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#and then blue is musketeer uniforms
bantarleton · 7 months
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Who Wants a Non-Hessian German Troops of the American Revolution Uniform Identification Flow Chart?
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Now you too can roleplay as a harried British staff officer trying to identify which troops are encamped where, or a devious rebel spy collecting intelligence.
As folks may or may not know, only roughly 50% of the German state troops who served the British Crown during the American Revolution were “Hessians” from Hesse-Cassel. There were six other states that provided “subsidy troops.” Here’s how to tell them apart at a glance.
Are their uniforms predominantly dark blue? If yes, go to the paragraph numbered 4. If no, go to the para numbered 2.
2. Are their uniforms predominantly white? If no, go to the para numbered 3. If yes, those are troops from Anhalt-Zerbst. The only German state involved in the war to take its uniform and organisational cues from Austria rather than Prussia, the single Anhalt-Zerbst line regiment deployed to America wore white regimental coats faced with red. Their grenadiers wore bearskins rather than metal-faced caps (the only other German state to do this was Waldeck). One battalion also, according to one shocked British officer, had one of the most outrageous-looking uniforms of the war, including hussar hats, red and yellow waist sashes and red cloaks - these may have been “pandour” irregulars from the edges of the Austrian empire.
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3. The coats are neither white nor blue, so they must be red. In this case, the troops are Hanoverian. While still mostly following Prussian style, because they shared a ruler with Britain, Hanoverian troops wore red. Five Hanoverian regiments assisted Britain with vital Mediterranean defence during the American Revolution, before going on to fight in India. They were the only redcoat Germans fighting for the Crown outside the British Army.
4. Your Germans are wearing blue coats. Are the buttons on the coat lapels arranged 1-2-1, and do the cuffs have a “Swedish” style slit to them? If no, go to the para numbered 5. If yes, they’re from Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel. Brunswick provided the most soldiers after Hesse-Cassel, and arguably the most rounded force, with four line regiments, one dragoon regiment, one grenadier battalion and one light infantry battalion. But whether jäger, musketeers or grenadiers, they almost all had coat buttons in groups of 1-2-1 and the slit-style cuffs. Fun fact; the Brunswick crest of a racing white horse on a red field was the same as neighbouring Hanover’s.
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5. Your Germans are wearing blue, but don’t have buttons in 1-2-1 and Swedish cuffs. Do they have yellow facings, and cuffs with buttons placed both horizontally and vertically? If no, go to the para numbered 6. If yes, they are from Waldeck. This German state usually provided troops for the Dutch, but raised a new unit, the 3rd English-Waldeck Regiment, for service in America. They mostly fought against the Spanish in the Deep South, where they were decimated by disease. If the unusual position of the buttons on the cuff isn’t enough, look for the belt plate bearing “FF” for “Fuerst Friedrich,” the state’s ruler.
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6. Do your blue Germans have red facings, cocked hats and unusual lace on their coats, shaped like a figure-of-eight? If no, go to the para numbered 7. If yes, they’re from Hesse-Hanau. This state was closely related (in the sense of its ruler, literally) to Hesse-Cassel, yet remained independent. While it provided a small amount of artillery, jägers and freikorps light infantry, its main contribution was a single line regiment, Erbprinz. Their distinctive features were scalloped lace on their cocked hats and the figure-of-eight “Brandenburg” style lace. There was also a Hesse-Cassel Regiment Erbprinz (even sharing the same colonel-in-chief), but they were fusiliers with caps rather than the Hesse-Hanau musketeers with their cocked hats. Check the mistake made by this artwork - these are Hesse-Hanau soldiers from the Infanterie Regiment Erbprinz, but they’re wearing Cassel fusilier caps. Bonus fact; Hanau and Cassel’s crest both features a rampant lion with red and white stripes, but there are subtle differences - they face opposite directions, the style of stripes are slightly different, and the Hanau lion lacks the Cassel one’s crown, but does wield a sword.
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7. Do your blue-coated Germans have a black eagle on their flags and grenadier cap plates? If no, they’re probably from Hesse-Cassel. If yes, they’re from Ansbach-Bayreuth. This German state consisted of two provinces, Ansbach and Bayreuth (funny that). Besides jägers and some battalion guns, their main contribution was two infantry regiments, one from each of the two provinces. Their ruler’s crest was a black eagle, similar to the Prussian one.
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Of course these posts don’t account for the uniforms of the jäger corps, or musicians, or any artillery, but it can serve as a rough guide. For the proper detail, you’ll have to buy my forthcoming book on the topic!
Also would be pretty cool if someone made an actual flow chart out of this, just saying!
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wordsbymae · 1 month
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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord
With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!
TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue
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They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.
"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.
This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.
You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.
And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.
You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.
After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.
You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.
If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.
The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.
"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.
"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.
You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.
"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.
"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.
"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.
In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.
"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.
"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.
"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.
The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.
Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.
"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.
"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?
The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.
"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.
'Please still be the boy I knew before'
He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.
He turns to his men.
"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.
"No" you exclaim.
No, no, no, no, no
You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.
"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.
A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.
"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"
Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.
"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.
A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.
"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"
"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.
"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.
You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.
"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.
"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.
Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.
Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.
You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.
"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.
Red began to speak again.
"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.
"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.
"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.
"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.
'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.
"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."
In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.
"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.
You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.
"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"
"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.
Red halts, and turns to you.
"Don't make me hurt you again."
It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.
You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.
"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.
"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles
"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust
"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.
"I'm not a trophy" you grumble
"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."
You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.
He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.
"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."
It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.
' Red, sometimes I just wish...'
'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'
'Well I just wish he was dead!'
You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.
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I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.
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EAH was one of my very favorite cartoons as a kid, and I've been enjoying it's renaissance very much, so REDESIGNS!!! (I've done a bunch over a couple months and put them on Instagram, but I figured I'd move them here cause Instagram sucks, so if you've seen them before over there that's why)
I think the original designs are aesthetically pleasing, but they're not super practical for the characters- case in point! Gay icon Darling Charming
I'm gonna put all my design notes under the cut so if you don't care about that carry on, have a nice day
Darlings original design is fun, but it doesn't serve an obvious purpose, at least not that I can see. She clearly wears armor on the outside of her outfit, the Marie Antoinette poof is a bit strange to me, and she has very little visually tying her to Dexter and Daring. I wanted to emphasize her secrecy, but also her passion for puzzle solving, riddles, combat tactics, ect. when she's around the people she trusts (as if the queer metaphor wasn't obvious enough)
Here are some details that just make me happy
-First, the hair. I knew I wanted to give the White Knight a more unique look, and I wanted to simplify it overall. I LOVE the original armor, but it would be a huge pain to animate, and I don't have the patience for that, so I went for a masquerade-ball-three-musketeers-vibe. The braided bun is still a fancy, regal style, but it's a lot easier for her to manage in her uniform
-I tried to synthesize the color schemes of the Charming siblings. They all have a pit of yellow, a bit of pinkish red, a bit of blue. The twins lean heavy into yellow and blue, with splashes of red where thematically appropriate. Darling doesn't really communicate with Daring much, so she has the least amount of red. I think having more muted colors in comparison to her brothers also emphasizes the fact that she's hiding herself. She is very much defying her family with her ambitions, and she has to work hard to keep it under wraps. Sort of related, I gave her a tooth gap, because it's a cute design detail, but also to act as a "flaw" to contrast with Daring. Daring's primary physical trait is his ungodly perfect teeth, so I thought it'd be fun to give her an "imperfect" trait, like Dexter and his glasses. There's nothing actually wrong with them, but it's a failure to reach the insane expectations that the Charming family has cultivated over the generations. Basically the Charmings are petty and I feel bad for the youngest generation.
-Speaking of concealment! There are a couple bits that I thought would be fun to hide throughout her outfit. First, the skirt is flowy enough and the shirt is positioned just right so that you can't tell, but she has pieces of leather armor on at all times. She saves the plates for wonderland. She also wears gloves to hide the callouses on her fingers from swordfighting! She also probably keeps knives in her hair somewhere. Pulling a small switchblade out of the base of her bun just seems like something she would do
-Final thing, I gave her a scar! From what I can tell, she's always been very rough-and-tumble, so I gave her a scar over her brow. She likes to pretend it's from a Mysterious Incident to mess with her friends, but really she was wrestling Daring when they were like, 4 and 6, and she bonked her face into a table. She got over it real fast, but Daring got a long lecture about it, and that's when he started getting over-protective about her
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jedipoodoo · 4 months
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Merry-Go-Round of Life (Hunter x Fem!Reader Howl's Moving Castle AU)
Notes: inspired by @jbeansdraws's lovely art of Hunter as Howl, and also just Hunter's voice in general 😍😍😍😍*swoons*
Warnings: Reader gets hit on and is very uncomfortable, but Hunter steps in to help them out. Takes place in a steampunk-fantasy au. Discussions of eating someone's heart but it's only rumors.
