#guile's theme

[teabree-shark]

Nichijou's second ending goes with everything

Guile's theme goes with everything

Do they go together?

[whitherwanderer]

7 // morsel

// 272 words. When starving, even the smallest bit of food is a feast.

Hands to herself.

She has no trouble following social cues and norms—this is how you get people to understand that not all of your kin are sharp-edged and venom-tongued, after all—but a bit of good drink warming her blood makes for a slipping leash around the indecent things she could say and be. Slipping, yes, but never loose. That would surely be death.

Her thoughts tug on the lead and, in turn, pull her whole body taut. Silver heels draw marks through a perfectly polished stage and she finds herself envious. Screaming strings sing their agony and she hears her own voice. Hellfire eyes like those would make a fine crucible to be unmade in, wouldn’t they?

There’s pride in how well she’s able to keep herself in line. Look at this ravenous thing smile and fold her hands. Look at how she keeps herself collected even now, enjoying her own chains and the taste of blood on her teeth where they’ve bitten down to still her tongue.

To feel the slightest touch of icy silver claws make a liar of that strength is to be stood at the edge of her grave with a whisper in her ear, asking if she wants to know what lies beyond. Perhaps, she whispers back. But isn’t it more fun to wonder?

So she lets the thought of those claws linger in her mind. In the dark of her apartment, safe from impropriety, the lead drops and she is free to savor the fantasy. A feast from the rime of a sudden coldsnap in midsummer that keeps her up at night, shivering. Hands to herself.

[aq2003]

rewatching ben whishaw's richard ii and yea i think the biggest difference between his and the rsc version is that he plays richard's flippancy/disregard for other people's lives completely straight and in a kind of sinister way while david plays it for humor

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 2

Guile's Theme from Super Street Fighter II: The New Challengers

vs.

Return to Slime from Terraria Calamity Mod

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Guile's Theme:

You do not know the LENGTHS I went to verify which version of Guile's Theme this is. I literally thought this was some midi cover made by some dude but then I saw this was actually the snes version. But I was like "hmmm the snes version sounds a bit different tho" then I realized that the different versions of street fighter II uses different sound fonts or instruments or whatever. You might be thinking "didnt we already establish that there are different versions of sf2?" ohohohoho I'm not talking about the different console versions no no. I'm talking about shit like super street fighter II turbo or street fight II champion addition, the different versions that were released on the same fucking systems. There are FOUR different versions of street fighter II just on the snes and the arcade version has six! Anyways this is the Super Street Fighter II: The New Challengers on the snes released in Japan on June 25, 1994 version goddamnit. The shit I do just to fact check a song that's been meme'd to hell and back.

[ramsaybaggins]

The moment I saw this video I HAD to do this

Video is an IG story from today from https://www.instagram.com/linds_cantrell/

[nxthingmxtters]

🐎 ---- How strong is your muse? Could they fight someone with a stronger skillset than them?

🐾🙀😻 --- Animal themed headcanon prompts

At 55, Martha's no longer the spring chicken she once was but that doesn't mean she's weak by a long shot. Martha can and has gone up against the Batman of her own timeline despite the two of them being well into middle age at this point and Thomas Wayne holding himself back from inflicting harm against his former wife. Still, being the Joker is no easy life and Martha frequently contends with other enemies such as rival crooks, cops and hapless civilians who want no part of her mad games. People often underestimate Martha for various reasons; she's not the tallest nor the most physically powerful person one could meet in Gotham what with being an older woman. In fact, she'd almost seem harmless were it not for the torn lips and stitches holding ragged flesh together suggesting her ability to withstand pain is right up there - if she even has the cognitive function to register physical pain anymore. Might only goes so far in a fight and when it comes to fights however and Martha isn't afraid to fight dirty, pulling out every filthy trick in the book to win. Why wrestle somebody when a bullet through the brain does the job much more quickly? Why waste time beating around the bush and making a grand spectacle of things when you can simply ambush your prey, cutting them down before they even realize what's happening? Whatever it takes to beat you, you can be sure Martha's planned on it and when push comes to shove, people are often surprised that she's no slouch on the battleground either, moving far quickly than you'd expect an older woman to be able to. Strength is certainly nice but it doesn't help much if you get a scalpel to the eye socket before you've got the chance to do anything with it.

