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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months

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FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4

(König x F!Reader)

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^

AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…

The end of the world is here.

Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.

Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it.

Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?

. . .

The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.

She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.

“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits.

“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”

She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.

“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.

“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.

“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”

“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong.

Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.

The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch.

You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.

“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.

“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”

. . .

You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.

You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.

You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.

That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.

Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.

That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.

And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...

He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.

Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius.

A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight.

Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud.

Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child.

Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader.

Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air.

Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you.

You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream.

And he turns.

Death turns.

Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.

The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from.

The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–

No.

You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.

You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.

He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart.

You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.

“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him.

The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast.

He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual.

But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.

. . .

You are brought to his tent, screaming.

It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.

The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock.

Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.

You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.

He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…

You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood.

It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot.

The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should.

You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle.

The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.

“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.

“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.

“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.

“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.

Because there have been many omens in the air lately.

It’s just that none of them were portents of war.

The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless.

All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.

“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…

“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.

“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.

“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you.

And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?

He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself.

The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself.

Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.

“Müde?”

He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up.

To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.

His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know.

The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen.

This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.

Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.

He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good…

You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.

…

Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.

Translations

Nein, warte - No, wait

Schön - Beautiful

Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy

Sie redet - She talks

Du? - You?

Müde? - Tired?

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig #könig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #könig fluff #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig x female reader

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sleepyhead-poll · 2 months

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ROUND 4D, MATCH 1 OUT OF 2!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Snorlax:

he be snorin'. he be lax.

big sleeby... <3 he just like me fr fr

i mean it's snorlax cmon

Always sleeping. Always blocking the way of everyone. Will not move for anyone, must sleep.

This pokémon is the embodiment of sleeping (or hibernation more precisely). In the games, they block you path by sleeping in the middle of the road and you have to wake them up with a flute. In battles, they often use the attack "rest".

eepy. snoozle. his name is “snore lax” i dont think you get much more restful than that

Snorlax propaganda! - the og sleeper seen in gen 1. has longevity and we respect that - literally called the sleeping pokemon in the pokedex - blocks your path by sleeping in no less than three generations and three remakes, requiring you to wake it up - also does this in pokemon ranger - based on game freak employee kōji nishino, which is a subtweet if i've ever seen one - has a practically 100% usage in gen 1 and 2 ou competitive, and always runs rest - one of the few pokemon to learn rest, snore, and sleep talk by level up, no tms, breeding, or tutors required - the mascot of pokemon sleep, and your goal is to feed it so it can get a good night's sleep with you. literally can't get more sleepy than that. - an event snorlax can be caught in pokemon go where he wears a little sleeping cap awwww baby - also has an adorable sleepwear skin in pokemon unite - is able to have the ability deep sleep in pokemon conquest, allowing it to recover hp if it falls asleep - gigantamax snorlax is described as "the size of a mountain—and moves about as much as one as well" - you can get tons of officially licensed pjs with snorlax on them, perfectly fitting its sleepiness - you can also get these delightfully cute bookends where snorlax is sleeping? - also snorlax appears in the music video for celestial by ed sheeran. not necessarily sleepy but i think it's funny like how many other contenders are in ed sheeran lore - i like it

SNORLAX PROPAGANDA PART TWO?!?! last march, pokemon launched a "project snorlax" campaign meant to promote snorlax specifically and it came with a bunch of neat material, i'll put it under a cut lmao [Click link to view material "under the cut" in original propaganda post]

Kirby:

Kirby looove napping and sleeping and is too cute when he is :3

They the littlest guy ever, all that they like to do is eat, play with their friends, and sleep. There’s a copy ability called sleep that literally just makes them tired, and in forgotten land there’s a more powerful sleep ability that give them a little blanket and bed. An eepy little guy.

kirby starts off a lot of his games napping & in forgotten land you can even take a nap with elfilin to restore health and it's ADORABLE. and of course, he has his sleep ability, which just makes him take a nap right after inhaling certain enemies.

He's a ball who likes to eat, sleep, and play with his friends, and just so happens to be a godslaying entity that may or may not be an incarnation of a deity. Also just look at his nap animations in Kirby and the Forgotten Land

kirby has canonically slept through at least one hostile invasion

#round 4 #round 4d #kirby #pokemon #snorlax #poll bracket #poll tournament #polls #character polls #sleepyhead poll

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yns-world · 1 year

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House of The Dragon Reacting to You Being Courted and Wedded to Someone Else

part ii of The Heir series

part i

a/n: fem reader, race not specified, size not specified

Y/H/A = Your House Animal

Y/H/C = Your House Color

In this imagine, your jealous lovers are: Rhaenyra and Daemon

Context: After inheriting the crown, your first duty was to find a King's consort. As part of your heirship, King Viserys forbade any Targaryen to ever meddle with your reign, wanting your dynasty to be as true to you as possible.

Rhaenyra: As your Hand, she knew very well that it was your civic duty to wed and produce heirs, no matter how painful it was for her to watch. During your courtship, she created a 3-month tour to visit every kingdom on the map to find the most suitable match, because Rhaenyra knew that you weren’t just marrying the person; you were creating an alliance with the whole House. This required a careful evaluation of a lord’s status, wealth, and history. When she came back from her journey, she presented you with three candidates--

“Ser Tyland Lannister from House Lannister of Casterly Rock; Ser Laenor Velaryon from House Velaryon of Driftmark; and Ser Harwin Strong from House Strong of Harrenhal.” Rhaenyra presented the three men and they all bowed before the throne.

“And what do they offer the crown?” Queen Y/N inquired, clearly unimpressed by the selection.

“House Lannister has enough gold to fund the crown. House Velaryon has thousands of fleets that are pledged to fight for any and all of your greatest conquests. And finally, House Strong is a noble house that produced the greatest warriors ever known.” Rhaenyra answered, looking up at the queen with an arched brow, waiting for a snarky comment that never came.

Queen Y/N pondered on the options for a moment, flicking her eyes from Rhaenyra and to the three men standing before her.

“Congratulations Ser Tyland Lannister, you have the honor of being named the King’s Consort.” There was a layer of disdain in her voice, a layer that Rhaenyra picked up on.

In honor of the two Houses uniting, a brand new banner was designed-- Y/H/A and the Lannister Lion were sharing arms, while Y/H/A wore a crown and the Lannister Lion held a sword in its other paw. Your house colors switched places, with Lannister Red coloring behind Y/H/A and Y/H/C being behind the Lion.

From the beginning, the process of your marriage was a difficult pill for Rhaenyra to swallow, but all the pain and suffering was worth it when you named your first daughter and heir apparent after her-- Princess Rhaenyra L/N, second of her name, heir to the Iron Throne.

Daemon: Daemon was appointed Lord Commander of the Queensguard and a “friend of the crown”, so to speak. When it came to your marriage, you believed that Daemon would be unaffected by the political arrangement. To your astonishment, it was quite the opposite.

Just a few hours after the first candidate showing, Daemon decapitated the suitor that you had your eyes on-- some prick from House Lannister.

In the beginning of the killings, nobody knew who this culprit was. But you knew, you knew all along, you just wouldn’t be dettered so easily.

The next morning after the first death, Daemon sulked into the throne room and dropped to his knees in front of you. He latched onto your legs and started sobbing into your silk gown.

“All my life I was the second choice-- the second son, the second heir-- I don’t want to be your second lover. I want to be the only one. You are the Queen of the Realm, I am nothing but your servant.” After catching his breath, Daemon slowly raised his desperate eyes to your face. With a finality in his voice, he spoke. “Nobody is worthy of the Queen of the Realm.”

This killing pattern would continue with every single candidate that came close to becoming your consort. It got to the point where fathers of prominent Houses were terrified of sending their sons to ask for your hand in marriage. Eventually your council knew they couldn’t get you to wed for as long as Daemon stayed at your post, so they let you become a king-less queen.

