#i'm quite done being diplomatic

[metabolizemotions]

They only fetishize queer people. Especially our pain. We are not real, entire human beings to them. The celebrate the straight couples - their relationship, intimacy n all; fetishize the bodies of queer men; n fetishize the idea of queer women.

The extent to which they tolerate our sexuality is the short snippets in promo clips. They only want to exploit our online engagement. Ironically our viewership might be bringing in the ad buyers who r trying to erase us.

They try to erase the specificity of the "queer" part, but only use the pain, the convenient stereotypes, the virtue-signaling part to gain brownie points n for good drama. They joke about cultural appropriation n did exactly that during the pride episode with the straight couple's proposal. Same-sex marriage. What are you talking about? It's about queer hate n straight allyship.

They capitalize on the "women" part, to further fetishize our biology. So if it's 2 women in a relationship - it's double the drama about making babies, bad genes, n jokes about hormones n our body parts. But it's 2 women, how can they possibly manage w/o "big, strong, sensitive", straight men with good genes to contribute n overflowing empathy to deal with them being emotional n hormonal?

It's 5b, it's pride, it's the burning man all over again. First they elevate Jack, now Beckett. Pride was about cheating queer men n high queer woman. An intimate scene of Marina must be minimized n hidden among the others' or edited to death in a montage. It's as scary as a man burning to death.

The fact that they haven't even shared a proper kiss this season through any joyful or emotional moment... They just come up with more ways to obscure the kiss, if any. Bad lighting, bad angles n bad editing are prerequisites. They r also written into the script.

Of course they make an important life decision in the NICU, n it's completely inappropriate for a married w|w to share a quick kiss - which we saw via the back of their heads. Unlike a gay man having sex with an ex at the funeral of the ex's dad - while cheating on his partner - twice. Perfectly lit with no obstructions of course.

Even in their ugly kitchen they're assigned, with a perfectly good scene setup, nope. Too brightly lit for queer woman - save it for a long morning kiss b/w gay men in their nice kitchen.

Emotional scene about Carina's fertility issues and reciprocal IVF - okay a kiss allowed grudgingly - but just 0.5 sec. Their lips touched. You get the idea. Why are you fans so demanding? Time is reserved for the 101th proposal of the straight couple n their extended kisses. A proper Marina love scene? You perverts. More explicit sex scenes b/w straight couples are needed.

I don't want to rehash about Jack. I've said plenty about Beckett. Just that men's mistakes are dismissed and minimized. It is not enough to show every painful step of Maya apologizing and making amends. Maya and Carina must also be used to make the audience sympathize with Jack and Beckett. It is a deliberate yet thoughtless choice to use Carina's SA trauma to sympathize with Jack. Just as it is to use Maya's family trauma to sympathize with Beckett. Esp the context of the shot. It is esp violating. They might as well just get Jack to show up for this. They never really got it, did they?

However one chooses to justify these choices, it's not only unnec but wrong to include the men. Esp not Beckett - the man who bullied her for months till her breakdown. Even if he never apologized and they insist on using Maya's pain to make him look good in his redemption arc, idc at this point, but this is just not the time.

If it must be a man, get Travis. Make it a conversation b/w queer people, about queer hate, about their families. Travis sympathizing with Maya, about a journey he wouldn't know about. Way better than jokes on hormones with the guys. A cheap way to get a laugh at an arduous process. I thought we left 5b n mocking queer women behind.

It could have been one beautiful scene with Andy and Vic. They haven't had a proper one since s1 & 2. They would have understood about Mason, if not for their long friendship, there's 703. It could have been about the pain women go thru - Andy and Vic about their abortions or Maya about experiencing what Carina underwent... The show really isn't big on female camaraderie.

But it should really be Carina. Among all the scenes of Carina in the station bathroom - which have been a lot - this is probably the most appropriate if they must set it there. Definitely more so that her own insemination, which was ridiculous.

These are moments that they should only share with each other, privately n intimately. These precious moments that are dwindling - few n short to begin with. It's not irl, it's one scene in an ensemble show. They sure could have romanticized this. It doesn't even have to be half as dramatic as a regular scene of their golden couple. D & S will create magic.

Esp in this episode, there's so much to unpack. With everything they've been thru on their own, the ending could have been about them at home, checking in n sharing their day. Talking about the lawsuit, the hate on queers, their brothers, the boundaries they had to set with their families... Doing the trigger shot together - esp after their emotional scene in 705 n to cap off the morning scene. A perfect setup for their emotional n physical intimacy.

But of course it didn't happen. Other important moments in their lives about their new home n new baby were also short parts of wordless montages. They are even less important than scenes of the others having drinks n sex.

Queer women just don't matter.

#sorry if i sound too negative or snarky #i'm quite done being diplomatic #i try not to rant cos usually i start it gets long #i'm just really tired #with the string of cancellations #n this last season #n this is what we're getting #this is not about my hate #it's about their hate of us #I really tried to be positive n happy about the show in general #n the good scenes the other characters get #believing marina will get their turn #but the bias against queer women is just so blatant #we're only asking to be treated fairly #i'm too tired to try to rationalize n defend their choices anymore #even with paige - travis's sl is filled with neg stereotypes #if they had a queer woman as showrunner this season #maybe it'll be slightly better #maybe she can insist that the nuances matter #but i think there's sth else happening bts #how is 10pm slot worse than 8pm... #not on twitter #but if there's backlash #marina fans will be blamed #we should be grateful for whatever? #station 19 comments #station 19

[vermillioncrown]

a wild minion² appeared! he ain't my problem again until next week

#my poor friend was stuck w him + 20 other ppl like him in this giant thesis formulation discussion #why i do not attend those giant circlejerk meetings #academic jerky #he had the audacity to msg me after yesterday's shutdown 'I feel like we are not quite on the same page right now.' #as if it's a semantics error and not just being wrong #(ofc i didn't fucking bitch him out and was very diplomatic in my reply but definitely had to pass out after that) #when you're wrong and you get to learn that's fine #when you're wrong and you 1) make other people confused #2) create more work because of the wrong approach to a problem #3) stubborness of understanding multiple explanations (not just from me to be quite clear) #i'm a pedantic bitch but there are only so many hours in a day and i only have so many spoons #i'd rather we all be correct and just get stuff done #but surprisingly today is good

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon King Headcanons

You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!

I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

[Main Story]

The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”

The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.

Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.

Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.

Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.

You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.

"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.

You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc

[ukrainian-psycho]

Everyone hates the Ventrue calling them boring and insufferable with their grindset-mindset and while most of it is true, if you dig into the clan's culture there isn't much that makes them worse than other clans really, there's a lot of endearing qualities that also explain why are they stupid like this. So here's some of my favorite facts and bits of the in clan lore (some of these traditions are applicable for cammies or for those in the clan-clan, done with the Agoge etc; an anarch ventrue obv doesn't have to follow no rule).

Blood preference is made up. It's in their head. There were incidents of a ventrue changing their preference, takes a huge effort but nothing says you can’t. Many ancient ones perished because there's no more Yugoslavian blood or whatever and they couldn't get used to any other. The biggest problem of the Clan of Kings is that they all think they all have an imaginary lactose intolerance they absolutely will die for.

Unlike other clans who let their progeny run around doing fuck all you are responsible for your childe. Providing for them first time, teaching them to hunt, all that regardless if they want to go through the Agoge or join the clan. As a capital V Ventrue you have to respect their choice. Being a deadbeat sire is generally frowned upon.

Actually, everyone in the clan feels entitled to your childe. Any clan member has the right to show up on your doorstep whenever because they thought of something profound to say to the fledgling or give you an advice on how to mentor them. Turning them away is impolite. Absolutely insufferable.

When in a serious trouble you can always ask a fellow clans-mate for help and even if they hate your ass they have to help and do a good job at that lest they want to lose some dignitas. You are expected to return the favor obviously.

Deathnights! 🥳🎉🎉. The thought that any kindred care for birthdays (or deathnights, the time you were embraced) is already silly but the fact that it's ventrues who care about this so much is especially funny. Yeah you sire sucks, but she invited Paris Hilton and got you a new car for your sweet 160. If it's an elder's deathnight you can even rizz them and it's all in good fun!

The general opinion that your local venture is an e*lon m*usk type o guy and not a gas station manager doesn't help. In the digital era even the most powerful ventrue have to influence from the shadows which is quite a hit on their ego. Others settle for less.

They are the smallest clan. The key to survival is resilience and mutual support. Trust no one, not even the other ventrue but you know they've got your back because you've got theirs. Fucked up, however "familial" bonds like sire-childe and such are much valued.

Wholesome-ish, ventrue cliques. Many looove chess and have chess clubs. Both as a hobby and often preferring to solve personal disputes over a game. Then, Philosophes and Diplomats. The first one is just a bunch of an armchair philosophers. The other can be considered as "progressive" and want to build bridges with other clans and think the Camarilla needs to be more cooperative and inviting. The elders often snark at the "friendly ventrues" but at the end of the night it is the Diplomats they send out to represent the clan and do the talking and make peace with others. There's also a club for neonates just to bitch about their hard unlife without the restrictions of the etiquette. Btw look up the Olympian clique on your own lmao, I'm not even delving into that.

And to be fair, there's so much etiquette. You're being told what to wear, what to gift, how to act.

don't argue with those younger than you, embarrassing them in the act. Don't argue with elders because it's disrespectful. Don't argue with your peers because arguing is stupid. If someone really pissed you off please submit a request to your closest ventrue primogen and wait 15-20 business nights to be informed if you have a go at killing their ass. This is not a joke. Always show up as a united front at all times.

Be respectful and treat other clans as you would have wanted to be treated. Even if they are ugly, annoying, or unhinged. At the end of the night the inquisition will come for all of us.

The Agoge sucks. Everyone hates it. It fucks you up but complaining is for pussies so drink some cocained up blood or get a therapist like everybody else. Suck it up.

Crying in the boardroom is not allowed. No public display of emotions or feelings is allowed. The purpose of it is to minimize the amount of conflict between each other and other clans but it's the next best thing to Lasombra's catholic guilt in terms of repressing yourself.

Older ones have a hard time keeping up with technology, the concept of email is on par with other paranormal forces. The Board risks their unlives traveling to an in-person meeting to resolve something that could have been a 10 minute conference call. If you are a neonate who knows what a DVR is you've got quite some power.

#vtm #vtm ventrue #vampire the masquerade #ventrue #pls read bc i checked in with the clanbook andthe camarilla book and the general e5 book to make sure its accurate #some venture dedicate themselves to help fledglings and neonates of any clan i just cant find what book was it from but isnt it sweet #i didnt include anything i want somewhat sure of

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 46: Lokabrenna

Summary: Loki makes an escape with you.

Word Count: 1,482

Author's Notes: We are back. 6 chapters to go and I'm going to do my best to keep to the once-a-week schedule.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Bruce Banner was a perfectly tolerable person to be around, probably. Loki could recognize this in an objective sense. He was polite, deferential even. Quite intelligent. He had a decent sense of humor, in a quiet sort of way. Easily the most amiable Avenger to have in one's company. Loki also knew, logically, that Bruce Banner and the Hulk were two separate entities that merely shared a common point of origin, on occasion. Still, despite all of this, when Loki was in the presence of the mild-mannered scientist he could think of little else aside from the marble floor of Stark's penthouse, and the sound it made as Loki passed through it.

As Bruce had stepped off the quinjet Valkyrie greeted him with a grin and a punch to the arm. "Hey, big guy." He responded with a nervous smile while rubbing his arm. "Hey." Before he had a chance to recover, Thor had swung in with one of his exuberant hugs. "Banner! Welcome back to New Asgard!" "Yeah, thanks, good to be here." Banner met Loki next and extended a hand. "Hey Loki, are you... uh, how are you?" The man seemed to be uncertain even of the question he was asking. Loki shook his hand, pleased that it seemed the discomfort wasn't entirely his to bear. "I'm well, Dr. Banner. And you?"

Loki had been made aware that Banner had played a key role in the Asgardians' escape from Ragnarok, and then Thanos after that. This explained the warm welcome he had received from the citizens of New Asgard. It did not explain the strange closeness he shared with the Valkyrie. It was Loki's understanding that she had sold the Hulk into slavery on Sakaar, yet they seemed to be on very friendly terms. There must be more to that story, but Loki considered that he may not want to know. Then again, she had also sold Thor into slavery and now she was essentially his advisor and lieutenant. Perhaps she was simply very gifted in making amends.

