#so he subjugated them and took over their whole thing

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

I love the idea of an unhinged Mondstadt, like, after Decarabian dies, the people are so wary around Barbatos, who has done so much to make them feel comfortable, that one day he just snaps and goes “Be strong enough to kill me too, then!”

And the Imunlaukr took that as a challenge. Because, like, Barbatos gave them hope and purpose, and their whole thing is battling until they die, so when the only person they've ever cared about tells them to get strong enough to become Professional God Killers, that's exactly what they do!

And obv, the Gunnhildrs take this as the Imunlaukr challenging their turf as Most Pious Clan, so they start getting stronger too — and the Lawrence Clan sees this and goes “We survived the blizzard, we can't let these weaklings think they're better than us.” And the general populous of Mond is either like “Well, our god told us to so we gotta”, “These clan members are crazy, we've gotta be strong too so they can't subjugate us”, or “Oh fuck yeah, everyone is actually trying to kill this upstart god, let's get stronger to kill him!”

And suddenly Mondstadt's culture forms around getting strong enough to one day kill Barbatos. Of course, over time, it's less out of “kill him before he enslaves us” and more “one day he will erode, and he trusts us to dispose of him when that day comes”

And obviously, Barbatos has to stick around as a measuring stick, right? So he does, and the strongest warriors (who are coincidentally the most faithful, given that they're usually Imunlaukr, Lawrence, or Gunnhildr, and those that aren't are experienced enough soldiers that they quickly realize Barbatos doesn't actually like hurting people whatsoever) quickly form a rapport with him that easily turns into proper friendship. And when other gods come around looking for a fight (because the Archon War didn't end until 600 years after Decarabian kicks the bucket) they get the perfect test dummies — early on, they are, of course, mostly just in the way, but they get better surprisingly quickly, and by the time the Archon War is over, gods generally stay away from Mond because “They're fucking crazy — they killed [blank] without their god's help, how the fuck–” which of course gets them a reputation that has even Liyue coming over to sign a nonaggression pact because they'd rather not risk it when Morax is basically a shoe-in for Geo Archon.

And by the time Barbatos comes around with a new baby dragon, the populous has mostly taken a liking to him, so there's less “Assassinate the child” and more “This kid needs to learn how to slit throats with his bare wings or he'll be a disappointment”

As for Andrius, he finds the humans that come around for fights more entertaining than before, so he doesn't really mind the change too much. Especially since most of them respect when he says no. Those that don't quickly get taught the difference between a friendly spar and an actual murder attempt.

And when Vennessa's clan comes around, they are welcomed with open arms because “New fighting techniques! A clan of warriors!” and many quickly reach the level of their strongest warriors (who in turn are stronger than their predecessors, the Actual God Killers)

As for Barbatos himself… he's just kinda rolling with it. The people don't mind him hanging around, and it's honestly gotten kinda fun to dodge random assassination attempts (definitely not something he expected to enjoy, given that he still doesn't like fighting that much), and it's super cute when kids come up and try to lure him into a false sense of security before stabbing him. He gets to play songs in the square with the other bards (because a culture is certainly more than a single aspect, and I doubt you'll ever take music out of Mond's blood, especially with Barbatos Himself in the city to fuel it) and people treat him as an equal or a role model rather than a god… mostly. The church is actually concerningly cultish, but they haven't actually tried to undermine anyone's freedom, so if its activities and teachings are voluntary Barbatos kinda has to let it slide.

And yes, this is absolutely an excuse to have a crazy competent Barbara, ready to drown anyone that says something bad about Barbatos, and a Rosaria that is actually super respected in the church for her skills and embracement of Freedom. Is this a role swap where Jean is in awe of her younger sister? Maybe, actually, because that would be cool. The other nuns are also scary — even without a vision, pretty much everyone in Mond knows their way around at least one kind of weapon, and the nuns are particularly vicious, ready for the day they must take down their beloved Barbatos.

And obviously Lisa is the scariest of the bunch. She's not just an electro user, she's also a MAGE. She went to Sumeru, learned very little, and came back to further refine her God-Sealing techniques (a long-held tradition: new mages look over old techniques for when Barbatos erodes and see how they can be improved). You piss her off and you'll be lucky if you suddenly disappear (the less lucky learn that the Knights are almost as bad as the Church, just way better at hiding it)

Bennett too, is generally accepted. His bad luck causes a lot of surprises, but what warrior has bad reflexes? The fact that he's gotten personal training from Sir Kaeya means he's a generally good (meaning, absolutely insane in the eyes of other nations [except maybe Natlan]) swordsman. And, given the general danger level around Mond, the fact that he's still alive is something everyone views as a bit of a miracle — he MUST be good if he's still alive with that kind of luck.

(The Traveler is morbidly intrigued, and when Mond realizes they're a really good swordsman with a never before seen style… well, they get waylaid for a bit longer than intended. Mondstadt is kinda viewed as “home” in canon, so even with this culture shift, the Traveler does settle in nicely lol — Paimon struggles a bit more, but once someone teaches her to use a catalyst after her first experience being useless and unable to help the Traveler in a dangerous situation, she's just as comfortable as anyone else, and she can actually help the Traveler in a fight now! This gets rid of like half of Paimon's attachment issues and trauma.)

Other nations are very politely looking the other way (mostly, because you know Damn Well Tartaglia took one look at them and decided he needed to fight them NOW), but Natlan, oh Natlan. Before the Cataclysm, it was very hard to not find a group of Natlanese in Mond or a group of Mondstadters in Natlan, even now, Mondstadters are often seen there, and they're pretty understanding of the whole "Unable to leave or we'll suffer" thing — they have mages working on it. If they can kill a god, surely they can help their battle buddies out! Natlan and Mondstadt are very close allies despite literally being on opposite side of the continent (hey the trip there is part of the fun!) and everyone else is just begging to not ever have to fight them. (In other news, Thoma scares the shit out of Inazuma and both Ayato and Ayaka are stronger than canon thanks to him — even Sayu's picked up a few tricks! And Verr Goldet is both terrifying and the perfect wife, Huai'an loves her and all her terrifyingness, she is amazing at dealing with bitchy customers because all of them shut up once they learn she's from Mond. Xiao has mixed feelings: she's strong, but that also means she's strong enough to back it up when she bosses him around — he doesn't NEED sleep, just let him do his job!)

