Nineteenth Century ROTTMNT AU

tagging @spoopyblues214 here because they love the meme with the four character archetypes (but instead of the victorian englishman it's a spanish revolutionary in this) potentially crossing paths due to them being from the same time period and i want to dedicate this post to him <3 i'd even credit them for the idea if i didn't write it down first (silly)

side note: this derives from canon SO MUCH but this is the best way i could make it work in my head to make everything fit into place

~

the year is 1827. seventeen-year-old raphael is on the run, wanted by the spanish monarchy for inciting rebellion in the spanish colonies. he ended up in texas where he found michelangelo, a fifteen-year-old ex-mercenary cowboy planning to return east. the two meet at a saloon, drinking sassafras together.

"i seen your poster 'round down south of the border they're buildin'. spanish king'd pay a pretty penny to have you behind bars."

"you haven't seen any thing like that."

"relax, i ain't doin' none of that no more, jus' wanna go east. i am beat from all the heat 'round here."

the two agree to travel together, since bandits in that area are dangerous to deal with alone. raph realises mikey is hella fantastic with a whip while mikey acknowledges raph is a hella good shot. raph prefers his knives though, it's easy to put the blade between his fingers, even if he runs the risk of cutting himself. the two travel from corpus christi to new orleans, resting in town for a little while.

after some time the two come across a former samurai, homeless and starving in the streets. they take him in, feed him and mend his garb. he carries a splintered bo staff and what little he has in a rucksack with a persistent frown on his face. sixteen-year-old donatello expresses his gratitude by giving raph his unused sai and mikey an unused kusari-fundo because of his whipping skills. the three of them live in louisiana for a couple months, enjoying the bayou until raphael felt like he was being watched. there is still a price upon his head, the lingering worry deepening the stress lines on his forehead. the three manage to board on a boat headed to new york. mikey and raph leave their horses with a free woman, april and her friend casey, who plan to travel on land masquerading as a slave owner with his slave. those two plan on meeting with casey's cousin, cassandra, moving in the lower east side to keep her company.

the three turtles board a ship with an annoying stock boy and a crew of rogues who call themselves the purple dragons. as much as the three avoid these bothersome pains in their necks, they always meet with the stock boy when they need food. they always cross paths with the purple dragons when they need to get to starboard for fresh air. a few months of enduring these bullies and their luck got worse once the ship was rounding the coast of the tip of florida. a crew of pirates came across their ship and donatello was sick of it, fighting the pirates off after they threw stock boy and the dragons overboard.

sixteen-year-old co-captain leonardo and donatello hamato were at a stalemate at port, raphael was held back by capitán piel and michelangelo pinned señor hueso down at starboard.

"aye, swift with your staff, hm ?"

"your blades are faulty, marauder !"

leo quirks an eyebrow and drops his swords, raising his arms in surrender with a smug look.

"let's strike a deal, fox-eye."

the co-captain gives piel a look and he lets go of raph, then mikey gets off of hueso, who stands and glares at him. donnie quirks an eyebrow and stands with his staff on the plank his feet are planted upon, waiting for leo to continue.

"my blades are faulty to you ? what do you know about blades ?"

"usually concerns for pirateers like you are gold and jewels."

"answer me or you'll have the shogun to answer to."

donatello stills and drops his staff, lifting his hands up.

"if you would allow me to reach for my family blades ?"

leonardo watches carefully as donatello unsheathes his twin odachi, carefully resting them upon his hands and holding them up with a bowed head. the pirate drops his swords, reaching for the presented blades.

"i have given you the last of my metallic weapons. now please leave my brothers and i alone."

mikey and raph were surprised to hear donatello refer to them as his brothers, but they connected the dots quickly and kept their smiles to themselves. leo observed the odachi in his hands and gave them a test swing, grinning to himself from how easy his technique came to him. he looked up at donatello, the samurai's head still low.

"aye, look at me."

donnie listened, a glint shining in his eyes as he blinked up at leo.

"you best be ready for another lad to join your family, because i am right here."

raph, mikey, and donnie join the crew of leo's ship. while capitán piel is the true captain of the ship, he lets leo lead pillages for fun. definitely not for the fact that the kid has a natural talent for leadership, he just had to learn the hard way how to watch for his crew. unfortunately, leo couldn't acknowledge the fact that a pirate crew is not expendable. señor hueso thinks the only reason why he and his brother are the last ones alive from the original crew is because they're the ones still truly in charge. the turn of events for leo to adopt three strangers from different corners of the world as family all of a sudden had them questioning his motives.

the ship manages to arrive in virginia for a break, which is where the four crew turtles decided to watch big mama's travelling circus. piel and hueso got to stocking up for food and supplies in the market. so the brothers saw the leading act in said circus was a lean middle aged man, going by the stage name lou jitsu. donnie recognised he was a martial artist by the way he moved, fighting all the big burly men ringleader mama pitted against him, but mikey could tell by the strained look on his face that he was tired.

lou jitsu was exhausted, he had been fighting for big mama's circus for over a decade. he was once part of a prominent family in japan until he ran away against his grandfather's wishes, travelling the new world as an actor until he ran out of money. he managed to stay with a witch doctor in louisiana, baron draxum. the yokai bewitched lou jitsu body and soul, granting him more money and fame... but at a price. lou jitsu started acting and travelling again, even going back to japan. unfortunately, four of his lovers bore children draxum cursed to be half-turtle half-man. lou had some idea, because he occasionally received letters from them believing them to be fans who wanted to bear his children.

raphael's mother in south america raised him despite ridicule from the townsfolk. leonardo's mother abandoned him and sr. hueso was the one who took him in and he and capitán piel raised leo as their own little brother. donatello's mother tried hard to keep him hidden until samurai raided her home and took him away to be raised by a high status family instead. they thought of him as their good fortune. michelangelo's mother had to sell him to some farmhands, so he grew up tending to livestock and keeping them together in one spot.

once lou jitsu spots the four turtles in the audience he experienced a transformation like no other, the dormant part of the curse draxum put on him taking place. he quit on big mama, leaving the circus to join the turtles.

"surely... you can give me a chance to be in your lives... ?"

the turtles hesitantly agreed and the group went back to the boat to escape big mama, leaving the harbour to get to new york. the crew arrives and they meet casey and april in the harbour, mikey and raph glad to see their horses again.

the ragtag group of raph the spanish revolutionary, leo the pirate, donnie the former samurai, mikey the cowboy, and lou jitsu the ex circus performer settle in the greatest city in the world– shenanigans ensue !

Salem: That's right, Team RWBY! In a few moments, my Dark Cannon will fire, spreading my Grimm all over Remnant! And I don't even have a target in mind! I'm just gonna shoot wildly and see where it hits!

Ruby: Wait! No, let's talk about this!

Salem: Sure, what's up?

Ruby: Wait, really?

Salem: No, you idiots! Why would you think that would work?

Jaune: (Suddenly next to Salem) Well, maybe you should have heard her out, Salem!

Salem: Ah, if it isn't... Uh...

Jaune: Jaune.

Salem: Jaune! I could have figured it out. Well, I'm sorry to say, my armored foe, that my Cannon is ready to fire!

Jaune: Well, don't get too confident, Salem, because there's something I can still do!

Salem: Oh, and what might that b- Is that a sword? OGH! AGH! UGH! OOF! ACK! AGH! OOGH! OH! ARGH! UGH!

Jaune: ...Well, that just happened.

RWBY: (Cries of mixed repulsion)

Jaune: Sorry, I, uh... I thought a quip might lighten the mood.

Weiss: I think we're talking about how you hacked Salem to death with a fucking sword!

Jaune: What? No, no, no! She's still alive, see?

Salem: (Weakly lifts arm, Hand broken) My mouth... tastes like copper...

Jaune: SHE'S GOT A GUN!

Ruby: WAITWAITWAIT!

Salem: OGH! OOGH! OH! ARGH! UGH!

Blake: I want to stop him, but I don't want to get flagged.

