#destiny dissents

[bioluminosity]

hey, uh...whatcha got there? ft. @rivaldi22's ocs and mine

[flowers-of-io]

Why is nobody talking about how TFS is a story of redemption. I realised it yesterday; how we "destroy" the Witness not by feeding it enough bullets, but by giving the Dissenters the opportunity at penance and redemption. We don't even "redeem" them by our hand! It's their own choice, and we merely help them achieve this goal. We topple the Witness by beaming Light at it; by literally letting the Light in. TFS is a story about how there is never too late to turn back; how the door is always open, the option to change your mind is always on the table, there for you to take it; you can always, always, return to the Light. There is always forgiveness there for you. TWQ was revolutionary by presenting this idea with regards to the Hive (and Savathûn in particular), you know, the worst murderous race in the cosmos--but the Witness is so much worse. It is as close as it gets to the devil. It's THE evil-maker of the universe. And yet there was a part of it that wanted to change, that made the choice to repent, and *this* is what allowed us to finally triumph over it. I'm so insane about this. There is always always always always hope for you, no matter how far gone you think you are.

[hyakunana]

Iconoclasm

[thefirstknife]

Any thoughts on the fact that prior to The Final Shape all the veiled Darkness statues that we encountered were, um, female coded? Well endowed. Busty. Look they had tits is what I'm saying.

Previous to TFS my thought was either that The Darkness was presented as a female aspect - that old yin/yang thing (though The Light was never connected with the masculine to my recollection) or the Darkness was picking this form just to mess with us.

Now that we've been told they're exiled components of The Witness group mind I just have more questions. Were there simply more female Dissenters? Did the Witness send them specifically to us? (Mind you if they're veiled aliens and not human at all maybe those aren't breasts in the first place.)

Also, are they potentially still alive?

Yeah, there's been a lot of talk about this prior! Now that we know... Honestly? I definitely think this might just be what they look like. We may be projecting onto them (aka labelling them female because of their shape), but they're aliens; it's very possible that this is just a part of their biology that all of them share. Because all seem to have that silhouette even in cutscenes (though a little less exaggerated which is normal for statues; statues often emphasise things beyond what these things would normally look like):

The next one is particularly interesting because it's not just showing dissenters; it's showing all of them when they made the Witness. You can also tell that they're not all exact copies; they differ in height and weight, or at least it looks that way to me:

Some also appear to be... bustier? I genuinely think that this is just what they all look like. Alternatively, if we want to assume their biology is closer to ours, it's also possible they're made this way to imply they're a single-sex species. Common in scifi! This one is also cool:

The veils are a little translucent so they almost show a bit of the shape beneath? There's something uncanny about it in a way. Alien designs compel me.

We genuinely have not really seen what the Witness' species really looked like besides the upper portion of the head. And in this case we can see that the hand is humanoid (when it holds the shard). But what's beneath the veils? No clue. I think the inspiration for them definitely came from the veiled female statues we have, but we don't know what's going on beneath it all for a really ancient alien species. Really cool to think about though!

Not sure if it's possible that some of them might be alive. To destroy the Witness, they were fairly clear that they all have to be destroyed with it. However, there is at least one of them that never joined the creation of the Witness and has presumably survived, though it's unclear if they would still be alive today. Mentioned in the TFS CE and also in one of the pages of the raid lore book which is linked to the story from the TFS CE!

[torobatl]

mmmmm dissenter oc go brrrrrrrrr

[hiddency]

One of my favorite things about the reveal of the dissenter statues in The Final Shape is how it casts all the statues we've seen up to this point in a new light. The Lunar Pyramid, The Black Garden, Clarity Control, all once stood as imposing monoliths that heralded the arrival of The Witness, with their ominous whispering we naively assumed to be dark temptations by our enemy on the horizon. We now know them to be tragic figures cast out into a horrifying fate, forced to lead other towards an end goal that they spoke out against and were punished for. Their ominous whisperings actually being distressing warning and abject cries for help to save them from this cursed existence

Idk I just think Destiny is really good at long term story telling and set up/payoff

[makingqueerhistory]

Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

The Witness and Why It (and its demise) Means Everything to Me (A POC Perspective)

Hey everyone!! The Final Shape has ruined me and has brought me to levels of not only grief, but hope, that I did not think possible, so I decided to give my thoughts on the different aspects of it that moved me to a place where I can be at peace with many things in my life and look forward to paving a better future!!! I think I’ll be making many posts pertaining to the Final Shape as a way to help me express my thoughts on how important this DLC was to me, but we will see!