The unfortunate victims of Daemon’s rage were labeled as the Queen’s Ghosts-- the 32 men who were brutally murdered in Queen Y/N’s name. These victims came from all of the major families and then some-- House Lannister of Casterly Rock, House Stark of Winterfell, House Baratheon of Storm’s End, the list goes on.

Daemon’s brutalities were quickly associated with you, earning you the title “The Queen of Death.” You didn’t mind the title, it only fueled fear in the hearts of the people that didn’t already bow to you.

Of course, there was the question of your next heir. Since you weren’t wed, how could you possibly have any children?

Fortunantely for you, the agreement between your House and House Targaryen forbade you from any legal contraction, but that didn’t stop Daemon from siring four of your children out of wedlock-- one boy and three girls. Your first son and heir was named Sol, after the sun. Unlike you, Prince Sol would grow into a king who would fit his inherited title of “The Ruler of Death.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :)

DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3

i'm open to HoTD requests so just read my pinned post for request rules <3

if you have any ideas for other scenarios for this series or just any ideas in general, please don't hesitate to hmu!!! i want to hear what everyone has to say :)

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tonixe · 6 months

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im currently kicking, screaming, crying, and begging for a part two of your elf king Kyle fic 🦭

'I only have eyes for the King' + II

a/n: IM BACK!! The answer is yes, im sorry I kinda of baiting y'all all but I wrote it but I wanted to fix it because it wasn't giving, so this is me rewriting it I hope yall enjoy, and I hope you, lovies are having a wonderful day. P.S. This will also be posted on my ao3 as well!! I'm still in my royal era, and, I love kyle sm. ✩ KYLE IS AGED UP

warnings: nsfw, penetrating, yes there will be sex, p in the v, technically adultery, creampie, fluff, mature kyle. There getting physical and its detail.

pairing: Kyle Broflovski x Queen!reader ✩

word count: 2.7k

part one: I

tags: @peachykeen3502, @cafezingoxtoso..

"Yes, we shall" You made eye contact with the king.

You fixed your posture on the chairs, placing your gloved hands on your dress, looking forward at the redhead king. "So, what brought you to the Kupa Kingdom," you said, before taking ahold of the freshly poured tea in front of you and taking a sip of the hot liquid.

"The faction is breaking apart" He calmly spoke out, before drinking the poured liquid into the cup. "Faction?" You repeated the words of the man.

"Yes, seemed like some political parties have formed their unit and causing some problems" He began to sip his tea, your pupils were dilated, as you studied his features. His conquest did bring some good things, his face is a little longer than his normal style, still curly. It gave him a feminine appearance but you looked your gaze at his hands and forearm, it also got him stronger.

"Are they my dear husband's group that is causing that?" I cocked my eyebrows, "Probability is most likely, knowing Cartman.." He finishes, placing his cup down and waving the maid away from refilling it. "So, what did you come here for.." you opened your eyes, looking at him directly.

"To make peace with you" You swore you saw a little smug grin on his face, "For what?" I questioned, "Against your husband, so we can stop this nonsense, you're only lucky that we're on good terms.." his words dripped with venom after he finished, "Alright" You placed the cup down, "Then it's settled" You placed your hands on your lap,

"Do you need a room to have some rest from your long voyage?"

The king of the elves is already being directed to his room, by one of the delegates. "Butters," You said, before hearing his footsteps, as you turned to him, he was already bowing. "Please, call Sir Craig, and Tweek Tweek, to the crowning room.." You tuck your hands to your side, "in a fast fashion, please" You finished, turning your body to open the window, his elf scent still lingering. 'God their scent is strong' you groaned, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

"Yes Your Majesty," He said, before his footsteps backed away from you, maybe he was running, it made you laugh a bit. "Scott, I turned and flickered my eyes to the doorway

"Yes, your grace?" He bows at a 90-degree angle, "Tell the chefs to get dinner ready, and make sure for it to be extravagant, I want him to know how long I have been waiting for him.." You smiled to yourself, whispering the last part to yourself, "Yes my queen". As he left the room, you started walking to the crowning room, picking up your dress as you went to the room. Sitting down on the throne, smoothing out your dress.

As you heard footsteps in the throne room, "My grace" You heard in sync, I picked up my head and looked at the two men in front of me. "I have a position for you two men" You cleared my throat, "I need you to clear out a group of people causing trouble in one of the villages, I have heard that it was made by Eric" You finished. "Even if you have to kill them, just clear them off..and if they're not dead yet. Bring them to the dungeon and let the executor take care of them" You finished, fluffing up your hair.

"Is that all my queen?" Craig said, "Yes, you are welcome to go" You finished, before hearing the metal hunk of junk walking out of the crown room. Getting up from the throne, you walked to your chambers to get ready for dinner. Your handmaids accompanied you, as they walked with you to your room.

Feeling their hands zip down your dress, untying the string as it fell down. Your kirtle being revealed, as they took it off as well, to your Farmingdale then to your chemise and garter. "You guys can leave. I want to rest please" You said, turning to them as they bowed and left your room. The door closed slowly, and you walked to the bathing chamber, remembering the sounds of the water being run, crossing your eyes to see him. You wanted to visit him but were worried about being caught. Biting your lip, walking to your bed, laying down. Looking at your open window, the velvet curtains adorning the window.

[ A few hours ]

There was knocking at your door, as you woke up grogily. Your maids ran in, "My grace" a red-headed girl said, it was a girl named Red. As you propped yourself up, looking at her. "We have to get you dressed quickly, the dinner in an hour" She exclaimed, walking closer to you. Getting up from your bed, stretching your arms. Walking to her, as she dressed you back in the layer, Farmingdale, kirtle, layers and layers, with petticoats. "What color do you want to wear?" She asked, "Something that—" You cut myself short before I accidentally said something else. "Blue, a blue velvet dress, and some pearl accessories too" You finished. As she stepped out outside, she found the dress.

'Kyle.." You thought in my head, your eyes flickering to your hands. Before Red came back quickly, she held the blue velvet dress with pearls delicately.

"Do you want me to help you put it on?"

"Yes please" I smiled, as she helped you into the dress. Stepping into the blue dress, as she pulled the dress up. You fixed the corset of your chest. Your eyes looked into the mirror, the dress did look good on you, but your chest was being dramatically pushed up.

"You looked beautiful madam," Red said, "I'll do the rest, please go," You said, as you sat at your vanity, doing your hair and putting on a matching French hood. Light makeup and painting your lips a light crimson red. As you got up, walking with you out of your chamber, went to the banquet hall, and sat down at the front of the table.

"Apolgies I was late" You spoke out, your eyes looking around. There were some people around the large dinner room table, Princess Kenny at your right, King Kyle sitting on the opposite side of you, with some at his left, It was a man with a harsh stare and black messy hair. You believed it was Sir Stan, and the bard, Jimmy Valmer. There were more people as well, nobles, and lords including Lord Tolkien around the table. You bit your lip, only wanting to enjoy dinner with him. Looking at your front at Kyle, he stared at you as well. "So, how was it in the Kupa Keeps" You sipped some wine from my golden cup, looking at the several maids and butler serving food on the large table. Soon being filled with a bunch of food,

A butler serves your food, putting it on the delicate white china. "It was well" He looked at his plate soon being filled of his plate, "I'm glad", "You brought Sir Stan as well," You said, flickering my eyes at him. "How did you like it so far, stan?" You cocked my head slightly. He didn't say anything yet, "It was good," He said, taking a sip of the golden cup, "That's nice" You smiled, You took another sip, and You glanced at Kenny as she looked at you.

Before I cleared my throat, "Let's raise our glasses to..the king of the elven kingdom having a safe voyage" You raised my glass as they all did as well, "Cheers" You exclaimed, "cheers" You heard his deep chilling voice to my ears.

You pulled open the window, and your whole room felt hot, letting the cold air enter your room. But it was not enough at all, you were sweating from your frilly nightgown, your hair down as well. You wanted to blame it on Kyle, everything he did was annoying you, especially his appearance.

