#Do these gods respect him as an ally or do they pity him

[cerealboxlore]

Do you think Billy Batson is allowed to enter Olympus???

Would Zeus vouch for him and let him in?

Is there a door in the Rock of Eternity that opens up to Olympus?

Just imagine. This small boy in a red sweater, walking into Olympus, surrounded by ethereal and immortal gods and goddesses, just to like, pick some nice flowers for his adopted mom on Mother's Day. Or, maybe he's having lunch with some gods or deities, like that one comic panel where Billy is eating ice cream on the moon with powerful mages/people.

Would Billy Batson share a pizza with Hades? Would he have lemonade with Hera? Would Billy invite Mary to have breakfast with Artemis and Apollo?

There are so many questions, and not enough time in the day to write a cute little domestic fic about Billy Batson and his adventures in Olympus.

[feyascorner]

wish you would look at me

summary. convinced that you’re in love with another, when you approach him with a serious expression, he readies himself for the inevitable—rejection. but is it ever that simple?

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

warnings. light angst, fluff

a/n. this is inspired by the ppl who have love triangles w gale and astarion in act 2 and what he says if you pick him bec when I saw that I almost cried pls let him be happy

If you asked him a few weeks ago, he’d laugh at the mere suggestion that he could ever be jealous of someone like Gale. That blasted wizard couldn't go four steps before begging for a magical shoe or pathetically limping his way behind the rest of the group while you frantically searched for the said shoe. And when he found out the wizard was a few errors away from exploding, somehow Astarion felt even more pity (not really) for the lad.

Yet here he was.

He’s not sure when the hell you and Gale had gotten so chummy, but it rubbed him the wrong way. Even if his expression would never show it. He sips at his wine while Karlach and Wyll continue to chat about God knows what, too busy peering from the corner of his eyes as you lean into Gale’s shoulders to look closer at the book he was holding.

Perhaps the tadpole had finally made you lose your mind. He'd almost dropped his goblet when you denied his invitation to his tent tonight, spouting the excuse that you'd asked Gale to help you with something, and now this?

God knows why you ever found the wizard charming. If Gale could do something, he could too—much better, in fact. He was sure of it.

His grip tightens around the goblet when he hears you laugh.

Sure, his original intentions for approaching you had been less than noble…and he might have seduced you for more selfish reasons than you originally knew, but as much as he hated himself for it, he'd grown rather fond of you. In his own way, of course.

He’d only realized that the anxious squirming in his stomach was not of fear but of affection when you'd defended him from that vile drow at Moonrise Towers. He'd half expected you to ask him to throw himself at her, yet you stood your ground, showing nothing but respect to his own boundaries while you failed to realize that he'd deceived your own.

He truly had no reason to feel this way. He was selfish, he knew, for feeling so possessive because not once had the two of you established being exclusive. Though you'd respected him, you saw him for just that. A friend to respect, and nothing more. Sure, you'd spent a few nights together, but it was a mindless night of passion and he knew he'd continue to be your fling until you found another to truly love. He had just hoped it wouldn't be someone like Gale, of all people…or Wyll…or Shadowheart…or anyone for that matter.

He shakes his head. The wine must be getting to him. Serious relationships aren't a luxury he can afford, he reminds himself, relaxing his shoulders. He’s perfectly okay with being your ally—nothing more or nothing less. Ecstatic, even.

But when Gale flips a page of the book and both of you lean closer again—this time dangerously close—he feels a sharp pain shoot up his hand.

“Uh, Fangs, you alright there?” Karlach stares at the cracked glass in his hand and even he blinks at it in disbelief.

Apparently not.

He sighs irritably, dumping the glass elsewhere. “I’m quite alright. Seems I just need a nice comfortable mattress than a thin bedroll on the ground, but it’ll do for now.”

“Need help patching that up? You're bleeding.”

He almost laughs, if it weren't for the giggle coming from your direction. “Blood’s my specialty, darling, remember?” Without another word, he paces into his tent, closing the flap behind him for the universe signal that screams ‘don’t bother me.’

So when half an hour later, when he no longer hears the crackle of the campfire, he sees your shadow emerge from the other side of his tent flap, he squints.

“Can I come in?” He fails to respond, and hears you shuffle. “Ah, are you asleep?”

At this, he can't help but snort. You instinctively peek inside, and he runs a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. “If I'd been asleep just how would I answer that question?”

He motions you closer and you take it as a sign to step inside, careful to avoid stepping on any of his belongings before situating yourself in front of him. “It was rhetorical, obviously!”

“Of course,” he doesn't seem convinced, lips curling into a teasing grin. “Now tell me, what brings you to my palace this late at night? Surely not for a cuddle. I'd thought you declined my offer earlier?”

Usually, you'd smile, but instead you only look down at your clasped hands, seemingly in thought. “I needed to talk to you—without everyone else watching.”

The usual brightness to your tone is missing.

Oh, he thinks. You've come to end things with him.

“Ah,” is all he says. He can tell his smile hasn't dropped, but it doesn't feel that way. “I hear you've found a new lover. Perhaps you want to keep yourself for this one, true love? How romantic, darling.”

You frown at this, and he wonders if he’s done something wrong. But it does little to stop his defense mechanisms from springing into action, because he’s immediately slipping into his usual mask, grin stretching wider but never reaching his eyes.

He hates the words coming out of his own mouth as if they taste of poison. Still, his voice is steady, almost teasing. Perks of the 200 years spent shamelessly lying, he supposes. “So, is this the end of our late night trysts? Even though they were an awful lot of fun?”

He doesn’t think he could stand watching you with that damned wizard. He doesn't even want to think about it quite frankly, because all he feels is his chest tighten when he imagines someone else holding you the way he does. And gods, if had to watch Gale’s poor attempt at flirting one more time…

But then again, you'd be with someone who doesn't manipulate you. Someone who doesn't toy with your feelings, or someone who doesn't seduce you for protection.

His smile twitches, and he just braces himself for your response.

“I’d rather be with you.”

He stares at you, eyes wider than its ever been since he'd gotten this damn worm in his brain.

“What? Why?” he blurts, embarrassingly so, before he composes himself again and clears his throat. “I mean, well, I know why—but I thought you'd had something more…with Gale.”

As much as he despises the idea, he'd seen the way you'd laughed with him. And while it was a new experience for him to be fond of another person, he'd found that these feelings had led him to rather you be happy than dragging you down with him. If it meant you wouldn't regret your choice, he’d been willing to deal with it.

So why?

“I want something real with you, Astarion,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I don't know if you feel the same way, but Gale and I are better off as friends, and I told him before I came here. And besides, it’d be cruel of me to lead him on while my heart is with another.”

He thinks he might have died again just now. For the first time in decades, he’s actually at a loss for words. “I—if that's what you truly want—we can try. Be lovers, I mean.”

You finally smile at his words, and Gods above if that doesn't lift the excruciating weight of the past few weeks off his shoulders. He feels the warmth of your lips when you lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek, everything happening so fast that his mind is spinning. He snaps back into focus when you pull back.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You could have—should have, done it earlier. With a smile of his own, he leads you back to him, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. It’s short, and not nearly enough, but it’ll do for tonight.

“Well then, consider yourself wholeheartedly taken then, my dear.”

[pray-montana]

As someone who is also a despicable me fan I’d love to hear some headcannons for Valentina (as someone who struggles with making headcannons I’d like to hear some from another persons view)

Thank you very much for your question. I couldn’t even imagine that someone would be interested in my opinion about the DM characters!

Unfortunately, the summary about Valentina is quite vague, but this has its advantages. So the field for thought becomes much wider ✍️✍️✍️

I'd like to start by saying that Valentina is an ally, but also independent of Maxime and his views on villainy (not like Harley and Joker.) This makes her not only a modern woman but also a strong character if the writers aren't lazy. It’s a pity that her summary and explanations contain no specific facts, other than the fact that she is cool and a proponent of a healthy lifestyle💀

• I think that in her relationship with Maxime, she is the voice of reason. Even if he believes that he's the head of the family, he makes the final decisions after considering her reasonable arguments. She's able not only to convince Maxime, but also to cheer him up in the worst times, even if it doesn’t seem so at first.

• Compared to Maxime's bright appearance and eccentric behavior, she silently shows who is trash here.

• She, unlike Maxime, is a perfect pilot of their giant ship. Plus, judging by her emotions in some of the shots, she really enjoys it! In this, I understand her 🏎️💨

• Sofía Vergara claimed that Valentina's arrogant personality also concealed a soft side. I believe that this side is personified in her dog, who, in contrast, looks very friendly. At first I even thought that it would be better for them to even swap pets with Poppy.

• I think she was that rich straight-A student in high school. BUT! It wasn't for nothing that she was considered the coolest girl at the Lycée. She looks very intelligent, reserved, and calculating, which is perfect for a villain. C'mon, she got her boyfriend out of jail?!?!?

• She has a whole ritual of preparing for going out, from beauty procedures to choosing outfits and combing her pet's hair. But Maxime still gets ready longer, even though he has half as much to do.

• Valentina looks like a trendsetter. She probably has a whole collection of branded shoes, handbags and other luxury items.

• Valentina is SINCERE in her relationship with Maxime. Have you seen the shot of her smiling enthusiastically when he shows her his invention? God, I want to wish this dynamic for everyone who wants to find a healthy relationship.

• I'm convinced that she knows a lot about humor, and in a way that not everyone will understand: Valentina will joke with the same serious face and voice as usual. You just need to listen to the words. (Perhaps her vibe is somewhat reminiscent of Daria series?)

• I think she actually doesn't treat Gru badly and may even enlist his help in the film. At the meeting, she simply doesn't care about Gru and everyone else. But she'll only help to take revenge for the sake of Maxime... as long as it's sounds like a good idea

• I think that before her relationship with Maxime, Val was disdainful of insects. However, she then worked through the issue and became neutral with it. By the way, she vibes like a dragonfly, don’t you agree?

• Val had to get used to the fact that her partner was special not only in personality but also... Well, in general, at the moment she has no problems with Maxime's features. Great message about accepting other people. I respect that!

