#cruelty-free investments

[boostcmg]

[kingconia]

hiiiiii! ugh, i am not sure if you take requests? but if you do, can i ask you leona one, where reader is the descendant of scar, and afterglow savanna always treats her like shit, thinking she will try to kill farena or leona?? idk tbh the dynamic between her and others, but maybe with a prompt "why are you keep protecting me?" "because if anyone kills you it will be me?" BUT NOT ANGSTY MORE LIKE CHEESY ONE like she is joking she has no plans to do so!!

(also maybe she is friend with azul bc both of them manipulative masterminds idk)

A/N: that's actually sounds so fun. i am genuinely invested, though, i had never thought that someone will ask me to write something. but, oh, darling, thank you. i would love do that more, so if anyone wants, i am open to your ideas.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR × READER, WHO IS SCAR'S DESCENDANT

warnings: not detailed mention of blood and some threats with mentions of gore? it is lighter than it sounds.

Hatred followed you from a very young age. And it wasn't necessarily yours.

You were six, when you learned to understand that kindness will not help you survive. But cruelty will.

Abandoned, throwed away, you were nothing in the world of kings and queens. Your whole existence were cursed from the day you made your first breath, and no one was going to tell you why. Why you were so hated by the whole country, by every single person in your motherland? Why your mother turned away from you? Why you were considered to be dangerous?

But the more you grew, the more you understood that it is for the better. Their hatred, their suspicion, their rage. It made you the independent person. The predator.

And you were fine with that.

At some point, you stopped caring about what all of them thought. Instead, it filled you with even more power to move forward.

And so you survived. Proudly, with chin up to the sky, ignoring the way others treated you.

Savannaclaw wasn't necessarily bad, though. You thought it will be; Farena Kingscholar never being kind to you, and his kingdom therefore, too. But Savannaclaw was different. There, your only king was Leona. And Leona didn't care whose descendant you were.

If anything, he never even took it seriously.

”Why the fuck I would care about that cursed king?” He spitted it out once, as Ruggie asked him in what he thought was a whisper, as you passed by. ”Stupid lion is dead for a long time. Why would she care about him, even?”

And that was it. Savannaclaw never acted like you were enemy, no one glared at you with participation, no one was suspicious about your every single world.

You were free.

And the freedom you had gained, finally, made your loyalty to Leona stronger.

So, you didn't really like, when someone offended him.

It was your job to annoy him, to try break his trust towards you by cynical remarks—”oh, my King, you shouldn't trust me with your nephew. What if I tear him apart?” or ”Tsh, tsh, little lion... Haven't your brother told you? You shouldn't really turn your back to the hungry animal,”—even if he never cared.

And if someone tried to steal your job... Well, that would be really-really bad.

”Remind me once again,” you yawned, throwing a grape in your mouth, ”why I am not allowed to fight that Pomfiore boy for you?”

Azul chuckled.

”You got almost expelled twice, tigerfish. I am flatted that you are willing to try it for me, too, but I have more interesting ways to get my revenge.”

Azul was probably the strangest friend you ever had—and you had the only one, who was Jack—but it wasn't necessarily bad. He always got you involved in his plans, and as both of you were thinking about this or that in complete solitude, scheming and laughing, you thought it actually was nice.

”I caught him applying foundation on his face a week ago,” you share with him quietly. ”On the whole face. And let me say, he is not that perfect without it, Zul.”

He gasped dramatically.

”And that after interview, where he says he hates unnatural beauty?!”

”Mhm.”

”Tigerfish, you are so cruel,” he smiled. ”I love it.”

”Sure you are,” your ears moved by itself and you turned your head on the right. ”Do you hear that?”

Voices. Very loud, very angry voices. Usually, you would ignore that, but it was a familiar scent that made you move forward, ignoring Azul's question.

”Are you fucking insane, Hunt?”

”Oi, oi, I only cared to see if you would react immediately!”

You groaned.

Fucking Pomfiore kids.

As you stepped closer, your annoyed expression shifted to a worried one. There was a crossbow in Rook's arms, and Leona was holding an arrow is his hand, face angry.

So, it was it: little hunter tried to hunt Leona down.

Before he acknowledged your presence, you moved forward, raising Rook by his collar, right from behind.

”Don't get frightened, little one,” you said, voice, despite a smirk, vicious. ”I only cared to see if you would react immediately.”

Leona scoffed.

”Aha, how nice! Jolie Lionne! Had you came to save your pretty prince from the trouble?”

You frowned.

”He is the king, hunter.” Your turned him to face you properly, still leaving him hanging in the air. ”Listen to me, sweet human, the next time I see you trying to shoot him, I will scratch your eyes with my claws, and eat them in front of your fake housewarden. And then, I am going to make a feast. Do you hear me?”

His face scrunched for a second, but he put his usual smile on the face rather quickly.

”My, my... We were merely playing! But, fine, fine. As you wish, jolie lionne!”

You freed him, and this time he was rather quick with leaving.

Other students shun you actively, so it wasn't surprising. Beyond Savannaclaw, Azul, and, well, Lillia Van Rouge, other either ignored your existence or avoided you in fear. You had one the hell of the reputation, and your own attitude never helped to fix the damage that rumours left on you.

”I didn't ask you to do that,” Leona clicked his tongue, moving to your right side.

”You never do,” you shrugged. ”I don't really care.”

Maybe it was the fact that you never denied his power, never looked down at him, that helped him to make a peace with the fact that you were so eager to protect him. Because, well, in the beginning, he thought it was offensive.

”You are so fucking strange that, do you know that?” You repeated your previous action, and he continued. ”If I were you, I would love to kill me. And my brother. Especially him. But you keep doing that. Keep guarding me like a lapdog. Why?”

Why?

You wondered about it too, once. But the answer came easily to you.

It was a boy with unusual scar on his young face that stared at you without hatred the first. Simply stared, without any particular emotion, and handed you a little red flower, before leaving.

And though, he probably didn't remember it...

It was still him, who looked at you without despise in his eyes, when both of you grew up, meeting here and there, as your presence should have been always controlled and seen by the royal family.

And it was him, who made Savannaclaw respect you, as he joined this school, a year later than you did.

It was always him.

”Having trouble with creating another lie?” He smirked, moving to stop in front of you, clearly disliking the fact that you ignore his presence.

”You want to know why, Leona?” You tilted your head, meeting his curious eyes. "Because I consider you to be the King, more than your brother ever will, and therefore, I should protect you.”

Before he opened his mouth, you caught him by the chin, moving him closer. He stared at you, not annoyed, but quite lost by this action. Your eyes shimmered with a familiar hunger that always lived inside you.

A hunger for fame. Acceptance. Peace. Blood. Cruelty.

Love.

”And because,” your lips brushed the corner of his, as you breathed out on his cheek, ”if anyone ever tries to rip out your golden heart, my King, it is going to be me.”

His lips curled in a same wicked smile that played on your face.

And as his arms fall on your hips, he accepted the game.

”What a coincidence,” his whisper came out like a purr. ”Because if ever try to rip our my heart, my dear Consort, I will allow it to you.”

A laugh that escaped your chest sounded so taunted that others would find it scary.

But you know Leona didn't. In fact, he enjoyed it very much.

And both of you had a very long journey to find out what else you enjoy about each other. Gladly, you had plenty of time for that.

[vapolis]

also as an IF author i feel as though you should be mentally prepared to deal with haters. even if your IF is popular you will still get haters, it's just part of the whole deal of putting your stuff out there. but i feel as though a lot of IF authors begin their blogs and can't handle the hate, and then just disappear despite all the love they get at the same time. which sucks bc i hate getting invested in something just for the author to delete it due to a few haters.

I see your point but I don't entirely agree.

I think there's a big difference between expecting people to dislike your work and actual haters. I've gotten some weird asks and others have suggested I change entire things about my wip and while some of it was voiced nicely, it's not really constructive.

as long as feedback (which is what people expect when they put themself and their work out there for others to consume and engage with) is worded constructively, it should be acknowledged as such by authors and not taken as a slight against their wip or their abilities to write.

but I've seen many examples of readers not doing that and instead attacking authors based on decisions made they didn't like or how they handled other things to do with their own game. there's been examples of people getting threatened to get doxxed and such and while I'm sure that's not what you mean when you say "haters" I completely understand why authors are reluctant to stay or to continue working on their wip. and they shouldn't be expected to just accept that cruelty.

at the end of the day, what we do is free. sure, there are patreons and ko-fi links etc flowing around and that's valid but the core wip is always free to play and to engage with and I personally understand why some authors don't want to deal with the entitlement some readers bring to the discussion even if most of the feedback is positive. I'm sure you know that negative feedback always sticks out more than positive even if that sucks as a reader that's grown attached to a game.

[dancermk]

HELLO MY FELLOW TRAVELERS!

I, like many viewers, have been completely entranced by Hawk and Tim’s love story in Fellow Travelers. As a mature queer person, this show has been very emotional, and I am deeply invested. (I WILL riot if Tim doesn’t get to die in Hawk’s arms, and know that he is, and has always been, loved by Hawk.) But I digress.

Something that I have been fascinated by are the differing opinions that have surfaced about the characters, especially Hawk. I’m not looking for any arguments here, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and this is simply mine. To me, Hawk falls hard and fast for Tim. He breaks all his own rules for Tim - they topple over like a house of cards.

When we are introduced to Hawk, he’s cold and heartless with the men he hooks up with - they are nothing more than a body to fulfil his sexual needs and desires. He doesn’t do repeats and he doesn’t bring them home. But Tim, he instantly begins returning to, gets him a job, then allows him into his own apartment, etc. When Tim pushes back, Hawk relents further, letting him in emotionally, sharing parts of his past, crossing lines by introducing him to others in his circle, and so on.

Hawk is a traumatised man, carrying guilt and anger and shame, and a bucket load of fear! Yes, he has some internalised homophobia, but interestingly, he’s also extremely righteous about his homosexuality -and I don’t believe he thinks being gay is wrong in any way. (His response to his father is indicative of this).

I can personally say that I’ve never thought it was wrong to be queer, yet I spent much of my life hiding who I was and feeling shame. It’s an odd thing! Perhaps it is that the shame forms purely from what is outside of us, while what is inside of us can love another person of the same sex, knowing it is right and pure. Perhaps these contradictions between self and society are what causes so much pain and conflict?

But back to Hawk. Hawk is undoubtedly most affected by his teenage first love experience. A love that he fucked up through his own fears (fear for many men is unacceptable and a sign of weakness), and now carries the burden of believing he is responsible for their death. Hawk doesn’t allow himself to love again, until Tim. And we see many times throughout the show how much Hawk fears losing Tim. And in the end he’ll have to face that fear. I think that, in part, not attempting to have a life with Tim, is also fuelled by his fear of fucking it up and losing Tim - so it’s easier to just not attempt it! In episode 7, when he loses his son, part of that spiral is Hawk recognising that he can’t really prevent loss, and he wasted his life trying to be something he’s not - still losing his child and Tim along with it.

