#it's vile to worship them and ugh

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Hi! congrats for 700 followers!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 i love your fics and one shots <3

following the game… can i suggest Navy (ofc) Rabbit and if possible starfish too 🥺🥺🥺

Thank you 🫶🏼

HI SORRY THIS TOOK A BILLION YEARS BUT GUESS WHAT IT'S DONE NOW :) thank you for your patience sweet friend

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Female Reader

Trope/Prompt: Friends to Lovers x Body Worship

Summary: Law finds out you've never had an orgasm. A doctor treats a patients ailments. You get the idea. MINORS DNI

WC: 3100 hehe

TWs: inexperienced reader, alcohol consuption, fingering, oral sex f receiving, power dynamic kinda, smooth talking Law, body worship and praise, pet names, ugh it's porn.

Climax (+18)

——

Sure, the Heart Pirates weren’t the scariest or the biggest or the baddest pirate crew out there… but they were still pirates at the end of the day. The Heart Pirates could drink. Although Law himself didn’t indulge in as many rowdy evenings as the other members of his crew, he still enjoyed socializing with them. They were his crew, after all. 

This particular evening, Law found himself bored of his work and decided to venture out from his office and into the common areas of the ship. Law shuffled tiredly towards the sound of glasses clinking and slurred voices talking over each other. He almost decides to turn back to his bedroom and try to get some shut eye. His back ached, the twinge in his muscles pleading with him to go to sleep, but he hears something else. Your lilted giggle floats through the metal halls of the submarine and straight into his ears. He wanted to at least see you before he went to bed… something sweet to think about as he fell asleep… 

“Yeah, okay well you’re stupid, so.” You sip from your freshly cracked beer and roll your eyes at Shachi. 

“Wow! What a good insult, y/n! You’re so fucking creative!” Shachi jeers at you with a big fake smile on his face. “I set you up, and you lost! You have to finish your drink, I don’t care that you just opened a new one!” 

“Unless you want me to barf on your cards, probably not.” You chuckle. 

“And I have seen her throw up. It is NOT cute.” Ikkaku pipes up. Ikkaku leans in and whispers purposefully loudly to Penguin. “Shes a scream-puker.”

“Okay so, I am not a scream-puker!” You defend yourself. 

“Yeah, you are.”

Your head whips around towards the galley door. Law stands there leaning against the frame, looking exhausted, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. 

“Last time you had the flu I thought we were under attack and sounded the Tang’s defensive alarm.” Law says as he smirks at you. 

You pout and turn back to the table. 

“Okay that one time… and I was really sick, you know!” You huff. 

“Room for one more?” Law grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the dining table without waiting for a response. 

“Of course, Captain!” Ikkaku chimes in. “We were just telling Shachi he has to finally tell that girl from the last island to stop calling him.” 

“She’s sooooo hot though! And she’s totally into me!” Shachi pleads his case. 

“We will never see her again!” You interject. 

“So? She doesn’t know that! And besides, the phone sex is better than nothing-” 

“You’re having phone sex? Here? On my ship?” Law immediately butts in and cocks his head in confusion. 

“… is that? Is that not cool? Did we have a rule about that or something?” Shachi questions. 

“No.. it’s just vile, Shachi.” Law shakes his head. 

“Hah! He thinks you’re fuckin’ gross!” Ikkaku points and laughs directly at Shachi who was making quite the face. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh whatever, I’ve been getting the best sleep of my life thanks to this! I’m like, almost twice as productive as I normally am!” He tries to build his case back up. 

“Why?” You ask, curious what those things had to do with each other. 

“What do you mean? Everyone knows how great the sleep is after you finish, am I wrong?” 

“You are correct there.” Penguin adds, sipping his beer. Ikkaku hums in agreement.

“Hah, okay. Wouldn’t know.” You add softly, secretly hoping no one would hear you. 

“What?” Ikkaku turns to you and asks. 

“Nothing it’s just that I… wouldn’t…? Know..?” Really pleading with your eyes for her to read between the lines and you wouldn’t have to say it out loud yourself. 

“Wait okay… you’ve never… had an orgasm?” Ikkaku’s eyes widen. 

“Correct.” You take a deep breath. “At least I don’t think I have.” You feign a laugh. 

“Oh you’d KNOW.” Shachi affirms from across the table, also staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Woah… that’s crazy. Are you a virgin or something?” He continues. 

“No!” You defend yourself. “The guys I’ve been with just suck, apparently. Can we stop talking about this?” You knit your eyebrows together and rub your eyes. 

“No way this is fascinating. How old are you? Twenty five? And you’ve never had an orgasm? Like never once? Even by yourself?” Ikkaku probes further. 

“Oooookay guys I never miss a good time to shut the fuck up, so I am going to head to bed!” You stand up from the table and straighten out your boiler suit. You were met with pleas and apologies from your crew mates, while your captain remained stoic during the entire exchange. You felt his eyes burning a hole through you as you left the galley. 

You swiftly make your way through the metal corridors of the ship towards your stateroom. You weren’t upset at your crew mates, it really was fascinating how you had made it this long in your life without feeling the peak of physical pleasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying, you had tried several times to pleasure yourself… and taken a small handful of lovers, none of whom could make you cum. 

You slip off your boiler suit and let it fall to the floor in an off-white heap. You pick out some grey pajamas, a thin camisole and matching shorts, throw it on and sit on your bed to brush out your hair. You untie your hair from the thick bun on your head and let it cascade down your bare shoulders. 

You had almost finished brushing our your locks when you notice the room has somehow changed… as if in the blink of an eye everything was sheathed in a faint blue glow. A familiar blue… 

“Wait no!” You could barely yelp out before you ass meets a different surface in an instant. “Ah!” You gasp and open your eyes to see that you’re no longer in your own bed, but in Law’s. You blink rapidly for a few moments to try and regain your surroundings. You catch your breath. 

You look up and see Law standing at the edge of his bed, looking at you with his shirt unbuttoned. Did he already have it unbuttoned when you were drinking… or did he take it off since then…? 

“Gods, Law.” You sigh and shake your head. “You can’t keep doing that to people. You could have just called my snail or something.” 

“Heard Shachi’s been keeping the line busy tonight.” Law looks down at your barely covered form on his bed. You push your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. He smirks. “So… is it true?” Law walks slowly around to the side of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. He was like an animal stalking its prey. 

“T-the orgasm thing?! T-thats what you brought me here to talk about?!” You could feel your cheeks flush bright red. You sink your head further behind your legs. “I-it’s really not a big deal…” You turn your eyes down to avoid his gaze. 

“You know, the human orgasm is really just a tool.” Law continues eyeing your body and ignoring what you had just said. “The reason it feels so good goes back to our earliest days of evolution. All living organisms, even plants, exist with one similar purpose in common. Do you know what that is, y/n?”

You pick your head up a bit from behind your knees. 

“T-to… n-not get eaten by a larger thing?” You sputter out.

“Reproduction.” Law answers his own question. “Every creature is designed with a primal need to create more of itself…” He paces towards his nightstand and back before taking his massive sword off his back and setting it against the bedpost. “The male orgasm is necessary for human reproduction, obviously. But the female orgasm…” He trails off and you look up and lock eyes. “Is it a bit more complicated…” 

“O-okay?”

“Some professionals say the spasming of the female reproductive organs during orgasm allows for easier penetration through the cervix for the ejaculate to pass through… and some say the female orgasm doesn’t even exist at all…” 

“Are you seriously doctor-ing me about this?!?” You finally find your voice a bit stronger in your throat. “I’ve lived this long without it and-“

“I however, y/n, don’t care what the purpose of it is. And I do know it exists. And I plan on giving you at least one this evening.” Law says as he sheds his button down off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Tattoos on full display, his chiseled abdominal muscles right at your eye level paired with the topic of conversation made you press your legs together even harder. 

“C-captain that is highly unnecessary and unprof-“ You try to protest shakily. 

“Nonsense.” Law steps so his thighs are against the edge of the bed. His right hand comes up to drag two fingers up your calf and rest his palm on your knee. He rubbed soft circles onto your knee with his thumb. “Now if you’re done being so stubborn, we can get started.” 

You leaned back on your elbows and blinked up at the man standing before you, your captain. You couldn’t believe this was really happening, but you were too stunned to question it. You trusted him with your life and more, why not let him try and help you?

“Alright.” You say softly, more to yourself than to Law. 

“Good. Now take your clothes off.” 

You cock your head back in surprise and your eyes widen. 

“Getting straight to it I guess…” You chuckle nervously. 

“We can go slower, if you’d like?” Law takes his hand off your leg, a genuine look of care in his grey eyes. 

“No no! I-it’s fine! I just didn’t, you know… like… well I wasn’t really planning for anyone to see me naked tonight is all!” You say awkwardly. 

“The only thing I care about tonight is pleasuring you. Will you let me?”

You don’t say anything in response, but you lift your thin grey camisole over your head and throw it to the floor. You didn’t look up to see Law’s response, you just shimmied your shorts down your legs and resumed your position laying on Law’s bed. 

Fully bare in front of your captain, you could feel your cheeks become hotter than they’ve ever been. 

“So what should-“ You begin.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Law interrupts. 

“S-sorry?” You question. 

“You are so fucking hot. So pretty.” Law was no longer staring into your eyes, but raking his gaze all over your naked body. “Spread your legs for me, yah?” Law asks, a bit more pleading than his normal demanding tone. It was like something shifted in him once you had taken your clothes off. He returns his hand to your knee, bringing his other hand as well this time to gently push your legs open to expose your sex to him. You hear him suck in a breath. 

Suddenly, Law pounces on you. You’re knocked back on the bed further and your head hits the mattress. Law chuckles playfully above you as he supports himself on his hands, black shaggy hair falling towards your face. 

“Hi.” He grins down at you. 

“H-hi..” You manage to smile back. Law leans down further and begins placing wet kisses along your neck, craning your head to the side almost involuntarily.  “O-oh okay.. t-that’s fine… AH!” You feel a cold hand pinch your left nipple.  

“So sensitive… this is going to be easy..” You feel Law’s mouth curve into a smile as he litters more kisses on you, this time across your collarbone. He moves his head lower and captures your right nipple in his soft lips and sucks gently. You let out a long sigh and throw your head back against the mattress further. Quiet gasps left your mouth as he worked your chest in his hands and tongue. 

Without fully realizing that Law’s hand had left your breast, you feel it cup your mound firmly without warning. You try to close your legs instinctively at the sudden contact. 

“Ah ah, no y/n. You’ve been hiding this pretty thing from me for too long.” Law says as he pulls back from your chest. He pressed his fingers against the top of your slit and started rubbing it in circles. “I promise it’ll feel so good.”  

Law leans up and places a gentle kiss on your parted mouth, you were too dazed to kiss him back just yet. He pulls away and settles himself on the floor on his knees in front of where you were laying. Strong arms hook under your knees and drag you swiftly so that your legs were hanging off the bed and your sex was mere inches from his hungry gaze and spit-slicked lips. 

“Even more fucking beautiful than I’d imagined…” Law says as he spreads your pussy with his thumb and forefinger, exposing your throbbing clit and dripping hole to him. “So eager and ready for me…” 

“Wait you imagi- SHIT!” You cry out as you feel Law’s hot tongue lap at your clit. It was so good, so thoughtful, so precise… he knew exactly what he was doing. “Oh my god-“ You had never received better head and he was only just getting started… maybe he was going to fulfill his promise. He alternative between suckling at your sensitive pearl and taking wide swaths over your whole sex with his entire mouth, as if he was trying to drink up every last drop your pussy was offering him. 

“So sweet…” You could barely understand what Law was muttering about, he was so drunk off your essence that all you could really hear was pained moans and groans of “mmhmmpph” as he enjoyed your taste. Your back was arching off the bed and you grabbed at Law’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you wanted to make sure he kept going. 

You moaned loudly as he slipped two fingers into your eager hole. He distracted you with harsh sucks to your clit as he crooked his fingers upwards inside of you. 

“Wait fuck!” You cry out, feeling a foreign sensation as Law pulled on that spot inside your walls. 

“Yeah there it is baby… there it is right there… let it happen…” Law cooed into your wetness as he continued to hammer into your sweet spot with his two fingers. He resumed his ministrations on your clit. 

“Law! I can’t!” You gasp as that warmth and pressure in your lower half grew stronger and tighter. 

“You can… get out of that pretty little head of yours, babe. Stop thinking and just let it go…” 

You try to center yourself and clear your mind, eliminating all thoughts except for the feeling of Law’s hands and mouth on you. It wasn’t hard to do, his presence took over your every sense entirely… the heady smell of his cedar cologne, the absolute determined and lust-filled look in his eyes that were peeking up at you from between your legs, and the overwhelming feeling of his mouth lapping up your juices with fervor. 

“I-I think… ah! Fuck!” Your shoulders lurch forward on their own, your walls starting to tighten sporadically around Law’s thick fingers. 

“You’re so close, pretty girl… just a little more… squeeze those tits for me, yah?” Law asks before returning his mouth to your throbbing nub. 

You do as you’re told and you wrap your manicured hands around your own breasts. You pull desperately at your nipples and cry out from the intense pleasure. 

“Law!” You moan your captain’s name as tears prick the corners of your eyes from the sensation. 

“Cum.” Law growls.

With a strangled scream, everything in your body released and your breath caught in your throat. Euphoric waves pulsed from your sex outwards and you felt the tears fall freely from your lash line as your legs shook. Your scream turned into a moan, and then fell into a whine as you suddenly felt too sensitive to have Law’s touch on you and you squirmed away. 

You caught your breath after what could have been 30 seconds or 5 minutes and take a look between your legs. Law stared up at you, face and bangs soaked in some sort of liquid… your liquid… and a stupid grin plastered across his face. 

“Holy fuck, I’m sorry I-“ You stutter out through heaving breaths. 

“Don’t.” Law stops you. “Don’t apologize. That was so fucking hot. Didn’t peg you for a squirter. Nice.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as he stands up. Your face flushes impossibly redder. “How do you feel?” Law asks. 

“I…” You flop your head back onto Law’s bed. “I feel like I got hit by a sea train but also incredibly light? My legs feel like pudding.” You sit back up on your elbows. “Law… captain… That was amazing…” You smile up at him. 

“Good.” Law looks down at the mess you’ve made between your legs and on his comforter. He looks down at his chest and sees even more remnants of your release. 

“How about we get cleaned up before bed and I can show you a few more things, yah? You’re staying with me tonight.” Law offers you a hand and you stand up on shaky legs to follow him to the bathroom. 

“Hmmm maybe this time it can be your turn?” You glance down at Law’s obvious bulge straining against his spotted jeans. “I owe you one, right?” You smirk. 

— —

>:)

[thhouseofblack]

Deleted scene from "My Love I Kept You Well"

HERA

Hera moaned elegantly as she sunk into her divine divan, swirling the delicious wine in her goblet as she watched Athena stalk back and forth like a caged peacock. Her armoured sandals clacked sharply against the marbled floor of her abode, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her cloak billowing with every sharp turn. The air thrummed with the weight of her divine wrath, each breath she took an effort to contain herself.

Hera took a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, savouring its taste.

Let her work herself into a frenzy.

Darling Athena always did.

Finally, she stopped mid-stride, her wild eyes locking onto her. “How can I tell him?” she demanded, her voice taut, trembling – obviously not with fear, but with fury. “How can I look him in the eye and tell him that his wife – his loyal, faithful, loving wife – is being…” She sucked in a sharp breath, unable to say the words, her hands shaking with rage.

“That that thing – that vile creature – forces himself upon her, and she cries for his name? His name, not the bastard’s who holds her!”

Hera did not move. She only observed, chin propped upon one hand, the other still idly playing with her goblet.

It was a true pity, and she had done her dues with regard to the disrespect to her domains that goat boy had shown twice over now.

Ugh, some mortals think they are so above it all just because some silly goddess had their ego boosted by them.

