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tiderideraa · 5 months
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harry has moved , @tiderider .
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tiderideraa · 5 months
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the words that slipped past her lips were a tremor, an uneasy mantra murmured over and over and harry couldn't help but imagine a younger allie saying the same things. smaller and alone, left behind somewhere that was meant to be safe only to find monsters lurking in the light. she had dressed her childhood in fairy lights and glitter, bathed it in a beauty that only a girl could imagine and had banished the horrors as nightmares conjured from an imaginative mind and by the insistance of a mother who scorned responsibility as a optional virtue. it explained so many things, opening the floodgates to a new born awareness that harry hated with every fibre of his being. ignorance was bliss and allie had been so blissfully ignorant.
harry remembered tall tales told by pirates of fairies who's light faded as they died and he wondered, briefly, if there was some truth to them after all. with allie wrapped in his arms, sobbing into his chest, shattered and broken hearted, harry imagined the light beneath her skin going out and held her all the tighter. she cries harder, horrible choking sobs as she struggled to breathe through her panic and her grief. for a moment, harry worried she would hyperventilate and faint. he wouldn't blame her if she did, though the timing would have been an inconvenience. but she persevered and harry was reminded of why had dragged allie's mother to the isle, why he had invited allie to confront her so harshly.
allie was stronger than he thought. stronger than anyone thought.
there was no way to hush her as she begged, no way to comfort her, to reassure her. he let her beg, let her plead, every single word another tally another slight tallied against her mother. how dare she make allie love her this much. how dare she train her to forgive and forget so entirely. how dare she. and in the swirling heartbreak, olette finally rose, the feigned care removed to expose what lay beneath. contempt. disdain. harry felt no satisfaction as olette revealed the truth in a tumble of panic and desperation, there was no victory in being right, only the cold, uncaring pressure of reality.
❝ that's not your problem, ❞ harry said harshly, ❝ instead, i'm gonna give you what you've always wanted: i'm taking allie off your hands, ❞
harry's gaze bore into olette's, his anger and his hate stifling in the small space they found themselves within and there, beneath the lightning blue were two twin pinpricks of red threatening to peak out from behind his pupils.
❝ get out . . . ❞ harry's dismissed. he blinked and looked back down at allie. at her crestfallen face, at the way she's turned away from him, and how she felt heavier than she ever had before. harry didn't cast another look at olette as she crawled across the deck, scrambled to her feet and darted towards the exit. whatever hate and rage had spilled out from him faded as he looked down at allie, expression softened and twisting into something like regret.
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        she sobs into him, her hands still plastered to the front of her face, her body turned to face his chest completely, hiding. she doesn’t know why fighting doesn’t matter anymore.  “ it’s- it’s not real, it’s not real. it’s a dream. ”  every breath she takes is broken and shaky, one that makes all of her quiver.  “ this isn’t real. ”  it’s the worst nightmare she’s ever had. everything she had thought about growing up was wrong. her mother was everything. how much was a lie? the story today was a completely different side to the one she knew. it melted into the shattered cracks of what she had known, the one deep in her heart. it hardened into place strangely, like it was always meant to be there. but it felt ill fitting, allie desperate to make it untrue, but she fails. she can feel it breaking the rest of her, and now she was ruined.
        she’s exhausted, really. every bit of her droops, neglected and winter approaching. she can feel even more just moments from crashing down, shattering the rest of her until she was gone. it’s what she imagines happens when you get too sad, you just slip away like swept dust, floating up until the sun until no one can see you anymore. she can barely handle winter, and it’s even colder now. even darker.
        it happens too fast for allie to process it right. a horrible threat from harry that sends a cold so intense through her she thinks she can feel the tips of her fingers freezing, soft skin unprepared for the harshness of it. and then he kicks her mother again. and then the fear burns so bright allie can’t see anything else, she shakes with it and she can barely breathe. in that flash of feeling, it felt like he was going to take her mother away. everything in her seized up so tight she doesn’t know if she could ever relax again. 