Jaune: Hoo! Got 'er! But, uh... I don't think that was a gun. I think her bones were just protruding out of her skin and it looked like a gun.

Yang: I told you, guys! I told you that we can't trust an emotionally disturbed man with a medieval weapon!

Jaune: Now, now, Yang. This is no time for jokes!

Yang: What?!

Jaune: Look, we beat Salem! We win! Go us!

BOOM!

Jaune: ...Did you guys hear something?

Blake: Yes! That's the cannon that we came here to destroy! That's the whole reason we're here!

Jaune: Oh, yeah...

Ruby: How did you not notice the fucking Quantum Theory cannon behind you?!

Jaune: Sorry, sorry... When I get into this hero business, I kind of get a tunnel vision and I sort of lose my grip on humanity for a second... Just kind of go into, like, a primal, feral state. You know how it is.

Yang: NO! None of us know what you're talking about!

Jaune: No, you know, it's like, uh... Like the... I-It's a meme. You have to really see it to get it...

BOOM!

RWBY: TURN IT OFF!

Jaune: Right, right, right! I'll get right on that and... She's right behind me, isn't she?

Cinder: Ah, so you believe you've won simply because you've bested Salem-

Ruby: CINDER! Cinder, listen to me! Just- Just get out of here! Just leave, alright? You don't want any part of this!

Jaune: Not so fast, Cinder! Why don't you get a taste of this?! (Stabs for her eye, GIF not found) Huh... Dodging... My one, true weakness.

Cinder: D-Did you just try to stab my eye?! And what is this black, goopy stuff?

Ruby: Jaune, why don't you take this as a sign, okay? You don't need to solve all your problems with a sword! Or a lethal strike! There's other ways to solve this!

Jaune: Other, non-lethal ways?

Weiss: Yes! You fucking psychopath!

Jaune: Non-lethal... Psychopath...

Jaune: Wow, guys. I never really thought of that. Boy, do I have mud on my face. And blood!

Ruby: That's great, Jaune! So just put down the sword and-

Jaune: (Whips out a pistol)

Ruby: JAUNE, NO!

Yang: WHY ARE WE ALL JUST STANDING HERE?!

WIP Wednesday post RotS AU

In this spirit of the “Start new wips whenever you want. Without guilt.” meme I shared earlier, I bring you the only thing my brain would let me write about. Working title: Locked Together in Hatred

Matthew Stover I am so, so sorry.

There would be a time for sadness. A time to remember. A time to grieve.

Now, while the pain still burned as hot as the molten river beside them, was not the time.

The time for mourning would come later - if there was a later. It was either a blessing from the Force itself or a product of the deep, soul crushing exhaustion that threatened to overtake Obi-Wan now that the battle was over that the thoughts of how bleak that future might be stayed away for the moment. They were waiting just beyond the edges of his consciousness to be examined when there was time.

A ripple in the Force warned Obi-Wan what he already knew. They were out of time. And yet he let a precious second pass as he paused to look down at what was left of Anakin where he lay, writhing on the bank of the lava.

The yellow eyes that burned out of the face contorted with hate were not the ones that had met his across battlefields and spoken volumes without saying a word. The angry howling didn’t belong to the voice he knew as well as his own.

If there was any part of the boy he raised, his brother in arms, the man he had trusted above all others, left in the limbless husk that thrashed in anger and in pain, it would be a mercy to kill him. To put him out of this misery. To save him from becoming the evil he had sworn to destroy.

“I loved you Anakin!” he yelled, not even beginning to sum up the depth of his betrayal, his voice breaking.

“I HATE YOU!” Anakin bellowed as though if he tried hard enough his words might physically wound him as much as the tortured sound tore at his heart. He glared up at Obi-Wan in anger even as his robes began to smolder, his hair crisped, and his yell twisted to one of agony.

For a horrible moment Obi-Wan turned away. To leave and let the will of the Force decide the fate of the man who used to be Anakin Skywalker. To let the monster burn from his rage within as he was consumed by the flames without. That in his last moments he might suffer as all those he’d betrayed had suffered.

Hate leads to suffering.

Obi-Wan turned back. Even though the Order had been destroyed and the Temple razed, even if he was the only one left, he was still a Jedi. He wouldn’t let Anakin take that from him too.

Honor over hate.

He wouldn’t strike down a helpless unarmed man. No matter what he had done.

The wind that ruffled his hair urged him on. Time was truly up. Without wasting any more of it he slid down the embankment and heaved the mangled torso of Anakin Skywalker over his shoulder and trudged up the slope.

Too tired to even attempt lifting him with the Force, Obi-Wan focused on placing one foot in front of the other and not letting go of the thrashing howling weight in his arms.

“You can’t save me Obi-Wan! I don’t need to be saved!” His mechano arm, trailing tatters of the glove that had burned off as he clawed into the heat of the sand, beat uselessly against Obi-Wan’s back.

They were met on the ramp by C3P0, the always flustered golden droid worked up to a frantic state. “Master Kenobi! Please hurry!”

Obi-Wan waisted no time. “Where’s Padme?”

The string of curses coming from over Obi-Wan’s shoulder fell silent, the movement in his arms stopped at once.

“Already inside, sir, but she is badly hurt.”

Obi-Wan ran up the ramp and straight to the cockpit. He laid Anakin on the floor for the moment and fired up the engines, taking off just as he could see a sleek shape cut through the atmosphere.

“It’s not just you who needs to be saved from the consequences of your anger,” Obi-Wan finally acknowledged the eyes staring mutely up at him in horror.

And if I have absolutely no self-control and post a portion of my H-money AU fic, what then, huh?

(Wanna know how many pages this wip has so far? 84)

The event had been scheduled long before the photos dropped. There was no way for anyone to predict it, really.

No way for anyone to know that the night before the Woodstone’s fancy schmancy wedding anniversary party, (which was really more of an excuse to invite business partners and the press and paparazzi over to hopefully inflate stock prices and make connections), pictures of Elias Woodstone with his twenty-something year old redheaded mistress would hit every single tabloid on the earth.

No way to predict how the photos would go viral in an instant due to the proximity of the couple’s anniversary.

No way to predict how the internet would react to the fact that his mistress bore a striking resemblance to his wife.

No way for anyone to know that the butt of almost every joke would become Hetty herself.

No way to predict that the man who committed the offense would be almost completely forgotten as the world picked which woman’s side they were on.

No way to predict the clusterfuck the next 48 hours would become.

Trevor didn’t even find out about the affair from the pictures themselves, but rather from a crude meme comparing every feature the women had in common and where they differed. The picture was captioned with a wild conspiracy about how Elias Woodstone was apparently planning to have a baby with this mistress in order to trick the world into thinking Hetty had somehow had a miracle baby at her age and Trevor closed the app before he finished reading.

Now he was standing at the couple’s anniversary party, all because he’d been the bastard lucky enough to land their company as his client by treating Hetty Woodstone like a human being. He’d gotten to bring a handful of his colleagues so he didn’t feel so out of his depth, but when he saw her standing at the corner of the bar looking like she was trying to shrink her entire body down to the size of an ant, he felt like he was drowning.

He couldn’t even appreciate the way her modest/not modest dress looked hugging her figure. The teal fabric clinging to her arms and her sternum before flaring out loose around her waist, a short slit cut up to her knee revealing her pale calf and the matching teal heels on her feet. Gone was the ice queen from that first party glaring everyone down. Gone was the business woman that had his entire office honed to her presence. Now, she finally looked like what the world said she was, a jilted middle-aged wife whose husband was running around town with a woman less than half her age.

It was the most jarring picture Trevor had ever seen.

He really wanted that confident, sharp-tongued ice queen back, and as he slid up to lean against the bar right next to her, he really hoped he would be enough to snap her out of it.

"You haven't called me,” he kept voice playful and light, flirty and teasing even throwing in a toothy smirk with the hope she’d sneer at him.