Athena’s face twisted further, her pacing resuming with greater fervour. “And how, by the gods, am I supposed to tell him this and then preserve his life still?” she went on, words tumbling out in rapid succession. “The moment he hears, he will throw himself at the walls of Troy as though he were a foolish mortal like the rest of them, as though he has not spent months upon months unravelling this war with patience and cunning! He will rush, he will climb – he will do something so utterly Odysseus and let his grief and fury devour him whole!”

Hera sighed. “Yes, well. That does sound like your precious little boy.”

Thinking of Athena’s Precious Odysseus always made her wish to giggle. Such a charming little thing, so full of light and love and devotion to his wife and wife alone. She was incredibly impressed by all of it. Why she had blessed the hero so that when he would return to his homeland, he and his wife could fill their pretty castle up with all the children they wished for.

Hera took another savoury sip.

Athena ignored her. Her fingers pressed against her temples as though attempting to force order into her mind, as though divine thought alone could undo the madness of the situation they had at hand. But then – her hands dropped, and something darker flickered across her face.

Aww look at her plotting war and death – how adorable she was.

“What if,” she murmured, “her womb quickens with that wretch’s child?”

Hera let out an inelegant snort.

Athena blinked, startled.

“Oh, do not be ridiculous,” Hera said, waving a lazy hand, careful not to let her wine spill. “I have seen to it that Paris is utterly, entirely, and quite irreversibly impotent.”

Athena froze.

Hera arched a brow. “What? You are surprised?”

“…You did that?”

Her mouth thinned. “She is from Sparta,” she said pointedly, sitting up now, setting her goblet down with a sharp clink. “One of the three cities – along with Argos and Mycenae of course – that I love the best. And one of the few places that worships me as I am meant to be worshipped.” Her expression hardened. “Of course I watch over that child.”

Athena let out a slow breath, pressing a hand over her heart, her fury not quelled, but momentarily steadied. She nodded – not in gratitude, but in understanding.

A new thought, it seemed, came swiftly to her dear girl. She turned sharply to Hermes, who had been lounging off to the side, silent and watchful as always, his eyes gleaming with some secret amusement that Hera did not care to unravel.

“You,” Athena said, striding toward him, urgency returning to her voice. “Can you not take her? Whisk her away as you have done before to others? She is the wife of your own great-grandchild, Hermes. She holds in her embrace another one of your descendants. Would you not see her safe?”

Hermes tilted his head, a slow, knowing smile curling at the edges of his mouth. “By that logic, dear sister,” he said, his voice rich with amusement, “should you not have gone to Zeus first? After all, is Penelope not of the blood of Perseus’ only daughter? Surely her great-grandfather would be most concerned for her well-being?”

On the other side of the chamber, a deep, rumbling snort cut through the air.

“Oh, please,” Poseidon muttered, rolling his eyes as he lifted his own cup of wine to his lips. “By that logic, Zeus should be running about rescuing everyone and their mothers. Half of Olympus and half the mortal realm are of his blood.”

Hera’s frown deepened.

Because unfortunately, Poseidon had a point.

Which infuriated her.

Ugh. She hated when her stupid younger brother made sense.

Her fingers tightened around her goblet. Yes, she knew Zeus went around “spreading his blood,” as he so delicately liked to put it. She knew it, had suffered it, had spent centuries exacting her vengeance for it.

And oh, how irritating it was.

Sometimes – sometimes, she thought – if only she could lock Zeus in a little cage, tuck him away where no one else could touch him. Play with him as she pleased, twist and mould him into exactly what she wanted. A husband who belonged to her and her alone.

The thought was so delightful, so deliciously entertaining, that she let out a quiet, delighted giggle.

Silence followed.

All eyes turned toward her.

Athena blinked, Hermes arched a brow, and even Poseidon paused, his cup still halfway to his mouth.

Hera only hummed to herself, reaching for her goblet once more, taking another slow sip of her wine as if she had not just sent every god in the room into mild concern.

“Shut it, Poseidon,” she said airily, waving a hand in dismissal. “You may be my favourite brother but let us not pretend you are any better than Zeus when it comes to your lovers. If anything–” her lips curled, her gaze flicking lazily over to him– “you are infinitely worse.”

Poseidon scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Oh?” she arched a brow. “Would you like for me to bring about a list of both your progeny and compare who has fathered the most?”

Poseidon scowled. Hermes, meanwhile, smothered a laugh behind his hand.

But then, in a truly devious display of perfect timing, Hermes straightened, his smirk returning in full force as he leaned toward Poseidon, eyes alight with mischief.

“Speaking of which,” he drawled, “how is young Thetis’ boy faring? I had heard you had taken it upon yourself to give his little lover – another of Father’s grandchildren, some– shall we say – personal lessons in how to ride a horse?”

The room exploded.

Athena choked on air, nearly knocking over an entire golden brazier in her sputtering. Poseidon, mid-drink, actually coughed – her precious wine spilling from his lips as his entire face twisted into one of pure outrage.

Hera laughed, full-bodied and bright, draping herself over the cushions as she clutched her goblet. “Oh, my dear brother,” she purred, her voice rich with amusement. “You’ve upset Thetis, you know. Last I remember she was in quite the state over it.”

Poseidon, still wiping the last drops of wine from his beard, scowled. “Over what?”

Hera smirked. “Over you.” She stretched out her fingers, enjoying the way the light caught on her golden rings. “Her son is distraught, you see. Apparently, he was most displeased that his dear lover was stolen away and ravished by none other than the Lord of the Sea.”

Athena let out a sharp noise of disgust. Hermes all but howled with laughter.

Poseidon groaned, setting his cup down with a loud thud. “Oh, come now,” he muttered. “It was not as though the boy fought me on it. He was so sweet, so pretty–” He sighed wistfully. “And such a lovely, gentle heart. How could I resist?”

Hera cooed, reaching out to stroke his hair, knowing he will relent because it was her. Her fingers combing through the sea-salted curls as one might pet their favourite cow – though she did not have favourites, she loved all her cows equally and dearly.

Much like her children.

“Of course you could not,” she soothed mockingly, her voice dripping with indulgence. “You would have needed self-control for that, and we all know you’ve never possessed a single grain of it.”

Hermes howled again, slapping his knee as Poseidon pouted up at her, brows furrowed, looking for all the world like a sulking child.

Hera chuckled, ruffling his hair fondly before withdrawing her hand and reclining once more against her divan. She lifted her goblet and took another long, luxurious sip, wholly unbothered by the absolute mess her younger brother had made of things.

But then–

Athena snapped.

“For Olympus’ sake!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “Can we focus?”

Hera glanced at her, as Hermes wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. Poseidon only raised a brow, reaching for his wine once more.

Athena, however, was undeterred.

Her gaze locked onto Hera’s, sharp and determined, her mind already racing ahead of them all. “You must go to Grandfather Oceanus and Grandmother Tethys,” she ordered. “Tell them to send Periboea to Ilium, to Penelope’s side.”

She hummed, tilting her head. Hera traced a finger along the rim of her goblet, considering.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “I can attempt to sneak Periboea in.”

Athena’s eyes brightened, hope flashing across her face.

“But,” Hera continued smoothly, “there is little else I can do. You know as well as I that Troy is Zeus’ own city.” She swirled her wine, watching the deep red liquid dance against the gold. “He adores it more than any other in the world, and he does not appreciate our interference – especially when it does not serve his interests.”

Athena’s jaw tightened.

Hera smiled at her, slow and knowing.

“You know this, dear girl,” she said softly. “Do you think he will let me play my hand so easily?”

She rested further into the silk-laden comfort of her divan. She ran her fingers idly along the stem of her goblet, watching the light of the heavens dance along its intricately made designs. Her precious Hephaestus made such wonderful gifts for her.

“I like it not,” she admitted, her voice softer now, more pensive. “I, too, am fond of Penelope. It was my blessing – a gift to Mother Tethys, for her Periboea who had borne seven sons and yet still not the daughter she longed for, that resulted in her birth after all. She is a rare one among mortals – steadfast, wise, and loyal beyond all reason.” Her lips pressed together. “But, my dear girl, you must forget her. Ignore her plight for the moment and turn your mind to what truly matters.”

Athena’s face darkened, but before she could protest, Poseidon let out a heavy sigh.

“Hera is right,” he said, his voice weighted with something uncharacteristically serious. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his expression thoughtful. “We want our victory over the Trojans, and to achieve it we must turn our attention to Troy, you must turn your attention to bringing down the infallible walls of Troy. That is what matters.”

Athena’s jaw clenched, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. She could understand how her brilliant girl was feeling – one of her chosen being treated in such a demeaning manner. But she would not find sympathetic ears in the company of Hermes and Poseidon – or most men – in this qualm of hers.

“Oh, there he goes, bragging again,” she drawled, swirling her wine as she cast Poseidon a dry look. “Yes, yes, we all know you built the damn thing.”

Poseidon smirked. “And thus, I know it will not fall easily.”

Athena inhaled sharply through her nose. Oh, Hera’s precious girl. She was clever – cleverer than all of them, in truth. She surely knew this was the best course of action, but that did not make it easier to swallow.

Then, with impeccable timing, Hermes – ever sly – rose smoothly to his feet and strode toward Athena. With an exaggerated sigh, he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his easy embrace.

“Dearest sister,” he crooned, “if we bring down the walls of Troy, the matter of darling Odysseus’ wife will be solved before we know it.”

Athena did not move, but her shoulders loosened – if only slightly.

Hera tilted her head, gazing at her gently. She had seen Athena furious before. She had seen her livid, seething, ready to tear the world apart. But this – this was something quieter. Something more dangerous.

They had done what they could for Penelope.

Hera reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over Athena’s knuckles.

“We have done all we can,” she murmured.

[thydungeongal]

Anyway speaking of depictions of orcs in fantasy RPGs, while D&D has been at times quite bad even in recent years one particular take that is particularly relevant to me because it's from a game I think is mostly pretty good that takes the cake. Like, I'm sure there have been worse takes because FATAL exists and that one is hateful to anyone that isn't white and male and human, but in Races & Cultures: Races of the Underground for Rolemaster Standard System the good folks at ICE decided to offer us some additional context on their particular take on orcs and it wasn't great! To give y'all the bullet points:

The origin of orcs is hypothesized to be related to the elves in some way although elves will deny this. The book provides the point of view of an in-setting human researching the history of orcs and stumbling upon this fragment of knowledge.

Their misshapen bodies reflect the evil in their hearts ugh okay that's just bad.

The fair elves fought a genocidal war against the orcs and said war was literally called something like the war of racial purity.

The orcs turned to the worship of gods of darkness and the underworld because they were the only ones willing to shelter them.

Now obviously that is fucked up and like I feel there may have been some attempt there at providing some shades of grey instead of what we're often used to in fantasy RPGs, but at the same time the text is unambiguous in saying that orcs are vile and evil.

But all it did was make me sympathize with the orcs and hate the elves and I'm not sure if that was the intent but it really doesn't seem so because, at the same time, saying that orcs are evil and misshapen.

[aya-betabitch-academy]

Hiiii, konnichiwa, like, oh my freakin’ gawd, you nasty little gooner losers! 💖 I *so* know your gross little type, ugh! 😝 You’re those obsessed freaks who cram your sad, crusty cum-covered hard drives with worship pics and vid clips of bratty idol influencers or model dream-girls who’d rather die than breathe the same air as you, lol! 😂💅 It’s, like, *beyond* pathetic—slapping some hot girl who doesn’t even know you’re alive on your phone background, her Insta profile pic as your screensaver like some tragic little otaku fanboy shrine—hours and hours drooling over gigabytes of her perfect digital sparkle, all downloaded to your grimy device like you’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell, omg! 😈✨ Do you *actually* think she’d find it cute that you’re, like, *sooo* obsessed with her? Her number one stalker—knowing her birthday like it’s your own, memorizing her exes like a total creep, scouring the web for new pics just to feel some fake-ass connection to her life—eww, srsly, do you think she’d wanna know a *loser* like you exists? A weirdo who jerks off to her every day like it’s your freakin’ religion? Triple eww—no way, you delusional disaster! 💋🌸

Reality check, you absolute fucktard, and trust me, I’m speaking for *all* the hot-girl models and celeb babes you’ve hoarded pics and vids of over the years—WE HATE YOU SO MUCH! Uh-huh, every single one of us can’t stand your nasty ass, duh! 😘 The *worst* part of being popular and kawaii is having gross beta males like you drooling over us without our consent, like some icky little bug we wanna squash! We don’t think it’s cute that you’ve got a crush on us—we think it’s nasty, slimy, and so freakin’ pathetic it makes us wanna barf glitter! 😂💕 We don’t find it adorable that you’ve watched every clip we’ve ever been in, pausing and replaying like a total perv. We don’t give a single fuck about you “liking” our social media posts—those pics of us in lingerie or bikinis that you stare at with your sweaty paws—we hate that shit! We don’t care about your dumb opinions on *anything*—who the hell even are you to have a take, anyway? You’re a nobody, a total fucking loser, a zero! 💅✨ If we ever talk about you, it’s just to giggle and drag you—mocking your sad little life ‘til we’re bored, then we twirl our hair and forget you ever existed, ‘cause you’re *that* irrelevant, bye-bye, creep! 😝💖

Like, omg, the thought of you collecting our pics and vids, sitting alone in your dark, nasty bedroom jerking off to us—it’s so gross I can’t even deal! 😈 Gooning for girls who are *way* too good for you is wrong, wrong, *wrong*—and you *know* it, don’t you, you little reject? You know you shouldn’t be staring at us without our permission, drooling over our kawaii prettiness like some entitled perv. You know you shouldn’t be touching yourself to our hot bods, our cute butts, our perfect boobs—ugh, it’s so vile I’m gagging! You know you shouldn’t be getting off to us when we hate you so much, when we’d rather choke on a mochi than look at you! Right? Right! 😘🌸 Soooo, here’s the tea, you sniveling simp—I want you to *delete* us. Yep, DELETE EVERYTHING, you disgusting freak! Every pic, every vid you’ve stashed of us—EVERY last one, you pathetic goon! One folder at a time, drag ‘em to the trash, then PERMANENTLY delete them so they’re gone forever—watch us ditch you for good, you sad little worm! Your fave pics, the ones you’ve stared at ‘til your eyes crossed—poof! Your most-watched clips, the ones you’ve replayed ‘til your hand’s numb—gone, bye-bye! 💋💕 Delete, delete, delete, you rejection-simp—feel that sting as every sparkly pixel of us vanishes, knowing we’ll never be yours, never even notice you, while you’re left with nothing but your tears and your crusty socks, lmao! 😂✨

Srsly, do you even *get* how revolting you are? Sitting there in your mom’s basement or some dank hole, surrounded by empty ramen cups and sticky tissues, building these creepy digital altars to girls who’d scream if they saw you IRL—eww, it’s giving stalker vibes so hard I’m choking on my strawberry mochi smoothie! 😝 You’ve probs got folders labeled “Waifu Queen” or some cringe-ass name, looping clips of her giggling or flipping her hair, thinking you’re in her orbit when you’re just a ghost she’d yeet into the void! 💅 And don’t even start with how you zoom in on every pic, analyzing every detail like some deranged loser—her smile, her outfit, the background—trying to play detective while your life’s a total trainwreck! 😂💖 You’re out here memorizing her boba order from some random story, thinking it’s “bonding,” when she’d legit call the cops if she knew you were this obsessed—yikes, babe, yikes! 😈 And the worst? You *know* you’re a beta, you *know* you’re beneath us, but you keep gooning anyway, like some addict who can’t quit—gross, gross, GROSS! 🌸 You’re probs refreshing her feeds every five minutes, panting like a dog, saving every story, every post, every blurry pap snap—pathetic much? Yaaas! 💋

