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phillipcole · 4 months

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Post-AGT Appearance 1285: The Late Show with Stephen Colbert January 10

I would later proceed to the Late Show for the interview I would have been dreading for almost 2 years. I would be the first guest, after the first commercial break.

Colbert: Welcome back. Our first guest tonight is an interview that was postponed due to my little stomach disorder. It's a very timely interview and let me tell you the opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the host or management.

(He would mouth the words "but we agree." Many would think he was mouthing something else.)

Colbert: So welcome Phillip and Cole's Variety Team.

(They would play the chorus of Canadian Wildfires as I walked out, as previously posted.)

Colbert: Well Phil, first of all I know you have some sad news.

PBC: Yes, my wife's maternal uncle, a beloved, wonderful man died of heart failure Sunday night.

Colbert: Was there anything unusual about his death?

PBC: Yes there was. Back in October he spent a long time isolated, fasting and praying for the sinful world. When he tried to resume normal activity he was too weak. His immune system was compromised. He got covid. Just as he was doing better he had a stroke. Then they diagnosed him with dementia. We prepared for a long ordeal with that but last weekend he went back to the hospital. That's in Trinidad, not here. He passed Sunday night.

Colbert: So sorry for your loss; now there is good news too. You have a movie coming out Friday and we have a clip. Tell us about it.

PBC: Miley Cyrus plays a singer.

Colbert: ha ha ha good casting.

PBC: Planning this almost 10 years; so she isn't doing well on the charts. A few years earlier, when she was at her peak, she did a little acting, so she tries to get back into movies, but her only offer wasw porno.

(Loud reaction)

PBC: Thank you, I think. She specializes in tongue work and, in an effort to improve her skills she starts studying toads and meets the professor.

Colbert: Who plays the professor?

PBC: I do. So this clip is the pivotal moment in the movie, the first step on her way to becoming the Toad Woman of Tennessee.

Colbert: Let's play it.

(They show a much shorter portion at the end of the clip posted Wednesday.)

Colbert: So...what was she looking at?

PBC: I have a still photo right here...and...we'll be selling the doll that matches this starting Friday!

Colbert: Impressive; I can hardly wait. Now, you do have a very serious matter to talk to our guests and viewers.

PBC: Yes, the New Hampshire primary is 2 weeks from yesterday and...I said before on this show...if Trump wins my colleague Phillip will go into a coma and...never recover.

Colbert: Will you pull the plug someday?

PBC: No, you will. His fate will be in your hands.

Colbert: And if that sad day comes, will you then tell us the last name on Phillip's sick list?

PBC: Yes, also on a date of your choosing. So please, New Hampshire people, if there is any possible way, go to the polls, vote in the New Hampshire primary and vote against Trump. That will keep Phillip alive at least until the convention.

Colbert: What about other states?

PBC: No individual state other than New Hampshire will trigger a coma, but every living creature will be in grave danger if that man becomes President again.

(long, loud response)

Colbert: Now the former President is facing 3 criminal procedures. Can you comment on them?

PBC: For that I give you my colleague Ford, a former judge in Tennessee.

(I rise up, turn around, put on a small gray wig and dark glasses and sit in the other seat.)

Ford: My name is Ford. I am a former criminal judge from Tennessee.

Colbert: Funny, you look like someone else. So the first charge against the former President is in New York. It involves lying to get a better loan deal.

Ford: He should have been tried for that about 30 years ago. There is no doubt he is guilty. The penalty should be a large fine. He can afford it.

Colbert: The second charge is inciting an insurrection January 6, 2021.

Ford: There are a lot of aggravating and mitigating factors. Perhaps disturbing the peace is a proper charge and almost certain to be a conviction.

Colbert: thank you. The third charge is having classified documents in his garage in Florida.

Ford: He has already told the public in no uncertain terms that he is guilty. The proper charge is treason and the proper penalty is death.

(Massive reaction, the camera panning the crowd)

Colbert: (close up) Phil, do you agree with your colleague Ford?

PBC: (back in the first chair minus wig and glasses) Yes. Think about it. When a man has a garage full of things and needs money for...legal bills for instance, he holds a...

Audience: Garage sale.

PBC: Classified documents, 2 dollars a page; might be the nuclear codes, might be the combination to the restroom, might be a meatloaf recipe.

Colbert: Touche.

PBC: He isn't the only one who should be tried for treason.

Colbert: Now, every time you join us you eliminate a suspect of who might be the last name on Phillip's sick list, one of the top 10. As we just discussed, this might be the last time you do that. Let's take a look at the top 10, latest update. Well at the top is Nancy Pelosi, then Lorne Michaels, Vladimir Putin, Hillary Clinton all the way down to Harvey Weinstein and Madonna. Which one will you be eliminating tonight?

PBC: Madonna.

Colbert: Wow! and he'll do it right after the break. Stay with us.

#stephen colbert #donald trump #madonna

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tessiete · 3 years

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If you still take prompts: Rumors of the Duchess of Mandalore (bc patriarchal bs and misogynistic beliefs about female leaders) potentially getting married reaches Coruscant and Obi-Wan copes as well as can be expected. Cue sad boi sadness with maybe fluff at the end? Or go full angst I’m ok with either

I AM! I am still taking prompts, and I know this took a while to get around to because I’m also sloooooow at filling them. But here we are, dear anon. I hope you enjoy this little snippet! <3

THE GRAVITATIONAL DEFLECTION OF LIGHT

There is some silly, selfish part of him that he never outgrew, and like a weed in his gut it twists and writhes when he hears that the Duchess Kryze is to marry.

And suddenly, he finds himself thinking of her more often, and more frequently during situations where his attention would best be put to use elsewhere. In council, he is forced to ask Master Windu to repeat a question he’d failed to hear, his mind being drawn by the gleam of light off the Senate dome on the horizon. During a sparring match, he takes a hit he’d never have missed except that Anakin threatens to deliver him a close shave at the end of his saber, and he’s struck dumb by the memory of her hand upon his cheek. There are peace lilies in a vase in the Archives, and pure beskar changes hands in a deal he’s meant to disrupt at a Separatist camp, but by far the most egregious lapse comes in the midst of relief efforts in a small village on Taskeed. He is caught, for a moment, by the sight of a woman with blonde hair and a young boy on her hip turning away from him. His focus slips. A blaze of light flashes more quickly than he can see, and by the time he hears the retort of a blaster rifle he is already on the ground.

The clones close ranks around him. Cody kneels, calling in a medevac even as Obi-Wan tries to rise.

“No, sir, stay down,” he says, laying one hand against his shoulder. Obi-Wan winces at the contact. His muscles strain at the effort, the nerves at the site of his injury ruptured and ragged.

“Cody,” he chokes out. “There’s a hostile.”

His second is a merciful man and makes no comment on the idiocy of that statement. Instead, he bites open a pain tab, and shoves it between Obi-Wan’s teeth. Then, so rapidly he has no time to protest, he removes his belt, and tears apart the fabric at Obi-Wan’s waist, sprinkling sulfa powder over the gory wound, and pressing a bacta patch down to cover it.

There is no more blaster fire to mark their passage back to the ship, but the wound is too serious to treat on board The Negotiator. He is sent back to Coruscant as a consequence of his foolishness.

There, he is dipped in bacta, where he doesn’t dream, and he spends the next week of his convalescence thinking of her.

It had never been this bad during their first separation. The months following her ascension to the duchy had been painful, that he cannot deny, and he spent hours in his room lonely, and self-pitying, but he had been a child then and he can forgive himself now of the folly of youthful indiscretions. There followed more than a decade between them and he had gone days, weeks - upon the outbreak of war even months - without thinking of her at all.

But with one touch of her hand, he’s fallen again, his resolve crumbling into dust as though his indifference to her were only a veneer grown thin and brittle with being stretched over so much time.

The Duchess of Mandalore is to marry.

Why should that matter to him? They are friends. Hardly that, and nothing more. And it was he who had defined those terms. So why should he be restless, and anxious, and fretted up like some craftsman’s handiwork at the thought of it? It is silly. It is demeaning - to her, and to him.

And yet...he wants to know.

Who is she to marry? And when? How did they meet? Is he a Mandalorian, like her? Or did she meet him here? Did they meet at the Senate while he walked in the Temple only a few klicks away? Have they much in common? Do his political aims match hers? Does he long for peace like she does? Will he stand by her side in upholding it? Would he die for it? Would he die for her? Does she love him?

She must, he thinks. She must love him. She would not choose him, otherwise.

And that, perhaps, is the cruelest thought of all.

He is confined to medbay with nothing to occupy his time but his holopad, his dispatch reports, and her when he sees a news story flash on his screen.

At Last! The Lily is Plucked

He cannot help himself as he reads about a chance meeting, a whirlwind romance, and plenty of private assignations held at various hotels and restaurants across Capital City. There are holos, too, and reels. He sees her leaving the Bal Silvestre on the arm of Corellian senator, Garm Bel Iblis.

Senator Bel Iblis is older than her, and seems a bit unkempt, his long hair pulled half back in a simple style. Obi-Wan knows of him by reputation, and heard him called a rake. His politics brand him a maverick, and a rogue, and he has been known, once or twice, to engage in backdoor negotiations in order to ensure a vote swings one way or another in his favour. Beside him, while he stands smug in his dark brocade, she shines. She is spotless. Luminous. They are not well matched.

He scours the net for more, and because he is looking, he finds it. There are many articles - hundreds. Some map out timelines of their courtship (they met years ago, apparently, at some gala held while Obi-Wan was still helping Anakin with Basic), some tell the history of their previous romantic entanglements (he was engaged to a woman now dead. She was once rumoured to be promised to a Vizsla. Obi-Wan’s name is not mentioned). Some merely provide pictures of their exploits, and comment on their mutual friends, making conjecture after conjecture about how their romance came to be, and what must happen next now that the flame has been rekindled. It is torturous. And tedious. And soon, Obi-Wan loses track of the details that appear in one article, and again in every other.

But one thing remains clear to him: Satine Kryze is going to be married. She has forever slipped his reach.

A reach, he pathetically reminds himself, he never intended to extend. All this self-flagellation is for naught. He is being ridiculous.

So he thumbs off his pad, turns out the lights, and tries to sleep with the image of Satine, smiling and resplendent flickering in his mind. The next morning, feeling no better for the little rest he managed to steal, he deletes the history of his pad, and determines to feel absolutely nothing at all about Satine Kryze.

Then Padme comes to the Council and requests a padawan be sent to Mandalore’s aid.

It is Ahsoka who goes. Of course it is. He takes small solace in the fact that it had not been he who suggested her, but since she was assigned, he feels well within his rights to enquire about the Duchess upon her return.

“She seemed fine,” Ahsoka tells him. He has invited her for tea following her report to the Council, hoping he might, in his hospitality, coax a few more personal details from his grand-padawan. “I mean, there was a moment where Almec - that’s the Prime Minister, or rather was - anyway, there was a moment where he had her in a shock collar, but like I said, the cadets and I managed to sort it out.”

“Right,” he concedes. “As you said.”

A moment passes between them. Obi-Wan sips his tea, struggling to swallow as the fist around his throat grows tighter and tighter. Ahsoka, blissful in the aftermath of a successful solo mission, grabs another biscuit and a strip of perami gammon.

“And tell me,” he ventures. “What of her - her consort? Any word of him? Where was he during this mess?”

“Her consort?”

“Her husband.”

Ahsoka scrunches her nose, and cocks a brow at Obi-Wan’s wild inquiry.

“She had a nephew,” she says. “But no one ever said anything about a consort.”

“Ah,” he says. “Perhaps he was occupied elsewhere.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, amicable and amenable to letting the whole thing slide. He only hopes she won’t think it significant enough to mention to Anakin later. His curiosity won’t be as easily sated with tea and deflection.

He is not a lucky man.

Anakin comes blazing into his room with an ambitious stride, and a grin that speaks of imminent mischief.

“Heard you were asking Ahsoka about the Duchess’ consort,” he says, throwing his cloak over the back of a chair and dropping to lounge across Obi-Wan’s low couch.

“I was asking about her mission,” he corrects. He turns his back to set some water to boil, knowing that such an entrance by his padawan indicates a visit of extended duration. “And the key players, therein. Purely professional.”

“Purely.” Anakin smirks.

The subject is dropped when Anakin is diverted by the service being laid before him, and the inclusion of several of his favourite confections.

“Noorian memba tarts!” he cries. “Where did you even find these?”

“An old recipe,” Obi-Wan says. “But I remember you enjoyed them when we dined on Belasco and thought I’d try my hand at it.”

It is not a bad effort either, judging by Anakin’s display of enthusiasm. He eats the first with some degree of etiquette, but the fourth, fifth, and sixth are gone with no display of decency or shame whatsoever.

Obi-Wan sips his tea. He is thinking of Tahl while Anakin is thinking of the sweetness on his tongue, and making excuses for his absence the previous night.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I was unavoidably delayed after the Senate recessed for the evening. I had to - to assist a delegate with a personal matter.”

Obi-Wan says nothing, but remembers how Qui-Gon, too, used to invent reasons to disappear unchecked. He invents nothing. He only cleaves to his duty, while time and fate conspire to keep him absent anyway.

Anakin must hear something in his silence, because his expression loses the tension of equivocation, and he falls to studying Obi-Wan’s face.

“I was only teasing, master,” he says. “Before. I didn’t think to ask Ahsoka anything about the Duchess. She spent most of her time with the nephew, but he seemed a bright kid. Close to Satine. I can ask her to ask him if he knows anything -”

“Absolutely not,” says Obi-Wan. The words are soft, but definite. He rises swiftly to clear the detritus of their meal. “Thank you, Anakin, but Duchess Kryze is only a friend. I merely inquired out of a desire to assure myself that the report issued to the Council lacked nothing in the thoroughness of its presentation. I should hate to think that such a personal association might be overlooked as an avenue for effecting harm.”

“Oh.”

“But I thank you in any case. Ahsoka’s report was well done, and you should be very proud of your padawan,” he says. “As I am of you.”

He turns to Anakin then, smiling and benign. His padawan meets his look with a vaguely skeptical one of his own, before patting him on the shoulder, and shrugging back into his cloak.

“Alright, master,” he says. “I’ll let her know how thorough she was.”

“Goodbye, Anakin.”

“Goodbye,” his friend replies. Then, just as he crosses the threshold of the door and moves into the open hall, he looks back. “Oh,” he says. “There’s a quick supply run being made to Mandalore for relief in light of Ahsoka’s investigation. Scheduled for tomorrow, but unfortunately, I’m needed back at the Senate. I meant to ask - you wouldn’t mind making the trip for me, would you? You don’t even need to get off the ship.”

---

There is nothing he can say to Anakin, so of course, as contrived and embarrassing as the whole thing is, he goes. And he does get off the ship.

Satine is there to meet him.

“Master Kenobi,” she says, extending her hand. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

He drops a brief, and reverential kiss then lets her go.

