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#i remembered him being like. polite in this route
todayisafridaynight · 10 days
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aoki deserves a billion and one knives to the organs but tbh if i showed up to the husband of my ex's ceremony Of Which Was The Same Guy Who Made Me Look Like A Jackass On My Birthday and she was like 'wow youre so charming and sophisticated' after i overheard her calling me a creep and a weirdo On My Birthday i think i wouldve killed myself on the spot in front of everyone so good on him for not doing that I Guess
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yourtongzhihazel · 2 months
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thoughts on anarchism?
The anarchists I've met IRL, especially while organizing, have been some of the most wonderful comrades and I wouldn't hesitate to work with them again. I'm sure there's many online too who're just like them. I do admire how quickly they are willing to use direct action, even if it's not the best tactic to be used or the only means to an end. Some anarchist ideas, while not necessarily achievable on a large scale, are certainly is very helpful for short term, small scale survival, like mutual aid for example.
Anarchism as an ideology though, I do have strong disagreements with. When I was first dipping my toes into studying political-economy, I had a very brief time where I was following both anarchist and marxist accounts and forums. And often, when I asked the marxists a question about how things would or potentially could work, they could point to real examples as much as they could theoretical ones, and they could point out the pros and cons of their own systems. But when I asked anarchists similar questions, there was generally a kind of hesitancy or wishy-washiness or vagueness which I really didn't get from the marxists. As a poc, I remember a black man had asked anarchists what the solution to a group of racist factory workers voting him out of their work force was and no one had any answers beyond, "well at that stage you really wouldn't expect racism on that level". But the marxists would say racism is a social ill that takes time to combat, even after the revolution thus the proletarian state exists to ensure cases like that are investigated and corrected. A more poignant example would be like the Chinese trans woman who sued her former place of work for firing her for being trans and the state sided with and supported her rights. In some ways, I think I was always inevitably going to go down the marxist route given my family background, but that's not to say I didn't give anarchism a fair shot in the beginning.
More theoretically, the roots of anarchism has always been deeply entwined with petite bourgeois ideology. Similar to liberalism, it supposes that the liberation of the collective comes from the liberation of the self. That's not to say anarchists are liberals (well, actual anarchists anyway), but rather, has been influenced by a deeply individualistic ideology like liberalism. The reason we marxists tend to call anarchists idealists can mainly stem from our biggest disagreement, which is the utilization of the state. It's unreasonable to destroy the greatest tool a class has in the class war once that class gets its hands on it, especially since the bourgeoisie have no qualms about using it as a bludgeon against the proletariat. The state has always been used as a mediator for class warfare and whichever class controls it controls the arbitration on class conflict. Like it or not, revolution, just like the construction of socialism, will come at different times with different arising conditions for every country. It's simply not enough to rely on hopes of either a total revolution or to defend your own revolution without the tools provided by a state. After the October Revolution, the nascent USSR was invaded by over 20 foreign countries and they threw them all out. During the second world war, more than 4 million fascists were killed on the eastern front and the Red Army marched into Berlin in the end. Both feats would be impossible without strong state apparatuses. There's more to it than just this, of course. If you want, you can read a (admittedly, pretty scathing) critique by J.V. Stalin, Anarchism or Socialism?, for some more detailed information.
My last point is that in many online spaces, there's no doubt a big overlap between radlibs and anarchism or at the very least, anarchist aesthetics. I can't tell you how many times I've been called some slur or 'tankie' or some variation of the two by someone presenting themselves to be anarchist who then turn around and say the most unbelievably liberal talking points. I've now come to realize that the reason for this overlap is two-fold. The first is that in liberal democracies, where individualism is extremely strong and thus anarchism, as a more individualistic ideology, appeals more to radlibs. The second is that anarchism is very easily marketable, even more so than marxism. These two kind of go hand-in-hand as well.
In the west and usamerica in particular, we don't have much of a choice in regards to who we side with and I would actually take an anarchist comrade over the "queering the MIC" libs in the DSA or whatever. I'll still jest about about anarchism tho.
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mrslankyman · 5 months
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Cold as Diamonds
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Fanfic for my friend, idk what she sees in him 🙄
Montague (fortnite) x reader
Warning: slight smut
This was the task. Make it to Grand Glaciers and steal Montague's diamond necklace. Which sounded easier in Jonseys head.
For you how ever it would prove to be an unsuccessful mission. With an interesting out come.
You made it over the snow. Grimacing at Jonseys idea of an entrance. You weren’t a well known member of the under ground. You mainly did your work behind a mask. Covering your face. Now you were out without it.
The goal was to ask for help. Montague was hostile you knew that. This was a risk. Get caught and you could end up like Peely.. or worse.
So you made your way down the snowy landscape to the door. A few henchman swatted around. Around you questions. You gave them your best act. Crying and stating you needed somewhere to stay. After all the rich people on the map needed to protect the people. Or else they slip and lose power.
They reluctantly agreed and let you inside. The mansion was nice. A large stair case in the center of the first room. Leading up both ways to the second floor.
“Montague will see you soon.” One of the henchman said watching you as you took a seat on one of the many couches. Just looking around at the books on the many shelves around you.
You mentally took note of any escape routes. Or any ways to get back inside if this went well.
It had been a few minutes. Mind you perhaps an hour. Foot steps came behind you. A throat cleared and a French accent hit your ears.
“Hello.” A simple greeting was given. You turned around. Your eyes took in the man before you. Maybe you’d seen his profile on Hopes computer. Maybe you’d see his file I.D photo but damn.. he looked better in person.
The scar on his eye made him look even more intimidating. The large diamond necklace that laid on his neck was what you came here for.
“Hello.” You stood up quickly giving a weak smile. Playing into the act.
“You need a place to stay I hear? Or help. You have come to the right place.” He smiles but it didn’t seem friendly. It seemed sinister. Like he knew something. But what?
“Yes.. please I need a place to stay.” You agreed eagerly and smiled hopefully. He nodded and snapped his fingers. One of the henchman walking over. “I want you to set up the room beside mine for her. Make it cozy.” He ordered giving the guy some kind of look. He nodded in understanding and hurried off up the stairs.
“Come on. Let’s go get you some dinner.” He cooed in your ear. Was he flirting? Or trying to come off as polite.. the best way you’d assume these rich ass holes could.
You followed him down to the dinning room. It was as you suspected. Grand a large. With a huge table. Despite that he sat beside you at one of the side chairs. Offering you any food you’d like.
A cook would come out and server you both. Laying down the dishes. He thanked them and shooed them off. You noticed he wasn’t carrying his gun you’d always see him with in photos. Interesting. Maybe he had his guard down.
“So, where do you come from?” His voice was low and his accent was giving off a sort of.. vibe. His eyes would land on you as you ate. “Pleasant Plaza.. I had no clue how I got over here. First thing I remember was being in a car and then landing in the snow.” Your story wasn’t a lie. Jonsey set it up like that. Making sure any of the cameras here saw a car and you getting thrown out just a little ways off.
“How terrible.” His hand laid on your thigh with a sympathetic look on his face. Was his accent always this seductive? “I’ll take care of you.” He smiled and leaned closer. The diamond around his neck glistening in the light. His eyes looking deep in mine.
“I’ll give you a gift.” He smiled and got up. He walked out somewhere and came back. Holding a rock. He sat down and smiled. “See this?” He looked at the rock then you. A smirk on his face “yeah..?” You answered confused. He covered the rock with his hand and squeezed. Opening his palm, showing a diamond sitting there now. No rock in sight.
“For you, mon amour.” He bit his bottom lip. He was definitely being seductive. Your heart skipped a beat slightly. Your face flushed. What was happening? He was the enemy.. but he was really attractive.
“Come come, I’ll show you your room.” He slid the diamond into your hand. Giving a quick smile before heading down the hall. You followed quickly not wanting to get lost inside the mansion. It be embarrassing telling Jonsey you couldn’t succeed in the mission because you had gotten lost.
He opened a room door and inside made you gasp. You had never seen such a decorated and suffocated room. You turned to look at Montague who had already made his way over to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, the sheets aren’t the.. most girly.” He chuckled to him self, they were a deep navy blue.
“It doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged and sat down on the edge. This mission could last 1-2 days. If you aren’t back by 3 Jonsey was sure to send in people.
You almost felt bad. You had to take all these people down. It was what was best but.. it be such a waste of a handsome face. He sat down beside you. Letting himself relax a little. “You can stay as long as you like.” His voice was low again. The privacy of the room made your heart beat faster. He was definitely a charmer that was for sure.
“Thank you.” Your voice was soft and lowered to the same tone as his. He leaned in closer. His eyes having this alluring affect on you. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone as beautiful as you in a long time.. I don’t go out much. With all the threats I get.” He slid his hand ontop of yours. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you think I’m handsome, ma chérie?” His lips were so close to yours.
You hesitated. Do you just go for it? Perhaps it’ll confuse him. Enough for you to succeed in the mission.
You leaned in and let his lips touch yours. His being cold yet smooth. Your lips were warm and chapped. Contrasting his. He groaned and pulled you closer. You let out a slight moan letting him push you down on the bed. He pulled away and smirked down at you.
You put your hand on his cheek and smiled. His face flushed and he kisses you again. You closed your eyes and let it happen. He grew tired of his coat restraining his arms. Sliding it off and letting it fall to the floor.
His gloved hands gripped your hips. He smirked as you unbuttoned his vest. Taking it off and leaving him in his black dress shirt and pants.
His diamond necklace still hung at his neck. He loomed over you a playful smile on his face. “Didn’t suspect this.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Nor did I.” You answered honestly.
Part of you knew this would help the mission. Another part of you just wanted to keep going out of selfishness. Montague is very.. attractive. It’s not like this wasn’t what you wanted.
Especially how he kissed you and went down to your neck. He didn’t even know your name but his sweet words like darling, love, and sunshine we’re enough for you.
Things escalated and you laid between his legs on the bed. He smirked down at you as you slid onto his lap. Grinding slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Letting him self enjoy this.
A plan popped up in your head. As you grinned into him you leaned closer. He fell into a hazy feeling. Not having full thought.
As soon as he was too far into bliss you leaned even closer. Using one hand to you grabbed his necklace. You had already found an escape route in the room: get the necklace and jump out the window. There wasn’t that far of a drop. You’d make it out and head to the rail road. Hope had secret passages around.
Once your hand went to his necklace his eyes flung open. He grabbed your hand. A smirk on his face. Your eyes widened and your thoughts froze.
“I knew you were up to something.” his voice seethed. You glared at him your demeanor changing quickly. You squeezed his dick he groaned in pain and you ripped off his necklace. You got off the bed and ran to the window.
Montague struggled to get off the bed. Half embarrassed he’d get caught like this. He should’ve known you were one of those under ground agents. He couldn’t lie you did attract him. Even now you still did. But he wouldn’t let you tell the tale of how embarrassing you got his necklace.
