#conspiracy to blast in train

[soshadysoquiet]

An attempt to salvage S4, for your delectation. S4E6

And so we end. Watch my brain check out repeatedly trying to make sense of how the subway could work.

EPISODE 6:

Flashback to Five: Initially paranoid interactions with siblings post arriving in new timeline, trying to break into Reggie’s house, snooping around, waking siblings in the middle of the night to talk about increasingly wild conspiracies. Gradually, that eases, as he’s taken along on his siblings lives - there’s a baby, there’s Ben occasionally showing up to rub his fortune in their faces, there’s jobs and houses and relationships that he experiences in various states of sobriety and sanity. He sees opportunities in the library during his conspiracy investigations for programs to get GED and further education - he can become a real person, someone who exists outside of the apocalypse. So he does, but the space where it’s quiet in his mind gets filled with the Apocalypse, the deaths of his siblings, the paranoia. When Five’s with fam he’s fine, when he’s not, he drinks, sometimes it's both. He gets entrance tests to college/uni and gets a degree and gets hired all in record time - he’s busy. But when he’s not, when it’s back to the room of whichever sibling he’s bunking with or later in a string of short-term rental rooms, it’s the past - and he drinks. He drinks so he can sleep.

In present time we see Five and Lila tracking across the Apocalypse, she’s coaxing him, not far to go etc, he’s clinging onto her bruisingly and in a panic state but he keeps going. They keep going, through flashbacks of his siblings bodies, of images of himself starving, raving, crying. All the while keeping hold of sanity by Lila’s hand and arm clutched with his. They enter the subway, it all goes quiet, and he drops to the floor like a stone. Lila kneels down and holds him, saying they’ve made it, Five can just be heard mumbling ‘I know’ as he holds onto her very real body like a lifeline.

Viktor is shouting for Ben to try and control it, the Horror is going wild, Ben is terrified and in pain as the dark light seems to be swallowing him but allowing more and more of the Horror. Viktor is having to blast away some tentacles and is saying ‘sorry sorry’ to Ben and that he doesn’t want to hurt him. Jennifer is cowering and murmuring horrified phrases to herself.

Allison, Klaus and Reggie have heard the Horror’s roaring as it comes to life, its tentacles are bursting out of the academy and killing members of the Keepers. Reggie is shouting that they need to let him act and that Allison’s rumour is going to get everyone killed. Klaus just says to zip it Reggie and calls Dave, who says what’s happened and happening. Klaus makes him corporeal enough to go help protect Viktor, Allison rumours away The Keepers, but there’s pandamonium, she has to order people to help evacuate everyone as Klaus is summoning Ghosts to try and reign in the Horror and Abigail and Reggie say at the same time that ‘it’s too late.’

In the subway, they’re looking at the map Lila found in the subway Vs Five’s city map. They’re seen over a period of time debating, drawing all over the floor and walls, arguing, stopping each other from getting on the trains that are coming through, Lila re-focusing Five from looking back at the apocalypse, her going back up to relay the symbols from the front of the subway down to him instead of him going up. Gradually, after nearly a day, they have grouped together the stations by the symbols on the maps and trying to work out what the backwards-sounding announcements are saying.

Each train line is a different colour. Each station is a real place in the city. There are 43 coloured lines. The lines might intersect per station, end there, spawn multiple of the same colour or enter the station with multiples of the same colour and leave with less. Each station seems to be a disruption point in the Timeline. The circled symbols had a coloured background that related to one of the 43 line colours.

They go back to there being 43 children, if the line colour represents a different one of them, and at least one of the lines to This station has to be Five’s line.

So they just have to find the one that’s Ben’s line, follow that and see what we need to change. - They decide, and hop on a line.

Reggie and Abigail have a confrontation: R - you did this? A- I did what you should have prepared our children for all along! R- They’re hardly our children. Abigail says why not? They were born from my science, my work and then you raised them, and all you had to do was show them love. Love? He scoffs. Love doesn’t solve anything, it didn’t save you, in fact preserving you on the Moon clearly had an adverse effect on you, the woman I love would never have caused the end of a world! Abigail retorts that Love might not save the day, but it can save how you handle the day. Reggie doesn’t have a good comeback.

Allison and Klaus reach Viktor as the Horror is growing to the size go the room, Ben can’t be seen and Viktor is crying in a protective bubble of power, Dave has saved Jennifer in the corner and is getting her closer. Allison and Klaus shout where Ben is but Viktor can only point to the ben-size portal on the floor that is smothered with writhing tentacles and rapidly growing. Allison and Klaus are deeply upset but still focus on pulling Viktor out because the walls are becoming unstable as the Horror tries to escape the building it’s confined in as surely as the body it was previously.

In the subway Lila and Five are standing on the platform as they get off the latest train, both look a little worse for wear. Five is ruling out the colour of Luther’s lines along with a handful of others they’ve found - either naming them or numbering them if they’re members of the 43 they haven’t met. Lila is looking exhausted as they get on the train. Five checks what’s wrong, she is deadened as she says ‘it’s been six days. it's the longest I've been without them'. Five replies that compared to the apocalypse this is nothing, they’re making progress. Lila’s face crumples - she says what if they don’t make it back, if they don't fix this, then she’ll never be seeing her family again, Diego again, that they’re all she ever wanted and she’ll have lost them chasing adventure in the subway.

She starts to cry, and Five comforts her as the train sets off, holding her. Says they’ll make it home, we’ll be with our family. She says how can you know? He says because I won’t give up, and neither will you, they’re our family after all, and we can save them. Lila clings to him, manages to get herself back together and they exit the subway

Outside the subway there are screams as The Horror rips across the city. Lila isn’t laughing any more. The Horror’s sheer mass consumes the world around it through an immense portal. Guess we’ve found Ben’s timeline. Five says, Lila sob-laughs a bit, awestruck by the sight, and they retreat to find a different starting point for Ben’s line.

Diego and Luther swing by Diego’s house, they’ve picked up Claire from home and turn up along with Pogo, Sloane and Grace - there’s some time assuring the family, Diego hugging his kids, Luther and Sloane are having a debate on whether she wants to help the fight or stays here too. Grace meets them all pleasantly, and though they’re shocked at Pogo they accept him. Claire is made to stay there and that Pogo and Grace will help keep them safe. Sloane goes with them as they leave.

Reggie and Abigail are staring at the scene as Diego, Luther and Sloane turn up, and the other three are just escaping the house with Dave and Jennifer. (They all are shocked but pleased to see Sloane, Allison straight away hugs her. Klaus introduces Dave to Diego and Luther. Diego, in particular, says heard a lot about you man.)

They gather, and Five and Lila pop up-looking banged up. They look at the scene and comment that they guess it’s too late for Plan A. (Diego and Lila reunion) (Klaus re-intro Dave and Sloane saying hi until Reggie snaps at them all to please do focus!)

Others ask what they’ve found, they say that in every timeline, all of them, once the pair touch either Ben or Jennifer get killed, both do, or the Horror causes the Apocalypse. Five says that they never once think to save both of them after the fact. It’s the only anomaly, the only one that might work.

The others argue that Ben is gone, this thing is out there, that the only way they could survive last time was by killing off the Horror before it had even gotten this far are you telling us there was a way to save Ben all along? Five says there is, with her- points to Jennifer. She created the reverse portal, but if she was on the other side of that portal, then she could swap it back. Viktor -who had been silent before, looking at Abigail who is smiling- pipes up but how do we get there, Five says that luckily, Jennifer and Ben aren’t the only portals around, and gestures to himself.

The others kick up a fuss, that he’ll get trapped, he says not necessarily, besides it’s do or die people.

Reggie pipes up that they’d still have to prevent Jennifer and Ben from ever touching the Horror again, how will they do that if they’re alive. Viktor, breaking Abigail’s gaze, says that he can take their marigolds, once the swap is done, that without their powers they’ll live, but they’ll be safe. He's done it before.

Luther says that Ben would hate that.

More than being stuck where that thing came from? Viktor asks. They debate whether Jennifer will even help her, Five points out that they won’t need her to agree, so long as they take her with and bring Lila.

Lila says she doesn’t want to leave her fam or Diego though, that she’s done that once already and hasn’t seen them for two weeks now, she needs to be on this side protecting them - Diego soothes her, says that he won’t make her, he’ll go with Five and hold Jennifer at knife point if he needs to, but that if she does want to, he’d feel better with this plan knowing she was there with his brothers, because he trusts her, even if that scares him. Says can you trust me when I say I’ve already made sure our family are protected? She says she can, that she’d feel safer knowing that he was still here, fighting to protect them whilst she was away.

Allison says neither of them need to go, she will, her powers won’t help out here they didn’t do much the first time, but that she can make sure Jennifer plays ball, She's not letting the Horror kill her daughter. Jennifer pipes up saying will it help if she says she’s going to play ball? They all say no to her.

Viktor is decided as too effective to go to the other side, and might be the only one strong enough to completely blow up the Horror if they fail. Diego and Lila will stay and fight, so will Luther. Klaus says he want’s to go with Five and Allison, that it’s Ben and even if he’s an asshole, well, he’s Ben, there’s some stuff he wants to pay forwards. Allison asks Klaus if he’ll stay instead, so he can look after Claire if anything goes wrong, Diego says he should go with you, we’ll look after Claire they promise, and that Klaus has always known Ben best.

They all agree

So there’s a big fight between Luther, Sloane, Diego, Lila, Viktor and The Horror to hold down the fort.

Five, Klaus, Allison and Jennifer use a Combo of hers and Five’s powers and get pulled into the other side, the Horror’s realm.

It’s a dark ocean of writhing tentacles and they’re dropped into the mess. They can see where Ben is trying to claw at the portal alongside the behemoth body of The Horror, just his fingertips making it through. The horror is unimaginably vast, and its tentacles are poking through holes everywhere they can see - windows through Ben’s stomach into other worlds, all of time and space existing in The Horror’s dimension simultaneously, appearing and disappearing as specks whenever a timeline of Ben uses his powers, but all happening somehow at once.

They cry out to Ben to hold on. He looks up and begs them to help, but sees Jennifer and tries to get away, The Horror’s tentacles are lashing and it's difficult to get to him.

The fight on earth is messy and difficult. Reggie and Abigail die

They struggle to reach Ben who wants Jennifer nowhere near him - he’s exhausted from fighting against The Horror. Klaus and Allison calm him down and ask him to trust them as Five holds Jennifer from accidentally touching the tentacles until Ben agrees, without any rumours. They have Jennifer touch him, and the portal begins reversing.

The team on earth step up their desperate fight as they notice the difference, helping to beat back the Horror further and further.

The team with The Horror are now being inundated with tentacles, Ben thrown around, so they’re struggling to stay together but Klaus manages to float Allison over the water and they grab Jennifer, Five blinks to them. Ben’s in the in the thick of it as the portal reverses, screaming, but even as they other 4 and Dave are all caught and begin getting constricted together by The Horror, Dave holding it from crushing them best he can, Jennifer’s skin being covered by all of them so she won’t make contact with The Horror again, they say they can’t leave Ben here until they know he’s on the other side, so they’re just screaming encouragement at him.

The earth team are wrangling tentacles like pros and all get close enough to grab an emerging Ben with a hand, calling him. It’s only when Sloane grabs him, demands that he come back, she’s not loosing any more family, that his eyes open and he manages to snap the portal shut.

In The Horror’s realm they see Ben vanish, the Horror’s wrath is palpable and Five powers up so that Jennifer can reverse which dimension he moves through, they blink out just before they’d have been squished.

Ben falls into everyone’s arms as the others crash land back. Everyone’s exhausted, injured. Viktor manages to stagger upright enough to grab Ben’s arm. Says you know we have to take it out of you, right? Ben looks around at all of them, who have risked everything. Says ‘take it, I don’t need it anymore.’

Viktor pulls out the marigolds, exhausted, the others ask him to wait before doing Jennifer too, that it’s too much, but Viktor says ‘I’m ending this’ and takes Jennifer’s - he blacks out.

(I’m so tired after writing this that I’ll just say the ending would show them getting back to their lives - happy days!)

I know that a happy ending isn't for everyone but this is my S4 so that's what they're getting! Hope you enjoyed

[bonefall]

I hope you find a way to keep starclan involvement minimal because making them able to zoom call frostpaw so directly at any time raises the obvious question of why she (or anyone else in riverclan who wasn’t in on the conspiracy frankly) aren’t told who did it earlier

I’m curious if Splashtail was rejected for lives or if he refused to take them on principle

The solution is very simple. Most angels can't communicate directly! What's the point of speaking in omens and signs and prophecies if you can just say what you want

Between the realms of life and death is a sort of veil, like a strange, dusty membrane. A spirit can cross through it and try to influence the mortal plane, but it's got that disconnected feeling of working in heavy gloves.

