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flawedamythyst · 2 years

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A Bit Of A Clothes Horse

Couldn’t stop thinking about Stede having to build up his wardrobe again, post-Reconciliation.

The fight was all over. The crew of the ship were all subdued by the main mast with Fang and Wee John looking over them, and Jim and Roach had brought up the passengers who had been cowering below decks.

Ed had got in the habit of letting Stede lead this part of proceedings, both to even things up because Ed still insisted on Stede staying back while he took charge during the actual raiding parts, and because it always tickled him pink to see how confused their victims were by Stede’s attitude.

“Good afternoon! I’m Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, and I’ll be the one pillaging you today, along with my Co-Captain, the incomparable Blackbeard.”

He made gesture at Ed, which was his prompt to give a little bow and fix anyone who didn’t look sufficiently terrified with the old crazy eyes. There were a couple of gasps, and at least one whimper.

“My crew will be going through the ship for anything of value, but I thought you might like the personal touch for this part of the robbery,” continued Stede. “I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t appreciate your important role in proceedings!”

He beamed around at them. They all just stared back.

“And so, if you’d all just like to remove any jewellery or watches, I’ll come round myself to relieve you of them.” Stede pulled a midnight blue velvet bag out of his pocket, which he’d had Frenchie sew for specifically this purpose, and gave it a little flourish. Ed couldn’t have loved him more.

He did have his own role to play in this part of their pageantry, though, and couldn’t get too distracted by just gazing at Stede with his heart in his eyes. He stepped forward, and glowered at them all. “Don’t even think about holding anything back,” he said. “I’da sooner stab you as look at you, I’d love any fucking excuse.”

There was another whimper and one mildly shocked noise at his language, from a particularly foppish-looking middle-aged man in the front row. Ed made sure to fix his next mad-man-on-the-brink-of-a-rampage glare at him.

“Lovely!” said Stede, clapping his hands as they all slowly started taking off rings and necklaces. “Let’s keep this all nice and easy shall we? The sooner we’ve robbed you blind, the sooner we’ll be on our way and you can start processing through the trauma.”

He started going around the group, bag held out, while Ed stood back and looked threatening, while mostly just admiring Stede’s legs in his special raiding breeches.

“Ah, yes, there we go, just in the bag please, lovely. Oh, I think you’ve just forgotten those earrings, they’re a bit hidden behind your hair, if you could...yes, there we go. Hello, what do you have? That’s lovely, thank you, just- Oh! Oh, Ed, come and look at this.”

Ed tore his eyes away from Stede’s arse and wandered over to see what had caught his eye. He was standing in front of a man who had been standing near the back of the group - cowering, even, if Ed was to give it a name. Stede had his hand on his coat sleeve and was gently stroking in a way that made jealousy instantly flush through the whole of Ed’s body. He fixed a glare at the man that made him blanch white with fear.

“Ed! Touch this!” said Stede, happily oblivious. “Feel how soft it is!”

Ed reached out and gently touched the jacket. “S’that silk?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Stede, “The very highest quality, look at the expert weaving here. And the embroidery! These details are just beautiful.”

Ed looked. The coat was a light blue-green that he’d seen Stede wear before, back before almost all his clothes had ended up in the sea. The embroidery around the lapels and cuffs was in silver, delicately picking out swirls and flourishes.

“This has to have come from Europe,” said Stede. “France, even?”

He looked at the man, who seemed to be frozen stiff as two notorious pirates gently fondled his jacket. “Uh, yes,” he stuttered. “France, exactly. There’s a boutique in Paris I went to, they made it up for me.”

“Paris!” exclaimed Stede and leaned in closer. “Oh gosh! You’ve just come from there?”

The man nodded a few too many times.

“Oh yes, I can see, your cravat, is that Flemish lace? Look, Ed, you can see their distinctive style, here, and here.”

Ed looked, and it just looked like any other bit of lace to him, although maybe a tad daintier. “Looks nice.”

“Yes,” agreed Stede. “It really does.”