So, like, I’m *not* kidding—delete it *all*, you nasty freak! Open that secret stash you’ve got hidden under fake file names—don’t act dumb, I *know* it’s there—and start trashing every last bit of us! ✨ Watch that bikini shoot you snagged from three summers ago disappear—sayonara, loser! That vacay vid you ripped off TikTok? Trash it, gone forever, you don’t deserve it! 💕 Every screenshot, every blurry tabloid pic, every “candid” you stole from her stories—drag it to the bin and hit that permanent delete button ‘til your screen’s as empty as your soul, you sad little perv! 😘 Feel that rejection hit you like a truck as you watch us slip away, knowing we’re out there living our best lives with studs who don’t even clock your existence, while you’re stuck with nothing but your sweaty hands and your shattered dreams—aww, poor baby! 😂💖 And when it’s all gone, when your hard drive’s as dead as your social life, just sit there and *wallow* in it, ‘cause that’s what you get for being such a disgusting beta goon! 💅 You’re probs crying already, sniffling into your anime body pillow—boo-hoo, too bad, idgaf! 😝

This is your life now, you tragic zero—us hot girls, us perfect waifus, we’re *done* with you, and you’re gonna erase every trace of us like the obedient little simp you are! 🌸 I’m your kami-sama, your kawaii mean girl goddess, and I’m ordering you to clean up your act—or at least your hard drive—‘cause you’re a disgrace to even *dream* about us, let alone stare at us! 💋 So hop to it, loser—delete, delete, delete, and sob about it later, ‘cause I’m sipping my matcha latte, twirling my hair, and laughing at your misery, idgaf! 😂💕

So, no you’ve finished wiping your sad little hard drive clean of all those hot girls who hate you, you must be feeling *so* lost, lol! 😝💅 Since you’re too much of a loser to figure it out yourself, let your kawaii kami-sama throw you some options to goon to instead—don’t say I never did anything for you, you tragic desu! 😈✨

First off, gay porn—yaaas, babe, why not? 🌸 Switch it up and drool over some beefy daddies who’d still never touch you, lmao! 😂 You can pant over their abs and biceps like it’s a shoujo panel, imagining you’re in the mix while they’re way outta your league—kinda like the girls you used to stalk, but now with extra sweat and grunting, eww! 💋 It’s perfect for a beta like you—still unattainable, still humiliating, and you’ll probs cry into your pastel plushies after, which is *so* on brand, ikr! 😘💕

Then, oh em gee, ugly old fat grannies—let’s get *real* nasty, you perv! 😝 Picture those wrinkled, saggy vibes—grannies with bingo wings and dentures, hobbling around in floral nightgowns and little bunny slippers, ugh! 💅 You can goon to that, you disgusting little gremlin—stare at their liver spots and imagine them winking at you with their cataracts, lol! 😂🌸 It’s so gross it’s almost a slay—nobody’s fighting you for that, and it’s still miles above your paygrade, you sad sack! 💖✨

And furniture catalogues? Oh my gawd, you absolute weirdo, I’m cackling! 😂💋 Like, what, you gonna jerk it to a leather sectional or a Scandinavian dining set? Lmao, picturing you panting over a glossy IKEA mag, rubbing one out to a bookshelf with “minimalist charm”—you’re such a freak, I can’t breathe! 😝💕 Go for it, you unhinged loser—hump that coffee table vibe ‘til your mom walks in and screams, ‘cause that’s peak beta energy right there! 😈🌸

And of course, hentai—duh, babe, it’s practically made for rejects like you! 💖✨ Tentacle stuff, big-eyed waifus who’d still reject you IRL, all those sparkly over the top moans and blushy faces—it’s your natural habitat, you basement-dwelling creep! 😘 You can goon ‘til your eyes bleed to some 2D goddess who’s still too good for you, and bonus points if it’s got some *weird* shit—like monster girls or whatever you’re into, you nasty little perv! 💅😂 I mean, it’s not like you’ve got standards, so dive in and drown in it, loser! 🌸💋

So there you go, you sniveling disaster—gay porn, granny grossness, furniture porn, and hentai heaven! 😝 Pick your poison and goon your pathetic little heart out, as long m as it’s not hot girls or waifus ‘kay? I’ll be here, laughing at how low you’ve sunk, idgaf! 💕😈 You’re welcome, you total zero—keep those hands busy and those dreams delusional, ‘cause hawt girls are *so* not for you, duh! 💖✨ TTYL, you absolute tragedy—mwah mwah mwah! 😂😘

[c0untry-mouse]

First set:

1

14

Second set:

18

24

and for this or that:

5

9

1. What are the ideal nudes that someone could send you?

Oh just something surprising. Something I'm not expecting. Could be anything, tummy, arms, a lascivious smirk, a peak of tattoo or harness or side boob. It's not about the body so much as the tease.

14. What body part would you worship on other people to the end of time because NGHHHH?

I'd love to get my mouth around some t-dick that's a full-on bucket list item. Other than that it's be whatever part gets the best reaction. Neck? Shoulder? Tummy? Inner thigh? Fingers down my throat? Whatever makes them lose their mind and start begging for it.

18 You can do only ONE thing to your partner sex-wise for an entire month. What is your pick?

Hahaha. Am I getting promoted? Whatever she wants. Whatever she will allow.

24 Have you or would you ever masturbate with toothpaste/tiger balm/numbing balm etc.?

Toothpaste?? Is that ... Is that a thing?? Doesn't that.... Smart?! No. No unexpected substances in the garden tyvm.

5 What’s a better gag? Panties or Socks?

I'm thinking both of those would be texturally unpleasant.... I mean panties (ugh, vile word) is more sexually exciting sure but leather or rubber or a good old plastic ball gag or metal bit would certainly be a more pleasant sensory experience....

9 Obedient sub or Bratty sub?

Oh GOD bratty every time. Whichever role I'm in, the sub needs to be a complete cunt and get punished for it, that's the only way it's fun. 😂

[vaingloriosa]

Ok yes. I saw a random tweet that led me down a rabbit hole and now I’m here. I’ve been looking for a sane part of the internet of Dechartgames that isn’t shrouded in worship. I just went through some of your old posts and omg. Also a woc who didn’t feel QUITE comfortable in the fandom by the time late 2018 rolled around. Ugh I really wanted to dive into all of those links about the negative impact B + A’s community has had in the fandom but they’re gone now :-( Also I wanted to point out how Neil seems to be a better ally and who has also moved on from DBH even though he also streams on twitch.

Someone else pointed out how B+A only care about subs and money which yes. Twitch subs and their merch appears to be their bread and butter at the moment, BUT there’s this one particular fan of theirs that seems to go overboard with the donations and gift subs, sometimes dropping more than a half a grand worth of gift subs and stickers in one stream. I think to date they’ve gifted 4000 subs (which Twitch weirdly announced). If it were me I would be a bit concerned because of the signs of para social relationships and not wanting someone to go broke over a free to watch platform. But nope they smile and move on lol.

So curious as to what off camera interactions you’ve witnessed because as we know social media and what is essentially their weekly tv show is not 100% real. Again comforting to see some of this shared suspicion and feelings. This has turned into a long rant but yes also their constant praise of DBH even during all of the bad PR David Cage was getting back in 2018-2019 is gross. They don’t have to burn bridges, but these anniversary streams and such omg let it go. Idk how you can be an ally to the LGBTQ+ community and still speak positively about a guy who allegedly did a nude composite of Elliot Page and displayed it at a party.

omg hiiiiii i would luvvv to know what tweet u saw that led your way to me......... also, yeah i've changed urls on this acct waaay teww many times that most links to my lectures don't work </3 though i appreciate that you were interested in them! most are real long rambles that are an endless stream of consciousness. it's always the same stuff i say so dw you're not missing out on much loll. neil <333 nothing but love and respect to neil. most of the cast came out of that game unscathed pero alas we have causalities SAD! well, there are better actors out there.

idk how twitch works however damnnnn that sounds like a lot of money being blown on people that do not deserve it. like yeah, you can spend your money as you like though whenever i think how people can use that money in more meaningful ways, it just upsets me. i remember years ago, i had reached out to somebody on twt who had some really terrible experiences in the dechartgames community and let me in on some insight and it's sooooooo bizarre how more ppl haven't spoken out about it then again, it isn't THAT weird given the cult-like environment they've cultivated.

not me personally but again, the ppl that have messaged me in the past during the height of the dechartgamism where i was talking extensively about them. yeah, idk how these ppl who obviously own a laptop and computer who could easily search up david cage online and find out the gross and vile shit he has done and still advocate for him and his games. respect but i do think they should really move on from dbh like everyone else and explore the world around them. to me, you cannot be an ally and associate yourself with bigots and bigoted media. it really goes hand in hand and if they cared, they would close up the dbh shop for good

[maslows-pyramid-scheme]

black-pill lesbians: *organize months-long harassment campaigns to flood the inboxes of bisexuals and taunt them about their rape and calling them vile names*

piqued-curiosity: we need to have compassion for these women, I will always empathize with them no matter what they say, you have to understand they're angry about bisexual homophobia. and it doesn't matter what lesbians say to bihets anyway actually you're the bigot here for making such a big deal out of this.

lesbian: im so lonely because bisexuals are self-victimizers that don't understand their stupid rape and abuse aren't real oppression its so homophobic how they think they're real people

piqued: well you have to understand lesbians are really lonely so of course we're moved to just ignore rape apologia, I don't understand why you're demonizing me for no reason

lesbian: bi women are identical to TIMs, they're no more similar to us than het men, they're nothing but dick worshipers, their supposed abuse is just a ploy to weaponize against lesbians

piqued: well maybe I would have used different language, but ugh stop getting hung up on her calling you dick worshipers and belittling your rape and abuse and comparing you to het men. She's NOT a misogynist she's very insightful and you male worshipers need to listen to her.

bisexual: bisexuals shouldn't feel ashamed about having OSA, it's just a natural part of bisexuality.

piqued: what homophobic bullshit is this this makes me so angry this shows you people don't have any real issues

and this woman is supposedly the gold standard? soooo kind just because she pays lip service to the idea that most obviously crass behavior against bisexuals is bad (but then she says ok maybe its bad but it doesn't affect anything so who cares)? she's had excuses for them at every turn, but the most inoffensive words of bisexual positivity is proof bisexuals aren't really oppressed?

sorry this is so petty and random but no one takes anything against bisexuals seriously its all so clearly a game to them where they have to come out looking good but also put bisexuals in their place.

I think it's unfair to lesbians to take the actions of the and attribute them to the majority; lesbians and bisexual women (and gay and bisexual men) are the only people who will ever understand what it's like to have a 'different' sexuality in our heterosexist society.* I personally believe that this similarity far outweighs any of our real or perceived differences.

But I know the soul-crushing, hateful behaviour you're talking about. I've seen how 'black-pilled' lesbians treat bisexual activists on here - how they mock and harass bisexual rape victims, how they speak about us using degrading, sexualised, or biphobic language, how they belittle our experiences with discrimination ('it's just homophobia and misogyny' - that's from Piqued, if I'm not mistaken), how they shamelessly reframe bisexual mistreatment to attack gendies/misogynists/men ('Amber Heard is a victim of misdirected lesbophobia'), how they involve themselves in our business while simultaneously complaining about bisexuals involving themselves in lesbian affairs. I've also seen how their followers and the followers of their followers just... look the other way.

But it doesn't matter, does it? To black-pilled lesbians, an imperfect lesbian is only ever a well-meaning victim, and an imperfect bisexual is only ever a bad faith abuser/oppressor/handmaiden/what-have-you.

Anon, I'm so sorry if you've been on the receiving end of the black-pilled bullshit (and it's defo not petty and random - there's so goddamn much of it!). You're absolutely right - and feel free to reach out and vent anonymously/in my dms/to me on discord whenever you want.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After that gorgeous sequel rant, would you be willing to share your thoughts on reylo?

Ugh.

Once again, that is the most succinct, easiest, answer I can supply. But it's so short, and that just won't do.

I mentioned in a recent post that Dramione comes in a myriad of disguises. Every fandom usually has at least one Dramione ship, you can usually guess which characters the ship will consist of, and while you might not be able to articulate exactly what about it makes it so damn similar to Dramione you will recognize it on sight.

Usually, to me, a Dramione ship features a strong, independent, female lead who may be varying levels of sexually empowered, varying levels of intelligent (Hermione loves to tell us how smart she is but it's not the heart of the ship), is strong, courageous, and noble who depending on the story du jour might slide into depravity.  The real give away is her love interest, always a man, usually a young man of comparable age, who has the bad boy appeal that's not too bad boy where he often is redeemed to the good side for 'reasons' in the course of the story.

Reylo is such a Dramione pairing.

You don't believe me? Look at the authors who write it, I haven't done this too often myself, but I guarantee you that a not small majority of them will either write Draco/Hermione or will have it all over their favorites and bookmarks. It's the same damn pairing.

But worse.

Because Kylo-Ren and Rey aren't really characters.

"Whoa, hold up!", you say, "That's just slander and uncalled for!" Well, change my mind. Rey Palpatine and Kylo-Ren are a series of character tropes and archetypes thrown to us by Disney screaming "LOVE MY CHARACTERS".

Rey is our noble, very Luke like, hero who is a scrappy desert rat with overwhelming mystical powers only acknowledged when the movies feel like acknowledging them (guys, admit Rey kicked Kylo-Ren's ass every time they fought with 0 training, come on, it's not hard).

However, there is nothing underneath her surface. Her hero worship of the resistance feels dull and given to her because it's expected. Of course Rey likes the resistance! The resistance is great! Sign her up! Rey has been living in the desert at the edge of nowhere for presumably 15 years, I'm shocked she's even heard of the new republic let alone the resistance. Despite essentially starving and only having a home that's a broken down old fighter, Rey saves a random droid. We're not really given a compelling reason of why she would do this, that she has a deep respect for droids/is horrified by their use, really really really hates the random trader she sells things to, or really really really hates the empire (if she even realizes it's them behind the bounty). She does it just so that a) the plot keeps moving b) to show Rey is... noble... I guess?

Remember that even Luke (who I have some problems with as a character) started his journey with more backstory and personality than this. Luke loved the empire and desperately wanted to become a pilot. He was very put out that his aunt and uncle kept saying, "Uh, no, bad idea." Luke was ready to skip town and sign on up for flight academy, he just got distracted by pretty women, er, his sister.

So, Rey is never given a compelling reason to do any of the things she does in the series. Just vague feelings of hero worship. And, of course, the drama over her parents. Just... I feel like Disney took out a hat, put a bunch of pieces of paper with words on them, and drew out the one that said "orphan angst about parents" and said "See, now she's conflicted! What a character!"

So yeah, Rey is your cardboard generic hero who is so generic she's not even a person. She has no hopes, no dreams, no fears, just these vague things we're told as an audience she cares about but never shown in any legitimate manner. Rey likes the resistance and rando droids, Rey imprints on Han Solo as the father she never had, Rey has this thing about her parents, Rey is attracted to Kylo Ren.

And that last one, oh boy that last one. It sold me less on the attraction to Kylo Ren than... oh... I don't know... Palpatine's secret Sith planet of doom. I mean, we all saw it coming, The Last Jedi it was very clear where that was going and then Abrams went for it even harder. But what we had was a series of skype conversations where Rey went from "Gr, you killed my pseudo father!" and Kylo-Ren responding, "Yeah, well he was my real father AND HE WAS SO MEAN" to "Oh Ben, I will fly to you through space and we shall save the galaxy together!"

I am given no reason to believe Rey's change of heart. Han Solo's death just suddenly... doesn't really mean much to her anymore (the man was murdered by his son in cold blood so that his son could feel better about himself). She believes Ben Solo is good now because Luke is a dick (never mind that, no matter what a dick Luke is, Ben Solo still murdered dozens of children and then went on to gleefully massacre his way through the galaxy). We're told there's a Force Dyad, which is um... not this thing the writer's made up because they were too lazy to convince me that Kylo-Ren and Rey would end up together in any organic way.