Part of the agreement that allowed the Æsir to settle here on Earth involved certain aspects of trade. They would be given a place to make their home, and in return the Asgardians would share their knowledge and technology with carefully-chosen human parties. Additionally, in exchange for allowing New Asgard to be built here specifically, several benefits of Stark Industries were being extended to the mortal town. Banner was here to oversee progress and move forward with these trades.

Blessedly, this meant that Loki's presence was not needed, as most of Banner's interactions were with the Æsir engineers and human officials. And so it was not much of an issue that Loki had somewhere else to be, and he quietly excused himself and slipped away from the clamor.

You had suggested another hike to spend the night on the mountain and Loki jumped at the opportunity. He hadn't told you of the dream he had when he was away at the compound, but the images from it had lingered in his mind. It was something he longed to recapture. You had invited Thor, but he declined, citing all the work that needed to be done. Loki had never been so grateful to his brother.

As he approached your cabin you were on the porch, laying out supplies that you would likely be asking Loki to transport. You straightened and smiled. "What took you so long?" "I beg your pardon." He leaned in to plant a quick kiss. "We received Bruce Banner along with a number of his apprentices today. I had to perform certain duties before I could diplomatically extricate myself." Your eyes lit up. "Bruce Banner? Bruce Banner is here?" Loki raised a brow. "Yes. He's here to learn of our technology and to grant us some of his." "Why didn't you tell me?" You turned your head toward New Asgard, peering down the road, as if you could see him from here. "Why is it of such keen interest?" "It's Bruce Banner! A world-renown scientist! The Hulk!" You eyes were still fixed down the road. Loki frowned. "Need I remind you that you dine with gods on a regular basis?" You waved dismissively. "Exactly, you're old news." He narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't test me today, little bird. Soon we will be isolated on a mountaintop, alone in the darkness, far from help." He pulled you in close. "I'll have you completely at my mercy." You bit your lip and grinned with a new excitement in your eyes. "You promise?" He chuckled, his nose grazing yours. "I would say I should teach you a lesson but something tells me you would be too willing a student."

You laughed as he released you, then turned back to the provisions you were organizing. "How long is Banner here?" "A few days, at least." "Great, we can have him for dinner tomorrow." He sighed. "Must we?" You smirked. "Aw, are you still sore from that time he beat you up?" You offered him a mocking pout. "Show me where it hurts." Loki sulked. "My pride, mostly." "Well, that's ideal. You've got plenty of that to spare." You straightened and swung a pack over your shoulder. "No reason why we can't be social." Loki folded his arms and leaned against the post of your porch. "Perhaps I simply prefer not to?" "Oh, don't worry." The mocking tone had returned to your voice. "It's just a little dinner. I promise I won't let the big scary monster get you." Loki glared. "One day, you will reach the edge of my patience." You grinned. "Not today? I'll keep looking for it." You gave him a conciliatory peck on the cheek. "Now magic up these supplies so we can hit the trail." "Your mortal frailty is the only reason I tolerate this treatment." Loki begrudgingly waved a hand and vanished the items, then followed you down the road to the trailhead.

The climb felt different this time. It felt almost clandestine with just the two of you. As if Loki was sneaking away from all of his troubles. Like you were leading him to a paradise where they didn't exist. The hike was easy, with light spirits and laughter.

You grew quiet as you reached the end, and stopped altogether before stepping out onto the terrace. You stood for a moment, looking out onto the outcrop, and it occurred to Loki that this would almost certainly be your first time here without Ash. He reached down and to your hand in his. After a moment you sighed, squeezed his hand, and managed a slight smile as you looked up at him. "Come on, let's go make camp."

After a brief stop to admire the view, the both of you set to work. You pitched the tent, Loki gathered firewood, though not nearly as much would be needed this time. Spring was waning and the nights were growing warmer. Dinner was cooked and shared, and afterward Loki found himself seated on the ground, his back against a boulder near the fire. You were stretched in front of him, with your back to his chest, your head resting back against him. His arms wrapped around you and in turn your arms held his. The two of you gazed out over the landscape, which was bathed in gold and shadow as the sun began its descent. A few quiet words were shared but it seemed agreed upon that this moment was meant to simply be absorbed.

Sequestered away here with you, this was exactly the peace Loki had craved. He wanted to tell you about his dream. He wanted you to know that for him the majesty of this place was intrinsically tied to you, so much so that when he was longing for you this is where his mind brought him in his sleep. It felt like something you should know.

Before he could find where to start, you raised a hand toward the horizon. "Hey look, your star is out." The sun had begun its retreat in earnest, and the first stars were making their appearances. Just above the horizon was the one you were pointing out. "Our star." He corrected. You turned your face toward him, a brow raised. "Our star?" He nodded. "You told me it was named 'Lokabrenna', correct? My burning?" You looked back to the horizon, as if the star could explain. "Yes, that's right." "Then it is our star." He assured, leaning forward to graze his lips against the shell of your ear. "For I burn for you." You turned to him again with a wild affection in your eyes, which he could only appreciate for a moment before you pulled him to you and kissed him with a fervor that was unexpected but immediately reciprocated.

Loki felt the rise of familiar flames.

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#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #mcu loki #loki mcu #slow burn #reader insert #loki thrown

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, semifinals of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:

you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together

Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."

You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.

For Legolas and Gimli:

They literally have a running competition between the two over who has more kills. And non-canon my ass, Legolas took Gimli to valinor

They kill alot of orcs together. They make it into a competition. Better minds than i have spoken about the couple ness

#losers bracket semifinals #word of honor #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #gimli #wen kexing #zhou zishu

[bi-bard]

Impressive - Nikolai Lantsov Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: Impressive

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov X Reader

Word Count: 1,760 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence

Summary: The four times Nikolai was desperate to impress (Y/n). And the one time that they could admit that he succeeded.

Author's Note: Kinda hate how much he grew on me so quickly.

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Number One:

I knew that one day I would have to cross the Fold again.

That did nothing to change how much I dreaded it. I was terrified of being stuck or killed. I could put on a brave enough face, but all I could think about when I thought of the Fold was all of the tragedy that accompanied it. The pain and death and misery. Not just my own, but the world around it.

That was enough to scare me to my core.

And then, Nikolai let us in on his method of getting across the fold.

Well, he didn't tell us anything. He showed us.

I watched as the ship shifted into a different machine that then separated from the rest of the ship. The sound of engines starting was accompanied by shaking and very little explanation.

"Oh, saints!" I wrapped an arm around the main pillar in the hopes of keeping myself steady. I looked over. I could see us moving upward. "Flying? Are you serious?"

"You sound impressed," Nikolai replied, lifting his arm so he could rest his elbow against the pillar next to me.

I glared at him for a moment. "Terrified."

"Oh, don't be," he waved off my worries. "We've made many improvements since the ones that crashed."

"Thank you," I said sarcastically. "The history of you crashing to the ground is unbelievably comforting."

He held his hand out to me. "Come here."

"I'm comfortable here-"

"(Y/n)," he pushed.

I took a deep breath and relented, placing my hand in his.

He pulled me over to the railing. He moved to grab my upper arms, holding me in place so I could look out at the view.

"What do you think," he asked.

"That I may vomit over the edge," I muttered.

"Lovely," he mumbled back before walking away. "Just don't lean too far over. I would hate for you to fall."

I looked at the distance below us before quickly stumbling away from the edge.

I heard a laugh behind me, causing me to glare at Nikolai again. He just smirked at me.

This time together was going to be far too long.

Number Two:

Finding out the truth about Nikolai and his family was a harsh shift for Alina, Mal, and myself.

I didn't get to confront him at first. Alina took that responsibility into her own hands by punching him.

With all of the people and information, I didn't get the chance to say anything until we were riding toward the Spinning Wheel.

"Were you ever going to tell us the truth," I asked as Nikolai moved to ride alongside me. "Or did you hope that it would never be a relevant conversation?"

He chuckled. "I will admit that I hadn't quite planned how I was going to tell you the truth."

I nodded.

"It was all in the hopes of doing good for the people I loved."

"Why would telling the three of us make any difference?"

"Would you have ever trusted me if I told you who my family was?"

"Do you honestly believe that I am inclined to trust you now?"

He paused. We each looked at each other for a few spare moments before I turned my attention back to the path before us.

"I will earn your trust," he said after a while.

"I will be very impressed if you manage that," I replied.

"Even more motivation to do so."

I turned to him again, but he had already started to look straight ahead with a smirk sitting on his lips.

I couldn't tell if I was irritated by his confidence or if I respected it.

Number Three:

Staying at the Spinning Wheel was an interesting experience.

There was no question of the tension in the air. After what the Darkling had done, the royal family and their soldiers weren't exactly supportive of Grisha's being among them.

Nikolai seemed insistent on making peace. Ever the diplomat.

Hence his proposal to Alina.

A move that admittedly caught me off-guard, but I had no comment about it. It wasn't my place to say anything about it.

I was standing off to the side of the feast, taking the time to allow my head to clear from all of the noise.

"I hope you aren't being scared away."

I looked over to see Nikolai walking over to me with a proud grin on his face.

"Not at all," I replied. "Basking in the pride of uniting two feuding people?"

"Oh, we both know Alina will have much more power in that endeavor," he looked down at his drink for a moment. "How are you? How is your stay treating you?"

"I am quite content," I explained. "May I ask why you were wondering? Surely, my comfort isn't at the top of your list of priorities."

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken... shouldn't you be more focused on your engagement," I asked, looking over at Alina.

He chuckled. "I would, but I find you far more interesting."

I looked back at him in shock. I couldn't find a word to say in response to that. I just froze for a moment. No sarcastic remark or insult could find its way to my lips.

"Careful," he mumbled. "You'll catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that."

I quickly closed my mouth and looked away from him.

"Quite impressed that I have the ability to render you speechless."

"Have a good night, Nikolai."

"You too, (Y/n)."

I had never been so embarrassed at how someone saying my name made me feel.

The prince was beginning to feel like a distraction.

Number Four:

I had no real reason for staying with Nikolai when the others went into the Fold.

I had merely held onto the belief that they didn't need me as much as he and his men did.

I was right, but that didn't mean that I had any power that could stand against the shadow monsters that the Darkling had created.

It felt senseless. Over half a dozen fighting one monster and making no progress.

I would have called it hopeless if the creature had pinned Nikolai to one of the pillars. After that, all I could feel was anger. Anger and fear.

Once the monster faded, all I could do was get to him as fast as I could. I had never been susceptible to such tunnel vision, but with Nikolai, it was different.

"Nikolai!"

I helped hold him up, so he was leaning up against the pillar. He was panting, his eyes wide. I had never seen such clear panic written on one person's face.

I grabbed the sides of his face so he would look at me. It took him a moment to recognize me, but when he did, his hands reached up and touched mine, holding them in place.

"Saints, you're alive," I muttered, feeling tears building in my eyes. I leaned my forehead on his, not putting any thought into the action. "You're alive!"

"You sound impressed," he mumbled back, smirking at me.

"You want to make jokes now," I asked, leaning away from him.

He simply shrugged, hissing at the pain in his shoulder.

"Come on," I said. "We need to go find the others."

He nodded, allowing me to help him off the ground.

I caught Tamar giving me a knowing look as I did so. I ignored it.

I had much more important things to worry about than whatever was between Nikolai and me.

And the Time He Succeeded:

I grinned at myself in the mirror.

It had been ages since I had found confidence in my own reflection, but if there were a day to find it, then Nikolai's coronation day was not the worst.

I had been so focused on admiring myself that I barely heard the knock at the door. I called for the guest to come in before my brain had truly recognized the sound.

I turned around the footsteps cut through the silence of the room. Nikolai stood before me. He was dressed for his day. I smiled at him.

"Wow," he mumbled, a smile stretching across his face.

"What," I asked. I chuckled a bit. "Impressed?"

"I'm always impressed by you," he replied. I tilted my head a bit, my eyebrows furrowing for a moment. "Why do you think I spent so long hoping to be in your good graces?"

