#and the conflicting forces inside him almost destroyed him!!!!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunonyoreface · 30 days ago

Text

He Knows - Simon "Ghost Riley Pt. 22

Word count: 3611

Warnings: minors dni, angst, military setting, explicit language, depictions of violence.

I’m not supposed to be here. Quiet beeping fills the room. Soft sunlight drifts in through the windows and skylight. The atmosphere of the infirmary is surprisingly uplifting, almost like an escape from the rest of the compound. If Ghost or Price found out, they’d probably send me back to my quarters, lock the door, and throw away the key. But there are a few people who’ve taken sympathy on me recently. Konig being one of them.

He was only supposed to fill in for Soap by taking me to breakfast. Yet, he was suspiciously early. The cafeteria had barely opened and almost no one was around. I was cautiously silent the whole time, but after we finished filling our trays and before we sat down to eat, the towering man leaned down and asked if I wanted to eat with Soap instead.

A spark of hope flickered behind my eyes. I knew he could see it. Konig didn’t say anything else, but gestured with his head toward the door.

Now we sit in the infirmary together beside Soap’s bed. It’s a long, large room and the beds are only separated by curtains to provide a miniscule amount of privacy. But it's still more welcoming than all the other spaces on the compound.

Soap is in rough shape, but at least he’s alive. Bandages wrap around his chest and his arm is back in the sling. One of Soap’s eyes is completely bloodshot from an impact to the head. The eerie red is a harsh contrast against the stormy blue of his irises. He had internal bleeding at some point, but during the surgery, they were able to stop it. His skin is painfully painted in large black and purple bruises from head to toe.

However, the explosion didn’t touch his smile, which tugs at the corner of his mouth as I tell him how Konig snuck me in here. The skin around his eyes crinkles, but he winces as he laughs. The pain he’s in is still fresh. Soap will be in here for days. He’ll be off the field for even longer.

“I’m glad you’re still here lass,” the smile is evident in his voice, yet his words allude to something more. How much did he know about the plan? What was supposed to happen to me? I can’t ask him that. Not with Konig here and not with only curtains for privacy.

I need to know what 141’s real plans were. Who shot first? Who’s to blame for the people who died that day? What the hell really happened?

All I can do now is revel in the small moments of our friendship. Because even if he did know, I can’t hold it against him. I don’t think I could ever be angry at Soap.

“You should’ve seen their faces when they realized we destroyed their main base,” pride laces Soap’s voice as he speaks to Konig. “They didn’t know what hit them.”

“You blew it up?” I ask.

Soap’s eyes light up as they connect with mine. I can almost see the flames in their reflection. “to smithereens,” I can picture it in my head, feel the explosion ripple through the air with such an immense power it flattens the trees. There’d be nothing left of their base after Soap’s team was done with it. They definitely sent a message.

Konig begins asking him another question when I see a shadow move behind the cream curtains. Ghost steps into the room and the atmosphere immediately shifts. I haven’t seen him since the exchange. Now I can’t take my eyes off him. Every feeling I have for him is so incredibly conflicting.

“Who authorized this?” Ghost demands, already knowing the answer.

“I – uh,” Konig stumbles over his words. Guilt twists inside my chest. I don’t want him to get in trouble for being nice to me. “No one, sir,”

Sometimes I forget the power he has within the task force. Nothing happens without Ghost knowing and approving of it. Especially when it comes to me. My fear for Konig grows.

“It’s my fault,” I lie. Ghost’s eyes flicker to me. “I said you’d let me see Soap,” the urgency in my voice mixes with a false sense of confidence well enough that the average person might just believe what I’m saying. Ghost, however, is far from the average person.

The air is tense. He turns his attention back to Konig. “That true?”

“Negative, sir,” my fists clench in my lap when he responds. Damn him for being honest.

“Head back to your station, we’ll discuss this later,” his voice is cold. I wish I could see more of his face to gauge how angry he is.

“Come on Ghost, it isn’t that serious,” Soap interjects as Konig gets up to leave. I feel ashamed, like we were caught with our hands in the cookie jar at our grandparent’s place. Unease also weaves its way into my mind. I’m not sure where I stand with Ghost. He could’ve changed his entire attitude towards me altogether.

“Don’t start, Soap,” says Ghost. His narrowed eyes are back on me. “You. Follow me. No questions.”

My mouth is dry as I force myself to swallow. Ghost has already left the room when Soap grabs my hand and gives it a quick, reassuring squeeze. He smiles half-heartedly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks for visiting,” he whispers.

I smile in response, but can’t find the words to tell him how much his friendship means to me.

My heart thrums in my chest as I catch up to Ghost. He leads me down a dark hallway I haven’t taken before. Something tells me we aren’t going back to his or my quarters. Maybe he doesn’t trust them anymore. Someone could be recording us.

Ghost walks faster than normal, as though his irritation fuels him. His broad frame stands out against the mute background. I feel small trailing behind him. I wonder how long it’d take him to notice if I stopped walking.

The corridor is smaller than the main hallways that take you to the cafeteria and sleeping quarters. The ceiling is shorter too, and the overhead lights are spaced out to the extent that the hall almost fades to complete darkness between them. There aren’t any rooms or offices and it doesn’t seem to intersect with any other passages. It truly feels like we’re walking in a liminal space with no beginning or end. Anxiety builds at the bottom of my lungs, slowly but surely pushing out the available air.

The anticipation of what’s about to happen tears me apart inside. What will he say? What will he do? After finding out 141 had my mom all along and was waiting to use her as a backup strategy, I feel even more betrayed than before. Ghost said he couldn’t tell me things, but how can he justify keeping information about my life hidden from me? He wasn’t protecting me, he was making sure I wouldn’t turn on them.

Now what? Maybe Bennet was right, that 141 doesn’t need an excuse to keep me around now that they have my father. Will Ghost take me out back and put a bullet in my head? Will they do the same to my parents? There’s no way they can possibly return me to my old life. Such a thing doesn’t exist anymore.

A glowing red exit sign hangs in the air above a door that is almost impossible to spot. The light menacingly reflects off the skull mask as he waits for me to come closer. Ghost shoves the door open and waits for me to enter the staircase first.

Everything is metal and cement and only lit up by emergency lights that are once again spaced too far apart. I feel his demanding presence behind me as the door latches and locks behind us. The sound echos off the walls. Not another soul is here. Nor do they know of our presence. We are truly, completely, alone.

“Simon,” I hesitate. He said no questions, but after everything, how does he expect me to blindly follow him? “What are we doing here?”

“I lied to you,” just like that, his words trigger something in me. Like a fuse that was just waiting for someone to stumble across the wire. Ghost’s foot just snagged that very wire. My demeanour completely changes.

“That’s a fucking understatement,” I whip around to face him. Ghost stands on the cement landing space with his back to the dark grey door. Staircases with metal railings connect to each end of the platform leading to the upper and lower floors. Every sound lightly echoes off the brick, windowless walls that look like someone forgot to paint them. His arms fold across his chest at my harsh accusation. He stiffens. The Lieutenant isn’t used to being addressed in this way. My tone is blatantly disrespectful. But I don’t care. “You’ve done so much more than just lie to me.”

“Y/n-” I cut him off.

“No. I’m talking,” I interrupt. “I won’t even bring up how you fucking drugged and kidnapped me to get me here. You have done so much shit to me, Simon, so much. I don’t even know where the hell to start, but since you mentioned it, the lying. The fucking lying. Every single time I think we’re finally on the same page, you turn around and fucking lie and hide information about me from me. You don’t get to do that! Not when it’s my life being affected. You don’t get to pretend to be God, Simon,” I step towards him with an accusatory finger pointed at his chest. “And it’s not like you’re lying just about anything. It’s about my mom, Simon, my fucking mom! Do you have any idea what that’s done to me? How scared I am for her? You and Price and whoever else have no right to do that to her. None. And don’t you dare tell me that she was safe that entire time and you wouldn’t have hurt her. I don’t believe for a second that Price wouldn’t have killed her.”

“You’re right,” Ghost states. I feel myself resisting his attempt. His arms fall from his chest and he dares to take a small step closer.

“I can’t trust you, Simon. Every time I think I can, there’s always more to the story you’re hiding from me. You’re always hiding. Always. Every time we talk. Every time we see each other. It’s always one-sided. I don’t even get to see you, Simon. You’ve touched every inch of me and yet I don’t even know what you look like. How can I ever genuinely trust you?” my feelings are constantly exacerbated after every interaction we have. Especially recently.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just close them,” his voice is low and stern, yet unmistakably tender. I listen to Ghost’s orders and reluctantly close my eyes.

The stair well is utterly silent except for our light breaths. Then, my ears pick up on something else. It’s the quiet rustle of fabric against skin. Then, the sound of uncertain footsteps coming closer. Ghost’s breath is shakey as he slowly exhales.

His large hands encase mine as he brings them up past his chest and gently places them on the sides of his defined jaw. The warmth of Simon’s skin immediately sinks into my hands. My heart skips a beat. He isn’t wearing his mask.

A fearful moment of hesitancy passes between us. Neither quite sure how to proceed. This is uncharted territory. He is taking a giant leap of faith right now. Even after everything, after I said I can’t trust him, he does this. I’m not sure I completely understand his train of thought, but I know this gesture is far from the faint of heart.

“I’ll tell you everything, no hiding, just promise me you’ll keep your eyes closed,” his voice is low and cautious. I trace my thumbs back and forth along his jaw. His skin is smooth under the pads of my fingers and I get a brief hint of his woodsy aftershave.

“You don’t have to do this,” the whisper brushes across my lips, yet I can’t hide the hope behind my words. I need to know. The harrowing lies have eaten away at me for weeks. My stomach twists and growls like a starved, feral animal. I struggle to stifle the growing hunger pains.

“I want to,” yet, I’m not sure he’s fully convinced himself. This is his last chance to catch me as I’m falling through his calloused fingers. Simon knows this.

My hands leave his jaw and lightly trace upwards, just barely brushing over Simon’s face. His skin is surprisingly soft. Heat pools in his cheeks and as I move upward, I notice a rough patch of skin along his one cheekbone. Something akin to a long, jagged scar. Simon’s breathing hitches as I pause. A painful memory passes.

“What was the original plan? What was going to happen to me?” I ask, hands still on his face. Simon shifts closer. I feel the heat radiating from his body. We can’t be more than a few inches apart.

“Do you know about the second attack?” he asks.

“Bits and pieces.”

“While the exchange was happening, the demolitions unit was rigging the Ultranationalist’s nearby base. The explosion was set to go off ten minutes after they had you. It didn’t, something went wrong and the base went down early. That’s how Soap was injured. That’s what tipped the Ultranationalists off and why they started fighting in the bushes,” my hands still as he speaks. “Ideally your father would’ve taken you and left, then their base would detonate on the way back. They’d have nowhere to go and we would take control of their vehicles and capture the targets,” he finishes.

“What about everyone else?” I ask.

“Anyone caught on sight would be killed,” he replies bluntly. The gravity of his words weighs heavily on me. There were a lot of men there. Imagining their bodies lying in the snow sends a shiver down my spine. I feel his eyes on me, reading every microexpression, understanding every judgement. “That’s how it is.”

“It’s cruel.”

“Not in comparison to what they do,” I remember his visible hatred for the Ultranationalists from our night at the cabin. Clips of the videos flash in my mind. The innocent people they killed, all in the name of political power. Everything Ghost feels for them is completely justified. Killing them means saving so many more. It’s for the greater good.

My hands skim across his face. They pass over Simon’s forehead then down past his thick brows. Long eyelashes flutter under my hands. Like his other features, his nose is strong. There’s a bump along the bridge that indicates it’s been broken at least once. No doubt from his service.

“Is my mother an Ultranationalist?” The seed was planted when I learned what my father is. She had to at least know. Although making assumptions like that is dangerous, I had no idea. And look at me now.

“She’s affiliated.”

“Is that your way of being polite?”

“No,” he says. “She knew who your father was when they immigrated to America, but she was never personally involved,” Simon’s cool breath fans against my face as he speaks.

“Until now,” because of them. Because of 141.

“Until now,” he confirms.

I resent how they’ve dragged us into this. I had a life before all of this. I was happy. Now I’ll never be able to go back. I’ll never be with my family again. I’ll never be loved by them again.

“Would Price have killed her?” the words are barely above a whisper. I feel my pulse pick up and realize I’m scared to hear his answer.

“Affirmative,” he confirms and I feel my heart clench under his fist. “But not on American soil. The guns that day were loaded with blanks.”

My hands still on top of his face and I fight the urge to open my eyes. My throat tightens and I know if I speak, my voice will crack. I can almost hear his next words: she knew what she signed up for. That doesn’t change how much his answer hurts.

I inch back and start to pull away when two large hands gently wrap around my wrists.

“Stay,” Simon murmurs. That one word has more influence on me than I care to admit. It’s not a request or an order. It’s almost a plea.

I wordlessly nod and feel as Simon places my hands back on top of his face. He steps forward, closing the remaining space between us with a silent promise. I move my right hand over his full lips and trace the outline of them. My mind flickers to all the places they’ve touched, the marks they’ve decorated my skin with. The smooth feeling of them as they glided between my own. The welcoming taste of them. The feeling of his flesh between my teeth. The lies they’ve told. The promises they hold.

“One more,” I hesitate. My mouth runs dry. This could be the defining moment of my life. Everything – every damn thing - relies on his answer. “Does Price consider me to be affiliated with the Ultranationalists?”

My eyes squint tight with anticipation. Beneath my fingers, Simon wets his lips. I feel his words form against my skin before they reach my ears. “Negative,” the word is a sigh of relief between us.

I visibly relax against his strong body. Simon takes this opportunity to grab a strand of my hair and twist it between his fingers. “I was going to kill your father when he held that gun to your head,” there’s nothing bitter about his confession. The low words are a matter of fact in his mind. I’m less surprised by his confession than I thought. My hands travel back down to his jaw and trace along the length of it. I wish he did. I would have.

“Why didn’t you?” I ask.

“It’s not my choice to make,” I think about his words for a moment. Is it that simple in his mind? Their orders are capture or kill. It was his choice to make.

Unless…

Unless that isn’t what he’s referring to. My breathing falters and my mind draws a blank. I don’t know what to say. Surely he isn’t alluding to what I think he is?

I want to open my eyes. To search his face. To try and read his facial expressions.

“Simon I-” I draw a blank. How do you respond to that?

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” but I do. I already do. Even if I shouldn’t. Even if it’ll only get me hurt in the end. “But I will always tell you the truth,” his hand wraps around the outside of my own. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the pads of my fingers.

