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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months

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Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #hiro watanabe #kim hong jin #simon riley x reader

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plounce · 3 months

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researching stuff for a post about misinformation regarding girl scout cookies and man this article (10/28/23) about this palestinian-american girl scout nearly made me burst into tears

In her short 17 years on earth, Amira Ismail had never been called a baby killer.

That’s what happened one Friday this month, Amira said, on New York City’s Q58 bus, which runs through central Queens.

“This lady looked at me, and she was like: ‘You’re disgusting. You’re a baby killer. You’re an antisemite,’” Amira told me. When she talked about this incident, her signature spunk faded. “I just kept saying, ‘That’s not true,’” she said. “I was just on my way to school. I was just wearing my hijab.”

Amira was born in Queens in the years after the Sept. 11 attacks. She remembers participating as a child in demonstrations at City Hall as part of a successful movement to make Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha school holidays in New York City.

But since the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas, in which an estimated 1,400 Israelis were killed and some 200 others were kidnapped, Amira, who is Palestinian American, said she has experienced for the first time the full fury of Islamophobia and racism that her older relatives and friends have told stories about all her life. Throughout the city, in fact, there has been an increase in both anti-Muslim and antisemitic attacks.

In heavily Muslim parts of Queens, she said, police officers are suddenly everywhere, asking for identification and stopping and frisking Muslim men. (New York City has stepped up its police presence around both Muslim and Jewish neighborhoods and sites within the five boroughs.) Most painful though, she said, is the sense that she and her peers are getting that Palestinian lives do not matter, as they watch the United States staunchly back Israel as it heads into war.

“It can’t go unrecognized, the thousands of Palestinians that have been murdered in the past two weeks and even more the past 75 years,” Amira said. “There’s no way you can erase that.” That does not mean she is antisemitic, she said. “How can I denounce one system of oppression without denouncing another?” she asked me. The pain in her usually buoyant voice cut through me. I had no answer for her.

Many New York City kids have a worldliness about them, a certain telltale moxie. Amira, a joyful, sneaker-wearing, self-described “Queens kid,” can seem unstoppable.

When she was just 15, Amira helped topple a major mayoral campaign in America’s largest city, writing a letter accusing the ultraprogressive candidate Dianne Morales of having violated child labor laws while purporting to champion the working class in New York.

“My life and my extremely bright future as a 15-year-old activist will not be defined by the failures and harm enabled by Dianne Morales,” Amira wrote in the 2021 letter, which went viral and helped end Ms. Morales’s campaign. “I wrote my college essay about that,” Amira told me with a slightly mischievous smile.

In the past two years, Amira has become a veteran organizer. Last weekend, she joined an antiwar protest. First, though, she’ll have to work on earning her latest Girl Scout badge, this one for photography. That will mean satisfying her mother, Abier Rayan, who happens to be Troop 4179’s leader. “She’s tough,” Amira assured me.

At a meeting of the Muslim Girl Scouts of Astoria last week, a young woman bounded into the room, asking whether her fellow scouts had secured tickets to an Olivia Rodrigo concert. “She’s the Taylor Swift of our generation,” the scout turned to me to explain.

A group of younger girls recited the Girl Scout Law:

“I will do my best to be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong, and responsible for what I say and do, and to respect myself and others, respect authority, use resources wisely, make the world a better place and be a sister to every Girl Scout.”

Amira’s mother carefully inspected the work of some of the younger scouts; she wore a blue Girl Scouts U.S.A. vest, filled with colorful badges, and a hot-pink hijab. “It’s no conflict at all,” Ms. Rayan told me of Islam and the Girl Scouts. “You want a strong Muslim American girl.”

At the Girl Scouts meeting, Amira and her friends discussed their plans to protest the war in Gaza. “Protests are where you let go of your anger,” Amira told me.

Amira’s mother was born in Egypt. In 1948, Ms. Rayan told me, her grandfather lost his home and land in Jaffa to the state of Israel. At the Girl Scout meeting, Ms. Rayan was still waiting for word that relatives in Gaza were safe.

“There’s been no communication,” she said. When I asked about Amira, Ms. Rayan’s eyes brightened. “I’m really proud of her,” she said. “You have to be strong. You don’t know where you’re going to be tomorrow.”

By Monday, word had reached Ms. Rayan that her relatives had been killed as Israel bombed Gaza City. When I asked whom she had lost, Ms. Rayan replied: “All of them. There’s no one left.” Thousands of Palestinians are estimated to have been killed by Israeli airstrikes in Gaza in recent weeks. ... Ms. Rayan said those killed in her family included six cousins and their children, who were as young as 2. Other relatives living abroad told her the cousins died beneath the rubble of their home.

As Ms. Rayan spoke, I saw Amira’s young face. I wondered how long this bright, spirited Queens kid could keep her fire for what I believe John Lewis would have called “good trouble” in a world that seems hellbent on snuffing it out. I worried about how she would finish her college applications.