Aside from all the stabbings (which are honestly more of a friendly greeting now, don't worry about it), Barbatos actually has a much healthier relationship with his people here. He doesn't have to pretend to be weak to keep their peace of mind, he doesn't have to hide his godhood, and Dvalin is well socialized and not reliant on just him for company. Barbatos can be chilling with a drink, wings out and everything, and friendly drunkards won't even hesitate to sling an arm around him and drag him into a drinking song. Bards actively join him for songs rather than aspiring to reach his “perfection”, and kids love running around underfoot to ask him questions about all manner of things.

But anyway, mostly an excuse for scary nuns, not the hit of sadness when you realize he doesn't have that kind of safety and confidence in canon.

[stanleymyhusband]

Stanley x fem reader

A new world (part 2)

The time when Stanley, Xeno and reader got unpertified and try to survive.

Stanley and reader are in a situationship but during the story it changes

Y/N, while incredibly intelligent herself, had settled into a role where she contributed her medical and biological knowledge. Her advice was often what guided Xeno’s more scientic strategies, especially when it came to utilizing plants or identifying medicinal herbs. They worked well together—two minds, balancing each other out—but there was always something beneath the surface. A tension she wasn’t sure how to read, especially when it came to Stanley.

Stanley and Xeno had known each other since childhood. Their bond was unshakeable, and even though Stanley now worked under Xeno, his loyalty wasn’t out of subjugation. They were partners in the truest sense of the word, each having shaped the other in ways that only they truly understood. Y/N hadn’t seen them interact much before, but she had caught glimpses of their closeness—how Xeno seemed to rely on Stanley’s steady strength, and how Stanley’s unwavering support for Xeno went beyond just friendship.

It made Y/N feel like a bit of an outsider, despite Stanley’s constant presence at her side. She had started getting closer to him, but there was so much left unsaid between them. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that Stanley, who had always been a bit of an enigma to her, might be hiding something from her, or maybe he just hadn’t figured out what they were either.

That afternoon, Xeno had sent Stanley and Y/N on an expedition to a nearby river to collect water and gather some of the resources Xeno had requested. It was a simple task, but Y/N couldn’t ignore the tension in the air, especially as she found herself walking beside Stanley in the silence between them.

As they reached the edge of the river, the sound of rushing water filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet of the rest of the world. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a dappled glow on the path in front of them. Y/N knelt down at the bank to fill the wood containers they’d made, the coolness of the water a welcome relief in the heat.

Stanley, who had been silent up until this point, leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes lingered on the water for a moment before they shifted to Y/N, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” he said, his voice casual but warm. "I mean, you’ve got this whole calm, collected thing going on. Don’t know how you do it."

Y/N let out a breath, filling the first container. “I guess... it’s just easier when you’ve been through enough to know that you can handle whatever comes next.” She glanced up, catching his eyes, her heart skipping a beat. “Besides, you’re the one who’s always calm. Always ready to protect the group.”

Stanley smiled a little more, though there was something in his eyes that made Y/N feel like he wasn’t just talking about the group anymore. There was an underlying tension, something she couldn’t fully name, but it felt like it was just waiting to bubble to the surface.

“I’m only as calm as the people around me,” Stanley said with a shrug, his tone lighter now. “I guess you could say I’m... a product of my environment.”

Y/N laughed softly, though it was more nervous than she meant. She felt the need to turn her focus back to the task at hand, her fingers tightening around the edge of the container as she filled it. “I guess I’ve been lucky,” she said quietly, her mind drifting. “Having you around...”

Stanley watched her for a moment, his gaze softening. “Lucky, huh?” He took a few steps closer, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “I think it’s more of a mutual thing. You’ve been a big help to Xeno. Honestly, we wouldn’t be this far without your advice.”

Y/N tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. “Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” She glanced over at him, her eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t quite place. “I mean, you’re not used to relying on me... you and Xeno...”

Stanley’s expression flickered, something almost unreadable in his eyes. He took a step forward, his voice soft but intense. “You’re more than just Xeno’s right hand. Don’t think of yourself low, Y/N.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and Y/N felt her heart rate pick up slightly. There was a lot unsaid between them, a lot of emotion building in the tension that was so palpable she could almost touch it.

A soft breeze ruffled their hair, and for a brief moment, everything felt quieter.

“So,” Stanley said, breaking the silence, his grin returning, “Xeno’s probably waiting for us to get back and get to work, right?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, even though a part of her was still caught in the moment, her mind buzzing with thoughts. “Yeah, we should probably hurry before he starts analyzing stones and making it into a whole science experiment.”

Stanley laughed, the sound light and easy. “That’s what he does best, though.” His gaze lingered on her for a second longer, the air around them thick with something that neither of them dared to address fully just yet. “But hey, don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been looking out for all of us. You’re doing a hell of a job.”

Y/N’s chest fluttered at the unexpected praise, and she gave him a soft, genuine smile. “Thanks, Stanley. Really.”

They continued working together, gathering what Xeno had requested, but as they headed back toward the group, there was a certain ease between them, a quiet understanding that this—whatever it was—was only the beginning. Stanley, though still the protective soldier he’d always been, had shown her a side of him that was less about strength and more about trust.

And Y/N? She couldn’t help but think that there was something more between them—something waiting to grow.

[jjkamochoso]

Hey Jealousy

Angst, Fluff

Gen Narumi x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: Gen gets jealous when Soshiro flirts with his crush!; takes place during Chapter 57 :)

Warnings: none

“What’s the big deal? It’s just Third Division.”

You didn’t realize how much of an impact your words had made on your comrades in the First Division until you noticed it had gone completely quiet around you as everyone stared at you in shock.

“Huh? Just Third Division? Don’t ya know they’re our biggest enemies?” Gen Narumi asked you in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t our biggest enemies be the kaiju? If we’re all working to eliminate them, should we really have a rivalry?” you wondered. Your soldiers couldn’t speak a word; they weren’t expecting to hear their beloved platoon leader spout such nonsense!

“It’s because you haven’t met them yet,” Gen told you, slapping a hand to your back. “Once you have the displeasure of talking to the Third Division, you’ll understand why we hate them.”

Well, here you were, standing before some members of the Third Division, and you still couldn’t grasp the hatred between the two Tokyo factions. Gen had invited you along to “greet” (confront) them as they entered your base and as you eyed them from your spot next to Gen, you waited to see what the fuss was all about.

“Hoshina!” Gen yelled, stepping up to the Third Division’s vice captain. “Who the hell gave you permission to step into my territory, ay?”

Soshiro looked completely unfazed. “My oh my, what a grand welcome for Captain Narumi to personally greet us.”

The vice captain turned his attention to you, his eyes looking you up and down before smiling coyly.

“And who might you be?” he asked. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you before. I certainly would’ve remembered a stunning face like yours.”