        she’s turned away from him now, her fingers pressing into his arm, tight. she’s so- she hopes she never sees him again. and she prays he never lets go. it’s hard for any space to think of what he says, why he’s saying it, but there’s slivers of it. details that are so hard to remember she thinks she’s made them up. harsh and violent, like harry, only she’s always loved him for his heart. but she can’t see it now. “ no … please, no. please don’t, please- i’ll do- i’ll do anything, please, harry, please don’t. please don’t hurt her anymore- please … i don’t get it- i don’t get it. please. ”  she was so afraid for her mother, her begging came out raspy and breathy and desperate, and she could barely breathe. it feels worse than falling. scary falling, not the fun kind. and the landing is even more terrifying.
        her mother shifted. the violence, the threats, the door beginning to open was enough to make her loose. allie watched as the care dropped from her features. and she knew it was over. over like her mother, broken and out the door. it didn’t matter that she was hurt, or that allie was crying.  “ i made you forget about it, so many times. i took your memories away when they didn’t suit me. i knew you were too young for that kind of magic. i didn’t care. you were too young for a lot of things that happened. i let things happen, i didn’t care. and then i made you forget about it. it’s why you’re useless with remembering things now. ”  allie can feel the way her attention shifts back to harry, even if she feels like she’s drowning in her own head.  “ i don’t know how you’re going to get her to remember this. ”  and allie spirals.
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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we are testing smt out
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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the way i am so eyes emoji @ the dis galaxy / auradon being a planet and the isle being an asteroid prison. can you tell the public (it's me, i'm the public ;P) some more about this verse?
oh, yes! it's my marvel / dc verse thing. a lot of it's the same concept as d/esc canon except on a larger scale. auradon is a planet with an extremely unique and complex ecosystem of beings similar to earth populace / earth mythos / folklore. rumors circle that many auradon travellers settled on earth at some stage but there's no physiological or scientific evidence to back it up.
many of the " magical " beings and creatures native to auradon cannot survive off - planet, those that can lose their connection to their " magic " unless they are particularly powerful ( auradon does have issues with intergalatic poachers / trafficking and crack down harshly on those found committing such crimes ). the origin of their magic is closely intertwined with the natural magnetic fields, energies, etc of the planet and so going too far essentially cuts them off while beings made entirely of magical energies will cease to exist entirely once they go off - planet. hence why the former rulers imprisoned their criminals on an asteroid just outside the gravitational field of the planet.
some hybrid beings can draw on energies of their own physical bodies when off - planet but their abilities are nowhere near as powerful as they would be on auradon. this is why many magical beings and creatures just doen't leave auradon, they'll die, they have no reason to or they would be significantly weaker because of it.
timeline of events follow typical d/esc canon. ben is crowned, 4 isle prisoners are allowed entry to auradon, maleficent escapes and is defeated yada yada. king gets kidnapped during a visit to the isle, escapes, action is made to improve the living situation on the isle, some isle prisoners escape, auradon is saved, etc etc. things change post - d3, the blip cuts the populations of both auradon and the isle in half, gives ben the opportunity to allow second/third gen isle borns / raised to relocate to auradon, another couple years pass and then everyone is brought back leading to mass destabilization and revived anti - isle sentiment.
the isle gains their independence, the majority of their income comes from intergalactic business / trade / and mining of valuable minerals found only in the atmosphere around auradon ( negotiations were made between isle representatives / auradon to gain " ownership " of these particular minerals ). as the majority of the isle populace are either non - magical or are so used to being without magic that intergalactic travel is pretty easy to adapt to, most intergalactic involvement from the dis region is with isleites ( isle born/raised/imprisoned ), unless travellers are visiting auradon specifically.