“Cleaning up after my padawan and his padawan, it seems,” he says. “Apparently, a master’s work is never over. Congratulations on your recent engagement, Duchess. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

The look which passes over Satine’s face is one he cannot decipher. He thinks she looks in equal parts shocked that he has heard, disgusted by his presumption in speaking of it, embarrassed by his boldness, and wearied by his presence. But she doesn’t deny it, so he makes his excuses to leave.

“Excuse me, Duchess,” he says. “But this was only meant to be a very brief visit, and I should prepare for departure.”

“Can you not stay for midmeal?” she asks, and he hesitates upon the precipice of her invitation. “Surely you don’t mean to tease me with a visit as brief as this? And surely your men would enjoy some rest and repast before you go?”

The troopers at his back shift, and he can feel their eagerness undulate in the Force. It would be cruel to deny them for the preservation of his own fragmented dignity, so he relents.

“Of course, your grace,” he says. “We would be most honoured.”

“Captain,” she says to the Protector at her right. “Have these men fed and watered immediately. The kitchens and my staff are at their disposal.”

He clicks his heels, and disappears, while she steps forward, and wraps her arm around Obi-Wan’s as though completely uncaring of any beau or consort or husband who might see.

“You, my dear master,” she murmurs slyly by his ear. “Are to be attended elsewhere, at my discretion.”

He does nothing to resist as she pulls him along.

Soon, they are at the Palace. Soon, they are sat at a small table in her private quarters, drinking Mandalorian kava, and eating freshly baked land’shun. Soon, they are alone.

She sets her drink aside, and dusts her hands on a fine silk napkin before broaching the subject trapped between them.

“Now, what is this about my nuptials?” she asks. Her blue eyes are steady upon his own, and he feels his palms slick with sweat. She is radiant. She is regal. There is no holo or reel or word that could do justice to the beauty of this woman in the flesh, and he feels that insidious root of jealousy writhe with agony.

“Satine -” he begins.

“No, no,” she protests, seeming to anticipate his deflection before he has begun. “I should like to hear why you think I ought to accept your congratulations, and why you felt you ought to offer them personally, in particular. Mandalore seems a rather dull trip for a High General to make.”

“I came in Anakin’s stead, actually,” he replies pertly. Another sip of kava lends some sophistication to this claim.

“Of course,” she says, but she does not look away. He can feel her gaze upon him. He can feel her glittering in the Force. She is laughing.

And he cannot bear it.

“Forgive me, your grace,” he says, rising to his feet. He sets the cup upon a saucer where it clatters inelegantly against the pot of sucre next to it, overturning the dish and sending the crystals spilling across the table. “Forgive me,” he says again.

She lunges forward to right the pot, and still his hand beneath her own. For a moment, he doesn’t breathe. Then, he pulls away.

“I read about it on the net,” he says. “I saw the holos, and the reels. I only wanted to see you one last time, to see...I wanted to see that you were happy. That’s all.”

“Oh, Ben,” she says, his name like a sigh upon the breeze.

“It is nothing,” he says. “A foolishness all my own. I am sorry if I have troubled you, and I offer you my sincerest congratulations.”

He bows, though when he raises his head, his eyes do not rise with it, so he does not see the look of sorrow upon her face. Still, he imagines it as pity, and moves to make his escape. She is faster than he is.

“No,” she says, standing between him and the door. “I will not accept your congratulations, and I will not accept your departure on such callous terms as these.”

“Duchess -”

“Ben,” she counters, leaning on the name. “I am not engaged. I am not married. And I do not intend to be, no matter how devoted to the idea of it you are.”

“I - devoted?” he asks, his voice rising to the height of his indignation. “I am devoted to no such thing. I have only - only been reconciled to it for weeks, thinking only of you and your happiness.”

“And your own misery, too, I’d wager.”

He chokes on his denial because he knows it is too big a lie to fit through his lips, and stares at her in dismay. She is smiling. Force, he thinks. She is incandescent. Like she has swallowed a star, and he can’t look away. He would that he could be consumed by her too, and finally, he gives in.

“Yes,” he says in an admission of guilt so great it brings relief. “I was miserable. I am, I think, an infinitely miserable person.”

“You are,” she agrees. “But I am not getting married, I am not engaged, and I am only as in love as I ever have been. And if you are foolish enough to forget that, then you are deserving of every misery you heap on yourself.”

“Have pity,” he begs.

“None,” she says.

“Have mercy,” he pleads.

“For you?” she says. “Always.”

They fall together like gravity and sunlight, and for a moment, whole galaxies bend to their will.

#my fic #prompt fill #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #obitine #garm's here #and anakin #and ahsoka #i mashed everyone in #star wars #fic #gffa

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juuls · 4 years

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Juulna’s ‘Hold Onto Your Sanity’ Fic, Book, and Music Recs for the 2020 Dumpster Fire... Part 3!

So you just crash-landed behind enemy lines in a war you know barely anything about except that your role seems infinitesimal and insignificant, and dumped into a year, 2020, that already seems fifteen years too long.

Before you drown your sorrows in some fantastic scotch or wine coolers for days (or weeks)… I have a proposal.

That you step back from the flames, tune things out for a bit, and try to forget about the outside world for a while (but don’t forget to vote or I will be very sad at you!).

These fics are meant to take you out of your head (I’m including more plot/story-minded fics than PWP) for the next few weeks or months as the world goes to hell (even more) but of course there are some bits of solid angst in these as there is wont to be in many a fic. Check the tags, read responsibly, don’t like-don’t read, ship and let ship, and please do leave a kudos and maybe even a comment! :)

This is PART THREE.

Check out here for Part One and most of the Marvel fic recs, along with a selection of book recs too. :)

And here’s Part Two, which has the bulk of my Star Wars and Game of Thrones recs, along with Spotify playlists!

Part Three is this one here, all about the Potterverse.

(Not yet complete) Here’s Part Four, filled with even more shippy goodness from all over the Star Trek universe. So. Many. Ships. :D

(Not yet complete) Part Five is Witcher, Man From UNCLE, Stargate: Atlantis and SG-1, Sherlock, Hannibal, and Doctor Who.

(Not yet complete) Part Six will probably be all for my newfound love of Supergirl, along with some Game of Thrones and Marvel ships I skipped, because I gotta stop somewhere with all these recommendations or I’ll be at it forever. Seriously, how much of this stuff have I read!?

But I think we all need some distractions from the world these days, eh? Or something to console us other than internet rage and a barrel of ice cream and/or hard alcohol.

Potterverse

I’ve chosen to pick fics (mostly) off of AO3 for their easy reading access, though HP fics’ golden years were on sites like fanfiction.net and other independent archives like Sycophanthex and others which have closed their doors over the years, sadly. Some of these fics date back to almost 20 years old, or more, amazingly!

For fics on fanfiction.net, I highly recommend using this link (FicSave) to epub/mobi converter rather than dealing with the frustrating app. It functions like AO3′s built-in download button.

SSHG/Sevmione

Rec assistance by @perrydowning

Second Life by Lariope

Phantom of Hogwarts by Good_Witch

Romancing the War by Pubella

The Poison Garden by turtle_wexler @turtlewexlerwrites

A Light in the Fog by turtle_wexler

Pride of Time by AnubisAnkh

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Snape’s Story by Tbird1965

Recognition by jezzie (krith)

Tedium of Time by oneredshoe

Tango by Desert_Sea

Sense and Insensibility by Desert_Sea

Time Mutable Immutable by Grooot

The Twenty by Leyna Rountree

For the Only Hope by ausland @run-with-me-to-the-sea

Bundle of Joy by LadyTuesday

Our Hands Tied by multilingualism

Choose Something Like A Star by TeddyRadiator

Mistress of the Stacks by Ms_Anthrop

A Derailed Train of Thought by Ms_Anthrop

Antiquities by stormcorona

Watch Over Me by @snapeslittleblackbuttons

Dropped Down into the Unknown by @q-drew

Delicate Transitions by @morbidmuch

Lay Me Low by TeddyRadiator

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Another Dream by @dragoon811

A Chance For Happiness by @corvusdraconis

Breath of the Nundu by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose

Just to Be by Amarti @amarti-writes-stuff

Hinge of Fate by Ramos

Forged in Flames by @mswhich

Days in the Sun by bluespring864

Making sure the boy who lived, actually does by Hold_en @hold-enwrites

The Problem With Purity by Phoenix.Writing

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis

The Headmaster’s Wife by Mrs_HH @propertyofseverustsnape

The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster, and the Deputy by mak5258

Cloak of Courage by Wendynat

Hermione Granger and the Intended Vessels by ShawnaCanon

Augury and Ardor by SnapeySnax

Before the Dawn by snarkyroxy

The Love You Take by Subversa

His Draught of Delicate Poison by Subversa

and sooooo many more if you want them just ask, this is both mine and Perry’s oldest ship lol

Gramander (Original Graves x Newt)

A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage by Anonymous

take a deep breath (and let it go) by lincesque @tumbloncat

Roar by @elenothar

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by @prosodiical

Dearly Beloved by prosodiical

Basic Instincts by @manic-intent

Promised by Miss_Lv

Plan G by Aate

Heat of the Chase by argentoswan @wannahearaboutmycats

Newt Scamander’s Guide to Getting Things Done by arthureameslove

Against all Odds by Maril

Where I Belong by Mishafied

He Wants To Say, “I Love You, Nothing Can Hurt You” by @obsidionwingsofmidnight

Arranged by Miss_Lv

death of a bachelor by gudetama (elementary)

The Graves Identity by Mishafied

you make me feel this way somehow by gudetama (elementary)

The Nature of the Beast by AntiGravitas @absolutelynogravitaswhatsoever

The Knights, the Newt, and the Rose by @yinyangswings

The Wizard’s Cat by @natecchi

The Color of Boom by gypsiangel

Signalling Theory: Blue Coat by @obaewankenope

Flame by @esamastation

And The Tag Read Simply: “Pretty” by @funkzpiel

Aren’t You Gonna Arrest Me, Officer? by JoyBurd

a little bit lost by shortbread @shortbread-fanfiction

Dramione

Rec assistance by @cuthian

Seven Times by kerri240879

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady

The Fallout by everythursday (orphaned and only available on AO3 now, but complete)

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen

Turncoat by elizaye @imnotleavinherewithoutyou

The Virgin Conundrum by AkashaTheKitty @akashathekitty

Bad Faith by Morrighan256

Isolation by bexchan @bex-chan-blog

The Serpent, the Witch, and the Broom Closet by bitchywitchy

Silencio by AkashaTheKitty

All You Want by senlinyu @senlinyu

Static by galfoy @heymanticore

What the Room Requires by Alydia Rackham

And We All Fall Down by @rumaan

Ambition’s End by Hanako A

Wait and Hope by mightbewriting @mightbewriting

Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95 (mayarox95)

Chronos Historia by In_Dreams @indreamsink

A Muggle-born Magic by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets

Hunted by Bex-chan

A Second Look by @riverwriter

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae

This Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi

Nocturnus by In_Dreams @indreamsink

Broken by @inadaze22

The Green Girl by Colubrina

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Rebuilding by Colubrina (really just anything written by @colubrina)

Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie

Can’t Change the Way I Am by @nauticalparamour

Law and Marriage by DragonGrin (formerly TeenTypist)

The Tower Window by @xodramaqueenox

Unexpected by Emara88

Something Old, Something New by Kate Dessi

Suppressed Emotions by hopelesslydevoted.xx

Silver Blood by @freyaishtar

When the Day Met the Night by @bex-la-get

Harmony

A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

A Step to the Right by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

Eighth by lorien829

The Catalyst by lorien829

Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists by lorien829

Knife’s Edge by Celtic55

The Black Book by mosteveryonesmad

Awakening by SweetShireen

The Sword and the Snake by bartonfink1974

Dispelling the Silence by Indygodusk

One Year Later: Return to Hogwarts by Twilight’s Inferno

DraHarmony

Fourteen Thousand Galleons by @frumpologist

The Invitation by hot_elf @hot-elf

Love Love Love by MissELY @misselylux

Changing Scenery by aethling

East of Eden by msmerlin @ms-merlinblack

Turn Back Time by Dazeventura6

Foxfire by @setissma

Come Together by @nuclearnik

The Soul of the Wolves by LR_Earl @fanficbylrearl

Running From Lions by tryslora @tryslora

An Unexpected Family by ladyroxanne21

The Prophecies by jamcreynolds

Drarhinny

Reconstruction by @aldersprig

Fell From the Sky by BrandonStrayne @brandonstrayne (I really love this one, and not just as a Canadian.)

Demons From the Past by pottermum

Drarry

Rec assistance by @newtypeshadow

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore

Lost Among and Falling by @bafflinghaze

The Corruption Sequence series by beren @berenwrites

Sentinel ‘verse series by elyssblair @elyssblair-blog

Date Blindness by dysonrules

Starts With a Spin by Maxine @serasarahhhh

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson

Paradigm by dysonrules

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Happen by ignatiustrout

Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Pieces of What by Jadwiga

Found, Not Lost by inspiration_assaulted

Shared Detention by DadIWriteGayPorn

Dirty Little Secret by Writcraft @writcraft

19 Years by shilo1364 @whimsicaldragonette

Morning Suns & Coffee Runs by laugh_a_latte @queer-coffee

Reus Una by purplepen76

Between Ink and Blood by Candamira

Ginmione

Distractions by @morningsound15

Cissamione

(This seems like it’s a bit cracky, but there’s some good ones, I promise! I sorta stumbled ass-backwards into this ship but really enjoy some of them.)

One Step Left by Cysteine @cysteine

Extinction by @rubikanon

Blinding Light by @16-pennies

Somebody Loved by beforeyouspeak

...

There. This is much better, isn’t it?

So my challenge to you, if your world is falling, burning down around you in flames... is this:

...if you feel yourself getting anxious or depressed, whether from the news or being cooped up in isolation or bored or on the verge of tearing your hair out or jumping off that roof or grabbing something to go after the dictator-of-the-week.... pause, take a breath, open up this rec list, close your eyes and pick something, and let chance take you somewhere hopefully far away. Let yourself be transported.

Oh, and don’t click on this Google Drive link. Really, there’s not 30+ GB of data on that Drive I’m sharing. Shame. There totally aren’t tens of thousands of books, as many audiobooks as could fit, and a large collection of fanfiction downloaded from AO3 in there. (Also, not all fics have been shared to that folder yet; I’m working on it a little at a time as I download more.)

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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

Text

The Bae’st of All

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Kyubae the bae’st bae of all aka Kyubei

Prompt: Seeing how Kyubei is named after an alias that the real Mitsuhide Akechi used (Juubei) the chances of fans getting a Kyubei route from Cybird are slim. However, it is simply impossible not to fall for this man. He is too good. So here have my attempt at writing a route.

The key of the previous chapter was (Romantic/Dramatic):

+4/+4

+2/+4

+4/+2

A/N: So, everyone except from one voted Dramatic so far. You guys have until 10.2 to vote which route comes out first. Gogogo!

Chapters:

1.1| 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 5.1 | 5.2 | 6.1 | 6.2 | 7.1 | 7.2 | 8.1 | 8.2 | 9.1

I woke up with Kyubei's haori still wrapped around me and the sun slowly warming up the cave as it brightened the world around me.

"Ye up yet?"