You felt your whole body warm at his obvious flirtation. Gen immediately tensed up beside you, stepping forward once more and slightly shielding your body from Soshiro’s view.

“Who they are is none of your business,” Gen growled, pointing an accusatory finger at a smirking Soshiro. “I suggest you get out of here or I won’t hesitate to throw you out. Personally.”

“I have received permission from the higher ups in the main branch, so don’t mind us,” Soshiro explained.

“Nope, no go. This base is off limits for folks with bowl cuts or fox eyes and you fit under both of those.”

“Oh? Could it be that you’re still holdin’ a grudge?” Soshiro suggested, a playful tone in his voice. “You’re still angry that I beat you in the subjugation exercise ranking for the small monster category?”

Gen fell to his knees in dismay at the reminder of his failure. As you went to comfort him, Soshiro took note of your ranking plastered on your jacket and the worry that was present in your expression as you helped Gen back to his feet. You were treating the captain with more tenderness than expected from a platoon leader to their superior, and vice versa with Gen protecting you with a fervor Soshiro had never witnessed from the childish First Division member, all of which strongly suggested you two harbored some sort of romantic feelings for one another. The violet haired man giggled to himself, knowing his latest way of getting under Gen’s skin was sure to work.

“So, my lovely platoon leader,” Soshiro said, capturing your attention, “what else do you do in your free time besides being this good looking?”

Not used to being so brazenly hit on, you cleared your throat as you struggled to maintain your composure and release the words that were stuck on your tongue.

“Uh, you know, a little bit of this and that. Watch movies, walk around town. That sort of thing.”

“I see. Real date night stuff, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you squeaked, your voice barely heard over the quarreling between the division members next to you.

“Do you have any plans later? Maybe you could give me the grand tour of the base?” Soshiro asked you, flashing his signature fanged grin as he leaned in closer to you. Your heart began racing, unsure of what to say. Vice Captain Hoshina was smiling at you like the Cheshire Cat while Gen was glaring daggers at him.

“I-well, I… don’t know what I’m doing later but-”

“Keep at it, you guys!” Gen interrupted you loudly as he encouraged your comrades to continue their bickering with the other division. “The only record Hoshina broke was the small monsters! Aside from that, I hold the rest of the titles!”

“Gen, wait! I don’t think that’s true!” you warned, but it was too late. Soshiro had already heard him clearly and was gearing up to release the final blow to Gen’s ego.

“Doesn’t Captain Ashiro hold the title for the sniper category?”

Down Gen went, hitting the ground with a thump and splaying out in his defeat. You were about to help him up again when someone gently tapped their finger on your shoulder.

Soshiro was practically batting his eyelashes at you. “Will I ever get a name to go along with such a lovely person?”

“L/n. Y/n L/n,” you answered, looking away shyly. Gen had finally stood back up, fueled by his distaste for Soshiro that was only increasing the more he heard him speak to you. When he spied Soshiro’s hand gripping yours, about to bring it to his lips, that’s when any shred of respect for the man permanently left his body. Seeing red, he marched over to you and forcibly removed Soshiro’s grip on your fingers and then swatted his hand away, leaving Soshiro unsuccessfully hiding his rambunctious laughter.

“I’ve really struck a nerve there!” Soshiro exclaimed, wiping tears from his eyes as he fought to catch his breath between cackles. “I’ve never seen you this worked up! Is someone jealous?”

Gen bared his teeth in anger. “Shut up! I don’t like you! Get out of here imme-”

You were about to ask Gen what the hell his problem was, but you never got the chance, seeing as Vice Captain Hasegawa had shown up and hit Gen over the head with a fan, telling him to be quiet. Hasegawa led Soshiro away to the meeting, the cheeky vice captain not leaving without shooting you a wink. Gen quickly followed suit and you had to wait until their meeting was over to try to get to the bottom of what was going on.

You raced to Gen’s room later that night, itching to find out what had gotten into him earlier that morning. You knocked on the door but heard no answer, prompting you to knock louder and incessantly.

“I know you’re in there.”

“I’m not here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let me in, Narumi.”

You heard footsteps near the door and he barely opened it, peeking his head out and scowling at you.

“Oh, it’s just Narumi now? Ouch.”

“Mind explaining to me what you were doing this morning?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, faking ignorance.

“The whole thing with Hoshina! He was just being nice.”

Gen’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Being nice. Being nice? That’s what you call that?! That guy is… is… he’s a menace! A loser! You wanted me to stand by and do nothing?”

“Yes!” you scoffed. “God forbid someone flirts with me. Is it so bad that he thought I was cute? Is it wrong that I liked the attention that I’ve been missing for so long?”

“You like him?” Gen asked incredulously, his hair flopping around.

“I never said I liked him! I said I liked the attention.”

“You know what, I’m sure Hoshina’s still on base somewhere,” he grumbled. “You can go find him and live your happy little lives together. Just leave me out of it.”

Gen shut the door in your face, leaving you alone in the hallway with your racing thoughts. What was wrong with him? He had always been someone you could count on in any situation and was the person you trusted the most. You had always been his confidant, being able to talk to you about anything—why was he shutting you out completely right now? Why was recieving a tiny amount of affection from another man bothering him so much?

“Gen, please talk to me,” you pleaded through the door. “I don’t want you to be upset with me when I don’t even know what I did.”

No response.

“We’re having this conversation eventually so it’s best if we get it over with now.”

Silence.

“I thought we were friends,” you started to say, but stopped when the door flew open.

“I don’t want to be friends with you, y/n!” he blurted, his face contorted with distress. “I can’t! I can’t do it anymore!”

You were absolutely taken aback. “What? Why?”

“What happens when another guy comes around and you do like him, huh? What am I supposed to do then?”

Gen was running his fingers through his hair nervously and you still had no clue what he was talking about.

“You’re not making any sense-”

“I like you, okay?” he confessed. “I have for so long now. I hate the thought of you being with someone else other than me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

You were at a complete loss for words, not at all expecting that to be the reason for his odd behavior.

“It’s not pathetic at all,” you said quietly. “That whole time Hoshina was saying those things… I was wishing it was you instead.”

Now it was Gen’s turn to be stunned. “Wait, then why did you get mad at me for pulling you away from him?”

“Because I thought I’d never have a chance with you. I figured maybe I could get over my feelings for you if I found someone else. Convinced myself I liked them.” You inhaled deeply. “But I know there’s no one else for me and there never will be. You’re the only person I could possibly want.”

Gen breathed out a sigh of relief. “I feel the same about you.”

You couldn’t help your giddy smile that arose as you studied the handsome man in front of you.