“I have a lot of angry emotions at the ones in charge,” Amira told me days ago, speaking for so many human beings around the world in this dark time.

I thought about what I had seen over that weekend in Brooklyn, where thousands gathered in the Bay Ridge neighborhood, the home of many Arab Americans, to protest the war. In this part of the city, people of many backgrounds carried Palestinian flags through the street. Large groups of police officers gathered on every corner, watching them go by.

The crowd was large but quiet when Amira waded in, picked up her megaphone and called for Palestinian liberation. In an instant, thousands of New Yorkers repeated after her, filling the Brooklyn street with their voices. My prayer is that Amira’s generation of leaders will leave a better world than the one it has been given.

i believe she recently got her gold award (which, if youve never been in girl scouts, is really difficult - way more difficult than eagle scout awards), or is almost done with it. i hope she's doing okay.

this article (no paywall) about muslim and palestinian girl scout troops in socal also almost made me cry (it's like 2am). i really really hope all these kids are doing alright. god. they and their families all deserve so much better

#chirps

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inky-duchess · 4 months

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Fantasy Guide to Royal Guards

Royals have multiple layers of servants but there is no set of servants most important that their protection. Royalty are never without some kind of protection and palaces are usually guarded to the teeth. So how do we write royal security. This is for @jamie-ties-writing

Recruitment

Royal guards aren't just any person plucked from the street and put into a uniform. They are usually recruited from within the royal army, from within particular regiments across the army (a mixture of calvary, naval, artillery, infantry). The Royal Guard is usually made of of multiple regiments, not just a single one. These regiments would share and rotate duties. The British Royal family are currently guarded by the Coldstream Regiment, Welsh Guards, Grenadier Guards among others. Royal guards will be selected for their skill, sometimes their birth (they may be chosen if they rank higher socially) and of course, loyalty to the Crown. Royal guards were intended to be a show of force, strength, Majesty so they were usually impressive specimens meant to instill some power to their monarch.

Duties

A royal guard's first order of business is the protection of the family. They may have sentry duty around the palace, guarding doors or patrolling palace grounds or corridors. A Royal Guard may be assigned to one member only but most likely they will rotate through the family as needed. Of course, a royal can request a guard to always be assigned to them if they want. They may escort their charge of the day to their engagements. If assigned a certain royal to protect, they would tail them throughout the day. A royal guard may even perform ceremonial duties such as the changing of the guard or riding in coronations or state funerals. A royal guard is expected to remain vigilant but never speak of what they see, they are meant to keep an ear out for threats but never repeat whatever is said, they are expected at all times to uphold a professional countenance and respect protocol. They will be expected to give their lives if needed, and be loyal to the last.

Rank

Royal guards are a military division and rank is a part of their lives. Their supreme commander would he the monarch first but there would be an appointed commander. Depending on how you want to write Royal Guards, each regiment would have it's own captain and leaders. Of course, not all regiments may adhere to the same ranks but this would be a basic outline for you to follow.

Colonel: Colonels actually have no duties, they are more an honourary figurehead. Many members of the royal family would have a regiment to be colonel of. This usually requires nothing more than a ceremonial role, the wearing of the uniform while inspecting the troops for example.

Captain: The Commander of the regiment. They would undertake managerial duties, issuing commands from the monarch, assigning duties, approving the induction of new guards into the Household Division. The Captain would decide who would guard which member of the royal family.

Lieutenant: The Second in command. They will assume command if the Captain is not available. They would take on a large portion of duties and aid the Captain.

Sergeant: The sergeant would be next in command.

Guardsman: The lowest rank. They will have the least experience but usually the most duties. They would be the ones patrolling and standing sentry.

Uniform

Of course, no royal guard is complete without their uniform. Royal guards would have to stand out, especially in ceremonial duties. This uniform would be distinctive, not only because it is a great honour for anybody to be named to the guard but also as mentioned above, to add a layer of might to those they protect.

Notable Royal Guard Units

Dahomey Mino (the inspiration of Black Panther's Dora Milaje)

The Praetorian Guard

The Imperial Guard of Napoleon

The Imperial German Bodyguard

Varangian Guard

Swiss Guards

The Kheshig

The Janissary

The Imperial Guards of Tsarist Russia

The Cossack Guard

Guardia Real

Coldstream Guards

Irish Guards

Welsh Guards

Grenadier Guards

Medjay of Ancient Egypt

Al-Ḥars al-Malakī as-Suʿūdī

Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince

Thahan Raksa Phra Ong

#Fantasy Guide to Royal guards #Royal guards #Royals #Royalty guide #Fantasy Guide #Writing reference #Writing resources #Writing advice #Writing resources writing reference #writing #writeblr #writing resources #writing reference #writing advice #writer #ask answered questions #spilled words #ask answered #writers

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years

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“Patterson C.I. Boys Win Praise From Inspecting Officer,” Windsor Star. May 12, 1942. Page 5. ---- MAJOR W. L. AITKEN, cadet inspecting officer for Military District No. 1, praised Patterson Collegiate cadets for their precision and steadiness on parade, following their annual inspection in the Windsor Armories today. Major Aitken is shown at the right during the inspection. Cadet-Colonel Harold Coombs, officer commanding the corps, is at the left.