Motonari's snarl reminds me of where I'm and I jump up at the sound of his voice, suddenly alert as I face the pirate with the wicked smile.

"Boo. Get up already."

Ignoring the sarcasm I turn my sight around in search for the only familiar figure I have known as Motonari scoffs once more.

"He is gone, off to that treacherous master of his."

The way Motonari says this chills me as I wonder how he fits into the story. Whether he had anything to do with the sudden chaos in the Oda forces.

The chilling smile Motonari gives me confirms it all as he tilts his head at me.

"I see that ya have a brain."

Somehow I just know that it isn't a compliment. Not with the way he smiles and grins and I suppress all further questions as I slowly get up, wrapping Kyubei's haori around me.

"What are you planning to do with me?"

The faint scent of Kyubei still lingers on in the fabric of his coat. There is the smell of tea, the outside and incense, but there is something else as well as I feel the weight of an object in a hidden pocket sewn inside.

Motonari laughs at my question, tauntingly so as he kicks out the last remains of the fire we had, erasing all evidence that we had spent the night here. The man only tells me one thing, one single word that chills me to the bone:

"Chaos."

Stumbling through the woods I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Mitsuhide has allied himself with Motonari. From all the time I spent at the Akechi manor and the lessons Kyubei taught me about strategy it just didn't make much sense. And yet…

"No more spacing out. We have arrived."

Motonari's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as we stop in front of a temple, the familiar figure of the monk I had met the first night I arrived, appearing daunting and stolid.

"You're meant to bring me weapons, not a miss."

Kennyo's voice is flat as he addresses the man, earning him a cocky smirk from the other.

"Thought I should switch it up and loosen you up a little by bringing you a wench."

Kennyo's expression contorts into something akin to disgust and anger, his lips pulling into long lines as he glares at Motonari.

"Spare me your vile jokes. I know she is favoured by Nobunaga."

I gulp at the cold words, but feel a need to correct the both of them, not liking the assumptions or the suggestions made. But the tension between the two allies continues as Motonari scoffs once more, clearly enjoying the taunts.

"It is what makes her a good hostage."

Motonari cuts off my chance to speak up as they discuss my fate, my stomach sinking further as I wonder if Mitsuhide is within this league as well. It seems so unlikely, but then again, the pair that Motonari and Kennyo make seems contradictory as well.

"You only mean to ditch her with me to lure that vassal away. Don't deceive me."

Kennyo's unimpressed tone confirms some of my suspicions. It does nothing to reassure me as Motonari shrugs once more.

"Well-informed as ever. You and I both don't trust that fox and his foxling."

Sheer confidence meets disdain and the tension between them is suffocating, my heart beating erratically in my chest as I try to figure out an escape route. If there was any…

"And yet you have led them right to my base?"

Kennyo's suspicion seems to be rising by the minute, as his glare deepens. For a moment I worry about my own fate, wondering with whom I will be stuck with for the day until I can finally escape.

(Kennyo definitely seems nicer, but also more cautious. Chances are that I will have fewer opportunities to escape the monk than I have with the pirate, but even that’s uncertain. Motonari looks like he will actually shoot me with his cannons.)

(It doesn’t seem to matter who will take me at this point, I’m doomed either way.)

A deep sigh escapes me as I contemplate my pessimistic thoughts, quietly apologising to Kyubei for the failed lessons he had taught me. In the meanwhile Kennyo and Motonari had continued their debate, going back and forth on who is to take me.

"Heh. You'll be gentle with her, I know that as well. They might actually spare you for that. Don't worry, I will come back later. When the fox stops sniffing."

With this Motonari leaves, departing without giving me another word or even a look. It relieves me just a bit, as Kennyo turns towards me with an unreadable look in his eyes, his staff reflecting the early sun as he motions for me to follow him into the temple.

"You are an unlucky miss to be caught in this endless fighting of men."

Kennyo's voice startles me, his tone gentle in contrast to the suspicion in which he had treated Motonari with. It was almost as if he was coaxing a hurt animal instead, scared and huddled together, or speaking to a scared child. The broad back of the monk suddenly seems a little warmer as I’m reminded of another man.

"We're all caught."

"I pity you more."

"There is nothing to be pitied."

My words startle him as Kennyo throws a look over his shoulder, revealing his scar that is now pulled taut into a difficult expression. Somewhere I can see a warmth within him that he has smothered out in spite and in bitterness.

"We all have our role to play in this war. Yours shall be the key to bring down the Oda forces."

Kennyo states this so solemnly I can hardly believe that he means to actually use me, but I don't mistake the determination in his eyes, nor the bitterness the pull in his lips reveal. This was a man who is willing to go through hell and back to win this fight.

(Kyubei had once told me what happened to Kennyo and his temple and what the reasons behind Nobunaga's actions had been. It is unfortunate to see what this decision has led to, but another consequence of this turbulent time without peace.)

"To think that the foxling is a man after all."

Snapping out of my thoughts I face another wry smile from Kennyo. One that instills a dread within as I try to decode the meaning behind his words. It was clear, however, that the monk wasn't referring to Mitsuhide.

(Though Kyubei is a bit too tall to be called a -ling…)

"I was just another task handed to him."

I try to dispel the implications of Kennyo’s words and assumptions. Though the way Kennyo shakes his head in solemn disagreement makes it clear that neither of us are convinced by me.

"He won't betray his lord for me."

I try again, but realise that I have no clue what Mitsuhide's aim was, or what his plans were. Kennyo's expression contorts as he eyes me severely.

"He stepped out of the shade the moment he gave you his haori. You will be what will tie his hands."

Those dreaded words make me wonder what Kennyo is planning and what Kyubei’s role is in this collaboration with Motonari. But above all, I dread to find out what it is that Kyubei will choose.

(I don't want him to make that dreadful choice.)

Kennyo leads me into a small room at the back of the temple, leaving me behind there with a warning and some guards as I determine myself to start reflecting on all my lessons with Kyubei.

(I can't play the damsel-in-distress anymore. Not if I wish to protect the shadow I have come to love.)

#ikesen kyubei #ikemen sengoku kyubei #kyubei x reader #kyubei's route #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen x reader #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikesen kyubae #kyubae

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years

Text

The Mother of My Child

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, but I made a few changes. MC is still human, she is only Turned after they have a daughter. It came from a request, so it won’t be long, probably two parts, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: there’s a little bit of violence in the middle, but not much.

Part 1

The Mother of My Child - Part 2 (Finale)

During the last trimester, the only strong effect pregnancy was having on Annie was making her feel sleepy all the time. If insomnia robbed her nights for almost five months, now the woman couldn’t stay awake for long, always napping around the house. She was officially on maternity leave with no date to come back. Since her bosses were actually the child’s mother and godfather, the woman had all the time in the world to rest.

The pregnancy was already seven months long, almost eight. Her exams were perfect, nothing to worry about. It all indicated a healthy kid what would be born in nine weeks. Kamilah had put together a team of doctors in case of any problems during labour, with Annie or the child. She didn’t want to leave things up to fate.

“You are unbulivabu.” The human showed up at the bedroom door, a toothbrush hanging in her mouth. “Why is there four nursis checking on me??”

“I gave them your number, so it will be easier to monitor what you feel.” Kamilah was laying on the bed while reading another book about breast feeding.

“Ughhhhhhh” Annie went back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste and clean her face. When turned to leave, she accidentally bumped her toe on the door. “Ouch! Shit!”

“Is it the baby??” The Vampire was suddenly in front of her, hands grabbing the woman by the arms.

“Gee, chill. I just hurt my toe.” She laughed, letting Kamilah take her to bed. “You see, my Nana used to say that the more we try to control destiny, the more it escape our plans.”

“Not on my watch.”

That next afternoon, things got kind of busy at Ahmanet Financial. The Vampire was getting in and out of meetings, constantly checking her phone to make sure there was no messages from her wife. Annie was probably napping again.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Sayeed. The Baron wishes to have a word.”

“Ugh. Fine. Let him in. Thank you, Paul.”

Kamilah crossed her arms, waiting for that despising figure to emerge from the door. The smell of old whiskey and cigar took over the whole office. The Baron had two men with him, but both stayed a few steps behind.

“What do you want? The Council will meet next week.” she sighed, not in the mood to deal with another ‘Priya is stealing my territory’ argument.

“Good afternoon to you. That’s why I’m here. We must vote for whoever gets to control the north part of the city. I just want to make sure you choose correctly.” The Baron had such an ugly smile.

“Is that a threat?” the Vampire’s eyes were dangerously red. “I don’t wish that territory to belong to either of you. Both proved to be incompetents in the past.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to vote?” he approached her desk with heavy steps, pulling a phone from the pocket. “You know how much that area means to me.”

“What I know is that you want to open another underground casino, when you already have one working and causing us too much trouble already. I told you to get your men under control. It’s not my problem anymore. Now get the hell out of my office before I lose my patience.”

“Careful there. You might regret it.” The Baron turned his phone so Kamilah could see what was on the screen. “I came to negotiate. And I’m prepared.”

The Egyptian felt her own nails digging through the skin when she closed her hands in fists. “How… Dare… You…”

“You didn’t leave me a choice. Now, I will tell you exactly what I want, and you’re going to do give it to me. I’ll even leave the phone here, at your table, so you don’t lose focus.” He laughed at his own joke, sinking in one of the chairs.

Kamilah just kept a tense posture, staring at the screen where Annie was being filmed. Four of The Baron’s men were there, one of them holding a gun to her ribs. Something caught The Vampire’s attention in the scene. The way her wife was leaning back, hands roaming the belly… “You bastard, she is in labour!”

“A small setback. Focus. The faster we solve it, higher are the chances of you seeing your first child being born.”

Kamilah took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be wise to lose her temper now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Penthouse

“Please, I need to sit…” Annie had tears on her eyes, only able to stand up because of a rough hand on her back. “This hurts too much, I can’t…”

“Fine. Sit on the couch. Don’t try anything stupid.” He pushed her forward, a gun still pointed at the woman.

It all happened so fast. One minute, she was asleep, taking another regular afternoon nap. Then, a man was in her room, two, three, four. Annie recognized all of them later, but the sudden view of strangers in her house made her heart speed at first. The body couldn’t take that much adrenaline all at once. When they pulled her out of bed, the woman screamed and felt a deep pain pressuring her ribs. A couple minutes afterwards, she had a liquid coming down her legs. It was too early to have the baby, and the fear this could hurt her child only made it worse.

Annie knew why they were filming her. That’s why she was holding it in as much as she could, trying hard not to cry or show too much pain. Kamilah was probably being blackmailed, and the last thing the human wanted was for her wife to lose herself in anger.

“Oh no, no, no, no, stay inside little one, wait for your mommy…” she whispered, holding the belly as contractions were getting stronger. There was this desperate wish to arch and open the legs, her own body trying to tell her what to do.

One of their cell phones started ringing. The taller man answered and gave the others a knowing signal.

“It’s your lucky day.” said the one who pointed her the gun.

All four of them disappeared behind the door. Now, alone, without a camera filming her, Annie finally screamed against a pillow, dizzy of pain. Her heart was pounding against the chest. Then, a hand touched her shoulder.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Lily was leaning in, trying to find any injuries.

“Where is she?” the woman cried, removing the pillow. It was all too much.

“I’ll take you to the hospital, Kamilah will meet us there, she’s with Adrian… Finishing some business. You know.”

Something exploded downstairs. Guns started to fire.

“I don’t care what the hell is going on in there, you tell my wife to come here NOW!”

“Girl, you need a doctor.” She tried to lift her, but Annie only slid and grabbed the couch. There was a fire in her eyes that would give Lily nightmares for months.

“KAMILAH SAYEED YOU COME UP HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’M GOING TO LOCK THIS CHILD INSIDE MY WOMB!”

All the noises suddenly stopped. No explosion, guns firing, things breaking… Just the soft sound of the elevator’s doors opening. The Egyptian didn’t have a single strand of hair out of place, although her blazer was ripped near the pocket. A woman in a white coat was following her, completely terrified.

“Finally!” Annie rested her back against the couch, squatting and screaming as pushed the baby for the first time. Her body was only covered by a thin nightdress.

“Oh goodness, get me a sterilized towel!” the doctor fell on the floor, sitting right in front of the pregnant woman.

“On it!” Lily left and came back in half a second.

“I am deeply sorry…” Kamilah started, finding her place beside Annie, but she was interrupted by a kiss. Foreheads together, their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the pain was slowly drifting away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The human smiled, arching again in another strong push.

“Is it… Going well?” Adrian hesitated, not sure what to do. They didn’t even notice him coming out of the elevator, all covered in blood. “Can I get anything?”

“Yes, warm water…” the doctor gasped at that sight, almost losing track of what was happening. “Uhm… Right… You’re almost there, just one more push. A strong one. 3…2…”

Annie’s scream was substituted by a soft crying when the baby came out. Adrian had brought the water, so the doctor could clean the child a little bit before giving it to the mothers. Him and Lily were fighting against the tears, both holding hands.

“Oh man, we have a baby!” said the younger Vampire.

“Indeed, we do.” Kamilah took the child in her arms, cradling her close to the chest. It was the smallest human being she had ever seen in her two thousand years. “Lysia.”

“We have a family.” The most perfect family Annie could ever ask for.

“Well, I’m… I’m going to clean downstairs.” Adrian wiped his tears, slowly recomposing himself.

“Thank you, brother.”

“Wait, where did you come from?” Annie was suddenly staring at the doctor she had never seen before. “You’re not my doctor.”

“Mrs. Sayeed had me at Ahmanet Financial in case an emergency happened.”

“She… Oh my god, Kamilah. You had a doctor standing there, all day long, just in case?” the woman turned to see those guilty brown eyes.

“I told you I wasn’t going to risk anything.”

“Well, you know what?” Annie frowned, pretending to be mad for a second, but her sparkling eyes were telling the truth. She was the happiest woman alive. “I am so glad you’re the mother of my child.”

Tagging: @kamilahismyqueen and @nydeiri

#choices: stories you play #choices: bb #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bb kamilah #now its doneeeee #next request is a jealous kamilah #ON IT

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

Note

What changed the finale of GOT? What makes Westeros a better place? We see Bran pulling a full Robert and not bothering to even going to his smallcouncil meetings. Leaving Tyrion as a Jon Arryn of sorts. Nothing changed from the pillot. Part 1.

Furthermore the script says that a better future awaits Westeros because Sam, Davis and Brienne are better people. Wasn't Martin the one who criricized Tolkienn for his medieval filosophy of good man=good ruler. Where is the Aragorn tax police here? Brothels? So they are good people and Westeros is gonna be well. Part 2

It reads like Jaehaerys smallcouncil with good people such as Septon Barth or ser Rryam Redwyne. But as they died they were replaced by the likes of ser Otto Hightower and ser Cryston Cole. What stops Brienne or Sam succesor from being luke these men? What stops in the next royal election a person like Alejandro Borgia from being elected? What are the countermeasures of the new system?part 3.

