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lullabyes22-blog · 4 months

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Snippet - Tipping Point - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Silco forces Vander's hand beyond all recourse.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"They're like a cult," Vander said, their last night together.

Silco didn't glance up. He'd been sitting at the Drop's table, hands laced under his chin, poring over a map. Black ink, red ink. Blue strings running in between, like the veins in a corpse. He'd been at it all evening, and his eyeballs vibrated. So did the rest of him.

Usually, he'd take the percolating mania and channel it into Sevika. She was a solid presence: always available, always hungry. By now, he'd all but moved into hers and Nandi's flat. There was gossip, as there was bound to be. Neither he nor Sevika gave a toss.

Nandi was gone, and he couldn't shake her loss.

But at least he could fuck his way out of the grief.

That's what he and Sevika did, most nights: fucked, then slept, then fucked again. Mornings, they'd wake with sour mouths, and sour moods. He'd brew her tea, and she'd suck his cock under the table. Afterward, they'd share a plateful of sump-vole fritters, and plot the day's course. Then she'd leave for her patrol, and he'd go to work at the Drop. Evenings, they'd rendezvous at Jericho's. A little more planning, a little more fucking. She'd rub his shoulders, or he'd knead her calf-muscles. She'd feed him bits of smoked sardines, and he'd eat her out until her toes curled. Then, after the drinks were drunk and the dishes were washed, they'd fall into bed again.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

It wasn't love—neither of them was ready for that. But it was easy. It was enough. A rhythm he could fall into; a routine she could count on. Sevika wasn't Nandi. Everything about her was a fraction heavier, harder, coarser. She wasn't soft; she wasn't sweet. But her body was a good one, and her mind a keen one. Her temper could flare; but her humor could cut.

And her laugh, though rare, chased all the shadows out of the gloom.

He could live with that. Hell, he could live for it. Even—love it? In time. When Zaun was theirs, and the dead laid to rest.

Not that night.

That night, the maps wouldn't stop jittering. His mind kept running in circles. Sevika wasn't due till late. There was only Vander.

Only Vander, and his looming shadow.

And Silco's own: darkening the map.

"A cult, you say?" he said. A fortnight, he thought. The time's nearly up. "That's high praise."

"Is it?" Vander's chin jerked towards the flapping door, where a pair of scrappers had just slunk out. "That lot were practically beggin' for commands. Looked at you like you were a bloody god." He grimaced. "Makes my skin crawl."

"They're useful." Silco stirred the page with a fingertip. "Steady hands."

"An' sharp knives." Vander's brows bristled. "I ain't seen a lick of their faces, but I bet they're young. Too young for this kind of job."

"We were all too young."

"And look what happened." Vander crossed his arms over his chest, his face granite except for the vein throbbing in his temple. His jowls were furred with stubble; all attempts at grooming had ceased the past few weeks. "The Lanes are crawlin' with their sort lately. They'd kill their own mothers for coin. An' you've got a talent for pickin' the worst."

"Perhaps," Silco rejoined, "I prefer company with an ounce of ambition."

"Ambition's the least of their bloody traits!"

"Vander, use your thick head. We're at war." Silco tapped the maps with an idleness that belied his irritation. "And war needs more than soldiers and stalwart hearts. It needs spies and saboteurs. People who'll do the dirty work without compromising the cause. I have my contacts, and they have theirs. If it weren't for them, we'd have no way to ship our goods."

"We wouldn't have a bunch of cutthroats loose in the Lanes, neither."

"We've always had cutthroats."

"Not this many!" Vander's fist slammed against the table, rattling the glassware. Once, Silco would've jerked. Now, his body-language betrayed nothing. Passions were a volatile commodity; a good leader could ill-afford to succumb to his own. He'd learnt the hard way and meant to profit from the lesson. "They're a fuckin' infestation! Eyes like dead things an' smiles like wolves. They've got no limits. All they want is blood."

"The world's made them that way."

"An' you're the one exploiting 'em."

"I'm offering them a choice."

"Are you?" Vander glowered, looming into his space. "What are their options, huh? Down the gutter, or up the river? They're not loyal, Silco. They're fanatical. To you."

"To us," Silco corrected.

"I didn't ask for a cult!"

"Then maybe you should!"

Their eyes locked from across a flashpoint of inches. In their debates, as a rule, Silco weighed Vander's words before his own. It was a practice borne of equity: no partnership comes without compromise. Lately, though, they never debated. He'd get an earful of strident moralism.

Tonight he'd had enough.