• She may be soft on the inside, but she doesn’t act like she’s being overly cute. She looks like an adult woman and shows gentleness, attention, and care like an adult too.

• She often has to save Maxime from trouble, even from the stupidest ones, like a flytrap. But it doesn't annoy her at all🤲

• I am convinced that Valentina was the one who instilled self-confidence in Maxime and offered him a way to present himself, based on his hidden qualities!

In any case, I am sure that the relationship between Valentina and Maxime will be harmonious not only within the framework of being villains, but also as ordinary people. They don't look like people I'd want to wish bad things upon.

[cienie-isengardu]

MK1 fanfiction

EDIT: now all chapters will be collected under the title of Cracked mirror of black, cold soul

No one asked for it, but as I did not get enough Bi-Han & Shang Tsung interaction, I was forced to write about them myself. The first part is at least done, we will see if I managed to finish the second. Mainly written as a character study of MK1!Shang Tsung, a bit about his relationship with Damashi, General Shao and potential partnership with Sub-Zero post story-mode.

There was a time when Shang Tsung was nothing more than just a pitiful loser clinging to an even more pathetic life. All he could do to survive was to pretend to be someone else, someone better, wiser; someone worthy of trust, someone people like and listen to. Lying to people was easy. Lying to himself anyone would care if he died came much harder and harder with each passing day. 

Then came Damashi and offered him not only power but also kindness, a praise for making progress, be it for fulfilling her plans or for his own growing skills. He would gladly burn the world just to earn her smile, a good word, anything really. She made him for the first time in a long long time feel valued, appreciated, even liked despite who he was under all the polite words and charming smiles.

But that was a lie too. A lie he foolishly fell for, like a stray, hungry dog falls for a kind pat on the head and a little treat before the new owner will kick it for fun.

Shang Tsung was many things but definitely not a dog to be kicked, be it by Liu Kang or his Titan self. If none of the gods cared for him, he wouldn't care for them either. And now, after he ran away from prison and a terrifying storm washed him ashore on a deserted island full of magic secrets to unlock, he had time and means to repay each of his pursuers, to make all the realms if not respect his skills then fear them.

Since Damashi’s - his own Titan self’s - betrayal many days and nights have passed and with each Shang Tsung’s mastery of magic grew stronger, his knowledge deepened, his confidence restored and strengthened. He claimed the island as his new home, the impregnable fortress secured by the most wicked, devilish and brilliant traps he could think about and for the first time in ages, he finally felt like belonging to the right place.

It was as good a life as it could be. Not perfect, as Shang Tsung still needed to figure out how to secure his food supplies before he would tame the wild land, unused for years and maybe the animals lurking in the shadows could be useful too. A domestic cattle would be a great addition for sure, as it was the only type of animal he had any skill to maintain but then again, there was no way he would engage in tedious farming. He had no time nor patience for that kind of work yet he did not want any stranger on his island either. All he could do for now was to eat the catched fishes and some plucked from tree fruits while bringing all the needed ingredients and supplies from a quick trip to the land. Using magic portals was a tricky solution - magic brought unwanted attention and once used, always left some traits to follow but after the last storm he did not feel safe on a boat sailing through the open sea. On the land, he did run into some of his former allies, exchanged important news and some secrets here and there, never truly betraying where he was hiding. The General and his men treated Shang Tsung with suspicion, always demanding more than he offered. On the other hand, he and Quan Chi worked well in the past, but after the last betrayal, Shang Tsung couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Everyone blamed him for his Titan self’s lies, like he was the one lying to them all. The Royal Family wanted his head, the Earthrealm Champions hunted him too. It was a mess, amusing and irritating at the same time. 

He was going to deal with that matter too, when the right time came. For now, Shang Tsung enjoyed the new found magic - the power awaiting for those who will dare to reach out for it. A power he didn’t need to share with anyone.  

Everything would feel much better though if Sub-Zero didn’t somehow find a way to break into his new home like all the deviously set up traps meant nothing.

Shang Tsung should know something was off the moment he felt coldness creeping into his bones, but in all fairness, it was always cold here. He did not have yet an idea how to heat the interior of an abandoned fortress and as much as he liked to not freeze in his own sleep, luxury like that was not on his priority list. He should be more cautious, more focused on the change in the air about him than walking straight into his own room and then be dumstocked at the sight of Sub-Zero looking through his books as if he had lived here forever and Shang Tsung was the unwanted guest.

“Your security is shitty” was all he got as a greeting. Cold, sharp, uncaring words judging him as an incompetent idiot. The bastard did not even bother to look at him, just kept rummaging through the books like it was the only thing worth this attention.

Shang Tsung wasn’t sure what offended him more - being ignored or watching as his precious belongings were touched without his permission. He liked books way more than he liked people. 

In the last few years he killed people for less than that yet he smiled his most charming smile, the gears in his head working fast and furious on how to turn the unpleasant situation for his own advantage. The fact that Sub-Zero allowed him to see himself in the open instead of lurking in the shadows to cut his throat gave Shang Tsung a reason for a bit of optimism. As far as he heard from his former, maybe-still-maybe-not allies, Lin Kuei rejected Liu Kang’s authority and were on their own. It of course did not mean that Sub-Zero was his friend or ally nor that he wouldn't murder Shang Tsung at the end of day, either to reconcile with Fire Lord or to bribe the god to let the Lin Kuei be in peace.

Shang Tsung couldn’t blame Bi-Han for that - in this cruel world, everyone was looking after their own best interest, but the vision of losing his life did not sit well with him at all. He wasn’t afraid of fighting and he did beat down great Champions in the last battle, but out of all opponents, it was Sub-Zero's ice axe that was the closest to beheading him for good.

He did not plan to forget that anytime soon.

“What an unexpected surprise,” he said, all the soft, so sweet smile, velvet voice and sharp eyes analyzing the danger standing before him. “What can I do for you, my friend? Or did you just miss my humble company?”

He teased with feigned innocence because men hated when he said ridiculous stuff like that. Shang Tsung hated it himself, because he knew no one would miss him at all.  

“For one, drop the false politeness” came Sub-Zero’s cold reply, a mix of disapproval and command that Shang Tsung was so used to, because this was how people treated him, the real him, all his life. “We are not friends.”

There was a flare of anger in Shang Tsung now, the desire to prove himself the superior, not a pitiful dog anyone could kick and command - but he knew better than to allow this fire to burn inside him. Emotions were a weakness he couldn’t afford. Did the man even know how much he provoked the sorcerer with his cold disdain? Shang Tsung had no idea. He heard a lot of stories about Lin Kuei; even in the backwater hole from which he crawled out everyone heard the terrifying tales of Fire Lord’s secret army. Of the ice demons stealthier than shadows and more deadly than night itself and for a long time Shang Tsung did not think of them as living beings from this world.

Still… Sub-Zero was mortal, wasn’t he? A special one no doubt, with control over ice yet he could bleed too. Shang Tsung wondered for a moment what he could find under the fine, cold skin if he ever had a chance to look for the answer. An ice demon, human or hybrid of both?

“But we are still allies, aren’t we?” he asked, still polite and careful, yet walking up to the other man with his typical swagger. Not close enough to be in arm reach, but close enough to show he wasn’t that easily intimidated. 

The great military hero of Edenia always looked down on his movements; how he fought, how he gesticulated, how he walked. No self-respecting soldier would walk like some pleased prostitute after a well-paid job, the General said not once nor twice and all Shang Tsung could do then was to smile the brightest smile and thank him, like his disdain was the best praise he heard that day. The only thing they really have in common, beside the desire to take down Sindel’s regime, was being self-made men for both worked hard to be who they were. Yet General came from an old, aristocratic family with even older military tradition and everything that did not fit his narrow-minded idea of the world was treated with hostility and contempt. 

Shang Tsung’s skinny body, swagger, shrewdness, curiosity and wordiness unsurprisingly annoyed the great warrior and to say he took no pleasure in that fact would be a blatant lie. Even if it was childish and unproductive pleasure, it amused him to know how little effort he needed to test the patience of such a stern and manly man. 

Sub-Zero reminded him a lot of Shao and he suspected it was the soldier thing; the body built for fight and hardship, no-nonse attitude and the way both men moved - with deadly precision and confidence only a person that in fact killed an enemy in battle could muster. Even the way they spoke sounded similar, a barked command that everyone around instinctively wanted to obey, either out of respect or fear.

For that similarity alone, Shang Tsung expected the Lin Kuei Grandmaster to snarl at him some nasty remark about how his Titan self betrayed them all and thus how little he himself was worth of anyone’s trust. Anything to put the sorcerer down even a bit, to remind him what a failure he was.

“That is yet to be seen” was all the Grandmaster said, finally glancing from the book to Shang Tsung. 

It was hard to read anything from the man’s face, as half of it was hidden behind that damned Lin Kuei mask. All he could do was to rely on the move of a brew and the incantation of voice, each syllable, a moment of pause. It was a hard task, as the man showed no emotions and spoke so little so far. But the sorcerer knew there was anger, always lurking in each word spoken by Sub-Zero, but also… an excitement at finally being free of Liu Kang’s control. As Damashi foretold.

Shang Tsung couldn’t help but to think there was something much deeper about Damashi's interest in breaking Lin Kuei from Fire Lord than he ever suspected before. Back then the choice sounded logical - every action that would deprive Liu Kang of the advantage was worth taking so he did not question his benefactor. How could he, really? Now though? The truth burned him to the core and he learned the hard way that each of Damashi’s words had a hidden meaning, each action served a different goal than was promised; the victory he was in fact never part of. Yet… even the deepest shade of lie had a grain of truth. He knew that one well, for he lied all his life.

His Titan self for some reason wanted not so much the Lin Kuei itself as the Sub-Zero specifically on his side. Maybe more than Titan Shang Tsung even wanted his own younger self, corrupted by Liu Kang. 

The mere thought made him want to curse all gods alike. There was no difference for him between Liu Kang and his Titan-self, as both played him like some pawn, not even an important figure. Just pawn, to hold away from power, to sacrifice it when times would come. 

