherfucking Queen Victoria

Not counting dlc with Arthur Doyle and Deup Singh

And yes we do have dlc centered around Jack the Ripper

Oh shit I forgot there ww1 segment where you work with Winston Churchill

Another thing, so in the halo series, there a propaganda line of “Spartans never die, there just Missing In Action”

It took Herdotus in odyessy, yes the Father of History (or Lies to the Egyptians), saying that Spartan poem of them being immortal I went

“Wait that where halo got it from?!”

Actually leaks said William Adams is going to be in the game too. I presuming third act or late game, wait could Adams travel to other places after becoming a samurai? I can see him being used a mechanic to explain how we can go to other countries like India

Btw I meet Rolo of Normandy in Valhalla when he was 17…in a medieval bdsm dungeon while he blindfolded and wiped

Dear god Middle Ages England was truly the apocalypse

Also I only realize it after the endgame…young Rolo actually lives in my settlement for a bit

But yeah I can see them making up a relationship with Yasuke and William Adams. Oh another joke

A Japanese: another Gajin join us?’

Yasuke: Yes and make him a proper samurai this time

Oh this is Valhalla main menu theme. But rest to sure the ac red music will be authentic

https://youtu.be/bApSPN-5TxQ?si=FcMKeReMxCuxGpxW

Hell the teaser trailer I sent actually ends with the game Japanese cover of ac iconic song ezio family

Lots of stuff ending with Oh shit I forgot there ww1 segment where you work with Winston Churchill

Doyle and Churchill don't quite fit, Deup Singh either but in the other direction

It took Herdotus in odyessy, yes the Father of History (or Lies to the Egyptians), saying that Spartan poem of them being immortal I went “Wait that where halo got it from?!”

Josephus is a good historian to read too, and it's entirely possible that's where they got it, not sure the poem tho so can't say for sure.

Ya Tokegawa let him go back to England even at some point, he had freedom of movement probably had to still have permission from the boss to leave Japan but well

List of foreign-born samurai (Yasuke doesn't make the cut because they can't 100% prove he was or wasn't a samurai.) but this list goes through their credentials or however you want to put it.

For Addams it was

250 koku. He was granted the rank of Hatamoto, a fief and 80-90 servants. Interpreter and shipwright of Tokugawa Shogunate.

Only one managed a higher worth.

Btw I meet Rolo of Normandy in Valhalla when he was 17…in a medieval bdsm dungeon while he blindfolded and wiped Dear god Middle Ages England was truly the apocalypse

Not just in Europe either, though that's where we have the specific information about things, shit was bad in Asia, the middle east, and Africa too. Lots of those areas had the same problem too.

But yeah I can see them making up a relationship with Yasuke and William Adams. Oh another joke A Japanese: another Gajin join us?’ Yasuke: Yes and make him a proper samurai this time

I take it Yasuke managed to pick up the language ok then, Addams did ok but still had a interpreter with him all the time too just in case.

youtube

Oh that's pretty

Hell the teaser trailer I sent actually ends with the game Japanese cover of ac iconic song ezio family

I didn't catch that apparently, that's cool af

#zoomer huey anon

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vergess · 7 months

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Americans really believe that??? That sounds like cartoon villain shit there ain't no way.

I know, right, it sounds so fucking unhinged you'd think it has to be fake!!! But nope!

1 out of every 3 Christians in the USA unironically believes Israel only exists to fulfill an End Times Prophecy.

This is what we mean when we say Americans devalue the lives of Israelis in specific and Jews in general.

We are literally a BLOOD SACRIFICE TO THEIR GOD and they expect us to be GRATEFUL.

And yes!! It does sound cartoonish!

That's why I keep saying there is a clear cut, easy villain in this conflict.

It's the imperialists who literally want to sacrifice the middle east to their death cult to destroy the world.

But even among the majority of US Christians, the other 2/3?

Support for Israel is very strong for one other reason I haven't mad e as clear today as I usually do:

White Supremacy.

See, "exterminate the Jews in hellfire" isn't as popular a talking point post WW2 as it was in say the 1870s.

So what are you to do when you want to cleanse an ethnicity from your society, but it's uncouth to kill them?