"Right now, our plans are only partially done,” he said. “But unless we get every cutthroat, snitch and sneak-thief on our side, they'll be undone. The Wardens will kill us all. You. Me. Sevika. Benzo. They'll raze the Lanes to the ground, and salt the ashes. And when the smoke clears, the soft ones—the ones like Nandi, like Lika and her girls, like your two boys—will be put to work. All our children will die before they've a chance to live. Is that what you want?"

"Don't make this somethin' it's not." Vander's jaw jutted. "You think I don't want Topside's boot off our necks? You think I wouldn't give anything to make sure our kids breathe easy? You think I don't think back on Bloody Sunday every single damn day? What was lost? What you—" Silco's head tilted, a basilisk lifting, and Vander backed off just enough to avoid his stare. "...what we could've done."

"Could've. Would've. Should've." Silco's eyes descended to subzero. "All excuses for a failure to act now. Or maybe the Hound's losing his teeth?"

Vander's nostrils flared. He unbent to his full height stepped around the counter, a slow, lumbering turn. His shadow engulfed Silco like a fist.

"If you had any idea," he said, a whiskey-waft of heat. "Any. How much I'd like to—"

"To what?" Silco challenged. "Discipline? Force me to obey? Do try. I could use a spot of fun."

Vander seized a fistful of his shirtfront. The next moment, Silco found himself being dragged across the countertop. The whiskey glasses toppled to the floorboards. The ledgers and maps scattered. He was half-slung through the air, the room upside-down before the breath was knocked out of him.

His spine hit the wall, legs dangling. A fist pinned him in place.

Vander's features were contorted, a red-hot fury at once leashed and explosive. His fingers closed around Silco's throat. He didn't squeeze. Not yet. But the threat was there.

"D'you even listen to yourself?" he gritted. "D'you have a shred of decency left? Or did Nandi's death knock it all outta you? She'd be ashamed. To see you. To see what you're doin'!"

Silco let one corner of his mouth curl. "What am I doing?"

"You know damnwell what!"

The nights, he meant.

The plainclothesmen gutted in the shadows. Their bodies left in the open where everyone could see. The edge of Silco's knife never clean when he came home.

"It's not the way," Vander said, a hairline crack in his voice. "You know it isn't."

"You haven't stopped me."

"Stopped you?" Vander's knuckles flexed. "I've tried. Every day since you started. I thought...you'd get it out of your system. You'd snap out of it. But you haven't. You won't. You've gotten a taste for it."

"I have a taste for keeping us alive."

"You have a taste for murder!" Vander shook him. "An' I can't keep turnin' a blind eye. You're the best thing that's happened to the Lanes, Blut. If the Undercity had to choose, they'd have my back. But we'd all be six feet under without you! That's why you need to get your shit together. Because when this is over, I won't let you walk away."

"Threats, Vander?"

"This has gone far enough." Vander's pitch dropped. The Hound's warning rumble. "If you cross the line again, I won't hesitate."

"You won't have to."

"What?"

"The Sheriff has issued a search warrant. In a fortnight, the Enforcers will crack down." Silco's eyes went past Vander's shoulder, where the maps had fallen. "A citywide sweep. We'll lose the advantage. Our networks, our stockpiles. Everything. Unless—"

Vander's hold on his neck tightened. "Unless what?"

"We strike first."

"First." Vander's grip stayed immobile. But his stare was no longer a blister. It was a burn: eating Silco alive. "Fuck. This is what you've been planning."

"A smokescreen."

Silco's fingers folded around Vander's wrist. It didn't budge. Vander was strong; the strongest he'd ever known. Struggling was besides the point. Part of him was already prepared to go all the way. To let go and take Vander with him into the freefall of blackness.

"The Enforcers bodies will divert Topside's attention," Silco went on. "Their patrols will be spread thin. The bodies were all near the Canal Zone. They'll believe our operation was concentrated there. Meanwhile, the guardposts at Bridgeside will be understaffed. We'll deploy the squads to transport the ammo. If everything goes as planned, the Lanes will have the full arsenal by tomorrow night. Then, the real war will begin."

"Blut..."

"Think. You'll have everything. A force. Firepower. Enough to drive Topside out of our streets for good."

Vander's fist clenched and unclenched. His eyes roved the room, the empty stools, the felled glasses, the scattered plans. His shoulders caved inward.

It wasn't surrender. It was a man, bracing himself against a massing storm.

"How could you?" he rasped. "Silco, how could you?"

"There is no other way."