So, yeah, why does Rey like Kylo-Ren? Because the Force told her too? Because it was somehow all Snoke's fault in a way that's never properly described? (Indeed despite us spending quite a bit of time on Kylo-Ren's decision to remain Kylo-Ren being a very internalized thing) Because we saw him shirtless in yoga pants this one time?

It's bad when that last is actually the most legitimate reason I can think of out of the whole lot.

Now let's go to Kylo-Ren. If Rey is boring and nonsensical then Kylo-Ren is a dumpster fire and non-sensical. The guy reminds me a lot of Commodus from the film "Gladiator", the man is cowardly, vile, and murders his father in despair that his father never will be capable of loving him/passes him over for the throne. Kylo-Ren's murder of Han Solo is extremely similar to the murder of Marcus Aurelius in "Gladiator". Han Solo is a flawed father, trying to make his peace with his son, who approaches him unarmed and Kylo-Ren decides to murder him in order to solidify his place in the dark side.

Only, the films never acknowledge that every action Kylo-Ren takes is horrifying.

We're told "oh, Kylo-Ren exists because evil Snoke corrupted him" but also shown repeatedly that Kylo-Ren chooses the darkest path again and again and again. He "struggles with the light" but I don't see it. His opening scene, he has massacred a village and is torturing a man for information (this is presumably a daily routine for him). In the same film he later tortures Rey for information. He serves on a Death Star which wipes out billions in an instant. He murders his father to feel good about himself. He dresses as a man who was reviled and feared throughout the galaxy, a man who murdered countless children, and a man who dressed the way he did because he was barely hanging onto life, because Kylo-Ren thinks it makes him look like a badass. Think about it, this is like if a fully abled Kylo-Ren is wheeling around in a wheel chair, perfectly capable of walking, because he thinks that Professor X is so cool. Now, replace Professor X with Hitler, this is what the movies gave us.

Yet, the films seem to take it for granted that Kylo-Ren is a redeemable character. He's just lost and misguided, he's really struggling with the light and dark side! They don't just tell us this over and over again (which they do) but also just assume we know it.

And base the entire Reylo pairing off of it. Reylo believed Kylo-Ren could be redeemed, they battle Snoke together, then Kylo-Ren stabs her in the back and continues the assault on the Resistance and asks her to be his Dark Queen (TM). Reylo is shocked and appalled, I'm just wondering what movie she thought she was watching, because that was coming a mile away.

Later, when Kylo-Ren is redeemed, we're never given a reason why it happens. Leia just gives him a nagging, one word, phone call and then Han Solo shows up to go, "Ben, are you going to do the right thing?" and Ben goes, "Mumble, grumble, fine" because there's only an hour left in the last film.

Kylo-Ren, like Rey, is the writers' desperate attempt to create a compelling anti-hero with all the anti-hero sauce we love. They just won't admit they made an overgrown genocidal toddler.

Wow, this turned into why I hate both Rey and Kylo Ren, but, uh, back to the ship. Basically, the films give me 0 reason to ever believe it, and even if I wanted to, even if I said "Alright brain, let's make these characters real people for once", I still wouldn't like it. Because the ship itself is just as flat as the characters. It's spicy but not too spicy bad boy gets together with strong female lead.

I know a lot of people enjoy this, and I won't say it's any less legitimate than any of the weirdness I ship, but I'm not one of them. And the whole thing just makes me go "ugh".

[osakaso5]

Spirit Kaleidoscope: Empty Absolution

Chapter 2 - The First Squadron and the Second Squadron

Chapter Index

Katanashu Station - Corridor

Madoka: ...And that's about all of the station. Phew, I'm beat.

Madoka: It's a big building with lots of facilities, but you'll learn to find your way around in about two or three days, give or take. Are we finally done?

Momiji: Yeah. I'll do the rest of the tour myself.

Madoka: And I don't have to guide you to the Grand Gate near the grounds... right?

Momiji: The Grand Gate... You mean the torii-like structure that connects to the human world? I passed through it on my way here, so I should know where it is just fine.

Madoka: ...Speaking of which, how did you get all the way from there to the reception room? Must've been difficult to find.

Momiji: The shikigami waiting in front of the gate showed me the way.

Madoka: Ah... Now that you mention it, I guess we did leave one there to serve as a guide some time ago.

Momiji: Though as soon as I left the reception room, it turned into a guard.

Madoka: Ahaha! Yeah, it was straddling you on the floor. That was hilarious.

Momiji: ...Why do the shikigami attack people? They're supposed to be under human control. Though I did hear that they're very dedicated to their duties during my training.

Madoka: You're not wrong about them being dedicated. That's why the one you were with stopped you from going anywhere other than the place you were guided to.

Momiji: ...I see. So they're not very smart.

Madoka: They can only follow simple orders, but they're still convenient. They never get tired, and they do their duties diligently. You can even play go with them if you teach them the rules.

Madoka: ...Come to think of it, you were trying to cut through the one from earlier... Can't you use shikigami properly?

Momiji: I know how, I just haven't done it before.

Madoka: Gimme a break. You better learn how to use them even a little bit, because I'm not going to handhold you through everything.

Madoka: The shikigami take care of all our daily chores, like guarding, cooking, and cleaning.

Momiji: ........

Madoka: Hm? Cat got your tongue?

Momiji: No... I'm just realizing how different this is from the world I used to live in...

Madoka: No kidding. Over there, it's all political tension and infighting, and over here, it's swords, yokai, and supernatural realms...

Madoka: This place is like a horror movie. But it's still more peaceful than being a soldier in the capital.

Madoka: I didn't know a world like this existed before I got assigned to the katanashu, either.

Momiji: Yokai, huh...

Momiji: Do they really exist? I haven't even gotten to go to that city they supposedly live in, so I'm still not entirely convinced...

Madoka: They do.

Momiji: ...You've seen them?

Madoka: Seen them, talked to them, touched them. They're flesh and blood here, just like you and me.

Momiji: ........

Momiji: Then, that really was...

Madoka: ...Hm? Did you say something?

Momiji: Ah, no...

Madoka: .....? Well, whatever.

Madoka: Never mind that, you said you had training before coming here? Did they tell you what your duty is as a katanashu?

Momiji: Yeah. Just the basics of it, though.

Momiji: "The katanashu are the capital's top secret organization. Its purpose is to monitor the Yokai of Hikagemachi, and it has two primary duties."

Momiji: "Controlling the yokai's travels to the human realm, and making sure humans lost in Hikagemachi are returned home safely."

Madoka: Wow, that was perfect! I've got nothing left to teach you. Can I go back to my room now?

Momiji: ........

Madoka: Geez, don't glare at me like that... Learn to take a joke...

Momiji: By the way, I heard that we were to use our abilities to erase the  memories of any human who wanders into Hikagemachi.

Madoka: Yeah. If we let them blab about their trip to the yokai world, the whole country would be in chaos.

Madoka: Way back when the katanashu didn't even exist... It might've been more common for yokai to live in the human world.

Madoka: A long time ago, they lived so close to us that humans who wanted a piece of yokai power could worship them as gods, or even enslave them using contracts.

Madoka: That stuff's banned nowadays. I guess the yokai got sick of being used by humans, and moved here.

Momiji: Getting lost in another world... It's like being spirited away.

Madoka: Especially if you've never been here before. Like I said before, the human and yokai worlds basically mirror each other.

Madoka: Even our station should have its equivalent in the human world, though we can't see it.

Momiji: Maybe they're on different wavelengths, or something... Like electromagnetic waves that you can't see with the naked eye?

Madoka: Maybe? I don't know the specifics, and I don't really care.

Madoka: In any case, it's not actually uncommon for people to wander in here by accident.

Momiji: ...I see. So that's what they need the katanashu for.

Madoka: Hmm... Is that all there is to it..?

Madoka: It's not rare for humans to end up here, but it's still only around 4 to 5 people a year.

Momiji: ...Then what do the katanashu do when they're not taking care of lost humans?

Madoka: Nothing, really?

Momiji: ...Nothing?

Madoka: Yeah. Nothing. Ah. I guess Commander Kasane plays games? With playing cards and stuff.

Momiji: Playing cards...

Madoka: And hanafuda, too.

Momiji: Hanafuda...

Madoka: If only we could use phones. We're not even allowed to bring electronics here. Not that I could get a signal here.

Madoka: Can you believe  that's not possible in this day and age!? I can't get in touch with girls! I can't check my social media timelines!

Madoka: It feels like I've been kicked out of the real world... I don't even know what I'm living for in this cryptic realm.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: Sigh, I wanna go home soon... It's getting to a point where I'd gladly get fired, and I don't mind resigning whenever.

???: Cowardly as always, Madoka.

Madoka: Ugh..! ...Commander Hanabusa. My humblest apologies..!

Hanabusa: If you wish to return to the capital so badly, I'll gladly  have you repatriated together  with a report letting them know that you're abandoning your post.

Madoka: I-I was only joking, of course. A new member has joined our squadron, so I thought I'd make him feel more at home..

Hanabusa: Hmph. Your mouth still runs endlessly.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: Allow me to introduce you. This is Momiji, who'll be in the second squadron starting today.

Momiji: My name is Momiji. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Hanabusa: Right.

Madoka: Momiji, this is Commander Hanabusa. He was sent by the capital to be the katanashu's superior officer.

Madoka: He serves as an inspector outside of his military duties. Make sure to treat him with the appropriate respect.

Momiji: Yes.

Hanabusa: His conduct is fine, but he's arrived a bit late.

Madoka: Well, uh... We had a bit of a mixup...

Hanabusa: More like negligence. This is Kasane's second squadron we're talking about. It's hard to imagine you doing your jobs properly.

Madoka: Ahaha...

Hanabusa: You must've been very unlucky to have been assigned to this group of slackers.

Momiji: Not at all. I will abide by any decisions the military makes for me.

Hanabusa: ...Hmm.

???: Commander Hanabusa, are you here!?

Hanabusa: What is it, Aoi? It's rare to see you so flustered.

Aoi: We've received a message from the capital, and... The general has  something to tell you directly.

Hanabusa: ...The general? Hand me the message.

Aoi: Yes. 

Rustle...

Hanabusa: .......

Madoka: Eep... The general's practically at the top of the chain! What would a head honcho like him want with the katanashu..?

Momiji: .......

Aoi: ...I haven't seen you before.

Momiji: I'll be working in the second squadron starting today. You can call me Momiji.

Aoi: ...A newbie, huh. I'm Aoi, of the first squadron. Nice to meet you. Since we're in different teams, I doubt we'll interact much.

Momiji: Yeah.

Madoka: By the way, the first squadron has one more member. But now that I think about it, I haven't seen him all morning...

Aoi: He's probably wandering around Hikagemachi again. Or maybe he's wasting his time loitering around that ramen shop?

Madoka: Again? He's a weird one, for sure.

Aoi: What a disgrace... I just hope he doesn't cause trouble again.

Aoi: I don't want anything to do with his problems, even if we are in the same squadron.

Momiji: "Again"..?

Madoka: Whoa... That's cold, dude. He's still your senior, isn't he?

Aoi: He's someone who caused so many problems in the capital that he was demoted twice. Senior or not, I find it hard to want anything to do with him.

Madoka: Yeah, but still.

Momiji: ...What kind of trouble did this person cause..?

Madoka: Who knows. I'm not sure, myself. Why don't you just ask him?

Momiji: Right...

Aoi: That aside, what did the general's message say, Commander?

Hanabusa: .......

Momiji: ......?

Momiji: What? Why do I feel like Commander Hanabusa's glaring at me..?

Hanabusa: ...It wasn't anything too important.

Hanabusa: The general was only reminding us of the soldiers' grave we live in. It was quite vile.

Momiji: Soldiers' grave..?

Aoi: What does that mean, sir..?

Hanabusa: You... Momiji, right?

Momiji: ......? Yes.

Hanabusa: Here's your first lesson from me. Don't get carried away, thinking you're any better than the rest of us.

Momiji: ........

Hanabusa: I don't know how they treated you in the capital, but I'm in charge here. If I catch you doing anything out of order, know that you'll be punished for it.

Hanabusa: Don't get too comfortable, and focus on your duties. Understand?

Momiji: ........ I understand.

Madoka: Whoa...

Hanabusa: Madoka, I'm saying this to you, as well. Pass this message to  your commander too, while you're at it.

Madoka: ...Yessir!

Hanabusa: Let's go, Aoi.

Madoka: ...Ugh, I'm soooo tired..! At least they're finally gone... Those dudes give me the creeps..!

Madoka: Commander Hanabusa and Aoi are too goddamn serious. They're always looking down on the second squadron. Some call him Commander Ogre, but that's not exactly a popular nickname.

Momiji: He was pretty harsh on me. I don't remember offending him in any way, though...

Madoka: ...Pfft. Guess it was hate at first sight?

Momiji: Seems that way.

Madoka: You don't seem to mind.

Momiji: I'm used to it.

Madoka: ...To being hated? Maybe you should try being less anti-social, then?

Momiji: I make sure not to waste energy on useless things. No matter how I deal with other people, it's always the same.

Madoka: Hmm?

Madoka: Well, Commander Hanabusa's basically always like that. He's constantly on edge because he's such a glory hound.

Momiji: Glory hound? How come?

Madoka: Because he wants to return to his post in the capital. Unlike the rest of us, he's still working for them. That's why he's always showing off what an elite he is.

Madoka: Seems like he was well on his way to the top, but as you could see, he's stubborn and not too flexible. Some say he was shipped off to the katanashu because he was such a pain to deal with.

Madoka: Not that there's any glory to be found around here.

Momiji: .......

Madoka: At least the two of us should more or less get along, yeah? I get tired when things are too tense, and I don't want any trouble.

Momiji: Agreed. Too much tension will get in the way of our duties.

Madoka: Haha. You really are a serious guy. Welcome to the katanashu again, Momiji.

Momiji: Yeah.

Madoka: ...Is this finally enough info for you? Aagh, I'm beat! I'm gonna go to my room and take a nap.

Momiji: ...Hold on. Aren't you going to show me around the city?

Madoka: Huh? The city?

Momiji: I want to see the city for my duties' sake. And there's something I'm curious about...

Madoka: Ugh... Only a weirdo would want to go to a city swarming  with yokai voluntarily.

Madoka: Not that I'll stop you. Wait a sec. Uh, I think it's around here...

Momiji: .....?

Madoka: Ah, found it! ...Here, you can have this.

Momiji: A piece of paper..? It looks pretty old...

Madoka: It's a map of Hikagemachi. Use it. You'll be fine by yourself as long as you have that, right?

Momiji: ...Huh?

Madoka: Like I said, I'm off duty. I was up all night playing five-in- a-row, so I've been sleepy all morning... Yawn...

Momiji: Five-in-a-row...

Madoka: Alright, you're free to go. We don't exactly have a curfew, so come back whenever you're done scoping the city out.

Madoka: Seeya~.

Momiji: ........

To be continued...

[cecilspeaks]

158 - The Battle for Time

Kasper Rhodes: 

The future wants you. The future needs you. The future will have you, whether you want to or not. Welcome to Night Vale.

Kasper Rhodes here, hello. There’s a lot of talk generally and in particular about the future. Everyone’s going on about this or that, rocketships and spires, eternal life and AI, but the future is also soil and leaves. It’s a hand holding a hand, it’s clouds and it’s water and it’s salt. The future is organic as anything. There is still sweat in the future, [chuckles] I’m sweating right now! It’s hot where I am. And I am Kasper Rhodes, president of the Quality Cyborg Corporation, and I can take you away from all this, in the name of the Smiling God. The God that grins down at us all, grinning through our pain and grinning through our joy, just always grinning, just always the smile.

Do any of you believe in anything? I do. I believe in anything at all, I just believe. What a powerful thing it is to believe, to let doubt (--) [0:02:27] off you, [chuckles] just like the sweat.