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The streets were full for the king’s birthday. Though your little town was quite far from the capital, the people still had a strong sense of patriotism, as evidenced by the number of flags flying overhead. The little steam-powered hovering ships that had taken the country by a storm buzzed by, carrying even more pink and yellow flags like a sail. The soldiers in their smart red-and-blue uniforms paraded past in rows and rows, all sent to the southern border to patrol the wastelands, keeping watch for wizards like the Witch of the Waste and the Heart-Hunter.
You took to the back roads of town to avoid the parade and confetti. The marching band of the parade mixed in a horrible racket with the dance music in town square, and everything was much quieter in the back alleyways, even if you didn’t know them too well.
You glanced down at the scrap of paper with the directions your sister had sent you to the bakery she was working at. You still had to make your wall all the way around to the other side of the square, all while avoiding the crowds of people.
When you glanced up from your directions, you came nose-to chest with a shiny set of brass buckles on a soldier’s uniform coat. Unfortunately, that coat was being worn by a rather tall soldier with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a rather sharp bayonet attached to his musket
“Hey, looks like a little mouse lost its way,” The soldier said to his companion. 
“Oh no, I’m not lost,” You stammered out a little too quickly, crumpling your paper guide in your fist.
The soldier ignored the distress in your voice, “This little mouse looks thirsty, we should take her for a cup of tea,” He said, as if that were a generous offer rather than a virtual kidnapping.
“No thanks, my sister’s expecting me,” You tugged down on the brim of your hat to hide your face, but the soldiers mustached comrade bent down to get a good look at your face, and you jumped back in surprise.
“She’s pretty cute for a mouse,” The mustached soldier grinned. 
“How old are you?”
“You live around here?” They began pestering you with questions and you took a bigger step back this time.
“Leave me alone!” you begged. You never had been one for confidence. 
“You see? Your mustache scares all the girls,” The first soldier seemed to enjoy teasing not only you, but also his friend.
“So? She’s even cuter when she’s scared. Your chest twisted. You’d never been called cute before, and this certainly wasn’t a situation where you wanted to hear it.
Then, as soft as a fallen leaf, a hand settled gently on your shoulder.
“There you are sweetheart,” A soft, musical voice said. Unlike the unfamiliar, taunting voices of the soldiers, this one made you stand a bit taller, though you were still a little too frozen to be able to look up at your rescuer.
Was this person your rescuer? He could just be trying to get you away from the soldiers and have you all to himself, but you wouldn’t question his actions now.
“Sorry I’m late,” your rescuer continued gently, “I was looking everywhere for you.” there was a certain longing in his voice that you couldn’t quite understand, but you would figure that out later.
The first soldier’s face contorted into a scowl, “Hey, we’re kinda busy here?”
Your rescuer almost scoffed, “Are you really? It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving.”
He lifted a finger, and you gasped as the men jolted to attention, did an abrupt about-face, and marched down the alleyway where you’d come, protesting the whole way.
Now that you were alone with your rescuer, a wizard, no less, you hesitantly looked up at him.
His hair was long and dark, hiding a pair of sparkling earrings, and framing a face that was half-tattooed with a skull pattern.
The Heart-Hunter.
Your breath froze in your throat, but he offered you a gentle smile, close-lipped so you couldn’t tell if he really had those sharp teeth that the rumors said he did. You were alone now, he could easily rip out your heart and eat it in front of you, but he made no such attempt.
“Don’t hold it against them, they’re really not that bad. Now where to? I’ll be your escort this evening.” 
He offered you his arm, and you hesitated. People did this for your sister, not for you. But the Heart-Hunter of the Moving Castle wasn’t like most people, that much was obvious. 
“The- the bakery,” you said, still in a bit of shock. 
He nodded. When you made no move to take his arm, the Heart-Hunter briefly laced his fingers through yours, tucking them into his elbow.
“Do you have someone who’ll meet you there?”
“My sister.”
“Good.” He took off at a brisk pace, and you had to take two steps for every one he took to keep up.
“Now don’t be alarmed,” he whispered as he took you along, “I’m being followed. Act normal.”
You glanced around the alley, but you couldn’t see anything. The Heart-Hunter started off at a leisurely pace, like a romantic stroll through the park. But you could hear a hissing noise echoing through the alleyway. Not like a feral cat, but more like the steam being released from one of those newfangled engines. You managed to keep up with the Heart-Hunter as buildings began to breeze past you, dark gray blobs dripping out from the walls, resembling more of a gelatinous mix than something sentient, though they did wear little straw hats like the ones you made at your father’s hat shop.
Suddenly, there was a whole swarm of these creatures in front of you, and the Heart-Hunter took you in a sharp left turn as you gripped his arm tightly. You could hear them moving behind you, bumping into each other as their skinny little arms reached for the hem of your skirt. There were more waiting up ahead, but the Heart-Hunter just grinned, and wrapped his arm around your waist. 
“Hold on!” You wrapped both arms around his with a second’s warning, and The Heart Hunter leaped into the air with you, leaving all the jelly creatures struggling below. 
Now you were floating in the air above all the buildings of the town. You gasped at how far away the ground was, but no one seemed to notice you, too wrapped up in their celebrations.
The Heart-Hunter gently took your hands, slipping his fingers in between your clenched fists to hold your hands. 
“Now, straighten your legs, and start walking,” He said, as if he were simply teaching you a new recipe.
You stretched out one of your legs, as he demonstrated himself, taking one step, and then another. You were actually moving forward, even though there was nothing to balance on. You could see the crowds of people in the town square, waltzing to the omph-pah-pah of the band. 
Having seen your longing gaze, the Heart-Hunter extended one arm, still holding yours, leading you in a delicate spin. 
You laughed in a mix of nervousness and glee, and he chuckled.
“You are a natural,” He promised as you walked across the town square, and you smiled at the compliment. It really sounded like he meant it. 
“There! That’s the bakery,” you nodded your head towards the yellow building with black beams criss-crossing across the walls. As you came closer, your altitude lowered, and soon enough, the Heart-Hunter was standing on the railing of the balcony of the bakery’s second floor, lowering you onto solid ground.
You sighed, still feeling a little light-headed. This couldn’t be real. You were going to wake up in your room above the hat shop any moment now, ready to begin another boring day.
The Heart-Hunter squeezed your hand, “I’ll make sure to draw them off, but wait a bit before you head back outside.”
Oh right, the jelly monsters.
“Okay,” you said in a small voice.
The Heart-Hunter grinned at you, “That’s my girl.”
Butterflies swirled in your stomach at the tone in his voice, and the Heart-Hunter leapt backwards off the balcony. When you ran to the edge to see where he’d gone, he had vanished, like the last note of the waltz.
You were still standing there a moment later when your sister burst onto the balcony.
“Sissy! What’s going on?” She grasped your hands, they were colder than hers, “Someone said you just floated down onto our balcony!”
You bit your lip, “So that did happen. It wasn’t a dream,” You said slowly. 
Your sister pressed you for answers, and you told her the whole story as her eyes grew wider and her face grew paler.
“So he must have been a wizard then,” She gasped softly. 
You frowned, “But he was so kind to me, he rescued me.”
Your sister sighed. Given your differences in social lives, she knew more about the whims and cunnings of men than you did.
“Of course he did! He was trying to steal your heart! You know what the Heart-Hunter does to girls, he could have eaten it!”
“No he wouldn’t. You said firmly, clutching your skirts in your hands, “The Heart-Hunter only does that to beautiful girls.”
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For the 3000 celebration can you write one with Pietro Maximoff and prompt 25
Maybe it’s set at like Halloween and Pietro dresses up as a cowboy so the prompt makes sense
.⋆。Musketeer And The Cowboy。⋆.