“Now that we got our first fight out of the way, how about we try the whole kiss-and-make-up thing?” you asked, biting your lower lip in anticipation. Gen took you by the waist and pulled you inside his room, closing the door with his foot.

“We can definitely do that,” he murmured with a grin, leaning into you.

[deathlessathanasia]

Let me make it clearer why I find it annoying when people read so much in the fact that to Athena alone was attributed no punishment for the attempted binding of Zeus:

In the account of the binding of Zeus provided in the Iliad itself, Hera, Poseidon and Athena are the only gods mentioned by name. Apollo is not. No punishment for this is mentioned for any of these three.

In the Iliad itself it is stated that Poseidon and Apollo worked for Laomedon (they were supposed to be paid for it too) for one year at the command of Zeus. No reason is provided, and assuming that it was a punishment for the attempted binding doesn't make sense since Apollo is not mentioned among the participants in the poem.

In the Iliad itself it is also stated that Hera was hung in the sky for sending a storm against Herakles.

Obviously, the ancient commentators tried to make sense of this brief reference to a rebellion, and one of the things they did was attempt to come up with punishments for the gods. Since they seem to have had no other source to go on, they simply took the punishment of Hera that is mentioned in the Iliad and Poseidon and Apollo working for Laomedon also mentioned in the Iliad and claimed them to have been punishments for rebelling against Zeus. It did not matter that according to the Iliad Hera was hung in golden chains for an entirely different reason, it did not matter that according to the Iliad Apollo was not one of the gods who wanted to bind Zeus. They simply threw Apollo in with the other three, or actually replaced Athena with him. An almost identical account of the binding of Zeus is mentioned in the A scholia and in the D scholia, except that in one Athena is present and in the other she is not, but Apollo is present in both of them even though in the binding of Zeus related in the Iliad he is not. The story is attributed to Didymos (a 1st century BCE scholar and grammarian) and relates that Zeus, having gained power over the sky, began to abuse his authority. In consequence Poseidon, Hera, Apollo and Athena or only the first three of these wished to bind and subjugate him, but Thetis learned this from her seer father Nereus and went to Olympos together with Aegaeon, described as a sea god who had once prevailed over Poseidon. When Zeus heard what had happened from Thetis, he hung Hera in golden chains, sent Poseidon and Apollo to work for Laomedon, and reserved the honor of Achilles for Thetis in the time to come. The problem with scholia is that we can't really know if a story related in them was simply made up in order to flesh out what is stated in the text they are commentating on, or if they reflect genuine traditions that people knew well from elsewhere. In this case the first variant seems more plausible considering how poorly attested this rebellion is, the very convenient explanation for how Thetis learned of the rebellion and the reference to Achilles' future honour, not to mention how likely it is that the whole idea of this binding was a Homeric innovation meant to conveniently place Zeus in Thetis' Debt and also suggested by the fact that the gods who tried to bind Zeus are the main Achaian supporters in the Iliad. Consider,too, the poorly fitting details in the story attributed to Didymos in the scholia: the rebellion supposedly happens shortly after Zeus comes to power, but the punishment of Poseidon and Apollo only takes place in the time of Laomedon, not long before the Trojan War itself. Even assuming that Didymos took the idea of this early divine rebellion from a source other than the Iliad, the connection between it and the punishment of Poseidon and Apollo feels quite tenuous and forced.

In any case, Athena comes out of this with no punishment because there is nothing in the Iliad that later commentators could use for this purpose. It's literally that simple. No source makes a point out of this, no one even brought it up to praise Athena, it was never treated as something meaningful. Because it isn't.

[valancedbreakfast]

the more i think about the story of totk the more the whole thing reads as propaganda

but like, not even "the memories link sees and the stories rauru told link and zelda are fake to secure his power and legitimacy" but like "even the actions we see link and zelda take in this story are part of the lie being told to US the viewer"

the GAME ITSELF is imperialist propaganda designed to legitimize rauru's rule

and the bits and pieces of it that let us see it as a lie are the cracks in the story. the ways it contradicts itself and the established history that we do know from botw

the fact that when faced with an attack on his life by princess zelda, the zora king hid himself away fearing that she could and would do far worse to him and his people despite all other parts of the story saying how perfect and wonderful she is

"link and especially zelda are absolutely complicit. it actively undermines them as characters"

no no no. i'm saying the actions we see them take are also lies

the entire game is a fallacy

look at the zelda from botw. there is nothing of her real personality present in totk. instead she's been replaced with a perfect queen who is self sacrificing and acts with dignity and poise

how the fuck is that the autistic girl we saw trying to get link to eat a frog? how is that the girl we saw abused and terrorized by the weight of the monarchy?

oh really? according to this legend about the great and amazing past of hyrule she was transported back to hyrule's founding where the benevolent rauru took her in as his own because he's so caring and kind. oh after rauru's wife was ruthlessly murdered by the very evil dark skinned man from a far away land, zelda sacrificed herself to give the hero the ability to defeat that evil once and for all? oh and then her great personal sacrifice was rewarded by being returned to her original form in the present day? how convenient

good thing our wise brave and perfect princess SAW the founder of hyrule with her own eyes and can assure us of his legitimacy. it would be silly to doubt the monarchy when we know this

like the whole thing reads like a lie told purely to convince us that rauru is the true ruler of hyrule instead of some schmuck who came from "the sky" with his people who mined all the resources from the lands and then fucked off with them, leaving behind just rauru who has an uncontrollable fascination and love for humans

oh, the whole game being propaganda and rauru just being some guy who took over also makes the timeline make sense again.

all the timeline we understand is still the same. but in the tens of thousands of years since those timeline, the zonai show up, subjugate everyone, mine all the zonaite and fuck off, but rauru encounters the hylians, becomes fascinated by them and stays behind, inserts himself into their existing mythology by renaming himself rauru (the sage of light from legend), meddling in the existing cycle of reincarnation between ganon, zelda, and link by sealing ganondorf in a way that disrupts the cycle and then long after he's gone and relegated to myth, his meddling results in the calamity because an infinity stone empowered ganondorf is chilling in the basement pouring malice into the world

what follows then is a cycle of fighting the recurring calamity aided by the shiekah tech, 10k years pass, the calamity happens again and then botw happens

link and zelda did explore under the castle and accidentally unsealed ganondorf, but where the propaganda that is the game says "oh and they saved the world with the help of rauru from the past!" in actuality, it's just a really typical loz story and they defeat ganon. zelda never actually went back in time or became a dragon, link never lost his arm and had it replaced with rauru's arm. They literally just didn't do basically any of the shit in the game. they just did a really normal post apocalyptic world saving like every reincarnation of them that came before

which is why when we see them after defeating ganondorf, they're just as they were before going under the castle

what the upheaval actually revealed was the proof of the zonai's existence and clues about how they subjugated the peoples of the past

[whalesongsblog]

🦋The Princess and the Parselmouth🦋

Chapter 3: Something so tragic about you, something so magic about you

Princess Miradevi did not know what to make of Ominis Gaunt.