Still, it's reliable to zip down and drag a couple of items to the nearest Cleric. They're trained in divination, learning basic systems for properly interpreting signs and omens.

The bright feather of a jay = StarClan is pleased with you

The dull feather of a jay = StarClan is disappointed in you

Hairstreak butterfly = Follow this

Snail shell, swirl-up = Yes

Snail shell, swirl-down = No

Trying to chat casually is AWFUL. Have you ever been asleep, and someone started trying to tell you something or command something of you? Sometimes you'll remember it, other times it just ends up warping whatever dream you were in, but most of the time you'll catch absolutely NOTHING. That's what it's like when gramma talks to you.

It's easier to connect to spirits you knew in life, or have a kinship with. Strong emotions make this more powerful. Rituals, like invocation (calling StarClan to connect the ancestor to you), channeling (directly contacting the spirit, usually via a sacrifical object), or prayer (catching the attention of a spirit) can strengthen the connection, but there will always be that veil.

Think of spirituality kind of like a stat. In life, having a huge number means you're really good at receiving messages and understanding intuitively if you're near something supernatural. In death, you're better at sending them and what exactly will get through.

Other assorted tidbits in closing;

More powerful spirits have a higher "stat" in spirituality, but they're also usually more disconnected from the mortal they once were.

Skystar, Patron of War, could pretty directly tell you what the confusing omen means...

But. He's very likely to angrily blast you with a lightning bolt for asking him to do something he sees as beneath him.

Thankfully this is why Invocation is helpful. If you tried to invoke someone who would get angry you're bugging them, the "call" won't go through.

Thanks to Clan cat ego and shifting popularity, good patrons often go uncontacted because they're less "cool" or unpopular. Pinestar actually got a lot of mileage out of his invocations of Bumble.

SPIRITS ARE INDIVIDUALS. Even when they've hit godly status and are distant from mortality, StarClan is not as united of an entity as it presents.

StarClan is not a fair or rational entity. It's the most powerful ancient spirits remembered over many decades, and a bunch of recent dead relatives a few generations behind the living.

Lizardstripe understands it best; the lower angels make a jury and a crowd and the patrons are the court staff.

The younger spirits are more connected to the living, but the older spirits have more functional power to pass on accurate signs

Ancient patrons, especially the founders, tend to not give a lot of "personal" attention to prayers, and when they do answer they tend to be cryptic. They are very disconnected from their mortal selves, more legend than life now.

Riverstar in particular is notorious for this. As the Patron of Water, he's essentially an abstract concept, on top of being a mysterious and wise person when he was alive.

Angels of all levels are perfectly capable of acting alone and messing things up, though. Birchface actually sent the sign that wound up getting Mapleshade’s kittens drowned, and he's just kept quiet about it out of fear this whole time.

Spottedleaf was UNRIVALED in her connection, both in life and in death.

Firestar doesn't know how she made it look so EASY... and he's also got a good connection, himself. He wishes he had more time to learn from her.

Shadowsight got his incredible connection by being tormented by Ashfur. He blasted him with lightning and turned him into a living radio tower.

If Ashfur and his accomplices hadn't blocked off StarClan, Shadowsight would have been more haunted and hounded than Goosefeather. They were the only "signals" he was picking up

(And then Ashfur ate all his accomplices anyway.)

SO those sorts of stunts are not pulled often. You need to be extremely powerful to alter the living like Ashfur did to Shadowsight

(In case you're about to ask; Goosefeather was likely either a mistake or an accident, unless I end up tweaking his story later)

The only time where you're guaranteed to be able to directly, perfectly talk to any cat is during a leadership ceremony. It's considered too sacred and personal to burden with commands, because the leader will only ever experience this once.

Going through the Moonplace is actually not a guarantee! They send very strong dreams to those who visit, more like TPB than later arcs.

As for why ghosts don't just reveal their murderer-- in addition to how hard it actually is to speak directly, most murderers simply take precautions.

It's known StarClan can be watching, but there are also demons to channel. There are rituals to ward watchful eyes.

Can't reveal your murderer if you don't know who killed you.

If you're Redtail in particular and your incredible sister breaks the law to summon you directly for answers, you actually waste the entirety of the time you got to yell at her about using the wrong method <3

But in a nutshell; no more zoom calls. You will STRUGGLE for your divine revelations and only end up receiving them when you've royally pissed them off the way God INTENDED

(also i think in the wind excerpt it said that splashtail rejected them outright, but I haven't read the whole book yet)

[pepsiiwho]

Louis wip....

(MC known as Galileo, this takes place around when you're first invited into his gauntlet runner)

“They all think you’re a tryant” Galileo murmers, too busy watching Louis’ perfectly manicured hands pick at the citron’s rind. They never done this before, just sit in each other’s quiet company, but it was startlingly easy. Louis had a way of lowering your defenses when he wanted to, shedding the image of a cold killer as easily as he does his massive coat and military garb; without the thick fabic of his actions weighing on his frame, sculpting him into a monster— he almost looks Elda. 

Louis hums, bouncing his folded leg a bit and balancing himself on the table’s edge. He looks up at Galileo once, fleetingly, with those bright blue eyes of his, before going back to the fruit. It gives to his nails first, the tough skin pierced by dull force, little cresent moons indented in the parts of rind that didn’t give way immeidetly. “I think them sheep. We’re all allowed our opinions”

It was odd. He’d never seen Louis kill or harm or maim, only having heard of his kingslaying and blatant disregard for life second hand, but now it was difficult to imagine him harming much of anyone. He looked tired, and soft, in his much too large office with only a few candles to light his face. His horns bracketing his head like a halo, nestled into the long, thick train of hair he usually wore so librarlly. Tonight it was pulled back, fastened into a messy ponytail. 

Galileo didn’t think Louis [Last name] even knew what a ponytail was. Let alone how to fashion one on himself.

His staring is paused when Louis finally reveals the meat of the citron, the heavy sour scent of the fruit filling the space between them. It bleeds onto the Clemar’s palm, droplets of juice catching under her nail before bending around the citron and catching at the bottom, waiting for gravity. Does he kill like this? Galileo asked himself uselessly. Did he rip skin from bone expertly with such practice it seems uniform and right? Such ease you doubted the pain inflicted? The thought was as concerning as it was eye opening. 

Before he can follow that trail, inist upon an answer that’ll satisfy, Louis picks one of the sections out of the fruit and hands it over– a little wedge between pointer and thumb. “Here”

“I don’t like Citrons” 

“This is unlike any citrus you’ve had before. It’s a new breed, an original”

It’s poisoned, his brain supplies uselesly. He’s found us out and now plans to kill you, as proof that he can, to end this blasted conspiracy. The voice sounds like Gallica’s, the little bell of her whisper echoing loudly. 

But Louis, the man who kills humans like its nothing, towering over any and all who apose him, could kill Galileo whenever he wanted, with little fanfaire. A poisoned fruit seemed beneathe even him. 

So Galileo takes the fruit, and pops it in his mouth. It is, inexplicably, sweet. 

“What did you say this was?”

Louis smiles, his eyes sqinting ever so softly. He looks pleased, amused rather. “I’ve coined them as ‘clementines’—”

“After ‘clemar’?”

The pause that follows is unexpected, he’s never seen Louis not speak without purpose. It feels like a volley going back and forth, this conversation of theirs. “No. Not after clemar” 

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Wanderer: Homesick

This one's a side-story for something I submitted for a magazine... Enjoy! (Also warning for angy teen girl swearing)

I sat on the train, cheek pressed to the icy glass. Trees sped by me, a swathe of verdant greens and deep browns. The leather of the couch gave way under my knees, and I dug into it with my fingers.

I'd been scratching dates into that seat, one for each day. The entire couch was covered in etches now, cross hatching as far as the eye could see. Having counted them, I could safely say they totalled up to 730 marks. That would be two years.

Two years since I'd seen my parents. Two years since I'd seen my home. Two bloody fucking stupid years! Even thinking about it, I wanted to scream.

The goddamn train's incessant noise grated on my ears. If I had to see its gaudy golden facade again, I would gouge my eyes out. Every single destination along the damn train's mercurial routes was a godforsaken shithole! 

Oh my gods, I hated it. I hated it in ways no human could truly express. I'd tried, of course. I wrote emo poetry, sang off-tune songs, and when all failed, screamed incoherently into the endless void. To truly understand the depths to which my sanity had fallen, one must first endure this abomination:

Roses are blue

Violets are red

Fuck this shit

I want it dead.

It's likely the closest I've come to conveying my frustrations. It's also likely the closest I've come to convince my fellow wanderers that I've gone mad.

Did I mention the wanderers? They're the worst. The absolute worst. Psychos, the lot of them. We had Mr ‘Maya-be-a-lady’, Ms Magic-is-real-and-birds-are-a-conspiracy, Dr I-drown-babies-for-fun, and worst of all, Mx Doppelganger. Creepy ass bitch.

If I could meet whatever bitch put me in here, I'd tell them one thing: Fuck you. Fuck everything. Fuck the stupid train, the stupid people on it, and the stupid fucking places I kept getting dumped into.

I hate it all so much. I just want to go home. You know what I've missed in the past two years? My friends will have graduated. My cousin's probably turning two soon. I'm supposed to be in the University of Kristiania by now! 

Everything I've ever worked for has been washed away. What was the point of learning trigonometry when the only triangles I'm ever going to see belong to interdimensional horrors trying to eat me?! I was set to win last year's Informatic Olympiad. I was so close.

But that's not the worst. (Oh gods, how bad is my life, that losing my future isn't the worst?) The worst is homesickness. I want to hear Qi's whining over her crappy grades. I wanna listen to Pam bitch about her latest boyfriend. I want to come home and eat my mom's porridge and study maths while metal blasts in my headphones. 

I want the good and the bad. I don't care if I get yelled at by Mr Lim for failing physics again. I'd probably hug old Aunt Beatrice if she showed up and called me fat. Hell, I would give anything, anything to have my glasses broken by a stray football again, even if the glass goes into my eye.

I miss home. I… I hope I can go home soon. (Oh gods, I'm pathetic.)

Fun fact: She did not get to go home soon.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[tempestswing]

Ranking the Dark Council:

hi! I was writing some notes for a piece of SWTOR fiction I am working on, and decided to create this list as a fun way to share that information.

Dark Council Pre-Shadow of Revan:

12. Darth Aruk - we know nothing about this character, other than that they were head of the Sphere of Sith Philosophy. According to the Wiki, rooting out Revanites was supposed to be their job. What a failure, hopefully they still have a job after Shadow of Revan?

11. Darth Rictus - Also kind of a mystery, which is ironic since he was head of the Sphere of Mysteries. Rictus does appear in a novel called 'Annihilation', but that book is mostly about Theron Shan. All we really know about Rictus is that he's (A) old, (B) dislikes aliens, unless they're murderous enough, and (C) founded the Dread Executioners to take down the Dread Masters. Not enough information to rank any higher.

10. Darth Acharon - at least this guy appears in the game. He's kind of a nothing character though. He defended the imperial occupation of Corellia unsuccessfully. He was head of the Sphere of Biotics. Since he died on Corellia, he would presumably have been replaced by Shadow of Revan, but we don't know who by.

9. Darth Arkous - hate this guy, but he's still technically head of the Sphere of Military Offense after the Hutt Cartel plotline. God, what a bag of dicks he is though. The one good thing about this character is that he's technically Lana Beniko's master? Although she's an advisor rather than an apprentice, so he gets no credit for the existence of awesome Sith wife.

8. Darth Decimus - Also found in game on Corellia! Decimus is actually present in the imperial quests, so you get a lot more interaction with him than Acharon. Canonically, he also trained Krovos! Krovos is really cool, so decimus should get a few points by association. Not enough to bump him up the list though. For the head of Military Strategy, he's not a very good commander.

7. Darth Ravage - You can meet Ravage at the end of the Inquisitor and Warrior storylines, and for all imperials he is present during the cutscenes preceding the Emperor Malgus flashpoints (although does nothing to help?). The main reason I'm putting Ravage so low is that he's a little bit inconsistently written. He'll gladly say "good riddance" to Darth Thanaton's death in the inquisitor plotline, but if you kill Baras in the Warrior plotline, he'll show up at Nathema and be all offended that you claimed power by murdering your master... does he know what a Sith is?