auradon itself has a thriving intergalactic tourism industry marketed as being clean, pure, and, magical. this industry has been around for decades before beast became high king, it's only in the last 30-40 years that auradon has seated a high king and ben has only been high king for 7ish years but there's been a massive move to become more involved galactically. similarly, there's lots of export of auradon goods galactically ( though disclaimers are made of magical products not having the same effect off - planet ). it's also insanely difficult to get citizenship or live on auradon if you're not either auradonian or an islelite. visiting's fine, wanting to stay? lmao, not in your lifetime.
harry is a space pirate, leading a bunch of other space pirates. think treasure planet style space ships / travel and the isle is kinda like omega from mass effect. uma is pirate king of the isle, but they do have a stand in for when she wants to go out and be a menace to society.
there's probably more but this is all i can think of right now
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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c'est la pire sorte de voleuse - une voleuse de cœur.
an independent fandomless original character. est. 2013. by Hannah.
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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everyone had their monsters. things that kept them up at night, things that triggered panic and fear, things that made the world seem dark and cruel. harry had his, and allie had hers, the only difference between them in that regard was that harry knew who his was. her fingers curl into his shirt and harry could have easily lost himself in the sensation of allie tucking herself against his chest. he could have shielded her from every twisted thing, could have hidden her away in a glass cage where no one and nothing could ever hurt her. he could have kept her daydream alive and well, tended to it with expert care and kept her as his for as long as he wanted. but harry always preferred her free and leaving her to dream of a mother that loved and cherished her would serve only to chain her to a fantasy.
❝ that's a lie she told you, ❞ harry said through clenched teeth. forcing the truth out of olette's lying mouth was proving more difficult than harry would have liked. had his hands been free he surely would have pried the words from her already, instead all she provided were vague notions of things that were supposedly out of her control.
❝ if i split your head in two but no one remembered would i still have killed you? ❞ harry retorted sourly. he remembered uma saying something familiar, some philosophical question he never understood. if a tree falls in the forest does it make a sound? harry laughed, a sharp and humorless sound as olette ignored allie in favor for a sad attempt to shift the blame. again. ❝ how do you think i found you? all i had to do was follow the scumbags . . . they couldn't wait to tell me all about the things they done when they thought we shared the same tastes. ❞
allie wilted like a dying flower the longer she was ignored, the longer the conversation happens around her instead of to her and harry's frustration won out. again. his grip on allie tightened, holding her close, shifting just so as he stepped forward. a swift strike with the heel of his boot to olette's chest and she hit the deck, flat on her back. ❝ i'm getting impatient, olette. if you don't start telling the truth i'm going to have to put allie down and start getting creative with my hands, ❞
harry was no hero. he would be the first to say so, the heroes in fairytales never tortured others, they never made the princesses sob or scream, they never enjoyed the rush of power when their victims cowered beneath their boot. he'd be olette's nightmare and allie's too if it meant she would be stronger for it. ❝ the faster you talk, the faster i'll let you go, ❞ harry promised with only a hint of reluctance. torturing someone for information was a fine craft after all, people only co-operated if they knew it would end.
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        all she could hear is that he’s mad, and it was her fault. you’re so fucking pathetic, and all she hears is her mother. all she hears is the boy that she loves, upset, and it’s her fault. allie sniffles, and fights the continuous tears, one of her hands curl up in his shirt. she’s afraid to think, to even try to delve into the memories that harry knows. her stomach twists listening to him, talking about things she can’t remember in the slightest. she holds onto him like it’ll make any difference, like it’ll stop. she feels like she could slip into wherever her memories go to die, forgotten.