Please note that these are just my loose, not fully structured thoughts and I’m yapping. My opinions are subject to change and I’d love to hear the input of others! We will be talking about subjects such as slavery, religion, black experiences, and personal experiences of mine!!! It’s very long too, so I’m sorry about that and any writing errors!!

Though I do not believe what I speak of was fully Bungie’s intentions when making the character, the implications and views you can take on the Witness do relate to what I will discuss.

I wanted to start off my return to tumblr with one of the many, many reasons why I have such a deep attachment to the Witness (Precursors and Dissenters will get a different post bc they mean the world to me too!!) , because truly, this entity owns my whole life. I think of it all the time, it lingers in my thoughts, my art, my writing, all of it. It has been so deeply intertwined with my enjoyment of Destiny since it appeared and has offered so much to my perception of the world. I do not think I will truly get over it and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t draw it every chance I get. It appears in every single thought of mine, it’s bad you guys.

I love the Witness so deeply because I have never harbored such a personal level of DISGUST for a character before. As much as I joke about it being silly and the love of my life, the very existence of the Witness revolts me to the core and the tragedies it has directly or indirectly caused squeeze my heart empty. This festering rot of an egregore SICKENS me as it is the beliefs that has robbed me and many others of family, culture, and livelihoods given form. My love for the Witness comes from how it instills in me such HATRED, and truly, we were far too kind to it in game.

For context, I am Caribbean American and have a tumultuous relationship with my heritage for many reasons, but it wasn’t until the Witness and its many victims that I felt like the religious imperialism that has affected my heritage was represented in a way that crept into my spirit.

My Caribbean mother always said to me that we are of this world, not in it. That the hearts of men are wicked and sin (cruelty) was embedded in existence itself. It is only when we give ourselves to a higher purpose that we will be free in the end from all suffering. To her, this life and everything in it did not truly matter for it was a temporary challenge to overcome in order to earn an eternity of salvation. A perfect paradise was awaiting us all if we just gave into the way and left everything else behind.

These were all convictions she held to her very core as she tried to shed away all other aspects of herself to give into this “truth”, especially her Caribbean culture.

She did not always believe this way, but to her, the island she came from did not truly matter at all. Those “wayward people” she grew up with were not worth anything and would die as nobodies on that nowhere island for their lives were not saved, even if they knew of the “truth”. In her adopted views, those people believed in false gods and practices (such as Vodou and beliefs that belonged to those taken from Africa and indigenous populations), they invited in frivolous wants of the flesh such as lust (with „improper“ attire and certain dances), and committed crimes that proved to her that they could never be anything more than what they already were (though she would be blinded to the fact that these behaviors are a result of hostile environments created by the systems established for slavery and racial subjugation). If she wanted to be fit for “walking the right path”, those people had to be left behind for they were lost causes who could not be saved unless they were delivered by the “respectable” ways of life. She had to discard her black mannerisms, hair, speech, and more to have a place amongst the truly chosen.

Religious imperialism has a long history of being heavily tied to discussions of race and colonialism as those who participated in subjugation believed themselves to be more enlightened than the people they brought devastation to, giving them an entitlement that drove them to force their way of viewing religion onto populations. After all, in their minds, they were doing the greatest good for they were setting the people they subjugated on a path for eternal paradise. There was no cost too high in this finite life for infinite salvation to colonizers and all efforts to convert populations who did not see this truth would be “necessary”. People would die or be forced into servitude in mass to support the ambitions of the “enlightened” ones, whole cultures and populations being scrubbed from the face of this Earth in an attempt to “heal what is sick”, to “break broken bones again to heal them right”. I think of all the generations lost to war, slavery, colonialism, and every other act done to deliver “purpose” onto others, all the people whose names will never be known because others used the breath needed to utter it on preaching of their own virtue, and I am left in ruin.

