#he did eventually come to regret the war crimes!!!
Text
The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR
Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.
Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.
Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.
War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.
Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.
The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.
Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?
Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.
Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care.
The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.
#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#pro nesta archeron#nesta archeron#tamlin#feyre archeron#anti rhysand#anti feysand#anti nessian#anti inner circle#anti ic#anti e/riel#sjm critical#pro tamlin
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok, something that fandom needs to understand about Iroh's character: he is not a saint. He is a messy, morally grey character. He did fucked up things during his time in the war. He quite literally shows regret for his part in the siege of Ba Sing Se, particularly because it caused the death of his son, Lu Ten. That is the entire point of Iroh's character. Yes, the show could have done a better job in certain areas with Iroh, but the point is that he eventually came to understand that the war and the Fire Nation was wrong, and that he was trying to make up for that in his own way throughout the show. Did he go about it the right way at times? No. But the point is, he tried to do better. He tried to become a better man. Saying that he never committed any war crimes because he was "too honorable," and whatever else this fandumb can come up with to defend Iroh's actions during the war, shows that you actually don't like his character at all. Rather, you like the version of his character that you made up in your head.
212 notes
·
View notes
Text
Queer books, day 13/30
All right, ready to dive back into the seedy world of M/M romance novels after yesterday's unnecessarily heartfelt diversion?
This book is like...James Bond meets and shags a Jewish Oscar Wilde. Also there's some plot about blackmail. It's set in the middle of the belle époque, so right around 1900, at a time when many noble families suddenly realized that they weren't quite as wealthy as they once had been but were still saddled with large country houses, trendy London homes, big payrolls, etc. (This is also the plot of Downton Abbey.)
Anyway, one thing I enjoy about KJ Charles is that she writes Jewish characters into her stuff. The first one I came across, in Band Sinister, was only a side character, but...I had this sudden revelation that I didn't really ever see Jews represented in fiction that wasn't set around WWII. In the same way one could get the sense that there are no queer people before Stonewall except for Walt Whitman and Oscar Wilde, it's weirdly easy to get the feeling that Jews only really existed from about 1929 to 1946. (And in the works of Michael Chabon and the film The Big Lebowski, which is the best film ever.)
Daniel da Silva is the Jewish character here--yes, he's Sephardic, which is both accurate for migration patterns (England got a bunch of Jews following the Spanish Inquisition) and unusual in itself, as Jews seem to be primarily northern European when portrayed in fiction. He's a poet and a spy, brilliant and mercurial, not much of a fighter but very good at what he does. He meets a guy named Captain Archie Curtis, who is a war vet who lost several fingers to a poorly manufactured gun. They solve a crime (and do sex--did I mention that? a lot of sex).
This is a sendup of Victorian/Edwardian novels like She by H. Rider Haggard--explicitly, Captain Curtis is like the nephew/adopted son of Sir Henry Curtis and his "friend"(?) Captain Good, who are characters in King Solomon's Mines. And it has a lot of tropes, if you are a trope-reading person. We get: big gay awakening, sex or death, arguably a kind of grumpy/sunshine thing, attack lesbians as background characters, and a whole last stand/never tell me the odds type of thing. Also, da Silva comes back in the Will Darling books as an older and wiser man, and I wish we'd gotten more of him.
I read this book last summer during a period of about 54 hours when we didn't have electricity. I should have been saving the power in my phone, but instead I was reading this. Eventually, I took the kids to their grandmother's house (because it was July and 90 degrees, and SHE had power) and finished reading this in her air conditioned guest room. No regrets. 10/10, go read it.
#30 days of books#kj charles#think of england#daniel da silva#queer books#pride#lgbtq books#book review
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok, so. marriage of convenience au where raven and svensen get married after nato so they cannot be forced to flip on each other during the Trial(tm)
and then they just don't get a divorce after because svensen doesn't really care and marriage is too good an excuse to cover for some of the shit they get up to (and the medical stuff/emergency contact list etc.). raven, however comes up with every reason under the sun why they absolutely shouldn't get divorced whenever anyone else brings it up. because.
because he is emotionally involved and unreasonably attached to his partner in war crimes and damn if he hasn't been thinking (read: fantasising) about this exact scenario for years. so he's not about to let go, even though he is literally the only one with skin in the game.
svensen "only" cares for him as a friend, sometimes with benefits but he's first and foremost a pragmatist and it's all about convenience to him
raven/bobby does still happen (initially only to make svensen jealous but that fails because he's genuinely happy for raven), and raven does have Real, Actual feelings for him, but they don't get married (they can't because raven refuses to let go, he's not going to prioritise the man he loves over the man he's fought and bled beside, even if he could move on romantically if he did because he'd still view it as a form of betrayal and raven would Never betray svensen. it's just not happening) and they don't have a daughter.
bobby eventually breaks up with raven, he refuses to play second fiddle to raven's old war buddy—though he does respect the hell out of the man on the field.
there is a lot of resentment involved, and svensen is mostly confused, he thought raven was happy and ready to get settled, although divorce still didn't come up, but he's there to comfort raven through it all in his usual, gruff way. raven goes back to being miserable. what can you do?
it just goes on like this, they are just two best friends Who Are Also Married, and raven is tragically in love with svensen who leans on him throughout his various unrequited crushes, though only as a buddy would, not in a spouse sort of way lmao raven isn't that lucky.
over the years, raven bitches and moans to kozlov who he has sworn to secrecy and who doesn't want to hear about any of this, no, thank you, but his loyalty to raven supercedes everything else in his life. alas, he is forced to endure. they're all so very loyal to the core and it fucks them constantly but like hell they'll give this up.
eventually, svensen considers divorce because he gets serious enough about someone (take your pick of who of my favoured svensen ships would actually have the balls to demand this). raven denies him because they said Til Death Do Us Part and he meant it and he expects svensen to mean it as well (and he's ultimately selfish enough to justify this to himself lol they are both selfish people when it comes down to it).
so svensen grins and bears it and all of it is terribly toxic (marriage of convenience HAHAHA). what raven doesn't consider, though, is the possibility that svensen's partner concedes on the marriage and still cares enough to stick around anyway because they're not here to build a family, they're here for svensen and, fuck, they'd be forced to have raven in their life either way so does it really matter all that much? no.
raven still smokes too much and gets cancer, but he also gets his wish because they never divorce and when he finally dies, he's still svensen's legal husband, and svensen continues to be there for him until his final breath and he doesn't regret anything but he also kind of regrets everything.
he certainly doesn't die content.
svensen does not get married again after raven's death (though he does manage to keep his relationship going in spite of himself) and kozlov takes raven's secrets to the grave with him, so he never finds out how fucking inconvenient this all really was for raven or how deeply he felt for him.
#not including this in evidence in any way shape or form because id have to rewrite shit. i'd have to make svensen more oblivious for one#but this is a fun idea to play around with in my head like a rubik's cube and it stems from evidence-related hcs#making these two suffer is fun for me#toxic power couple from hell (unrequited)#the marriage of convenience angle was only discussed on like two streams i watched but it's still stuck in my brain#i forgot what the guy is called svensen actually got married to rip#but it wasn't raven or any of the other np guys#he might have played in 1.0 though idfk
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy have a response for ur spooktober!! i was thinking a daphne greengrass x werewolf reader, like their in 6th gear and r is having a hard time cuz she’s always tired from transforming and the upcoming war. thx so much!!!:)
A/N: Hey! Thanks for requesting! I miss writing for Daphne and Pansy so much, I think they are severely underestimated characters. I love the idea with depicting Daphne’s relationship with Y/N in the light of the upcoming War. Hope you enjoy and like it:)
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: mentions of the War
_________
Acrid! Everything screamed acrid in this very room of people, setting every fiber of your body on a vile dither between retching and running away from the throng, concealing yourself in the dormitory where the bilious feeling wouldn't reach you anymore.
Sweat, meaty effluviums, and that blaring laughter.
That blaring laughter that perversely made you want to shove your head in the wad of polystyrene and scream until everybody quelled. Instead, all you did was sit at the very bench in the Great Hall, inundated and dogged, barely touching your food that tasted like sawdust in your mouth anyway. You never tore your gaze away from that bloody crevice in the middle of the table but you were keenly aware that another pair of eyes was beadily following your every movement.
"Attention everyone!" instructed the shrieking voice of Alecto Carrow who you had learned to detest since the beginning of the 6th Year. She and Amycus were a menace, really, opting for assailing as many Muggleborns there were in the school as possible. No wonder - the thought slipped to your mind - that so many had decided to flee; in the light of all the attacks that had transpired over those few months, you were sure it was the most rational decision that could have been made. "We’d like to introduce some new rules to you all, ay? It’s come to our notice that some of you have been taking part in some underground activities against your new authority.” While saying so, she made a hand gesture, tacitly elucidating it was her and Amycus she was hinting on. “By saying underground, I mean illicit. Whoever therefore decides to continue with such behavior, shall be punished, yeah? And will regret putting oneself into that. Little pieces of shit-”
“Lady Carrow...” It was Snape who wanted to butt in but unsuccessfully; you weren’t sure whether he realized how ridiculous it had sounded to call her anything in terms of ‘lady’, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“-didn’t think we would have found out about little crimes, did ya? Well fucking wrong!” She said that in one breath, onerously, and after doing so she slumped back to her upholstered chair, downing half of her goblet in one gulp and swabbing her lips with a sleeve. As much as she had tried to keep herself unflappable at the beginning of her monologue, she had lost her temper in the flash of seconds. You wondered, subconsciously, whether Snape still would have called her ‘lady’ after that.