He took a step back and eyed the man over. “Would you mind unbuttoning so I can see your waistcoat properly?”

The man clearly did mind but his fingers moved to his jacket buttons anyway, fumbling a couple of times as he opened them. Stede took in the waistcoat underneath and let out a quiet sigh of contentedness that Ed usually only heard in bed. “Oh, look, Ed, periwinkles. So beautifully done!”

Periwinkles turned out to be a kind of flower, tiny and blue. The waistcoat was very fine, and must have taken some poor seamstress hours and hours.

“I suppose if you were in Paris, you took the chance to get a full wardrobe?” Stede said to the man. “I’ve always dreamed of going, visiting all the fashion houses, but I’m sure I’d have to buy a second boat just to bring it all back if I ever did!”

Ed immediately began trying to work out the logistics on getting Stede to Paris with a heap of gold to spend on fancy clothes.

“It was wonderful,” said the man, apparently relaxing slightly as it didn’t seem like he was immediately about to be stabbed. “I spent rather too much, I’m sure my father will be horrified once I’m back in Virginia.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure he will be,” said Stede, still staring at the clothes. He looked the man up and down in an assessing way that made Ed bristle, then said, “What do you think Ed? He’s about my size, isn’t he?”

Ed looked back at the man, who had tensed up again. The coat and waistcoat would fit Stede fine, but the breeches might be a bit tight.

Which was just how Ed liked breeches on Stede, if he were being honest. “Yeah, looks good, mate.”

Stede beamed. “Wonderful! If you could just take everything off, then.”

“What?!”

Stede twirled his hand impatiently. “Come on, come on, all of it off.”

“But...there are ladies present!”

Stede looked over at the handful of women in the party, who were watching proceedings with the same blank stare that everyone else was while the Revenge’s crew moved around them, pulling out all the supplies and other valuables from the hold.

“So there are,” said Stede. “They all looked fairly sensible though, I’m sure they can cope.” He looked back at the man. “Come on, now, I don’t want to have to get bloodstains on any of it.”

That was enough of a threat for the man to start moving, taking off the jacket and handing it to Stede, and then moving to unbutton his waistcoat.

Stede stroked a hand over the coat with obvious delight, then held it up to himself to check the fit. “Oh yes, perfect,” he said happily. “Which cabin is yours?”

“Oh, the second portside one,” said the man, and then hesitated. “Why?”

Stede gave him a blooming grin that Ed could see the edge of devilish amusement to, and wanted to just ravish him there and then. He refrained, mostly to avoid damaging Stede’s new coat and getting into trouble.

“Frenchie!” called Stede. “Can you make sure we get all the clothes in the second portside cabin? You know how to take care of nice fabrics, don’t you?”

“Of course, Captain!” said Frenchie. “I’m on it like a...Stede Bonnet!” He gave a little flourish and hurried off below decks.

The man made a sad little noise and his shoulders dropped. “All of them?” he said mournfully.

Stede patted his shoulder comfortingly. “At least you won’t have to tell your father you spent all his money on clothes. Just tell him you were very frugal and brining most of it back, but it was stolen by a pair of dastardly pirates.” He frowned and rubbed his hand back over the man’s shoulder. “Oh dear,” he said. “This shirt just doesn’t match the quality of the rest of the outfit. You know, it’s false economy to think that just because it’s mostly hidden by the rest, you can buy a cheap shirt for a nice suit. People can always tell.“

Ed had to turn away from the hopeless and bewildered look the man gave Stede or risk starting to laugh and breaking his Blackbeard façade. Instead, he took the velvet bag from Stede and carried on to the rest of the passengers, grabbing anything that looked expensive.

Stede stayed with the man, getting his stockings off him, and then trying on his shoes before reluctantly deciding they were too small for him.

He took them anyway because, “I’m sure someone on the crew can get some use out of them, and the buckles are very elegant.”