I think of how my mother speaks of those lost to destitute lives because of the social pillaging of the island as an unfortunate side effect of guiding them to the truth and I look at how her world view has been ruined.

My mother thought she was saving me by keeping me from my culture, my people, my family. I did not get to know the language, the customs, the land, but I did get to know how much my mother thought those were distractions. She spent my whole life trying to cement the truths given to her by the same people who left her island in such as state that she felt like she had to run from it, to ensure I would not grow into a person, but a vessel of the righteous message. After all, to be a person is to be complex, nuanced, and flawed and there was no room for that in the visions given to her. The complexities and human flaws that came with our culture would only distract us from giving our whole lives to freeing ourselves from the curse of existence.

The cruelty the Witness delivers with such gentleness as it razes civilizations, its unwavering belief that it is the objective truth and other perspectives are blind to this truth, the means it will use to get that “justified” end, its gut wrenching to me and all that has been lost throughout human history to ideologies that bear the same qualities. Its zealous, static nature that relies on circular reasoning keeps me up at night and makes me mourn what could have been if the unfamiliar and hard to understand parts of human expression were allowed to flourish instead of being eradicated for diverging from someone’s vision of what makes a life worth living. I see this big eyed vessel, incapable of growth and convinced of its own righteousness and my chest feels like it is going to cave in. I see its disciples and pawns in the faces of too many people I know and recall their stories in moments that remind me how poisonous what the Witness represents is.

The Witness is an evil that has hollowed out lives, homes, land, and futures, especially for those who come from heritages that have persevered against attempts to “rectify” them. I still grieve the empty life my mother lives and the people left to suffer the consequences of daring to create their own meaning. I look at the face of the Witness and think of the “burdens lifted off my mother’s shoulders” by those who thought themselves as witnesses of a truth that could not be contested with interpretations that could not be questioned. She prides herself on being a weapon wielded to correct the sinful hearts of men, but I just wish she prided herself on being a person because those who “delivered” her robbed people of color of personhood entirely.

The Witness is not a person, but the embodiment of these deeply rooted ideologies and concepts that affect so many. It’s horror, both in game and the parallels it has in reality, is far too grand and unfathomable for me to bear its weight on my soul and not agonize. Its very existence is monstrous, despite the understandable intentions that went into its making, and my stomach churns at the mere thought of it.

How many species in the Destiny universe will we never know about because their whole galaxy was used to get closer to the Final Shape? How many star systems were left barren because of the Witness’ ambitions? How many children, spouses, artists, philosophers, siblings, neighbors, and more, people who were something, became nothing because of eons of the Witness‘ justifications? Bile boils just thinking of it.

What the Witness represents has hung over my head my whole life and its perverse touch lingers on the whole Destiny universe, tracing many of the depraved atrocities in the game back to itself. It’s death in the Final Shape, at the hands of those it had turned into victims and left to deal with the repercussions of its influence united together, moved me in ways I do not think I could ever properly articulate. To see beloved characters I had given a decade of my life to come together from different backgrounds with different reasons to defeat such a heinous entity, I felt like I could do my part to bring others together, despite our struggles and differences, to rebuild what had been taken from us.

As a person of color from a group of people many still think are undeserving of life, seeing so many characters I have related to over the years say “I matter because I decided to and you can’t take that away from me” to an entity who thought itself so refined that it got to determine everyone’s worth strengthened my entire being. Existing as a person of color is bold in and of itself, but the defeat of the Witness at the hands of people who wanted to exist so bad they risked everything for it ignited in me a flame to be audacious. My existence and culture as a poc is unsightly and heretical, but TFS encouraged me to take on the prejudices of others by saying “Here, despite generations being molded into a “perfect” image and so many lives lost in the struggle to live personal truths, ergo sum. Ergo sum and there is nothing wrong with that”.

To me, the Witness’ death showed me that the stains left behind by social structures such as religious imperialism and colonialism can be overcome by people banding together to make the future different from the past. When we embrace the subjectivity of existence, we can create spaces for different views on life to flourish and reconnect with the nuances of this world. We can better the lives of our people, no matter who they are, not by abandoning all cultural practices and ways of life that were deemed meaningless, but by rebuilding our societies to allow for fulfilling lives and self efficacy for all.

