#actions have consequences au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdpoe · 1 year

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Prefacing this with I haven't read the comics I just dip in and out like the canon is a pool and I'm trying to climb onto a pool floatie.

So y'all remember that weird fucked up mind game test Bruce pulled on Tim in the beginning of their bullshit? The real fucked up mindgame that made Tim quit being robin for a bit, before coming back and being all "I know I'm not gonna get an apology." And Bruce was all "good."?

What if Tim realized it for what it was.

Tim realizes the test is a test and decides to get back at Bruce in his own game.

Bruce wants to act like he doesn't care about him in an effort to protect himself from grief if another kid ends up dying? That's fine.

Bruce resorting to psychological mind games to drive Tim away from seeking any support??

Not cool.

Tim realizes, and pulls a Hamlet.

He likes Dick, doesn't want the man to go through what Bruce is about to, and goes to Bludhaven to directly tell Dick not to believe ANYTHING Batman says for a month if it relates to Tim, that he's gonna teach the old man a lesson.

Dicks like "uhhhhhhh okay? U know we can just tell him whatever he's done is wrong, right?"

And Tim's just "nah, I'm past that point. See u in like three weeks to a month. This conversation didn't happen."

He leaves a copy of Hamlet in his locker in the bat cave, the only clue he's gonna drop until all is said and done, and gets to work.

Pretends that Bruce's mind fuck has driven him mad, pretends that he's sneaking off to chase down leads, pretends to talk to people that aren't there, visits the joker just to learn how to mimic his laugh, (side bar, joker has no idea why the new robin is visiting him and disabling the cameras, or why the kid just copies what he says and when he laughs, but after like two weeks of it he may be slightly uncomfortable around the kid no lie) uses makeup to make his eye bags look worse and trashes his own house (his parents are gonna be so pissed but he's already angrier than they could ever hope to be, so they can suck it), acts so unhinged Bruce calls it off and tries to tell him the truth, only for Tim to pretend like he doesn't believe him and steal the robin uniform and run away, and then goes and sneaks away from his own house (he knew he was being watched) to a warehouse he predetermined with a conspiracy theory board and string in his room (he needs to make sure Bruce knows where Tim wants him to go) and the conspiracy theory is just an amalgamation of the bullshit Joker spews (again, joker is really confused by this strange child hero and very slightly unsettled, what the fuck Batman where the fuck did u get this robin, maybe return him to the robin store? This one's defunct), makes sure it's abandoned, and blows it to hell with the robin uniform inside

He knows Bruce will be too jarred, to lost in the major trauma buttons Tim is pushing with the warehouse explosion, to do a proper analysis. He KNOWS Bruce will want it done as quickly as possible, and try to bury Tim as quickly as he can. He knows his parents won't get any phone calls for at least a month.

Then he goes to ground for a week.

Walks back into the cave after that week, corners a grieving and broken Bruce, and asks him how he likes mind games now.

After all, it was just a TEST. There was no need to skip basic steps like DNA analysis, that's just SLOPPY Bruce.

Dick, who had been warned by Tim early on and kinda knew the kid was gonna pull a fast one of Bruce, had NO IDEA it was gonna be this depraved, and is very highly Shook. Nor did he realize Bruce had tried a mind game first, and is...disappointed but not surprised, really.

But holy shit Tim Bruce started at a 9 and you escalated to a goddamn 25.

Bruce, realizing that they may both be a bit fucked up, acquiesces to therapy. For all of them. Holy shit for all of them, because that was NOT a normal teenage response and he is beginning to sense some distinctly villainous red flags from this kid.

Next time the joker breaks out he flat out refuses to believe that Tim is a Robin, and joker is the one that starts the whole Cuckoo thing, and asks Batman if he's gonna send the kid to Arkham early or if this is a weird intervention program he's trying.

Then he tries to murder like fifty people cuz he's the motherfucking JOKER.

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teenagemutantninjatrauma · 2 months

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Going to put them in the @obscure-au-comp mark my words

(If we qualify I’m gonna post the finished piece ehehehe)

#Actions Have Consequences AU #AHC AU #need to get a proper tag for that probably #tmnt fast forward #2k3 Cody Jones #2k3 dark turtles #tmnt dark turtles

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secreterces5 · 8 months

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Here they come!! This is Ro Glowborn, a bodyguard OC for a TMNT fic I am co-writing :) she uses all pronouns and was originally an Among Us OC, if you can believe it.

#tmnt 2k3 #tmnt fast forward #🔫 read my fic boy #🌹 charlie’s art #🌹 ahc au #Actions Have Consequences AU #🌹 oc art #🌹 Ro Glowborn

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1luckyrubberducky · 28 days

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#i lomf him face lol #cowboy!au #cowboy!sundrop #cowboy au #fnaf au #cowboy au belongs to castercassette #1luckyrubberducky #actions have *potentially desireable* consequences

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themeeplord · 1 year

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(Continuation of this post)

Once the prey has been successfully lured and captured, it will be wrapped in a cuddle cocoon and thoroughly nuzzled, hugged and kissed until the vicious beast is satisfied.

This step can take up to several hours.

@naffeclipse it continues >:3

#all of you just walked straight into their trap! so now you have to suffer the consequences of your foolish actions!#hope you have nothing planned for the next few hours #fnaf sb au #cryptid au #cryptid sightings #cryptid!sun #cryptid!moon #art #my art #sketch #doodle

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hanadoesstuffwrong · 2 months

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Sokka: This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them

Kiyi is the only addition from the comics that I'm willing to acknowledge, however, I will happily ignore everything else abt her story. Instead she is Ozai's daughter and protecting her was what kept Ursa in hiding, at least until a year after the war when Zuko and Katara show up for The Southern Raiders pt 2: Electric Boogaloo.

#zuko's redesign stems from my headcanon that after trying to be like his predecessors for a hot minute #he ultimately realises that another Sozin/Azulon/Ozai is not the answer so he kinda de-militarises his royal outfits to represent that #(also all i can think abt when i see comic zuko is him going sideways to get through doorways)#so bye bye big military-style shoulderpads and hello soft flowing robes #also no more bangs because what were they thinking #i have a fic idea where zutara find Ursa and Kiyi with prisoner Azula's help only for a landslide to seperate them right after reuniting #zk and Ursa on one side and Azula and Kiyi on the other #so Azula is faced with a LOT #does she escape? does she take revenge on Ursa by leaving Kiyi defenseless?#she has a whole crisis but ultimately protects Kiyi and returns her to Ursa even though it sacrifices her only chance at freedom #this action doesn't redeem her or spare her the consequences of her past actions but it does start her on that journey #zuko #kiyi #my posts #atla #atla fanart #my art #gonna add zutara cos this does allude to a zutara au i have in mind even though it isn't strictly speaking abt zk themselves #zutara

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total-drama-brainrot · 27 days

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Island Assistant Noah AU, where Noah got himself eliminated on purpose, but Chris + Chef somehow figure it out... The day after Noah's elimination, everyone is surprised to see that Noah's back... Chris reveals that inside the contestants' contracts: "Anyone who gets eliminated on purpose, will become Chris Mcclean's Assistant."... And Noah has to be decent at his job, or he won't get paid... Noah stays Chris' Assistant all throughout Island, Action and World Tour! 🌎 (I'm sorry if I'm asking this twice; I don't remember asking this!)