But there was more to it than just jealous anger and the never ending feeling of never being good enough. If Sub-Zero meant so much, if not in the grand scheme of things itself then just for personal satisfaction of Titan, then maybe he could be important to Shang Tsung’s own plans. Allies were hard to come by and these days he could use some, well, not protection really, he was done with living under someone else's wing but he wouldn’t say no to some partnership or at least casual support. The little favor here and there where things were still thick and troublesome to deal on your own. After all, freedom always came at some cost. 

Maybe Sub-Zero came to the same conclusion and his unexpected visit was just a reconnaissance. They were more alike than one would think, as similar desires drove them into this madness of Titans. To prove their own might and skills to all those that looked down on them their whole life. But above everything else, to be free and powerful enough to keep that freedom.

To his own surprise, Shang Tsung took comfort in that thought.

If they were meant to stay allies - or as close two stubborn outcasts with grudge against gods could rely on each other, some sacrifices were to be made. Shang Tsung did something he rarely did - he dropped the false politeness under which he hid himself for years.

“How did you find me?” he asked Sub-Zero directly, raising his chin challengingly. He was not afraid of Lin Kuei, just curious.

“You are not as careful as you think you are” Bi-Han answered with no less challenging stare, yet the flick of an amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. Shang Tsung knew the man was smirking under that damned mask and that thought alone made him puff in anger. 

The brown eyes shone even more.

Sub-Zero moved from his place, slowly walking from one bookshelf to another. His fingers traced books, never stopping at any particular volume, but always touching the book spines, like there was something interesting in their textures. The man did not pay attention to Shang Tsung and not really to books either. He was studying the room itself. The sorcerer couldn’t place why it bothered him so much but he knew better than to allow Sub-Zero to learn even the most trivial things about himself or his fortress. 

Damashi warned him against that the first day when she spoke about Lin Kuei. They are thieves, the mysterious being said, all grace and patience and praise for the unwanted Shang Tsung who drank in her words like the wisdom of gods, who will steal your fortune, life and secrets. Always be on your guard around them, especially around the one named Sub-Zero. If only he was smarter back then, less in need to please his generous benefactor, maybe he could hear in her sweet voice the longing for something, someone, that was not anymore. For the old partnership that was broken and defiled by Liu Kang’s peaceful vision of the world. But he was a fool who thought her yearning was for him alone. 

Shang Tsung was done with being played like a fool.

“Who told you about my island?” he demanded, voice still quiet yet no less burning with an old anger. He would get his answers, whatever kindly or by force.

A long sigh escaped Sub-Zero’s lips and frankly it took him out by surprise. Shang Tsung - or rather his Titan self -  knew the man was running on frustration for years, but that sounded as a whole new level of annoyance.

“I heard about it from Havik, who heard that from Rain, who heard that from Reiko, who heard that from Shao, who heard about it from Quan Chi. But the whole Sun Do is full of similar gossip.”

For a moment none of them spoke. Shang Tsung stared at Sub-Zero’s impassive, half-hidden face that still somehow emanated his disgust at their maybe-allies-maybe-not-but-definitely-idiots who apparently couldn’t keep a secret to save their own life. The feeling was mutual, because this was the reason why the sorcerer hated working with others. No one apparently could keep their mouth shut down if you didn’t help make that permanently. 

He closed eyes and rubbed his forehead, like that could ward off all the bad thoughts assaulting his mind right now.  His fingers were cold, too cold for his liking, unpleasantly stiff and numb. He did not like how the mere presence of a cryomancer affected his body, how it made him shiver and weak. He was an Edenian for fuck’s sake, and Edenia did not even know what winter cold was. He did not know that himself, until Damashi led him to a snow-covered fortress and he almost freezed there the first night. 

It took him a moment to realize something bad was happening. He couldn’t focus, all his senses dulled, body so clumsy and weak. As if his energy suddenly dropped to zero and fatigue was taking over. A flash of panic crossed his mind, but he was too tired, too cold to even be afraid for his life.

He had no idea how long he remained in the grip of this piercing soul frost. A few seconds? Days? He couldn’t even say. What mattered was that once the control of his senses came back, he was still alive and Sub-Zero gone.

And the fact the bastard stole a few of his precious scrolls and books.

***

The books showed up on his desk a few days later. There was no thank you or sorry about that note, not even the fuck you, loser. Shang Tsung both admired the man's boldness and hated him for it. Still he appreciated the books were returned in a good condition, as there was not a single scratch on any of them, not even a new page crease. He had no idea if that was some sort of weird Lin Kuei’s way to test him, disrespect or Sub-Zero took the books simply because he wanted to read them but he was a bastard with no sense of social politeness to just ask as any normal human being would. Damashi mentioned cryomancers were naturally difficult like that.

Shang Tsung had better things to do than to wonder what the check was wrong with Sub-Zero yet he was too curious for his own sake. Sadly, the titles alone did not say anything useful on the matter and even though he read each book just in case, there was hardly anything worth the time it took to finish them. No grand secrets revealed, no magic or military knowledge, not even historical value. Just some technical nonsense that bore him to death and if Sub-Zero was into stuff like that then no wonder the man lacked any social grace. 

The Grandmaster of Lin Kuei so far did not try to kill him and returned the books so Shang Tsung decided to give him the benefit of doubt and so he did not cross out the man from the list of potential allies. It did not stop him however from improving the traps just in case the man decided to return solely to steal again.

***

The scrolls showed up on his desk three days later. Their appearance actually worried Shang Tsung, not just because the trap again turned out to be useless. He was not worried even by the possibility Sub-Zero found some secret entrance he did not know about yet. No, what worried him was the fact he spent the whole morning in his chamber and walked out for like twenty minutes at best and when he returned, the scrolls WERE. THERE. 

That actually unnerved him much more than he wanted to admit. 

The scrolls turned out to be written in a language Shang Tsung did not even know and the implication that Lin Kuei could read it only added to the feeling of cold unease. There was however a note left on the scrolls; a small paper with only Royal Army searching the coast written in Shang Tsung’s own language. 

He was not afraid of empress Mileena’s army but he did appreciate the warning. Of course, the warning could be a fraud, a means to build trust only to betray him. The common sense advised caution yet there was a weird sense of peace within Shang Tsung. A hope or hunch, he did not know, but deep in his heart he felt everything was alright.

All he could do for now was wait to see if Sub-Zero will lead the enemy to his fortress or not. So he waited.

(The fact that another book disappeared with Sub-Zero did not surprise him much. Irritated, yes, but not worried. For some reason he felt everything was like it should be, like some almost forgotten memory of past life came back to him and the sense of deja vu was weirdly comforting.)

[sapphiewritesstuff]

Dude I need a hardcore yandere Namor x reader!

Where your Riri’s friend and specialize in chemistry and biology so you know how to make different materials for her and even make money off the side with selling your stuff to the government. And Namor definitely wants to kill you like the scientist but after finally seeing you in person has a change of heart, his mind convincing him it’ll be a waste on someone so intelligent to die, especially someone so beautiful- Namor then rizzes you up enough to manipulate you into staying with him after the war

(Extra points for tension and possessive)

love your work please drink more water 💧❤️❤️❤️

Hi!! Thank you for the request and I’m really really glad you like my work, thank you for supporting me <33 I will try my best with this ask, as I usually don’t write hardcore Yandere, so if it’s not what you expect I’m sorry, but I am a soft girl at heart and Namor is my bby girl <33

Warnings: GN! Reader, Yandere, Violence, manipulation, kidnapping, Namor is dark but not darker than he is in the movie, isolation, punishments, murder, not proofread.

-You were kidnapped along with Shuri and Riri, knocked unconscious by Namora and taken to Talokan.

-Namor takes an almost immediate interest in you, wanting to talk to you and learn more about you. At first, he tries to excuse it as trying to get closer to the enemy, even though he doesn’t treat Riri the same way, but later learns to accept that he thinks that you’re beautiful.

-He accepts the fact that you're a genius, your inventions and experiments are like none other, and it intrigues him. Talokan could use someone like you, it would be a waste to kill you.

-The more time he spends with you, the more infatuated he becomes. Everything about you is perfect, from your brain to the way you act to the way you look, he needs you as his own.

-You plead with him to let Riri and Shuri go, but never beg for your own freedom, and Namor respects how selfless you are.

-Nakia soon comes to rescue the three of you, but as Namor started keeping you in his private hut, she was unable to take you back to the surface.

-You told yourself that they would come back for you, that they were just planning their next move, but days turned into weeks, and nobody ever came.

-Namor took pity on you, he hated seeing such a beautiful person be ruined by the surface dwellers, but he knew that he could use this to his advantage.

-One day, he sat down beside you, taking your face into his hands, and very firmly, yet gently, told you words that you'll never forget.

-"They're not coming for you, my love."

-He 'takes care' of the Wakandans soon after. (Interpret that as you will, if Wakanda and Talokan become allies he convinces them that you're in Talokan willingly, you're too afraid to say differently.)

-Life with Namor isn't spent as a captive, if you can overlook not being allowed to leave Talokan, he treats you like royalty (which you are, he has already made you the other ruler of Talokan through marriage). His touches are soft, and he feeds you only the freshest of fruits.

-Namor has a temper, there is no denying that, many poor servants have been subject to his yelling and wrath after disrespecting him or you.

-Despite this, he never lays a finger on you.

-Punishments? He doesn't like hurting you, his little scientist, but he knows that if he doesn't teach you, you'll stray away.

-He isolates you. You have been down in Talokan for god knows how long, with Namor being your only interaction, as much as you hate to admit it, it's nice having someone to keep you sane. Namor knows this, and uses it to his advantage. Whenever you act up or break one of his rules, he'll ignore you until you're begging for him to look at you again.

-He also makes you watch as he guts some innocent who 'wronged' you in his eyes. Sometimes it's an act of love ('look at what I would do for you!'), other times it's a punishment ('this is what happens to people you get too close to, it's your fault, stay by my side and nobody will have to suffer')

-You'll never see the surface again, he knows that the government will just come after you, he must keep you here to protect you and his kingdom. He's doing this for you!

-If you ever try to escape, god help you.

[lovahgal]

The King Who Vanished (Chapter 1)

A/N: I'm not used to tumblr fic format so I'm just wigging it. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS ON EACH CHAPTER (warnings may vary).