My people no longer have to let imperial powers decide our fate for us or decide that we can be nothing other than the „nature of our race“ that they believe is inferior. Instead of looking up at others who asserted themselves as more enlightened for salvation, we can look at each other and realize there is no one truth to life, especially one worth all the devastation and cruelty placed against those who lived differently. The intricacies of life often lead people to belief systems that allow for comfort and understanding, alleviating the anxiety of possibly living an improper life that will forfeit a desirable afterlife. It is up to individuals to decide what makes their life fulfilling and what beliefs will guide their actions, for no one can make your fate but you.

My mother still likes to wear the patterns of the island and keeps paintings of island scenery in her room. She talks on the phone in patois when she doesn’t feel the pressure to be “proper”. She misses her mother because she used to make dishes from home. To relate it to Destiny, she still has the coordinates to her Lubrae in her pyramid despite convincing herself abandoning it all was for the best and there was nothing there worth keeping. I once thought reconnecting with our heritage alongside her would be a frivolous endeavor, but I hope that with time and understanding, the Witness may not have power over her anymore and she won’t look back on her disassociation with relief. Time and understanding will make our island grow and flourish, free to decide what it wants to be, not held back by preconceived notions of the worth of its existence.

Despite all the Witnesses in the world, I will persist on and try to acquaint myself with my culture without shame. The Witness is everything to me because I hope one day it desecrates nothing ever again. I hope the Witness becomes nothing at all and the cultures it has corrupted make themselves something audacious.

Thank you guys so much for reading!! I hope you guys don’t mind the vague language, I chose to spare some details for my own sake and to make the message more applicable!! I’d love to hear the takes of other people about this bc I love hearing people’s perspectives!! And always remember, no one makes your fate but you!!! Go be audacious!!!!

[mysterycitrus]

recently finished batgirl 2000 and i'm feeling Insane about her. do you have any opinions on the run? the character herself?

bro cass cain and batgirl 2000 are litchrally on my mind 24/7 and the more i think about her the more unhinged i become. how perfectly she mirrors bruce’s own internal struggle. her love for all things living. her desire to change. her disconnection from everyone in her life by speaking a language only her mother knows. her belief in the good. her absolute self-conviction and confidence to the detriment of her own life. the roses. wow wow wow

the more i read the more ive completely lost patience with comic fans who totally ignore or rebuke her as a character in comparison to bruce’s other kids. talking about the male robins with her noticeably absent is an immediate close tab. “she’s boring” “she’s underdeveloped” “she’s not as interesting” just tells me they’ve never actually read her run, or engaged with her character in good faith. her total exclusion from fan content about the waynes, her absence in fanfic, her reduction to a smiling, placid little girl who isn’t allowed a dissenting opinion. she has a single comic run from the early aughts that’s better than anything published this decade please be so incredibly serious!!!

she’s the most like bruce by any metric. dick understands bruce better than anyone, but cass is bruce, for both the good and bad. he sees her commitment to giving everyone a chance, sees her devotion to life, and is both awed and horrified. there’s a bit outta persephone that i still think about a lot:

Cassandra replies: “I was born into violence. Not to this life, but something worse. I was made to hurt people. I chose differently. I changed the path and found this. This new life, new purpose, new home.” She taps the symbol on her chest. “This, I wear to help people. To protect them. To start each day better, and brighter. The way I grew up… it was isolated, and lonely. I spoke a language no one else understood. There was no kindness because a weapon is to be used. Used to hurt, and cut, and kill. Who cares what a tool thinks?��

in my mind she is thee only choice for batman if bruce retires — for literally anyone else it’d just be character regression. dick would rather kill himself. the cowl would kill tim. jason needs to grow his own morals. damian works better as a narrative foil by attaining his own mantle, his own destiny. if nightwing is what batman could never be, then cass is what batman should be. she cares about the mantle, and has made it her own. she embodies all of bruce’s worst habits, but overcomes them. she is what gotham truly needs.

[jbk405]

I think I've found one of the key reasons why I prefer the old Expanded Universe to the current Star Wars content: Unique types of villains.