OKAY!! SO!!

You did already ask me this and I did have an answer in the works to the original ask, but because Tumblr's mobile app is my number one enemy, I accidentally posted it. So, really, it's super fortunate that you asked this twice!

But! Because I'm a smart cookie, I took some screenshots of what I had typed out in the original post, so I can just re-type it out here and carry on! (I'd post just the screenshots, but they're full of typos because I'm just awful at typing on a phone.)

So, here's my answer:

Yes!! Give me a Noah who thought he was being so sneaky and cunning by intentionally getting himself eliminated, only for it to backfire horrendously!

The producers would've known that the contestants were being sent to Camp Wawanakwa instead of the resort their contract heavily implied they'd be going to, so they would absolutely anticipate at least one of them trying to pull a stunt like Getting Themselves Eliminated Intentionally- either as an act of defiance against the trickery (of Camp Wawanakwa not being what was advertised) or just to be spiteful.

Noah being the one to do so is just happenstance.

(It was more so expected from the likes of Duncan or Izzy, who are outwardly anti-authoritarian and not afraid to confront perceived injustices.)

If I may, I'd suggest having the contract outline that whoever intentionally gets themself eliminated has to work as a base-level intern, and that their "pay" is them working off whatever expenses the show invested into them as a competitor (travel costs, lodging, food, ect.). So Noah ends up stuck in the role of an unpaid intern for however long it takes him to "earn his keep" so to speak. But it's a Sisyphean task, since his debt is ever growing- he's forced to stay at Playa des Losers as an intern, and his daily cost of living is just added to the expenses he needs to work off.

At first, he'd be outright resistant to doing any of his tasks as an intern, because why should he? He didn't ask for the job, he didn't (knowingly) sign up for it either, and it's not like he's gonna be paid for his work. That is, until the producers threaten to pass his debt off to the rest of his family to "pick up his slack"; Noah's not heartless, and he cares a lot about his family, so he concedes to actually doing the work expected of him to save the rest of his brood from having to compensate for his short-sightedness.

(Let's say this turn of event takes about a week, meaning that from the time of his own elimination to the threat to his family's financial wellbeing, only Justin and Katie have been eliminated. Since, at least during Island, it's established that a challenge and subsequent elimination ceremony happens every three days.)

Now, the thing about lazy people- of which Noah undoubtedly is- is that they're downright innovative when it comes to figuring out shortcuts for any type of labour. Now that he's invested in doing his job, Noah uses that big brain of his to quickly figure out how to get all of his allotted tasks for the day completed to near-perfection, in a manner that's both efficient and easy. It gets to the point where he's completing a full day's work in an hour, spending the rest of the day doing what he loves; nothing. The other interns are just as annoyed as they are impressed.

Word quickly gets back to Chris about his miracle intern. But he's either too preoccupied to actually listen to who it is, or no one thinks to explain that his most productive labourer is the ex-competitor he'd contractually conned into the position.

Needless to say, Chris' interest is piqued.

The host issues a request to have the mystery intern shipped out to the island so they can work on the "important stuff" instead of doing menial tasks on the Playa, and is met with staunch refusal on their part. Which is odd, at least to Chris, since the interns send to be far too scared shitless of him (or, more notably, Chef) to ever outright deny a request like that.

It makes more sense when Noah's literally dragged kicking and screaming back to the island. Of course the only person ballsy enough to defy Chris' whims is the same contestant who got himself intentionally eliminated via deliberately pissing off his teammates. But he's back, now, so he might as well be put straight to work! No use in wasting labour, after all.

(Again, this probably happens over the course of a few days at most, since showbusiness is such a hectic and fast-paced line of work, so let's say that Tyler's the only new elimination in this timeframe.)

Again, Noah utilizes his higher-than-average smarts to figure out how to streamline his expected tasks because he's lazy, inadvertently proving himself as a Valuable Asset to both Chris and Chef since he's surprisingly good at what he does (even if what he does is very little by design). Chris is quick to offer Noah an ultimatum; he can either be promoted to being Chris' Personal Assistant, thus meeting the demands of his previous contract (and, of course, entering a new one under different pretences) and finally being paid for his work, or remain as an unpaid intern indefinitely and receive penalisation for his slacking off- since, despite the fact that he's gotten all of his work finished, he's still technically on the clock for the allotted work hours and should be acting as such instead of lazing about.

It's not really much of a choice. Noah reluctantly takes the promotion.

That's how he finds himself in the position we all know and love; Chris' Personal Assistant.

Because of his new promotion, he's expected to be at least within the vicinity of Chris at all (reasonable) times. The problem with that? Chris is hosting the show he got himself eliminated from in the most socially destructive way possible. Noah's now contractually forced to, at the very least, tiptoe around the prior teammates he knowingly and intentionally made hate him and dearly hope they don't notice him.

...Thus begins an AU's worth of shenanigans wherein Noah is desperately trying to fly under everyone's radar as an intern.

(I'd carry on into what he does during Action and World Tour, but this post is already fairly long, so maybe another time?)

#love having noah face the consequences of his actions #especially when they're disproportionate to his actual “crimes”#also really like the headcanon that he got himself eliminated on purpose. it's JUST maliciously compliant enough for him to feasibly do.#...not that i think he did. in my mind noah really is just that much of an asshole AND socially illiterate enough--#to do what he did in the dodgebrawl episode with no ulterior motive.#anyway in this au noah gets his two disaster gay uncles via chef and chris because i said so.#all assistant noahs get to have chref guardians. as a treat.#total drama #td noah #assistant noah au #silly ideas #others' ideas #replies

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avirxy · 3 months

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Hi! What do you think of an au where Claire never came back home after the events of First Frost, so everyone thinks she was kidnapped or ran away, maybe Blinky and AAARRRGGHH found her, so she ends up doing her Trollhunter duties alone, basically living in Trollmarket, but the other kids still get involved in some way?

Oh Anon we are so on the same wavelength, because First Frost was originally supposed to be a lot shorter, with this premise, when I started out.

So I’d say she officially ‘disappears’ in eighth grade, giving the kids time to bond and form a kind of coherent group, so when she does actually disappear it leaves a bigger impact than just right off the bat after Jim and Toby met her.

By the beginning of Sophomore year she’s still missing, and it’s assumed she’s either a runway or kidnapped but there’s not much evidence to back that, her parents are left in a state of disarray, Enrique is still born but he’s yet to meet his older sister.

Around Halloween Mary throws out the idea of heading to a party, it doesn’t end the way they hope.

They’re targeted by Bular, who believes the amulet has chosen a human due to the human stature this new Trollhunter has, he’s wrong of course but by the time the kids are cornered the real Trollhunter shows up, it’s impossible to tell who it actually is due to their helmet, which covers their face, but the five escape Bular’s ire.