His cold hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around before you could leave. You gripped the necklace.
You struggled against him before he slammed you against the wall. His hand gripping your throat.
“You little bitch. I knew you were up to something.” He shoved you against the wall harder. Your eyes widened. His were icy cold. His brows furrowed and hands soaking the breath out of you. His gloved hands didn’t make it easier for you to get out of his grip.
“Let me go!” You struggled. Dropping his necklace. He grabbed it and laughed. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” *he leaned closer his eyes growing even more sinister.
He gripped his necklace hoping the power still worked. He threw you against the wall again. Shards of diamonds bursting through the wall. You stared at them. They were sharp and sparkled in the room light. You soon turned back to him. You could feel your self slowly growing colder. What was he doing?
You looked down. Your skin on your neck around his hands were growing blue. Crystal like diamond. Was he turning you into diamond?
“Montague! Wait- I’ll do anything!” You squirmed. He laughed and let go of you. It was too late. The spot he had touched would always be diamond. A reminder of his touch.
“Oh I have a good plan for you. I think your friend Peely will love to have some company.” He flew his hands down at your feet. Diamonds bursting through the floor. Your feet turning to diamond. You fell off.
A shard of diamond piercing you through the back.
“Tell Jonsey he’s never gonna see his friend again.” Those we’re the last words you heard before the icy cold feeling of the diamond coursed through your body.
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thedovesaredying · 3 months
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Flames of Green | CoD x GoT/HotD | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Part 1.
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Artwork by Elizabeth
You're the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest child of the current king with the blood of the Targaryens flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, you're due to be married off to a mysterious Northern lord by the name of John MacTavish. At least your closest friend and member of your guard, Simon Riley, will be by your side throughout it all.
A/N: I'm back in my House of the Dragon era, so I'm mixing hyperfixations. The Cannibal doesn't get enough love, he's a nasty bastard and he deserves to cause some chaos. It will eventually be a Ghost x Reader x Soap relationship and likely a bit of a slowburn. Literally just for my own entertainment, but I hope y'all enjoy.
Warnings: None
Masterlist: CoD Masterlist
Next
It’s times like this that you mourn the loss of your youth. Forced to sit in silence while discussions are held by old men around a table, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of your future marriage to every potential high lord in Westeros. Your opinion is never considered, let alone asked for by any of your father’s advisors, your compliance expected regardless.  
If you had been born a man you could have your pick of any woman in the kingdom to take as a wife, but instead, you’re forced to simply accept whatever man is placed in front of you. Such is the burden of being the princess and heir to House Targaryen. You will be made to give up the right to rule the kingdom to the high lord assigned to you, never to touch the ever-elusive Iron Throne that should have been yours by right.  
You had never really taken the prospect of marriage too seriously in your youth, always considering it a problem for the you of the future to deal with. You didn’t care to forge lasting alliances with other ladies and lords, too busy dragging your poor best friend, Simon, through the gardens and dirtying your extravagant dresses. 
But those days were over. 
Talk of wedding a powerful lord and bringing forth the next line of Targaryen children is all that fills your ears now. You’re forced to entertain every man, young and old, that wishes to gain your favour with a polite smile and feigned interest. You don’t even have your dear Simon to offer you his companionship and a break from the cruel realities of the world. No doubt he would have entertained you with his dry remarks about each man set before you.  
It has been years since you last saw Simon. He was taken from the Red Keep by his father and sent to squire for another lord in the hopes of teaching him the art of warfare. Lord Riley was a foul man, constantly berating his son for spending his time with the Princess rather than roughhousing with his fellow boys. He considered the boy too soft and squeamish at the sight of blood to make a good future lord of their keep.  
You disagreed, of course, Simon was perfect just the way he was; gentle and kind to all those around him. Your friend couldn’t hurt a fly, but he was still one of the bravest people you knew.  
You dread to think just how much he would have hated being drawn into battles, forced to kill other men with his own hands. The letters he occasionally wrote to you always steered clear of depicting the violence you were certain he must have been subjected to, but you’re far from naive enough to hope he has yet to participate in any bloodshed. As the years dragged on, word from him has grown scarce, however, to the point where you can hardly remember when you heard from him last.  
What you do know, is that he had been sent to offer assistance in maintaining peace throughout the Stepstones, killing raiders and pirates that would endanger trade routes to King’s Landing.  
But that was almost six months ago, and there has been little else to soothe your vexed nerves over his safety. He had made a promise to you the day he left, that once his training was done he would return to your side, this time as a knight who would offer himself to your Queen’s Guard once the time was right. Never again would he leave you, more than happy to forfeit the ruling of his own homeland if it meant he could keep you safe.  
You had clung to that promise every day for years after his departure, but with each passing moment it become harder to hold out hope of seeing him again. After all, what is one promise between children in the grand scheme of things?  
It’s a blessing when you’re finally relieved from the meeting, escaping from the suffocating air within the council chambers and fleeing to the safety of your room. You don’t even pause to ensure one of your guards is following you, getting straight to stripping from your dress and replacing it with your riding gear.  
As the carriage carries you away from the city and toward the Dragon Pit your nerves begin to settle. The constant odour of sweat and excrement quickly gives way to fresh air the further away you get. It’s a beautiful day, with hardly a cloud in the sky and wildflowers blooming all along the road. It’s a genuine shame that your day has started so poorly, otherwise you’d have loved to wander the palace gardens and enjoy the midday sun.  
The ground is rocky outside of the dragon pit, and you’re jostled around a bit until the carriage comes to a stop. Although this is your destination, the dragon you seek is not here. Your dragon is far too large to be housed within the Pit.  
Unlike your younger sister, you were not blessed by the Gods to have your dragon egg hatch while you were in the cradle. All throughout your childhood you sat next to it and prayed for the hatchling to come forth, promising you would care for the creature and love it more than anything. But the baby dragon never arrived.  
Many said that it was a sign from the Gods, that you were unfit to be the heir if even your own dragon refused to hatch for you. It was a heavy sentence hanging around your neck, weighing you down and making you feel as though you are worthless, despite the fact you have more power than most of the people laughing at your situation.  
None of them are laughing now.  
You see your dragon stretched out atop one of the nearby ridges. He’s so large that his wings and tail drape over the edge of the rocks, entirely unconcerned by the humans fearfully gathered beneath him as he snoozes away in the warmth of the sun. His scales are like coal, absorbing every ray of sunshine that he can.  
The Cannibal may not be as large as Vhagar, but he’s far older and, as many would argue, far meaner than the old girl. Where most dragons have vibrant, golden eyes, you’re greeted by a pair of sinister green the moment you draw near. His go-to reaction to most things is aggression, and you’ve seen many people meet their end in a blast of emerald flame for merely disturbing him.  
It’s for that precise reason you’re stunned to see someone standing beside the grumpy old beast. There’s only one person other than yourself who could get anywhere near the Cannibal without immediately being swallowed whole. The man pauses his rubbing of your dragon’s scales the moment he sees you, only to earn a displeased whack from the Cannibal’s snout. You bite your lip to force down the grin that’s threatening to spread across your face when the man drops down to one knee, his head bowed respectfully.  
“Lord Riley,” you nod, “I do believe that’s my dragon you’re touching.” That earns a groan from the Cannibal, his massive head twisting away from you both, as though already bored of the conversation.  
“A thousand apologies, princess,” Simon grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “your dragon was growing impatient.” The dragon in question huffs, his tail twitching like an agitated cat.  
Simon looks so different from the last time you saw him. He’s both taller and broader, completely filled out with muscles. When he stands again, you’re face to face with the rather intimidating bone mask adorning his face. You’re not certain if it’s real bone, but at that moment you could have cared less, throwing yourself at the large man.  
He catches you easily, holding you tightly against his larger body. It’s entirely improper and if anyone other than your guards witnessed such an interaction there would no doubt be whispers abound. Perhaps it’s a good thing Simon decided to meet you somewhere so private.  
“When did you get back?” you ask, leaning back just long enough to look him in the eye.  
“We docked late last night,” he answers, and you can feel the way his chest rumbles with each word. His deep voice soothes something within you, your stress dissipating like mist at dawn. “We received word that the King’s Guard now has an open position,” he continues, and then much to your shock adds, “I’m here to fill that position.”  
You pull away from him almost completely, only your hands still gently curled around his gauntlets, “but I heard that your father was recently taken ill, don’t you need to return home?”  
While the mask hides the majority of Simon’s face, you can still see the way the skin around his eyes crinkles slightly, “I made a promise to serve my future Queen,” he takes your hand from his arm and presses the back of your palm to where his lips are beneath his mask, “if you’ll have me, princess.”  
You can feel your face burning with the intensity with which Simon stares at you. “I’m certain my father will be delighted to have such a well-regarded warrior in his service,” you smile, gently pulling your hands away from the knight, despite the urge to keep holding onto him.  
Before you can continue the conversation, the Cannibal turns his head back to your again, nudging at you with an irritated huff. His breath is scalding against your skin, yet it doesn’t burn you, thankfully. You place your hand against the beast’s snout, feeling the thick scales shift under your leather gloves. “Gīda,” you coo to the dragon, waiting until he lowers his wing to the floor to provide you with a way to climb onto his back. He’s far too large for you to mount the same way you would a younger dragon.  
Once settling into the Cannibal’s saddle, you grin down at your friend, “I look forward to seeing you in the keep, my lord.” You only have the time to see Simon’s quick nod, before your dragon is leaping from the edge of the ridge, forcing an end to your conversation. You can feel his clear exasperation through your bond and ensure to give the old dragon a scratch to the neck.  
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minicoffee00 · 8 months
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I don’t ask for much - Cassian x Rhysand Sister Reader.
POV: After Rhys asks to stay with Reader all the time when she is up in the Illyrian mountains, when she doesn’t want to come to the camps with him after the first day made her uncomfortable. He comes back to a site he never wants to see again.
Warnings: Blood
You felt uncomfortable with the amount of stares you got when Cassian made you come to the training camps with him.
All the men had stared at you as if you were this log of meat on a stick.
It was well known among all of Night Court, even through Illyria that you, as Rhysand little sister, had never taken a man to bed after your first bleed. By the time it had occurred Rhysand was High Lord and he forbade anyone from clipping his little sisters wings.
She was waiting for her mate that would be the only person she would ever give herself too.
You were of course a force to be reckoned with, rivalling your brother in his powers in every way. You grew up with Rhysand teaching, politics and how to be a true Princess of the Night Court, while Azriel would teach you how to fly, and from Cassian you learnt how to fight like a true Illyrian. You’d received Siphons over the years, being only 100 years younger than Rhysand you’d caught up to his maturity quickly.