6. Darth Mortis - I have a bit of a soft spot for Mortis. He's got a no-nonsense demeanour which is rare amongst Sith, and he's clearly serious enough about their philosophy to join a secret conspiracy against the alliance if you "squander" the power of the Eternal Throne - a petty move, this man is a bitch after my own heart. He also is the one who snaps Darth Thanaton's silly little neck, which definitely earns him a few points in my eyes. As a point, he's involved in the Macrobinocular missions, which I did not enjoy, but he was a highlight of the questline.

5. Darth Acina - WOMEN IN POWER!!! Empress Acina is better than Emperor Vitiate. Unfortunately Acina is kind of bland, I really don't feel strongly about her either way. I've killed her on Iokath in most of my playthroughs, even if I don't intend to defect to the republic later. I might be lesbian but I just don't like her that much. Her reforms to the Empire are interesting though, I do have to give her credit for making the Empire slightly less racist and Sith dominated.

4. Darth Vowrawn - Silly guy!! This man is genuinely quite funny. He's a blast to spend time with at the end of the Warrior story, after dealing with Baras' grumpy ass for close to fifty levels. His choice to help the Wrath with the Hand on Rishi says... something. He's genuinely an interesting character to me, especially since he maintains that joviality when he becomes Emperor. It's tempered, to be sure, but I think it does show it wasn't entirely an act. Vowrawn could be a genuine friend to the Wrath.

3. Darth Jadus - Sue me, I like unapologetically evil characters. Jadus is not just an evil clown, he's an evil circus. Schemer to the core and melodramatic as fuck. I chose to serve him without a second thought in my agent playthrough. I appreciated the name drop on Iokath and I have 1% chance 99% cope that he will return at some point in the story.

2. Darth Occlus/Nox/Imperius - OCs are fun. No further notes. I should probably drop the lore for my verison of this character, huh... maybe in another post.

Darth Marr - Everyone's favourite tired Dad just trying to keep his society from collapsing as his colleagues bicker about inane bullshit. I reckon he drinks coffee straight outta the pot in the Dark Council's break room. I really wish he hadn't died, but his force ghost shenanigans were neat and I liked seeing him find a measure of redemption. Again, I am on a high dose of copium but if Malgus can return after being killed and abandonded on an exploding space station why can't someone scrape Marr off the floor of Zakuul and rebuild him. I do also low-key ship Marr with Satele Shan?

anyway, that's my totally subjective ranking of Dark Council members.

[writing-whump]

The ache on the inside

Matt meets Shawn and has some thoughts about it. Some angst and comfort.

"I can't believe the Executioner is making me breakfast," Shawn said with a dreamy smile, leaning his head on top of his entwined hands.

Isaiah sighed. "It's too early for the restaurants to be open." Which was better than acknowledging that cooking was an extremely unusual skill for wolves to engage in.

Shawn was giving him those knowing long looks, his eyes too wide and his teeth flashing when he smiled.

"It's just eggs and tomatoes. Get over yourself," Isaiah said as he served it from the pan onto the plate in front of Shawn and turned to boil some water.

"I didn't get a homecooked meal for ages." Shawn poked into the steaming bright yellow and red mix with the fork enthusiastically.

"What exactly do you eat on your travels? Do you hop from one restaurant to the next?" Isaiah leaned back against the counter with his hands crossed.

"Just so you know, people can do wonderful things from instant and powder foods." Shawn got way too much on his fork, stuffing his cheeks, comically resembling a hamster.

"I don't want to know," Isaiah said dryly.

"It's that big brother persona speaking," Shawn managed to comment before gulping down and stuffing another forkfull in his mouth.

A thumb from the door alerted Isaiah to Matthew returning from his run. That's why he wasn't sitting down. He intercepted Matt right when he came around the corner, sweaty sleeveless shirt and shorts and all, clasping his shoulder.

"Matt, this is Shawn. Shawn, this is my second, Matt." He gave Shawn a stern look so the wolf didn't say something careless. Fortunately he still had his mouth full. "Stay here for a bit. We are going on a little walk." Before Matt got over his shock and registered Shawn's shadow. Or identity.

Shawn regarded them with a sly grin but Isaiah didn't miss how his eyes narrowed that he introduced him to Matt first nd not the other way around.

...

"I'm sorry, he is a what now?!"

Isaiah braced his elbows on his knees. They found a nice bench on top of a hill with a great view. It was still early enough that they were alone and could see whoever was nearing from hundred meters away.

"Johann Minz, yeah."

"That Johann Minz? The Minz first in line? What? What?"

Isaiah shrugged. "I didn't know he would come." In hindsight, it made sense, though. Shawn had always appeared when things were at their most fragile, as if he had some instinct for when Isaiah’s world was on the verge of cracking.

"But do you know why he came? All the way over here?" Matthew paced around the bench, not being able to sit down. His red hair shimmered in the sunlight. "It doesn't make any damn sense. What does he want? What's the big plan here?"

"Relax. It's not a conspiracy or anything. He came for a visit from the states and heard from his network where I was so he flew right over for a visit." Isaiah was still a bit worried about that mysterious 'someone' Shawn mentioned earlier.

"And you left him there alone with Sel," Matt said in an accusatory tone.

"He wouldn't do anything. Besides, if he as much as pulls his shadow out, I'll know. Not to mention that Seline around sea? She can blast him from the window if she wishes."

Matthew peered at him with raised eyebrows in silence for a few stunned seconds. "You trust him that much? How do you even know him?"

"Heirs of big named packs all know each other. Contacts and stuff." Shawn was not the only big heir put in his vicinity since young age.

Not that it mattered to him, but Matt was from a big named pack himself. He would have been the Blackwell heir if he wasn't kicked out at 14. His mother effectively took away his training, contacts and opportunities that should have been his by right.

"I don't like him. He has been spying on us? Shows up out of nowhere? Wouldn't trust him the nose between his eyes. He is weird."

"You have met him for 10 seconds."

Matt threw out his hands. "He is a foreign wolf and you see each other for a couple of days every few years. That doesn't make him trustworthy, okay?"

Isaiah grimaced. He didn't like the implications he wasn't being cautious enough.

Matt still stared at him as if waiting for an answer. "Well?"

Isaiah looked down at the sea glittering under the hill. It was so vast and wide he couldn't see the end of it on the horizon. "Couple of weeks after I left the Wolfsons, he came to visit me," he said finally.

Surprised flashed through Matthew's face before his eyebrows drew together.

A long minute of silence passed between them.

"You know...what was Hector's first question when he found out about me challenging and defeating dad?" Isaiah snorted unhappily to himself, eyes still locked on the sea. "How could I betray father like that."

Matthew clenched his teeth with an audible click.

"You know what Shawn asked me? How did father betray me so badly to push me to do such a thing."

Shawn wasn't there to witness it. He didn't live with Isaiah the way his brothers did and yet he could see it. Maybe he could see the striking difference between Isaiah then and from 5 years earlier.

The happy and proud son who loved his father and learned everything from him. And then the Exectioner who had deaths and lies and humiliation behind him just to cover for a father who hurt him out of pleasure.

Another long pause. Matthew blew out a long breathe and sat down on the bench next to him heavily.

"You think that makes me biased and easier to manipulate?" Isaiah said softly. He thought he could handle the conversation well, but his insides felt shaken.

"Nah, Zaya, that's not what I think." Matt copied the direction of his gaze. "You...never talk about that time. Are you saving it for the shock value when I disagree with you on something?"

Isaiah couldn't help but chuckle.

Matthew sighed again, then draped his arm on the backrest behind Isaiah. Offering closeness but not forcing it.

Isaiah took slow, deep, carefully measured breaths. His chest felt tight again and his heart was doing those painful flip flops. If he didn't calm down soon, he might have to take a pill for it and he didn't want to rely on it that much. Or draw attention to his need for it.

Their earlier conversation with Shawn flickered in his mind. Yes, he did feel more comfortable sharing something like this with Matt or Sel than he did with Hector or Arnie.

But he didn't think it was because Hector was on the same level as him. Couldn't it just be that he trusted Matthew more? Or that he felt too protective of his younger brothers and of his image in their eyes?

Or was it because of the specialised training that Hector had and Matt didn't, the one that would allow Hector to see things Matt wouldn't know were his deficiencies?

He cleared his throat roughly, feeling conflicted and guilty and stupid and way too much in the line of fire.

Isaiah shifted, feeling the weight of Matt’s arm behind him. It was a miniscule movement. Just a bit of sliding back and brushing against Matt's arm. That's all it took for the red wolf to throw his whole arm around Isaiah's shoulders and squeeze him against his side.

It was almost too much, the ease of it.

"Okay. We are okay." Matt didn't look at him and Isaiah didn't either. It was emberassing enough.

He translated the words to himself as: Whether the intruder can be trusted or not, we will handle it either way.

[exhausted-archivist]

Cassandra Pentaghast Timeline

A summarized and organized timeline of Cassandra's life. Summarizing the major points of Dawn of the Seeker; such as naming characters and such key events.

Warning in advance about some spoilers for Absolution as I quote a couple lines in the notes section.

9:04 Dragon

Cassandra is born in a carriage halfway between Cumberland and Val Chevin. She was raised in her family estate in Nevarra City until 9:10 Dragon.

9:10 Dragon

Lord Matthias and Lady Tigana, Cassandra and Anthony's parents, are executed by King Markus Pentaghast for taking the wrong side during the second attempt to overthrow the king. Cassandra and Anthony were spared from execution thanks to their uncle, their father's brother, Vestalus who was a senior member of the Mortalitasi who vouched for them and took them as his wards.

Cassandra and Anthony were moved to the Grand Necropolis in Nevarra.

9:12 Dragon

Vestalus was promoted to prelate of the Mortalitasi and overseer of the Grand Necropolis. This left Cassandra and Anthony by themselves more often, leaving them in isolation save for Nomi in the Chantry where Cassandra devoted her time.

Anthony and Cassandra started training in swordsmanship with asperations to becoming dragon hunters.

9:16 Dragon

Cassandra, at the age of 12*, witnesses her brother Anthony; a renowned dragon hunter, get beheaded at the hands of blood mages.

Cassandra begs to join the Templar Order when faced with a lack of justice for Anthony. Her uncle instead sends her to the Seekers of Truth.

She begins her training at the Seeker fortress of Montsimmard as an apprentice to Seeker Byron, a senior member. He focused on her religious education rather than her martial education.

9:19 Dragon

At the age of 15, Cassandra is the youngest Seeker to go through her vigil since the Storm Age. Her vigil takes place in a remote castle located within the Blasted Hills of Northern Orlais and lasts for two weeks.

9:22 Dragon

The following are the events of Dawn of the Seeker that take place. This is the briefest of summaries.

Cassandra and a group of Seekers attack a group of blood mages who abducted Avexis, an elven mage from the White Spire who has the ability to control beasts. The blood mages use a ritual to extend that power to controlling dragons. Byron, Cassandra's mentor and father figure, reveals to Cassandra a conspiracy within the Chantry as he is leaving the fortress with Cassandra and Avexis.

The three are attacked by blood mages, in wich Byrion dies and Avexis is kidnapped again. Cassandra is branded a traitor. Regalyan, a friend of Byrion and the contact they were to take Avexis to, is captured by Cassandra under the suspicion he is a blood mage. The pair is then captured by Templars and eventually make their escape. Cassandra's goal is to clear her name and discover proof of the conspiracy.

The conspiracy is that Knight-Commander Martel and Grand Cleric of Orlais, Callista, are working with the blood mages who intend to attack the 10 year gathering at the Grand Cathedral. Grand Cleric Callista and Knight-Commander Martel intend to unleash dragons on the Divine and gathered Grand Clerics during the ceremony so that Callista may become Divine as the last remaining Grand Cleric.

The conspiracy is thwarted by Cassandra, Regalyan, the Circle Mages, and additional Seekers. Cassandra kills two dragons and a high dragon. Saving the Divine.

As a reward for their actions, Cassandra is made the Right hand of the Divine and declared Hero of Orlais.

After the ceremony, Divine Beatrix III speaks with Cassandra about how the attack on the Gathering was only the beginning. Insisting that the Chantry must prepare for the coming storm before placing the holy writ into her hands. The writ that grants the Right and Left Hands of the Divine the authority to restore the Inquisition.