Then Blinky and Aaarrrgghh show up after the attack, the Trollhunter tries to brush off the idea but the kids are taken down to Trollmarket for their protection until sunrise and basically given a rundown of why they were targeted.

Claire hasn’t actually told Blinky and Aaarrrgghh the full truth about her situation, as in she didn’t explicitly admit she ran away from home. Still she’s been living with them in Trollmarket.

The more Jim and co learn about what’s been going on under the surface of their town the more they begin to think that maybe Claire was attacked by Bular, or taken by the Janus Order. Blinky tries to dissuade them of the fact, because one, he knows where their friend is, and two, he doesn’t want them recklessly endangering themselves and gaining Bular’s ire again.

Claire won’t actually interact with her friends, due to the immense guilt she feels, and she’d left to keep the people she cared about out of Trollhunting specifically, now she’s still managed to involve them.

They’re rarely allowed into Trollmarket though, as Vendel disapproves immensely of their presence, it takes time but he eventually warms up and allows sparing visits so they can get more information from Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. Claire purposefully avoids the library at those times.

Barbara is the first parent to find out, after the four are given a Gaggletack for the surface, tipped with the threat of Changelings.

Strickler has an awkward dinner interruption after Jim manages to hit his shoulder to say the least and ends up fleeing, unable to face Jim and Barbara, the bridge is still being constructed in the museum.

Soon after Mary’s moms, Darci’s dad and Nana are brought into the situation, they hesitate the tell Nuñezs their daughter may have been an unfortunate victim to the creatures underneath their town. They’ve already been grieving their daughter for almost three years..is false hope really necessary?

By the Battle of the bridge the kids aren’t present for the fight, only Draal, Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Claire are there, she frimly denies involving her friends in the fight.

Bular is killed by her alone, his mangled stone corpse left in the canal as a warning for any of the Janus Order.

Bular is dead, the threat is gone, she should go home-she can return to the surface.

But she doesn’t. She can’t.

The kids learn about the caves where Bular had kept the people he’d bitten and cursed. Barbara and Jim look into ways of contacting Strickler ,who disappeared after the Battle, surely he’d know if Bular had specifically targeted people.

Around this time Darci comes into an unfortunate accident with a gang of goblins, the Trollhunter intervenes thankfully but doesn’t get away unscathed.

Darci tries to help them but they pull away, grumbling they don’t need help.

It becomes an unfortunate occurrence, seeing the Trollhunter take hit after hit in battle, the kids try to assist but they’re quickly rebuffed. Each and every time, they’re also brushed with a weird sense of Deja vu.

The way the Trollhunter moves, talks, it’s so achingly familiar.

It goes on like that for weeks.

Until they find them curled in an alleyway at night. Their armor is off, and their side bleeds a sickly dark purple.

Darci is taken aback by how young they look. Trolls age differently of course but the ‘mighty’ Trollhunter can’t be anything more than a teenager in troll standards.

Their offer to help is finally accepted just this once, if only to keep her from bleeding out. But the pattern repeats itself and they find the Trollhunter willingly coming to them for help when they can’t take care of their injuries alone.

Claire knows she shouldn’t keep doing this, being in the armor is what keeps her a troll during the warm months, if she’s out of it too long she could start to change back, but she desperately wants to see her friends, see how much they’ve changed, and their kindness is something she’s absolutely taking for granted.

Angor Rot’s appearance makes things turn for the worse, he’s relentless, desperate for his promised soul in return for taking out the Trollhunter, Nomura isn’t senseless, she’ll do just that once he’s brought her proof. What better proof than the Trollhunters stone corpse?

The begrudging relationship the kids have built with the Trollhunter, who still hesitates to let them enter the fray, comes to a head when Angor’s latest attempt nearly succeeds.

Dawn is minutes away and Angor sends Claire rolling toward the edge of the incline, cutting her off, unable to reach any sort shadow or protection from the rising sun.

Angor knows, he has too, that’s why he’s watching smugly from the shade as her friends scream at her to move.

They can’t reach her fast enough, and in a desperate move the Trollhunter tears off their amulet, instead of a troll as the armor dissipates it’s a human, a girl, with long overgrown brown hair, edges faintly tinged blue, most of the dye faded out.

Then she looks up..

Jim isn’t sure he’s breathing, heart thudding in his chest, Mary and Darci have frozen beside him.

“Claire?”

#I may still turn it into a fic!#just a big consequences of our actions type beat #six chapters at the max lol #way back when I started first frost it would have taken more of this direction #but Claire wasn’t actually going to be the Trollhunter #then I realized I wanted to make it a bit longer and go through a lot of canon #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #darci scott #Mary wang #angor rot #asks #au #first frost

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dreadnotau · 3 months

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Happy three years everybody! As always, there’s a lot to say on the occasion, so pop in at the end of the post for the tl;dr if you don’t have time for my detailed diatribes, haha

Boy, time flies, huh? Feels like the second anniversary was just yesterday, but maybe that’s just the several long hiatuses getting to me. I’ve been scarce on uploading anything anywhere for a while now, even though I promised I’d actually pick up the slack this time around. What gives? Well…

For one, college hell, and for two, a lot of unfounded anxiety about putting my art out there. Allow me some theatrics for a moment and I’ll actually get back to the comic at hand… I’ve never had an exceptionally supportive environment for making art. It wasn’t suppressive, not in the slightest, but it also wasn’t… encouraging. It was always treated as a hobby or a distraction rather than something I was allowed to be fully proud of, especially because a lot of my art focused on more cartoon-y and fantasy ideas, rather than still life studies and painting (which people generally outside of the art sphere tend to value more, arbitrarily). Couple that with a childhood full of being bullied over minute shit you hadn’t even considered could be an issue before, and you get a teenager hellbent on never sharing his interests or ideas with anyone, mostly due to the fear of rejection.

I’ve grown, thankfully, but that paranoia and fear doesn’t go away overnight. As I’m sure you all know, Meowchela was the one who originally encouraged me to post this comic, and the only reason she succeeded was because she was the first person in a long time who listened and engaged with my interests and my art in a meaningful way. It’s kind of obvious her friendship had a profound impact on me, and I’d cite her as one of the reasons I was even hopeful enough to apply to an art college in the first place! This comic, and that bond with another person, proved that maybe these things I’m so passionate about weren’t duds, and weren’t something I had to keep to myself.

So, fast forward a few years. About three years, in fact.

During one of my classes, right before this hellish two weeks of exams started, one of the class assistants talked me into showing my comic pages to one of my professors. He’s generally a pretty open guy when it comes to new mediums, but I’m always… apprehensive about showing my less “traditional art”-y things to professors, but, he ended up being genuinely proud of it. Specifically, I showed him pages 85-87 (because they’re my favourites) and, he didn’t read the text, just the visuals were enough for him to say “good job, keep it up” (which is HIGH praise from that guy). When I mentioned I’ve been meaning to simplify the visuals because I didn’t have time to work on the comic very often because of college and classes, he dismissed it on principle. I was honestly caught off guard. Heavily paraphrasing, he suggested that worsening the visuals for an arbitrary deadline was counterproductive to making something that’s Good™.

