To me, the really intimidating part of Solas’ theme song is that the game introduces it so slowly - first you only hear these thrumming, oppressive war drums (and you didn’t know why - why are there drums? Why??). When you fight the Saarebas, strings come in to lead the drums.
Only when you start fighting the last boss of the game, do you finally hear Solas’ real, complete theme song. Something like a metaphor for hunting down the pieces to the mystery behind the character himself.
I put the three versions of the song together to make a version where one builds up into the next, the way it does in the game. 6-minute panic attack.
description of Connor Kenway: Precious cinnamon roll too good, too pure for this world. Cares for other people more than he cares for himself. Would climb sheer rock faces to pick flowers to help a friend court a lady. Loves and cares for his friends like family. Actual personification of a ray of sunshine, the smell of baking cookies, and the first breath of spring after a long winter. Simultaneously a puppy and a warm loaf of freshly-baked bread.
also a description of Connor Kenway: Ferocious man-bear who would CASUALLY RUN ACROSS A BATTLEFIELD like he was making a trip to the grocery store. Mows down an entire squadron of Redcoats in 5 minutes. Thunderstorm and cyclone given human form. War drums and eagle shrieks would not sound out of place any time he makes an appearance. Could probably fight a hurricane and win.
“He loved cars and girls and getting into fights..
Neapolitan ice cream and the color green..
And most of all he loved the thrill of being Robin.
But he was brash. Impulsive. Headstrong.
Never looking before he leapt..
I knew that, but I didn’t stop him because he wanted it so badly.
He wanted too much to prove something.”
“Just like.. Spoiler.”
“Yes. Maybe if I’d put an end to his attempts, he’d be getting ready to go off to college.. or just having a normal life..
But he’ll never have that.
Maybe it’s not too late for Stephanie.
Because it’s too late for some of us..
For some of us there is no going back.”
The world around, just for a millisecond, seems to numb. All sound is sucked out of the atmosphere itself. All Sabo can hear is the crack of his boots on the stone below, and blood pulses through his ears like war drums in his mind. Every cell in his body aches, but he pushes on. It’s been a long journey to get here, peppered with storms and regret, and the young revolutionary can’t remember the last time he slept. He certainly doesn’t feel like the strong revolutionary he is in this tired, young body. In this world, he comes as a brother, not a soldier.
Heavy breathing. Blonde hair heavy with sweat falls into Sabo’s eyes, and he shoves another body out of the way so hard that they don’t get back up again. Ahead, shrouded in dust and smoke, Luffy has fallen to the ground – he doesn’t look the same as he did when Sabo last saw him. His chest is unscarred, eyes filled with horror, shoulders shaking. Alone on the ground, Luffy seems so small in comparison to the Pirate King that he was when his brother last laid eyes on him at the execution stand. His little brother looks young; too young to be in this war, too young to have to watch what’s about to happen.
No. Sabo won’t let it happen again, not this time. Screw timelines, screw what this might mean for the world. He had a chance to go back and change things. His devil fruit – Ace, living on somehow through Sabo’s own blood – didn’t approve. Neither did Dragon. Sabo doesn’t care. His mind has been overtaken by some alien force, a thirst for the thing he’s been missing for the decade since Ace’s death. A thirst to change things.
Sabo pushes this lean, twenty-year old body harder. The world is still numb, strangely quiet, as if drawing breath as it watches on. The weight of everything Sabo has ever wished for weighs heavily on his shoulders. This is it. This is the moment where the timeline changes. Ace lunges forward. Luffy’s eyes, brown reflecting magma and fire, widen. Sabo takes a flying leap, coat flaring out behind him, just as Akainu raises his fist.
Everything speeds back up.
Sabo barrels into his brothers with enough force to send them both flying back but makes sure to wrap an arm around each, blood singing in his veins. Ace yells out, pushing back against Sabo with rage in his eyes, and the heat radiating harshly from him is tangible. Luffy is limp at the blonde’s other side, and Sabo’s eyes are too blurred to see his face properly. Heat explodes behind them. The Red Dog is angered, magma pouring from him copiously, but his moment is over. Sabo did it. He took his chance, and the world feels like it’s shifting before his very eyes. There’s no going back now.
“Made it on time!”