Main pairing: Aegond, might add more, for sure add some that are already Canon

Warnings: targareyans and their "queer" customs (-Alicent)

___________________________________________________________

Aegon rubbed his head in frustration, listening to his small council bicker and argue on how to approach his usurpation,

“And how do we know for sure that we’ll have the support of every house? What if the traitors outweigh our supporters?” Lord Jasper Wylde asked hesitantly, afraid to anger the Kingsguard who loomed around and observed the conversation. This was the first real issue to be brought up and everyone wanted to see how Aegon would react. Aegon took a chug of his cup, tasting the wine and letting the alcohol run down his throat before setting it down. The room went froze, the whole room looking towards the king,

“It’s not about trusting our allies to stay loyal, no. Most houses bent the knee to Rhaenyra when she was named heir, traitors or not, we need to make them want to be on our side.” Aegon declared. The room was still deadly silent, hesitant to add on or to disagree.

“We can… send crows or…” Aegon tried adding on but the stares made him irritated and uncertain to continue. He looked to his right over to his mother, to see if she had anything in mind, but he was only met with her pitiful face that she always had. Sometimes Aegon wondered if that was a natural expression or if her life had soured enough to leave her in a state of constant disappointment and pity.

Aegon was ready to dismiss the council all together, feeling embarrassed,

“I think dragons would be faster, dear brother.” A voice behind him suddenly said. Aegon turned and looked over his shoulder, leaning slightly to look behind his tall chair. The window that faced the council was occupied by Aemond, who was looking onward towards the city. His arms behind his back, straight posture, and his long silver hair loose but neatly kept. The light of the sky gracing Aemond’s sculpted face as he looked towards Aegon,

“Ah yes! Dragons are much faster, that’s an idea I could stand by.” Grand Maester Orwyle added, praising Aemond as if the idea was originally his. Aegon clenched his fists under the table as he smiled,

“Then we should start as soon as possible, time is flying by.” Aegon said, the last phrase being a joke intended to no one but his own amusement.

As the meeting came to a close with a plan in effect everyone began escorting out, Aegon gathered himself as he stood up. He picked up the crystal ball and held it in his hands, his mind racing with many thoughts. He knew he had a reputation of not being the first choice for a king but he still wished for the minimal respect or acknowledgement for his decisions. His father had left him a big mold he felt he could never fill, a peaceful era that everyone wanted to maintain. However, conflict was upon them and he has never had the basic knowledge of war.

“Where should my grace wish me to start?” Aemond asked, his voice so close that it made Aegon flinch and nearly drop the ball,

“Gods! Don’t linger like that!” Aegon scolded his younger brother, who smiled innocently. Aegon fixed his posture as he turned to the table in front of him. He sighed as he looked down at the map, nearly untouched. His finger taped down onto the map,

“Uh, we’ll start South, then West, then North, but we won’t cover much today since the day is short.”

“We?” Aemond asked in disbelief, as if it was a joke, he was curious on his older brother’s phrasing,

“What? You thought you were gonna go alone? This is about showing them strength.” Aegon justified, finally finding purpose to do something,

“I think Vaghar is enough to show them.”

“Not just strength in power, they need to be reminded of the strength of our house.” Aegon explained, turning to Aegond,

“We’re also showing them where the loyalties of the strongest dragon rider are.” Aegon added with a smile, trying to be in his brother’s good mood. Something in Aemond changed, his right eye twitched as his smile dropped. He faced away from Aegon as he made his way towards the door

“Very well, we’ll go to Storm’s End today and make it back by nightfall.” Aemond announced before walking out of the council room. Now Aegon for sure was alone, he looked at his other hand, staring down at the crystal ball he had previously picked up.

__

In preparation for their trip, mother had insisted for Aegon to wear some armor for protection. After all, sending the king was dangerous but Aegon was insistent on tagging along. While Aegon expected to wear armor from a knight or the kingsguard, he did not expect to be presented by the dark set of armor his grandsire held out to him,

“It belonged to Aegon the conqueror when he ruled over the seven kingdoms.” Grandsire had explained. Aegon awkwardly smiled and before he could protest, he already had servants helping him fit into the heavy valyrian steel. 

When his fitting was done he took a moment to look at his reflection he could see that the armor was obviously too big for him, it was created and fitted for the dragonlord, Aegon the Conqueror. A different man than what Aegon was. He tugged at his sleeves, hoping to at least fix his own clothes to seem presentable to Lord Borros of House Baratheon. 

There was a knock on the door, Aegon turned around, suspecting the Aemond stopped by to tell him to hurry up,

“Come in.” He called out, ready to deal with the wall that was his brother. Instead of Aemond walking in, it was Haleana, who checked behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Aegon’s eyes furrowed in confusion as she approached him quickly,

“Heleana-”

“The tree cradles a snake as it eats the dove” Heleana suddenly says, looking down as she’s a couple of feet away from Aegon. It was as if she just wanted her statement to be heard. He learned that his siter-wife had a habit of muttering weird riddles, sometimes they held a deep meaning other times, like now, held no significance to Aegon. He learned to just agree with her, mostly to get her to calm down and prevent her from persisting. They weren't close as children, and even grew farther apart once they were wed together,

“I… see Heleana, I’ll make sure to look out for that?” He said confused, not sure if he was saying the right thing. Ahead, Aegon caught a glimpse of his brother walking by, all ready to go. As he tried to move to exit, Heleana suddenly pulled his arm,

“What are you-”

“The dove falls from the tree, wings clipped and crippled for eternity. The skies out of reach, Aegon.” She tells him directly, looking at him. This was the first time she acknowledged him with her puzzles. Aegon chuckled nervously,

“Poor bird.” He noted, Heleana stared at him intently but her grip eventually loosened, allowing Aegon to slip out of her reach,

“I’ll be back soon Heleana.” He says, as he exits to head towards the Dragon Pit.

Heleana clutch the skirt of her dress as she watched her brother leave in a haste. She ran a hand over her lips, feeling like she should have spoken out more,

“The snake follows.” She mutters

[moongothic]

I want to see Hancock and Crocodile interact... No particular reason, I just want to know what the dynamic would be...

Like we haven't really seen Hancock interact with a lot of people outside of Luffy... Just a few people from Amazon Lily, Momonga and Smoker, Rayleigh and Jinbei

And like yes, Hancock hates men except Luffy and Rayleigh, and after Summit War I think she at least tolerates Jinbei?

But if Hancock does leave Amazon Lily and heads to the New World, if by some confusing turn of events she ended up getting invited/dragged into Cross Guild... IDK I'd just. I'd love to see her interact with the others there and what their dynamics would be. Like I'm sure she'd just fucking kill Buggy. Which would be valid, go off queen, pertify him. And considdering how chill Mihawk tends to be I think those two would be able to at least tolerate each other?

But how would she and Crocodile interact, what would that dynamic be..? I'm so curious...

Especially because in the Impel Down scene where Hancock finally gets to speak to Ace, when she abuses her Feminine Allure on the other prisoners to rile them up (so she can create a distraction to speak with Ace), the only characters we saw who didn't get riled up were Ace, Jinbei and Crocodile. So it could be entirely plausible Crocodile could be immune to her powers much like Luffy, and that alone could like... inspire respect and/or fear in Hancock, because she'd know the guy doesn't view her as just a piece of meat. Also Hancock's ability to completely neutralize so many enemies is just. So OP. I could totally see Crocodile wanting her to join because she'd make for such a powerful ally for Cross Guild.

But also... God, could you imagine if Crocodile somehow found out about Hancock's secret... 'Cause there's so many ways that could go... Like Croc could totally use that knowledge to his advantage and intentionally blackmail Hancock to joining CG, which really could work. If the whole world found out she was a slave, if the Marines ever caught her she'd get shipped right back to Marijoa (and god, if the Tenryuubito found out she ""belonged"" to one of them, I could imagine them wanting to send people to get her specifically). So like, Crocodile would have the worst blackmail imaginable against her. But also, letting Hancock know she could get sold out at any second would just give her all the reason to try to kill Crocodile through whatever means nececary. Like if her safety depends on Crocodile keeping his mouth shut, and she can't trust he'll do that, then surely instead of giving her a reason to betray him he'd at least attempt to inspire trust instead? Like yes he doesn't believe in trust etc etc but surely he's smart enough to understand the situation he'd be in?? Like either you go out of your way to explicitly make her feel unsafe and afraid of you, or you try to make her feel safe-ish?? And you know? Crocodile hates the Government, and sending Hancock off to become a slave would not benefit him at all. It'd just make some monster in Marijoa extremely happy, and I'm sure Croc wouldn't want to give them that joy. And you know, Hancock arguably would be safer with the other former Shichibukai than if she continued to sail around the New World in search of Luffy alone with her crew. Hell, if she helped fight some Marines, she'd be ensuring those Marines wouldn't get to bother Luffy instead, so she'd be able to support him from afar.

So like. While I'm sure he wouldn't actually give a shit about Hancock or anything (maybe at most feel some unspoken pity on her), it unironically would benefit Crocodile to just try to be nice to Hancock. And how would Hancock take it, how would she respond to that?

I'm so curious of how that would play out. How these two would interact with each other. It's so interesting to me okay

[dirtytransmasc]

@for-got

This is the gist of my Quaritch theory as well, mostly because it's pretty realistic, but also because, I don't know, it's soft and mushy and will make me cry.

I imagine him going insubordinate for Spider, refusing too many orders, going behind the General's back one too many times; he loses their trust, does it knowingly, all for his kid.

Because he's tired. Tired of playing the role of a dead man, tired of reliving memories that don't feel like his, tired of sticking to the same path that got him killed. He's tired of hearing screams, he's tired of smelling ash and char, he's tired of scrubbing his hands of the blood that will forever coat them.

Most of all, he's tired of seeing his son's disappointed son's face staring back at him with contempt and disgust. He's tired of having to pick between his living, breathing son, and a cold, violent mission.