'How wouldn't drive somebody crazy, and his scent", gripping your nightgown, before changing into a fancy robe covering your body. You knew what room he was staying in, and he wasn't going to asleep at this time, opening the door of your room quietly.

Stepping your feet on the cold tile floor, walking as you cover yourself in the robe, feeling nervous about what to come with the elf king. Finding making it to his room, debating on knocking but you place your hands on the golden, cold knob before opening it.

He was lying down, not ready for bed but reading something with fancy carved glasses, his hair was messy but it was perfect, his skin still pale as snow and his freckles making a perfect contrast. You stepped fully into the room before closing the door behind you and locking making sure nobody came in.

You felt his eyes on you in the beginning, as his head turned to you. "–And what do I own the queen?" he said, with an interesting voice, and you felt your lower abdomen tingling. "Everything Kyle.." You said before you could process, walking to his bed. He watched every step you made, before you dropped the robe.

His eyes widen at your naked display, your curves that are hidden in the petticoats and layers of the dress being revealed and your breasts perked up. You didn't cover your body at all, you walked toward the side of the bed he was at, "you owe me everything" you whispered, looking at him in the eyes. "Is the queen seducing me?" he teasingly responded, before he got out of bed.

He pushed the strands of your hair from your face, before his eyes looking at every part, every piece of skin he could see. "How long did I seen you like this..?" he questioned, "3 years ago" I answers back

"You changed," he said quietly, feeling his face roaming against your body, his fingers grazing your nipples, "Haah~" you moaned, "Still the same, Y/N" he chuckled. To your surprise, he carried you, you quickly wrapped your around his neck and hips. Feeling blooming kisses on your neck, your moans flew in a rhythmic motion, before he kisses you.

Your and his lips touched, you both fighting for dominance, but you ultimately failed.

He explored your mouth, abusing your lower lip, before withdrawing. Your chest heaving, eyes are heavy and droopy. "K–Kyle" you moaned, as he laid you down on his bed. Your body shifted as you tried to cover your breast, "Don't look at me it's..... embarrassing" you whimpered.

"Too late" he ripped your hands away, your breast bouncing with the motion. Hunger was in his eyes, as he pried your legs apart. You were already wet, leaking out some clear liquids, feeling his head in-between your legs. Feeling his nose colliding with your clit and his tongue fucking your pussy. Moans ripped out of your throats, clenching your feet and throwing your head back.

Placing your hand on the back of his head, pushing him in, "More..more.." you whined. His tongue felt like heaven, pleasure all over your body. His hands propping your kegs up, his grip never leaving them.

It was embarrassing doing this again, you were addicted to him. He satisfied you in ways he couldn't, feeling your orgasm coming through as you a wave of hot, pleasure came down on you. Feeling his tongue taking care of the mess between your thighs, his sticky saliva on you.

Your eye hesitantly made eye contact with you, his face had wet marks. It made you feel hot, as he licked his lips. "I didn't get to enjoy it meal yet" he pouted, "well I guess dessert is next" he started taking off his loose pants, revealing his cock. It was bigger than before. You remember the first time you guys fooled around, but now everything felt so real.

He wasn't clean-shaven. The carpet matched the drapes, a deep orange as his happy trail. As he lined up with your wet cunt, "Kyle..wait–" he looked at you, his cock dripping precum and an angry red tip. Your breathing got heavier.

"Should we think about this?" I looked away, mumbling, "Why?" he groaned.

"You got bigger" I felt my cheek heating up, "Bigger?" he had a smile on his face, "this?" he pointed at it. He took my hand, putting it on his dick, as he guide me through stroking his cock, it was big like the cucumbers the kitchen ladies pick from the garden.

"Fuck~" he groaned, closing his eyes. "I should cum on your little face right now" he taunted, more dribbles of cum coming out. He was like a leaky faucet. "Alright, you ready" he lined with me, leaning to my ear and whispering. I felt his fingers spreading my pussy lips apart, "Yes, please..kyle make me yours" I moaned before putting my arms around his back and pushing him closer to me. Feeling his dick into you, as you moaned in impact.

His hips collided with yours, putting your back on the bed. Taking my hands off of him, before holding your legs close to your chest. Feeling him shifting closer to me, his hips with mine. "Fuck" A wonton of moans coming out of your lips. "Fuck, your tight" he groaned, "How can a king have such a dirty mouth" You teased, before pushing your back to the soft mattress. Your lips, and his crashing together. His hips stop stopping, feeling his dick touching your cervix. As his hands touched your clit, making you feel hot. His hands touched you in places he shouldn't as he touched your breast, rolling his hands on your nipples, making you moan out.

His touch made you flustered, feeling a warm sensation in your stomach. A wave hit you again, liquid coming out of you. His dick abused your pussy as you gripped the sheets underneath you, turning your head to the side. The curtains weren't closed, making your heart beat more. You couldn't focus on Kyle's moans being heard. Feeling his hands on your waist, flipping you over, "Ass up" He growled.

You obeyed, putting your head down and your ass up in the air, as you felt his hand on it. Before going back thrusting his dick into you.

Your legs getting tired, as you dipped your body down. His hands gripping your hips keeping them up, "HAah~" You moaned. "Kyle.." You whined, "Be a good girl for me" he whispered into my ear, feeling his balls on my ass. He took your arm, as you held his. As he thrusts up into you, you moaned out. More waves of pleasure coming through you.

"I'm going to cum" He groans, "Hold on, Kyle..wait" He stopped, as took his dick out of you, "Lemme satisfy you, please" Pushing him onto the mattress, lifting yourself onto his dick, you bit your lips, before rolling your hips. You looked down at him, his face red. He was stimulated a lot. Moving your hips quickly, his hands on your hips. Helping speed up his orgasm, "Fuck" He groaned.

Before you felt hot loads coming into you. Your body shaking as he filled you up. His hands gripping harsher to you, you knew it was going to leave marks. Feeling tired, as shook before him, "God" he groaned, you almost fell to the side, before he held you still. Falling down on his chest, his hands still on your hips.

"Kyle.." You breathed out, "I—I love you" You traced his chest, his body was like some Greek statue, muscular and lean but just right. His hands rubbed your back, "I love you too, Y/N" He said, "Wait, you cummed in me" A panic set in you, as you looked at him, "Maybe you can bare me a son" He chuckled, "Kyle!" You exclaimed, laying back down on his chest.

"Marriage first, my king" You flickered my eyes down, feeling shy around despite doing the birds and bees. He picked up my hand and put it with his, as he measured hand sizes, rubbing my fingers.

"A perfect ring for a beautiful queen," he said, You giggled, smiling at his words.

Your heart really did belong to him, your body, soul, and heart to him, and you didn't think of any other candidate to allow to pregnant you, just him.

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dragonworshippersblog · 7 months

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“Alicent crown aegon because she wanted to protect her children“

Let us go and analyze the situation in the seven kingdoms to see why starting a war was the stupidest thing Alicent could do for her children. In the great council that established Viserys as heir to the throne we see how the starks voted for rhaenys, so there is a great probability that they would do the same by supporting rhaenyra and if the starks support her and go to war, then the north will follow. Then there is House Arryn, which is ruled by Jeyne Arryn, a woman appointed heir who has had to fight all her life for her inheritance continually challenged by her cousin Arnold Arryn, so very sensitive to being challenged just because she is a woman (and related to rhaenyra on her mother's side). Then there are the velaryons, at the time of the events corlys is mortally wounded, so it is rhaenys who is in charge instead of him, and we can all agree that there are two things that are most important to her: baela and rhaena, engaged to rhaenyra's eldest sons. Rhaenys does not particularly like rhaenyra because she believes her to be responsible for the death of her son, however, she would never give up seeing her beloved granddaughters as queen to the Iron Throne and lady of Driftmark. All the houses mentioned possess either an army or ships. And in this context it is easy to assume that they would side with rhaenyra. Nevertheless alicent, although aware of the impending war since she herself at the green council said "She will never bend the knee [rhaenyra] nor daemon you know" decides to crown aegon. The sons of alicent own dragons, so it is normal that they will fight; alicent thus puts her sons at risk because the fact that they ride dragons does not make them immune to death (Princess rhaenys in the attempted conquest of dorne owned a big dragon and look how that turned out). Also it would be a utopia to think that in the case of winning the war the green faction would come out completely unscathed, in history it almost never happens. Even if we absurdly assume that no house would support rhaenyra, they still have dragons and it is possible to assume an attack on king's landing to take the city (as rhaenys did, which would make it impossible for aegon and aemond to take their dragons to counterattack). So, on one hand we have Alicent which force her children to go to war (aegon himself didn't want the throne) and on the other we have rhaenyra which tried to unite the family by proposing a betroal and try to avoid disagreement (in this context she also give an inheritance to Haelena, Alicent's daughter who, according to Viserys' will, would not have inherited anything). Who is putting Alicent's children in danger?