More specifically, people who weren't just Evil Force Users With Long Robes And Red Lightsabers. While there were always a few Darth Vader-clones that popped up to fill up space, so many of the Arc Villains were distinct not just in personality, but also how they were dangerous.

Grand Admiral Thrawn was a military tactician, which wasn't the point of any of the main villains in the Original Trilogy. Grand Moff Tarkin was a "Build a bigger superweapon and bludgeon the galaxy into submission" kind of villain, and Vader and the Emperor were mystical dark wizards. This isn't a complaint or criticism, but just pointing out that military tactics were never on display in the films since that wasn't the type of story they were telling. But Thrawn didn't have prophetic powers or Destiny, he had to analyze and plan around what he could learn about his adversaries. It's a different type of fight than Literal Magic. In the original Thrawn Trilogy, Captain Pellaeon frequently internally narrates how different Thrawn's style of leadership was to either Vader or the Emperor (Even if his art-analysis did verge on magic by itself).

Ysanne Isard was a political and/or espionage manipulator, which was even less a point of the Original Trilogy than military tactics were. She took advantage of the realities of actually needing to build a nation out of an underground military movement. With all of the dirty gutter politics, self-serving agendas, and logistics that doom so many revolutionary movements. I'm not as big a fan of her arc as I was when I was younger (I re-read the Rogue Squadron novels a few years ago and the writing quality is not as good as I remember, and Isard's plans frankly don't hold a lot of water), but the concept is still fantastic.

Warlord Zsinj on the surface seems like a merger of Thrawn and Isard -- he's a military commander who specializes in espionage -- but he also has a big focus that neither of them demonstrated: Business. While he still blows stuff up with his giant space ships and is sowing dissent through brainwashing and spycraft, he's simultaneously establishing a galaxy-wide network of completely-legitimate commercial businesses that he owns through untraceable pseudonyms. They fund his campaigns, give him influence on planets outside of his direct control, and allow him to control resources without any of his adversaries even being aware of it.

Even one-shot enemies like the Ssi-ruuk were so unique: They're invading the galaxy because their technology is powered by living souls and they want to harvest all life in the galaxy. That's messed up, and so distinct from the general "Take over the world" motivation of the Empire.

But as time went on, more and more of the enemies were just "Darth Vader Again". Another Jedi who fell to the Dark Side, or another long-lost schism of the Sith who rediscovered mainstream galactic society, or some other thing that is eventually resolved by a one-on-one lightsaber duel and a personal grudge against the Skywalker or Solo families. It definitely felt like they were out of ideas and kept running through the same villains over and over again.

This kicked into high gear after the Prequels came out, and continued in the new continuity after the EU was rebranded as "Legends".

I wish we could go back to the idea that there could be an enemy who wasn't super powerful in the force and consumed by Hatred Of The Jedi. With their own skills, their own methods, and something that makes them more than just another wannabe-Sauron. Pirates who are just pirates, marauding ex-Imperial Warlords who are just marauding ex-Imperial Warlords, and corrupt politicians who are just corrupt politicians, instead of revealing that Palpatine returned (somehow) all over again.

[andy-15-07]

Night Change

masterlist ! pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

SUMMARY : When two souls become one

GENRE: fluff, loveeee

The opulent ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and elaborate floral arrangements as Y/n descended the grand staircase, her ivory gown cascading around her like a waterfall of silk and lace. The room hushed in awe at the breathtaking sight before them. All eyes were on her as she made her way towards the altar, where Coriolanus Snow, the enigmatic and powerful leader of Panem, awaited.

Coriolanus stood at the front, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his authoritative presence. His steely gaze softened as he watched Y/n approach, captivated by her radiance. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as they locked eyes, a silent promise passing between them.

The ceremony commenced with the officiant's words flowing through the air like a gentle melody. Y/n and Coriolanus exchanged vows, each word spoken with sincerity and love. As they slid the rings onto each other's fingers, a tangible connection formed, sealing their destinies together.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared, and a wave of applause erupted from the gathered crowd. Y/n and Coriolanus shared a tender kiss, sealing the union they had both longed for.