        her eyes, still wide with that confusion and the tears, search his features for the answer he wanted, only finding herself even more overwhelmed as she lets the word wings travel through her, igniting images that plague her through the night.  “ that’s not- that’s not fair, it’s a dream, harry, it’s not real. ”  her chest rapidly rises and falls for air, and she can’t find her breath. her hands move, instinctively, to hide her face, and she sobs into her palms.  “ it’s not real. ”  it couldn’t be. she couldn’t remember it. it was just a dream, like she prayed this was. she wished he would hurt her so she’d just wake up, she didn’t want to be here anymore. this couldn’t be her mother, this couldn’t be her harry. her back aches when she thinks of it, like they do after a nightmare. it’s not real. she’s defected, she knows it, and she doesn’t know if she can handle it to hear it again from her mother. allie doesn’t want to be here anymore. she wants to go home with her mom and be safe and little, even if it hurts. nothing could hurt more than this. it’s everywhere, spreading from her heart. 
        allie was sick, her mother wanted her away, the person who was the center of everything lied to her, she gave her away, and so much else that allie can’t understand. small, easy, needy, she doesn’t know how she could’ve been molded into something she’s always been. if she’s honest- and she has to be, because she loves him and she trusts him and she has to listen, she just has to -she can’t remember anyone else but her mother, but she remembers the feelings, the unrelenting rule that she had to be good when her mother was away. there’s something else, but her mother starts to talk before she can get there, and allie’s glad to be pulled away. it’s exhausting to be in her own mind. it’s even more exhausting to be stuck in this room, she realizes that each one is a prison.
        “ i didn’t do it, i just- i just needed a break, i didn’t care, but i didn’t- i didn’t do it to her and i didn’t do it on purpose. she doesn’t remember, so what’s the point? worse things have happened, she’s never been safe, or smart. i wasn’t there to know what happened, and neither were you. ”  her mother is ignoring her again, missing the presence of her weeping, wilting daughter, shriveled up in harry’s arms. allie can feel the absence of her gaze without looking, and it makes her want to die.  “ she’s always- she’s always been so sensitive, so in her own head, she could’ve been hiding from that. ”  she remembers being afraid, wanting to be good, memories of not being allowed to leave the cottage and young, gentle skin marred by bruises in shapes that she couldn’t recognize. 
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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allie had woven a beautiful net from the threads of her past, woven it around her shoulders in sunlight, gold and glitter. she hadn't known any better, that much had been clear to harry when she had spoken of the few things that had set her into despair. she pieced her past together, painted them into murals of beautiful things until the puzzle pieces fit into a pretty picture. it was a lie. the loving mother she had dreamed of, the past of pretty things, all of it had only been abandonment dressed up like an adventure.
❝ it's your problem now, ❞ harry said, his voice like shards of ice, ❝ you know more, i know you do. you would come back and allie would be hiding. you would see what they did to her, you'd see it on her face, you know exactly what happened, ❞ he couldn't hurt her, couldn't force the confession from her mouth with force. not with allie held in his arms, not with her light slowly but surely being swallowed by the dark.
❝ you're so fucking pathetic, ❞ harry said, disgusted. harry had been on the receiving end of hate for as long as he had been alive. his mother, whoever she was, whatever she had been, she had left him long ago because of that hate and his father had left his mark of hate on him and then some. the raised voice, the spitting vitriol, and the pain. the beatings that would leave him unable to move for days or weeks on end. the way that his fathers violence had been sudden and unpredictable, how his father's violence had trained him to always be prepared for the unseen lashing that would come from anywhere and at any time. his parents hatred was obvious. blinding in their disdain. but olette's was subtle. a slip of light in the dark, a quiet word spoken in the right tone. lani and henry had pieced those parts together where harry couldn't, exposing the rot beneath the carefully planted roots of olette's lies and abuse.