#anti alicent stans #lady alicent #anti alicent hightower #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #house hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #haelena targaryen #king viserys #viserys targaryen #cregan stark #King daemon targaryen

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justanotherthrowaway1950 · 5 months

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Why I Dislike Amon and Kuvira

Note: While I don’t think The Legend of Korra (TLOK) is as good as Avatar: The Last Airbender (ATLA), I still think it is a pretty good show, and that 99.9% of its problems can be traced to Nick not giving Bryke a full four seasons with a proper budget from the outset. However, I don’t think any piece of fiction is perfect, hence why I criticize TLOK like I do ATLA.

Amon and Kuvira are two characters who are important to TLOK’s narrative not only on an individual, character level, but also because they represent previously unaddressed social issues in ATLA’s world as well.

This is because in Amon’s case, the Equalist movement he heads deals with an important issue that the original ATLA glosses over at best: the issue of benders being innately superior to non-benders.

Or more specifically, the fact that, unless you are a highly trained and/or highly gifted non-bender like Piandao, Mai, Ty Lee, Suki, or Sokka, your bog standard bender who has the slightest amount of training has a nigh-insurmountable power advantage, and thus has every incentive to lord their unearned power over non-benders.

Meanwhile, Kuvira deals with an issue that up until her becoming the main villain of Season 4 was barely addressed in TLOK’s intro and glossed over in the ATLA comics: how would Earth Kingdomers feel about the United Republic being formed from the Fire Nation’s oldest Earth Kingdom colonies.

Or more specifically, how, after getting pressured by Fire National colonialists and those close to them, King Kuei and Avatar Aang worked with Fire Lord Zuko to give the oldest colonists the option of self-determination, which they exercised to form the United Republic.

This, even though the oldest colonies were dominated politically and economically by the Fire Nationalist colonists and their close allies, with the marginalized Earth Kingdomer masses having little to no say in regards to the above mentioned process.

(If you disagree with my characterization of how Earth Kingdomers would view the resolution of the Yu Dao crisis, please check out The Problem with Yu Dao and A Potential Solution where I go into much more detail about this topic.)

However, it is precisely because Amon and Kuvira represent previously unaddressed social issues in ATLA’s world that I dislike them.

For in Amon’s case, before his identity was revealed, I was interested to see how the Krew would defeat him, let alone defeat the Equalist Movement since it wasn’t a problem that could be punched.

However, after his identity was revealed, I quickly soured on his character since, with him being a psychic, 24/7 bloodbender, it became apparent that the only way to beat him would be having an Avatar State Korra fight him or through a deus ex machina, with the latter being the way how he was defeated.

And I started disliking him once it became clear that the Equalist movement died off just because he was exposed as a fraud and Republic City’s all-bender council got replaced by a democratically elected unitary executive, one who so far has been non-benders due to non-benders numerical dominance.

This is because the underlying issue of benders having an innate advantage over non-benders never really got resolved, and so I hate how Amon’s character was used to avoid a real discussion or give any real solutions to said problem.

Especially since in real life, even if a movement’s leader is exposed as a fraud, the movement, or at least some variation of it, will continue to persist since movements, or more specifically, underlying issues in society, create leaders, not the other way around.

Meanwhile, I dislike Kuvira because, despite growing up in a world where the horrors of the Hundred Year War and the failures of the Hundred Year War era Fire Nation were surely taught to children like her, she decided to repeat them with her concentration camps and illegal and immoral war of conquest.

(Yes, I know canonically Kuvira did not know about the concentration camps, but even if that is the case, I still hold her responsible for them.)

(This is because commanders/generals in the real world are responsible for the actions of their subordinates when it comes to war crimes, and more generally, leaders are generally responsible for the actions of their subordinates when their subordinates are acting within the scope of their relationship. Thus, I hold her to that standard, even if the war crimes tribunal of the United Republic doesn’t.)

(Also, her attempt to retake the United Republic was an illegal and immoral war of conquest since the United Republic had been a sovereign state for over 70 years, with its sovereignty recognized by all the other nations in the world, including the Earth Empire’s predecessor, the Earth Kingdom. Moreover, even if it hasn’t been said explicitly yet in canon material, I am pretty sure in the 70-odd years between the end of ATLA and the start of TLOK the five nations signed treaties making wars of conquest illegal.)

This, even though her adopted grandma fought in the War and was friends with Fire Nationals who grew up in the Hundred Year War era Fire Nation, and more likely than not told her about her and her Fire National friends experiences.

And why does she do all that? Not because she actually believes that the way the United Republic was formed was immoral and an act of injustice against the Earth Kingdom, but because of unresolved abandonment issues.

And when she “redeems” herself, she does the bare minimum before finally admitting her fault and getting house arrest in Zafou, the closest thing to paradise on Earth.

I thought Kuvira could have been used to tell a story about the evils of revanchism, and how an inability to let go of past territorial injustices and focus on the present leads people to becoming the very monsters they claim to be fighting against.

That and what steps an authoritarian conqueror would have to take to credibly redeem themselves not only in the world’s eyes, but also in the eyes of their people, who they betrayed and misled with their lies about peace and prosperity through violence and subjugation.

Instead, we instead essentially get a sane, adult Azula who doesn’t have the excuse of indoctrination and got a really undeserved and unearned redemption that fanfics often give to a heavily woobified Azula.

This, all while never directly addressing the Earth Kingdom’s lingering resentment towards the United Republic, nor ever giving a concrete resolution to said resentment.

So to conclude, I dislike Amon and Kuvira’s characters because the resolution of their arcs were not only unsatisfying on a personal level, but also ruined the potential to meaningfully address key issues present in TLOK’s world, thus weakening TLOK as a whole.

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centrally-unplanned · 3 months

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Could you elaborate on when Israel was legitimately under threat of conquest? I thought they were always militarily superior?

In recent years yes, but they didn't started that way. They double+ did not start that way in 1948! But it does require clarification. The Arab-Israeli war was intensely lopsided:

The population of the countries arrayed against Israeli was easily 10 to 1; with far more equipment and resources at their disposal. And while how much of this was rhetoric vs reality is intensely disputed, the Arab League put out many statements for public consumption of their intent to expel the Jewish population and ~maybe kill them all, so given the lopsided numbers and the rhetoric of ethnic cleansing you can see how this war would be seen, both in Israel and abroad, as existential.

Now, it turned out in this conflict the Arab states were a bunch of bickering idiots, far more invested to their selfish ambitions and personal vendettas, and commanding famously incompetent armies. They were highly non-committal to the operation; the tiny Israeli population actually fielded a larger army than the whole Arab coalition, and Jordan for example marched in, annexed, the West Bank, then promptly stopped fighting. So Israel won the war handily; but you really can't take this too far. If these countries ever decided to stop being incompetent morons, then it would be a very different story - their combined resources vastly overwhelmed Israel's, and the geography of Israel means that the moment they lose once, they can lose permanently.