"Sevika... she knows about this?"

"We had a talk."

"A talk," Vander repeated flatly. "Of course. You're her damned messiah now. That girl was always prowlin' for someone to take her old man's place. Someone who'd give her orders. Who'd make her feel strong. I told you not to play games with her. To not lead her on. To not—do this!"

With renewed disgust, Vander shoved him away. Silco swayed but kept his balance. Vander's fingerprints burned around his throat.

"That's why you chose her, isn't it?” Vander went on. “Her gang's the most coordinated in the Lanes. The most ruthless. Our folks respect 'em, but they fear 'em, too. They're perfect for what you've got planned." When Silco stayed silent, he shook his head. "For Janna's sake, Blut. She's barely twenty-two. You were supposed to be her family. Her mentor. Not the person who puts the goddamn matches in her hand!"

Silco snapped. Low-blows made for the deepest cuts.

"You used me first, remember? When I was sixteen and you were twenty-one. You knew I'd do anything for you. You knew I'd follow you to the ends of the earth. You've always known, and still you've never had the guts to do what should be done. So I have. Because someone has to. Someone with a spine, and the balls to take what's theirs."

"Fuckin' hell." Vander's face had changed. The lines carved deep, shadows in the hollows of his cheekbones. He looked both worn to the bone, and blasted open. "All these years. All these years... an' you never let it go. Why couldn't you let it go? Why couldn't you forgive me?"

"Why couldn't you?!"

The air was charged with currents. Silco's body sang. Like a sea-change: skin sloughing off, and something raw and primal birthing itself. Something he'd known was always inside him, and was now in its last throes of transformation. He had no name for it but he knew its shape.

It was a part of him. A monster. Same as Vander's.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Silco said softly. "Nor am I giving it. But I am asking you to do what's necessary. For us."

"Us," Vander repeated, the word scraped raw.

"Our city. Because Zaun will die if we don't do this, Vander. So will everyone we love." Silco took a step towards him. Vander shuddered. He felt the tremor. Felt the monster behind it. The two of them: feeding off each other. A decades-long twining of call-and-response. "We can't keep on like this. You. Me. Sevika. Benzo. Lika. We've been fighting our fates since we were children. Now it's time to take the fight to Topside."

"Blut..."

"We can win this. We have the weapons. We have the people. We have the resolve. We just need you."

“Me?”

"You're the Hound of the Underground. Our champion. Because that's not me, Vander. It will never be me. No matter what those scrappers, or Sevika, or you, or anyone says. That's not who I am."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane vander #vander #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane zaun #zaun #vanco #vander x silco #snippet #sevilco #silco x sevika

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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Part 16 the Straw Hats and Eri!Reader meet Camie the Mermaid and Pappag the Starfish, along with a former enemy now friend Hachin (Who treats them to some delicious Takoyaki) after fighting Duval

She and everyone else were shocked about Duval’s face reveal, but she was the only one willing to comfort Sanji since he was the most ‘traumatized’ by the shocking reveal (Which made him bust out crying over the kindness of his ‘Baby Sister’ since she’s so kind for worrying about his feelings) *I snorted when I saw Brook drop to the floor laughing*

Sanji also made sure to help Reader enjoy eating her Octopus Fritters (And wiped any sauce that got on her face) though he would gush when she fed him some of her Fritters to him (He feels honored by how Reader is such a kind and sweet girl)

Their next stop is Sabaody Archipelago! (Not knowing of the looming danger that’s ahead of them)

-Your brows furrowed, sitting between Robin and Chopper, a frown on your face, “Ark-e-pel-lego?” Robin giggled softly, as you had been having trouble trying to pronounce archipelago (I swear I’m not projecting at all- lie).

-Nami had told everyone that the ship would be docking in a place called the Sabaody Archipelago, and it was the gateway between where you had been traveling all this time, to the New World.

-A dark shadow appeared over the ship and your eyes went wide as a massive sea beast rose out of the water and Luffy quickly charged in, dispatching it quickly.

-Your eyes went wide when it spat something out and Sanji quickly dashed forward, catching a mermaid! Sparkles were quickly surrounding you as the beast swam away, now afraid of Luffy.

-Camie was so pretty! You had never met a starfish before, until she introduced you to Pappag and she Camie was so kind to you, shaking your hand, “I’ve never met a human child before!”

-Sanji was flirting, “And I’ve never met a mermaid before!” question marks surrounded your head before you went to speak, wanting to remind him of Kokoro, but Usopp put his hand over your mouth, giving a weak smile, “Let Sanji have this.”