"I assumed it was a way to hold up your ego-"

"It was because from the moment that I saw you, I knew there was something different about you," he cut me off as he explained, stepping closer to me. "You caught my attention so easily that it was almost unfair. I had no choice but to get you to see me as I saw you."

When he stopped moving, I felt as though my heart were in my throat. He was so close. Too close. It would have been so easy to lean forward and close the pointless distance that separated us.

But I didn't.

Instead, I asked a question, "And how do you see me?"

"Brilliant," he immediately said. His voice was soft. It sounded distracted as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud. "And brave. And strong. And... lovely. And protective. And gentle, even though you don't let that show very often."

I would have chuckled at the final comment if I hadn't been so stunned.

I had been called brave before. I had been called strong before. I had never had someone associate my name with the words lovely or gentle or brilliant. Maybe I had simply never captured someone's attention for long enough for them to find those words.

"I could use a million words to describe you and I would never feel as if I had said enough," he whispered. His hand came up to cup the side of my face.

"Nikolai," I mumbled.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine before I could think of what I was going to say beyond his name.

I slowly kissed him back, suddenly becoming aware of just how little experience I had when it came to matters like this. I tried to ignore that nervous feeling in my stomach.

He made it much easier. As he leaned closer and held me just where I was, I found myself with little else to think of beyond him. No fears or simple worries could pull me away from this moment.

Yes, I was definitely impressed.

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#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Amai Mask/F!Darling: Lucky (1/)

If you were anyone else, you'd be wondering how you were fortunate enough to spend most of your life in Amai Mask's penthouse. I mean, he's at the top of every "Top 10" list for Heroes, pop stars, models, and singers. Bad lighting doesn't exist for him. And his body looks like it was carved from marble. He had so many fans that would kill to live with him.

And yet, the "lucky" one was you, and all because you had the gall to criticize him. To refuse him.

You were dragged to a dumb concert by a friend who'd won two tickets, and you had the nerve to open your fat mouth while waiting in the backstage line. That was the crime that warranted you being kidnapped, imprisoned, and hurt in ways you never imagined.

"Look, I have celebrities I crush on that you don't think are attractive, and this guy is yours," you'd said diplomatically. "I just don't get the appeal of a guy who's so dedicated to a facade that he named himself after it."

"Oh, come on," your friend groaned. "His name is about his appearance! Like, he looks so sweet, but it's a mask to hide how badass he is and how violent he gets with monsters."

"Yeah, I'm sure he can punch monsters real good," you replied sarcastically. "Plenty of Heroes punch monsters without turning their job as a civil servant into an entertainment career. Doesn't that make you feel...weird? It's like if a K-Pop idol was also in the milit--"

"Compulsory service is a thing in South Korea," your friend quipped.

You crossed your arms. "Okay, bad example. Imagine if a K-Pop idol was a firefighter, or a cop, or a fed. Which he is, technically."

"Gawd, I'd kill to see him in a uniform," she sighed. "Can you imagine? Holding those cuffs..."

"I'm sure the guy who beats criminal Monsters to death would show restraint and use nonlethal force like handcuffs. Well, if you're a human, he probably would. Though if you're not hot by typical standards I could see him being rough, just because you're not quite as human as the Pretty People."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Getting roughed up by him after he cuffs me? The crime rate would go wayyy up just for people dying to get that chance~"

You rolled your eyes. "Can anyone in this line explain to me how this guy is hot in a way that's totally distinct from every other idol? Apart from the fact that he has a different serial number from the others that came from the same entertainment industry factory?"

"Okay, Daria," your friend said with a smirk. "Just because you're too good to be into idols doesn't mean we aren't."

"I'm fine with idols, just not ones like...him," you retorted. "Either be an entertainer or be an enforcer of the government. I'm not a conspiracy theorist but with his influence, he could get away with all sorts of dirty shit. And he's probably done way worse than the typical police brutality against Monsters." You crinkled your nose at the countless posters, CDs, t-shirts, figures, all bearing his aesthetically perfect and boringly pretty face. "He just seems so hollow, you know? I almost feel bad for him."

Your friend snorted. "You sure sound like it."

"Look, let's say for the sake of argument that he is using a persona all the time. He's an agent of the federal government AND an idol, both being industries that exploit the shit out of everyone inside. And he's so stuck inside that he can never express any genuine emotion that doesn't look good. Imagine not being able to feel or express shit that everyone else on the planet gets to: you can't feel anything without immediately wondering what you look like and adjusting so you don't look ugly while you feel it."

"So you're saying he self-monitors as much as your average woman?"

"In a Naomi Wolf sort of way, yes," you replied with a smirk. "Even if the guy is annoying, I also feel bad for him if that's how he lives. Imagine having such a complex that you think being ugly is the worst thing in the world. I'm not a prize, but your average ugly person probably hates themselves way less than he does when he's alone." You felt a smile creep up on your face. "Wouldn't it be the dumbest and most delicious bit of irony if he hated Monsters so much because they don't hide their ugliness as well as he does? Like a Japanese Gaston."

Your friend pouted. "Aww...you're just making me love him even more. Maybe he just needs someone to see the real him and help him love the real him. Someone who's an armchair psychologist like you!

"And now, the Armchair Psychologist is noting that we've moved to the classic I Can Fix Him route. My non-professional advice is to just ogle him with detachment and not think too much, lest you get too depressed and ruin the relationship between fan and idol-cop on a pedestal. No guy is worth it, especially him." You suddenly hear a chorus of screaming around you that makes you wince. "Goddammit! He isn't worth this tinnitus either!"

Your friend giddily jumped up and down to get a better look at Amai Mask waving as the line started to move again. "I beg to differ," she sang. "Ooh, he put his hair up in a little man-bun!"

Amai Mask took the mint-infused water bottle that an assistant had given him with a smile; once they'd turned around to scurry to the next task, he dropped it immediately and sipped it. Just two more hours and he could go home and rest for a bit before meeting with his management crew to plan everything for next month: tours, photoshoots, a briefing with the other Top-Ranked Heroes at the Association...

He sighed and dabbed at the bit of sweat forming on his brow with his neck towel. He loved pleasing his fans with an appearance, but even he needed to rest sometimes.

"Five minutes," his manager warned. "You need anything before you head back out there? I can push it back if you want hair and makeup to pop in."

Amai shook his head and set down the water bottle to put his hair up into a loose bun, carefully letting a few pieces fall to frame his cheekbones. "No, just this," he replied, frowning at his manager. "You should know by now that I don't like that level of prep for autograph signings. They want something intimate and personal, something casual." He applied a bit of tinted lip balm to complete the look. "This should be perfect."

"When are you not?" His manager smirked and checked his watch. "See you out there."

Amai heard him walk off and leaned against the barrier separating the queue from the behind-the-scenes area, closing his eyes. For a man as busy as him, these brief little moments during the day were the closest he got to relax when he had a tight schedule. Plus, the chatter of people made for a nice background noise.

"I've streamed his new album, like, a zillion times--"

"Did you see the pics of him from that charity gala? His suit was so--"

"Is it too much if I ask him to sign my dakimakura?"

He covered his mouth to hide how his face crinkled as he snorted. That wasn't even the weirdest thing he'd signed this month from a fan.

"I just don't get the appeal of a guy who's so dedicated to a facade that he named himself after it."

He raised an eyebrow. Someone like that was at one of his events? Normally he heard these things from random drama videos or read them online. The more vitriolic, the funnier it was to see how much they seethed over his success and talent. Hearing it in person wasn't that rare, but it was a small surprise; normally they didn't pay for his concert tickets.

He heard a woman next to them speak up in his defense, obviously a fan. Ah, he understood it now--the first voice was someone dragged here by a friend. He tried to imagine what the two of them looked like: the fan dressed in a concert t-shirt, maybe some merch as accessories, and the cynic in drab shapeless clothing, maybe a shirt depicting a musician they thought was sooo much deeper than his music. A wardrobe that came out of thrift stores and secondhand shops, complete with an imaginary pat on the back for being oh-so ethical in their nonexistent fashion.

The more they talked though, the more he was dragged out of his little 5-minute meditation. The background noise of the others melted away as he found himself focusing on what these two were saying. It was annoying, but nothing he hadn't heard before from his critics.

"He just seems so hollow, you know? I almost feel bad for him."

His eyes shot open. Suddenly he found himself staring at the mirror he'd just used to put his hair up. Every other jab stung, but just barely. Why was he even listening to this nobody? They were pretending to feel bad for him, just as hypocritical as they said he was. He took another sip of water and massaged his temples when he noticed he was narrowing his eyes into near-slits in the mirror. Shit, he didn't want to look wrinkled and stressed during the signing. He had some eye cream in his bag; he just needs to ignore them, dab this on, and relax for the rest of his--

"He's so stuck inside that he can never express any genuine emotion that doesn't look good."

The hand that was reaching for his bag's zipper froze. He bit his tongue and felt a pulsing in his temples. Shit. SHIT. If he felt that, then that meant--

He willed himself to look into the mirror and fought the urge to vomit as he saw a small vein starting to rise next to his left eyebrow. This stupid, ignorant bitch was actually getting to him. Why? Why? He can just ignore them.

"I also feel bad for him if that's how he lives. Imagine having such a complex that you think being ugly is the worst thing in the world. I'm not a prize, but your average ugly person probably hates themselves way less than he does when he's alone."

He had to clench his fists to keep from punching through the barrier and crushing their skull to shut them up. Someone like this had NO right to feel pity for HIM. No shit, they weren't a prize. Being ugly on the outside and inside, and that smugness, that audacity to pretend they feel bad for him--HIM, their better in every possible way?

"Wouldn't it be the dumbest and most delicious bit of irony if he hated Monsters so much because they don't hide their ugliness as well as he does?"

His hands tightened to the point that he felt like his bones were about to pop through his skin. The pulsing in his temples was unbearable, but he couldn't bear to look in the mirror to see how bad the vein had gotten. He had to get away from them. He had to shut them out, to be better and ignore them. He took another swig of his drink and headed back to where he'd left the signing table, massaging his temples with a bit of medicated cold-pressed cream. Soon he felt the pulsing subside, and after a few minutes of breathing, he was back to normal.

He came out again and felt a wave of comfort as he heard his fans screaming for him. This was his comfort zone, exactly where he was supposed to be. He was in his element. That little worm was in his world, and while he had to fight the urge to scan the crowd for them, he suppressed a chuckle at the thought of them feeling so out of place and uncomfortable among the throngs of screeching fans surrounding them.

"Thank you for waiting," he said with a warm smile. "Sorry for the long break, but I can't wait to meet the rest of you all!"

Another round of screams rang out as he settled into his chair and chatted mindless pleasantries and feigned intimacy with the fans at the front of the line, signing things so quickly and expertly as if his hand had a mind of its own. As the line progressed, he tried to listen for the voices of that particular duo to see if his image of that nobody were accurate.

When he spied a woman in a t-shirt from last year's concert standing next to a more subdued one in a flavorless top and jacket, he knew he'd found them. Once they finally reached the front of the line, he made sure to give the fan a sweet smile and take their hand as they handed him a film poster with shaking fingers. "Thank you so much for coming," he said kindly. "Ooh, this poster takes me back. I had a lot of fun filming this one. What's your name?"

"You touched my wrist," the fan whispered. She shook her head. "I mean, uh, that's not my name. Not Wrist. It's, um...oh God, uh--"

"Shizuka," the Cynic interjected. "Her name is Shizuka."

The fan nodded eagerly. "Yep! That's it."

Amai Mask smiled and signed the poster. "So, did you enjoy the concert, Shizuka?"

"Ohmygod-you-said-my-name--I, um, yes! I went to one last year but this set had all my favorite songs, and it was just so...Wow! You're a natural onstage, like...a real showman, you know?"

"People say that a lot," he replied with a hint of feigned humility. "I'm just grateful that what I'm good at coincides with my job. I love performing for everyone, especially fans like you that tell me how you enjoyed it."

The Cynic struggled to roll her eyes as her friend fawned over him. He turned his gaze to them and smiled, holding his pen up. "Did you have something for me too, Miss...?"

"____. And no thanks," she replied awkwardly. "I just came with her since she won an extra ticket. But like she said, you're a uh...real showman." She tried to sound somewhat enthused, but she wasn't as good an actor as he was. "You must have down a couple litres of water in between songs with everything you do up there. I was exhausted just watching you do your thing up there!"