And through the 1950's up until about the 1970's, that threat was ever-present. Both sides were intensely aggressive to the others and in particular Egypt & Syria continued to have strong political forces pushing for military action. They were frequently supported by the Soviet Union giving them arms & aid; at one point Egypt and Syria actually united as one country! The United Arab Republic, 1958 to 1961, and Israel was a strong motive for that union (though Jordan was more of one), only undone by a coup in Syria in 1961. Israel faced insurgent attacks on civilians sponsored openly by its neighbors all through the 1950's and 1960's, and fights three major wars against Egypt and sometimes Syria - in particular in the Yom Kippur War Israel suffers some its first major defeats at the hands of Egypt, showing their growing strength. At this point its not actually in the cards for anyone to 'remove' Israel, but Egypt & Syria still haven't recognized Israel as a country, so the tension is still very high. Israel does a ton of shit too ofc, taking sides isn't the point; you can just see that the situation is very tense, and Israel is up against countries that vastly outnumber it and are always one bad battle away from occupying the small country. This is only 'safe' if you constantly presume incompetence on Egypt, Syria, & Jordan's part; that isn't a safe assumption.

After 1973, however, the US and others help broker a permanent peace between Egypt & Israel, which culminates in the 1978 Camp David accords and Egypt recognizes Israel. They have been at peace since. Also fun fact, this is part of why the US gives annual blank check military aid to Israel - we give military aid to Egypt too, still do to this day! We essentially bribed them into making peace. But anyway, after this Israel never faces a real threat from a large state army; instead its all terrorist organizations in Lebanon and stuff like that. So in the 1970's through to the 1990's the Israeli security situation shifts from being surrounded by large countries actively organizing military operations against them to every single one of them abandoning that goal, and pushing for things like a two state solution in Palestine instead.

So to move to opinions, you can see how from 1948 to 1978, once the fallout from the formation of Israel is settled and you aren't gonna try to eliminate a sovereign nation because that is what we call a bad idea, there are going to be a lot of moments where you need to back Israel to keep the peace (like if the USSR is pumping weapons into Egypt, its the Cold War, you balance it). US policy towards Israel, alongside most European countries, is formed in this time around that dynamic. But in the modern era all these threats are gone - Jordan isn't going to try to conquer Israel, that is fucking ridiculous. But Israel still acts like that is a thing, like it needs "security space", and like its military isn't vastly superior and its neighbors aren't trying anymore to compete with that. And US policy is locked into indulging that.

#i/p conflict

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officiallordvetinari · 4 months

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I know you've all been waiting eagerly for it, and here it is: the first Wikipedia poll of the new year! Links and summaries below the cut as always.

On 29 September 1940, a mid-air collision occurred over Brocklesby, New South Wales, Australia. The accident was unusual in that the aircraft involved, two Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) Avro Ansons of No. 2 Service Flying Training School, remained locked together after colliding, and then landed safely.

On 11 May 1812, at about 5:15 pm, Spencer Perceval, the prime minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, was shot dead in the lobby of the House of Commons by John Bellingham, a Liverpool merchant with a grievance against the government. Bellingham was detained; four days after the murder, he was tried, convicted and sentenced to death.

The Dorset Ooser (/ˈoʊsər/) is a wooden head that featured in the 19th-century folk culture of Melbury Osmond, a village in the southwestern English county of Dorset. The head was hollow, thus perhaps serving as a mask, and included a humanoid face with horns, a beard, and a hinged jaw which allowed the mouth to open and close.

The Ediacaran (/ˌiːdiˈækərən/; formerly Vendian) biota is a taxonomic period classification that consists of all life forms that were present on Earth during the Ediacaran Period (c. 635–538.8 Mya). These were enigmatic tubular and frond-shaped, mostly sessile, organisms. Trace fossils of these organisms have been found worldwide, and represent the earliest known complex multicellular organisms.

John Rykener, also known as Eleanor, was a 14th-century sex worker arrested in December 1394 for performing a sex act with John Britby, a man who was a former chaplain of the St Margaret Pattens church, in London's Cheapside while wearing female attire. Although historians tentatively link Rykener, who was male, to a prisoner of the same name, the only known facts of the sex worker's life come from an interrogation made by the mayor of London.

Norwich Market (also known as Norwich Provision Market) is an outdoor market consisting of around 200 stalls in central Norwich, England. Founded in the latter part of the 11th century to supply Norman merchants and settlers moving to the area following the Norman conquest of England, it replaced an earlier market a short distance away. It has been in operation on the present site for over 900 years.

Olive Elaine Morris (26 June 1952 – 12 July 1979) was a Jamaican-born British-based community leader and activist in the feminist, black nationalist, and squatters' rights campaigns of the 1970s. At the age of 17, she claimed she was assaulted by Metropolitan Police officers following an incident involving a Nigerian diplomat in Brixton, South London. She joined the British Black Panthers, becoming a Marxist–Leninist communist and a radical feminist.

Paul Palaiologos Tagaris (Greek: Παῦλος Παλαιολόγος Τάγαρις, c. 1320/1340 – after 1394) was a Byzantine Greek monk and impostor. A scion of the Tagaris family, Paul also claimed a somewhat dubious connection with the Palaiologos dynasty that ruled the Byzantine Empire at the time. He fled his marriage as a teenager and became a monk, but soon his fraudulent practices embroiled him in scandal.

The Royal baccarat scandal, also known as the Tranby Croft affair, was a British gambling scandal of the late 19th century involving the Prince of Wales—the future King Edward VII. The scandal started during a house party in September 1890, when Sir William Gordon-Cumming, a lieutenant colonel in the Scots Guards, was accused of cheating at baccarat.

In a protracted conflict during the Spanish colonization of the Americas, Spanish colonisers gradually incorporated the territory that became the modern country of Guatemala into the colonial Viceroyalty of New Spain. Before the conquest, this territory contained a number of competing Mesoamerican kingdoms, the majority of which were Maya.

#Wikipedia polls

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almoststedytimetravel · 7 months

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what if the rest of the lucina gang got sent to hoshido/nohr

Oh, bby girl you can't enable me like this...

Okay so, for balancing reasons you'd have to split the kids 50/50 so we need both Morgan's and some starting classes would have to be changed.

Hoshido

F!Morgan - Deviner/Skyknight

M!Morgan - Samurai/Sorcerer

Cynthia - Skyknight/Cavalier

Noire - Archer/Deviner

Kjelle - Spear master/Knight

Brady - Monk/Trubadour

Yarne - Apothecary/Taguel

F!Morgan gets deviner and M!Morgan gets Samurai because in their offical art M!Morgan was holding a sword and F!Morgan is holding a tome. Kjelle get's spear master because she starts with spears. I don't know why I chose Apothecary for Yarne, it just felt right. F!Morgan having Skyknight as her Heart Seal class is based on her heroes class being dark flier. Noire having deviner is in reference to her mother's class, deviner and not sorcerer because she's stated to be unskilled at dark magic. Yarne gets his base Taguel class back by heart sealing into it.

Nohr

Laurent - Sorcerer/Apothecary

Lucina - Mercenary/Spear master

Gerome - Wyvern rider/Ninja

Nah - Wyvern rider/Manakete

Inigo - Mercenary/Ninja

Severa - Mercenary/Skyknight

Owain - Sorcerer/Samurai

Nah gets wyvern rider because she's a dragon and I think that woulds be funny. Also I think Laurent should be able to wear the slutty sorcerer fit, I think it would be funny. Mercenary is the only Nohrian class that starts with swords so that's what Lucina gets she ger spear master because lords get lances on promote in Awakening. I feel like Ninja fits Gerome personality wise.

I think only the original trio would be retainers to the royals everyone else would be doing something different. I think the Morgan's would be Azura's equivalent of Flora/Felicia. Twins who serve as Azura's maids/bodyguards which would also make them neutral units. Cynthia would be a Skyknight stationed at the capital. I can see her being an early recruit in Birthright, like she joins you when you first leave the capital. I think Noire and Kjelle would all also be early game recruits while Yarne and Brady would be mid game recruits.