He belonged in the wing of the palace where they displayed the artwork, she decided. Right there with the oils and brilliant colors of landscapes and portraits, his features studied down to the atoms by the best painters in the empire.

His classically handsome features carved from marble and moonstone were stunning enough but there was something about him-

Something hidden and tucked away. Nestled in the slight crease against the corner of his lips when he graced her with a smile, sequestered away in the way he swayed slightly when listening to music he loved.

But there was also the heavy look in his eyes so achingly tragic- Icarus falling from the sky, the last golden rays of sunlight condemning him and the rush of the ocean rising to swallow him whole.

Miradevi wanted to draw out each carefully concealed piece of him like a treasure, the likes of which were only found in her family’s vaults.

“You’re staring, your highness.”

Mira startled, her chin slipping off where it rested on the palm of her hand. 
Ominis laughed softly, leaning back in his seat. Students were filing into the lecture hall, filling up the seats around them. 

“I-“ Mira began, sheepish. “Might have been. I was just trying to… understand something.” She paused for a moment. “You’re an enigma, Ominis Gaunt.”

“Ah, am I? Should I be flattered?”

“Maybe? I’d quite like to know you better, you know.”

Ominis was silent for a moment, his heart- traitorous thing that it was-beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs. 
“Why?” The question left his lips before he could think. “Why would you want that?”

“I think it’d just be an honor. To know you, that is.”

His heart was slamming against his chest now, frantic as butterfly wing beats against a closed window.

An honor.

xxxxxxxxx

“-And I would like to conclude by pointing out that many of these laws have been passed with not an ounce of input from the communities they are impacting. Werewolves, for example, have no say in-“

A scoff, from her opponent.

Princess Miradevi Surya Lakshmi drew herself up slightly behind the podium, her ordinarily soft brown eyes narrowing.

“As I was saying. Werewolves are denied employment due to archaic laws they have no control over. Muggleborns like myself are still not represented in the Wizengamot, and if this society has any hope for cohesion and collective action, perhaps the government should focus on repairing what is broken rather than taking a hammer to an already shaky foundation. The Purity Act reeks of injustice, corruption, and a horrific attempt at subjugating muggleborns and halfbloods.” Miradevi stepped back from the podium, chin lifted.

“I yield my time.”

Silence, for a few beats, before there was tentative applause echoing in the lecture hall.

Professor Binn’s wizarding politics course was not exactly rousing, and his debate exercises were hardly crowd stirrers. Dissent from the norm was few and far between, the class somewhat of a droning echo chamber despite Binns’ best efforts at sparking discussion.

“Your highness.”

Miradevi turned, the princess’s lips lifting into a smile at the familiar, aristocratic voice. She reached out a mehendi- patterned hand to the heir of Slytherin as he approached her.

“Ominis.”

Ominis Gaunt took her hand, trying not fixate on how soft the slender digits were, how perfectly they fit in his palm- a puzzle piece coming together, the edges and curves slotting beautifully together. 
“My princess.” He murmured, his voice soft as he bowed, bringing his lips to brush a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. “You were… incredible. I do think Atticus Zabini will choose his battles more carefully in the future.”

Miradevi laughed, ducking her head slightly in a rare moment of humility. Her brothers long suffered their little sisters’ crowing when she bested them in anything, yet she could not bring herself to do the same now. 


“You’re very heavy handed with the flattery.” She tried to brush it off, willing away the heat rising on her neck. 
Beyond the hall, the students were swarming to their next classes or to the grounds beyond the university. Spring was upon them, and Mira could taste the nectar- sweet scent of flowers blooming on the hills, the sharp snap of pollen in her nose.

“I do not say things I don’t mean.” Ominis realized she had fallen into step beside him, following him, letting him guide her through the stone halls. “You were articulate and erudite, and I do hope that your thoughts on the Purity Act reach people who are in desperate need to hear it.”

“I don’t understand how such a law could even be suggested, let alone open to debate in the Wizengamot.” Miradevi frowned slightly. “And any voice of dissent is suppressed. Muggleborns who take issue with the law have to go through ridiculous beauraucratic hoop-jumping to get their voices heard when we are the ones most likely to be affected by it.”

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely, my princess.” Ominis said quietly. “The Wizengamot has always catered to the whims of pureblood families and have been rewarded immensely for it.”

“Good to know that corruption is a constant no matter where one goes.” Mira’s tone was airy. Feeling slightly daring, she gently squeezed Ominis’ hand. “I must take my leave. My next class is all the way on the other side of the castle. I hope I run into you again, Ominis.”

“The sentiment is shared, my princess.” He said quietly. He heard a soft rustle of fabric and realized Miradevi had given him a small curtsey.

Heat flooded his face at the political implication of that move and before he could say anything or do anything besides gape slightly, the princess had walked off with a swish of her sari, her heeled shoes clicking on the flagstones.

xxxxxxxxxx

“I feel… still.”

Miradevi cracked open her eyes, squinting slightly against the glare of sunlight. Her arms were crossed behind her head as she lay on the soft grass swaying against her, wildflowers blooming along the steep slopes of the Scottish highlands.

The princess turned slightly, where Ominis lay on the grass beside her, his hands interlaced on his chest.

“How do you mean?” 
“I mean..” Ominis sighed softly.

What did he mean?

“…I feel the grass on my skin. I can hear the wind in the pines- and nothing is pulling me away from that. Like my body is melting into the earth and this moment could be my last but- I’d have no issue with it.”

Mira made a satisfied little sound, shifting on the grass. A little smile quirked her lips as her eyes slid closed again, the sun lulling her into drowsy lethargy.


“That’s fine. I think that’s just peace, Ominis.”

xxxxxxxx

Ominis had never liked the roar of the ocean. It conjured up far too vivid sensations of being buffeted by towering waves, submerged despite any attempts at keeping his head above water. He’d never gone deeper into a body of water than his ankles, anyway.

There was no point.

He’d fought all his life to keep his head above water. To claw and kick and scream against the tide tht dragged him down and this- this felt like a sweet surrender.