More false concern and acting like she's so cool and detached. He let out a small chuckle. "I like to think I get energy from my fans, but the water and electrolyte drinks in between sets help too." His golden eyes shone strangely for a moment. "I do feel bad that you came all this way and waited in line just to walk away with nothing special, though."

He stood up and to the delighted and surprised screams of the crowd (and Shizuka), he took out his phone and handed it to his assistant before putting an arm over each of the duo while he posed in the middle with a dazzling smile. The assistant snapped several pictures and immediately chose the best looking ones to post to Amai Mask's promotional account for his concert tour. "Once you see this online, could you comment on the post and let me know you saw it? That way I'll know your usernames!"

Shizuka nodded furiously, trying not to cry too hard from joy as she felt Amai Mask's hand on her shoulder and imagined how perfect they would look in a picture together side-by-side. ____ felt Amai Mask tilt his head and whisper something into her ear that made her blood run cold.

"Thanks for coming, Armchair Psychologist."

#.opm #yandere opm #.amai mask #yandere amai mask #fem darling #.myshit

[sarahsartistportfolio]

Knight X Princess AU with Albedo

wc: 3,926

Ok so many many months ago I had made this post and the lovely @witch-hazels-musings decided to pick it up and turn it into a series. Back then I had little interest in actually writing fanfic but now I'm dipping my toes in it. And I have the inspiration for knight Albedo so I tried to write. And it ended up pretty long lol

Um there are some author's notes at the end. And Hazel if you end up reading this, your writing is truly such an inspiration. You completely have my blessing if you wanna use anything I wrote here in your own knight series❤

Once upon a time, you’re the youngest princess of Mondstadt.

At the tender age of seven a strange woman approaches your father with a proposal. You watch secretly behind the grey stone wall as this foreign woman talks to your father, the king. The woman’s hands are resting on the shoulders of a child beside her, a little golden-haired boy about your age. You're too young to make out any sense of the conversation they're having. And it isn't until your older brother spots you, and rushes you away that that little boy looks behind him to catch a glimpse of you.

 This mysterious woman not only convinced your father to take this young boy in but also that he will be your future personal knight. 

Your father stands behind tiny you as he introduces you.

“ Y/N, this is Kreideprinz, he’ll be training with the knights of Favonius. You’ll be spending a lot of time together when you're older.”

Albedo’s piercing icey blue eyes seem to look right through you. He barely moves, only taking a low formal bow with “Princess.” as his introduction.

You extend a curtsy back towards him(or at least try to, your sister has been desperately teaching you how to perform one right)

Your gruff father’s voice cuts through

“His mentor told me he’s developed a skill for the arts at such a young age. Just like you Y/N.”

This moment marks the start of a fond habit the two of you will share in the many years to come. Given parchment and colorful pastels by your father you and Albedo draw together out in the open courtyard. And although he doesn't say much and you’re a bit too nervous to say anything towards him, you make a small attempt. 

“Kreidepr-”

“Albedo.” he cuts you off with an unchanging neutral expression.

“Please call me Albedo, your highness.”

From that moment forward you two become a familiar presence in each other’s lives. When you weren’t being taught your sixth lesson by your governess and when he was done with training with the order of the knights, you two played together. He would show off his newly learned sword stance or a raw material he was gifted by his teacher in his alchemy lesson. You quickly learned he was a curious child. Not afraid to pick up the creepiest of bugs or tornest of plants.(You even watched him eat a spider much to your shock.) He would tell you random facts about the stars, the weather or flowers that grew on the castle’s grounds. You rarely saw him smile, his expression always remaining so indifferent. It was like he hadn’t learned how to smile yet. 

Meanwhile you shared with Albedo the juicy gossip you overheard from the visiting diplomats or a map you stole from your father’s collection of newly discovered lands from outside your kingdom. You two developed a love of drawing together whenever you both could escape the pressures of the adults. It's peaceful, drawing together on a large piece of paper. Of what you hoped your futures to look like, what countries you’d like to visit, what new foods you’d like to try.

When you’re about 15 years old it's when he officially becomes your guard. You’ve noticed as you’ve grown older Albedo seems to keep his distance from people. Except you, as he’s quite forced to be your shadow. It really feels like nothing has changed at all except now he wears the royal uniform and he’s the first face you see when you wake up and the last before you retire for bed.

You don't quite understand his love for science but you indulge in his hobby nonetheless. You listen to him ramble about experiments and data that just go right over your head. But you really do try to pay attention! Because you consider him your friend now. Plus his voice is so calming, you could listen to him talk about anything for hours. 

On the occasions you are able to, if you find a rare preserved bug or rock said to have fallen from the sky, you gift it to Albedo. (Even if on occasion he says a bit sheepishly “I already have one of these in my collection” he still accepts it from you regardless).

You’re the first one he shares that he’s been gifted a vision. He tells you way too calmly for having been blessed with such a powerful item but you get excited for him.

A few more years pass and Albedo could actually count on one hand how many times he’s actually had to defend you. He’s grateful really, that’s it's been so little, that his job is relatively boring. He’s thankful that so far your life has been safe. 

He does remember although, the first time he ever saw you truly fearful. A few years back when you two were still teenagers. A siege from a neighboring kingdom, one who wanted more power, marched right up to the city’s gates. You and your siblings were barricaded in an enforced room deep within the castle. “If the enemy starts to breach the outer room of these walls, I want you to take my sister and run, escape from here through the underground passage.” Your older brother had told Albedo secretly earlier.

Albedo had never seen you genuinely afraid before that day. As the sounds of screams and combat can be heard from within this room's thick walls. Your clammy and tight grip on his hand never leaves him as your other hand clenched at the fabric of your dress. 

The sound of cannon fire shaking the walls has made you jump in surprise and even has shaken Albedo’s usual calm demeanor.

“We’ll be alright.” He reassures you although his slightly nervous tone betrays his words. He squeezes your hand “I promise we’ll survive this.” 

And it's through your closest friend’s unwavering certainty that you find it in yourself to give him a weak smile and nod. 

And as if the gods hold true to Albedo’s word, the battle never reaches inside the castle. Your loyal army causes the enemy to retreat. Its safe again at last. But when your siblings start to exit the room, You find yourself breaking down. You were trying desperately to hold it together in front of your family but now just in the presence of Albedo tears being to fall. He stops and moves right in front of you, his hand now resting on your shoulder as he tries to brush the tears from your cheeks. A rare look of concern and worry on his face as he quietly calls your name. 

“I’m sorry.” you sniffle and try to regain some composure in your voice. “I’m sorry. Look at me crying while everyone else is relieved. I should be stronger than this. A royal should be stronger than this.” 

As he glances back at the doorway waiting til it's just the two of you left in this room, he embraces you, in this brief quiet moment he holds you close. 

Yes so far you’ve been kept safe. Even skillfully dogaging a marriage proposal or two. 

That is…until the curse catches up to you.

You see there’s been a long past down story that your family will one day suffer from a curse. But that’s all this is right? A story? A story of some ancestor of yours angring a deity or magical creature and getting cursed that one day your royal bloodline will die out. But that’s just a fairy tale right?

It starts with your father the king. But he’s already old and frail so his death, while heartbreaking, is not all too unexpected. Albedo is still there at your side as you lie a flower down on your father’s tomb. 

Now your oldest brother inherits the throne. You’re happy to see him in power, your family has been very close. He’s only about seven years older than you and healthy for his age. 

So two months after his coronation, when he falls ill. It's a shock to you and your two other siblings. The royal doctor has no answer, you call for healers outside your borders, offering huge payments in return. But within a week, your dear brother is gone. 

Albedo watches as you try to put on a strong facade for your sister and brother. But he can see the trembling in your hands. This isn’t normal, this shouldn’t be happening. Let alone to someone as undeserving as you. 

Now Albedo is no doctor but there must be something he can do, some way he can help. He scours the castle library for every book on rare illnesses and even dips into your family’s genealogy. When nothing there serves his pursuit he ventures out into the city, even to the outskirts of Mondstadt for any scrap of information that could help him. 

And within this short time Albedo is searching, your older sister takes the throne and a month later she is dead. 

Albedo watches as you attempt to reassure your last remaining family member. “It's the curse isn’t it?” your brother replies with paranoia. 

But it can’t be. Albedo tries to convince himself. He has studied magic extensively, curses aren’t unheard of but. To think this tragedy would touch you? The only person in his life he considers a friend? 

Albedo is a man of science, of tangible proof that you can hold in your hand. A curse that was placed on your family for some unknown reason, generations ago by most likely some being or person that’s long since passed? He thinks back to when he was 15, glancing to his side as he kneels before the king to take his vow, to see you trying to hold back a gleeful smile as you watch him take his oath to serve by your side till his last dying breath. 

A curse? He will not just bend it but break it completely. 

He neglects you a bit again during this time. So into his research as he has been many times in the past. He reassures you this time it's to help you. Your brother only makes it two weeks before he’s caught a fever. Albedo closes his book, leaves his lab, and returns to your side as you say your last goodbyes to your brother. 

The young man feels as if the world is crumbling beneath his very feet with how fast both of your lives have changed in such a short amount of time. He wants to return to those carefree days of when you two drew together out in the courtyard, not to now where he has to watch the joy leave your eyes, not one where he has to watch you bury your family, where he’ll have to watch you be-

No no no he can’t think like that. Not now. Not when there’s still time to change the future. But he just can’t bring himself to leave your side right now. Not now when your skin is growing pale, you're losing your appetite and your eyes grow tired. You two are friends. He understands this, you taught him what friendship is, what it looks like, feels like. But recently with this suffering that has fallen to you, he can’t feel but feel a new emotion, one he can’t comprehend. Recently he’s had such a strong desire to embrace you more often. Hold your hand. And when you're standing too close caressing his cheek, kiss you. But is this love? Could something that’s not even human grasp such a raw emotion?

“Albedo…” you weakly beckon him closer, offering a piece of charcoal in your hand. He knows why you're doing this. But it won't be the last time, he swears to himself. 

“Remember when we were kids,” you start with your horse voice “I drew us climbing to the top of Dragonspire, that’s what I saw in our future.” you smile nostalgically as you brush off loose charcoal off your paper. 

“We can still do that.” He says unwaveringly. “When your strength returns to you I’ll take you up there. As I’ve done myself many times in the past.” His vibrant blue eyes hold a conviction that you admire so much about him. It's surely one of the reasons you’ve fallen in love with him. All you can do is smile a bit pitfully back at him “Keep your promise.” 

Once you become bedridden he can not will his legs to leave your side. Only once the inconvenient pain of hunger or sleep pulls him away from your side. Although he can not bear to be in the room with you as you dictate your will and last testament to your royal advisor. 

The next morning as he just barely got enough sleep, as he’s making his way to your bedroom he hears faint crying and fear just takes hold of his heart. His trembling knees almost give out at the sight of you lifeless on the bed, your attendants weeping besides you. His mouth dry, eyes wide with dread.

 “She’s alive but she’s asleep…” the priest standing over your bedside says. “Nothing we do will wake her.”

 Albedo stays by your side attentively the next few days. It's true nothing he does or gives to your body will wake you. There’s only the steady rise and fall of your chest and quiet breathing. The image of the princess’s most loyal guard resting at his knees beside your bed with his hand in yours, this image is forever stuck with the servants and remaining court who catch a glimpse of it behind your door. 

“Are you sure about this Albedo?” Jean questions him with concern as she hands him his last supply bag. Albedo sits on top a sturdy horse, at the city’s gate, early in the morning when the sky is still a mix of orange and purple. The sun illuminating the back of the castle, casting a large shadow over the city. It could be the last time he ever sees his home, the last time he ever sees you. “Absolutely.” he answers the grand master. 

This is not an aimless journey for Albedo. He has leads, names, places of interest that have ties to your family’s name. In the beginning he felt immensely guilty. You could have passed away one, two days after he left Mondstadt. He doesn't know how long he’ll be away from your side. He could return to a kingdom in disarray, a power vacuum left by your passing, he could return to see your name on the family tomb. He travels farther and farther. Past the neighboring kingdom Liyue. On a boat to Inazuma, where he watches the leaves fall and snow dust the ground. He’s quiet during this time and single track minded. He rarely interacts with the people living in the lands. Except for when he overhears your name or family's name spoken in a conversation. Then he stops said person and with an impassive expression demands they tell him more. 