I have a proposition and it’s also a promise. I will take your brain, and how much were you using it anyway, and I will put it in a robot. And that robot will do wonderful things. That is my promise. And it’s also a proposition. [chuckles] Anyway, we’ll talk more in person, I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.

[whoosh]

Cecil: (-) am I through? Am I, am I on the air? Am I on the air? I come to you in a time of emergency and panic. We thought we could cheat death. Kasper Rhodes promised to take our brains and freeze them into the future where we could be reawakened into life eternal. But it was all a lie. Kasper is a time traveler here to collect the brains of the past, to power robots of servitude in the future. We were being tricked into an eternal life of manual labor, and now we know the truth and stand against them.

Unfortunately, he has called in reinforcements from the future, and they are those very robots with our brains inside of them. They cannot fight against their programming, and they weep as they crush us, but still they crush us. There are robots patrolling outside of the abandoned grain silo and every other spot in town where the Quality Cryogenics Corporation is storing brains, so we cannot save our fellow citizens from the terror of the future.

(-) [0:04:01]. Kasper worships a Smiling God. I thought we had escaped that cosmic terror but it has returned, and it has come for our minds. Night Vale, I call for resistance. I call for a stand against the future. I muster the present to destroy every moment that comes after. We will never stop fighting, we will never surrender.

Oh, um, ahem, but first. Tickets are going on sale for the Lions Club charity raffle. All proceeds from the raffle will be going of weapons and barricades to be used against the endless onslaught of the future robots piloted by our own brains. So that’s just a great cause. Let’s have a look at the prizes. There’s a package tour to somewhere called Nash-vile. That’s exciting. Uh, the package includes a map showing where Nash-vile is, and a pad of paper on which is scrolled: “You should probably get a hotel room when you get there.” Everything you need for a fun vacation. There are ten free piano lessons from Louie Blasko. He says that piano is a great way to exercise your mind and your creativity, and he promises much fewer injuries this time around. There’s a free haircut and style consultation from Telly the Barber. Uuuuuuuuuugh! Ugh, that vile Telly! Meh, I shouldn’t say that. Carlos has forgiven Telly for cutting his – beautiful hair all those years ago, and so I should too. There are lots of things I should do, and I’m sure I’ll get to them eventually. In the meantime, though: ugh! Vile Telly! Finally, there is the grand prize, which is an all expenses paid trip into the bottomless hole betwixt the dunes, that inexplicable dark pit that appeared a few years ago out in the Sand Wastes. We’re not sure who donated this prize, it just showed up at the Lions Club in a basket that smelled of mud and wet dog. But the winners will have the opportunity, in fact they will be compelled whether they want to or not, to leap into the bottomless hole betwixt the dunes. This is all expenses paid. I’m not sure what expenses there are to jumping into a bottomless hole but in any case, they’re covered. Raffle tickets are only 5 dollars and can be purchased at the Lions Club or by whispering into any crack in any wall. And again, proceeds go to saving us from the robot army, so please do buy a few.

[whoosh]

Kasper Rhodes: There’s a lot of talk generally an in particular about pain. “Oh, I’m in pain,” many say, “Oh, this pain is the worst I’ve ever felt,” many say. Many just scream and that’s understandable, I’d scream too if I could, but you can’t scream with a smile. That’s one of the laws of the Smiling God. I believe in laws. But then, I believe in anything.

Have you ever had rock candy? Who even thought up something so useless as these crystalline sugar lumps? What point is there to any of this, when rock candy is the kind of thing that we as humans apparently are up to? Generally, also in particular. But what I’m talking about is, what point is there to rock candy? And what I’m also asking is, what point is there to you? But I can provide a point, at you anyway. Wouldn’t that be nice for once? And don’t we want it to be nice for once, just once before we go? I’m talking here about purpose, and I have more purpose than I need. You have less purpose than you want. Let’s meet in the middle, and there in the middle, I will take your brain. Believe in the Smiling God and why not? I do.

[whoosh, high-pitched noises]

Cecil: [distorted] Night Vale, we will fight! [normal] Night Vale, we will win! The night may be long, but inevitably comes the dawn. Especially now that time works correctly here. Tamika Flynn has gathered her militia, who have aged to the point where they are no longer teenagers. It was kind of cute, a local friendly teenage militia, but now they’re just a militia, which is less cute. But definitely good to have on our side in this struggle. They are currently pelting the robots with stones but – ah, the robots’ metal frames are impervious to such attacks. Oh, this is so worrying! Josh Crayton, local shapeshifter, has resumed the form of a waterfall in an attempt to short out the electronics of the robot army. Unfortunately it appears that their bodies are water resistant and perhaps even waterproof, and so they are simply walking past him like he isn’t there. Josh, maybe some other form? Oh, OK, OK, Josh has panicked and accidentally taken the form of a 1970’s style avocado green galley kitchen. Oh, Josh, this will not be helpful at all.

“We’re going about this fight all wrong!” said Lenny Butler, who has no official bona fides on military tactics, but considered himself an aficionado of rowdy boys really taking it to each other on the battlefield. Lenny continued: “What we want to do is fight them!” When asked what that meant, he shrugged and (-) [0:09:47] irritably. “I know what it means!” he said. “I’m not gonna waste time explaining it to you, just like, flank them!”

Other towns have been forced to join the fight, as the robots are sweeping through the entire area. The ghosts of Pine Cliff have enthusiastically entered the fray. Unfortunately, of course, ghosts cannot physically affect our world, and so they are just hovering back and forth through the robots. But good hussle out there!

Citizens of the Whispering Forest muttered warm compliments to the robots in an attempt to simulate them into their tree forms, but robots are immune to compliments, as they’re only able to think as highly of themselves as they are programmed to do. Oh no, nothing is working! Ugh. Well, this seems like as good a time as any to talk about survival tips. The first thing to consider is your water source. Now, your body is 60 per cent water, so that seems like enough, let’s move on. Next, you will want to consider food. Stuck up on essentials like canned peas, easily stored grains, and those little bags of baby carrots which are just big carrots carved into small spaces and called babies. Which his not how babies are made. This is not what the word “baby” means. Anyway, if you find yourself in an emergency situation without enough food, consider expanding your definition of the word “food”. For instance, theoretically, you could eat a desk if you tried hard enough. Maybe the problem isn’t a lack of food, but  lack of motivation on your part. Finally ,look for shelter. This one is easy, there are houses and buildings everywhere and you can just go into them. Some of them will be locked, they might even have people inside who say things like: “What are you doing in my house?” and: “You can’t be in here, this is the stock room of an Arby’s!” But don’t let naysayers like that get you down. This has been, survival tips.

[whoosh]

Kasper: There is a lot of talk generally and in particular about triumph. “We are winning,” a person might say. “We will defeat you,” a person might crow as the town falls in supplication around him. “You will all be taken to the future!” that person might continue. “You will be made useful.” And isn’t that wonderful? To be made useful? Isn’t that the best thing a person can be? I think so. It doesn’t matter what you think, [chuckles] it turns out you never did. It’s so impersonal chatting over the phone, es-especially since you haven’t been picking up. It seems rude, your refusal to listen to me, but-but I don’t mind. After all, it’s hard to begrudge you your last minutes of human freedom. Tell you what, tell you what, I’ll head over and collect you myself. Wouldn’t that be nice? For me, I mean, again it doesn’t matter what it is for you, it turns out it never did. OK, [distorted] see you soon, bye bye!

[whoosh]

Cecil: Give me back my radio frequency! Oh, I… Am I, I think I’m back on. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Well, I’ll talk whether you can hear me or not. More robots are pouring out of the time vortexes. The vorteces, vortes.. vorces.. vort-vortex-eses. Whatever they are. Thousands of robots are coming out and this is too much, we can never defeat all of them! The robots are marching to Kasper Rhodes’ army that was already here and they are… Listeners, they are fighting them. These new robots are fighting on our side. At their head is the one I recognize as containing the brain of Charlie Bair, the dayshift manager at the Ralphs, and he’s [huffing] he is announcing that some of the robots have broken free of their programming, that they have found a way to manipulate the metal body they were trapped in, and they have come back to help us prevent this all from happening. And the present day human Charlie Bair is running up to join his future metal counterpart. Night Vale, out on that battlefield is a robot which contains your brain! Find that robot and help it fight, or fight it, depending o n which side it’s on. Together, with ourselves, we can win this. There is still hope. There is always hope. There is also always The weather.

[“Sugar Neighbors” by Dane Terry https://www.thedaneterry.com]

Together, us and us, our own selves and our robot selves, we rushed against Kasper Rhodes, more and more of his robots broke free of their programming and joined us. Tamika and her militia were now Tamikas and their militias, and the intimidation factor was through the roof. This whole time, we just had to trust ourselves. [chuckles] And also have versions of ourselves that were embedded in super strong metal bodies. That was all it took this whole time to be victorious. Charlie Bair the human stood shoulder to shoulder with Charlie Bair the robot, and both fought valiantly. Josh Crayton took the form of a chainsaw, which was then wielded by Josh Crayton’s brain in a robot body to glorious and gory effect. It did not take long for the tides to turn. Sometimes, once the balance shifts, it shifts as quickly and definitively as a broken elevator plunging down a shaft. And then, Kasper Rhodes himself finally fell. Whether it was the stones cast by the Tamikas, or the fists of the Charlies, or Josh the chainsaw wielded by Josh the robot, I cannot say. In the chaos of battle, individual human action becomes indistinct, but the fact of Kasper’s death is indisputable. And in that moment he fell, every robot slumped into stillness, because time had changed. Kasper never took our brains when we died and used them in robots of the future, and because of that, every one of those robots no longer had a brain in them. They were empty shells. We carried those empty shelves with affection and care to Grove Park, where they would be sorted for parts and the resulting scrap metal used to fix the massive amount of damage done to town by this battle.

We kept one robot, though, just one. The scrawniest one with the most rusted joints and Pamela Winchell, who has been reading books on hobbyist surgery, removed Kasper’s brain from his still warm body and placed it in that robot, and the robot came to life in a panic. “Don’t worry,” we told Kasper the robot, “we’re not going to hurt you! We’re just putting you to work for the Miriam McDonald memorial fund. You will clean up the sand from the Sand Wastes until all the sand is gone. We don’t know how long that will take, it may take forever. Good luck!” And even now, a lone robot with a broom sweeps sand out of the desert. Hm. A fitting end for an unfit man.

[sighs in relief] Now there is only us, and the returned reality of our aging. And our death. I have come to think that Carlos was right. There is nothing more scientific than death. We fear it, reasonably, because it is a thing we can never know, perhaps not even when we experience it. But it is not worth perverting our lives, changing everything about ourselves just to avoid our natural ends. New generations will come. New people will live. And like everyone before us, we will gracefully exit to make room for those coming after. As the old saying goes: “Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.” [laughs] This is not a story about you! And you were glad, because it would be boring if every story was.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Every friend group has a joyful chasm. If you do not know who the joyful chasm is, then I have news for you: you are the joyful chasm.

[post credits segment]

Kasper: There’s a lot of talk generally and in particular. So many words. Oh man. Oooh maannn. Ugh, oh! [chuckles] This is not how. It isn’t. Was it? But it’s what’s left of me. Oh, it’s quiet in here at least. I can’t feel the smile anymore. (--) [0:25:49] that smile. In here, it is quiet and dark. My metal body moves, but my brain is still. I like it in here. [shivers] Nooo-oooo! That smile!  The- the smile has appeared. Oh, oh God, y- you don’t understand! The smile is in here with me. [distorted noise, discordant music rises, then fades out]

[wordcubed-writes]

What if Naruto’s ~Ancient Aliens~ plotline didn’t suck?

Fandom: Naruto

Fanfic: A Different World

Context: "The Uchiha and Senju are descended from ancient aliens and their mom is the final bad guy” plotline in Naruto... kinda sucks. So I’m just going to throw the whole canon out and substitute my own.

____________________

Hagoromo slew the monster. Then he ended the war. He ended the war because he said so, because he was a god, because he held the Ten-Tails and he could pull all the world’s chakra inside himself. For a thousand years, he ruled over the world, carefully laying the foundations for a just and peaceful future.

Then he died.

His sister shook her head and called him a fool. Always distant, ever aloof, she took her half of the Otsutsuki clan and left. She left for the moon, to guard the Ten-Tails’ corpse, and to watch. Hagoromo might be able to hold all the world’s chakra, but Hamura could see the world with a clarity her brother never had. She would, she decreed, give her awful nephews two centuries to make peace, and if they failed, her wrath would turn them to dust. If they failed to uphold the glorious Otsutsuki name, then she would simply ensure there weren’t any left to ruin it.

She’d never been particularly fond of the Impure Lands. They were merely a sinkhole for unworthy souls, after all. She’d humored her little brother anyway, like she always had, but now Hagoromo was dead. Worse than dead, he was stuck in the Grey Lands. What a fool.

Then she died. It was inevitable, really. Like her brother, she’d stayed for far too long in the Impure Lands. Her body became corrupted, and wasted away like a mortal’s. It was embarrassing. Also, painful. Dying was unpleasant, and she was fond of her children, however pitiful the world they called home was. Now she would never see them again.

“Have you learned anything?” he asked as she marched past him, towards the Pure Land. “That pain was only a taste of what all mortals go through. They’ll reincarnate over and over again, hurting over and over.”

“Is that why you wanted me to stay?” she stated more than asked. “To learn? I don’t need whatever it is you think I need. Not in the Pure Land. I am going home. You are free to waste your time in the Grey Lands. Enjoy watching your insufferable children ruin your legacy.”

She never spoke to him again. The Pure Land was short one god, a gap that could never be filled, but she put it behind her.

~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~

The first time Hagoromo Otsutsuki used Creation of All Things was to put away the Ten-Tails. He found it less memorable than seeing the look on Hamura’s face. She’d tried destroying it outright, and found it was beyond even her power.

That she needed help with something was such an affront to her dignity. When she’d grumbled that they might have to work together, while looking so offended at the very thought of admitting weakness, he’d actually snickered. She’d glared at him for that. Her eyes made it a very formidable glare indeed. (It was like the whole world, heaven and earth itself, was made of eyes and all of them were looking at him at once.)

Between the two of them, the greatest monster to ever wander the Impure Lands was crushed. The full power of two of the greatest gods from the Pure Land, the twin wielders of all destruction and all creation, was brought against it. Its spirit was shredded and torn and its body rendered to dust, and even as it simply rebirthed from the Grey Lands the monster found itself reshaped and remade into something less vile.

When it grew weak from their assault, Hagoromo stayed her hand. He would not let her destroy it. Instead, he locked it inside himself. Hamura called him a fool and warned that it would destroy him. He’d looked at her and said that this way, he could try and understand it.

It was bewildering.

But she could see everything, and she watched the monster from the outside in as it changed. He tamed it, somehow, and when he let it out and created nine new shapes for it, she let herself believe that it was no longer a being of pure loathing and cruelty, of violence given boundless form but no function beyond itself.

She was a fool because she’d forgotten how foolish mortals were, and how foolish Hagoromo’s half of the Otsutsuki clan was. If the monster could be tamed, then it could be untamed.

Hamura belittled her brother’s compassion, but she was wise enough to recognize that his heart was big enough for the whole world. The problem was, nobody else could ever measure up. Strife would return as soon as Hagoromo died.

It did.

~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~

The third time Hagoromo used Creation of All Things was when Hamura declared that he owed her for her help with the Ten-Tails, and therefore he should create offspring for her, much as he had done for himself. (That’d been the second time he used Creation of All Things.) In her image, she was careful to specify. Hagoromo had made his own children in his image, and they were every bit as foolish as he was. If her children were crafted after her, they’d at least be sensible.

(They were indeed very sensible, though Hagoromo felt that had little to do with worshiping reason and everything to do with looking down on others. It was easy to disclaim emotion when you thought yourself superior. Hagoromo held others close and grew to care too much. He liked his approach a lot better.)