#windsor #military district #troop inspection #cadets #cadet squadron #cadet corps #high school students #high school #collegiate institute #canadian military #black canadians #canada during world war 2

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rejectedfables · 1 year

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Fandom and also Chinese history questions:

1) Does anybody know why, when actual tiger tallies looked like, you know, actual tigers:

why the mdzs manhua and donghua aesthetic design of the yin tiger tally looks like this:

2) Everything I’ve read about tiger tallies says that they were used to prove that a general had the authority to command their troops (because the general had one side of the tally and the emperor had the other, using both together meant you had approval). But absolutely no source I’ve found explains HOW they’re literally, actually, physically used. Were they just... put together and held aloft so everybody could SEE them? Is it a stamp? Was somebody else’s job to inspect and validate that the two halves were both real and present, and they’d cosign whatever orders were given? I’m desperately curious

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #history question #chinese history question #mdzs question #tiger tally

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gothhabiba · 6 months

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From the Palestinian Red Crescent's twitter, 13 November 2023:

🔴 Al-Quds Hospital still under intense gunfire.

🔴 The IDF claims to be attacking a "Hamas terrorist" who is firing a rocket-propelled grenade launcher from Al-Quds.

🔴 The main power generator at Al-Amal Hospital stopped working. The hospital is currently relying on a very small generator to supply electricity only to the maternity ward and emergency lighting. Remaining fuel is expected to run out within the next 24 hours.

11:01 AM:

"🚨 The vicinity of Al-Quds Hospital 🏥 is still witnessing intense gunfire, with the presence of Israeli military vehicles. Our staff are trapped with patients and the wounded, without electricity, water, or food. We hope for their safety. 🙏"

1:10 PM, in response to this tweet from @IDF:

[ID: Tweet by Israel Defense Forces (@IDF) at 3:22pm on November 13 reading: "What could these Hamas terrorists possibly be doing with an RPG at the Quds Hospital?" Attached is a 20-second drone video of the hospital with overlaid text reading "Enemy fire from the entrance of the 'Al-Quds' Hospital towards IDF troops: terrorist with RPG launcher."

The PRCS issued a statement reading:

🚨 The Palestine RCS strongly condemns the false claims by the occupying forces about armed individuals launching projectiles from inside Al-Quds Hospital. The PRCS sees these claims as a blatant attempt to incite further targeting and besieging of the hospital, constituting a clear violation of international humanitarian law. ❌ PRCS rejects these baseless allegations, as the published video clearly shows that the armed individuals approached from the street while the occupation tanks were stationed in front of and shielded by the hospital, endangering the lives of medical teams and patients. The PRCS confirms that there are no armed individuals inside the hospital, and no shots have been fired from within. Everyone within the hospital are patients, their families, and the medical staff. 📣 PRCS calls on the international community to intervene immediately to protect its teams besieged inside the hospital, facing imminent danger with each passing moment.

4:22 PM:

"🛑 Today's attempt to evacuate Al-Quds Hospital failed after the IOF decided to return the designated evacuation convoy to the association's branch in Khan Younis, despite receiving prior approval.

"🚨 The decision was rationalized by referring to a security incident in the vicinity, despite the convoy undergoing thorough inspection. It is noteworthy that yesterday, displaced individuals were allowed to exit through a route specified by the occupation forces, under specific and challenging conditions.

"🧑‍⚕ Our medical teams, patients,and the wounded, along with their companions, remain trapped inside the hospital without food, water, or electricity, and their is 300 person."

4:49 PM:

"🚨 ⚠️ Today, the sole power generator at Al-Amal Hospital, affiliated with the PRCS in Khan Younis, stopped working. This threatens the lives of 90 patients receiving treatment, including 25 in the medical rehabilitation section who now face the risk of death at any moment. Additionally, around 9,000 displaced individuals have sought refuge in the PRCS premises and the hospital.

" 🏥 The hospital is currently relying on a very small generator to supply electricity only to the maternity ward and emergency lighting. It's important to note that the remaining fuel is expected to run out within the next 24 hours.

"🛑 The power generator's failure is impacting the operations of both the PRCS headquarters and Al-Amal Hospital, which includes the emergency operations room for the Gaza Strip. This has resulted in a loss of communication with the operation rooms scattered across the Gaza sector and the cessation of VHF communication services."