Why, you take the filthy mongrels, and you push them over there!

It worked great for the US forced relocations of Indigenous people in north America, and for the forced removal of former slaves to Liberia! (Don't pay any attention to how many people died horrifically of the permanent damage done to global geopolitics and regional ecosystems or the way local political frictions between the forcibly relocated and the already present lead to endless generations of bloodshed. I'm sure none of that will be relevant.).

By having a handy shelf to put Jews on, white supremacists get to send us to one of the most politically unstable places on earth, with much of that instability literally caused by the US directly, and let two problems solve themselves. Jews AND Arabs killing each other, without the white people lifting a finger!

Do you have any idea how many Nazis LOVE the existence if Israel? It's a "proof of concept" that the US can create and sustain an ethnostate even in a very unstable region, AND it's an easy place to send Jews to go die! Wow! A two for one deal!

And let's go ahread and remind everyone while we're here:

ISRAEL DOES NOT ARM ITSELF. ISRAEL'S WEAPONS COME FROM THE US AND EUROPE SPECIFICALLY SO THAT ISRAEL CAN BE USED AS A FORWARD OPERATIONS CENTER IN THE REGION.

Anyway, the US wants a few things:

The destruction of jews

Access to holy lands

Access to oil rich regions

Creating, arming, and sustaining Israel gives them all 3.

#Asks #Answered asks #Anonymous #IP main

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antigonenikk · 13 days

Text

do i dare//disturb the universe?

words: 1621

chapter 1/?

pairing: eugene sledge/john “bucky” egan

summary: Eugene Sledge and John Egan are both adrift in the wake of the War. They find each other in a small bar in a small corner of Chinatown. And the rest, as they say, is history.

also posted on my ao3: @wintersangels69

"And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."

-The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

—————————————————————

There were certain things he couldn’t do anymore. Certain things he couldn’t take. And one of them was sitting still. After- well, after, there had been talk of sending him back stateside. Buck had headed back to Wyoming soon as V-E Day and went, and Bucky was right behind him. That was, before the goddamned Docs put a stop to it. As they so helpfully pointed out, Buck had had time to recover. Had been fed and watered and was back to looking like a real human being in between his rescue and his transfer back to East Anglia. Not so with Bucky. According to medical personal on base, Bucky wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere for at least six months. See, Bucky was down to 125 lbs, half his teeth had rotted out somewhere between Bremen and Berlin, he had sores all on his feet infected and peeling from frostbite, and to top it all off he had what the Docs were calling “mono-nueropathy of the upper limb” which really just meant that his left arm kept fucking twitching. Wouldn’t goddamn stay still. All of this combined meant that Bucky himself would have to stay still. And for a long time.

It was killing him, honest to God. Buck had given him a sort of sympathetic look before he was set to leave, standing awkward by his bedside. Like he was asking John for forgiveness. For what, he couldn’t be quite sure. For leaving maybe. But it seemed lately like Buck was always leaving. Those last few months marching from one camp to the next, he had started to forget Buck’s face. The color of his eyes. The way his eyebrow would twitch when he thought something was especially funny. All he could remember was the back of his head, gleaming and golden and leaving him. Always, always leaving. But that’s how it was, wasn’t it? With people like him. Unnatural, too loud, too brash, cloying and clinging and desperate for an ounce of human touch or feeling. It never worked. No matter what he did. Whether he was loud or quiet, strong or weak, joyful or stoic. He’d made himself into a million different men between the time of his birth and the time of his discharge from the military hospital, and none of them had ever warranted anything but the back of some poor fucker’s head. He’d had a lot of time to think on that, while recovering. He’d heard the boys in the middle of the night cry out, and he’d try and pace with his stupid fucking feet, and he’d stare out the windows as the nurses fussed over him, and he’d think. About Buck. About Leaving. About Home. About what any of it all meant now that he’d survived. What were you supposed to do, after you had spent years sure you would die, trying desperately to do anything you could to survive? What did it mean to live after all of that? It seemed to Bucky like everyone around him had it figured out. Everyone but him.