-You were scared when Camie said that her friend, Hachi, who you remember from Arlong Park, running over to Nami who immediately kneeled, hugging you close, but Nami was surprised to hear that Hachi had changed- opening a takoyaki stand.

-However, when she tried to call Hachi, to come and get her and Pappag, someone else answered and you froze, hearing the voice telling Camie that they were going to sell Hachi to the auction house, as fishmen and mermaids always sold for a lot of money.

-Luffy turned to Nami, leaving the decision to her. Nami squeezed you close before nodding softly, knowing that the crew could easily handle Hachi if he were to try anything against any of them or you.

-The Flying Fish were so cool! You couldn’t help but watch, from the safety of Nami’s grove, after you were told to hide, as you watched your family fight against Duval, who was really angry at Sanji for some reason, while they were trying to rescue Pappag, Camie, and Hachi at the same time.

-Your jaw dropped as you saw Duval’s face, seeing that he looked like Sanji’s wanted poster, which didn’t look a thing like him, but Duval was furious at the similarities.

-Brook was laughing loudly as he landed near you, after taking care of some of the Flying Fish riders, holding his stomach… or where his stomach would have been if he had one, while Sanji was yelling at him.

-Duval was prepared to catch everyone onboard Sunny, wanting to sell everyone, knowing that the auction house would love seeing fishmen, a mermaid, and a heavily wanted crew.

-After the battle had been won and you were all on the Sunny, Duval now a friend to the Straw Hats, as now he was extremely beautiful, in his opinion, Hachi was treating everyone to Takoyaki.

-You could see Nami was hesitant and angry with Hachi being on board, which he knew, but she did tell him that his Takoyaki was yummy at least.

-You were sitting on Sanji’s lap, as he was pouting lightly still, however he was helping you eat the Takoyaki, blowing on it as it was a little too hot for you.

-Seeing your cheeks fully, looking like a little chipmunk, quickly turned Sanji’s mood around, smiling down at you as he wiped your mouth, “You really like those don’t you?”

-You nodded rapidly, “It’s so yummy! I’ve never had anything like it before!” Hachi couldn’t help but smile, thanking you for your compliment which did surprise you- he wasn’t scary like he was before.

-Your eyes went huge as you approached the archipelago, seeing the towering mangrove trees and the massive floating bubbles, staring with Chopper, Luffy, and Usopp, all of you with sparkly eyes as Hachi told Nami that to get to Fishman Island, they would need to get the ship coated to travel under the water, and that he would take him to the best person he knows for coating.

-You were excited to explore the island, not hearing the dangers of this place, with the World Nobles and other powerful pirates, as well as marines on top of it. You just wouldn’t wait to get off the ship!

#eri reader #luffy #zoro #nami #usopp #sanji #chopper #nico robin #franky #brook

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givemearmstopraywith · 4 months

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I want Palestinians to have Gaza and the West Bank back, but I don’t trust Hamas to do the right thing. That’s my big issue. Bibi Netanyahu is an evil fascistic fuck, but Hamas is no better. It’s hard not to feel afraid of them when they go on TV and say they just want to do more October 7ths. Who am I supposed to root for when both sides keep doing cruelties and nobody wants to sit down and negotiate a good cease fire?

this is not a game. you are not "rooting" for anyone. ideology, morality, ethics, are not a ship you sit in at the expense of thousands of drowning people. authorities are minority: all authority corrupts itself. you side with the vulnerable. you side with ten thousand dead children. you side with with the displaced, the starving, the violated, the oppressed. you do not side with the people who have imperialist backing who have spent seventy-five years systematically stripping palestinians of their humanity. this is not hard. you are in a seat of unbelievable privilege, in your little moral boat, where you can fritter and vex yourself over who is more "moral" for you to "root for." take a good long look in the mirror and ask yourself if your concern about moral turpitude is more important than ten thousand dead children.

#replies #also what you 'want'? doesnt mean jack shit

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lassieposting · 1 year

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So anyway

I finished S2 firmly like "Nikolai and Kirigan should've been friends". Because they want the same fuckin things. They both want to end Grisha persecution, they both want to improve Ravka, they both want to end Lantsov corruption, they're both military, they're both willing to fight on the front lines or sacrifice for their people. Nikolai would've served under Kirigan during his military service, and seen him at court besides. They'd absolutely have hit it off.

But then I found out that Nikolai/Kirigan is actually a ship in this fandom. And I kind of get it? But mostly I'm cackling at the idea that like.