The murky air settled over the entire room, students swooning with dismay; and suddenly, you didn’t feel like eating anymore at all.
Overwhelmed, you gathered your things and hurtled out of the room, trying to shove that emetic churning feeling away. With every step, you got more and more certainty that either your dormitory or a common room, or any other place in the building basically, was the last spot you wanted to be bound to right now. And so instead of careening over to the dungeons, your feet steered you over to the seventh floor, eventually landing on the Astronomy Tower, where tranquility and lack of students’ presence could be found.
You sat at the very brink of the gneiss ledge, tangled in between the metal barrels. You abhorred, truly, the new reigning in Hogwarts; you wondered whether it was ever going to have its cessation. Your friends have been engulfed with terror, escaping the school’s territories at any possible instance; the only ones who had yet remained in the vicinity were Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne.
The distinct steps suddenly reverberated in the corridor and in mere moments your body was overcome with rigidness. You braced yourself mentally for the upcoming; was it Carrows yet again doing rounds around the school in the mere hope of inflicting retribution for entertainment? Being a Slytherin in the school had lost its perks since the beginning of the 7th Year; there was no demarcation anymore, Pureblood or not, and no one cared for a spillage of magical blood anymore. But never have you actually thought of the idea that you might be one among the other mass of Carrows’ victims.
God, you hoped that it was only your head driving you mad.
The door to the Astronomy Tower flung and you nearly swooned, feeling an overwhelming relief when it was only Daphne who stood in the middle of the frame.
“Oi, there you are!” she proclaimed with a beam, her hands flying in the air as if in ballistic motion. “You rushed out of the Great Hall so quickly, I was worried something had happened to you.”
“You nearly scared the death of out me, Daphs,” you said, truthfully, still clutching the barrels ever so tightly and glancing at her over your shoulder. The walnut leather satchel with all her books was still fixed around her torso. “I thought it was Carrows hunting their pray again.”
She gave you a waning smile. “Luckily, just me.”
With that, she flumped next to you, her rangy legs hanging loosely from the ledge. Glancing over at her from that angle, you thought her angelic; it’s not like you hadn’t perceived her allure before. Yet here, with that moonlight beaming on her countenance and acutely defining her luscious lips and prominent cheekbones, her navy blue eyes reflecting the hovering stars in the sky... you definitely felt that zsa-zsa-zsu feeling dancing in your stomach. So perplexed by this realization, you hadn't even registered she had started talking again.
“Hey, did you hear me?”
“Ummm... sorry,” you said, flushing all of the sudden. “What were you saying?”
“I asked if you were okay.”
You glanced at her suspiciously. “Yeah. I mean, this entire situation with Carrows is wearing me out but I’m coping.”
“I don’t mean... I don’t mean the upcoming War, though this thought is dispiriting too in a way. But I mean, your latest transformations. I’ve seen you in the Great Hall, during your lessons, and breaks. I don’t want to be hasty in setting presumptions but you seem to not be dealing so well with that burden.”
Subconsciously or not, she caught your hand which now no longer resided on your thigh and instead on the stone cold floor, and for the first time she looked you in the eyes; really in the eyes, as if the surrounding world had abruptly slowed down. They were enigmatically enticing in a way, and swirling with sundry emotions - tenacity, curiosity, but especially... empathy.
Despite your best attempts not to, thinking it a callow thing to do in the shade of the upraised topic, your thoughts veered off to the contemplation of how pleasantly the heat of her hand managed to keep you warm in the vista of frosty winter. And did she mention that she had been watching you in the classes and Great Hall?; just a mere thought of it filled your stomach with a fit of butterflies again.
“Well...yes, it’s been a bit tiring lately. I think it’s this time of the year when my senses become heightened - my hearing it’s twice the volume it has been before, I see everything in great detail, and I can taste every bit of the ingredient in the meal. Don’t eat Pumpkin Pasties, by the way,” you said, and Daphne giggled at the last bit. “My parents have told me that this ability may come over time, you know, as a standard addition to being a werewolf. But I’ve just never assumed t-that it could come so quickly, you know.”
There was a pause for a moment, Daphne’s eyes still boring holes in you while you riveted your gaze to the dotted sky. Before however, you were able to pick up a novel topic, Daphne’s voice echoed again, this time more concerned.
“Can I help?”
Still, without looking at her, you unsurely placed your head on her shoulder to which she only reacted with a slight tilt of her own head. And while looking at the sky, observing and enjoying every bit of Daphne’s presence with her vanilla fragrance caressing your nostrils, you finally uttered:
“Just be here for me.”
“That always.”
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Worst Magnificent Century takes explanation part 1
I promised I would do this so here it is.
Süleyman was a good person
At no point in this show was he ever a good person. Even in season 1 he was cruel to Mahidevran, emotionally abusive towards Mustafa, infantilised Hürrem and not only killed Viktoria’s husband at their wedding but he also eventually raped her. It is absolutely not a stretch that he became who he did by the end of the show.
Ibrahim was a good person
He used Matrakci and took advantage of him. Both in forcing Matrakci to be the one to kill Viktoria and in using him for the sham Nigar marriage scheme. Without any consideration for the cost of this for Matrakci. Who was supposedly his friend. He cheated on Hatice and told her to her face that he didn’t regret it. He uses Nigar for his own ego and separated her from Esmanur. And he killed Leo in an extremely sadistic way.
Barbarossa was a hero
From the Giulia Gonzaga incident, Firuze saying that he picked her up and Nurbanu being brought in by him it’s pretty clear that Barbarossa was heavily involved in both war crimes and trafficking women to bring to the harem. The fact that Magnificent Century tried to sell him as a hero was honestly laughable and extremely discordant with a show that at least tried to be somewhat aware of the tragedy of the women who had been enslaved.
Hürrem was a girlboss heroine
Hürrem was never going to be this type of character. Not with the things that her historical counterpart has been accused of doing. And with the fascination that pop culture has with the girlboss villain archetype. Besides especially in the final 2 seasons the show sides squarely with Mustafa over her. Rather Hürrem is a deconstruction and arguably even at times a subversion of the girlboss villain trope. The fact that she is as worth rooting for as she is is purely accidental.
Hürrem was a wicked stepmother girlboss villain
I just said she’s a deconstruction of the girlboss villain trope. But that’s what she is: a deconstruction of it. There is a lot more complexity to her than this trope and she has her fair share of redeemable qualities. Also, it is also good to contextualise her actions rather than simply agreeing with or condemning them. She isn’t a cartoon villain and should not be treated as such.
Mahidevran was an evil villain
This holds even less water than in Hürrem’s case. Because Mahidevran isn’t even based on a villainous archetype. She’s not even an antagonist considering how much screentime and sympathy the show has for her, even at the beginning. Because she gets more of that than most antagonists would. Instead what she is is the ‘set aside woman’ character type but as an antiheroine. Also for all her faults and misdeeds Mahidevran just isn’t evil.
Mahidevran was just an unproblematic martyred heroine
She had her character flaws and did her fair share of bad things. Like I just said, she’s an antiheroine.
Hürrem had nothing to worry about if Mustafa took power
As much as the show tries to sell this idea in the later seasons, it just isn’t true. Mustafa loved his brothers and would not want to fulfil the fratricide law. But he would be under pressure from his mother and the army to do so. Besides if he wasn’t outright forced to comply, either of them or the secret organisation could easily have had his brothers killed without his prior knowledge or consent. His coming to power absolutely represented a risk to their lives.
Mustafa’s death was Mahidevran’s fault
She did everything she could to protect him. Blaming the mother for the death of her son is highly unfair.
Hürrem’s sons’ deaths were her fault
She also did everything she could to protect them. Even in Cihangir’s case it’s an oversimplification to the point of unfair to blame her. Sending Mehmet to Manisa instead of Amasya made sense as that was a strategic advantage and his death made her decision re. Selim and Bayezid make a lot of sense. Besides she did almost everything someone conceivably could have done in her position to protect them from their own rivalry.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok so hi guys, I wanted to start posting some writing on here because why not? I found this old start to a book I was working on so I just wanted some feedback on it I suppose (it’s really cheesy bare with me- it’s promit correct grammar too tbh).