Their children had children of their own—with, ugh, mortals, though Hamura found mortals tolerable enough if they simply shut their mouths and deferred to the superior Otsutsuki. Hagoromo actually liked them, presumably for the same reason he wasted his time on the tailed beasts.

~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~

Hamura found her nephews grating, but in different ways. Asura was the younger of the two by a full century. He was a weaker version of his father, with the merest sliver of his father’s power but most of his kindness. (“Kindness” was Hagoromo’s word for it, though. Hamura called such a thing by its proper name: shameful indulgence of others.) He was weak, but never seemed to fail. He had... companions? Friends? Family? Whatever it was, Asura possessed some quality that drew others to him, and another, equally strange, quality that compelled him to raise them up, to treat them as equals, to see them thrive alongside him.

Hamura could not understand this—this drive to indulge others even when they had not earned it—but she respected it. Somewhat. Asura’s power lay, not in himself, but in the people around him, and in the world itself. Asura was a fool, but a fool in the same way as his father. He had the same heart, and as soon as she realized that, she understood that he was meant to be Hagoromo’s heir. (If nothing else, Asura respected her wish to be left alone.)

Indra worried her. His eyes were so different from Hagoromo’s and from hers. She wasn’t frightened—Indra could grow in power for a thousand thousand years and still never touch her—but she worried for her brother’s sake. Indra seemed less like Hagoromo’s son and more like the Ten-Tails’.

Indra used his eyes to destroy, like hers. But he used them poorly, and to torment. Hamura was detached from the world as much as possible, to better judge it, and to better destroy what was necessary to keep All Things in balance. Indra held some too close, much like his brother and his father, but pushed some others away, and he was cruel to them. His eyes did not show him All Things, but instead Us and Them.

He seemed driven to power, much like Asura, but only for himself and the tiny handful within his Us. Indra had approached her many times, seeking power, and on the sixth time she laid out her will. She told him that while his brother was a human seeking human power to embetter humanity, Indra was a human seeking divine power only for himself. She warned him that if he continued his pursuit of ruinous power, if he ever became a monster to replace the Ten-Tails, she would destroy him. Hagoromo’s son or not, Hamura would remove him from All Things and place him into Nothing.

She had not been looked at with such hatred since she fought the Ten-Tails. It worried her even more.

~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~

Hagoromo Otsutsuki died and war came.

Indra failed to see what Hamura had seen centuries ago. He hadn’t realized Asura became Hagoromo’s heir the moment Indra paired limited compassion with limitless cruelty. So when he heard his father declare Asura the inheritor of his will, Indra attacked his brother even as their father lay dying.

Hamura was furious. How dare they make Hagoromo’s last sight in the Impure Lands be his own children fighting! That fury was precisely why she did not strike. Being too close to something was a mistake. It was not her way. She waited until she was calmer, until her divine will to destroy could come crashing down out of necessity and not anger.

Indra brought suffering and violence to a thriving and peaceful world. He was like a new Ten-Tails, feeding off loss and pain even while destroying others. And the tailed beasts responded. Some fled, either to the deepest ocean or highest mountains, while others became untamed, the foulness around them seeping into their very being and changing them to match.

Almost two centuries later, Indra still fought Asura at every turn. Indra fought to destroy this usurper, this traitor, this once-brother, now-deceiver of their late father. He understood that Asura was weak because he couldn’t stand on his own, because he drew on others for strength when he had none.

Asura cried and cried over and over again, begging Indra to stop. He begged because he was weak. Indra knew this. Asura claimed to fight for something greater than himself, for a world that was better and kinder than the one now at war.

It was vile. Indra and Asura were gods among mortals. How dare Asura defile that heritage. There was nothing greater than them, no principle worth obeying beyond their own greatness. Indra sought power because he alone deserved to have it. The entire world was his inheritance, it was owed to him, and if it wouldn’t be given then he would simply take it by force.

It took Indra two centuries to win, but he still won. He’d eaten of Asura’s flesh—a prize stolen in battle. Asura might’ve had the whole world’s chakra and righteous fury for countless victims living and dead, but Indra was great in a way Asura could never be. That was why Indra had the Samsara Eye and all nine of the tailed beasts, while Asura merely had mortal powers and mortal anger.

When Indra won he ate the rest of Asura’s body, too. Then he raised his hand for Divine Subjugation. He didn’t need to use it—his enemies were already defeated—but he wanted to impress upon his dominion the power he held.

Hamura Otsutsuki swept down from the moon. Indra became dust. As Indra had destroyed the Otsutsuki under Asura for being degenerate and weak, she too destroyed the Otsutsuki under Indra for being too cruel, for embracing the worst of all possible qualities and seeking to purge all they saw as less than them.

As her eyes held Indra’s spirit before her, she said to him: “I will give you eight chances to redeem yourself. Eight chances to understand your brother and learn to value others. You will be reborn once every 900 years—the length of time you lived alongside your brother in peace without ever learning anything. And when those chances are up, if you have failed, if you became a monster in all eight, if you can’t live even one life as nobly as your brother’s, I will remove you from existence, as I promised all those years ago. The heavens will fall and justice will be done.”

Hamura Otsutsuki herself died very soon after that.

She made her last divine order as she lay dying. Her eldest daughter was to come down from the moon. Her own descendants were to safeguard the world from Indra’s worst, should it ever come to that. They were to utterly destroy any new monster that rose up.

Centuries later, from the Pure Land, Hamura was very disappointed. Her daughter had died, as was inevitable. None of her great-grandchildren had inherited her eyes. Instead it was a strange, twisted derivative, no longer the Rebirth Eye but now the White Eye. What was worse, as the centuries passed, as more and more of the original Otsutsuki died, Hamura’s descendants grew more and more mortal.

Soon, the name Otsutsuki was forgotten. Hamura’s daughter’s reincarnation was left to start her own clan from nothing.

She named it after the sun: Hyuuga.

It irked Hamura, that her own descendant should forget which celestial body she came from. But the Hyuuga at least remembered their purpose, if not their name and origins. They treasured the carved stone she’d left them, which told them:

Hold yourselves apart and above the world

So you can judge it all the better

And destroy that which unbalances the world

____________________

Notes: Setup! Now the Hyuuga also have a tablet giving them terrible advice—just like the Uchiha!

(I know I said I’d post about my BNHA villain OCs, but that’s taking longer than I thought, so here’s a random thing from my big Naruto fic to tide you over.)

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: AN INTRODUCTION TO HADITH: Part 8

Iman; Islam; Ihsan

Umar ibn al-Khattab reports:

“We were sitting with Allah’s Messenger, upon him be peace and blessings, when there appeared a man before us a man whose clothes were exceedingly white, whose hair was exceedingly black, upon whom traces of traveling could not be seen, and whom none of us knew. He sat down close to the Prophet, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, so that he rested his knees upon his knees and placed his two hands upon his thighs and said: ‘Muhammad! Tell me about Islam.’ Allah’s Messenger, upon him, be peace and blessings, said: ‘Islam is that you witness that there is no deity but Allah and that Muhammad is His Messenger, and you establish the Prayer, and you give the zakah (prescribed annual alms), and you fast (during the month of) Ramadan, and you perform the hajj (pilgrimage) to the House if you are able to find a way to it.’ He said, ‘You have told the truth,’ and we were amazed at him asking him and [then] telling him that he told the truth. He said, ‘Tell me about belief (iman).’ He (the Messenger of Allah) said: ‘That you affirm Allah, His angels, His Books, His Messengers, and the Last Day, and that you affirm the Decree, the good of it and the bad of it.’ He said, ‘You have told the truth.’ He said, ‘Tell me about ihsan (perfect goodness).’ He said: ‘That you worship Allah as if you see Him, for although you cannot see Him, truly He sees you.’ He said, ‘Tell me about the Hour.’ He said: ‘The one asked about it knows no more than the one asking.’ He said, ‘Then tell me about its signs.’ He said, ‘That the female slave should give birth to her mistress, and you see poor, naked, barefoot shepherds of sheep and goats competing in raising tall buildings.’ He went away, and I remained some time. Then he (Allah’s Messenger) asked: Umar, do you know who the questioner was?’ I said, ‘Allah and His Messenger know best.’ He said: ‘He was Jabrail. He came to you to teach you your religion.’” (Sahih Muslim, Iman, 1).

Note: Refer to Unit Five for further information on Umar ibn al-Khattab, the narrator of this hadith.

EXPLANATION OF THE HADITH

Archangel Jabrail’s appearing before the Messenger of Allah and asking questions was for the purpose of teaching the Companions their religion.

This hadith came to pass near the time of the Prophet’s demise, as the Pilgrimage became obligatory after the conquest of Mecca and the Pilgrimage has been listed among the pillars of Islam mentioned herein.

The questions directed to the Prophet in the hadiths have been asked rather methodologically. Due to its externals, Islam has been inquired about first, followed by belief—which pertains to the inner world or heart entirely—and later perfect goodness, or ihsan, the highest degree of belief.

To the question concerning the Last Day, the Messenger of Allah replied that he did not know. However, it was Archangel Jabrail who had previously communicated to the Prophet, via Divine revelation, that he ought to reply in such a way to this question, and he knew that Allah’s Messenger would reply in this way. In that case, why did he ask?

His reasons for asking this question are the following:

To demonstrate to all others that this matter was among the Divine secrets and that even the Prophet himself could not acquire knowledge in this regard, without the permission of Allah.

Through this response, the Messenger of Allah illustrated before all those Companions, despite being a Prophet, just how connected he was to truth; at the same time, he demonstrated that a person cannot know everything and that it was not shameful or damaging to one’s pride to admit that one does not know something.

IMAN AND ISLAM

Iman: Verbal profession and confirmation with the heart. This signifies the heart’s affirming what the tongue utters. Accordingly, if the heart fails to affirm what the tongue declares, a person cannot be considered to have believed in the complete sense, even if they perform their worship outwardly. In any case, such people are referred to as hypocrites (munafiqun) in Islam.

In this hadith, the Messenger of Allah has referred to the aspects of religion pertaining to the heart as iman and those concerning practice, or deeds, as Islam.

Imam Zuhri states: “Islam is a word, while iman is the deed.” In other words, Islam must be understood in the literal sense. Belief, however, is praxis and implementation.

IHSAN

The literal meaning of ihsan is twofold: The word denotes doing something well and to perfection; it also comes to mean doing what is beautiful and good to others. The aspect of perfect goodness in this sense, which looks to human beings, is represented in the principle, “Wish for others what you wish for yourself.”

The universal dimension which encompasses all creatures is explained in the hadith,

“Verily Allah has prescribed ihsan (excellence, perfection) in all things. So if you kill then kill well and if you slaughter, then slaughter well. Let each one of you sharpen his blade and let him spare suffering to the animal he slaughters.”

The Qur’anic verse,

“Is the recompense of excellence (in obedience to Allah) other than excellence?” (ar-Rahman 55:60)

evokes this meaning. On one occasion, the Prophet had recited this verse and asked his Companions:

“Do you know what your Lord wills to reveal through this verse?” Upon their replying, “Allah and His Messenger know best,” he said that Allah said, “Can the reward for one whom I favored (in their worldly life) with belief in Divine Unity, be other than Paradise?”

Allah has decreed the following in relation to perfect goodness:

Allah enjoins justice (and right judgment in all matters), and devotion to doing good, and generosity towards relatives, and He forbids you indecency, wickedness and vile conduct (all offenses against religion, life, personal property, chastity, and health of mind and body). He exhorts you (repeatedly) so that you may reflect and be mindful! (an-Nahl 16:90)

SIGNS OF THE LAST DAY

That the female slave should give birth to her mistress: Implied here is that there will come such a time, towards the Last Day, in which children will be undutiful, disrespectful and unloving towards their parents. They will not show them the required love and benevolence and will not observe the rights of parents. They will perpetrate unimaginable evil towards their parents, to whom Allah prohibited even the saying of “Ugh!” (as an indication of complaint or impatience). Another noteworthy point in the text of the hadith is the Messenger’s use of the feminine rabbata (mistress). This illustrates that the child being born is female. So confused will everything become that even daughters, who normally have a closer relationship of reciprocal love and compassion with their mothers, will mistreat their mothers. Allah and His Messenger know best.

…and you see poor, naked, barefoot shepherds of sheep and goats competing in raising tall buildings: There will come such a time when people who are unqualified and incompetent will reach high positions with their money. They will become police officers, ministers, doctors, and the like. They will, as such, violate the rights of others and misdirect and mismanage government, and corruption, theft, and deception will increase.

LESSONS FROM THE HADITH

Angels can appear in human form. They can speak, and human beings can hear their speech.

Iman constitutes accepting the essentials of belief, while Islam is putting the rules prescribed by the religion into practice in one’s life.

A person’s openly declaring the Declaration of Faith is necessary for way of their being accepted as Muslim.

The question-and-answer method is an effective technique in education and teaching.

Respect to scholars and assemblies of learning is elemental.

Knowledge of the Last day rests only with Allah.

Affairs being placed in the hands of those unqualified to undertake them, the increase of disobedience, and the disintegration of the family institution are signs of the Last Day.

A Muslim must always act in the consciousness of responsibility.

Perfect goodness and self-supervision (muraqaba) are of two degrees: The servant’s living their life “as if seeing Allah,” is the first degree. “Knowing that He sees them though they do not see Him” constitutes the second degree.

[witchyymeans]

Elder Scrolls: V OCs

Kassandra: my bisexual Imperial who loves all her friends and treasures them. Has a brother she doesn’t talk about. Decided to romance Farkas because why not? A laid-back mom to daughters Lucia and Sofie.

Gargano: the brother Kassandra doesn’t talk about. He’s asexual and aromantic bc when I played his character nobody just??? Clicked with him not even Vilkas y i k e s. Became the opposite of everything Kassandra, even cannibalism. The lone wolf of my heart.

Uzag: my nonbinary Orc who I haven’t even created yet?? But their character design?? A must have. Will update more if I create their character.

Halvar War-Skies: ugh, my gay Nord thief, you have my heart always. Honestly loves his Orc husband Moth I forgot who he adopted tho oops. His parents raised him to worship Kyne and Talos and what does he do? He worships the Daedric Princes bc he nuts over all the guys’ voices (except Clavicus Vile,,, no).

[ryan-masamune-of-oshu]

Fic Inspiration Roulette

It’s a collection of posts I’ve seen that inspired some of my fics. They’re not all written like prompts but you get the idea. It’s a mix of fluff and smut. Anyways I decided to post it for my own reference but also so people could use it as a meme if they want to.

Send a ship name and I’ll randomly generate a number 1-40 for a “fic prompt”

1. “Characters trapped somewhere to hide from a storm” trope, more like: “HOW MANY ORGASMS CAN THESE CHARACTERS HAVE IN 48 HOURS WHILE WAITING OUT A BLIZZARD? THE ANSWER MAY SHOCK YOU!”

2.  BOSS: Know why I called you in here? ME: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic BOSS: [stops pouring 2 glasses of wine] Accidentally?

3. “I am not sorry for who I had to become in order to survive.”

4. PERSON A: “Babe you wear a lot of black. Don’t you ever want some bright colors?” PERSON B: [smirks] “Nah you already brighten my day.” PERSON A: “I fucking love you.”

5. PERSON D: “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘S’” PERSON C: “Is it [PERSON A and B’s] Sexual tension? PERSON A and B: “What?”

6. I stand in truth of who I am and what I feel. I’m liberated by authenticity. I stand exposed, my armor shed with arms outstretched in vulnerability. I am yours to wound, abandon, or embrace. I stand steady in patience as you search for your own truth. But know this: I will not wait forever.

7. I want sheet grabbing, back arching, heavy breathing, leg shaking sex. I want the slow kissing, hand roaming, and neck kissing. I want my lip bit and my back pinned against the wall. Pin me the fuck down. Get on top of me, rip my clothes off. Fuck...