Two weeks ago, Stede had let a woman keep a golden locket just because she said it contained the only image she had of her dead child (although he had taken the chain, which was now around Ed’s neck.) Three days ago, he let a crew keep half their gunpowder because, ‘There are some scoundrels in the area, you might need it.’ And yet, today he was stripping a guy to his underwear and literally stealing the coat off his back.

He really was Ed’s favourite lunatic.

#our flag means death #ofmd #Stede Loves Clothes #Ed Loves Stede #They both love stealing shit #My fic #ficlets

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crybaby-bkg · 10 months

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“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.

His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.

“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.

“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.

His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.

“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.

“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”

He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.

“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.

“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.

He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.

#can you tell I watched the first season of good omens today AKSJDKDJD #this is actually my favorite subject matter to write about!!#Ive been writing about it since I was a teen and it’s just so cathartic and relaxing and melancholic in a sense #but I don’t tend to write it for fics bc I usually just write p*rn ajdkdjd #I know this kinda stuff isn’t everybody’s cup of tea but it means a lot to me #at first I was gonna make you guys on either side of each other #but didn’t wanna do the bad boy demon x innocent angel reader thing #and I feel like somebody did the vice versa version too???? I can’t remember but I didn’t wanna unintentionally steal lol #so I just did both fallen angels which I love a shit ton lol #I’m rambling sorry!!!#bakugou treats! 🍬#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#cw religion #cw religious imagery #tagging just to be safe!

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vocaloid-tunes · 8 months

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Servant of Evil -Classical version- | JounetsuP feat. Kagamine Len // Original | mothy feat. Kagamine Len

#kagamine len #jounetsup #mothy #vocaloid #arrange #cover #request #2008 #EVERYONE PAY RESPECTS TO THIS CREATOR RIGHT NOW #this arrange is often taken without proper credit to the person who made it #on top of ppl using the fan PV without credit too #not something uncommon unfortunately early western vocaloid fandom was HORRENDOUS for stealing shit without credit #both for fan PVs and arranges or covers #jounetsu really provided a LOT for us so i think we should give him more love #also i would say im surprised we didnt get this yet but truth be told #i remember posting the original servant of evil here a couple years ago and being surprised we didnt have it #so maybe i should've expected this one to not be posted either #anyways

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leezuhh · 1 year

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"beef" on netflix is so fucking good. i love a show about a small event that turns into something insane that nobody involved could have possibly predicted. also i like steven yeun. spoilers in tags

#amy and danny constantly trying to ruin each other's lives only to constantly get into deeper and deeper shit themselves is. peak.#spoilers follow:#literally like half the main cast dying in a gunfight with cops is Also something i could not have predicted.#rip jordan my favorite toxic lesbian queen. she was only there to start shit. stealing her brothers gf. her constant gay tension w amy #and then she GOT BISECTED???? girls it turned into a horror movie straight up so fast... poor naomi she was just there to fuck bitches.....#liza post #beef netflix #live liza reaction. if they reconcile over paul dying horribly i will have . feelings #anyways RIP paul he was like my favorite character. i love a stupid ass himbo #everyone in this show is a terrible person and it's extremely entertaining #'I AM NOT HELPING YOU UNLESS YOU USE NICE WORDS' you both just crashed your cars off a cliff after chasing each other down. ok #'i see your life' 'you poor thing'#it's such a good show at being funny and dark and poetic and Good. also crow motif xoxo #update PAUL ALIVE SWAG

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stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage · 6 months

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I'm back on my bullshit thinking about the Hawke siblings again and how much I love a "both twins live" AU... but y'know what I love just a little bit more? An AU where all three Hawke siblings are alive, but one of the twins still get attacked by the ogre in Lothering and is presumed dead when they actually survived.

I like to think that since the narrative in DA2 is framed as a story Varric's telling Cassandra, we can play around with the fact that he's an unreliable narrator. Varric wasn't there in Lothering. He only knows what Hawke told him. It makes for a better story if Leandra, Hawke, and the surviving twin get to huddle around the dead twin and say their goodbyes... especially if they didn't actually get to do that. I mean, a lot of us already have that train of thought when it comes to Leandra's death and Hawke getting some closure through her final words telling them how proud she is. Whose to say Varric didn't do that for the lost twin, as well?