Instead, she surprised him more than ever before, turning towards him and pressing her body into his, letting him feel the length of her form and every curve of her figure pushed up against his own. Her hand slipping up his chest slow and warm before her fingers curled into his tie absently playing with it while her other hand came up to press against his pec underneath his suit jacket, her touch feeling like a hot iron brand even through the fabric of his shirt. Her leg slipped in between his, and as she finally lifted her head to look into his eyes, he once again felt like he was meeting a completely different woman. The way she slouched against him, putting her below him height wise for the first time ever, her blue eyes gazing up under her mascara painted lashes like she was some coquettish minx. The sharp bite usually housed in her icy blues replaced with an almost vulnerable flirty softness that felt so wrong directed Trevor’s way. Her once again dark red painted lips parted and pouting slightly as she spoke.

"Buy me a drink," her deep voice downright seductive as it purred past her lips and dripped down his spine.

For a moment, Trevor felt like he was in some seedy dive bar being hit on by a girl already two drinks in and ready to take him home. Then he looked up and made eye contact with a bartender standing underneath a banner celebrating the couple’s wedding anniversary, and he remembered exactly where he was. Feeling like someone dumped a bucket of cold water on his head, Trevor pointed to the empty cocktail glass stained with Hetty’s lipstick and the bartender instantly picked up the cue grabbing the glass and moving to make her another one.

"Did you see the pictures?" Hetty’s voice pulled him back to her face, which was still very distractingly close to his own.

Her hands were on his chest, feeling him up under his suit jacket while her body was pressed close enough to let him feel her entire form as much as he possibly could while they were still fully clothed. Her leg in between his softly rubbing her calf against his in small enough movements that no one would notice but enough for him to feel, an absolutely maddening tease that was taking all of his self control not to wrap his own arms around her waist and pull her even closer, party be damned.

"Pictures?" He tried for innocent and oblivious, but he was focused on suppressing some more pressing urges that putting on a convincing front was not really possible at the moment. It was obvious he knew exactly what pictures she was talking about, and judging by the snort of laughter, she let out she knew it too.

"Oh please,” one of her hands slipped up his chest over his neck to land on his chin, her index finger pressing against his plump bottom lip, her eyes locked on her own finger as she spoke. “You’re many things, Mr. Lefkowitz, but you’re not dumb. So don’t play it."

Her hand dropped back to his chest, and her gaze snapped back to his eyes, the sharp icy bite back in its regular home in her irises.

"Ah.” He cringed and bit back the smile he almost let through at the sight of her familiar piercing gaze. Feeling relieved to know she was still in there somewhere. “Yeah, I did."

At his admission, she laughed, breathy and soft, self-deprecating and sardonic like it was the only thing she could do in response to the situation.

"She's younger than our daughter." Hetty’s voice soft and barely above a whisper only for him to hear, saying it like a joke and even letting out a manic little giggle after the fact as if the whole world would find it funny.

Trevor could only wince and clench his fists tighter so he wouldn’t be tempted to grab her and drag her out of this place. Sweep her away from this stupid party meant to celebrate a sham marriage she was trapped in like a business contract. Get her as far away from the world, comparing her to a woman who unfortunately happened to share the same hair color as her. Take her somewhere she could be that whip smart, sharp witted woman from his office just a few days ago. But he couldn’t do any of that, instead he could only look into her eyes as the bartender placed the freshly made cocktail down on the bar in front of her and Hetty tore her gaze from Trevor’s to look at it for just a moment before she looked back up at him with another self-deprecating laugh rolling her eyes as she peeled herself off of him and grabbed her cocktail.

"Whatever," she said as she lifted the drink to her lips, turning and walking away from Trevor like nothing had even happened.

Which absolutely could not happen.

"Hey, come here." Trevor gripped her wrist and pulled her towards the first place he could think of.

The dance floor.

Once again, pulling her body flush against his, wrapping one arm around her waist as he delicately placed her free hand on his shoulder before dropping that arm to join the other around her waist. She snorted as she took a sip from her drink, instantly beginning to sway with the music and wrap her arm more securely around his shoulders.

"Is your answer to me walking away from you, always going to be to take me to the dance floor?" When she looked at him with a playful smirk and a snarky edge to her gaze, Trevor should have known not to let his guard down.

"It's the only way I can get you to talk to me for more than thirty seconds." He easily joked back, aiming for casual and getting thrown a curve ball immediately after.

"Do you think she's prettier than me?" Hetty asked it like she was asking what he thought about the weather.

"No." His response was instantaneous.

"Liar." So was hers.

He huffed short and annoyed. She merely raised her eyebrow and lifted her drink to her lips, taking a sip while keeping eye contact the entire time. He took a deep breath, knowing a challenge when he saw one.

"I think she's pretty. I don't think she's prettier than you.” He spoke carefully, knowing the woman he was dealing with. Any loophole, any gap, any mistake would be exploited. It’s what he would do. Which is why he should have stopped talking then. “If I'm being honest I kinda think she looks like you,” he didn’t know why he was deciding to remind her of how the world was comparing the two of them, but she was the one who wanted honesty. “But younger."

The tip of Hetty’s tongue darted out, delicately lapping away the drops of her drink stuck to her bottom lip as she lowered her glass. Her sharp gaze pierced into his, and he finally felt like he was dealing with the Hetty he was used to.

"Which makes her prettier." Her words spit from her lips like it was just a bitter fact of life.

"No.” Trevor’s arms tightened around her waist, knowing exactly what the content of Hetty’s phone would look like if he were to check it right now. “No, it doesn't." He did his best to make his voice as even and sure as possible, putting everything he could into it, trying to make her understand that he meant every single word he was saying. Desperate for her to believe him and only him, not any of the other voices that had no doubt been screaming at her since yesterday. Looking directly into her eyes, meeting her challenge head on, showing her he was completely unwilling to back down on this point. Knowing that the only way to get a woman like her to back down was to show her how much you weren’t going to either.

He must have done something right because she narrowed her eyes at him for a long moment, reading him like the book he was trying to be right then. Her brows pinched slightly and her eyes softened for just a second and Trevor latched onto it, really hoping that softness meant that he’d been able to make her feel beautiful when the rest of the world made her feel past her prime.

Then she was rolling her eyes and snorting out another laugh, but this time at his expense rather than her own, and Trevor counted it as a win.

"You're just saying that because you had a friend with a hot mom, and it gave you a complex."

Trevor couldn’t help but laugh, happy to bring back their usual May/December banter if only for the purely selfish reason that he really liked the back and forth.

"You keep calling yourself old,” he said with a grin. “You're really not that old."

"Compared to you?" She shot back.

"Hey, I'm not that young,” he said, holding up a hand placatingly. “I've just got a young face." He brought the same hand to his jaw, running it along the underside of his chin to show off his grin.

"Mm,” she hummed, pursing her lips at him. “And how many women at the retirement home actually believe that?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and Trevor could swear he saw the beginning of a smile twitch at the corner of her lips.

He shrugged as he wrapped his arm back around her waist, “About as many who would believe you could actually be a resident there.”

“I’m rich, I have a stylist to color in my grays.” She curled a finger into one of her loose curls before letting it bounce back into place.

"Come on,” Trevor pulled her in closer, feeling like he should punch himself when he celebrated the fact that she pushed against him rather than leaning into him the way she did before at the bar. “What's to stop us from going and getting a hotel room right now?" He put as much cheese and college frat party seduction into his voice and as much boyish charm into his smile as possible, excited for the rejection headed his way like a goddamn maniac.

Hetty narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her palm against the center of his chest and taking a step forward, instantly switching the dynamic. Her spine straight and his bent slightly back as she leaned in, their faces only a few inches apart, ready to take him to task.

"My husband watching us from the other side of the room,” she whispered, barely audible over the music and din of the party. “The group of photographers on the opposite wall." her eyes darted quickly to where the photographers were stationed as she leaned in even closer, their noses almost touching. "And the fact…” her deep voice rumbled low and pointed every syllable of her speech enunciated and pointed like it was meant to be a physical blow landing on his skin. “That you're a child."