So Rhysand having to deal with Feyre being stuck in the Spring Court and Azriel and his spies tracking through the Autumn and Winter courts meant you had to go to where your route led.
Illyria.
As a female, who had drive to be a warrior you were shunned daily, even with the trio to protect you, you were still called names and taunted by their piers.
So going back didn’t have the same energy. Rhysand had strict instructions for Cassian to follow.
1. Do not let her leave your site
2. Please make sure she is eating and drinking enough, the mountains are cold this time of year and she needs the energy.
3. Do not allow any danger to come to her
The first day in the mountains was awful. Even though you weren’t that scared little girl anymore who followed her brothers every move, the bullies were no longer gangly twiggy boys that looked like the wind would blow them off the cliff edge.
No, now they resembled Cassian’s hard training, they were all buff with rippling muscles and six packs that looked more like washboards to her.
They clearly also thought the same for you, you weren’t that scared little girl who was begging for her wings to be clipped whenever she trailed along after her brother who was trying to train. You were a beautiful woman, who resembled only grace and purity.
The men of course couldn’t keep their eyes off you or their mouths closed from saying god awful things about you and your body.
You were tense for the rest of the day watching your back, making sure no one was coming close to you apart from Cassian.
The next day came, and you refused to leave the cabin, asking if Cassian had seen how they’d treasured you.
His answer was short, explaining that Rhys had requested not to let you leave his site.
It was a compromise in the end where he would go speak to them for only 10 minutes to get them set up and motivated for the day before he would take you home and get Mor to come back from the Hwen City for a few days.
“Not to watch over you, just as a friend” Cassian had tried to assure you but it hadn’t really worked.
He left you in the cabin, you saw a canvas and some paint, and you started to use the brush and colours to make out the Starfall of Valeris and what you remembered the last one to look like as you had pined for your brother to come back safe and sound.
10 minutes turned in 20 and 20 turned in 30 minutes and soon you were getting anxious if something had happened to Cass on his flight over.
What you hadn’t expected was three guys to barge in holding you down, a knife to your throat digging in enough to wield blood.
“Hello Princess, how’s it been all these years knowing you escaped us” the seemingly oldest one based on looks asked you. They had gagged you so you couldn’t say anything back, the one to his left laughing a little.
And that was the last moments your wings would have their little flutter you lover so much. The last time you would fly was a week ago with Rhysand over Valeris. For now they had just shredded your wings, completely off.
You thought to yourself that it would be less pain if they had cut them clean off, and kept them as a trophy.
Blood poured down your back and from the small cut on your throat.
“Now, your going to paint in your own fucking shade or red bitch, or tomorrow we come back for more fun” he spits, before him and his group of thugs join him at his side exciting the cabin.
You obeyed, being in too much pain to do anything else other than take that order on the chin, you were ashamed that as the Princess they had gotten the upper hand and had the audacity to command you.
Cassian was currently haven’t a what he didn’t realise was a pre-emptied brawl. They had said could things about you again, little did he know it was a distraction so some of them could get to you in the cabin.
The only tell tale sign was the smell of your blood on the hair of one of the now slightly wet returning males.
“Where have you been” he growls out. Knowing exactly where.
“To pay that little bitch a visit” the Illyrian warrior smirks. Cassian grunts pushing forward and sliding the sword across his arm.
“I’m not gonna kill you, because Rhysand would kill me for letting the guy who hurt Y/N not be at HIS mercy” Cassian grins a devilish grin that makes most of the men shudder.
He flies of straight for the cabin. Finding you painting in a pool of your own blood, your wings in shreds as silent tears rolled down your face. The thing that crushed him the most what that you’d painted your own shredded wings in the pigment of blood, your blood.
“We need to get you to Majda, Cauldron im so sorry” he speaks picking you up and holding you into him.
“Ow it hurts” you cry, into his chest hoping that you pass out so you can’t feel it anymore or that it just goes away. The second was an unlikely situation though.
“ I know I know I’m so so sorry cupcake. Rhys is gonna kill me” he mumbles exiting the house and flying her straight to Madja’s healing house.
“Madja” he bellows and she comes running out gasping at the sight of the crowned Princess. Immediately he can tell that she has reached out to Rhysand who seems to already be back home. As the next thing he hears, sends shivers down his spine.
“I don’t ask for much Cassian” he growls into his mind.
Taglist:
@cat-or-kitten @sstrohma @horneybeach1 @its-sam-allgood @starryhiraeth @xcastawayherosx @glitterypirateduck @azriels-mate123
Hope you guys enjoy some Cassian. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have another Azriel part up for Fast Changes! Let me know if you want or if this needs a part 2
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st-el-la-luna · 5 months
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Thinking about König
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Mainly, thinking about his anxiety being like my anxiety. It's social anxiety but more than the "oh no, people, scary!" That people tend to generalize it as.
That's not to say that it isn't like that. Yes, people are intimidating, especially large groups of them. Or if you're being put in a command position. Or if you're in a position to be judged... Which is most situations. (Public speaking, especially for school projects is especially bad).
But it's not just shyness. It's also the aversion.
Walking through the halls, with a dead sort of stare. Not intentionally intimidating, but it's very much a resting bitch face, look at me and I'll kill you sort of expression.
Saying as little as possible to people he's not comfortable with.
"yes."
"no."
"I don't like that."
"I don't want to."
"we are not friends."
Staring so intently at people that it unsettles them.
"-and that's why I think... Why... It's... Is everything okay, Colonel?"
"Ja, why?"
"You're, uh... You're looking very intently."
"This is just how I look. Eye contact is important."
"uhh... Right, it's just... I haven't seen you blink?"
"I blink when you blink."
Like, yes, of course there are situations where he gets mousy voiced or sweaty palms. But not at work, no. At work he's able to conjure up, maybe not confidence, but something.
At a restaurant though? Speaking softly, making himself small, saying please and thank you after every sentence. It doesn't matter what the server does, he's always soft spoken and polite, nervous. If he asks for no pickles and they bring him his dish with pickles, he'll eat it. If he orders a chicken sandwich and they bring him a burger, he'll eat it. If he tells them that he has a deadly peanut allergy and they bring him a tub of peanut butter... He'll send that back, but he'll be polite about it.
"Oh, ja, I'm sorry, I... This isn't what I ordered. Oh, no, no, it's okay, don't apologize. I'm sorry. You're busy. It's fine, I understand."
Sometimes during mission briefs he will randomly growl and smack his fist on the table. People think he's mad at them and straighten up, stop sipping so loud, on their best behaviour. He actually just got mad at himself, remembered something embarrassing from his past.
He almost acts like a narcissist. Passes by a mirror, winks at his reflection: "How's it going, good looking?"
Makes jokes about being the pretty one. People think he's full of himself.
He actually hates himself but has replaced negative self talk with show boating. He doesn't hate himself any less, but he tells himself to kill himself way less often!
Always has some sort of plan. An escape route, a plan of attack. Watching the people around him nervously.
Sits in the back of the room so he can watch everybody. Sits with his chair pushed far back so he can stand quicker.
Glares at people who walk by. Gives their dogs heart eyes. Prays that the owners realize and ask him if he wants to say hello. He's too awkward to ask permission. And he's too angry looking for people to offer.
Represses lots of anger from incidents he feels he can't lash out in, goes batshit in training or on missions. (I used to do kick boxing, the gym people had to keep coming up to me and moving my punching bag back because I was hitting it too hard).
The kind of person to, when going to someone's house, immediately look for signs of a pet. If he finds it. The animal is now his best friend. Goes to a party hangs with the dog type of beat.
Thinks smoking pot would help him. But the idea makes him nervous. Which he thinks, smoking pot would help... But the idea of smoking pot makes him nervous. But he–
Will just lie to get out of shit.
"Hey, we're going to get drinks tonight, do you want to come?"
"ah, I can't... I promised to get dinner with a friend."
Goes home and enjoys a night alone.
Avoidant. Will just not do things that cause him stress. Hasn't been to the dentist in years because talking to the lady at reception makes him nervous. What if the phone signal is bad? What if it just keeps breaking up? What if she can't understand his accent? What if when he gets to the dentist they hate him for the state of his teeth? What if he goes to the dentist and they steal his teeth?! It's happened before! He's seen articles!
Gets adopted by extroverts by being unhinged.
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Horangi asks.
"I heard that human meat tastes like pork... The best pork, actually." König says absently.
"Huh... And you know this why?"
"I was curious."
"okay... Let's go to dinner."
"Ja, let's."
A sort of dry air about him that comes off as a lack of empathy. But he's just got so much going on in his brain that he can't focus on emoting anything but augghskft.
Will stare off into space with a blend of the hundred yard stare and the most murderous expression known to man. He's not mad. He's just thinking.
Undiagnosed autism
Forgets people's names, gets to nervous to ask again. So he just calls everyone "you".
Acts cold and indifferent. He just really hates small talk, doesn't understand it. Why say something if it's not important? He doesn't care about your grandchildren. Or your wife. Or your morning.
Is the world's best host mainly out of fear. Asking if you need food or a drink or a blanket or if–
König who after confrontations, has to take a step back, hands shaking slightly. But who's also still super pissed and ready to throw punches at the drop of a hat
König who worries so much about physical affection that it just becomes too much. Hugs are suffocating, hands are held too tight, cuddling is like being smothers. But it takes him a long time to initiate anything. God forbid you initiate anything. Hug the man and he bluescreens
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cum-villain · 1 year
Text
Ron Desantis is a name many of us are familiar with, sadly. This beta male is known for his hateful policies, and generally disgraceful demeanor. However, I will prove the following fact to you all: He is not, in fact, a beta.
He is an omega taking heat suppressants.
1. Why He Hides It
Before we begin, let us ask ourselves the following: if my hypothesis is correct, why would he hide his dynamic? There are multiple reasons. The first of which: The inconvenience of heats.
Ron Desantis hopes to be a successful politician. As such, going into states of lust and slicking every month would interfere with the amount of time he can spend on his career. Additionally, it may very well open himself up for scandals. Taking heat suppressants thus frees up his schedule, and helps him keep his reputation, though I must emphasize to the omegas reading this that I do not hold any anti-omega beliefs. However, the political world today is not kind to omegas, which brings me to the second reason.
Politicians, as with many authority figures, are expected to be strong, sturdy, guarding alphas, not caring, nurturing omegas. Of course, not every alpha or omega fits the stereotype, but the stereotypes are pervasive. There's a reason that Donald Trump, an alpha, is more popular among conservatives then Ron Desantis, a ''beta''. It already is a slight blow to be seen as a beta, being known as an omega would be even more harmful to him. However I don't care about his career and in fact want him gone so I'm making this post.
