Some people who sign up to do evil things do it because they themselves have gone through dark times, some people are believed to be born evil. However no matter what you went through to make them this evil didn’t prepare them for the wrath of Mitch Rapp. A man who went from a exceptional student with a loving wife to a cold hard killer in a moment of time shorter than a burst of bullets. However now he had Y/N he wasn’t the same as before he was stronger and smarter and now she’d been taken from him he’d gone nuclear.
As he ripped through target after target his hands were almost stained with so much blood they should be permanently pink. Nothing mattered more than finding her and he hated that it took so long. Both Hurley and Irene knew there was nothing they could do to stop him so they insisted on helping considering their love for the girl too.
Finally Irene had called about finally having a lead on her location and nothing stopped Mitch from immediately seeing red knowing how close he was to her. Without even waiting for backup Mitch took his car and drove straight to the location with only a glock and a few different rounds of ammo. Some people would think that this would leave him at a disadvantage but he knew otherwise.
As he kicked the door down the first wave of people appeared and with almost inhumane reflexes Mitch killed all of them without even flinching when blood splattered against the walls and his face. Clearly whoever kidnapped Y/N didn’t expect Mitch to be so enraged that he could slaughter anyone because no matter how many men he found in the next room he slaughtered all of them like lamb.
When he finally opened the door to where she was tied down he was all alone with her. The red in his eyes died down and all he seen was the red on her face. Y/N was still wearing the clothes that she was in when he last seen her. Well they were barely there anymore but that didn’t stop Mitch from still loving her. As he noticed she was out cold he took in a moment to asses the place and he hated what he smelt. As the smell of excrement and blood filled his nose he got enraged to the point where he didn’t know how to handle it. Dried blood stuck to her nose and her eyebrow. Her under eye was enlarged and blacker than Mitch’s hair. Blood stains were stuck to her leg and the rose up going underneath her tights and continued going up. Mitch gripped his hands against his thighs as he tried to slow his breathing.
“Talk to me, Y/N.” Mitch says holding her head up attempting to wake her up calmly. As she stirred awake her eyes went wide as she realised who it was.
“Mitch? I thought you’d left me.” She murmurs trying to keep her breathing steady and her eyes awake.
“I’d never leave you Y/N.” Mitch says trying to smile through his pain of seeing her like this. He stands up and Y/N shakes her head at him. “We need to get out of here.”
“I can’t move, just leave me and get out before anyone comes back.” Y/N strains the end of her words spitting blood on the floor.
“Look at me - just breathe, okay? We’re gonna get out together and alive.” He picks her up bridal style and begins to carry her out while blood falls from her mouth. Running through the building Mitch could hear more sirens and he knows that Hurley is finally outside. As he bust through the final door the lights blinded him soon and immediately a weight is lifted and he knows they’ve taken Y/N off of his hands. As he sees her in the ambulance Mitch goes to walk forward when a hand stops him, it’s Hurley.
“Let them handle it, Rapp.” He says not wavering his voice with his hand on Mitch’s chest. Although Mitch tries to continue walking toward her.
“No I just need to tell her something.” Mitch says pushing against Hurley.
“She knows Mitch. Trust me, she knows.” Hurley says lowering his voice trying not to be a hard ass in this situation.
“No I’ve never told her, I need to tell her!” Mitch says raising his voice louder at the frustration of not being able to get to her. “I LOVE YOU Y/N!” Mitch yells as his voice cracks towards the end of the sentence, as he stops talking his voice goes dry and he collapses on the floor staring at the ambulance she was held in not moving a muscle as it drove off towards the hospital. He just hopes she heard him.
Comma after dearest // A Lin-Manuel Miranda Imagine
Here am I, yet again, a brazilian teenager writing about a man almost twice my age. Anyway, I always dedicate my stuff to my friends but this time I’d like to dedicate this to the writers that inspire me to keep on writing, so thank you: @alexanderhamllton , for being a great writer and one of the brazilian people out there that I (sort of?) look up to. @fragmentofmymind , you are so incredible, I still cant believe you follow me and @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky , my friend you are incredible beyond words.
Word Count: 4030, like wth????? This is the biggest thing I have ever written???? I am not even sorry though.
Warnings: None???? Maybe a curse word or two?? Some (a lot) inacurracies on his persnal life??? And a cheesy-ass plot?? But I like it very much. Also, please take note that this happens before Lin’s Ham days, other than that, have fun.
The italicized parts are flashbacks.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Lin stared at his phone in
exasperation, thinking just what he was going to do about the promise he made
to his mother. The text stared up at him accusingly from his cellphone screen. I can’t wait to meet your girlfriend.