9:34 Dragon

Divine Beatrix III dies and Divine Justinia V is elected. Upon election, Divine Justinia V made a bit to retain Cassandra as her right hand. Pitching to Cassandra the multiple aspects of reform of the Chantry she wanted to do. Which Cassandra met with intrigue and accepted the role once more.

Leliana sent Cassandra a letter that speaks of her observations and how she welcomes the opportunity to work with Cassandra.

9:39 Dragon

Cassandra writes a letter to the now Lord Seeker Lucius, declaring she will not be joining the Seekers and will continue to work with the Divine.

There is an error with this as the Mage-Templar War didn't start until late autumn or winter of 9:40 Dragon. Seeker Lucius doesn't take over for Seeker Lambert until after the events of Asunder where Lambert is killed by Cole at the end of the book a few months later. Leaving the date of this letter to be 9:40 or 9:41.

9:40 Dragon

Cassandra interrogates Varric following the outbreak of the Mage-Templar War.

9:41 Dragon

Cassandra brings Varric and Cullen to Haven with Leliana, they both miss the chance to join the Divine at the beginning of the Conclave as they were delayed.

The Breach opens up and Cassandra leads soldiers into the valley to look for survivors. Her soldiers find the player character (PC Herald/Inquisitor) and the events of Inquisition begin.

Cassandra advocates with Leliana to approach the rebel mages for support with closing the Breach. If the player goes to Redcliffe and sees the situation, Cassandra's opinion will change to supporting the Templars.

Cassandra is investigating the disappearance of her fellow Seekers, her theory is they are prisoners of Corypheus.

Evidence is found that Samson/Calpernia sold the Seekers to the Order of Fiery Promise after finding out that the Seekers are resistant to red lyrium.

When Cassandra investigates the castle of Caer Oswin after tracking the Seekers there, she discovers that her apprentice Daniel, has been implanted with a demon and fed red lyrium. At this point, she discovers that it was Lord Seeker Lucius wh sold the Seekers to the Promisers and has been operating there the whole time. Cassandra then confronts Lucius and kills him in battle.

Procuring the Book of Secrets from the Lord Seeker, Cassandra learns the truth about the vigil. That Seekers were made tranquil and that it was only reversed once they were touched by a Spirit of Faith. This is what granted them their abilities and restored their minds. A fact she learns all Lord/Lady Seekers have known up until this point, and that Lord Seeker Lambert actively hid from the Divine.

Cassandra considers finding the scattered Seekers, reading the Book of Secrets with them, so there are no more secrets between them and establishing a new charter. She also wishes if there is a way to refine the process of reversing Tranquility on mages without the dangers that come with them being overcome by their emotions. The PC character will determine whether she actually does reform the Seekers and investigate the rite further.

If Divine:

Cassandra is said to enact reforms for a new Templar Order and Circle of Magi. She rebuilds the Seekers of truth and rededicates them to protecting the innocent, if the player encourages her. Her attempts of reform are controversial despite her popularity though are generally seen as successful efforts to stabilize peace.

If Not Divine:

She takes the position of advisor on the Divine's council, giving advice on important matters to Divine Victoria. Depending on if the Divine is Leliana or Vivienne dictates how long she stays. If the Divine is Leliana, she stays and works well with her as Cassandra holds respect for Leliana. If Vivienne is Divine, Cassandra eventually leaves disgusted, feeling that Vivienne is perverting the Chant of Light's intent.

9:42-9:44 Dragon

If Cassandra is Divine, she is working on efforts to clean up red lyrium and stating that it is going well.

If Cassandra is not Divine, and she is encouraged to rebuild the Seekers; a month before she returns to Orlais for Trespasser she is in the Hunterhorn Mountains tracking down Seeker Emery and finding leads on other Seekers in Rivian.

If Cassandra is not Divine and wasn't encouraged to rebuild the Seekers; she is in the port of Antiva City and completing a survey and establishes that there are no further signs of Fade energy or demons since the Inquisitor closed a rift there in the Spring. She confirms the Inquisition mages deem the Veil stable in the region. Cassandra also confirms that at this point, all rifts have finally been sealed.

Unclear

At some point, Cassandra aided a reaver named Nyree in defeating her first dragon. By doing so Nyree completed her Rite of Passage.

At some point prior to Cassandra's interrogation of Varric, the Seekers investigated the Vimmark Mountains that housed Corypheus and were turned away by the Grey Wardens and were told that everyone who had been in the prison were dead. Unclear if Cassandra was part of this investigation.

At some point in 9:41 during the Inquisition, Cassandra orders Sidony to return to Nevarra City and stop a Mortalitasi plot that is seeking to assassinate a member of the very unstable line of succession.

It is unclear when this occurred, as Absolution happens after Trespasser and that is about all that is established.** Cassandra and Leliana dispatch Fairbanks and Hira to steal an artifact from the Tevinter Imperium, the Circulum Infinitus.

Notes:

* Cassandra tells Sera that she was trained as a Seeker since she was 6. This is in conflict with a letter from Cassandra's uncle to the Seekers stating she was "even at the tender age of twelve, is too old to begin training with the Seekers". This is reinforced though dialogue the PC can have with her where she establishes she was training with the Seekers at a far older age than most recruits, and was able to do so because of her status.

** The Interview establishes this (emphasis by me)

"Despite its relative proximity to Dreadwolf, though, Absolution intentionally doesn’t try to use its time establishing any real sort of canon for players to latch onto. Some characters from the prior games show up for a spell, and events are broadly mentioned, but Epler (who also serves as Dreadwolf’s creative director) admitted that it was important to avoid setting a definitive canon." He acknowledged it as a “tricky balancing act,” in part because BioWare making its own canon runs the risk of conflicting with the canon players make on their own, and the studio’s word being potentially declared definitive gospel is the last thing anyone wanted. Similarly, there was a desire to make sure Absolution stood on its own, explicit ties to the games or no. “There’s all these elements that make up Thedas and what’s going on,” said Epler. “We were fine with leaving space for these stories to exist and feed into a larger world as a whole.”

Up until the Dragon Age cookbook, there was no establishment of the BioWare canon or the game default. Which are at times two separate things, but do overlap in areas. But the difference between the two is for another conversation.

Additionally some lines in Absolution are about all we have in regards to the fact it definitely happens after Trespasser.

"Before the Inquisition ended, we learned the Tevinter Chantry was in possession of an artefact. The Circulum Infinitus." ep1. , 7:50ish

"Rezaren is dead. I have the Circulum. It's over, if you want it to be. You were right, Hira. Tevinter is an evil place, and I know what it feels like for that hate and that fear to infect you, but... you can't let it. Help me take the Circulum to what's left of the Inqusition and we can try again, free from everything." ep.6, 21:40ish

Source:

World of Thedas Vol. 1 p. 143 World of Thedas Vol. 2 p. 220-223 Dragon Age: Inquisition Dialogue Dragon Age: Dawn of the Seeker Dragon Age: Redemption Interview with Absolution showrunner Mairighread Scott and EP John Epler by io9

Codex:

Cassandra Pentaghast Cassandra and the Last Few Years

[herosparkyart]

My Sherlock Holmes ocs :) My own adaptation where it takes place in modern-day Montreal, and every character has been hit with the lgbtq+ beam

More info of them below the cut!!

🔎 SHERLOCK HOLMES: A peculiar and withdrawn young man residing in the Westmount area of the city of Montreal with his two siblings, Mycroft and Enola. He spends most of his days indoors and away from others, heavily indulging in chemistry and horror media (while receiving questioning yet conditioned glances from his two siblings). Sherlock spends a fair amount of time studying crime cases from the comfort of their bedroom, writing notes and drawing conclusions in a fashion that may be reminiscent of a crazed conspiracy theorist - that is, were it not for the fact that whenever they announce their findings on forums, they consistently and miraculously end up being correct. It's only when the discovery of a body near the campus of the city's top medical school goes unsolved that Sherlock is dragged out of their room, path crossing with one of the students attending said university: John H. Watson, who is quickly roped in by the detective to assist them with solving the case.

🩺 JOHN H. WATSON: A strong-willed, albeit flustered young man residing in the city of Montreal. John took part in combat training in military school, but when someone's pin accidentally slipped during tpg hand-grenade throwing training, John acted on instinct and threw himself over the blast. He miraculously survived, but not before suffering intense shrapnel wounds that left over half of his body littered with scars and his left leg rendered nearly unusable. Forced to leave the military due to his injury, John instead pursued medicine, and is now in his second year of university, working in writing/editing on the side. He also has a personal blog, which has a very small audience and often gets him berated over his out-of-fashion hobby. While he is passionate and very excellent in his field of study, his thrill-less days of academics and work have left him yearning for more exciting purpose. Luckily (for the better or worse), his life takes a stirring turn when a body ends up being discovered on his university's campus - and he gets roped into the case when a mysterious person named Sherlock Holmes enlists him to help them solve it.

And yes they eventually fall in love and kiss

[callofdudes]

More Headcanons because I can't sleep~

Ghost enjoys horror. He can sit through it without so much as a muscle flinch and even laughs in the face of the thrillers. Although he enjoys horror, he is much less keen on watching movies like Scream or sequences starring a masked killer similarity representing a ghost for obvious reasons.

In a CVN AU or as Military Personnel I can see Ghost owning a podcast. Not one where he talks and gossips, but simply a black screen with a logo he designed himself. It would probably feature a representation of his mask design with the stripes.

Ghost isn't much of a conspiracy man. While he enjoys the odd thought from Soap, he doesn't consider himself an avid theorist. He narrates horror stories and creepypastas. With his deep, slow voice he's amassed many listeners who send in their creepy paranormal stories, fact or fiction and he reads the ones he finds the best. Some have even sent a shiver down his spine before. Soap isn't much of a horror man, but he finds himself listening to Ghost's deep, gravelly voice at all times. It's surprisingly relaxing to fall asleep to a deep and slow Manchester accent.

He has a workout playlist on Spotify but refuses to show Soap or anyone else the songs he listens to. (Personally I think Soap would show him Masquerade by Siouxxie and he got addicted to listening to it.)

Ghost ears alone. He will either get his food and eat in his room or he will wait till everyone has left to eat. Soap has only been allowed to sit with Ghost in his room during lunch.

I think Ghost does a lot of the more docile and domestic work around the 141 base. If he can't sleep he'll get up and quietly do the dishes or clean up the kitchen. He denies all of this and even goes as far as to threaten Gaz when the sergeant caught him nurturing the dishes in the sink.

Sometimes when new recruits are assholes Ghost will purposefully get their bunk up a few hours earlier than schedule time just to beat them down. If they thought they were top dog let's see how they run on three hours of sleep.

Ghost is very alert in high stress situations and is often very on edge days after getting back from a mission. But there are other times when is body can't take it. With the mix of shock, obvious anxiety and stress he will completely shut down. Once after a mission he passed out on Price's shoulder and both of them agreed to never bring it up again.

He absolutely LOVES getting to play good cop bad cop with Soap when they are put in charge of interrogations or interrogative training with recruits.

Can dance. Attempted to get Ghost to join him once but surprise surprise, it didn't work.

Unlike Ghost who keeps his music interests almost exclusively private, he's not the least bit ashamed to blast his music loudly in the gym throughout the duration he's there.

His height is often what gets him underestimated. Most new recruits often try to establish a "top dog" and Soap often isn't seen as that man. He's Scottish though. Get on this marshmallows edge and he'll bark at you. If you said something wrong he will instantly pick up the octave and pull them back down below him with his drill sergeant voice. (Ghost is proud.)

Soap also enjoys playing bad cop good cop with Ghost. He'll go in acting all nice and trying to sweeten ho their victim. When it doesn't work (inevitably) he'll lean on the desk and whistle in this 6'4 body of muscle with a skull for a face and it turns his guts all the time.

Soap takes a lot of precautions to work his way up to Simon. So he's designated every Saturday , 6pm if nothing else is going on to watch a movie and just hang. (Ghost had surprisingly shown up to every single arrangement)

Master of surprise parties. He is a prank master so naturally he's also good at throwing parties. They threw a party for Price's birthday and he almost had a heart attack when he stepped on the trip wire which set off an air horn and got confetti thrown in his face from the ceiling.

Soap mostly takes his pranks out on the recruits. He enjoys talking idly with Ghost as a recruit is mysteriously dumped in disgustingly bright pink glitter on the way to the showers. They were scrubbing it out of the floors and uniform for months.