He releases me only to cup the sides of my face. Simon gently pulls me in. My concentration on keeping my eyes closed, slips, as his lips lightly skim across mine.

I don’t hesitate when I press my full body weight against his. He’s warm and sturdy and safe. Nothing else matters as his strong hands wrap around my body and wind through my hair, pulling me even closer. I don’t want to lose him. Yet I know this can’t last. There’s nothing sustainable about Ghost and I.

“Will you do something for me?” I whisper against his lips. He pauses, just for a moment, just long enough to consider all of the different things I might ask.

“What?”

“I want to see him,” I say, resting my head against the nape of his neck. “Alone.”

“There’s nothing he’ll say that will make you feel any better, y/n,” Simon brushes a gentle hand along the top of my hair. “Trust me,” There’s an unsaid “believe me, I know” after his last words. My mind flickers back to the brief mentions of his father. Of how horribly he treated his family. I can’t help but reject that comparison. Our fathers are two completely different monsters.

“I need to try,” I say. I feel him stiffen. He can’t protect me the way he wants to if I’m there alone, but I need this. I won’t have another chance. Soon they’ll ship him off to a remote location that doesn’t officially exist, never to be seen again. My window is closing.

“Okay,” he sighs. It’s barely a confirmation. Yet, his words are enough. I wonder if Ghost will run this by Price? Or will I truly be alone with my father tomorrow?

That night, after Ghost drops me off, I think of all the things I’ve wanted to say to my father in the last few weeks. Of all the things I’ve wanted to do.

I visualize a list of everything on my mind as I lie in bed. I shift and slip my hand under my pillow. My fingertips brush against the sharp tip of the cold, compact switchblade Ghost gave me that night in the cabin. It fits against my palm like it was forged specifically for my hand.

Ghost gave it to me for protection against him. Trained me how to use it with the Ultranationalist rat in mind. Never would I have ever dreamed of doing what my mind conjures up now.

I fall asleep with my hand securely wrapped around the knife.

#simon riley #cod ghost #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #he knows

56 notes · View notes

axiian19-art · 6 months ago

Text

The more I think about it the more I realize that if this guys had met under different circumstances, they would have gotten along super well.

PENACONY SPOILERS UP TO 2.2 + CHARACTER LORE / STORIES

All 4 of them have lost their entire family, 3 of them have lost their entire race / homeworld (Boothill, Aventurine, Acheron), 2 of them lost these things because they were victims of the IPC (Boothill and Aventurine), and 2 of them have either lost a sibling or are afraid of losing a sibling (Aventurine and Sunday).

More specifically:

As far as I know, Sunday and Robin's parents were killed somehow, and they were taken in by the Family. Then as Sunday said Robin ended up getting shot in the neck due to trying to help others, and I think he got some kind of trauma from that and his fear of losing Robin, his sister and only remaining family, was amplified, leading to his desire to protect "the weak" no matter the cost—because to him, keeping Robin's wings "clipped" and her alive would be less painful than her being gone, and him being alone forever.

Boothill, as I understand it, was taken in by 2 people who found him as a child, and grew up in the countryside of his planet. He later found and adopted a young girl and raised her as her own, until his entire planet was destroyed by the IPC, causing him to set out to get revenge.

Aventurine also lost his sister and his entire home planet due to the IPC + his planet's own problems, and has been forced to work for the IPC ever since. It also seems like he's trying to destroy it from the inside out or at least obtain his own freedom.

As for Acheron, her entire world, as well as her memories of it, were destroyed—she's almost certainly lost people that were important to her, like the other three.

Like honestly if they all sat down and traded backstories I feel like they'd get along super well, they're all victims of circumstance and that's why they experienced so much conflict during the story

#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai starrail #rambles #aventurine #aventurine hsr #hsr aventurine #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #sunday #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #robin #robin hsr #hsr robin #acheron #hsr acheron #acheron hsr

142 notes · View notes

mothgenes · 11 months ago

Text

My self-directed final for my digital illustration class, an illustration of this poem by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. Free Palestine.

Alt text underneath the cut.

Alt text: First image: This is an illustration contained in a white boarder with an uneven frayed appearance. In a war-torn scene absent of human life, streams of missile smoke rise from behind the central figure against a red sky that grows increasingly yellow towards the center immediately behind the central figure. The central figure is an Israeli Occupation Forces operative with his Israeli flag patch visible and a single blue eye with a white Star of David to reflect the flag inside it, the other eye consumed in shadow. The face is devoid of all visible expression, and a crack is visible coming from the shadowed eye over the clay-like skin of the soldier, meant to reference the concept of the IOF as a golem. The IOF officer raises a smoking automatic rifle and gazes down the composition with a lack of feeling. He stares down a little girl with long hair blowing in the wind who's back is to the viewer, with a bleeding crosshairs over half of her face where her eye would be. She wears a Palestinian flag over her shoulders that is also blowing in the wind, and the red triangle moves beyond its borders through the bloodstains that are on it. In the wreckage visible around the soldier, there is a fallen cross visible, close to the subtle shadow of a human hand, and destroyed buildings, bringing to mind the common lie that it is a religious conflict by reminding the viewer that churches and Palestinian Christians are also being murdered and struck with missiles. In the center of the image there is white handwritten text, of the first verse of the poem "From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. It reads, "Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?" Page 2 alt text: The background is black with a trail of red smoke crossing the composition from the bottom right up and over to the top left in an uneven organic curve. At the bottom right there is the shattered clay head of a golem in a broken army-green helmet. One eye has been shattered and most of the face has been destroyed. There is a smear of blood over a shatter mark on our left's side of the forehead of the golem, as though made by a stone from a sling intended to subtly reference David and Goliath, with the IOF as Goliath. The smear of blood covers the first of three characters that make up the text usually down on the foreheads of golems. In folktales, the way to deactivate a golem is to wipe away the first character of their text, which normally reads "emét", which is truth in Hebrew. Removing the first character makes it say "mét", which means death. This calls for the retirement of the IOF as an entity as it does not help anything- only harms. White text is the main focus of this piece. The white text reads: From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?

I did not see the bullet but felt its pain exploding in my head. His image did not vanish, the soldier with a big gun, unsteady hands, and look in his eyes I could not understand

I can see him so clearly with my eyes closed, it could be that inside our heads we each have one spare set of eyes to make up for the ones we lose

Next month, on my birthday, I'll have a brand new glass eye, maybe things will look round and fat in the middle— I've gazed through all my marbles, they made the world look strange.

I hear a nine-month old has also lost an eye, I wonder if my soldier shot her too—a soldier looking for little girls who look him in the eye— I’m old enough , almost four, I've seen enough of life, but she's just a baby who didn't know any better.

#free gaza #free palestine #gazaunderattack #gaza genocide #gaza ground invasion #palestine #hanan mikha'il ashrawi #palestinian poetry #artists for palestine #iof terrorism #fuck the iof #israel is a terrorist state

146 notes · View notes

orion-archives · 8 months ago

Text

DEVOTION POST MORTEM

TRANSFORMERS PRIME ONE-SHOT

Summary: It had happened. What Soundwave feared the most had become a reality. What would he do now that he was alone? Now that the only cybertronian he would die for... was gone?

Pairing: MegaSound (Megatron/Soundwave) [Transformers Prime]

Warnings: Major character death, slight mechanical gore (not graphic), blood.

Word count: +1700

English isn't my first lenguage. Sorry in advance for any gramatical error.

It couldn't be true. This wasn't real.

Soundwave stood in the middle of the battlefield. Energon leaked from his shoulder and injured leg, leaving drops of blue on the ground below the Decepticon.

This battle wasn't supposed to end like this. Clashing metal and gunshots could be heard all around him from the ongoing conflict. Soundwave knew they were losing; beside him a soldier fell dead to the ground with his chest destroyed.

But he didn't react to that or to the screams of his comadres that were succumbing to the Autobots or to the fire that had almost hit him in the head. No, he didn't care about that at all.

Because infront of him, there was the scene he never thought it would ever happen:

Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and last remaining Prime, holding a sword that was impaling Megatron through the abdomen.

Megatron's arms dropped as he coughed energon from his mouth in a dying breath. Optimus pulled out the sword with quick movement, making Megatron hunch back in pain as the sword sliced again his insides. He wandered around for a few seconds before falling on his knees, looking at Prime with shock and anger in his optics.

Soundwave dropped his own weapon, creating an echo when the metal of his sword hit the ground of stone. It was a dangerous move to make in the middle of a battle, but his mind wasn't focussing on logic at the time.

He rushed in a silent worry to his fallen leader, now laying in the ground as a pool of energon formed below his body. Optimus saw Soundwave approaching, but before he could do or say anything, a group of Vehicons attacked him from behind, forcing Optimus to change his focus to the opponents.

Megatron, ignoring the new overwhelming fire near him, breathed heavily as he turned around to look at the coming robot and his beating rushed when he recognized the slender figure of Soundwave, running to his side. The old gladitor of Kaon opened his mouth, trying to form a cohesive sentence to his most loyal soldier, but the only thing that came out of his throat was energon.

Soundwave kneeled beside him. His head moved quickly form side to side, analyzing the injuries to see what he could do to help his fallen leader, to make Megatron survive this battle.

But there was nothing. His visor flooded with negative answers as he saw Megatron bleeding to dead infront of him; Optimus' sword had destroyed more than met the eye.

He looked at his leader; his visor was black and emotionless as always, but Megatron could read Soundwave's feelings perfectly at that moment.

He always did.

Megatron just looked back at Soundwave and, with his fading force, he managed to grab one of Soundwave's hands that was laying on his silver chestplate.

There were no words between. But a silent plead existed in Megatron's eyes that Soundwave understood perfectly.

Don't leave me.

Soundwave grasped Megatron's hand tightly. He could only watch as the gladiator's spark vanished second by second and the red optics closed slowly. Soundwave never moved until Megatron's chest went cold and with it, his existence in the universe.

Megatron had died.

With a quick change of his arm to the shotgun, Optimus finished the last of the Vehicons that ambushed him with a single but precise shot to the chest; a quick death. He breathed heavily under the mask, tired of the exhausting combat, but turned around, remembering Soundwave running towards his position just seconds before being attacked.

The communications officer was kneeling besides Megatron's body, with his visor laying on the gladiators chest while one of his hands grabbed Megatron's unmoving claws. Soundwave wasn't crying, he wasn't screaming, but his silence carried more pain than a thoundsand words could ever do.

Optimus aproached slowly, transforming his hand back into normal.

"Soundwave" he called. The Decepticon didn't looked back, he didn't even flinch at the voice of Optimus Prime like other Decepticons would have.

But he was listening, and mind started racing, bringing back old memories:

He was working overnight, focussed completly in his job. All the other Decepticons knew that it was better to let him do his job alone; Soundwave always appeared so cryptid to others, that even without saying a word, he made other shiver and fear him.

Except one.

Heavy footsteps approached behind him. But Soundwave didn't turn around; he knew just by the noise who the footsteps belonged to.

"Working late again?" Megatron's deep, dark voice echoed through the empty room. His metalic feet created a powerful and imposing noise even when he wasn't trying to intimidate.

Soundwave nodded, continuing to work on the Iacron codes. The Decepticon leader walked up to his side and stood there; Megatron stared at the screen and then at Soundwave's quick fingers, alternating between them for a couple of minutes before walking again behind Soundwave.

"You are my most loyal and effective warrior, Soundwave" he whispered as he layed his head closer to Soundwave's hearing perceptors. "The last thing I need from you is collapsing out of exhaustion"

Soundwave's hands stopped moving across the keyboard and looked back Megatron. Their size and built was incredibly different, but at the same time, when they were together, it fit like a puzzle.

Megatron stared at Soundwave's visor. He layed his head and both decepticons shared an affectionate headbut. Soundwave felt Megatron's chest purring, deep and slow, like a old but powerful engine from a tank, as the leader moved his head with Soundwave's.

"Don't overwork yourself" Megatron purred before stepping back. "That's an order, Soundwave"

Soundwave saw as he walked away, leaving a warm sensation in his spark behind even after Megatron had left the room.

"I know you were extremely loyal to him, Soundwave"

Optimus voice brought back Soundwave to the present. He still didn't move to look at the Auotobot leader.

"But it's time to change, you know that" spoke Optimus with calmness. His expression changed to something between pity and frustration as he looked at the dead body. "Megatron chose to continue in this dark path that led to his demise... I don't want you to do the same and end like him, Soundwave"

Soundwave's grasp on Megatron's cold hand strengthened. Another memory flooded his mind as the battle around continued:

He was laying beside Megatron. He could feel as Megatron's chest went up and down, slowly, as his leader reacharged.

The Deception army had tons of rumors and myths about Megatron. One of them, is that he didn't need recharging and was fulled only by anger and his constant need of conquer.

But as unstopable and dangerous as Megatron was, he was still just another cybertronian, with the same needs as anyone else. That included recharging from time to time.

Megatron slept in private. He didn't like the idea of being vulnerable in an exposed environment, especially with Starscream nearby. Sometimes, he would just lock himself in his private quarters and recharge for a couple of hours before returning.

But other times, he and Soundwave had a moment of peace where they would lay with each other and recharge as long as they could. Soundwave adored every second that he could spend with Megatron, even if it was just seeing him recharge and feel his spark's beating.

Soundwave snuggled even more close to Megatron, laying his visor on the leader's chest and letting himself enjoy the peace and quiet of the moment.

Back in the present, he was laying his head in the same place, but now the only thing he felt from Megatron was cold and an eternal silence from his spark.

"Soundwave, please..." begged Optimus. "I understand your pain; Megatron was a friend to me once, even a brother... But we must let go now and look into the future of both Decepticons and Autobots"

Soundwave listened to the Prime's words as a brewing anger started to grow beneath his chest:

There he was again, with Megatron. Both were in their alternate forms, flying through the black, empty space around them outside the Nemesis.

They flew with a synchrony that even the most graceful cybertronians back then could have just dreamed of archiving. There was no previous practice or warning needed for them to move in harmony as they danced across the stars.

In one moment, both of them transformed back into their normal forms, with Soundwave floating a little above from Megatron. They looked at each other with something stronger than the Allspark itself.

Megatron extended his arms as Soundwave descended slowly to him. Once he had catched his partner, Megatron laid his head on Soundwave's visor, smiling with his perceptors closed.

"I love you" purred Megatron as he and Soundwave shared the same warm and calmness from their sparks.