his name is a whisper and when he looked down to meet her eye, his expression . . . shifted. softened. and something like pity sat still upon his weighted gaze. ❝ you know the truth, allie . . . you've always known. what happened to your wings, dove? ❞
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        the only thing she could feel was her heart breaking, every word her mother spoke conducted another shatter, sharp and instant. something like a gasp gathered in her lungs, but she never let it leave. she couldn’t do anything, it was like she was stuck listening, but she couldn’t even do that well. completely helpless. she could heard the echo of everything, but it mixed up in her head, sent her thoughts scrambling and twisting and making allie feel dizzy. really dizzy. it’s then that she finds the shame, and she felt so, so little. all she wanted was her mother, the mother who was disappointed in her, the mother who scorned her. and it was all her fault. she had never felt it like this before, never for the people she loves. never. but now, even if she couldn’t understand it, she felt it. deep in her chest, burning warm. she loves harry, she’s not ashamed of him, but she feels it now, as she looks at her mother and begs with her eyes for her to forgive her.
        the shaking, trembling, quivering feeling that refused to leave her had begun to shake her whole body. harry was right. it was cold. he was too right. she couldn’t understand how he knew everything, things she didn’t know, things that made her sick to try and remember. she can’t listen anymore. his questions are too much, and she doesn't want to know the answers. the look on her mother's face, annoyance, this one she knows, sends all of it away.
        “ i’m sure she remembers being alone, ”  it sounds so mean. it sounds like things her friends have had to explain to her, tell her about.  “ i left her alone when i was gone, always. she knows that. ”  there’s a breath, like hesitation.  “ she wouldn’t remember anything else. you can’t- you can’t- you can’t expect me to remember anything else. i don’t know who was with her, or what they did. it’s not my problem. ”  her mother quickens like a heartbeat, the way she spoke. and even swallowed with sorrow, allie felt the panic seize her, too. harry was scaring her. it was how much he knew, that became so loud in her mind, and the terrifying empty space of missing memories became apparent.  “ i gave her away. ”  it felt like spilling now, and allie can’t pull away from how frantic she seems.  “ i didn’t want her, it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter what happens after. ”  allie watches as she turns cold, and she feels it in her heart. i didn’t want her. she heard it over and over and nothing else mattered. she wasn’t wanted. she was a bother. she wasn’t … it weighed so heavy on her chest, it felt like she couldn’t breathe. and it didn’t matter. it was her fault. her mother was right, she did always want. and still, it’s all she does. want and hope and pray to be loved, to be wanted. but-
        wings. she catches that late, too. she doesn’t have wings, she’s never had wings. she feels the panic now, clear and taking her breath away. allie looks up at harry, for the first time since she’s entered the room, eyes wide and filled with fear.  “ harry? ”  it’s all she can say, and it feels like she’s drowning.
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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there had been no other way, harry convinced himself while cradling allie in his arms. she had never looked smaller, never looked weaker, sadder, and more vulnerable than she did now. devasted in the heartbreak of a moment that stretched on for eternity and all she could do was hover within the shattering. he wanted to know what she was thinking of, wanted to know what memories were being dragged out into the light with every passing second, he wanted to know what truths were being unburied, what lies were being torn open. he wanted to know it all and knew that there was no knowing, not now, not yet, perhaps not ever.
olette spoke with the careless disregard of any parent found on the isle. uncaring, selfish, with no real concept of what she had done. there was no responsibility, no accountability, nothing at all that showed that olette had the slightest interest in admitting her faults willingly. ❝ you were such a difficult child, ❞ olette said, a sudden heaviness to her voice as she spoke, a feign of devastation that made the tension in harry's shoulder twitch. ❝ no matter what i did, no matter what i said, you just wanted . . . but it's not as if it matters. look at you now. ❞
olette flinched, watery blue eyes flicking up. her gaze lingered on him for only a second before she dropped her gaze to allie. a desperate and thinly veiled judgment tucked behind a grimace of feigned hurt. ❝ didn't i warn you about his kind? didn't i tell you to stay away from his sort? you used to be so afraid of pirates and iron, what happened to it? what happened to you? look what you've done to yourself, ❞
❝ you keep talking without saying anything, ❞ harry cut in sharply, ❝ you say you made her small, how? you say you made her listen, how? you say you didn't care who dealt with her, so who did you pawn her off to and what did they do to her while you were gone? ❞ the interrogation was easy. easier than looking at allie, easier than watching the tears flood down her cheeks, easier that focusing on the way that her small body trembled in his arms.