She pushed against his chest hard enough to push herself out of his arms, the man stumbling back as she easily took a couple of graceful steps backward. The redhead lingered for only a moment to look him up and down disparagingly before meeting his eyes. She clicked her tongue at him dismissively before turning on her heel.

He wasn’t proud of the fact that his eyes immediately dropped to her ass when she turned around, but he also wasn’t proud of the fact that his dick had twitched in his pants when she’d called him a child like that, so Trevor figured he’d have to get used to not having any pride around Hetty Woodstone.

Somehow he found his way back to the group of coworkers he’d brought with him to the party and they were all on him in an instant, clearly having watched the entirety of his exchange with the Woodstone wife. As they all leered at him, Trevor wondered why he thought bringing them would ever bring him comfort instead of grief.

"Lefkowitz,” Ari clapped him on the shoulder, saying his name the way college roommates did after you got some. “Smart move going for the wife."

"Oh yeah, and definitely not just business wise,” Chet wiggled his eyebrows.

“Totally! Woman's a hot fiery cougar too," Pinkus interjected.

"Tell me you're getting some of that." David raised an eyebrow at Trevor.

"Especially after those pics leaked.” Ari spoke first. “You just know she's looking to get back at her husband by getting under somebody else."

The others laughed and hyped up Ari’s comment while Trevor stood there feeling like Sas the first time he introduced him to his frat brothers.

"For sure.” Chet said. “You just know the ‘he’s banging someone younger than me’ sex is off the charts." They all nodded and made noises of assent before they all turned their focus on Trevor at the same time almost on a dime.

"So?" David raised an eyebrow at him and smirked, sleazy and full of slime.

And as they all stared at him with similar expressions waiting for his response, Trevor’s gaze drifted over his colleagues’ shoulders to watch as a reporter or a pap or just someone with a recorder and a camera approached Hetty clearly asking a question about the photographs. He watched as in response, Hetty threw her head back and downed the rest of her cocktail before she looked over her shoulder at her impromptu interviewer. Trevor read her lips as they moved, clearly saying, “no comment” before she stalked away somehow having left her empty glass behind in the random reporter’s hand without them or Trevor even seeing her do it. And as his gaze trailed back to his coworkers all waiting for his cocky response about totally banging the Woodstone matriarch, he felt like he might throw up on all of their dumb sleazy faces.

Yeah, Trevor was starting to get what Hetty meant about him being a child.

He plastered what he hoped was an exact copy of their sleazy grins on his face and forced himself to sound overly confident and arrogant in his own abilities.

"Oh, you guys know T-Money is getting in there."

They all clapped him on the back and made noises celebrating his sleazebag remark and Trevor couldn’t help it as his gaze drifted once again to the vibrant flash of red and teal standing by the bar with a new cocktail in her hand and multiple cameras shoved into her face. She sipped the drink leaning against her elbows on the bar like she was dissociating to some tropical island far, far away from all of the people nagging her with questions she refused to answer. He couldn’t find it in himself to envy her life in that moment no matter how much he had in the past.

And as his coworkers continued on like they couldn't even see the crisis written all over the woman’s face, talking about all of the things they would be doing to her if they were in his position instead, Trevor came to the realization that he was probably the first person in a long time she’d let see even a shred of who she actually was.

*INBOX CLEARING. ✉️ ➤   @oathofpromises / JULI KIDMAN.  [ ; ]  ‘you don’t think ,  you just DO .‘spider wick meme to Sebastian from Juli Kidman

So much for small talk. Not the most friendly or information heavy response given to explain her collected composure after that nightmare of a case, but Sebastian finds himself holding his tongue from prodding for more of an answer, settling instead on a slow nod as he hums. The sound of shots being fired down the lane ahead, landing their mark right into the paper targets set up for the woman to practice her accuracy on shake beneath the force. He's all too used to the sound, the space in general to be bothered as much, staying safe behind the designated line as he keeps his arms carefully crossed atop his chest. He turns his attention back to her, head tilting lightly to the side in an owl-like manner, mind lazily whirling in possibilities as he waits for her to finish.

In the mean time he takes in her stance, the way she holds her handgun & how she braces for the recoil of each bursting shot - she's done this before. She's got the experience down in a way most seasoned cops rarely ever have. & for everything he'd dug up on the newest rookie & her past, everything checked out.

Lined up neatly enough, but call it his detective's hunch, but something just refused to settle in the pit of his gut. It didn't feel right. Felt off, like he was missing something big or the facts weren't all there to justify her just maybe being a prodigy with genuine skill acting as the new blood on the force.

Maybe it's how . . . cold she seems? It's not offputting, given how respectful she is, distance aside, but once again, he struggles to find the right words to describe why he's still so on edge with her, even with her being under his wing, shadowing him until she better learns the ropes. His gut feeling hasn't failed him yet, so he tamps down on those feelings, but not enough to smother & choke them out completely. He'd just keep an eye on the kid until he found something to either fully dismiss his worries or justify them.

When she finishes, protective gear being lifted as striking pale eyes dart over to silently ask him what he's still doing here, he offers a cheeky wave, more of a two fingered salute as he steps in to bridge the distance some.

"So you're telling me you've got one hell of an eye for accuracy here, how to react in a tough situation, life or death like that - all because you don't think. You just do?" Sounded like bullshit. Arching a brow, he shakes his head again. "In this line of work for as long as I've worked here, that kind of reaction - the instinctive kind - you only get that through experience. Not cause of some . . . believe in yourself, follow your instincts bullshit."

I'M FINALLY HOME

This was the most absurd trip for a wedding I've ever taken, but it was worth it in the end to see one of my best friend's beaming face as they turned to face the guests during such an important moment in their life. I'm not usually one for tradition, but I'll be damned if I can't keep a promise, lol.

[Needlessly verbose description of this completely fucked journey below.]

To paint a picture of how petulently fate tried to keep me and my sister from making the trip, I was supposed to have left on a train at ~10:00am Saturday morning to arrive at the destination ~6:00, an hour or so before the welcome reception. My train was canceled due to "wiring issues."

I contacted my sister, who already had a flight booked out of Philadelphia, but her arrival would be somewhere around 8:00pm, at the tail end of the ceremony. We caught a bus to the airport at 3:30pm, then waited at our gate until the time of our departure, ~6:30pm. Mind you, this was only supposed to be about a half-hour flight.

A storm rolled in. Our flight was delayed another hour.

The storm raged on. Every lightning strike necessitated another 15-minute wait before anyone could board. It was evident we weren't making it to the welcome reception, lol.

At around 8:00pm, the storm had subsided. But, it turns out the plane at the gate wasn't ours. More precisely, it was intended for another destination entirely, and because it couldn't lift off, our plane had no way of entering the gate to let us board. When it finally departed, we were left waiting in uncertainty whether another would arrive, as the next plane was flying in from Canada. There was talk that the flight might be delayed to the following morning—the day of the ceremony.

No sooner than 10:30pm, a plane arrived to carry us the 30 minutes to our destination. Mind you, I'd never flown before, so my anxiety was through the roof as it was, and the delay certainly didn't help, lol. All I could think during the flight was, "My rotten luck is what will bring this plane crashing down." It was a relatively turbulent flight through the clouds. Seeing nothing but reflected flashes of the plane's lights off the rushing clouds as I sat in utter darkness was a hell of a first flight experience.

Soon enough, we made touchdown, but keeping with the trend of tardiness that plagued our trip, we were stuck on the plane a few more minutes, as the airport receiving us was shortstaffed and we had no marshalls to guide the plane to the gate, lmao. The clock struck midnight as we made our way to the baggage carousel.

An hour and a half later, we barely managed to nab an Uber to our hotel. We checked in at almost 2:00am. My sister hadn't slept in over 24 hours.

The day of the ceremony was mercifully sunny, despite calls for rain. Naturally, we had trouble finding an Uber to our destination, and upon arrival at a sprawling, labyrinthine nature park, we realized we had no idea where to locate the blue cedar the ceremony was to be held under. We were offered vague directions, and hastened on our way at 12:54pm.