Like the waters of the warm tropics, of the far-off beaches he heard about where the ocean was calm.

Gentle.

And he could let the tide take him, knowing it would never try and pull him under.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Three weeks. Three weeks, 21 days, gods knew how many seconds she had been in his life.

It was a torment sweeter than anything Ominis had ever tasted in his life. For some unfathomable reason she was haunting him, the faint sound of her laughter or the chatter of her molasses- thick accent drifting along the ancient stone walls just a few moments too late before he could catch up to her.

She was a figment of his imagination, he tried to tell himself. A small piece of starlight captured from the sky and cupped secretly in the palms of his hands -but then he’d enter the common room, or a lecture hall and-

Hello, Ominis!

Kaise ho, Ominis?

Sab kuch theek chal raha hai?

She’d be there.

Her presence, solid and real, shining bright as a solar flare. She’d chatter with him, her voice dropping slightly from the stately, regal tone it usually held, sometimes a mishmash of Hindi and English as she got enthusiastic.

Like water breathing life into dry earth, the princess seeped into each carefully constructed wall around him, seeping in through cracks too splintered to patch. He tried, he tried- to press bleeding hands to the walls and keep her out, but the attempt was doomed from the start.

———————

AN: shorter one, but I’m trying to cook up a plot 😅This chapter was inspired entirely by Hozier’s cover of Do I Wanna Know, and also me being very emotional about the TikTok ban 🥲 as always, pls feel free to let me know what you think!

[thesullenprincess]

Any other writers out there struggle with going back to writing that one fic they haven’t finished yet because they’ve come up with a new idea and WANT to write about THAT instead??

I want to expand on my newest fic ‘Coming Home’ vs working on the first fic that I still haven’t finished but keep telling myself I’ll get around to it… Sigh.

Anyway here’s an excerpt of that said heartache.

“Please, touch me,” Mitsuri begged without embarrassment, unwilling to break eye contact so that he understood she was ready and willing.

Obanai wasted no more time in trying to talk himself out of anything anymore. He did as he was told, starting with her right breast. Since his hand was already mostly grabbing it, he just slightly adjusted his fingers so they were evenly splayed over the whole mound. Even so, he couldn’t get his whole hand around the entirety of her, and he didn’t know whether he should feel incredibly embarrassed, or incredibly turned on.

Growing up, Obanai was fully aware how much smaller he was compared to other men his age, something that had gotten under his skin frequently, but no more so than the time he’d been promoted to Hashira and gotten a first look at Tengen and Gyōmei. The latter especially was a towering mountain of a man, twice the size of Obanai, but was someone the Serpent Pillar quickly came to count on, trust, and respect due to the man’s commendable power and relaxed, silent nature. Tengen, on the other hand, was a different story. Unlike the Stone Pillar, Uzui Tengen was boisterous, self-assured, and—to hear him describe himself—a “Flamboyant God of Festivals”. It had taken Obanai a good long while to see beyond Tengen’s cocky attitude and need to make everything about himself but eventually, Obanai also came to rely on the the Sound Pillar, seeing him not only as a worthy ally and dependable on the battle field, but also a decent man of morals when it came to destroying demons and helping others.

In the earlier days, however, Obanai would often feel dwarfed, emasculated, compared to them. It didn’t help matters too that out of all the Hashira, he was closest in height to Muichirō, a 14 year old boy, and Shinobu, a woman. But he reasoned being locked up for over have his life, subjugated with endless torture and trauma, and not eating most days stunted many things about him. There was no changing that and he eventually made peace with that part of himself.

But now, staring at his hand that didn’t quite fit over Mitsuri’s right breast, Obanai was starting to question if everything about himself would not be enough for her, be quite right for her. What if she thought he was too small, too thin? Would he be able to perform well enough to satisfy her, or would she find the whole experience underwhelming, leaving her feeling starved and empty at the end?

She whimpered, drawing his attention from her chest to her face. “S-Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he blushed, about to pull his hand away completely if Mitsuri’s inhuman strength hadn’t prevented him from doing so. She squeezed his hand over her breast.

“You’re fine! I-I just…like it done harder.” Mitsuri shyly smiled while Obanai struggled to contain himself. If he was this flustered with some light groping there was no telling how he’d fare when he finally got to have all of her.

He took in a deep breath through his mouth and out his nose, allowing his fingers to close around her harder. “Mitsuri…” he murmured in adoration, watching intently as her face came to life. Her mouth opened, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, sticking his tongue inside as he did so.

At the same time, his hand was moving like it knew what it was doing. Her back arched in appreciation against his hand and he felt her nipple harden under his palm. Obanai relished at how soft yet firm she was. The clothing separating him from her skin was a nuisance but that did not diminish the feeling of her. He’d never felt anything like it.

“More,” she mewled against his lips when they broke their kiss, “touch me more.”

“Where?” he panted.

Mitsuri stared into his eyes, loving the way they’d darkened with his desire. Desire FOR HER. “Here,” she whispered, continuing to watch him even as he pulled back slightly and she opened her legs wider. Her heart thrummed wildly when those eccentric eyes of his followed her movements and widened in surprise. Her skirt was pushed up around her hips, giving Obanai an unobstructed view of all of her.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

Wait what's the thing about gold elves killing eilistraee followers as big eilistraee simp i never heard of this. What do I have to blame Corellon "Known Bitch" Larenthian with now?

...oh boy. I don't have the most time today, but I can always rattle off elven lore. idk why, I just got obsessed in the rabbit hole for a year for some reason, despite not being my favorite.