That’s kinda stuck with me. For a good few years now I was more focused on optimisation rather than visual improvement for the comic, and though it HAS contributed to better visuals in some ways (cutting corners sometimes makes for a less pointy and jagged end result), it’s kind of weird I’m treating an art project that way, isn’t it? I set a lot of… arbitrary deadlines and standards for myself, in the form of expectations and what I “should” or “shouldn’t” be doing at certain stages in my life. I’ve thought of Dread Not as a passion project second and a stepping stone first, if I’m being honest. As if it was too… fandom-y and derivative to be treated with more gravity than that, like it’s an immature project because I was still a child when I came up with it. As if it was something I’m making to Build Up to Something Else, something Bigger and Cooler and More Important, and… the more I think about the future of Dread Not, and even my future career options, the more I realised that’s, ironically, a really immature way to think about it.

If there’s one thing going to this art college has taught me, is that there’s no “right” way to make art, and there’s no “right” way to success as an artist. There’s no clear-cut paths, just more commonly treaded roads, but even those are heavily overgrown. Why should I try to box myself into thinking I have to make things from complete scratch to be taken seriously? What’s so bad about Dread Not as a story and as a comic that’s caused me to vaguely keep it under wraps when conversing with people in my day-to-day life? Why wouldn’t I put all these skills I’ve acquired to improve and expand this project that’s Right There, WAITING for me to finally get off my ass and get pages out there again?

I wish I could say I’ve used all this time away in a particularly clever way, but I really haven’t - at least, it feels like I haven’t. My art has undoubtedly improved over time (though admittedly the art for this post was Very rushed, fuckin exams), and while I’ve been working on projects in the background, chipping away at them in a VERY disorganised way, I haven’t been posting that progress anywhere, and I haven’t made any good progress on my biggest project, Dread Not, because of the other ones. And, honestly? Admitting that kinda stings. This comic means a lot to me, and I wish I actually gave it the time and attention it deserves instead of letting it sit out hiatus after hiatus because I keep failing at structuring my time.

So, my new plan is a little more abstract: find a way to work Dread Not into my school schedule, and slowly build a habit of working on it more often. No clue how long that’ll take, but I think it’ll be worth it to consider it as an option, and hopefully finally end these long, drawn out hiatuses with short bursts of uploads in-between. HOPEFULLY. Building habits was never my strong suit, so please bear with me while I figure this out in what will probably be the most hectic upload schedule in this comics history, which is: no schedule at all.

From now on (until the end of Act 1), I’ll upload pages when they’re ready, and depending on how the weeks go and how complex the page is, they could be weeks or days apart from one another. Hell, some might even take a month to finish if school stuff gets REALLY hectic (god knows Hellish Exam Week number 1 and number 2 won’t be giving me much time to work on the comic), but I’m determined to do this. I want to be able to put my all into this project again!!

(And hopefully finish Act 1 by the end of this semester…)

TL;DR: College is giving me life lessons I didn’t expect, and because of them I’ve decided to give myself a non-existent upload schedule for Dread Not: Pages will be posted when they’re ready, and the spacing between pages could wildly vary depending on circumstances and the actual complexity of the page itself.

As always, thank you for being here, thank you for reading, and thank you for being patient!

If all goes well, there will be new content very, very soon.

#dread not #dreadnot #dread not au #dreadnotau #not comic #kris #schedule update #again #apparently i was calling this last hiatus a pseudo hiatus?#oh silly past me. this was a full blown hiatus jesus fucking christ #but yeah no i love being at this college dont get me wrong #its just that i have like 3 exams to prepare for the next two days ALONE #so like!!!! wish me luck!!!!! for christs sake #yknow i was planning on actually Dedicating Time to the art for this post #but uhh. haha. a little thing called the consequences to my actions caught up to me #fuckin psychology exam today that i had to cram for last night #i think it went ok? who the fuck knows at this point #but for tomorrow and the day after that i have digital shit to finish some theory to cram AND an ENTIRE PAINTING #that i didnt even START YET #and its an autoportrait. as if i wasnt suffering enough i have to stare at my ugly mug for hours #AGAIN. BECAUSE I HAD A DIFF AUTOPORTRAIT TO FINISH FOR LAST WEEK #im in spain without the s yall pray for me

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the-last-quest · 26 days

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I’m sure everything is going to turn out fine :))

#ignore how messy these are i tried to clean them lol #I’m sure this action won’t have any devestating consequences #also first time posting the fox guy (I don’t have a name for him yet but I hate him(lovingly))#anyways actual lore for my au kinda???#someone please ask me about it I am desperate to info dump #I also kinda want to make a separate blog for it but idk lol #ps I did not forget the inhibitor rings ;)#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #unbreakable bond #sonic and tails #sonic oc #shadow the hedgehog #sonic au #dhmis au #sonic dhmis au

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kiraman · 3 months

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Killing Strangers PART II, must read PART I. first. Read them back to back if you can for the full experience.

JOHN WICK AU. death/blood/violence cw / Mizu x female oc

wordcount: 3,905 / soundtrack

People don't understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It's not about being mean. It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It's about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the pure, absolute, unbridled perfection of it.

No one's expecting the girl who burned to rise from her ashes. She is not her; she is neither here nor there, she's a ghost, he's smoke smoke smoke, it slips through your fingers; ashes and embers; consuming and resuming herself. They do not know they have been promised death by her hand. But she does. Smoke does. And a promise made, Must be honored.

She does try to stay in the shadows at first. There are 10 million dollars hanging heavy over her head, and she will not fill anyone's hands with them; blood money. Stained by fear; weakness; desperation. She does not care that the world is hot on her trail, death dogging her every step. Like smoke, she slips through the cracks, filling their lungs with her death; a pistol cold in her hand, silencer on, bullets flying; precision; effectiveness. No witnesses left. They come for her, and she takes down five men in a back alley, stitches half torn open, snarling fiercely, growling her rage; she does not shed blood with her knife this time, only with her gun. She does not stop to watch who's chasing after her shadow.

She knows where to find him now; and that is all that matters to her.

It's New Year's Eve and the Cellar, (what they call the obscenely large space Violet uses to throw sinfully lavish parties at his mansion where he lives with his wife and daughter, half way across New York where the core of his group operates. ) is thrumming with life, packed full of people, all flushed, decadent exuberance and loud techno music blaring through the night, filling the air with its hollowness.

Mizu stares through the windows, letting the flickering strob-lights blind her until it's time to move.

With swift, controlled movements she pulls her jacket on, black, slick, bulletproof. She readjusts the holster of her dagger, strapped at her hip. Neon light glints off her sunglasses, neatly arranged onto her nose as she moves.

Like a shadow, she delves into the depths of his lair, unassuming, swift, like smoke, like the wind, unfathomably quick, unerringly, expertly infallible in her calculations.

