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kittymeowmrow · 13 days ago

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𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Mk1 x Targ!reader

A/N:

Dear gentle readers,

I pray thee forgive my long silence, for a month hath passed since I last shared my humble words. Life’s cares did hinder my pen, though my thoughts oft turned to thee. Now, by God’s grace, I return with renewed spirit and fresh ink. I humbly ask thy pardon and hope the stories to come shall be worthy of thy patience.

Thine in earnest,

Author

@kchavez666 💋

Chapter 3 — a typical day?

Time had passed so quickly; a month had already gone by. While others showed significant improvement, you progressed at your own pace, which you didn’t mind as long as you kept improving. You demonstrated great potential in archery.

Apart from the intensive training and the constant challenges you endured, the Wu Shi Academy brought a certain tranquility to your mind. The recurring dream that had haunted you throughout your life was replaced with a forgotten memory. While the memory brought a sense of nostalgia and sadness, it was much preferable to the nightmarish dream of your mad father's death.

Viserys called out to you, “Sister,” capturing your attention. You were no more than five at the time, while he was already a young man, around the age of fifteen years old and strong in both mind and body. You recalled him as being built and skilled in swordsmanship, with a fondness for storytelling. He was particularly captivated by the tales of the conquerors and their dragons, he also shared with you bitterly that these creatures had vanished more than a century ago. The dream depicted your room in Dragonstone, wooden toys that mimicked horses and dragons scattered across the floor. "Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros," Viserys began, gesturing towards the brown leather-bound book adorned with the three-headed dragon sigil. "but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. It was not Aegon alone who united the Seven Kingdoms. He had the support of his sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys." He continued turning the pages of the book as he spoke of the conquerors and their conquests. Then, Viserys turned to you “Sister, in hard times like these, you and I bear the hope for the future.”

The dream ended there.

It was the dead of the night when you woke up. You wiped away the tears on your damp cheeks with the sleeves of your nightgown, thinking about your brother. Time had erased his face and voice from your memory, but somehow, seeing his face and hearing his voice again made you miss him terribly, and you couldn’t help but wonder – Was he alive? Where was he? You were also taken aback to realize that you remembered this distant memory so vividly.

“Viserys…” you murmured, as if testing his name on your lips. When was the last time you called out to him? You recalled his promise to bring you home once the nightmare has ended. But when was that?

And for the first time in forever, you wanted to call out to your brother, embrace him, and feel the safety of his arms again. You couldn’t help but to shed more tears.

Knowing that sleep was far from you for the time being, you decided that a cup of tea might help soothe your nerves and mind. Quietly, you made your way through the temple house to the shared kitchen, hoping to find some solace in the warm, comforting brew of fresh tea.

The kitchen was softly illuminated by a single candle, and in the quiet space, Kenshi Takahashi sat alone at the table, lost in his thoughts. His face was etched with a deep frown. You couldn't help but tease him gently to not startle him, "If you continue frowning like that, you'll end up with permanent wrinkles." Kenshi looked up at you, surprised, and raised an eyebrow. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked, his usual patience and temper uncharacteristically strained.

"I couldn't sleep," you explained, "and I thought a cup of tea might help calm my mind. Would you like to join me?" Kenshi's frown softened, and he nodded, his initial crankiness fading. "Sure, I guess I could," he responded with less irritation than before. You smiled as you walked over to the stove, preparing the tea.

The process of making tea was quiet. Surprisingly, the silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it was slightly awkward. Kenshi discreetly watched you from behind as you swiftly prepared fresh tea for both yourself and him. He pondered silently to himself, wondering when was the last time he had experienced such kind companionship and comfort from another person.

You carefully placed the porcelain cups and teapot on a tray and carried it to the table, gracefully serving tea to Kenshi before taking your seat across from him. He mumbled a soft "thank you" as you sat down.