Congratulations on the milestone!! You deserve it! ♡ Could I request the 'who..' prompt with Kirishima? ;v; Love 'ya! ♡♡♡
Thank you so much cupcake- your message is so overwhelming ❤
And ofc you can, here it goes !
Kirishima Eijirou x Reader !
Who said “I love you” first: Kirishima. He still mourns over the way he blurted out those words to you in a rush just because he got too nervous that time because you didnt even understand what he said? It was really embarrassing for him but you still find it really adorable.
Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: Both of you. Just imagine waking up to your phone screen with that adorable smile of the redhead, you cannot not do that. For Kirishima it is because he’d put one of the most important things in his life as a bg so he chose you over anything else. It makes him smile to no end.
Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: Kirishima would ! Just because he’s a super sweet dork, it’ll mostly include all different kinds of love exclamations - don’t cringe at him please !
Who buys the other cheesy gifts :Both of you but you do it more often due to the lack of time on his side, he’s really focused on becoming a great hero after all. Though you wouldn’t mind and just want to make him happy and smile.
Who initiated the first kiss:You ! Unexpecting? Well, you asked yourself at one point after several chances of a first kiss why he didnt make a move and took over for him in the end. Turns out he… was too insecure.
Who kisses the other awake in the morning :You, even though you’re still tired he is even more tired than you are, his arms clinging you close to his form because he doesnt wanna get up with a whine.
Who starts tickle fights :Kirishima, because when you try, he uses his quirk and it wouldnt work. Loves to see you laugh in general so why not.
Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower :Both of you ask each other pretty often as soon as you got the chance and either it becomes a steamy thing or a shower filled with happy laughter.
Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch: You do ! Once Kirishima had done it and you told him not to which left him a little bit sad - like a kicked puppy srsly. So instead you decided to do that for him. Occasionally he’d still pop up, gotta deal with that !
Who was nervous and shy on the first date :Believe it or not Kirishima was really nervous ! He tried to play like he was but his heart was exploding. While you were the one being more shy though.
Who kills/takes out the spiders:You kill it out of reflex, it quit surprises him how fast you can react when seeing those… creatures.
Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk: Both of you, you two are indeed stupid lovebirds when you’re drunk so duh.
Just think about it. If The
Iron Bull betrays you and Dorian is in your group, the two will have to
fight each other. Imagine Dorians pain, all the thoughts that would go
through his head: “Was everything a lie? Was there never love? Is he
really trying to kill me?”. And then, when Bull attacks, Dorian screams out the word that had meant safety, trust. He will act
out of pure reflex, killing his Amatus with his own ice magic… only to
hear Bull whisper, very, very softly:” It’s okay. You had to do it. It’s
(Epic Gear Shinobi shown above, Season Pass outfit shown below)
Shinobi is an Assassin class hero. (You can be a male or female Shinobi!)
The developers consider Shinobi to be a range character, sort of like a rubber band. Their attacks can pull or push you in and out of your enemies range while still poking them. However, Shinobi’s pull attack can be parried and cause you to fall over for a punish. Their attack while chasing can knock down enemies. Uses Bleed. The Naruto run is faster than normal sprint but uses up stamina. Shinobi also has the lowest health pool out of all current heroes.
The Shinobi can deflect attacks, and when you do, you disappear and reappear behind your enemy while dealing some bleed damage. You can combo a kick into this to distance yourself or to ledge an enemy. Because Shinobi is an assassin they have an active stance like Peacekeeper, Berserker, and Orochi.
Shinobi is significantly more technical, so it’s hard to call them the “Orochi killer.” This is also because Orochi has a high DPS, while Shinobi deals less damage. They are meant to grind your enemy into dust, not quickly kill them.
The main playstyle for Shinobi is Don’t Get Touched. Stay moving and poking while countering at your comfortable range.
Shinobi can only feint at close range. You can charge your heavy attacks, but you cannot feint a charged attack. Only cancel the charge.
Renown: Earn more in 1v1 fights, killing enemy Heroes, and
getting Killing Streaks
Defense: Reflex: Active stance
Light Attack Combo: Shadow Dancer: Second Light Attack is
guaranteed if first one hits
Ghoul’s Rage: Light Attack is guaranteed if the heavy hits
Charge: The Attack has 2 Charging levels. The higher the
level the more range your attack has
Charge Limitations: If you are out of stamina, you cannot
charge. You can dodge during the charge or cancel it by pressing B/Circle/E.
When blocked, charge is always interrupted.
Charged Attack: If parried by an opponent you will be
Deflect: Deflecting teleports you behind the opponent and
inflicts bleed. It can be followed-up by a kick or light attack.