All that to ask what if the ogre attack happened, but the group was so overwhelmed by darkspawn they had to flee further and couldn't check the twin who "died?" Flemeth still showed up, but it was too late to go back and say goodbye.... so Hawke made a deal with the Witch of the Wilds and they all pushed forward to Kirkwall.

Imagine Bethany, left behind with broken bones and bleeding in the sand, fading in and out of consciousness as the remaining darkspawn surround her. She knows how to heal, how to fight back, but she's weakened. Her staff lays out of reach. Air shakes in her lungs. She tries to call for help, but only wheezes come out. Where's her mother? Her siblings? Did the ogre get them, too?

At this point, we all know what happens to the women darkspawn take, and Bethany could've met that fate; she doesn't have the strength to fight back as they drag her away. But before they can bring her underground, she's saved by another group of survivors. Perhaps they're more soldiers fleeing Ostagar, or townsfolk who recognize her from Lothering. They do what they can to treat her wounds but she needs a healer, so they bring her with them to seek refuge in Redcliffe... except they eventually realize she's an apostate. Well, she doesn't seem dangerous, but they still contact the templars.

Bethany wakes in a warm but unfamiliar bed with skilled healers tending to her. Templars hover by the doorway. First Enchanter Irving greets her, gentle in explaining she's safe inside of Kinloch Hold and that she's going to survive. When Bethany asks about her family, he gives her a sympathetic smile and says they only found her.

Bethany, who never took to embracing her magic the way her older sibling did and always felt like it burdened her family... has lost that very family. Could they survive the ogre and darkspawn? Or did the ogre tear them apart, too? How did she survive... but not them? Did the Maker really have such a sense of humor? How else would she end up in the Circle, a place her family went to great lengths to keep her safe from?

She doesn't want to think about it. She hopes they made it to Kirkwall, but the prickle of dread that crawls up her spine knows how unlikely it is. Bethany finds comfort in speaking with the mages who rotate in to heal and bring her food. Some feel trapped by their magic just as she does, but others remind her of her older sibling in the way they embrace their magic, a gift from the Maker. The younger apprentices who aid the mages ask her questions about what lies beyond the walls. The templars mostly keep their distance, but one is friendlier than others. A man with curly blonde hair and a sympathetic view of the mages bothers to speak to her more than his fellows do.

She's still in recovery when Uldred and his blood mages attack the tower, but she survives. Bethany heals, even as she's haunted by nightmares of the ogre wrapping its tainted hand around her body to crush her, flinging her aside to lay among the limp bodies of her family... haunted by the horrors the blood mages unleashed on the tower. She aids in restoring the tower the best she can, and accepts her new home, her new life. When she's well enough, she lights a candle for each of them; her father, mother, her eldest sibling, her twin... she even lights a candle for the family mabari, and prays to the Maker to give them her love as they stand at His side.

The Blight ends. Years pass. Bethany settles into her new life, becoming a fine example for the younger apprentices she mentors. She witnesses wrong doings against her fellow mages, loses friends to their harrowings or tranquility. She accepts what she is, even if bitterly. The Chantry's teachings about magic scar more than enlighten; she sees it in some of her fellow mages, feels it in herself. Secret meetings. Whispers of escape, of freedom. More escape attempts. Harsher restrictions.

Around this time, back in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen stands where he always does in the Gallows courtyard. He notices Hawke appear with some of their companions. It hurts to think back to Kinloch Hold, but something occurs to him: he knew of another Hawke who was brought to the Circle while he served there. They only spoke once before... well, before. He wonders if there's any relation. When Hawke wanders over to speak to him, as they always do, Cullen brings it up.

Hawke pales. A beat of silence. Cullen recognizes heartbreak; he sees it unfold in their eyes and swell in their throat as they realize that all this time, their baby sister was alive.