They both drifted in space, caring about nothing else but each other's company. That was all what mattered to them at that moment.

"Soundwave?"

Optimus looked at the Decepticon. He hadn't responded or even moved since he had finished talking. The air was charged with smoke and cries of the battle, surrounding both cybertronians. There was now a big puddle of energon below Megatron's dead body.

Then, out of nowhere, Soundwave looked at him. And Optimus, for the first time since he had gotten close to Soundwave, felt daggers of fear as time seemed to froze between them.

Soundwave's silence was charged with something more powerful and dangerous than anger or sadness: Hate.

The Decepticon played a recording of Megatron's voice, a full sentence without other clips that wasn't directed towards Optimus, but made the message clear to Prime.

"You mean more to me than you could ever imagine, Soundwave..."

That was more than enough than any other word that Soundwave himself could have said at that moment. Optimus looked at him, his eyes showing pity.

"Very well, Soundwave" Optimus changed his arm to a sword. His voice carried pain. "I'm sorry"

Soundwave grabbed tightly another weapon that was laying on the ground and both robots charged against each other.

As energon flew around them and the swords clashed in an echo, Soundwave could just think about one thing, having processed everything inside his head:

He would be loyal to Megatron, even if that meant dying with and for him.

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers fanfiction #megasound #megatron #soundwave #optimus prime #tfp megasound #tfp megatron #tfp soundwave #tfp optimus prime #tfp fanfic #maccadam #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #one shot

81 notes · View notes

currentlyherlunch · 19 days ago

Text

REDEMPTION

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted him to die thinking I hated him?"”

• Ellie and Abby finally have the conversation

• cw: Violence, Death, Emotional Trauma, Psychological Abuse, Internal Conflict, Hallucinations, Guilt, Regret.

"I killed him again in my head, every day. Every time I think of him, it's like I'm killing him all over again."

Abby pov & Ellie pov.

The storm outside raged like a warning, with thunder echoing around the abandoned factory. The rain fell heavy and cold, the sound of the drops mixing with Ellie and Abby’s heavy breathing. The two were facing each other, the silence thick with anger and hurt, like at any moment the air between them was going to explode.

Abby watched Ellie, her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes hard. Ellie’s presence was like a wound that never healed, always reopening, exposing all the pain of the past. "It's his blood in your veins!" Abby spat, her voice thick with bitterness, each word like an accusation.

Ellie felt the weight of that sentence like a punch. His name was like a blade cutting through her chest, and hearing it from Abby only made the pain worse. But instead of backing down, she took a step forward, her eyes burning with a mix of hate and something deeper that she couldn’t even identify. "Then why the hell are YOU acting like him?" she shot back, her voice sharp and full of resentment.

Ellie’s words hit Abby hard, and for a moment, her expression changed. But Abby forced herself to keep her posture, trying to mask the pain those words brought. Ellie continued, her voice now shaky, but still full of intensity: "If you hate him so much, why are you acting just like him? And no, I don’t have his blood in my veins. But he was ALL I HAD!"

Ellie’s voice broke at the end, echoing through the empty space of the factory. That wasn’t just an accusation; it was a confession of a pain she had never let anyone see. Joel was more than a father to her; he was the bond that kept her connected to the world, the safety net she had brutally lost and could never replace.

"He was all I had," Ellie repeated, almost like a whisper, as if she were talking to herself, realizing the depth of that feeling. The echo of her words filled the emptiness around them, as the world seemed to close in on silence.

Abby closed her eyes for a second, absorbing those words. She’d lost people too, sacrificed everything in the name of a revenge that, instead of setting her free, chained her even more. But somehow, hearing this from Ellie... it touched a part of her she tried to ignore.

"You’re not the only one who lost everything, Ellie," Abby said, her voice heavy with deep exhaustion. "He destroyed my family, my life... and I did the same to you."

They were two broken figures, caught in the same cycle of violence.

The silence stretched between them, like a fragile bridge. Ellie took a deep breath, fighting against the rage and sadness. "Joel did what he did... because he loved me. He sacrificed everything for me, can’t you understand that? That’s something you don’t know, Abby. He gave me a second chance, a purpose. And you took that from me."

Abby stayed silent, her eyes fixed on Ellie. "You think I don’t get losing the people you love? You think you’re the only one who knows what it’s like to live with scars?" Her voice, harsh and low, sounded almost like a confession, a release she’d never allowed herself to make to anyone. "I followed you here because I thought I could end this, but maybe... maybe I was just trying to find someone who understood."

"Understand?" Ellie gave a dry laugh, incredulous. "There’s nothing that connects us, Abby. Nothing!"

Abby’s gaze hardened, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Ellie was right there, like a knife in her soul, exposing wounds Abby thought were closed. Ellie’s words were cruel, but they touched something inside her, a part she preferred to ignore.

Her eyes were red, her fists clenched. "You think your dad would sacrifice you for the damn cure? Would you sacrifice Lev, Abby?"

The mention of Lev made Abby’s chest tighten instantly. Lev, the boy she protected, who had become almost a part of her, a reason to keep living. Ellie had hit her deepest wound, the one thing that truly scared her. She fell silent, but her hands trembled slightly. The thought of losing Lev... Abby couldn’t even imagine it.

Abby stayed silent for a moment, feeling the weight of Ellie’s words. She tried to swallow the anger, but the mention of Lev threw her off balance. The image of the boy flashed in her mind, his shy smile, the way he trusted her with a vulnerability she never wanted to betray.

"No, Ellie," Abby started, her voice trembling with a sincerity she rarely allowed. "I... I would never sacrifice Lev. He’s—"

"Exactly like Joel," Ellie interrupted, cutting her words with unrelenting coldness. Abby felt the blow, like Ellie had ripped the air from her lungs. Those words, raw and direct, struck deep.

"You’re exactly like Joel," Ellie continued, her face twisted with anger and pain. "He loved me more than anything, did what he did thinking he was saving me, protecting me... but he destroyed everything in his path. You’re doing the same for Lev, aren’t you? Justifying everything you did... just because someone depends on you."

Abby stayed still, each word from Ellie shattering her, but she couldn’t react. It was like looking into a distorted mirror, where the choices she thought were justified seemed to turn into something dark, selfish.

"I... I'm not like him," Abby murmured, but the conviction in her voice wavered. "I'm not... I'm not a monster."

"Not? You're not like him?" Ellie spat, taking another step forward, the space between them making the air heavy, suffocating. "Then look around, Abby. Look at us, look at what’s left after your revenge. How many lives did we destroy? How many people did we leave broken?"

Abby’s breath quickened, but she couldn’t find a response. She never wanted to be like Joel, never wanted to be a monster in Ellie’s eyes, or even in her own. But there, under Ellie’s direct accusation, she didn’t know what else to say.

Ellie stepped closer, fury consuming each word that left her mouth. "I’ve killed you a thousand times in my head, Abby. A thousand times! But now, if I do it… ah! Then he’ll be left alone. Alone, just like I am. You get it? HE'LL BE ALONE, ABBY! Just like me, just like YOU made me be! What we did, there’s no coming back from it!"

Abby felt a pressure in her chest. It was like something inside her had broken, something she didn’t even know was still there. Ellie was right. The cycle of violence, the pain, the revenge... it was destroying both of them, with no one coming out unscathed. Lev, the boy she was trying to protect, a reflection of what she lost, could now be thrown into the same storm of hatred. But still, she couldn’t back down.

"I never wanted it to be like this..." Abby tried, her voice trembling, though she was doing her best to hold it together. But Ellie didn’t let her finish.

"You did!" Ellie shouted, her voice cutting through with an intensity that shook Abby to her bones. "You’ve wanted this from the start! You wanted me to pay! And now, do you see what it’s done? Do you see what’s happened to us? You think Lev will be different? You think he’ll be able to escape this?"

Abby blinked, feeling the pressure.

Abby couldn’t hold back anymore. The weight of anger, guilt, and pain pushed her to a breaking point. She was on the verge of breaking, but she needed to say what was choking her inside. She looked directly at Ellie, her breath heavy, eyes brimming with tears not just from anger but from the deep wound she had carried for so long.

"He killed the most important person to me, Ellie," Abby said in a hoarse voice, a mix of pain and outrage. "What did you want me to do? I saw my life being destroyed right in front of my eyes. You think I could just... ignore it? He destroyed everything I loved, everything I had! I just wanted him to feel what I felt. I had nothing left!"

Ellie stared at her, her face marked by the pain of her own losses, but Abby kept going without stopping.

"You think this was easy? You think it was a simple choice?" Abby screamed, frustration spilling out. "I didn’t want to live for revenge. I didn’t want to destroy you. But you have to understand, Ellie... he killed my dad. He killed my family. He stole the future I had planned. You want me to just stand there, waiting for life to continue? He did that, and the only thing I wanted was for him to pay. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT'S LIKE!"

Ellie stayed silent, her eyes fixed on Abby, but her words were still trapped. Abby felt the weight of those sentences leaving her mouth, as if she was finally laying her cards on the table. But nothing could erase what had already happened.

"And Lev?" Abby continued, calmer now, but still filled with deep suffering. "I never wanted him to suffer because of me, Ellie. I never wanted him to go through the same hell I did. But he chose to stay with me, he chose to follow me. And now, all I do is try to protect him, but it’s hard when the world only gives us this: pain. And don’t come at me saying it’s my fault. Because I didn’t ask for this."

Ellie wanted to scream, wanted to pull away from all of this, but Abby's words kept her there, firmly anchored in the storm that had formed between them. Her anger was fading, but in its place came another feeling, harder to process: understanding. Even though she still hated her, even though everything inside her screamed for revenge, Abby's words were sinking in, as if their wounds were somehow intertwined.

"I didn't ask you to do this to me, Abby," Ellie said, her voice lower, almost broken. "I didn't ask you to take Joel away from me. I didn't ask for this pain you caused me. But you can't just... justify what you did. The pain you caused me. The pain you caused yourself. You can't put all of this on him, or anyone else. He did what he did, yes. But you also chose this path. And it brought you here. Now, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna keep walking this path to the end and destroy everything around you?"

"I don't want to forgive you, Abby," Ellie whispered. "But I also can't carry this forever."

Abby nodded, as if she understood. "I don’t expect your forgiveness."

Ellie stood there, frozen, eyes fixed on some distant point, as if the very memory of what happened was about to drag her into an abyss. The silence between them felt like a weight, something pressing harder and harder on Abby's chest, but she knew she needed to hear what Ellie had to say. Whatever it was, she had to listen.

"Do you think this was easy?" Ellie suddenly said, her voice low, but cutting like glass. "Do you think I wanted this to end like this?" She took a deep breath, and the anger spilling from her words now mixed with something darker, something deeper. "Joel died thinking I hated him. He died thinking I was happy with him dead, Abby. And you have no idea what it's like to live with that."

Abby froze, her heart pounding. She didn't know how to respond. She wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Ellie's suffering was far deeper than she could ever imagine.

"I saw him there, Abby. I saw him lying on the ground, bleeding. I saw the life leaving him... and what did I do?" Ellie let out a bitter laugh, almost like a choked sob. "I looked at him, and the only thing I could do was... say nothing. I couldn’t tell him I loved him, Abby. I couldn’t. I just looked at him and let him think I hated him, that he had destroyed everything. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t say that wasn’t true."

She took a step forward, eyes wide, intense with pain. "I killed him again, do you understand that? I killed him again in my head, every day. Every time I think of him, it’s like I’m killing him again. Because he died thinking I really hated him, and that pain... that’s the worst of all, Abby. He... he died with the certainty that I... that I wished he was dead. I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t say a word, and he left thinking I felt nothing. And that... that’s what consumes me. That’s what breaks me every day."

Ellie's voice wavered, and she seemed to pay attention to her own words, as if she was trying to find some kind of answer within herself, some way to justify what she did. But instead, the anger returned.

"And you know what’s the worst, Abby? I didn’t want this. I didn’t want him to die thinking I hated him, but hate... hate is easier to carry. I was so... I was so full of rage at him, for everything he did, for everything he made me do, that... I couldn’t see anything beyond that. I couldn’t see the man he was. The father he was to me. He died thinking I hated him until the end, and that... that’s what destroys me the most. He left with that lie in his head."

Ellie moved closer, now right in front of Abby, and the intensity of the pain in her eyes made the air feel heavy, unbearable. "I had hallucinations of him, Abby. I saw him all the time after he died. I saw him standing there, in front of me, looking at me with those eyes... telling me I was doing everything wrong, accusing me, telling me I had destroyed everything. I saw him and heard his voice telling me he could never forgive me, that I killed him again, that I killed what was left of us. He was there, condemning me, showing me how alone I was... and I didn’t know... I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m losing my mind. I don’t know if he’s still here, or if it’s just my head torturing me."

Abby felt her body give way with Ellie’s words. Each sentence was like a blow hitting her, each word a piece of Ellie’s pain embedding itself into her too. She didn’t know what to say, how to apologize for something she didn’t even understand. She wanted to scream, but instead, she stayed there, in silence, feeling the weight of what Ellie had shared.

"I... I don’t know what to do with this," Ellie whispered, almost in despair, her eyes lost somewhere beyond Abby, as if she was trying to figure out how to get out of it all. "I don’t know what to do with what I did, with what he thought until the end. I’m the reason he died thinking I hated him, and there’s no going back, Abby. There’s no wiping this away. He... he didn’t deserve this."

Ellie took a step back, as if exhausted from carrying those words, exhausted from holding that pain inside. "And that’s why I can’t... I can’t forgive you, because the pain you caused me is the same pain I caused myself."

Abby looked at Ellie, not knowing what to say. What could she say in the face of so much pain, so much truth? There were no words to return what Ellie had lost. There was nothing she could do to heal the wounds that were now exposed. But she knew, without a doubt, that the anger and hatred between them weren’t the same anymore. They were sinking into the same pain, the same ghosts, and the only thing left was silence, heavy, suffocating.

"I just... wanted him to know, Abby," Ellie murmured, her voice broken, almost a whisper. "I wanted him to know I loved him. And that, deep down, I knew he did what he did for me. But I couldn’t... I couldn’t say that in time."

Abby just stared at her, helpless, feeling Ellie’s pain as an echo of her own. She knew that, somehow, what remained between them now was something that neither anger nor hate could fix.

#ellie williams #abby anderson #abby the last of us #both

21 notes · View notes

superbrieflightstudentlove · 2 months ago

Text

The destruction and disrespect of Luke in the Disney "Canon"

Hello, any Original EU/"Legends" Star Wars fans here? I wanted to share some of my opinions about the current Disney Canon not only in terms of the movies, but also their comics and novels too. So let's start with my biggest gripe - the handling of Luke Skywalker, once the main hero of the beloved franchise.