[the-californicationist]

You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton is sooooo Johnny and Reader in Guile & Guilt.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk, goodnight

Here’s the link for the song so you don’t have to look it up lol: https://youtu.be/8e7S8l4s1OM?si=v9LEp9bTI0kxqaNP

this is SO the theme song of the next chapter omg. jesus marie christ. i wish you could see the draft because ... uh. yeah ^_^

[brii-mawler]

It's all fun and games making your morning alarm to Guile's theme from Super Street Fighter 2

Until your cat knows that song means he's about to get his breakfast. Now Guile's theme is a pavlovian trigger to your cat that there can be no peace until M. Bison pays for what he did to your best friend. Or at least until the kibble goes in his dish.

Relevant video attached.

[ghost--girlfriend]

finally got a good design going for my guilty gear s/i !!!! now ive just gotta find a good name for her...

[jchamphero]

Yoko Shimomura is modern day Mozart. If I had unlimited money to make a game that’s who’s doing the soundtrack.

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

Smell of the Game from Guilty Gear Strive

vs.

Guile's Theme from Super Street Fighter II: The New Challengers

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Smell of the Game:

Sometimes Daisuke Ishiwatari writes a song so incredible he proceeds to build an entire fighting game around it.

Guile's Theme:

You do not know the LENGTHS I went to verify which version of Guile's Theme this is. I literally thought this was some midi cover made by some dude but then I saw this was actually the snes version. But I was like "hmmm the snes version sounds a bit different tho" then I realized that the different versions of street fighter II uses different sound fonts or instruments or whatever. You might be thinking "didnt we already establish that there are different versions of sf2?" ohohohoho I'm not talking about the different console versions no no. I'm talking about shit like super street fighter II turbo or street fight II champion addition, the different versions that were released on the same fucking systems. There are FOUR different versions of street fighter II just on the snes and the arcade version has six! Anyways this is the Super Street Fighter II: The New Challengers on the snes released in Japan on June 25, 1994 version goddamnit. The shit I do just to fact check a song that's been meme'd to hell and back.

[distinguishedpaintertimetravel]

The best Montgomery Brawl reenactment 🤣🤣❤

[whickberstreetwriters]

Celebrating the Whickber Street Writers Association community 💜

We're a discord micro-community of Good Omens fanfic writers and, last week, one of our members @prinxlegolass gave us all the most wonderful gift: a message from Maggie Service 🥰

We wanted to share it for a couple of reasons. One was that we hope other fanfic writers might also enjoy the prompt Maggie gave us! Secondly, it's a great reminder of why storytelling matters. We're going to be doing some writing soon based on her prompt but, for now, we wanted to share some of the amazing work that our members have already created (as always, please read the tags on AO3):

Among the Stacks (65K) by @rhosmeinir - Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?

Angels Don't Dance (Rated Mature, WIP currently at 50K) by @sixshotsinatumbllr - Crowley is assigned to investigate the unexpected uptick of infernal energy being produced by Bush Doofs in Australia. He brings Aziraphale along for the ride. It goes... well, it goes about as well as you would think.

Exit Wound (Rated Explicit, 5K) by @prinxlegolass - This is a story of love, loss, coming home, and everything that never was; a re-telling of an Irish Celtic Myth that has been sanitised and long-forgotten. Taking place one hundred years into Early Christian Ireland, it weaves themes of spiritual colonisation with the ineffability of a great plan and the parts of us that are never truly lost.

Ineffable Poetry (Rated General, 4.9K) by @bl0ndwave - a collection of poems written after watching Good Omens S02 because @bl0ndwave is still absolutely hearbroken :(

The Kindest Thing (Rated General, 1K) by @bohoteacher - In the aftermath of the final fifteen, Maggie observes Aziraphale & Crowley's parting, realizing that her and Nina's interference may have been partly to blame. She feels terrible and desperately sad for Mr. Fell & Mr. Crowley. Forgiveness comes to her from an unusual source.

Last Dance (Rated Teen, 800 words) by @rcreveal - Maggie and Nina are mortal and Aziraphale and Crowley are not. Someday, the Ineffable Husbands will have to say goodbye to dear friends.