Ok, are you familiar with the evermeet debacle? Gold elves decided to make a new elf-only land by ripping out a chunk of heaven itself and throwing into the sea? Dark elves mentioned basic water displacement exists, and how every time gold elves try high magic it goes wrong and even wipes out entire elven species? Got banned for eternity even after being proven right, basically for insinuating that a Gold Elf plan is capable of fault. Well after everyone rebuilt from the widespread slaughter of most life on continents worth of coast, thier arrogance boiled over and the main gold elf nation tried to subjugate all other elves. Starting with the country which was Eilistraee's capital of worship. That was the start of the Dark Elf decent, as the country on the other side of the coast started fighting thier way through every nation between the two, using worse and worse means in a desparate attempt to get to dark/green elf nation they'd subjugated. Starting with fire, eventually leading to demons and undead. but. Um. Gold elves got sick of 3000 years of failed subjugation I guess, because they made a magical eternal nuke that wiped it off the face of the planet. Specifically with high magic, which comes through Corelleon and he has sole control over, able to just turn it off at any time. note that it took drow high mages running in and having to manually turn it off, even if Corellon somehow didn't register it happening he still had to approve for it to keep going endlessly. Remember, this nation that was vaporized was Eilistraee's place. The prime dark elf nation realized this was now a war for survival, went full feral cornered animal, and the other elves turned the dark elves into drow. Corellon even barred them from the afterlife, took away much of thier elven powers and cut them off from his love. like, for all elves and nations, even those in other planes or completely uninvolved. If you wonder why Lolth even has power, it's because when they made thier descent there was just her, a god of hedonism, and the slime god. Eilistraee had lost most of her influence because all her worshippers had been vaporized. The gold elves had destroyed all influences of good, so lolth had free reign. I made an unhinged video on it after like a year of reading up on every elf I could find and trying to boil the script down. not the most proud of it since I was barely conscious by the end of editing so there's weird pauses between some lines, and...holy shit looking back I forgot subtitles. I'll need to add those when I have a moment. but if you're interested in the full story. 13:05 for the war, 14:35 for the dark elf part. Or the whole thing if you want to hear a listing of all elves, as I learn that I'm not actually biased against them like I thought, just specifically against the Gold elves and Shadar-Kai. And the lythari, but I don't actually have anything against them, I just think the insistence that they aren't lycanthropes is a bit dumb.

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain Part 2: Age of the Empire"

Chapter 34

"Eyes of Pain"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Another chapter is here, my dears!! One I've been anticipating for a little while now, I'll admit 😅😁 Hope y'all enjoy!

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @legolkenxbi , @tech-aficionado ,

@ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettrose9901 ,

@thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink ,

@l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49 , @avathebestx ,

@idoubleswearimawriter , @techs-stitches , @fantasyproductions , @totallyunidentified , @dreamsandrosies

《 Chapter 33

》 Chapter 35

All chapters (Part 2) (Part 1)

Explanation: Crosshair now stands between Kimber and her chance to warn the others that they're about to walk into a trap. Will she be able to reach them in time or will Crosshair hinder her escape as well as their whole rescue operation?

Suddenly seeing Crosshair in front of her, Kimber practically leapt back a couple of feet away from him. Just as she raised her rifle, he was quicker to lift his and shot her rifle out of her hands, sending it clattering to the floor a couple feet away. She instinctively reached for one of her blasters on her hip, but he now had his rifle pointed right at her, so she didn't dare grab it lest he kill her right then and there. It was a good thing she had her helmet on or else he would've felt a heat that rivaled the twin suns of her homeworld from the glare she was giving him.

“You,” he growled just after he closed the office door.

She let out a groan. “And here I was hoping it would be a long time before I saw you again,” she complained.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned.

“That's none of your concern,” she sternly said back.

He took a step forward and she took a step back, watching him closely.

“I see you're helping in the Imperial subjugation here. Can't say I'm surprised,” she taunted him.

He responded, “We are putting down an insurgency here on Ryloth."

Kimber scoffed in unbelief. “Insurgency? They're just Twi'leks defending their home from an unjust Imperial occupation! How can you look at any of this and think what you're doing is right?”

His head shook. “You're just like Hunter...still can't see the bigger picture.”

Her hands curled up into fists at her sides. “And you can?” she shot back. “You may have enhanced sight, but you're still blind to what you've gotten yourself into, Crosshair.”

Crosshair remained silent, keeping his rifle aimed at her steady.

“Was any of this worth betraying and leaving your family over? Was it worth betraying me?” Kimber demanded.

“I simply found a new purpose that you all failed to understand,” he said in reply.

“And how's that been working out for you?” she asked sharply.

He said nothing, but she saw his helmet rear back slightly.

If he wasn't going to give her an answer, then she saw no further point in continuing this conversation. “I don't have time for this. Now, get out of my way,” she told him, moving towards him.

She got two steps when he raised his rifle up more at her. “I can't let you leave,” he said.

“Or what? You going to shoot me again?” she questioned.

Once again, he said nothing.

Kimber smirked to herself. Calling back to when he shot her on Kamino seemed to get to him. Despite not trusting him, there was just a tiny feeling deep down in her gut that told her he wouldn't shoot her this time. Maybe she could use this to her advantage.

“Then fine,” she said, pulling off her helmet and dropping it to the floor so he could see her face as well as the pain and anger in her eyes. Then she held her arms out almost as an invitation. “Go ahead, take your shot. It'll hurt far less than the knife you drove into my back last time.”

Crosshair was stunned to hear Kimber tell him to shoot her. He didn't move and didn't say anything in return.

Her tone then grew harsher, more than he could recall ever hearing from her. “If you're going to shoot me, then take off your helmet. I want to see you look me in the eyes when you pull that trigger.”

Her daring challenge caught him even more off guard. The Imperial soldier in him was telling him to take advantage of this opportunity; to shoot her and put an end to her threats to the Empire or at least arrest her…but something he couldn't explain was stopping him. This was Kimber, his sister, standing in front of him. Despite what he knew he needed to do, he couldn't shoot her. Not like this.

His aim at her faltered and his rifle started to lower down…which gave Kimber a chance to act.

She lunged forward and grabbed his rifle with both hands, attempting to pull it away. Though, Crosshair caught on the minute she grabbed it and his hold on his weapon tightened as they both tried to wrestle the rifle away from each other, pulling and grunting. Then he gave a hard pull towards him and spun her around, slamming her back against the office door and pressing the rifle across her chest and neck. She tried pushing it away, but he was stronger. She redirected her focus and kicked him in the thigh, eliciting a cry from him and his grip on the rifle slackened. Kimber then pulled the rifle out of Crosshair's hands and threw it away before sending another kick into his stomach, making him stagger a few steps back. With him off of her, now she was ready to just unleash hell on him in her anger. With a cry of fury, she moved up and threw a punch at him, but he blocked her oncoming attack. Her arms were practically flying at him over and over, but he blocked and pushed away each of her punches. At one point, he ducked under her arm and moved himself behind her. Then he grabbed her wrists and pushed her backwards until her legs met the desk in the room and she fell back onto it, a slight cry of pain sounding from her as the back of her head slammed down. He pinned her arms up by her head, holding her down.

“Stop this. We don't need to fight,” he said as he stood above her.

“You chose this when you decided to betray my trust on Bracca,” she spat back. Then, in her rage, she threw her head forward and smacked it into his helmet, disorienting him enough that he loosened his grip on her wrists and she punched him in the side of the head. He stumbled away from the hit and she rolled off the desk, picking up her sniper rifle from the floor and aiming it at him.

He then spoke up as he turned around to face her, “I had no choice. I needed some way to find you.”