Pietro Maximoff x plus size reader
Halloween brings out the worst in all of us
Warnings: implied smut, fluff, drinking, the Avengers being the Avengers
WC: 885
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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3000 Follower Celebration
Tony found any and all reasons to throw a party. Fourth of July, New Years, Thanksgiving, even fucking Arbour day got a celebration that included luxury foods and so much alcohol that even thinking about it gave you a hangover.
But by far his Halloween bashes were the most mind blowing. He went all out, even going so far as to turn part of the tower into a truly frightening haunted house. The halls were filled with hyper-realistic decorations and people with extravagant costumes.
You found it fun, it was pretty much like a kid’s party on steroids. You gorged yourself on candy while getting drunk with your favourite people in the world while you all pretended to be someone or something else, in the case of Clint’s famous candy corn costume, for the evening.
This year, you had a group costume with Wanda and Natasha: sexy three Musketeers. With a truly scandalous amount of skin showing beneath a corset, stockings, killer red heels, a frilly collar, huge hat and a fake sword, you truly felt the role. 
You and the girls strolled into the huge ballroom absolutely on top of the world. Immediately, Wanda was pulled away by Vision and onto the dance floor while Natasha made a b-line for the bar, leaving you with a red lipstick stain on your cheek and a wink. 
But you weren’t phased, instead you happily strolled over to the small gathering of some of the older Avengers, gunning for the flask Thor always carried at parties. “Good morrow sirs, perchance you have a nip of ale for me.” You laid the old English accent on thick as you planted yourself by Steve who was dressed as a zombie businessman. He rolled his eyes and handed you his spiked beer. 
“Thank you, my good man.” Thor (who was a playboy bunny this year) beamed at you. You sipped the stronger than normal beer and nodded at the rest of the men in the group. “We have some mixed effort here- Bucky looks like he gave up but Sam, you look great!” Sam, in a very elaborate Dracula 
costume, turned to Bucky, who wore Steve’s Captain America uniform.
“See! I told you that you looked stupid!” Bucky’s left eye twitched.
“No you told me that no one dresses up for Halloween anymore so I shouldn’t bother with a costume.” He grumbled, arms folding dangerously over his chest. You giggled and handed the beer back to your surrogate brother.
“Has anyone seen Pietro? He wanted to do the haunted house with me.” Steve shrugged.
“He wasn’t here when I got here but he may be trying to spar with Hulk, again.” You glanced over to where Tony (Patrick Bateman) and Bruce (Doctor Frankenstein) were drinking in a quiet corner with Peter (Han Solo), most likely chatting about their little science projects. But there was no silver-haired man with them.
“Hmm.” You hummed, resting a hand on the hilt of your fake blade. “I’ll go for a wander and see if I can find him. Oh and Bucky, the suit looks good on you.” Immediately, the super soldier perked up and a smirk crossed his face.
“Thank you.” He smugly responded while grinning at Sam who just rolled his eyes. Satisfied with the chaos you released about to unfold, you journeyed back into the crowd on the search for your boyfriend. 
There were cheerleaders, werewolves, some cheap Avengers costumes, but there was no speedster. After you passed what seemed to be the 20th Black Widow, a flash of silver caught your attention.
Pietro was leaning against a column just outside the party, his bright blue eyes fixed firmly on your generous curves. He was fully decked out in scuffed jeans held up by a thick belt with a gun holster, a leather vest with a red plaid shirt, an expensive pair of cowboy boots and a large Stetson in his hands. As he caught your eye, he flipped the hat perfectly onto his head while smoothly placing a fake cigarette between his teeth with his other hand.
“Well howdy there little lady.” He drawled with an awful attempt at a southern accent. 
“Hi there cowboy.” You purred, heels clacking on the expensive flooring as you approached. “I’ve never seen a cowboy without a lasso.” You gestured to his belt where an empty clip hung on his thigh. Pietro smirked deviously.
He grabbed you by the hips as you got close enough, tugging you into his chest. “I think you’ll find zat my lasso is somewhere more convenient.” His hands slipped down to your ass, grabbing the soft flesh beneath the tiny skirt you wore. He rolled his hips into your plush stomach, letting you feel his growing bulge.
“And where is that?” You played along, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his silver hair.
Pietro lowered his face to your ear, gently biting the lobe before whispering, “You vill have to play along to find out.” He then pulled away from your body. “Come, ve have much to do tonight.”
He took your hand in his own and pulled you into the hall. “It is time for a ride.” He winked, tipping his hat to you. You broke out in a wide smile.
God you loved Halloween.
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tallmadgeandtea · 10 months
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Turn Week 2023:
History Nerdery!
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Hello, and Happy Fourth of July! For today's Turn Week, I wanted to talk about Benjamin's regiment in the Continental Army. We all know he's a Connecticut Dragoon, but what does that mean and what did they do, exactly? I'm going to let you know! The Continental Cavalry is my favorite unit in the army, and I actually did an Honors Research Project on them last year for my college. WARNING: this is going to be LONG. I'm sorry. Kind of.
What is the Continental Cavalry?
The cavalry is the mounted troops in a military force, meaning they fight on horseback. At the time of the Revolution, the cavalry was considered an elite and necessary force for a proper military. Combat on horseback was dangerous- you not only had to avoid cannon and gunfire, but you had to attack other mounted troops with lances and sabers of their own.
There are two types of cavalry: light cavalry and heavy cavalry. The light cavalry had three primary duties. Scouting, which was to patrol enemy forces, movements, and the terrain surrounding camps and battlefields, which also played into reconnaissance. They also served as messengers to officers on and off the battlefield. On the other hand, heavy cavalry was troops used in action. Their objective was to lead charges and weaken the enemy’s unmounted troops, like going after their flanks. They also performed raids/ambushes or small skirmishes against the enemy. Their combat was on and off the battlefield.
Due to the near constant lack of funds for the Continentals, their Dragoons performed both light and heavy cavalry roles. A dragoon/trooper is a soldier who fights either on horseback or on foot, depending on the amount of horse available. They used weapons such as: a cavalry saber, a shortgun, and a musket.
Unlike the British army, which brought over cavalry forces, at the beginning of the war, there was not an official cavalry for the Continentals. Some state and organized militias had mounted troops- such as the Philadelphia Light Horse- but professional, commissioned troops had not seen action.
After seeing the performance of the British cavalry during the New York Campaign, General George Washington realized his army needed horses of their own. Writing to Congress in late 1776, “From the Experience I have had in this Campaign… I am Convinced there is no carrying on the War without them.”
What made up the Continental Cavalry?
In 1777, the cavalry's first year in action, there were four regiments of Light Dragoons.
The 1st Regiment of Dragoons- from Virginia, also known as Bland's Light Horse. Their uniforms were originally the "classic" Continental coat: blue with red facings, but they then changed the standard to brown with green facings.
The 2nd Regiment, also known as the Connecticut Light Dragoons, Colonel Elisha Sheldon and Benjamin Tallmadge's force, mustered from Connecticut, hence the name. Their uniform was blue with buff facings.
The 3rd Regiment, aka Colonel Baylor's or Lady Washington's Light Horse, in honor of Martha Washington. Their uniform was white with blue facings (one of my favorite uniforms in the army.)
And the 4th Regiment, led by Colonel Stephen Moylan. His troops originally wore red! coats, and this lead to some incidents of friendly fire. At Washington's order, the regiment changed to green with red facings.
How does this relate to Turn: Benjamin Tallmadge and His Dragoons.
Although the show does not get into heavy detail about Benjamin Tallmadge's battle experience, we know what battles he was present at with his regiment.
1777 the cavalry's first years as professional troops in battle. Both had very... different outcomes, let's say. Both were also mentioned or briefly shown in season 2 of Turn, and my research focused on this.
During the Campaigns, a set of troops from each regiment of Dragoons was stationed with General Washington in Pennsylvania, led by Bland, Moylan, Baylor, Sheldon, and Tallmadge.
Benjamin Tallmadge and his soldiers were present at both the Battles of Brandywine and Germantown.
At Brandywine, Washington first used the dragoons for only scouting, not combat. But as the British went after his insecure right flank, he frantically sent units of soldiers and cavalry to prevent the British from getting to the road along and to Brandywine Creek. The cavalry also acted as messengers to officers during this battle, but insufficient preparation and speed led to delayed reports. The cavalry did lead a charge that allowed Washington to retreat, but the day was lost. Afterwards, the British marched into the Continental capital of Philadelphia.