#Palestine #Gaza #PRCS #al quds hospital #al amal hospital

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partycatty · 3 months

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i want to give old man mk11 johnny little kisses all over his face with lipstick on and leave little kissy marks that he doesn’t know are there so when he goes out everyone sees them but he doesn’t.

i love ya 💙💙

hehehe

older!johnny cage > peppered

johnny didn't know your makeup wasn't smudge proof when he went off to work.

[ masterlist ]

• "i'm headin' out!" johnny calls from the foyer, grabbing a bag and keys from the hook beside the door. "don't miss me too much, alright?!"

• "wait!!" you sprint down the steps, the biggest grin on your face. you were wearing your usual face of makeup, bright red lipstick included. johnny returns your grin, beaming down at you when you charge yourself at him and wrap your arms around his neck. "i love you."

• johnny chuckles, eyes flicking between yours. "i love you more." his voice is gentle, honest. it was always nice to see his domestic side when he wasn't kicking ass or talking about how amazing he was.

• you kiss him, smushing your face against his in a strange competition to see how hard you could kiss him before he'd complain. your noses squish together and you can hear johnny giggle into your lips. when you pull away, your smile only grows when you notice there is a firm print of your lipstick on his mouth.

• "what's that look for?" he asks, noticing your staring. you decide to take advantage of his lack of knowledge, leaning in for another kiss on the side of his mouth. he smirks, nose scrunching at your contact which only makes you kiss him more.

• "i love you-" you plant a kiss on his cheek. "i love you-" one on his eyelid. "i love you-" one on his jaw. after some time of this, you've thoroughly peppered his face with lipstick marks, one in each section of his face and even a couple on his neck. you made art of his skin, and he was none the wiser.

• "okay, okay—" johnny laughs, pulling you away by your shoulders and kissing your forehead. "i'll be late if you keep loving on me like that." you manage to squeeze in one last kiss before he heads to work.

• when johnny arrives on the compound, he's greeted by an amusing amount of stares - which isn't unusual, considering he's a part-time movie star, but this time he felt more like a clown than an action hero.

• he stumbles into jacqui before the meeting, and she tenses up, at first raising a finger to inform him of his new face paint but opting not to — maybe cassie would be better to bear the news?

• arriving in front of the SF army, he notices that his daughter is already commanding the troop, standing front and center. johnny slinks in casually, so as to not disturb the routine.

• the sunglasses come off, and he notices that the crowd falls eerily silent, some even biting their lips to stop a smile. cassie takes notice and pivots to include herself on what seems to be so funny.

• "commander cage," johnny says with a nod, scanning the crowd nervously. "is... is everything...?"

• cassie bursts into laughter, doubling over and completely breaking from her professional stoicism. johnny can only throw his hands up exasperatedly.

• "seriously, what the hell is going on? people keep looking at me like i'm crazy." johnny pinches the bridge of his nose as cassie finds her handheld pocket mirror, one that he gave her many years ago.

• taking the mirror, he opens it and inspects his shirt, wondering if maybe he spilled his coffee. but when he catches a glimpse of his neck, he notices two reddish smudge marks. slowly angling the mirror upward, he realizes what's so god damn funny.

• he flushes red. sure, everyone knew you two were dating, but this was the least professional thing he'd done in a while — which is really saying something.

• "jesus, dad, you couldn't have washed them off before coming to work?" cassie asks, still cracking a smile. "reader's nice, but i didn't need to know how nice she is to you. oh my god, it's everywhere—"

• "i didn't know i had 'em," johnny mutters, wiping his face embarrassingly.

• you were in for one hell of a phone call when his break rolls around.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11 #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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honestlyhiswife · 6 months

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Could you do the COD boys hcs about them being subtly protective of you? Like in ways that no one would really notice unless they were in the military? Like a hand behind your back of them standing in a position where if they needed to they could easily protect you?

i've been itching to write this so AH!! thank you for giving me the perfect opportunity to write it <3 - if there's poor grammar or typos look away 🫣 and - i got carried away and it became 696 words MY BAD ENJOY IT THOUGH

Protective!Ghost

Ghost would be the type to make sure you're constantly prepared. You call it "acts of service" he calls it "ensuring his teammates are safe". Whatever that means cause you've never seen him treat Soap or Gaz the same.

Tough operations mean tough terrains.

Your rifle and pistol were completely tarnished in mud and naturally, that meant that they were fucked. Luckily, that was towards the end of the operation and a certain individual with a skull face mask and brooding demeanor helped cover you. However, just as you thought things were getting better and it seemed like the possibility of getting exfil was coming soon, enemy troops started to flank in from all possible sides, leaving you fucking stranded with a few grenades, a knife, and Ghost.

"Shit! I've cleared our 6, safe house should be a few klicks that way. Fuckin' hell, let's move!" came through your communication system signaling Ghost's desperation to move escape.

Just as it seemed like your boots were about to give out, the safe house stood just 2 klicks away in the distance and that gave you even more strength to keep trudging on. Then, you finally matched pace with Ghost.