But Hawk is a survivor! And no one has the right to hate or judge him for it. I don’t think some young people truly understand what it feels like to live in a world where who you love can put you in jail, and destroy your life. I grew up in the 70s/80s and my experiences were bad enough, but I try so very hard to think about what it was like before that! When being queer was a crime and a mental illness! That’s pure terror! And for Hawk, he chose to survive the best way he knew how, and he wasn’t able to change because that’s fucking hard when all you’ve known is living in constant ‘fight or flight,’ and when have chronic trauma and experience collective trauma.

I think in episode 8 we’ll finally get to see Hawk grow - I certainly hope so - because he deserves to be free. Our beautiful Skippy has been free for some time, and while we mourn for the cruelty of a world that would take such a truly decent man, I am glad he got to live freely. Being closeted is the worst kind of suffering- a compartmentalised and fragmented existence where you are never truly whole, and therefore can never be the best version of yourself.

Before I go, I just wanted to also talk about being in a closeted relationship-which I experienced in my youth. I think that Hawk and Tim’s intense and toxic and exquisitely beautiful relationship, in part, arises from this. Because two closeted people in love live their relationship in secret, in a bubble, only in certain rooms, with none of the outside world reflected back at them. It becomes the two of you against the world. It’s so insular. Hawk and Tim literally live their 1950s relationship within two rooms - their apartments. All their memories are held within those walls. And it only belongs to them. They know each in ways that no other living soul does. It’s all-consuming and often unhealthy, but also stupidly romantic.

Anyway, sorry for this long winded post that no one will read and is likely full of grammatical errors because I’m tired! This atheist is praying we get everything we need from episode 8! Acceptance, forgiveness, understanding resolution, healing and a whole lot of love! ❤️

Cheers queers! 🏳️‍🌈

PS Matt and Johnny are exquisite on and off screen and I am so thankful to them for bringing these characters and this story into our lives!

[domini-porter]

Quick reminder for Americans: even if you don’t like either presidential candidate, there are so many more things to vote for on your ballot.

If you think president is too big and amorphous or too corrupt and rigged, what about the elections in your town? Everything starts small and local. Where you’re one of a much more tangible number than 300,000,000. Even in big cities things are broken down into smaller chunks where your vote counts with greater weight.

Also, you’re not obligated to cast a vote for everything on the ballot! Just the ones you feel like!

Okay.

I’m trying to be kind about this but it’s difficult. Voting isn’t difficult. People are asking you to choose between options and you choose the option that seems best. That’s it. People fight and die even now for your right to do this. To read a pamphlet (optional!) and fill out a form. That’s it.

The other thing is this: someone on that form will win. No matter what. One of those names will be in charge. Not because it’s rigged, but because those are the people you get to pick from, and one of them will win. That is how every election for anything works.

Anyway. This next part is for my purity-test leftists specifically, but who knows, maybe it applies to you too!

Who do you think you’re helping by sitting out a vote that could determine if I, personally—a real human person and maybe your friend or acquaintance or loved one—am branded a deviant and an undesirable and a criminal and imprisoned or worse? People in Gaza who are certainly drinking in your social media posts like a healing elixir and thinking wow, I’m so grateful Westerners are using my suffering to buff up their own moral purity, I’m really glad they’re refusing to participate in a free and democratic election, that’s so cool and helpful to me, personally?

The fucking gall of you. The privilege and heartlessness of you. The laziness and cruelty and selfishness of you. Just say you’re too invested in looking like a galaxy-brain iconoclast to give ten minutes of your time to help me not live every second of my life—which is happening next door or down the street or a neighborhood over from you, right now, every day—in fear and despair. Get just so absolutely fucked.

For everyone else: check your voter registration if you’re unsure or live in a state prone to purging its voter rolls! If you can vote early, vote as early as you can!

If you’ve never voted before but have decided this year’s the year, that’s so amazing and I’m so excited and it’s super-easy and honestly at least kind of fun; I guarantee your voter guide will have some amazing weirdos in it, because it’s America and everyone can try for it. But if you don’t vote—you, in your much-smaller voting pool than you might realize—those weirdos running to outlaw ducks have a distressingly better shot. And once they’re on the city council, maybe they run for mayor. And then state rep. And so on.

Please don’t be one of those people who claims their voice isn’t heard and decides to self-fulfill that prophecy by refusing to use their voice at all. It has real, lasting, immediate consequences for people you see every day. It has real, lasting consequences for you, too; consequences that really make spending ten minutes filling out a scantron seem a lot less difficult in retrospect.

Vote like your life depends on it. And if it doesn’t, you have my explicit permission to vote like mine does.

[beebopboom]

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter

Yep! That’s right we are diving back into season 1, specifically with the last true witch, Agnes Nutter

This first part is mainly going to deal with what is in her book and is largely just a reference point. This will cover all the prophecies we know about and the images included in her book that I could find

Further analysis and theories will start in part two

-> which you can click here to read if you’d like

But other than that let’s just dive in

Prophecies 

Most of these we know and we see play out but there are a few stragglers- (which I’m not going to go into in this series just for the sole reason my very ill brain cannot handle them right now, maybe in the future)

Prophecy 1111: "An the Great Hound Sharl come and the Two Powers sharl watch in... Goeth where is its Master, Where the... Notte, and he shall name it, True to... and Hell shall flee it."

Prophecy 2214: "In December 1980, an Apple will arise no man can eat. Invest thy money in Master Jobbes's machine, and good fortune will tend thy days."

Prophecy 2213: "I tell ye this, and I charge ye with my wordes. Four shall ride, and three shall ride the sky as two, and one shall ride in flames, and there shall be no stopping them. Not fish, nor rain, neither devil or angel. And ye shall be there also, Anathema."

Prophecy 2315: "Sum say It cometh in London Town, or New Yorke, butte they be Wronge, for the place is Taddes Fild, Stronge inne hys powr, he cometh like a knight innne the fief, he divideth the Worlde into 4 partes, he bringeth the storme.

Prophecy 3001: "Behind the Eagle's Neste, a great Ash hath fallen.

Prophecy 3007: "Prayers and hope ... / Brings forth sorrow and serpents reign / For the devil lucks in plain sight / Under an arc of pale moonlight."

Prophecy 3008: "When that the angel readeth these words of mine, in his shoppe of other menne's books, then the final days are certes upon us. Open thine eyes to understand. Open thine eyes and rede, I do say, foolish principalitee, for thy cocoa doth grow cold."

Prophecy 3009: "Seven who hold the Scepter shall be killed...of them shall become a saint."

Prophecy 3011: "The exer... and churches be laid open to ... oppressed shall prevail, and oppose the cruelty of foreigners. For a Boar of Cornwall shall give his assistance, and trample their necks under his feet."

Prophecy 3012: "A shower of blood shall rain, and a raging famine shall afflict mankind. When these things happen, the Red Dragon shall grieve, but when his fatigue is over he shall recover his strength. Then shall misfortunes hasten upon the White Dragon, and the buildings of his gardens be pulled down."

Prophecy 3017: "I see Four Riding, bringing the Ende and the Angells of Hell ride with them, And three shall Rise. And Four and Four Together be Four and the Dark Angel sharl Own Defeat, Yette the Manne sharl claim his Own."

Prophecy 3477: Lette the wheel of Fate turne, let harts en-join, there are othere fyres than mine; when the wynd blowethe the blos-soms, reach oute one to anothere, for the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Blacke and Pale approche to Peas is Our Professioune.

Prophecy 3817: "The Number of the Beast is in the Revelayting of Sainte John, call hym in Taddesfield. And ye will know hym by this sign, that when ye do call hym, the Lesser Beaste will walk upon his hind legs like unto a Dancing Bear."

Prophecy 3819: "When Orient's chariot inverted be, four wheles in the skye, a man with bruises be upon Youre Bedde, aching his hedd for willow fine, a manne who testeth with a pyn yette his hart be.

Prophecy 3988: "Whene menne of crocus come frome the Earth and green manne frome the Sky, yette ken not why, and Pluto's barres quitte the Light-ning castels, and sunken lands riseth, and Levia-than runneth free, and Brazil is vert, then Three cometh together and Four arise, upon iron horses ride; I tell you the ende draweth nigh."

Prophecy 3989: "He is not what he says he is."

Prophecy 4009: "Where the Hogg's back ends the young beast will take the world and Adam's line will end in fire and darkness."

Prophecy 4019: "When Orient's Chariot Inverted be a man with bruises up thy bed, aching his head for willow fine."

Prophecy 4020: "Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another."

Prophecy 5001: "When the skies are crimson seen, then ye both must stand between the world of life and the world of war, where the iron bird lands no more."

Prophecy 5004: "When alle is sayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enouff, ye will be playing with fyre."

and that’s all of them I believe so let’s hop into the images I could find

Artworks

Starting out on the very first page we have this

Now I could not find an exact reference to this (I know starting out strong just stay with me) but between the examples I could find plus the four wings surrounding the head I would say this is depicting a Cherubim

This next one is from the actual book itself,

This is the piece, Saint John Devouring the Book by Albrecht Dürer (1498) which was published alongside 15 other woodcut illustrations in his book, Apocalypse, all covering events in Revelations

Now we are moving into pieces that we see in the little montage moments so the images are a little less clear

This piece, Saint Michael Slaying the Dragon, is by Martin Schongauger done sometime between 1480-1490

The next piece was actually a two for one which made my job a little easier and let this post only be one part *curse you image limit*

Chariot Vision, which is by Matthäus Merian depicting Ezekiel’s vision in Ezekiel 1:5 (I couldn’t find when it was made -and now that I’m really looking at it the wheels are a little different but I’m confident enough to say it’s from the same story so the point will still stands)

and finally we have this one

With help from @gallup24 and some image manipulation finally found this piece, The Minde bould hare a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High.

I believe to be published first along side other emblems by Gabrielis Rollenhagii in 1613 it was reprinted in 1635 with added hymns by George Wither in his emblem book

the hymn reads

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by fome, was us’d,

When in an Emblem, they would fignifie

A Minde, which on Celeftiall Matters mus’d :

Implying, by this fame, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can fee,

So fit an Object for manly thought,

As thofe things, which in Heav’n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the reft of his peculiar Featares)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphares,

The piercing Eye, of his tatelligence,

Then, higher, and fill higher ftrive to raife

His Contemplations Eyes, till they alcend

To gaine a glimple of thofe eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits rend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fehly Thoughts corrupt it) to delpile

Thole Lufts whereto the Rody ftands inclin'd ;

And labour alwayes, upmard to arife.

Some, theretore, thought thofe Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of fuch,

Who to thefe loathfome places doomed were,

Becaule, they doted on the Fleh too much.