After Brandywine, Washington needed another battle to try and take back Philadelphia. With a night march, he decided to attack the British near their camp in Germantown, Pennsylvania, a small village outside the city.
Washington had four columns, 2 made up of Continental forces and two of state militias. Just as at Brandywine, his right wing was commanded by Sullivan, and his left by Greene. The Dragoons were now under their newly commissioned commander, General Pulaski. Tallmadge stated in his memoirs that, “if every division of the army had performed its allotted part, it seems as if we must have succeeded.”
Unfortunately, this would not be the outcome at Germantown. At the beginning of the battle, the Continentals were winning. Part of the camp was captured. A heavy fog and rain set over the battlefield, and the British used this fog to their advantage. They retreated into a local country house and created a stalemate.
Benjamin Tallmadge and his dragoons were first stationed with Sullivan’s division, close upon “the scene of the action.” As the battle turned against the Continental forces and the troops became victim to enemy and friendly fire, Washington ordered him to use his 2nd Dragoons to block any further retreat, to no avail. Germantown was lost.
Germantown was the last official engagement of the Philadelphia campaign. But on June 28, 1778, the Continental Army and the Cavalry engaged the forces at the Battle of Monmouth in New Jersey. Due to proper military training thanks to the Inspector General Baron von Steuben and six months of waiting at Valley Forge, the army emerged as a proper fighting force and prevailed against the British. The victory allowed the Continentals to take back their capital and keep Washington in as Commander in Chief.
Monmouth is the shown in the finale of season 2- Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot- with Benjamin leading his dragoons into the battle.
After the 1777 campaigns, Tallmadge and his dragoons would stay up north, particularly New York, to patrol and engage the enemy in raids. They also participated in the Battles of Stony Point and Fort St. George, which were shown in seasons 3 and 4 of Turn.
Sources (and further reading):
Memoir of Col. Benjamin Tallmadge : Tallmadge, Benjamin, 1754-1835 : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive
Brandywine: A Military History of the Battle that Lost Philadelphia but Saved America, September 11, 1777 by Michael C. Harris, Paperback | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)
Germantown: A Military History of the Battle for Philadelphia, October 4, 1777 by Michael C. Harris, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)
Cavalry of the American Revolution - Jim Piecuch - Westholme Publishing
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ddagent · 2 months
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Next Fic
So, my previous fic poll ended in a draw, so let's have another go! A few different options, this time, with some supporting evidence for each to help you make your decision!
May I present the poll:
And the supporting evidence!
Option 1:
"Uh, boss, your friend is here."
Detective Anthony Crowley looked up from his notebook and turned his golden gaze back to the crime scene tape a few feet away. Behind the white and blue tape, highlighted by the flashing lights of the police cars, was Reverend Aziraphale Fell. Clerical collar, sunny disposition, and two takeaway cups in his hand. One of those was six espresso; one was hot cocoa. Ridiculous man. Snarling, Crowley shoved his notebook into the back pocket of his trousers and stomped through sand to shoo Aziraphale back to his church.
"You can't be here."
"But—" Aziraphale began, a pout forming on those perfect lips. "—I can help. I was ever so good before—"
"—we were nine, Aziraphale. We're not making up mysteries and legging it in and out of caravans and arcades anymore." Which was a pity. The mysteries Aziraphale always dreamt up for them as children were less brutal than the one that currently laid before him. Huffing out a sigh, Crowley took the proffered coffee and gestured for a uniformed officer, Constable Honey, to escort the vicar out. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I'll see you on Sunday, yeah?"
"We'll see each other before then, no doubt." Sure, sure. "When you realise you do need my help."
Option 2:
Swiveling his hips, Crowley slid through the open bathroom window of AZ Fell and Co. Even though the bookshop had been broken into three times now, the proprietor, one Aziraphale Fell, still had no sense of security. No locks on the window, no alarms, no cute dogs that Crowley would have to pet and stroke in order to disarm. No, Crowley was free to move around the shop as he pleased. Maybe it was because Crowley had never actually stolen anything that Aziraphale felt safe.
Bah. Crowley didn't want him to feel safe. He wanted him to feel scared. Crowley could do anything here. Anything.
Slipping into the living room, Crowley noted that Aziraphale had fallen asleep on the sofa again. A threadbare blanket was pooled at his feet; a copy of some eighteenth century novel had fallen to the floor. Moving deftly, Crowley adjusted the blanket, placed the book upon the table, and tipped out Aziraphale's hot chocolate. There. Mental insecurity. Aziraphale would know that someone had been in there. Someone who could do anything.
As it was, Crowley committed the most heinous act of all: he left a rare book upon Aziraphale's coffee table, a product of his earlier activities. Gabriel Archer, that twat, wouldn't miss it. And it would certainly give the bookshop's profits a major boost.
Option 3:
"Excuse me, I was wondering whether you had a VHS copy of The Eastern Gate?"
From behind the counter, Crowley didn't even bother turning around to address his customer, so ridiculous was his request. Yes, Crowley had a copy of The Eastern Gate: it was one of Aziraphale Fell's early works, a black and white film focusing on an angel overseeing Eden. It had been very well-received at the time but public interest quickly waned. For years it spent time on BBC 2 on Sunday afternoons - that was where Crowley's copy came from, recorded with great care and attention onto VHS.
He had one copy. And it was not for sale.
The customer cleared his throat. "Dear boy, I do wonder if you could—"
"—in a minute. This is the best part." The Bastille had come out in the 90s, part of the interest in musketeers and the French revolution. Aziraphale looked delectable in the heavy iron chains and all those pretty frills. Just gorgeous. But, with great reluctance, Crowley pressed pause and turned to 'attend' to the customer who wanted the impossible, even in Crowley's memorabilia shop. "Listen—"
But Crowley didn't say another word. Because his customer wasn't just interested in Aziraphale Fell. He was Aziraphale Fell.
Option 4:
"Crowley, can I ask you a question about Twitter?"
Crowley immediately zoned back into the room. He had been fixated on the slight tinge of silver and white at the temples of Aziraphale's blond hair; the curve of his mouth as he indulged in dessert at The Ritz. For some time, Aziraphale had been discussing his latest project: a gripping drama for ITV featuring a gay romance between two childhood friends. It was the sort of project that Aziraphale did often - but this time he had been paired opposite BAFTA winning actor Raphael Archer.
Not that Crowley was jealous or anything. He hadn't campaigned for the role. Hadn't sent an audition tape and told he wouldn't be believable starring opposite Aziraphale in a romantic role. As if he hadn't spent thirty years yearning for this man. Oh, they had played detectives together, odd-couple roles, best friends. But never romantic leads.
And the first time a project came up that was perfect, Crowley lost to Raphael Archer. That Scottish twat. Breathe, Crowley. "What about Twitter, Angel?"
"I don't use it." No kidding. "But Raph does." Oh, Raph is it? "And a lot of his followers have started using a hashtag. Something #raphaphale?"
Crowley's glass immediately shattered. Thirty years as Aziraphale's shadow and this Scottish wanker gets a ship tag?
Option 5:
He was here again. Sitting in the front row with his delicately pressed tan trousers, neat little waistcoat with the gold buttons, and the delicate puff of blond curls. In his lap (which Crowley noted, not for the first time, was rather spacious) was his paddle, with the number 666 printed in red lettering. Since the man had started attending the auctions at Eden's Auction House, Crowley'd had fantasies about that paddle.
How the hell was he going to make it through today's auction?
Still, Crowley was a professional (allegedly). So, he took to the podium, gavel in hand, and addressed the crowd. "Lot number one is a collection of Austen, incredibly preserved from the period, featuring four books - including Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion." He swallowed a number of sarcastic remarks, bit back his need to share the crackpot biography he'd read about diamond heists and whisky smuggling. Not the crowd. Never the crowd. "Shall we start the bidding at fifteen hundred?"
The man was the first to take the bid. As it was accepted, he wiggled happily in his chair. Oh, Crowley was gone.
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hoshinoyozora · 1 year
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The Lady and Her Musketeer
🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Deuce Spade x Female! Reader
💛 Word Count: 1,4k+
❤ Warnings: -
[Edited]
Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!
***
Deuce’s masquerade clothes reminds me of a musketeer ngl, so sorry if there’s some mistake! I’ve never written a musketeer before, but this idea is too good to pass up.
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It was a one-time mistake.