The yell escapes from his throat before he can stop it, something between a victory cry and a threat. The battlefield is silent for a split second, and Sabo can hear his voice echoing through it over and over, a reinforcement of his own success. Of Ace’s survival. At the distinctive Grey Terminal lilt that laces the ex-noble’s voice, Ace freezes, a strange expression overthrowing the anger on his face. Luffy’s eyes widen, filling with hope and elation.
All three brothers hit the ground, hard. The world comes back to Sabo in a rush like a tsunami, and suddenly they’re running again, Ace and Luffy stumbling and yelling, both confused as to what’s happening but elated at what they just heard. Heat pushes at Sabo’s senses, so intense that panic floods his veins like a drug, and for a second he sees the boat burning around him. Then, it’s gone. The battlefield replaces everything from the past, and surprisingly, the young man is glad for it. Let this war encompass him. If it means Ace lives, so be it – war will come and go, but Sabo will never have another change like this again. Nothing is going to stop him.
“Who the hell are you?!” Ace asks as they run, surprisingly following Sabo. He looks shaken, as if coming so close to losing Luffy just now rattled him to the core. His voice is uncertain, eyes just as hopeful as Luffy’s now, and Sabo’s heart wrenches when he realises that somehow, deep down, they recognise him.
Luffy’s voice is small in Sabo’s ear, torso shuddering against his back. All his fight is gone. Sabo doesn’t recall slinging him onto his back but he must’ve, maybe when the first starting running. Everything is one pulsing, thronging blur. Travelling ten years back in time must be messing up his head.
Ace’s breath hitches, and his head spins around so fast that his neck must ache. His eyes meet Sabo’s for the first time, and he stumbles for a second, caught off guard. For the first time since Sabo arrived here, he can see that ten-year old kid shining out of Ace’s eyes. Too young to take on the world and wearing his big dreams like medals of honor; questioning whether he should be alive; hurt, but still hoping for something bigger than himself.
“Sabo?!” Ace’s voice breaks. Behind them, two of Whitebeard’s commanders clash with Akainu in a supernova of light and sound.
Against his will, Sabo feels tears spring into his eyes, and a grin stretches across his face even as they fall. Ahead of them, the ocean is just visible, wide and true. “I’ve missed you both,” he chokes out, and they run together still. Ace seems to have stopped even breathing. Around them the battle rages on, and Sabo feels horribly exposed without his pipe. “I missed you so much.”
Maybe this time, Sabo can stop the execution of the second pirate king before it happens, too. Maybe both Luffy and Ace will survive this time, if he just plays his cards right. Maybe Sabo and his brothers can stay together and stay alive. Maybe, just maybe, he really did change the timeline for good.
A tired cheer roars through the Whitebeard Pirates as they join the three brothers, unknowing of who Sabo is but uncaring. Ace and Luffy are still in shock, disbelieving and confused, but Sabo can see the eldest of the trio as his face begins to light up. It’s like watching the sun come out. Luffy’s arms tighten slightly around him, sluggish and weak but filled with affection, and for the first time in a long time, Sabo has no regrets. He has his brothers.
Maybe time-travel wasn’t such a bad idea.
Okay so I saw that you really loved the asl pic in the magazine so I just had to write this little thing (mostly just to get out of writer’s block lmao). I hope you like it!
oh gosh PLEASE expand the accidental marriage AU PLEASE. it's so good PLS
they say that rao created the suns and stars and planets to keep him company, that he loved his creations for their beauty and order so much that he made krypton, and its people, to delight in it with him. they said—they said—he was so pleased with his children that he gave to them everything he had: wisdom, and passion, and strength, and intelligence, and within all of these gifts, his love.
“Please take them, they are trashing
my ships!” Polt begged Admiral Ilom
“I have my own Humans here, I can’t
handle more you deal with your own problems. Besides they liberated
Remer why do you want to get rid of them?”
“Because they have a holiday every
week or some kind of celebration and they keep changing the
decorations, besides they eat EVERYTHING!!! Our own food supplies
have dwindled and we have requested twice the normal food shipments
but still they keep eating!!!”
“Well eat their food then, I’m sure
they will share”
“Have you eaten their food?” Polt
asked putting his winged arms on his hips, a stance he mimicked form
“…I see your point, but the answer
is still no, you’ll just have to find a way of dealing with them”
Ilom cut the link and Polt started pulling out his feathers in
frustration but was distracted by a knock on the door.
There was a male Human in a small white
dress and wearing a large horse mask standing there.