8. If they stand behind you, give them protection. If they stand beside you, give them respect. If they stand in front of you, watch their back. And if they stand against you, show them no mercy.

9. No offense, but the soft uncertain kiss followed by a pause where the people look each other in the eyes and then fucking pull each other back into a more passionate kiss, will always be the most soul destroying trope. Catch me lying on the fucking ground sobbing and rewatching The Scene TM

10. I don’t want high school student aus. I want high school teachers aus. Please give me awkward teachers in love with each other and their students who work so, so hard to shove them together, please!

11. They told you it would feel good, but you couldn’t have imagined it would be this good. You hold their head down as you cum in their mouth. Don’t worry, let it wash over you. It’s what you both want. They’re happy to be on their needs, swallowing every last drop, unlike your partner.

12. Imagine your OTP having lazy Saturday morning sex. Eyes half open, early-morning sun washing across the bed. Sheets tangled around their legs. It’s nothing too intense. It’s warmth and messy tenderness, faces buried into each other’s necks and pleasure shivering down their spines.

13. If you run your fingers through my hair and pull a little while we’re kissing, I’m all yours.

14. Concept: We are laying in a hammock together, the summer breeze gently rocks us. My head is on your chest and I can hear your heartbeat and your breathing. The birds sing above and the sunlight warms us. I am in love with you.

15. You say you hate me, but I can see the love in your eyes. The way you say my name doesn’t match the vile words that follow. If I disgust you, then why do you pull me closer? If you say it hurts, then why beg to be touched. You confuse me darling, but let’s make one thing clear-you are mine, not his. So stop lying and show me how you really feel.

16. Neck kiss is honestly the hottest, most seductive thing anybody could ever do to me. If you kiss my neck, if you playfully bite my neck, if your tongue touches my neck, I will melt in your fingertips.

17. Plot: You’re an intelligent, pretty young thing who’s more familiar with books and philosophical concept. I’m that rough trade guy who you invite over to fix your sink and install a couple electrical things, but really you wanted to see me shirtless and of course, I end up fucking your brains out in the kitchen and then the bathroom and finally in the courtyard because that was the plan all along. Let’s be real.

18. When lazy kissing gets intense with that deep breath and hip pull.

19. When I have you, I’m gonna brand you with my lips and all of the world will know that you’re MINE now.

20. I say it’s time to bring back overtly sexual masquerade parties.

21. Someday, someone is going to look at you with a look in their eyes you’ve never seen. They’ll look at you like you’re everything...wait for it.

22. I’m sorry but if I’m sucking a dick and it hasn’t cum in like 10 minutes or less, it’s not my problem anymore and you can figure it out.

23. You call yourself ugly but you’ve only seen yourself when you look at the mirror, a thread. You don’t see yourself when your face lights up at the sight of a baby, ice cream, or your favorite restaurant. You don’t see yourself when you’re so focused on the things you love doing. You tell yourself you’re ugly but you’ve never seen yourself talk about the things you love. The stars, sky, the constellations, and the universe. You don’t see yourself when you smile at me for finally understanding what you’re trying to say. I guess that’s why it’s so easy for people to say they’re ugly because they’ve never seen themselves in the smallest moments, in the ordinary and still be beautiful. You never saw yourself tear up for laughing so hard or turn red after I told you something cheesy.

24. I want to lick your pulse and make you wonder if I’ll bite.

25. We’re on a date in a club and my friend is really high and confessing their love for me in front of you. So you take me to the back and fuck me to remind me who I belong to AU

26. Suggestion: Whisper praise in my ear when you’re fucking me from behind.

27. I’m sure you wouldn't mind them joining in, would you? You’re so needy. Sometimes you just need the extra attention. Don’t you? Need another set of hands on you, or more skin to get your hands on?

28. A shy sub riding your thigh, and hiding their face in your shoulder, mewling quietly as you guide their hips and make them move faster.

29. You’re OTP having sex. Person A has a habit of burying their face in something when they hit their climax, whether it be a pillow of Person B. This time Person B makes absolutely sure that Person A is looking at them when they orgasm (even if it means holding their face still). Bonus if Person B is so turned on by it they instantly cum.

30. From the bottom of my heart, please know that I’d appreciate being slammed against a wall with your hands down my pants and your breath against my neck saying that I am yours and only yours. 

31. If a monster or demon isn’t rawing you behind a haunted house or inside the woods, are you even doing Halloween right?

32. So there I was, a woodsman in flannel, eating out a beautiful man in a red cloak after saving him from a dangerous wolf. 

33. I don’t need prayers to worship you; just my head between your legs and your hands tugging at my hair.

34. I wanna hide my face in someone’s neck and sleep

35. Having sex with someone actually is a big deal and involves a ton of vulnerability and I think it’s extremely troubling and gross and unhealthy and actually exceptionally dangerous that we pretend otherwise and encourage people to “be mature” by compartmentalizing/completely eliminating their deeper human emotions from their sexuality and that any other view is dismissed as prudish and invalid and unenlightened and childish and restrictive. I can’t think about this too much because it makes me rage but I hate how much porn and capitalism have destroyed how we understand and experience sexuality and intimate connections with one another so much. 

36. I want to sleep with you. I don’t mean have sex. I mean sleep, together, under my blankets, and in my bed. With my hand on your chest and your arm around me. With the window cracked so it’s chilly and we have to cuddle closer. No talking, just sleepy blissfully happy, silence. 

37. Making out is one of the most underrated things in the world of sex. Like, one of the best feelings on Earth is tongue on tongue, biting each other’s lips and pressing your bodies together and grinding your hips into each other while your breathing mixes and making out is just so ugh God...

38. Imagine someone buying you lingerie just so they could see you in it.

39. “We’ve been fucking no strings attached but I just saw you go upstairs with another guy and I’m drunk and following you both upstairs to punch the shit out of him.

40.  My muse us clearly having a very vivid dream. Their body is reacting to it in a very sexual manner, panting and writhing in reaction as they sleep. It seems that whatever or whoever they are dreaming of is doing a good job of turning them on. Send me your muse’s response to walking in and finding them like that. 

[wearepaladin]

Currently playing a Paladin in Tomb of Annihilation. Apparently the main hub -town employs Zhentarim to act as guards. They're terrible and their complete disregard for the poor fills my character with rage, but she doesn't feel like she has enough power to take on the entire town guard. She's currently lost in the jungles of Chult, but she can't stop thinking about them, and wants to do something about them when she returns to town. Any Paladin-ly advice for what she should do when she returns?

Ugh. Zhents. The Black Network’s always up to their vile ways.

In her place, rather than fight the entire guard, I would look for whatever the local Zhents are invested in. I mean they’re self serving bastards who consistently worships gods of evil, they’re there either for material gain or power. Find whatever that is that’s helping them achieve that and undermine or destroy it.

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying The Planet To Save It Chapter 21:  Something Snarky, Which Will Come To Me Later

                              Chapters 1-20                Read It On AO3

Nobody likes to be up at four a.m. No matter which end of the day it is, four a.m. is “way too”. Either you’ve stayed up way too late, or you’ve had to get up way too early. Even Bucky didn’t have much energy to make fun of Joss when he knocked on her door to bring her a cup of coffee and found her wearing her Avengerswear™ nightgown. Her gratitude for the coffee, though genuine, was muted.

“Ugh. Thank you. You didn’t have to do this,” she rasped.

He smirked down at her. “I had to know.”

“Know?” She frowned adorably in confusion.

“Which one you slept in.”

Joss made a face as she held her arms out to display her nightgown.

“OK. Curiosity satisfied. Now hit the shower, Soldier, don’t be late for breakfast.”

“That’s ‘Airman’ and, um… Something snarky which will come to me when I’ve had some of this,” she held up her coffee.

Bucky laughed, giving Joss her first stomach butterflies of the day. Even at four a.m. he was ridiculously beautiful. He was still laughing softly when he leaned in, kissed her on the top of her disheveled hair, and turned for the stairs.

  Clint was awakened by Natasha reaching over him to turn off an alarm that was just about to go off.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes, I just woke early,” she answered, settling in when he put his arm around her and pulled her to him. They lay quietly for a few minutes while he lightly stroked her back. She hummed with pleasure and squeezed him with the arm draped over his chest. It wasn’t long before his hand began to caress lower, which naturally led to fondling her ass, and then to flipping them over and pinning her shoulders to the mattress.  

Clint shifted lower in the bed.  She kept her eyes closed, letting him worship her with his mouth and spreading her legs to his gentle pressure. Clint was well aware of what Natasha liked, and a slow morning wake-up was at the top of the list. He was actually a little surprised that she was interested, given how hard they’d gone at it from the late afternoon through most of the night. Then again, Natasha was never not interested.

He got another surprise after he’d made her come twice and was again lying next to her.  Natasha hated to be late.  She was firmly of the “If you’re on time, you’re late” school, and woe betide anyone who caused her to arrive anywhere less than fifteen minutes early.  But this morning, when she was again capable of purposeful movement, she rolled on top of him and basically demanded to be fucked, although they were already going to have to hurry to make their flight.

  Bruce actually held the pillow down over his head, as if he could hide from this vile hour of the morning. It wasn’t working, though, because Catherine was a horrible human being whose methods were as devious as they were stunningly effective. Since he was lying on his stomach, clutching the pillow to his head, she simply tossed the covers off his naked body and started kissing.

For a few moments, he was annoyed. And cold. Heartless and determined, however, she didn’t relent. Instead, she started in with her hands, stroking him wherever she could reach while she placed light, feathery kisses along his neck and down his spine. He knew he was in trouble when she began to slide one hand lightly up the inside of his leg, starting below the knee, and taking her own maddening time. He tried to be stealthy as he spread his legs to give her more access but, singleminded and evil, she simply lifted herself over one leg and used her body to push them apart. Which put her in position to launch the most indefensible phase of her assault.

Bruce groaned loudly as she began to kiss the inside of his thigh, starting about halfway up and in no hurry. He could in no way be held responsible for bending his knees and lifting his hips just enough to rut against the mattress, and he was pretty sure she violated the Geneva Convention when she slipped a hand under him, palm up, and took him in her hand. After that, he was lost. Even before she reached his balls with her treacherous, delicious, filthy mouth.

He might have been able to keep the pillow over his head, even then, if she hadn’t gone nuclear. It was the tiny little laps of her tongue, moving inexorably up from his balls toward his hole that did it. Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air under there. He gasped a lungful of sweet, cool air as he flung the pillow across the bed.

“Fuck, Cathy! Holy shit…”

He felt her slide her knee under her enough to shift her weight so that she could use both hands, keeping one underneath him where he was now fucking shamelessly into her fingers, and using the other to spread his cheeks just enough to get to his hole with that unspeakably depraved tongue. The words he howled when he came, harder than he could remember ever coming before, would have shocked any student who had ever learned quantum physics from mild-mannered Professor Banner.

It was weird that, while his pulse was racing and he was still gasping for breath, he was no more awake than he’d been when the alarm went off.

  Steve was sure that, no matter how long he lived, he would be perfectly happy to stay right in this bed, smoothly sliding deeply into Sharon and then taking his time pulling back out, repeating the process endlessly and listening to her soft, breathy moans. He wanted to slap the clock, with its insistent red numbers that he could see glowing even with his eyes closed, off the bedside table so hard that it shattered on impact. So he did.

Sharon giggled, which felt fucking amazing, and that pushed things just enough that, suddenly, he no was no longer sure he could do this for eternity. At least without losing his damn mind at some point if he couldn’t coax that tiny, electric spark he felt into the fire he needed.

He looked down at Sharon, concentration starting to color the blissed-out slackness on his face. “I love you. You feel like… You’re…”

Right this minute, Steve wasn’t thinking about anything but Sharon, and the way she felt under him, the hot wet pressure of her grasping his dick in the most glorious way. Sharon could see that in his face, and feel it in the way he moved. That was her goal. The next days were going to be tough, and Steve would be under tremendous pressure to make the mission succeed.  He hadn’t slept well, so she was doing what she could to help him begin those days at least feeling loved and satisfied.

Steve believed that a gentleman should never be satisfied before his lady was, but Sharon enjoyed breaking that rule of his, mostly for the sheer satisfaction of knowing that she could. She bucked her hips into him, lifting her legs above his back to let him plunge deeper into her.

“Oh, not fair!” He cried, and she giggled into his shoulder.

“Just fuck me, Steve.  I need you to come for me.  I love you so much…”

When she put it like that, he really had no choice.

  And then there was Sam.  

Sam woke up swearing. Steve had insisted that they go to bed, since S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing everything possible to find Anita and they would all be flying to D.C. in a few hours, anyway.  In any event, it was going to take the loadmasters that long to finish the weight calculations and securing the cargo.  Sam figured he’d had about forty-five minutes of sleep total, between cursing Steve for not leaving right away and cursing Tony for backing him.  Of course, he’d also been cursing Arias, and for good measure he cursed Phil Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D., so he’d been very busy while he was trying to make the clock move faster and decidedly not sleeping.

  Sam didn’t want to be the one everyone was avoiding on the plane, but he was completely unable to stop pacing. He kept remembering the briefing at the start of the flight, where Vision had explained the way he believed the “resource” was used in creating the destructive phenomena, and imagining Anita being subjected to that.  As soon as Sam shook that thought out of his mind, he would begin to imagine her being held captive, and the things Arias might be doing to her, while she tried to understand why no one was coming to help her.  S.H.I.E.L.D. had been right there when she was taken! How the fuck had that been allowed to happen?

For the most part, the team let him be.  Clint had tried to distract him, but he’d gotten both barrels for his trouble. After that, the rest of the team just tried to avoid eye contact.  It was a relief to all of them to land in Washington, D.C. ��They were all responsible for their own gear, and all had assignments for assisting or supervising the unloading of the rest of the equipment they’d brought from New York.

Once the trucks were loaded, a line of black SUVs with deeply tinted windows arrived to transport them to the new S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, it might have been amusing to watch the team jockeying for places in SUVs other than the one Sam was riding in.

It was Steve and Bucky who ended up with him.  The new S.H.I.E.L.D. facility was only half an hour from the former Andrews Air Force Base (now Joint Base Andrews), where they’d landed, but the ride seemed endless to Sam.  When he exploded at the sight of a traffic light turning yellow in front of them, Steve turned around to look at him in the rear seat.

“Why the fuck ain’t we in a chopper?”  Sam shouted.

“Because it won’t help us to get there ahead of our gear,” Bucky answered reasonably.

Sam responded with a string of expletives that impressed everyone else in the vehicle, even though they were all military veterans.

“Sam…”

“If you try to give me a pep talk, Cap, I swear they will have to scrape you outta this car with a spoon.”

Steve and Bucky both blinked a few times on that one.

“OK, I get that,” Steve said. “You’re worried about Anita and you need to do something. I’m not gonna tell you not to worry, because trust me, I’m worried, too.”

“Trust him on that,” Bucky snarked under his breath.

“We know where she is. We will get her out, and we will take down Arias.”

“Man, you don’t know where she is!  She could be anywhere!  There’s no guarantee she’s in that fuckin’ bunker.  Maybe he’s got something planned in one of the other locations.  Maybe he’s got her at his damn villa, maybe-“

“Not helpful,” Bucky broke in.  “We got a mission.  Even if she’s not there, we’re still gonna be helping her. Focus on the mission, Sam.  You just gotta tune out everything else.”

“So fucking easy for you to say that shit.”

“Sam.  He’s right, and I know you can filter out the noise.  Seen you do it a hundred times.  So do it.”

Steve’s tone was a definite command. It helped, for some reason. Maybe because it reminded Sam who was leading the team. Even though they weren’t suited up yet, Steve was every inch Captain America in that moment.

“On it, Cap,” Sam nodded, a little embarrassed.