A moment of negligence, fooled by the darkness that you thought would cover you well from the dangers lurking nearby. It wasn’t a baseless assumption, for you’d gone home from waitressing every night without any harm so far. But Lady Luck couldn’t favor one person eternally, and under the silent yet pitying shine of the moon, a thug intercepted you in an alleyway.
Panic set your mind to a frenzy, and you feared he’d use the momentary opportunity to cut you with his knife if you screamed. Yet Lady Luck wasn’t entirely heartless, it seemed, for a sword suddenly stabbed his stomach from behind. The thug coughed and choked, dribbling blood from his chapped lips. He soon collapsed the moment the sword withdrew and lay in a pool of crimson.
Looking up, you saw your savior was an average-height man with fierce cyan eyes and navy hair as dark as the sky above. He wore a black and blue musketeer uniform trimmed with gold. His chest was checkered, while his hat was decorated with a playing cards pattern. His sword, once a cold hard silver, now angry wet red. He was a picture of chivalry and justice, until he met your eyes and was reduced to an earnest yet a bashful boy.
“A-are you alright?”
The sudden transformation warmed your chest that once hammered from alarm, and you found yourself smiling half bemused half grateful.
“Yes, thank you. You’re my hero.”
The title flushed his cheeks, and he immediately turned his head and coughed.
“It’s nothing. I was merely doing my duty to protect the kingdom and its people.”
“And you’ve done well.” said you. “May I know the name of my hero?”
“I-It’s Deuce. Deuce Spade.”
“That’s a nice name.”
His cheeks glowed brighter.
“What about you?”
“[Name] [Last Name].”
“It’s… it’s a beautiful name too!”
You beamed at the compliment, while Deuce coughed again. He extended his hand.
“So, shall I accompany you to your house?”
You stepped forward and interlinked your arm with his.
“You shall.”
Perhaps it was due to you being older, you couldn’t help but consider Deuce as the younger brother you never had. Every day he visited the restaurant you worked on, and on days where he was particularly busy, he’d still come either late at night or early in the morning and left a tip bigger than you usually received. His kindness even extended to him always accompanying you home, and while you appreciated it, you worried about whether he overexerted himself when it came to you. But Deuce dismissed it with a careless statement of him liking to help you. This favoritism didn’t go unnoticed by your coworkers and boss, most of whom teased you relentlessly. Your boss – a quiet, perceptive old man – excluded himself from the banter and warned you.
“Ensure that you assert your boundaries, [Name], or else he might just assume you need his help and protection even in the safest places.”
As foretold, Deuce started to encounter you outside of your workplace. On the streets, in the market, and even in the public park. Your worry for his well-being now redirected its course to you, who eventually stopped him when he appeared in your house uninvited with a bouquet one day.
“But why?” he asked. “I thought you appreciate my help.”
“I do, but this is going too far. You’re not my personal knight, Deuce. There’s no need for you to care so much about me.”
“But you are precious to me!”
Deuce panted from his passionate declaration, while you were left stunned. It was when you realized this confrontation was still happening on your doorstep, and fearing unwanted attention, you quickly ushered him inside.
“Since when have you been harboring feelings for me?”
With that musketeer uniform, Deuce stood like a sore thumb in your humble house. Still, his attitude around you very much resembled any shy kid around your neighborhood.
“I’m so sorry for shocking you! I was planning to confess to you today but–”
“Deuce, answer my question.”
He sighed, “Truthfully, I don’t know when or how. Ever since I saved you in that alleyway, I began to fear for your safety. What if someone harms you when I’m away? What if you die without my knowledge? So, perhaps that concern eventually bloomed into… love.”
Blushing, Deuce bowed his head. You followed his gaze to the rose bouquet in his hands, and your mind unhelpfully deduced its romantic meaning.
“Forgive me, Deuce, but I don’t see you in that way.”
His gloved hand stopped fiddling with the red petals.
“… Why? Is it because you’re older than me?”
Your eyes widened. How did he know that? Did your coworkers tell him about your age? Maybe they didn’t. He was a musketeer, after all, and you didn’t doubt his vast network of information.
“I know you might equate ‘young’ to ‘immaturity’, but I’m far from it. I swear! My mother can attest to that. At least, I hope she sees me that way.”
You didn’t hear his muttering on the last part and were more focused on how to convince him to stop pursuing you and leave your house for good.
“I’m so sorry, Deuce. Truly. But nothing can change my mind. We can still be friends, if you’d like.”
The hopeful gleam vanished from his eyes, and what replaced it was fleeting darkness that sent chills down your spine. Then, he blinked and his eyes returned to their normal piercing cyan.
“O-of course, I understand.”
Deuce excused himself, bringing along the vibrant bouquet that contrasted with his sadness. You lamented his tacit rejection of your friendship offer and shook your head, opting to rest for now.
It was better this way, you thought, for Deuce deserved a woman who would love him out of sincerity rather than pity.
***
There was a chill in the air; the kind that forebode danger.
Your hair bristled, and you cursed yourself for neglecting to wear a coat this morning. The streets seemed deserted at night, and although the job paid you well, you began to dislike how late you went home every day. For once, Deuce didn’t come to the restaurant and your coworkers instantly crowded around you for an interrogation. Still, you persisted in your lie that you didn’t know where he was. They were skeptical, of course, but your boss came to the rescue and ordered them to return to work. You thanked him, and it only occurred to you how unsafe you felt without Deuce’s security once you stepped out of the restaurant.
Regardless, you persevered for you hated to depend on him too much. What if he mistook it as you conceded to his constant surveillance? It was enough that you dismissed your boss’s warning once. You didn’t want a repeat and suffer a worse scenario.
Yet, the worse just had to happen.
A large, gloved hand clamped your mouth from behind and dragged you to a nearby alleyway. Your scream was muffled, but you heard the perpetrator talking to another person. Two men, and you, a woman without a single fighting skill, were overpowered. Your tearful eyes stared longingly at the shining exit ahead of you, so far yet so near, hoping for anyone to save you.
You thought it didn’t matter if Deuce were to rescue you again, but a blunt force hit you on the head before you could pray for his arrival and knocked you unconscious.
For a split second, you expected to wake up in a dark and dingy place. Perhaps a shack in the middle of the woods, or a storage room. And dark and dingy it was, yet the pool on your feet was certainly out of your prediction. The stench was metallic, and when you looked up, you could make out the silhouette of a hand lying on the floor.
A severed hand.
Was this a torture room? Were you about to be tortured? For information, or pure sadism?
“I’m sorry…” Someone whispered behind you, and you felt them untie the ropes on your wrists. “… was about to save you… but too late…”
Your body slumped forward, still too dazed to react.
“… Saw them drag you away… I followed…”
A pair of arms propped you up to a heaving, warm body.
“… Got angry and… all died…”
You glanced up. Piercing cyan eyes greeted you.
“I’m sorry. I can’t stay away from you.”
You succumbed to another dreamless sleep, and this time, you woke up somewhere worse than that dark and dingy room.
For Deuce’s bedroom was comparable to a torture room, indeed. Silk bounded your wrists to the bedposts, and his treatment, although lacking in harshness typical of kidnappers, still retained the ignorance of his vice.
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James Norrington x male pirate reader? Maybe the pirate got caught by James, heading to the gallows, but James free them instead?
Hello dear, thanks for your request.
James Norrington x male pirate reader 🏴‍☠️⚔ A matter of time⚓
Synopsis: James frees someone from his past from the gallows
Warning: mention's of hanging
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The prison of Port Royal was rustic and unkempt; all the cells were lined in an orderly set of rows. Many men within the cells screamed and cursed names that shan’t have been brought to light. The officers at the entrance door wore red regimental coats and white shirts. Over the shirts were cross belts and grey breeches held by braces. They both wore black naval tricorne hats whilst their long hair was tied back with black ribbons. They held their Brown Bess muskets upright, gazing at a man formerly walking down the hall. The man wore a blue, full-skirted royal naval uniform made of wool fitted with very deep boot cuffs. He wore a white powdered wig with a black tricorn adorned with white feathers around the top. He held his hands behind his back, looking stern yet pristine, ignoring the prisoner's squabbles. The two lower-ranked officers saluted him, allowing him passage. He kept walking past all the cells while the prisoners shouted, “Oi, get’s me outta ere’!”, “Aye, I’m beggin ya”, “Lad, Lad, I’ll give ye three shillings fer tha keys”. He scowled at the sight of them, ‘good-for-nothing filthy pirates’ he thought. Scoundrels that held no honour or morals did all they did was steal, pillage, plunder, and commit the most treasonous crimes. His hatred for pirates stemmed from his childhood, ever since his father taught him. He despises any mentions of their names; to think anyone foolish enough to become one deserves a short drop and sudden stop.