“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give
me lots of sweets to eat!!” he said holding a bag.
Polt stared at him and the bag in
confusion and the Human sighed.
“Just give me some food or I egg your
Polt was horrified having come a race
that lays eggs he quickly ran inside and grabbed some fruit from his
bowl and put it in the bag.
“Fruit? Seriously, dick move” he
said moving on and Polt saw that the entire corridor had been
redecorated with odd symbols and all the Humans were walking around
in strange attire. Normally he would scold them for not wearing their
uniform but then he saw Clerk coming his way…or he thought it was.
He was wearing a large yellow wig and a
short dress that glittered and his chest had two cone shapes pointing
“No, I’m Madonna and I’m a virgin”
he said with a straight face leaving Polt to just get back in his
office and lock the door.
The planet Owep'nop was the capital of
the Alliance and all their affairs, they were also technically the
government of all the member races although they could not influence
local matters of the different races. It was lead by a council that
had one representative of each member race, the Human had no
representative as they were the newest member and the others were
still in two minds if they even wanted them there. The decision to
allow them to act as soldiers was not a popular one but since their
work on Remer some were seeing their potential.
Consul Jetya was an Elong and the
elected leader of the Alliance was scrolling through the millions of
reports he had to go through not really reading them, he often just
handed them out among the council and let them do it while spent the
day with his wife’s. His feathers had started to go black and fall
out but his even though his body was ageing his mind had not started
to go yet.
“Mr President!” his co Consul Kelp
and also a Elong came ruining in clearly excited about something.
“If it’s another relief request add
it to the list”
“No sir, Remer has been liberated”
Jetya shot him a look “What? That
world was supposed to have been left to slow the Gal who ordered it
“Um….it was Admiral Polt’s fleet”
“Well , then the Benemar in his fleet
are the be decorated for it, it’s not everyday we get a victory
against the Gal”
“It wasn’t the Benemar sir”
“It was the Humans, Admiral Polt
attacked the Gal upon the wishes of the Human soldiers under his
“Wait, the Humans asked to go into
“Yes and they won, the Benemar were
on planet but had no significant impact on the battle” he said
handing the Consul the pad.
Jetya read through it at the number so
“This can’t be right” Jetya said.
“I checked them, three times” Kelp
replied showing he was dead serious.
“There were only a hundred thousands
Human soldiers against millions of Gal and their casualty rate was
less than 5%”
“And some of those were just
injuries, they only suffered 2% fatal casualties”
Jetya stared at him “No, this can’t
be right I refuse to believe this”
“Sir I can assure you, these reports
are accurate and we are getting similar reports from the others
Jetya stared at him and did not blink
as if his mind had simply shut down, it was a while before he spoke
“Get me all the information on Human
anatomy you can find and anyone, not a Human who knows their inner
workings to be here NOW!”
An hour later a Kelp returned with a
Seran, a race of complete energy that existed as a sort of mist,
their single solid part of their body was their huge eye that seemed
to look in every direction at once.
“Consul this is…”
“My name is
you can call me Tim”
“It’s what the Humans call me and I
have come to like it”
“Okay….Tim tell me all you know
about these Humans and their bodies, their strength and their
A holographic display appeared in the
centre of the room of a Human male and female performing various
actions and movements.
“They don’t look like much” Kelp
“Indeed, I have only met a Human a
few times and the reports we have on their capabilities do not seem
to show in their anatomy” Jetya said.
“You may think so but to
underestimate them would be your downfall” Tim replied “Have you
heard of Vewlop?”
“No” both replied.
“It is because they invaded the
Humans homeworld some centuries ago, they were undergoing one of
their migrations and believed the Human could not put up a fight,
they were wrong and the Vewlop are now extinct”
“Is this why your race pushed us to
“I cannot speak for the my kind as a
“That’s not a no” Kep said.
“So go on tell me what these Humans
“As you see their outer appearance
shows no special features but they perfectly efficient, every part of
their body has it’s purpose, they only need two arms and legs and
eyes. Their sense of balance is second to none”
“It is what is inside where they are
The holographic display showed the
Humans organs and bones.
“They have twice the muscle mass than
the Benemar who were considered the strongest physically in the
Alliance, until now. They can heal any wound at an astonishing rate,
their bones are thicker and their eyesight twice that of even your
Kelp and Jetya looked at one another.