Nikolai is That Kid. The one that's like "I have a crush and I'm going to make it everyone else's problem."

It's like, a cute little hero-worship thing, at first? He's at that age where he's allowed to sit in on court proceedings, because even though he's the spare he's still expected to learn how to rule, and he's either just started his own military service or he's just about to, and unlike Vasily, he's proud to serve his country. And Kirigan is? Someone to look up to. Ravka has been at war for longer than Nikolai has been alive, besieged on all sides, and he knows that it's not his father the king who's keeping the Shu Han and the Fjerdans at bay. It's not Vasily, who's in his twenties now and would rather fritter away the country's coin on whores and horses than ever set foot on a battlefield. It's General Kirigan.

And - well, and the other chap, the First Army General in West Ravka, but Nikolai has never met him.

And like. Nikolai is a little people-pleaser. When he thinks of himself as king - which he knows is unlikely to happen, and he knows he shouldn't wish for it in the first place because the only way he'd ever get the throne is if something terrible happened to Vasily, he knows - but when he thinks of himself as king, he wants to think he'd be a good one. A benevolent one, who'd make life better for the common people and not just his own family. He pictures himself as a brave, respected leader of men. Independent. Strong-willed, driven, self-assured. Handsome. He pictures himself as someone like General Kirigan.

(He'll admit that, one day - the image he had of the Black General growing up, as the hero archetype a king ought to be - and Kirigan - Aleksander, by that point - will laugh himself stupid and say, "You're an appalling judge of character. There's too much monster in me to make much of a king." And maybe that's true - he knows Aleksander's done some terrible things, what soldier hasn't in war? - but he's Nikolai's monster, and Ravka's, keeping invaders away from their borders and assassins away from Nikolai's private rooms, so he'd argue that perhaps that's not entirely a bad thing.)

And, well, he gets a little older, and discovers that people are attractive, and childish hero-worship develops into full-blown hormone-addled teenage puppy love and. He's not subtle about it, like, at all.

It's like...Father invites the General to eat with the family one evening after a late meeting, and Nikolai bribes Vasily to switch seats so he can spend the evening charming his hero with his wit and maturity. What actually happens is that he goes all shy and mostly just Yearns™ across the table while all the adults present delicately ignore the moon-eyed elephant in the room.

He has a servant take some of his favourite books on military history over to the Little Palace, in case the General might like them, because he's fairly sure the Grand Palace library is..well...grander...than the Little Palace library. It literally does not occur to him how patronizing that is coming from a spotty sixteen-year-old with net zero victories to his name. He knows Kirigan must be a bit older than he looks - he swore the Grisha to the crown when Nikolai's grandfather was on the throne - but he has no idea that Kirigan served in the wars the books were written about.

When he's a little older and has more time to himself, he starts dropping in to visit at the Little Palace, which...isn't really the done thing, for some reason - none of his family ever have much call to visit outside of official events - but? Who's going to say no to the tsarevich? He has a tendency for a while to pop up wherever Kirigan is working and pelt him with enthusiastic questions - why did you form the Second Army? When did you build the Little Palace? Why do you bring all the Grisha to live here? Where did you grow up? What's the Cut? Can I see it? Why have you never brought your family to court? Do you have a family? Is there no Lady Kirigan? How long did it take you to make General? What did you do to get promoted?

Kirigan is polite. He answers harmless questions as honestly as he thinks he safely can - which lowkey affects how Nikolai's political opinions end up differing from his family's, because it turns out the General makes a lot of good points about how badly Grisha were and are treated outside the Little Palace, and it's not really Nikolai's place to have opinions on how his father rules but he thinks they should not be treated like that, maybe - deflects personal ones, entertains Nikolai's interest in strategy when he's in a good mood, gives him some harmless busywork tasks to do so he feels useful and lets Kirigan get actual work done. He's a bit flattered, even, that the boy sees him as a role model, because it's surprisingly easy to forget how impressive your military career has been, even in just this "lifetime", when all most people ever see when they look at you is the big bad scary Darkling. But at some point Nikolai does something stupid - tries to kiss him, gets too familiar, idk, he's like 17 and horny - that makes it blatantly obvious that he's misreading indulgence as interest, and Kirigan has to slam up some boundaries sharpish. Nikolai starts finding Fedyor posted outside the war room to tell him cheerfully that he's sorry, but the General is very busy and can't be disturbed.