The ceremony would begin at 1:00.

In shorter a time than expected (the guide told us it was a 10-minute walk), we scrambled up a hill and spotted the ceremony gathering. Everyone was already standing. We made our way over quickly and quietly, and thankfully there were two empty seats on the side closest to our approach, which we took as soon as my friend and their bride reached the cedar tree. Their back was to us, so they hadn't noticed how deftly we had slipped into the crowd.

It was such a cute ceremony! Very gay, 10/10. Don't tell anyone, but the three of us met on Tumblr in 2010 over EarthBound memes. We'd visited each other a few times before, even if we only sparingly get a chance to communicate these days. To see them married in person after all these years was so fucking wholesome. Sorry, it all made me regress into 2010-speak. :')

It wasn't until toward the end of the ceremony that the brides faced the guests of honor. The smile they flashed upon seeing us there, half-dead from our successful misadventure made all my stress from the journey completely melt away. Later, at the reception, they told us that seeing us there had made their entire ceremony.

I still need to message them now that we've made it home. I'm just glad we could be there to witness it all, even if I am dead-tired and have work tomorrow morning.

Sorry if this was sappy of me, lol. I try to avoid blurting slam-poetry posts, but a wedding kind of deserves one.

battle quote meme lets go

Send ☭ x for a vs. battle quote to your muse

Battle Intro: Robin looks unsure as he turns his head down to Yone's blades before he finally sighs, pulling the shiv from his satchel and twirling it in his hand, "Yone... I thought you knew better than this, didn't you say yourself that before swords and bloodshed, words can save a soul?" Victory: After piercing Yone with the hidden blade within his sleeve, the mage easily released himself from the samurai's arms, feeling the katana that had stabbed him slide from his stomach. Robin twisted the knife once more and knelt down to Yone's convulsing form as the infection spread, "I'll tell Lillia that you defeated your azakana and went onto the spirit realm, friend. I won't let you suffer much longer, I promise." Half HP: The mage holds his side with a grunt, his wide eyes glowering at Yone as he taps his own earring, his voice low as his tone drips with venom, "I-I guess I was wrong about us being kindred spirits, if this is really what you want..." Low HP: "AGH!" Robin coughs up blood as he's pierced again, falling to his knee as he tries to heal himself, finding it difficult, "You are not the same man I made friends with, did the azakana take over...?" Defeat: "I won't forget this, windchaser." Robin hisses out as Bel finally appears to separate the two, the demon gathering the mage, "They were right to fear you...to attack someone who cherishes you... you must no longer be a human." Death: Robin cannot die twice. Assist: "Rushing in without a plan, Yone? Come now, you're better than that!" Robin chirps happily as he rushes to his side to heal him, tome in hand. Taunt: "Chasing another pointless fight, your brother would be proud to know you're the same as that day." Reacting to Taunt: [ Yone Taunt -> Robin ] "Azakana once named, can be bound." [ Robin -> Yone Taunt ] "Without them, you are meaningless." Flee: Robin is swift as he backs away, lifting his arm up for Bel to wrap its talon's around to take him, "There's something more important than this that requires my attention, use this time to clear your head." Reacting to Flee: The mage prepares for another strike before he sees Yone begin to turn tail and rush away, Robin's shoulders relax as he lowers his tome, "Seems your senses have finally returned." Tie: The edge of Robin's blade glides across Yone's neck as he feels the prick of a katana under his chin, both pausing as Robin speaks. "Think about your next move very carefully, Yone, what will you gain from this?" Perfect Victory: Upon blowing a puff of spors into Yone's face and watching as he falls, Robin closes his tome with a harsh expression, letting his friend convulse for a moment. "You forced my hand, Yone, remember this for the next time you think to bring violence to me." He kneels down and begins to heal him, "Why would you make me do this?" Low HP Victory: Robin wipes the blood from his knife across his glove, flicking it onto a nearby rock as his legs continue to tremble and his breath becomes heavy. "Did that bring you solace? Do you feel stronger?" Finishing Move: Upon seeing an opening, Robin rushes forward in order to draw Yone into a carefully laid trap, a choking miasma emitting from the nature below him giving Robin just enough time to get a singular strike in. The knife digs into Yone's shoulder, venom and dark magic flooding in to fight with the azakana, corrupting and decaying Yone's arm, growing towards his throat. Robin rips the blade out and delivers a firm kick to Yone's chest, before slamming his heel into Yone's neck to hold him down. "This time, I'll make sure you don't come back, one last gift of mercy."

@skyhaunter sent "you'll never leave me, right?" from the Morbid curiosity meme | Response based on this beautiful fan art

She is floating. Weightless. Fully at peace for the first time in years. There's a dull sort of ache throbbing in the back of her mind, but it has, mercifully, left her drifting in a state of semi-consciousness for now. As the bacta tank she is floating in works to heal her body, her mind glides backwards, into the part of her past that is full of happy memories.

"You'll never leave me, right?" Anakin asks her. They are curled up together in their bed on Coruscant after he'd returned home from a particularly brutal campaign. The longer the war raged on, the worse of a toll it took on everyone, but especially those who were sent to the front lines again and again. And again. She can see the fear flickering in the depths of his beautiful blue eyes as he voices the question in trembling tones.

"Never. You're stuck with me," she teases, then adds more seriously, lifting a hand to stroke the back of her fingertips down his face: "I will always love you, Ani. No matter where circumstances send you in the galaxy, there will never be a day when I don't wish to be by your side."

And as the memory fades, her mind suddenly leaps forward to the more recent past, skipping like stones across the last few weeks: Vader capturing her, transporting her to his fortress on Mustafar. Her realization of his true identity. Vader Anakin? informing her she could have anything she wished, except to leave. Her growing desperation and worry for her friends and contacts in the fledgling rebellion. The fleeting joy of freedom when she manages to sneak out of the fortress, headed for the landing pad to attempt to steal a ship and fly... anywhere but here.

The memories grow more troubling as her mind drifts closer to consciousness: the unexpected pain of blaster fire striking her in her thigh, her shoulder, then her side as she tumbles face first to the ground. The unhinged shout of rage as a figure in black vaults past her and engages the quartet of bounty hunters in furious battle. The unbearable agony erupting along her entire backside as a flume of lava sprays up from below and pelts her back with searing flecks of magma. And then... nothing. Until-

Her eyes fly open, staring straight out from the bacta tank in which she is floating, and into the same blue eyes that she has known and loved, that she has desperately missed seeing. His gloved hand is pressed against the glass. She has no idea how long he has been standing there, but she recognizes now that he must have been the figure in black. Something about the expression in his eyes twists at her heart as she remembers his question to her all those years ago: you'll never leave me, right? Despite what she had promised him, she had. And he had come to her rescue even while she was in the midst of running away from him. She cannot speak with the respirator in her mouth. All she can do is lift her hand and press it against the glass to meet his in a silent gesture of thanks and apology.

@ebonyforged​ sent “REFLECT - the lobotomy” | send REFLECT for me to explain a traumatic event in my muses’s past and talk about their perception of events,  which parts have stayed with them longest and how it affects them now. (  sender can request specific scenes/backstory ) MEME | ALWAYS OPEN

ahhhh I knew this one was gonna come first :D

Anyway, here it goes. Trigger heavy so behind a cut

The explanation: I’ve gone into great detail about this scene, Friedkin and his cult on my new possession lore page.  Actual canon is much shorter and straight forward: Collingwood’s head physician, Arthur Friedkin (inspired by the real dude Walter J. Freeman without a doubt) was a big fan of the lobotomy, a real procedure where connections in the brain's frontal cortex are severed/scrambled with medical tools, the most famous being the orbitoclast that looks like an icepick.That gets shoved into your brain with the help of a mallet. Looks pretty barbaric. In canon, it was stated that Friedkin lobotomized at least 140 patients in Collingwood, Lance having been one of them. It was really gruesome and not actually shown on camera, we only see the aftermath, though there is behind the scenes footage and some of it hidden away at the beginning of the movie that actually shows the whole deal.