Warning ⚠️: Blood, crime, country depression? Basically just basic detective type esc
The Window
The cold air whisked through the broken windows as she stared down at the man, the pool of blood spilling out from underneath him. She had been so close to grabbing him; but he took matters into his own hands and ended his life before she could end his so called “career”. As she stared down, feeling an almost sense of sympathy she heard a voice behind her “ Bernadette do not pay any respect to him, he was a terrible man who did even more terrible things.” She recognized the voice of her childhood best friend, Jaques, who she ended up working with, solving crimes around France. She looked up at him with a look of regret washed upon her face, what she felt it for she didn’t really know, but it was prominent. Jasques took in the look on her face and his gaze slightly softened, as he opened his arms welcoming an embrace. “ I know this unfortunately did not turn out how we anticipated but you can not blame yourself.” Bernadette looked up at him and nodded her head slightly, as if to agree yet not fully understand. They walked out hurriedly, in an attempt to leave before the officers arrived on the scene. Though they knew that there was a slim chance anything would even happen to them due to the lasting effects of the war- there was an increase in illegal activity yes, but the economy was in a shocking state prevailing the ability to continue to chase and hold. The country was completely devastated. But the two were unknown heroes in a sense, working an underground private investigating business. Hurrying through the streets as a cold hard rain pounded against the sidewalk. Entering their flat they took off their coats, hanging them next to the ticking stopwatch hanging on the wall. Bernadette slowly walks over to the window, staring out at the view of the Eiffel Tower through the soft falling snow, changing rapidly from the pouring rain just an hour before. She sighed, thinking about how peaceful it looked, an evil deception to what the world outside was actually like. She turned around and picked up her violin, releasing the strong emotions into the bow, letting a sad beautiful cry escape from the instrument. Jaques stared and quietly watched from the kitchen doorway, he loved her music; it was one of the only times she let herself be vulnerable and he aspired to keep it that way. In a sense that he could never be emotionally vulnerable himself but was always ready for anyone else. Eventually the cry stopped, as the sun set behind the clouds leading into the darkness of night. Bernadette crawled into bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and letting her mind wander the mountains of thoughts. Eventually drifting into a restless sleep leading deep into the depths of the night. She awoke quite early the next morning, grabbing her coat and practically running out the door. She walked along the snowy sidewalks as she stared at the people opening their shops for the day. Coming up on her usual spot something triggered in her brain telling her to turn back, but the curious urge was even stronger as she saw something sticking out of the snow. As she knelt down to pick it up she saw it was a singular cream glove. Stained with the maroon metallic scents of blood. She shoved it in her pocket and quickly turned on her heels, walking swiftly away feeling as if someone was staring her down. Hurrying to lock the door to her apartment; her heart pounding against her chest. Jaques steps out of his room, taking in the apparent fear on her face as she hurriedly walks over and closes the blinds. “Where were you, what happened?” he asks, the concern lacing his voice. Bernadette turns- piercing her eyes through him, staring off into nothing. “ I believe I found another case”. She pulls the glove out of her pocket and hands it to him. “ Where ever did you find this?” The surprise in his tone is relevant. “ I went for a walk and was going to my usual spot to sit and let my mind wander but I found this and got a bad feeling so I came back and-”
“ It’s alright, take a breath and slow down. We will figure out what’s happening. Now did you see anything else at the scene?” his voice cuts her off. “ No, I did not see anything else but when I was walking back this terrible feeling of dread washed over me as if I was being watched.”. Almost if it was on cue, a loud banging comes from the door followed by the doorknob rattling. The two look at each other in shock and run to the closet tucked in the corner of Bernadettes room and lock it; it was agreed months prior when they moved in that it was the safest place in the house. The crashing of the door being slammed open rings through the house. Deep voices could be heard from the living room, though not fully being able to make out what they were saying it clearly wasn’t good. One seemed to be more controlling and the leader, while the other was submissive and following the directions of the other. *Bang*, another loud crash echos. The voices grow loud and angry full of panic, soon fading away as they leave. Bernadette and Jaques exit the closet, going into the living room. Shock filled their faces as they took in the sight. The place was ransacked as if the men were looking for something extremely important. Bernadette’s breath catches in her throat as she looks over to the corner, where a small child’s glove lay. The same cream color as the one she found earlier, just smaller. As she takes a closer look she can see that the small glove is also coated in the shiny metallic coating of blood. Questions fill her mind as she finally takes in what has just happened. Why did they leave this here? Who are they? What do they want? Who’s blood is it? Were there multiple victims? As these race through her mind Jaques turns and sees what had broke, an old antique vase that they had for years. Along with that lay a note with an address on it, nothing else. “Well I think I have an idea of where we should start” he states, turning to face Bernadette, the horror still present on her face as she turns to face him holding the small bloody glove in her hand. “I believe anywhere to help would be a good idea just now” she says, serious and panicked.
- So there’s that, I know the separation is really awkward but it’s my first time ever doing this so I’m trying to figure it out 😭
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
SARA I need you to tell me about your characters, please scream at me, I am that *slams credit card aggressively on desk* meme, okay, so-- Who amongst your muses would want to trade fates/background/canon (while retaining their memories) with another muse of yours? Which muse is most likely to try time-travel if given the opportunity and which least? Which muse is most likely to develop grudges much later after something has occurred/after pondering it over a while? And which muse is most likely to misunderstand regret and grudge for the other? Which muse is most likely to say 'yes' to immortality/mortality (depending on what the given muse is already equipped with) and which would be most likely to later regret the choice? And YUSH THAT'S ALL love you ♥ (feel free to skip over any OR ALL if you'd rather~)
THESE ARE SUCH AMAZING QUESTIONS OH MY GOD??? LENA????? WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR HUGE GENIUS BRAIN PLS SDFHGJTUYVJFSISHBFHFBVDSFJ HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH THIS NICHE SPECIFIC MAGNIFICENT STUFF OMG I WILL GLADLY ANSWER ALL OF THESE, BEAR WITH ME
*cuffs sleeves, makes coffee, cracks knuckles*
Life-trading:
Adonis would want to trade lives with Althea. He would retain his love of art and literature -- not only that, but also make it his livelihood -- and his fascination with men, except now it would be socially acceptable and legal in all countries. And he’ll do you one better. He’ll give up his memories, too. Althea wouldn’t agree to this trade, though.
Ian would love to trade lives with Jude -- but only if Ivan could come. He and Ivan could become Jude and Malik, siblings with lots of education and vigilante freedom. They would also have a father. Ian wouldn’t wish his own life on Jude, though, so even if he could trade, he wouldn’t.
And finally...Cass would love to trade lives with Mahogany. And this is where things get interesting and controversial: He definitely doesn’t want Mahogany’s memories or her trauma. But he does want the life Mahogany has where she’s free of her parents. So Cass would love to be Mahogany -- rich and beautiful with the world between her hands, with a confidence that could beat narcissus and the ability to do whatever she wants -- but...without the ugly stuff. He would want Mahogany’s life after she had killed her parents, and he wouldn’t want any of her memories or consequences of her crimes. Mahogany, of course, would rather die than trade lives with Cass.
Time-travel:
The most likely muse to time-travel is Hailey. She loves Xander and has grown used to a life of hunting monsters and saving people-- but she would give it all up in a heartbeat if she could travel back in time to when her mother was alive, save her, and spare herself and Jace the life of killing and dodging death.
The least likely muse to time-travel is Damian. He’s already been alive for so long. He’s seen enough and felt enough and it’s all just...enough. He’s not even sure he would go back in time to save someone he loves or stop a war; he is not delusional or desperate enough to think his attempts wouldn’t cause greater tragedy. So no, while he hates everything he’d witnessed and misses everyone he’s lost, he wouldn’t dare go back.
Grudges:
All the muses either hold grudges immediately or are too smart to hold them at all -- but there’s only one person who would develop a grudge over time: Jude. She’s a sweet and generally forgiving person, but when someone wrongs her or harms her family... Well, this is kind of a direct product of her forgiving nature. She tries to forgive -- tries really hard -- so eventually, after trying to close a stab wound with bandaid after bandaid, Jude’s bitterness will jump in. This has happened with her mother and a lot of her cousins. That being said, Jude holding a grudge against you is honestly as scary as a mouse holding a toothpick.
Grudge vs Regret:
Adonis. I’m honestly not 100% sure what this question means, but the way I understand it is which muse is most likely to think that regretting someone is a grudge against them, and a grudge against someone is just regretting you knew them. (Does that make sense?) Adonis is the most likely to mix up those emotions because not only is his emotional intelligence very low, but his tendency to self-blame will very often turn a grudge into regret. (ex: “The fact that this person hurt me isn’t their fault; it’s mine. I regret getting hurt by what they did.”)
...and finally!
(Im)mortality:
Damian would jump on the chance to be mortal again faster than the speed of light. He’s always hated immortality, and the fact that he’s destined to live forever hugely contributes to his depression and suicidal ideation. The world is terrible and terrifying and he hates it-- he hates having to live wars in many forms over and over and over until either someone kills him or the universe comes to an end.
On the other hand, Mahogany would like to become immortal. How willing she is to do it would depend on the price. She is a businesswoman, after all.