We already know that Disney hates Luke Skywalker for the crime of being a "white, heterosexual guy" aka not diverse enough for modern woke politics. We all know how they handled him in the "Sequel Trilogy", the less said about that, the better. Their novels also try very hard to throw as much shade (and many times outright hate and contemp) at him as they could and portray his twin sister Leia as the superior one in every way, whether it's Force potential, mental resilience, emotional control or even moral compass.

Their comics from what I heard tend to be somewhat kinder to him, to a point, but even then some writers are just itching to portray him as lame and as much of a failure as possible. One such instance that pissed me off was when I heard that in one of the comics taking place after "Empire Strikes Back", Luke encounters another Force sensitive, a young woman who is also an aspiring Jedi, who somehow manages to get into Luke's mind deep enough to see the nemory of Darth Vader telling him that he is Luke's father. Immediately afterwards, she manages to trap Luke inside a nearby hole and use her Force Powers to fill it with water. Luke somehow forgot how to use his own Force Powers (even after being trained by Yoda himself for months and enough to impress even his father Darth Vader during their battle at Bespin, even though it was clear that Luke was still no match for him by that point, Luke's progress was still big enough to leave an impression on Vader), and literally drowns there. Yes, you read that correctly. Luke doesn't just almost die, he actually temporarily dies for real, before Artoo zips the Force Sensitive gal unconscious and resustitiates Luke back to life. Now I don't know who this Force Sensitive girl was, it's possible that she might have been at least partially trained Padawan during the Clone Wars, who somewhow avoided being slaughtered during Order 66 like Reva, but it seems quite unlikely. From what I heard, I got the impression that she was still young around the timeline of the "Original Trilogy", around Luke's age, so if she was raised in the Temple of the Old Order, she must have been still youngling, just like Reva was. So how come Luke, at this point in his training, was completely unable to defend himself against someone who is in most likelihood just a beginner, while he should be just as advanced if not more so considering by whom he was trained and that not that long from now, he is going to go toe to toe with Vader himself?

Now we know that Disney tried to portray Luke as average, or even below average, so no Jedi Prodigy here, despite being the son of the literal Chosen One and according to George Lucas inheriting the same Force Potential as his father, but they still have to fit this somehow with the original movies, yet I find it hard to believe that if Luke was this much of a weakling, he would be able to stand against Vader in the "Return of the Jedi". Even if you say that Vader was just that emotionally conflicted and torned apart by having to fight his own son, so he held massively back, it still doesn't explain why would Emperor Palpatine even agree to Vader's proposition to turn Luke to the Dark Side and make him one of his apprentices. What would be the point? He needs a strong replacement for Vader, considering he is paranoid that his "old friend" is getting some rebellious ideas into overthrowing him, and if Luke can't provide a reasonable alternative, why just not destroy the young man outright and be done with it? It's honestly strange. I know that Disney stated that Vader never lost his potential even after Mustafar unlike in the original EU and Lucas' vision for the OT and PT movies, so it might make perfect sense for Vader to be naturally much stronger than Luke and that he was always just going easy on him and that's why Luke managed to get the upper hand on the Death Star, if they didn't want to keep the fact that Luke inherited his father's full potential from the old EU, but they also made their version of Vader not caring about Luke nowhere near as much as the old one did. He even actively attempts to kill Luke after Bespin in one of his comics. This is after he knows this is his son, the only thing of his beloved wife left in the world. In fact they made Vader's redemption almost entirely about Padmé, rather than Luke in his own right. It's after Darth Vader investigates his wife's death and sees a video of her saying on her deathbed that there is still good in him, that brings his old self to the surface, not the fact he finally found out he has a son that he presumed was dead for two decades because of his actions. And after the Emperor whoops Vader's ass again, he forgets even about his wife's words on her deathbed, and actively tries to murder their child. Lovely. But of course when it comes to Padme's identical Handmaidens, especially Sabé who looks most like her, he stops his hand. Even when he was still Anakin, they made him even more obsessed with her than he already was in the PT or anywhere in the old EU material and that says a lot. In one of their books he even thinks about how for Padmé he would burn the whole galaxy down, sacrifice everything and everyone else dear to him, including their own unborn child. And I swear that I saw some people on Tumblr sharing excerpts of this, swooning how romantic this is.

On one of their next encounters, he gets turned on on Luke's fear of him and says something along the lines of only sparing him because his Master ordered him to. Heck even Palpatine seems to bizarelly care about Luke more than Vader does, when he is shown worrying that Vader might kill Luke despite the fact that it was originally Vader who convinced Palpatine in "Empire Strikes Back" to spare him, declaring him as "just a boy". So why the sudden going easy on my clearly incompetent weakling of a son in the final movie? Siths despise weakness! What is the point of luring Luke to the Dark Side if he is always going to be just a slightly above average Force user, even with proper training? Remember Vader believed in the second movie that Luke's potential in the Force is big enough to finally make a difference in his fight against Palpatine in order to overthrow him! This is after Vader beats the absolute shit out of Luke on Bespin, yet still believes his son has enough of a potential to be a serious threat against the Emperor once fully trained. This might be just a wishful thinking on Vader's part, but the fact that Palpatine agreed to his proposal to turn Luke speaks volumes about his talent and potential in the Force. It's clearly not just a father's sentimentality or nostalgic feelings involved.

What is even more insulting is, they made Luke to be beaten up pretty badly by a random Imperial Guard when he surrendered to Vader on Endor. This is shortly before their meeting, yet in the movie, Luke appears perfectly healthy and without any bruises or injuries when he faced his father for a private little chit chat before he is brought to Palpatine. Why did Luke, at this point a very skilled Force User, let himself be beaten without any resistance? Alright, I understand he was trying to lay low for his plan to work and not get himself killed when he is unarmed and outnumbered, but why is there no physical evidence of it in the movie itself? What is the point of even including it in the first place then?

And don't get me started on making Sabé try to kill Luke too after she finds out whose son he is. She was one of the closest, if not the closest companions and dear friends of his mother. It is even implied that she was in love with Padmé, however unreciprocated it was. Now the weirdness of being sexually and romantically attracted to someone almost identical to you aside, she has sworn a solem vow to protect her Queen with everything she has got, even laying down her life for her if need be, which she stated she is perfectly happy to do directly to Padmé's face no less. After her death, she, alongside every other Handmaiden, vowed to get revenge for their Queen's death and Anakin's death too (they saw both of them as heroes and didn't know that Anakin became Vader. To them Vader was the one who killed them). They even created an organisation within the Rebel Forces called Amidalans for this purpose.

Now, it's true that at first Sabé was forced to work with Vader against her will and wanted to kill him, but after she discovered his true identity as Anakin Skywalker, she began to view him in a different light and started to cooperate willingly. She agreed to help him overthrow the Emperor and to crown him instead. She starts to think how ineffective the Republic was and how the Empire in the right hands would be a much better system of governance. How she came to the conclusion that exchanging one genocidical maniac for yet another one is a good thing, is anyone's guess but here we go. Funnily enough, she even thinks that she (Sabé) is the one who can redeem him and bring him back to the light based on Padmé's words that there is still good in Vader.

After Vader grows tired of her and kicks her out of his servises, she develops an ingenious plan to test Luke on whether he is susceptible into following his father's footsteps, prepared to kill him if he shows any signs of anger, by literally ambushing him, shooting at him relentlessly and threatening one of his allies at gunpoint. Unbelievable. This absolutely hypocritical ass even dares to call him a Sith to his face when he is just defending himself after he crushes her sniper, which you know, she was just using to shoot at him. Why she thinks she has any moral highround here to play a judge, jury and executioner over a life of someone who did nothing to warrant it, just because he happenes to share DNA with someone is beyond me, especially since not so long ago, she was happily serving Vader herself and even considered him a viable option for a galactic ruler. What's funny, is that the other Handmaidens even pointed out how by joining Vader and the Empire, she is going against everything Padmé stood for and if she was still alive, she wouldn't approve of Sabé's actions in the slightest. She even chose Vader over the rest of the Handmaidens at some point, yet she has the gall to play a morally superior being and judging her Queen's child's character while she herself is morally compromised and far from being a saint, by playing sick, twisted mind games with Luke with the intention to hurt him and potentionally kill him for the crime of being related to the same man she was fine working for not so long ago.

Yes, Luke might be Vader's son, but he is also Padmé's son, and as far as Sabé knows, her only child (she doesn't know about Leia). Does that mean nothing to her? Why be willing to sympathize with your Queen's genocidical, mass murdering, child killing hubby (she knows that he was the one who marched on the Jedi Temple and killed everyone inside, including the younglings) and wanting to make him the absolute ruler of the known universe based on nothing but the words of a dying woman you once served when he has shown absolutely no indication that he deserves it, just the opposite in fact, but not be willing to extent the same courtesy to your Queen's innocent child that has yet to do anything bad. In fact, she knows that Luke is a War Hero who works for the Rebellion and destroyed the first Death Star, so you would assume that he is far more deserving of her loyalty and protection than Vader ever was.

What is happening here? How could Disney lost the plot so much? This is such an inconsistent, illogical mess. All the characters are massacred beyond reason.

But what do you think? Let me know in the comments.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legends #anti Disney Star Wars #Luke Skywalker #Leia Organa #Darth Vader #Sabé

12 notes · View notes

bigsoftmarshmallow · 1 month ago

Text

How would The Ganondorfs (Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Hyrule Warriors, and Tears of the Kingdom) & Demise react to after searching for the Triforce endlessly… it turns out to be their SO?

Their SO is the living personification of the Triforce, of power, wisdom, and courage altogether in harmony. They have no idea. In order to extract the physical Triforce within them… they would have to die.

The revelation that their SO is the living personification of the Triforce would profoundly shake the Ganondorfs and Demise to their core. For each of these embodiments of ambition and power, the Triforce has always represented the key to their ultimate victory. To discover that the very thing they sought was within their beloved all along—and that they would need to kill them to claim it—would throw them into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Thoughts: Wind Waker Ganondorf is a tragic figure, obsessed with restoring the lost greatness of his people. When he discovers that his SO is the Triforce, the realization that he must kill them to reclaim the ultimate power would fill him with sorrow and rage. Deep down, he still has humanity, and this revelation would force him to confront whether his ambitions are worth the cost of losing the one person he truly loves.

Scene:

Ganondorf stood frozen in the moonlit chamber, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. His SO, the one he had shared countless plans and dreams with, stood before him, a shimmering glow subtly emanating from their very being.

"You... you are the Triforce," he muttered, disbelief heavy in his voice. "All this time… it was inside you."

His fists clenched at his sides, his stormy eyes reflecting the inner turmoil. For so long, he had dreamed of this moment—of holding the Triforce in his grasp, reshaping the world, reclaiming his people's lost glory. But to claim it now would mean losing them forever.

"They never told me…" His voice was thick with emotion as he stared at them. "To take the Triforce from you… I would have to destroy you."

They took a step forward, reaching out to touch his hand. "You don’t have to do this. You don’t need the Triforce to prove your strength or reclaim what you��ve lost."

He pulled away, his expression hardening, but the conflict in his heart was clear. "What choice do I have? Everything I've fought for… everything I am depends on that power."

But even as he said the words, his heart wasn’t in it. Could he truly live in a world where they no longer existed? Could he sacrifice them for his dream?

In the silence that followed, Ganondorf turned away, his broad shoulders tense with unspoken pain. "I have conquered kingdoms… but this… I cannot do."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Thoughts: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf is driven almost solely by his lust for power. He has a deep-seated need to dominate, and the Triforce represents his claim to absolute control. When he learns that his SO is the living Triforce, his first reaction would be fury. But as the weight of what it means begins to settle, even he would find himself hesitating—perhaps for the first time in his life.

Scene:

"Impossible!" Ganondorf roared, slamming his fist against the stone wall. "How can you be the Triforce? This cannot be!"

His SO stood before him, calm in the face of his rage. "It’s true. I didn’t know either… but now that we do, you understand what it means."

Ganondorf’s fiery eyes blazed with fury, his chest heaving as he struggled to contain his emotions. For years—decades—he had sought the Triforce. And now, it was within his grasp, but the price was too steep.

He stepped closer, looming over them with a menacing presence. "You think this changes anything? I will do what I must—what I have always done."

But the words rang hollow. His SO placed a hand on his chest, directly over his heart, and he froze. Their touch was so gentle, so full of understanding. "If you take the Triforce from me, I’ll be gone. You’ll lose me."

Ganondorf’s lips curled into a snarl, but his hand hovered uncertainly in the air. "I do not need… attachments," he spat. Yet, even as he said it, his hand trembled.

For the first time, he found himself at a crossroads he never expected. Power or them? Could he truly choose power over the only person who had stood by him all this time?

With a sharp breath, he turned his back on them, his voice a low growl. "Damn the gods… damn them all." He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not this time.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Thoughts: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is cold, calculating, and pragmatic. His pursuit of the Triforce has always been driven by a desire for ultimate control, but unlike his Ocarina of Time counterpart, he is capable of deeper reflection. Realizing that his SO is the Triforce would force him to question everything he thought he knew about power and destiny.

Scene:

Ganondorf’s golden eyes stared at his SO, no hint of his usual bravado present. The air around them was still, heavy with the weight of the revelation. His fingers twitched, the knowledge that the Triforce lay within them gnawing at his mind.

"All this time," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion. "The power I sought was within you."

His SO nodded slowly, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking. "Yes… and now you know. But to claim it, I would have to die."

Ganondorf said nothing, his sharp mind racing. He could feel the temptation to seize this moment—to take what was rightfully his. The allure of ultimate power had always been his driving force, the single unrelenting goal of his life.

And yet, looking at them now, the cold logic that usually guided him faltered. What would his kingdom be without them? What would power mean if it required their sacrifice?

He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over them. "Do you realize what this means?" His voice was measured, cold. "I could kill you now and take what is mine."

His SO met his gaze fearlessly. "You could. But you won’t."

For a long moment, neither spoke. Finally, Ganondorf’s lips curled into a slight smirk. "You think you know me so well, don’t you?"

They smiled softly, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "Better than anyone."

He exhaled sharply, his hands coming to rest on their shoulders. "Perhaps you do." He leaned down, his forehead pressing against theirs. "Fate is cruel, isn’t it?"