"Ghost"

"Mm?"

"Thank you for that, I'm sorry I fucked up and I know that won't change what happened but-"

"Do me a favour and shut the fuck up"

The change in tone did not escape you. He was harsh, abrasive even. While looking at him, he didn't even bother looking back, just staring at the house which came nearer.

Upon arriving at the safehouse, he immediately checked all the rooms before allowing you in, which was a complete 180° from the Ghost you just talked to.

"ALL CLEAR!"

That was the signal you needed to know it was safer for a while. Placing your rucksack down to the dusty corner on the left, you immediately inspected your weapons. Upon inspection, a stressed sigh left your lips as your brows furrowed, to Ghost it was clear something was off. He knew something happened when you couldn't shoot and he had to take cover, but he didn't know the full extent of it. "S'okay?” was all he could say in the moment.

“M’fine, firearm’s not.”

He knew he had fucked up with the way he replied to you earlier. He knew it was immature and honestly not what you needed in that moment. Ghost didn’t like getting attached, he didn’t like the whole process of feeling feelings, having to eventually become vulnerable, the whole process. He hated it.

But for some goddamn reason he was protective over you, and he knows exactly why. Instead of butterflies in his stomach, he thinks moths have grown and you’re the flame.

“Give it to me I’ll handle it.”

What the fuck? Why was he being so… so like that?! So caring? Maybe it wasn’t caring, maybe it was just Friendly Team Fun. Definitely yeah but what. He was just an asshole now he swept the safe house for hostiles and is offering to “handle it?”. Ghost is ghost, you knew that. You knew that he has trouble admitting when he’s done wrong and instead resorts to helping out instead or solving a problem of yours. Rather than replying back verbally, you shot him an inquisitive look with your hand on your hip.

“Yeah, whatever just stand there and pose. I don’t care just give it to me I’ll fix the jam”

It was his way of saying sorry and despite your mini grudge against him for the way he was acting, you still handed them over.

“Fine. Here.”

Once the laborious task was finished, he looked over and saw you sleeping, albeit lightly. Cleaning your weapons was his way of saying sorry, while trying to protect you though he would never admit either out loud. Maybe someday.

“Wasn’t mad, jus’ scared. Didn’t wanna lose you”

Being the light sleeper you are, you stiffened but he didn’t catch it.

Once you got exfil and landed safely at the Air Base, Gaz and Soap were there to greet the both of you. Upon exiting the Chinook, you marched ahead of Ghost. Scanning their faces, you saw Gaz and Soap exchange a look. They had seen Ghost trailing behind you… with his hand behind your back. You didn’t say anything, not wanting to scare him off but let out a gentle hum. Accepting his apology once and for all. You could live with the warmth of his hand coating your back.

A/N: yeah let’s all look away I made this in an hour out of boredom. i’m thinking of doing the other COD boys next, but if so who would y’all wanna see next? also oh em gee ghost is really an acts of service typa guy like this man will most definitely have painkillers on hand for you like aHHHH.

#honey has the mic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #ghost x gn reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #protective!ghost

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thewales · 2 months

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The Princess of Wales, Colonel of the Irish Guards, will inspect the troops during the rehearsal for "Trooping the Colour" on 8th June 2024.

This year, the 1st Battalion of the Irish Guards will be responsible for escorting the Colour.

#brf #the prince of wales #trooping the colour

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leupagus · 9 months

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Still working on the "No Seriously, If Crowley and Aziraphale Ever Did Have Sex, They'd Have So Many Weird Conversations About It First" fic

"You already have a penis?" Aziraphale demanded, his hands on his hips. "Since when?"

Crowley tried to recall. "Turn of the nineteenth, I think?" he ventured. There'd been a fountain, and a lot of wine, and Jane challenging him to see which of them could hit the fish statue in the middle.* Afterwards he'd kept it — it was fun, being able to take a piss if you felt like it. Not to mention you could stir up a lot of trouble in public toilets if you were in a mood.**

"Really?" Aziraphale looked halfway between surprised and intrigued. "Don't you find it a bit — floppy?"

"Eh, a bit," Crowley admitted. "But they do amazing things with underpants these days."

Aziraphale laughed, the startled hiccough he gave sometimes when he wasn't quite ready to be out of his sulk. It was one of Crowley's favorite noises. "Very well," he said, adjusting his waistcoat. "Let's have a look."

"What? No," said Crowley. He'd been looking forward to showing off his cock at some point, but Aziraphale was eyeing him like the Queen about to inspect the troops.

"Why not?" Aziraphale whinged, his lower lip puckering dangerously near a pout. "We're going to have to take our clothes off when we have sex. Unless — actually, I think that's on the list of kinks, you know, sex with your clothes on, but it seems terribly awkward, not to mention you'd have to get everything cleaned afterward. Although I do have a rather good 'dry cleaner,'" he made the inverted commas with his fingers and everything, "Who's an absolute miracle worker." He paused. "Well, not a real one. At any rate, come along." And he gestured at Crowley's crotch.