#// thank you so much for this ask!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!#// and i'm so sorry it took me so long to answer it!#// you're the BEST LENA#;; received envelopes [ANSWERS]#muse mail. adonis#muse mail. jude#muse mail. mahogany#muse mail. cass#muse mail. hailey#muse mail. damian#muse mail. ian#muse mail. althea#mythvoiced
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello <3!!! i found this around and i just wanted to try some of it out … i didnt answer some questions that i didnt get much of a drive for but maybe eventually ill come back to it :D
meme for roleplay muns by @/roleplaymemeworld
what is your favorite trope to roleplay?
one of my wildest little roleplays ive done was with a good friend of mine on a discord server - between badgerstar and luckystar, leaders of two different clans throughout the wacky world of warrior cats. a pair that's known each other throughout their entire lives, and never wouldve suspected either they themselves or that the other would rise to the title that they have now. luckystar is the kind of cat who'd always make sure to stop by whenever the gatherings would happen - she'd always come up to him and pull badgerstar aside, she'd always pop by and check in whenever she saw him on the borders and out in the territory … she'd always try to make sure things were going alright for him. she'd always try to make sure he didn't have anything to be upset about, or to be sad about … and eventually, its probably one of my favorite kind of ideas whenever it comes to a forbidden romance. luckystar had plenty of cats around her - she had a family, she had kits, she had her friends and parents in the stars … but he had none of it. he messed up plenty of times in his life, and when their forbidden relationship one day led to fights and wars between their two mighty clans - in the end of it all, when their tales both came to an end, luckystar had a little bit of a choice to make.
she had her family, her loves and her friends she could be with. cats who had oh so much ruined by this feline that only she seems to understand
and she decided to step away from them to be with him. to be with badgerstar. after all, she got to live her whole life with these cats - but she never got to be with her true love, and now in the unlife, she'll have her time to finally be with him. she'll always be there whenever the rest of the stars avoid him for what he did in his life, for how he acts and his crimes that he regrets… she's always been there whenever he's alone, and now she follows him on to every end of the stars.
we havent got to finish it, but… god its something i really want to try some more. its one of the things i love the most, and it got onto an aspect of luckystar that's truly amazing to me - because, for how selfless and loving she was towards him…
she had the option to try and redeem badgerstar in the stars. but she finally decided, after all of this time, after all of her lives - to have someone to herself.
that's absolutely the sort of thing i love the most and smthn i wanna do again someday … badluck <3
who are your longest roleplay friends?
we don't meet as often as we used to, but a little group chat im in with 4 other people has some of the closest friends ive made through roleplay! two of them i met about 4 years ago through pokemon roleplay, and the other 2 i found through the very same warrior cats server and got to bond with before we started gaming together … we dont rlly roleplay too much anymore, but its been a blast and we still vibe quite often with each other!! i wouldnt say i have really many stories that have gone on for that long though,, i havent had many roleplays that have lasted all too long and its so hard to find people that do warrior cats stuff PFF, although i hope eventually that i can say smthn fits this part of things!
do your friends outside the internet know your roleplay?
ohh absolutely not lol … i feel like they would be accepting, but im terrified to say absolutely anything about it to anyone irl. i dont have the confidence to mention it to anyone, the closest thing ive gotten to it was my sister being in a roleplay server for a few days a couple years back - im 99% sure she does roleplay, but most defo not like me lol
why do you write?
writing has gotten me where i am if im being honest. i dont think i would be anywhere near as good as i am at ideas like game design or just making stories in general or programming if it wasnt for roleplay, and i feel like id be a lot less interesting of a person without it wfhuegih?? ive learned so much through this community and its changed my life over the past 6 years or so, i dont know where id be without it! it prepared me for where id end up going, writing funky lil mew mews…
do you welcome duplicates of your character or stay away from them?
YES!!! I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT SM…. i really like seeing peoples interpretations of my mysteries and lil ideas, yet ive only ever found once or twice an idea that actually had someone else using one of my ocs - i absolutely love the thought of it … a lot of my ocs are the sorts of ocs that i not only rlly love to play around with, but are also what id ADORE to roleplay with!
is there one trope you can’t stand?
i really … don't like things with romance and other sort of points where one person is supposed to be superior to the other, like love triangles n whatnot. its something i have a lot of past trouble with and probably would only do with a group i REALLY trust not to take it ooc like??? lord
what is your opinion on writing smut?
have your boundaries, dont force it on people - but i don't see why it would be much of a problem, especially with someone you trust and whatnot! it's a good way to explore!
do you need music/noise to write or do you prefer silence?
i almost never write with music or whatnot ,,, i am SO BAD at writing with it LMAO i am very easily distracted and while i might be able to vibe with some lil things without lyrics like rain and little tunes, anything more and i wont rlly be able to do it very well
i absolutely do play music before writing some stuff though, i get inspiration from it but definitely not while actively writing
what is your opinion on tagging triggers?
always if youre asked, its not that hard to do! otherwise i try my best for the more obvious stuff, but in general there isnt much i write about without intentionally nulling it down a little with things like more gorey writing or whatnot
do you prefer long or short replies and why?
in between really! i am absolutely capable of both but long replies i feel like depend so much on motivation that makes my writing a lot more infrequent, while short replies is a lot harder to make a story out of …. but something in between would absolutely be amazing, a nice compromise between smthn that takes more work and something that can be done in a short amount of time <3
the main time im fine with short replies is things like one shots … ive never found someone to do things like just little romance or adventure one shots at night with to pass the time but i feel like thatd be the time for it! i adore the idea a ton though <3
thats the main stuff ive got the time for rn at least!!! maybe ill post more, but also was inspired by @kittimuses to write this :D thought this would be a nice little thing to fill out and try!!!
#warrior cats#warriors roleplay#wcrp#text#i write too much tbh imso sorry#roleplay#mango clay deos and solstice my beloved <3#we dotn talk about horsegorse tho that man is cursed even if hes handsome
0 notes
Photo
✰ it’s time to wake up, AHSOKA TANO, you’ve been in cryosleep for too long and the people of STAR WARS miss you. when you went into slumber you were FORTY FIVE years old, your pronouns are SHE/HER, and you VOLUNTEERED for the cambria program. now that you’ve awoken, your position as a TACTICAL ADVISOR is waiting for you. remember, the cambria one thanks you!
THE BASICS;
NAME: ahsoka tano
ALIAS(ES): fulcrum, ashla, snips (by anakin)
AGE: 45
PRONOUNS & GENDER: she/her, cis woman
BIRTHDAY & ZODIAC: born 36 bby, unknown.
FACECLAIM: tessa thompson.
AESTHETICS: a weapon wielded in each hand, a quick defensive and determined resolve, creating a new path when the old isn’t what it appears, a soft heart under war hardened skin.
A DEEPER LOOK;
BACKGROUND: ahsoka comes from after her appearances the mandalorian and the book of boba fett - she fought through the clone wars as anakin skywalker’s padawan beginning at the age of 14 and was learning at the jedi temple before that. eventually, she decided to leave the jedi order after being accused of a crime she didn’t commit and causing her to have doubt in the order and the republic. she narrowly survived order 66 and spent much time in hiding, though worked with bail organa to help set up the beginnings of the rebellion and worked with a group of rebels for sometime. this led her to cross paths with darth vader, and realize who he was. ahsoka since continued to both fight and do what she could, helping others along the way.
WEAPONS: ahsoka dual wields two white lightsabers. she’s had blasters in the past but doesn’t make a habit of having them on her.
POWERS/ABILITIES/SKILLS: lightsaber mastery & dual wielding, force sensitivity, jedi training, combat. piloting, leadership, mechanics, and multilingual.
GREATEST STRENGTH: her determination has shaped much of her life - both as a padawan trying to prove herself and master her abilities, and later after the fall of the jedi in her persistence to continue on and help others where she could.
GREATEST WEAKNESS/FLAW: ahsoka’s been called reckless many times in her life, and while age has helped tame this side of her, she’s still prone to occasionally leap before she looks - not helped by the simmering feelings of regret and hurt that have tainted her life.
ONE FEAR: that she could have done more, and that by turning away from the jedi when she did, she’s somehow at least partially responsible for the pain that followed.
ONE HOPE: that they may all still be given a second chance and things could change.
HEADCANON(S): ahsoka, through working with bail organa, had the opportunity to meet leia while she was still young and work out just who she was. she made a point over the years to stop by and check on her when she can, though was never able to tell leia the truth until after the fall of the empire.
THE QUESTIONNAIRE;
HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT BEING DROPPED INTO THE CAMBRIA PROGRAM? ARE THEY EXCITED? SUSPICIOUS? CONFUSED?
in a way, ahsoka is reminded of the days of working with the order and the rebels - traveling through space and visiting various planets. only, she doesn’t know anyone behind the cambria program, is certainly isn’t quick to trust them and whatever their motivations may be.
WHAT DOES YOUR CHARACTER HOPE TO SEE THE MOST DURING THE CAMBRIA ONE’S JOURNEY?
she’s already gathered that she’ll be seeing some familiar faces here, and she drifts between concerned and hopeful. a part of her remains hopeful that they could actually make a difference, if not in their own universe, than at least in another.