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Thoughts: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf, the most war-hungry and ambitious of them all, would react with immediate anger. The realization that the one person he trusted harbored the Triforce within them, and that he would need to kill them to extract it, would be infuriating. But at the same time, he is a master tactician—he would begin to think of ways to work around the problem.

Scene:

Ganondorf’s eyes flared with crimson light as he processed the truth. His SO—the one person he had fought alongside, trusted, and maybe even loved—was the living personification of the Triforce.

"You’ve been hiding this from me," he growled, his voice dripping with accusation.

They shook their head, stepping toward him cautiously. "I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t."

His hands balled into fists, his entire body trembling with barely controlled rage. "I could take it from you now. I could end you and have what I’ve sought for centuries."

"But you won’t," they said firmly, standing their ground.

He towered over them, his presence imposing and terrifying, yet there was hesitation in his movements. As much as he hated to admit it, the thought of killing them twisted something deep inside him.

"You think I care about you more than the Triforce?" he snarled, but there was doubt in his voice. "What makes you so sure?"

They took his hand, placing it gently over their heart. "Because we’ve been through too much for you to lose me like this."

For a long moment, Ganondorf simply stared at them, his fury dissipating, replaced by a deep sense of frustration. With a guttural growl, he ripped his hand away and turned his back. "I will not sacrifice you for power… not yet."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Thoughts: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, twisted by Zonai magic and centuries of darkness, would feel an overwhelming sense of betrayal at first. His obsession with power is absolute, and the thought that the one he loves is the Triforce would be too much to bear. Yet, unlike the others, this Ganondorf has experienced deep loss and grief—his SO’s death may not be something he could endure.

Scene:

Ganondorf’s voice was deadly quiet as the truth dawned on him. His SO stood before him, their eyes glowing faintly with the light of the Triforce. His whole body trembled with barely contained rage.

"You…" His voice cracked with disbelief. "You are the Triforce?"

They nodded slowly, tears welling in their eyes. "I didn’t know, Ganondorf. I swear, I didn’t know."

For a moment, he said nothing, his mind racing. His entire purpose, his very existence, had been tied to obtaining the Triforce. And now, it was within his grasp—but at the cost of the only person he had ever truly loved.

"I could kill you," he said, his voice hollow. "I could take it."

They reached for him, but he pulled back, his face contorted with inner conflict. "I don’t want to lose you," they whispered.

Ganondorf’s hands trembled, his rage dissipating into something darker—sorrow, grief. With a guttural growl, he turned away, his voice barely audible. "Damn the Triforce. Damn it all."

Demise

Thoughts: Demise would be furious at first. The idea that his SO, the personification of all that he has sought to dominate, had unknowingly concealed such immense power would feel like the ultimate betrayal. His rage would push him to consider taking their life for the power he craves, but a deeper part of him would hesitate—after all, they have always been the embodiment of strength to him. Killing them would leave him without the one being that had matched him.

Scene:

The flames surrounding Demise roared to life as he glared at his SO, his white-hot fury casting shadows that danced across the walls.

"You—you are the Triforce?!" His voice was a growl of pure wrath, fire crackling in the air around him. "All this time… I’ve been searching for it… and it was you?"

They stepped toward him, unafraid. "I didn’t know. Demise, I swear—"

He raised his hand, and flames burst from his fingers, though they never touched them. "I could destroy you right now! End you, and claim the power for myself!"

For a moment, the fire surged, but then—just as suddenly—it died down. His hands lowered, his red eyes burning with something darker than fury: confusion.

"I could…" he muttered to himself, his expression clouded.

They took a tentative step closer. "But you won’t. You don’t need to do this. We’re stronger together, Demise. I know you see that."

Demise’s chest heaved, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he stared at them. His instinct was to crush everything in his path, to claim ultimate power. But now…

The fire around him dimmed, and he slowly lowered his head. "You may be right," he growled. "For now."

Each version of Ganondorf and Demise would grapple with the ultimate choice between love and power, forcing them to confront their deepest desires and what they are truly willing to sacrifice for it.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

BONUS ADD ON: What if the SO was willing to die for their lover to have the Triforce? If they loved him enough to offer to end their own existence if he wanted it?

The offer from their SO to willingly give their life for the Triforce would create a powerful emotional crossroads for each Ganondorf and Demise. For some, it would be a test of their deepest nature—whether their thirst for power outweighs their capacity for love. For others, it might serve as a final breaking point, forcing them to reconsider everything they thought they valued. Their responses would range from anger to sorrow, and ultimately, it would bring them face to face with the one thing they have tried to suppress: vulnerability.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Thoughts: Wind Waker Ganondorf, the most introspective and tragic of the versions, would be shaken by their SO’s willingness to die for him. Deep down, his drive for power stems from a desire to restore the Gerudo to their former glory, but he is no stranger to loss. The offer would stir something in him, forcing him to question whether victory is worth the price of love.

Scene:

The wind howled through the chamber as his SO stood before him, their eyes soft but resolute. "If this is what you want, Ganondorf… if the Triforce is what you need, I’ll give it to you. I’ll die for it."

Ganondorf’s chest tightened, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "You would sacrifice yourself for me?"

His SO nodded, stepping closer. "I love you enough to let you have what you’ve always wanted. If it means you can bring peace to your people, then I’ll do it."

Ganondorf’s lips curled into a snarl, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "You think I want this?! To watch you die so I can claim some fleeting power?!"

They reached for his hand, but he pulled away, pacing across the room like a caged beast. "For years, I have dreamed of wielding the Triforce, of reshaping this world in my image. But now…"

He turned back to them, his expression softening, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "Now I see what I would lose. No kingdom, no power, is worth your life."

Tears glistened in their eyes, and they rushed to him, throwing their arms around his neck. For a moment, he stood stiffly, but then, with a heavy sigh, his arms wrapped around them, pulling them close.

"You will live," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I will not take this from you."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Thoughts: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf, who is defined by his lust for power, would initially be tempted. The offer to claim the Triforce through their sacrifice would align perfectly with his ambitions. But as his SO made the ultimate offer, he would find himself at war with something deeper—the rare and unfamiliar feeling of love. It would force him to confront a side of himself he’d long buried.

Scene:

"You would give up your life for me to have the Triforce?" Ganondorf’s voice was low, dangerous, as he stared at his SO, trying to comprehend the enormity of their words.

They nodded, calm in their resolve. "I love you. If this is what you truly want, I’ll give it to you. I won’t stand in your way."

Ganondorf’s eyes flickered with something darker—hunger, perhaps. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he stepped closer, towering over them. "You are brave to offer this. Perhaps… foolishly so."

But even as he said the words, something in his chest twisted. His hand hovered near their cheek, but he hesitated, his fingers trembling. Could he really go through with it?

"Power is all I’ve ever sought," he growled, his voice tight with frustration. "It is all I know. To take it from you would mean victory. And yet…"

His SO gazed up at him, unafraid. "You don’t need to do this. You’ve already won my heart. I'll love you in death as I have in life."

Ganondorf closed his eyes, his fist clenching at his side. "Damn you," he muttered under his breath. "You make me weak."

He took a step back, his body rigid with barely contained emotion. "I could never respect myself if I took the Triforce from you this way." His voice was cold, but there was an edge of sorrow in it.

"You will live," he said, turning away. "I will not take your life for the sake of power. Not anymore."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Thoughts: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is more measured and calculating than his Ocarina of Time counterpart. The offer from his SO would cause him to pause and reflect on what he truly values. He would see their willingness to die for him as a profound expression of loyalty and love, which might sway him to reconsider his ultimate goal.

Scene:

Ganondorf stood before his SO, his golden eyes glowing with an intensity that belied the storm raging within him. "You would die for me? You would offer yourself to me in exchange for the Triforce?"

They nodded, their voice unwavering. "If that’s what you want, then yes. I love you enough to let you have it."

Ganondorf’s gaze darkened, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "You speak of love as though it could replace the power I seek."

They smiled sadly. "It’s not about replacing anything. It’s about giving you a choice. Power or me. And even if you choose power, I will love you Ganondorf. I always will."

He stared at them, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he entertained the idea—claiming the Triforce, reshaping the world to his liking, achieving everything he had ever dreamed of. But then, the thought of their lifeless body crumbled those ambitions.

"I have killed countless people in my quest for power," he murmured, his voice low. "But I cannot kill you."

His SO took a tentative step forward, their hand gently resting on his. "You don’t need the Triforce, Ganondorf. You’re already strong."

Ganondorf’s eyes flickered with emotion, his grip tightening on their hand. "You are a fool," he whispered, though there was no venom in his words. "But you are my fool."

With a resigned sigh, he turned away, his cape billowing behind him. "You will live, and I will find another way."

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Thoughts: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is the most ruthless and war-hungry of them all. His immediate reaction would be to accept the offer, seeing it as the logical conclusion to his search for power. But even he, as pragmatic as he is, would find himself hesitating when faced with the reality of their death. Their loyalty might be the one thing that stays his hand.

Scene:

Ganondorf’s laughter echoed through the chamber, dark and mocking. "You would die for me? You would offer yourself so that I might have the Triforce?"

His SO met his gaze steadily, their voice soft but sure. "If that’s what you want, then yes. I would."

He took a step forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over them. "You do not understand what you offer. Your death would mean my ultimate victory. The Triforce would be mine, and Hyrule would fall."

They didn’t flinch. "I trust you to decide what’s right."

Ganondorf’s laughter died in his throat, his expression twisting with confusion. He had expected resistance, perhaps even fear. But this… this loyalty, this willingness to die for him—it unnerved him.

"I could kill you right now," he growled, his hand reaching for his sword. "And everything I’ve sought would be within my grasp."

"If that would make you happy, I give you my life willingly, my love." they said softly.

He stopped, his hand hovering over his blade. For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Then, with a growl of frustration, he stepped back, turning away from them.

"Your loyalty is infuriating," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. "I will not waste it by killing you."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Thoughts: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, driven mad by Zonai magic and centuries of grief, would initially react with anger. The idea of his SO willingly giving their life for him would feel like a twisted joke, considering all the loss he’s endured. Yet, at the same time, their offer would pierce through his madness, bringing him face to face with the love he thought he had lost.

Scene:

Ganondorf’s eyes blazed with dark energy as he stared at his SO. "You would die for me? After everything?"

They nodded, their voice steady despite his anger. "If it means you can have the Triforce, yes. I’ll give my life for you."

His fists clenched, the power within him surging. "I have lost everything—everyone—and now you would give yourself willingly? Why?"

"Because I love you," they whispered, stepping toward him. "Because I believe in you."

His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind racing. He had sought power for so long, had sacrificed everything for it. But now… the thought of losing them, the one person who had stayed by his side through everything—it felt like a new kind of madness.

"You would die for me," he repeated, his voice softening, almost breaking. "But I cannot lose you too."

With a choked growl, he turned away, his hands trembling. "Damn the Triforce. I will not take it from you."

Demise

Thoughts: Demise, the embodiment of destruction and hatred, would initially be tempted to accept the offer. His SO’s death would grant him ultimate power, the very thing he craves. But something deeper would stir within him—the realization that they were the only being strong enough to stand by him, to challenge him, to understand him.

Scene:

Flames roared around Demise as he towered over his SO, his fiery gaze locked onto them. "You would die for me? You would give your life for the Triforce?"

They nodded, unflinching. "If that’s what you want, yes. I’ll die for you."

Demise’s flames flared hotter, his fists clenching as he considered their words. "Do you have any idea what you’re offering me? I could take it. End you in an instant, and the Triforce would be mine."

"I know," they said softly. "But I love you."

His flames dimmed, confusion flashing in his fiery eyes. "You love me?" he growled. "You would die for me, and expect me to care?"

They stepped forward, the heat of his power almost overwhelming. "Yes. I love you, and I would die for you, Demise."

Demise’s breath caught in his throat, the fire around him flickering uncertainly. For a long moment, he stared at them, the weight of their words sinking in.

With a furious roar, he turned away, his flames dimming to a simmer. "Damn it all. You will not die for me."

His voice was softer now, almost pained. "I will find another way. You will live."

#mallowresponse #legend of zelda #ganondorf #ganon #demise #skyward sword #hyrule warriors #wind waker #tears of the kingdom #ocarina of time #twilight princess #ai use #use of chatgpt

11 notes · View notes

yisony07 · 1 year ago

Text

Amends

Thanks to @greenface94 for the masked pics and @electrodudesmith95, who suggested me the idea. The story, by the way, was partially done with AI

It was a cloudy night in the city, where two figures stood facing each other in the living room of their cozy apartment. They were Daniel and Alex, a cute and hot longtime gay couple. It had started as small derogatory comments, but it escalated and, without realizing it, they were incapable of disagreeing and what was once a harmonious relationship had now turned into a tempestuous argument, filled with tears and shattered emotions.

"It's always the same with you, Alex! How could you do that?" Daniel's voice trembled with anger, his eyes glistening with tears.

Alex, his face etched with tears, responded, "Oh, yeah? You talk as if you were perfect and never done anything wrong, right?!."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their wounded love. The silence stretched between them, each one grappling with their emotions. Tears rolled down their faces, their hearts consumed by anger, their love seemingly on the verge of collapse

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Alex stormed out of the apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He got into his car, tears streaming down his face, and sped away into the night, consumed by anger and hurt.

As Alex drove aimlessly through the rain-soaked streets, his mind was clouded with conflicting thoughts and emotions, his tears refusing to cease. The car felt suffocating, each breath a painful reminder of the fight that had torn them apart. Thoughts regarding his life and his relationship with Daniel, the moments they spent together, how they met until what they were now; Alex wondered what had happened, what destroyed what had started out so beautiful. "Perhaps..." he began to think. "... we should break up" he concluded and his heart sank. In the midst of his despair, a glimmer caught his eye from the passenger seat. It came from a wooden mask.

Curiosity piqued, Alex wiped away his tears and reached out to find a wooden mask nestled among the clutter. Alex didn't know what it was or how it got there. However, his sight landed on its seductive, green hues glow, beckoning him closer, making him forget any pain he felt at that moment. With shaky hands, he picked it up, his tears momentarily forgotten. As soon as his fingers touched the mask's surface, a surge of energy rippled through him, leaving him mesmerized by its enigmatic charm.

Intrigued yet cautious, Alex brought the wooden mask toward his face, almost instinctively drawn to its allure. As he gently placed it upon his head, the world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only the mask and its enchantment.

A surge of energy coursed through Alex, intensifying with each passing second. The once static wooden mask began expanding and contorting itself, effortlessly conforming to the contours of his face. The mask tightened around his face, the wooden tendrils snaking over his skin, and an electric surge coursed through his body. He struggled as his body contorting and writhing as the mask took hold of him.