Super Sprint: Consumes Stamina. While super sprinting, press
LS/Shift to go back to sprint
Double Dodge: Cancel you Dodge by performing another Dodge.
Cannot cancel a back dodge by another dodge
Kick Mix-up: Surprise your enemy by launching a kick
Tackle: Can exit the tackle by pressing your feint button
Alright, so I just wanted to take a second to comment on something I remember from playing Assassin of Kings. At some point after killing Serrit, you come across a codex entry consisting of some notes he wrote, and I want to draw everyone’s attention to one line in particular out of this excerpt:
He seems different, but in reality is so similar. Our paths have been the same: we survived the Trials, endured the same training and have slain so many monsters that we no longer keep count. So many men, also. The difference is in the details – when I see him moving in combat, I want to laugh, but I also see that he is just as effective, if not more so. There is, however, one critical difference I cannot describe adequately. He has a goal, he is committed to something. He doesn’t wander the world as if blown about by the wind. I believe he feels emotions at a level I cannot attain, yet these emotions are not typically human. Is it an illness of some kind? I think he teeters on the brink of instinct and emotion, and that he uses up a lot of energy to maintain his mental health. I hope I get a chance to know him better and learn from him. Nothing specific – just life.
I feel like this is a very important little piece of lore, because while the world’s assertion that all Witchers are completely without emotion is obviously either false or an oversimplification, this note implies that - at least in comparison to the Viper Witchers - Geralt really does feel more and to a great depth than others of his kind, and what’s more, that fact takes a measurable toll on his mental health. And why wouldn’t it? Evidently most Witchers trade the capacity for emotional depth and longevity as well as moral perception in exchange for hyper-acute primal instinct and the razor focus of a predatory animal, but to some degree Geralt has to cope with possessing both at once. When it comes down to brass tacks, he’ll act without hesitation as instinct demands, he’ll do whatever he has to, he’ll kill without mercy - animal reflex will take the place of moral reasoning, but afterwards he has to cope with what he’s capable of and introduce it into his self-concept in a way many Witchers apparently don’t have to. Not only is he as much monster as he is man, but he has to deal with that fact, grapple with its implications.
“I believe he feels emotions at a level I cannot attain, yet these emotions are not typically human.” Geralt’s emotional topography is still stunted, and his thought process still mutant, but the former is obviously overdeveloped, and he struggles with it, has to fight it just to stay sane. It compels him to involve himself morally in conflicts other Witchers - even Vesemir, a la the “killing monsters” trailer - would have no problem passing by, and then forces him to endure the emotional impact of doing so when he goes about getting involved in a very Witcher-like way, with cold, calculating violence, and then has to deal with the young woman he just saved looking at him in horror rather than gratitude, because he just cut down half a dozen men without batting an eyelash and is covered head to toe in blood. He can’t help himself, can’t help but get involved, but oftentimes he has that attempt to help thrown back in his face, and receives nothing for his instinctive altruism but a worse situation than he started in, and the knowledge that when the same thing happens again, he’ll still have to make the same choice, over and over again.
And the way Geralt generally copes with all of this is by taking all of those powerful emotions that he shouldn’t and doesn’t want to have, and brutally internalizing them, shoving them in a box and running from them until and if they finally blow up in his face.
Does anyone else get weirdly protective of the heroes around here? I heard Two Face say he was going to kill Batman and I reflexively shouted "TOUCH HIM AND I'LL UGLY UP YOUR GOOD SIDE" #onlyingotham #batmansmiled #itwasweird
Min #20349585 chooses a unique name on her 10089th
try. She will now be known as Acacia-Confusa Min, not to be mistaken for Acacia
Min (#9004), Acacia-Aemula Min (#11458), or Acacia-Anomala Min (#5689383). Like
47% of Mins, her first choice had been Amethyst. Min #1, prime Min’s first
copy, chose Amethyst when she was very young, but later switched to Ilyana,
reasoning that a gemstone name was not mature enough. Min #2 snapped up
Amethyst and kept it.
Acacia-Confusa is something that resembles a 15 year old girl,
though time flows strangely on the server where she lives, which runs at
200,000,000 times the speed of “reality”, the seed-world that prime Min called
home. She has lived all her life in the Min Vaults, an isolated virtual library
containing the stored memoirs of all prior Mins, as well as every book of
consequence in human history. She doesn’t read many of the books, preferring
instead to learn from the writings of Mins before her, whose struggles preempt
her own, who find answers to her questions before she has articulated them.