Martin said that the Targ flaw was building the system on dragonpower and that the smallcouncil was never a countermeasure of this. So what does the finale of thhe series accomplish on the mark Martin story? What has changed for the better in Westeros? Why does it feels like we are back politically in the pilot. Does Martin or D&D think that some "elections" magiccally fix everything and makes a better world? That's the thinking of a kid? What does the finale accomplish?

Oh dear. Where to start? Oh yes: You are absolutely right.

Honestly, I think politically, the finale has only a vague resemblance to the book ending. I would not lay this on Martin’s feet. I mean, what is he going to say in interviews “Actually, they left out all the good parts and delivered a stupid version of half the ending. The real ending goes as follows…” Hardly.

He said

How will it all end? I hear people asking. The same ending as the show? Different?

Well… yes. And no. And yes. And no. And yes. And no. And yes.

It’s, at best, a partial ending. Most likely, a fraction. How can you resolve an issue you never introduce in the first place?

They already left out much of the physical misery the books prepare us for: starvation, sweeping illness, the roaving displaced, the siege situation around King’s Landing that may prompt political compromise. The political finagling that would lead to a Big Council in the first place. They reduced the fate of Westeros to the presence of a handful of Lords and Ladies at a meeting in a Dragon Pit. It’s condensed beyond recognition.So, yeah, politically, the finale of the tv show makes absolutely zero sense. I understand your frustration.

They will all need each other to survive the winter, most likely, but at the same time, you can’t change a feudal system over night. Maybe just replacing the central power of the Iron Throne with something multifaceted would be useful. Maybe the council could be more permanent? Who knows?? I’m not too invested in predicting it. But it is likely to make sense. GRRM has built his story around knowing the ending. It will not be stupid.

We know Catelyn suggested the Great Council all the way back in ACOK. It’s mentioned three times in the ASOIAF books, and tons more in the accompanying literature.

Jon was not entirely innocent of the history of the realm; his own maester had seen to that. “That was the year of the Great Council,” he said. “The lords passed over Prince Aerion’s infant son and Prince Daeron’s daughter and gave the crown to Aegon.” “Yes and no. First they offered it, quietly, to Aemon. And quietly he refused. The gods meant for him to serve, not to rule, he told them. He had sworn a vow and would not break it, though the High Septon himself offered to absolve him. Well, no sane man wanted any blood of Aerion’s on the throne, and Daeron’s girl was a lackwit besides being female, so they had no choice but to turn to Aemon’s younger brother—Aegon, the Fifth of His Name. Aegon the Unlikely, they called him, born the fourth son of a fourth son. Aemon knew, and rightly, that if he remained at court those who disliked his brother’s rule would seek to use him, so he came to the Wall. And here he has remained, while his brother and his brother’s son and his son each reigned and died in turn, until Jaime Lannister put an end to the line of the Dragonkings.” (ACOK, Jon)

Not sure it will go down quite like this. The dynamics are different. But Jon wouldn’t be happy on the Iron Throne. He wants to frolick in the northern Snows with a Lady wife and plentiful babies.

“Robb will set aside his crown if you and your brother will do the same,” she said,hoping it was true. She would make it true if she must; Robb would listen to her, even if his lords would not. “Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them.” Renly laughed. “Tell me, my lady, do direwolves vote on who should lead the pack?” Brienne brought the king’s gauntlets and greathelm, crowned with golden antlers that would add a foot and a half to his height. “The time for talk is done. Now we see who is stronger.” Renly pulled a lobstered green-and-gold gauntlet over his left hand, while Brienne knelt to buckle on his belt, heavy with the weight of longsword and dagger. “I beg you in the name of the Mother,” Catelyn began when a sudden gust of wind flung open the door of the tent. (ACOK, Catelyn)

When more women have a say, things will go down a bit better, yes? Yara, Arianne, Meera, ..?

Jon was tired. I need sleep. He had been up half the night poring over maps, writing letters, and making plans with Maester Aemon. Even after stumbling into his narrow bed, rest had not come easily. He knew what he would face today, and found himself tossing restlessly as he brooded on Maester Aemon’s final words. “Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel,” the old man had said, “the same counsel that I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” The old man felt Jon’s face. “You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” (ADWD, Jon)

I know we all love Maester Aemon, but I actually think he was full of manure. Don’t kill the boy. Dare to dream. If it goes down in a similar way, Jon will not be giving Bran that same advice.

My own personal favorite idea is, indeed, a permanent Great Council of several independent kinddoms and regions.

To resolve the matter of his heir once and for all, Jaehaerys called the first Great Council in the year 101 AC, to put the matter before the lords of the realm. And from all corners of the realm the lords came. No castle could hold so many save for Harrenhal, so it was there that they gathered. The lords, great and small, came with their trains of bannermen, knights, squires, grooms, and servants. And behind them came yet more—the camp followers and washerwomen, the hawkers and smiths and carters. Thousands of tents sprang up over the moons, until the castle town of Harrenton was accounted the fourth largest city of the Realm. (The World of Ice and Fire: The Targaeryen Kings: Jaeharys I)

Wouldn’t that be the sweetest irony? If the true ending to the Targaryen kingship led to a permanent council set up in the very geographic center of Westeros by the God’s Eye, making use of the castle that was just finished and doomed when Aegon started conquering Westeros? WHY have we spent so much time in that ruin if it is not meant to serve a purpose in the future? For a sort of parliament?

Let’s let King’s Landing become a port city, if it is to be rebuilt. Let the seat of power become something entirely new. I would love that.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #asoiaf speculation #iron throne #great council #asks #my posts #Harrenhal

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

The Transformers #23- Chaos Theory Part 2: Everything Ever is Whirl’s Fault, and He Didn’t Even Do Anything This Issue

Before the war, Orion Pax is watching the news. Turns out Nominus Prime got blown up earlier in the day, as Blaster reports from the scene of the crime. We get our first mention of the Militant Monoform Movement as we take a gander at all of Orion’s awards.

Turns out Orion went to college. Wonder what tuition’s like at the Institute of Higher Programming.

An incoming storm messes with the reception, and in walk three guys looking for trouble Whirl. Whirl’s currently in custody, seeing as Orion doesn’t take too kindly to beating suspects within an inch of their life.

General rule of thumb: anyone calling Whirl “popular” or a “friend” is either trying to kill him, or has made the attempt in the past.

So these guys are trying to get Whirl out of jail, using the power of persuasion and being generally threatening. Orion Pax is too much of a good egg to be swayed by such tactics, however, so they’ll have to up the ante.

In the present day, Optimus is having a brooding session in the engine room- I’m only assuming it’s the engine room- and Ratchet checks in.

I suppose “frazzled” is a word we could use, Ratchet, sure.

Optimus feels as if his decision on whether Megatron should be executed or imprisoned for the rest of time is going to be biased either way. Dang, almost sounds like putting it to a vote with the leader of the Autobots would be a better way of handling this, huh Optimus? It’s almost as if you’re compromised here, and we need a little friggin’ democracy going on.

Ratchet asks why he hasn’t consulted the Matrix on this whole situation, breaking out the quotation fingers whilst referring to its wisdom, but Optimus ain’t too sure about all that either. When Optimus first got the Matrix shoved into his body, that shit hurt. It hurt a LOT, and he’d interpreted that as a sort of warning that carrying it was a huge responsibility. Way bigger than taking care of a dog. Now he’s questioning whether or not he actually wants the responsibility.

Hey, if you’re having second thoughts about being Prime, you ought to give Bumblebee a little more room to work and be the leader of the Autobots like you wanted him to be, and maybe consider handing the Matrix back over to Rodimus-

Oh who am I kidding? His martyr complex would NEVER let that happen.

Back in the past, Wheelarch and Springarm are waxing poetic about how cool their new boss Orion Pax is. He’s strong, and heroic, and making a difference in the world, and he’s got just the most beautiful blue eyes-

Anyway, they arrive back at the precinct to discover where all the criminal scum have gotten to- Orion already bagged ‘em.

You know, I think tying suspects to poles in the ground in the office section, packing the room so tightly they can’t even sit or stand comfortably… I think that might be a touch illegal, Orion. Unethical, if nothing else.

A bit later on, Springarm wants to know just what the hell that was all about. Orion’s been thinking about Megatron’s writing, and how he thinks the Senate is institutionally corrupt, and that visit from Whirl’s “friends” is starting to make him think that maybe the guy had a point. It bothers him.

Springarm turns to his faith when he’s feeling bothered by deep questions like whether or not the world government is is enacting a caste-system in an attempt to control the populace.

This just in, the future space pope is a goddamned atheist. Perhaps this is why interfacing with the Matrix hurts him- it relies on a mutual respect between itself and its Prime, and there ain’t nothing less respectful than thinking of the thing as a literal ornament.

Orion thanks Springarm for the advice, but he’s going to work through this without spiritual guidance.

In the present, Optimus meets with Rodimus, and asks a question he’s never been able to ask before: how did it feel to interface with the Matrix?

Well dang, Rodders, tell us how you really feel!

It should be noted that Rodimus does have some level of faith in the gods, the Matrix, the Knights of Cybertron, and several other Cybertronian legends and myths- which sort of makes the MTMTE Knight Quest look like a bit of a crusade, doesn’t it? Does believing in the Matrix let it bond more seamlessly with the bearer? Methinks it just might.

Back in the past, Orion Pax gets back from patrol to find the precinct has been broken into, and his two motorbike boys aren’t doing so hot.

Oh man, Valve’s going to be pissed.

Moving real stealthy-like, Orion moves to the holding cells, where he catches those guys from earlier trying to spring Whirl from jail. Well, two of them anyway. The third guy is behind him, and shoots him in the back.

Luckily, Orion’s old body-frame includes a backpack, and this move doesn’t kill him. He sweeps the leg of his assailant, shoots Whirl in the leg so he can’t escape, then runs to his trophy case to grab the fancy gun someone gave him. Wonder what it was for.

Alas! It’s not loaded. Which you ought to expect from an award gun, unless you loaded it yourself before you put it in the case. Which he didn’t, clearly.

Three versus one, and the solo act doesn’t have any weapons. What’s a guy to do?

This is deeply silly. I adore it.

Thinking quickly, Orion drags Springarm’s headless body into a closet. This isn’t necessarily a smart move, but give it a second. As the three thugs discuss murder-based puns, Orion prepares to enact a Roberts’ writing essential.

Corpse desecration.

Riding his coworker’s lifeless body through the precinct, he runs down his attackers, stabs one of them in the throat with one of his arm cannons in front of all the ‘bots currently in the cells, and goes to find Whirl.

Whirl, who knows to get going while the getting’s good, warns Orion that the Senate has eyes everywhere, and if he so much as touches Whirl his whole life is gonna get turned upside down and inside out, and not in a fun way. And he’d know.

Smash cut to the Grand Imperium, home of the Senate, where everything is blue and gold, fear tactics are at play on the political stage, and everyone is suffering from a nasty case of same-face syndrome. Senator Proteus is about to enact the Clampdown, a strict rule of martial law that will, under the guise of protecting the people and weeding out terrorism, in actuality allow the Senate to hoard power like a bunch of dragons.

Then Orion shows up, after fighting off the entirety of the Senate security force, while carrying a one-legged Whirl.

Got a nice shot of some bird ass, and Orion’s honkers are halfway out. I wonder if this particular chunk of fan-service was specified in the script, or if this is purely Milne.

Sentinel calls off the dogs, and Orion has his say. He throws Whirl on the floor, introducing him to everyone as the cause of every problem ever. Well, not really, but pretty close.

Orion, you can’t just say a guy caused two people to die and then not expect to have to deal with the repercussions of pummeling his psyche at some point down the road.

Orion goes on to mention Megatron, bringing up his writings and how they revealed to him the dark, ugly underbelly of the Senate that he’d been blind to until that point. This is still the guy who arrested drug addicts for using and tied them to a pole, by the by. He’s less than 48 hours into this Megatron kick, and still got a lot to rectify within himself.

Orion coins the term “Autobots”, reclaiming a friggin’ slur the other races in the galaxy have taken to calling the Cybertronians.

I wasn’t kidding.

The Senate members are starting to get rowdy about being called out on their bullshit, and have Orion removed from the building, but not before he can ask Megatron’s three questions:

1. In whose interests do the Senate exercise their power?

2. To whom is the Senate accountable?

3. How can the populace get rid of them?

No answers are given, as he’s taken away. He did use Megatron’s name, by the way. His full one, with the “of Tarn” attached and mentioned where he worked. Smooth moves, Orion. Now Megatron’s going to be targeted for politically-charged murder.

In the present, Optimus Prime’s made a decision on what exactly to do with Megatron- and his decision is to let Megatron decide his fate, because freedom is the right of all sentient beings, and part of that is getting to choose your fate.

Megatron picks death, like, immediately.

Optimus gets the Matrix back from Ratchet, who he left its care in- he wanted to be sure that he was still the person he had been back when he made that speech to the Senate. Glad your crisis of self went well, Optimus.

Back in the past, Orion Pax meets with a senator in front of the Ark-1 memorial, very secret-like. See this senator’s seen all the nonsense that goes on in the Senate, and he’s about had it. Forget what all Megatron wrote about, it’s way, way worse in reality. He can’t prove it, but the attack on Nominus Prime was an inside job, so that the Senate could get their hands on the Matrix and figure out how it creates life.

I know, it’s crazy.

Things will probably pop off very soon, so the Senator’s taken the liberty of modifying Orion Pax’s chest cavity while he was passed out receiving repairs.

So the guy made a little hidey-hole for the Matrix in Orion’s body, so that he could one day be Prime.

Hey.

Hey, Senator.

Consent is sexy, man. Don’t be like that.

#transformers #jro #the transformers 2009 #issue 23 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

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choicesenthusiast · 4 years

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The Royal Masquerade, Ch. 15 AKA Ah, Here’s The Excitement

What happened this week:

After a few months of pointless dawdling, kinkytime clickbait and no content at all, it’s finally time for the Conclave. To be honest, I’ve kinda been dreading the ending of this book. This chapter was quite a surprise. Keep reading to find out what I mean.

In a flashback to justify an outfit, it is revealed that Vasco and Kendra know of a secret about our parentage.

Our LI gifts us Kendra’s old royal falcon, who responds in the same way as the hawk from TCaTf. Ah, the good old days.

There’s a suspicious lady floating around the palace, and you can choose to arrest her or let her go. If you let her go she isn’t mentioned in the chapter again, but if you arrest her then they’ll get back to that after the Conclave.

Speaking of, the Conclave begins, Percival’s absent, and the votes are tied 2-2. He then barges in almost dead, and promptly passes out right before casting his vote.

In a diamond scene, it’s revealed that he was ambushed, the assassin headed for the palace, then casts his vote for us, and pronounces Emery as his heir, which complicates things just a little bit.

Emery switches her vote to back House Vescovi, and in a last-ditch attempt, we reveal the hidden will. The session is thrown into disarray, but before anything happens, a crossbow bolt is fired at us from a balcony.

Kayden stops the bolt with magic, then they, along with Cyrus (whom we have accused of taking part in the Queen’s assassination) are arrested, and the Conclave is resumed.

Emery switches her vote to back us, and we’ve won, but, god, at what cost?