The process was both terrifying and riveting. Alex could feel the mask's movements like a living entity, tightening and closing around his head. Panic overwhelmed him, and he screamed for help as his body thrashed within the confines of the car. The vehicle swayed violently, as if caught in an otherworldly storm.

While Alex's struggles were fervent, the mask's power was insurmountable. The whirlwind of sensations enveloped him, and to his surprise, his resistance waned. As if surrendering to a force beyond comprehension, he succumbed to the magic pulsating through him. Inside the car, chaos reigned as Alex's body spun like a tornado, the vehicle shaking violently with each twist and turn. The mask seemed to possess a life of its own, infusing him with its maniacal energy.

And then, with a final surge of power, the transformation was complete. Alex's face was now a vibrant shade of green, his features cartoonishly sexified and his body was way buffer than before. He stared at his reflection, awe and desire etched on his features. The lustful gleam in his ruby eyes was matched only by the newfound physical allure that accompanied the mask's embrace. He admired his new appearance, a serious yet mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"It's time to put things in their place!!" he exclaimed. The car magically changed direction. "Daniel, dear, here... I... COME!!" he pressed the pedal and the car sped forward, leaving marks on the pavement.

Daniel was going through the mess, cleaning up the mess. His eyes were red from crying and his breathing was ragged. When he finished cleaning he heard the doorbell ring. A bit of relief and excitement washed over him and he ran to the door, only to open it to find a box under the threshold.

"Who the hell leaves a box at this time?" He asked irritably. He took the box and closed the door. "It's something heavy," he thought and took it to the living room. In that, the box began to vibrate and Daniel, scared and without knowing what it was, left it quickly on the floor.

The box exploded and a greenish whirlwind arose from inside, perplexing Daniel. Little by little the whirlwind slowed until it came to a complete stop, revealing a figure with a green face and glowing red eyes, who was watching Daniel with desire and energy.

"Surprise baby!" the figure yelled, flexing its arms and staring at Daniel with a smile. Daniel, startled by the commotion, turned to face him, his eyes widening at the sight of Alex's transformed appearance.

"Alex? What happened to you?" Daniel stammered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and concern.

Alex, still basking in the mask's power, approached Daniel's with a mischievous grin. He gently ran his green-tinted fingers along Daniel's cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

"Daniel, my love, I may look different, but it's still me," Alex said, his voice husky and filled with desire and excitement. "I've come to show you how much you mean to me, so let's get our fun, shall we?"

Using the mask's cartoonish abilities, masked Alex created an atmosphere charged with sensuality and longing. Soft music played in the background as the apartment transformed into a haven of romance, with flickering candlelight and rose petals scattered across the floor. He took Daniel's hand in his own and led him to a magically conjured bed, adorned with satin sheets and fluffy pillows. Their eyes locked in a passionate gaze, filled with desire and a longing to reconnect. Alex tore apart his own singlet and Daniel's clothes in no time and overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions, they went to the bed and sank into each other's arms, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss and their cocks frotting against each other, hardening and getting bigger, even though the difference were noticeable. The room filled with a warm glow as their bodies intertwined, exploring the depths of their love and desire.

As the night wore on, Daniel and Alex indulged in a dance of passion and intimacy, their bodies moving in sync to a symphony of pleasure. Their love, once on the brink of destruction, was reignited with a fervor that surpassed anything they had ever experienced.

Then, Alex removed the mask, his face and his body returning to their normal state. He looked at Daniel, his eyes brimming with affection, and whispered, "I love you, Daniel. I'm so sorry for everything."

Tears streamed down Daniel's face as he threw himself into Alex's arms, the weight of their argument lifted from their shoulders. In that moment, they knew that their love was stronger than any storm that came their way.

And with those words, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, their hearts forever bound.

#loki mask transformation #he-mask #the mask #the mask transformation #themask #male tf #male transformation #gay transformation #musclegrowth #muscle transformation

80 notes · View notes

stardustloki · 3 months ago

Text

Not without me.

When some visitors show up on Pabu in their shiny space-yacht, Omega isn't expecting it to mark the end of her settled life there.

Unfortunately, they want to take her newest brother, former Jedi Padawan Cal Kestis, on their mission to restore the Jedi Order.

If he has to go, Omega doesn't intend to let him go alone. -

(A continuation of my TBB and Fallen Order Crossover. Context probably not necessary, but if you want you can read the first and second parts.)

Tags: Gen, Omega & Cal Kestis, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Omega's abandonment fears vs Cal's Order 66 trauma: fight!, @summer-of-bad-batch

Read it below the cut or on ao3 here.

Omega pushed open her brother’s door, probably with more force than necessary given how hard it slammed into the wall, but she found she didn’t much care. Ever since Phee’s new 'friends' had shown up in their shiny space-yacht this morning, asking to speak to Cal in private, people had been keeping stuff from her. It was like everyone had decided to treat her like she was ten again, and she’d kriffing had it. So, here she was, in his doorway, going to get answers.

“Are you ever planning on knocking?” Cal asked, the familiar resignation clear in his voice. Well, he wasn’t yelling at her to get out his room at least, so that was promising. He turned to face her, one eyebrow cocked as he dropped the shirt he’d been shoving into his backpack in order to fold his arms.

Wait… why were all his clothes dumped on his bed? Omega felt something in her chest turn to ice as she ignored his question. “You’re going with them, aren’t you?”

Cal sighed, wiping a hand across his face as she gritted her teeth and fixed him with her strongest glare. Anger, it was definitely anger she was feeling, not terror, not the ground suddenly disappearing out from under her feet.

“Yes,” he said, and maybe she would care more about how conflicted he looked if she felt like she remembered how to breathe.

"When were you planning on telling me this? When you were already in hyperspace?" Incredulous fury was bubbling up inside of her, but why try to calm it when he had clearly almost finished packing and hadn't even bothered to tell her first. He was just gonna leave them, without even discussing it.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you," Cal replied, grimacing. "And I wouldn't have just gone into space without telling you first. But yeah... I am going with them.”

“Why!?”

He dropped down onto the bed, sitting atop his strewn clothes, and grimaced. “Cere and Greez are looking to rebuild the Jedi Order, and they need me to help. They won’t be able to succeed without my powers.”

Omega almost gaped at him. He barely knew these people, how could he know if they could be trusted? And he was planning on leaving their family to go on a suicide mission? “But you were a padawan. Surely they could get someone better, a proper Jedi, they don’t need to use you!”

Cal’s expression darkened, his jaw setting. “Yes, because there are so many Jedi Masters left to choose from now. You can barely move for them. As soon as you turn up on a new planet, there are five there to greet you personally. Have you forgotten the Empire slaughtered my people?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she snapped, suddenly wanting to burst into tears. She folded her arms.

“Whatever,” Cal said, turning to shove more of his clothes into his backpack.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

He was silent for a moment as he continued packing his bag, still not looking at her. Finally, he spoke. “I have to do this Omega. The Jedi were my family. Everything I knew, everything I cared about was destroyed. If there’s any chance of getting it back, I have to take it.”

“But,” Omega said, feeling everything falling apart around her, feeling like she was eleven, standing in front on Echo on Coruscant again, as he told her he was leaving the Batch to go help other Clones instead, “we’re your family too.”

Cal stilled. “I know. And you guys have been… you guys have been the best. But I can’t sit here, relaxing on the beach, pretending like I don’t know what the Empire did to my people. I can’t stay here knowing there might be a way for us to live on.”

“Okay,” Omega said quietly, anger draining out of her as resignation swept in. “Okay.”

She slumped down on the bed beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. Thankfully, this wasn’t going to be the last time this happened, not if she had anything to do about it.

When he let her go she twisted to face him, her voice filled with new purpose. “If you’re going, I’m coming with you. You need back-up and the others are retired. Plus, Pabu’s getting kinda boring anyway, I sort of miss people shooting at me. ”

“No,” Cal said, voice flat. “The others would kill me.”

“Excuse me, we both know I am more than capable of defending myself. I can handle whatever situations you guys get yourselves into. Wherever you go swinging your lightsaber into, I’m gonna be there to get you out.” And I’m probably gonna be right beside you shooting stormtroopers, she added internally, but best not to bring that part up first.

“Omega, you’re fifteen.”

If she could have rolled her eyes any further they would have been in the back of her head. She huffed. There were many good things about Pabu, and a few things that kinda sucked, but the worst, the absolute worst, was that somehow the adults had convinced Hunter and the others that anyone under the age of eighteen was incredibly fragile, and should be kept overly protected and never allowed to do anything adventurous or interesting ever. **

Her clone-brothers also completely ignored her when she pointed out that there was one rule for her, another rule for them, because technically, if you didn’t count their triple-enhanced ageing, they were all ‘minors’, Cal was the only one of them who was actually eighteen. What's more, when she tried to tell other people that her ‘older brothers’, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair, were actually younger than her no one ever listened.

It was infuriating.

“I was getting shot at and scamming Imps out of credits when I was twelve, how is this any different?”

“Hmm, good luck arguing that,” Cal said, completely nonplussed, adding another pair of socks to his bag.

“I’m gonna argue it over the comms when I’m already on the ship,” Omega replied, shrugging, as she leapt up off the bed. “When are you leaving?”

Cal sighed. “In twenty minutes - Greez admitted he doesn’t want to stay anywhere too long because he thinks the Haxion Brood might be on his tail for gambling debts, and he wants to be gone before they arrive.”

This latter part almost gave Omega pause, but then she figured that if a load of bounty hunters did descend on Pabu, despite the fact they claimed they were retired now, her brothers would be more than capable of dealing with them. Also, it was probably just another reason why she should come along, she reckoned that if they did run into any of the Brood, she and Cal would probably be able to win back the money the guy owed and then some.

Twenty minutes. Okay. There wasn’t really much time to think this through.

“Well,” she said. “I’m gonna throw some stuff in a bag then say bye to Lyana. Tell the others I’m crying in my-” hmmm, no, that kinda made her sound too pathetic- “that I hate you, I've stormed off and I’ve taken one of the boats out. See you on the ship!”

And with that, she raced out of the room.

It would be good to see the galaxy again.

** Footnote: despite Omega’s opinions here, we all know the guys still have no concept of ‘dangerous situations you probably shouldn’t put a child in’ and she gets to do all kinds of fun stuff. They’ve just wised up a little bit since putting her in situations she gets shot at in, and, at 15, Omega finds their increased responsibility stifling.

I hope you guys enjoyed!

Honestly, it’s up to you whether you think teenage-Omega actually manages to go off with the crew of the Mantis!

Omega: how dare you leave without telling me >:( Also Omega: okay, so if Cal's gonna be in danger guess I gotta leave without telling anyone :)))

#tbb #tbb omega #cal kestis #summerofbadbatch2024 #Alt. Prompt: “You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen.”#Alt. Prompt: “Get out of my room!”#Alt. Prompt: “Just when were you planning on telling us that?”

6 notes · View notes

abromelon34105 · 6 months ago

Text

Here’s a snippet from Chapter 2 of For The Tainted Human!!

“Now where’s the president?” Jun’ichirō asks as he lowers his hand from his face. He really is doing his part well - he looks conflicted and angry to a T. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he has his ability activated. It’s so out of character for him, I almost think he is an actual mad bomber. The weird silence that fell over the office is broken when he yells “BRING ME THE PRESIDENT!” He grabs Naomi and lifts her up from the back of her shirt. “If you don’t, I’ll blow everyone in this place to kingdom come!” He drops Naomi onto the ground, a little harsher than normal and I start talking to Kunikida, keeping my voice low. “Sounds like he’s got a personal grudge. That’s mighty inconvenient.”

“Agreed,” Kunikida said in the same quiet voice. Atsushi is sitting between the two of us, watching the scene with Jun’ichirō with fearful eyes. “Why’d you bring me here again?” he asks quietly, his voice a little shaky.

Kunikida continues as if he hadn’t heard the boy. “Based on what he’s saying, the bomber seems furious at the agency.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I can help you. May I go now?”

I start talking, speaking to Atsushi without addressing his question. “Because of the work we do, we attract a lot of unwanted attention.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

I nod at the bomb sitting beside Jun’ichirō on the desk. “That is a military grade high level explosive. If the bomber acts on his threat and detonates it, it’ll kill us and destroy the whole floor.”

“Oh, no…”

“But if we can find something to cover the bomb, we may be able to reduce the force of the blast. But given the circumstances…since he took her hostage, he’s not only mad, he’s insane.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Naomi. She’s a part-time office assistant here.”

“She’s not even an agent?!” Atsushi keeps his voice down as he stares at me for a moment before turning back to stare at Naomi through the plants. “She’s just an innocent victim in this terrible mess.”

“So what do we do?” Kunikida asks me behind Atsushi. I slide a little closer to him so I can answer. “He wants to see the president, right? Why not just bring him here?”

“Are you insane?” Kunikida asks, and I can tell it’s taking a lot for him to stay quiet. He really is a great actor, despite how rigid he seems. I know I’m just as good, if not better. These kind of missions were my bread and butter. I shake my head quickly to dispel the memories. It’s not good if I get lost down memory lane right now. “He’ll try to kill the president! We can’t let the boss walk into a bad situation like this!” Kunikida sits back and adjusts his glasses, lowering his voice again. “Plus he’s off on a business trip.” We both know he’s not, he’s sitting in his office, watching the cameras to see how Atsushi does. This is one of the few tests that has taken place inside the agency, which probably makes it far easier for him to see what’s going on.

“Oh, right. I forgot about that,” I say with a short eye roll. “It seems there’s only one option…” I meet Kunikida’s eyes and he gives me a short nod as we both hold up a hand. Atsushi watches us, expectantly, and I can tell he thinks we’re gonna use our abilities.

Instead we throw out three games of rock-paper-scissors. We tie the first two, and Kunikida loses the third, as was originally planned. I laugh quietly as he makes a small show of getting mad at me, and I can see Atsushi staring at us, his face completely blank. He really has no idea what to make of us.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs kunikida #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs chuuya #fanfic #au #armed detective agency

8 notes · View notes

marcusrobertobaq · 8 months ago

Note

List your Gavin headcanons, I am now curious

I suck at headcanons but these are the cop headcanons I was talking about:

Gavin joined the force around 10yrs before when we meet him in the game

Back in patrol he used to be rough with suspects even if he knew they were innocent, y'know the ego, never admitting he's wrong and shit. The use of force is a bit over the limit too, throwing people on the ground when ain't that necessary, pinning on the wall, car hood and shit. Your average police brutality metaphor.