2. His Omega Traits
My first proof is his personality. While it is not true that every person of a certain dynamic will have the same personality, certain traits are scientifically proven to correlate with one's dynamic. For example, not every alpha is quick to punch, or willing to fight to the death for a mate's honor, alphas in general to tend to be more possessive, more stubborn. These are not bad traits, but can be used to pinpoint a person's true dynamic.
For example: Omegas tend to be more passive. This article by the New York Times described Ron Desantis's political strategy as such:
One route for a candidate like DeSantis... is to win the nomination without crossing Trump... However, that strategy is passive.
3. Symptoms of Heat Suppressants
Heat suppressants have recognizable symptoms, if one knows where to look. Here's the ones he shows
First off, heat suppressants rarely remove all traces of being in heat. They often dont mask the scent on their own, for example, requiring scent suppressants and/or false scents. Scent suppressants are easily noticeable, as they are a lack of a scent. While betas do not have the strong scents of alphas or omegas, they do have some scent, which scent suppressants remove. Ron Desantis likely uses them as well as false scents, but the false scents must also be there.
I'm sure we all remember when Trump was on one of his usual bullying tirades, the last one directed at Desantis, where he mentioned his secnts being strange. False scents are in fact noticeable by those with a keen nose, and Trump's businessman background leads me to believe he would have that experience.
Secondly, while emotional states are not nearly as wild when off of heat suppressants, ones emotions instead are mildly high-strung for the entirety of ones cycle to offset the hormonal buildup. Look at that man and tell me hes experiencing a beta male's calm.
4. Final Proof
(This helpful chart was provided by @curioscurio)
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5. Why Does It Matter?
Ron Desantis's extremely bigoted platform is based on a lie he tells his supporters. While in most cases I would not nearly be this aggrieved by an omega pretending to be a beta (as anti-omega sentiments do exist), Desantis doesn't lie simply to balance the scales, but to inflict harm upon others. If we get the word out to his supports, then its extremely likely they won't like the truth, and Desantis will fall from the tower of hatred he built when it's torn to shreds by his wicked flock. So please, reblog this, and one day we may be free of Desantis.
(ty for reading this satire lol)
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besaya-glantaya · 7 months
Text
Thoughts on Alex being wrong and loving it
Red White and Royal Blue (2023 movie)
Remember the little quip Henry makes about admiring Alex's willingness to admit when he's wrong? It's such a great moment of foreshadowing, especially since Henry has no idea just how right he is.
Alex prizes himself on being someone who is skilled at reading people, at seeing the person beneath the surface, but he's never come across anyone quite like Henry before.
Alex must be used to people hiding who they truly are - he's been steeped in American politics for years - but he probably isn't expecting anyone from such a legacy of historic power and entitlement to be, at their core, an actual cinnamon roll.
Their initial meeting also comes at a time in Henry's life when any chink in his armour reveals only pain and anger, leading Alex to assume that what lies behind the carefully controlled façade isn't pleasant.
This assumption is only reinforced by further antagonistic interactions, fuelled by Henry's attempts to balance civility while protecting his heart as Alex consistently pulls Henry's metaphorical pigtails.
The fallout from cakegate forces them into extended periods of proximity and we see Alex start to glimpse pieces of the real Henry beneath his bland public persona. Each further piece that's revealed surprises and delights Alex and it's a joy to watch Taylor Zakhar Perez bring those moments to life.
Allow me to ramble about some of these:
1. Alex's pause of panic followed by surprised relief as Henry suavely responds to the interview question, "How did you end up on the floor of Buckingham Palace, covered in cake?" Alex's relief is two fold: he was floundering with no idea what to say (shouldn't have rebuffed Henry's request to prepare for this interview, Alex...) and Henry's answer is not at all what Alex was expecting. Henry could easily have attributed the event to clumsiness or tomfoolery on Alex's part - even just by subtle implication. That wouldn't have been out of line with some of Alex's answers (e.g., "Three words to describe Henry? Um... White, blond and British.") but Henry chooses a more protective route, deflecting attention from Alex, which comes as a pleasant surprise. [Of course he can't show this, so instead retaliates with something as annoying as possible. Cue side eye from Henry.]
2. Alex's big-eyed expression of sympathy as Henry tells him the Palace insisted on parading him around while he was grieving for his father. It's the key moment Alex realises he's built a lot of assumptions on a misunderstanding and has probably treated Henry rather unfairly.
3. Alex frowning at Henry talking and laughing with the little girl in the hospital bed. He's seeing Henry through a new lens and realises this picture doesn’t fit with a lot of his previous assumptions.
4. Alex shaking his head at Henry's joking attempt to decline an invite to his NYE party that most people would kill to get. "That's perfect, you kill me and then I won't have to go." It's the first time Henry uses his sharp wit to share a joke with Alex, rather than directing it at him in a fit of pique. It's an olive branch and I don't think Alex was expecting such easy forgiveness.
5. The sublime series of text based interactions where Alex is surprised and charmed by Henry flirting (under the guise of gentle ridicule).
6. The iconic "I can't believe how wrong I was about you," while he and Henry are as close as two people can get.
7. My all time favourite: Alex's reaction to Henry pointing out the yellow roses on his tie. Henry employs this in a sweet distraction during a moment of all encompassing anxiety for Alex. It's enough to bring Alex out of his fog, to realise how much strength he draws just from Henry being there to support him. The way Taylor says "Oh my god. I'm so grateful you are here," is perfection.
I'm a gooey mess thinking about all the future moments where Alex is surprised and overwhelmed by Henry's kindess.
[Sobs]
On a related note @mulderscully has a great post titled: Alex's headshake of Love™, which captures several of these moments, and more, in perfect gif form.
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markantonys · 3 months
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In the books Rand completely rejects his Aiel heritage. Jordan seemed to be going with telling the story of an adopted kid who decided only his adopted family mattered. But that's not the only way to tell that story so the show has the opportunity to do something different there if they want to. My preference would be not to have Rand reject his Aiel heritage but to refuse to abandon his Andoran heritage/Two Rivers upbringing. The Aiel canonically want him to become fully Aiel so for him to refuse to give up part of himself could be another way to frame it . They also resent the fact that Rand is only half Aiel and wasn't born in the Waste so they could do more of that imo
i'm trying to think of a useful response but my brain is too occupied by the sudden realization of the Bi Metaphor of rand being too aiel to fit in with wetlanders and too wetlander to fit in with aiel hahaha
anyway, from what i can remember, i don't know if i would say rand *completely* rejects his aiel heritage in the books (at least until the point when RJ himself shuffled the aiel off to the side in general because he wanted to play with the seanchan instead). i may be misremembering but i think rand DOES put in genuine effort to learn about aiel ways, but is just really bad at it and gets easily frustrated with trying to keep track of all the intricacies (which is completely understandable, especially since the aiel are making very little effort to adapt to HIS culture or meet him in the middle). and he IS curious about shaiel and janduin and is emotionally affected by hearing about them from the wise ones, even if he ultimately decides that tam and kari are his true parents (as he should! like you say, it's a great repudiation of the "blood family>adopted family" trope that is so prevalent in media and especially in fantasy where the Normie Adopted Family so often gets swept aside once the hero finds out about their Super-Special Secret Birth Family.)
and he knows that he needs to *be seen* adapting to aiel culture in some way in order to get the aiel's support, which is another interesting wrinkle in the whole situation, because his public behavior and his internal feelings are not necessarily aligned (i'm thinking of the alcair dal scene where i think all those lines about tam being his real father are just in his head as he's talking aloud to the aiel about being janduin's son). i'm not bothered by that sort of "i need to publicly buy into my aiel heritage but in my heart it's not who i am" attitude because i think it's pretty realistic for his situation. and maybe he starts shifting from "i just need to be seen doing this for political reasons" over to "i genuinely do respect aiel culture and want to learn about it, even if i'll never consider it MY culture" as he gets emotionally closer with aviendha and some of the other aiel.
but at the end of the day, while i like the aiel and find their culture interesting, i'm not nearly as invested in them as i get the sense many WOT fans are haha (see: me finding the glass columns sequence quite boring and being utterly bamboozled to discover that most readers list it as one of the best scenes in the series) and so i just don't feel very strongly about what route the show takes re: rand's relationship with aiel culture and his aiel heritage. and also probably have a fuzzy memory on a lot of the book details on this topic!
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gilbirda · 2 years
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This mostly stemmed from the constant image of Jason being so disgustingly enamored with Jazz [the twirling-his-hair-heart-eyes-and-being so-unfocused-on-important-shit lovesick] that the batfam finds it bizarre rather than cute
The most I got is Ember rolling into Gotham looking for a bigger crowd [I guess], Jazz, interning at Arkham as the popular saying goes, tries dealing with her and Jason obviously steps in cause Crime Alley business is his business and smth about this new rocker chicks smells fishy.
I'm guessing you know where this is going?
Ember gets away, off to collect a following as she does.
Jazz is prepared for ghost nonsense, but she was not prepared for this vigilant built like a brick house to suddenly be mooning over her. So she reluctantly knocks this guy's lights out and leaves him in some alley [maybe checks him over for what she hopes is a panic button and leaves the bats to it]
The bats find him and bring him home, and thus have to deal with their uncharacteristically goofy, lovestruck family member going on and on about some redhead. He's talking about her long pretty hair, the color of her eyes, the way she kicked ass, her bossiness.
They can't get anything useful out of him.
It's both sickening and blackmail worthy
Cue batfam looking into the whole Ember business all while trying to keep Jason from wandering off in search of Jazz and keep him from potentially exposing himself or embarrassing himself. Meanwhile, Jazz is also trying to deal with Ember and maybe calling in the big guns....
Cue flustered Jazz having some weird ass run-ins with the bats and watching them as they try to keep an embarrassingly enamored Red Hood in check [The dude is probably singing her sonnets and all sorts of romantic shit]
[He refused to stay home, he wanted the chance to see her]
Hmmm, not much room to figure out a route for potential romance there :p
FAM
I THINK YOU HAVE A WHOLE ASS FIC RIGHT THERE
I would read it!!!
I mean, Jazz could acknowledge that this stranger is under a spell and doesn't really like, like her, so she's understanding and kind?
She still needs to deal with the ghost situation without Batman knowing what really is going on, so she has to outsmart the bats while she outruns this guy that's reciting very cute poetry oh my god he should write it down and publish it! and defeat Ember on her own.
She calls the big guns. She is strong, but she knows when she's overwhelmed.
Team Phantom deals with Ember as she deals with the bats. After all, she needs to make herself a distraction from the whole ghost-is-mind-controlling-people, and they are following her anyway, so she just-
she leaves fake clues?
It's actually really fun!!! She has taken a support role when helping her brother, and spreading her wings like this, running around the city at night and testing the limits of her liminal abilities, IS FUN.
And the guy, he said his name was Jay but she stopped him before he could say more, is actually very fun to talk to. When she is caught by him before the others and they get to interact, she sits down and studies him and what he uses to romance - it strikes her that he can quote plays and books at the drop of a hat (that is not the spell, this guy legit has memorized those) and that he is actually very polite?