IF YOUR CHARACTER COULD BRING ONE THING OR PERSON FROM HOME, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
while she misses many of those she considered friends or teammates that aren’t here, she knows better than to grow too attached to anything or anyone. if they’d give her lightsaber’s back, though, that’d be appreciated.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Mourning In Twilight
How long have I been here? Staring down at the wandering shadows that appear. Locked away in a prison built by my failure. Locked away with no signs of a saviour. Maybe this is my fate, maybe this is my destiny for losing to one's hate.
Time, if only I had more time. Maybe I would have fought a winning battle against his crime. Time, I have all the time in the world, to think about maybes and what ifs as they twirled. As I sit here by my little window still, watching the midnight rain that my sadness spill.
What could I have done differently?
Should I have listened to his shadowy whispers?
Maybe then I would have spoken coherently...
Maybe then, I would have gripped my blade till I had blisters.
But he would have just spoken with silent lies. As the Evil rained down from the dim skies. I saw his smile before, on the faces of those seeking power for war. A fool he appeared, dancing around his puppets he engineered. To listen to his cause, as I stood there paused.
He would have just lied if I chose to listen.
But...
Lies are nothing more than overshadowed truths.
I am so pathetic! I am the Princess! It is almost poetic, shrouded by Twilight and fear, nothing less. A Princess that couldn't defend her Kingdom, who couldn't fight back the threats that came forward, for I lacked the Wisdom.
And because I gave into fear, I find myself locked like a bird in a cage as the Fool's souvenir. I look down at the remains of my home, with tearful eyes, I feel my hope beginning to roam. Alone with my loss, alone with my thoughts.
What was that song Mother would sing to me on Nights of sadness? What was that song, my little lullaby she would sing to fill me with happiness?
"Close your eyes,
Rest upon your bed,
May sweet dreams find your head tonight
Hear my voice,
Dry your eyes,
Dream your fears away,
And know we will meet again,
When the Sun lights the darkened skies
You will know that I never left
Remember my voice,
Our lullaby,
For In sorrow, hope takes flight,
In the candlelight,
Think of me when I'm out of sight,
Ease your soul,
So when you close your eyes,
Your heart will be at peace..."
I remember the words spoken to me, the melody that was sung to me on silent nights as the Moon shines over the sea. I remember nights where Father stayed up late, working to give the people peace, a land without hate. I remember the beauty that resonated over the land, my home, before the Evil took a stand.
And I will always remember...
For I cannot give up just yet..
As I watch the spirits wander around like dim Embers
I cannot give up or I will forever feel regret
I didn't have the strength back when I faced his smile and now seeing the land he touches defiled. I won't stand for his darkness to spread, I won't stand for him to infect his influence and leave our land in dread.
No more...
I won't be a scared anymore
No more...
My tears will no longer rain down on the broken floor
No more...
I have no time to mourn...
I feel the light will eventually come back, I will be here to lend my Wisdom to keep it on track. Maybe there is still hope in this broken heart of mine, somewhere resonating as my tears shine. Maybe it's the unusual beauty that surrounds the Twilight, maybe it's the silence that softly speaks to me through the skylight.
Maybe I wasn't as defeated as I was led to believe...
No time to grieve...
What did Mother say? "In Sorrow, hope takes flight"
Well, spread your wings Hope, find the light...
So when I close my eyes, my heart will be at peace Tonight.
0 notes
Text
Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)
Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series
A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.
Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.
Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.
Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.
Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside
The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.
Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.
You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.
A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.
As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.
This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.
The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.
You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.
Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”
You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.
You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.
Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.
A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.
You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”
You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.
Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”
“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.
You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.
Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.
Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.
It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.
When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.
She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.
He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.
Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.
And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?
As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.
His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.
He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.
He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.
The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.
Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.
A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.
Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.
His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.
Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.
The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.
Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.
The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.
Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.
“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.
You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.
When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.
“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”
His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.
The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.
“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.
“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”
“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”
“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”
No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.
You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”
The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?
He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.
Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.
Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”
Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.
Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”
You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.
With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.
This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.
Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.
Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”
“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.
“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.
“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.
The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.
You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.
#Dark Fic#dark!steve rogers#dark mcu#dark!steve x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#Steve Rogers#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#mcudarklibrary#chris evans#chris evans x reader#marvel fic#mob au#mafia!steve rogers#mob!steve#Mob!steve x reader#dark! mob! steve rogers#mafia au#Welcome to the darkside#ray writes#Lipstick and Crayons
931 notes
·
View notes
Note
What's the most common misconception you hear about c!tommy?
Hey! Really interesting question, cheers. I’d say that there’s quite a few misconceptions floating around: that he never apologises, that he hasn’t developed, that his exile was his fault, that he’s the main source of conflict on the server, that all he does is steal, and plenty of other stuff.
But the one I probably hear most is how Tommy supposedly values music discs over people.
This one is such a mess of misconceptions. I’ve even heard it said that Doomsday happened because Tommy cared about his discs too much and he was wrong because you shouldn’t value items over human lives. I hate this one because it misunderstands Tommy enough so you can dismiss him because its such a weak position.
Anyway, I understand why its so messy. Tommy throughout season 2 is frequently in a state of uncertainty and is being driven by emotions and isn’t thinking clearly after so much suffering. He says a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean and is very suggestible. Most of his talking about the discs is done when he’s lonely and thinks his friends don’t care for him anymore, that they’re better off without him.
Now, let’s be clear: music discs are something Tommy’s character loves. His happiness every time he listens to one feels very genuine. He’s had so many emotional moments listening to his discs with others and even considers his bench his happy space. He likes them and invites others to listen with him. These items hold no intrinsic value, they’re of no worth to anyone else besides how much they mean to Tommy. The only reason to take them is to try to control him specifically. That’s the original reason Dream took them in the original disc war - to punish Tommy after he caused some trouble.
And the original disc war was fun for Tommy. He found the battle to be exciting and enjoyed trying to outplay Dream with his best friend Tubbo and anyone he could get on his side. It was like a fun game to him. One that, while chaotic, no one really got hurt from at all - the only one who really suffered was Tommy himself, who put stuff on the line for it and had his whole base dug up. (And Tubbo who got dragged in and lost items, but he was initially a very willing partner who found the conflict fun too.)
And then we have Dream, who traded away L’Manburg’s independence for Tommy’s discs, an interesting decision which meant only Tommy really paid the price that day. Everyone remarked on how unusually selfless it was of Tommy. That day was a victory for everyone else, but bittersweet for him. Wilbur consoled him, saying they could get them back and then they’d have even more history and sentimental value attached to them, having been what paid for L’Manburg’s freedom. Tommy was encouraged and so the game continued.
Dream over this time became not just Tommy’s enemy, but his friend. They had fights and conflicts but it was more like a fun game. As they also did stuff like make a church together. Eventually Tommy managed to steal Mellohi back from Dream while Skeppy acquired Cat. At the elections, Tommy gives Mellohi to Wilbur who gives it back again when they’re banished. Months pass and they finally win back L’Manberg and its a wonderful day (until it goes wrong) but Tommy’s not done with his disc war.
This disc war was always a personal thing for Tommy, he’s never wanted others to be dragged in and hurt by it. He kind of takes Tubbo for granted, but Tubbo’s also always been his partner in crime and Tommy enjoys having a war he can fight alongside his best friend - he and Tubbo against Dream. Dream at this point is still seen as a friendly enemy, in spite of choosing Schlatt and helping Wilbur blow up L’Manberg. Anyway, he rejects Presidency, giving it to Wilbur because he trusts him and also wants to focus on his personal battles after so long ignoring it. He doesn’t want others to be dragged in or for his interests to be divided. He’s leaving L’Manburg in safe hands he can trust. That’s season 1 of the SMP, but season 2 is where things get messier.
After the war, Tommy hears that Tubbo had been suspicious that Tommy might’ve been the traitor. In order to show that he trusts him, Tommy gives Tubbo Mellohi. It’s not just a disc now, its a sign of trust, a sign of their bond - at least in Tommy’s eyes.
Then Dream builds obsidian walls around L’Manburg and we first see Tommy showing that bit of selfishness. He states that he’d wanted to step away, that L’Manburg wasn’t his priority anymore. That he’d left it in safe hands so he could focus on the discs. But it doesn’t matter what Tommy intended. Dream is targeting him and is dragging the rest of L’Manburg into it by threatening to seal them in obsidian forever if they don’t comply. Tommy and Tubbo do have a disagreement here, but its not actually so much about the discs.
-Tommy believes that fighting Dream is the superior option, if they ask for help from others in the server - because what he’s doing isn’t right - then they could defeat him, show him that he couldn’t just push them around.
-Tubbo feels like that would get them killed and he doesn’t want to risk their lives. It would be better to appease Dream for now and secretly plot how to take him down later but Tommy’s being too hotheaded.
Tommy brings up the disc to state how he trusts Tubbo and would consider being exiled a betrayal but Tubbo reminds him that they’re just discs and there’s more on the line and Tommy needs to be more cooperative. Anyway, Tommy’s hurt by Tubbo exiling him and think its a sign that he doesn’t care about him anymore. Tubbo meanwhile found it difficult to do but felt like there was no other option but did still care about Tommy. Tubbo would later come to regret doing it while Tommy would later say that it was the right choice when they finally actually talk.
