Violence Cw - Blog Posts
@whumpgifathon | Day #25: ALT PROMPT "Begging" Upgrade (2018)
okay please don’t make me be the one to write an omgcp fic where it’s a dirty game and someone goes flying into the goalie net and pushes chowder into the back and nursey and dex just kind of “thats our fucking goalie” and start a fight and nursey is there first and the crease just dissolves into mayhem. nursey gets his time in the sin bin and when he gets out he plays hard af and they win, but the moment they get to the locker room chowder grabs nursey to make sure he’s okay bc he’s got a busted lip and his cheekbone looks pretty bruised already and nursey prides himself on being calm and collected, proving himself with his stick instead of his fists, and nursey just smiles and grabs chowder, says he’s fine and asks how chowder is and chowders fine and nursey just jostles him, promises the next time he’ll get the shutout and chowder just pushes him back and promises next time he can fight his own fights and they’re both smiling and laughing and like idk some good pure chowder/nursey interaction
“their relationship is too deep to be sexual” what’s deeper than dick in hole. please tell me
btw this isn’t the extent of the horrors white supremacists will enact. the real horrors will start as they return to their communities with the high of having broken into the fucking capitol with guns and bombs and having been protected by the police and the president. the real horrors will be enacted on poc and Black ppl specifically now that white supremacists know they can do whatever the fuck they want with guaranteed protection, they will not be enacted on congressmen. it’s not your politicians you have to worry about. pelosi will be just fine.
humans: what is my muse’s view on humans? do they like them? fear them? indifferent toward them?
for the merfolk…
"Love 'em." A grin as he shifts on the bed, hands behind his head as he rests against the headboard. "They're just so... What's the word. Silly? Goofy? Fuckin' wild? They have all these crazy inventions--" A frown. "Some of them I do hate, I must say. Who the fuck thought beds 're comfortable. Who invented cars. Who invented gluten." He just wants to talk.
"They're also a lo' friendlier than the creatures in the depths. At least most humans don't stab first and ask questions later, yanno?"
spectreoflasan // Zeb Orrelios
“Right. Better patch up anybody who made it through this kriffing mess.” Zeb nodded at Sabine’s suggestion. Together they tracked down a cluster of survivors who’d gathered on the fringes of the area that had been scorched nauseatingly clean. There were a few wounded who could be helped by the first aid supplies they’d had on board, but Zeb saw immediately that Lothal was going to need a lot more than they had with them: more medical supplies, more food, more more.
Though they could tell their reassurance had made some difference, and hells knew Sabine could keep it together when they had to, Zeb sensed the situation was still weighing on them as they worked. He muttered something vague about searching for other survivors to the huddled group around him and stepped aside to speak with her. “Uh, we should probably round up anybody else who hasn’t made it over here, but….” They faltered. He’d had more than a few anguished questions about who are these vong and why did they do this to us, questions he had no answers for. “Karabast. People keep asking me what the hells happened, and who’s gonna protect them now if they come back. … I don’t know what to tell them. How, uh, how you holding up?”
_
The two worked in tandem, a steady silence of unease and anxiety. She could practically feel it in the air around them, in the breaths of each being that now adopted the same pain Zeb and Sabine had known all too well: the pain of losing a home. At least bandaging burns gave her hands something to do other than tremble.
“Yeah, we should, er...” When her sibling’s demeanor dropped, so did the Mandalorian’s. “Fuck, Zeb, that’s--” Their words wavered. What was there to say? Of course these people were right to be scared- to want answers- but it’s not like she or Zeb knew any more than they did.
“I’m living, y’know? I’m alive, and I’ve got my family,” (some of them) “which is more than most of these folks can say right now. You?”
spectreoflasan // Zeb Orrelios
Smouldering ruins had gotten to be too familiar a sight to Zeb these days. (Hapes. Invisec. Sernpidal. Lasan. Always Lasan.) He’d numbed himself to this kind of devastation years ago—nothing could ever compare to seeing your homeworld reduced to a lifeless, burned-out shell. But Lothal had been as good as home, too, for a time. Seeing it like this again—worse even than what the Empire had inflicted on it—made him that much more grateful that his family had escaped the devastation this time.
“Yeah,” they agreed, placing a steadying hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “Good thing they’ve got us, right?” Zeb didn’t let too much levity into their voice—wouldn’t be right—just enough to let her know that things could get to be okay again, even if they weren’t now. “Same place as always. With the survivors. Always seem to be a few hard-headed nerf-herders who are just too damn stubborn to die.” (Like us.) He squeezed their shoulder gently. “So, let’s find ‘em. Get ‘em some shelter, some of these rations… then we’ll see about this comms business.”