Spell or no spell, it's been a while since she talked to someone like this. Nerding out.
But then Ember is defeated and the spell is broken and she is bummed that it's over but hey, it's been a fun experience!
And this dude remembers what happened too? He is very sorry and she assures him that it's totally fine and that he didn't say anything compromising about his identity.
And so they go back to their normal lives
except-
she misses him? It was fun and it was all a spell, but she misses him. It's silly, because there's no way a whole ass vigilante with probably a busy life is interested in silly romance?
And then this guy finds her one time as she was going home. He's just checking on her, really, because it must have been stressing dealing with all of that. He says he is sorry about being clingy and, well, she's been cool about it but wanted to make sure it was all fine.
He's being nice, she thinks.
He asks her if it could be cool to keep in touch. Because, uh, books? He wanted to know more about that theory she mentioned and maybe when they had a free schedule she wanted to grab a drink?
Yeah, sure. She gives him her number. How else would he contact her? By being a creep and stalk her to her house? No thank you.
And that's how Jazz ends up being courted by a Bat and doesn't realize what's going on.
Yes I hc her as aspec, what about it
-----
OOF
THIS GOT OUT OF MY HANDS!
If anyone wants to add, go ahead!
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mudisgranapat · 6 months
Text
II. Crash
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Word count: 3,9 k
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Content: zombie apocalypse, mention of dead bodies, mention of dead children, mention of death, children, enemies to lovers, slow burn
Taglist: @poohkie90 @gaida-511
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Note: If the storyline is confusing at some point, please let me know so I can explain with more detail! Also, there is some stuff that will make more sense with time, so have that in mind. I'm trying to make this a bit realistic, so it will be a slowish-burn. With all that said, have fun :)
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He doesn’t surprise himself with how fast his reflexes kick in anymore - the cameras were only on for seconds before Simon shot them down. He remembered where each one of them was, he barely had to look in their direction before aiming; besides, there was no use being discreet now. There was a reason Simon Riley had survived every single test life had put him through. He was fucking good at what he did. 
It was also the exact same reason why he didn’t have a life outside of work. He was a soldier with every fiber of his body: he acted like war. He didn’t take the least aggressive route, and he didn’t put people before the mission’s goal. His hands had a mind of their own when they curled into fists and when they held a gun it was turned into an extension of his body. 
None of those were compatible with dealing with an infant, and that was why, following the sound of the gunshots, a terrified cry erupted from the tiny baby’s body. Simon could swear that the noise was more aggravating than the sound of a thousand grenades exploding in his ears. All he could do was stare back at the baby through the hollow eyes of his skull mask, watching as the little girl’s face started to turn red.
“Are you out of your mind?” He didn’t need to look to know where that voice was coming from. Any small progress they had made into turning the girl into a less angry version of herself had gone out the window, and she was back to giving what seemed to be her signature disapproving glare. Somehow, the fact that Simon towered over her didn’t seem to scare the attitude out of her body. He wondered what would. “Do you not realize that there is a child by your side? You could have busted her eardrums!”
“I’m sorry about that.” Gaz says quickly. He seems to feel guilty about the whole thing, which Simon doesn’t understand. He had eliminated the threat most efficiently; if anything, she should be thankful that whoever had access to those cameras would only have seconds' worth of footage. 
“You’re not going to say anything?” She insists. Soap watches with an amusing grin. He had never seen someone challenge Ghost like that, especially when he was dressed with his whole skull mask, skeleton gloves, and tactical gear combo. The Sergeant swore he could see his Lieutenant’s eyebrow raise in surprise behind the mask. 
“A deaf baby is better than a dead one.” Simon states dryly. Y/N’s mouth drops open with an offended gasp and, seeing that as his cue, Johnny intervenes to stop the situation from escalating. He knew Simon wasn’t exactly a patient guy, and he was surprised that Ghost had stayed quiet for this long. Not that he would ever make small talk, but he figured that by now he would have at least told the woman to leave him alone, probably not so politely. Now he wished Ghost was mute, so he wouldn’t have to deal with him insulting a child.
“We’re sorry about that, lass.” He notices that there is still some urgency that lies beneath her words, and he wonders where such worry about being seen by the cameras comes from.  “Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” That was a phrase every soldier was trained to say, and it slipped out of Soap’s lips easily while he put a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to reassure people and get them to trust you, and he pushes further to try and get some information out of her. “What are you not telling us? I’m sure we can help you.” 
She doesn’t try to pretend she has nothing to hide but doesn’t seem willing to open up either. “Yeah, like you would care. I know you just came here to do your job, so don’t pretend you care about the damage you leave behind. I know the type of guy your little group is made of.” She pushes the hand away from her shoulder and starts to sway the baby in her arms, her venomous tone quickly switching into a sweet one as she whispers calming words into the little girl’s ears. 
“We’re not here to hurt you, or cause any trouble.” It’s the Captain’s turn to intervene, and he shoots Simon a dirty look, like a dad that reprimands their child for saying something that, albeit true, is incredibly rude. “I know this must be scary for you. And I don’t mean just the four of us walking into your house, armed. Caring for a baby in a situation like this must not be easy.” 
Maybe it’s the crying, maybe it’s the Captain’s voice (the old man can be sweet when he wants to), but she finally seems to let her walls crumble a little bit. Sitting on a nearby chair, she lets out an exasperated sigh. She looks at the baby with eyes so lovingly that they almost make Simon believe that he too could be loved. “You don’t understand. It’s more complicated than it looks.” 
“Try me.” John gives her an encouraging smile and pulls a chair for him to sit. He has one of those faces that makes you want to trust him with your life. Simon envied that about John. Sometimes he looked in the mirror and wondered if people only saw Ghost when they looked into his eyes, even after the mask was gone. He knows he does, every morning when he stares back at the lifeless eyes that watch him through the mirror. Every time he takes his mask off, he wonders if he should sew it permanently into his face - maybe then he would have an excuse to never get rid of Ghost, and let Simon slowly wither into the memory of a man he had always been.
Y/N looks at Simon, and and the hesitance behind her eyes when she looks into his, lets him know that she only sees Ghost. “I stole something from the Resistance.” She finally admits. “They are looking for me, that’s why I’ve been hiding in here.” She takes a shaky breath. “They are going to kill me if they find me.” The second part of her confession is quieter, as if she didn’t want the baby to hear the terrible faith that awaited her. 
“We won’t let that happen. We have a safe place, you can come with us.” That suggestion goes against every single one of Simon’s instincts, and he genuinely starts to worry for his Cpatian’s sanity. They can’t afford two more mouths to feed, two more people to take care of, two more people to share their resources with. But then he looks around and notices that neither Soap nor Gaz seem to disagree with Price’s offer. Then, he realizes that this is just another one of those moments where his stone-cold persona stops him from understanding why people would offer things just for the sake of being kind. 
“In apocalypse lingo that means you have a cult.”
“It’s not a cult.” Gaz laughs. “We are mostly military personnel and their relatives, trying to survive.” 
“I would say you’re doing more than surviving. I mean, what even brought you here? And don’t say you’re just looking for food. I’m no idiot.” 
“Never thought you were, lass.” Soap looks at his Captain for approval to share information about their mission. It’s not like anything was classified anymore, but habits stick. “We have some scientists that still believe they can find a cure - we came here to see if we could find anything useful.” At that, he points at Gaz, who is still sitting by the computer, now trying to load whatever he had managed to uncover into a pen drive. 
Simon notices how she visibly tenses under the word cure. His eyes are trained to see people’s reactions to information. That usually tells more about them than their own words. “I really appreciate the offer, but I am fine on my own. I will figure things out.” Y/N gets up and starts to walk towards the door, the abrupt change of humor taking them by surprise. “I always have. Good luck on your mission though, I hope your scientists are right.”  
Soap takes after her, but Simon stops him. “Let it go, Johnny. We have a mission to finish.” The Sergent nods in agreement and moves to search through a pile of old papers with a defeated look. Soon she is out of sight, but they can still hear her shuffling in a hurry downstairs. If she didn't want shelter there was nothing they could do about it. It pained Soap to watch the girl leave, but he understood a thing or two about having a hard time trusting people; he just wished there was something he could do about it.  
As they continued looking through the room, gathering the few bits of information they thought were slightly useful, Simon found himself looking through the window. That is when he caught a glimpse of Y/N, getting into an old red car she uncovered from some tarp. He was not only surprised that the junk still worked, as it looked pretty wrecked, but that she had been prepared for an emergency. He could tell the car was stuffed full of materials, blankets, and all sorts of crap that might come in handy. He lets out an amused chuckle but quickly covers it up with a cough before anyone can notice. He could tell she was resourceful from the beginning but was just now finding out to what extent.  
A few documents and a pen drive later, they decide to call the mission a success and head back to the Humvee. “You think she is gonna make it, Cap?” Gaz asks with a hint of sadness in his voice. Surviving that long hadn’t been easy, not even for them. They might have been trained to shoot moving targets, but nothing can prepare you for the blanket of dullness that covers the atmosphere during an apocalypse. No matter how long a soldier is deployed, they still have a place to come back to, a reason to fight for. But fighting and surviving are completely different things, and when life becomes empty of any motivation to keep going, you find that a rifle is lighter to carry than a heavy heart. Simon was all too familiar with that concept: It was embedded in his brain since revenge tasted like sugar and anger sounded like a song that lulled him to sleep. 
“There is no use thinking about that now, Sergent.” John says, turning on the ignition. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.” 
They were getting in the car when Gaz stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Aw shit! Forgot my cap in the house.”
“Make it quick, Sergent.”
“Will do, Captain!” He shouts from the distance as he makes his way into the house, knowing he probably won't honor his promise. He has no idea where he left the damn thing.
John chose to wait in the front seat with the ignition still on, smoking a cigar, while Ghost and Soap made idle conversation resting against the back of the Humvee. At times like this, it was hard to believe the world wasn’t normal. But then a zombie would come around and Johnny and Simon would do “rock, papers, scissors” to find out who would have to take care of it.
“Hey. LT, how many Germans does it take to screw in a light bulb?” Soap asks with a grin on his face, as he cleans his knife from the blood.
Simon pretends to think for a moment. They had been exchanging two-liners for as long as he could remember, and it was surprising they could still keep going after all this time. Once, he could swear he saw Johnny pick up a joke book from an old library that they had passed by during a mission. He never teased him about it, because he knew it would pay off during moments like this. “How many?”
“One. They are efficient and not very funny.”
“You’re not very funny.”