The second he leaves (with Cupcake, of course, he ain't leaving his girl behind to those sky people), he looks for his son. He doesn't really have a plan, Spider may run from him again (and he wouldn't chase him. He respects his son too much to force himself on the poor thing), Neytiri and Jake may try and kill him (and this time he might just let it happen), and even if by some grace of God (Eywa?) none of that happens, where does that leave him.

he's a colonizer, a genocider, he is drowning in innocent blood, even if it was his original self that did most of the damage, he still followed his path. he can't fix that, can't change what happened, he couldn't dare expect any Na'vi to put up with him, to pretend like his face doesn't haunt their nightmares.

in all honesty, he'd just be happy to see his boy one more time, to hold him and see him smile one last time, to know that he is safe and loved. he could give up then. spiders the only thing he has, and if the boys safe, then that's ok.

I imagine him becoming sort of a recluse, living alone with Cupcake somewhere in the woods, somewhere spider can come visit him. I feel like Jake would have some (small) sympathy, and Neytiri (who can be reasonable, I hate that people fail to see that. emotion and logic are two different things, she struggles with the later, and I hate to even call it a struggle) understands the pain of his current existence, stuck between, living a lie, playing a role; she can forgive him and not want him around all the same.

I think Quaritch will become a fragile ally in a later movie, but I know for a fact he's gonna fight to have week ends with his boy. he did all this for spider, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get a little time with him.

and spider feels so conflicted. he saved him because he saw the good in him, he stuck with him and loved him because Quaritch loved him back, because he didn't treat him like a pet. but he knows his family aches at the mere thought of Quaritch, that he is once again torn between 2 lives, even if one (Quaritch) is significantly better (spiders place in the family runs deep; he's not only adopted, but adopted out of pity and burden, he's different and can barely function in their world, and he's human. no matter what changes happen to the sully family, he will never fit in, he will never be an equal to them) he's still so loyal, especially to the one he's been with longer. He clings to his father, he still loves him, but he fears that he'll trade 1 person for his whole family. he's scared he'll lose everything.

he's like the ultimate child of divorce. it's like an eternal case of 'who do you wanna satay with for the holidays' except the holidays is just life, but it's the dread of picking one over the other, knowing it's a trick question. pick one and your shamed for ditching, pick the other and your guilted for leaving the other out and missing time with them. this is all happening when spider and Quaritch just want time to nap in the son and bind like father and son, while the Sully's make spiders life hell (they don't mean it, but spider dynamic with them is not, and most likely, will never be healthy).

they're gonna need a family therapist next movie, they already did, but I have a feeling it's gonna be a lot worse come the inevitable Quaritch redemption.

[theyareweird]

My Hero Academia: Katsuki Bakugo —Aesthetic

Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight's Character & Personality

Katsuki is a crude, short-tempered and aggressive person. He tends to come off as unheroic. Thus, Katsuki is extremely arrogant and condescending to those around him. He often brags about his Explosion Quirk power. While often portrayed negatively, Katsuki's fierce and competitive drive granted him an inspirational mood-maker role of sorts in Class 1-A. Determined, he's incredibly focused on achieving his own authentic victories and has learned to never underestimate his opponents. Katsuki's athletic and talented at fighting. He's also intelligent and extremely perceptive, capable of strategic planning and improvisation. Moreover, Katsuki's grades are among the highest of his class as he's serious at studying. Additionally, he has surprising talent in other areas, like cooking and music. Though Katsuki doesn't have an interest in them. Overall, he's a natural-born genius with the potential to be one of the best Pro Heroes around.

While a volatile hero-in-training, Katsuki is able to discern who his enemies and allies are. He isn't nice or open with people who are on his side, or anyone else either. However, Katsuki will act less unfriendly and sometimes kind to those who manage to earn his respect. Overtime, he slowly matures. Katsuki befriends some of his classmates and willingly engages in social interaction with them, though he remains solitary for the most part. Beyond this, he has a habit of giving insulting nicknames to others. Despite this, Katsuki can address others properly when it matters, like when he's serious or in the heat of battle. He tends to disregard the notion Quirks shouldn't be used in public and will use his Quirk to intimidate someone, to punctuate a point, out of frustration, or if he feels like showing off. Overall, Katsuki doesn't care about what others think, barely containing himself from violent behavior. He highly values honesty. Katsuki never lies to the point his brash candor is rude and insensitive. He's never afraid to speak his mind and will notice when people aren't being truthful to him. Thus, Katsuki is an excellent judge of character, making it hard to deceive him.

Due to constant praise of his abilities, he has a superiority complex. Because of that, Katsuki desires to be the first and best at everything. He loves to win and can't stand it when he doesn't. Katsuki will lose his temper or, less often, sulk. He's fiercely competitive and will never settle for less than the number one spot. Katsuki has a compulsive need to always strive for victory and prove people who doubt him wrong. However, he values hard work and fair play, to the point of refusing to acknowledge a winning result if he feels his victory wasn't earned by actual merit. In addition, Katsuki detests being pitied or looked down on by others. He'll hold contempt towards those who don't take him seriously, while recognizing the effort of those who manage to put up a challenge against him. Because of his Quirk, Katsuki is quite confident and brave. He's willing to go against anyone who challenges him. Katsuki never backs down from a fight and will go out when facing a powerful opponent. He knows when dealing with someone is out of his league though. Katsuki is prideful and prefers to act alone. He hates being protected or having to rely on others to assist him unless, he's recognized as the unquestionable leader in a team. Overtime, Katsuki's teamwork skills gradually improve. He acknowledges his teammates importance, protecting them from harm while expecting them to do the same for him in return. As a leader, Katsuki is a merciless perfectionist. He'll only become satisfied with complete, indisputable victories.

Katsuki often has difficulty accepting his mistakes and shortcomings. He'll fiercely deny them whenever they're pointed out by others. However, this doesn't mean Katsuki doesn't listen to advice. He'll realize his faults and how to somewhat improve on them thanks to other people's help, but he'll never outright admit it due to his pride. Katsuki prefers to self-reflect in silence and solitude, becoming a bit more brooding during those periods. Katsuki has a vulnerable side, with moments of fear and guilt. He feels a hero should never stop fighting or give up, regardless of the threat they face. Always winning is the mark of a true hero for him. However, Katsuki is unwavering in his aspirations of heroism. He refuses to become a villain because he views them as people who lose and not win like heroes.

[velidewrites]

Two Gifts and a Sword

What if I told you love is meant to feel better than this?

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x Gwyneth Berdara

Word Count: 947

Warnings: None

Note: This is my very humble submission for Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet Cute. Enjoy!

It was nearing midnight at the House of Wind, and Lucien longed for the blissful quiet of the darkness.

He’d left the townhouse as quickly as he could, exchanging greetings, good wishes and gifts—exactly in that order. After so many years, the Winter Solstice had become nothing more but a routine.

There was only one thing different about today.

This year, he did not bring her a gift.

Feyre received one, of course, and, for the first time, so did Nesta and her mate. A mating present, he’d called it when Cassian mumbled something about not getting anything for him. Since I couldn’t be there for the ceremony, he added, and that seemed to appease the male enough.

Two gifts—and that was it.

Whether she’d take it with offence or a breath of relief—he didn’t care anymore. The only thing he did care about was getting past the training ring and straight into his bed.

He found it already occupied.

A female was practicing under the moonlight, her hair like molten copper flowing atop a gentle breeze. It was a different shade to his own—a richer kind of red, one that he imagined glistened brighter than the sun when she’d stepped out into daylight.

The female turned, and Lucien frowned. He’d never seen her before.

An intruder, then?

But understanding dawned upon her freckled face, and she lowered her sword, inclining her head in respect.

“Lord Vanserra.”

Oh, gods.

She must think I’m…

“I’m not Eris,” he told her, almost stumbling back a step. His brother and the Night Court were allies now, yes, though he doubted the relationship was close enough for Eris to be invited to family events.

Her eyes, teal like the surface of a calm sea, narrowed in assessment. “You are Elain Archeron’s mate.”

Something tightened in his throat at the words, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “I am,” he told her. Even though it means nothing.

“She isn’t here,” she told him.

“I know.” She’s back at the townhouse with another male.

Those eyes surveyed him again. “Why are you here, then?”

Lucien’s mouth twitched. “Who are you?” So…inquisitive.

“Gwyn,” she said, then cleared her throat. “I mean. My name is Gwyneth. Gwyneth Berdara.” She reached out a hand.

He found it slender and surprisingly strong.

“Gwyneth,” he mused, weighing the word on his tongue. Pretty. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Lucien Vanserra.”

“I know that,” she said, and he smiled, unable to help himself.

“How, exactly, do you fit into this court?” he asked.

Gwyn—Gwyneth—straightened, no longer leaning over the hilt of her sword. “I’m a Valkyrie.”

Lucien frowned. “Valkyries died out centuries ago.”

“Well, they’re back now,” she said, something like pride creeping into her tone.

Lucien almost scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. The training—” he started, but the flash in Gwyn’s gaze effectively shut him up.

“You think someone like me couldn’t have done it?” she challenged.

“No, I—” he sighed. “Forgive me. I’m…usually much nicer than this.”

She angled her head. “Is that so?”

“Well, I try to be, at least.”

Gwyneth hummed at that. “I suppose, in your circumstances, it is the least you could do.

Lucien’s mouth tightened again, and she quickly amended, “I’m sorry. Believe it or not, I, too, am usually much nicer than this.”

“I don’t need your pity, Gwyneth Berdara,” he assured her.

“It’s not pity I’m offering.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What is it, then?”

She sighed. “Understanding.”

He saw it, then—saw the sadness that hid behind those bright eyes, an endless sea of emotion she felt too deeply to risk a flood.

He saw it, because he felt it too.

“Is that so?” he asked her anyway.

She nodded. “It is,” she said, her gaze shifting up into the stars.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Gwyn,” Lucien said quietly.

A faint blush stained her cheeks as she looked at him again. “I thought we agreed on no pity tonight.”

Lucien smiled. “Right. Forgive me.”

“You know, for a nobleman, you sure do apologise a lot.”

He huffed. “I am hardly a nobleman.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I think you’re as much a nobleman as I’m a Valkyrie.”

Lucien’s gaze narrowed at that. “I’m…not sure what to make of that.”