They cut a lot of footage from the first movie and released bits and pieces of it in November last year, where there has been a lot more information provided, even an MRI scan of his brain.

His perception of events: He obviously felt utterly utterly terrified and helpless. I tweaked canon a little bit and made it happen later in his timeline than what was in the finished movie where it pretty much happened right from the off, the second Friedkin got his hands on him. But if I remember correctly from all the info I had on the alternate cut of the film back in the day, the ending used to  be different anyway. I think it was that Lance actually woke up in the 1940s after he fell asleep in the tunnels where he lost Sasha.

Anyway, as stated on my new lore page (still gotta update the bio a bit), I headcanon that by the time Lance actually gets lobotomized, he’s spent a couple of months inside Collingwood in the 40s, and most importantly, he befriended the demons that attached themselves to the building all thanks to Friedkin’s freaky rituals. Only that he didn’t know they were demons at the time, he thought it to be a normal ghost of a murdered patient who wanted to help him. He was promised a way out by them if they worked together (little tweak to the canon plotline, something similiar happened in GE2 but I’m placing it in the 40s plotline). So he was utterly shocked and felt incredibly betrayed when he still ended up in Friedkin’s basement and on that operating table, and the demon didn’t help him or stop it at all.

He obviously had a severe panic attack and feared for his life, since he was strapped to the operating table with leather straps and couldn’t even move/lift a finger to defend himself. I also headcanon that deep down, he was in absolute denial and couldn’t even imagine that the strike of that hammer would actually happen, could actually happen since everything was such a paradox. He was in the 1940s, a time before he was even born, he knew Friedkin was dead in his timeline already and considered him a ghost, not a real, physical person, so nothing could truly physically hurt him. He even said it in canon “it’s not possible. I’ve lost my fucking mind.”

Although he was attacked once in the hallways by that tongue demon while still sorta in his timeline, that thing actually just vanished in the end and throughout the entire first movie, Lance was actually never physically hurt by anything inside that hospital. Sure enough, it had him starving and so forth, but nothing came at him wielding a knife or clawing his eyes out or whatever. Throughout his canon, he only saw it happen to the others (Sasha with scratches on her back, TC in the bathtub), but not to himself.

He thought that he was somewhat special and different (since he was the only survivor and Friedkin, the demons and everyone else in the 40s kept telling him he was the chosen one 24/7), and that nothing could actually seriously hurt him or kill him.

So he was utterly shocked and horrified when it actually did happen and Friedkin stabbed him in the brain. So yeah, the general perception of events is helplessness, panic, betrayal and outright insanity.

Which parts of it have stayed with him the longest

Obviously the pain of the orbitoclast getting hammered into his brain, hearing his own skull crack and his own screams (actually canon), but also something even worse than all that: being strapped to the table with no means of fighting back, like being at the total mercy of a man he knows to be utterly depraved and cold.

How it affects him now

He has severe problems with physical touch and intimacy. Anything involving him getting touched without his permission or getting physically trapped in any way, even just in a hug, sends him straight into a panic attack. He also has a severe fear of needles/knives/anything sharp, the smell of disinfectant/ hospital smell leaves him on the brink of having to throw up.

He also despises doctors, nurses, medication/drugs, anything even remotely connected to the medical sector after it. It doesn’t matter how capable, friendly, competent and empathetic/helpful a doctor might be. He doesn’t trust any of them. He refuses to see any doctor or go through a simple health check. Even if it’s not a doctor who offers it. If he got severely injured in any way, he’d rather fix it with a hot iron/ wooden plank or outright bleed to death before he ever setting foot in another hospital or got any medical professional involved.

Especially in the beginning/soon after getting out, he’ll have his moments where he’ll freeze up and flash back to it. He won’t say or do anything on the outside, but it’ll leave him deadlocked and shell shocked for a while and it’ll take a lot to snap him out of it.

Other than that, he has sleep paralysis and later nightmares, even straight up night terrors about it almost every single night during the first year or two, where he always finds himself strapped to that table again and this thing stabbing him in the brain, but the difference in that dream is that unlike in reality where he soon passed out from the shock, he doesn’t pass out in his dream and just feels all of it and it keeps going on and on.

Even in canon, we saw him have nightmares about it.

— PLOTTING; SOLSTICE 2024

i'll be making my rounds in asks once the meme has dropped, so expect to see a girl or two in your inboxes, but i would like to nab a few threads. this post includes all three of my muses !!

NAVIA - you are here!

-> sheep: i have little excuse other than navia would be enamored by these funny creatures haha -> waverider racing: navia? boat? sign her up! she would be here to take the conversation VERY seriously

YAE MIKO - @spiritfaux

-> ghost stories: a group thread, maybe? miko would be very amused by human tales, and equally so by telling some of her own -> diving for treasure: now she wouldn't be doing it-- a classic "making her companion" do the heavy lifting moment haha. might be a fun time to play around with spooky sea creature encounters too

ELYSIA - @aevitium

-> sheep: similarly to navia, elysia would think they're sooo cute LOL -> mountain climbing: fun challenge, i think we could make even more fun by making the top impossible to reach. be it in a weird time-loop type of way, or maybe even that the cathedral seems to be an illusion. world is our oyster, and this place is weird haha

pings in the server, dms on any of my blogs, or via discord are all perfectly good means of contacting me! i'm also more than down to plot something off-board if inspiration strikes, just give me a nudge!

[ad_1] “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” hit film theaters on Oct. 13, and the eagerly anticipated live performance movie seems set to interrupt extra data amid big curiosity.  The Hollywood Reporter reports that the film model of Swift’s blockbuster live performance tour is ready for a world opening of $150 million to $200 million, which might be a file for a live performance movie. So fierce has been demand for the tour documentary on the massive display screen, that Taylor herself introduced Wednesday on X that one-day early entry showings can be provided within the U.S. and Canada, that means eager followers can see it on Thursday. “Look what you genuinely made me do…” she wrote, including that extra showtimes can be added Friday and all through the weekend. Along with exhibiting “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” in its personal cinemas, movie-theater chain and meme-stock darling AMC Leisure Holdings Inc. AMC, -13.64% can be the theatrical distributor for the film. AMC lately introduced that the movie had shattered the corporate’s file for single-day advance ticket gross sales, with $26 million in ticket gross sales income on Aug. 31. Shares of AMC surged final week after the corporate introduced that “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” has introduced in additional than $100 million in world advance ticket gross sales income. Associated: AMC’s stock surges as Taylor Swift concert movie passes $100 million in advance ticket sales The corporate’s inventory is up 3% Wednesday, in contrast with the S&P 500’s SPX decline of 0.03%. The arrival of “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” is nice information for the movie-theater trade, which has been coping with the impression of the Hollywood strikes, based on Benchmark analyst Mike Hickey. “The overwhelming success of the movie has come as a boon for theaters, particularly throughout occasions when Hollywood launch schedules have been affected by strikes,” he wrote in a word. “The live performance film style seems to be gaining traction once more, with Beyoncé’s movie ‘Renaissance’ additionally set to launch quickly via AMC.” Of seven analysts surveyed by FactSet, 4 have a maintain score and three have a promote score for AMC. Additionally learn: From Taylor Swift and Beyoncé to blockchain and AI: Music ETF CEO eyes the next big thing Cinemark Holdings Inc. CNK, -5.35% can be set to get a lift from “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” after clinching a cope with AMC to point out the film. Final week, Benchmark raised its Cinemark worth goal to $22 and reiterated its purchase score for the movie-theater chain. “Taylor Swift’s upcoming live performance movie is breaking presale data at Cinemark, with demand 10x greater than any previous occasion movie,” Hickey wrote. “Grownup tickets are $20 and youngsters’s $13, doubtless elevating the quarter’s common ticket worth,” he added. The movie-theater chain can be offering Private Swiftie Parties, the place followers can rent a non-public auditorium to see “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour.” Shares of Cinemark are down 0.5% Wednesday. Of 10 analysts surveyed by FactSet, six have a purchase score, three have a maintain score and one has a promote score for Cinemark. Main live performance movies are within the highlight, boosted by the high-profile excursions by Swift and Beyoncé. Earlier this month, Beyoncé’s manufacturing and administration firm Parkwood Leisure and AMC introduced that “Renaissance: A Movie by Beyoncé” will hit AMC theaters within the U.S., Canada and Mexico on Dec. 1. Cinemark and Marcus Corp.’s MCS, -1.21% Marcus Theatres are additionally showing the Beyoncé film. Associated: ‘Barbie’ in the rearview mirror: Here’s a potential red flag for a U.S. consumer spending slowdown Knowledge from Apollo World Administration indicate that movie-theater visits have slowed considerably in current weeks, after a spike pushed by summer season blockbusters “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer.” Barbara Kollmeyer contributed.