❝ why don't you tell allie about her wings? why don't you tell her what you did. ❞
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        she doesn’t know what to do with a heartache so large, so encompassing. it is exhausting, the energy feels like it’s fallen off of her in waves, and now all she can do is weep as she thinks of the lies, of the sick, of the neverending loneliness that had never left her, even if the strange, scary feeling that fluttering around while she thought of her mother did. her thoughts were sharp as they jumped around, too heavy to be as quick and racing as they are. an endless rotation, its thorns only catching on her soft skin, bleeding only by brushing against the memories, and the ones that seemed new.
        harshly, she’s fallen, and been caught from the nightmare all but flashing before her eyes. it’s harry, and she doesn’t even fight him. she can’t anymore, only lets him take her away from the ground, away from her mother. but at least she was in between them. at least she could keep her mother from being hurt again, help her. she had to. she had been useless, a dragging thing that only ruined, and held behind, and clung, ceaselessly. she understands why her mother left her out, why she lied, even if it was everything. she wished she could get every part of her to believe it true, but she couldn’t the dark, sick, lonely parts to devote themselves like allie wished them to.
        no matter her despair, and the hurt now tied tight around his name in her heart, and the other pulsing, bleeding feeling she doesn’t have the words for. she still finds comfort in his arms, her body relaxing against his chest, no more fighting. she was so tired, and sad, but the tension remained heavy in the air and she began to reach a point where the fast, afraid feelings just kept slowing down, lingering in place and sinking their claws into her.
        even hopeful, even waiting for her mother’s explanations, she could feel there was still more.
         “ you were too young for whatever i told you. ”  it felt like it was thrown, light, unimportant, but nothing allie could remember ever felt that way, truly. no matter what she told.  “ i don’t remember it all. i wanted you to be someone else’s problem. not mine. ”  she felt the sting of it, not being wanted, but she fought to keep it away. it was buried so, so deep entwined in every part of her. not her problem. her heart shattered at the thought, even further.  “ i made you small. i made you listen. i made you helpless. i made you desperate. i made you easy. i wanted you easy. i didn’t care who had to deal with you, what they did, as long as it was away from me. ”  it feels longer than it is, allie is always making things up, turning them into dreams. but this, this was her mother. she knew her, more than anyone ever could. allie watched her mother's face, watching the way it twists from the pain, still staring past her at harry. even now, with a confession that stretched and tangled like silky ribbon, she wasn't looking at allie. she would do anything for a look, just one. she felt in her chest, the feeling of crying harder, and the pile of things she was meant to forgive growing taller. she still couldn’t speak.
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tiderideraa · 6 months
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i'm feeling the urge to remake
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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What 'good things' that Harry's done is he most proud of (or, alternatively, which does he feel the most satisfaction about)?
as someone who's moral compass is fucked up, harry's "good things" are also objectively bad because they usually involve a lot of bad or morally corrupt things. but he feels proud of saving / rescuing others, putting himself in harms way to protect another is surprisingly satisfying to him ( this may also align with the power trip but he also feels good about the "hero" worship that can sometimes come from it ).
headcanon wise, he's proud of helping with the coup that ran ratcliff underground and allowed an isle born to take over management of the skin trade ( fairer treatment, earnings, safety, health / dental care etc ), being a part of organizing and uniting the fisheries among the sea faring community of the isle is also something he's proud of as it created legitimate avenues of employment while solidifying their position as an invaluable resource to the isle itself.
he is extremely proud of designing / helping to build / and distributing the isle's navy ships, designing the fort outposts around the isle, and keeping all of this hidden / a secret of auradon.
he's always satisfied about ruining the lives of anyone with anti - isle sentiments / beliefs, standing up for kids when they're being bullied / intimidated by adults will always satisfy him. treating his s/o's with respect, making them feel good, encouraged, safe, desired. he lives for that shit. leading his crew, when his crew come to him with their problems / issues, when he's respected by those he cares about. these are all things that he feels proud and satisfied about.
mostly he's proud of choosing uma as the person he would follow to the ends of the world. he knows that she's a good person, that she is a visionary, that she believes and has hope and will strive to make the world a better place for people like them.