_
Sabine felt the familiar weight of her ori’vod’s hand on their shoulder, the words of assurance giving her something steady to focus on. The thought of how many friends they’d lost the last few years...it made her stomach churn. Looking in their green eye, Sabine knew Zeb could feel it, too. The sickness of losing a planet, of losing a people...gods, the losses never seemed to stop. But, they had to try, right? That’s what it was all about, what their rebel family had convinced the young Mandalorian of in times like this.
“Yeah, you’re, uh. You’re right, Zeb. Lothal has always pulled through. This time isn’t any different.”
But it was-- the last few weeks, Sabine couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. First Hapes, now this...and similar attacks across the galaxy, if word-of-mouth could be trusted. It was terrifying, even to someone who was raised in the creed of war.
“We, uh. Should we start with stabilizing the injured?”
galaxywon // Hera Syndulla
There was a sick knot in Hera’s stomach, hands dropping from Sabine’s arms as another blast made them duck for cover. She hadn’t even bothered to bring a weapon. At one point in their life, it would have been baffling not to have one on their hip. She imagined it was even worse for their Mandalorian child. “ Good idea. My comm was smashed in the commotion. We’ll have to go to Chopper, tell him to prepare the ship. “ she informed them, eyes scanning the vicinity one more time, hoping for Zeb’s purple fur, Kanan’s tall frame, Ezra’s dark hair. They weren’t there, at least not in her view. “ They should know to evac to The Ghost when they can, when they’ve done all they can do. “ When there’s no one left to save. “ We just have to make sure the ship is prepared. “
The two ducked through the chaos, the eruption of violence continuing its ruinous wake around them. Fires burned in the reflection of Hera’s eyes, and Sabine felt nothing but raw, unfiltered fury, white-hot and burning in their stomach.
“Well, we’d better keep the engine running for them, huh?”
The two of them would see their family again. Sabine had to believe it, had to commit it to memory with every tension of muscle, every kick and thrust and stab and bite. If she had to tear the throats out of every Hapan guard between here and the Ghost, they’d do it. The two of them were going to see their family again, and fuck anything or anyone that stood in the way of a Mandalorian determined.
The sight of the planet ran cold in her blood. For a moment, as the ship dropped from hyperspace, all they could see was Mandalore. The ash, the scars of a scorched planet. Streets overrun with fire, buildings reduced to ash. It was all too familiar. Guilt surged in their blood like it had done then, her breath caught in panic and fear. Without thinking, Sabine clutched onto Zeb, their fur thick underneath her touch.
“It’s so much worse than I thought.”
If the Mandalorian had held any doubt that Lothal needed their help, it was gone now. There was a half-glance shared, and a moment of understanding passed between the two. There was work to be done, and no time to hesitate.
“Where do we even begin?”
@spectreoflasan
generally-scheming // Armitage Hux
“They work for me,” Hux snapped. His teeth ground together when the Mandalorian had no answers for him. That scared him most of all — the explosions, the carnage, even the New Republic’s fickle new allies opening fire on their guests paled in comparison to the threat of an unknown enemy. Under other circumstances, any enemy of the New Republic was a potential ally, but the alien warriors did not stop to ask questions as they sliced through the crowd with frightening efficiency. “Call me ‘sweetheart’ one more time and I might just change my mind about not killing you.”
Hux caught the stake with a grimace. “We’ll have to do better than this.” What a joke. Architects of planet-scale superweapons and they were armed with sticks. He ducked under a table, definitely because of tactical advantage and not cowardice. A passing Hapan guard crumbled to the floor when Hux sank the wooden shard into their shin. But they still overpowered Hux when he grabbed at their blaster. He squirmed under their superior strength, grappling for his life. He clawed, he bit, he pulled every dirty trick in the book, and it wasn’t going to be enough. “Wren— Sabine— your new friends are going to kill us all!”
_
The Mandalorian spat out the blood pooling in her mouth, wiping hastily with the back of her hand. Their newfound ally ducked under a table, and Sabine crouched near him, surveying the scene for anything else that could be used as a weapon. A guard approached with hurried hostility, and Sabine watched as Hux plunged the shard into their leg. Not enough to kill.
“As if you could get out of this on your own.” The statement may well prove to be true of her, too. As sour as the thought was, the two needed each other.
The seconds passed in a fervor, and each brought with it clarity: he’d lose without their help. Reluctantly, she sprang at the guard, tackling them and digging the jagged wood into the exposed skin on their neck. Just as soon, a crack! sounded above them, and she dove at Hux, pulling him out of the way of falling rock.
“Think I’m not trying? And they don’t work for me, either, asshole.”
She swore under their breath, brown eyes scanning the scene for a route of escape. The room would be engulfed in flame in just minutes.
“We’ve got to make for the armory. Either give me the blaster or tell me you’re a better shot than you look. We’ve gotta go, now!”