Ghost has always reminded Soap about self preservation but Soap would jump in for his friends lives in a heartbeat. He is always willing without hesitation to do whatever on the field he can to save his partners.

Once Soap came back with a bullet wound in his shoulder and instantly went to Gaz while he was actively bleeding out to make sure he didn't get hurt.

Again, despite his size Soap is extremely skilled in hand to hand. He does have trouble one-upping his lieutenant but he will always remember when König visited the base with a small team and he managed to deck the big guy.

Gives out free haircuts despite not knowing the first thing about hair.

Is the only one out of the 141 who got Alejandro and Rudy an anniversary gift after offhandedly hearing about it in a background conversation and acted like it was totally cool. (Both Vaqueros were extremely happy)

This man likes bombs. He's smart. Extremely smart. If you want to know the pressure, diameter and exact penetration radius of a 12 pound nuclear bomb and it's fission would be he could tell you in a heartbeat.

He knows he's pretty. Let's be honest, he doesn't just wear that throat mic because it's "practical".

Ok bye ✌️

[theprettynosferatu]

I - Perfection

Usually when someone says “not everyone is created equally”, they follow the sentiment with a declaration of their own intelligence, their superior genes, their inherent right to all their heart might desire. Jean, however, never uttered the phrase, even if she knew it to be true deep in her bones. No, being special was not a gift. It brought a solemn duty to do right by those that couldn’t defend themselves. The world was a cruel and unfeeling machine– the least she could do was to try and balance the scales a little.

She knew there were others like her; only a handful, she guessed, although she could be wrong. Most chose to hide, to adjust, to only use their gifts in small, measured ways, if ever. Jean couldn’t understand that, even if she felt jealous sometimes. To her it was blindingly obvious: she couldn’t sit back and watch things go to Hell step by step when she could do something about it. Maybe she was a naive girl, but she’d rather be naive than heartless.

It felt heavy in so many ways. It was lonely. Perfection was lonely.

She pulled herself back from that thought. She wasn’t perfect, no one was… no matter how many times others used the term to describe her, some with envy, some with desire, a few with admiration. She never got sick, never got hurt. Her face never showed any signs of tiredness, was never anything other than flawless. Her body was toned and tight, despite the fact she had never worked out outside of the old P.E. classes. She didn’t gain weight, no matter what she ate, a fact she was beyond grateful for given her love of burgers and fries. One small downside was that she couldn’t get piercings or tattoos, as many a busted machine and mystified tattoo artist could attest. She was doomed to be her perfect, beautiful, blonde self.

She felt guilty sometimes, especially when she saw how hard her few friends struggled. They talked about skin creams and restorative shampoos and strict diets and grueling workout routines. Jean nodded along, sensing the gulf between her and her friends. Her and everyone else. 

She shook the feeling off. To mope about being who she was would serve no purpose, and it was gross to her. She had no right to whine, no real reason to feel miserable. What she had was a job to do.

Tracking them down had been easy. They had been making a lot of noise in the underground circles for a while, and the rumors in the Dark Web had quickly turned to bragging, then into full-on sales pitches. New weapons, better than anything ever seen before, powerful enough to blast holes into concrete, to get through any body armor… powerful enough to take down that Chick. 

That’s how they called her. That Chick, or That Bitch, or That Fucking Cunt. But mostly she was just “She.” They didn’t need to clarify: everyone in the scene knew what they were talking about. She’s gonna fuck you up. She better not show or I’ll make her a new hole. They say she looks like she needs a good dicking. And on and on it went. Some didn’t even believe “she” existed, which tickled Jean to no end. Hell, there were full conspiracy theories, from claiming that “she” was in fact multiple people trained by the CIA and given identical faces through plastic surgery all the way up to the oddly well-developed theory that “she” was a genetically engineered agent of the Illuminati. It was amusing that the last one was closer to the truth, in a sad way. Her genes were indeed different from normal people.

Jean watched the truck pull up, the men unloading boxes of cargo. The weapons, presumably. The rumor about a demonstration for buyers had been right on the money. Well, it would be rude of her not to let them demonstrate the miracle guns properly, wouldn’t it? She waited until everyone was inside the warehouse. Easier to round them up.

It felt like cheating. If the miracle guns were fake or just the victims of overzealous sellers, she couldn’t say. They felt like any other gunshot: a bit of a tickle, not entirely unpleasant. The screams were annoying, however. As if yelling “shoot her!” would do any good. She wasn’t a criminal mastermind, but she found it hard to believe any of the men with weapons would choose not to shoot her. Good thing she was, as usual, wearing cheap clothes: a lesson she had learned early on when she had designed something of a uniform for herself. Turns out she might be invulnerable, but coth wasn’t. So many wasted hours drawing up designs, sewing, getting the fit right…

Better to snap out of it, do it quickly. Last thing she needed was to go home in a completely torn t-shirt.

Less than a minute later, the men were either unconscious or had surrendered. She bound them to a pillar (always bring rope: another early lesson learned) and tipped the cops off. She did a final check just to be sure none of the thugs needed immediate medical attention, and like a blur she sped out.

She was doing good, she told herself. She had to, because the affair had been dreadfully boring. Surely it meant something that these new guns wouldn’t flood the streets, even if too many people died because of regular guns every single day. She couldn’t save everyone, she reminded herself. It still hurt.

II - Dreams of Freedom

She’s not sure exactly where she is, and yet she knows it doesn’t matter. The vast, empty city stretches under her and for a moment she feels as if it’s all hers, all there for the taking. She knows, without any reason to, that someone down there is waiting for her. She smiles and lets herself fall. The rush of wind is exhilarating, a blast of freedom as she drops deeper and deeper: the ground never rises to meet her, never stops her fall. She could fall forever.

The basement is cold. She can hear muffled groans coming from somewhere deeper inside. The basement stretches to infinity. She takes one step, then another, then another. She’s vaguely aware that the more she walks, the harder it is for her to focus, to remember exactly who she is. Still, she walks. Why? She can’t tell.

The girl is bound to a chair, her legs wide open, a ballgag in her mouth. Beside her stands the shadow. It has no features and yet her movements, her silhouette, the emerald eyes that burn through the darkness are entrancing, alluring; she’s a predator and a dancer, a kind mother and a stern teacher. Jean knows the shadow is dangerous. The girl looks at her, pleading for her help. Still, Jean does not move.

The shadow caresses the girl, almost seeming to take in her scent, delighting in what is to come. Jean should stop her. She doesn't. The shadow takes a large device, and Jean needs a moment to fully understand what it is. Once she does, the duty to rescue the poor victim becomes undeniable, yet she doesn’t. Why? Why isn’t she helping?

Well, why should she? She never signed up for anything. She didn’t choose her genes. She didn’t ask to be special. Her entire life revolves around others. Fuck them. They don’t deserve her fucking help, they’re not entitled to her time, her effort, her life. Are those thoughts hers or the shadow’s? She doesn’t know, nor does she care. The shadow turns on the vibrator and teases the girl’s vulnerable pussy with it. The poor thing tries not to move, not to squirm, not to moan. She fails. The shadow knows what she’s doing, skillfully changing pressure, location, now and then caressing the girl’s neck…

It’s fucking hot. Jean knows she can stop this violation whenever she chooses to. Instead, she feels those green eyes staring at her as she lets herself fall to the ground, her hand pushing her panties to the side… Fuck, she’s soaked. It’s not just the sweet whimpers and moans reaching her, almost seeping inside her. It’s the eyes. The girl’s eyes, full of confusion, desperation and a sense of betrayal seeing the hero enjoy her suffering… the shadow’s eyes, amused, beckoning, almost encouraging her complicity… 

Suddenly, the basement is a white room. Jean is alone, surrounded by cameras. They’re watching. They’re all watching. Her family is watching. The shadow is watching. They all want her. They all want to see the hero, the beautiful blonde, the paragon of strength and beauty. What do they want to see her do? What they always want to see when someone is put on a pedestal: to see them fall. They want to see the broken beauty, the despair of hope turned into base instinct. Fine, if that’s what they want, that’s what they’ll get. After all, Jean always does what others need her to do, want her to do. Fucking parasites. She tears off her t-shirt and it feels as if she has cast away a shroud, a heavy, stifling straightjacket. Do they want perversion? Debauchery? They want her to act like they do, like a degenerate pig? She can do that. Oh, she can do that and she intends to enjoy every goddamn second of it…

The alarm tore Jean awake. What the fuck? That had been one messed up dream. Jean was sweating, and it took her a moment to fully come out of it. Already the memory of it was fading. Good. She felt dirty, and wrong and… Oh God. She was so wet! A wave of shame hit her, even as the dream receded further away. She couldn’t remember a lot, but… Okay, just, just a quick one. Just to get it out of her. Then she could leave it behind and go about her day. A moan escaped her lips as soon as she grazed her clit. Oh shit. It would be a quick one indeed. She rubbed to fragmented remains of memories. A chair? A camera? 

And those eyes… so green, so powerful…

III - …Over matter 

If there was one thing Morgana couldn’t tolerate, it was hypocrisy. Almost nothing else could faze her, not even the darkest of fantasies, the most twisted of thoughts. After all, she had been exposed to the inner lives of those around her since she was twelve years old. It had been scary at first, those voices that weren’t her own, those words never said out loud. It had been upsetting to hear the way her mother loathed her father, saw him only as a flabby source of income. It had been gross to hear what her father thought of when Morgana’s friends came over. But most of all, it was infuriating that they acted as if such heinous thoughts were beneath them and delivered sermons to their daughter.

She got used to it. Teachers despised their students and doctors could only think about how tired they were, and prim and proper women trembled in fear of people with dark skin, no matter what their bumper stickers proclaimed. People were inherently fucked up, the world was beyond any form of salvation. For a while, she watched.

Then she started pushing a bit. Leading a thought here, suppressing a desire there. It was just too easy. Sure, some people were harder to crack, but they all did eventually. Dreams were a great doorway in, she found. People accepted a lot of things in dreams, and the seeds planted deep grew and grew…

The seeds planted in her parents sure had grown and exploded all over the news. It had been simple to twist the minds of policemen and coroners, who dutifully recorded one extra victim when analyzing the tragedy. Just one additional name, a dead name, her old name. She had no use for it. She had baptized herself as Morgana, in blood.

And now some blonde bimbo pretended to be a hero. The world had no heroes, and she had begun to teach the delusional savior that harsh lesson. She had to admit, this one felt particularly enjoyable.

IV - Awake

Jean was awake, which sent her somewhere near a state of panic. 

Every night, she dreamed. She only remembered fragments, flashes, sensations. She couldn’t quite place them, and they drove her mad. That she woke up feeling as if she needed her pussy pounded by a savage beast in heat didn’t help matters, and neither did the fact that sleep provided her with no rest, no mental renewal. She was in a daze, blindly searching for something, something right there, outside her consciousness and yet spurring her on, urging her to recall her nightly escapades. She had few clues to use as a starting point, recurring images or situations. She had to get to the bottom of it, Jean told herself. That was why she looked at those videos every morning, the ones with leather and whips and women bound, leashed, serving masters and mistresses. That she would get a tad… stimulated was inevitable, wasn’t it? And not finding answers, anything to unlock her dreams in the more mainstream sites, who could blame her for digging deeper into less savory parts of the web?

And who could fault her for being thorough? Whatever was happening to her was clearly a serious matter, one that demanded her time and energy. After all, if she couldn’t rest, she couldn’t save others. Yes, there were crimes being committed out there while she drooled and panted with her fingers inside herself, but all she was doing was thinking long term. Surely nobody could begrudge her not stopping a robbery or five, or deriving a cruel kind of pleasure knowing that while she humped her pillow someone else cried for her help. She was human, after all. Kind of. Jean had to admit she… saw herself less and less like that, but it was probably just the restless sleep talking. 

And having watched model after model, porn star after porn star, amateur after amateur… who wouldn’t feel like their wardrobe was a tad too drab? Would anyone that looked like Jean looked, a picture of perfect sensuality, with golden hair and pillowy lips and tits that seemed to defy gravity not get new clothes to better show off her superiority? And who, in that position, could resist staring at the mirror or going on anonymous camsites to receive the worship she deserved?

Jean had moments of lucidity, of shame and fear and self-flagellation. They often happened after she came, so she did her best to postpone that moment as much as she could. She hated that she loved the being she was slowly becoming. In those moments she promised herself she would stop, before a new dream tore that resolution down. Still, she wasn’t entirely gone, and when the news of a missing person came up on her laptop, she decided she needed to spring into action. She couldn’t spend her life half asleep.