But, ture weare, well-minded Men thall god

To live above, when others bide below.

(also if you want a really good breakdown of the publishers of, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, check out the one @i-only-ever-asked-questions posted one here)

————————————————————————

so yeah that’s all I could find and like I said this is mainly just a reference post

and yes I am aware that one very obvious piece is missing that seems to be made just for this book. I ran out of images so i’ll post it in a rb

[euovennia]

the archer | könig

so sorry to keep you all waiting (especially the anon who requested this), i got a bit too invested and this ended up being just over 8k words...whoops. anyway, it's finally here and i'm excited for you all to read it! thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3 (also thank you for getting this blog to over 1,000 followers, that's insane!!! thank you so much!!!)

pairing: könig x fem!reader

warnings: angst, könig being a little toxic, brief mention of injuries, discussion about the insufferable behavior of dolphins

summary: the difficult journey of loving a man who doesn't think he's worthy of love (based on this request)

Combat, I’m ready for combat

I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?

‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

König rises from his makeshift bed on the floor with a sharp gasp as his left hand raises itself from his side to rest upon his heart that seemed to be beating too fast and too slow all at once. His eyes briefly fall onto the sleeping faces of his fellow comrades as he lets out a few shaky breaths in an attempt to calm himself down from the unfortunate dream he’d stirred awake from. After a few moments of half-assed breathing exercises and clenching and unclenching the hand that wasn’t resting upon his chest, he can almost feel his body become lighter as his panic slowly begins to fizzle out into something calmer. Even so, he can’t help but notice the small spike of dread that tugs at his heartstrings when the image of you settles into his mind. The feeling is illogical, that much he knows, but as his gaze drifts over to the door of the master bedroom in the safe house the team was currently occupying, he can’t seem to stop his mind from spiraling. Once ensuring his infamous black hood is properly secured over his face, he quietly rises to his feet before stalking off toward the door of the master bedroom and opening it. He gives the room a quick glance before fully stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. His eyes trail along the rundown walls of the room before eventually landing on your figure that’s sitting on the cushioned seats of the window nook as you peer into the darkness of the night, gun propped up by your side along with a small leather bound journal with the accompanying pen being expertly twirled around your nimble fingers. Not wanting to stare any longer in an effort to avoid coming across as creepy, he begins walking closer in your direction before stopping just a few feet shy of you.

You don’t spare him a glance as you begin to speak, “You’re up late.”

He shrugs, “Bad dream.”

You offer him a small hum before tearing your gaze away from the window and give the open spot beside you a few pats. He eyes you for a few moments before stepping forward and taking a seat beside you, body stiff and face expressionless. Not that you’d be able to tell the difference anyway.

You lean against the wall as you nudge his thigh with your boot causing the muscle to twitch. You pretend not to notice.

“What was your dream about?”

His lips settle into a small frown before responding, “It’s not important.”

He rips his gaze away from you in favor of staring at the floorboards and he misses the way you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“So you just like being in here with me then?”

Yes.

He shakes his head, “No. Just wanted to check on you, make sure you didn’t fall asleep.”

A huff of laughter escapes you, “That was one time–”

He interrupts you, “One time too many, I’m afraid.”

You raise your hands in defense before continuing, “Well…You’ve checked on me and now you know I’m not asleep. You’re free to leave now, König.”

He clenches his fists once more upon hearing his callsign fall from your lips. Surely you know what you do to him, right?

“I’d rather not.”

You quirk a brow up, “Why not?”

He keeps his gaze steady on the ground, “I’m not tired.”

Him not being tired is a perfectly reasonable thing to say. At least, it would’ve been if he hadn't let a massive yawn slip past his lips the moment he told the small fib.

“Not tired, hm?”

He can’t help but feel thankful for the hood that’s currently draped over his head, less opportunity for you to see the blush that dusts across his face as he tries to ignore the way your eyes pierce into him.

Upon receiving no response you sit up straighter, “Is this about your dream?”

The way he seems to close in on himself tells you everything. Your lips pull into a small frown as you fidget with your hands, willing yourself to say something.

“I’m afraid of dolphins,” You blurt out.

Your expression morphs into one of mild embarrassment as his eyes snap over to you, a curious glint shining back at you.

It’s hard to miss the incredulity in his tone as he speaks, “What?”

You firmly plant your hands against your knees as you continue, “Dolphins scare me.”

A small smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “Wait till you hear about sharks.”

“I’m actually not afraid of sharks.”

His eyes widened in surprise, “Really? How’d you manage that?”

You let out a small exhale, “I’ve done a fair bit of research into sharks and dolphins over the years, and I’ve found that dolphins are infinitely more terrifying than sharks.”

He straightens out his back, intrigued as he motions for you to continue with a wave of his hand.

“Dolphins are really horny–”

He can’t hold back the small bout of laughter that falls from his lips, “That’s why you’re scared of them?”

You frantically shake your head as you try to fight back a smile, “No it’s not ‘cause of that, you didn’t let me finish!”

“Well then you better hurry or else I’m gonna think you’re scared of dolphins cause they like sex.”

You ignore the heat that spreads through your cheeks as you continue, “It’s their horniness that makes them scary. Male dolphins have a high sex drive, and sometimes it makes them a bit…aggressive in their approach for sex.”

König nods his head in understanding at your words before you continue speaking, “They’ve been known to murder their own offspring so they can immediately be ready for another pregnancy. Hell, sometimes they’ll even go around murdering other aquatic animals and their babies just for fun!”

König’s eyes widen at your statement, “Really?”

You nod, “Yes! Sometimes they get so bored that they’ll start going around killing other animals just to have some fun. They always make it so brutal too.”

He cringes, “Didn’t think they did all that. I always thought they were cute.”

You scrunch your nose in distaste, “Absolutely not. Besides, I’m not alone in my fear of dolphins. Sharks are actually quite scared of them too. They’ve even been known to check their surroundings to make sure there aren’t any dolphins around before they sleep because dolphins will actually hunt them if food’s been scarce.”

König leans against the wall behind him, “That’s heavy.”

“It is, isn’t it? Dolphins are jerks.”

He nods in agreement, “Dolphins are jerks.”

A comfortable silence pervades the room as you take a few moments to peer out through the window as his mind steadily falls back into the throes of his all too familiar dream. A grimace comes to rest upon his face as his mind begins to wander off from the anti-dolphin rhetoric newly placed in his head by you in favor of staring at his hands, the same hands that have delivered death to dozens of enemy soldiers who were up to no good.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he continues to stare down at his hands, but after a few moments, he can’t help but notice the heaviness that begins to weigh down on his chest.

They were all bad people up to no good…right?

He lets out an exasperated sigh causing you to turn your attention back on the large man beside you.

“What’s on your mind, König?”

He nearly cries in frustration. How could he resist telling you anything when you call his name so sweetly? He plants his hands on his thighs as he keeps his gaze steady on the floor.

“Do you think we’re good people?”

Your brows scrunch together in confusion as your head tilts to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean–”

He lets out a small sigh as he attempts to gather his thoughts together.

“–With the things we do…Our job. Do you think we’re good people?”

The confusion on your face smoothes out.

���I think so. We’re helping the world, aren’t we?”

König breaks his focus from the floor to look up at you.

“Is it really that simple though? Are we really able to write off all the horrible things we’ve done to other people just because we help another group of people? Do we have that authority?”

As his small line of questioning comes to a close, your eyes settle on your rifle that’s pressed up against the wall beside you. You let out a small breath of air as you start to speak.

“Well, when you put it like that, maybe we aren't such good people.”

His gaze falters.

“But I don’t think we’re bad people either.”

The question tumbles from his lips before he can do anything to stop it, “Do you think I’m a good person?”

He watches as your eyes glaze over with something he’s not quite able to distinguish, something soft.

“I think you’re a good person,” You quietly admit before turning the question back on him, “Do you think you’re a good person?”

He fights off the urge to gnaw on his bottom lip.

“I try to be.”

You offer him a gentle smile, “Then that’s all that matters.”

He seems to think about your words for a few moments before giving you a slow nod.

“That’s all that matters,” He affirms.

You reach over and grab onto his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away and turning your focus back onto the window. He looks down at that same hand, a familiar warmth he found could only be provided by you as he tries to slow the way his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He takes in a few deep breaths before looking back up at you and admiring the way the moonlight seems to caress your features. He presses his lips together in a thin line as he recalls the countless speeches he’d scrawled on random pieces of paper neatly tucked away in his desk drawer at his apartment. With you vigilantly keeping watch beside him, he can’t help but wonder if one day he’ll ever let you read them.

Easy they come, easy they go

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold onto you

“Please say something,” You practically beg as you stare up at König who seems to have frozen in place.

Despite the overwhelming urge he has to lift the hood up off his face, place his large hands on your cheeks, and pull you toward him in a loving kiss, he finds that he can’t bring himself to do such a thing.

Everything just feels so wrong. The once soft and warm glow from the lights above the two of you fill his very being dread as they seem to cast a daunting shadow over your figure he swears hadn’t previously been there. The bright white walls of the building seem to fade into a dismal shade of grey as his eyes catch onto the multiple cracks and stains that litter them; had the walls always looked this miserable? He can practically feel his skin go up in flames as he becomes all too aware of the clothes he’s wearing. He had dressed himself in some of his most comfortable clothes, so why did they suddenly feel so tight and suffocating as they clung to his body?

And you.

When did your soft and loving eyes turn into two cesspools of unbridled fear and anxiety? Where have your kind eyes gone? Why are you looking at him like that? Is it because he hasn’t said anything since you’d pulled him aside and put all your cards on the table? Is it because you told him you had fallen in love with him and he didn’t even have the decency to utter a single word in response? Do you hate him for it?

With every second that ticks by, he can feel his composure slipping away as he feels your stare melt into him. It’s become far too much to handle far too quickly. He needs to get away. Get away from the walls that he can just feel closing in on him. Get away from the floor that he practically begs to swallow him whole. Get away from the one who haphazardly ripped his carefully crafted walls down and forced him to feel so exposed and turn into such a pitiful disaster.

He needs to get away from you.

And so without even bothering to spare you a glance, he quickly maneuvers around your body and walks away from the conversation in hopes of finding refuge somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Anywhere away from you.

He doesn’t.

I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

The past two weeks had been nothing short of miserable, courtesy of König. Ever since he’d left you stranded in that godforsaken hallway, you’d made it your personal mission to track him down in even the most bizarre places around base. In fact, you can distinctly remember how he’d nearly fallen off the roof of a building he’d climbed on top of after you came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with no warning. Even after you’d grabbed onto his arm and helped him regain his footing, he merely ripped his arm away from you before climbing back down the building, but not before glaring down at you with his eyes narrowed in a look of contempt. It would’ve hurt more if you hadn’t already become used to it.