Then the day comes where new whispers float among the mages in the Circle. A visit by a Grey Warden. Most, including Bethany, assume he's here to recruit... until Irving comes to her. He says this warden's requested, though more like insisted, he see her now. But then Irving smiles; the warden in question said his name is Warden Carver. He received an urgent letter that his sister is here, alive, and he demands to know if that's true.

Bethany nearly collapses when she sees him.

While the reunion can't last; she can't leave the Circle and he has his calling; the twins embrace, sobbing out apologies and exclamations that they thought the other was gone. Carver tells her of Kirkwall, the expedition that led him to the Grey Wardens, and their older sibling's status as Champion. With a gentleness she never knew her brother to have, he tells her what happened to their mother, and more tears flow freely. Their sibling learned about her from a templar, though Carver grumbles that the bastard could've said something sooner.

There's the Maker's humor again.

...Now flip the script: imagine Carver being left behind instead.

For as strong and passionate as he is, that ogre still picks him up and slams him to the ground. Bones crack. Black splotches flood his vision, agony exploding across his skin. His sword flies from his hand. The soulless bastard tosses Carver aside like he's nothing, and he's left to lay there. His mother's cries muffle in his ear as though he's stuck underwater, sinking slowly into the dark.

It figured, honestly... that he'd survive Ostagar while his fellow soldiers were cut down all around him, that he and his eldest sibling would flee the field when all hope was lost... that he'd make it home to get his family out of Lothering... only to die protecting his mother. And why not? He is a protector. A warrior. It's a honor to die saving those he loved... so why didn't it give him peace?

Carver eventually wakes in the night among the bodies of fallen darkspawn. Everything aches painfully hot and his thoughts reject coherency. He knows his family is gone; they're dead, or they've fled... either way, he's alone; left behind. Something's broken inside of him, but he has just enough will to pull himself up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of survivors find him- funny enough, the same group who aided Bethany in an alternate timeline. Imagine that.

That's how Carver ended up in Redcliffe's Chantry with an overworked healer tending to him. He doesn't even flinch when the mage works their magic on him, knowing all too well the sensation of healing magic seeping into his skin, mending the flesh. He tries not to think of Bethany, or what might've happened to her.

The Chantry's overwhelmed with townspeople hiding from a danger outside that he can only assume is darkspawn... except it's not. He wonders how hard he hit his head when he hears the undead have come from the castle to slaughter what they can of the town every night. But then he sees it with his own eyes when one breaks in, taken down by a templar, and never before has he ever felt so useless.

Then the last two remaining Grey Wardens arrive. They're crucial in the final fight against the undead, swearing to enter the castle to stop the attacks at the source. While Carver couldn't participate in the final fight, something he complained loudly about, he did what he could in his condition to help like sharpening swords and handing out supplies. Mostly to keep his sanity and quite his thoughts throughout his recovery.

When the time came, he took up his sword again in the name of all those he lost.

An archdemon was said to be on the horizon, and the Grey Wardens needed everyone they could get to fight. Carver fights in the battle of Denerim where the Hero of Fereldan defeated the archdemon. He cuts his way through every darkspawn he sees. Ostagar flashes red behind his eyes. Lothering clutches at his heart. So much anger and sorrow built up inside him, flooding out in his tears and screams. Blood everywhere. Fire and smoke.

Then it's over.

In the aftermath of the Blight, like so many others, Carver has no home to return to. No family. He thinks to go back to Lothering to help rebuild, only to hear the lands were too tainted. These tainted creatures took everything from him... That's what eventually brings him to Vigil's Keep, standing before the Hero of Fereldan themself, asking to be made a Grey Warden. He already dedicated nearly two years of his life to killing darkspawn, and he had nothing else. Even when faced with the Joining, holding the chalice of darkspawn blood and being told to drink, he didn't flinch.