Crowds throng her way, pulsing with music, swelling, swaying in the rhythm, the low, droning sound of it. She pushes her way through the throng, the grimy light of the club casting her in silhouette as she ascends the stairs to the second level. Unarmed, no guns are allowed here, in the club; still, she takes down the man guarding the door to the second floor; he grunts, a vicious, wounded sound torn from his throat as she wraps her arm around his throat and squeezes the life out of him; he thrashes violently against her, but she calmly covers his mouth with her other hand and squeezes viciously against his nose, not giving way, until he slumps over, heavy with death. She tosses him aside, and reaches for his gun, frowns when she notices it doesn't have a silencer.

Fuck it. So be it. Loud it is.

When she shoves her way onto the second floor, she sees him; sitting across from her. The strobe lights overhead cast his face in strange half-light. He is here, alive; throbbing darkly, darkly; she cannot see past his hand, curled around some young girl's waist; that same hand, stroking her hair; Mother dead in the bathtub, drowning in her blood; she cannot see past his face, dark, head thrown back in laughter, and everything around her fades away.

Smoke— ?

a man snarls somewhere near her, surprised. She looks his way, hand on her gun; his eyes fall to her hand. — You working?

Everything around her freezes, becomes smoke, fades away with her breath.

No. Not tonight... You?

Yes.

They stand, like this, motionless, stiff, breath thick in their throats, something dark trembling at the very edge of the room, and for a moment, the whole world seems to stop spinning, comes to violent halt to stand right in front of her.

She is faster than him, gun flashing under the lights as she lifts it and fires, shot after shot piercing the air, cold, metallic. Glass shatters, an explosion of metal and light as she shoots at the glass ceiling overhead, bullets riddling the mirrors flashing under the strobe lights, smashing them onto the floor and onto the bodyguards guarding the stairs leading to the third floor. Pure adrenaline washes over Mizu, and she is at her feet, growling as they hurriedly carry Violet away; his name poison in her mouth as she calls out to him, amd he looks back, pure terror in those dark eyes before he's ushered away to safety. There are throngs of people screaming around her, scrambling for the exits, but she does not even see them, her eyes, dark and terrible and dark, honed in on him; she kicks out powerfully at a man running towards her, swings and disarms him, ferociously snapping his wrist and twisting his hand towards himself, emptying his own gun into his stomach, then with a sharp, sudden twist of her torso, plunges the last of its bullets into the head of a second guard launching himself towards her.

The rasp of a door breaking open on its hinges crackles in the air, and metal floors squeaking from the men rushing in. Mizu quickly stands and turns, viciously collars the woman running by her, Violet's daughter, with her left hand and lifts her out of the grasp of her bodyguard clean into the air, unhesitatingly shooting him in the face. Snarling breathlessly, she hoists her in front of her body and turns towards the door, kicking out and ducking, shooting at another man at her left, kicking him back down and crashing his skull with her boot, and then the men from downstairs are flooding in, their rifles pointed in at her and the first man pauses as he comes through the hysterical crowds around them to take in the sight of the girl hanging in the air in front of Smoke and in the moment of his hesitation Mizu, unflinchingly, shoots him dead. She uses her body as a shield, relentlessly firing round after round until the dance floor is littered with bodies, sticky with their blood.

Another one she recognizes as one of Violet's right hands rushes in, and she throws her dagger at his chest, unerringly piercing it open. The man’s legs collapse from under him and Mizu drops the girl into a swing and launches her into the air at the other man taking aim with his gun and the man recoils in horror as the daughter of his boss flies towards him, drops the weapon to catch her as she crashes into him and Mizu is already on top of him as they fall to the ground and she smiles into the man’s eyes and fires the last round left into his head. She looks up towards the stairs leading to the third floor, and takes the man’s rifle, swings it smoothly upwards on the ball of her foot and then she is out the door and after Violet, leaving his daughter behind, unconscious but alive.

It's dark in the hallway, the low drone of the music coming from underneath, vibrating through the floor. She holds her gun tighter, loaded and cocked. It is so quiet she can only hear her own heartbeat, a distant humming, static, electric, the fan overhead, whirring in the smoky air. The walls that line the hallway are made of glass, reflecting the light pouring in through the windows back onto one another, a narrow strip of low-light. She walks, noiselessly, ears pricked, until the slightest motion pierces the dam of the silence surrounding her, and she is furiously ducking, flying onto the floor as she expertly fires a bullet through two of the men laying in wait for her around the corner, sending them smashing through a glass wall. Glass shatters all around her, and she groans, blood streaming down her face and into her mouth, but she does not feel it, she can't feel anything past the rage in her blood. She is angry.

She cocks her rifle and empties it into the vague shape of a figure that she can see running along the hallway on the other side through the glass, and the wall shatters, shards of glass exploding, raining down onto her head; she tosses the empty rifle aside and quickly, too quickly, turns around, gathering a fistful of glass, sharp shards of it that she unerringly throws into the throat and neck of a second guard running down the stairs towards her, shooting blindly. With a cry derived far more from anger than pain, she head butts the other bodyguard that comes pouncing towards her from the shadows -shattering his nose, his face instantly crimson with blood- before slashing the last of the shard of glass in her hand wide, severing the bodyguard's artery. She reaches for the gun of the first man and loads it; she is angry; she can't see past the blood trickling down her cheek, beading at her neck. She throws herself onto another man, swings her legs around and wraps them around his throat, squeezing until his spine breaks as she uses his body as a shield, expertly shooting another five men dead with no more than six bullets; shot after shot after shot, she sends them all crashing into the glass walls, each with a neat bullet hole through their spines and the arteries lining their thighs. Spitting out blood, she is on her feet and ducking behind a marble statue just as she hears more men running up and down the stairs; she is angry; she reloads another gun she took from one of the dead men while running over their bodies, and stills her breathing to near motionless, laying in wait, blood pounding at her temples; silence. Shards of glass crashed under the heel of a boot; her breath, slow, tight in her throat; pulse beating in her neck;

This is death hanging on an infinite number of miniscule mischances.

Anything could tip the world around her, here. Someone coughing in the dark, a distraction. A variation in the low light filtered through the glass, a deceptive shadow.

She is angry. She lifts her gun and waits, silent, invisible, unseeable; they round the corner and with a twist of her body she powerfully, flawlessly swings onto her feet around the marble statue and riddles their backs with her bullets; blood sputters and stains the glass, streaming down the walls; one of the men, growls, furious, and pounces, throws himself at her from the dark, she had not seen him, and Mizu, gasps, shocked, ripping her shoulder away from his hand and furiously punching her elbow into the side of his throat.