Challenge flashed in her eyes again, and this time, Lucien met it with a grin. “You still don’t believe me?” Gwyn asked. “I’ll spar you right now,” she said, her grip tightening around the hilt again.

Lucien raised a diplomatic hand with a chuckle. “I think I’m starting to.”

Quiet fell, neither of them choosing to say anything, and Lucien, too, looked up to the stars. He was starting to realise why she’d opted to train under the open sky. There was something so calming in its darkness—a serenity in a world of pain.

“It hurts,” Gwyn’s quiet voice reached him, and his gaze fell on her again. “I never thought…” she shook her head, her eyes dropping to the stone floor.

Lucien nodded. “Go on.”

“It’s not important,” she hedged.

“It is.”

She looked at him at that—truly and openly, letting all that emotion rise to the surface. “I never thought that of all the things I’ve done, love would be the hardest,” she finally whispered.

Lucien swallowed hard. “I did know. I just thought…I just thought that this time, it would be different.”

Gwyn said carefully, “Perhaps it wasn’t love, then.”

Lucien nodded, and found that, for the first time, his heart did not sting with pain as he said, “No. Perhaps it wasn’t.”

[mrstsung]

Vent ahead. Sorry i just hate genuine fans of mk12/mk1. Not people who like a few things or think its a mid game and have a brain.

Nah im talking about those who are fucking praising it. As if it's the greatest thing. When it's not. It has many glaring flaws. More so than previous games. And those had flaws too.

And people who think that the roster cares for shang tsung. Wtaf.

So vent ahead.

Cw: vent

People are delulu(derogatory) if they think liu kang genuinely gave a fuck about shang tsung.

Like that is the biggest fucking load of horseshit.

99% of the roster hates him. And those that kinda care only care out of a business or necessity sense. Never any genuineness out of it.

If anything raiden cared more about shang's well being than liu ever did.

In most timelines raiden respected shang as a master and a nessicary evil. Raiden had more of a belief shang could turn a new leaf some day than liu ever fucking did. However shang is shang and does what shang do. So he never expected much. Given time and time again shown.

So why tf is chance hell would shang tsung ever be fucking friends with liu kang? Oh because he has power and authority now? Fuck that,that would make shang hate him more.

Also quan chi is a fucking disappointment. And wa sonly brought back for nostalgia bait. Why do you think they are pandering to mk:DA fans so damn hard?! They never were friends. Business partners sure,but that was a means to an end. So for anyone to have this is fucking stupid and obviously doesn't care or know anything about these two. Period.

Like damn,this shit is mortal kombat 101,shang tsung 101 even.

Liu hates shang because well if he didn't kill his brother in the narrative,it was a friend or ally. Course it was through mortal kombat so the point in moot for him but he's still sore from that. And understandably. (Look it's a complex situation given it's mortal kombat,but imma state my blorbos wrongs that HE ACTUALLY FUCKING DID OK? And no god damn game i ever played had liu ever be fucking chummy with shang. Even in a alt situation. Like that's crap. Period. Honestly liu if anything pitied him. Never friends,never pals,never anything beyond at best case scenario liu kang thought he was pathetic. And that wasn't out of love,care or fucking concern. )

However shang tsung has never had ONCE anything genuine from anyone,he doesn't trust easy.

And idc what the fuck delusional crack people be smoking mk12/mk1 storymode is GARBAGE. AND NOTHING IN THAT GAME IS CANON TO ME! EVER.

[dukeofdogs]

Vilgefortz

Chest 1: Vilgefortz did not need absolute power to be corrupted absolutely. Indeed, the mere pursuit of such a thing was more than enough to warp him beyond redemption. For reasons unknown, and driven by an unwavering desire to achieve his soaring ambitions, Vilgefortz sought to elevate himself to a god-like status, and was utterly consumed by this vision. To do this, he was convinced that he needed the Elder Blood, which just so happened to flow through the veins of a certain ashen-haired Child Surprise. Unfortunately for the megalomaniacal mage, the descendant of Lara Dorren had an entourage of formidable and ruthlessly loyal allies, and Vilgefortz met his grim fate at the end of a witcher’s sword.

Chest 2: Vilgefortz had never truly felt empathy. To him, it was a concept as alien as the most distant stars in the night sky. He had, however, perceived it in others, and saw clearly its significance within a social context. Reflecting upon the importance of such a skill, he concluded it would be beneficial for him to harness the power of empathy, so he may use it to his advantage. Thus, he studied it, closely observing how compassion and sympathy were used to form relations, bolster friendships, and⁠—most importantly to the mage⁠⁠—how they could be used to manipulate others. He mimicked what he saw, practiced his performance, and perfected his routine. Soon enough, he could maneuver the emotions of others as fluidly as he could wield a staff or shape the element of fire. As if simply pulling at the strings of a marionette, he turned his acquaintances into obedient puppets. Tethered to their master by an unwavering loyalty⁠, many of his underlings were compelled to commit atrocious acts on Vilgefortz’s behalf, with some even willingly sacrificing themselves to further the mage’s cause.

Chest 3: During his long stint as a mercenary, Vilgefortz traveled to the far corners of the world, assimilating the ways of various cultures and mastering an array of exotic weaponry⁠—including his favorite of all: the quarterstaff. A formidable fighter in his own right, the mercenary’s capabilities only flourished as he was indoctrinated in the ways of magic. Drawing upon the elemental planes, he would imbue his staff with the power of chaos. With a quick flick of the wrist, his weapon would hit with the full force of a battering ram, while remaining as light as a wisp of smoke. Moreover, he would use magic to achieve near-perfect precision and to hone his reflexes to split-second reactions. With this in mind, one should take pity upon all the fools who were unfortunate enough to challenge Vilgefortz in hand-to-hand combat, for the outcome of the bout would have surely been determined long before the first⁠—and often last⁠—blow of the mage’s staff landed.

Scroll 1: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen was an exceptionally powerful mage, a veteran of the Battle of Sodden Hill, and a member of the Chapter of Wizards—at least, until its dissolution in the bloody aftermath of the Thanedd Coup, of which he was a prime instigator.

Scroll 2: Strikingly handsome, devilishly intelligent, and skilled beyond his years, Vilgefortz commanded the admiration and respect of all those who knew him. It’s no surprise that many of his peers were envious of his fortunate position, yet, for him, these attributes were not nearly enough to sate his lofty aspirations. He wanted far, far more.

Scroll 3: Indeed, Vilgefortz was a vehemently ambitious man; his actions largely dictated by an unrelenting drive to become the most powerful being in the world⁠—and perhaps across all space and time, if one could even fathom such an authority.

Scroll 4: In order to pursue this all-consuming desire, the mage made a pact with the Nilfgaardian Emperor, promptly betrayed his countrymen and kin, and slaughtered all those who dared halt his progress. Alas, Vilgefortz made one too many enemies on the path towards ultimate power and his past sins soon caught up with him.

[absolutefreak69]

Love Bites: Chapter 8: Lord of the Goblins and Bitch in the Well.

The groups meet the worlds best boy, Xal finally finds some benefits to being an underelf, and Astarion meets the bottom of a well.

Hey, there aren't really any trigger warnings in this chapter. WEIRD! Everyone behaved... Aside from crass language of course but who can blame them!

Karlach is quite put out that she can not pet the dog beside the dead man on the forest path. She hops from foot to foot, the barbarian's big eyes

fixed on the lovely white dog who stands protectively over what must have once been his master.

“Tsk Va,” hisses Lae Zel as Xal casts a quick talk-to-animals spell and kneels down. “We’ve no time for strays!”

Xal smiles up at her sweetly then returns his attention to the canine The Gith has grown more and more impatient as of late. It’s understandable, he knows but as much as he respects the warrior, she has started grating on his nerves.

“We made time for you, didn’t we?” Astarion quips and Xal winces. If Lae'zel's general wrath wasn't focused on Shadowheart most of the time, Astarion's impressive ability to piss everyone in sight off would have already had him in the Gith's sights. He’s sure of it. And while part of him relishes the thought, the sane side of him wants all of his allies alive and well. Thankfully, Lae’zel doesn’t rise to Astarion's taunting or pull her blade and demand a duel to the death, only leans against a tree and glares at all of them.

Xal refocuses and holds out a hand to the dog who backs away slightly putting himself in front of the dead man. “Hello there boy,” croons softly. “I’m Xal. Is that your master over there?”

The dog's stance doesn’t quite relax but he does cock his head curiously at Xal. “Master, yes. We were attacked and master was injured. He’s just gone to sleep. I’m waiting for him to wake up so we can leave.”

Xal shook his head and felt a pang of pity for the animal. “He’s gone boy, I’m sorry.”

A mournful wine escapes the creature's mouth and Xal eases forward again. This time the dog allows him to stretch behind his ears and stroke his soft fur. Xal feels a curious sensation in his chest as the dog leans into him and he wonders if he’s ever had a pet before. Karlach sighs behind him enviously and he feels for her. What would it be like not to be able to touch someone without hurting them? Sometimes, he feels very close to knowing that answer himself but not now. He’s been— better today. The headache barely background noise and the urge within him is slumbering. He reaches out to move the dog's collar, revealing his name as Scratch.

“Can we PLEASE keep him?” Begs Karlach. She's clasping her hands in front of her and her eyes are pleading. Xal feels a smile tug at his lips in response to the childlike display. “What do you think, Scratch? Want to head to our camp?”

The dog looks up at him thoughtfully then turns back to look at his late master. “Thanks but… I’ll stay here for now, I think.”

Xal nods and stands as he gives Stratch one last pat on the head “Follow our scents should you change your mind.”

They leave the dog to its mourning and continue along the brightly lit path. “Do you think he’ll find us?” Karlach asks anxiously, coming into step with Xal.

“I think so. And based on what Damon said, we just need to track down some infernal metal and you’ll be petting him in no time.”

The barbarian nearly squeals with excitement. “OH God’s, I hope so. It’s been so long.”

Astarion, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since they set forth said in a subdued tone. “Sometimes I think I’d like to trade you Karlach.”

Xal frowns and Karlach cocks her head curious. “Whatcha mean, Fangs?” Her new nickname for the vampire seems natural and not at all antagonizing coming from her.