Life as a Grey Warden isn't as simple as he assumed it would be, but Carver finds purpose in his calling. Over the years, he grows to view his fellow wardens as family. He travels all over Thedas, venturing down into the Deep Roads to help clear out hoards of the darkspawn. But then comes the day he finds himself in Kirkwall, and it doesn't take long before he hears the name Hawke on the lips of the townspeople. His eldest sibling was not only alive, but they're quite popular among the people. But what about Mother? Bethany? He doesn't have to snoop too far to learn templars took Bethany away to the Gallows, and that Leandra Hawke was the final victim in a string of murders committed by a blood mage.

Carver finds himself standing outside the estate, glaring at the door. Furious. Heartbroken. Bitter. He wants to scream. This entire time, they lived. He's torn between wanting to reunite with his older sibling again, to get the truth from them, and wanting to barge into the estate, demanding answers to how they could let the Circle take Bethany... after what Carver sacrificed, how could they let Mother die like that? Was it all pointless in the end?

He leaves without knocking. He can't bring himself to see them. Not that it mattered. Before he could leave Kirkwall, the tensions with the qunari finally overflowed, and chaos fell upon the city. He's forced face to face with his older sibling again, but he wasn't prepared to watch the recognition slowly bloom on their face, or for all his anger to turn to mush. Carver's the first to speak.

"Somehow, I knew it would be you."

.............So, yeah. I really like this idea.

#da2 #dragon age 2 #bethany hawke #carver hawke #long post #there are so many routes you can take with this too like hawke finds out bethany's alive in fereldan's circle #and they gather all their companions like 'y'all we're doing a heist' 'great what are we stealing?' 'my sister'#'...isn't your sister dead?' 'APPARENTLY NOT'#or carver and anders could know each other from the wardens and one day anders tells hawke that they remind him of another warden he knew #and hawke is like '.............that little shit survived and he didn't tell me?? i'm telling mother'#OR both bethany and carver end up as wardens and happen to run into each other like '????? I thought you were dead?????'#and tbh bethany doesn't have to end up in the circle or carver with the wardens. that's just the paths i explored #maybe they're found by the warden and alistair who have wynne fix them up and they join the dao party #hell this could be backstory for an inquisitor carver or inquisitor bethany in dai #also yes this post is my way of saying that i love this idea but i'll probably never turn it into a fic so let me gush about it this way

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dootznbootz · 4 months

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Agamemnon and Odysseus are protective of Menelaus in different ways.

Agamemnon is the overprotective brother who is constantly looking out for Menelaus and will "set himself on fire to keep his brother warm" and will reprimand anyone who is mean to Menelaus and demand an apology.

Odysseus is protective in the "Menelaus is my favorite of favorite guys. He's the only other leader I genuinely LIKE and we have scheduled sleepovers in which we go cuddle and cry about how much we miss our families in a blanket fort. If you are mean to him, I'll show you just how fucking mean I can be. How DARE you make fun of his seal onesie?😡"

#Menelaus wears his seal onesie to the sleepover and Odysseus is in a goat one #Menelaus has a swan stuffed animal (idk what else. Hector is the horseboy) and Odysseus has a duck lksdjf FUCKING WEBKINZ OR SOME SHIT #ksldjf klsd #this is so fucking stupid but I love it #Some guy said something mean to Menelaus so he's sad and while Agamemnon is reprimanding him in 'legal' ways. Odysseus #just steals some of the guy's shit and fucks with his gear and 'nudges' him into mud. He makes it fucking personal.#Menelaus: 'I guess what goes around comes around.'#Odysseus: 'yuh-huh. definitely buddy. DEFINITELY THAT' *hiding all the shoelaces he cut up and some of the pretty things he took*#I love them 🥺 They are my Guys™#menody #idk what else to tag #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #my headcanons #the sweet boy and the shithead #AND THEY BOTH LOVE THEIR WIVES AND KIDS #waiting for proteus

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ridl · 7 months

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little critters docking with their funny little paws :)