Despite his unbothered exterior that only became bothered when you were around, he wasn’t faring any better. If he wasn’t forced into seeing the look of anguish that flooded your irises every time he turned away from you, he was forced to see it in his memory as he recalled the way he selfishly left you to pick up the pieces of the heart he shattered when he made the decision to leave you all alone in that hallway. The same hallway that he now has to practically run through in a feeble attempt to fend off the sinking feeling that festers deep within his very being.

By no means was he proud of the way he was treating you, he despised it. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to sweep you up into his arms and guard you with his life but he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing. No, not with the line of work the two of you had found yourselves in. Not when you were forced to tread the line of death every couple of weeks to fulfill a mission that, ultimately, would be forgotten about in just a few months time, if even that.

He’d seen the strain put on relationships as a result of the job in the form of the various failed romances his fellow soldiers had pursued. Lack of communication, not living up to your partner’s expectations, and the all too common issue of infidelity. While each was unfortunate, there was one thing that he himself could barely wrap his head around; the death of your significant other. He played witness to the way the surviving half of the relationship always seemed to crumble in on themselves as the dreaded news fell onto them far too many times. He knew it was a special kind of pain, one he doubted he’d ever recover from if it was him on the receiving end of such a tumultuous life event. He knew it was silly in a way. How can one be a soldier and not be comfortable with death? He’s not quite sure himself, but he simply chooses to ignore it. The day he feels comfortable with death is the day he officially loses himself.

The thought almost makes him chuckle.

Lose myself, he thinks, Haven’t I done that already?

He lays on his back as he stares up at the ceiling, hood pulled off his head and discarded on the small end table beside his bed. He remains silent as his mind thinks back to the conversation you had with him months ago.

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

“I think you’re a good person…Do you think you’re a good person?”

“I try to be.”

The memory is almost enough to make him start ripping his hair out with his bare hands. You saw him struggling with himself, with his morality, and you, perhaps one of the kindest souls he’s ever come to know, reached out and placated him with your loving gaze and gentle reassurance. You offered him a guiding light of hope in his moment of darkness. And how had he repaid you? By becoming the cold and callous monster he had always thought himself to be? By taking all of his worst fears and projecting them onto you? How can you claim him as a good person when it seems he’s indifferent to the way his recent mean streak affects you so deeply? He can’t help but wonder what you think of him now. Do you resent him for treating you so poorly? Do you wish you could take back your previous judgment of him? The thought of you regretting the words that once brought him great comfort is almost too much to bear, but he knows he can’t blame you if you do.

His bout of self-loathing is broken by the abrupt sound of his door slamming open. He quickly sits up in his bed, eyes wide with alarm and body stiff with anxiety. He can feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest before his eyes land on you standing in his doorway, jaw slack and face painted with nerves. He’s almost tempted to ask why you’re staring at him that way until he feels the slightest breeze brush against his face, his bare face that you’re now gawking at. He tears his eyes away from your frozen figure before landing on the hood sitting on his bedside table, taunting him.

“König…I’m so s–”

The meek sound of your voice pushes him over the edge and before he can stop himself he abruptly stands up from his place on the bed before staring down at you with a fire in his eyes.

“Get. Out,” He practically seethes.

You back up from him by a few inches as you try not to stumble over your next words, “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t–”

Your weak attempt at explaining yourself is cut off by his cruel tone, one you’d quickly realized was specially reserved for those he didn’t trust; enemies.

“What don’t you understand? I don’t want you here, you’re not welcome.”

You try your best to not let his words affect you so much, but what else are you supposed to do when the man you love doesn’t want you?

“König please, no. I just,” You take in a shaky breath as you blink away the small line of tears that well up in your eyes, “I just wanted to talk. To hear your voice. I miss you.”

A part of you expects him to soften up, to look down at you and wrap his arms around you as he whispers an endless stream of apologies in your ear. What he does instead nearly crushes you.

“I don’t care.”

It’s as if the Earth stops spinning on its axis as his words sink in. This time you don’t bother to blink away the tears that blur your vision, you let them cascade down your cheeks. It’s embarrassing. You can’t help but feel like a fool. How could you ever expect someone as wonderful as him to love someone like you? The pain in your chest is too much. You find you can’t bring yourself to spare him another glance as you turn around on your heel and hurry out of his room, one hand firmly placed on your chest as if to stop the hurt that consumes you while your other hand wipes away the tears that are freely falling down your face. You don’t bother stopping when the concern of your fellow teammates falls onto your ears. It hurts too much.

With his eyes locked on the empty space in his doorway you occupied just a few moments ago, he takes a few steps forward and shuts the door before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He stares numbly at the wooden floorboards pressed against his socked feet before he catches a glimpse of his hood out the corner of his eye. He reaches forward and grabs onto it, mindlessly toying with the edges of the fabric.

He had finally shown you the monster.

Dark side, I search for your dark side

But what if I’m all right, right, right, right here?

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face

Then hate my reflection for years and years

After the last disastrous encounter you had with König, you quickly decided it was best for you to keep your distance. The days of you actively seeking him out in hopes of smoothing things over were long gone and you instead filled up your newfound free time by busying yourself with various tasks around base all the while, unbeknownst to you, König had his eyes locked onto you. Granted, it’s not something he’s proud of. How could he be after he practically banished you from all aspects of his life? It wasn’t his place. Even so, he couldn’t help the way his eyes subconsciously seemed to seek out your presence in every room he stepped in. A part of him told him it was because he wanted to know which area of the room to avoid, but a bigger part of him knew it was because he missed you.

Hypocritical bastard, he chastises himself, You brought this on yourself.

And despite knowing that to be fact, he still can’t seem to rip his eyes away from you. It’s a habit that brings him both shame and comfort. Shame because it’s a harsh reminder of the one he deprived himself of, but comfort in knowing you were still kind and gracious as ever despite his insensitive behavior. It’s a blessing and a curse for it was the kindness you extended to him with no hesitation that first made his heart flutter. Your good-hearted nature and willingness to put in the time and effort to become his friend is something he holds very near and dear to his heart, it was one of the many reasons he fell so hopelessly in love with you. The way your eyes would sparkle as you’d wait for him to gather his thoughts, not once showing an ounce of annoyance or even a glimmer of impatience as you hung onto every word and syllable that fell from his mouth, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful that someone was so determined, so willing to become his friend that they’d suffer through the short and sometimes frequent bouts of silence as he tried to verbalize all his thoughts and opinions. It didn’t help that you were so gorgeous.

But now as he sits alone in the corner of the mess hall, tray filled with perhaps some of the most unappetizing food available on the planet, he fears that it was all for nothing. All the energy you’d spent solely on trying to understand him, now worthless as you purposefully avoid his gaze despite the goosebumps that rise along your skin. He tells himself it’s for the better, that eventually, you’d leave him. Whether it be by the unforgiving hands of war or the desire to go out and find someone new, someone better. The thought of you moving on from him like that hurt more than he’d ever care to admit.

But seeing the way you welcome a few other soldiers to your table with your signature grin, he couldn’t fight off the small smile that tugged at the edge of his lips. He watches as you fall into easy conversation with the unfamiliar men and women, each of their faces sporting an effortless smile as you do seemingly everything in your power to make them as comfortable as possible around you. You’ve always been sweet like that.

And despite the way his heart warms seeing you fall back into your natural habits, a small stab of pain makes itself apparent in his chest as he comes to the stark realization that you’re too good for him, too pure. The sudden awareness of this is almost enough to make him sick to his stomach. How can he allow himself to taint such a bright, shining light in favor of lighting up his own dark and lonely path? Truth is, he couldn’t. Not when it was you. If anything, he’d rather you ignore his looming presence for all eternity if it meant you got to remain bright and shiny. He could brave the torrential storm that was his mind on his own, as long as you were safe and happy.

With this in mind, he picks up his half eaten tray of food and dumps it in the trash bins before walking toward the exit of the mess hall. He allows himself one last glance of your smiling face as you animatedly talk about god knows what. He’d hate himself for this later when he’s alone and overthinking in the comfort of his own room, but for now, he lets your bright smile engrave itself into his memory.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is one fire, invisible smoke

And all of my heroes die all alone

Help me hold onto you

It wasn’t uncommon for members of the team to be hand-picked for a mission, especially if the mission presented itself to be relatively simple. So when he heard just over a week ago that you departed base along with a few other soldiers he’d seen around base, he didn’t really give it much thought. Of course there was a small pool of worry that bubbled up in his stomach, but by this point he’d worked with you on the field so much that there wasn’t a shred of doubt in terms of your capability to get the mission completed. Rarely was there ever a time where you came back from a mission with anything more than a couple bumps and bruises, it was standard.

But the moment he walked into the common room only to be met with the somber expressions of his teammates one afternoon, he knew something had gone wrong. He anxiously listened as one of the men occupying the room explained that the mission you and a few others had gone on to retrieve valuable intel about a newly formed terrorist group had actually turned out to be a ruse to get you in their line of fire so they could eliminate you. It felt as if the world had come crashing down so as soon as he was made aware of what hospital you were being treated at, he didn’t hesitate to turn around and make his way over to you as quickly as possible.

As if the pure horror of the situation wasn’t bad enough already, the ache that spread throughout his body was only amplified when he finally arrived at the hospital just to be told you were currently in surgery. As much as he wanted to go to the surgical floor and rip apart every room until he found you, he forced himself to stay in check before resigning himself to a chair that was far too small for him to get comfortable in. He didn’t mind, however, he’d happily sit on a pile of nails if it meant getting the chance to see you once more.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the chair in the stuffy waiting room looking desperate and forlorn, all he seemed to be able to focus on at the moment was the nervous twitch of his hands every few minutes. A few of the other members from the team have since joined him in the waiting room, each busying themselves by tapping and swiping away at their phones. He didn’t think to bring his, he was too busy worrying about you.

After what felt like an unreasonably long time, König’s attention broke at the sound of your last name being called out. He quickly shot up without his chair and made his way over to the surgeon who was still clad in their scrubs with a disposable mask hung around their neck.

“Her injuries were rather significant so it was touch and go for a while, but she managed to pull through,” The man announced with a reassuring smile.

König didn’t even have to think about his reply, “So what happens now?”

The doctor glanced down at his watch before responding, “She’s due to wake up in a few minutes. She’s still coming down from the anesthesia so she’ll be a bit out of it, but that shouldn’t last longer than an hour, maybe even a bit less than that. A nurse will come out shortly and she’ll be able to take you to see her.”

He nods, “Thank you.”

The surgeon offers him a small smile before walking away leaving König to bask in his own thoughts. All of the hurt, anger, and dread that made itself at home in the depths of his being seemed to melt away at the prospect of him soon being able to see you, alive and breathing. The pure relief that washed over him was almost enough to forget about his piss poor treatment of you.

He’s startled by a gentle tap on his shoulder. He looks in the direction of where the timid touch had come from and he comes face to face with a woman dressed in dark purple scrubs and a caring smile on her face.