Crowley, who'd had millennia of practice with Aziraphale's careening monologues, was still halfway through unbuckling his belt before his brain caught up. "I'm not pulling my cock out in the middle of your bookshop," he said — with absolutely perfect timing, since Muriel chose that moment to come bustling in.

They stood frozen for a moment, blinking at both of them as they clutched at the doorframe. "I think I, erm, heard a… noise?" They smiled, and backed out slowly. "I should go. And check, on the noise, because noises are sometimes indicators of—" Whatever else they were saying was lost with the slamming of the door.

"Small mercies," Aziraphale huffed, and wriggled his fingers; the sign on the door flipped to "CLOSED" and the door locked with a pointed flourish. "Now then!"

*Neither of them had, and it had nearly gotten them arrested, all the moreso since they'd been in Spain at the time.

**With or without an anus.

#good omens fic #ficcage of interest #crowley's musings about the time he considered getting snake penises #(yes snakes have two dicks)#are definitely going to be referenced #so many wonderful sexy fics about these guys but what *I* want to bring #is the Weird Energy #ineffable motherfuckers #good grade in sex fic

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jame7t · 5 months

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Stop jerking off and build various siege engines. Come on troops the inspection is toniiiight you’re gonna get me in troubleeeee hehe ^_^

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thebreakfastgenie · 3 months

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It's kinda funny that the fandom tends to assume all those MASH guys went to and from Korea entirely by plane. Father Mulcahy canonically arrived on a troop ship (he discusses it in Alcoholics Unanimous) and in the book Hawkeye departs on one. In the movie, Duke envisions them on a ship when they get their orders. In GFA, BJ is discussing a route home that involves a ship for part of the journey. Henry's plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan, between Korea and Japan, which means he was probably en route to Tokyo, where he may have gotten a connecting flight or a ship. Some soldiers are sent home by plane, because there's an episode where they convince a patient to get over his fear of flying in order to get home faster. But when you're talking about a large number of personnel being discharged after the armistice was signed in 1953, they probably put a lot of those guys on ships. I'm sure this information is available but it's not on the Korean War wikipedia page so I'll have to fact-check it some other time. For now, let me just say that I want more troop ship fics. Bonus if they include short arm inspection.

#mashposting

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weixuldo · 1 year

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Allow Me// Ch 2

Vader x F!Reader

A/N: Hiiii! I am back and sorry again for the wait! A friend from out of town was in and I spent the week with her. But from now on, the updates should be more frequent! I also just wanted to say thank you all for the overwhelming support on the last chapter! I truly did not think that It was going to get so much love haha

You must be the unluckiest person in the Galaxy

Warnings: cannon-typicaal violence, weapons, cursing, death, harassment

_________________

You cowered under your bed sheets as you felt the demanding presence of Darth Vader approaching your door. Your heart raced with every whirr of his breath; you knew he could sense your fear.

All he had to do was open the door…

You waited for what seemed like hours for the man on the other side to come bursting in, but to your surprise- he never did, instead he stood dormant at your door for a while until you heard him walk away.

What did he want to do? Intimidate you? If he was going to kill you, why didn’t he do that?

Thoughts raced through your tired mind as you slowly lowered the covers from your head and tried to calm down.

As much as you tried you couldn’t seem to find sleep for the rest of the night.

Begrudgingly, the morning shift system dinged, notioning for you to go to your station for the day. You pulled yourself out of your bed and put on your uniform, yawning the whole way to your post.

As much as the events of last night disturbed you, you were too exhausted to be fully comprehensive; so when you bumped into a supply cart coming down the corridor you could barely make out the annoyed shouts of the worker.

“My apologies” you offered, continuing down the hall as the cart worker shouted some distasteful insults your way.

Once you entered the station your supervisor handed you a holopad and gave you your assignment for the day. You were to check some of the machines on the bridge and then report back to your boss.

Sadly for you the bridge was on the totally opposite end of the executor, but at least today’s assignment was fairly short; before you knew it you would be able to go back to your quarters and fall asleep.

The promise of sleep motivated you to hurry down to your assigned station for the day, thinking of nothing but fantasies of your soft pillows. In the midst of your daydreams you ran into a trooper who was heading down the intersecting hall. The impact made you fall back onto your ass and you looked up at the trooper with a scowl.

“What are you looking at? You’re the one who ran into me!” he barked before continuing on, but not before cursing you under his breath.

You shook your head and grabbed the holopad that landed beside you.

Fuck.

There was a large crack all the way down the small tablet’s surface, great… another expense that’ll come out of your already small paycheck. This has truly been the best week, what next universe?

You finally entered the bridge with the sliding of the doors and observed the glossy obsidian color of the bustling room. Officers and troops bustled on the platform and in the pits to the sides of the main bridge.