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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Why does Harry get surprised when people feel safe with him?
he just doesn't think of himself as a safe person. he figures the closer people are to him, the more he can hurt them so when people feel safe around him even knowing that, it surprises him. that kind of trust comes with a lot of power and he kind of feels like they're giving him a knife and trusting him not to use it on them.
that and harry knows that he will do whatever he has to do to keep the people he loves safe, even if it's at the cost of losing them ( case and point, not giving ud a choice about leaving the isle & more recently, forcing allie to confront her mum & carlos trusting him to be there when he takes out his mum ).
don't get me wrong, he likes that people feel safe with him. he just never expects it.
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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of your past/present muses, who do you think harry would get along with best? least? who would he relate to most?
forgetting the assortment of crew member oc's i've made up, i think he'd get along with j.oseph k.avinsky the most. they'd make each other so much worse but at least they'd have fun, challenging each other and pushing each others buttons. they'd get along like a house on fire and they'd burn the whole street down.
another less volatile option would be maybe my witch oc margo. she doesn't have the power, violent or aggressive tendencies that harry is usually attracted to, but she's spontaneous, fun, daring, and she'd be easy to rile up / embarrass / fluster.
harry gets on least with my other oc cosmo s.tilinski. whenever they're both occupying my attention they're always butting heads. cosmo can't stand harry, he's a bully and all the loyalty in the world isn't going to change cosmo's mind on that. harry thinks cosmo's a rigid, boring, stick in the mud that doesn't know how to fight for what he wants. too passive. he enjoys pissing him off.
i need to keep them in time out corners.
he relates most to s.eth g.ecko, which he hates because seth is way too defensive and his temper is too similar to his dads. seth's been incarcerated, he's grown up surrounded by toxic masculinity, crime, violence, etc. he also relates most to j.oseph k.avinsky, their shared experiences are also very similar. both viciously abused by their fathers, father has tried to kill them, the only difference is that k.avinsky self-destructs and is an addict.
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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Under what circumstances does Harry allow himself to relax?
if he's with his s/o somewhere quiet and they're alone he can let himself relax almost completely. i've found that even if he's with the crew he's too aware of their surroundings and expecting someone / something to come at them. his role as enforcer and first mate means their safety is as much his responsibility as their actions so he doesn't really relax with the crew. he might if someone else has a close eye on them, like uma, but he wouldn't be able to relax for very long.
if he's alone ( rare ), maybe just relaxing on the beach, his quarters, on a skipper on the ocean etc. he'll also let himself relax. generally if he's around others / living things he won't be able to relax completely but yeah.
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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What's something Harry wants to learn, but maybe hasn't had the opportunity or the means to yet?
i want to say reading because that is the main one but he is kind of at a point where he can / is learning via rp dynamics and also just the time his default verses are set so it feels like a cop out answer.
riding a horse. yeah, that'll be another one for default harry ( modern harry for example knows how ). flying a plane / piloting. he thinks that would be fun. skydiving, surfing, he'd like to learn how to wrestle and just add that to the arsenal of fighting techniques. he wouldn't mind learning how to cook better meals, at the moment he just throws things together and it's a hit or miss ( aside from crab stew ).