The reception unfolded with opulence, the ballroom transformed into a dreamscape of music, laughter, and decadent cuisine. Y/n and Coriolanus moved gracefully through the throng of guests, their connection evident in the shared glances and subtle touches that passed between them.

Amid the festivities, Y/n found a moment to steal away with her new husband to a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The night air was cool against their skin as they gazed at the sprawling lights below.

"Coriolanus," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I never imagined I'd find myself here, married to the most powerful man in Panem."

He turned to her, a small smile playing on his lips. "And I never thought I'd find someone who could challenge me, who could understand the complexities of this world we live in."

Y/n's eyes softened as she looked into his. "I love you, Coriolanus Snow, with all that I am."

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. "And I love you, Y/n, more than words could ever express. You are my equal, my partner in every sense."

The night continued with dancing and revelry, the couple moving effortlessly through the sea of well-wishers. Yet, amidst the celebration, a shadow of concern crossed Coriolanus's face.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, "I know that my role in Panem has garnered its fair share of enemies. Are you prepared for the challenges that may come our way?"

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "I am prepared for anything, Coriolanus. As long as we face it together."

He nodded, a mixture of gratitude and determination in his eyes. "Together, then."

The following days were a whirlwind of celebrations and newfound responsibilities. Y/n took on her role as the First Lady of Panem with grace and poise, standing by Coriolanus's side as they navigated the intricacies of political life.

Despite their united front, challenges did arise. Whispers of dissent and disapproval circulated among the Capitol elite, casting a shadow on their union. Y/n faced public scrutiny with resilience, standing firm beside her husband. Coriolanus, in turn, took decisive actions to quell the unrest, demonstrating to the Capitol that their leader's happiness was not to be trifled with.

One evening, as they strolled through the rose gardens of the Presidential Mansion, Y/n spoke softly to Coriolanus. "I never expected this life, but with you, I am willing to face whatever challenges come our way."

He took her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles. "Y/n, you are my anchor, my source of strength. Together, we are unstoppable."

Their love story unfolded against the backdrop of political intrigue and societal expectations, a tale of two souls bound together in a world that sought to tear them apart. But through it all, Y/n and Coriolanus faced each obstacle with unwavering commitment, emerging stronger and more united than ever.

As they stood together on the balcony of the Presidential Mansion, gazing out at the Capitol skyline, they knew that their love was a force that transcended the boundaries of politics and power—a love that would endure, unyielding, against the tides of time.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

long time no poll? :)

[delicatebarness]

safe & sound | prologue

Summary: Bucky is given his new assignment.

Warning: Mob AU. Age Gap (Bucky - late 40s/Reader - early 20s). Dad's Best Friend. Mentions of Violence/Blood/Bones. Mentions of weapons.

Word Count: 423

Spotify Playlist

Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: I wanted to just get on with it and make a start. As always feedback is appreciated and highly encouraged :) thank you!!

Tags: Let me know if you want to be tagged.

In the city's heart, shadows danced in the alleyways and whispers carried weight, the weight of the Rogers dynasty. Steve Rogers, a man of authority, led his empire with a determination that brooked no dissent. His wife, Natasha Romanoff-Rogers stood by his side, an equal in every sense, and her presence was as chilling as a winter evening. 

Their legacy was filled with secrets, built upon the bones and blood of those who dared to oppose them—bounded by a fierce love that went beyond the chaos they masterminded. 

Then, there were the twins. Their children, you and Peter, bore the weight of your parents' legacy on your shoulders.

Peter was the elder twin, a reflection of your father’s determination. From a young age, your parents groomed him to inherit the family business. He was schooled in the art of manipulation and intimidation. 

You were the younger twin and the polar opposite of your brother. Where Peter had embraced the darkness of the family name, you sought out the light. Your innocence remained untarnished as you wandered through life with wonder and hope. 

Together, you were the heirs to the Rogers legacy, a legacy steeped in blood and betrayal.

Your paths diverged further as you grew older. Peter had immersed himself in your family’s business, an ambition driving him to climb the ranks of the underworld. One day, take over your father’s mantle.

On the other hand, you yearned for something more, something that went beyond the confines of your family’s gilded cage. 