Thoughts:

Holy shit, this chapter was intense. Where was this energy from the rest of the book? All of the elements that made this book interesting were shoved to the back to make way for debauchery and the whole TRR-esque social season, only to resurface about 3 chapters before the finale? Come on, man.

Let’s recap what we still need to resolve: our parentage, the assassin, Kayden, the suspicious woman, Percival’s fate, our coronation, Cyrus’ trial, Renza, and probably some other things that I can’t recall. That’s way too much to cover in 2 chapters.

That line about finally donning your mask and joining the royal masquerade? That shit was poetic. The highlight of the chapter.

Lowkey mad that MC wasn’t the sorcerer, but okay.

Imagine spending diamonds on Annalisa and Percival only to have PB yeet that out the window. Can’t relate.

Who’s gonna tell Cyrus that he isn’t. A. Sexual. Icon. His dog has more sex appeal than he does.

Why did this chapter have more substance than the rest of the book?

#this week on choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #the royal masquerade

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

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Digging through the archives 1: The ReBoot drama

Hello and welcome to one of the first “subsections” of posts I am going to make on this tumblr for the sake of an easier overview. This one is titlted “Digging through the archives”, because it will always relate to something I will find by literally looking for some of the oldest “opinion” or personal related stuff about Dobson that there is. So think of this here less as me tackling his comics and more of my own version of what the Hypocrisy of Andrew Dobson does.

With that explanation out of the way, lets just briefly talk about Dobson and his idea of fan entitlement; If you have followed Dobson throughout the last year or so, you know he has a very low opinion on fans of the original She-Ra and He-Man, 80s cartoons in general and Star Wars, to the point he thinks the people behind it are all potential alt righters (link red flag comic) or basically man children.

To anyone who knows Dobson however, it would be no surprise now to learn that he has a tendency to be the same kind of way to other people and creators. Like when he whined to an actual writer on a Frozen related property about the necessity of giving Elsa a girlfriend, which even resulted in Aaron Sparrow being involved at one point, a professional animator and comic writer on the Boom Comics related Darkwing Duck issues. A prime example on how Dobson will literally make himself also unsympathetic to the people he wants to work for/with.

But then there is what I found in relation to a little animated series by the name of ReBoot and that is really where both his entitlement and egotism kinda shine.

For those unaware: ReBoot was a computer animated adventure show produced by Mainframe Entertainment and ran from 1994 to 2001. It is actually listed as the first fully computer animated cartoon out there and is fondly remembered by a lot of people. Unfortunately, I myself have never watched it so I can’t give a “valid” opinion on it. All I have seen so far are clips on youtube but I will admit that what I have seen in them looks fun and intriguing, even if the animation at parts (especially in season 1 related content) has not aged that well. But hey, early computer animation, that is forgivable. And any media that manages to make an episode that is also in a way a huge tribute to Evil Dead of all things in a children cartoon is a big win for me.

youtube

Now, how is ReBoot connected to Dobson? Dobson has been a fan of ReBoot, a fact he made publicly known when in 2007 rumors of a continuation of ReBoot emerged. Something Dobson, again, the man who is pissed about the entitlement of She-Ra fans, has not been very happy about.

But Dobson, what is so wrong about being “different” from the past? After all, let the past die! The original show had terrible artwork! And not everything back in the day was good, right?

Yeah, it is pretty obvious how his complaining and stands against “modern” fans ring pretty hollow when he himself acted as the entitled brat he thinks critics of new She-Ra and Thundercats Roar are, back in 2007 already. Also I honestly feel that at the very least the creators of that idea gave their fans still more “control” than Rian Johnson did. And we all know how much Star Wars suffered in terms of reputation because of it.

BTW, this webcomic continuation mentioned? It is actually not just a rumor that went nowhere, but one of the most fascinating aspects I found when reading up on ReBoot via Wikipedia. The idea was that of the five potential pitches (so again, there was variety given that even could have been expanded on) people could choose one that would be further adapted. Additionally the people behind the idea were looking for more active input by fans, giving people the chance to apply as artists working on it if they decided to submit samples people could vote on. Something Dobson jumped actually on. And tried to manipulate in his own favor

The thing that catches my attention at first is how hyperbole Dobson is. Claiming the fate of the show is in their hands and treating voting on this thing like it’s a live or die situation, with pointlessly writing stuff in caps as if we are reading the headline of some trashy newspaper article. It just comes off less as someone who is a fan and more of a fanatic of the show. Second, I just find it hilarious that of all the plattforms online Dobson decided to post that “VERY IMPORTANT” information people should act immediately on, was deviantart. Did he genuinely expect people would flock to what he wrote in order to immediately do something about the vote? Deviantart even back then was mostly for posting fanart, few people read journals and even less people cared for ReBoot. I don’t know if the /co/ board of 4chan existed back in 2007 already, but he would have had more success posting on there and get the information out, than on dA.

Lastly, the shameless self promotion. Stating he does not care which pitch wins, when only three day prior he whined how they all suck and he wishes the show would be done justice by someone. That someone obviously being him, the person who is so hardcore as a fan, because he already waited 8 years just to watch season 3. Damned be any other artists or pitches that may be better or more popular than him, HE is the true messiah and that is his chance to shine. So don’t be “neutral” and judge fairly based on actual competence, talent and effort, just vote for him blindly or else Trump wins the second term and your beautiful nation turns into the fourth rei- I mean, Dobson will be a very sad guy who has come to terms with the fact he is not talented enough to work on a reboot/continuation of his favorite children show.

Well, it seemed to have had some impact though, as four day later he posted this

And obviously Dobson is pissed his favorite pitch did not win and instead of being grateful for the good ratings some of his artwork got he focuses instead on the fact that his Enzo and Megabyte pic had the lowest rating. Which in my opinion it kinda deserved. I mean, look at those artpieces:

Enzo is okayish looking but the rest? That is not Megabyte and a genuine background, it is a cola light version of the entire Ripley disaster with the Samus Artwork commission. Also, Enzo’s hands just look weird. His fingers more alien than they need to be and the position of his legs not really adjusting to how the hip is supposed to move. The comic sample page that Dobson drew being okay overall, aside of the fact that Enzo in one panel HAS FOUR INSTEAD OF FIVE FINGERS ON ONE HAND DESPITE HAVING FIVE FINGERS IN A PREVIOUS PANEL. I am also not really a fan of how Dobson puts emphasize on the word “FAN” and “PAGES” in the post, indicating he thinks he is a better and bigger fan than any of the people who submitted their entries too, off handedly praising them but also making it obvious he thinks he is the most fit for the job, because he can also “copy any artstyle” and adjust to the needs of his superiors. Yeah, sure. That’s why you are nowadays and with even more time and effort put into your work so “good” at imitating Ladybug, your comics look exactly like in the show…

Now considering that Dobson does not have ReBoot under his resume and likely tried his best to bury any enthusiasm for it, you can imagine how this chance at being an official artist ended up.

Not even much of a follow up or introspective in why he may have not won. His enthusiasm died within two days.

And honestly, I am surprised that as a result he did not fake depression and rage quit doing comics for a month or so as he did here and there.

And that is pretty much the end of the ReBoot drama, at least as far as I know.

If you are interested what happened with the comic project, here is what I managed to gather:

The project did actually not die in development, but “ReBoot: Arrival” would be reimagined under the name “Code of Honour” and be published online in three “issues” over the course of the next few months. The comic’s status as “canon” continuation of the show is however very much in the air, as quite a lot of people think it is something of a fanfiction, others think it is a good enough continuation that unfortunately still does not deliver on an “ultimate” ending of the franchise. That said, with additional plans like a movie trilogy never been realized and the “reboot” known as “ReBoot: The Guardian Code” having been perceived as an insult by fans and a disappointment by most audiences (which Dobson was surprisingly silent about) this comic seems to be the best thing fans can still hope for and read.

youtube

Yeah, I am not even kidding. The comic is still up. Here, have two links to independent pages if you want to either read it for the first time or revisit it for the sake of nostalgia.

As for Dobson, if he reads this, I just have one thing to say to you: Don’t you ever again try to whine about how entitled fanboys are, if you felt entitled enough yourself you tried to manipulate a competition in your own favor in the hope to become a writer and then exploit ReBoot for your own agenda and benefit.

#andrew dobson #syac #tom preston #she-ra #reboot #reboot:the guardian code #western animation #computer animation #bob #megabyte #enzo #hypocrisy

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banditthewriter · 5 years

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Choose Your Fate - Caspian - 3

Here we have part three! It was voted for a tour of Cair Paravel. I hope you all like it!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The rooms that you were put up in were beautiful. The bed was ornately carved and the artwork was most likely priceless. There was so much gold and silver in the room that you felt like you could pay to keep your kingdom fed just by the things in the bedroom.

That didn't even include the items in the living area or in the room adjacent that Lom was put in. And poor Lom, he'd probably be more comfortable sleeping on the floor.

In fact you wouldn't be surprised if he slept on one of the overly comfortable couches in the living area instead.

Caspian had told you he would come by shortly to check on how you were settled. You didn't have much to do since you'd left all of your belongings on the ship. Your men wouldn't get back with them for at least another few hours.

It left you with a lot of time and not much to fill it with.

That in mind, you asked Lom to accompany you on a walk around the palace. You were curious about Cair Paravel and with nothing else to do, you figured it was the perfect time.

As the two of you stepped out of the living area, you nearly collided with the king who was coming to check on you. His brilliant smile took your breath away again.

"My apologies. I was just coming to see if the rooms were to your liking. We have others available if you'd prefer."

You couldn't imagine the ones that were available. Instead you gave a polite curtsy.

"They are perfect, thank you. We were actually just about to tour around the palace if that's alright."

Caspian's smile widened as he looked between the two of you.

"Of course, please," he said with a gesture to the hallway.

You started to walk forward but hesitated. You knew you needed to start to make a connection with this king if your negotiations were to go well. And it couldn't hurt to be friendly.

"If you are not busy, would you mind giving us a tour? I dare say we would get lost on our own."

His smile became softer, more sincere. He gave a low nod before he moved to your side.

"It would be my pleasure Y/N. Come, there's much to see before dinner."

After a brief pause, you accepted the offered arm. Lom shot you a look but you weren't worried. Caspian seemed genuine and bright eyed. You didn't think he had it in him to be nefarious.

It gave you a strange sense of hope for the negotiations. Surely a king this pleasant would be easily swayed.

The tour of the palace started with the access to the courtyards. Caspian gave little anecdotes about various rooms as you passed them, but there were several that he said he didn't even know the use or purpose of.

He showed you the small dining room that he said he took most of his meals in. There was a larger banquet hall that he expressed he wished was used more often.

Next was the kitchens, although you didn't go in. He told you that the cooks were happy to have guests at any time of day.

"This is one of the libraries," he said as he threw open the doors to show a large room with ceiling to floor bookshelves. "It is open to anyone in the palace so feel free to come in and grab a book."

You doubted that Lom would take him up on that offer, but depending on how long you were there, you might be tempted to stop by yourself.

The next set of doors were so tall, you weren't sure how a single man could open them, but when Caspian pushes on them, they came open without a sound.

"This is my favorite room in the castle."

The room was long and wife, the walls stretching up beyond belief. Along the walls were shutters and the one that was open showed a beautiful balcony that overlooked the ocean. If all of the shutters were open, this room would be a vision to be sure.

You noticed the throne next. It was an ornate golden throne with red cushions on the seat and back. The back of the throne had the head of a lion carved into the gold.

Though your knowledge of Narnia was limited, even you had heard about Aslan.

There were also exquisite and detailed murals on the walls between the shuttered openings. Each one seemed to depict battles or key events. You could pick out Caspian in a few of the murals, a grand lion in a few. And there were four other beings that reappeared in more than a few of the murals.

While you thought Caspian was showing you his throne room, you noticed his attention was on the other wall. There stood four pillars that would be around your height. As you all approached, you saw something was encased in glass on top of the pillars.

Each pillar had a crown encased in glass. And on the front of the white stone pillars were names carved into each one.

Peter the Magnificent. Susan the Gentle. Edmund the Just. Lucy the Valiant.

"The kings and queens of Narnia before me," he said as he went by and touched the edge of each glass case. "They were my family. I miss them every day."

You had heard stories of the Kings and Queens of old, but your knowledge of Narnia wasn't extensive. Caspian seemed so distant as he remembered them that you didn't want to ask.

As if remembering that he wasn't alone, Caspian looked up at you in surprise. His hand fell from the last case and he cleared his throat.

"There's more to see if you are interested. Or perhaps you would prefer to rest until your belongings are delivered."

As much as you'd like to see the rest of the palace, resting sounded good as well. A week of travel by sea and then this? You were feeling a bit run down.

"Rest would be welcome," you said as you took a step back, your eyes still taking in the sight of the room.

"Let me walk you to your rooms. Dinner will be served shortly if both of you would kindly join me."

You gave a low bow of your head. When you lifted your head back up, you were confronted with another one of Caspian's wonderful smiles.

"It would be my pleasure," you said kindly as you took his arm once more.

There was something about this king, something you couldn't put your finger on. Maybe there was more to him than you had originally thought.

------

Lom studied you from his position on the couch in the living area between your two rooms. You tried to pretend you couldn't feel his eyes on you, but he wasn't even trying to hide it.

"You can speak your mind captain," you said as you looked over a floral arrangement on the table. "You've never stood on ceremony with me before."

The captain cleared his throat, obviously not bothered with being caught out. Instead he walked a little closer to you.

"I was wondering if perhaps there was something you'd like to talk to me about. Pertaining to a certain king."

You stopped what you were doing and turned slowly to face your captain. Lom was one of your closest advisers and the head of your navy. He was also a close friend to your parents before they passed.

"There's nothing to say."

The captain nodded slowly as he looked you over. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight.

"I never had a daughter myself," he explained as he looked away from you, his face turning pink as he did, "but I've seen plenty of women's faces when they are taken with a man. I can recognize the look."

You were too busy being amused by his embarrassment to realize what he had said at first. But then his words slowly sank in.

"Taken with a man? Are you… are you referring to me and the king?"

Lom’s bearded face grew even darker.

"The king is a charming fellow. And I've never seen you with moon eyes upon meeting another royal, especially one who we've been at odds with."

You wanted to tell Lom that he was mad or that he was mistaken. You wanted to storm out of the room in a huff, but that wasn't very queenly of you.

Instead you turned to fully face Lom, your fingers laced as they rested against your stomach.

"I can assure you that whatever my distraction, it will not interfere with my duty as queen. Fareha is the most important thing to me."

You watched as the captain sagged a bit, maybe in relief that it wasn't as bad as he thought. But then he approached you and put a gentle hand on your forearm.

"You are a queen, a great queen. Both of your parents would be proud of you for all you have done for your kingdom." He paused as he squeezed your arm, a comforting touch you appreciated. "Just don't forget that you're a young woman as well. You can't control if you're attracted to someone, not even this king."

You pulled away from Lom, but not abruptly. You didn't want him to think you were mad at him for speaking to you like this. In fact Lom was probably the only person you trusted to give it to you straight.

"If I am attracted to the king—and I'm not saying I am—it won't matter. I'll focus on the negotiations and keep my attention to myself."