Before Soap could get offended, the sound of a single gunshot penetrates the air. “Hands up!” A coarse voice commands. Simon moves to grab his gun, but another shot follows dangerously close to his head. He and Soap slowly put their hands up in surrender, as they hear footsteps approaching from the front of the vehicle, effectively surrounding them. They hear Price step out of the truck, and soon he is right beside them, as they stand in a line, side to side. A small group of what looks like military men corners them. They don’t look like the unorganized militia groups that they usually come across, with improvised armor and guns they barely know how to hold. These people sport matching uniforms and seem to be well trained, carrying the weapons with a confidence that doesn’t go unnoticed. 
“Where are the girl and the baby?” The same man asks. He has a scar that runs across his left eye, clearly jeopardizing his vision. “You’re a long way from home, soldiers. So why don’t you help me and answer the question? Maybe you can still make it back to the base before sunrise.”
John tenses after hearing how well the guy seemed to know them. He hated being at disadvantage. “We haven’t seen any girls ‘round here.” 
“Now, don’t lie to me, John. I don’t like playing games.” He lets out a dry laugh. “I’ll ask you one more time: Where are they?” 
He couldn’t believe this was the Resistance. Last Simon heard from them, they were a bunch of rebels running around without purpose, creating fires so they could put them out. Yet, there they stood in front of him, the unmistakable Resistance logo plastered on the left side of their chest: A red capital R with a dagger running through it horizontally. Not only did they know their names and address, they were asking about the girl and the baby. The girl and the baby that had been with them less than an hour ago. 
They seemed familiar, and it irked Simon that he couldn’t exactly put a finger on why. 
The Resistance is still the one behind the cameras in the lab, he concluded, with enough control over their surveillance to notice a couple of abandoned cameras going online for seconds and quickly respond to the disturbance with a group of soldiers. Seconds that had been sufficient for them to recognize the girl and the baby. Whatever she had done to piss them off, Simon could guarantee it was more than stealing something. 
In response to the silence, the man puts his finger on the trigger of his gun but doesn’t raise it. Simon registers the name on his uniform: AJ Miller. When his arm lifts, a blast fills the air, in both sound and density, as a layer of smoke quickly covers the scene. 
Gaz had thrown a smoke grenade. 
Simon breathes in the smoke, and counterintuitive as it may seem, the vapor that fills his lungs brings clarity to his mind. He pulls out his gun, and the metallic smell of blood overpowers the aroma of moss that seems to always linger in the air these days. Gunshots wizz past him in every direction, each one missing him by either luck or his movements; it was hard to tell the difference. The smoke dies down and Simon counts: One, two three. No casualties. 
That matter, it is. 
Bodies lay on the ground in front of them, blood covering the old pavement, seeping through the cracks, and meeting the soil from where wildflowers grow. Empty shell casings reflect the sunlight with an even more golden hue and in a twisted way, remind Ghost of a starry night. Like most, the battle ended as suddenly as it started. 
“Everyone alright?” The Captain asks, looking around the group. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost nod in agreement. “Good work, Gaz.”
“Steaming Jesus. What in the bloody hell was that?” Soap asks. 
“The Resistance must have a new boss. Looks like someone has finally succeeded in weaponizing citizens.” John shakes his head, as if trying to find a logical explanation to what they just saw. “Last we heard of them, they were idiots chasing their own tail with a gun. Now they are a fucking army.” Silence never meant good things during war; they should have known better than to let the enemy grow undisturbed for so long. “Back in the truck, boys. Seems like Laswell will finally get the intel she has been waiting for.” 
They were about to turn into the road when they heard shooting in the distance. Gaz is in the passenger seat this time, and he gives the Captain a pleading look. “They are going to die out there, Captain. We need to help them.” They don’t need to see the shooting to know what happened: the Resistance had found the girl and the baby. They had also been smart enough to divide the search into smaller groups of people so they could cover more area at the same time.
“The Resistance wants them, Gaz. She did something to piss them off and I don’t want to get us in the middle of the crossfire. They already know enough about us as it is.” 
“She knows the Resistance better than us, Price. Maybe she can help us get the upper hand on those bastards.” Soap chimes in, taking Kyle’s side on the discussion. 
“We don’t need the upper hand on them. We are not fighting against them. Besides, I doubt she would have anything useful to add.” Ghost argues, and neither Gaz nor Soap seem surprised that he is taking the Captain’s side. 
“We are going to fight them, eventually. I mean, we have to, right?” Kyle asks. “They know too much about us to take a neutral stance against our group. They are becoming too powerful.” There was a pause and you could almost smell the hope that hung on Gaz’s words.
“They are right. Simon.” John finally gives in, as he takes a turn that puts them in the same direction the gunshots are coming from. “She might not be able to give us any useful intel, but the Resistance wants her, and until we figure out why, securing her will give us an advantage against them”. He steps on the accelerator. “Let’s just hope she didn’t get too far.”
As the commotion gets louder and their plan is laid out, Gaz positions himself out of the window, gun in hand. Soap takes the same position on the door on the back, and Simon prepares to jump out of the truck as soon as it stops. He hears a loud crash and looks out the window just in time to see the old red car get T-boned by a much newer black car. The red car drives off the road and hits a tree, and Simon wonders if the thing was built out of titanium as he watches it survive without immediately combusting into flames.
The Sergents start to shoot at the Resistance, giving Simon cover as he rushes out of the truck and in the direction of the crash. The sound of loud crying fills the air again, making his skin crawl, and soon enough he opens the door on the driver’s side. Thankfully, they had been hit on the passenger side, and the baby had been behind the driver’s seat. 
“Take Cami. Please, you have to save her. You can’t let the Resistance take her.” Cami. That must be the baby’s name. He realized no one ever asked, and Y/N didn’t tell them either. Or maybe it’s Camille. Or Camila. He had never met a Camila before. Maybe it was Chamomile - he had heard of people naming their babies after flowers. 
“You’re coming with me.” He reaches across her and undoes her seatbelt. As much as he was against the idea of taking them back to the base, he was a man following orders now.
“No. My leg is hurt, I’m going to slow you down. You need to take her and run somewhere safe. There’s no time.” She looks at him with pleading eyes. Eyes that seemed to have made peace with dying. They didn’t belong in a young face like hers. And as she stared into his eyes, she seemed to search for someone that wasn’t Ghost. Someone that would take her baby to safety, and watch it grow into a healthy young woman that she would never get to meet. 
“I’ll carry you.” You’re not going to die here, he has the urge to tell her. But he doesn’t, because that is what Simon would have done, and Ghost knows that every second in a clock becomes an hour during war. And every second spent talking, is a second that is wasted. 
“You can’t carry us both at the same time, you need to go-”
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. Arms up, now.” And before she can protest more, he is throwing her on his shoulders, almost as if she is weightless. Pain shoots across her leg, but all she can think about is Cami. 
Is Cami hurt? Probably, she could hear her crying.
Is Cami dead? No, she could hear her crying.
Is she dead? She wanted to be. Her baby was crying, and there was nothing she could do to help her pain go away. 
With his free arm, Ghost opens the back door. Y/N moves on his shoulders, yelling something about Cami that he can’t quite understand because he is not paying attention. But then her voice switches to a much sweeter tone when she says “Everything is going to be okay, my love, don’t cry” over and over again, and suddenly, that is the only sound he can hear. 
He knows he should have gone for the baby first. Children should always be the first to be rescued. But for the first time, Simon was in the field and he was scared. The last time he had a baby in his arms, his brother was still alive. He remembers the silence when he walked into his house years ago, his whole family dead at his feet. He remembers Tommy’s pale and lifeless face, and he remembered it twice because he saw it again when he looked at Tommy’s dead son’s pale and lifeless face. 
He opens his eyes and hopes he doesn’t remember it a third time: but she is red, and it’s not blood, it’s just the effect of her face scrunching up and the breath coming out of her lungs. She is a baby, crying in the car seat, and she doesn’t look like Tommy. She is alive, her hands reaching for Simon, because she is too young to see Ghost. 
He is running back to the Humvee, carrying a woman on his shoulder and a child in his arms. Her voice still echoes in his head: "Everything is going to be okay, my love". 
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maomaop · 5 months
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Finished KnH vol10 !
This was definitely one of my favs?? It felt so long and complete, I loved the pacing and how it was structured.
Characters like Rikuson, Basen, Lihaku, Chue, Tianyu and Lahan’s brother (god knows if we will ever discover his name.. what a shame!) getting more spotlight was really amazing I really enjoyed seeing their dynamic together, I hope we will get even more of it in the future!!
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Basen
Basen getting his character development arc thanks to ducks was unexpected but definitely NEEDED! His bond with ducks and mostly Jofu was hilarious and really unserious but it fits him so much😭
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The little meetings between Lishu and Basen were adorable, I love the route the author is taking for their relationship. They desperately want to be around eachother it really couldn’t be more obvious!! Thats how soulmates are, however they both decided to continue going their separate ways for now in order to become the better version of themselves. They need to grow up, mature, and gain experience and work on themselves for their distinctive reasons. Hopefully by then Lishu will be over the age of 18 and things will work out between them.
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I still have to talk about our stubborn man Basen, I appreciated reading the insights of his mind, getting to know more about how he sees some things from his perspective along with his takes on them. He thinks he has nothing really valuable about him outside of his brute strength but he’s much more than just a strong soldier to me. Regardless of his stubbornness he’s a very loyal and determined man, he stays true to himself while still getting the job done neatly and proudly because he has full trust in his superior.
Moving on to MISS CHUE!
I had to make this extravagant for her
Where do I start..? She’s SO likeable, there’s so much things to love about her
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As Maomao said she’s VERY characterful, and I must say its true that she doesn’t look like a married woman with child in the slightest!! She’s very unique and silly, her presence during this volume made things so much more enjoyable to me. She stands on business while keeping her silly side (except when her mother in law glare at her…) She’s smart, quick witted and have a wonderful personality? ALL IN ONE nobody does it like her
She’s just in her own world, and I absolutely LOVED how she handled things with Maomao from the beginning to the end. Their dynamic was to die for, I remember Maomao being weirded out by her in vol9 but I knew she’d get along just very well with her she just needed to give it some time, I CALLED IT!
Chue being married to Baryou is absolutely insane to me, I mean just finding out Baryou was a married man was shocking but imagine my reaction when I found out Chue of all people was his wife? They are polar opposites and this is why Im in desperate need to know more about their relationship… Chue keep talking about hanky panky with him and I just can’t picture that at all..? Maybe Baryou do have that dawg in him after all regardless of his social anxiety heh
In conclusion Chue is hilarious and easily one of my fav characters of this volume, thank you miss chue for making this volume an unforgettable and unique reading experience for me!
Now its PLOT TIME
This volume was really an exceptional one, its just the beginning of the western capital saga but the result of the set up that has been happening for the last two volumes is perfect.