The discs here are kind of a symbol but Tommy doesn’t really value them over others, he’s being a little selfish for sure but that is mostly a result of being treated unfairly by Dream and feeling attacked and ganged up on by his friends, not seeing how they were trying to help him. Dream’s the one to blame here. At worst, Tommy’s being irresponsible in thinking he can just step away from L’Manburg - he didn’t value the discs over it, he just wanted to fight a personal battle without L’Manburg being involved for once. But too many things do matter to him and Dream realised he could attack Tommy through his friends. Its also why Tommy says he didn’t want Tubbo to be President, because he wanted him to be free to help him in his personal war too. There were some issues in their friendship that for sure got exploited and blown out of proportion.
So post-exile. Tommy is rather confused. He’s decided he doesn’t want to die and that Dream wasn’t really his friend, but he still feels abandoned by all his other friends. He still believes they didn’t really care about him after his failed beach party and everything else. And his feelings on Dream are mixed because he knows logically he should hate him but emotionally he still feels like he’s his friend.
Tommy at this point, begins clinging to the discs as some sort of tangible goal while feeling so lonely and abandoned. He has no real sense of agency and really wants Technoblade to give him guidance. Technoblade however wants to destroy L’Manburg and reaffirms his thoughts that Tubbo doesnt really care about him. Tommy is still...kinda(?) clear that he doesn’t want L’Manburg to be destroyed but is willing to compromise on minor terrorism. His remaining belief in L’Manburg is being eroded. You can see in his trips into L’Manburg he is rather unaware of the extent of his actions. He’s suffered and now feels right in lashing out. It seems to be the start of a villain arc even. Right at this point, the discs make more sense than people so they are his goal. And yet even in the midst of his uncertainty, he says the one Tubbo has is safe, he wants to get the one Dream has.
The discs are Tommy’s way of saying he wants to fight Dream. It’s not really about the discs anymore, Dream went way too far with the exile and now Tommy wants to stop him and find it easiest to frame it as going after his music disc.
Then the festival. Tommy finally confronts Tubbo and sees him about to give his disc to Dream. It’s his worst fears confirmed, that Tubbo doesn’t really care about him and that he’s on Dream’s side. They fight and Tommy finally says the line ‘the discs were worth more than you ever were!’
And he regrets it immediately. The statement rang false. They were just discs and Tubbo was his best friend. He immediately tells Tubbo to give up the disc and changes sides then and there. The discs were not more important than people. He was being selfish. And he also remembered how much he cared about L’Manburg and didn’t want it to be blown up no matter what he’d agreed to the day before. He wants to fight for it, choosing his friends once and for all.
In his argument with Techno on Doomsday, he does bring up his discs and words it kind of awkwardly. He tries to explain that ‘nothing had been taken from you, while the discs were stolen from me’ Tommy believes that Techno is destroying something people loved when he could’ve just walked away, he wasn’t fighting for something he loved like Tommy in his wars. That’s what he’s trying to get at, not that music discs are more important than people. Tommy doesn’t actually believe that and prefers wars that don’t hurt others, as the disc wars was once supposed to be before Dream brought in everyone else. Even saying that, Tommy admits he’d messed up so many times in chasing the discs. That he was wrong.
Tommy talks about going after the discs again but at this point it really means taking down Dream. Dream had expressed that he would not stop, he enjoyed their ‘game’ too much. Tommy has nothing left to lose as far as he’s concerned and needs to take down Dream for everything he’d done.
During the disc saga finale, again Tommy always chooses Tubbo first. There’s this one moment where he has Mellohi and could run away forever but he stops and gives it up along with all their items before their taken to the vault and almost forced to watch Tubbo die while he gets thrown in prison forever. But he chooses Tubbo. He always does.
Okay, summary over. I hope that better explains why I dislike the misconception that Tommy chooses his discs over people. He doesn’t really. It’s used to discredit him way too much, I feel. It’s only at his lowest, after being tormented in exile that he even gets close to that position and that’s when he’s on the bring of choosing a dark path and becoming what he hates. At the festival, he rejects that path.
Now that he has his discs, he hasn’t started trouble with them once. They’re safe and he can bring them out to listen to when he’s feeling low, not hurting anyone. They’re just something he loves and its okay to have attachments.
#dream smp#tommyinnit#meta#analysis#replies#aah sorry for the long post#i got carried away#ilike to correct misconceptions#dreamsmp#yeah this is all pretty much tommy's perspective so yeah it is biased#exile arc#but thanks for the ask
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lie There and Breathe
A Horde Clone OC story
(Tw: gore, injury) (part two here, part three here, part four here)
The Etherian relief workers found him lying prone on the hard ground beside the cliff where Horde Prime had made his last mad play. Jagged rocks lay all around the clone's body, his abdomen and shoulders riddled with long thorns that could only have come from Perfuma's vines.
His arms were pinned under his torso, the white of his tabard and tunic stained phosphorescent green. But what had truly frightened the workers was the state of the clone's face.
The clone lay with his head resting in a pool of neon blood, half his left ear was missing entirely as the flesh of his cheek and brow hung from the bone, separated across the socket of his eye by a gash that had gouged a trail into his very skull.
Ethera had abandoned the more violent practices of war nearly a century ago, and while there had been countless conflicts since then the average citizen was unused to the brutality that Prime had brought.
Through all the years of fighting between the rebellion and the Etherian Horde both sides had utilized non-lethal methods whenever possible as a matter of both basic morality and resource consumption. Anything less would have been viewed as a war crime.
But the Galactic Horde was held to no such standard. Their way was victory by any means necessary, and the streamlined process of creating clones meant that they never had to worry about running out of cannon fodder.
When Horde Prime arrived and Hordak disappeared, war on Etheria had changed drastically.
The princesses could not be blamed for fighting back.
But as relief workers picked their way across the battlefield, pulling living soldiers from both sides into the hastily constructed healers' tents there was an aura of revulsion and regret to them. The days of mindless bloodshed should have been over, but the newly verdant landscape was still soaked with red and green blood.
The workers wrapped the clone's face with a cloth, and dragged his unconscious form into the tent.
........
The clone awoke to searing pain and blindness.
Agony left him breathless, and he tried to curl into himself only to find that he lacked the strength to move his limbs. Although his head was thickly wrapped in bandages his senses were inundated by unfamiliar sounds and smells. Beside him someone breathed heavily, each intake rattling wetly.
Immediately he sought out the hivemind, disoriented and pained.
He found only empty silence.
Panicked the clone tried again, reaching out and physically grasping at the air with a trembling hand as he searched in vain for the warm minds of his Brothers, connected by the light of Horde Prime.
Horde Prime
Horde Prime was dead.
And so was the hivemind.
His breath sped up as the clone's lonely mind raced, reaching back to his last moment of consciousness.
He remembered his injury, and laying prone beneath the cliff as through the echoes of the hivemind he witnessed the end of Prime’s Glorious Vessel. Killed at the hands of the traitorous defect.
The clone remembered Horde Prime’s short glorious return in the body of the traitor, and he remembered the triumphant final speech in the voice that had seemed to echo from the top of the cliff and through the hivemind. He remembered letting his eyes slip shut as he prepared to die as Prime willed.
And he remembered how the voice had suddenly stopped.
The cold emptiness that had gripped him then came again as he lay blind and lost. He knew as surely as he knew anything that the hivemind had died along with Prime, and that he was alone. As if he were a cloud of space dust after a supernova, a corpse teeming with rot after death.
The clone shuddered, fighting the panic that threatened to engulf him. Through everything else that inundated his mind something new and profound shined from his core.
A desire to stay alive.
And the first thing that the clone knew about staying alive was that if he was to do so then he couldn't continue to panic.
Brothers who panicked on the field died, those who remained calm and kept their faith in Prime lived to fight another day.
Prime was dead, and so all he could do was try to remain calm.
Beyond the horror within his own head the clone found that he could not block out the pervasive sound of wheezing from beside him. From further away the noise was yet more chaotic. Bustling and clattering were overshadowed by moans and gasps of pain and the smells of blood and fear hung heavy in the air.
The clone turned his head slowly, listening for anything familiar, but heard no comforting mechanical beeps, or low reassuring prayers.
Indeed the only prayers that he heard were being gasped desperately from some distance.
He focused of the wheezing beside him.
The sound was steady even as each breath seemed to rattle wetly. The clone matched each wheeze to his own breaths and focused his entire self on it, blocking out the chaos of the unknown location where he and the breather lay.
........
The clone did not know how much time had passed.
He had eventually lost consciousness, and when he awoke he spent a moment seeking out the rasping breathing of one who lay beside him. He had been relieved to hear the breather immediately, the rest of the surrounding area had quieted substantially while he slept, but the steady rattling continued on as though nothing had changed.
The clone clung to it.
He was still heavily bandaged, and agony throbbed through his very being. The clone now knew that his pain was centralized to one side of his head. His left eye socket felt like a black hole, hungrily sucking every joule of energy from his body.