As the Rogers legacy thrived, a whisper of a testament to the power, love, and loyalty lurked within. You and Peter stood at the edge of your destinies as a shadow of your father’s past loomed ever larger, threatening to consume the Rogers whole. 

It was in the wake of this ominous threat that your father, the patriarch of your family, made a decision that altered the course of your life forever. Concerned for your safety, he turned to his oldest friend, a man who was forged from the same steel as himself: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Known throughout the underground as “The Winter Soldier” but to you and Peter, he was “Uncle Bucky.” 

“Will you protect her, Buck?” Your father’s voice was grave as he asked for his friend's support, his eyes reflected a weight of the world that had settled upon his shoulders. 

Bucky’s gaze met his with a solemn node. “You don’t even have to ask, Steve.” And with their agreement, a new chapter in your life began.

---

Masterlist | Next Chapter

[3pirouette]

I will eventually clean this up and post to AO3, but I’m bordering on being late for work because of this ficlet.

I think we all need this right now.

Fic: Tomorrow starts the work. (1/1) Steggy

You can see this as either a part of my Dissents Speak or Seven if we’re lucky Universes…

~*~

It was a devastating blow.

Sitting, watching the results come in.

Watching each state turn red.

“Red Mirage, blue wave,” Steve muttered to himself as he paced between phone calls and texts, over and over for hours on end, managing the flow of information between Peggy and the outside world.

“It’s not coming,” she finally conceded, holding back tears.

“It’s still-“

“No,” she finally interrupted him, sniffing back her emotion. “No. It’s not coming.” Peggy stood, pulling at her shirt and reaching for her jacket. “I’ll have to meet with everyone, put together a speech.”

”I don’t understand how,” he said softly, looking between her and the screen, devastated and forlorn and confused. “We worked so hard, we told the truth, we showed everyone what the difference was…”

”And they weren’t ready,” Peggy said softly, sadly, as she reached for him, entwining her fingers in his. “So may people are, but not enough understood what was at stake.”

”What… what do we do?” He stammered, clutching her hand tight.

She looks at the TV, muted, with the prediction blaring in bold letters across the banner at the bottom: they’ve lost. It’s undeniable. “We try to sleep. We concede gracefully.”

Peggy smiles at him, reaching up and letting her hand run over his cheek. “You never even considered the possibility, did you, darling?”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t understand how…”

She sighs, full of love for the man before her, his optimism and his passion, and for the loss they’ve both now suffered. For the loss so many have suffered.

“Neither do I,” she reminds him gently, “but I need you to.” She can only smile at his quizzical look. “Tonight we can be sad, but tomorrow starts the work. This was an election, not a sentencing. Nothing is written in stone. For every policy, for every bill, for every ideaology he puts forward, we need to be there, ready to fight for what we know everyone deserves.”

He shakes his head, astounded at her strength. “I’m just- I’m so fucking tired, Peg…”

”Aren’t we all, darling?” She can’t keep the bone deep weariness out of her voice. “But we carry on, because that’s what we do. We carry on, because someone needs to fight, to educate, to do. The more we do, the more others will, too. If we stand still, if we get bogged down by this defeat, nothing will change. We will create that destiny for ourselves. Tomorrow is still unknown, and I’m going to do damn well everything in my power to make sure it isn’t the outcome I’m afraid of.”

He pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. “You’re right.”

She laughs, even if a tear does escape her eyes. “Of course I’m right, darling.”

”Tomorrow starts the work,” he affirms, stepping back and running his thumb over her cheek, wiping away her single errant tear.

She smiles up at him, tinged with fear and loss, but full of the hope she never gives up on, “Tomorrow starts the work.”

[thefirstknife]

Delighted to announce that we officially have some insight into the Dread and finally their pronouns.

Selin and Yemiq are the two subjugators from the Dual Destiny mission, the final bosses and their lore is on the dungeon gloves. Selin is referred to as they, it and she in the lore! Actually incredibly cool how it's written to make sure it's understandable but undeniable that the same character is using multiple pronouns. Yemiq is also referred to with two pronouns: they and she.