"How is it?" you asked curiously, watching for his reaction as he took a sip. Kenshi raised both eyebrows briefly before looking up at you. "It's good," he replied, his gaze returning on the cup. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph, mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for making a good cup of tea.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you as you sipped your tea together. Wanting to break the quiet and ensure you weren't overstepping any boundaries, you asked gently, "Is it alright if I ask why you aren't asleep?" Kenshi looked at you for a brief moment before replying, "I had a dream that I was still in the yakuza." The grimace on his face betrayed the pain that the dream had caused him.

You send him an apologetic look, “Don’t worry, I know that too well.” You pause, “Not being in the yakuza! I meant the dream part,” You fumbled, fixing your wording quickly and think your words carefully to not put the man before you in further bad mood. “Dreams can be cruel.” you acknowledged, your own experience with nightmares reflected in your understanding expression.

A hint of amusement flickered across Kenshi's face at your slip-up before it was replaced with neutral look. "I'm guessing you had a bad dream too?" he inquired. You nodded in affirmation, responding, "It wasn't bad, just... sad. It was better than the usual dream I have, I guess." He simply hummed in acknowledgment, not prodding further on the matter.

The silence settled between the two of you once more. You observed his reaction, noticing how he idly swirled the tea in his cup with a distant look in his eyes. Out of the blue, he confessed dryly, "I hate the gods for making me as they did."

You paused, surprised by his unexpected words, and replied sincerely, "I do not. You are an honorable man with a good heart." A soft smile graced your lips as you added, "And that's a rare thing." Kenshi looked up at you and offered a small smile. It was not noticeable but you could tell it was there.

And what you said was true. Kenshi Takahashi was an honorable man. He was poised, sharp tongued yet respectful. You hoped he had taken your words sincerely.

That night, you both found solace in each other’s presence, even though no more words were exchanged.

—

You didn’t regret staying up so late with Kenshi; it had brought the two of you closer than you expected. However, you dreaded the consequences of getting so little sleep. You looked like you’d fought a raccoon in your sleep, with your hair slightly disheveled from not having the energy to properly braid it. Kenshi, on the other hand, didn’t seem nearly as fatigued. He still looked composed and proper. When he saw you, he chuckled at your appearance and offered to make you an omelette for breakfast. You gratefully accepted, though both of you received raised eyebrows from the other three.

The day progressed like any other at the Wu Shi Academy—rigorous training and your archery lessons. But today was ‘sparring day’, and your opponent was none other than the so-called “best” Hollywood star, Johnny Cage. To your frustration, his flashy, unorthodox fighting style was new to you. He even utilized his sunglasses into the fight—impressive, considering they didn’t break.

To your further dismay, you ended up pinned beneath him. Johnny smirked, enjoying the moment. “Giving up already?” he teased. You huffed in response, an idea sparking in your mind. A playful smile touched your lips as you looked up at him. “Not yet,” you said in a teasing tone.

“Are you sure about that?” Johnny taunted, clearly relishing your determination. He noticed your subtle attempt to distract him, his smirk widening. He was enjoying the way you tried to match his confidence, but unfortunately for him, it worked. He was too focused on how matched his ‘freak’, and his grip loosened just enough. Seeing your chance, you swiftly flipped him over, reversing the position.

“Yield?” you asked with a grin, pulling a hairpin from your bun and letting your silver hair cascade down as you pointed the pin at his neck.

To his surprise, you had him pinned. He chuckled, a mixture of defeat and admiration on his face. “You sneaky little… I yield,” he said, meeting your gaze from beneath you. You helped him to his feet, and the two of you bowed to each other in mutual respect.

Johnny could have won if he hadn’t fallen for your trick, and though he felt a little embarrassed, he accepted his defeat.

“Marvelous victory!” Raiden exclaimed your name, clapping his hands along with Kung Lao and Kenshi. Kung Lao gave you a thumbs up, and Kenshi smirked at Johnny’s defeat, clearly enjoying it more than you enjoyed your victory. You smiled and gave them a playful curtsy.