He wasn’t pathetic enough to follow Gale to Wyoming. He’d had a letter delivered two weeks before his release about the wedding. And that was great. Real great. He wanted to be angry, but he knew he wouldn’t have come to the thing even if he’d been able to, even if the wedding had been held off until he could walk on his own two feet. They were young, and in love, Gale and Marge, like two fucking little Dresden Dolls, perfect happy life perfect happy family. He would have ruined it anyways. And now there was no place for him. All those nights, the soft brush of a hand in his hair, whispering, love you, Buck, love you, and never once hearing it in return. There was no place for him there. They discharged him in April 1946, after months of grueling recovery and only a handful of letters, and he headed out for somewhere. Somewhere else.

From the top deck of the boat, crowded on all sides, he could feel the breeze in his hair, and it didn’t feel like freedom should have. It just felt like more nothing.

—————————————————————

He was back on Peleliu in the dream, for some reason. Sid was above him, blood leaking from his open mouth. He hadn’t known what to do. He tried to call for a Corpsman, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t move his arms couldn’t move his legs just the oppressive heat drowning him. And then he’d felt fingers in his mouth, and he’d looked up, and there was Merriell, his glacier blue eyes wide with unhinged glee, a knife in hand, tearing out his back molar. He tried to scream, tried to tell him. It’s me. It’s me. But the image shifted. And instead of Merriell it was him, Eugene, grinning at him beneath the pelting rain. He pulled out his own teeth, one by one, his face in an approximation of a smile, laughing, and then-

He woke up silently. He couldn’t help it if he tried. The memory of that noise, the shovel hitting the poor fucker whose name he never learnt, the memory wouldn’t let him ever get to anything but a choked out whine in his sleep. No matter how bad the dreams got. His mind knew, vaguely, that he was back home. But his body was still on that airfield, in the middle of a warm wet hell, saying, “It was him or us.”

He wasn’t gonna be able to sleep. So instead he wandered downstairs, watching the sun rise through the curtains. College, of course, had been a bust. He was technically on break and set to return in the fall, but he knew deep down he wasn’t going back. Couldn’t stand to look in the eyes of people his age and see souls lurking back there. The resentment within him bubbled up each time he saw souls that still lived and breathed and hadn’t been left back with a crying baby in Okinawa. And besides, he couldn't stand their smug indifference, as if any of them knew what it had been like in the thick of it. Half of them hadn’t even served, and the other half kept talking about the European Theatre like it meant something to him. They’d been back home for a year before he’d had an inkling of returning to the waking world, and it showed. While they celebrated Hitler’s defeat he was in a foxhole being shot at, losing his humanity inch by inch.

Part of him wanted to go to New Orleans. To ask why. Why. Why wasn’t he good enough for Merriell? Why did he leave him there, sleeping, on that train bound for Alabama? Part of him wanted to run down the street to Sid and Mary’s house and start screaming at the both of them. “I used to fuck your husband! I used to fuck him! And he left me there without saying fucking goodbye! He didn’t warn me!”

He didn’t warn me. And now it was all too late. He wouldn’t go back to school. And he’d been trying to survive for so long he couldn’t kill himself. And he couldn’t stand the thought of New Orleans and the rejection he’d find there. And going to Sid’s was really just a funny little fantasy, something to indulge in when he was feeling real low and wanted to cry for the sake of crying. There was nowhere left to go, nowhere really. And he couldn’t stay here.

The urge to flee came inside of him and started tapping at the walls of his chest. He had to get out of Mobile. He had to leave, now.

In his room he spent an hour packing the essentials. His Bible from the War tucked into his back pocket. A few changes of clothes. Soap and a razor and a second pair of shoes. A book by Eliot. It was funny. Before the war, he always thought Eliot was a real sop. Could never get into the lilting rhymes. But now, it seemed reading Four Quartets or Alfred Prufrock was the only thing that could get him to calm down when the noise reached unbearable levels inside his own head.