On a boat to Sumeru is where his next hunch takes him. As he counts the consolations in the night sky on the rocking ship, he finds his mind drifting back to you. When he sees a woman with your same hair color out of the corner of his eye, he thinks of you. When he sits at his campfire late at night, bathed in an orange glow and sketches, he thinks of you drawing at his side. When, with just the little tools and materials he carries on him, he’s able to transform one element to the next, he thinks of your face of innocent amazement as you applaud him for what he believes is a simple feat. Archons he misses the sound of your voice. 

With nothing to show for his efforts in Sumeru he treks through the sweltering hot desert for Fontaine. Catching a small boat to the port he recalls a memory from your shared childhood. He remembers as children you two would talk about traveling to vast unknown lands when you were older. Now he has slain so many alien beasts, came face to face with ancient deities that have been around since the stars formed, he’s walked through lands that didn't even feel real, like he was walking through a dream. There’s now a deep white scar from his wrist to his elbow. He wonders if, no when, you see it will you scold him for being so reckless. He imagines you tenderly tracing the raised skin as you tell him to “please don't be so reckless for my sake”. He smiles. The only time he smiles is when he thinks of home or you. 

He silently promises you that he’ll recount every adventure and monster slain to you when you’re awake. 

By the time he reaches Snezhnaya the usual snow has melted, breathing spring into the once fridgen landscape. Outworldly Albedo looks defeated. His eyes are so tired. And he just misses you so much. He never thought his pursuit to awaken you from your endless sleep would take him so far from the city of freedom. He used to think himself so smart and capable. But even in Snezhnaya every written or spoken word of your family’s curse brings him no closer to the truth. No matter what god he begs to or monster he strikes down he still gets no answers. He recalls the court alchemist telling him “You’re a curious student Albedo. Your perseverance for the truth will lead you far in life.” 

But now as Albedo sits at the far end of a dimly lit tavern, he feels like such a disappointment to you, to the one his heart yearns for. He should have told you he loved you. He should have told you so many months back. But at that time he was still coming to terms with what “love” really felt like. 

If Albedo wasn’t so lost in thought he would have picked up how the tavern’s bard is singing an all too familiar song. Lyrics about a mysterious and silent knight who is on a quest to bring his beloved lover back to life. But Albedo’s mind is ruminating about the past. 

It's only after the music has stopped and the boisterous tavern has quieted down does Albedo take his leave. Although once outside to the oddly soundless streets he hears a voice. 

“You should return home loyal knight.” It's the bard that was singing inside the tavern. His dress and accent oddly Mondstadtan. “This act of love is enough to save her. I felt your devotion long before you arrived here.” 

Yes…maybe it is time to return home.

His journey back home is heavy. As the spring turns into the hot and humid days of summer. But he is returning home empty handed. No real world proof that this curse is even real. I have failed the only person who has mattered to me the most. At this point Albedo desires nothing more than to let his dreary eyes close as he rests at your side, so he can at least tell you he loves you in your dream. 

He’s grateful to see that Mondstadt still looks the same. The castle still stands in the distance. And as he nears the city he overhears the townsfolk speak of you as if you’re still asleep. So all my effort?...All my research?...What good was the pursuit of knowledge if it could not return to him the one he holds dear to his heart. 

At least he can see you one last time. 

As he arrives inside the castle's walls he sees a cluster of favonius knights huddled together, discussing something with vigor. And when a familiar face notices Albedo’s tired and weary figure, they spirit over to him. 

The pure astonishment on his colleague's face is the only thing Albedo’s mind registers as the person word dumps onto him.

All Albedo catches through his hazy thoughts are 

“It's you! You’ve really returned Kreideprinz.-”

“We thought you were-”

“-amazing! Just an hour ago-”

“-she asked for you. First word she said-”

And that’s all Albedo can hear as his feet move on their own to your room. Where all the castle’s attendants are congregating outside your bedroom door, weeping joyfully and thanking Barbados. 

He pushes his way past the crowd and despite his disheveled appearance he’s recognized and allowed to enter. 

He feels like he just stepped into a dream. A beautiful, idealized dream. There you, awake, standing, walking. Talking to one of your ladies before your eyes meet his. So much time has passed. What if you don't recognize him? What if you don’t remember him at all? His own voice caught in his throat as he watches you bring your hand over your mouth. And with pure disbelief in your voice “Albedo?” and that’s all he needed. 

It's as if he’s moving through the haze of a romanticized storybook page, he runs toward you and takes you into his arms. He holds you like you might slip through his fingers at any moment. It's a dream, it must be. Maybe some ghastly creature killed him some time ago and this is celestia. He would happily embrace it.

“Albedo.” you call his name through a broken sob. It's tender, and it's all he wants to hear for the rest of his life, as hot tears roll down his cheek and disappear into your hair. 

And for you? It's like walking straight into heaven, back into your knight’s arms. You’ve missed the touch of his blonde hair and the smell of his clothes. You dreamt about him, over and over again. Even through the endless darkness of your nightmare. Your heart clung to every precious memory with Albedo as if absolutely refusing to forget him. 

He lets out a deep sigh as you can hear the smile in his quiet voice “This is a dream, I’m dreaming.” it’s whispered against your neck. 

You let out a laugh and not even angels above could compare to the sound. 

“I’m real Albedo. I’m right here.” You run your fingers through the loose strands of his hair. “I’m right here.” You prop your chin on his shoulder so he can hear you clearly. “And I love you.”

Ah you beat him to it

All throughout his life you’ve been a consist. You’ve remained by his side even when he’s pushed others away or neglected them. 

Under normal circumstances Albedo would never be this brash but with your warm body under his fingertips he can’t think rationally anymore. 

His lips find yours, and it's all passion and yearning. And a little clumsy, as it's both of your’s first kiss. 

“I love you.” He can finally tell you as you are awake to repeat it back. 

…..

Now, up on top Dragonspire peak, there lies a piece of paper, held down by four rocks on each corner. On the paper is a child’s drawing, depicting a girl wearing a crown and a boy wearing the royal guard seal. They are holding hands, standing triumphantly on top a mountain. 

….

….

Oh and now instead of Mondstadtians telling stories of your family’s curse. Every mother tucking their children into bed, every old storyteller over a bonfire, is now recounting the story of a devoted silent knight, braving the seven corners of Teyvat, all to save his true love.

A/N: So when thinking of what situation to throw knight Albedo and princess reader in, I thought of childhood friends to lovers because it felt so natural. I don’t know, I could totally see Albedo falling for his childhood friend where one day when he’s older he just realizes “oh my god its you. Its always been you.” Thoma would make a great childhood friends to lovers now that I think about it lol. Also thinking about what foil to pit him against. I was thinking ok he’s a scientist. Let me pit him against something he can’t understand, something that can’t be solved with equations or facts, but only by the arbitrary logic of some ancient deity that casted a curse on you. And as a lover of Grimms and Anderson’s fairy tales this was fun to write.

#my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact fanfics #genshin albedo #albedo #genshin impact x you #reader insert #genshin x reader #female reader #knight x princess #childhood friends to lovers #genshin impact au #genshin fic #sfw fanfic #knight x princess au #knightxprincess #genshin x y/n #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #genshin x you

[hero-israel]

Hi, if you don't mind answering, I have a question regarding Israel. I figured any Jewish person in Israel or not probably knows better than I could guess after occasionally reading Tumblr for a couple of months. What do you think is right/wrong about the Israel government, what should it be like and what should it do now? I would be thankful if you could answer.

Some context, if it makes any difference why I'm asking: I'm Ukrainian, and I was surprised first time I saw people comparing Israel with russia. It felt wrong to me from the start, cause it made more sense to compare terrorists with terrorists instead. Western leftists seem ignorant and delusional to argue with them, but I also saw this opinion from some Ukrainians on twitter, so I got interested to learn a bit more to get proper arguments against this comparison. Then I learned that quite a lot of Jewish people here are against current actions of the Israel government in Gaza, which at first looked strange to me cause it's a very different situation from what we have in Ukraine. I figured that Jewish people are the best source to learn "what's wrong with Israel government" without being flooded by conspiracy theories. I support Israel, but I don't want to support things that most of you guys actually disagree with. And another thing, personally I don't see how it's possible to get rid of hamas without harming civilians in Gaza, but I saw here Jewish people arguing that both Palestinian and Israeli civilians shouldn't be harmed. That's why I asked a few people on Tumblr what they think Israel should do to get some opinions, though perhaps my question among attacks was seen as an attack too. So this time I add this long clarification, sorry about that 😅

Thank you for the insight - I particularly appreciate hearing what this sounds like from Ukrainians as they face their own crisis.

I support actions that protect Jewish lives and Jewish rights, everywhere in the world, including in Israel. I want governments moral enough and strong enough to do that, everywhere, including in Israel. Sadly, Israel is really fucking it up for the last year.

No one should be happy with what is happening in Gaza. It is an appalling humanitarian disaster, exactly as Hamas planned it would be. Once they were able to stage their attack, Israel had no choice but to invade; to have done anything other than invade would have sent a message to all their enemies that they would just lie back and take it, and that is a message they cannot afford to send.

The current Israeli government is one of the most ultra-right-wing, revolting, criminal, and incompetent out of any democratic nation in the world. Their stupidity made the Hamas attack possible. Benjamin Netanyahu has been PM forever and kept winning elections because despite his ugly, crooked personality, he was good at the job, good from economic and diplomatic perspectives, and avoided major change with the Palestinians. As he stayed in office longer and got more crooked with age, his scandals and campaign crimes piled up until it really looked like he could face prison for it. For a cruelly, tantalizingly brief period, the more forward-thinking elements of Israeli society were able to oust the far-right parties, but eventually that fell apart for the dumbest and most aggravating reason ever and Netanyahu was able to come back. This time he boosted up fringe ultra-right-wing candidates who were too extreme to function in a "real" government but who promised to help him change laws so he wouldn't go to jail. The actual process of changing those laws - transparently to end the investigations of the MULTIPLE indicted or convicted criminals in this government - tore Israeli society apart. People were warning for MONTHS that military readiness was plummeting. The Hamas attack plan had been known since around 2015 and an even more detailed version surfaced last year. They were all just too busy working to legalize crime and settle old scores than on watching the border where the genocidal fascist militia lives.

I don't know what the proper plan at this point is. After 3 months, I'm still very much emotionally stuck on "what you are supposed to do is PREVENT THIS, YOU IDIOTS, THAT IS YOUR JOB, AND NOT A HARD ONE." I don't think I will ever get past that, it was so obvious and I had been losing sleep all year fully expecting something like this to happen. Within the first few weeks after the attack, I saw a message from former PM Naftali Bennett about how it would be relatively quick and easy to flood all the Gaza tunnels with seawater and that would solve the problem; kill off Hamas troops, destroy their weapons, collapse their bases. Clearly they haven't done that yet. Does that mean it can't be done? If it can be done, then I lean towards thinking the current campaign should go on until it is done. If it can't be done, then I'd like to hear exactly what the goal of this incursion is and how long they expect it to last. Are they going to kill 30,000 people in the course of disarming and expelling Hamas? Or are they going to kill 30,000 people and Hamas will still be a recognizable threat anyway? If it's the latter, why kill all those people, why not stop now? When do they stop? Those are fair questions.

Basically all Jews "support Israel," insofar as they want it to keep existing as a Jewish state. Basically all Jews who support Israel also truly have no ill will toward Palestinians. They see Palestinians' problems as being less severe than the problems Jews have faced, historically and recently, and not worth the risks to Jews if an Israel did not exist. They believe in peace and want there to be a two-state solution, either because they really want a better life for Palestinians or because they want to stop feeling vaguely guilty about the occupation, or a mix of both.

I hope this was in any way helpful and regret that I couldn't be more precise about what the future plan should be.

#israel #palestine #gaza #benjamin netanyahu #ukraine #itamar ben-gvir #jumblr

[emanation-aura]

Nahida currently has (one) secret agent. Wanderer, the unknown entity, who has the insanely cool ability of being able to fly and speed around, making him an intimidating aerial combatant. Apart from his combat capabilities, Wanderer is also a totally unknown entity thanks to his trauma-induced spree into erasing himself from the Irminsul and thus can go anywhere on the pretense of being someone else.