You made your way to the lower deck of the bridge and set your bag down beside the machine you were to be inspecting. The generals in the stations surrounding you seemed to be pretty lax with their jobs; leaning back in their chairs, talking about the newest blasters on the market rather than actually paying attention to their screens.

The one closest to you kept tapping his foot against the machine you were trying to inspect which frustrated you immensely.

“Excuse me, Would You mind moving your chair to the side a little, I need some more room to check up on the unit” You asked, as politely as you could, expecting an “ok”. Instead the man scowled and sat upright in his chair.

“No, I will not. I need to stay here and do my duties- the duties of a general, mind you. I’m sure your…inspection work… is much less severe, so I think you can wait” the man said with a patronizing tone.

What in the galaxy has gotten everyone so stiff today? The entitlement of these generals was crazy. You rolled your eyes as you inspected the equipment in front of you; you took the metal plating off and carefully laid out the screws in order to put them back on when you were finished.

Before you could actually get to the inspection part of your job, you felt something hit the back of your head; it was a piece of garbage.

You shot your head towards the direction of the trash and saw the same general, snickering with some of the others in the row before one offered, “oops, sorry, I missed the trash”.

How were these idiots, who obviously didn’t give a shit about their job, getting paid more and getting more recognition than you. You may not have been totally invested in the empire’s agenda, but you did care about the quality of your work.

You took a magnifying utensil to inspect the crossed wires in the back of the unit; that's the problem, the wires were getting tangled with every tap the general dealt to the machine under the desk.

You reached down into your bag and grabbed some pliers to untangle them, but before you could get started, you saw the screen above you blinking red.

You didn’t really know what exactly you were looking at, but it didn’t look good; it looked like there were a few fighter planes approaching the back side of the executor.

That was definitely not good; you looked at the rude general who was supposed to man the station, he was busy laughing it up with some co-workers on the other end of the deck.

“Sir” you called, attempting to wave over the rogue general.

Nothing.

“General!” you shouted a little louder.

He whipped his head towards you with narrowed eyes until he saw the screen and all the color drained from his face. He ran over to his desk, frantically pressed a few buttons, flipped two red switches, and shouted some commands.

Soon you heard the muffled reverbs of the ship releasing tie-fighters into space.

The man sat back in his chair and faced forward, he was sweating and you could see his legs trembling next to the unit you were almost done patching up.

Before you knew it the whole bridge went silent, no more bustling, no more smiling, only silence and anxiety filled the room. What the fuck just happened?

Soon enough the doors of the bridge swished open and your silent questions were answered.

The dark figure of Darth Vader came in with a determined strut; he was not pleased. You lowered your head and finished up tightening the screws to close the machine so you could leave asap. He was the last person you wanted to see today, last night he literally stood outside of your door-probably debating whether to kill you or not.

“Someone in this room has allowed rebel ships to enter our flight deck. Of course we exterminated them, but that does not excuse the uncalculated mistake of someone in this room.”

Vader continued down the top deck; once he halted so did the entourage of troopers behind him. He slowly turned his head and surveyed the room trying to determine who’s blunder allowed rebels to get that close to the ship.

Though you know you did nothing wrong in this situation, your anxiety was through the roof.

Swiftly, he turned towards your direction-

Fuck.

There is no way in the galaxy-

“Your fear betrays you, General” his mechanical voice stated.

You exhaled a short breath, you were indeed not a General. But before you could completely relax the man beside you protested.

“She was the one who failed to alert me, it was not my fault” the General exclaimed standing tall and pointing an accusing finger at you.

What?!

Vader already had it out for you, this was just gonna add to the problem.

He slightly shifted his lenses towards you before turning back to the man.

“I recall the empire bestowed the title of General upon you, not her; am I correct?” Vader questioned in an even tone.

“Y-yes My lord”

“In that case, You are responsible for your station, not her”

The worried officer frantically looked around, before pushing past you to make a break for the exit. His forceful push made you tumble down the small steps from the desk areas to the actual floor, as well as your bag. You landed harshly and winced at one of your heavier tools landing on your arm.

Before you could get up, Lord Vader had a trooper blast the general through the chest and his limp body fell backwards beside you.

“Someone get this garbage off of my bridge” Vader said with a flip of his cape as he headed for the exit.

You began to lift yourself up from the floor, truly ready just to go back to your room; you didn't get any sleep, kept bumping into people, your holopad cracked, dealt with rude generals, got pushed down some stairs, and just had someone die beside you, just another stellar day in the empire.

The bustling sound of the troopers halted making you look back up; Lord Vader was looking straight at you.

“And bring that officer to a meeting room, I need to speak with them”

Just as you began to protest, two troopers secured your arms.

“Better shut your mouth little one” one snapped as the other just laughed.

Great.

_______________________________

The room was cool and dark, a blinking light in the corner of the room indicated that you were being surveilled. Thankfully you were unbound, but didn't dare to wonder about the room- he could enter at any moment.