(Fedyor and Ivan have been finding the blatant crush highly entertaining. Kirigan hasn't - he's fucking cringing on the inside - but he tolerates the subtle teasing from his heartrenders with something approaching good grace.)

Anyway, Nikolai grows up, spends years at a time away from the Grand Palace, has a pretty successful military career with the First Army and then amuses himself by turning privateer and fleecing the Fjerdans as Sturmhond. He grows up enough to realise how deeply cringey he was for a few years there, because he's gone through something similar with an overeager young deckhand who had a real thing for the Sturmhond persona. He's not far off thirty when Father has a heart attack and Vasily has a horse racing accident not long after and Nikolai finds himself recalled to Ravka to take the throne. He has to work closely with Kirigan, which suits him fine, because not only do they have compatible plans for Ravka, it turns out that as adult men on equal footing, they get on like a house on fire, and can even joke about his awkward younger self. And if he happens to...cross some conventions of propriety...well, he's old enough to know his own mind, and he's had it off with enough of his own crew to know how to balance a professional relationship and a personal one. Kirigan understands grief, understands pressure, understands having countless lives in your hands and no way to save all of them, and Saints know Nikolai needs to lean on someone, because Mother's too beside herself to have his fears and hurts on her shoulders too.

(Kirigan - Aleksander - understands that, too. Difficult mothers. Nikolai is learning all sorts of things about his General these days)

Actually you know what I've talked myself into the ship. This was supposed to just be a short post about the comedy potential of long-suffering Darkles dealing with a pampered princeling's obvious crush but have some headcanons instead bc all aboard the HMS Darkolai I guess

#sab headcanons #darkolai #nikolai lantsov #aleksander kirigan #i have not read the books and i am entirely fudging the timeline #but yeah ugh i was so hoping these two would vibe and get along #sab

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corpse-to-ability · 4 months

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"Brrr… So cold. The draft makes it three times colder… I wish I could turn into a cicada nymph and live the rest of my years underground, where there's no wind…"

An Arthur Rimbaud roleplay blog.

ABOUT

• I might not be 100% in character, but I will try my best.

• I am okay with nsfw questions, towards the character, NOT the mod.

• Ships are okay. Not proships. But I (mod) personally like only Rimlaine.

• He/they/it for Arthur. They/them for mod. (This blog is run by an Rimbaud fictive :3)

• Another RP blog from @lippythepup , @cafe-uzumaki , @stoicsleuth , @sora-s-conscious , @wimpiest-in-the-east , @aka-s-sheep probably some more I forgot about. mod is @rimbadance ( or @syunkiss )

• Headcannons here

(Idle youth,

Subservient to everything,

I have frittered away my life

Through gentleness.

Ah! may the time come

When hearts will meet!) - Arthur Rimbaud

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you.""

taken anons: ☁️ , 🎀 , 🫧

Adorable art made by the cutiepie @teddymochi !!

#tags:#🐻‍❄️#🐻‍❄️.reblog #geral tags:#bungo sd #bungo #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd roleplay #bsd rp blog #bsd rp #bsd #bsd arthur rimbaud #bsd arthur #bsd rimbaud #arthur rimbaud rp #arthur rimbaud #in character #ooc

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nethhiri · 7 hours

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Siren Charms: Chapter 13

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: None

You Know What They Say About Assumptions

It seemed like Chopper would be fine. So would Luffy and Brook. If Nami didn't kill them, that is. She seemed pretty mad that they did something so stupid. With that settled, your wings returned, erupting from the two long, silvery scars that formed a V-shape on your back. It only took a few seconds for them to form fully thanks to your earlier meal. Black, iridescent feathers spread as you took off.

From the corner of your eye, you saw movement. One of the fish riders was headed towards the mermaid and her octopus friend. You didn't give a shit about them, but you did want to fight. You flew towards him, itching to tackle him out of the sky. Just as you sped up to put greater force on the impact, there was a flash of green in front of you and the fish man was gone. With your target down, you had to quickly maneuver to avoid hitting anything else. You doubled back and landed in front of Zoro, who stood on the dock.

"That one was mine." You folded your arms.

"If it was yours, why did I get him first?"

You sized him up. So that's how he wants to play. Fine. "Anyways... have you seen my thingy?" You drew it in the air with your finger. "Spiky. Big. I threw it somewhere."

"The mace you had? Try in the direction of the destroyed buildings." He motioned in the direction of a big pile of broken wood and tangled metal.

You smiled at him, making sure your teeth were visible. "Thanks." You turned in the direction he pointed, purposely making him dodge your hulking wings. By nature, you were dominant and territorial, usually manifesting as competitiveness. After all, in the open ocean, it was survival of the fittest.