But. There are two types of secret missions Nahida wants done. One is the "please fight the Abyss Order and make their Heralds give up information" type of "die die DIE" mission. These are the type of missions Wanderer excels at.

The other is the "wine-dine-steal-something-of-mine" types. As the Wanderer, he should theoretically be excellent at this, but factoring in temperament, it is nearly impossible to make Wanderer play nice enough to seduce/socialise/steal anything.

So... who else could Nahida hire to cover the diplomatic infiltration missions? Someone who is not actively hostile to humanity (which is a very low bar, admittedly), who can travel freely in their spare time because they don't have anything better to do, who has high enough Clearance™️ to access all the diplomatic and social places Archons would want to know about...

The first answer is the Traveler. The second answer is Alhaitham.

"Ok, look, this is utter insanity," the Wanderer says, pointing at the (no longer?) Acting Grand Sage like he's an attraction at the zoo. "I'm supposed to be sharing a job with this guy?"

"This guy has a name," Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. "It's Alhaitham, although call him by his preferred codename on missions."

"Vulture," Alhaitham drawls unenthusiastically. Lesser Lord Kusanali grins; he may sound unenthusiastic, but his Dendro Vision thrums in her presence and aligns with her aspects: knowledge, sagacity, puzzles, analysis, praxis. (Ok, maybe it also has to do with the pay rise she's giving him.) "Who is this...?"

"Just call me the Wanderer," the Wanderer says, the same time the Lesser Lord cheerfully chirps "Hat Guy."

"Wanderer is no good," Alhaitham points out quite reasonably, "it's a job, not a title. Same with Hat Guy. How am I supposed to tell you apart from everyone else who wears hats? Pick something else."

"Justify the existence of the Traveler," the Wanderer sneers.

Lesser Lord Kusanali silently points to a corner of the office with two chairs labelled "time-out corner". Both men fall silent.

"Both of you begin tomorrow," she speaks quickly, confident both can keep up. "I will keep a running list of things I need done, hm... here." She points at the holographic display on the wall, which currently lists "purchase the mythical 'Sea Ganoderma' from Inazuma" and "arrange meetings with other Archons to discuss jurisdictional issues". (Alhaitham thinks she is trying to sound too much like an administrative, executive leader— when she is a god, who has people to do this for her— ah, fuck, this person being him, of course.)

"Hat Guy, all combat missions are yours, and if we need to use... ahem, your special identity, then I will mark it down. Alhaitham, all diplomatic missions are yours, except when marked otherwise." Lesser Lord Kusanali puts her hands to her hips and smiles. "Any questions?"

"Hat Guy..." Alhaitham says, and oh shit, she is the Lord of Wisdom and can Hear His Brain Whirring, "the hat is distinguishable, at least. That's an Inazuma kasa hat worn by vagrants, and you have a strange accent. お前は本当に態度が悪いな, Ублюдок."*

She materialises a bar of soap in Wanderer's mouth before he can respond, but his rage is palpable, and it is clear he understood what Alhaitham said. Frankly, she is too interested to intervene, wanting to see what Alhaitham deduces about Wanderer's identity.

"Likely Inazuman by origin, given his hat and accent inflection, while also understanding Snezhnayan. Very rare combination, isn't it?" Alhaitham doesn't smile, exactly, at the squirming Wanderer, but he is gloating in his own way. "The Fatui Harbingers are missing an Inazuman for their roster, actually, and we know they like recruiting a couple from each region (under his breath, confirmed placements are Fair Lady to Mondstadt, Regrator to Liyue, Doctor to Sumeru, the Marionette to Fontaine, the Captain to Natlan, with the rest unknown or native to Snezhnaya). And it is said that they've been missing a Sixth for a couple centuries, have they not?"

"So, in conclusion, this... Hat Guy is the former Sixth Harbinger that either was fired, escaped, or rebelled. You've defected to the side of the Archons by joining Lesser Lord Kusanali."

It is indeed Haravatat that sniffs him out, Nahida thinks with amazement. She removes the bar of soap from Wanderer's mouth, which causes him to unleash a litany of curses in all four languages he knows (Common, Sumerian, Inazuman, Snezhnayan, with some Seirai Dialect thrown in for fun). Perhaps out of respect for her, though, he does not attempt to immediately throttle Alhaitham. Nahida takes it as a win.

"Well, this has been a productive first meeting for you two! I look forward to working with you guys in the future."

Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. And the rest, while not history, will eventually sort itself out.

*Japanese: roughly "You have an attitude problem", and Russian: "you little bitch". I do not speak these languages, so native speakers feel free to interject.

[Fatui Harbinger nation-of-origin ideas are not to be taken as canon]

#genshin impact #nahida #lesser lord kusanali #wanderer #hat guy #shitpost #alhaitham #fic writing

[azriel-scum]

It wasn't supposed to be this way - Part 2

Hi hey hello! Part 2 is here! I'm worried that there are some inconsistencies from part 1 to part 2 and if there are certain things that don't add up. I wanted to get this out, but I'm also considering going back to revise both parts to make sure it flows!

This is my first time actually posting fanfiction, I've been reading it for as long as I can remember and writing here and there, but I feel like I'm still trying to nail down my writing style. I might make some minor changes, but I'm very much open to any feedback!

Warnings: Domestic abuse

Tags: @littleffawn, @frogsandhomicidalducks

Walking with her head low, Elara neared the center of the city.

It was heartbreaking to walk through the city this way - actively trying to avoid everyone, trying to not be recognized.

Velaris meant a lot to everyone in the inner circle and Elara would never try to claim that it meant more to her than anyone else. All of them would unquestionably lay down their lives to protect this place - Gods Rhysand had done just that - had experienced something worse than death for fifty years straight.

At the risk of being too self important, some days she felt like Rhysand was the only person who could truly relate to how she felt about how deeply her soul was intertwined to this city. The fae who lived here, their families, their stories. It wasn't just that - it was the priestesses in the library, it was the Illyrian warriors who had been outcasts of the camps, and all of the other souls this city has taken in.

Having to hide herself away from the citizens of the city, sneak around to hide a dark and twisted secret, being too ashamed to show her face - was truly heartbreaking to her. It affected her in a way that most would never understand. She ached to describe this feeling to someone, to unload the heavy mass of shame she was carrying, but who could she possibly tell?

Rhysand was the closest thing she had to an older sibling, he understood the way she grew up and where she came from, understood how much this city meant to her and above all else, truly understood the burden of having others rely on you to perform and deliver what was needed of you.

Rhysand's inner circle were trusted individuals, they were competent - they did what needed to be done and they rarely, if ever, let themselves slip away from that. How could he continue entrusting her with the city if Elara couldn't even be trusted with making the right decisions about her personal life?

Somedays it felt like the shame she carried was more visible than any bruise Merikh could've ever given her.

She neared her mother's house, somewhere she had once loved, a place that once represented freedom and new beginnings, now a house of looming death.

There was a group of young Fae walking on the other side of the road, bright eyed and eager, Elara looked up and smiled at them out of habit. One of her most favorite things to do was visit the schools in Velaris as often as she could. For a moment she foolishly forgot about being on guard, and wistfully thought about what it would be like to hit a reset button, to have developed differently, to give the chemicals in her brain a second chance. To be a young female again, bright eyed and eager about the world.

From behind her, a steady and authoritative male voice spoke with the calmness and respect that only a trained and diplomatic soldier can master.

"Governess"

Her back straightened at the exact same moment that her heart stopped beating. Slowly, she turned around, because what other choice did she have?

As she turned around, the male's head was still ducked into a bow and Elara had a fleeting thought - this was the one millisecond she had before he would see the state of her neck and face, the very last moment before she would have to come up with some kind of explanation. As the male raised his head to look her she ducked her head briefly as a sign of respect, never quite used to having people bow to her and never wanting to leave it unanswered.

Raising her head to look at the male, she recognized him as being a spy from the night court, one of Azriel's trusted soldiers.

"Sylas," she greeted him with a smile, lest he sense anything amiss with her, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've just returned from a mission and was walking through the city. I saw you from across the way and thought I would say hello," His tone was easy and he was smiling, but Elara was keenly aware of him cataloging her appearance.

Quick on your feet Elara

"Well that makes two of us, I've just returned to the city and was paying my mother a visit," the lie slipped out easily and much more naturally than she could've hoped for. "I trust I'll be hearing about your travels and the state of Prythian soon." Elara received weekly reports, occasionally from Azriel, but more often than not he was away and the report came from one of his spies.

Sylas nodded affirmatively and replied "I look forward to hearing about your mission as well," pointedly, he looked at the bruises on her face, "I'd hate to see what your opponent looks like."

Elara's heart dropped and her anxiety spiked, but ever the composed warrior she simply gave Sylas a conspiratorial smile and wink.

"I'll see you at our next meeting, take care of yourself, Sylas"

He briefly bowed his head one final time and with that he was off.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

What were the odds a spy trained to work under Azriel himself didn't see straight through that entire interaction?

Elara wouldn't bet anything valuable on it. She just hoped he had enough discretion to keep his mouth shut.

With her face bruised, her heart pounding and her head held high she entered her mother's house.

She opened the door to good natured chaos.

Endor and Elvira had music playing through the house and they were dancing in the living room - trying and failing - to spin each other around. Her mother was sitting up in her recliner, laughing, a rare but golden sight to see.

For a brief moment, Elara stood at the door, her family not quite noticing her yet and she smiled, a glimpse of the version of her family without the abuse and the hardship.

Her brother twirls Elvira around and as she turns she catches a glimpse of Elara standing at the door.

"Ellie!! What are you doing here?" her sister runs across the room, but stops halfway, "what happened to see your face?"

Ellie offered her a simple sheepish shrug and said simply "duty called again."

Elvira laughed and hugged her, Endor gave her a fist bump, and her mother just shook her head and smiled.

A wave of shame crashed over her.

Her job obviously required that she be diplomatic and act with discretion, if that meant lying or being a little manipulative, so be it - but this kind of behavior had never infiltrated to her personal life, to her personal relationships.

Elara had perfected the art of compartmentalizing quite a few hundred years ago - and she shoved this feeling into dungeon cell in the depths of her brain and stored it under lock and key.

Her siblings had already gone back to dancing and her both motioned to the seat beside her.

For the next few hours they laughed and talked, her and her brother cooked lunch, and they sat around her mother, just being in her presence.

A good reminder for Elara that she needed to do this more often.

The music had been stopped for a while, Laurel had dozed off and Endor had gone to train with some friends. The two sisters were sitting out in the backyard and it was nice - there were so many things Elara wanted to discuss with her - the state of relationship, her mother, Elvira's future and a number of other things that could and should be address but it all felt too heavy to bring up now.

Sitting out in the sun made Elara feel much better, her wings felt less sore and when she had looked in the mirror earlier, the bruises were mostly faded, the accelerated healing finally starting to kick in. She had barely thought about Merikh since being here; her mind wouldn't allow her to out of pure preservation. She did allow her mind to wonder where he was, if he had returned to their apartment, if she should go back there and if he would be in a good mood if she did.

Without warning, there was a knock on her mental shields. Elara immediately recognized it as being Rhysand. Immediately, she opened a small sliver of her mind.

"El, come to House of Wind as soon as possible. No immediate threat to the city, but we have intel that needs to be discussed."

She responded affirmatively and stood up. "Sorry little sis, duty is calling. Tell Mom and Enny I'll be back sometime this week, I love you."

Her sister, as the rest of her family, was used to her having to dash off for various reasons with little to no warning. She simply nodded and Elara was off.

She flew over the city to the house, wings sore and mind heavy. Elara allowed herself for just a moment to consider her current situation and what she would do.

Leaving. Leaving was the only option. She knew that, had for some time.

She arrived to the house and was immediately greeted by Feyre.

"I know I said we wouldn't bother you, I'm terribly sorry."

Elara shook her head and smiled duty calls.

She followed Feyre into the dining room. Rhysand was sat at the head of the table, Cassian was standing at his side energy buzzing through him and Azriel was sat slightly off to the side shrouded in shadows; Amren and Mor sat toward the middle of the rectangular table. Elara recognized a few of Azriel's spies and a few of Cassian's soldiers.