“There is also their chemicals within
their bodies, should a threat appear their blood vessels flood with
this chemical call ‘adrenaline’ which gives them extra strength and
stamina so much so they can go days without rest in battle. Their
brain power works 43% faster than even my race, by the time many
would have only just noticed a threat they have seen it, analysed
it’s threat level and began taking action against it. Their own
stomachs are filled with chemicals to break down food that we can’t
even identify them, they keep melting our beakers”
“So what about their weaknesses?”
Tim floated there and the others were
terrified he was going to say they had none.
“Well, they do have some but not
many, they are immune to nearly all of the viral infections that
plague the other races and most known munitions would not guarantee a
kill as they have been known to continue to fight even after loosing
an arm or leg. A sure way to kill them is to destroy or decapitate
“What is the breeding rate of these
things” Kelp asked.
“Their females can fall pregnant once
every nine of their months, sometimes they birth more than one at a
“How long is that in standard
“0.52 of a cycle”
“No wonder there are so many of them,
before we know it we are going to be overrun by these things!” Kelp
“We have to find a way to contain
them, you said they don’t get along with the Benemar?” Jetya asked.
“That’s an understatement” Kelp
“Contact the Benemar high Chiefs, I
need to speak to them, I don;t want us to defeat the Gal only to
replace them with something worse”
Back on Bento Prime, the drums of war
were sounding as they began to muster their forces.
If Ivar could walk, he would be pacing to wear a hole in the floor; you were sure of it. He sat next to you on your shared bed, one hand on the top of your swollen stomach and the other clasped firmly around your own. You watched the worry etch into his pale features, his fingers grasping yours so tightly they were beginning to go numb. You brought your free hand to his face, gently smoothing the wrinkles that had settled in above his brow with your thumb.
“Ivar, my dear husband, will you please relax?” He scoffed but loosened his death grip on your fingers to allow you some relief. You sighed as he possessively rubbed over your stomach as if trying to calm the small child inside with just his touch. You had been feeling the tightening of your womb for several days but early this morning your waters had broken, throwing Ivar into a fit of worry and anguish.
Something this way comes,
The sound of death and drums.
Around the next corner it hides,
Awaiting the storm and turning tides.
The war of humans and beasts has arrived
I am determined to survive.
This Supernatural war to come,
Can you feel it?
Do you hear the war drum?
Please let me know if you have felt this too
i could've bet my ass that you would be team valor tbh i feel weirdly betrayed
let me tell you something. team valor is fucking nuts. on the FIU campus during PoGo high days, they brought WAR DRUMS and HORNS and VUVUZELAS to announce the Valor hoard’s arrival. It looked like that scene from Mulan where you see the Huns and everyone looks on in horror.
So main Valor leader goes “Instinct where u at!” loud and passionate yells from a group. “Mystic where u at!” more loud and passionate yells from the other side.
“VALOR. WHERE. YOU. AT”
i can’t describe to you the feeling of being on a battlefield in the middle of war but this shit this experience was about as close as i could get because holy shit. the drums, the horns, the unison war cries, the floor shook, the walls vibrated, these assholes were gonna be the very best like no one ever was god damnit and no one could tell them otherwise. that shit was frightening. props to you motherfuckers. go valor.
Throughout training, Cassian had been uncharacteristically quiet.
His brothers knew the reason, whatever it was, must be weighing him down.
Cassian had always been better with dealing with his emotions physically, rather than verbally.
Today, they wouldn’t allow him that option.
“So,” Rhys began, knowing exactly what would make Cassian tick, “Are you going to tell us what’s going on, or are Az and I going to have to beat it out of you?”
“I say we beat first ask questions later,” Azriel joked and gave a wicked smirk. Okay…maybe he wasn’t entirely kidding.
Rhys twirled the iron training staff in his hands and began stalking toward Cassian, “You are the expert interrogator, Azriel.”
Knowing his brothers would very likely attempt to beat his suspicions and thoughts out of him, he decided to give in instead.
“I think Nesta…could be pregnant.” Cassian admitted, his voice barely above a whisper but louder than any words he had ever said before.
The silence and tension was palpable.
For a long moment, no one even moved.
“She doesn’t smell any different.” Rhys observed quietly.
“No. She doesn’t smell different, she doesn’t look different. She tastes the same, acts the same…” Cassian glared at the ground.
Rhys crossed his arms, looking equally pensive and confused. “Why do you think she’s pregnant?”