It was harder than you thought it would be to find your mace. You spent way too long digging through toppled building materials, flinging bits of metal and wood in all directions. Of course it was underneath everything else. You grabbed it by the handle and dragged it behind you, walking back to the dock, taking a swing at anyone who thought they could run up on you. You made it back to the dock in time to see Sanji get dragged underwater in some kind of weird net.

The little starfish that showed up with the mermaid was saying something about how even though the octopus fish man couldn't catch up to the flying fish, Camie could. You stood up a little straighter. You could, too. You were faster than a mermaid.

"There's nothing that can out-swim a mermaid," the talking starfish said.

"Is that what you think?" You challenged, joining them.

"She's really that awesome? I never knew," Luffy replied.

You dove toward the water, planning to show up that stupid mermaid, but you were jerked backwards by Luffy's arm wrapped around your middle. You wiggled to get free but his grip was really strong.

"Gotcha! Watch where you're going! You almost fell in!"

Of course. He still thinks I'm a devil fruit user. It was amusing at first. You should probably let them know what you really were though. You sighed, "Thanks, Luffy."

Luffy and Sanji made quick work of the rest of the flying fish riders and their boss, leaving you all to move on, back to your original task of finding Fish-Man Island. The octopus fish man, Hachi, and his octopus fritter boat stand came along with you, unfortunately meaning the mermaid and her pet came along too. You had to admit, however, that the fritters he made were tasty.

You sat with Robin, Franky, and Zoro on the deck of the Sunny, enjoying some beer along with the fritters. Beer, along with other alcohol, was only available to you when you were on land or a ship. It took a lot to have an effect on you because of your metabolism. If you were going to get drunk though, you preferred to get it through blood. If you fed from someone with a high blood alcohol content, it had the same effect as drinking the booze itself.

Robin let you look at one of the books she had brought out to read. You couldn't read any of it, but you could look at the pictures. You flipped through it, stopping when you got to a page with something that looked like you. You looked at it with invested curiosity, trying to figure out what it might say. Maybe you could ask Robin to read it to you later. The drawing wasn't quite accurate. The fins were drawn like those of a mermaid. Sirens had a slightly different shape to their tail fins. They also had bigger dorsal fins and were often bioluminescent. The wings weren't accurate either. They were too small.

"Are you interested in mythology, Ether?" The raven-haired archeologist stared at you curiously.

"Oh I thought this was a nature encyclopedia." You flipped around to see that your entry was between the entries of unicorns and dragons and various other beasts of dubious existence. "I guess so."

"What? You can't read?" Zoro laughed.

You curled your lip. "Can you?"

The others laughed and he frowned. Robin looked noticeably relieved that you weren't offended. You weren't supposed to know how to read this language, so why would you be embarrassed? Robin was greatly intrigued by the entry you had focused on, though that had been her intention all along. Sirens had a tendency towards narcissism.

"Yo, E. How did you manage to get to Chopper earlier? That dive was pretty impressive." Franky added,"Thanks, by the way. Nami and I had our hands full with Brook and Luffy."

"Yeah you were drenched." Robin played along. "I'm quite shocked you managed to swim to the ship."

Zoro folded his arms. "I've never seen a devil fruit user swim at all. They sink like rocks."

A faint smile played at your lips. "Who said I was a devil fruit user?"

Tag list: @bbnbhm

#one piece #x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #siren charms #straw hat pirates

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wubsbian · 7 months

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Another thread from twt@/IbnRiad on Palestinian Resistance

Dec 3rd, 8am: 🧵 For all people saying "what's the point of the resistance's rockets": you must understand the fragility of the settlers, their desperation for safety and security and their unwillingness to sacrifice themselves for their stolen land.

This is why, despite the asymmetry in firepower, the rockets of the resistance threaten the fragile colonists and their dream of maintaining a safe, luxurious occupation without any price. The disruption of rushing to shelters is enough to make life "intolerable" for these people

There is great injustice in the non-equivalence between the sacrifices of Palestinians vs. the occupier's, but the natives of the land have no choice but to sacrifice for it. Settlers from across the world will return whence they came, if they can't steal land and homes in peace.

Due to this disgusting, hypocritical, unjust world in which we live, Palestinians have to sacrifice thousands upon thousands of martyrs in their struggle- but they do so with great faith and resilience, sacrificing all for the struggle.