She scanned around the rest of the table and had to physically restrain herself from reacting. Merikh sat at the other end of the table speaking with Sylas, Azriel's spy whom she had crossed paths with earlier in the day. Her heart started to race, but she made a conscious effort to slow it down, lest she spread a scent of fear or anxiety throughout the room.

Rhysand looks up to see his Governess entering the room his eyes glaze over ever so slightly and he spoke to her mind.

Sylas went out to the northern steppes this morning. We had heard word of an errant camp leader that had moved his people closer to the mountain, he's amassed a larger group under his lead and he's been conducting some very concerning drills and shows of strength.

It was not unusual for Illyrian camp leaders to be causing unrest. While Elara herself was not directly responsible for this area, it was very pertinent that she was made aware of disruptions or possible sources of conflict. Usually, though it would not have required an emergency meeting.

Rhys must have sensed Elara's slight confusion and he continued his explanation.

Of course, as you know, these kinds of things aren't unusual. Sylas came back and gave report, we weren't particularly concerned, but Azriel heard one of the names of the Illyrians and recognized him as being a citizen of Velaris.

An active member of the camp or a hostage? That felt like a ridiculous question, but the whole scenario was borderline unbelievable. Neither option seemed realistic, but how else would a citizen of Velaris join a camp in the Illyrian steppes. Why else?

It seems he is an active member by choice. How or why he got out there I'm really not sure. We have Merikh monitoring the situation, but of course it's something to keep an eye on. We can't have them recruiting people out of Velaris.

Certainly not.

She turned around to the rest of the room. Merikh was trying to make eye contact with her, she could feel a little bit of his anxious energy. Maybe he was trying to gauge her thoughts, figure out how volatile she was feeling. In their home, Merikh might have the power over her, but in this house and with these people, Merikh was lucky to have even found someone to take the time to bring him up to the meeting room.

Rhys nodded toward her. Your meeting Elara Starlight, we follow your lead.

She made eye contact with Azriel and Cassian, smiling to acknowledge them. Cassian smiled back, Azriel simply nodded. There was something about his silent acknowledgement that gave her a boost of confidence.

Addressing the room she asked, "what do we know about the citizen of Velaris? How could he have gotten to the steppes?"

Sylas opened his mouth to speak, after getting a small go ahead gesture from Azriel, but Merikh was quicker.

"I believe he was frustrated with the lack of opportunity here, there have been a lot of changes and there's no place for a male like him anymore. He seems like a restless male that would've been better suited for the Illyrian lifestyle. If he fits better there, why would we bring him back?"

Elara couldn't find a way to respond to that without blasting him out of his seat, so she simply stayed silent and turned toward Sylas.

He ducked his head toward her, "Governess, I can't say why he joined, but I do believe that the leader of this particular camp is ramping up his recruiting efforts. He's very eager to grow his numbers and spread his message."

Azriel added in "We will be running missions through that region regularly and making contact with leaders and members. I feel we should have extra boots on the ground here in order to ensure we're not losing anymore of our citizens to this cause."

"I'll speak to my contacts throughout the city to see if I can better understand the situation and will of course report back. Azriel, we'll be in touch about missions and Sylas," she turned to the spy, "I might pull you in for some intel gathering around the city and I would like to go out to the Illyrian steppes to see it for myself." Elara hadn't been out to Illyria in quite some time, she was not necessarily eager, but there a was a threat to be handled and she knew she needed to be out there.

Elara opened her mouth to ask Cassian a question about the Illyrian soldiers and if there were any grumblings across their ranks but Merikh stood up before she could get the words out.

Her anxiety spiked and dread overwhelmed her. If it was possible to die of second hand embarrassment, Elara's death would be the most eminent it ever had them.

"Now hold on, I'm the emissary between these lands, I should be the one to go. I would not need an spy escort to make sure I'm not raped and maimed for a simple visit. We've already lost a citizen to their groups, it doesn't -"

"If the governess wishes to visit the Steppes, I will see to it that she makes the visit." Azriel spoke with such finality that everyone was quiet for several moments.

Rhsyand had been quiet for the majority of the conversation and he was now carefully and silently considering Merikh.

Elara stood there in silent shame. How horrible was it to have your partner speak of you in that way in front of the High Lord and inner circle. How was she ever meant to be taken seriously?

Feyre, Elara do you believe we're done here? Rhysand asked mind to mind. Elara indicated it was and Feyre agreed.

"We will continue to monitor the situation and take the next steps we've decided on."

With Rhysand's dismissal, everyone stood from the table, some hanging around to talk, others laughing about their days; the serious events from the meeting almost entirely forgotten.

Elara walked down the hallway to pop into her office, while she didn't work out of it often, there was some paperwork and letters she wanted to retrieve. As she opened the door, she heard footsteps behind her and immediately knew it was Merikh. Before she could decide on what to do he had a grip on her forearm and was in her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Elara opened her mouth to respond and he shoved her back further into the office.

"You made me look like a fool out there. You've turned this city to shit and now you want to come in looking like the hero and step over me to go out to Illyria."

Elara stayed silent. It was better than trying to reason with him when he was in this state.

In the back of her mind, she clocked the softest sound of a heal turn around the corner. Unsure if Merikh heard it or not, she tried to back out of his grasp, worried someone would see what was going on. He held on tighter and opened his mouth to berate her again - she heard another soft step in their direction, this time Merikh heard it, but before he could fully react, Azriel was standing in the doorway.

Elara had never felt shame quite like what she was feeling in this moment. She had never wished to disappear more, had never wanted to be invisible and cease to exist quite as much as she did right now. Azriel could be quieter than silence itself, Elara knew that as well as anyone else. Had he made the noise intentionally to alert them of his presence? Had he misjudged the situation, wanted to avoid catching them in a compromising situation?

Azriel stood for a moment, considering the two of them.

"Merikh, you're needed in the foyer, Rhsyand needs to speak with you."

Merikh, had tried to disguise his hand placements as a romantic gesture, removed his arms from her shoulder and nodded once before leaving the room.

And there stood you and Azriel.

Heart racing and blood pumping, anxiety spiked so high she was starting to shake.

Calm and composed, Azriel stood like a stone in the doorway. It seemed he was rendered speechless.

#acotar #innercircle #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar imagines #a court of thorns and roses #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #feyre

[just2bubbly]

So apparently I decided to write fluff after a long long time and I'm quite proud of myself for that! :)

Masterlist

Romantic Diversions

Ship: Kaider

Words: 925

Genre: Fluff

Kai's Perspective:

Dhsam!

The door was opened with a loud bang which caused Kai to stir from his work. This uninvited disturbance gave rise to subtle anger and he was ready to pounce on the individual who had decided to barge in his cabin in such a dramatic fashion. 

Regardless, he didn't do any of that since the person who was standing at the door was his own wife. He smiled at her sight, expecting the generic 'Did I disturb you?' from her but she had more surprising cards up her sleeves today. Her theatrical entry just led to an even bigger bouncy voice. 

"I can't believe you did that?!" she cried as she pulled a seat before him. That phrase left him more baffled than ever. Cinder wasn't the one for dramatic flair if truth be told- he was the theatre kid out of the two. 

"What did I do?" he questioned, the file he was working on completely forgotten. 

"Look," she said as she passed the tablet to him. Kai was really curious about what he had done that had got Cinder so excited so he looked into the screen without asking any further questions. 

The screen played a video: 

"Your Majesty, would you like to say anything about the lack of apprehension-" some reporter asked before being interrupted by another.

Kai was not expecting to be chased by a mass of reporters as he flew back home. Alas, he was having a press conference in the airport parking lot right now and he definitely wasn't prepared for this one. 

"Goodness, is that Dr Alan Coetze I see there," he exclaimed- seeing the familiar face of the scientist who talked in a language Kai wasn't quite fluent in. Cinder used to love watching his shows and Kai had seen them from time to time too.

"My wife, the Empress is a big fan of Dr Coetze. You would have to excuse me. I need to have his autograph. My wife would be sorely disappointed if I let down this chance," he explained as he tried making his way towards his saviour. 

The press seemed taken aback by his words, having a hard time believing that it was the Emperor gushing about a European scientist who had just won the Nobel Peace Prize for his thesis. 

"But you are the Emperor, Your Majesty-" someone argued, trying to put sense in him. 

"So what? You don't have any idea how inconsiderate intelligent people are towards royalty," he noted. His arguments made little sense but he needed an escapade and this crazily intelligent man that was standing a few yards from him was going to give him exactly that. 

"Your Majesty, you don't- " 

"I understand it's your work but you do have to be a little understanding about my situation too. My anniversary is getting closer and what better gift than the autograph of Dr Alan Coetze. You would have to excuse me for now. However I promise you, there will be a press conference in New Beijing and I look forward to seeing you all there." 

..

"Oh goodness!" Kai laughed and looked up, his wife's contagious smile made him smile more. 

"I can't believe you said it!" she gushed again. 

"Well, I had a flight to attend and the press wasn't going anywhere. I had to make some diversions," he elaborated, passing the tablet back to her. If he knew anything, he was sure this news was everywhere by now. 

"You're telling me the world's best diplomat needed a romantic diversion?"

"You're never gonna let this one go, are you?" he asked, knowing very well the answer to that question, instead he focused on signing the bottom of the page. 

"That isn't going to be the problem. Next press conference everyone is going to talk about this and this only," she pointed out, forgetting to mention that she too was going to make multiple jokes at his expense. 

He glanced at her, thinking how if these small diversions were what made her smile ear to ear then Kai would be likely to commit more of them every now and then. 

"Nothing that a small 'I love my wife' can't suffice." 

"Which reminds me - you said 'my wife' so many times throughout the entire thing." 

"I have a lovely wife. You can't forbid me from bringing her up all the damn time," he said. 

"Stars, I can't believe you," she continued to say, glancing back at the video before whispering, "I love my wonderful husband too." 

"Shh, don't let my wife hear about this. She gets quite protective," he smirked, throwing a wink in her direction. 

That made her chuckle again as she leaned over the desk to whisper in his ear, "Where's my autograph, Your Majesty?"

He tipped to stare into her brown orbs and replied, "I think I said it was an anniversary gift."

Before closing the inches between the two, he murmured, "Wait your time kitten." Cinder captured his lips with hers, her hands holding the back of his neck. One of his hands spread across her cheek, as he deepened the -

Tring! Tring!

The kiss was cut short by the comm that rang through Cinder's tablet and both of them groaned over it. 

"I'd see you at dinner," Cinder said, getting up from her seat. She was almost out of the door when she looked over her shoulder and announced, "I better have an autograph." 

Kai chuckled at the demand and had a delighted feeling for having met the scientist that day.

--

A/N: Wrote this because I have got myself fixated on this power celebrity couple and they had a fun banter on the media and I couldn't help but imagine it for Kai and Cinder. It seems a lil unrelaistic but it's mostly the modern day alteration of the royalty and media. Hope you like it! <333

tagging: @gingerale2017 @salt-warrior @slmkaider @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @impossiblesuitcase @kaiderswell @kaider-is-my-otp @therealkaidertrash21 @fangirlforever0704

#kaider #just2bubbly fics #kaito #cinder linh #lunar chronicles #tlc #fanfiction #fluff #tlc fandom #marissa meyer #selene blackburn #kai #cinder

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

Your previous post regarding burnout really resonates with me as I'm currently struggling through a mountain's worth of uni assignments.

I hopeyou're being compassionate to yourself where you can. I know you rely on your writing for income but ould cutting down to working on only 2 or 3 fics instead be a viable solution?

Because longterm I don't think that even your insanely impressive skills can hold up to that kind of pressure.

Maybe if you cut back a little you'll be able to enjoy your hobbies again and rest a little more.

I know that I'm not the only reader that wants you to take care of yourself x

Hi anon,

Firstly, good luck with all those assignments! I do not miss the grind of uni when all the assignments suddenly seem due at the same time and it's like 'oh fuck' and it just...is truly exhausting. Remember to take a break after if you can!

I am trying to be compassionate where I can. Working on expanding my capacity / juice left in the tank is actually a big priority with both therapists this year, and it's something I'm actively chipping away at.

Unfortunately cutting down fics is not really something I can do because it would personally stress me out more to put a lot of things on hiatus like that. Underline the Red is already on hiatus, and The Nascent Diplomat on my end is finished, and I'll take a few months off after that before starting the next installment.