There was only one thing for it, really. New York. The idea called to him, deep in his bones. He could feel it. He could belong in New York. He could be as inverted as he wanted to be and no one would bat an eye if he picked the right neighborhood. He could hide among the faces of strangers and forget that the word sledgehammer existed in the English dictionary. It would be like Peking. Which he had learned to love so dearly. The noise and the beautiful tonal language, the bright lights and the rickshaws. Maybe he’d move to Chinatown even. He knew the language alright, and he’d never felt as at home as when he was dining with one of the host families last winter. Yes. Yes. This would be good. This would be a fresh start.

He left a letter to his parents. He didn’t want to give it more thought than it needed. A swift separation was for the best. It was only a matter of time before they too got sick of him, and sent him to the hospital, having seen the weakness and the black ooze at the heart of him.

By noon he was on a train headed due North, set to run into the open embrace of a new city. Set to run straight into the back of one John Egan.

#fanfiction #cranked this bad boy out at 4am lmaoooo #im dedicated to this crossover pairing now so beware!!!!!#john bucky egan #john egan #eugene sledge #the pacific #masters of the air #post canon au #i love u buck i love u snafu i love u sid but u guys r not in this one !!#i decided to singlehandedly END the yearning train #yearning js out being madly in love with ur boyfriend in new york is IN #they should have been at the club and so im writing them at the club!!! in the next chapter lmao #its going to be giving scudder maurice vibes ok its going to be giving second chance at love love at first sight vibes #i promise ill finish this fic it wont be like my stranger things one

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foxykate42 · 8 months

Text

I think the reason I have such a hard time reconciling my faith in Christianity, even the slightest bit, is because of all the atrocities committed in the attempt to convert others.

I'm not here to bash anyone else's faith. I'm not saying good hasn't been done in the name of Christianity. All I'm saying is that, the Christians today, who are welcoming lgbtq people into their religion, have to be okay with us saying no.

Just because you accept us doesn't mean you get to convert us.

No matter how bright and hopeful a picture you paint of your god in front of me today doesn't mean I can't see the trail of blood and tears behind you leading to me. This "acceptance" is coming from a group of people who "accepted" the natives as they crushed them and stole their land. From the people who "accepted" pagans by crusufying and drowning the ones who wanted to live in their own ways. The people who "accepted" those in the Middle East and waged war on those who didn't want to convert, over and over and over.

I know it's slightly reductive. But please.

Even if you accept us, you still have to be okay with us saying no.

Just because you accept us doesn't stop people who believe in the same God you do, from hurting us in order to get us to think more like you.

We want co-existance, not assimilation. And we can do it peacefully. That last bit is what Christians seem to have trouble with.

You can accept us, but do it without assimilating us this time, without changing us to be a more palettable brand of different, without changing how we live, and move on peacefully so we can all live and die in our own quiet, happy lives.

Too many Christians fail to understand the entire concept of unconditional love that their religion is supposedly built on.

Humans are supposed to love each other, care for one another, and look after the world we inhabit unconditionally. Saying "I love you if you worship our god of love" is still a condition.

#lgbtq #shower thoughts #this is out of nowhere i know #sometimes you just gotta #christianity #im just gonna send it #long post

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sebastianstansqueen · 2 years

Text

A Beautiful, Terrible Thing 13

A/N: In a lot better mood posting this one, also look at this post to know about whats going on because I'm dropping a sub plot but i'm going to be updating this a lot more, and as always Feedback is always appreciated if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,932

Warnings: Angst, leading on to smut, and I think thats it I missed any thing tell me pleas!

Masterlist // Taglist open // Series Masterlist

Tags:@cherryblossomskye - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel -@ginger-swag-rapunzel - @brownlee-22 - @vicmc624 - @austynparksandpizza - @calwitch - @dontbescaredtosingalong -

Y/n paced Bucky’s office as the memories continued wearing in her mind, some of them bringing tears to her eyes, others fueling anger, it was late at night still Bucky had brought her here after she’d requested it. Tony eventually followed in coming along with Bucky. “What is this?” Tony demanded, angry about being awoken in the middle of his sleep along with angry about none of his questions being met with no answers.

“You’ll see, now will you shut up? I wouldn’t have awoken you for no reason this is more important than you think.” Bucky hissed at the man just outside the door.

“Will you two just stop arguing?” Y/n said with irritation. “Gods!”