I actually think Nah and Gerome would be Neutral units serving in Cheve. They get auto recruited in birthright/revelations but need to be recruited in conquest by having one of the Awakening kids talk to them. It would be on the same map where you get Charlotte and Benny. It would also give the Awakening units two neutral units per nation. Laurent would join you after one of Corrin's returns to Krakenburg, best time I think would be when they get sent to the rainbow sage. Lucina I can also see being recruited durring the seven fold sanctuary map, perhaps having been sent a head by Xander.

This would also give five more child units for the male characters.

M!Morgan's child would have to have their own version of "Time to tip the scales!" and "Time to even the odds!" I think their gimmick would be remembering what happened in Heir's of Fate and have the starting class of ninja.

Yarne I can see having a child unit that's the complete oppisite of him, bold and reckless who gives him no end of heart attacks. staring class of Oni Savage

Laurent's child unit would be a detective, trying to solve mysteries like Miriel but rather then being a scientist they do dective work. The best starting class for that would be outlaw with Ninja for a heart seal class.

Brady's child unit would be a 'Sukeban' a sterotypical japanese female deliquent. But one who's quite skilled at the more 'high class' activities. Basically Brady but with the Japanese aesthetic and cultural influences because she'd be a Hoshiden unit

Gerome, child unit who has a wyvern named Maria. I think they would have conflict with Gerome baced on being in the deep realm. "I'd rather see you less often as you grew up rather than be stories for you to hear." vs. "I would have been satisfied with stories of you if it meant not being alone." A follow on from "I didn't want heroes I wanted my parents."

I also think they would have a mechanic where if you fight one of the Awakening kids with another they won't defeat each other but will leave each other at 1hp/they will miss any attack that would defeat them.

Oh and Noire would defiantly be able to S support Hayato and have unique dialogue with Rahjat

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crisiscutie · 11 months

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Sephology 101: The Nibelheim Incident

Welcome to the first unit of Sephology 101: The Nibelheim Incident. To remind everyone, darlings students are encouraged to submit their own scenarios or questions about Sephiroth. Warning: This is not SPOILER FREE.

The Nibelheim Incident was the defining moment that signified Sephiroth's fall to wickedness. This post will delve into the special endearing things that may lure Sephiroth away from the road of evil. This would be an extremely difficult task, as Sephiroth has (nearly) made up his mind at this point. There is potential for a glimmer of hope to prevent him. It is of the utmost importance to pick the right words in this instance. Not only is the logical appeal vital in this situation, but it is also necessary to make an emotional appeal to Sephiroth's needs.

After much research, Sephologists concluded that if Sephiroth was to be stopped, it must happen before he reaches Mt Nibel; therefore, the conclusion is that the following potential confrontations will occur in the library of the Shinra Manor. If a darling succeeds, then she will be granted access to the Domestic AU with the golden ticket. The Domestic AU results from the darling's successful heartfelt pleas to Sephiroth, ultimately causing him to forsake Shinra and build a life with her away from all the chaos.

If not, she may very well find herself in the (twisted) reunion, bad ending AU... In this AU, the darling, will find herself by Yandere Sephiroth's side as he starts his conquest of the planet...

Or an even worse ending: she is the very first casualty of the Nibelheim Incident.

Sephiroth will be cruel to his darlings, with his words and maybe even with his actions… But the darlings must remain courageous, dedicated and firm in bringing their Crisis Cutie back to them!

Here are the chances of some various darlings swaying Sephiroth. Any other darlings or potential scenarios? Don't forget to submit them via the Askbox to TA C.C.

Sephiroth's Angel: 8.5/10

She has a very strong possibility of influencing him in her favor. Sephiroth would struggle to ignore her words due to his strong relationship with her and Angeal. When speaking with this darling, it would be as if he and Angeal were speaking to each other again, providing Sephiroth with a possibility of divulging his true feelings. The last time Sephiroth saw Angeal was when the Genesis clones attacked the Shinra HQ, by the way. This is important.

Also, since this is Angeal's sister, you just know she can give one hell of a lecture to the Crisis Cutie. To even be aware of Sephiroth's mission to Nibelheim is her biggest challenge. At most, he'll vaguely mention to her that he's going away on a "mission" since Sephiroth likely doesn't like to talk about his SOLDIER business when spending time with his darling(s), even if he's suffering terribly. But Sephologists know that when tragedy strikes, the most essential thing a human being needs is to not feel alone in their suffering.

Sephologists decided that the only way she would find out about his Nibelheim mission would be through Zack, who had a special brotherly bond with her, despite being close in age. A perfect score is unattainable due to her lack of knowledge about the Nibelheim mission and also her potential fleeing from both Shinra and Genesis, who may be in search of her genetic information, even though she has not shown to be affected by Project G (as of yet). This fleeing may prevent less contact with Sephiroth during those two years since the deaths of her mother and brother.

To conclude: If she can find some way to intercept Sephiroth, then history is set; She will earn her golden ticket to the Domestic AU.

VALKYRIE Darling: 2.5/10

As some read in the Nibelheim Incident headcanons, this darling ultimately failed to sway Sephiroth, and instead, inevitably became a part of his and Jenova's plan for the big reunion...

Let me explain: this darling was already weak from her long imprisonment and illness. Sephiroth's recognition of that set the groundwork for an unfavorable arrangement. Sephiroth also perceived her confinement as abandonment.

This darling wasn't exactly stable as well. Her own trauma caught up to her, and she didn't know what much to say to Sephiroth. She got too close to him and… he lashed out at her. She had no other option but to offer herself. So, Jenova saw this as an opportunity to use her as a signal to call him to her again, leading directly to the Nibelheim Incident

Sephiroth, in his fractured mental state, considered the VALKYRIE Darling a vital element in his pursuit of "reunion" because Jenova choose her as a messenger to him. In his mind, this is akin to Darling getting a mark of approval from his mother dearest, so he chose to spare her.

Another factor that holds her back: her identity: The angel darling will be secure in her identity, in stark comparison to this darling's own, as she was consumed with her obsession for Sephiroth. She didn't resist or challenge him. Her body containing Sephiroth's cells, which reacted to his malicious energy, does not bring any relief to the problem.

This darling unfortunately got the bad ending, the twisted (reunion) AU.

SOLDIER Darling: 5.5/10

Outside of Valkyrie verse, (Valkyrie is a subbranch of SOLDIER for those who are curious), a regular SOLDIER Darling can go either way in swaying Sephiroth. She may have a greater sense of self than the Valkyrie Darling.

She could tell Sephiroth that she was a victim to Shinra's lies and destruction, like he was. If she can successfully empathize with him, then she could definitely temper his rage by encouraging him to discover more information with her, together, and maybe convince him down the line that destroying the planet isn’t something a true mother would want him to do.

This darling could get the golden ending or the bad ending, who knows?

(This also depends on her ranking. A first class Darling is more likely to be Sephiroth's darling than a 3rd.)

Civilian Darling: 0/10

No chance. She doesn't have that SOLDIER background (like VALKYRIE or SOLDIER darling) or that deep connection to a loved one (like the Angel darling) to make a difference to Sephiroth. She may very well be the first casualty to the Nibelheim Incident, if she were to survive the heartbreak...

This darling wouldn't be able to get either ending.

HoS Darling: ???/10

Who knows? She's not even meant to be with him in that manor. And at that point in time anyway...Sephiroth may be overwhelmed to the point of his knees buckling and a splitting headache upon sensing her connection to Jenova. Sephiroth might even think she IS Jenova…

Any other darlings or potential scenarios? Don't forget to submit them via the Askbox to TA C.C.

Next post in the Nibelheim Incident unit, we'll be delving into Sephiroth's psychology right before and during said event.