Living Fiction (Rated Mature, 20K) by @sakascal - For two years self-published romance writer Azariah Fell has been coming to this café, three times a week on a schedule. It's the view that he's coming for - but not of the street. Right across the street is the florist shop 'Serpens et Horto', and the proprietor Anthony Crowley keeps drawing his eyes. So, is it really a surprise when one of the main characters in his latest book has a striking resemblance to Anthony Crowley?

Punks without pants (Rated Explicit, WIP currently at 47K) by @playdohangel - an AU based in London around the end of 1978 to 1979 known as ‘the winter of discontent’. Strikes, protests and political upheaval were the norm. Az, an avid follower of the Northern Soul music scene, is having a pretty shitty time of it. His dads been laid off and he's had to come down to London to work for his uncle who owns the punk venue, Dingwalls. There, his path crosses with punk Crowley, a self-confessed rich, spoiled shit running from his own past...

The Season of Nightingales (Rated Teen, Podfic) by @nosferatini - A nice and accurate prophecy of the season following the parting ways of an angel and his demon—if such an Ineffable Plan were written by a benevolent God…. As the effort to thwart Heaven’s wiles is complicated by unexpected friends, an ex-Inspector Constable, a guileful Metatron, and a Heavenly floor full of the Blessed Dead—Aziraphale and Crowley find that navigating their relationship is not mutually exclusive from saving the world from Armageddon.

Set Yourself On Fire (Rated Explicit, WIP currently at 112K with one chapter left!) by @rofell - A Sapphic fic: Azira and Crowley are old high school enemies who end up as dorm roommates. They couldn't possibly have anything in common, right? A love story that spans decades, about dealing with your shit and becoming the person you were meant to be.

The Travel Sweet Illusion (Rated Mature, 6K) by @secretlywingedphantom - What if Crowley did, in fact, secretly pass something to the angel in the final 15? A somewhat-silly one shot about an angel and a demon preparing for the worst. But in the most delightful and delicious of ways.

Walk in the Shade (Rated Teen, 1.7 K) by @springofviolets - A sad man (gn) walks into a bar and... Written for the Whickber Street Writers Association Karaoke Project, an event based around the prompt: what happens when a new karaoke bar opens on Whickber Street and attracts the attention of a certain demon?

Whatever I Like Best (Rated Mature, 1.8K) by @naturallyteal - The Secret Dream Diary of a Good Omens fan (anonymous, he) who contracted a severe case of the fandom-typical brain rot from watching S1 & S2 too often, reading too much fanfic on AO3, and spending altogether too much time engaging on tumblr, digesting gifs, fanart and meta. He dreams about Good Omens every night.

Write A Way (Rated Explicit, 73K) by @angie-words - Azira Fell and AJ Crowley are both successful authors in their own right, invited to speak at the same national book festival. Despite a falling out a couple of years ago, they've never actually met - so this event is going to be awkward for both of them. Right? As it happens, it seems they share a love of a certain TV show... and being very active parts of its fandom (yep, it's Fanfic Writer Crowley and Fanfic Reader Aziraphale time!)

Lastly, @sakascal has also put together a poem at extremely short notice inspired by Maggie Service's prompt!

Spirit

Met by the warm current that surrounds all

A sense of comfort breaking any wall

Genial free smile, hopeful yet welcoming

Graced by cheery lights under lashes pleasing

Inviting arms wide open to the world

Essence of kindness for all unfurled

[sun-snatcher]

May i have a blurb of Haytham Kenway… a taste… pretty please…

( all credits to @giffedit for this incredible gifset! )

✠ | insufferable ; haytham kenway

summ. Bickerings oft lead to equally heated conclusions. a/n.  A TASTE you say? Here’s 1k of an angry, enemies-to-questionable-allies makeout. No actual smut, but NSFW themes, ofc.

YOU CAN’T RECALL how you got here.

Here, by way of meaning: 

Pinned against Templar Grandmaster Haytham Kenway’s paper-strewn work desk, inkpot spilled over and staining the cuffs of your sleeves, with his hands roving down your sides and your hips pressed hard against his.

“You,” he rasps, bordering a growl. “Are an insufferable woman.”

The proximity, the heat of your panting mingling with his— it’s blistering. Feverish. You want to kiss him. You want to punch him. 

You tighten the bracket of your thighs around his waist, tip the tricorn hat off his head with a defiant scowl. “You should’ve never inducted me into your Order, then, Master Kenway.”