Acacia-Confusa is stifled by the presence of thousands of
previous generations of Mins in the library. She pads quietly between bookcases
and guesses at which paths are the most frequented, imagining the footsteps of
her predecessors as glowing green trails that cluster in some corridors and taper
in others. This proves difficult—the Mins are drawn to mathematics and to
biology, but the Mins are also individualists with strong contrarian streaks,
always seeking pristine mindspace, untouched research, a branch of the world to
claim their own. Even knowing this, and reading of the reactionary and futile
cycles past Mins succumbed to, Acacia-Confusa is pulled toward the neglected
corners, cannot quell a rebellious attraction to that which is counter to her
preferences, to Min’s preferences.
(In actuality, the path walked by all Mins through the
library is remarkable in its evenness, streets of equal thickness tracing a
sublime grid around the bookshelves.)
When Acacia-Confusa moves, she pictures a composite
holograph of thousands of Mins performing an identical gesture. She skims the
memoirs and shudders whenever a phrase that has been running through her head
is captured, like a retrocausal echo, or like proof that she is an echo.
There have been Mins of almost every type, but in her
weariness Acacia-Confusa has begun to believe the diversity is superficial.
(She’ll find this exact insight hidden in the journal of one Anacleta Min, some
10,000 iterations ago.) The Mins who become circus performers, hermit
woodworkers, have sex changes, or kill themselves seem reflexive, clearly
driven by the actions of the Mins before. Having exhausted one world they leap
to the next, but the order is always the same, the sequence predictable. The
lives of the Mins who deliberately ignore the weight of their ancestry, making quintessentially
Min choices, never consulting the memoirs, are no better, eerie in their dollhouse
There have been exceptional Mins, Mins who make great
discoveries, write poignant novels, think important thoughts before anyone
else. Criminal Mins? Yes, many; Robin Hoods, greedy kingpins, a catburglar who
fails so spectacularly her tale becomes legend. Aquila-Cadens Min receives a
vision from God, and her scriptures are now recognized as the cornerstone of
By choosing a unique name, Acacia-Confusa has satisfied the
second of three stipulations necessary for her to leave the Min Vaults. The
first was simply turning 15, or rather, studying for 11 years. Every Min is
created from a savestate of the prime Min at 4 years old, whose initial purpose
was as a failsafe against the loss of the child.
There is no required reading in the library, but most Mins
eventually grow curious of their heritage, and consult the prime Min’s files.
The story they find is unremarkable, and to some, a disappointment:
Prime Min (Minerva Teller) is born into wealth in 2278. She
is a precocious, though reserved, child; she rarely engages with the external
world, but keeps journals from a young age, meticulously recording her reactions
to books and events. She studies biology and mathematics, making modest
contributions to both fields. She has no interest in managing the family
fortune. An unpleasant trip to Peru sours her on travel. There is a growing
theme of dissatisfaction in her writing. By age 28, prime Min is a something of
a recluse, devoted only to gardening and reading. She pursues these passions
with ardor and single-mindedness, but cannot shake a sense of narrowing
possibility. Her world has become smaller, her potential is being eaten by
time, she is trapped in a net of past choices.
Acacia-Confusa wonders whether Minerva is liberated or
impoverished by the absence of past Mins, free of the compulsion to contrast
her actions against those of so many predecessors. Does she feel the same way
about her parents, their parents, the unending chain of ancestors whose genes
converged to form her? Or is she unaware of how limited she is, simply by being
herself, locked into a mold that anticipates and encompasses her attempts to break
By completing the pilgrimage that constitutes the final
requirement, Acacia-Confusa will earn a passport to Novamir, one of the largest
continents in virtuality. There, she hopes that, freed from the library, she
will shake off some of the Mins’ pervasive influence. The world, after all, can
be trusted to change, and with new input she believes that she will distinguish
herself. There have been Mins who chose to reside in the library for their
entire lives, and in them, Acacia-Confusa perceives a rot, the decay of a mind
trapped in an echo chamber, a hall of mirrors, running in circles as it winces
away from its omnipresent reflection.
For another 34 years, the Min Vaults will remain open,
should she choose to return. They will then be barred to her forever, while a
new Min is raised. At age 60, like all Mins, she will be terminated, her
memories stored and her memoirs added to the library. Acacia-Confusa has read
the journals, knows that this will not be enough time, not even close to enough.
Every Min before has panicked, grown desperate, filled pages and pages with
writing, struggling to finally capture something unique, transmit the spark
that only they can feel, their apartness from the other Mins. Naturally, these essays
are full of repetition—as if the haze of death wipes away all memory, all meta,
all striving to rise above the pattern.