The settlers, meanwhile, are complaining about the conditions of the hotels they were shipped to after they fled the Gaza envelope and the northern border. This is the difference between the native and the coloniser.

This is why the rockets of the resistance hold great, great power: the shake the security of the occupation. They remind the settlers their occupation has a price, and will always have a price. If they are not willing to pay it (and the majority are not), they must leave.

Unfortunately so many people on here who think they just know better than the resistance (whose leaders orchestrated the single greatest military operation of this century), and simply pass judgement with an ill-educated glance, dripping with racism and orinetalism.

There is staggering arrogance in the assumption that you can pass judgement without bothering to try and understand the social dynamics and psychology underlying this equation, and jump straight to saying "the resistance should do this, instead". Who do you think you are?

This is even without discussing the Iron Dome & its finite stock of interceptors, which if depleted in this stage of the battle, will leave the occupation facing thousands of missiles from across the region the moment it progresses into regional war, with nothing to stop them.

End thread

Personal note: I did not author these. Yes I still use Twitter and I boost updates on the genocide on there. Yes in spite of Musk. Of course Palestinian and resistance voices are not only limited to there; @fairuzfan made a short Palestinian tumblr list a day ago. Gotta boost Palestinian voices wherever I see them. Probably won't make another post like this, I don't add anything. If you like what I show you from IbnRiad go follow on Twitter yourself or use a client like Fritter. Stand with Palestine. Stand with the Resistance.

#nonfiction #free palestine #free gaza #axis of resistance #antifascist #antifascism #al qassam brigades

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hrtpizza · 1 year

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I asked or suggestions on my insta bc I was in a sepfship mood and also Tumblr won't let me adjust the layout on mobile so I guess I'll die.

#pizza tower #fritter #peppino #self shipping moment #self ship

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planerot · 1 month

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Natcruz is totally my main Cruz ship but also the idea of one sided Cruz x Miss Fritter is very funny.

Like I don’t think it’d actually become a serious relationship, but the idea of Cruz getting a massive embarrassing lesbian crush on Miss Fritter is very funny.

Like yeah, she tried to kill her and Lightning and is absolutely probably never gonna reciprocate (nor would Cruz want her to), but also…big scary buff lady (or the cars equivalent of that)……awooga awooga.

#cruz ramirez #miss fritter #pixar cars #cars fandom

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xserpx · 7 months

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Your August Fuck-Hole,

The truth? Under the wilful mismanagement of the old villains on your Closed Council, your army is rotting. Frittered away with cavalier carelessness, as a rake might fritter away his father’s fortune. If they were the enemy’s councillors they could scarcely do more to frustrate your Fuck-Hole’s interests in the North. You could do better yourself, which is truly the most damning indictment of which I am capable. It would have been more honourable to load the men aboard in Adua, wave them off with a tear in the eye, then simply set fire to the ships and send them all to the bottom of the bay.

The truth? Marshal Kroy is competent, and cares for his soldiers, and I ardently desire to fuck his daughter, but there is only so much one man can do. His underlings, Jalenhorm, Mitterick and Meed, have been struggling manfully with each other for the place of worst general in history. I hardly know which deserves the higher contempt – the pleasant but incompetent dullard, the treacherous, reckless careerist, or the indecisive, war-mongering pedant. At least the last has already paid for his folly with his life. With any luck the rest of us will follow.

The truth? Why would you care? Old friends like us need have no pretences. I know better than most you are a cringing cipher, a spineless figurehead, a self-pitying, self-loving, self-hating child-man, king of nothing but your own vanity. Bayaz rules here, and he is bereft of conscience, scruple or mercy. The man is a monster. The worst I have seen, in fact, since I last looked in the mirror.

The truth? I am rotting too. I am buried alive, and already rotting. If I was not such a coward I would kill myself, but I am, and so I must content myself with killing others in the hope that one day, if I can only wade deep enough in blood, I will come out clean. While I wait breathlessly for rehabilitation that will never come, I will of course be delighted to consume any shit you might deign to squeeze into my face from the royal buttocks.

I remain your Fuck-Hole’s most betrayed and vilified scapegoat,

Bremer dan Gorst, Royal Observer of the Northern Fiasco

— The Heroes by Joe Abercrombie

"He wrote at least one of these a night, savage punctuation points between rambling sentences of trying to force himself to sleep. Sometimes he even felt better afterwards. For a very short while."

#the heroes #bremer dan gorst #joe abercrombie #the first law #suicide mention #iconic letter #there's wentworth's letter in persuasion and then there's this

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