Having already thrown her empty gun aside, her hands are free and her fingers, extended in a leap, dig into the edge of his jacket. The man loses his balance; the tug bends him backwards, forcing him to totter back. He struggles furiously, violently rips the jacket off his shoulders and frees himself. Too late. Mizu spins him round by hitting him in the shoulder with her right hand, then immediately strikes him in the neck under the ear with her left. The man - Violet's highest ranking assassin, she realizes; the Jackal- reels but does not fall. She is furious; her eyes, flash, a low growl of pure, uncontrolled rage thrumming in her throat; Jackal digs his fists low into her ribcage where her stitches have torn and she groans, anger flaring up inside her like a flame that explodes, shattering the world around her. Mizu grabs him by the front of his shirt, spins him violently and throws him to the ground. She clenches her fist and thumps him from above. Straight in the mouth. His lips split like blackcurrants, blood filling his jaw and chin, teeth smashing. She growls, moans against the sting of his fingers still digging into her side; one of her hands holds him down by the throat, viciously, like a hammer, like a knife, the other one breathlessly reaching for the gun thrown near them, spinning around and shooting another five, six, seven men down, a bullet through two lungs, a bullet to the side of a neck, then right through a skull, one, two, three shots, a bullet to a thigh, then chest, ripping it open; blood spatters, splashing her face. She reels around, draws her hand back from his throat and punches him again.

She is punching him, over and over, her hands a flurry, a black blur. His face is hot and stinging as boiling water. She is angry; she sees him, black suit, black coat, black sunglasses, a black tiger tattooed on his wrist, emerging from the fire. Mother dead in the bathtub, drowning in her blood.

She punches his face into a pulp, then draws back, groaning, clutching her side. She wastes no time; with an almost frustrated groan she pulls herself to her feet, and staggers down the hallway.

The shattered glass walls shake, vibrating with the distant music coming from down below. She bends and picks up the dagger she had thrown to a man's throat, cutting it open, finds a gun amongst the guts and blood.

She walks slowly down the hall; her face is covered with blood, and her lower lip is split open. Blood is spilling through her shirt where her wound has been ripped open. She does not care; she does not feel the pain.

She's close so close; her hands are cold, precise, calmly, furiously, ruthlessly holding her gun.

And then, she sees him, there, black suit on, immaculately pressed, sat at his desk under a glass ceiling, and she is sunk for a few seconds in the strangest calm of her life. There, within her reach, sits him; him who has violently ripped her life away from her; he, who has plunged her into that fire that still burns inside of her with a rage that nothing could ever snuff out.

His eyes are open and stare back at her with something frighteningly calm in them. Except for the irises, which are of flecked grey so that they seem smokey like the hoar mist on a winter's morning, his eyes are dark. Black. It takes Mizu a few seconds to realise that they have no expression at all.

She steps forward, her boots, slick with blood, making soft, strange noises as she walks towards him slowly, her mouth twisting into a terrifying snarl. Blood trickles down her chin. She licks it away, eyes unblinking, piercing him through with their rage.

"you won't make it out alive... kill me, and then what? you think you'll somehow walk away from this unharmed?"

Mizu does not answer. She cocks her gun.

"there is more coming..."

"—let them." she snarls, calmly, a dark edge to her voice.

She is furious. Her pulse shatters in her throat.

He blinks, and she can see the fear rising in those eyes; he looks behind her, into the hallway, the floor littered with bodies. There's no other coming.

He huffs, reaches for the bottle of whiskey set somewhere near him on the desk, pours himself a drink, then another one, presumably, for her.

Pathetic.

He gulps thickly, his left hand twitching.

She is furious; her blood is pounding at her ears, each beat bringing her closer to that fire, that flame that burns everything inside of her to ashes and from it, rises only smoke, smoke, smoke.

Silence; the clink of a glass against the bottle; his breath, hard, riven with fear. Her heartbeat, furious, dark, thrums in her throat.

Mother dead in her blood. Fireworks lighting up the sky, exploding into flames.

"no one, not even you, can kill everyone. you are not God." he sneers, a hideous glint in his eyes. His fingers twitch.

"I am your God." she coolly drawls.

Silence. Her breathing stilled to near motionlessness. She hears him swallow and the sound makes her sick.

He reaches for the whiskey, his ring clinking against the bottle.

Mizu pulls the trigger.

His head jerks back violently, splattering the desk with blood.

Mizu stands in the blackness that surrounds her and watches his head loll to the side, the glass of whiskey slipping from his hand, crashing onto the floor.

Blood from her nose spatters the floor nearby.

Outside, fireworks explode, lighting up the sky.

The year must have changed.

Silently, she turns around, and walks away.

She does not look back; she does not look back again until she's at the door, reaching for the knob;

A bullet comes whizzing right past her left ear, and she turns around, furiously, hand on her gun, cocking;

There is a boy stood at a door, near her. He can't be more than seven. His hands, tremble as it raises a gun he's taken from one of the dead guards upstairs, no doubt, and aims it towards Mizu.

Shock floods her system; she did not know Violet has a son; had a son.

Mizu's hand curls, twitches. She hesitates; she hears his little breath, sharp in his throat; hears his feet scuffle against the floor. She feigns a smile, says, it's alright... it is alright, then pounces, easily removing the gun from his hand. She calmly, too calmly, pulls back the slide, locking it all the way to the rear, and empties the chamber, pouring the rounds out onto her open hand, before tossing the magazine aside. She lets the boy watch her, lets him look into her eyes as she loads her gun. Lets him memorize the shape of her face, sharp and horrible in the shadows; she blinks at him for a moment, blankly, silent, not seeing him but his father in those small, dark eyes of his, and, then, without so much as a second glance, walks away and into the night.

Into the cold night air, the wound in her side is continuously sending sharp jolts of pain right through her. She clutches at it, hissing, walking away swiftly, in control, slick, dark jacket soaked with blood. Distant sirens pierce the silence, and there is police crawling all over the streets around her. She turns a corner, heaving for breath; her steps are calm, measured, but quick, hurrying away. There’s an unmarked car idling in the alley—there always is, she doesn’t know where she gets them—

Mizu blinks and suddenly she’s beside her, a warm shape in the dark.

"Took you long enough." Geraldine says, breathless, her cheeks scarlet with rouge, cold from the wind lashing against her as she stands in the night, waiting for Smoke, and then, "come on- hurry..."

Mizu pours herself into the backseat, groaning. When Geraldine leans over to click her seatbelt into place, her hair—loose and spilling over her shoulders—falls against Mizu's torn cheek. She shuts her eyes, a pained sound dying off in her throat, breathing in the faint smell of warm skin and her perfume, something sour and sweet; smoke and lilacs.

When she opens her eyes again, Geraldine is sitting in the front, furiously driving away. The light of the GPS casts her face in strange half-light, occasionally sliced-through by the flash of the streetlamps through the window. She could be carved from marble, impossible and cold under her hands.

Not that she has ever touched her.

“I thought I defrauded more money for you than this,” Mizu says archly, feeling the car speed up dangerously. “No, Smoke." Geraldine sighs theatrically, exasperation in her voice. “No. You did not. shame on you. Hold on.” she shifts gear, and the car flies down the street, like a bullet, piercing the night.

“Right,” Mizu says, and lets her head loll back against the leather. She can feel the beginning of an ache, behind her eyes— her blood is hot in her veins, it's lava; live coals; she is still burning. “Yes.”