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #sephology 101 #house of sephiroth au #project v: valkyrie #Sephiroth's Angel AU #domestic au #final fantasy vii

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febrainrot · 7 months

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okay real talk has anyone used the bow knights in Fates and Awakening? They always felt so lackluster both stat wise and skill wise compared to the sniper or adventurers. Rally skill is fine, but generally not what I would go for for my archer unit, and only really interesting to grab before switching to a better class. The shurikenbreaker skill isn't necessarily bad but shuriken units either don't have the strength to really affect your unit beside pretty minor stat reductions for units that already should get hit, have such high hit rate that the skill is unreliable, or both. The trickster's lucky seven is good for strong starts, and pass offers a lot of strategies, and while the bow knight is stronger, they have good utility with staves, and their resistance is better, while the bow knight's strength is still very weak. The sniper is extremely powerful and with phenomenal skills (certain blow absolutely obliterates elusive opponents and bowfaire only highlights their strength). Of course the bowknight has the range of a mounted unit, but....you don't really want to have your archer go too far ahead. Sure their sword is useful in that scenario but then they can be replaced by a regular cavalier, who will have even more variety for close combat.

As if it wasn't enough, the people who can actually access that class directly tend to function better in other classes: Niles is a very magic and resistance oriented unit so adventurer is the most logical choice for him. Laslow just works better in nearly every way as a hero, Selena could technically work there but again, is better as a hero, and if you want her to use bows the fact she's the only conquest unit to be able to be a Kinshi Knight which is a relatively solid class gives you a relatively better option even for this (the only drawback being having to start at E rank for lances). Soleil is a better ninja most of the times, but also has access to a lot of different classes depending of the mother. Nina is as magic oriented as her father if not more depending of her mother, and Anna benefits from the higher luck classes she has access to. It doesn't fit Flora or Felicia, As stated before Silas is probably better off as a great knight or paladin (or even hero), and don't pretend you would use Gunter.

I did make a bow knight Sophie build that ended up being somewhat correct with farming: with Azura as a mother, she ends up being a high skill high speed okay strength unit with Luna which activates often thanks to her skill, replicate from Silas befriending Kaze and renewal from her mother, leading to an actually viable Luna reliant dodgetank that can cover two areas (I believe I also gave her Sol lower on the skill list so it wouldn't get in the way of Luna, which activates enough to have her heal). Along with her personal skill lowering enemy defence, she manages to be both capable of surviving a fair amount of attacks on enemy turn AND dealing either massive damage with a killer weapon and/or luna or only deal a limited amount but lowering the enemy defence to play chip damage.

another build I want to try (gotta get a computer that can run citra first...) is bow knight Takumi. However the only way to get Takumi that class is by marrying a Corrin with mercenary/thief secondary class. My reasoning is that Takumi's personal growth and fujin yumi are already strong enough to carry him even in a class less fit for him, and that the fujin yumi cancelling terrain movement limitations would go very well with a mounted unit (while they are kinda redundant with a flyer, and come with more weaknesses). Maybe grab Sol if you opted for mercenary, or lucky seven & pass, then the usual Takumi strats and you now have a Takumi that has more movement than a sniper, none of the weaknesses of a kinshi, and not affected by terrains unlike mounted units.

#fire emblem #fe14 #fe fates #fire emblem fates

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arthurdrakoni · 7 months

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Flag of the Republic of Ezo

This is the flag of the Republic of Ezo. It comes from a world where the Boshin War went slightly more favorably for the Shogunate forces. As a result, the Meiji government was forced to, at least temporarily, recognize the Republic of Ezo. It wasn't long before the Japanese declared war on Ezo once again. However, the Satsuma Rebellion still happened and was a lot more widespread, emboldened by Ezo's success. The Meiji government was forced to focus on quelling the Satsuma Rebellion. Ezo was able to find support from France and Russia to help protect them from the Japanese. Eventually, Japan had no choice but to formally recognize the Ezo government.

In response to Ezo's alliance with France and Russia, Japan strengthened its ties to Britain and Germany. Following their failure to capture Hokkaido, the Japanese turned their attention to Korea. Ezo, under the command of the recently defected Saigo Takamori, also sent an expedition to conquer Korea. Korea was able to play Japan and Ezo off of each other, and was able to maintain its independence. In time, Korea was able to modernize and industrialize like Japan had. Japan was humbled by its failure in Korea, and the Japanese were forced to focus more on domestic policy than foreign conquest.

Ezo also pursued a policy of isolationism following the failed expedition to Korea. Some industrialization was a necessary evil, but on the whole Ezo strived to maintain as much of its traditional culture and way of life as possible. As time went on, however, Ezo began to increasingly fall under French influence. In many way, it could be said that Ezo had become a French protectorate.

World War I started off around the same time, and with very similar circumstances, as our world. However, in this world Japan fought for the Central Powers. The Japanese were bitter at the British for selling weapons to Ezo, resentful growing opposition to the creeping British influence on Japanese society, and their alliance with Germany was as strong as ever. Ezo initially tried to remain neutral, but a surprise Japanese attack prompted Ezo to join the Entente Powers. The war ended in an Entente victory. Japan was placed under crushing reparations to Ezo, and was forced to cease land in northern Japan to Ezo.

Japan began to grow resentful against Ezo, and began to rearm for another war. Ezo and Korea were subjected to a series of harsh bombing campaigns. It wasn't long before Ezo and Korea were forced to surrender and formerly occupied by Japan. The Japanese continued to expand their influence across East Asia and the Pacific. It wasn't long, however, before they found themselves in conflict with the United States. Like in our world, the war ended in an American victory.

Ezo regained its independence following the war. Though there is still bad blood between Ezo and Japan, the two nations are slowly putting their past behind them. There is a movement to reunify Ezo and Japan into a single nation, but it doesn't have much support at the moment. Still, you never know what the future might hold.

The flag is black and white in reference to the flag of the Tokugawa Shogunate, and the seven-pointed star stands for the spirit of the Ezo people.

Link to the original flag on my blog: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2017/10/flag-of-republic-of-ezo.html?m=1

#alternate history #alternate history flag #alternate history flags #alt history #vexillology #flags #flag #Japan #Ezo #Hokkaido #Republic of Ezo #Flag of the Republic of Ezo #Satsuma Rebellion #Boshin War #Samurai #Shogunate #meiji restoration #Saigo Takamori

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thewitchqueenofharrenhal · 1 year

Note

It's so funny to me that all Targs do is brag and only take take take and think they are better than everyone else because of blood/fire magic and dragons and then you have Martells who don't brag, who are not interested in conquesting all Westeros, they are fine with having only Dorne, so they are not greedy to have all continent bow to them, they have absolutely unique bond with smallfolk (meaning they actaully have been caring for their people because dornish smallfolk doesn't seem as those who would be ready to go for a war for members of house Nymeros Martell if all Martells ever did was wave to them while travelling across Dorne), they most surely have worked hard to keep Dorne united so houses won't rebel like during Blackfyre rebellions, they are fine with having bastards (Oberyn legitimizing his daughters surely wasn't the first situation like this), princes and princesses are mostly wed to members of dornish houses so they could still have lovers if they want because lords from other parts of Westeros won't allow them, so they simply don't marry them XD if Oberyn was so serious about legitimizing his kids and giving them education I imagine every prince and every princess of house Martell is very good educated; and last thing - they never start a war. It's always others (mostly Targs) and Dorne always knows how to resist them and they show Targs they won't dictate them anything or make demands. I could write 100 reasons why Martells are the best house XD I love them so much and I think secretly Targs either hate them or love them. Either way, they are the best

All I heard was stan House Martell 🤝❤️

Lol but no seriously I genuinely adore House Targaryen I just don’t particularly like the fanon House Targaryen.

Let’s talk about the sins of old Valyria and it’s doom potentially following House Targaryen to Westeros. Let’s talk about a family that no longer has that reported “blood magic” and instead is desperately holding on to the dragon power by forcing siblings to wed one another consequences be damned and under the guise of “uniqueness”. What desperation must have creeped in when a family that prides themselves in being “above men” found themselves with no dragons. Egg Targaryen who we meet so young and so clever and so full of longing to change the world bringing his family just for the Tragedy of Summerhall to occur!. Little Daenerys Targaryen alone in the world bringing the glory of her house back into being on the pyre of an enslaved woman. It would be remiss to discard how interesting House Targaryen can be.