But why were you here? Was it because of those troopers the other night? Did the sith lord think that you were spreading rumors about having “relations” with him? Was it because people you had bumped into were complaining about your seeming lack of spatial awareness? No, that’s just outlandish…but what if?

To be honest you were too exhausted to think straight, everything was seeming like a possibility, and you had the worst week, so at this point you didn’t really give a fuck about what would happen to you.

Maybe if he killed you, you would actually find some peace.

The cool air of the room was making you sleepy, your eyelids felt like weights and you couldn't stop them from closing.

Whoosh

The sound of the door swooshing open awoke you from your light sleep, how long had it been? How-

Suddenly all traces of sleep shook from your body as you came face to face with the man in the dark mask.

Sure, you said you wouldn’t mind dying, but now that death was staring you in the face, you felt inclined to plead for your life.

“M-my Lord, I apologize I was”

“Resting… I see. Perhaps I took too long to make my way here” he said, sliding the door shut behind him.

“No sir- um.. My Lord” you corrected as you nervously fiddled your fingers.

“You may calm your anxieties, officer” the man in front of you said as he slowly made his way to the table you were seated at.

His words didn’t do much to calm you but you did relax your posture a bit. He took a stand in front of you, making you eye level with his control panel.

He was so much larger than you remembered, probably since you were more wary of him since you were in his direct interest as of now.

“Am I to be punished for earlier?” you asked, avoiding eye contact with his lenses.

“Not at the moment, is there something I should be made aware of?”

“No, My lord. It’s just that the general who spoke out was not manning his station and I did not want his words to cloud what really happened”

“I thought nothing of the sort, I know you would not allow for such a careless mistake”

He spoke with such a neutral tone that you couldn’t determine whether he was playing with your mind or if his words were truly sincere.

“As of late I have observed your work and am pleased by your dedication to the Empire” he said.

“I appreciate your faith in my work, my lord; but may I ask why I was called here?”

The Sith lord turned towards the camera in the corner of the room and back at you before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

“I wanted to thank you for your work on the executor, personally. I have noticed others on board have not treated you the best and yet you still provide quality service”

Your heart began to race even faster, was this a dream? Was Darth Vader himself really praising your work right now? And what baffled you even more is that he noticed how you had been treated throughout your posting on his ship.

You really didn’t expect Vader to care that much about his employees, but maybe he was a bit softer than everyone thought…(unlikely).

Before you could respond he placed a holopad on the table that showed a nicely constructed grave stone with your mothers name, what was this? Your father couldn’t afford this.

You looked up at the man who filled the room with echoes of his mechanical breathing.

“I-I don't understand-”

“As I mentioned earlier, I am regretful you were not able to attend your mother’s funeral procession, so I had the empire deliver your father funds for her memorial. It’s the least I could do” he said, clicking the projection off.

You sat in the metal chair, bewildered; why in the galaxy would Darth Vader give your father money for your mother’s grave?

Your family was a bunch of nobody’s… Nothing attached to your name, but now your mother had a grave of high gentry. It didn't make sense.

As you pondered his motives, the sith lord rose from his seat and proceeded to walk to the side you were on.

You were shaken from your thoughts when you felt a firm and heavy hand on your shoulder. It was a feeling that should have invoked fear, but instead you felt butterflies.

Not many people had been nice to you in your life, so were you just being delusional and trying to make it seem that this sith lord really cared about you?

You knew you needed to be more cautious around him, but you couldn’t help but smile up at the dark figure looming behind you.

“You are stronger than you know, officer, do not let anyone on this ship tell you otherwise” he said before patting you once more and leaving.

______________________________

The cool sheets of your empire-grade bed felt nice after your warm shower. You settled into bed with a new sense of pride, someone important, no. one of the most important figures in the galaxy, recognized your skill and talent. He recognized your plights and struggles and gave you encouragement for better.

As you slept your mind seemed to compile every snippet of time that you interacted with Vader into a long dream; not that you minded, but your brain was definitely not helping you suppress your delusions. At this rate you’d be dreaming of a future with the most feared man in the galaxy.

It was stupid to think that was possible, but after all, it was just a dream,

no harm in that.

Except for the fact that on the opposite end of the executor, a sleep deprived Vader couldn’t seem to clear his mind enough to meditate.

He was too busy envisioning the face of that beautiful officer he had been encountering more and more frequently.

This was not a part of the Sith’s agenda, you were a distraction. You needed to be wiped from his mind, but he couldn’t seem to do it. Of course there was an obvious solution; get rid of you- whether it be a transfer or death-

just get rid of you.

But no matter how hard he tried to call for the orders, he couldn’t.

How could he when you had been the only thing that made him feel remotely human again?

***

A/N: heheh tysm for waiting for this chapter and i hope this story is interesting u guys!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls

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