Ideally I will be finishing out some fics that will clear my calendar a bit more over time. For example, A Stain that Won't Dissolve won't last forever, and isn't going to be replaced by anything new (Palmarosa will likely slot into that space and I'll be able to work on it more). Underline the Black will be replaced by Underline the Red, and Blue and Gold will be replaced by Underline the Silver.

Eventually, ideally, I'll be working on a smaller and smaller load until I'm at about 2-4 projects (which is how I used to work). Also quite a few of my projects only update once a month or every few months, and that helps a lot. It's just that I have too many fics where I'm on a more regular schedule (Stain, Palm, Black) and normally I only have one or two fics that are on a more regular schedule, so yeah, I am looking forward to that slowing down!

But putting something on hiatus just makes me feel more burdened and overwhelmed than knowing I'm getting closer and closer to wrapping something up. It's just how my brain works! I am a finisher, and while that's really good for not abandoning projects (which is extremely rare for me and tends to only be very short projects or PWPs which I will turn away from), it's less good when I have too many projects lmao. I've gotten better at holding back (there's three fics I'm dying to write right now, which is an Efnisien/Kadek fic that I've already started but not posted anything of, Silver, and Red).

So yeah, I will be cutting back. I've already started. The Nascent Diplomat is no longer on my schedule, which means for the next 3 months while it's still posting, I don't have to write anything for it. That's lovely because I can still share in that world with no extra labour (it's edited and everything). Likewise, Stain and Black are both in their last act/s now. That's still a lot of chapters for both, but it feels good for me to know that both will likely be finished out this year.

But we are getting there! So yeah the view is to cut down on projects, but organically (by finishing out stories and not replacing every single one with new titles, only some of them) rather than forcefully via hiatuses. I mean obviously if I get too sick I will have to go on hiatus and I've done that before, but so far it's looking like I've written enough chapters ahead (most of May is written) that I can take about 2 weeks off from writing in April, and that will help a great deal as well. :)

Anyway, take care with your assignments too! I do not miss that part of uni at all

#asks and answers #personal #pia on writing #i have actually enjoyed stories where i only update once a month #like constellations and TND #as well as something more regular like Black #and something a bit different like Blue and Gold #a big problem - which is frankly a lovely problem to have - is that i'm so *excited* to work on all these stories truly #none of them bore me or disinterest me #even the ones i'm not working on right now #i'm so enthusiastic about all of them #i just need to get better at patience which my ADHD brain finds frustrating #but i am getting there! #just getting TND finished feels lovely #like bittersweet but also lovely #and it will continue to feel that way as i shave off at the schedule #to get back to something more human #i appreciate you anon - make sure you're taking care

[purgetrooperfox]

15 Lines Game

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

I'm here from someone's open tags heehoo

passing on npts to @hamburgerslippers @totentnz @killerspinal @kiwikipedia @alwayskote @galacticgraffiti @certified-anakinfucker and anyone who wants to do it!!

“It's not like I frequent these events,” he mutters, feeling like a broken record. “I would appreciate the help though, thank you.”

“A great many things might seem unbecoming when their purpose is obscured, Master Tapal.”

"Peacekeeping has many faces. The diplomats and negotiators do work that I can hardly even imagine." [redacted context] "You're right, all the same. There's a certain naivete and unconscious bias in a lot of Knights. Lack of perspective about what it takes to survive."

“The artist who gave my father his markings was the one to give me mine," he continues, a touch wistful. "Going back home was strange. Seeing the ways it had changed and the ways it was still stuck was… hard.”

"You would be wise not to show your condescension so openly, Skywalker. If I can feel it, so can most beings on this planet. Need I remind you that ties with the Force run deep here?"

“Just Bastra is fine,” Vargdan sighs. The look he fixes on Kenobi is equal parts irritation and resignation. “You said it was urgent, so I didn't pit stop on Coruscant."

“Not the way you do, but my Master did.” His smile is sad, but free from the weight of grief. “He took them very literally, and if you know what they’re like, I imagine you can see how that would toy with one’s mind.”

“The Order is all I have. This is the only reason I ever got off Dathomir.”

“It's not safe to be out here alone,” he says without turning, forcing her to jog a few steps before matching his pace, “especially for unsubtle thieves.”

“Don't say that. Not now. You had your reasons, you had Sifo-Dyas, and I got that. Eventually. It doesn't matter anymore.”

“I know.” A silence, then an admission, “She's not as angry as I was, I don't think.”

"I mean, it's not like I know how to conduct an army. Bones is miles more qualified than I am, so I'll gladly defer to his judgment."

"This was kept from you for a reason. Some stories are best left buried."

"Obi-Wan was killed in action on Utapau," he repeats. "I know nothing more of it."

“I nearly did, after Sifo-Dyas died.” [redacted context] “I was on my own out there, after, no contact with the Temple to replace him. In all that– with that gang, the things I had to watch. The things I had to do. I was right at the edge.”

(nocte and des under there ⬇️)

“It’s not just the job.” Still, Nocte pulls off his gloves and dumps them in a bin. His expression settles into something hard to read. "You're one of us now, whether you're ready to act like it or not."

"I've put myself on the line enough at least one lifetime, but here we are."

"I don't pity you, MacTavish. I didn't come here to fight with you either."

"What was it you said? No room for morality in war?"

"Well," he grunts, "call it a lapse in judgment if it helps you sleep at night. Not like I'd take offense."

“It doesn’t matter, Soap. It’s just not my bloody name.”

"It's exhausting. The upper crust is exhausting. Aren't you exhausted?"

"Price is going to kill me and it'll be your fault. Me and Lee, both," he complains, though it rings hollow when he doesn't stop her.

"It'll grow back, probably faster than the higher ups would like."

"I don't care whose fault it is. Get your asses back here and fix it."

"Are you threatening to blackmail me, Captain? Because that's a two-way street after–"

He whistles, low and appreciative. "That is one big bastard."

"Quit trying to pick me apart, Lieutenant, I'm fine."

"We shouldn't," he forces himself to say. "We can't."

"How do you ever get anything done with your head that far up your ass?"

"You will mind your goddamn manners or you'll see a different 'doc. Do you understand?"

“You came in with a referral, made my life a little easier, so I'll give you a discount. I respect you, Viktor, you're good at what you do. Not to mention your days in the ring – I was such a fan.” His expression twitches toward something that might even be genuine. “How about this, I'll dig up this chrome for you and you'll owe me a favor.”

"I doubt Royce would've let me walk away from that. Heard he's got a new right hand."

"Hard to believe that's true," he said, laughing a little. "Reckon this is more memory than imagination."

“The crew called me Eyes, which was a gonk ass nickname. Stuck, though."

“I’ve known Hands for a long time, grew up in Pacifica. Don’t get me wrong, I heard about you on the street, but didn’t really pay it any mind until he started asking after you.”

"I think you answered your own question. It's a clinic, ain't it? I'm getting doctored."

"Fucking disgraceful is what it is. You build something, pour your blood sweat and tears into it, just for some upstart leadhead to run it into the ground."

“So I’ll talk to him, clear this up,” he says, even though it’s an uncomfortable prospect. “He probably respects me enough to halfway listen.”

"No. No one ever made me do anything. I lost a lot, but I won't lose that."

#leocs #bastra vargdan #clone medic nocte #but more like #atama 'nocte' te rangi #des 'eyes' gallagher #tag game #this was an interesting one for picking quotes and stuff

[purpleajisai]

Drop your Madara headcannons 🧠 💣

Hi! This is going to be quite a long list. Didn't add every single hc because I'm planning on writing a little fanfic and don't want to spoil some details to you hehe. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Some of these are very oddly specific, this man occupies at least half my brain if not more.

🔥 misc!

* He drinks his tea boiling hot. Burning your tongue? Never heard of it

* Is actually good at cooking and makes the most out of any ingredient available. Growing up in war, he knows how to make meals out of anything.

* Has a pillow to cuddle in bed! The dude is lonely.

* Very elegant and expensive hanko to stamp his documents. A clan leader needs to be fancy sometimes!

* Neat freak. Never has his house messy or his clothes out of place. Even his hair strands are calculated.

* Is actually able to mend/sew his clothes very well if some stitches are damaged during training.

* Sleeps a maximum of 6 hours a day, minimum of 30 minutes. The amount of sleep he gets is like playing a roulette (ever seen the eyebags? yeah)

* Speaking about the eyebags. His eyebags are both sunken and protruding (based on my personal experience of being sleep deprived+stressed) the lower eyelid pops out a little and the dark circles extend more.

* The man is physically unable to go out in social settings during the day. Only has social battery for the night. If he has to do some sort of diplomatic celebration with other clan leaders or kage during the day, he’ll leave the talking to someone better at social gatherings like Hashirama. 

* Has houseplants both for decoration and for cooking. We’re talking pretty succulents and mint plants or peach trees.

* The type of guy to wake up and immediately jump out of bed. Things have to be done everyday and he doesn’t trust people to do things the way he likes. 

🎀 appearance!

* Shaves to perfection every single morning, no excuses. Takes a little razor to missions, hates the feeling of facial hair growing. Trims his eyebrows as well. The Sharingan needs a pretty frame, right?

* The gloves have 2 purposes: protecting his hands from getting calluses or any form of damage due to the metal handle of the gunbai, kusarigama, etc and to hide burn scars (courtesy of @madaraservingcunt go follow her!)

* Continuing with the gloves, they’re made out of leather or thick cotton. Maybe has several sets of them for different activities.

* Smells like a mix of wood (cedar or pine), soot/ash, aloe and maybe lavender or wild daisy.

* Skincare and haircare? He’s VERY serious about these. Aloe vera facial masks for soothing the itchiness of constant katonjutsu, washes face with caution, rice water to keep his hair shiny, protective hairstyles to not damage the long hair strands, bamboo hairbrush to retain the natural oils, etc.

* Either has thick straight hair or textured and slightly wavy hair, definitely cut in layers. The wavy hair would make more sense as it poofs up when dry but looks rather straight when wet, taking into account the scenes of the battle in the Valley of the End (thank you Indra for the wavy hair and gorgeous mane genetics). Definitely loves his hair, fav part about himself.

* The bandages above his ankles are to keep the pants in place because his calves are thin and not very muscular, a small insecurity when he was a teen.

* Speaking of the terrible teens, he got grumpy whenever he got a breakout, zit, etc.

* Has mixed/dry, sensible skin. Dealt with painful and itchy sores due to lack of skin hydration while in war.

* Is a bit ashamed of his height and body proportions (i.e. wishing he was taller, less lean and more bulky, broader shoulders). These were regular nuisances during his teens but he eventually controlled the insecurities in adulthood, not managing to make them disappear completely nonetheless.

🍡 food!

* The databooks say that his fav food is inarizushi, so I've added that he likes similar things: onigiri, temaki, nigirizushi, tamagoyaki or even gyoza.

* Eats with little pleasure, only to fuel his body or whatever. That changes when Konoha is founded and he can actually enjoy and taste his meals.

* Dislikes greasy foods. Not a fan of ramen or katsudon, gyoza has to be boiled and would never eat tempura or ebi furai.

* Has a sweet tooth. We're talking dango, wagashi, dorayaki and more. However, only Izuna knew about this. Can't have a clan leader that eats candy like a little child.

* Prefers his sake cold and drinks mostly umeshu in informal gatherings.

* Actually likes fruit. I have no reason for believing this but he has the face of a man who likes fresh fruit. Fav fruit is persimmons or apples.

* Was malnourished as a child, giving away his food to his brothers or clansmen. Eventually took a toll on his muscle growth and height.

* Eats very light breakfast (maybe tea and some rice with nori or miso soup with wakame), heavy lunch (meat or fish, rice, more tea and other side dishes), no dinner.

* Favourite tea is jasmine or pu'erh, mostly drinks green tea and actually enjoys a good ceremonial matcha.

Thanks for the fun ask! I legit have a google docs of 4 pages full of hcs 😭 please send more asks about him I need to dump my brainrot

#ask #madara #madara uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha madara #pro uchiha #naruto #founders era #madara headcanons #yay my first ask! #so happy to share my worringly high amount of headcanons! #if anyone reads this rb with your own hcs #madara 4 president #i want to give him a hair treatment or facial mask uwu