I’m a sucker for the lore of the windreaders and the whole thing revolving around politics: The empress regnant, the Yi clan and their connection to the windreaders along with them committing subterfuge with Shaoh. The ritual to prevent plagues involves domesticated birds, Shaoh being involved in this whole thing just couldn’t prevent me from linking it to the white lady. I talked about it here in details, this is all very suspicious but EXCITING!!! Gyoku-ou is clearly the one pulling the strings behind this chaos and scheming things in the absence of his father. I talked about it already here while reading the volume and the latest chapters just justified my doubts.
Chapter 8 was one of my favorites, Nianzhen’s story was very dark and sad, it lead us into thinking him and his tribe annihilated the whole windreaders tribe but it turned out to not be true after the CRAZY informations they gathered thanks to Kulumu in chapter 13 (which btw was also one of my fav chapters), everything and everyone seem to be somehow connected.
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Jinshi being used by the shameless Gyoku-ou, and Gyokuyou being toyed with… I’ll start reading part1 of vol11 but like Gyokuyou said in the epilogue her fight is just getting started so we’re in for s long ride !
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yukina-otome · 8 months
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Chevalier Romantic route rantings
Warning: This post contains spoilers about Chevalier Michel's route. More specifically his Romantic ending.
Sooooo, it is extremly rare for me to criticise Cheva's content. After all, as his absolute stan, i love everything this man does.
BUT i admit that I am not a fan of his romantic ending.
The reason is simple. But first of all a little summary of the events, for does who do not remember or for does who have not played the route but dont mind spoilers.
MC is with everyone at the battlefield. The campement where she is, is attacked and this is when the two ending branches.
In this I will only discuss the romantic one.
So, in the romantic ending, MC gets stabbed by a poisoned knife by the anti war faction and obsidian. They use her as a hostage and says 'if you want the antidote you gotta hand her off'. But Genius Cheva figures out the poison and have the antidote made badabim badaboum.
(Honestly I would have prefered it here if Clavis was the one who found the antidote, and Cheva being impressed by his brother's abilities, after all Clavis was the one who has been studying poisons. But this is not what this post is about so let's no dwell on that)
So MC is cured, Cheva goes to beat the anti war faction with his FIST, because MC says no Stabby stabby. And he somehow makes Obsidian sign a peace treaty and VOILA, war is over.
(Yes, the political plot of this game is extremely stupid, DO NOT start me on that, or this post will never end)
Soooo, MC and Cheva goes back to the castle, where MC is healing. Chevalier stays by her side most of the time as they spend quality time together. And before they know it, there only very few days left before MC has to choose a king, leave the castle and never see cheva again.
So MC asks Chevalier for one last favor, she wants him to dance with her. He accepts and they head to the ballroom where they have a very impactfull moment where MC tells him she is gonna choose HIM as a king and she tells him her reasons which leaves him speechless and i would say touched.
After that there dance ends, and MC start acting like Booboo the clown as she starts rambling, she tells cheva they should have a meal together sometimes before she leaves and turn away from him to hide her tears.
As of now, everything is fine. I have no objections to this developpement. But this is where it ticks me off.
Cheva hug MC from behind and literally ask her TO SLEEP WITH HIM!
Yes yes, he says dinner but he says he is famished and his hand touch mc's body subjectivly.
MC might be as dense as the mariana trench but she's not stupid and she agrees to the hanky panky.
And BIM BADABOUM they smash, in the trill of the action, mc asks him if he will remember her and he says NO which is obviously a lie. And that's literally it. They separate for a year and you guys know the rest.
Now you might ask, what do you not like about this, Yuki?
And i would say many things:
First, HOW DARE HE ASKS HER FOR HER FIRST TIME JUST LIKE THAT, MY CHEVA WOULD NEVER WTF. Remember everyone, this is not 21st century, it's literally around 1500 and around then a woman virginity was EVERYTHING to her. I was like well maybe the ikepri author created the ikepri universe differently and its not a big deal but silvio's romantic ending proved otherwise. I'm not gonna go into the details, i'll just say a woman first time is IMPORTANT. And Cheva most likely knew that. He would never ask her for it in such a way. Specially knowing he could not be her lover. It was one night only between them.
Also it is very irrational and the way cheva asked for it seemed calculated which i hate. I mean, there are no contraception during that era. Surely both knew what could happen after that night.
Then there is how that first time was written. It was only a few sentences and during the whole act MC was crying and all while Cheva was all smug saying 'You like that, don't you?'. I would have liked it if he showed some vulnerability in that moment. And don't tell me 'This is cheva we are talking about, he is not capable of doing that', he actually did in the dramatic ending.
This was supposed to be such an angsty dramatic scene, if only they gave it more attention it would have gave his route more dept and made the ending all the more satisfying.
THIS is how I think things should have happened:
-After the dance, MC still acts the same and says they should have a meal together.
-Chevalier agrees and says then let's have dinner together.
-MC accepts and they have dinner in his room. MC is nervous since this is her first time alone with him in her room since he knows of her feelings and it makes her hyperaware of him. Specially that whenever she look up at him she sees he is already staring at her. Like he wants to commit her to his memory.
-Cheva sees that and starts talking about a new book to calm her down.It works and soon enough they are sitting together on his bed and reading the book together in silence.
-Chevalier's reading speed is higher than hers and whenever he is done he just stares at her as he waits for her to finish the page.
-MC finish a page and look up toward Chevalier to see if he's done with it, but when she does he is already looking at her and there eyes meet.
-They stare at each others soul for a very long time in silence before they kiss, none of them knowing who made the first move.
-The kiss soon turn into a full makeout session on Chevalier's bed and the book fall to the floor in a tud.
-This bring Chevalier to his senses, it is not like him to act so irrationnaly.
-He pulls away from MC, but she pulls him back and that was all he needed for his logical facade to snap.
-They make love and as MC cry her heart out she sees that Cheva's usual ice cold expression is nowhere to be seen.
-His walls are completely gone and at that moment she has the REAL Chevalier in front of her.
She says she loves him but he does not answer her back. He knows that if he says it, it's gonna make even more difficult for her, so he just hugs her to him instead.
And that's how it ends.
What do you guys think? I'm really interested in you guys's opinion on this topic.
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shangrila11 · 7 months
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Aftermath // Toma Vrbada/ Smoke (Mortal Kombat 1) x Dragon! listener
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Spoiler warning! Mild spoilers for Tomas' ending!
"Enjoy the rest of your evening."
After thanking the four Earthrealm champions, you and Liu Kang left Madam Bo's teahouse, smiling at each other. Behind you, the champions batering about who would be paying the bill could be heard.
"It seems like Earthrealm is in capable hands," you remarked.
"Indeed, my friend," the fire god agreed. "Come, let's go lend Kuai Liang and Tomas our aid."
"Of course," you nodded. A fond smile made its way to your lips as you thought about Smoke. Among the brothers, you were the closest to him. He was friendly, kind and had a strong sense of justice.
"Your soft spot for Tomas is showing, (Y/N)," Liu Kang commented, a hint of mirth in his voice and eyes.
"Pardon me. I can't help it. As Johnny aptly put it, he's got the wholesome sidekick thing down cold, " you replied, doing your best impression of the movie star. But your expression soon became concerned. "Speaking of Tomas, I'm worried that he will not be welcoming towards you since, well..." Liu Kang quirked an eyebrow in amusement at your impression before gently patting your shoulder.
"There's no need to worry, (Y/N). I will try to speak to him later," he assured you. You nodded, deciding to trust his words. Together, the two of you headed to the portal en route to the location of the Shirai Ryu.
The two of you were welcomed by Kuai Liang, Harumi and Tomas when you stepped out of the portal. However, as expected, while still polite, Smoke's expression hardened a little as he greeted Liu Kang. You cast the fire god a concerned look but remembering his words, you turned your attention to the Shirai Ryu's grandmaster and his partner.
"Congratulations on your marriage, Kuai Liang and Harumi," you smiled warmly. The two of them were meant for each other and you couldn't be happier for your friend. Liu Kang, too, congratulated the two of them.
"Thank you, Lord Liu Kang, (Y/N)," Kuai Liang and Harumi smiled.
"So how is the new clan coming along?" you asked. The three clan members' face fell.
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to find any suitable initiates," Harumi sighed.
"A lot of people are uncertain about joining our clan since we're new. Besides, the skills and attitudes of some of them could use some work," Kuai Liang added.
"We have nothing against people without much skill but with the Lin Kuei being formidable, we need people who are skilled or learn fast," Tomas explained.
"Not to worry, Tomas. Now that we're here, we can help the Shirai Ryu find more members," you offered him an encouraging smile, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Smoke sent you a grateful look.
"(Y/N)'s right. Where have you search for initiates already?" Liu Kang asked. Scorpion answered his question, with Harumi and Smoke adding any other locations he had missed. Liu Kang nodded, thanking the three of them for the information.
"I suggest we split up and look in areas that haven't been covered," he proposed. Everyone voiced their agreement. After discussing where each of you would go, Kuai Liang and his wife left, leaving you, Liu Kang and Smoke. Earthrealm's protector turned towards the young ninja. "Tomas, may I have a word with you in private?" Said male frowned but nodded. You watched as the two of them walked to a quieter place. Silently hoping for the best, you departed as well.
Unfortunately, your search didn't bore fruit. Scorpion and Harumi didn't fare any better. After asking the Shirai Ryu's grandmaster if you could use one of the clan's rooms and obtaining his approval, you headed to the room to meditate. You closed your eyes and took slow, deep breaths, placing all your attention on your breathing.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
"Hey, (Y/N). Brother told me you went to meditate and so I came to find you here. Sorry for interuptting," Tomas greeted as he entered the room. Because of his talk with Liu Kang, he had finished his search later and had only just returned.
"There is no need to apologise. You know I always welcome your presence," you smiled warmly.
"Right," the young man laughed, pink dusting his cheeks. You asked how did his seach go, to which he responded with a shake of his head, saying that he, too, didn't have much luck.
"It's alright. I'm sure we'll find suitable canditates," you comforted him. You hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking, "What about your talk with Liu Kang?"
"It was ok. Lord Liu Kang tried to explain his actions but I'm still not sure if I can forgive him," Smoke replied, clenching his fists. "All this time, I have viewed him as a close ally and friend. But then I learnt that he used to be the Time Keeper, making him the one who made me an orphan. I just... feel so betrayed."
"I understand," you patted his shoulder. "I care a great deal about the both of you so I sincerely hope you and Liu Kang can work this out."
"Alright. I... I will try," the young ninja promised. A smile lit up your features.
"Good," you nodded. "What say we have a spar?"
"Sounds good. After all that has happened, I could really blow off some steam," the Czech man agreed eagerly. "Besides, it would be an honour to fight a legendary being such as yourself."
"Flattery won't make me go any easier on you, Tomas," you teased, your eyes twinkling.