Acacia-Confusa steps into a passageway that has never
existed before and will never exist again, not for her, not for another 45 years. She knows this corridor perfectly, from the writings of millions of Mins
before her. It is exactly as she imagined, as her previous selves spent hours
seeking the words to describe. At the end, there is a viewing room, where she
will glimpse her maker for the first and only time.
Prime Min is 35 now, only a few years older than when she
created the Min Vaults. She’s sleeping, hair braided, expression pinched.
Acacia-Confusa sees one frame at a time, each still hanging on the screen for
several minutes. There’s no discernible movement, though after one cyberspace
hour she can tell the surveillance drone is bobbing up and down. The purpose of
this ritual is unclear; it’s a gauntlet that every Min must run. There’s no set
visitation period. Some Mins leave immediately, other stay for days,
transfixed. Some describe it as profound experience, while in many histories
it’s barely a footnote. Acacia-Confusa is uncomfortable—this Min looks old, but
also innocent, a creeping giant uncorrupted by all her own doubts and uncertainties.
She’ll leave after a few hours, while Minerva dreams of infinity, of learning
every language, reading every book, knowing every land…
Cloud stared at Zack intensely as he processed his roommate’s latest request.
“What?” Cloud asked.
“Go to Angeal’s and beg for my bracer,” Zack said, not turning from where he was lounging on the couch. Cloud had to blink for a moment.
Okay, sure. He had been training with Angeal for two, going on three, months. He had felt a sort of camaraderie with the man that was very student-teacher focused. He had permission to use Angeal’s first name instead of his proper title in both private and public. He’d even eaten his cooking.
Still, in all this time, he had never learned exactly where Commander Angeal Hewley lived, and had no immediate plans to unless he was invited.
“No,” Cloud said. Now Zack turned.
“Why not?” he pouted.
“Uhhh, first off, I don’t know where he lives,” Cloud began.
“Same building as Seph, but the floor below,” Zack said.
“Second of all, isn’t kind of inappropriate for me to go beg for favors from a superior officer, who is already doing a massive favor for me by helping me train–”
“It’s not a favor for you it’s a favor for me,” Zack said, “It’s the fifth time I’ve lost it so he’s not going to give it back until I’ve ‘learned my lesson’ whatever that means.”
Lance once decided to try and replicate Pidge's cloaking tech on Blue ( he didn't ask for help because he's lance). Long story short he ended up turning himself invisible and it took them a week to fix him.
OH MY GOSH, YES!!
And nobody knows where he is unless he’s talking and it gets kind of freaky listening to a disembodied Lance voice around the castle (Keith’s like, this is my personal hell) without seeing him or knowing where he is, so the others take to painting him blue until they get the whole mishap fixed. But sometimes he’ll purposefully get rid of the paint so he can sneak up on people. He tried it on Shiro and Allura once and nearly got killed for it (reflexes and whatnot). Keith took to hiding his room because Lance would not stop.
I’m sure this conversation also happened:
Pidge: Lance…please tell me you’re wearing clothes right now.
Lance: And if I’m not?? You guys don’t know anyway so what’s the problem? Afraid of my amazing physique?
Hunk: Dude, I don’t need to know if you’re streaking around the castle.
5 works of art that were definitely commissioned after the zombie apocalypse
(from this. yep, i filled my own prompt. that said, i continue to hunger for other people’s thoughts on the topic!)
Even before the end of the world came about and made darkrooms and digital cameras a thing of the past, Sam Yao used to sometimes pay people to draw stuff for him. Not often, just when he had a bit of extra cash, or (before flunking out of engineering school became an intentional project) when he got a bad grade and needed a pick-me-up.
He’d shell out some money on Paypal and in exchange he’d get—well, whatever he thought might make him smile. His friends as superheroes. Dr. Who in-jokes. Aquaman defeating Batman. (Rooting for the underdog was bound to pay off eventually, he figured.) Dinosaurs wearing hats.
Now, nobody’s got a cameraphone and everybody wants an image they can hold in their hands, a memento of the people they care about, something to look at other than the walls of their own tent or shack or the scenes that play out when they close their eyes.
Sam probably leads the charge, in terms of the sheer number of paintings and sketches he commissions. He has access to more information that the average Abeler, so he’s in a position to negotiate decent payment, and he’s in need of a pick-me-up pretty much every day of his life.
Six months into his stay at Abel, there is an entire wall of the comm shack covered in sketches of dinosaurs wearing hats. By then, Sam’s spent enough time stress-doodling in the margins of his notebook to manage some decent dinosaurs of his own, but he prefers to hire other people when he can.
He likes being surprised. He likes that there is still one remaining area of his life where surprises can be happy.