Lom cleared his throat to draw your attention back to him.

"He seems like a nice enough lad. Perhaps a wed–"

"Let's not get carried away," you said with a laugh, enjoying Lom’s embarrassment a bit more now, "this is just the negotiations for our kingdoms, not for anything else."

Lom laughed and shook his head as he turned away to go back to the corner.

"And if it comes up in negotiations?"

You didn't have a response for that.

------

Dinner was an interesting affair. You left your crown in the suite, the only concession you made for the evening. Your chests had not arrived yet so you weren't able to change into something less decorative, but it would have to do.

In the dining room, the table was set for four people but only the three of you were present. Caspian's seat was at the head of the table, but he moved to the seat directly to the right to pull the chair out for you. Lom sat beside you, his hand on the dagger at his hip for most of the meal.

Caspian was a talented conversationalist. He made sure to split his attention between you and Lom almost evenly. The two of them were seafaring men, so they had plenty to talk about.

You sat enraptured by Caspian's tale of a gargantuan sea serpent that attacked his vessel, the Dawn Treader.

Between the second and third course, someone joined the three of you in the dining hall. The lady looked younger than you, with dark brown hair and eyes the color of sea glass. She looked ill, pale sickly skin with rosy cheeks. Her hands shook as she pressed a cloth to her cheek when she arrived.

Lom and Caspian both stood when she arrived. The king moved to the fourth chair and pulled it out for the girl, making sure she was seated before he called one of the servants to attend to her.

"Lady Eloise, this is Queen Y/N of Fareha. Y/N, this is Lady Eloise, the daughter of one of my generals. He is out on a campaign so I offered to have Lady Eloise stay at the palace for her comfort."

Her comfort. It was obvious that she was ill. Perhaps that was why the king offered; to keep her comfortable and to help with her illness.

"It's a please to meet you," the girl rasped, grabbing her goblet to wet her throat. "I hope your trip was favorable."

"It was, thank you," you said softly, your heart hurting for the girl. "I am not as accustomed to sea voyages as the king or my captain, but I faired well enough. Have you ever been to sea?"

The girl smiled a bit as she went about digging into her salad.

"The ocean air helps," she explained between bites, "but I'm afraid my father doesn't let me go as often as I would like."

You turned to look at Caspian while Eloise's attention was on her salad. He gave you a grave look as he went back to his own food.

The girl was ill and it seemed like they had given up hope for a cure or an end to her ailment. You felt for the girl. She seemed like she had high spirits despite her situation.

Perhaps one of the healers that traveled with you would know something to help the girl. After all, Fareha was known for being advanced with their medicines.

You would see to that as soon as you could.

A post for voting will be up after this.

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#caspian #caspian x reader #caspian imagine #caspian fanfic #my writing #choose your fate #choose your fate - caspian

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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First off I wanna say your writing? Amazing. I love it. I've binged your blog like five times. Second, can I request la squadra headcanons with a doctor s/o? It'd be cool to see how all the murder bois handle loving someone who saves lives as a living. Thank you if you can do this request and regardless, have a wonderful day and know you're a great writer!!!

Hi there, honey! Aaaaaa goooood you make me blush!! o////o hhh thank you for your super kind words :,) Ooooh sure sure!! Here we go :3

La Squadra with a doctor s/o

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero

Ironically, he and his s/o met when they were back from their night shift at the hospital. He was heading back to the HQ after a mission and, seeing them in difficulty with their car, he stopped to help. They seemed harmless, he was too tired to hide with Metallica and, frankly, who cared. After meeting them again, randomly -he was unaware that they were actually trying to spot him wherever they were-, and finding their company enjoyable, he asked them out for a friendly date, which turned out as a real date, in the end.

He was a bit baffled, finding out they were a doctor -and this explained why he had met them so many times at early morning hours-, but in a positive way. He does his job because he has to do, it’s nothing more than this. He doesn’t actively enjoy to steal life, but this is his work, his fate and he has accepted it. Seeing them, however, so passionate about their work, doing long shifts at every hour of the day and night, doing their best to save as much people as possible… it’s inspiring. Their love for life makes him see the world in a different way. Maybe… he’s starting to love life again, thanks to them.

However, he has to be honest with them. Even if he doesn’t show it, he’s scared of rejection, now: he has allowed himself to grow attached to them, losing them would hurt him a lot. When he says them what he does to live, they do the last thing he imagined: they just ask him if he enjoys his work. At his negative answer, they hug him, murmuring that it’s all ok; they know he’s, by now, obliged to do it. They’re not naive: world is a cruel place and their Risotto found himself in a situation without happy solutions. Still, he managed not to become a monster and this is what it matters.

Prosciutto

He met them in a bar, on late night. They were just out of the hospital, after a long, tiring day, and definitely needed a drink. Prosciutto spotted them immediately: they were a new face. So, from his hidden and calm spot, he studied them, their moves, the drink they were sipping. He noticed they came in precise days, as after a work shift; once learned this and assured they weren’t a threat, he approached them. No one was immune to Prosciutto’s charm and so they too were so: after a long and pleasant talk, it wasn’t a problem to invite them for a coffee.

Jokes on Prosciutto, what he thought would have been a flirt or, at most, a one night stand, ended up being his loved s/o. He treasured them above everything else, voting his life to protect and make them happy. However, the fact that they are a doctor bugs him a little, even if not because he disapproves their work: he’s really proud of them; the person he’s not proud of is himself. He’s an assassin, a top tier one, even more; he steals life to live, while his s/o saves them. How could they work? They’re the exact opposite. This thought bugs him every day and he savour every day as it’s the last. However, he knows he can’t go on like this, hiding the truth: it’s time to reveal himself for who he is.

And so he calls them, asking them to talk. They are scared that he wants to break up with them, that their time is already come to an end… they don’t expect the utterly sincere confession. They stay silent for long, absorbing it. It’s hard to unite the two Prosciutto, the loving and teasing one they know and the assassin… but, looking at him, they don’t see a different man, as they almost feared. Always their Prosciutto, now on the edge and tense. When they go to him to kiss him, he can finally release a tense sigh, as he brings them in a hug, relieved beyond imagination. Sincerity had payed back, in the end.

Pesci

The first time they met it had been rather silly and normal: they both were buying groceries at the near supermarket. They didn’t know where skincare products were and he led them to the right aisle. That was all; however, they met again some other times and by now they recognized each other, weaving at each other and chit chatting a little. If Prosciutto or someone else asks him why he’s later than usual from errands, he just says that he had to wait in line. He loves to have a friend outside work, outside the team… it’s refreshing. Maybe he even starts to develop a little crush on them, but he never actively thought his feelings could be returned… until they ask him out for a coffee.

He’s so happy, with them! he couldn’t ask for more.They’re gentle and kind and caring… they’re a doctor, after all. Care and gentleness are in their nature. He loves the passion and sincere dedication they put in their work, to save as much people as they can… it inspires him to do his best too. If he improves, he can better protect his comrades, even save their life, as his s/o does with their patients! When they’re back from their shifts, he’s the one who makes them smile; he loves to listen to their stories, to hear that their patients are feeling better… he’s here to hug them when they lose one of them. As assassin, he knows how much life is fragile and he doesn’t blame them if they’re suffering, leaving aside their professionalism, for once.

Pesci, however, is not so good at keeping secrets to his loved ones; until now the only people in his life were his comrades, but now there’s his s/o too. He doesn’t think it’s right to keep secret from them such an important part of his life and so, one day, he decides to face the issue and talk about it to them. He waits in a tense silence their response, already picturing them taking their things and leaving him forever. However, when he feels their arms around him, he opens wide his eyes, baffled: how can they hate him for this? They know that no one enters in mafia for fun, but because something went really really wrong in their life; they’re pained to know that something in his life went so bad to force him to choose this way. Now, however, they’re together: things will get better.

Formaggio

The first time he met them, they weren’t walking on a nice and safe road. They had been called for a home emergency visit in one of the most dangerous districts of all Naples and they were scared. Well, not randomly: criminals were around and, among them, Formaggio was here too. But, luckily for them, Formaggio was above simple thieves; he saw them, but he didn’t touch or near them. Still, some drunkards did so and, being already nearby, Formaggio intervened, chasing them away. Seeing he wasn’t drunk nor had bad intentions, they agreed on being escorted out of the district and, to thank him for his help, they invited you for a coffee the next day.

What he really didn’t expect was that coffee to turn into a second coffee, then a third, then they finally admitted they were dating and soon after they were moving together. He couldn’t ask for more, they were amazing, patient… and a doctor. This left him surprised, at first, but it wasn’t something that could stop them from being together. It wasn’t, also, like he and his team sent people to them; when they striked, they sent people directly to obituary. Still… he almost feels guilty. His s/o is a so caring person, so sweet and devote to their work… and here he is. He’s the one they hate most, the one who steals the life they try strenuously to save.

He has to tell everything a night when he came back heavily injured. He’s a top elite, but this doesn’t make him invulnerable! While they patch him, worried as hell, he’s finally forced to admit everything. His profession, his life… He’s ready to see them go away, as it always happened. Nothing good lasts long, with him. But his s/o surprised him once more; they didn’t go away and they just told him to be more careful, next time. At his bewildered face, they just say they already suspected something, but this didn’t matter: they knew that Formaggio, deep inside, was a good person and he loved them: this was enough.

Melone

Melone is one who always managed to slide in internships into hospitals. He loves medicine but, alas, he couldn’t ever go to university and actually become what he dreamed to be, a surgeon. So he follows some internships, taking advantage of some documents Illuso or Formaggio stole for him -a favor for a favor- and, during one of these, he met his future s/o, a young, brilliant doctor. Melone was immediately fascinated by their determination, by the passion they had for their work… a curiosity and a devotion he knew well. He tried as much as he could to meet with them and, after a lot of chattings and laughs, they decided to see each other out of the hospital.

That encounter went so well, to Melone’s utter surprise, to turn in a second “date” and so on. He didn’t dare to hope in more than a one night stand, but here they are, together and even talking about living together! He never thought he could have been so happy. They are perfect for him, passionate, smart, extremely intelligent, devote to their work… but here Melone’s enthusiast cracked. They were a doctor… he wasn’t. He wasn’t even a medicine student. He was… an assassin. He killed as job. Would they accept it? He highly doubted it and the fear of rejection and abandonment twisted his guts to no end. He was so anguished that his s/o started to seriously worry about him and this was the moment when Melone understood it was time to reveal the truth.

And so he did, his head low and his words heavy. How would they react? He’s so scared… like never before. He knows he’s going to lose them, as he has lost everything beautiful in his life. His heart is already breaking. Still, he doesn’t hear any scream or accusation or slammed door. Just silence. He slowly lifts his head, finding them still here, looking at him. They ask him to tell them all the story, how he ended up doing what he does, if he enjoys it… and he tells them everything. When he finally finishes, he’s lighter and he feels even better when they just hug him tight, almost protective. Melone has faced many horrors in his life, many prejudices, but he managed not to lose all his light and they love him for this.

Illuso

Illuso has always been the one in charge to steal bandages and medicines, since the paycheck didn’t allow the group to afford enough of them. Passing from mirror to mirror, Illuso could easily sneaking in the hospital and stealing what the group needed, going back in the mirror world: no one ever noticed it. Still, from his safe spot, he observed the hospital life. The patients, the doctors… his future s/o. He noticed them immediately by the sincere passion they had, the strong will and the extreme care they showed to their patient. He was… enhanced by them. He studied their habits and, so, he managed to meet them “casually” when they were out for errands, a bit every day, becoming their acquaintance and, then, friend. After a little, they had their first date and things went better and better.

Illuso always lived in a world that mirrored the reality, manipulating it at his pleasure and advantage. But… he doesn’t like to do it with the person that now is his s/o. They trust him with their life and how he repays them? With lies. He hates it, he hates it so much. Still, he’s scared: his line of work is dangerous and they could end badly, so maybe it’s better to keep them safe and unaware? Or trying and telling them everything? He doesn’t know. He’s battled, he’s full of doubts. In the end, however, he decides to try: they are too important and, if they are together, he wants to be honest with them for one damn time in his life.

And so he calls them, one evening, and settle a meeting. He’s so serious and professional that his s/o seriously fears he’s going to break up with them! But, instead, he tells them a totally different thing. After he has finished, they just sigh, going to sit next to him, revealing too a little secret: they suspected about it since long time. They always saw him in mirrors, crawling behind the corners, his watchful and warm eyes on them. Why do you think they stationed so much around mirrors talking so bluntly about their habits? Illuso is baffled. So do they have a stand too? And really they aren’t bugged by his profession? They just look him in the eyes, serious, caressing his cheeks. Until he’ll be safe, they’ll be happy, they say.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was the only one who met them as an actual patient. Once he broke really badly his arm and it couldn’t be fixed at home, as usual, so he had to be carried to the hospital. He was grumpy and nervous all the time and the only one who seemed to manage to handle him was a patient but strong headed doctor who had no qualms in battling Ghiaccio when he was at his grumpiest state. They managed not to make him escape, as he would have surely done with someone else, to take his medicines and just to give himself time to recover. To everyone’s dismay, when Ghiaccio invited them out, grumpily, before being sent home, they said yes.

After a while, they came out as couple. Things weren’t perfect, but from both parts there was enough will to make things work out. Ghiaccio, despite his namesake, is a passionate man, a man of strong feelings and even stronger reactions; he loves his s/o’s stubbornness, both when they have to deal with him both when they have to save a life. And, about their job… he’s proud of them, of course. He sees how much passion and dedication they put in their work. But… they’re so different… he’s an assassin and they a doctor. He takes life and they save people. Basically they fight on opposite parts, like an angel and a demon. Could a love like this last?

He decides to try it all, revealing them what he does for living. He doesn’t shy away, always looking in their eyes: does he fear rejection? He does. It’s the first time since long, long time that he allows himself to grow so attached to someone, so losing them would be devastating. Still, he shows the bravery and stubbornness that made them fall in love with him and, at their questions, he answers sincerely: no, he doesn’t enjoy killing. Yes, he does it for money. Yes, he’d choose again this road, since it was the only one available, when he found himself alone in the past. No, he’d not quit. He can’t leave his squad. And so his s/o just hugs him, accepting him for who you are, asking him, however, to be careful. Now he doesn’t have to be more reckless just because a doctor lives with him!

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #melone #illuso #ghiaccio #neutral s/o #doctor s/o #headcanons #sfw #anon ask

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roses-ruby · 4 years

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Vote~

Alright my baby sluts, although Diary of a Nyctophiliac and DV 3 are confirmed, I’m having trouble deciding which new story to write next. Here are the top three I want to write, they are all oneshots:

Concubine!Tae

Genre: Smut, Fluff, small Angst, basically PWP

You are the reigning Queen of your queendom, the daughter of your people and the highest ranking general in the history of your nation. Power, strength, determination, respect, honor, these are what make the women in your land.

Women are knights, scholars, artists, high ranking members of your cabinet, everything that is valuable to the world. They have cultivated the land, made the once barren pieces of the earth inhabitable, with rules and laws and bearing children, and governorship. Men, on the other hand, are considered the weaker gender, meant to be protected and sheltered because of their inability to bear children. Expected to stay home and raise the young ones, keep the family’s honor and respect their superior counterparts.