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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What would Harry consider the most challenging fighting technique he's learned and why?
adding knees / kicking to his fighting style. harry grew up a boxer and sword fighter, primarily single handed short blades that relied almost solely on balanced footwork and hand / arm attacks. harry realized around 15 - 16 that he wasn't utilizing his whole body the way he could and that he was lacking in versatility and relying too heavily on his hands.
kicking and adding knees didn't come as naturally to harry until he was well into his teens and even then there was no one around him to teach him how to kick / knee while maintaining his balance, power, and not injuring himself.
it took years for him to train himself to use his legs in a fight, even longer for it to become natural to him but even now if harry were to become exhausted he will automatically fall back into the basics : boxing.
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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instinct and quick reflexes were all that had saved harry from the full brunt of the explosion. the sound of hard metal hitting concrete, the roll of tin, the sound of a click and harry had reacted before his mind had come to a complete conclusion. he had hit the floor, overturning a table moments before the explosion had hit. heat and a sudden ear shattering crack, and chaos had ensued.
harry had been resistant to tk's help at first, paranoia was a demanding thing after almost being blown apart, but he had figured that anyone that packed their own first aid kit in their bags had to know how to use it. ❝ you always this polite about taking a guys clothes off? ❞ harry asked, he'd noticed the same thing when tk had first approached him. who asked first before slapping a bandaid on someone that was bleeding profusely? harry took the scissors that were handed to him without argument, holding the instrument between his fingers and eyeing tk's practiced hands as he stripped away the cut fabric.
harry hummed when he felt the shards of metal peel out of him with the shredded remains of his shirt. the pain hadn't set in yet, only the heat of open wounds scattered all over his side and chest. harry peered down at himself, blood soaked pale skin red and pink, he could see open gouges and lacerations where he'd been sliced open, blood oozed from them in rivets.
❝ you don't have to worry about that, doc ❞ harry said dismissively, ❝ be as rough as you want, i'd rather be in pain than bleed out in the street. ❞
@tiderider / a bloodied shirt.
"Ahh." Shit. His hands were slippery with blood (one of the slipperiest substances on earth, he remembered absently, an echo of something Mateo had said once), and the dim lighting of the alley didn't give him much to work with in terms of visibility. The guy's shirt was soaked through, TK himself was scratched up and he didn't want to know what it was that had come so very close to his eye, so very close to blinding him (his own blood dripped, still, down his brow, making it harder, still, to see what was in front of him) -- and there was nowhere sterile to put these tools down. Had to keep a hold of them. Needed both his hands to treat the wounds.
His ears were still ringing, and while he was sure someone somewhere had called 911 (the bang), his own phone was busted. Making do with the not-so-shitty first-aid kit he'd had in his backpack, but it wasn't anything compared to the supplies he would have liked.
"I'm gonna take a look, OK? I gotta cut this off." The fabric scissors sliced through the guy's shirt with a little more tugging and pulling than they would have done if they'd not been packed into a little bag that had to be crammed at the bottom of his backpack, but they got through, and he passed them to this guy ("Here - hold 'em? Thanks, bud,") so he could, grimacing, work on pulling the fabric away from the wounds it was trying to embed itself in.
Some of the nails and scraps of metal came tumbling out with the material, caught in the mesh. Not good. Bleeding enough TK would've liked to be getting fluids in him, but nothing to do that with on-hand. Whatever his assessment was he kept it to himself, mouth pulling only once, at the corner (TK did not envy him), "How are you for pain? One to ten?" What amount of gentle did he have to be about the fact if he was gonna be pressing on these wounds, he was not going to be being gentle?
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tiderideraa · 7 months
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TUTORIAL: using discord webhooks to get tumblr notifications in discord
i’ve been using discord webhooks to get notifications in a channel of a personal server when i receive a new reply, asks, or a mention on any of my rp or personal accounts. you are also able to read the received asks & replies you get right in the discord channel.
since i have a fair number of separate tumblr accounts, it’s been a great feature to avoid having multiple windows or tumblr sessions open at once while still being aware of when i receive a new reply, ask, or follower.
not sure if this is something you’re interested in ?? examples of this in use are at the bottom of this post !!
written 06.16.22. last edited 09.10.23.
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