Cassian didn’t know how to describe the feeling, the uncertainty…It was cloudy in his sea of confusion, but he could swear he was right. “I have this feeling. In my gut, in my bones. When I’m with her…Especially when I’m not with her.” He ran a hand through his hair and continued, “How..? What-?”
“Did you take…precautions?” Azriel tentatively asked, not meaning any insult.
“Precautions? What, like closing the door?” Even in this serious situation, Cassian wouldn’t miss an opportunity to sass his brother.
Rhys threw his head back and laughed. He knew what it was like to be with an Archeron woman.
Azriel, however, blanched.
“Yes to the first,” Cassian drawled. “And no to the second,” he added with a wink and ducked away from Azriel’s attempt to smack his head.
All at once, he felt it.
The difference was as stark as night and day. It felt like looking directly into the sun.
A white hot brand down the bond, his confusion- which he realized had not entirely been his own- was replaced with clarity.
Pure, blinding clarity.
Cassian dropped to his knees and roared so loud that the snow on the mountains began tumbling down. Nesta, Nesta, Nesta
Rhys and Azriel were immediately at his side, ready to shield him or fight by his side at this unseen force that made this great man stumble.
Without looking up, Cassian sobbed. He barely found the words and choked, “Mine.” His shoulders shook and wings were fully unfurled and quaking.
A quiet understanding swept between Rhys and Azriel, and they lifted their brother back to his feet.
Putting his hands on his shoulders, Rhys looked Cassian squarely in the eyes. “Go,” he commanded.
Instantaneously, Cassian shook his brother’s hands free, and shot towards the sky.
Without looking back, he flew as fast as his wings would carry him to his new future. “Nesta, Nesta, Nesta,” he said her name aloud, repeating it like a holy mantra. I’m coming.
Not to be bothered trying to open their door with his muddied hands, he crashed it open.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. Nor she at him. “She’s so beautiful,” he thought. She was already glowing.
He had to touch her, had to feel for himself the truth of what was growing in her body.
Barely grazing his fingertips on her stomach, he could feel it.
He was fire, Nesta was ice…
This was lightning.
Just conceived weeks ago, but the power was already there… “Tell me…” His heartbeat was audible as it was pounding as loud as any war drum.
She knew his question, knew he had known the answer before seeing for himself and touching it. He felt the truth, now he needed to hear it.
With their love, they had created something special.
War is the most devastating form of violence. All of the muggings that we’ve had in the streets of New York would not add up to death by war. When this world ends it won’t be ended by muggers in the street. It will be ended by highly educated people using weapons developed by highly educated people, law-abiding people, people with little fair-haired kids, house on the corner, professors in colleges. Because these are the people who do what? Make the bombs, make the weapons, make the missiles, and all of these kinds of things. And yet we will not study these people as perhaps possessing some genes for violence. Is there a gene for psyche violence? The kind of violence you do to a people’s mind when you destroy their culture, their history, destroy their self-esteem, and the other kinds of stuff?
I think what is even more interesting is the fact that the most devastating violence is perpetrated by your average law-abiding citizen. By our good Christian citizens. Haven’t you thought it very peculiar that when the army recruits it does not recruit killers? Here is the greatest killing machine in the world, right, and yet, it weeds out killers. It looks at your criminal records and says “We really don’t want any criminals in here.” What then do they want? Nice American people. Christian boys. Law-abiding boys. High school graduates. People with clean records. Because they are the most conducive to making into killers. They make the best killers. Why? They’ve been trained to submit to authority only without thinking. They’ve shown by their clean records that they’re not rebels, so if the officer says “Take that hill,” off they will go, it doesn’t matter what the point is. They’re used to bowing to authority and following authority unthinkingly. They have been trained into conformity. They’ve been trained to respond to patriotic music, so you play the music and beat the drums and off they march to war; it doesn’t matter what it is for. They have been trained to believe that as Americans or whatever nationality, they are morally superior to their enemies, and that their enemies are less humans than they. And therefore you can use their very religion as the key to getting them to kill by designating the other people as pagans; nonbelievers.
That’s why they want the moral ones; they make really good killers. So these average, moral, law-abiding people, also have a genetic marker for violence, and yet it is under the banner of religion and patriotism that most of the killing and death in the world has occurred. And then they want to come to you and convince you that the kind of violence that occurs on our streets, which we must end of course, represents our children having some kind of genetic marker for violence.