#homeworld #homeworld cataclysm #homeworld emergence #just gonna tag both titles bc apparently for legal reasons the game can no longer be called cataclysm... weird shit aghsjdkasl #anyways time to play the last homeworld game. which is apparently a horror game kinda. fascinating. can't wait to find out why #i love my space critters #their paws are so cute and funny. they just whip those out when docking but ALSO when stealing enemy ships #that's fucking hilarious #just grabs you #game stuff

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didderd · 1 year

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Tac is a smooth mf GODDAMN🫣

Hehe. Yis. Got that Fell Sans rizz. :3

#flirty mf #i love himb #<333 #(rambles incoming)#he WILL steal ur girl/boy/nb #already tryna steal roo from her red lmao #'i'v got more rizz than this guy n ya know it'#lmao #doesn't have the same respect for other versions of himself that other fells do #(rly tho he's jus tryna start trouble n he finds it funny when a guy gets mad abt that shit #bc he doesn't care if his partner has another partner. n he might even be poly himself)#('i'm jus fukin with ya.. she can have us both. i don't mind~ *winks at roo*' *red gets even madder* (lmao))#tac fucks 's all i'm sayin #tac sans #undertale #didderd ocs #didderd asks #hearty-dose-of-ranch

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getvalentined · 7 months

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Thinking about Angeal in DFFOO apparently throwing himself in front of a sword to protect Sephiroth, even knowing that he's unrepentantly evil at that point and has no goal except to hurt people and fuck with Cloud, because he just cares about him so much—

But in CC, Angeal is only upset about Genesis' alleged death because he didn't manage to kill him before Zack did. Even though he's completely aware that Genesis is doing all this in an attempt to either 1. not literally rot to death, or 2. take the company down with him in recompense for ruining all their lives from conception.

The only point that he gets genuinely upset after Genesis "dies" is when Hollander calls Gillian by name. That is more upsetting to him than the death of someone who he's known basically since birth. The only issue with his oldest childhood friend being dead is that Angeal didn't get to kill him.

But Sephiroth, openly malicious, violent, abusive—he is worth defending. He's worth protecting. He deserves every possible chance to prove that he's better than he was made, even when he's stated outright that he made his choice and doesn't intend to change.

Absolutely mindboggling that so few people seem to realize the extreme difference in how he feels about them, even when it's on full display.

(Also, I feel like it's more proof for my theory that Angeal is in love with Sephiroth too and the reason he treated Genesis the way he did is because if he wasn't good enough, then Genesis certainly wasn't, and couldn't be allowed to think otherwise. I don't think this was intentionally malicious, but I think Angeal was actually extremely immature and so self-righteous he'd rather they all be miserable than see someone he loved find support from someone he found unworthy.)

#fandom vent #angeal critical #I'm not even talking shit about the character here mind you #this is what happens #this is the canon #this is how he ACTUALLY behaves IN GAME #he's brilliantly flawed #he's a WONDERFUL character #but fandom doesn't see that #do I think he cared about his friends? yeah #do I think he cared about the oldest one as much as fandom thinks he did?#absolutely the fuck not #you don't lament that you didn't get to kill your best friend #who was trying to SURVIVE #who TOLD YOU THE TRUTH when NO ONE ELSE DID #who ALLOWED YOU TO MAKE YOUR OWN DECISIONS #and then risk your own life defending your other friend #against people he has LITERALLY MURDERED #and he is TRYING TO MURDER AGAIN #FOR NO REASON OTHER THAN HIS OWN FUN #if you ACTUALLY LOVE BOTH OF YOUR FRIENDS EQUALLY #but fandom refuses to see that #there is so much about this character that could be explored #he could be brilliant #grey and greyer morality #facades of nobility covering up deep insecurity #he's SO well-written in-canon #but fandom goes 'oh he said he's good so he is'#YEAH HE ALSO SAID THAT STEALING FROM EVERYONE BUT HIS RICH FRIEND WAS HONORABLE #HE IS VERY VERY WRONG ABOUT MANY MANY THINGS

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