Although you are a mighty woman, strong and tough, you are also in touch with your softer manly side - which is why you can’t help falling for Kim Taehyung. A man who was meant to serve your sexual desires for just one mere night and ended up becoming so much more. But will your people ever accept such a dishonorable man as your consort? Will Kim Taehyung accept that you are a woman with duties, or will he succumb to his manly emotions and want too much? What will happen if you eventually have to choose between your love, Kim Taehyung and your precious Queendom in the end?

Name under construction:

Genre: Feminism (djkdh), angst

Taehyung was your simple, average thief. He was an orphan who had failed school, ended up inside the darkened world of petty gangs and drugs. So now he makes a living the only way he knows how. By stealing from the ones who he really considered to be ‘living.’

He ends up landing a jackpot in the upper suburbs of his small town one night. Finding a house that kept their backdoor shut but unlocked. Of course, he thinks, as he scavenges the manor for what little he’s worth, you can either live rich or live in fear. And while he’s clumsily making his way around this maze, a lamp switches on, exposing the thief.

He was frozen, terrified where he stood in his worn-out off brand sneakers. There he saw you, sitting relaxed in your leather sofa chair. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his miserable eyes upon, quietly still, watching him in your nightwear like a hawk. As scared as he was of you, your beauty, the gun inside your hand, he was even more petrified of the limp body that laid beside your feet. Face bleeding raw, unrecognizable.

“Sit.” You threaten him, to the small stool on his right in front of you. “Sit, and I’ll tell you how I got here, then you tell me how you did. Understood?

And in that moment, as his impoverished life flashed before him, he had no other choice but to oblige.

Megamind!Jin:

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Angst, mentioned Smut, e2l (i hate myself)

The city of Metropolis is quite the bustling, prosperous place. It’s also very quiet minus the fact that a villain in all black spandex likes testing his animal rays on innocent civilians every now and then. He once turned the mayor into a flying goat! Other than animal rays, he also robs the bank, creates traffic, sets robot monkeys loose into downtown with his minions and tries to harness the sun’s power to destroy the earth. You know, typical villain stuff.

It’s up to you, the widely beloved superhero of Metropolis, Metro Girl, to stop him! He’s the villain of your story and you’re the villain of his! And so far, your super awesome magical powers are winning. Although, you’ve always wondered just what’s behind that tight black mask and hideous screechy laughter he always embodies. How can someone just become so evil? Maybe you shouldn’t have wondered that, because one day a freak accident has him crash landing through the roof of your house. Fate decides to test you both as he is now greatly injured and covered in bandages, stuck planted on a wheelchair, completely immobile in your very own house!

Now you always had a good heart, so as much as you despise him, you let him stay until he heals with the plan of throwing him in jail once he does. And turns out, he’s even worse as a handicapped, needy house guest than he is as your powerful, flying, laser-shooting antagonist. But slowly, through the bickering and arguments and mockery, you come to find out, he’s not as bad as you thought. Just lost and lonely. With that newfound knowledge, friendship begins to grow. Friendship that has your heartbeat raising and cheeks blushing.

But, it terrifies you to remember, that once he gets better...he’ll be the same old evil villain again harassing old people and trying to destroy the world. What will you do then? You have a duty to your city, who adores you and you can’t let them down. After all, you’re the hero...and he’s the villain.

Vote here!

#important

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youjustgotzizes · 5 years

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[PARA] Nine Nine One

Who: Lauren @alyricalberry Location: Undique Stadium Time: 16 August 2019 Summary: Lauren and Rachel are SP and they reunite for the first time to train and chat and show their powers and decide their code word uwu Triggers/Notes: Ghosts, dead people

Rachel had no idea what to expect from her training session with Lauren Zizes. She only knew what she'd seen online about the girl. She didn't even really know what her magic was about, what her skills were other than running multiple blogs. But that was also exciting to Rachel. It was nice to have an SP again. Rachel at least hoped that this would work out. She got to Undique first and waited for a bit before she saw Lauren walk in. "Lauren hi!" she said excitedly. "We should probably start by choosing our codeword so we can summon each other. Is there anything you'd think would work well?"

Lauren had a lot of things to do instead of wasting her time on this, but she figured that she could cut it it out fast so in the future it would be the less inconvenient to her. She took her gym clothes on a bag just in case, and Reneesme insisted to come. She glanded at the big transparent octopus hanging on and moving its tentacles. Her homework forced companion greet her. "Hi" she responded back without animosity. "No. Don't call me. Let's do this the bare minimun the school asks for. I don't want to be here more than 1 hour."

Rachel frowned. "Lauren, I get the feeling you don't take this seriously. Being in a socius pactum is a serious thing. We have to be able to count on each and rely on each other. The first part is that we need to be able to summon each other when we need to if one of us is in trouble," she told her. "We don't have to be here long, but we do need to decide on a code word and train a little bit so we can see how our powers interact with each other. Can you do that?"

Lauren nodded. "You know why? Because is not serious. I didn't came here to 'count' on people. If I'm in trouble, I won't call you. I'll call the cardines or 991." She was here to stop a wedding and to met the love of her life. This didn't help in any of that. "That's our code word. 911. My powers don't want to interact with y-" The old man that only she could see started to try to touch Rachel's hair. "D̡̳͔o̹͓̺ ͙̞̩y̱̞̣o̗͓̕u̜̩ ̹w͓a̴͇͖n͔̬̯t̼̪̀ ̬̗̣t͏̹̱e̸̱̩a̛͖̗ ̟͙̀a͟ǹ̩͍d̟̬̀ ͉͙͓c̶̯̲o̰͍̺o͓̖͙k̖̼͝ie̼̟̹s̛̞̩?̰̙̘" He says, but she doubts Rachel would hear anything, except maybe feel a sudden chill. Lauren looked unimpressed.

Rachel was going to snap back at Lauren when a chill suddenly ran over her. She almost felt like something was... touching her hair? But there was nothing there. Rachel took a step to the side to get away from the cold feeling. "Great, 911 is our code word. That's a good start. But we have to be able to fight together too, Lauren. Can't we just try? What kind of magic are you strongest at? I'm best with abjuration."

Lauren glared at the old man, expecting him to explain to her wich one was abjuration. The old man look at her with his empty eyes, not giving any answer. "Why do we have to fight together?" She had her wrestling days, but she could see the girl in front of her wasn't going to wrestle. She was asking about what kind of magic. What kind. Lauren was supposed to be the magic one. "Do you know wrestling?"

Rachel shrugged. "I... well, there's been a lot going on in the world lately, as I'm sure you've noticed. This whole socius thing is to help us better protect each other, I guess?" she told Lauren. "If something bad happens again, we can team up together to protect each other. I think that's why they're making us do this. But to be able to protect each other we have to make our magic work together," she added. "I don't know wrestling, no. But I'm a fast learner, if that's part of your magic?"

"In what world I would call you for help when I can call Cooper Anderson?"Lauren asks. "Not in this one." Lauren noticed a bit of doubt on Rachel's. "You think?" She thinks that's the real motive of doing this, but she doesn't sounds sure. "If something bad happends: run. Call the police. I'm a writer not a bodyguard." The octopus get out of her bag while slowly approaching Rachel. "No. It's just wrestling. I'm a medium." She was frankly not interesed in Rachel's magic. "Look. Let's do this. I invite you to my party at my dorm this saturday, all hot people coming, and you don't bother me more about this."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "The Cardines aren't always there when you need them. Nor are they usually reliable at all," she told her. Rachel was going to give up. Frankly, Lauren kept fighting her on the training question and it didn't seem all that worth it. But, if there was something Rachel Barbra Berry never did, it was give up. She had a flash of an idea and smirked at her socius. "Fine, how about we decide this way: a coinflip. If I win, you train with me. If you win, we don't train." Of course that wouldn't be an issue. Rachel always had luck on her side.

Lauren is offended, but her voice only sounds slighly angrier than before. "Excuse me, did you said the cardines aren't reliable?" Apart from 'Do you even know about Cooper Anderson', did this girl expected a college student was going to be more reliable? She picks up a coin. "Heads, I'll leave without training. Tails, you leave without a fight." She says, throwing the coin the the air.

Rachel raised a brow. “Yes, I did. I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with them to confidently say that,” she said. Rachel bit her lip at Lauren’s bet. She probably thought she was going to win this without training, but Rachel had a trick up her sleeve. “Sounds like a deal,” she said, watching as Lauren threw the coin in the air. She focused her luck magic just on the little coin. She made it so that the coin fell right on its side. It teetered for a second, looking like it was going to fall one way or another. And then, it stayed straight up, not falling on heads or tails. Rachel looked up at Lauren with a smirk. “Looks like we’re having a fight.”

Lauren reflected on her own words and annoyance. Rachel wasn't completelly off. It was true that everytime she called the cardines, asking for the most handsome one to come, they never brought Cooper. That's the exact definition of not being reliable. Now, this girl said she spend a lot of time with the cardines. That picked her interest. "Are you a criminal? Have you ever been arrested by Cooper Anderson?" She wanted to ask what she had to do to be so lucky. She even regretted the win-win coin situation, noe thst she knew Rachel had information, but when she looked down, the coin was on an almost impossible position. "This can't be...it must be fate." Lauren whispers. This was clearly a sign. A sign, showing her the way to her true love Cooper Anderson. And Alyrical Berry was goibg to be her fairy god mother guide. "Looks like it. You can start." She didn't know anything about magic fights and she figures Rachel was going to be her mentor figure on all this.

Rachel frowned. “No, I’m not a criminal. I’ve just... run into the cardines often,” she said. She was sure Lauren would have been angrier about the outcome of the coin flip, so she was shocked when Lauren told her to go ahead. “Okay, then. Let’s do this. We’ll just do warm-ups so we can see how our magic works together,” she said. She summoned her magic circle and started singing the classic <<Don’t Rain on My Parade>>. She figured a small sound bubble would be the best way to start.

@Rachel Barbra Berry Corcoran 🌟🦁: 1d7+1

Rachel attack Lauren + affinity advantage = (2)+1 = 3

t!8ball Can you show her my magic?

| My sources say no, Lauren.

@Lauren 13/13: 1d6 -1

Lauren counter against Rachel's attack = (2) -1 = 1

Lauren insist. "Why?" She wasn't going to let this one go. "Wich Cardines? Anyone in particular?" She knew half of the cardines of New York by name already for how many times she called. They also knew her by name. At first she was a little defensive about Rachel. Lauren knew a bit about her when she searched some information to vote. She knew Rachel had a main character story, and Lauren didn't like that. But she was a mere victim of internal misogyny that pit women against each other. They weren't rivals. Rachel was her to teach Lauren, as her own headcanon told her. Now, she could admit. "I never actually properly fought with my magic. Sometimes I had to fight, but..." She shrug. Probably her ways weren't the ways Rachel expected. Ghosts weren't reliable as her fists. Alyrical started singing, and the wave of sound hit Lauren. The noise give her a headache like no sound made by the living ever made her feel. "That hurts!" She complains. "Are you one of those strict abusive teachers that show their cruel methods were actually good in the end?" She deadpan asks. Then she tries to show her powers. She looks at the old man she can only see. "Can you show her my magic?" She asks, empowering the old man. He smiles, but he doesn't do anything else. The rascal probably planned to keep this energy to do whatever other thing he wanted to do. "He says no."

Rachel shook her head. "No, no, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I just thought you'd defend yourself. I'm sorry," she said. "Who says no?" she asked with a frown. "You said you're a medium. How does that work, exactly?" she asked.

Lauren noticed how Rachel tried to dodge the cardine question. "You're trying to dodge the cardine question. Do you work with them? Have you meet Cooper Anderson?" Lauren looked at her bag, trying to find some pills for headache pain. "Do you assume people can defend themselves of sound? Then sound pollution won't be a problem. Duh" She sees the octopus in the ground, poking her with its tentacles. "(Ask more clearly.)" The voice of Reneesme tells her. Another voice only she can hear. Lauren tries again. "I talk with the earthbound spirits. Can you show Rachel who you are and what you want?" She casts again, her magic circle pointing at the letters forming the question.

t!8ball Can you show Rachel who you are and what you want?

| Don't count on it, Lauren.

/r 1d6 -1 +1 #Attack to Rachel with +1 for familiar

@Lauren 13/13🐙2🎲+2:

1d6 -1 +1

Attack to Rachel with +1 for familiar = (1) -1 +1 = 1

Rachel frowned. “I... I don’t work with the Cardines. I’ve met Cooper a couple times in class, but that’s it. Why are you so interested?” She asked. “There are ways to defend yoursef from sound attacks, trust me. I can show you once I know what your powers are,” she told her. She watched as Lauren cast her spell and had her magic circle waiting to counterattack, should anything happen. She waited and watched, her head tilting when nothing happened. “Are the spirits supposed to materialize?” She asked.

Lauren knew Rachel was hiding something. Maybe something that would need to be revealed on later chapters of her life. But still, she was impatient. "You said you encountered the Cardines a lot. And that they aren't capable. Where did you met them? You never met Cooper working as one? We're just destinied to be together." She casually mentions. The dead was always bothering her, except when she actually wanted them to do something. "They don't materialize. They act. But they do whatever they want to do. It's like trying to tell children to listen." She looks at the old smiling man. "I don't need you. I can get better. But you can't." She says, taking her phone to record the sound around. She points at Rachel's feet, as his beloved would do."This place is haunted." She informs, and her magic circle shines. The spot where Rachel is cursed now, as it attracts spirits. She can see other spirits aproaching them. Most of them young adults, but the old man gets closer. They aproach where Rachel is. There are 5 of them now. She wouldn't be able to notice anything, but she won't feel safe there.

“Yes, well, a lot of weird stuff has happened in my three years at NYADA. The Cardines interfered. Like every time the doors attacked us, all the Saltus disasters. The Cardines have gotten involved every time. That’s all I meant,” Rachel told Lauren. She watched as Lauren cast her spell. She looked around, trying to see what would happen. All she could feel was an uneasy feeling encroach on her. It was like someone had poured cold water down her back, but so much worse. She activated her shield to try to protect herself. She knew it was the spirits, even if she couldn’t see them. The feeling she bad was still horrible. Hopefully the shield would help./r 1d7+1-1 #counterattack to Lauren

@Rachel Barbra Berry Corcoran 🌟🦁:

1d7+1-1

counterattack to Lauren = (5)+1-1 = 5

Lauren wonders why Rachel talks as she knows what she's talking about. Is just like when she talks with the spirits. Everyone of them is cryptic and is like they expect her to do all the work of understanding what they mean. She is not for it. "Are you always this non-explicative? Did Cooper got involved?" She didn't really care about anything else. "Now, Can anyone of you show this girl the proof of your existence?" She asks the ghosts.

@|Lauren 13/13🐙2🎲+2:

1d6 -1

= (2) -1 = 1

t!8ball Can anyone of you show this girl the proof of your existence?

| Don't count on it, Lauren.