And so, she was awake. Aware. Fully in control of herself. And still, the images, the words kept popping inside her head. She needed to do something to get outside her own mind, and fast. Good thing she had found the dilapidated country house quickly. Criminals should really keep their voices down when they know there’s someone out there with special hearing.

There certainly was something to going in prepared, taking the methodical approach, analyzing the situation. Then again, there also was a virtue in desperation. She took in the kidnapper’s shocked faces as the front door exploded. Yes, take good look you fucking worms. No, no, that wasn’t her. Just the dreams talking. Focus, Jean. Find the girl, get the hell out…

She was tied to the bed, naked, spread-eagled, covered in dry cum. She needed to… The words appeared out of nowhere. She could see them as clearly as she could see every dusty inch of the room. The words just hovered above the pleading beauty on the bed. Slut. Cumdump. Fucktoy. Hours upon hours of porn flashed inside her head in a second and she fell on her knees, screaming. No more. No more. She was awake! Awake, damn it! She didn’t want to… Didn’t want…

No. Not want. Need. She needed it. She could feel herself slipping, the room around her melting into a dreamlike space that was anywhere and nowhere, and she was herself, but less and less so by the second. She was being drained, to be replaced by… what? And somewhere outside sight, she could sense a beautiful pair of green eyes… 

She slammed the floor in a final act of defiance, even as she could feel the men surrounding her. Her enhanced senses were overwhelmed. Heat. Scent. They wormed their way past her mind and right into the pleasure centers in her brain, fogging whatever resistance remained. Cock. That was all she could think of. Cockslave. Cunt. Cumdump. Her heart raced and her pussy felt on fire. Purpose. Duty. Obedience. Yes, obedience. It felt so good. It felt so natural, so simple… Her hand darted between her legs, took in how warm she was, how fucking wet… A small whimper escaped her lips. No, this was so wrong…

It was wrong for her to rub like this, curled up on the floor. Her pleasure was to stimulate cocks. They deserved to see, to see it all. She went on her back and spread her legs. Yes, exposure. Let them see what she really was, what she really needed. Smile. She needed to smile. To be inviting, attractive, lustful. Leave no room for doubt, no way to turn back. And so, a devilish smile that few could hope to resist adorned her beautiful face.

She knew the eyes would approve. That made it so much better…

The men were shocked, their faces a tableau of disbelief, confusion and arousal. Jean realized they might need a push. Fine, the worms needed her to spell things out? She would fucking do so.

“You fucking pigs… look at what you did to that woman… how many times did you fuck her? Did you use her tight pussy? Her mouth? Her little asshole? Did you like that she couldn’t move, that she was just there for you to take over and over again? Did she feel good? Did her body make your cocks happy? Did she cry as you coated her in warm cum? Well I won’t cry. I don’t need to be bound to be a good fucking whore. And I bet I can make your cocks feel so… much… better than she ever could. So, what are you waiting for? Whip them out! Show me what you got… show me what I need…”

No human being on Earth, man or woman, wicked or virtuous, could avoid being affected by the blonde bombshell on the ground, her tantalizing lips, her devious and teasing eyes, the overwhelming lust in her voice. As if to drive the point home, Jean tore off her t-shirt, letting her perfect breasts accentuate her heavy, ragged breathing. 

What happened was as inevitable as the tide, as total as gravity. 

To Jean it was a series of flashes, sensations, words echoing in her head, and the sense of being performing… for who? She couldn’t tell. The feeling of being turned around, put on all fours. A cock spreading her lips open and ramming inside her with no tenderness, no care about her. The way the blood flowed in the cock she sucked eagerly. Her own voice, demanding over and over: “harder.” Her moans mixing with the men’s grunting. Hands, squeezing her tits without mercy. Wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body, making her shake. Whore. Filthy fucking slut. Slave. Did she think that? Say it out loud? Did someone else think it for her? Her anal virginity taken with a violent thrust. The delight of feeling she was being conquered, used, treated like a living sex doll. The knowledge that such an act would hurt other women, but not her. Her body was made to take a pounding. She was superior. The superior cumslave. Both more and less than any normal cunt. Obey. Please. Worship. The delight of being the center of a circle of cocks, all hard for her, all ready to give her a reward, give her what she had earned, give her purpose and joy and…

She only recovered something close to full consciousness once she was back at her apartment, still breathing hard. Fuck. What had she done? She tried to focus. She hadn’t captured the men, that much was certain. They remained free, free to do to someone else what they had done to the girl… or to her. She could smell their cum on her naked body. There was something terribly wrong with her. She knew it. She knew she had to do something about it. The memories came in flashes, the cum on her skin drove her mad. She would do something to fix it. She just needed to do something else first.

She fell on the floor, and let her hands take over.

V - Myth

Jean hated the server for “special” people. She seldom logged in, mainly because most of it was people whining about being different. Sure, not everyone had gotten as lucky in the genetic lottery as she had, but to her it was pointless to complain. She felt that was before, and she felt even less inclined to charity now. Even among the “special” crowd, she knew she was objectively better; to hear the bleating of sheep was not something that interested her. That she needed their help was nothing short of embarrassing.

It had taken a tremendous amount of willpower to pry herself away from her pussy and her porn, and especially from the memories of that amazing night a week before. But a part of her was still aware that what was happening to her wasn’t normal. Perhaps one of the little people in the server would know more.

She kept the details vague, of course. Just weird dreams, very vivid, flashing even when she was awake. They didn’t need to know what the dreams were, even though her pussy twitched at the idea of telling everyone exactly what she had done…

What she didn’t expect was to start an online argument, although she probably should have. Everything and anything could become the battlefield where small people with big egos seeked to validate their own existence.

“I’m sorry J. but maybe it’s the woman in black”

“lol you believe in the woman in black”

“shes real tho a friend of mine had dreams and then disappeared and I was talking to J not you”

“bro she’s a myth. Are you afraid of the boogieman too lmao”

“Whatever all im saying is that shes like super powerful and fucks with your head and then you vanish”

“hahahaha sexy Slenderman”

Well, that had been useless. Either she was going mad, or she was being attacked by some mythical super psychic woman who most probably didn’t even exist. Very helpful. Fuck it, she didn’t have time for losers. There were men online waiting to worship her perfect body.

VI - Truth

“Jean, what are you looking at?”

Wait. Something was off. Jean had been alone in her apartment when she had gone online. She was sure of it. And she was more than certain that she’d remember the pale, almost marble-like skin, the raven-black hair, the tight leather the woman was wearing. And those eyes… those green eyes that sunk into her chest and pinned her to her seat, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Those eyes…

“Who… what are you…?”

“Jean, babygirl, are you okay? Should I call a doctor? We were hanging out and you just went off to the computer to do Lord knows what! That’s kinda rude, you know”

“Hanging out…?”

“Well, yeah. Hanging out. You know, like friends do? Morgana to Jean, please come in, Jean! Seriously, what’s gotten into you? We hang out all the time!”

Of course. Yes, obviously, Morgana was her friend! Why else would she be in her apartment if she wasn’t her friend? Such a silly thought. And Jean had been so rude to forget that! So dumb! A wave of warmth caressed her skin. So dumb… 

“Anyway, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Right… I… I was going to tell you something, wasn’t I?”

“Well, yeah. You called me all like ‘you’re my best friend and you’re the only one I can tell this to, please come to the apartment’ and then just when you were about to spill the beans your brain drifted off to outer space. Well honey, Morgana is here and all ears for you. So, tell me everything”  

Everything. Yes, she had to tell her friend everything. That was what friends were for, right? She could trust Morgana. She knew that the way she knew the sun would rise in the morning. It was an absolute truth. Jean could trust Morgana. Jean would tell her everything. Morgana would know best.

“I… I think I’m not really… me… anymore”

“Now that’s some heavy stuff. How did it start?”

Dreams. It had started in her dreams, that much she remembered, so she told her best friend. She told her every detail she recalled about every dream, and before she knew it she was telling her about the porn, and the showing off for people online, and the gangbang, and her need to rub her needy cunt all the time and how she felt dirty and slutty and mean and weak all at the same time, how good it felt and how scary it was that it felt so good…

Morgana looked at Jean with a raised eyebrow, her green eyes fixed on the blonde’s baby blues even as Jean tried to hide the fact that she was rubbing herself over her yoga pants as she recounted the events of the last few weeks. Finally, the hero pleaded:

“What is wrong with me?”

“Jean, babe… I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“What? I mean, I’m…”

“From what I hear you are the same Jean I’ve known forever! Seriously, you’re scaring me! Since when do you get crises of consciousness and full on identity drama for rubbing your silly pussy and sucking a few cocks? Bitch, that’s like, a light week for you!”

“No, no, I’m not… or I wasn’t…”

“Yes you were, dummy. Honestly, I doubt we would be friends if you weren’t a fucking derpaved slut that collects kinks like they’re goddamn pokemon! I mean, you’re pretty much the only bitch I know that’s as fucked in the head as I am, if not more. That’s why I like you, and why you love me so much. We help each other get worse and worse”

“I’m… no, that can’t be…”

“Come on, where did this come from? You know I’m right. You know I’m always right”

“Always… right?”

“Damn right I’m always right. And you’ve always been a depraved little whore. Want me to prove it? I mean, aside from the fact that you’re soaking through your pants as we speak? Fine, I’ll prove it to you. Get on all fours, dummy”

Jean felt the carpet on her hands and knees before she knew what she was doing. The space between the command and obedience had been zero, in time and mental process. A soft whimper. She didn’t know why it felt so good to obey her friend, or why it felt so right. She didn’t care, not really, not anymore. She wasn’t sure she should care. All that mattered was to please. To please the goddess with silken skin and emerald eyes. All else was just water, running and running without affecting her in the slightest. The world was simple. Her role was clear.

“See how easy that was? How natural? And you know why, don’t you? Because we’ve done this a thousand times! Because you’re, among other things, my little trained pet, aren’t you?”

She was. Of course she was. How could she have ever thought she was anything else? Morgana had shown her what she needed to be, her real nature, her place in the world. Morgana had helped her escape her antiquated notions of duty, of responsibility, of principle. Morgana was teacher and mistress, friend and sister, her one guiding light and the one person worthy of her surrender. That she had forgotten such a basic fact filled her with shame, with the need to make it up to the slender, leather-clad woman. Jean crawled to her owner with pleading eyes and a soaked pussy. 

“Oh, look at you. So needy and cute! You were just confused for a moment. That’s okay. That’s why you need me here. I’ll always remind you of who and what you are. But after scaring me like that, do you think you deserve to lick my pussy? Do you feel worthy of feeling its warmth?”

“No… I’m… but I want it! I need to… need to please you… please! Let me… just let me be your toy, just use me to get off Mistress, please let me be of use to you! I’m so sorry I’m such a dumb cunt… let me make it up to you… let me be worthy again… please…”

“Sounds to me like you need to bring out your toy, don’t you?”

“My toy?”

“The one you keep on the top drawer, silly”

Top drawer. Toy. She needed to get it. She was desperate for it. She crawled to her nightstand like a drowning woman gasping for air. It was large and purple, double-sided and thick. She didn’t remember it, but Morgana had said it was hers, so it must have been hers all along. She brought it to her owner as she should, in her mouth.

Morgana slid off her leather trousers in a smooth, fluid, hypnotic motion motion. She nodded at Jean, who tore her own clothes off with supernatural, rather less gracious, speed. She opened her legs, displaying herself for her mistress. Morgana owned every inch of her. Deserved everything she could offer and more. Jean was held in place, expectant, paralyzed by Morgana’s eyes. She knew deep down she would do whatever she was told, and she would enjoy it. Even as she remained still, it felt as if her pussy was being tortured with delicious dexterity. It was a storm of phantom sensations in her brain, synapses firing wildly in an orchestra of madness and pleasure that made Jean tear up, unmoving, almost shaking as the green eyes pinned her, toyed with her, played with her brain and sensory receptors. Morgana eased a little, just to give her pet the ability to hand her the toy.

“Now, here’s how the game will go. You will put this big rubber cock inside your obedient pussy. And I’ll just slide the other end in. You want to please me, don’t you? Of course you do. But to do so you’ll be fucking your own cunt, knowing that the more you do it, the more you become mine. Every bit of pleasure you get is a little bit of your soul you give to me. Your enjoyment is only an act of worship to me, and I do deserve to be worshiped, don’t I?”