"I know," he grinned. The two of you assumed a fighting stance before Tomas made the first move. He unleashed a kick at you but you quickly moved back. You launched a jet of water at him, knocking him back. You took this opportunity to throw a few water-coated punches at him. You were about to punch him again when Tomas disappeared in a puff of smoke. You created rings of water around your body, anticipating his next move. The male reappeared, preparing to strike with his kunai. You reflexively reshaped your water rings into a shield. You were pushed back as Smoke became more aggressive with his strikes. You morphed your water shield into a jet of water again, pushing him back. You performed a sweeping kick, causing Tomas to fall down.
"Do you yield?" you grinned truiphantly, panting.
"Yes," he huffed. You extended a hand to him and he grabbed it without missing a beat. You carefully lifted him up.
"That was a fruitful spar," you commented. "Your skills have certainly improved."
"Thank you," Smoke replied, flushing. You smiled. However, your expression soon concerned when you noticed some bruises on his body.
"Apologies. Did I hurt you too badly?" you asked. Tomas assured you that it was alright. After all, one tended to get injured from sparring.
"Here. Allow me to heal you," you offered. Tomas thanked you to which you replied with a smile, saying that it was your pleasure. You gently placed a hand on his injuries and worked your magic. The young ninja stared at you.
"What is it?" you asked.
"Oh, nothing much. I just... think that your horns are pretty. Can touch your them?" he replied, embarassment evident on his features.
"Sure, once I'm done healing you," you smiled.
After healing the last of Smoke's injuries, the two of you found a place to sit down. Tomas cautiously touched your horns, making you shiver.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"Fret not. You did not do anything wrong. It feels nice, actually," you assured him. The young man nodded and continued, this time more confidently. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes in contentment. The two of you stayed like that for a while until you backed away.
"I have to get going. Liu Kang and I have other things to attend to," you said.
"Alright. See you around. I -- I mean we -- will always welcome you," he replied. A smile adorned your features.
"See you."
(Picture does not belong to me. Taken from windowscentral website)
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Part 2 of interesting Mechat routes [Part 1] there'll be vague spoilers but nothing major
13. "Oh my god, they were roommates" + "there's only one bed" trope except they fucking hate each other
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14. "Just inherited a large manor from a distant English uncle who died under mysterious circumstances" MC Vs. "Butler, willing to do anything to protect the manor, and trying his best to mask how much he loathes his new employer under a thin veneer of politeness" LI
So many instances where you can't tell if they are gonna fuck or tear each other's throats out
Also there's this moment after MC bitch slaps him, that's like
MC: .....wait am i a sadist? Shitfuckshit I shouldn't have hit him
MC: I'm so sor-
MC:
MC:
MC: Is he a masochist?!!!
Edit: ohh this just spiralled straight into porn with a side of possible murder mystery
that being said MC has a strong "I may not like him or even trust him but only I can be a dick to him" instinct
Edit: I'm screaming they're so funny
MC: I'm going to act mean and domineering and borderline cruel because it's clear he doesn't want me here and it's clear he's hiding something about my uncle's death and this is the only way to push him into revealing secrets
LI: I'm going to throw my kink for being subservient to the point of insanity and keen for punishment in their face at any opportunity so that it'll scare them away and they don't get a chance to ruin this manor
MC&LI: oh no they're into this
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Edit: both of these characters are insane. And no I'm not talking about the 24/7 BDSM part I mean they're genuinely unhinged. What do you mean his response to feeling jealousy is to lock the both of you in a tomb that'll seal shut in 30minutes after which you'll eventually die of dehydration within days and your response to that is to fuck about it instead of oh I don't know FORCING HIM TO OPEN IT AND GETTING THE FUCK OUT ASAP!!!????
15. Two doms trying to out dom each other. 24/7 grind-hustle culture stock market invester he/they dom LI Vs. MC who said bet.
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16. Retired (?) God of Dreams running a magic coffee shop (the profile pic of one of the versions of this story looks lowkey like goth Julian Devorak (and he only looks like this here btw) and with 0 thought behind it I named my MC "Nel" for this route and then took a whole half an hour to remember my MC for Julian's route is named "Len" so magic? lucky coincidence?)
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17. Adrenaline Junkie LI (the story doesn't really interest me but his Cruella de Vil looking ass is pretty enough to drag me along)
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18. Giant muscular marshmellow soft shy excitable nonbinary butch
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19. College group project -> poly relationship. The dynamic & chemistry between the three of them is so good .
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also why do all of them have issues😭💀
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20. Wildcard fantasy storybook pirate come to life x geography nerd MC who is the best combination of fiesty, anxious & shy/flustered getting kidnapped & cursed to be their navigator to the Bermuda triangle
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seaweedroll · 2 years
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Her dearest friend.
Silver hair, velvety voice, killed more people than one can count? Sounds like my type <3 Y/N Stark is the daughter of the youngest Stark lord who is the renowned negotiator and diplomat that travelled through Essos with young Y/N. Now that he's been invited to consult the King, Y/N is reunited with her childhood friends Aegon and Aemond who are not the same sweet boys she used to know. Will it be too late before she realises that? Part 1/4.
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‘Now remember; in Kings Landing nobody is your friend. They all want something from you; they are going to use your every move against you so make sure you’re five moves ahead of them’ a tall man with a deep voice spoke to a girl sitting across from him in a carriage. ‘Be very careful when I am not around’ he continued ‘You will be left alone a lot while I attend small council meetings.
‘I’m sure Heleana and Aemond will take care of me like they always had’ the young lady couldn’t hide her smile whilst talking about her childhood friends.
‘The Targaryens are not your friends’ he replied curtly. ‘Aegon and Aemond are not the same boys you used to play with. They are young men now and young men are very dangerous to a lady such as yourself’ her father leaned in and took her hand ‘You must never ever stay alone with Aegon. He has turned into a beast’ lord Stark couldn’t hide the worry in his voice.
‘So he has’ she mumbled quietly.
She already knew that Aegon had bedded almost every maid in the Red Keep. She knew that Heleana loved cross stitching and spoke in complicated riddles. She knew what weather was like last summer; how could she not when Aemond sent her countless letters over the years they’ve been apart.
Lady Y/N Stark and Aemond Targaryen were close childhood friends. She never mocked him for not having a dragon or being weaker than his brother. But last time they saw each other was a week before he had lost his eye. Will he still be the same kind-hearted boy that put flowers in her y/h/c hair? Or was he a monster hiding behind the beautiful words in his letters?
Either way, she had nothing to worry. A daughter of well renowned negotiator, whose silver tongue saved the kingdom from numerous wars and ensured a stable trade route with Pentos, she was protected.
‘They will ask for something big’ her father exhaled once they approached the castle. ‘We are being welcomed like the royalty they definitely want something big from me’ he rolled his eyes getting out of the carriage ‘Remember what I told you, Y/N’ he whispered and extended his hand to her.
‘Yes, father’ she nodded and took his hand, trying very hard not to jump out of the carriage.
‘Lord Ayden Stark and his daughter, lady Y/N Stark’ their arrival was announced. Queen Alicent stood on the stairs, a polite smile on her beautiful face. Behind her stood her children whom Y/N barely recognised. Moments later, Heleana launched herself at Y/N and wrapped her in a warm embrace – she had always been a kind, affectionate girl and that hasn’t changed. Aegon followed close behind and planted a kiss on her hand. Only Aemond stood beside his mother, stoic, cold, proper. It hurt Y/N but she didn’t let it show. But when they all turned to go to the castle, she felt a faint brush of a callous hand against hers, almost ghost like but enough to let her know that he sees her, he missed her.
That night they had a feast. Ayden entertained everyone with stories and riddles; they laughed, they guessed and missed, flooded him with questions about exotic lands. His daughter added to his stories, demonstrating the gift for words she inherited from him. Prince Aegon asked most of the questions, begged for one more story and she obliged, her heart warm from memories she made with the boy he once was.
Aemond sat silent at the table, barely touching his food, his eye never leaving her. He was mesmerised by her warm, open nature and laugh that rung like silver bells in the wind. She had changed so much: her hair no longer wild but braided neatly; her curves filled in the gown made from finest material. Yet she still had the same smile, same innocence about her paired with quick wit and sparks of mischief in her y/e/c eyes. She was a true vision, a dream come true.
A few hours into the evening, lady Y/N retired for the night. Kissing her father goodnight, she disappeared into the dark hallway, unaware that a silver dragon had followed her. Ayden Stark gripped his glass tighter as an uneasy feeling washed over him.
‘I know you’re behind me, Aemond’ Y/N smiled without turning to look at him. A man behind her couldn’t help but smile too, taking a few steps to close the distance between them. For a moment he hesitated to touch her, fearing that this was all a dream but before he knew, she spun on her heel and jumped into his embrace, laughing. He wrapped his arms around her, drinking in her scent. This must be a dream, he thought.
‘You’re so tall’ she pulled away slightly. ‘And so handsome’ the lady stroked his silver hair. ‘How many hearts have you broken already?’ she raised her eyebrow.
The prince was stunned. Did she not see his eye patch or a horrid scar on his face?
‘I’m afraid the ladies are not very fond of my face, my lady’ he bowed his head.
‘Well, I am’ she pecked him on the cheek, making him blush. ‘I cannot believe I’m finally here with you!’ she jumped onto him again. This time he lifted her up bridal style and spun her like he used to do when they were children. ‘Again’ she laughed, and he obliged, making them both dizzy.
He sat her down on the windowsill overlooking the gardens, sweet scent pouring in from the outside.
‘This reminds me of Pentos’ she looked at the gardens illuminated by the full moon. ‘Every full moon we would go and play in the gardens with my father and our servants and then sit by the bonfire and drink peach nectar’ she reminisced, her eyes sparkling.
‘You were allowed outside during the night?’ he raised his eyebrow.
‘I was! I had many freedoms back there. My father is the fourth son, so he has no claim to the North which means I don’t have to be paraded and sold off like a cow to some old ugly lord’ she laughed and jumped off the windowsill.
‘Your father is one of the most influential men in Westeros’ Aemond frowned at her carelessness as he followed her to her chambers ‘Any house would want him on their side. You’ll have a line of suitors by the end of this week’ he warned as they stopped in front of her doors.
‘Well then, I hope all of them are as handsome as you! And if not, I’ll let them know that my best friend is the finest swordsman, and he will slay them all if they are ugly or forget to bring cake!’ she giggled once again. ‘Good night, Aemond!’ once again she reached to kiss his cheek. ‘I’m so glad I am reunited with my dearest friend’ with those words she disappeared behind the door.
Her dearest friend.
That’s all he was to her whilst she was everything to him. Aemond loved her since he was a child, love nurtured by letters and hope she would return one day and now that she has, more beautiful than he could ever imagine, he would stop at nothing to become more than her friend.
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