“Are you ready to see her?”

He simply nods.

The walk to your room is quiet as it is short. It makes him feel uneasy. Even in your loopy state, what would your reaction be to seeing him? Would you be happy, or would you rightfully scorn him into oblivion with a sharp glare and words dipped in poison? He couldn’t say, and it shook him to his core.

He offers the polite nurse a small nod of his head before stepping into the harshly lit room, his mind going blank as soon as he lays his eyes on you. His eyes roam over your body. From the bruises that blossom across your soft skin, the cuts that falsely state their claim over your body, the superficial burn markings that run up and down your arms, all the way to the wad of gauze firmly taped to your chest underneath your hospital gown. He can’t help but recall the words of the soldiers who sat patiently beside him in the waiting room.

“Just a couple more inches to the left and the bullet woulda nicked her heart.”

The thought of it makes him cringe. He grabs onto a chair and gingerly pulls it up to your bedside before taking a seat. His eyes slowly rake up your body as he takes in your various injuries before his gaze settles on your face. In spite of the cuts and bruises present, he can’t help but the way his heart all but flutters. He studies the curves of your face, a familiar warmth that only you could bestow upon him spreading to every corner of his body. He brings a careful hand up to the slope of your jaw and he allows his fingers to gently trail along the soft skin before eventually stopping just beneath the delicate skin of your lips. His fingers gently caress the outer corner of your lips before quickly yanking them back when you begin to stir, a soft groan of pain voiced into the air. He watches with great interest as your eyes begin to flutter open before settling onto him.

You stare at him for a moment almost in disbelief before calling out to him, “König?”

His hand quickly finds its place in yours, “I’m here.”

Your hand grips his tighter as your mind remains hazy, “Will you stay?”

The hand that wasn’t latched in yours finds its way back up to your face as he rests it carefully across your cheek, “Just until you fall asleep again, maus.”

You can’t find it in yourself to dissect his words as you offer him a simple smile. A smile that refuses to leave his mind even as he disconnects himself from you once more after you’ve fallen asleep. A smile he’ll hold onto until the end of time.

‘Cause they see right through me

They see right through me

They see right through

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

I see right through me

Despite it only being your second day back on base after spending the previous five days cooped up in your overly sterile hospital room, the team received an urgent mission, a mission that required the assistance of nearly everyone on the team. Word of this mission spread through the team like wildfire before eventually reaching you. While you were a bit disheartened that the friends who had become more like family to you weren’t able to be around for your recovery, you didn’t mind. The job comes first and you were fine with it.

Your commanding officer however, wasn’t. It was bad enough that you were out of commission due to his misjudgement of a mission, but he felt it was even worse to leave you stranded when you needed them most. As a result, he had gone up to König with the special request of having him stay back on base to help take care of you. He didn’t have it in his heart to say no.

So here you were, sitting in an awkward silence with König over some takeout he’d gotten you both for dinner. He had his hood pulled up just enough to reveal his mouth so he could eat. When you caught sight of this, you nearly opened your mouth to suggest he take it off completely, but your voice died in your throat as soon as you remembered what happened the last time you saw him without his black hood. Disheartened by the memory, you pack up the last bit of food and push it away from you. He looks up at you with an inquisitive stare that makes you feel smaller than normal.

You clear your throat, “I’m going to change my bandages.”

He eyes you down for a few moments longer before nodding his head. You can barely hold back a sigh of relief the moment his piercing gaze removes itself from your body and instead focuses itself on his food. Pulling yourself up from your seat, you begin making your way over to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door behind you before pulling out the bag filled with all of the ointments, gauze, and bandages you’d received from your stay at the hospital. You worked diligently as your hands worked on providing much needed aid to the various wounds scattered around your body. After dropping the roll of gauze too many times to count and contorting your body to reach wounds that were particularly tricky to reach, you felt yourself beam with contentment as you found you were nearly done. There was only one more wound to dress up. Unfortunately, it was on your back. Already knowing that you wouldn’t be able to reach it on your own, you swallowed your pride as you reached for the doorknob and slowly pulled it open.

Praying he was still within hearing range, you called out, “König?”

The silence that spread through the room was thick with unease as you waited for a response in the form of something, anything. Thankfully it came in the form of König’s boots creaking against the wooden flooring of the building before he eventually reached you, his head tilted to the side in a questioning manner.

“I need help changing my bandage,” You sucked in a sharp breath, “It’s on my back, I can’t reach it.”

He eyes you for a few moments longer before nodding and you take a step back as you allow him to push open the door of the bathroom. You face your body toward the mirror and watch in the reflection as his hands seem to twitch the moment he realized he’d have to pull your shirt up.

He swallows, “May I?”

You try to fend off the burning sensation that begins to build in your cheeks, “Please.”

You hear him take in a small, shaky breath before his fingers grab onto the thin fabric of your t-shirt before he lifts it up, just enough to reveal the old bandage currently covering your wound. You feel his fingers on the bare skin of your lower back as he reaches forward and begins to delicately peel off the gauze taped to your back. You try your best to not think about having his hands roam all over your body. It doesn’t work. You can feel your heart rate pick up as he reaches an arm around your waist to grab onto an antiseptic wipe.

You look down at his hand as he holds it out to you, “Can you open it?”

You nod as you raise your hand to take the packet from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s, “Sure.”

You make quick work of ripping the packet open with your hands before looking up into the mirror, your heart nearly coming to a full stop as you see him with his gaze already fixated on you.

You can’t stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, “Do you hate me?”

He reaches forward and grabs the packet from your fingers, his hand resting over yours for a moment longer than necessary before pulling it away from you completely. For a moment you fear he won’t reply, but his response comes in the form of five soft spoken words.

“I could never hate you.”

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men

Couldn’t put me together again

‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you

After two weeks, the team finally arrived back from their mission. It was a joyous occasion being able to see the faces of your little family again, but you had quickly come to notice that the room was short of one member.

König.

It didn’t come to you as a huge surprise. You figured that once the team came back he wouldn’t hesitate to start ignoring you again, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And as much as you wanted to ignore the situation entirely, you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. König, your once dear and soft-spoken friend, had turned into someone else entirely in the blink of an eye. The quiet, late night conversations you sought each other out for completely meaningless as he proudly voiced out the disgust he had for you. Your knowledge of all his likes and dislikes, the silly inside jokes you shared, as well as his deepest secrets now laid stagnant in your mind never to be utilized again. And for what? Because he couldn’t bear the thought of you anymore? Because he didn’t want to see you? It made you fall into a pit of anger and self-pity all at once and you needed answers. Maybe that’s why you’re standing outside his door at two am, fist balled up as you incessantly knock at his door.

You air out a small sigh of annoyance, “I can see the light from your lamp under the door. Open up.”

Ready to start rapping your knuckles against the wooden door once more, you begin to raise your fist but stop when you can hear some rustling on the other side of the door. You lower your fist to your side and wait with a stoic expression on your face before you can hear the click of the lock being undone. The door slowly opens and you’re soon met with the hooded figure of König. You don’t give him a chance to speak before your hands are firmly placed against his abdomen and you begin to push him back much to his bewilderment. Satisfied with his new placement in the room, you quickly lean back and lock the door before turning to face him with a heated glare with your arms crossed over your chest. Once his surprise has set aside he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch.

“What did I do wrong?”

He already knows what you’re referring to by those five simple words, but he can’t bring himself to talk about it. He refuses to. Ready to try and disarm you with carefully picked words, he takes a few steps toward you and reaches a timid hand out to you. Unfortunately for him, you swat it away.

“No, you don’t get to touch me. Not when you’ve treated me as badly as you have the past few weeks.”

He feels his heart sink to his stomach, but still decides to try and feign confusion.

“What do you–”

Your groan of frustration is enough to make him stop his sentence midway.

You heave in a sigh as you look up at him, “Don’t do that.”

He stares down at you in confusion.

“That thing you do. The one where you act like you don’t know what the other person’s talking about so you can save yourself from having an uncomfortable conversation. I know that’s what you’re doing and I need you to stop.”

He should’ve known he wouldn’t have been able to slip something as juvenile as that past you.

“Okay,” He concedes, “Okay.”

You release a sigh of relief at his willingness to cooperate, hopefully this would end better than you originally planned.

“Look, I know I disgust you, and that’s fine. I already know there’s–”

König steps forward, “You don’t disgust me.”

You halt all your movements as you look up at him, “What?”

“I said you don’t disgust me.”

You scoff, “What, so you just go around treating all your friends like shit then? Is that it?”

Even with the hood, it doesn’t take much to know that he’s frowning.

“I didn’t–”

You can feel yourself inching closer toward the edge as you point an accusing finger up at him, “Don’t say you didn’t mean it. Don’t you fucking dare.”

He feels the words die out in his throat as the sinking feeling in his stomach worsens.

You resign your hand to rest by your side as you speak, “You know, it’s one thing to feel awkward and leave a conversation because you don’t know what to say, but it’s a whole other thing to leave the conversation and then start treating that person like a pile of shit afterwards.”

He remains quiet so you take that as your cue to continue.

“I knew going into it that telling you how I felt might cause some problems, but I didn’t think you’d hate me for it. For god's sake, König, if you really didn’t feel the same you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to walk away and stop being my friend,” You let out a shaky breath, “Is it really so bad to be loved by me? Is the idea of it so disgusting that you can’t handle being around me anymore? Is that it? Because if it is, you should’ve let me know a long time ago rather than let me roam around following you like an idiot,” Your hands begin to shake as you avert your gaze away from him, “God I…I wish you just told me you didn’t love me back.”

As the last few words of your overdue rant fall from your lips, he takes a closer look at your face and he finds he almost regrets doing so. The quiver of your lip accompanied by the tears that threaten to spill over breaks his heart. He briefly wonders if this is what you felt like the entire time.

He gulps before taking a few hesitant steps toward your distraught figure. Once close enough, he reaches his arms out and gently places them on your shoulders for a few moments before slowly bringing you closer to his body and wrapping you up in a hug. Throwing all caution to the wind, you merely cling onto him and bury your face in his chest as the tears finally spill over. He holds you tenderly, his hands running up and down the curve of your back in an attempt to soothe you. You remain in his arms for more than a few minutes before eventually pulling back with his arms still wrapped tightly around you. You bring a careful hand up to his head, your fingers ghosting the edge of his hood.

“Your face…I need to see your face,” You all but plead.

Who is he to deny you of him any longer?

He gives you a small nod before bending down a bit allowing you to get a better grip on the black cloth. Slowly, you begin to peel it away from his face and the moment your eyes take him in for all that he is, you’re grateful that he’s holding onto as tight as he is. You don’t even realize as the fabric slips from your hands and falls to the floor, far too enamored by the freckles that dot his pale face and the wisps of hair that frame his face. You slowly reach up and rest a hand on his cheek as your eyes slowly roam across his face, taking in every detail of him.