“You do. You do, Morgana… I’m just…”

“What did you just call me? That wasn’t very… adoring of you”

No. No. Jean felt so desperate, so ashamed… She needed to please Morgana, needed it more than she needed air, needed it on a primal, animal level. She had to fix it. She had to obey.

“Sorry… Goddess”

“Better. Now stick that cock in and let your body tell you what to do”

Jean didn’t stand a chance. She had to give pleasure to her superior, even if it meant destroying herself one hip thrust at a time. Their eyes locked to one another, Jean losing control, humping and drooling and impaling herself just so some of the pleasure would go to her Goddess… it was a sight to behold, felt Morgana. Oh, Jean. So strong, so special. Moans echoed throughout the apartment as Morgana watched the blonde hero act like the bitch in heat she had become. Her view had the additional benefit of showing her exactly how much the slut’s mind was breaking, one moan, one thrust at a time. It was like watching old paint flake off to reveal something beautiful, something truly marvelous underneath. 

A blank slate. Whatever remained of whoever Jean had been, the girl was gleefully fucking away. She wasn’t even aware of it anymore, gripped by instinct and mentally overstimulated to the point of madness. It was delicious.

Morgana let herself feel some of the pleasure that came not from the dildo -she was far too evolved for such things- but from the mental spectacle of submission and self destruction before her. She would make Jean happy, in a manner of speaking. Less conflicted, at least. A perfect, strong, nigh invincible slave to her pussy… and her pussy a slave to Morgana herself. It would be beautiful. They would be unstoppable. 

But that was in the future. Right then, Jean only needed one final push, one tiny word to send her world crumbling down.

“Cum” ordered Morgana.

And Jean did.

She came herself away, forever.

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[creature-wizard]

The Illuminati Formula Used To Create An Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave is reaching new heights in silly.

They're claiming that the Illuminati creates alters with Illuminati sensibilities in Good Christian Citizens, so that said alters can effectively serve as "super spies" to spy on the Christians and tell the Illuminati what the Christians are up to:

The proper training of a person for this role would be long and tedious, but once he was trained, you would have a super spy compared to which any creation in a mystery story is just plain weak. This is what the Illuminati have done. They create good Christian fronts, with Illuminati dark alters who can see what the Christians are doing.

Hmmm... a long and tedious process, you say? Hmm, imagine if there were easier ways to get this information... like reading Christian publications, listening to Christian radio, watching Christian television, visiting Christian websites, or just attending church services... it's not like these people just blast their agendas to anyone who'll listen 24/7 or anything...

The fact that there are people vain enough to think that there are secret conspiratorial cults going to all this work to do all of this unnecessary spying is kinda funny, IMO. Christofascists are some of the most self-absorbed fuckers on the planet.

Later, Cisco Wheeler cites the lyrics from "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera as an example of a "hypnotic script." Yeah, it wasn't like, a song written for a character who was canonically supposed to be creepy or weird or anything.

Seriously though, this is a great example of how conspiracy theorists ruin art. Anything that's a little weird or uncomfortable to them must be some sort of evil programming. God forbid they have to understand things like context and artistic intent and shit like that.

Next is a list of things that supposedly keep a child's mind dissociative. One item on the list is spending fifteen minutes a day writing backwards, an obvious mutation of the old "witches recite the Lord's Prayer" canard. Because writing backwards doesn't cause dissociation. You just learn to write backwards.

And the rest is pretty typical torture stuff; many of which genuinely happen in actual child abuse cases, but in the context of the conspiracy theory are given special significance, because... shitty parents don't just abuse their kids for no reason, I guess.

And the book claims that Billy Graham was a Monarch handler. I really have no idea why conspiracists have singled him out among all the other celebrity preachers of the time, lemme go look at his Wikipedia page...

...Oh well he wasn't a total dick; he refused to glue himself to the Moral Majority or the GOP, pushed for military disarmament and AIDS support; yeah, that might have something to do with it.

Oh hey it's that Saturn worship thing (links to antisemitic conspiracy theories) with extra antisemitism by linking the Anti-Christ to Kabbalah:

The AntiChrist is also known as Black Saturn, and other names. Satan himself is known within a Monarch system often by the name Bilair, Bilar, or Bilid which are his cabalistic names.

Conflation of "the occult" with Wicca:

In the occult world, goddesses are triune: maiden, mother and crone. The one to the left of center is Midnight (the Mother figure), and the other is Morning Star (the maiden). Morning Star (Stella Matutina) may be a very young alter, rather than a teenager.

If you think this is bad, shit's about to get much, much worse.

So first of all, the book claims that The Wizard of Oz is an Illuminati thing, and has something to do with ancient Isis mystery religion:

One of the secrets of the Mystery Religions, especially the Egyptian Isis mystery religion was the ability to use drugs and torture to create multiple personalities. The word Oz is known to have been used by its author as an abbreviation for Osirus.

And then.

And then.

There's THIS fucking whopper:

The Grimm brothers, who were cabalistic jews, gathered the folk occult stories together. Their stories are full of spells, trances, and drugs. Sleeping Beauty is put to sleep, and the trigger to wake her is a kiss on the lips. These are serious hints that the occult world didn't stop programming people with dissociative states and triggers when the ancient Egyptian empires fell. Instead of using modern lingo such as "hypnotize", they would say "cast a spell."

The Grimm Brothers? Jews? Of ANY kind? Holy shit, you'll just pull anything out of your asses, won't you?

By the way, pinning the conspiratorial blame on Kabbalistic Jews specifically is how a lot of the conspiracy theories Nazi Germany believed in were made palatable for American gentiles post-WWII. Most Christians would agree that full-out mass slaughter was a little unfair. Many Christians could agree, though, that everyday Jews were perfectly fine people; they just needed to accept Jesus. And believing that it's just those Kabbalistic Jews who are the problem doesn't feel as hateful as all that Nazi shit. Must be totally different, right?

Nah.

Rehabbed conspiracy crap is still crap.

[canichangemyblogname]

So, I recently left these comments in the tags of a poll about my interpretation of Commander Fox:

I think I may interpret Fox very differently. Because, see, he's canonically one of the most decorated men in the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars. He clearly took his duty very seriously, and was good at his job. I'm sure he, much like Rex (and many other clones), believed it an honor to serve. And based on the actions of other Corrie Guard Commanders, there seemed to be a cult of death among the Corrie Guard (the honorable death being is one of the 14 characteristics of fascism Umberto Eco listed in his essay Ur-Fascism). They absolutely would die to protect Coruscant, and I absolutely believe that they believed in the system they fought for, as many clones did. I see Fox as a narrative representation of who Rex might have become and the path he might've taken had he not had influences from brothers like Slick, Cut, Fives, Dogma, and Echo, or influences from Jedi like Ahsoka and even Pong Krell. Fox would go on to have an absolute view of O66, and go on to believe the extermination of the Jedi was righteous. Would he have believed so had he had a mentee like Ahsoka? Or met brothers like Cut and Fives and Echo who challenged his worldview around honor and duty and purpose? Or met brothers like Slick and Dogma who revealed the injustices within the system & challenged his view of the Republic? Or if he had ever had to serve on a front that wasn't Coruscant? Serve alongside partisans? Serve behind enemy lines? Or lose entire divisions under the capricious orders of a bad Jedi?

And there's one arc that drives this interpretation home for me: The Wrong Jedi Arc. In this Arc, Captain Rex and Commander Fox come to a head as they disagree over Ahsoka's guilt and how to proceed with the investigation into the temple bombing. Rex knows that Ahsoka embodies the ideals he believes they (the GAR & Republic) should stand for because he has served alongside her and fought with her. He knows because he trained her. "I know Commander Tano. She would never do something like this." Rex had tried to instill in her a value of and loyalty to the men she served alongside.

Earlier in the Arc, Fox had been working with Ahsoka and had even complimented her efforts in apprehending suspects as "A lot of innocent people died in that blast." But as soon as Ahsoka is suspected of having masterminded the conspiracy, Fox moves to arrest her. In season 7 when Rex told Ahsoka that loyalty meant everything to the Clones, he didn't mean loyalty to the Senate or the Republic or the Power Base, but to those they have served beside and fought alongside.

This seems not to be an idea that Fox shares. Despite having worked alongside her every step of the investigation and despite her having an alibi (a.k.a. literally being recalled from the front to investigate because she was nowhere near the Temple during the incident), he never gave Ahsoka the benefit of the doubt. There seemed to have been no sense of duty or loyalty or responsibility to someone he was fighting alongside. He was given orders to arrest her and so pursued them.

Fox was deeply bound by a sense of duty and honor in the same way Rex had been early in the war. This sense of honor compelled Fox to loyally serve and protect Coruscant, and, more specifically, the Galactic Senate. I'd argue that Fox's duty was to the Senate first and the Republic second because he was specifically stationed on Courscant to serve and protect the Galactic Senate.

For comparison, Rex's priority was primarily toward his men rather than the Galactic Senate. That priority stemmed, at least partly, from how he was stationed compared to how Fox was stationed. Rex served behind enemy lines and alongside partisans and was unfortunately familiar with significant loss. He'd lost men under tragic and unjust circumstances. He'd lost entire companies of men. On-screen, the deaths of the men of the 501st were given little show and little pretense compared to the death of, say, Commander Thorn. Death is shown to be comparatively banal on the fields of Umbara in service to the Republic compared to any death among the Corrie Guard in service to the Senate.

These sort of circumstances create a very specific bond between Rex and his men, but they also shape a person's priorities. Rex started out as one of those "follow orders for the Republic" guys, something we see him and Anakin joke about at the start of the Umbara arc. But eventually, Rex's priority became getting his brothers through to the end of the war alive. In fact, I'd argue that the overarching plot of The Clone Wars was about Rex coming to believe that his duty was to his brothers first and the power base second.

By the time The Wrong Jedi Arc airs, Rex has learned that fealty to the Republic (& thus the governing body of the Republic: the Senate) does not ensure a solid moral framework. He was less concerned with loyalty to order and some inherent sense of duty, and more concerned with loyalty to the ideals he believed they should stand for and to the people who embodied those ideals. Rex had been headed down this path since early in the Clone Wars series. It's what he told Cut as early as season 2. However, it would be a couple more seasons (season 4 to be specific) before he realized that serving the power base can conflict with those ideals, and that the people who represented the power base did not embody those ideals.

And this is what brings him and Fox to a head.

Fox never had an Ahsoka who he trained and fought beside. Fox also never experienced the opposite end of the spectrum by serving under Pong Krell. Unlike Rex, Fox had never had to come to terms with his loyalty to the order he served. That loyalty always remained unchallenged until the moment he died. He was never confronted with the consequences of the Senate's (lack of) morality on other peoples, districts, or planets. He was never confronted with the hypocrisy of those in power. He didn't have brothers whose actions challenged him to build a morality outside fealty to the Republic. (Slick saw their service as enslavement. Cut believes service is a choice and that family is paramount. Fives believes Clones can think for themselves, disobey wrong orders, and challenge authority.) Serving the power base did not conflict with Fox's ideals because his ideals aligned with the values of the power base; the values the Republic had instilled in him during his training. They believed- and he believed- that good soldiers follow orders. Consequently, he became one of the best-decorated soldiers in the GAR.

Rex, however, had come to question the purpose of the war. Without the war, he wouldn't exist, but if he sees the war to its end, he may stop existing (die). The war gave him purpose, but it also took away the opportunity to define for himself a different purpose. He knew nothing else besides life in the military, but he also knew that he had lost so much because of a life of war. Much like the Jedi he served beside, he was unconventional, driven by a deep attachment to those he loved, and he would eventually also grow wary of the system he was serving.

We talk about how Ahsoka being framed and leaving the Order destroys Anakin's faith and trust in the Order and shifts his priorities. But we seldom discuss how this might have affected Rex. Like Anakin, Rex had a lot resting on his shoulders. Rex was effectively trapped. He had limited options and nowhere else to go. Like Anakin and most Clones, Rex could not leave it all behind. Unlike Anakin and many Clones, Rex learned to let go. Ahsoka and Echo played a crucial role in that lesson.

But unlike Rex, Fox never let go. There was never an indication he had grown wary of the system. Not just because his values aligned with the system he served and continued to serve, but also because he was totally committed to it. Just as he had no one to model questioning authority and duty and purpose, he had no one to model choice and letting go. He was attached to his duty like Anakin was attached to Padmé. Fox held on to his convictions and his belief in the absolute morality of his cause and in total commitment to his cause until the bitter end when he was cut down without pretense. Fox was loyal to the end because it was his commitment that would bring his end.