She stares out the window, letting the flickering street-lights blind her until she falls back into uneasy sleep.

Her phone rings, tearing her from her sleep.

She blindly reaches for it and answers, but does not speak.

She blinks through the pounding in her head; she is still in the car, it's still night outside; Geraldine is still driving.

She can't have been out of it for more than, what? Half an hour?

This isn't over. a cold, sharp voice on the other side of the line growls low in her ear.

Mizu does not answer. Geraldine flicks her eyes over to her, watches her through the rearview mirror. Her eyes are so bright; burning with something furious; fierce beauty and hunger,

Mizu does not know why she notices right then; she stares right back at her through the mirror, blindly, listens to the man on the other side of the line breathe, waiting for her answer;

when she does not give it to him, he says, fury in his throat, you think I'll let you walk away from this? you think we won't come after you with everything that we've got?

As she listens to the voice on the other end, Mizu remains still... stoic.

Yeah. Yes... I would not know how to respond to this either.

Mizu does not react. Geraldine's eyes in the mirror reflect the light; like flames, dark, carnelian; she blinks, a frown lining her face.

The man on the line is cut off by an intercom which squawks to life in the distance, a screaming voice reduced to panicked static. He laughs, and there is nothing in that voice; it's dead, cold. Empty.

Fowler. Can't be anyone but him.

But you betrayed him-

...and she betrayed us.

They are not our friends - Geraldine had said, laughter in her voice; silk; smooth, tickling her ear; no one is our friend.... everyone is our friend.

Why? What could we have possibly —

Realization washes over like a tidal flood, adrenaline bursting through her veins, ears ringing. Mizu cuts him short, hanging up; the line goes dead.

There is fury in her eyes now; and she says, move over, and Geraldine screams, says what the fuck, Smoke? as Mizu climbs her way into the front and hurriedly makes her switch seats with her so that she can drive down the harbor, furious, enraged, a hurricane, tearing the veins of the city open.

When they park outside the Cabinet, the flames have already consumed it whole, floor to ceilings, and Geraldine pours out of the car in shock, screaming her throat raw, sinking to her knees amidst the ashes. Her father looks down on them blindly, throat sliced open, hanging, dead and heavy, from the rooftop, swaying in the air.

And for a moment, only for a moment— Mizu forgets how to breathe.

#mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #john wick tag.#HHHHHHH IM SO not normal about john wick au mizu let me TELL YA.#blood cw #Seriously...so many content warnings it's PURE UNBRIDLED VIOLENCE you've been warned.#mizu finding out Actions have Consequences? you'll think she'll give a fuck? Stay Tuned to find out.#writing tag.

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gastertalkpoints · 30 days

Text

Minor blood/violence

*The barrier between reality is much thinner than you originally assumed

Back

Next (They seem to be getting closer)

#wd gaster #ask blog #gaster #the void #undertale gaster #creaturetale #undertale au #underverse #undertale ask blog #undertale #dr wingding gaster #the consequences of your actions #though keep going #they definitely are going to have fun #the man who speaks in hands

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teenagemutantninjatrauma · 5 months

Text

Some art for the newest chapter of the Actions Have Consequences AU!

Shoutout to Aza Glowborn, a reporter for the New Scientist magazine, who gets to interview the thought-to-have-died Doctor Stockman!

We’ve got the research center (Disregard the helicopter they don’t have helicopters in the future but it was fun to draw), Dr Baxter Stockman (IN THE FLESH. AGAIN!!) + the newest organic Mouser design + a wire pest, Yellow and Blue figuring out what the hell the research center’s lab is all about, and of course a Dragon Mouser ride!! Shoutout to that last one because that drawing is old as HELL you can tell by Yellow calling Bishop “PrezDad” instead of “Presidad” 🤭 Bishop is so totally normal and chill about being around Mousers again I swear. Believe me you guys

#tmnt 2k3 #tmnt fast forward #Actions Have Consequences AU #AHCAU #dark turtles #dark leonardo #dark michelangelo #agent bishop #Cody jones #Baxter stockman

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randomnameless · 14 days

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what do you think would realistically edelgerd's fate post AG?

We know Doylist wise she was Supreme Puppet'd to have her, somehow, survive (when we know how she reacts to military defeat in AM!) and removing all of her agency - Supreme Puppet was Puppet'd, so she cannot be hold accountable for what she did as Lobotogard, or with her regressed state, cannot be accountable the things she did with her mind intact.

I've already ranted about this special plot device to make sure the waifu escapes the axe and its sexist undertones, but damn if thinking about it to this day pisses me to no ends.

Faced with Regressed!Leader, Dimitri dgaf and moves on (or rather, away from her, reminiscing of AM - he has other things to do than to linger on his relationship with Supreme Leader).

I'd say -

Dimtri dgaf and leaves her to her own devices (which would be a nod to the "parley"? Now that Supreme Leader became one of the "weaks" what is she going to do? Bootstraps or rely on a support system she so much decried?) and move to Enbarr to put an end to the War.

But thinking in more serious terms?

His bannermen, friends and people wouldn't settle for anything else than Supreme Leader's death (maybe not on the gates on Enbarr?). She's the one who started this war and had so many people killed in her imperialist bid, so the only way Supreme Leader escapes death is with the Church.

Now, Supreme Puppet'd by Thales and maybe acknowledging Supreme Leader's second crust, Rhea might be more partial to her - she had been used as a plaything by Agarthans (hopefully she developped her racist tendencies after the experiments?) - and could see her as a victim.

On the other hand, she did start this war, and had more agency than expected given how she petitionned the CoS to war against the Agarthans who infiltrated her Empire - and yet, she still launched her attack on the monastery of her own free will.

Rhea is a compassionate person (Yuri still exists even after killing her knights!) so I think, with all things considered - Supreme Leader's status as a victim of Agarthans, Supreme Puppet and Lobotogard, but also, the war she declared and planned, sacking Garreg Mach, attacking the CoS both spiritually (the Southern Church thing was meant to be a direct "contradiction?" to what she preaches?) and martially, and MAGA > Peace - I'd say Rhea'd agree on not killing Supreme Leader, but at the only condition that she remains with the CoS, in something like her sentence will be to rebuild what she destroyed and mend the wounds she caused so that she might have a different outlook on Fodlan and its people (aka, not going all "i don't mind sacrificing them to reach my goals") when she will remember what she did/who she was, and/or will not become the same "tyrant" she was when she will "grow up" (mentally speaking?).

But that's at the only condition that she never gets to rule anything ever again or hold any kind of political power returning to Adrestia/Enbarr - if those conditions aren't met, she will be executed.

(and maybe to appease the people she's now supposed to work with, Rhea will lend her some old bottle of hairdye, maybe people will not see her as the former emperor who bled the continent for her whims, but as someone who is living a new life)

Rhea might thus "request custody" of Supreme Puppet and while the Kingdom might want her dead, the Church, as the main victim of the war, can have the last say (besides Dimitri might be relieved that Supreme Leader will not be executed), however, the Church asks to everyone present to tell their people that the "Supreme Leader who declared this war of unification died and is no more", maybe taking her crown and Aymr away, as proof she's "dead".