The commodore halted in front of a particular cell, his eyes gazing coldly at the pirate seated in the corner. “I trust you’ve saved your prayers, for you shall hang at the gallows on this day”, he spoke with a deep, strict voice. The pirate in question was relatively quiet, unlike the others, he held no regard to acknowledge the commodore's presence. He was quite an untidy fellow, his hair in a mess, wearing a brown tricorn clothed with a brown frock coat and poet blouse. He wore black pantaloons and brown boots for shoes. The commodore had no care if the buccaneer wished to speak or act like a rapscallion. He was set to hang. “Do keep you’re your spirits high Mr L/n, I do believe your worthless life might just end quicker after all”.
The pirate, in turn, glanced up at the austere man with cold eyes. It seemed unfounded how a man had a deep detestation over one's life because they deemed themselves pirates. Had he known what true freedom was, one might say he would turn too. “Aye, keep yer knickers on, I know tis be me day of death, least I get ta visit fiddlers green in the afterlife”. James sternly spoke, “I believe where you’ll wind up, they’ll be no ‘fiddlers green’ but only your sinful damnation”.
The commodore ordered the naval officers to drag this scoundrel to the gallows. “Before ye send me ter me grave in Davy Jones’s locker, I ask why ye betrayed em’ commodore”. The statement in general, made James curious and halted the officers from opening the cell. “And what business do you wish to pry of mine, Mr L/n”.
“Cutler be at large, and ye stand thar a prideful man tha betrayed sparrah’s crew, hell, ye betrayed er—”.
“Whatever nosy rumours you’ve heard of is none of your concern.” The commodore furrowed his brows as his voice grew harsher.
“Aye but tis is, fer I recall a lass and lad back on that island searching fer a coffer” The pirate’s voice grew louder. “Why, don’t-che remember James, I was thar when ye ran wit tha chest, I saw ye leave Jack, Will and Miss Swann”.
“Don’t!” James growled.
“Yer guilty, tis written in yer deadlights”. It was impossible to reason; the pirate was a part of Jack’s crew and had pledged his loyalty to the captain. However, it all changed when the commodore came along, looking like a lost sod. He was a mess in a heap; his rank had become soiled. How could y/n not care for him? He was lost at sea in his state of well-being, drunk. Over time the two had formed a kindred relationship; they both bonded over the loss of their adventures and their devotion to their loved ones—James with Elizabeth and Y/n with Jack. Everything was going well when James betrayed the crew and turned y/n in. Left and set to hang for dead.
Albeit twas y/n’s fault for falling into such a bittersweet lie. Indeed, y/n cared for the commodore more than he should have. Oh alas, and ruin, a man’s yearning heart set on the beating beauty for a lass he is not.
James inhaled and quickly exhaled, displaying a sign of annoyance. He ordered the guards to open the cell and drag y/n out. With both on each side with one arm latched roughly around y/n’s, they began to head toward the gallows—or what should’ve been that way.
Upon exiting the building, the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops could be heard around Y/N. The individual took a moment to inhale the refreshing scent of the precipitation, relishing in its natural aroma. The droplets cascaded down from the sky, creating a stunning display as they contacted the pavement and pooled into small puddles. Y/N couldn't help but feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to stand in place and bask in the mesmerising allure of the rain. As they moved, he savoured every moment of his freedom, relishing every breath of air inhaled and exhaled. Closing his eyes, he felt the raindrops caress his cheeks, cascading gently down his face. As the naval officers led him to the gallows, Y/n took in his surroundings with a sense of calm. His last breath left him, and he opened his eyes to the sight of the rolling sea, gently lapping against the docks of the bustling port. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing to his ears, and he imagined himself on a grand galleon, sailing towards the mythical Fiddler's Green with the wind in his hair. The view of the vast horizon was breathtaking, and he took it all in as he walked towards his destination. Every adventure he had flashed before his eyes, Jack Sparrow, Joshamee Gibbs, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner and—
James.
Suddenly, the naval officers stopped and pushed the rogue before them. Y/n opened his eyes, feeling disoriented by the new surroundings. He expected to see the gallows and an angry crowd chanting his name in hatred, but instead, he found himself somewhere else, without the Hempen Holter.
They stood by the wooden dock where a schooner was anchored. All the sailors were carrying cargo onboard. As Y/n swivelled around, they were met with a rather grave countenance on James' face. His hands were firmly clasped at his back, and his brows were knitted together in a manner that suggested deep concern. Y/n, perplexed by his demeanour, approached the admiral's chains that were still attached to their wrists and legs. "Care ta enlighten me, James? Are ye tryna hornswoggle me mind?” y/n asked. The admiral swiftly ordered the naval officers to be dismissed, leaving the two of them alone. James drew closer to Y/n and removed the chains from their arms and legs, freeing them from their constraints. Y/n exaggeratedly stretched his arms while moving his arms from side to side. “I must admit, yer surely an odd one James”.
James grasped y/n by his shoulders and revealed his true expression of genuine worry. “Quickly, you don’t have much time, get on while you can—I don’t expect you or Elizabeth to forgive me but I can at least atone for my sins by saving you”.
As Y/n fixed his gaze upon the magnificent schooner, his eyes were brimming with a sense of purpose and longing. "Come with me, together we can break free from our current constraints an’ embark upon a new path," he suggested with a hopeful tone, inviting his companion to take the leap of faith with him. “Our paths may intertwine in the future y/n, but I mustn’t let Beckett know of Elizabeth’s whereabouts—neither your own.
"Go, now” "Please understand," he stated firmly, his expression stern and unwavering. In a sudden surge of emotion, James took hold of the pirate's shoulders and pressed his lips against his with an intense force, leaving them both gasping for breath. Y/n found themselves wrapped up in James's embrace, feeling the softness of his admiral's coat against their skin. "Tif fate allows us to reunite in Fiddler's Green, each and every treasure chest will bear your name, and I shall cherish em’ with all me heart."
As Y/n stepped onto the ship, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness in his heart as he left James behind. They hurriedly made their way through onto the ship as they prepared to set sail. Meanwhile, James watched from a distance, his eyes locked on Y/n's retreating form, his hands clasping behind him, wishing desperately that Y/n could stay with him just a little bit longer. The helmsman shouted, “Prepare to set sail”. With one last look, y/n locked eyes with James and nodded as a departing gesture. “Aye, cap’n!” y/n shouted to the helmsman.
With a heavy heart, James gazed upon the ship as it slowly drifted away from the harbour, carrying away the one person who had captured his heart completely - y/n. As he watched the vessel shrink in the distance, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of worry and fear creeping up on him. He prayed fervently, hoping that his beloved would reach his destination safely and unharmed and that he would be able to find a new life filled with hope and happiness. Despite his own pain and despair, James knew that he had to remain strong and focused, no matter what challenges he might face.
Anyways that's all I have for now:
Ta Ta ✨
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skyflyinginaction · 2 months
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Shin Megami Tensei IV FINAL Official Setting + Shinwa Sekai he no Tabi translations 
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I don’t own the raw scans or the translations in this post all credit for the translation belongs to Miel who did a wonderful job on it. The Nanashi bio was already translated by Dijeh and the rest are translated by them.
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Asahi
In the early scenarios, she was supposed to be a tomboyish character who often used foul language. As you can see, she ended up the complete opposite (lol). Asahi was designed as a child whose parents had lovingly raised, and had her life planned out for her to survive in this destroyed world. They were hoping that she would one day be able to see the light of dawn, hence she was named Asahi. We based her design off themes of the sky, hence the goggles, hat and the blue color scheme to make a pure, orthodox heroine.
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Navarre
A harmonious, all-green presence… Actually I just came up with that after (lol). But I think the meaning of Navarre's scarf color was shown pretty well in the game. His ghost form and the fact that he would be a partner was decided from the very beginning. I wanted him to be able to run around the map following the MC, so I suggested a mascot-like design that could float alongside the MC. I'm glad he was able to re-appear as a likeable character (lol).