I think there is a clear difference with the Nymeria seeking sanctuary and a home from the Valyrian slavers and Aegon and his sisters seeking to conquer all based on a reported “dream”.

House Martell definitely does have a unique almost symbiotic relationship with their smallfolk and I wish people would talk about it more. That’s not to say certain Targaryens didn’t earn the love of their people.

Dorne is incredibly unique and light years ahead of most of Westeros. I actually don’t believe any sand snake is legitimatized they are still bastards but they lived a far more privileged life than a regular bastard akin to Jon Snow. Oberyn is unique in training his daughters both in Education and Warcraft.

I can’t see why Dornish houses would want to marry outside it’s border without big benefits such as Myriah and Dyanna two famous Dornish ladies who wed into House Targaryen.

The most feral Targ Stan’s will never forgive House Martell for repeatedly saying ✨ No ✨and backing up their words - Rhaenys Targaryen anyone? But Dorne is one of the biggest examples of House Targaryen attempting to subjugate and force themselves upon a region that did not want them. This is especially showcased in the fact that it’s Dorne smallfolk who led the fight against them not nobles. It’s also very interesting to me that folks love to counter claims of House Targaryen being colonizers by pointing out that they wanted to adopt Westerosi customs, its a real shame they didn’t want to adopt customs popular in Dorne such as absolute primogeniture and outlawing domestic violence. Could have saved them the dance of dragons and ridiculous concepts such as the rule of six 🫢

I’m ethnic so I immediately found myself extremely fond of the folks who resisted against the “magical white people who know better” lol.

House Martell is my favorite house so I am biased in saying I agree lol 🤝 House Targaryen absolutely loves them lol - they had to marry them to get to join their kingdom, not to mention Baelor Breakspear was the best king that House Targaryen could have ever had and he was the son of a Martell woman.

Targ Stan’s absolutely love House Martell too lmao it’s why every week they make their bitter posts about how uncool Nymeria and Meria Martell were only too change their tune the following week to parrot George’s words comparing Daenerys to Nymeria or claiming Meria as a Daenerys ancestor. Don’t even get me started on the absolute rageeeee Elia of Dorne illicits from them until they remember she was Daenerys’s aunt of course.

Alas it’s all very silly stan culture bleeding into media and it’s frankly VERY silly to follow when trying to enjoy something like Asoiaf.

#anon #pro house martell #anti house targaryen #not really #but tagging so no one cries lol

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danses-with-dogmeat · 1 year

Note

Congrats on 1.5k! Could I get nightstalker 🐍🐕 for elder maxson please? Last name. :)

Thank you! And yes, absolutely!

I hope you enjoy :)

Some NSFW below the line!

M) Marriage. Do they want to get married? How long do they have to be in the relationship beforehand? What would the marriage be like?

Arthur absolutely wants to get married. That was always his intent with any of his conquests of a more romantic nature, but with you... He finally has a reason to really want to get married. It would be becoming of him, as Elder, to be married, rather than having casual, unprofessional relationships, and that's always what it was. It was, like so many things, expected of him. But it doesn't take him too long to realize that it's something he truly wants.

Maxson is young, so a year seems like a long time, even if it really isn't. A year in is when he starts thinking about proposing, and he really hopes for your relationship to remain relatively unchanged. You're already facing the Brotherhood's problems as a team, and tackling your lives together, as a unit, and he would only want that feeling of closeness to be more prevalent after your official union. However... He does want to take the new opportunity, of your legally recognized relationship, to start a family. Partly because that too is his duty, but also, because he truly does want it.

A) Attention. How much attention do they want in the relationship?

Maxson is... unused to not being the center of attention. It's an occupational hazard, of sorts, so despite what impression he may want to give off, he likes to be on the receiving end of the attentions in the relationship. Mostly in private, of course. On the outside, he wants your relationship to appear very practical and effective, but not overly affectionate or excessive. Inside the comfort of his own quarters though? Arthur actually tends to be quite dependent. He's had so few close, meaningful relationships in his life that have had any semblance of affection. Mostly, he's been lectured at or reprimanded all his life, so having you now? Someone who supports him, who lets him be authentic and vulnerable? It takes a lot of getting used to, and you'll have to be patient to see him really open up, but Arthur comes to rely on your closeness to him, your attention, and your care for his well-being.

X) Explicit. An NSFW headcannon.

Remember how "starting a family" is on Maxson's list of duties? And his list of personal wants? Well, turns out that translates pretty well into his bedroom activities.

If his partner is female, Maxson has one hell of a breeding kink that could damn near get him in trouble before the two of you are married. He can't help but harbor a need to carry on his family's legacy, but more than that... The thought of being tied with someone in this way, of having something this significant come from him, and be only his? (well, and yours, but...) Everything in his life that he's had to be proud of seems like it's not really his. He's just living in the shadow of his father's name. He's doing what's expected of him, and nothing is solely his, but rather, his family's and the Brotherhood's. And maybe his child would hold those ties as well, but they also wouldn't exist without him, and ultimately, it was his choice to bring them into the world.

Even with a male partner, Maxson craves this closeness, this feeling of possessiveness that comes with something so intimate as finishing inside you. So this added feeling that comes with it, like he's marked you as his, that comes into play as well, no matter the gender of his partner.

S) Sad. How do they cheer their s/o up when they are feeling down? How do they like to be cheered up?

It takes Arthur longer than he would like to actually notice when something's off with you, he just has so many things on his mind all at once, but when he does, he drops what he's doing to help. Though, he's not sure he's the best to come to. He may suggest speaking to Knight-Captain Cade, or another counselor to talk through your problems, but if it's him you want to comfort you... He'll do what he can. He's not the best listener in the world, but he'll try if you want to talk it out; mostly though, Arthur will give you some words of encouragement and simply stick by your side until you're feeling better.

As for himself, Maxson hides his sad feelings like they're something he should be ashamed of, and would rather deal with them on his own. If you do happen to catch him on one of his bad days though, odds are he's been drinking or sleep-deprived for awhile now, so though he won't say it (and he may even fight it a bit), he'll need you to take care of him. Make sure he's taking care of himself, drinking water, make sure he's clean, and then stay with him as you try to get him to take some much needed time to rest.

O) Open. How long does it take for them to open up to their s/o?

It takes, at the very least, months. Many closely guarded feelings or memories may not come out for years, even. But Maxson is... He's not used to speaking about himself on a personal level, unless he's in a professional, therapeutic session, but he's actually quite desperate to share himself with someone else. The Brotherhood Elder is more used to bottling up his feelings, or shoving them away where they can only reach him when he's alone and intoxicated, so the thought of sharing them... It's so foreign to him to consider doing, but when he becomes comfortable with you, these thoughts and feelings come out unbidden. He's so utterly desperate to be relieved of them, to be comforted by someone who actually cares about him as more than just the Brotherhood Elder, that they end up slipping out more and more often a few months into the relationship.

N) Nickname. What are the nicknames they have for their s/o? Do they like when their s/o uses nicknames?

Unfortunately, nicknames are mostly just awkward for the Elder. He's so used to referring to everyone by either their last name, or their rank. He's been doing that since before he can remember, so... the most intimate he tends to get is referring to you by your first name. He still uses your rank as well, mostly in public or... in the bedroom when he's in a certain authoritative sort of mood. The same goes for your last name, and when you do end up getting married he revels in calling you Mr./Mrs. Maxson. It's one of his favorite things. Otherwise, the most tender that his pet names tend to be is calling you babe or, very rarely, love.

As for himself, when you're in private, he doesn't mind you using pet names, so long as they're not too fluffy ('honey' is pushing it for him, even.) But he also can't help but feel warmth in his chest when you call him Arthur. (Calling him Art or Artie will make him blush, and you can never get him to admit it, but he actually doesn't mind the nicknames.) And again, when he's in a certain mood, nothing quite strokes his ego like you calling him Elder in the most intimate of settings.

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