Sword Shots

I got a knight to tutor me in some basic swings and I'm writing them down here for my future reference. No pictures, sorry.

This assumes both you and your opponent hold a sword right-handed and a shield left-armed. I apologize for the bad names.

First: The Torso-Swing Tap

Swing right-to-left at your opponent's 1-2 o'clock on their shield (aim high but not at the head - you want to encourage them to lift their shield up to block, not give them a concussion). After you hit, swing down toward their hip/thigh and twist your torso left to give your second strike more force. Be careful to guard your exposed sword side! Shift your shield up over your arm and right.

Second: Crouch Swing

From guarding position, tilt your sword a little less than 90° left and strike your opponent's sword or the side of their shield closest to their sword, around their upper chest area. This exact area will depend on both your heights, but the point is to make a horizontal swing.

Repeat, targeting the same spot, then when they have gotten used to that (this usually takes two strikes) bend your knees until you have access to their leg. Throw the same shot: Because you are lower, this will naturally hit their leg. Don't change your swing, just your elevation. The drop must be sudden or they'll see it coming. Don't bend your torso - that will affect your swing and leave your back vulnerable.

Third: Twisty Wristy

Strike at your opponent's sword arm, preferably by swinging from left to right. When they block with their sword and brush your strike outward and away from their torso, rotate your wrist but don't swing your arm, bring your sword slightly towards you and pointed up, before snapping down to strike their left side. You can vary the hit area of the second stike by moving from yout shoulder. Kinda finnicky, might not work depending on how your opponent reacts.

Fourth: Sunset/"The Funny One"

Hold your shield up in front of you, slightly higher than usual, and hold your sword behind your back with your arm fully extended. The pommel ahould be facing you and the tip pointed directly away. You do not want your opponent to see your sword.

Swing up, above your head, in an arc and bring the sword down on your opponent's leg area, not bending at the elbow at any point during this motion. You want to create the illusion of aiming for a hit on their upper body (hence raising your arm straight above your head high) so they block high, then swing right on past to their unguarded leg. A little bit of a meme shot, but very funny when it works.

“  close your eyes. go back to sleep. nothing can hurt you while i’m here.  ” // Kazuha to Aether!

memes for that specific brand of ships

@tenebriism

He didn't want to fight her. The last thing that he wanted to do was fight her. His sister. As he blocked blow after blow with his own blade, however, Aether knew that the feeling wasn't mutual. Worse than that was the fact that Lumine had always been the stronger one out of the two of them.

He didn't stand a chance.

"Lumine! Lu-- please!" Staggering back as he barely managed to parry yet another strike, Aether's plea fell on deaf ears as he fought to hold his sister off. He refused to hurt her, regardless of how merciless she was, and despite the fact that she clearly intended to do the opposite.

"How many times do I have to tell you - you're too late, Aether!" The venom in his twin's voice was enough to send a shiver down his spine and to twist his stomach in knots. It was a combination of his hesitation and her savagery that allowed Lumine to knock the sword Aether's hands, the clang of metal against the ground ringing in his ears ever as she lunged forward.

He could only stare in horrified shock as his sister's blade pierced through his stomach, the taste of copper on his tongue as he coughed painfully.

"L... Lumi... ne..."

"Why... why didn't you come find me sooner, Aether?" The sword was wrenched from his gut and Aether felt himself falling, "Why didn't you come save me, brother?"

Why? Why? Why, Aether?!

Aether... Aether... "Aether!"

The sensation of falling followed him back into consciousness, and it was with a jerk that Aether woke, a breathless gasp leaving his lips. His head was swimming with the remnants of his nightmare as he pulled away from the hands that had been holding onto his shoulders, a tremble wracking through him as terror still held him in its grasp. For a few moments, all he could hear was the echo of his sister's accusation ringing in his ears, her words seeming to squeeze his heart so tightly that Aether wondered if it might give out.

"Aether... hey..." And then he heard it - heard him, rather. The soft voice was a familiar one, both patient and gentle as it called to him. Lifting his gaze, Aether was met with blurred vision, and it was only then that the traveler realized that he was crying. Even so, he knew that voice, for its owner had been alongside him for weeks, a welcomed companion on his long road. Even in the dim light cast by the remains of their campfire, Aether could make out swirls of colour. Red. White.

"K... K-Kazu... ?" He couldn't quite manage to get the entire name out, but Kazuha evidently didn't mind, if the arms that encircled Aether's body meant anything. The blonde's breath hitched as he was bundled up into the other young man's warmth, coaxed closer until Aether was curled into Kazuha's chest and his tears made the front of his companion's kimono damp. "L-Lumine, I-- I c-couldn't-- sh-she was--"

"Shhhh..." A hand stroked along the back of Aether's head as he sobbed into the samurai, and Kazuha's voice was one of the most soothing sounds he'd ever heard. "I'm here, Aether. It was a dream. Everything's alright..."

Aether didn't know how long they spent sitting there as he cried into Kazuha's chest - only that, eventually, the tears stopped and he was left exhausted. Both his eyes and his head hurt, the latter pounding as if someone were beating upon it like a drum. They both needed sleep, he knew, and it was with a mumbled apology that the traveler began to draw away, intending to give Kazuha his space so that his friend might be able to sleep for the rest of the night in peace.

Only for that embrace to tighten around him slightly, silently urging the blonde to remain in Kazuha's hold. Carefully, the samurai eased them back to the bedroll beneath them, though now he curled up around the tired traveler, whispering softly in Aether's ear.

"Close your eyes. Go back to sleep. Nothing can hurt you while I'm here." Heavy lids fell shut as the promise wrapped around him like a blanket, and Aether found that he didn't want to fight the feeling of safety that lingered between them - he knew that Kazuha meant it.

He knew, when sleep finally returned and drew him down into it's darkness, that there was someone to catch him if he fell once more.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 + dominic&aileen

@moonchlvd 

ask meme: put ‘shiplist’ in my ask and i will post 1-3 songs that remind me of our muses/ship

you are in love (taylor swift): eu sou totalmente apaixonada por essa música (tá entre as faves doo 1989) e pra mim combina perfeitamente com os dois hihi inclusive é a que eu tinha te comentado que era a cara deles MAS ia te mostrar nessa ask. a música tem um monte de trechos pequenos mas vou pegar os meus favoritos que são A CARA dos dois: “he says ‘look up’ and your shoulders brush, no proof, one touch, but you felt enough” E “morning, his place, burnt toast, sunday ; you keep his shirt, he keeps his word” E “and for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts" E “one night, he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says ‘you're my best friend’ and you knew what it was, he is in love” E “cause you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out ; you are in love, true love”.

begin again (taylor swift): ainda na nossa jornada da taylor, é óbvio que eu não podia deixar de fora a música que é totalmente o lado da aileen sobre estar com o nic depois de um estrupício que nem o brian rsrs. “i walked in, expecting you'd be late, but you got here early and you stand and wave” (o que é na verdade ela até atualmente sobre ele!!) E “and you throw your head back laughing like a little kid, i think it's strange that you think i'm funny 'cause he never did” E “i’ve been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end, but on a Wednesday in a café, i watched it begin again”.