Astarion looks up at her as though surprised he’s spoken at all. “Oh, you know just. There were times I wouldn’t have minded people bursting into flame when they touched me.” He grins as though trying to make light of the statement. Xal feels the same rage he had felt that morning in the tent well up inside him and the desire to tear his friend’s master limb from limb for him feels quite different than his normal lustful desire to do bodily harm. From what little Xal knows, this Cazador would deserve every inch of agony he can inflict and more.

Karlach focuses on Astarion, her eyes alight with concern. He avoids her gaze and continues walking, tossing a dagger up and catching it with expert skill as he does. She looks at Xal, a question in her eyes and Xal shrugs. It’s not his story to tell, what little he knows of it, anyway.

Astarion inhales sharply, his head coming up sharply. He holds his dagger at his side and nods ahead of them. “Someone else is dead up ahead unless I’m very much mistaken and still relatively fresh.”

Lae'zel's sword is in her hands in a flash of silver. Xal nods and unsheathes the rapier at his side as Karlach takes the magic greatsword she took from the so-called paladin. They continue forward until they reach the bridge which is indeed littered with bodies. The metallic tang of blood hits Xal’s nostrils but no rot. Astarion is right. They haven’t been dead long. One of the corpses catches his eye. He kneels down and looks at the familiar human. His eyes are open and his face is frozen in fear. An arrow juts from his neck.

“Weren’t they with that human you scared shitless at the Emerald Grove?” Asks Astarion casually.

Xal nods and reaches out.

“Don’t you bloody touch them,” growls a familiar voice.” Xalor turns and sees Aradin striding across the battered stone bridge, his armor stained in blood and his eyes alight with the promise of violence. Xalor stands.

“What happened here?” He asks the human.

Aradin spits. “Ambushed we were. Fucking goblins. All my company is dead. And for what?” He moves a hand to his belt and Xal’s hand tightens around the hilt of his blade. But the man only pulls a piece of parchment from his belt and crumples it into a ball before throwing it angrily onto the ground. He spits again. “Bloody job isn’t worth it. I’m going back to Baldur’s Gate and to hells with this Nightsong… whatever it is. Then he stands for a moment, staring at his dead companions before turning on his heel then walking off.

“Well that was a bit dramatic, don’t you think? What’s the note?” Astarion asks as Xal leans town to grab the abused parchment.

Xal flattens the document and shakes his head. “A contract of some kind for finding something called the Nightsong.” He shrugs and shoves it into his pack. “Anyways, looks like we’re on the right track if it’s goblins we’re after.” The group had split that morning in search of clues to the whereabouts of the Druid Halsin. He nods towards a stone archway beside them, beyond which is a crumbling village. The faded sign proclaims the crumbling place to be Moonhaven.

“Reckon there’s goblins in there then?” Asks Karlach as she cracks her neck and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Should we get the others?”

Xal shakes his head. “Nah. I think perhaps we should go and say hello.”

Karlach and Astarion look at him as though he’s just suggested they should taunt an angry dragon in his own trove. Lae'zel simply stares at him, her expression inscrutable.

“Are you insane, darling?” Asks Astarion.

“I’m with Fangs on this one Xal. Shouldn’t we try being, I dunno, more discreet?”

Astarion huffs a laugh. “Exactly, although, Karlach my dear, I don’t know that discretion is possible with an 8-foot-tall, red, barbarian clanking about behind us.”

“Oi! I can be sneaky,” protests Karlach.

Both Astarion and Xal raise their eyebrows at her and she throws up her hands.

“OK fine, I suck at it but this is still a bad idea!”

But Xal still shakes his head. There’s a memory there somewhere, something just outside of reach and he knows, somehow— just knows.”

“C’mon,” He grins, going to give Karlach a friendly elbow to the ribs and then immediately flinching back with a wince at the heat. “Don’t you two trust me?”

"I agree with Xalor," declares Lae'zel. "I tire of sneaking about. If there is to be a battle, then we will simply win it."

Astarion looks as though he’s about to say something appropriately scathing but Karlach interrupts with a good-natured laugh. “Alright soldier,” she says. “We’ll do it your way. Not like I don’t feel up to pummeling some goblins anyways.”

And so they find themselves stepping into the crumbling village, Xal side by side with Karlach and Astarion a few cautious paces behind. It doesn’t take long for the goblin woman to step out from the rooftop with her crossbow raised.

“Well, well, what do we have 'ere. Oi, halt there you lot! You’re surrounded.”

Xal’s eyes scan the area and find that they are indeed as goblins walk out of the ruined structures with weapons readied.

Xal only looks up at the woman and fixes her with an unblinking red stare, hoping to the gods that his half-formed memory hasn’t led him astray. But as the goblin woman’s eyes widen and her crossbow drops, he knows it hasn’t. “Oh, I’m—” the goblin woman stammers. “You’re a drow. Stand down you lot!” she shouts to the rest of them. “Got a drow here. And with a touch of the Absolute about him, I’d reckon.” She looks back at him and is almost bowing when she speaks to him again. “Apologies, M’Lord, I couldn’t make you out from a distance.”

Xal is still pondering over her statement about the Absolute and filing away the information for later when Astarion steps beside him and nudges him hard in the ribs.

“Ow! Oh, right— Don’t let it happen again,” Xal says in his best authoritative voice. Astarion rolls his eyes but it seems to work on the goblin.

“Of course!” She stammers. “You’re free to go where you wish.”

The goblins once again disperse and Astarion raises an eyebrow at him.

“M’lord?” He teases. “Do you think if I painted myself blue that they’d worship me as well?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” shrugged Xal. “Goblins might show deference to drow but the rest of Fae’run isn’t too keen on my kind from what I can recall.”

“Well done, soldier,” grins Karlach. “Let’s have us a little look around, shall we? See what we can dig up.”

***

It turns out there is quite a lot to dig up indeed. As promised, the goblins gave Xal and his companions no further trouble except one goblin laughing at a gnome strapped to a windmill. When they approach, he very nearly decides to throw hands— that is until his eyes lock onto Xal’s and he nearly pisses himself— much to both Astarion and Karlach’s amusement.

“What do you want— I mean— what do you need?” Asks the goblin, bowing low and shaking.

Astarion watches as Xal looks up to consider the screaming gnome and then down again at the pathetic goblin. He smiles just a little too wide to be pleasant and asks. “What are you doing to him?”

“Th- the gnome, your excellency— your liege— I mean my liege. Um.”

Astarion stares enviously at the blatant show of reverence and fear and wonders if he might not have been better off as a dark elf. Then he recalls what he’s gleaned about male drow and quickly decides his fortune might not have been much better in the Underdark after all… although Xal seems well-adjusted. Erm, apart from the whole impulsive violent tendencies that is.

“Yes, the gnome,” Xal snaps. “Obviously. Bugger off would you?”

“Erm, alright— I’ll just be… Come on you lot, let’s move.” Then he, the warg, and the other goblins with him leave.

Lae'zel shakes her head with disgust at them as they leave. "Pathetic."

Xal leads them past the high-pitched screams, and a dead, half-eaten sheep and into the back of the windmill. Astarion watches as Xal approaches the brake lever and a lever that will undoubtedly turn the crying gnome into a flying one and he sees him pause as though considering. Astarion waits eagerly for the drow to give into the call of the second lever then pouts as Karlach jumps in and makes the decision for them. The windmill comes to a grinding halt. Astarion thinks he sees something like relief in Xal’s eyes and it gives him pause. Funny or not, the man clearly hates being controlled by whatever is inside him. It’s something Astarion can relate to.

Xal unties the gnome who turns out to be rude and ungrateful, not even offering up any gold for their troubles. Instead, he only tells them to take his pack should they find it. He tutts in disapproval.

“Neither of you even tried to make him pay us for our help,” he wines a little later as they enter the ruins of an old apocathery.

“Why would we do that?” Asks Kalrach frowning.

He rolls his eyes and points a finger at Xal. “Her and Wyll understand. They need to be… ugh, heroic and shit but I’m SUPRISED at you Xal. Don’t your kind enslave deep gnomes.

Xal considers for a moment. “You know if my memory serves, and it doesn’t often, drow are famous for enslaving other people— including one another. I don’t know much about myself but I sincerely hope that I never cared for the practice.”

“Oi! You two, there’s a cellar here I’m going to go check out.” Xal stepped over to the tiefling and opened the cellar door, followed by Lae'zel.

“Ugh,” says Astarion. You two go ahead. I’ve had enough of dank underground places for-- well-- ever. I’ll go explore the rest of this beautiful little place.

Xal nods as he climbs in after Karlach. "You want Lae'zel to go with you?" He asks. "Perhaps we shouldn't split up here.

Lae'zel doesn't look pleased at all by the suggestion and Astarion is even less so. "Hard pass, my dear."

Xal snorts. “Do “try not to piss anyone off, will you?”

‘

Me? Astarion demands, raising a hand to his heart in mock outrage. “I would never.”

Astarian hears Xal’s long-suffering groan as he descends the ladder and grins as he stalks off.

Alone, he looks around the old Apoathery and raids it for any intact potions or poisons before deciding to back outside for some sunshine.

He looks around curiously taking in the goblins as they walk about doing whatever it is goblins do. He spots a group of 3 ogres crowded together in a rootless building and gives those a wide birth. He looks around at what have must been a lively town square once. Dilapidated merchant stalls stand empty and wagons are overturned. The ghosts of the children that must have once run rampant through the square play, hopping across a game Astarion can still see etched into the ground. He shivers as the ghostly voices of different children tug and pull at him but he quickly pushes those memories to the deepest recesses of his mind to be locked away forevermore. He’s very good at forgetting when he needs to.

He spots a well and, bored, wanders over to it, looking down. There is no water but with his excellent dark vision, he can just see the stones at the bottom. He stares into the well and allows his mind to wander again to the night before, to that wonderful, life-sustaining blood. He's already wondering if Xal will allow him another taste. Or perhaps it was only a one-off. Either way, he's free to indulge in their enemy's blood during battle now... but something tells him that it won't be quite so sweet as Xal's.