He was too exhausted to even seek out comfort, and the all encompassing agony made it impossible to concentrate on anything but The Breather beside him.
He lay there, helpless and exhausted and did the only thing that he could do.
He listened.
And he heard.
The clone counted the breaths of his companion constantly, eventually allowing surrounding noises to trickle in but never giving up his concentration on The Breather.
He deduced, as he lay there, that he was surrounded by the injured. Many of the cries, gasps, and prayers, were the voices of his brothers. Terror and pain gripped those voices, and he spared a moment of grief for those brothers. The panic that they were experiencing was dangerous, and the clone refused to let himself fall into it's trap.
He needed to remain calm because he wanted to survive.
He wanted to survive and hear the rattling breaths beside him.
The Breather slept on, constant and steady despite the wheezing.
There were likely Etherians surrounding him as well. Some of the pained voices were unfamiliar, and those who bustled around were certainly not members of The Horde. Their alien voices were filled with emotion, and their hurried steps too disorganized to be anything but alien.
It made sense. Prime was dead.
What didn't make sense was that these Etherians were keeping him and his brothers alive. Perhaps they planned to have the surviving clones serve them as the people of conquered planets had had the choice to peacefully serve Horde Prime.
But why not cull the damaged ones?
The clone knew, as surely as he knew that Prime was dead, that he was too damaged to avoid culling. The vine that had whipped across his face had obviously left a path of carnage in its wake. He did not know the state of his eyes, but the pain radiating from his left socket was telling, as was the uncomfortable wetness that soaked the bandages surrounding his head.
But he didn't want to die. The desire to live still burned strongly with him, new and profound. The clone tied his survival to remaining calm, which in turn had thus far turned him to rely upon The Breather beside him.
As long as he could hear his companion, then he could remain calm. As long as he remained calm then he had a chance of survival.
Beside him The Breather slept on, and the clone listened.
After some time of this the chaos of their surroundings picked back up, less frantic than it had been before but still busy. A host of voices and various organic smells rose to meet him; some were medicinal some were not. For his part the clone continued to take it all in from his stationary supine position.
He deduced that he was laying on a sort of rough canvas cot some unknown distance from the ground. Unfamiliar clothing and a thin sheet covered him. Around him there was little airflow, but there was also no echo that would have indicated that they were indoors. If anything he heard wind, and the sound of cloth flapping but did not feel a breeze, perhaps they were in a tent.
On his aching left side The Breather slept on but to his right he heard only wind and cloth, curiously he reached out a hand and met more sturdy cloth. He must have been lying along the wall of some kind of hospital tent.
Cautiously he continued to explore his surroundings with his fingers, reaching out blindly for anything within his reach. The wall, the cot, the strange loose clothes that covered him.
After a moment's hesitation the clone reached out into open air, searching for The Breather. The rasping continued on as it had since he’d first regained consciousness.
The clone felt his arm shake as he reached towards the lifeline that he'd been clinging too since he’d first regained consciousness.
And he found them.
A long arm, a muscular shoulder, the familiar texture and musculature. A fellow clone. A Brother.
Something that had been wrapped up tight in the clone's chest slowly unfurled, and tears welled up in his covered eyes as he traced his companion's arm downward to grasp his hand.
Relief and fear bloomed within him as he cried. Beside him his brother breathed on.
..................................................................................
Congratulations on finishing this somewhat maudlin little fic, I've wanted to write it for a while.
Since the two characters currently known as The Clone (our protagonist) and The Breather (the unconscious one) aren't very developed in this first part I thought I'd tell you a little about them
The Clone (pictured on top (someday I may draw his scars more closely to how I imagine them)) will eventually go on to be known as Chamomile. After spending some time in the healing tent he will learn that he still has perfect sight in the right eye, and partial sight in his left. Observing the Etherian healers as they work will inspire him to study healing under their tutelage specializing in wound care.
This will be a fairly new concept to the Horde Clones as under Prime most clones who had received a major wound that needed extensive care or caused major scarring would likely have been culled or sent to the front lines.
His companion The Breather (pictured below) will later be called Calamine. He is currently suffering from pneumonia due to a chest injury that resulted in a collapsed lung as well as substantial internal bleeding, he'll wake up eventually but for now the boy needs rest. He is a kindred spirit to Chamomile and the two cling to one another as they recover.
Calamine had previously worked within The Horde to create amniotic fluid, and will eventually become a cook.
The extremely awesome and very inspiring clone creator piccrew was made by @strawberryoverlordart
#horde clones#spacebats#hordak#horde clone oc#spop#she ra and the princesses of power#Chamomile the Clone#Calamine the Clone#tw: gore#gore#injury#death mention#spop oc#ask to tag#my fic#fic rec#original#i contributed#piccrew#Lie There and Breathe
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Who is Sam's prison for?
If you're not up to date in DreamSMP lore, Awesamdude, resident Redstone expert, was paid stacks of diamonds by Dream to make an inescapable prison. It is located in the ocean next to Bad and Skeppy's mansion and is VERY large. Supposedly it will be using Elder Guardians to keep a prisoner from mining out due to Mining Fatigue. Even if the prisoner dies of hunger, they will respawn inside. This brings up the question of how
1. they force the prisoner to click a bed inside the prison
2. how they keep the prisoner from breaking the bed.
Regardless of the mechanics of the second one, I think the first is a clue as to who Dream will trap inside the prison. Consider the 3 canon deaths lore. He has used the threat of permanently killing Tommy to get the boy to comply and click on a bed in Logstedshire. So a 'permanent death if you don't comply' is definitely an effective tactic but ONLY for people with one life left.
The main two options are Tommy and Tubbo (or Philza). Or, Dream is planning on knocking another one of his potential opponents, such as Quackity, Fundy or Techno, down to one life in the time it takes to build the actual prison.
Quackity and Fundy aren't big enough threats yet, although Quackity certainly has the potential to be a threat, in this season of the SMP, El Rapids isn't big enough of a threat yet.
Most people would assume Dream's biggest enemies on the server are Tommy and Techno. Techno's role in the grand scheme of things is, as of now, undetermined. However, as Techno is one of the authors of this SMP season, he likely has something up his sleeve. He is currently 'retired' alongside Phil in their Antarctic Empire skins in a snowy biome, but he has made appearances in Tommy's streams to mock the boy for getting exiled (just like Techno predicted with the Theseus analogy.) An alliance between the sleepbois is possibly in the works, but right now, both Tommy and Techno have made it clear there is still a lot of animosity between them. So I don't see Techno, and by extension, Phil becoming much of a problem for Dream (for now.)
Tommy, on the other hand, has been visited by Dream almost every stream while Tommy is exiled; Tommy has been manipulated by him, gaslighted and threatened. Despite making the very real threat of giving Tommy his final death, Dream has stopped Tommy from any, um, self-harming actions. Dream told him "I need you alive." Narratively, that means that Dream has plans for Tommy (they are, after all, each other's main antagonist). But Dream has also said that Tommy will remain on exile for a long time and he told Bad and Sam as they were building the prison that he doesn't intend on using the prison on Tommy (unless he begins to act up was implied.)
Because Bad and Sam (and Eret) are working with Dream, I would assume imprisoning anyone from the Badlands is out of the question. But I think it's interesting how Sam is the primary leader of the building project.
Dream said that Sam is the only one who will totally know the ins and outs of the prison. So that possibly means Sam is the only one who would know how to escape the inescapable prison. The interesting thing about Sam being included in this storyline is his connections. He and Tubbo are very close, and Sam is also friends with Tommy. Its not long of a stretch to assume that Sam's storyline might eventually lead to HIM breaking out whoever Dream imprisons. Tommy, for now, is out of the equation, so who does that leave?
Tubbo. Someone who many people are now considering Dream's puppet. Dream has been laying on the manipulation lately, playing chess with him, complimenting him and trying to increase the wedge between Tubbo and Tommy. You would think Tubbo is safe, so long as he remains pacifistic and continues to make decisions that are to Dream's benefit. But there are things going beyond the scenes that we, the audience, need to consider. The script.
Symbolism and chekov's guns have been sprinkled into the story line for a long time, and it feels as though the roleplayers have upped the ante. It's hard to think about Ghostbur' compasses without crying, but I literally can't stop thinking about what they mean. When it comes to the duo, despite their estrangement, Tommy still considers Tubbo one of the most important things in his life. He placed the "Your Tubbo" compass right beside his discs in his enderchest. Meanwhile, Tubbo held his "Your Tommy" compass in his offhand nearly all stream today. They still care for each other, obviously, but think about one of the reasons Tubbo exiled Tommy in the first place.
He felt like Tommy was choosing the discs over everything else. He felt as though the discs were the only thing Tommy cared about. There has to be a resolution to this. It's been shown by the story that the discs and Tommy's other obligations (L'manberg, his friendships) cannot coexist together for long without it driving a wedge between them.