Always an escalating prick: if he can make the environment kinda tense he will, with authoritative and sometimes sarcastic tones. He also tends to joke about the suspect behind 'em back, calling 'em idiot and shit like this.

On scene he used to make questionable jokes with his pals (that were like him) when with a suspect detained or arrested especially if related to DUI.

His superior on Patrol Unit used to be "corrupt" too so he was always kinda backed up cuz although he was an asshole he got things done and u know what cops think about some types of suspect, especially the hostile ones

If he can go for his gun he gonna go for his gun and gonna point it in your face.

Although Gavin could be considered a corrupt cop for having power trips dude knows the laws, the thing is he does what he thinks that needed to be done to make the wheels turn. I'd say he got his own laws.

When going to clubs or bars things almost always ended up in conflicts or fighting and i'd say even if he took a beat mf gave it back doesn't matter if the mf is a 2m bodybuilder. Ofc mf drop the "cop card" to put people in 'em place. This habit continues to this day

For some reason I believe Reed been a detective for at least 4 years when we meet him. He thought about trying SWAT before or even K9 (mf love dogs, hunter dogs) but found himself in financial related crimes division, later in major crimes like homicide. He liked the detective even tho was a hell of work and u couldn't have peace. But it's a popular area to try building a career.

Dude's kinda interested in firearms.

He's still got the habit of joking even on the most gruesome crime scenes. It's like things don't impact him that much to the point if he discovered something he didn't like about the victim he would joke about 'em death

He got a damn of a dirty mouth esp when not inside the station and he can be disrespectful in some moments

He's known ass Det. Asshole in his division. Dude's always sarcastic and arrogant, and wanting mfs to laugh or agree with him. Some actually pretend being in the circle but still think dude's an asshole and invasive sometimes, especially the women.

He'll often make homophobic and transphobic jokes especially if he wanna piss someone off - mostly about men, if fruity or too feminine or trans women that looks "kinda masculine". Nothing personal, tho.

If the person is fucking an android or is an android "lover" he'll also shit on this, usually saying things like "you can't fuck a real person so you need a piece of plastic as replacement". It's basically like asking for him to look down on mfs. He also bully his co-workers about it, especially if the coworker dislike androids too. It's like an offense.

He got very peculiar opinions on Tracis, especially the fem ones. By peculiar I mean quite negative and I got the impression he would do some bad things to 'em. I'm talking about destroying 'em, ofc.

He also ain't got respect for "the bitches" - u just gotta look and/or act like one, btw. Well... He'll joke about it and be quite disrespectful. Men can be bitches too, according to him. "Pussies".

On the contrary of what most of the fandom think doesn't matter if he kinda see an android like an individual he'll still see 'em as inferior beings that should kneel to him and kiss his feet and he'll carry this mentality for a good time. The rebellion actually makes him "hate" android more cuz now androids are giving "orders" and making demands.

He sometimes bully the android cops too. He just likes making fun of 'em, bumping into 'em on purpose sometimes even making 'em fall to the ground and saying "oops! Sorry" in sarcastic tone. Ofc when things are more empty at the station and nobody gonna complain about it

He'll be an ass about androids while they're passive, and he expects 'em to always bow down in the end. Even if the android did something absurd he gonna joke about it or force 'em to bow. The moment the android becomes visibly unstable dude gonna shit on his pants and gonna order somebody to deal with the shit - which was the case in The Interrogation with Ortiz's android. But I assume most human characters are like this as they're not used to unstable androids or see 'em as just defective machines comparable to your printer going wild in the office

He like telling stories about his cases and experiences to anyone next to him in the moment. Even if it's some fucked up shit mf is always with his sense of humor on point.

This fucked up and sarcastic sense of humor happen to be one of his manipulation methods in interrogations, where he constructs a bridge with the criminal so they feel like in a friendly chit-chat and confess. But his favorite method is roughing up suspects, if he can get physical, punch mfs he will so if mfs don't tell him what he want he kinda doesn't mind that much, if u know what i mean.

Bro is aiming for supervisor ranks for the name but he actually sucks in being in a team. Dude always wanna order everybody and do everything himself, not obeying orders that goes against what he think is right. He hates some people are in the way of him achieving it.

If the "lead" detective on scene he doesn't wanna anyone fucking around, even if the person is a witness. He tends to escalate things or even get the witness "roughly" detained if they piss him off.

Some co-workers try avoiding him, fear him but some are just assholes like him. Not the majority, tho. Sometimes mf can be an asshole but dislikes Reed

Although he's a complicated person he has been more cautious in not having his shit being discovered by superiors not cuz he think it's wrong but cuz he doesn't wanna mfs screaming in his ear and fucking with his stairway to success. Shit going public also wouldn't be a good deal.

Bro just wanna get the job done to add to his list of accomplishments, to show how although he got an asshole reputation mfs can't say he's a bad detective. And it's even the reason some superiors are actually cool in pretending they didn't see shit - we're dealing with criminals, after all. They're less than animals.

He knows Hank covers criminals and it makes him pissed how Jeffrey backs him up just cuz he's his friend, not cuz Hank is doing a good work. It's all about the old times. Gavin looks down on the type of criminals Hank cover, even tho he kinda pits 'em. But there's one reason: androids. As I said before Gavin jokes about mfs addicted to drugs, he looks down on 'em most of the time - alcohol and red ice being the common ones. Control the shit, don't let it control ya is the deal.

Some mfs already tried bribery with Gavin cuz they were "relevant" or something so minuscule there's was "but why?" in the air but mf throw it back at 'em and kinda laughs. If he gotta investigate what end up to be a fellow police officer he'll do it and be pleasured in fucking mf's life, unless mf is really friends with him. The issue is when some commands come from above him, it's another reason he's aiming for higher ranks. He doesn't care if he would act kinda corrupt as long as he gets what he wants done.

He knows about the overall police reputation and how he can be seen as one of the rotten apples and i don't think he cares about cleaning the org's name, just about getting his work done.

During the "Android Crime Unit" episode he was the only one that thought this whole thing was sus af. But it was out of his hands, had superiors involved on this so he just let it go even if he hated it. Although he can be impulsive he got good eyes and ears to detect fuckery going on.

He ain't a fan of CyberLife at all not only cuz of android but cuz he dislike megacorporations like this who got 'em hands on everybody like this, replacing everybody like they're nothing. If he got the opportunity of shitting on 'em he will. Being replaced by one of 'em shitty products is a damn offense, almost a threat.

He dislikes the gov but when the deviant crisis happens his opinion on androids doesn't change. He actually wants 'em to be set on fire, gunned down, destroyed, even if it means it's helping CyberLife. He's there to serve his city, after all. LE gotta show who's the boss in this mf. Curiously this a sentiment most of cops share even after a successful revolution.

He got this "badass motherfucker alive" sentiment. Back when he was in uniform he used to take pictures of him with hand on holster or gun in hands, "like a boss" poses and shit. Y'know, those cops who like some aviator glasses and badge always on sight. It still kinda a thing now with plain clothes. He just thinks he's the best mf ever esp at work - always trynna prove being superior

There's a very good way of shutting him up, tho: letting him talking to the walls or being too polite in counter-argumenting him at work. He'll get angry fr. He doesn't like when mfs think they're better than him or more "successful" than him at his job.

In the end he's just a high-nose bastard. Everybody facepalms and sigh deeply when they know Det. Reed is in the area.

Some stuff may contradict another but I guess I really don't give a fuck now? I'll have a proper list with a proper english in my docs some day, maybe February 31st.

#dbh #detroit become human #gavin reed #dbh my ideas

9 notes · View notes

pricescigar · 1 year ago

Text

A Dragons fury

Summary: When John Price, King of the Hybrid Dragon's rages an invasion on King Dietrich's kingdom. He also finds a treasure worthy of his heart, Elvira.

Admin note: Hi it's me Brooke! I do hope you enjoy this mini series of Dragon!Price, I don't know how many parts it'll be, I'll see how we go.

John Price X Elvira Wolff

Dragons or better known as Hybrid-Dragons ruled the mountains across the many regions of the world, though they may have their own problems the only thing that always brought them together was the conflict between the many humans. One in particular was King Dietrich, a mean, cold, heartless and ruthless ruler that ruled his Kingdom. Many hated him, but many did not have the courage to step up to him, or even cause a revolt. They were that scared of him, even his own daughter … Was scared of him.

Elvira... Her life was confined in the familiar stone walls of the Wolff Castle, it was a rare sight whenever the Kingdom would have a chance to see their beloved Princess. Upon special occasions was the only time they'd see her face, any other time she was back inside the Castle. Sometimes you'd see her at the highest tower of the Castle, staring out of the window occasionally. Watching as the day goes by, before her duties would call for her once more.

The Princess and rightful heir to the throne. Elvira Wolff, a bright, young and intelligent Princess, still yet to find a rightful husband to continue the Wolff bloodline. Being trapped in the Castle all day, everyday has it's downsides. Yet reading, being tutored to be s good Queen and mother was the only thing that kept her occupied.

The war between humans and the hybrid Dragons was at an all time high this month, Dietrich wasn't backing down this time. King Dietrich & King Price had been at each other's throats for decades now. The recent attack Dietrich did on the Dragons was a fatal blow, leaving almost all of them dead, starving, injured. And now… King John Price craved revenge.

The early hours of the morning were met with the grand bell ringing, a sign of invasion, the guards went to their posts and positions as the inament of threat and danger was approaching. A large group of Dragons could be seen flying towards the village, and the Castle itself. Elvira woke up to screams of terror, some blood curdling some out of fear.

Elvira got out of her bed quickly, only wearing her night down and went over to the door of her bedroom. And as always it was locked, thanks to her lovely father… No matter how many times Elvira knocked on the door loudly, calling out for help no one seemed to be answering her…

"Please…! Please! Someone help me!" Elvira yelled out in fear, the Castle shook as rubble and stones were destroyed. The weak parts of the Castle that contain wood, began to burst in flames.

John Price, the King of the Hybrid Dragons led his men and strongest women into Battle. The kingdom burst into flames as they caused destruction, Price searched all around for King Deitrich yet couldn't find him. Yet a distinct voice made him stop in his tracks, someone calling for help? He could hear a female voice.

"Please…! Please! Someone help me!"

Price began to follow where he heard the voice, it got louder each time. He quickly went up the tower, and that's where he heard the voice… Part of the Castle was almost up in flames at that point.

"Move away from the door!" Price yelled to whoever was on the other side of the door. "I'm going to kick it down!"

Elvira began to cough as the smoke and flames became visible. She heard the voice beckoning her to back away from the wooden door.

"O-Okay!" She called out staying at the corner of her room, as she covered her mouth to not inhale the smoke. Then hearing the loud thud of him kicking the door down. With such blunt force the wooden door got kicked down easily, she looked away before her eyes laid on Price.

Price stood there as he stared at Elvira with silted yellow golden eyes. He was tall, muscular, green scales all over his arm and legs. He had large green wings which enclosed when he saw her. Sharp facial features, messy brown hair, a chiselled beard and horns over his head and a large tail. His hands and legs revealed sharp nails, long enough to cut anyone. He saw how scared she was, and a small idea came to mind…

"Hm a Princess… You're mine now." He mumbled to himself, he huffed, smoke coming out of his nostrils. Before she could even react Price quickly ran towards her, grabbing her firmly and lifting her up into his arms and he used his wings to cover her body and jumped out of the window.

Elvira stood there in fear as the man who broke down the door was no other than a Hybrid dragon, she stared at him for a moment before watching him run towards her. She yelped in fear when he grabbed hold of her, her instincts made her hold onto him as he jumped out of the window.

Price's wings spread out as he landed down perfectly on the ground, by that time most of the Royal guards were dead. Their bodies laid on the floor. Some were burst to ashes, some had claw marks. It was an awful sight to see, it almost made Elvira nauseous to the core.

Elvira looked around at all of the destruction that was caused, as she looked up at Price who was still holding her, her face almost scrunched up in anger.

"Put me down! Put me down now!" Elvira ordered him as she fidgeted in his arms, hearing her pleas only made him chuckle and hold onto her body tighter than before.

"Now… Why would I do that Princess? I saw the treasure and I took it, which is you, love." Price snarled looking down at her. "Where's that lovely father of yours?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"I… I don't know…" Elvira replied to him feeling helpless in the Dragon's arms, knowing she couldn't do much in this situation.

"I found him!" Gaz shouted as he threw Dietrich on the ground, he was all battered, beaten up clearly he had lost the battle.

"Well, well… Who has the short end of the stick now, Dietrich?" Price grinned staring down at him, his sharp teeth visible.

"I admit my defeat, John…" Dietrich mumbled looking up at Price, he saw he had his daughter. "Do what you will with my daughter, I don't care what you do." He spoke coldly.

"Vater…" Elvira spoke in disbelief as she heard those words escape from his mouth not knowing how to react to what he said.

"Kill him, we'll take the princess with us." Price spoke coldly, turning away still holding the damsel in distress in his arms, he walked with her as Ghost grabbed Dietrich's head and snapped it with ease.

"You can't do this…" Elvira mumbled feeling all of her emotions hit her at once, she felt tears forming in her eyes. "Please let me go, that's all I ask of you…"

"I can do whatever I want, and I will." Price huffed. "It's best if you don't look down." He then flew up into the air suddenly, Ghost, Gaz and Soap quickly followed behind as did all the other Dragons.

Elvira hid her face in his scaly chest as he flew up in the air, the cold air hitting her full force. The group of Dragons quickly fled from the scene together, they flew together in a large formation.

By the time they got to the large fortress that was built within the mountains it was midmorning. Price landed down at the balcony of the fortress, which indicated it led into his den. Price's yellow eyes watched his other men and women go through the main entrance to go and rest. They fought well today, a glorious victory.

And so he opened the doors of his den heading inside, and closing them behind him. The room was quite large, the room was dimly lit, a large bed to sleep on too. There wasn't much in there as being a Dragon he didn't need much. He placed Elvira on his bed, observing her.

Elvira backed away slightly, her back against the cold wall as Price had placed her down. She finally took a moment to catch her breath. To try and at least process what had happened to her… Why her?

"I'm sorry." Price finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "Your father had it coming, and seeing you locked up in that tower. I can only make my assumptions." He lastly said.

"I...I had no involvement in this!" Elvira pleaded. "I tried to stop him, believe me I did but he told me to not get involved as it was ideas above my station…" She explained.