“You’re gorgeous,” You whisper.

You feel honored to stand witness to the way his face grows hot under your hand as a prominent blush works its way onto his cheeks. He stares down at you, lips pulled into a small frown before he speaks in a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry, maus.”

You can’t help but ask, “Why’d you do it?”

He allows a hand to drop from your waist and move up to yours, his first and middle finger finding its place on your pulse.

“I can’t love you,” He pulls you closer to him, “Just to end up losing you. I don’t think I’d ever recover.”

Your hand slowly falls from his cheek in favor of trailing your fingers along his jaw, “You wouldn’t lose me.”

“I lose everyone eventually.”

Your fingers make their way to the outer line of his lips, “I’m scared of losing you too, König, but the idea of losing you knowing I never got the chance to love you scares me even more.”

His breath hitches, “You deserve better.”

You shake your head, “I deserve you. I want you.”

His body freezes, he can barely think.

You move your fingers away from his lips in favor of wrapping them up in his hair as you speak once more, “I want you to want me.”

He gulps, “I’ve always wanted you.”

“Then show me.”

Upon receiving your reassurance, he surges forward and connects his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.

I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

Who could stay?

Who could stay?

Who could stay?

You could stay

You could stay

taglist: @merakiaes @kaauyyq2

[fritoley]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts 6x06 - Moment of Truth

Previous Episode // Masterlist // Next Episode

Join the Taglist

Spoilers under the cut

Woah why did everything go monotone except for Kosmo

“This orb…is a giant piece of candy.”

W H A T

HOW

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

HOW THE FUCK DID THEY NOT NOTICE THAT WERE HOLDING A BIG-ASS JAWBREAKER (i know it’s chocolate but you get the idea---)

How tf is a piece of candy glowing in the first place—

You’ve GOT to be kidding me tho

Oh it’s color again—

“I loved your mother, Lissa, very much.”

LISSA REVEAL

I KNEW WE WERE GONNA SEE HER

OOH SHE THICC—

SHE’S BEAUTIFUL OMG

“I suppose I should call it what it is, dark magic.”

Harrow said the same thing in s1 just kill me now—

“Who am I to refuse an invitation from the high mage of Katolis?”

Wait were Kpp’Ar’s bandages ever explained? Why are they so bloody?

SOREN’S LITTLE STUFFY ON VIREN’S DESK AAAHHH

Omg he’s so emotional 😭

“Yes. Yes I see now.”

IS KOSMO REWINDING TIME—

Oooooooh wait no the monotone is him seeing the futureeeeeee

That’s so cool you go kosmo

“Prince Harrow. May I join you?”

AAAAAHHHHH harrow’s little scoot is adorable LMAOOO

Aww he’s so considerate towards  sarai and callum gahhh—

I need them back now how dare they die on me 😭

“Beware, if you ever use dark magic again, the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you.”

I guarantee you he’s gonna use dark magic again watch

Mark my words

“Without magic, how will you stop me?”

I wanna know more about kpp’ar and why he quit dark magic

I bet it has something to do with his bandages

OH SHIT VIREN THROTTLED HIM

“[Kpp’Ar] invested years of his life helping me become… what i became.”

Ooh so viren got his true appearance from the coin spell i thought he was gonna get it from the spell he uses to save soren

“I only see… darkness.”

Omg he’s gonna get to space

GAHH HE’S FALLINGGG—

“Something so simple and… and easy, her tears.”

Omg you can see viren just scribbling the words down as fast as he can just reliving the moment it’s so sad

I feel so bad for him

“I pushed her against the wall and I held the back of her hair to keep her still.”

OH MY GOSH VIREN WHAT—

STOPPPPP I’M GONNA CRY

What is this serious DRAMA omg—

Where the fuck is claudia in all this that’s what i wanna know

Like soren would be sick in bed but considering lissa was full on sobbing you’d think claudia would hear it and go see what’s going on

NO THE WAY CALLUM SMILED AND REACHED OUT TO THE SKY AS HE WAS FALLING

YAY HE’S FLYING

I S T H A T R A Y L A OMG

SLAYYYYY

Ok wait can y’all get away from the edge i can’t trust y’all not to fall and die not at this point

“But the cost was… devastating.”

VIREN STOP CRYING OMG

GREAT NOW I’M CRYING UGH

NOOOO CLAUDIA RUNNING AFTER LISSA

LISSA’S STILL CRYING TOO

The way soren’s looking at viren in confusion MY HEART 😭

“And i punished you with a lifetime of cold cruelty.”

I’M SO DONE

I’M DONE

THIS F U C K I N G SHOW

SOORREEENNNNNNN MY BABY I CAN’T TAKE IT

THE WAY YOU CAN TELL VIREN’S CRYING IN HIS NARRATIONS GAWD—

“No, I… No. The guard was… mistaken.”

NO

GIVE IT TO HIM ISTFG

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO PUT ME THROUGH ALL THAT AND NOT GIVE IT TO HIM

SOREN SEES IT TOO JUST G I V E I T —

N O O O O O O O O O O 

WHY’D YOU DO THAT

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK—

Okay so i let it simmer overnight and i have a FUCKING LOT to say about this. First of all, how D A R E they make me invested in viren’s letter to soren (INCLUDING A LISSA REVEAL DAMN THAT WOMAN IS BEAUTIFUL—) only for viren to BURN IT UP?!?!!?? Lemme tell you, if i read that letter and saw the teardrop stains and shit on it i would’ve immediately forgiven him idfc free him he did all of it but i don’t care that’s my toxic trait. And for soren to S E E the letter and viren S T I L L chickens out—

*incoherent screaming*

Anyways as you can tell i loved this episode and it’s prolly one of my favorites so far. And YES i saw rayllum kiss F I N A L L Y so yeah here you go

[angelofthenight]

hey listen yk how Yan polite reader *USE* to be together with reader right! right what if reader started dating another person

(new follower also I only have crumbs of this guy

Purge Leader x Reader: Yan!Headcanons Pt.2

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Paranoia, Stalking/Spying, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Emotional cruelty, Murder/Gore, Non-Con, Kidnapping, The Purge being its own warning

Word Count: 1.9k

( BRO SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE YEARS???😭😭 )

Part 1

Requested: @narcozmx-blog @iskamr

~

♡ You genuinely didn’t expect to fall in love again after everything you’ve been through

♡ You thought your emotions were far too distracted and invested in fear to ever feel feelings like that ever again, especially since last time you indulged in attraction it cost lives

♡ But then someone just came around at the right place and right time while you were at your lowest and told you all the things you wanted to hear

♡ They were so selflessly honest. You didn’t have to read in between the lines, there was no guessing game about what they really meant, and no mind games. All things you had to suffer through in your past relationship with him

♡ You didn’t want to put their life in danger just because of your selfishness. You even warned them off your predicament with the purge after their pursuing flirting never seemed to falter

♡ They didn’t care. In fact, they said they would dedicate their life to protecting you if you’d have them and let them be yours and let yourself be theirs

♡ So for multiple months, you felt true happiness again and peaceful bliss. They made you feel safe and secure and you never looked over your shoulder when you were in their presence. In fact, sometimes it felt like your life was normal and nothing bad ever happened to you. As if you didn’t spend every night thrashing and whimpering in your sleep. You forgot how cruel the world really was when staring into their eyes, angel orbs staring right back at you

♡ They told you that you both would save up money to move to a country where the purge doesn’t occur at all. Any country you wanted

♡ That proposal made you so happy, beaming over the edge with joy and sentimental tears

♡ But as Purge Day grew closer and closer, a deep pit slowly began to rot in your stomach, pinching your insides every once in awhile. And when the date was just a month away it grew clear to you and your lover that you did not have enough money to run away just yet. Enough for the plane and a hotel for a couple days. But not enough to make a safe start in a brand new country

♡ You had to stay in America for Purge night. You had to survive one last purge

♡ Your lover had never seen you as such a mess of a person before as you became obsessed with the countdown to the dreadful night. You had so many panic attacks, mental breakdowns, hyperventilating meltdowns, and sobbing sessions

♡ They had told you of many sanctuaries you could hide, wealthy families who were generous enough to offer safety in their homes, bomb shelters, places no one would think to hide in

♡ They didn’t understand that you’ve hidden in those places before. And he found you every single time. No matter what building you hide in, no matter what state you ran to, he would find you

♡ They reminded you that all you had to do was survive for only twelve hours

♡ Why didn’t they understand how much can happen in twelve hours? How much mental pain and irreversible trauma you’ve been forced to endure every single purge

♡ They tried to comfort you by mentioning that you’ve survived every purge so far and you are still a free individual

♡ They didn’t understand that it’s not about you surviving, it’s about whoever is standing in his way surviving. You wanted to break up right there and then to spare their life, but they refused to leave your side

♡ All you had to do was make it through one purge night then you can run away across the ocean

~

♡ You whore. You bitch. What the hell did you think you were doing?

♡ You really thought you could be with some other person and he wouldn’t know?

♡ You had to know he was watching you. You were just trying to piss him off. You’re like a child rebelling. That had to be the answer. Why else would you lower your standards, and yourself, to the level of dating some lowlife nobody

♡ You were his. His only and his forever

♡ Outside of the Purge, he was always watching you. Watching you go about your everyday life. Stalking you. Spying on you. Following you

♡ He used to approach you many times, just to mess with you and mentally antagonize you, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it other than running away. As if that did anything. Even some of his purge friends, ones you’ve grown familiar with on Purge night through the years, would wave ‘hi’ to you in public. He knew it drove you mad, and he loved that

♡ He loved how sensitive and reactive his toy was. He loved his fragile little plaything

♡ But when he sees you with some walking piece of shit, his anger boils underneath his skin so hot he wants to claw his own skin off

♡ He was most furious at the observations of little quirks you also did when you were officially his

♡ Like rubbing your fingers over their knuckles, always pulling them by their neck to get closer during make outs, needing to take a bite out of their food first before digging into yours claiming it was to make sure theirs wasn’t poisoned, softly bumping your nose against theirs before you kissed them

♡ You did all of that stuff with him. And now you were repeating all your little quirks for them

♡ They didn’t deserve you. No one on the face of the planet, both dead and alive, did. He was the only one for you

♡ He was going to make you realize that. No matter what. And he didn’t care how many lives he had to brutally slaughter or casually destroy to do it

♡ But just like with your old best friends and everyone else who stood in his way, he had to wait till Purge night to butcher that scum

♡ He daydreamed about how he would do it. He loved when he axed your friends but he thought this specific person deserved a special death. He fantasized about killing them in front of you, imagining all the different ways he could do it. All those thoughts made him smile to himself

♡ He fantasized chopping off their limbs one by one so they would die slowly, drilling out their eyes, slamming a chainsaw right down their head, stabbing every inch of their skin so their corpse would be unrecognizable, gutting them open in front of you. All of this as you would cry rivers from your eyes, begging him to stop

♡ And once the execution was carried out, he would immediately go down on you right on that floor, right next to their body

~

♡ He was coming for you. Him and all of his friends

♡ Even from the far corner in the small kiln room of the abandoned middle school your lover had found, you still heard the distant, almost muffled, sounds of their laughter

♡ How did they find you? How did he find you?