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Nozomi
In the previous game, she was an event character with only pixel art, but in this game, we decided from the very beginning that she would be a partner along with Navarre. We tried to keep the same imagery she had from the previous game but designed elements unique to this game. After she became one with Danu, I wanted a change in both mind and body. Her hair and eye color, as well as her physique are all mixed with Western features, and when compared to the main characters who are all children, she looks like a mature adult lady.
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Hallelujah
We had planned to create a mixed-race child who would show what kind of world setting it was in this game. His brown-colored skin was the only thing that still remained of his initial draft; every thing else about him was totally changed from the initial planned scenario. We gave him a Ashura-kai styled outfit, as well as a school jersey to make him look like a child delinquent. The pointy ears and black nails were to give him a demonic feel. When he transforms, he changes color, and I think it perfectly represents the devs’ ideal image of him.
Chironnupu
When Chironnupu was created as a demon, I was requested to make him a mascot-like character. They did not want a standard cutesy character, but rather something that had a “Megami Tensei" type of cuteness. There are very few legends about the Chironnupu, so I got ideas from keywords such as Ainu, fox, divine spirits, and hunting, and instead of simply drawing a fox, I made him a young spirit that wears a carved wooden mask.
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Gaston
When I first heard that Navarre’s younger brother was going to be in the game, I laughed… and I was very surprised. Of course they must have the same hairstyle and facial expressions to live up to the family name (lol). Since he is an elite member of the newly established Samurai group, I put his Samurai uniform over his inner wear, so that he looked like a medieval musketeer but set in modern day. The cross symbol represents God and the four archangels. Michael's spear was originally meant to defeat Lucifer, so I based its design off Lucifer’s motif.
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Toki
Out of all the characters, this character had the most changes and was the most difficult to design. In the early designs, she was made to look like a miko (TN: shrine maiden) who served Lilith, so I wanted her design to emphasize her young age when compared to Asahi and Nozomi. That design later evolved into a tall, ephemeral type of girl, and then later, finally settled into the design of an assassin. She’s designed as a member of the Ring of Gaea, and her unmasked face has the cuteness of a Japanese doll but also a beauty that exudes an exoticism. 
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Nikkari
This is a character that appears right at the beginning of the game, but we did not originally plan to have an illustration for him. However, there was a request for a illustration to show the worldview of this hunter from Tokyo, and how the world and the people he cared for were being overrun by demons. Thus we created illustrations for the 3 of them: Nikkari, Manabu, and Master. The name Nikkari is based off a famous sword, but you’ll just have to find out whether or not his sword is the real deal by playing the game.
Manabu
As a more senior hunter, he has become a unique character. Like Nikkari, we had initially only planned to have pixel art for him, so we made sure to exaggerate that reggae-like feel to convey his love for reggae, even if it's a tiny pixel art. Compared to veteran hunters, he didn't have much experience yet, so we designed him to still look a little naive. Having designs for the sub-characters was not initially planned, so I only had a short amount of time to design them, but I was able to take a breather and had fun while drawing them.
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Master
When I was making drafts of his design, I borrowed the design of the adult form of the protagonist (lol). Since the character is a former hunter of an inhabitable society and a master of the company, I gave him unshaven stubble and thick arm hair to give him that rugged feel, but also gave him the outfit of a bar waiter to give him a sense of tidiness. Anyway, it feels like a strange coincidence that the pilot-style outfit worn by the original adult protagonist ended up being worn by Asahi instead. I wanted to see how well he would do.
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Swordsman Hunter
During the idea stage, there were many variations for a non-human hunter. This is a lightly armored female hunter whose main weapon is a sword. Her personality also seems outgoing.
Professor Matsuda
This was the initial idea draft for Matsuda. Back then he was planned to be a NPC that you can speak to but didn’t have a character portrait. His facial expressions can’t be seen clearly from the small portrait, but you can see his hunched-back posture.
Elite Hunter
An elite hunter who has a high rank and is well-dressed. It's the type you don't see very often in the underground world of Tokyo, but it seems there’s actually some hunters who are living a privileged life out there.
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Punk Hunter
A female hunter that catches the eye with her standing hair and studded clothes. Strong female hunters who live by fighting with demons are all cool-looking. The same goes for Nozomi. It’s no wonder Asahi admires them.
Child Hunter
The boy with the spear is an NPC you can talk to. During the designing stage he was made to be a little child hunter but the final version of the NPC seems to be older in appearance.
Gaea Elder
An old man who was created as a member of the Gaea. Compared to the fierce male members and cold-looking female members, he’s more of a good-natured old man character.
Asurakai Member
Most of the Ashurakai members were thugs in suits, so we had the idea for a man who actually looked dangerous because he had a drawn knife in his hand. Might’ve been a change after Tayama’s death.
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kajaono · 5 months
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Okay, this movie honestly blew me away
There we so many amazing details in there, many of them were a blast, especially for book fans. Most of The Three musketeers adaptation suffer from the fact that they always tell the same story, the first half of the book, over and over and over again. The 2023 prevented that by filming part 1 and 2 back to back. But the 1993 movie was just cheery picking the best bits from the whole book and summarized it to a super entertaining and clever story.
Athos getting his iconic wound at the end of the movie, instead of the beginning
Aramis being saved by religion, instead of D'artagnan was also an amazing idea. Because you do not see coming that the movie would straight up kill one of the three musketeers. And hence you have no idea how they will resolve that
Milady standing up to the Cardinal and putting a knive to his crotch
But especially! Especially! The uniforms. Making the Musketeers bright blue and the red guards, deep red, was not really groundbreaking but visual? On point. Not only did it helped to spot the heros during the fight scenes (side eyes at every other Musketeers movie) but also the moment where everyone drop their brown coat and from one moment to the next it went from anonymous to a crowded place of radiant blue? I screamed!
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maccreadysbaby · 1 year
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Preston Garvey is the sweetest man ever and if anyone wants to fight me on it they can meet me in a back alley, I’ll be in my full general uniform with a laser musket, blue war paint and a Minutemen flag the size of my house (to beat you with)
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I’m sighing with d’Artagnan here, because I was so ready to love the new movie and then… didn’t.
I felt like the film didn’t quite know what it wanted to be - a period drama, a mystery, an adventure story? Political or funny? Suspenseful or a slow build?
The pacing felt uneven, the changes they made to the novel were, imho, not making the story better, and they left out some iconic scenes that needed to happen. (The Wine Cellar Incident™️!)
Some of the casting choices weakened the movie and erased a good amount of chemistry between several characters.
The action scenes were confusing because everyone looked alike, dressed in indistinguishable brown. (Whatever happened to the iconic blue in the Musketeer uniforms? Just a splash would have made such a difference!) I did like the very feathery hats, though.
Eva Green didn’t get the right moments to shine. She may still get a chance when she plays off Vincent Cassel in part 2, but so far I’m underwhelmed by her performance.
Aramis looked like an aging gigolo who smells of horse dung and bad teeth, and while that’s certainly authentic, this version of him has nothing to do with Dumas’ Aramis in the novel. The fact that they put guyliner on him mellows my grudge a bit.
Athos? Looks like he’s in his sixties and Vincent Cassel, too, couldn’t really showcase the full force of his acting skills. The writing simply didn’t allow for that.
Porthos gets an okay from me. I really liked his energy, his positive attitude, and I was very surprised and fully agree with the writers’ decision to make him snack both men and women. He’s a man with an appetite, and I am here for it!
D’Artagnan was my favorite in the movie. He has a sparkle to him, and a youthful headstrongness that is very book!d’Art. His love story with sweet, self-confident Constance was the best part of the movie for me.
They tried a bit too hard to make the film more political-historical. Would’ve been a good idea if they’d executed it well. But again: the pacing is off, sometimes it all drags, and except for creating a good action scene in the cathedral, it didn’t work for me.
I did like that they fleshed out Milady’s backstory in terms of how she became a criminal, and I hope they will use the changes they made to make her character more ambiguous in part two.
And the musical score? I don’t know. I can’t remember a single note. Nothing stuck. Nothing swelled. That’s not how it should be, is it?
That’s the short of it: The whole movie simply wasn’t compelling.
There are worse ways to spend an evening, and there are worse movies, but this is a French adaption of “Les Trois Mousquetaires”, and I really and wholeheartedly had expected something to come out of it that was more than acceptable average.