It sounds a bit too merciful coming from Rhea, when we see her in Tru Piss and with her history as Seiros the Warrior - but post!AG!Rhea imo is in a different mood, first of all, with Thales gone there are no people who will target Nabateans because of their race (so no genocide PTSD anymore?) and/or try to make new relics, and unlike the events of FE16, Rhea spent the last few years living with humans who demonstrated they could be trustworthy and actually helped her when she was in need (tfw Rhea doesn't know about Dimitro).

I can see her having more faith in humans and a future in Fodlan for everyone post!AG, as Dimitri and the Kingdom people seem to be trustworthy, than in FE16 when all of the events we play through in WC are basically triggering her genocide trauma (people hunting bones and crest stones, killing Jerry, turning her beloved wards in demonic beasts, some people targeting her for no plausible reason (unless the Western Church knew she had pointy ears?), Hresvelg becoming the new Nemesis, etc...)

That being said...

If Clout tries, during the epilogue, to take a shot at Rhea - when people are celebrating the end of the war - I cannot see things not turning sour for him.

Granted, if you want realism, Clout and GW cannot function because they expect the people involved to be completely stupid, but for this AU's sake, let's say Clout and Dimitro had their heart to heart in Zahrofl, he holds her at Failnaught range and demands her death/resignation/removal of her church.

If he shots and kills her (because Rhea would have dropped her guard, thinking she is surrounded by allies!), I cannot see anyone/anything preventing Claude from being dismembered/slaughtered in the seconds after Rhea's death - not even Dimitro because, hey, Clout said he will accept the consequences of his actions to "change" Fodlan, right? - by Church forces, Kingdom forces and, if we want to push the realism card, even Alliance forces (why the fuck did he do that? Maybe it's a weird doppelganger like those dark mages use! Or Erwin will behead him himself - sure this guy did that, but he doesn't represent the Alliance!).

In the chaos and confusion following Rhea's death, Supreme Leader is executed ("if she never started her war, nothing like this would have ever happened") and Fodlan is fucked when Sothis eventually pops up.

If Clout only holds Rhea at "Failnaught range" and she wonders wtf and asks him to explain - while the entire host of people from, again, the Kingdom, the CoS and KoS, the former BL and maybe some peeps from the GD and Leicester are there - Clout gives his bonker

"Who steals your freedom and gives you an endless list of duties and obligations simply because you have a Crest? Who forces you and your friends into a bunch of unwanted marriages and positions of power? The church even forbids any official contact with outside regions! Not exactly great for Faerghus, right? Being as close to Sreng and Albinea as you are."

reasons, Rhea's first reaction might be to crush him (because now she's on guard!) but if Dimitro says this is not a matter partaining to Faerghus and would rather stay aside (which would throw a wrench in Rhea's previous belief that humanity can be trusted again!) the CoS/Kos, Kingdom and Alliance people might just call crap and bullshit and debunk his baseless accusations (rekindling Rhea's faith in people and Fodlan?) from Annette telling him that they already trade with Albinea, Duscur generals and even Dedue telling him they witnessed the Church helping them regardless of their place of birth, Ingrid saying that her marriage to Glenn had not be organised or planned by the Church, but out of the affection they both had for each other and Ashe telling him those obligations and duties he seems to resent don't exist because he has a crest, but out of a genuine desire to help people.

Maybe we can add Judith wondering wtf is going on with Clout-boy, has he forgotten people get responsabilities and duties because they want them or because Nobility exists well beyond Fodlan's borders? "And I thought you had more common sense than this!"

A Goneril bannerman/loldier might add that the Archbishop asked them to treat Almyran as something else than nuisances and parasites when she came to visit and left with an Almyran kid in tow, but hey - they always attack them for no reason and create strife in Goneril for no reason, haven't they attacked just before the Academy closed?

Basically everyone debunking his claims, Clout realising that said claims were sprouted from his ass so he gets some tissue and wipes it clean.

Clout then relents (tfw no allies to support him) and the Alliance's roundtable finally vote to elect a branch member of the Riegan fam as head of the House - Clout leaves Failnaught and departs "somewhere far away".

(maybe he returns as Almyra's King later on, or as a crown prince, with a treaty/offer of peace, wishing for prosperity between the two lands).

-> all jokes aside and in a more serious setting, even with Dimitro not outwardly condemning him, Clout's course of action would be frowned upon by every party - Alliance included - and depending on his involvment, Dimitro himself might be challenged by his vassals/friends "Sure it's not about Faerghus' safety, but are we really going to let this guy target and ice and bring more chaos by eliminating our ally - who repaid our hospitality with kindness and supported our war efforts - when the Alliance refused to assist us when the Empire swore to Make Adrestia Great Again and warred against us?"

Granted, in this more serious setting, Dimitro doesn't exist because the plot doesn't bend backwards to accomodate Clout so...

Even if Clout doesn't try to ice Rhea asap and waits maybe 8 months after GM's recovery and the end of the war, I cannot see the Lords of the Alliance - when they can try to do "business as usual" with the former Adrestia lands - endorse a military campaing against the Church to, uh, decalcify Fodlan's current order to put YOLO in place. Clout suggesting this is basically handing to Erwin/anyone reason enough to depose him from his seat as Riegan's representative (the alliance has more to win with rebuilding Adrestia/Fodlan than to wage a pointless war that will alienate everyone and leave their backs open to an Almyran attack), and he either runs away to Almyra or dies in a pointless attempt to start a civil war/rebellion to garner troops to target the Church.

For sure this looks like an ideal "and everything ends good AU!" but in a more serious setting, where people have common sense and don't suddenly hold idiot plot balls to make sure Clout seems to have a point... his POV doesn't hold under scrutiny and no one can normally follow him, unless they have another agenda (Make Leicester Great Again?)

#anon #replies #3 nopes #tbh if you want a serious setting in Nopes #erase GW from the plot #while I can see an alliance with Adrestia I can't see the Federation existing without serious civil unrest in Leicester #we bow to no king and no emperor cannot be overthrown in one night by Clout who listened to Barney #in b4 Supreme Leader when she recovers her memories still want to throw a continental war to unify the world #it will depend on how far in MAGA + lizards bad Supreme Leader was before the experiments #Rhea's anger at Supreme Leader is qualmed in this AG AU bcs she realises Supreme Leader was puppet'd by Agarthans #and yet actions have consequences #let her heal and help the ones she maimed #what happens in Adrestia though? I guess it's under Faerghus' jurisdiction #and it either becomes a hell hole or is a temporary hell hole until some random becomes Emperor or tris to make a government #maybe a republic? Even if we know how they end in the FE verse...#sorry anon i disgressed on clout when you asked about supreme puppet but #they go hand in hand in this game #and i happened on a fanfic i'm not fond of so here goes

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