♡ Your courageous lover held their gun tightly in their hands, having it concentratedly aimed at the locked and barricaded door. You hugged their arm as your eyes never once left the door, your heart pounding so loud and heavy you feared it would give away your location

♡ What two hours felt like two minutes, they were closer than ever. You heard them roam the art room just outside your door as they giggled to each other, none of them bothered being quiet

♡ Suddenly they were slamming a battering ram against the door, two swings broke the lock and four more swings tumbled your barricade down. You fearfully and shakingly whispered your lovers name repeatedly in their ear, needing to know they were getting ready to shoot even though they’ve never killed anyone before

♡ The barricade had fallen and the door opened without anything else in the way. Your lover fired five bullets as soon as they saw someone in the doorframe. You witnessed the first two people in line fall backwards. When more people stepped in, your lover’s shooting never stopped

♡ Your heart coldly stopped at the haunting sound of the clicking of the gun. It was empty

♡ Your fate had been sealed into doom

♡ Your lips quivered uncontrollably as your masked ex boyfriend suavely stepped into the room, carelessly stepping over his fallen friends. He slid off his mask to reveal his malicious smile and cocky gaze. “Smart of me to let them go first.” He said with a humored snicker. It made you nauseated

♡ “Thank you for keeping them warm for me, but I’ll take it from here.” He said as he positioned his axe in both hands, his cheshire cat smile widening down at the two of you. The very same axe he used on your highschool best friends, the very same axe that started it all. How fitting it would be the one to end it

♡ It all happened so fast, your lover bolting up to try to wrestle the axe of his hands, and then you heard a sickening sound of a swing and a slush

♡ You were paralyzed from your spot on the ground, your mouth only parted but shaking as if you’ve been splashed with freezing water. Your eyes wide open as if you had no eyelids, your waterlines overflowing like pitchers, never ceasing the ongoing streams of tears down your cheeks. Your fingers were clutching onto the hair closest to your scalp

♡ You were frozen in absolute terror and traumatizing grief. Watching him hack the one you were going to run away with apart from their stomach, crimson blood and entrails spilling out like cutting open an egg sack

♡ He chopped away until their torso was mutilated and their body was now in two. He took heaving breaths as he ran a hand through his hair to smooth out the locks that fell in his face

♡ He turned to you with that Cheshire grin and eyes that were the embodiment of a danger sign, fresh beads of blood vaguely dripping down his long face. His expensive clothes were stained with splatters of blood. Their blood

“Happy Purge, my dear.”

♡ And then he intended to do exactly what he had been fantasizing about for the past months. To fuck you right on that ground, right next to your bloodily mangled ex lover

♡ And that’s exactly what he did. Unbuckling his pants as he stalked toward you with strides and a taunting smile. You whimpered with terribly shaky sobs as you tried to scramble away backwards while still on the ground

♡ He grabbed your ankle and tugged you closer to him, lunging down at you to forcibly pry open your thighs and force his arousal into you

♡ After the deed was done and he buckled his pants back up, he hurdled your torso up to make your red puffy, exhausted eyes look into his excitedly dilated ones

“Our games have been much fun, but I think it’s now time for you to come home.”

[no-light-left-on]

So the Death of the Outsider lacks a chaos system and it makes perfect sense

(I recommend reading my other post on how chaos works in the DH universe first but it is not mandatory.)

The point of the chaos system is, at its core, a reflection of how a world already at its tipping point reacts to the player's actions: Dunwall ridden by the plague and oppressed by the Lord Regent’s rule, Karnaca bloodfly-bitten and slowly torn to shreds by the Duke with people scared after the recent coup.

Billie, however, simply exists as a person once the world has been tipped towards the better, Emily having reclaimed her throne and Karnaca slowly but surely steering towards better times. Her quest is not motivated by politics or by a falling empire. It is entirely personal to her, Daud, and the Outsider.

Billie is an ex-assassin. She puts the world on a tipping point, but she does not decide whether the world rights itself or comes crashing over the edge. She takes jobs from the black market, sometimes killing people for money, because that is all it is to her - a job. And while she may kill innocent people while at it, there is no more terror it can bring atop the cruel rule of the Duke and people dying in the mines. In the end, she will disappear into the shadows. It is just another mugging, another unfortunate murder of a father coming home in the evening. Nothing more, nothing less. No responsibility to take over it after.

She is dedicated to her quest, and that quest is not even hers - it is Daud's, and she is just going along with it out of maybe guilt, maybe old times' sake. She is not even that interested in killing the Outsider herself, has very little stakes in it, and decides to go through with it because it's what Daud wanted. There is no world that can react to her because she is the world that is reacting, in a sense, to Daud's wishes and the Outsider's subtle interventions.

Compared to, say, DH2 which takes place months before the events of DotO, Billie has very little to lose, no place to reclaim, no world to save. The results of her actions, no matter what they might be, won't change how the world is at the end of the game. Emily can choose whether a brilliant doctor lives so she can save lives, she decides whether the Howlers or the Overseers take over Batista, dictates who rules and with how much power, with what level of cruelty. Billie is killing a god, no matter what it takes, and there is little need for consideration of how this result is achieved.

The game does not even have targets, save for one, the Outsider himself. All the missions are about gathering intel and preparing for the job. The structure of the whole game is very different to serve the purpose of the plot and honestly it's a clever choice so that the focus remains on the one thing only - killing the Outsider.

One thing I did not mention in relation to chaos in my other post is that the chaos also influences the Outsider and his speeches at the shrines. Which, fair enough, it is just one more change in dialogue among many. But in the case of DotO, he is directly involved. He is not an observer anymore. He has real reason to be emotionally invested in what is happening and what Billie is doing. He needs to bait her into murder, or change her mind to spare him and free him from his eternal imprisonment. There can't be a change from interest to cynicism as Billie kills more people to get to him, because in the end, he is the target. He wants out of the Void by any means necessary, which means he has to be fully invested at all times. He has no reason to suddenly go soft and make subtle comments. He comes across as so much more malicious in this game, maiming Billie and being so incredibly cruel when he tells her that Daud has passed while she was away. All this because he can't risk her changing her mind, thinking to herself, “Hey, maybe he sucks but he’s not That Bad” and then turning on her heel to leave. He is trying to influence Billie instead, which he didn’t do with his Marked (unless you count his mentions of multiple possible outcomes as influencing, or him telling Daud about Delilah).

So no, the world won't change for you, the player. It won't change because you chose not to kill anyone, not even the contract targets, because if you don't do the dirty work, someone else will. And the Outsider cannot change either, because Billie is not changing the fate of an empire. She is changing the fate of Him, personally, and he cannot afford to let her choose the only bad choice - indifference. So there is no point in a chaos at all.

No matter what Billie does in the end, the outcome will be the same - the Void will change. sShe will change the universe as they know it, but no matter how she goes about it, the change will come. She is not faced with a question of what she wants the world to be. She was guided there by others, expected to do one thing - kill a god. The world has set her up, and now she has to react.

And so she comes to the Void and is met with the only choice that will matter: Is she going to show mercy, or remain the same?

[fvckw4d]

The thing about fallout new vegas is that the NCR needs Mr. House's New Vegas and Caesar's Legion and the Feinds and the other gangs. They're all enemies, but they need those enemies. They need them to trade with, to shoot, they need them to maintain support and control. The NCR can't function without a boogeyman, because the NCR is unstable. The Legion and New Vegas are in many ways the natural conclusion of the NCR. Worshipping military might and money are where the NCR is already headed, and have in many ways already arrived. The NCR already has slaves and conquers its neighbors, it already rewards the rich and exploits the poor. For these very reasons they can't maintain relationships with the Followers of the Apocalypse, despite the willingness of the Followers to offer them free infrastructure they have no intention of investing in. Often, the resentment against other factions seems to be, on some level, that their exploitation and cruelty is more efficient. More organized. Less impeded by and hidden under ideals about democracy and freedom.

[titan-desuu]

SHOWER TIME:

The AoT characters and their bath and skincare routine 🫧

Eren: He wouldn't admit it but he uses 3in1 products but keeps telling others that he doesn't. He brushes his teeth in the shower. Eren is always in a hurry, so he might not use skincare as often as he'd like.

Mikasa: Mikasa loves to take quick shower but her products - Lord heavens! She knows how to take care of her body. She mainly uses products to be more in touch with her origins.

Armin: Armin knows his products! He cares about cruelty-free and environmentally friendly products. He takes his time with his bath. After his shower, he takes the time to moisturise with Vanilia Coconut Body Lotion. His skincare routine always includes moisturiser and sunscreen, depending on the time of day.

Jean: Oh Jean might be not very familiar with products, he would buy overpriced products and wondering why they don't work or give him a rash. He invests nowadays more time in his routines since the girls keep saying how attractive guys can be if they do skin care! (He clips his toenails in the shower)

Connie: Connie would do his skincare before going to shower. Sometimes he doesn't do skin care but somehow his skin is flawless - Connie tell us your secret! He loves to use a loafer to scratch his back better.

Sasha: Sasha loves bathing more than showering because she can eat snacks and wash her hair. Her products wouldn't have a particular smell: as long as they keep her body moisturised, it's all good! But after the shower, she loves to do her hair while she to dances in the bathroom.

Levi: Our lovely Captain is known for being a clean freak! His work is always meticulous - even when he takes a shower! He takes his time to clean every inch of his body. He is a big fan of using soaps instead of liquid shampoo. Did you know that he even massages his scalp to relax after a hard day's work as a captain? Somehow his bathroom smells like lavender.

Erwin: He works while taking a bath. I mean it. He is always looking at his documents, planning the next expedition or approving Hange's experiments. Nobody really respects his privacy as he's the commander and has to be alert all the time…poor Erwin.

Hange: ah Hange may not shower often, but when they do - oh oh. They don't really care what products they use - don't wonder why they have dish soap in their bathroom… Hange love to mix their products to create new ones. They have special plants to mix in their bathroom - but I don't know how they get the rose petals and aloe vera to smell so bad… Their face is sometimes very dry, but they refuse to moisturise their face - "our bodies produce oil!" - Yes of course Hange…

Moblit: Moblit is very romantic when it comes to showering: classical music, a good-smelling bathroom and quiet music in the background. He knows that good natural products smell good. As he likes to spend more time in the shower, Hange always interrupts him, so his shower lasts max. 10 minutes.

Mike: I don't know how this man knows which product to use but he knows them damn well!. He knows the best oils for his hair and his beard. Sometimes he uses Hanges rose petals to keep the mood up.