I’ll watch part two, because I’m still curious how they’ll wrap it up, and I still hope it’ll draw me in. But until then I’ll remain sadly underwhelmed.
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aragarna · 1 year
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Please rant about the new musketeer movie, I need to know how bad it is on a scale from Michael York to Mathew McFaydden, so I know if it's worth trying to hunt down a cinema or wait till it's out on dvd
Well.... The good news is, there's no flying ship in that one. Not sure where to put it though. It's not atrocious, but it's lacking something. I'm always happy to see my boys, and the cast is good. It is rather entertaining at times, and I'm sure people not as attached to the characters as I am might not be as harsh as me but... I guess I was hoping for more? For better? Why is it that there can't be a single decent modern adaptation?!
The rest under the cut because spoilers for The Three Musketeers: d'Artagnan
First, it's visually ugly. It's all in brown and dark tones. Apparently the weather in France is always bad, ranging from pouring rain to clouds and fog. Even the red robe of the cardinal doesn't pop up! And don't get me started on the musketeer's uniforms. Why is it that every single recent movie wants to make them something that they're not. We *know* what they looked like. Blue casaques with a big white cross. Would it look out of fashion today? Of course! Even slightly ridiculous? Maybe. But Mordious, that's a 17th century uniform! Just play along! So, in this one, it becomes a very dark navy blue long coat with a black cross on the arm. It's actually so indisguishable that you can never tell when they're wearing it or not.
But okay, fine, if it was the only issue, I would have waved it off. The rest of the costumes, though probably not historically accurate, look pretty cool over all. If only they had more colors. Can you believe that there's a costumed ball, with one character wearing an arlequin costume and ... it doesn't even look like rainbow-y!
(can you tell I'm slightly mad at the movie's terrible coloring?)
And overall, I felt it wasn't very well filmed. Like, this isn't just a swashbluckler, it's The Swashbuckler story, so gotta work on those sword fights! Give me some fancy fighting! Work a real choregraphy! I understand that this is not the Errol Flynn era anymore but come on. So their idea to make it more "modern" was to use sequence-shots for the fight scenes. That is not a bad idea, but when there's no real choregraphy to follow, that just makes everything messy and pointless. So yeah, disappointed with the action scenes.
My other major source of annoyment was the lack of character development, or just character moments. D'Artagnan flirting with Constance was fine, but it's *not* the main story. It should have been the friendship between our four heroes. Instead of adding a whole new plot, I wish they'd taken the time with the canon scenes. Show me more why they went from being this close to kill each other, to instant friends ready to die for each other. Making Porthos bisexual is fine. I don't mind modernization of characters, but did you have to tell and show me this very clearly 3 times, but then give him virtually no other line of dialogue the rest of the movie? Romain Duris as Aramis is particularly awesome, but the poor guy is just as useless. The film is such a waste of a good casting. D'Artagnan, the main character, barely gets more time. Where is my ever-resourceful, cunning, smart and quick thinking hero? Young and idealistic but also natural leader d'Artagnan? His scenes with Constance are cute enough (and I don't mind that they got rid of Mr. Bonacieux) but I wanted more bonding with the boys! It's called The Three Musketeers, not My Cute Landlady. François Civil does a decent job but he isn't given the most subtle text...
Athos is the only one that is allowed a bit more development, but he's reduced to be a sappy old man. AAARGH ATHOS IS NOT AN OLD MAN. I do like Vincent Cassel, but the movie comes out 20 years too late for him to be a musketeer. Athos is not old, he is just the only vaguely grown-up one of the group. And come on "I don't have enough will to live to lie." ?! What the Hell?
All the characters feel reduced to a single dimension.
And yes, I do realize that you can't fit hundreds of pages in two 2-hour movies, but still, I feel like there were ways to make the movie better if it had been more character-oriented. The only real good character is the King. He has all the best lines and Louis Garrell is perfect.
Finally, while I don't mind when they take liberties from the original story, I'm not sure that the whole side plot actually adds anything. If you're worried about lack of plots, just develop the exisiting ones instead of rushing them in and out of England, maybe? It's Alexandre Dumas you're adapting, don't tell me there aren't enough twists in that plot!
And what annoys me about that side plot is that it starts with Athos being arrested. Which means that, from the start, they're never all four of them together. Which also means that that one supposedly emotional letter from Athos sounds a bit phony. Why would he care for that young idiot that he met only once?
Let my musketeers be all together, Morbleu!
Anyway, to try and end on a more positive note: it does remain entertaining enough that you're not bored. They filmed in real places - Le Louvre looks actually like Le Louvre - which is always a bonus. Louis XIII is awesome, and all the court intrigues are probably the best parts. And they do have a second movie coming out this December to try and make up for that one. We can expect War! Love! Tragedy! Vengeance! (and hopefully more character development?)
Sorry, that was long. All this to say: meh.
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Puss Meet Agustín for the First Time
(My friend did an art trade with me and I truly love it)
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“Now, see here you-“ before the orange Governor was about to say something, a soft melody lifted up in the room that caught everyone’s attention as the voice played out a song.
🎶La estrella que brilla en este día
Puede tratar de decirte que tu deseo está en camino🎶
Puss had never heard this song before or the beautiful voice but he noticed that everyone were staring at someone who was glowing a bit of sparkling blue dust as he entered the room while singing.
Puss took closer underneath the crowd and there he was that caught Puss off guard.
🎶Porque tu deseo especial está escondido
En algún lugar de tu corazón palpitante, mi amor🎶
The man was wearing a blue and white musketeer uniform that matched a bit darker for his boots and hat that got a light blue feather, blue gloves as well as a red cape and a silver reaper sword logo on his front uniform.
But when he turned around, his looks was like it had been carved by angels themselves. Which Doris would say about Prince Charming.
He out-stand or stand-out the crowd with his glossy hair as black as the night sky and his eyes as blue as day with his fair skin that got charming freckles on his cheeks. He smiled that his white teeth sparkles so bright.
Puss had never seen a man who can be so…
What word would he describe him?
Charming? Handsome? Beautiful?
Yes, perhaps beautiful.
Wait, why was he thinking about that?
And why he felt his face getting a bit warm like…? Was he flustered?
What was happening to him?
“Here’s our buddy,” Varian replied as he and his other two friends watched their leader sang a special song.
The man in a blue uniform looked at the crowd at gave them a hat dip as he walked up to the bench while singing that led Puss to follow who was enchanted by his singing voice.
🎶Guiándote a la estrella de los deseos que verás a través de tus ojos🎶
“The Leader of the Three Musketeers, Seníor Agustín.” The orange Governor replied.
“Agustín,” Puss muttered softly as he took a sit on the table next to Agustín who sat down while singing the last lyrics of the song.
🎶Entonces, es posible que hayas visto que eres mi único amor verdadero🎶
Puss took a closer look at the man in front of him and suddenly smiled softly as Agustín smiled and looked at him as if he was there, his blue eyes sparkles like crystals and Puss felt his reflection was on his own emerald green eyes.
Puss’ cheeks started to flustered a bit more as he smiled still, his crystal blue eyes were so beautiful and felt so familiar-
“You alright there, Puss?” Estelaria asked, giggled before looking at Agustín. “My, he looked more handsome than Prince Charming. Don’t you agreed?”
“I guess you’re right,” Puss said while looking away from Estelaria and stared Agustín.
Everyone applauded the man’s beautiful singing, and both of them turned to see the crowd.
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rooster-does-art · 1 year
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The 1st Native Infantry Regiment was one of the main regular army units Spanish colonial authorities had at their disposal in the Philippine colony. Composed of native enlisted men and European officers and NCOs, these regiments were the colony's first line of defense against external and internal threats.
Among the campaigns the 1st Regiment would participate in were: the supression of the Cavite mutiny of 1872, the capture of Jolo in 1876, and the 1887 campaign against Datu Uto along the Rio Grande river.
Around 1888 and 1889, as part of the miltiary reforms at the time, the 1st Native Infantry Regiment would be renumbered and become the 68th "Legazpi" Infantry Regiment. Under this new title the regiment would participate in Governor-General Weyler's 1891 Mindanao campaign and fight against native rebels during the 1896 Philippine Revolution.
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Depicted here is the standard native infantry uniform in the Philippines in 1862, which comprised of a salakot, as headgear, and a blue coat. The Spanish M1752 musket would have been the standard long-arm for the troops at the time.
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