"Their" in this one is referring to Selin (first) and Yemiq (second). And then just below:

In case anyone still doubts, the Witness is only referred to with it/its, including a capital "It" which is interesting:

And finally, the boss of the dungeon, a Dread Psion, uses neopronouns, ey/em:

This is on the exotic sparrow from the dungeon (Future Proof). It's so cool that they did this, although I predict fighting in the trenches about everyone misgendering em.

Extremely neat information though for Dread enjoyers and everyone who wants more about what they're like and how they're evolving.

The rest of the armour lore is quite sad and visceral, talking about how they were made and how they were trying to break free and be something else, but the Witness was able to control them. I am hoping we keep getting more especially now that the Witness is dead. Maybe one day the Dread can be free.

Probably the worst part for me was the leg armour piece where the lore shows that the Grim were made as punishment to Dissenters. The Witness turned some Dissenters into these unthinking and unspeaking creatures that can't do anything. The more we kill them, the more they lose themselves and their identities and memories. Putting that whole section under read more because I'm genuinely devastated:

Okay man. I'm not killing Grim again.

[rainbowolfe]

[Originally Written 9/25/2023]

[Present Day Note: Why the FUCK didn't I post this? Not only was it mostly done BUT I WAS RIGHT IN THE FIRST HALF?]

Not to be a Narinder apologist, but for all his supervillain-esque "I'm gonna rule the world" and claims of having a "cold, unbeating heart", I think he really was the one that was betrayed lmao. The true victim after all. Just on a destructive rampage.

He's just. Too upset about it for this to be a manipulative front. I am 99% sure this isn't supposed to be a glow effect. Unless he's got spring allergies, this man has been ugly-crying for a millennia.

He's so sad that the tears manifest in his transformation. That's some deeply-rooted sadness!

So when Shamura asks Lamb about betrayal and then summons a follower to fight them, what that's supposed to mean is that Shamura attacked Narinder. And the greater implication would be that they did it because they were dissenting.

"Dissenting" is presented as someone believing they've seen through some kind of illusion and are now enlightened with the truth. But the thing is, they're wrong. What Dissenters believe is that their doubts were right and their fears have become reality.

Which, ya know, they are the ones with hearts *squints* cast in vile, impermeable, unrelenting terror.

"And in my imprudence I loved him."

It could very well be that "in my imprudence" is Shamura's flowery way of saying "while I was dissenting". Meaning they feel that their love for Narinder is not only foolish, but born from their heretecism. In their mind, the two options can't coexist. They can love Narinder, or they can serve the Old Faith. And their attempt to combine those two things (have their cake and eat it too) ended in disaster.

And it's fascinating that, because Shamura's skull was damaged, they seem to be fading between their Dissenting and Not-Dissenting states of mind. Dissenter Shamura, who sent Narinder kits in the void so he wouldn't be lonely. Who feels guilty for what they've done. Faithful Shamura, who locked Narinder up in the first place. Who participated in killing all lambs so he wouldn't ever be freed.

The God of Knowledge vs the God of War. Cultist Shamura vs Heretic Shamura. Blessed Shamura vs Damned Shamura.

Bearers of the Red Crown have been troublemakers for multiple millennia, so that means there's already a seed planted that one day Narinder may succumb to the crown and betray them all. So if he starts asking questions that make others uncomfortable or even doubt their faith, it would not be difficult for someone to poison the well.

Then there's the second time Shamura summons your followers. It could be foreshadowing for Aym and Baal, but that would mean that Shamura expects Lamb to try to usurp the crown. Which is entirely possible, but would be an odd decision for someone who has seemingly accepted their fate and subsequent punishment. And in a world where sheep/lambs are expected to amount to nothing more than sacrifices. I have two ideas:

A) This is a parallel to how Shamura and Narinder's relationship formed. A "bond forged by the spilling of blood" is what Shamura says. The two of them fought against their 'leader', potentially a Red Crown user, in a bid to change one or both of their destinies. One of them (most likely Shamura based on that moon on their crown) was slated to be sacrificed.

B) This a parallel to how Shamura and Heket ganked Narinder and sent him to the realm beyond. As at this point, they would both be dissenting against the Red Crown. But instead of abandoning it, they sought to banish it.