Ymir: Ymir loves a quick shower! Thanks to Historia for using her products. Even though Historia tells her not to brush her wet hair, she still does.

Historia: Let's be honest: Historia is the reason why the girls use skincare! She always recommends the best products individually. (She is better than skincare TikTok). She loves the 7 steps of skin care. She knows how to clean herself and smell good! She is the IT girl!

Reiner: Reiner is always asking Historia about good smelling products and what would suit him. He takes a shower twice a day because he can get so sweaty sometimes.

Bertholdt: Bertholdt loves to play in the bath. He has probably over 50 rubber ducks and hides them after showering (his favourite is the pirate one). He uses perfume in the hope of getting compliments from Reiner (and Annie).

Annie: Bath time is perhaps the only time when no one disturbs Annie. She always locks her bathroom and listens to music on her headphones. She uses Hitch's products all the time.

[opencommunion]

"The resistances to slavery were the principal grounds for the radically alternative political culture that coalesced in the Black communities of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the era of revolutionary, liberal, and nationalist impulses among Europeans in North America. Among Blacks, the rule of law was respected for its power rather than for any resemblance to justice or a moral order. For the slaves, the rule of law was an injustice, a mercurial and violent companion to their humiliations, a form of physical abuse, a force for the destruction of their families, and an omnipresent cruelty to their loved ones. Even for free Blacks, the rule of law was too often a cruel hypocrisy, impotent in protecting their tenuous status. For both the slaves and the free Blacks, even as revolutionary fervor increased among the colonists, the masquerades of the law were becoming more transparent: the domestic slave trade displaced the African slave trade in the late eighteenth century. With this new economy of slavery, the separation of slave families by sale and the kidnapping and enslavement of free Blacks increased astronomically.

To the very contrary, the rebellious colonial ruling class sought to invest the rule of law with a moral authority sufficient to justify their rejection of British authority. As slave traders and merchants, as slaveholders and propagandists, as lawyers, ministers, and civil authorities for slavery, the most influential men and women among the emergent American community used the rule of law as the warrant for the justness of their claims and practices. By their law they hunted, traded, bought, and sold other human beings; waged war against, whipped, dismembered, burned, hanged, and tortured their property for possessing a human will; treated their colonist servants and laboring classes with the customary disdain of the English gentle classes. Now this same law was to serve their revolutionary ambitions, their right to liberty.

On this score, the Blacks, particularly the slaves, possessed conflicting opinions. The 5,000 Blacks who fought for American independence fought for liberty, and had a very different vision of national freedom than the one imagined by their countrymen. But as we shall see, many thousands of Blacks would fight against independence, not for love of imperial Britain but because they understood that Black freedom was otherwise unobtainable. Like the Native American nations that sided with the British, the Black Loyalists sought to employ the British army to serve their own interests, for their own ends. Long after the defeated British had departed, their allies, the Native Americans and the Blacks, continued the struggle for liberty. For generations to come, Native Americans recognized America as a colonial power, and Blacks read the new nation as tyrannical. Their suspicion of and opposition toward American society survived in the political cultures of Blacks and Native Americans for the next two hundred years."

Cedric Robinson, Black Movements in America (1997)

[blackjackkent]

OK, resuming Rakha's circus adventures!

So far the circus has been a very mixed bag of an experience for her. She had one of the nicest experiences in recent memory in interacting with one of the show's bards, and made a bit of a new friend in Popper, but she also had a deeply intimate and vulnerable moment with Wyll get interrupted by Orin, who it turns out is a shapeshifter and could be watching them out of the eyes of literally anyone around them.

So her mood is, to put it mildly, unstable at present. Nevertheless - she has gotten deeply fixated on the idea of letting Wyll get to see his favorite clown Dribbles, and she is NOT LETTING ANYTHING MESS THAT UP.

Wyll, who is also very unsettled by the experience with Orin in the guise of the dryad, would frankly be all right with moving on without the clown show at this point. But he is quietly touched by how invested Rakha is in giving him this experience.

On the way to the pavilion where the clown is performing, they stop to look at the animals kept in cages waiting for their part in the show.

Rakha has generally good associations with animals after her time with Scratch and Buddy has proved to be generally therapeutic, so she looks with great interest at the displacer beast inside the larger cage.

(A/N: I forgot we still had the speak with animals potion up from talking to the Strange Ox. Normally I'm holding off on speaking with animals to save it as new content for my stream playthrough, but it's mildly interesting here for Rakha so we'll stick with it.)

The creature resembles, to a degree, Jaheira's black panther form - but it most certainly is not. The undulating tentacles on its back make a significant difference, as does the very different air of magic that surrounds it. There is something strained and stretched about the Weave along its skin, a drawn bowstring ready to fire. It is capable, Rakha realizes, of teleportation, although something about the cage holds it in place, preventing the magic from snapping free.

It meets her eyes and draws its lips back, revealing long razor-sharp fangs not unlike Rakha's own tusks. "Another..." it whispers. "Good..."

Rakha blinks curiously. "Why good?" she asks.

"My time comes," hisses the animal. Its voice is female, contralto, a low growl full of barely-restrained rage. "I will show you. All of you."

Rakha's eyebrows furrow tightly together as her eyes narrow. [PERSUASION] "Show me what?"(*) she demands.

The cat's nostrils flare angrily. "Look," it snaps. "See. The crowd - they laugh. They shine with innocence. But it is a lie. Everyone of you is vicious! Cruel! You kill my mate. Steal my cubs! I roar. Break my cage. And then you die. You all die!"

Rakha's skin prickles. The beast in her head squirms eagerly at these words. Yes. Kill them all. Let the blood of them run red through this place, hear the screams as their joy turns to ash...

When the beast is excited, it is usually a sign of something that is very wrong. And yet she can understand this creature's rage, if what it says is true. Its mate, its cubs... Rakha has enacted revenge for less...

Should she let it free? Perhaps this would be a killing with purpose, in spite of the way her own darkness rises to think of it...

No. Perhaps there are those who should be punished for what has been done to the cat... but these around her are innocents. No purpose in their death, just cruelty and blood. Wyll would say it was wrong.

[INVESTIGATION] Examine the cage.

Narrator: While the cage is sturdy, the lock is old. It could be jammed shut, so not even a key could open it.

Break the lock, ensuring the cage can't be opened.

With a short, sharp motion, she stabs a lockpick from her pack into the lock, feels the crunching click of its internal workings breaking.

At once, the displacer beast rears up and roars with renewed fury. "NOOOO!" it screams. "COWARD!"

Inside Rakha's head, the beast echoes with its own screams, its bloodlust frustrated, denied. She turns away, her fists clenched at her sides, trembling with the effort the moment took, unknown to any around her.

-----

If she hopes for something more calming at the other cage, she's disappointed.

"THE HUNGER. My stomach SCREAMS! Press your FLESH through BARS! A hand. A HEAD! BLOOD. MEAT!"

She has never seen a creature quite like this before. It has no fur like Scratch or feathers like Buddy, but leathery, knobbled skin. Its eyes, pale violet, are strained in its skull, bugging out with agitation.

And its words of hunger sound like the internal monologue of her own darkness, brought out into the world. For a moment, a stab of pain goes through her head and she staggers.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood...

"It is starving," Jaheira mutters behind her. "The gums pale. The flesh tight upon the bones. This circus treats it with cruelty."

The calm appraisal breaks through Rakha's agitation just slightly; her head clears enough to think. Starving. Yes. She has meat in her pack. The creature need not be fed in blood.

She fumbles for a scrap of jerky in the pack at her hip, rips it free. "Here," she mutters unsteadily. "I have... something else you can eat..."

As the meat hits the floor of the cage, the lizard falls upon it with eager desperation. Ripping, tearing, consuming... calming. The strained muscles ease and the fury settles out of its eyes. And Rakha feels herself calm in answer, relaxing, relieved to see the change.

Minthara snorts. "Perhaps this is the secret to your bad days as well?" she suggests. "A cage and a fistful of meat."

Rakha grunts noncommittally. There seems little point in arguing that she is no animal like these creatures. When the beast takes over, there is very little distinction, and Minthara knows this perfectly well. "Perhaps," she says with a shrug.

-----

(*) Shortened the line here to fit Rakha's speech better. "Show me what? Come on - your secret is safe with me."

[absolutely-esme]

Strawhat Pirates Reincarnated as Batfam

My brain won't drop the idea, so here you go.

Dick is Franky

He's still extra and still refuses to wear pants. This version of Dick may carry the leotard design over into Nightwing.

Jason is Sanji

He can cook, and making sure people can eat will always be important to him. He's gruff and growls with people even if he likes them. The real reason he never uses the all blades after returning to Gotham is because he can't risk letting Zoro know he missed him. He went through character growth and respects women in this life.

Tim is Usopp

He has anxiety, but never let that stop him. He chose the life of adventure rather than getting picked up by it. He is an excellent storyteller and actor, as shown by his numerous separate secret identities, many of which have fleshed out backstories. His general attitude of "I don't have to beat you in a fight. I just have to accomplish my goal."

Cass is Robin

David Cain failed. She is fluent and literate in multiple languages and still fully capable of kicking his ass and giving him the slip.

Steph is Nami

The attitude feels similar. She doesn't have the same issues about money in this life because she's finally moved on from at least part of that trauma. She still doesn't like power imbalances. Her acute awareness of her surroundings is part of what allowed her to manage as Spoiler before she had support.

Damian is Zoro

He uses swords. He's gruff. His respect is most quickly earned through combat prowess. That said, he still has his own code of honor. He still uses three sword style. Talia arrives at Wayne Manor hoping that Bruce can get him to stop carrying a third sword in his mouth. This Damian has beef with Jason rather than Tim (because Jason is Sanji).

Jaro is Chopper

Retains a sense of innocent wonder despite exposure to the cruelties of life. Wants to be loved. This version of Jaro is probably less invested in being Robin, and more wants to be on scene to provide emergency medical treatment. Might resort to mind control to make stubborn idiots stay in bed when they're hurt (but only when he really has to).

Bruce is Luffy

Growing up, he was frequently startled by how fast and efficient his new brain is. That said, he can still be kind of dense sometimes. Especially about communication. The reason he took until adulthood to start fighting was because it took him that long to figure out what works in this life. The Grapple guns were inspired by how fed up he was with not being able to use Gom Gom Rocket. Half the reason he's so grouchy is that he has to think so much in this lifetime. He doesn't like doing it. He can't stop. It's not fair. He used to be so good at Nakama, and now he keeps overthinking things.

I'm not sure who Brook would be, feel free to offer suggestions.

[max1461]

please publish my callout post so people know—

To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

(unclear is this a totalculturalvictory moment or just playing to the audience available on the anglonet)

WHow ok that sounds pretty bad maybe we shoudl cancel him actually... we should go 1776 on him etc...