Tubbo has been streaming more Among Us lobbies and modded Minecraft lately. When he comes onto the server, he nearly has nothing to do. He loves big project and building houses, but as of now, Tubbo has so little materials to even bother making a home and his largest project, the ocean monument, has been placed on the backburner while Sam builds the prison. Its almost....its almost like Tubbo is preparing his audience and for a period of time where he has no reason to be on the SMP. If he's imprisoned, that's not very good content to watch, is it? I also noticed that Dream pointedly did NOT tell Tubbo about the prison today, instead referred to it merely as a 'project.'
My biggest theory is that the prison is for Tubbo. Tubbo is complacent to Dream now, sure, but Tubbo is very, very smart, and- most importantly to Dream - he still has one of Tommy's discs. And Dream wants it.
When talking sweet to Tubbo no longer works, I think the prison will be the next best option. Its possible Dream will frame Tubbo for some crime (foreshadowed by how Quackity and George tried to frame Eret for Karl's murder), or someone will threaten to overthrow Tubbo and Dream will bring him to a 'secure location' to protect him. Tubbo is very nervous about losing his one life, as exhibited by the safe room under the L'mamberg podium, and other comments about his fear of becoming the next Ghostbur. Dream said that he would protect Tubbo if someone tried to overthrow him. The only threats to Tubbo's current presidency is El Rapids. Ranboo is willing to wait until the next election to become president, but Quackity has shown a strong willingness to do terrible things in order to get power. In Quackity's war against Eret and Dream, Dream made many, many references to Tubbo being a better leader, possibly sowing jealousy in Quackity's mind. Sapnap, George and Karl, as apart of El Rapids also have a bone to pick with L'manberg and may also play a part in further separating Quackity from L'manberg and fueling his desire to be the most powerful nation on the server. Absorbing New L'manberg could be the next step.
Dream could pretend to protect Tubbo by bringing him to a 'safe location', the prison, and getting Tubbo to willingly set his spawn inside. Once it comes to light that it's a prison, with Dream his captor, Tubbo will have to make a decision. Give Dream the disc in his enderchest, or stay imprisoned. Freedom, or the disc, a compromise that has been made time and time again on this server.
I think that Tubbo will hold out and allow himself to be imprisoned, while Tommy returns from exile to make a prison break, with the help of Sam. I doubt that will end well, knowing Dream.
I also think at some point, one of the boys will need to bend. Either Tubbo choses to give up his disc to Dream for freedom, or he decides to take the disc with him to his grave. Its basically the Exile decision all over again. Life/freedom, or the discs/war. Selfishness vs. selflessness.
The two boys are learning throughout this current arc to be more like the other. Throughout his Exile, Tommy will learn to be self sufficient and has had to make big sacrifices consistently as Dream blows up the progress he's made. He's learning to chose his own life over property. Meanwhile, Tubbo (although he's only streamed on the SMP once so far this week) has already shown regret for exiling Tommy, and inherently by choosing to launch a war campaign against Techno, he is learning to chose war and bravery over peace and cowardice. He will gain an appreciation for the disks and/or recognize with greater understanding what they mean to Tommy. Maybe he will learn to care deeply for his compass and learns how willing he is to wage war if the compass gets stolen. It's about the symbolism - its what the object means that is worth protecting.
I think Tubbo will die protecting the discs. Or, Tommy will tell Tubbo to give it up. This is a better ending, in which Tommy will learn that the discs represent is his friendships. And, according to Ranboo, they also represent power, according to Ranboo. But on the server, according to Wilbur (when he asks Tubbo to spy for him) people have always represented power.
To Tommy, in this arc, I hope he will learn that keeping the discs is not worth losing his best friend.
#dream team#dreamteam#dreamwastaken#mcyt#president tubbo#tubbolive#tubbo#tommyinnit#clingy duo#sleepy bois inc#wilbur soot#ghostbur#awesamdude#quackity#fundy#fundylive
501 notes
·
View notes
Note
Kasumi, Thane, Shiala for the character ask meme
OHHHHHHHHH i do be too in love
FIRST IMPRESSION
K: a THIEF??? you give me HEIST??? i studied art history in college, and got very focused on art crime and museum security and made several professors quite anxious, so the first time I played 2 and recruited her, she immediately soared to the top of my fave list
T: oh ho oh HO tiddy window. he is... ooh. him pretty. then he talked. HE'S HOT!!!! uh oh weren't you gonna romance garrus?
S: when she feel out of the thorian i was like wat. i am getting my ass kicked by a plant booger. why are you HERE. WHO ARE YOU
IMPRESSION NOW
K: i will die for you. i wanted to see more of her in 3. i wanted to heist the casino with her. extremely in love, forever and always, and if i wanted to punish myself and make another shepard it'd be to romance her
T: shattered. one of the most deeply romantic LIs out there imo. watching him come alive again. unrecoverable. i'll forever love him. also hes hot as fuck lemme lick him. he didn't die, he blasted kai leng in the face the second he leveled his pistol. i will also go to my grave foaming at the mouth what they did to him
S: wife. omg please benchpress me. the first time i played and had that conversation post-thorian and its like oh. you're badass as fuck. a commando and studied for centuries w benezia? AND THEN SHE FLIRTS W YOU IN 2 AND THERE IS NO OPTION FOR FOLLOW UP???? i thought about that scene all the time. and with the next couple playthroughs, every time i got to see her i was like. oh no youre even prettier. oh no you're even cooler. and now its just terminal brainrot. god i wish we couldve recruited her/romanced her. that would have been mad dope. thank god i am sometimes capable of writing fic
FAVORITE MOMENT
K: ohhhh a toughie. it feels like a cop out to say all of them, but her VA does such a damn good job bringing so much personality into her lines so like even going and checking in on her between missions was a delight to hear her comment on squadmates. that heist was so good tho. hoot every time she jumps on the jet and gives hock that jaunty wave. WHAT A BABE!!! i also love when she goes HAha while in combat
T: when he finally talks about irikah and kolyat. it felt so special and intimate to learn about them. and when he cries before kissing shepard. yes.
S: when shE FLIRTS IN 2 OASIFHLJISUDH but seriously when shes free of the thorian and says she wants to help the colony in recompense. that. meant a lot to me. also i watched the renegade version on yt and the fact that she'll just. let shepard kill her without a fight.... that...... ow
IDEA FOR A STORY
K: well. i've got several fics in the works for her w mercy shepard
- new orleans heist
- vinny (the first man kasumi kills)
- ANDERSON NEVER ARRESTS MERCY AU: CRIMELORD MERCY SHEPARD where kasumi is their right hand, and eventually they end up on the trail of saren. alternate recruitment of squadmates >:)
T: i've got a google doc titled cleaning supplies which um. has been the filth i've been posting in chunks. the other fic for him that i just have a barebones bit is hurt/comfort after mercy visits alchera, beginnings of a romance between them. and of course, sports coach au that i will absolutely start actively writing once i've gotten a couple more "essential" mercy fics done
S: i am working on stellan and shiala's first in-person date after the war, inspired by you, the powerful @yellingaboutmasseffect, where they do the floating howl/sophie walk. and then i like to play around with a full-on howl's moving castle shepala au, that i'd probably post scenes from, rather than any sort of longfic. and im still writing very married sleepy fucking. um. yeah. that's almost complete
UNPOPULAR OPINION
K: i will never regret she's there because she makes my life worthwhile, but why was kasumi recruited in the first place?? she's a thief, not a murder powerhouse
T: can't be considered a dilf til kolyat forgives him and even then, hun, you've got a lot of work to do for your kid (which, he does, of course. but it can't be ignored that thane just. abandoned his child)
S: i think she would've made a more fun companion than liara
FAVORITE RELATIONSHIP
(ignoring shepard)
K: i thought the one she had with the spectre jondam bau was fun. i'd write them going on an interrupted heist-turned-date. or a slow burn enemies to lovers thing. if i had time. i also love that kasumi and samara hang out, referenced in 2
T: thane/irikah, of course! what a powerful couple.
S: i would love to read about shiala studying under benezia, and then the curdling relationship has soverign's indoctrination worms between them. to her being sacrificed to the thorian. and then her learning the death of her teacher. like. there's a lot there and it hurts my feelings when i think about it. love that for me :)
FAVORITE HEADCANON
K: her grandmama. i have her as a badass cat burglar that raised kasumi as not only a beloved grandchild, but also her protege. powerful woman. also cared for mercy, but she dies when kasumi is seventeen
T: that he's got a dick like a vodka tampon
S: she's absolutely ripped. i know it. you know it. we all know it. i like the idea that she's both beefy and intellectual. and in my shepala-rotted brain, she's got a real talent for growing flowers :')
#thank you for the asks!!!#these were a lot of fun#and also got me wanting to work on some docs....#hope you enjoyed!!! i think i got a little carried away#kasumi goto#thane krios#shiala#mass effect#literally the top three im hideously in love with thank u#thane/irikah#shrios
23 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sheisthepoetryshecanwrite
Synesthesia
turquoisetroubles
"Blue! I like blue and I like green."
cowboyonetwo
Bi guy Minnesota
manali-camp
Untitled
postausitalien
Post aus Italien