“What the hell, she hasn’t been irritated since before-you remember?” Tony asked,

Y/n nodded. Y/n told them everything she remembered from when she was in Hydrana.

“They have a witch, she’s more powerful than Wanda.” Y/n said softly with fear Bucky hugged her closer to him.

“She can’t be Wanda broke her spell if this which you speak of is so powerful Wanda wouldn’t have been able to break the spell.” Tony spoke.

Then the doors were opened, and along with them Wanda came in the kings and the Queen looked up. “Hydana t-they’re planning on attacking there marching upon us as we speak.”

“We need to find Steve and round up the troops and leave.” Bucky told Tony.

Tony nodded. “Every King here will fight with you James to defend the North.”

The sun was rising in the East, over vast mountains covered in Snow and pine trees Kings sat upon their horses in armor there soldiers ready to defend their friends and their own kingdoms.

Tony and Bucky told Y/n she could not be allowed to go with them to where the war would rage, all the men had rode off when they were able to see their breaths being seen in the air, Y/n watched as they rode off, her irritation grew by the second. Yelena came to help her get dressed. “You're plotting something.” The blond spoke.

Y/n looked at her from the balcony. “Aye, I am.”

“Well I want to help.” Yelena smirked.

Y/n smiled at her new friend. “Great, we’re going to need Wanda’s help too.” Wanda helped create a suit of armor for the Queen, it had the cold Sliver of the North with hints of gold from the South, made with ancient dragon scales to make it fireproof, the metal made of vibranium, along with a sword one side of the blade silver and the other gold. She wore a long sleeve leather shirt along with leather pants and boots all protected with armor.

“I’m leaving immediately. I need Moon in his own armor so that he can come along and not be harmed.” Y/n told her closest friends.

“I’m coming with you Y/n.” Yelena insisted, wearing black armor now instead of a handmaid dress.

Y/n shook her head. “I will not ask you to do that Yelena, I won’t ask you to come along and possibly die.”

“I'm not offering my life, I'm coming to make up my due for all the pain my homeland has caused, and if I do die for you it will be worth it, you saved my life one I owe you now more than ever.” Yelena told her.

“I won’t let you die for me, but you can come along.” Y/n sighed.

Y/n got on Moon who now wore vibranium and dragon scale armor similar to his owne, Snow by her side and Yelena mounted upon Wanda's horse, Y/n turned to said friend. “Wanda make sure nothing happens to Aaron please.” The Queen begged.

“You know I will, and I’ll protect the army’s form here with my magic.” Wanda assured her friend with a squeeze of her friend's hands.

The Queen and Handmaid road off towards where the Kings and there army’s road, Y/n there horses road as fast as there legs could go, a comment pounding across the could ground the two horses and the single wolf ran.

“Hopefully they are not all dead by the time we get to the camp.” Yelen huffed out.

Y/n looked at the woman. “They won't be Hydrana may be far but most of them are lazy and stupid people spesificaly the people who support the royals, it took the men who kidnapped me days to get to there kingdome while James and my brother made it in a night you know why, it’s because they persevered and didn’t let anything stop them, and we are of the North so we will make it before it is too late.”

After hours of riding, the two women caught up to the army’s and their leaders,

Yelena and Y/n rode around the army to the front where she would find her husband and brother she rode to a stop in front of the men, being jolted forward and almost off the horse while Snow's fur stood on end. “Y/n?” Bucky asked aloud.

“You two thought you could make me stay in the walls of the castle while you fight, great joke, but I’m coming and fighting, and I’m killing that tyrant.” Y/n spoke with a powerful voice showing she wasn’t going to stand down. “Or I’ll fight on my own with Yelena and Snow by my side.”

Tony was the first to speak up. “I will not watch you die, I will not lose my mother, father and sister.”

“Tony this isn’t your place to speak, we aren't in the South this isn’t your land.” Y/n argued with her brother. “You can not command me of anything.”

“I say let her fight.” King T’challa spoke first. “My army is that of women and I haven’t seen them lose a fight yet, but I have seen army’s of only men lose.”