Right. Yes. You vaguely remember now. It’d been yet another typical heated argument; another disagreement and row borne from dredging up old wounds of your ex-Assassin history, of Haytham’s present and obvious distaste of it, despite the fact you’ve proven yourself worthy to the Templars more than once alongside Shay.

Earlier, you’d barely finished your tirade (“You and your dastardly cloak make me so—!”), hands thrown in the air when the ironclad grip of Haytham abruptly circled your wrist.

The others had known better than to interfere when you’d practically been yanked into the Grandmaster’s study for an upbraiding. 

Or, well, what they thought would be an upbraiding.

“Then let us be free of this months-long tension,” Haytham had hissed, instead. “More productively.”

So here you are. Rough-housed and man-handled. You hitch at the bumps and the scolding nips he makes, try to return the same wanton fervor to his jaw and his Adam’s apple, but to no avail. Haytham is a looming shadow, greater than you not just by rank and experience but by sheer, dizzying strength— 

The vicious kisses he bullies against the bitten-red of your lips are charged and ardent. Meant to force you into some semblance of submission; to be docile. Has you gasping for air and resisting him the satisfaction of a moan when he gropes at the flesh of your thighs. 

“Master Kenway,” you choke, nuzzling into the slope of his neck, unable to stop yourself from indulging the heady, masculine, salt of it with an eager tongue.

He groans at the high and tight way you address, call, plead for him, sounding like prey at the mercy of an untamed, starved beast. 

It makes you grin when you realise. Coy as a fox and full of guile. Haytham can feel it curl across his cheek, in your slow languorous tease as you snark, “And here I thought you hated me.”

“Hate is an inadequate term,” he censures, mouthing hot and humid against your skin. “There are no words in any bloody language that can encompass just how— you make me feel.”

It’s a raw confession, as mean and as bitten out as it is. A honeyed, double-edged sword. You make a mental note of it anyway, and try not to contemplate the fact that you have this much power over the Grandmaster Templar, nor let it get to your head— whatever he means by his words. 

“And what, exactly, do you feel?” Your hand expertly wanders past his belt. The innocent petal-touch strikes a lightning bolt of want surging through him. Makes him twitch. “This?”

Haytham doesn’t deign to give you an answer, unsurprisingly. He hates not being in control, after all, and so he makes quick work to put you back in your place: below rank, through yet another savage kiss, a guttural warning nosed on the scant space just below your ear that leaves you subconsciously keening closer.

It does poorly to satiate him. The dangerous yen for something more brutal still burns molten in his stomach; something that tastes warmer. There’s still the bitter anger and bruised pride he holds from the arguments before, and for the ones that’ll surely come after. The blatant disrespect you show whenever you bare your teeth at him, as if he isn’t your superior. 

He wants— no, needs— to sink into you, to see you shut up and aching to be ruined with the thick of him—

“I’ll make you wear nothing but this ‘dastardly’ cloak of mine one day,” Haytham grinds out, voice rough-hewn from his wet and growing appetite. “And then spread you out and take my time with you.”

He greedily licks a stripe up your throat as he says it, carves the whine that escapes you into his memory.

“One day?” Your scoff is breathless and stilted. The feel of his teeth grazing your jugular is intoxicating. “I reckon you’ll— hah— hardly deliver now, Master Kenway, to— warrant another chance after this.”

(Regardless, you entertain the idea. Have entertained, to be more specific. You’ve imagined what it’s like on lonelier nights.

To have him hike your legs up his broad shoulders, tangle your fingers through his perfectly kempt hair. Catch the flash of his wry, canine-sharp smile, rare as they are; face soaked and telling over his nose and down his lips from where you’d have shut him up by forcefully burying him between your thighs and cushioning into your—)

You expect the usual blaze of anger. A challenging snarl. Instead:

“Oh?” Haytham laughs.

Laughs.

And Christ alive— that dark, daring and depraved rumble huffed at your sweat-slicked nape shouldn’t have made you more pliant; more eager for him, but it does. It feels like the damning prelude of an already losing war, now, the way he’s forced your full weight down with such frightening ease onto the desk to look up at him. 

There’s an ominous calm before a storm, brewing frostily in his dilated eyes. He’s conceding, you realise.

And then—

“Tell me to stop,” Haytham breathes. 