And his death was as banal as the death of every clone before him.

Had Rex not learned the things he had when he had, I think he would have met a similar end as Fox did. A rigid attachment to his ideological beginnings, an absolute belief in the morality of following orders, and a black-and-white value system would have led to his death. His commitment would have brought his end, too.

“Yeah, I didn’t much like being a Commander anyway.” -Rex

______________________________________________________________

As a Commander, Rex's commitment would have had to change, too. There are many reasons why I think he did not want to be a Commander, as I discussed here, and I believe one of them includes a change in his commitment to the system he was serving. As commander, he would have had very different responsibilities and a different relationship with both the Republic he was serving and the Men he was commanding. "He enjoyed being a Captain because it allowed him to be right beside–like right beside–his men facing the line of fire. He gets to be in the thick of action as a Captain in a way that he may not always be as a Commander." But I think it would be interesting if didn't want to be a Commander because he also didn't want new & more commitments to the system he served. Maybe, he wanted to stay right where he was because he liked his position relative to his relationship with the men he was commanding AND relative to the commitments he held.

[dizzymoods]

the logical conclusion of “just google it” and “it’s not my job to educate you” btw. I’m gonna let conservative conspiracy theories fester and be morally superior about it 😘

The right wing media sphere cuts all sorts of (means tested) propaganda and blasts it 24/7 on social media and msm.

in an effort to not appear woke, Kamala said “we’ll follow the law” on trans issues. no education, no counter messaging. that’s like the one substantial statement she had about trans people this cycle.

Oh! actually no. Her socials team made a “trump did transgender surgeries for prisoners” gotcha post.

& now the dems are blaming woke gender ideology and not their and their media’s ineptitude at counter messaging

i was a swimmer & swim coach. both sides of the sport of concern. it’s super easy to talk about trans girls in sports. There’s biological dis/advantages all over that nobody cares about. there’s economic dis/advantages that literally has no bearing in ppls mind. for scheduling reasons one of my five yr olds trained with 7-9 yr olds so she smoked her age group at every meet. ppl thought she was a natural. turns out she just happened to go thru harder training and pursued the older kids, inflating her abilities.

A republican governor said why would i waste time legislating the four kids in the entire states scholastic sports leagues? simple as that. more than momala did. smh

Ppl were complaining earlier that nobody knew of kamala’s policies. okay well instead of brat summer maybe talk about that! it’s not my job to educate ppl on her policies 😤

[cyclone-rachel]

Thoughts on The Boys, episodes 2 and 3:

Episode 2:

Huh. Guess I have to watch The Wire.

Will Ferrell? What are you doing here

Guess they couldn’t have Clancy Brown play the coach

He played the coach, right

Oh hey, he’s back!

You don’t know the half of his low point

“sensitivity readers” and how many of those did you hire?

hahahaha

he’s gonna be fun

“braindead maniac” does describe the comic version

Of course

Don’t take anything they give you

Oh, it’s his mom that’s doing that stuff

Far from “wee” Hughie.

wait who’s this guy playing the boyfriend, I feel like I’ve seen him before

Oh he was the original Dove on Titans, that makes sense

she has a speech therapist?

I love her so much

Oh dear

Fuck off, Butcher

Oh no, they’re making a movie about Ryan

“Homeboy” oh no

Anakin too

This man says volumes with his face

again, I love Sage

Ashley changed her look! I forgot when she ditched the bangs

Oh ouch

Do you not know what the word solo means

That’s the exact wrong advice to give him

Is she 32?

oh she’s a decade older. I see.

Is that the right idea?

What are they doing

Ryan is not a good actor

Using the Captain America line, I see.

Yikes.

He’s gonna go on a power trip

Damn, really?

I want Kimiko’s jacket

Nothing like free hotel breakfast

Oh no, these weirdos are flat earthers too?

“Starlight is a lizard person” jesus

not the minion memes

oh they are calling him Dakota Bob

“soldier boy held captive by the CIA” well he’s being held captive by someone

fuck, they’re climate change deniers too?

“soldier boy + liberty= secret lovers?” I mean, maybe

gosh there’s so much here.

“stormfront is alive” the fuck she is

“tinfoil hat wearing nazi motherfuckers” correct!

Kimiko are you okay

you can tell this was filmed in 2022 because that’s the year before last’s baja blast

hahaha these guys believe delaware isn’t real?

“alt-Supe”

How dare you come for Tom Hanks

NO

god, Frenchie doesn’t believe in the moon landing?

Kimiko!

omg I love her

CUE TOM CARDY’S RED FLAGS

Hey!

Yeah, you should go to the hospital

So glad that he didn’t mean that

Thank you, Hughie

Haven’t seen him in a while

Clovergenders?

The political commentary on this show is too real.

Hahaha I love her

So like conspiracy theorist Jubilee.

YES GIRL

A-Train redemption? That would be nice.

Let him have his moment, man.

YIKES

He’s gonna have to work on his restraint

Kimiko are you okay

Firecracker said “fuck the French” I guess

She’s not gonna do it

That’s like 3 references in one

Drown his ass in the chocolate fountain

“Zionist cabal” NO

Goddamn

Run, bitch!

Hughie cheering on his girlfriend I love them so much your honor

oh hey she’s back!

Go off, Hughie

ooooh Kimiko what are you doing

Episode 3

This is not going to go well.

Also look how few Starlight supporters there are compared to the Homelander supporters

Fuck off

“they want to get rid of superheroes” and what do they think Starlight is, then?

What has she actually said?

There are not seven of them.

I do really like those suits

Oh good, Butcher seems to be doing the right thing

SHE’S ANTI-VAX TOO?

gosh, I do kind of hope she doesn’t believe all of this and is just looking up what will cause the most controversy and clicks. Would be funnier if she was a true believer though.

She’s not wrong

He is that petty

“make a sandwich out of her”

Guess we know Starlight says trans rights, good for her

I’m sure he’s gonna try

Just let him go into the basement and see there are no kids in there.

Well, then she’s gonna be out of a job

Love how The Masked Singer hasn’t changed here

Eyyy kimiko’s a hacker good for her

Kimiko and Helena would be great friends

I love Hughie wearing a dolly parton shirt

Maeve didn’t blow a dude

as far as I know

oh this is fun

“dodgy incel” he’s not wrong

Oh, his voice is changing

That’s fuckin’ brutal.

I’m obsessed with her

do I like Ashley now?

She is a girlboss

gosh, this song

Ryan!

It is clearly not nothing

He also helped take down Stormfront

Not wrong on any of those counts

MM is a great character

You two should hide

Oh yikes

Not the best thing to see

Get your head in the game

Oh hey, it’s Nina

Glad Butcher threw those away

Why did she end that sentence with a question if she wasn’t lying

You said she would be fine!

Ashley are you alright

Yes, go after her, queen

What is a dinosaur doing on her poster

Oh damn, Annie as a bully

She is better

Hasn’t she been traumatized enough

Oh no this is very out of date

also how dare they use Maeve’s image for this

OMG THE BOOK OF MORMON GUY

Hughie can chill.

There’s no way the vents are that big

Oh no

Hughie get out of there

“critical supe theory” I think that is just known as the works of Garth Ennis and a few other authors here in the real world, ma’am

Is Stan dead? I can’t remember

How did Homelander know

Hughie’s sweat is going to get him hurt

YIKES

Well they’re not performing that show anytime soon

Yeah, listen to her

You can try

And how would you do that?

why is she watching reality TV

Is he really?

Oh no

Stop talking about how people smell, Homelander

“gave you everything that I ever wanted” oh that was pointed

oh hey mirror Homelander is back

What start?

[moviemunchies]

Honestly, so much of this movie relies on its twists, so I’m struggling to figure out how to talk about it. For a brand new movie like this, I don’t want to spoil it for readers who haven’t seen the movie.

I can tell you that the book wasn’t wasn’t written by Taylor Swift, though?

Ellie Conway is the successful author of the bestselling Argylle series, a sequence of spy thriller novels that have captivated the world. Ellie herself, though, is mostly a recluse, with a small social circle, an anxious disposition, and lives alone with her cat, Alfie. She’s struggling to write an end for the series, so she books a train for herself and Alfie to her parents’ house for a brainstorming session. But on the way, Ellie meets a supposed spy, Aiden, that tells her stories are eerily accurate reflections of an actual, real-life conspiracy in the intelligence community. And now some actual bad guys are after her, and Aiden’s the only one who could save her. The line between fiction and reality gets blurry, and Ellie has to help Aiden figure out what’s actually going on.

Alright, so most of the critical conversation about this movie talk about how twisty the Plot is. And it is very twisty, because, well… that’s kind of The Point of the movie. Like many critics, I can’t help but think that it doesn’t quite all add up. At the end of the day, I’m scratching my head, thinking, “Wait, that was the villains’ plan? They couldn’t think of anything more effective than that?” I also suspect that there will come a point when the viewer will see some of the twists right before they happen.

That being said, I think if you can say to yourself, “Alright, this movie is built on ridiculous twists–so bring it on,” you will have a much better time. I certainly did. 

This being a Matthew Vaughn film, there are pretty great action scenes throughout the movie. It’s not John Wick, no, but it’s stylish, cool, and fun to watch. Towards the end you get some fight scenes that are truly ridiculous, and they’re lovely like that. It reminds me of some of the great fight scenes in the Kingsman movies.

One thing that felt a bit odd was the marketing of the film. The first few minutes are featured heavily in trailers, despite them being a version of the action from the book Ellie Conway wrote, rather than an actual event occurring in Ellie’s life. It’s fine that the sequence is there, because it is actually relevant, and it’s great fun. Still, it felt very weird that it took up so much of the marketing, with Dua Lipa being on the poster for the movie when she’s barely in it.

Henry Cavill is one of the people from that opening sequence, and he continues to be through the movie as an active piece of Ellie’s imagination. And he is delightful, honestly. The man is clearly having a blast with his ridiculous haircut and over-the-top fight scenes, and I say that we should let him continue having a blast with roles like this. 

Honestly, the rest of the cast looked like they were having fun, too. Notably, Bryce Dallas Howard gets to do an active part of action scenes! I don’t know how often she does that, so it’s quite fun. Sam Rockwell gets to be a bit silly as a spy who is supremely competent but absolutely tired of all of this crap and would rather Ellie listen to his instructions, thank you very much.

And the cat! I was fond of Alfie the cat! However! I was less fond of how much of the cat is computer-generated in this movie. I get that for the stunts he’s got to be CGI; they’re not going to put a real cat in danger (especially because he’s played by the director’s wife’s cat). There are still scenes, like one in which he’s on the desk in a hotel room, where he’s quite obviously CGI and it’s distracting.

All in all, it’s a fun movie, though it’s not anywhere near as clever as it thinks it is. There’s too many twists that don’t add up. But if you manage to let go and let yourself have a fun time with a ridiculous spy movie, that mostly knows that it’s a ridiculous spy movie, then you’ll have a good time watching this movie.

[jacqcrisis]

The people on the banpitbull subreddit are straight up conspiracy theorists, I swear to God.

A) the statistics literally point out that the vast majority of pitbull type dogs will never have any issues and b) I'm sorry, the what lobby?

'Am I, a layman and person inexperienced in these breeds, wrong? No, it is the dog experts who gain literally nothing from a historically cheap working class breed being adopted and bred who are wrong.'

Yeah, it's weird how most people outside of your echo chamber disagree with you and how hard it is to find reliable info that agrees with you. Wonder why that is.

Golly gee. It is a mystery why you people sound like hysterical conspiracy theorists. Might have something to do with being in a forum dedicated to blasting you with child mauling pictures and videos 24/7. That might be a contributing factor.

Theres no pit lobby, because there's no incentive for one to exist. There's no conspiracy for getting bully breeds into your home because they are notoriously cheap and easy to acquire breeds so who would benefit from that? 99% of these dogs are just fine with proper training (otherwise the bite and dog related death numbers would be WAY higher considering pitbull type dogs are the second most popular breed group in the US) and the tragedies that happen with them are little different from ones that happen with other breeds every. Fucking. Year.

If you consistently find that your purview is constantly coming against general consensus, expert opinion, and math, then it might be time to admit you need to re-evaluate your worldview and get out of the 'people getting mauled' subreddit.