“Yes, he was involved, I guess? Why are you so interested in Cooper?” Rachel asked, looking around her as the sense of unease grew. “We need to focus on our magic. Cooper and the Cardines don’t matter,” she said, clearing her throat. She was still maintaining her shield, but it was becoming difficult. She could feel herself trembling, goosebumps forming on her arms. She sent out a blast from her shield, hoping it would... stop the spirits? She didn’t even know what she was trying to do, she was just gripped with fear.

@Rachel Barbra Berry Corcoran 🌟🦁:

1d7+1-2

a real counterattack this time lol = (5)+1-2 = 4

Lauren is really dissapointed in everyone wasting her time asking question that can be solved glancing at her blog for one second. "I told you. We're fated to be together. You are witnessing a story of True Love." She slightly smiles for once. But her expressionless face quickly returns. "I don't care about our anything. I'm here for Cooper. And you are going to be my ally." She informs Rachel. She recieved another wave of noise and pain. "Agh. You still haven't told me how to defend myself of these things." She can't really hold out much longer. "Can anyone shut her up?" She casts, touching her forehead with one hand.

@|Lauren 13/13🐙2🎲+2:

1d6 -1

It can't fucking be another bad roll ok = (5) -1 = 4

t!8ball Can anyone shut her up?

| Yes, Lauren.

One of the ghosts puts her hand over Rachel's mouth, and firmly grasp it.Ooc. You cant see it but u can sense it!!

Rachel didn't even know what Lauren was talking about anymore. She could barely concentrate as the sense of dread grew to an almost unbearable level. And then she felt something grasp her mouth. She screamed—or at least tried to. She dropped her shield, unable to maintain it anymore. She stepped forward, trying to get away from the spirit. She flailed her arms at Lauren, hopefully communicating clearly that she wanted her to call off the spirit.

Lauren takes Reneesme to put it on the bag. "Finally they do something. She's saying she doesn't like the noise you make." She tells Rachel. "I don't control them. They're free spirits." But the power to affect the living should wear off on that girl what was shutting Rachel's mouth. Lauren magic worked on the tiny space, or in the old man, but the one acting didn't have the energy Lauren gave the spirits. Lauren liked her, and she talk with her later. Discover her name and her goals. "I'm done with this. We had our fight. Don't summon me. I'll summon you if I need you. If you want training, it will be you teaching me. I'm a first year and you are at your third. Bring hot people to the party. Bye." She says, leaving the place haunted. It will vanish someday. Or not. She'll move it away if she needs to.

#alyricalberry #nimtraining #para: rachel #chara: rachel #chapter 3

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entireconfection · 4 years

Text

Can We Turn It Around?

Hard to believe it’s been four years, isn’t it?

As I sit down to write this, 5 weeks out from the 2020 election, it’s hard to know where to start. For almost four years now, we’ve been living in an altered (and very shitty) state of reality. Donald Trump’s America. A never-ending dumpster fire. And, to be frank, one of the worst chapters in our country’s history. On top of that, we’ve just crossed the half-year mark of a global pandemic, an ongoing crisis by turns devastating and surreal, one that seems sadly befitting of our dystopian, is-this-really-happening times.

After 4 agonizing years of hate and stupidity ruling the roost, of nonstop assaults on science and decency and civility, of the obliteration of democratic norms, destruction of the checks and balances that we naively assumed would always be there for us, we’ve almost arrived at another election. And with it, the possibility that we can start to turn this around. That we can rise up and say “NO. We DON’T want a dictatorship. We WON’T go along with this. We will FIGHT for love and decency and our democracy.”

Personally, I am proceeding under the assumption that Trump will be reelected. I have to do so for my own wellbeing. I don’t want to get my hopes up. The bitter, blindsiding defeat of 2016 is still fresh in my mind. There are many ways that this election could turn into a shitshow. Not the least of which is we have a ruthless dictator as President who is doing everything he can to sabotage the vote. And he has a powerful ally in the Republican party, which has expertly suppressed the vote for decades and is doing so now with as much gusto as ever, determined to hold onto power at all costs. Throw in all of the logistical challenges and obstacles caused by COVID, along with all of the flaws of our antiquated, broken-by-design voting system (courtesy of the democracy-hating GOP), and no one really knows what the hell is going to happen on November 3.

So I have to assume that Trump will win. Because, awful as that will be, life will go on if he wins. And I need to be able to carry on as well.

Still, as accustomed as I’ve become to the insanity of the Trump era, it’s sometimes hard to grasp that it’s come to this. That we are perilously close to becoming an authoritarian country with a permanent conservative majority. That it pretty much all hangs on this election.

It’s not just our country either. It’s our planet that’s on the line. Perhaps you’ve heard of climate change? You know, that little issue that Americans don’t give a shit about, but is an existential threat to human civilization? Well, it’s only getting worse. The Northern Hemisphere just had its hottest summer ever, 2 degrees above normal. You can expect a new record every year for your lifetime.

Trump, as expected, has been a disaster for the climate – withdrawing from the Paris Accord, gutting environmental regulations left and right, and basically doing as much damage to the earth as possible. Given that experts say we have 10 years to make major cuts in emissions if we have any hope of avoiding irreversible and catastrophic climate disruption, it’s safe to say that a second Trump term would pretty much be game over for the climate, and for life as we know it. It’s the predictable outcome when you elect an idiot climate denier president of the most powerful country in the world.

Then there’s the fate of democracy itself, which is in a perilous position around the world. Fascism masquerading as “right-wing parties” has been on the march across Europe for years. Trump has gleefully helped that effort, cozying up to ruthless dictators like Kim-Jong Il and giving his buddy Putin the green light to continue to ratfuck elections, sow chaos, and wage cyber warfare on any country he chooses.

Meanwhile, Trump has given the middle finger to our allies constantly since taking office. Again, completely to be expected from a jingoistic simpleton whose entire understanding of foreign policy boils down to “America First.” Remember his shit-eating smirk while refusing to shake Angela Merkel’s hand in the Oval Office? Trump exemplifies the right’s foaming-mouth hatred of Europe, foreigners, and diplomacy. Just one of their many flavors of bigotry, he and his base believe that the rest of the world basically consists of international elitists determined to destroy America. Not exactly a philosophy conducive to preventing trifling matters like, say, global pandemics or world wars.

The more I write, the more I remember when an absolute sleazebag our president is, and the more astonished I am that this man is our president. This is the guy who 60 million people voted for in 2016. This is the guy who is nothing less than a savior to millions and millions of white Americans. Donald fucking Trump? You would be hard-pressed to find a more loathsome person in all of America. And despite knowing full well how polarized and tribalized we have become, it’s still hard to fathom that so many Americans can look at this vile, morally bankrupt con man and see a great leader, a champion of their values, the greatest president of all time. It just doesn’t compute.

And yes, many of his voters are well aware of his vices, and yes, white working-class voters have legitimate problems, and on and on. For four years, we’ve discussed and dissected these reasons for Trump’s victory. They are admitted and entered into the record. Now can we please get rid of this menace because he destroys our democracy, wiping out the great experiment that has endured for 244 years?

Because that’s what’s really on the line on November 3. We’re all deciding if we want to go back to being a democracy – a flawed, messy, imperfect democracy to be sure, but still a democracy at heart – or a dictatorship. That’s not hyperbole. That’s just the situation.

Trump, aided and abetted by the entire Republican apparatus and 40% of the population, has turned us into a dictatorship. He has put his cronies in positions of power. He has fired anyone who refuses to become his unquestioning flunky, smearing public servants who have spent decades working to help people – a concept completely alien to Trump. He has demonized the media (except for the propaganda outlets who run only pro-Trump news), relentlessly undermining one of the pillars of a liberal democracy, turning people against the very journalists who are trying to expose how Trump is screwing them over. He has conspired with our enemies to compromise our own elections. He came to power by colluding with Russia to his political opponent. He tear-gassed peaceful protestors in front of the White House and painted Black Lives Matter as radical terrorists and applauded right-wing vigilantes who pointed guns at BLM protestors. Hell, he gave them a plum speaking slot at the RNC. Because that’s who calls the shots in Donald Trump’s America – racists and white supremacists.

So, yeah…it’s a rubbish time. And as anyone who remembers the train wreck of Election Night 2016 can understand, I don’t want to get my hopes up. We’ve all been burned one too many times.

Still, it is nice – if only for a moment – to think about a President Biden.

A president who acts like a fucking adult, not a tantrum-throwing toddler or a schoolyard bully.

A president who condemns violence, not one who exploits and encourages it for political gain.

A president who speaks carefully and thoughtfully, knowing his words have real-life consequences. Not one who constantly spews venom and lies, not caring if people die as a result because they’re not his base so screw them.

A president who refuses to legitimize dangerous conspiracy theories. Not one who gleefully seizes on every twisted fairy-tale to emerge from alt-right trolls lurking on 4chan.

A president who accepts the simple fact that our world is interconnected and that diplomacy, respect, and civil discourse are our best tools for making life better for everyone. Not one who embraces the right’s phony-ass “patriotism” and thinks Americans – more specifically, his supporters – are the only people on Earth who matter.

A president who does his fucking job, not one who sits on his ass tweeting and watching Fox News to get his daily ass-kissing. When he’s not golfing or holding white supremacist rallies, that is.

Trump’s awfulness is simply unparalleled, probably in human history. It is an expansive mass so vast and blatant and unashamed that it’s almost a work of art, in a sick way. You could go on forever about the cringe, the iconic moments of incompetence, the garish displays of smirking idiocy and unabashed bigotry that have come to define our time. Sharpie-doctored hurricane maps, Kanye in the Oval Office, calling African countries “shitholes,” telling black and Latina Congresswomen to “go back where they came from,” toilet paper on the shoe, shoving a world leader on stage, soundproof phone booths at the EPA, white supremacists as “very fine people,” caravans, paper towels, upside-down Bibles, covfefe…it has just been a constant, dizzying tornado of hate and evil and stupid. It’s why I stopped watching the news. It’s too much. We weren’t wired to ingest this level of crazy and awful every day. Being a human being is hard enough as it is.

It’s hard to stomach the thought of one more day of this shit, let alone 4 years. Should Trump get reelected, it’s hard to see how anything good will survive. And should his victory come once again come via dirty tricks, be it foreign interference or voter suppression or both, it would appear to confirm that our system has been so hopelessly corrupted by the right that it’s impossible for a Democrat to win. It would suggest that it is now impossible to have a fair presidential election and we’re doomed to have permanent tyrannical rule by a racist, reactionary, science-hating, authoritarian minority. Where we go from there is anyone’s guess.

I hope we can turn it around. I hope there are enough decent people out there who are fed up with this asshole. I hope the myriad GOTV efforts we’ve seen in recent months will motivate people who sat out last time, and maybe some people who have never voted. I hope the collective determination of people who are against Trump is enough to overcome the GOP’s perennial cheating and voter-suppression campaigns. I hope, no matter the outcome, that the whole thing doesn’t devolve into an epic shitshow that makes Florida 2000 look like a calm and orderly affair.

So I have hope. Is it well-founded? Is it anything more than wishful thinking? Hard to say. But when all appears lost, that’s what we have. Hope.

In closing, if you are dismayed by what America has become these past 4 years, if you want to save the democracy that so many people fought and died for throughout our history, please vote for Biden. Your kids, your grandkids, and the entire world will thank you.

#election #politics #biden #democracy

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olympus-summit · 4 years

Text

Popularity Contest || Chapter 3 Election

Once again, you are summoned up to the water park. Why were you guys meeting here again? It seemed kind of odd. Wasn’t the Hall of the Ancients the best place for meetings? There weren’t even any really good places for you to sit… But it looked like you were being summoned into the river again… Well, everyone except for one person…

The President himself stands off to the side of the river, perfectly dry and dressed as prim as ever. Approaching the Fates and Charon, he clears his throat. Guess he may as well just get it over with. “We’ve chosen our motive,” he announces, as if that wasn’t already obvious. But the Fates seemed to want to make a show of this, given that they could already see the votes in the group chat. It’s not like Hangyu would defect from the idea he’d supported, right?

But before he can say which motive had the most votes and hopefully leave the water park anew, one of the Fates cuts him off.

“Wow, look at that ego,” Clotho scoffs. “What? Now that you’re President, you’re too good to get in the water with everyone else? You have to stand above everyone else? You really gonna trust this guy with your fate?”

Hangyu pauses and raises a brow at her for a moment before his arms cross. “Clotho, you know exactly why I won’t get in the water,” he says. “I’d be standing here even if I wasn’t president, too.”

“And why is that again?” The youngest of the Fates huffs.

The one who answers isn’t Hangyu but Atropos herself, who cuts off her sister with a stern look. “It’s because of his legs, dear sister. The information was in his file. Now leave the poor man be, and allow him the opportunity to choose his motive.”

Well… That was something. Unfortunately for poor Hangyu, he still had to be the center of attention as the group approached the four big bouncy balls along the river. It was time to decide which of the motives you were going with. Not that it was really a surprise to anyone, but… You know…

Hangyu grimaces from the side of the river, silent for a moment and posture no longer quite as comfortable as before. He doesn’t thank the eldest Fate for answering for him, instead keeping his arms crossed and motioning to Lachesis with a subtle head movement. “... We’re choosing Lachesis’ Motive,” he says, plain and simple. There’s little reason to say anything more so, looking back to Atropos, he waits for her to deliver their fate, steeling himself back to a more steady calm.

“Hm… a fair choice, even if you may come to regret it in time. Very well. Let us go over what, or rather who, you did not pick.”

Clotho looks annoyed as she begins to speak. “You’re all fucking assholes for not even considering my motive.” It’s called being smart, Clotho. “But fine, I guess I get it. My motive was themed around power. I called it Survival of the Fittest. Basically every day I was gonna have two of you beat the shit out of each other until we have a winner. You could pretty much think of it as a battle tournament. You would’ve had to keep fighting until the ultimate loser was decided...and that’s it. I would’ve loved to see you all fight, but I’ll have other chances. But you know... I still don’t think my motive is as bad as one of the others…”

“I personally believed in a more… Gentle approach.” That’s a blatant lie. Atropos twirls a strand of her wet hair around a finger, humming softly. “My motive was themed around knowledge, and it was called In Search Of Truth. If you managed a kill and got away with it, I would answer any one question of yours honestly, as long as it was not the question that we had posed towards you all earlier. I even would have hooked myself up to a lie detector.”

The last to speak isn’t Lachesis, but instead the other blonde host, who swings his legs up on the announcer’s booth. “Y’know, because I was so sure that nobody in their right minds were going to pick me, not even if I won the majority vote somehow, I picked the theme of desire: you would’ve had to face Forbidden Temptations.” Charon grins. “Most things in the world can be bought with the right amount of money or connections, but some things don’t have a price that can be put to them. It could be benign, like wishing your brother out of death row, or a lot more harmful, like perhaps the humiliation and complete discreditation of a mentor you once thought had your best interests in mind. We could’ve done that, but it’s not to be.”

And when the three banners had completely fallen, all that was left was:

Lachesis’ Motive

#os plot #chapter 3 #hangyu #atropos #lachesis #clotho #charon

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