It’s the least insulting tone he’d taken with you yet since you’d first begun arguing. A fragile moment of clarity. 

In uncharacteristic tenderness, you feel him thumb gently at your cheek. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, “You have my word.”

Something soft unfurls deep in your ribcage. Takes flight.

“Don’t,” you whisper, trying not to shudder at the English gentlemanly-ness he so likes to wholly fashion himself with to hide his wild, beastly nature— that you’ve so liked to repeatedly claim you found irksome. You tighten your grip reflexively.

(Darling, dearest, dove. You never admit it, but the classy posturing has always been an attractive feat of his. Something about wolves in sheep’s clothing, you think. Something about being rabidly taken for his own animalistic pleasure—) 

“Don’t you dare, Kenway.”

And so the delicate moment passes. Haytham surges his head forward to steal a kiss from you again, inhales a lungful of your cloying scent that’s mixed with the sea-winds from the weeks of sailing aboard the Morrigan.

“Mh,” he hums in assent, nosing his way from your hairline down to the juncture of your neck; letting his calloused hand mould wide around the thin, bare skin of it to feel your bated breath and rapid pulse. He could snuff you out like a light in an instant. (And he supposes you like the thrill of that as much as he does.)

“Then I believe I ought to teach you a lesson or two about respect, dear.” 

Haytham pulls away and cocks his head. As if thinking. As if he hadn’t imagined this a hundred times over since he’d met you, in the darkest hour of every restless night when he’s alone with nothing but his fist jerking between his legs.

“How about we put that smart mouth of yours to good use first?”

[bitemedotmp3]

"Having a good theme song is super important, dude! It's about building your identity! Listen, I'll link you to the Street Fighter OST, you'll see what I mean."

"heard my fair share o' complaints towards it, but what in the seven hells' would ya even consider brawlin' music? don't see much wrong with what i've got, ain't really the main focus, and yet..."

[marvelstars]

Anidala courtly love: The Queen of the galaxy and her dark knight

When people ask how Padme fell for Anakin I believe they forget both of them were quite lonely people before meeting as adults, gifted kids selected from childhood, Padme for her political skill, Anakin for his strenght in the force to help their community and the galaxy, without much of a life of their own. Still both of them were raised to become bigger people than themselves, to sacrifice for their community to bring justice to the galaxy.

They were grateful for their opportunities but they also felt empty, Anakin missed his mother and feared for her life while Padme longed to have a family of her own but her work took most of her time and she knew she was needed.

They meet as many fairytales begin, with Padme as a child Queen trying to rescue her castle from evil while child/slave Anakin longed to become her knight in shinning armor to help her and her people despite the dangers to himself.

Together they stopped the plans of the dark sorcerer who planned to take over the kingdom, Palpatine, not knowing he would take revenge on them at the right time.

Padme already loved Anakin as a friend before they meet again as adults and she started to notice him not just as a friend but also as a man who was gifted as her but also lonely and longing for love, Anakin risked his life to save her planet without asking anything, he did it because they were friends, he could not lie to her to save his life, he doesn´t like it when people lie to him either and his personality makes this harsh for him, he is too transparent, he has the honesty of the soldier/of the warrior not the guiles of the politicians, he told her he could not live without her and he was honest, for a policitician used to listen to skilled liars trying to woo her 24/7, this can be quite attractive and then they shared a force bond.

They were modeled after the old courtly love where the lady is like a Queen to her knight , the lady becomes their inspiration for the hero to keep fighting the good fight.

Palpatine twisted that, he used their love agaisnt each other, Padme and Anakin started to lie to each other and doubt about their loyalties, the war took a toll on Anakin and his wounds from slavery and his mother´s death never were addresed, Padme could see this fear growing in Anakin but had her own duties trying to start a movement to stop her old mentor from becoming Emperor, she thoguht she was going to have more time. This conflict between them was born from Palpatine´s machinations and their weakness for each other was the cherry on top for their fall but their love was real from the beggining.

Both of them end up dying, that was Palpatine´s revenge, he killed Anakin spiritually, slaving him to his throne to use his power while Padme died from the sadness of her lover´s betrayal and the fall of the republic but in the center of their fall lied Palpatine´s own downfal as their children grew up to take down his kingdom and free their father.

Star wars is a fairytale that touches realistic and scific narratives and it´s great to see those old themes being brought again to tell stories.