new year’s day (taylor swift): eu sei que eu sou imparável... mas... A GENTE NÃO TINHA JÁ VISTO AS MÚSICAS DA TAYLOR PRA ELES ENTÃO EU POSSO... (e vou usar esse mesmo argumento pros pais do ano, já deixo avisado rs). mas me diz se não combina com eles dois essa música!!!!!!!!!!!! (a tag deles até veio dela) “don’t read the last page, but i stay when you're lost and i’m scared and you’re turning away ; i want your midnights, but i'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day” E “you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, i can tell that it's gonna be a long road ; i’ll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home” E “don't read the last page but i stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we're making mistakes” E “please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere”.

butterflies (kacey musgraves): dando uma pausa de taylor, vamos pra essa música da kacey que eu realmente AMO e é totalmente a aileen sobre o nic rsrs. “now, you're lifting me up 'stead of holding me down, stealing my heart 'stead of stealing my crown, untangled all the strings 'round my wings that were tied” E “kiss full of color makes me wonder where you've always been, i was hiding in doubt 'til you brought me out of my chrysalis, and i came out new all because of you”.

menções honrosas (no thoughts just vibes): obviously (mcfly), daylight (taylor swift), can i be him (james arthur) e call it what you want (taylor swift).

[  slide  ]  sender  pushes  an  item  across  the  table  to  receiver

MEME ↣ Nonverbal prompts.

There was a lot of talk about this bloke. King of fire and ash. Warmonger. Rebel. Downright bastard. That was all it amounted to... talk. He strolled onto her ship like he own the fucking thing. Looked like a mean bastard too. But then he sat himself down and spoke calmly of a deal.

He could have crushed her then and there. Set fire to her ship. Any number of things. He didn’t though, because he was a smart sort, and he knew striking out against one pirate would make room for yet another. Maybe one who wasn’t so damn good at manoeuvring around the god-fearing fleet belonging to the witch hunter King.

“You want me to work for you.” Rika repeated, eyeing the contract a moment longer before she lifted her attention to scoff him. “I’m a pirate, mate. I don’t work for Kings. Savvy?”

It was more of less the response he anticipated, if the knowing grin was anything to go by. He returned a simple question. Why not?

“I’ll tell ya why bloody not, I’m in it for the people. I don’t give a single fuck how rich your Kingdom is, or how poor, my lot have been cast out of hearth and home into this shitland as fucking property. I do this for them. Freeing my aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters, it ain’t a hobby. What I earn thievin’ off the slave-trading pisslords goes back into building up our community. I’m not interested in fattening up yer coffers.”

How can I return to writing after a long hiatus?

This post is based on a conversation we had in the Duck Prints Press LLC Discord, and all contributors comments have been used/paraphrased/integrated into this post with permission. The people who contributed ideas to this post are: @nottesilhouette, @ramblingandpie, @arialerendeair, @tryslora, @deansmultitudes, @theleakypen, Owlish Intergalactic, myself (I’m @unforth), and one who preferred to remain anonymous.

Few things are harder than coming back to writing after a long period of not writing. Being creative takes a lot of energy, and starting after not doing so for a period of time takes even more energy. The writers on our Discord had a really productive discussion, where we talked about strategies we’ve each personally used to help us get our writing mojo back. None of these methods work for everyone, but if you haven’t written in a while, maybe one of these will work for you!

How to Revive that Creative Writing Spark:

doing sprints with a friend - knowing you’re all in it together can really help!

talking with writing buddies about what you’re each working on - the shared enthusiasm can be really helpful,

journaling, about daily life, or about dreams you’ve had - turning the dream into something coherent can be a great strategy (or, don’t bother, and just write it however crazily it took place!)

pick a random story you wrote in the past and read a chapter, paragraph, or 500 word segment - and look at it as a reader, say things you liked about it, praise it, emphasize the good things about your own writing.

transcribe a song with lyrics you find inspiring, or crack open a favorite book and transcribe a few paragraphs. You can even do it with something you’ve written yourself!

set a low-pressure, low-word count deadline - make it public, if you’re the kind of person that helps, or keep it to yourself.

sign up for a zero-consequence challenge, such as a bingo, or the Duck Prints Press #drabbledaysaturday prompts on Twitter - something where no one will mind if you don’t succeed, but you might find some inspiration.

create a small goal, either daily, weekly, or monthly - it can be a time frame (I’ll write for 5 minutes a day!) or a word count (I’ll write 1,000 words a month!) or even something tiny (I’ll write one sentence a day!) or a public sharing goal (post a ficlet a day!) and then do your best to stick to it, and reward yourself when you succeed.

open your ask box or otherwise solicit short prompts - for example, do a “three sentence” meme (”send me a pairing and a trope and I’ll write a three sentence fill”) or a story title meme (”send me a story title and I’ll write a little about the story I’d create with that title”) or an emoji prompt (”send me three emojis and I’ll write a ficlet”) or make your own fun one that will bring you joy (one of our writers created a “name two characters and I’ll make them kiss in six sentences or less” meme that helped them a lot)

participate in a prompt month, something with no consequences for failure but with prompts that can inspire daily ficlet.

write without editing, and just throw what you create out into the world - anything to get the words flowing.

challenge yourself to write a drabble day, no more and no less.

try changing how or when you write - get a nice journal and write by hand, or if that’s your normal, try writing in a word document instead.

write at different times of day, and see if it’s easier for you over breakfast, or after lights out, or during your lunch break, or by stealing a few minutes while you’re “on the clock” at work.

make an attempt at different formats of writing - if you usually write prose, try a poem; if you usually write really long things, try a drabble.

look out your window, or find a place you like, and just describe what you see.

do some free association exercises - for example, use a random word generator (I use this one sometimes) and then write literally whatever word comes into your head next - keep going until you fill the page, or until it starts to turn into a story, or just until you don’t feel like it any longer.

pick a random sentence (the person who suggested this often uses “Just write anything”) to be the start of a story, and “pants” your way through whatever comes next, without worrying about grammar, continuity, logic, or much of anything.

plan ahead - schedule your writing time and don’t let yourself put it off (rewards for success are always good!) and/or visualize exactly what you want to write ahead so you’re ready when you sit down.

if you get hit by inspiration, don’t put it off - even if all you do is scrawl a sentence in your phone or on scratch paper between other tasks, get it out of your head. Even a single sentence is a creation!

get out of the spaces where your usual things are - go to a park, or on a hike, or in your backyard, or even a different room in your own home, and bring a journal or phone or laptop, and see what strikes you.

pick That Thing You Haven’t Been Letting Yourself Write and ignore all the things you Think You Should Be Writing and just...write what brings you joy

fanfiction can be very helpful, especially in canon using canon-compliant ships/characterizations - there’s no need to do the heavy lifting. Even if you just write the characters going to a grocery store, or talking about what movie they want to watch, or arguing over take out - something short and sweet that’s just for fun, with no expectations for yourself or anyone else.

alternatively, if you’re the type who writes better for others and you’re feeling down - knock out anything, even something short, and post it, and take joy even in a single like or kudos. Knowing even one person out there loved what you wrote can really help.

Any or all of these may help you, but there’s one final one that I, at least, think is the most important of all - and that’s helped me most.

FORGIVE YOURSELF. You have work in progress up. It’s okay to leave them. You told someone you’d write something for them. It’s okay not to. You have a deadline looming. It’s okay to ask for more time, or to withdraw, or - in the end - it’s even okay to ghost. You think what you’ve made is bad. It’s okay if it’s bad. You’ll never be able to create when you’re raking yourself over the coals. Everyone in fandom has “been there” - has missed deadlines, has left challenges, has abandoned works in progress, have reneged on a promise to a friend to write something. Until you forgive yourself, you’ll never be able to create anything, and isn’t even a single sentence that isn’t on that Big Important Thing better than no sentences on anything?

Forgive yourself, and find that spark, inspiration, muse, whatever you want to call it - and write things that bring you joy.

We believe in you!

YOU CAN DO IT!