“Kenshi, how about you and me?” Kung Lao gestured toward the training ground. Kenshi nodded, and the two headed off to spar where you and Johnny had just been.

“You vixen,” Johnny muttered beside you, folding his arms. Raiden, standing on your other side, smiled and suppressed a laugh. “I’d say she won fair and square, Johnny. You let your guard down,” Raiden said, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

You turned to Johnny, mimicking his pose. “How am I a vixen?” you teased, barely managing to keep a straight face.

Johnny laughed sarcastically. “You know exactly what you did.” His focus shifted to the next sparring match, while Raiden looked confused at Johnny’s remark. Clearly, no one else had noticed your little tactic.

—

You didn’t mind the peaceful domesticity of the moment, standing next to Kung Lao and Raiden in the kitchen. Kung Lao kneaded dough for baozi while Raiden prepared the fillings, and you focused on making side dishes using Madam Bo’s recipes. The three of you chatted and laughed together, enjoying the simple routine. Living together meant sharing responsibilities, taking turns cooking and doing chores. Tonight, you three were on kitchen duty, while Johnny and Kenshi handled the laundry. Johnny had been complaining about how tight his hands felt from using so much soap.

“Hey,” Kung Lao called your name, grabbing your attention. “You never told us your little secret. Maybe now’s the right time?” He dusted off the excess flour from his hands.

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re not ready yet,” Raiden added, pausing in his work to give you a reassuring look. Kung Lao rested his arm on Raiden’s shoulder, and the two of them watched you expectantly.

You had been putting off this conversation for a month now with, “I’ll explain when the time is right.” By now, they knew about realms, magic, and creatures, so your story wouldn’t sound too far-fetched. Maybe it *was* the right time. After all, you trusted them with your whole heart.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come at first. Sensing your hesitation, the two men continued their work, giving you time to gather your thoughts.

“I’m… Stormborn of House Targaryen,” you finally said, revealing your full name to them for the first time.

Kung Lao set the dough aside to let it rest and sat down across from you. “Stormborn? House Targaryen?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. You smiled and nodded.

“I’m from a continent called Westeros, a place here on Earth,” you explained. Raiden, looking puzzled, asked, “I’ve never heard of a continent called Westeros.”

“It’s hidden, barricaded by some kind of magic,” you said. “I’m not sure what exactly, but it separates Westeros from the rest of the world.”

“Why?” Kung Lao asked, resting his head on his arms.

“I don’t know… I was very young when I left Westeros, so my knowledge is limited.” You shrugged.

“Why did you leave?” Raiden asked, his voice soft but curious.

“Because it was dangerous.” A hint of sadness crept into your voice as you looked down at the side dish you were preparing. A small silence followed before you continued. “My father… he wasn’t a good man. He was paranoid and erratic, and because of his behavior, many turned against him.”

You remembered how guarded Dragonstone had been, how there were always guards and food testers watching over you and your brother, Viserys. Once, on your birthday, your father had ordered all your gifts burned, convinced they were cursed or poisoned. Gosh, how much had you forgotten?

“Was he an influential man?” Kung Lao asked bluntly.

“He was the King of the Seven Kingdoms,” you replied, looking up at him. “So, yes, he was influential.”

Both men froze. “You’re a princess?” they exclaimed in unison.

You cleared your throat and nodded. Kung Lao gaped at you, while Raiden bowed with a respectful, “Your Grace.”

You panicked at his formality. “Wait, no! Don’t! I’m no longer a princess. I’m just an ordinary woman now. Please, you’re my closest friends—keep treating me the same as before,” you pleaded, gently pushing Raiden back up.

Kung Lao still looked stunned. “Wait, wait, wait! So we’ve been friends with royalty from a secret land, and you never thought to tell us?”