He’s so lost I thought that he doesn’t even notice the small, burly figure of the goblin as it comes up behind him u til it’s too late. Astarion feels his feet as they are swept out from under him and a pair of hands on his back, and then he’s falling down into the dark.

[kanohivolitakk]

Something that really appeals to me is when characters have the juxtiposition between kindness and cruelty, softness and harshness, compassion and malice. When they showcase both traits associated with goodness and evil. It's probably tied to how I find the traditional black-and-white good vs evil binary boring and prefer characters that have both good and bad sides to them rather than either being perfect saints or irredeemable monsters. I especially like when characters painted as villanous or evil showcase geniune kindness, compassion and empathy. It may sound oxymoronic, but I guess that's the appeal of it. The idea that these wicked monsters can possess geniune goodness in them in spite of their malice is just so appealing to me.

I think this is a major reason why I got so latched to Caron in the first place as I did, as he perfectly exemplifies this paradoxical juxtiposition between good and evil. The moment we are introduced to Caron he is characterized as prideful, smug and somewhat sadistic, enjoying his job and how delightfully pathetic Noel is. He amuses in idea that this teenager is willing to commit the dangerous ritual of summoning a devil all because she didn't win a piano competition. How petty, how amusing! Yet at the same time it is quickly established that Caron has standards: when he finds out that Noel didn't know about the nature of contracts he gets enraged, because tricking someone to do something they don't know the ramifications of is completely unfair to the person on the recieving end. Caron is established in wanting a fair trade: he enjoys his deals, but wants to have clear communication and respect between both parties. It's the reason Caron is picky with contracts: he only takes the contracts if the wish and contractor seem amusing enough for him, or if he finds something compelling about them. So it is both for his own amusment, but also empathy.

And this paradox is a large part of Caron's character, especially in early seasons. For as much as Caron is established as this honorable and noble demon with standards and limits of what he finds acceptable, he is still a devil, an inhuman monster thriving on human suffering and destruction. Caron does show geniune compassion and sympathy for Noel even early on when they're reluclant allies, but he gets geniune enjoyment of making fun at her expense.

Perhaps the best example of this is the contract Caron and Noel make at the center of the story. Yes, Caron's motives are partially noble: his reasons for this alliance stem largely of pitying Noel and wanting to help her get her life back, not to mention being enraged at unfair contracts and avenging those whose lives were destroyed by Burrows. At the same time Caron does have self-serving motives as well: he still wants revenge against Burrows for everything he did to him, both for th ebetrayal and the damage of his pride. Caron is very prideful, and Burrows refusing to paying the price hurt as much of Carons ego as it did of his sense of self.

But god just. I love how Caron is simutaneously a geniunely compassionate, noble and gentle soul yet also an arrogant smug asshole. The juxtiposition of these two sides is a major aspect of what makes him as great as he is to me.

[firerose]

Dark Piper:

@reading0mens

- Her voice is the most dangerous thing about her

- The monsters who attack her aren‘t killed by her dagger or sword,

-no they are told by a honey-sweet voice to jump off cliffs or impale themselves on their weapons - She is pretty, she always was but it changed after Jason‘s  death,

-her beauty is more intense now, brighter, deadlier,

-like a flame burning everyone who gets too close

- She‘s broken, her eyes are cold, her smile is bitter,

-her laugh is the last thing her enemies hear before their end

- Once she was led by kindness, compassion,  love,

-all those things died when Medea did, when Jason did too young

- Hatred leads her now, to the ones who killed Jason,

- to the one who just watched as he died,

-the one who had the power to save him

- After the emperor's death she began to hate the lord of the skies himself,

-he in her eyes is just as to blame for Jason's death as his killer

- She has allies,

-five remaining heroes of Olympus, Jason's close friend, remaining family, both demigod camps, all tired of the gods, their games and absence - She did not need Charmspeak to convince them,

-care love and pity for her were enough - She starts an open rebellion,

-thousands at her side ready to fight for her

- like thousands were ready to fight for Helen of troy - But she knows that Zeus can‘t be defeated without godly help - She prays, cries, begs her mother to help her,

-accuses her of not being at her father's side when Caligula ruined him

- or  when she was grieving

- tells her that Zeus and the others will never take her seriously as long as he is alive

- Aphrodite is easy to convince,

-blinded by her wish for more respect from the gods,

-by her guilt from watching her mortal family suffer without doing anything

- She begins to spread rumours on Olympus,

-Zeus does not respect them,

-Zeus is a coward keeping them from their children every time a new threat arises,

-Zeus is a cruel tyrant punishing them for tiny mistakes while making a hundreds himself

- Zeus never showed his family care, he only ruled, so one after the other beliefs Aphrodite -She is beautiful, kind and loving in her way, why would she lie? - So they decide that it is time for a change of leadership - Zeus can‘t be beaten in an open attack, so they come up with a trapp 

- Zeus doesn‘t take a new rebellion seriously, what damage can a daughter of Aphrodite cause? - So he feels satisfaction when her allies appear on Olympus, kneeling, humble - They beg for forgiveness, lie to him - His son's girlfriend is supposed to be in the underworld, making a deal with Hades to bring her love back - not following his laws is a good way to make Zeus mad, he does not wait for their worries, their tears - He immediately goes to his brother's kingdom - He gets ambushed at Hades Palace - A net forged by Hephaistos even stronger than the last one is thrown over him - His brothers hold it, he struggles but together they manage to resist - He is dragged toward the edge of the deepest part of the underworld - Where the Olympian council already waits to glow in joy

- their children next to them, with grim excitement on their faces

-Aphrodite is in the middle, beaming with beauty, eyes fiery, smile cold as ice - “ Oh Zeus stops struggling. I had to accept my horrible fate, it‘s only fair if you accept yours too.“ - Her voice is as sweet as honey, freezes his limps - She hid in the shadows, now she stands in front of him - Piper McLean, the demigod he saw as no threat, the girl he saw as weak - He realizes that he was wrong

- she‘s beautiful like her mother

-no her mother's beauty is warm,, soft,

- hers is overwhelming, radiating beauty, face as hard as stone,

-hands calm on her weapons, yet she seems to send out waves of power towards him

-Cold and harsh

- a horrifying command to either kneel before her or cower into a ball and hide - Her eyes are the worst part, Empty holes full of hatred, thoughtful -l she is thinking about thousand possible words to end his life -As he stares at her eyes,

-dark, shimmering like the night sky, he ses the power of Uranus, the first skygod, cruel, unforgiving

-Piper is his granddaughter,

-she a stronger claim to his throne than he does

-Piper knows this too,

-that‘s why Zeus is held over the edge while she pulls out Katoptris - The rule of the heavens glares -“ This won‘t bring my son back. Nothing you do will.“ - Piper smiles, it‘s a pained one 

- The fates won’t allow souls to flee the underworld even if Hades allows it

-“ I know and for that, you will die now “ - Her dagger is driven downwards, Golden Ichor is spilt - Piper watches Zeus fall into darkness. She grins, tears stream down her cheeks - He was right, she‘s broken, now more than ever,

-there is no distraction from her guilty anymore - She cursed the emperors and killed a god because that was easier to hate herself - Now Jason is still dead, thinking she was more worth living than him,

-Piper Mc Lean,  beautiful terrifying,

- Piper MC Lean starts to hate herself again

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So his was heavily inspired by the scene in burning maze because where Medea dies

Because my god that scene radiated so much god this girl is so badass and this girl is so not okay energy at the same time !

Anyway hope ya’ll enjoyed this one :)

[specialagentartemis]

*running into heavy traffic again* hey if we're doing nonromantic relationships... bingo meme for snavid and naomi 8)

OPENING THE FLOODGATES

The thing is, "double murder sibling-in-law reacharound" doesn't really have its own square. Neither does "I fucked your husband as revenge for you fucking my brother" or "you are kind of the only person left alive who actually understands me" or "we're both terminally ill and I'm spending my last remaining weeks making that your problem while also saving the world behind your back".

I think in another universe where it WAS Philanthropy who broke Naomi out of prison she could have been a strong ally and she and Snake could have eventually had many deeply uncomfortable emotional conversations where they came to understand and respect each other. They didn't, though. It was Ocelot, and Naomi and Ocelot were playing double-cross-chicken with each other because they both had the same ultimate goal but didn't trust each other to actually carry it out. It was actually the same goal Snake had and I'm screaming tearing my hair out at Naomi making Snake's last days alive a collection of spiteful jabs while also solving the Big Problem He Dedicated His Life To Solving for him. She blames Snake for her brother's death, but her brother died saving Snake, so she can't kill Snake without denying her brother's memory. Snake meanwhile is an incredibly compassionate person and pities her, and I think she resents that, but also he DOES understand her and lied to her about Fox's last message to her to make her feel better.

However I am 100000% convinced she was planning to kill Otacon out of spite, but then she saw Sunny, and Sunny is just like her at that age (a war orphan, parents killed in conflict with the people who then adopted her, raised by lifelong soldiers apart from Normal Socialization) and I think Naomi saw that what she was doing was just continuing the cycle she had fed into and was now trying to break. She was trying to destroy the Patriots and their war economy, but was double-orphaning another little war orphan girl the way to do it? Was it really? Otacon only survived MGS4 because Naomi didn't want to make his daughter sad, and her revenge on Snake by not-killing-him-but-making-him-miserable was ultimately less important to her than the goals of burning down the world order that made her and letting something new grow in its place. Because at the end of the day she agrees with him professionally even if she doesn't want to forgive him personally. And he's dying and she's dying and god what is any of this for if we're just gonna keep killing out of spite.

Fox forgave Snake. Snake forgave Fox. Snake forgives Naomi. Naomi cannot understand any of this and can't forgive--can't forgive Snake and can't forgive herself--and I think that's part of why she marked herself as part of the Old Order that needs to be wiped out for the world to grow back healthy.

(*the reference to plastic dinosaurs is that when I was a kid I would have epic multigenerational battles between dinosaur factions and every time a dinosaur died the toy would be repurposed as a child born into the new generation who would continue the blood feud war. This is how I feel about these two)

As you can see the 'highly specific situations' is this extremely specific construction of her actions and motives that bears only a dubious resemblance to what was actually portrayed in the game. It's truer, though.