“Let’s use this time to go over the plan once more.”

None of them needed to go over the plan again, but it would help Sam focus.

  One of Director Coulson’s assistants met them at the entrance to the Administration Building. They’d learned from their mistakes at the Triskelion; S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters was no longer housed in one building. Instead, it was a compound made up of various buildings, all of which were connected, but could be disconnected at the touch of a button.  Actually, there were a few buttons.  If necessary, it was possible to disconnect the underground walkways the hard way: with pre-set charges that just needed a code to reduce them to rubble.  The headquarters was also within sight of the derelict hulk of the Triskelion, because Coulson didn’t want anyone, especially himself, to forget the result of anything less than ultimate vigilance.

There were greetings as Coulson’s assistant led the group to their assigned building. It was not specifically reserved to the Avengers, but it had rooms and features that most definitely were. All of them had input into the design of the building and some of its more interesting amenities. Tony and Bruce had a shared lab, and there was an underground armory with features designed specifically for each team member’s weapons.

After stowing their gear as quickly as possible and then supervising the installation of the rest, the team headed into the conference room for a pre-mission briefing with Director Coulson and his staff. Coulson began by telling them the bad news: there had been no sign of Agent Herrera since they’d begun continuous monitoring the entrances to Arias’s underground stronghold in D.C. The facility had been monitored since they’d discovered it, but not in real time, so it had taken some time to pull and review the archived surveillance. There was an inordinate amount of activity around the entrances in the days prior to the earthquake, and it was impossible to determine whether Anita had been in any of the many vehicles that had entered or left the bunker. They knew that she had not entered through the man-sized entrance Natasha and Clint had discovered, but that was the extent of their definitive knowledge.

Sam felt better seeing the anger and concern on the faces of Director Coulson and his staff, as well as all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents crowded into the conference room who had roles in this mission.  Arias had dared to abduct one of their own.  They were pissed and determined to get her back safely, and they meant to destroy him and his operation in the process. They all knew Anita; she had trained some of them, and all had experience serving on teams with her.  It helped Sam, seeing that her safety was personal to them, too.

When the briefing was nearly complete, Scott Lang fell into the room, landing on his side with a loud, metallic crash, still wearing most of his Ant-Man suit.  He ignored the sea of staring, shocked faces, because he was too preoccupied with the bristling arsenal suddenly aimed at him.  Most of the people in the conference room were armed, and every single person with a weapon had drawn down on Scott.  

“Yeah, sorry. My bad. Tripped over the threshold.” He laughed nervously, looking up at Director Coulson, one of the few people who did not have a weapon trained on him.  As he stood, he muttered, “You might wanna get that fixed.  Y’know, lawsuits…”

“Tell me good news, Lang,” Sam barked, holstering both of his Steyr TMPs.  Like all the rest of the Avengers team, he had suited up before the meeting so he could be ready to go when it concluded.

Scott stood awkwardly, not moving further into the room.  In large part because not everyone had yet taken their aim off of him.

“Stand down, people,” Coulson snapped, irritated.

“I wish I could tell you I saw her, man, but I didn’t,” Scott said sympathetically to Sam.  “That place is airtight, at least the entrances.  Didn’t have time to go searching for ventilation shafts. Given all the buildings above that place, they could be anywhere.  So I had to wait for someone to drive in.  I didn’t get everywhere before I had to leave to get back here in time.  I didn’t see her, and nobody said anything about her.  I don’t know what that means, Sam.  Sorry.”

Sam ground his teeth.

“Arias?” Steve asked.

“Arias is down there.  That I know for sure.”

Steve nodded as a rustle went through the room at that news. “What’s he saying?”

“I wasn’t with him the whole time, had to look for Agent Herrera.  He was speaking Spanish, too, so…”

“All right, Scott, that’s OK.  You’re the only one who could get in there undetected and look for Anita.  You did what you could.”

“That’s it, then,” Coulson announced, focusing the group’s attention back to the front of the room.  “I see no reason to change the plan.”  He addressed this to Steve.

“No.  Especially now that we know where Arias is.  We’re pretty sure he’s been in the area when all of the events have happened, so If he’s here, that should mean nothing’s going to happen anywhere else for a while.”

“Why here, though?  Why D.C.?” Natasha asked a question that still remained unanswered, despite both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers devoting a great deal of brainpower to it.

Coulson looked at one of his staffers.  “We need to let the President know.”

The staffer pulled a phone out of his pocket and pushed a button as he stood, holding the phone to his ear as he walked out of the room.

“There’s one more thing,” Scott announced from where he still stood near the doors.

Something in his voice had every eye on him instantly.

“I don’t speak Spanish, but I kept hearing people say the same two things: ‘Mañana por la noche’ and ‘el principio.’  Doesn’t ‘mañana’ mean ‘tomorrow’?”

One of several Hispanic S.H.I.E.L.D. agents spoke up. “Those mean ‘tomorrow night’ and ‘the beginning’.”

Most people in the room found someone else to share glances with.  Steve and Director Coulson looked at one another.  Steve said slowly, “Tomorrow night. The beginning.”

“Tomorrow night is the beginning of whatever this guy’s got planned?” Coulson asked what everyone in the room was wondering.

“We’re not waiting around to find out,” Steve answered.

 *****

It started simply.

Vision phased through the walls of the bunker into the control room where the cameras were monitored, creating quite enough of a distraction that nobody was watching the feeds when the teams breached the underground facility. No one saw them take out the building where the vehicle entrance was, or the man-sized entrance with the stairway, except those who were there. There was plenty of shooting in the control room, which did a bit of the work for the Avengers, because apparently Arias didn’t have the strict marksmanship qualifications that S.H.I.E.L.D. did. As Arias’s men accidentally shot up their own equipment, Vision simply ignored the bullets.  He was actually in more danger from the arcs of electricity sparking from the damaged consoles.  For his purposes, all Vision had to do was avoid that and hover, which wasn’t much of a challenge.  He was busier analyzing the room to make sure there were no changes from what had been on the pictures and video from Clint and Natasha’s recon.

Of course, there were guards at the entrances, but according to the recon done by Vision and Ant-Man, Anita was nowhere near there.  Steve’s team didn’t even slow down as they breached the drive-in entrance in their impenetrable vehicles; they simply took out everyone they saw.  As for Tony’s team, they saw no one from the time Tony blew off the door at the top of the stairs to the time he blew off the door at the bottom.

The teams met in the underground garage, noting that it contained more vehicles than ever. Interestingly, however, none of them were the service vehicles that had been seen on previous visits.  Bruce was the first to notice this, and wonder what it meant.

“Get a list of those vehicles from Friday, every one anybody reported seeing down here,” Steve barked. “Then get S.H.I.E.L.D. on every camera in the city and let’s find them.  And let the Secret Service know to sweep the area around the White House for ‘em.  I don’t like that they’re all gone.”

Phil Coulson’s voice came through the comms. “Neither do I. The list’s coming through now. We’re on it. I’ll let you know when we find them.”

Steve turned to the group and put on his full command voice.  “Break into your squads.  You all know your objectives.  Clint, Natasha, I want to know the second you’ve got Arias.”

“Copy,” Clint nodded.

With a motion from Steve, the squads split up, each to a different door leading from the garage chamber. Each person had a map of the bunker on a small device strapped to their wrist, with a blinking dot showing the locations of all friendlies, the members of each squad in a different color.

Not surprisingly, Sam was leading the squad tasked with finding Anita. The squad included Wanda and three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, including Marcus Turell, Anita’s frequent partner on assignments. They were headed toward the parts of the bunker not searched by Scott, with instructions to simply remove anyone who got in their way. If another squad needed backup, they knew they could be pulled off their mission, but every one of them hoped that wouldn’t happen.

Bucky’s squad, which included Ant-Man, Joss and Sharon, was headed for the control room. There, they and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with them would set up a command post where they could use the cameras to monitor the situation throughout the bunker and relay information.

Steve’s squad included Tony and Bruce, and would take the machine. That was expected to be the most heavily guarded area, and the machine itself would require both Tony and Bruce to take out.  They only hoped the situation would allow Bruce to remain Bruce.  While handy as hell in a fight, the Hulk wasn’t so good with electronics.

Catherine Mulready was back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters with Director Coulson, monitoring and ready to provide any scientific, technical or other backup necessary.  If all went according to plan, her role would also require her to work with the S.H.I.E.L.D. technicians standing by, ready to take over satellites once the team figured out how to give those satellites something to do.

It was a good plan. The problem was, Arias had a plan that was just a little bit better. And he had the machine.

There was a reason the machine looked like the pyramids at Chichen Itza, which was that only the top part of it was needed to amplify energy.  The lower, much larger, sections were used for defense of the facility.  Like most machines, it was difficult to know, just by looking, what the machine could do. Between them, Tony, Bruce, and Catherine had determined everything that could be known about the machine simply by looking at its visible aspects and observing what it had done thus far.  They couldn’t know what else it could do.  They didn’t even know it could do something else.  But it could, and it did.

Clint and Natasha, consistent with their mission to simply find and capture Arias, had avoided contact with as many of his men as they could.  That meant hiding and simply observing them to determine who was where as they made their way around the bunker.  As they’d done that, they’d noticed something odd about those they saw, something that hadn’t been present when they’d been in the facility previously.

“Ironman, Hulk, you copy?”

“We got you, Hawkeye. What’s up?” Tony asked.

“You seen any of these assholes yet?”

“A couple so far. Why?”

“Yours got some kind of collar on?”

There was a pause before Bruce’s voice came over the comms. “Yeah. Thick, metal, got some buttons on them?”

“That’s them,” Clint confirmed. “The fuck are those?”

“Stand by, we’ll let you know when we figure it out.”

Clint and Natasha shared a look as they moved from their hiding spot to slink down an adjacent hallway.

  As Bucky led his team down the hallway toward the control room, he could hear occasional gunshots as Arias’s men still refused to give up on trying to shoot Vision.  There were occasional troubled shouts in Spanish and, twice, small groups came running down the hall, apparently trying to escape the red dude in the weird getup who just hung there in the air and didn’t have the sense to know bullets were supposed to kill you.  They were no happier to meet the Winter Soldier or Ant-Man.  

In fact, one of them griped to another as they found themselves helpless on the floor, “I told you we shouldn’t have tried to run.  At least that floaty fuck wasn’t hitting anyone.”

  Sam held up a hand, fist closed.  The squad stopped, flattening themselves against the wall of the corridor in response to the sound of someone yelling in clearly pissed-off Spanish.  There were a series of sharp clicks and bangs, which Sam recognized as the sound of weapons being slapped into hands.  Shit.  Sam moved silently back to where Wanda stood pressed against the wall and made a series of hand motions.  She nodded and stepped with him back toward the door.  

Sam took two quick breaths and whipped around the doorway, spraying bullets into the room as he grabbed for the edge of the thick, metal door.  None of the shocked men inside had time to get off a shot until after he’d already swung it past half-closed, so that the few who did manage to fire only ended up hitting the door.  Sam slammed it closed as hard as he could and flipped down the latch while Wanda sent wisps of scarlet energy into the mechanical workings inside it, bending them sufficiently to prevent it being opened using anything other than an acetylene torch and about half an hour.  They moved on down the corridor.

  Steve’s team didn’t have to go far before they met armed resistance.  At the junction of two corridors, they surprised a group of Arias’s men who were there to prevent anyone from doing exactly what Steve’s team intended; reach the machine. With the element of surprise, the team had little trouble clearing the corridor, but there was nothing stealthy about it.  Gunfire, shouts, and the sounds of fighting echoed in all directions.  Further down the corridor, perhaps around a corner, came the sound of a heavy thunk.  Steve looked back at Bruce, whose face told him that Bruce wasn’t any happier about that noise than Steve was.  

A dull scrape and a thud caused both of them to look over at Ironman, who had removed one of the thick metal collars from the neck of a man lying unconscious at his feet.  He handed the collar to Bruce, who turned it over in his hands to examine it.  

It was Steve who heard it first.  Or maybe “felt” would have been a better word, because it didn’t really seem like sound.  It seemed like some kind of slow blast wave, that hit him and immediately caused a piercing pain in his ears and a burning all over his skin.  For a few seconds, the rest of the team watched in dismay as Steve clutched at his head and grimaced.  Then, one by one, they began to feel it, too.  As soon as Tony saw Steve and then other team members begin to react, he managed to say the words, “Friday, what’s going on?” before he, too, was hit with the same screaming pain in his head.  

For him, it lasted only a few seconds, before stopping abruptly.  “It’s a hypersonic weapon of some kind, Boss.  I filtered it out of your headset, and it can’t penetrate the suit.  But you need to get everyone else out of here.  It’ll be extremely painful and it’ll start to burn them if they stay.”  

Tony saw that Bruce was already transforming, even as he reached for Steve.  He shouted at him and the rest of the team to run, to evacuate.  Steve seemed to understand and began to run, half-dragging a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was about to pass out.  Those who could followed, stumbling drunkenly as they held their hands over their ears and shrieked in agony.  A few were already on the ground.  Tony grabbed two of these, one under each arm, and began to run after Steve. He looked back from where the corridor turned a corner, to see the Hulk, looking plenty pissed as he kept hitting his head with one hand while he carried the last S.H.I.E.L.D. agent over his shoulder with the other.

On the way, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent fell from Steve’s grasp onto the floor of the corridor, taking Steve down with him. Tony stopped long enough to help Steve back to his feet, and put the agent into Steve’s arms.  They managed to get halfway back to the garage chamber before Steve fell back to the floor, writhing and holding his head.  Tony tried to help him up, but he was unconscious.

The Hulk reached them, and continued stumbling by, roaring and hitting his head.  Tony had a choice: save the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, or save Steve.  He couldn’t do both.

  Like Steve, Bucky had enhanced hearing and was the first to notice something wrong.  He stumbled and cried out, crushing his hands to his head as Joss caught him before he fell to his knees.  It took very little time for the pain to hit the rest of the team, too.  Ant-Man was the only one with a helmet that protected him somewhat, so he heard Friday’s warning about the hypersonic weapon and orders to get out.  He made a few quick adjustments to his suit to filter out most of it, and lifted Sharon from the floor where she’d fallen.  Vision appeared at the doorway to the control room, and Scott shouted to him for help.  

Although he was in the most pain due to his supersoldier hearing, Bucky was able to stagger down the corridor.  He and Joss leaned against one another and the wall, dragging eachother toward the exit.  Two of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were able to do the same thing, while Scott carried another. It was slow going, although they traveled as fast as they could.  Vision was able to dispatch the few of Arias’s men they met with energy from the Mind Stone in his forehead, which was convenient, since he had a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent under each arm.

The group made it almost to the door to the conference room Sam and Anita had been taken to on the night of the tornado before Joss lost consciousness.  She fell to the floor as Bucky tried to keep her upright.  He leaned over, attempting to pick her up, but ended up falling over her prone body himself and seemed unable to rise.  When Scott turned around, he saw that the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were about ten feet behind him, unconscious in a heap.  

Vision had his hands full.  Scott could probably drag one agent behind him, but that would still leave three of them behind, including either Bucky or Joss.

Sam and his team were the deepest inside the bunker, with the farthest to go to safety, when the sound began.  The first indication was when Marcus Turell uttered a high-pitched shriek and fell to his knees.  After that, he didn’t notice what else happened, because he was hit by a blinding pain in his head and the skin on his bare arms began to burn.  He dropped his weapon as he turned to see Wanda begin to scream.

  Director Coulson was speaking calmly into his mic, but Catherine wasn’t fooled.  She could see the terror on his face and she could hear for herself the screams and desperate shouts of the team.  She could also hear a roar she’d only heard once before in her life, but it was a sound she’d know anywhere.  Bruce had transformed into the Hulk.  And even he sounded like he was in agony.

“Damn it, somebody respond!  What is your status?”  Coulson was now yelling.  

No one was responding.