“I didn’t want to keep secrets from you,” you explained, “but I was strongly advised not to share my background. It could have put me—and all of you—in danger. I didn’t want that.”

Raiden nodded, understanding your reasoning, though both he and Kung Lao still had questions. They shared a glance, silently agreeing to take turns asking what they could.

“Did people there have the same hair and eye color as you?” Kung Lao jumped in, still processing.

You chuckled. “No, only my family and those with Valyrian blood had these traits.”

“Do you have siblings?” Raiden asked next.

A small smile crossed your face as you nodded. “Two brothers—Rhaegar and Viserys. Though, I don’t know what became of them…” A pang of sadness tugged at your heart.

In truth, you barely knew Rhaegar compared to Viserys. You had only met him twice, as his duties as heir to the Iron Throne kept him in King’s Landing. Viserys often boasted about him, and you remembered one thing clearly now—Rhaegar had a beautiful singing voice. Nonetheless, you still loved him.

Sensing your sadness, Kung Lao and Raiden decided to steer the conversation away from your family. The questions turned into silent awe as you continued explaining your background. As you recounted what you could, you began to recall forgotten memories, fragments of your past that time had nearly erased. Though it did make sense for you to forget. After all, you were no more than five. Of course, you didn’t tell everything as it would be too much at the moment.

Maybe, you did remember and knew more than you thought.

By the time dinner was served, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, as though finally sharing your story had brought you some peace.

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kittymeowmrow · 28 days ago

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How Young Justice failed to properly discuss racism in the Martian plot line

I briefly listed Young Justice when I complained about recent shows failing to discuss racism, but I didn't go in-depth about YJ. So, I'm gonna do that now

First problem: It doesn't really make sense why the racism exists. They form their castes based on skin color, but they can shapeshift into literally anything. There's a socially acceptable ritual and lifestyle where they can turn their skin yellow. So in one sense, skin color is such a big deal that people will hate you for it, but in another, you can change colors and suddenly you're acceptable?

Why is it so bad to be a white Martian specifically?

Second problem: We never learn the history of the caste system. I'm not saying we need a full college degree lecture, but some kind of explanation for how they got segregated is necessary for this kind of story line. Caste systems exist because there are people who benefit from it and have the ability to defend them. You can't just tell everyone to stop following it. You have to systemically break down every reason they upheld it in the first place

Third problem: Red Savior Complex? The prince is the driving force for change, and it feels like a dishonest solution. I've just grown tired of plotlines where the living state of the lower class are only improved when the person at the very top is inexplicably so progressive that they will tear down the system they benefit from purely because they're just that good. No character development. No explanation. No backstory that details how he began to view the White Martians differently from how everyone else on Mars does

He didn't even know a White Martian before he met M'gann. He's championing people that he is never shown to know on a personal level. Even his love interest is a Green Martian. So, we have two members from different majorities being the main emotional core in a plotline regarding the plight of a minority.....

Last problem: White Martians as a whole are not uplifted during the story arc. Their plight is more of a plot device than the plot focus. Despite being the main victims of the caste system as a whole, none of the White Martians are allowed to fight for their community properly

Not even M'gann

The first White Martian we meet. The only White Martian for most of the show. The hero we've been getting to know for 3 seasons at that point who has an arc about her fear of being ostracized on Earth like how she was on Mars, isn't allowed to make a difference for her community back home

The only White Martian attempting to do anything is her brother, and he's the extremist

Are M'gann's parents former activists who became too exhausted to keep fighting? Maybe M'comm got disavowed by an activist group who slowly became uncomfortable with his extremities. Is there a White Martian politician who dragged themselves trough the mud to get their position and could've actively helped the queen and prince argue with that racist politician?

The season 4 Martian arc just does not hold up. It doesn't properly dissect the realities of racism. From how it starts, how it persists, how it is challenged. In my opinion, they didn't even do the bare minimum for this kind of plot line, and I just did not like it at all

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