“Aye! I agree.” Thor spoke. “That of the Valkyrie have lived to see many fight’s along with Lady Sif.” Tony looked at the man who is his brother-in-law. “James, you can't possibly agree.”

Bucky looked at the man. “I won’t let my wife die alone.” He spoke.

Tony used his rains to make his horse Philippe go forward and around his sister, Moon fell in march with Winter, Snow still walking beside her owner. “Where’s Night?” Y/n asked her husband.

“He’s in the back protecting us from attackers.” He told her.

“Tony will get over it, you know, and so will you.” She spoke. “It’s only fair.”

Bucky huffed. “I do wish you stayed at the castle, for you’ll be a distraction.” “That’s why I’ll worry about myself and you will worry about you.” She told him. “I don’t need your protection, I can tie my own boots myself like a big girl.” She said sarcastically.

They rode until sunset, which is when they set up camp, and they ate a shitty meal but all dealt with it, then the King's plan to strategize, Tony had told her to go into the tent she and Bucky would share until the next morning but she ignored what he told her, she followed the leaders to where they were headed, she being the last of them to show up hidden behind many of the men, she had to fight through the tall stachtures of men like King Thor and King T’challa. Once she wormed her way through she was met with judging looks from some of the Kings, Tony looked at her with furrowed brows. “What are you doing?” Tony asked his sister.

Y/n looked at the room of men who were murmuring. “If I’m going to be a part of this war, I’m going to be in the meeting to plan with you all.” She stated to all of the kings standing around the table. “I’m not a child, I’m no longer a Princess I’m the Queen of the North, and I plan to fight with my King to protect our lands and realms, so it’s time that you pull your heads form your arses and start to actually see me as King T’chall and Thor do and treat me with the same respect you show all of your army’s and your fellow rulers, I have been through hell’s you can’t even possibly imagine and I plan to get my revenge, and kill the man who took my unborn child away from me, and so I will take his head and my wolf will feed off his corps.” This seemed to rhile the men up, making them cheer.

After some plotting they all drank and along with alcohol came lust, Y/n led Bucky away from the rest of the men to their large tent once inside, Y/n scoffed. “And you wanted to have this to yourself.” She smirked as she undressed the man in front of her, both had already taken off the armor they wore while riding.

Bucky smirked. “You look good in black.”

Yelena sat on a wood log alone and watched as the Queen vowed her loyalties to lead the King away, sadness took a lock over her features, the Captain came and sat next to the woman. “If your looking for a good fuck I suggest looking else where.”

The blond man laughed. “Not so much a fuck, but a conversation, I alredy have someone back in the north waiting.”

“Oh, is it lady Natasha or Wanda?” Yelena asked.

“Lady Peggy.” Steve told her honestly.

Yelen looked at him. “From the old kingdom?” The man nodded. “I heard it’s hard to leave.”

“She figured it out, but I’m not here to talk to you about my love but about yours, the King I think your new best friend wouldn’t be too happy with sharing her hu-” She cut off Steve.

“I don’t think her husband would be happy with sharing.” She interrupted.

Steve looked at her with shock. “The Quee-” “I suggest we shut up before I am beheaded by one of these men.” Yelena interrupted before he could finish. “I promised to protect her and that is what I will do even if I die.”

“That’s not what she would want.” Steve told her. “If you make it through this I will make sure you are rewarded.”

“How?” She asked.

“A Guard?” He offered.

She scoffed. “And have to match passt there door and listen to the King fuck her, no thank you.”

“All the women you want? A one way free ticket to a whore house for the rest of your life.” He said, smirking.

“Kill me.” She told him.

Steve whipped his head towards her. “I can not do that, it would be against what I believe, and Y/n would never allow it, you would have to be an enemy of the North for me to kill you.”

“Then if I live I’ll kill one of your men, one who’s a fool and then you can take me to the forest and chop my head off.” She told him as she kicked back the rest of her ale.

“No you won’t, I’ll give you all the riches you want and you can go live a peaceful life, no death, just a peaceful life in the North, South or any kingdom you wish, but I won’t kill you and you will not kill one of my men.” He spoke softly to her. “I do want one thing from you.” “Hmm?” She hummed.

“Tell Y/n.”

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