"Mhm. I understand that." Price mumbled climbing in the bed too, putting his hands either slide of her head staring at her.

"Regardless of that, I've found my treasure… And that's you." He said, there was a gleam of passion and lust in his eyes.

"You'll be a wonderful mate." He lastly said.

Elvira became flustered seeing how close he was to her, looking away from him. Hearing the word 'mate.' Escape his lips, she looked back at Price shocked. "I will not be your mate." She stared at him.

Price chuckled at how pent up and angry she was getting. "My, my… I think I made a good choice…" He brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear. Admiring at how pretty she was. He then brought her in his arms, laying down on the bed with her trapped in his embrace.

"I need a rest…" He mumbled.

"Hey-" Elvira protested as she was stuck in his arms, the more she fidgeted the tighter he held her. His tail wrapped around her legs, so she wouldn't move so much.

"Rest. Stay calm… My lovely Princess." Price mumbled tiredly, his eyes finally closing. His breathing soon became calm. One of his hands then wrapped around her back, the other wrapped around her waist.

Elvira felt the heat of his body temperature becoming warm, one of his wings distinctively covered part of her body, shielding and protecting her. She knew she couldn't escape, nor fight the dragon either… Gradually she soon fell asleep too.

#cod #call of duty #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #captain price #john price #cod oc #cod fanfic #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #johnvira

17 notes · View notes

sethshead · 1 month ago

Text

To judge him by his own terms, 7 October was a colossal and humiliating failure. After killing some Israeli soldiers and committing atrocities against Israeli civilians, Hamas were ultimately repelled by the IDF. Hezbollah did not invade northern Israel. Jordan, Egypt, and Turkey did not join the crusade. Instead, Hamas’s fighters were routed, and the Israeli military invaded Gaza and comprehensively dismantled Hamas, killing entire echelons of the terrorist group’s commanders and leaders.

[…]

Sinwar really didn’t give a damn about the impact on Gazan civilians that the war he was planning might have. The world left Hamas in charge of Gaza, but this was not a government that tried to make life better for Gazan civilians. For Israelis, rushing to an air raid shelter to avoid incoming rockets fired indiscriminately at the country by Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad has become a common feature of wartime life. But for Palestinians in Gaza, there are no such air raid shelters, in spite of the fact that Hamas has built hundreds of miles of tunnels underneath the Strip. At the outset of the war, Hamas Political Bureau Chief Moussa Abu Marzook was asked whether ordinary Gazans would be able to shelter in those tunnels. His response was telling: the “tunnels,” he explained, “are meant to protect [Hamas] from the airplanes. We are fighting from inside the tunnels.” In his view, he explained, it is not Hamas’s responsibility, but the responsibility of the UN to protect Gaza’s civilians.

[…]

Sinwar should be remembered above all as a failure who gambled everything on an anti-Jewish crusade to ethnically cleanse Israel and create an Islamic theocracy from the river to the sea, subjugating everyone who stood in his way—whether Jewish, Muslim, Christian, or unbeliever. Gaza—situated at the crossroads of Europe, Africa, and Asia—should be a glimmering oasis of prosperity and economic development. Sinwar’s jihadist crusade, his fetish for Jewish—and Palestinian—blood, turned Gaza into dust and rubble.

[…]

But we also have to recognise that Israel is not going to be dislodged by force, as Sinwar dreamed. The Jewish roots in the land are deeper than most people even begin to understand. The fact that they re-established a Jewish state in 1948 almost two millennia after Judea was conquered by Rome should be proof enough of this. Israel’s repeated victories against Arab armies that wished to erase the country from the map—armies that were defeated in 1948, 1967, 1973, and again now under Hamas—simply underlines this fact. The Israelis will do everything they can to retain their sovereignty. It’s a non-negotiable for them. They don’t want to live as dhimmis under Islamic domination—just as Palestinians have a right to be free and sovereign, so do they.

Yahya Sinwar must be the last Palestinian leader who defines being Palestinian in terms of total rejection of Israel. Let’s be realistic. Neither Palestinians nor Israelis are going anywhere. Neither of us are colonisers; we are both indigenous and native to the land, a land with a long history of being conquered and reconquered again and again. Indoctrinating children into believing that Israel can simply be destroyed by jihad is not the path forward. It is the road to hell. It is the road to a destroyed land and to a miserable existence in tents.

[…]

Palestinian life doesn’t have to involve misery, sacrifice, death, and destruction. After all, the European nations fought each other for centuries in religious conflicts over land and empire. But since World War II, they have chosen to move in a different direction—towards peace, coexistence, and mutual co-operation. That framework has lasted over 80 years now, and these have been the most prosperous years of Europe’s history. This could happen in the Middle East, too. This is not some wild fever dream: we, too can embrace modernity and enlightenment values—history teaches us that former enemies can be reconciled. We too can achieve this vision of peace and prosperity—if we have the courage and steadfastness to reach out and grasp it.

Yahya Sinwar has done nothing to resist Israel; if anything, he invited Israel back into Gaza. He set back the cause of Palestinian statehood. He ensured that death and destruction would be Gaza’s lot, and that the world would be too distracted by the war he started to even notice increased Israeli abuses and land grabs in the West Bank. Yahya Sinwar failed the Palestinian people. He failed at everything but one: killing Jews. For the international left, that appears to be enough to celebrate the man and legacy.

Palestinians have won court cases against Israel in Israel. Why are the lawyers not international heroes on a par with a Thurgood Marshall? Those lawyers didn’t kill Jews. Palestinians have wealthy businessmen who have overcome PA corruption and Israeli spite to construct new, modern Palestinian cities. How are they not international heroes? They used the bricks to build, not destroy. Building things doesn’t kill Jews unless you’re tearing up your own irrigation pipes to build a rocket arsenal to - you guessed it - kill Jews.

The international community has assigned Palestinians the sole role of carrying on humanity’s favorite pastime: killing Jews. Not building up Palestine or improving the lives of Palestinians; just killing Jews. And for the longest time, Palestinians, at least their leaders, obliged. Rather than accept partition, they rejected any Jewish autonomy in Eretz Yisrael. Instead of campaigning from 1948-1967 that the West Bank and Gaza be made independent from Jordan and Egypt, respectively, the PLO ceded in 1964 the West Bank to Jordan in return for Jordanian promises to assist in the conquest of Israel itself. After 1967 there was terrorism from Jordan, then terrorism from Lebanon, and then a First Intifada in which more Palestinians were killed by fellow Palestinians than by Israelis.

Then came Oslo and the bus bombings, condoned by Yasser Arafat, that temporarily derailed the peace process when Netanyahu became Prime Minister the first time. Then in response to Camp David there was the Second Intifada. In response to the Israeli withdrawal from Gaza, Hamas was elected to form a government, and then took over Gaza when the Palestinian Authority demanded it give up its private militia.

When brave Palestinian leaders like Salam Fayyad talked about development and building - of infrastructure and institutions - to make Palestinian sovereignty an undeniable fact on the ground, they were stymied by a political establishment that would not look inward, lest it be held accountable for the patronage and factional fiefdoms that made Ramallah sclerotic and dysfunctional. Every opportunity to uplift the Palestinian people with prosperity, dignity, and freedom was missed, because the mission had not changed since 1947: so long as the Jews have a home, Palestinian liberation was unfulfilled. Even in the Palestinian narrative, it was Jews who were centered, not Palestinians, who became objects, passive cyphers without agency or responsibility.

With the death of Sinwar and the discrediting of Hamas in Gaza (if not in the West), Palestinians may finally have their opportunity to focus on building a land, a country for themselves. This will, of course, require Israel to stand back and let them do so, which under Netanyahu is in no way guaranteed. Between his settler allies and need to keep Palestinians weak and divided, there is every likelihood that Netanyahu sabotages any opening for peace this war will bring. After a Hamas defeat, administration and security in Gaza must be provided by anyone but Israel. A continued Israel presence will just invite blowback and inspire new resistance groups. That is after all, how Hizb’allah originated. A long-term Israeli occupation or, got forbid, new Israeli settlements in Gaza, will keep the Palestinian narrative about Israel, rather than letting it shift to Palestinian self-reliance.

Of course, that’s exactly what Netanyahu and all river-to-sea Zionists fear most: Palestinians focused on their own independence and autonomy where they live, not obsessed with keys to homes in Israel and far-off fantasies of irredentist conquest of what is someone else’s home. A self-focused Palestine would be strong, would have effective ways to resist occupation and creeping annexation. It would have full support of the entire international community and that of many Israeli Jews, as well. That would be a force that could not be overcome by Israeli hawks, no matter how hard they try.

But such a Palestine must be nurtured by those who truly care for Palestinians and their welfare. People, institutions, and states that want to see Palestinians as a people defined by something other than a conflict with Israel and the Jews, by something other than indignant rejectionism. In the coming years we will see if such a Palestine, no longer under the sway of a Haniyeh or Sinwar or Abbas or Khamenei, can rise from the ashes of war and failure. For that to happen, we’ll have to see if the international community is willing to release Palestinians from their assigned role killing Jews, and allow them to turn instead to live for themselves.

2 notes · View notes

who-dat-homeless · 1 year ago

Text

Thoughts on a coffee theory

Okay let’s get it out of the way -- it’s not a “debunking theory” post. I do believe that coffee theory based, it got a lot of arguments and evidence, and at the very end its interesting and entertaining.

Yet still I don’t like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1. It’s just destroying any conflict

Aziraphale and Crowley at the end of the season got a very interesting conflict of ideologies. They both don’t like heaven/hell, they both understand that it’s a very toxic “organizations” that hurt people in the same manner the only difference is in the wrapping. They both want to live on earth amongst humans, they want their little lives left alone to do their little human things, sleep, going out, listen to Shostakovich. Yet they can’t be left alone as long as heaven and hell exists and they both know it.

BUT.

They have different solution to this problem. Aziraphale truly believes he can change the system on the inside, that just one angel with good intentions can change everything. Crowley truly believes that he can always run away, pretend he didn’t see big scary monster so it wont touch him.

And I’d say they both wrong. As one single person could never change non material force of “system”, this person can’t just pretend that everything is fine. They’ll be haunted, they’ll be lonely, never finding a place to stay, afraid of intimacy as any other moment can make them run again.

And how interesting( and good from a writing point) it would be to look for them both to realize they’re wrong and go looking for the third secret thing that finally can put their fears at ease?

And if Aziraphale is just “hypnotized” then it’s all for nothing, Crowley just needs to walk to him, take him by the hand and un-hypnotize him. Idk how about you but for me is a tad bit boring. You can put this plot in one 45 minutes and be done. But ideological differences... Yeah baby, give me some heart wrecking fighting of their sole beings.

2. Juicy religious trauma gone

Religious imagery and religious traumas are gorgeous on their own. Are you fearful of the higher power? Or are you feeling less lonely knowing that there’s someone who’ll always be by your side? Do you like to know that you’re life goes according to plan? Do you feel satisfaction from knowing that your moral codex is “holy”? (insert any themes about cults and systems in here)

It’s so nice to see explorations of these themes in media. AND NOW IMAGING EXPLORING THEM ON THE EXAMPLE OF THE ANGELES THEMSELVES - BEINGS WHO ARE _THE RELIGION_ WHO CAN’T JUST GO AWAY FROM IT, WHO CAN’T JUST BE A NORMAL “PEOPLE” WITH THEIR LIVES WITHOUT IT And again. If it’s just the coffee -- one session of un-hypnotizing and everything is resolved on it’s own.

3. It’s striping away impact of characters decisions

If its not even a character’s decision - why care? Again, un-hypnotize him and everything is good again, I’m more than sure that if Aziraphale is really drugged Crowley would not hold any grudge and welcome him back as easy as it possibly can. If it inevitably leads to no conflict at all, no arcs, no realizations, no growth, why would I care?

4. LET AZIRAPHALE BE BASTARD

LET HIM BE SHITHEAD, LET HIM BE EVIL, LET HIM BEEEE FOCKEN BITCHHHHHHH

We have soooo many kind moments with Crowley and so little of Aziraphale being absolutely the worst. I can only remember him wanting to kill a kid, but let’s be honest, in that particular situation it was more morally grey.

They supposed to be neither, human like, making mistakes, fixing them. But with the coffee theory it’s almost like “Aziraphale did nothing wrong! Ever! In his life!” Nah, let him be a lil bit messy, it would bring a fine flavor to this whole mess of situationship

And I saw someone made a point that “Oh Aziraphale WOULD NEVER tell Crowley that he’s the bad guy!!!!”

Yeah but there’s exists thins little thing, y’know, called “EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION”. Aziraphale have being abused by heaven and sadly he took over some of this behavior. For me in this moment he tries to shame Crowley AS HE KNOWS HE LOVES HIM. he wants Crowley to defend himself to say that _he_ is not the bad guy, so Aziraphale can further more prove that Crowley has to come to heaven with him, he want’s him to feel guilty for the feeling Aziraphale has, SO CROWLEY WOULD STAY WITH HIM, SO CROWLEY WOULD BACK OFF AND TRY TO GO BACK TO WHERE THEY WERE AND AZIRAPHALE WOULD NEVER EVER HAS TO CONFRONT THOSE FEELINGS AGAIN.

“Nothing lasts forever” HE DOSEN’T CARE (he does but not in the context of this analysis) ABOUT HIS SHOP HE JUST WANTS TO BE WITH CROWLEY AND HE THREATENS HIM. He says him in the face “We can end at any moment. I can end US at any moment. And you can’t do anything about it” He bluffs and so he shoots himself in the leg

HE LOVES CROWLEY BUT BECAUSE HE STILL IS IN THE POSSESION OF HEAVEN THE ONLY LOVE HE KNOWS IS THREAT AND VIOLENCE

And he even did this kind of the manipulating before!!In the first episode when he tells Crowley that he can leave if won’t going to help him. And he even admits that he said it because he wanted Crowley to help him. So the thing at the ending of the 6th episode is in character!!

And again. Coffee theory would strip this all away. All of this juicy internal/external conflict. Aziraphale is once again just a damsel in distress waiting for her prince to save her. IN CONCLUSION

I like coffee theory as a bandage to my broken heart. I like it as an idea that would hold my broken spirit after the mess I’ve witnessed. I like it as an entertaining, seeing how people play with this idea in fics.

I don’t like it as a plot possibility

P.S. also this theory means there’s no possibility for us to see Aziraphale’s apology dance AND I NEED TO SEE IT

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #inneffable husbands #azicrow #anthony j crowley

13 notes · View notes