“So you could try and kill us again?” she questioned.

“No.”

That wasn't the reply she thought she would hear and she was taken aback. Nevertheless, she kept her guard up and her rifle at the ready. He then shocked her even more by holding up his hands and taking a step forward before slowly crouching down and picking up her helmet. As he came back up, he tossed it over to her. She let go of the front of her rifle and caught her helmet with her left hand, still keeping her eyes on him. What game was he trying to play?

“I just want to talk,” he stated.

“I don't believe you,” she replied.

Crosshair's hand reached across his helmet and he pulled it off, revealing his face. His silver hair was all gone, proving Kimber hadn't been seeing things when she saw him with a bald head before. Her heart twisted inside her as she noticed the right side of his head, which was now grotesquely disfigured with a red burn scar. It looked painful and she almost felt sorry for him for a split second, wondering how that happened. Did he get his injury back on Bracca or during another mission since then? What was more heartbreaking than seeing that he'd been hurt was just seeing his face again in person, which she hadn't seen since Kamino. There was pain in his eyes and his expression, but she wasn't sure where the pain was coming from. Was it from seeing her again or the wound on his head? Or was it something else; something deeper? She wanted to know, but then remembered that it didn't matter. He had betrayed her and her squad and didn't deserve her sympathy.

His gaze set intently on her, he implored, “If you would only join the Empire, there would be no need for you to keep hiding. You and I can fight together again just as we once did, Kimber.”

She inhaled sharply and turned away. Hearing her name from him now no longer held the same meaning it used to. Now, it just hurt and it hurt even more that he was once again trying to appeal to her and the bond they once had to convince her to join the Empire with him. Why did he keep doing this to her?

“You tried this on me before and it didn’t work, remember? I'd rather die than join the Empire,” she responded.

“Keep opposing them and you will die,” he said back. He slowly moved towards her and she moved back with every step he took. “Aren't you tired of constantly looking over your shoulder, worrying about being caught? Aren't you tired of running?” he asked, his voice oddly calm.

Kimber closed her eyes and shook her head, her jaw clenched tightly as she kept inching back away. He knew what he was doing with those questions, but she wasn't going to listen to him. She wouldn't let him manipulate her again.

“That can all end if you'd just reconsider. Then everything can go back to the way it was before,” he continued to plead as he came around the desk.

Having heard enough, she cried out, “No, I won't let you trick me again! Things can never go back to the way they were. Not anymore.”

Just then, she got close to the balcony doors and their proximity sensors activated, opening the doors. She peered over her shoulder and saw the soldiers down below were nearly ready to take position outside the other tower. She was running out of time. She needed to get to Hunter and Echo. First, she needed a way out of this tower. Crosshair stood between her and the exit of the office…which left the balcony as her only option.

She then heard Crosshair say, “You're making a mistake.”

Kimber turned back and faced him steadfastly. Then she stated in a firm voice, “The boys and I may be living on the run, but at least we all have each other. But you? You have no one. No real squad, no family. As long as you stay with the Empire...you'll always be alone…and maybe that’s what you deserve.” Then she placed her helmet back on her head. “Enjoy being a solitary Clone, Crosshair.”

Then she turned to book it for the balcony.

“No!” Crosshair cried.

Kimber pulled a hook from one of her pouches and launched herself over the railing, sliding the hook onto the edge as she did so. Then she whipped around and slid down the cable on her belt, swinging back towards the wall of the tower. Unfortunately, her momentum was bringing her in fast, so she slammed hard into the wall, drawing a grunt of pain from her upon impact. She was only a few feet above the ground and she detached from her cable, dropping to the ground. The soldiers in the square heard her and saw her and a few of them raised their weapons to fire as she darted for the side entrance.

“Commander, we've spotted one of them,” one of the troopers said over comms.

“Hold your fire,” they heard their Commander respond.

“Sir?” another asked.

“Forget her and maintain your position. She'll regroup with the others. There is only one way out for them…and then we will capture all of them.”

Kimber had half-expected the troopers on the ground to start shooting at her, but strangely, they didn't and she'd been able to duck inside the side entrance, shutting the door behind her. She was unsure if she'd be followed or not, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out. Once she was secure, she took off running down the hall.

She kept going until she came around a corner and saw movement in front of her. She almost raised her rifle, but saw it was the trooper with the teal-accented armor she'd seen earlier coming towards her.

When he spotted her, he stopped. “They're heading into a trap,” he stated, his voice clearly a Clone's like she suspected.

At first, she wondered how he knew or why he was helping her, but in the moment, it didn't matter. “I know. I'm trying to find them,” she responded.

“I'll help you. Follow me,” he told her and he took off running, Kimber tailing behind him.

She followed him into what looked like the base entrance to the tower and he informed her, “This is their only way out. We'll intercept them here.”

They both then heard incoming footsteps and Kimber told the Clone to take cover in case it was more Imperial soldiers. They ducked behind a wall near the back just as the side door opened. Kimber peeked around the corner and was relieved to see a group of six Twi'leks as well as Hunter and Echo carefully walking into the room.

“Cham, wait!” the Clone Captain called out, revealing his presence to the group.

Hunter and Echo, who were positioned in front of the Twi’leks, both pointed their weapons at the Captain upon suddenly hearing him.

“You're walking into a trap,” he said.

Then Kimber came out and added, “It's true.”

“Kimber? What are you doing here?” Hunter asked her.

“They jammed our comms, so I got over here as quickly as I could to warn you. He saw it, too,” she said, taking off her helmet and gesturing to the Clone.

The Captain removed his helmet, too, as he told the whole group, “There's a squad out there waiting.”

Kimber took in his appearance. Lately, all the regs they'd encountered since Order 66 all had the same looks, but this one had a different look. He had his dark hair buzzed on the sides and it was a bit spiked on top and then he had scars on his chin and cheek. It was refreshing to meet another Clone still with a sense of individuality.

“Why would we trust you?” the Twi'lek they'd met before named Gobi suspiciously questioned the Clone.

Looking at him, the Clone responded with, “Because I'm on your side.”

“He is on our side. He helped me. You have to believe him,” Kimber encouraged the others.

Moving closer to Hunter and Echo, who were staying silent, the Captain said to them, “What the Empire is doing is wrong. You have to get out of here. They have the exits blocked.”

“We can use Senator Taa's shuttle in his private tower hangar,” a green female Twi'lek suggested; one Kimber thought looked quite a bit like Hera and assumed that she must be Hera's mother.

The Clone Captain approached an orange male Twi'lek and said in a low voice of regret, “I'm sorry, General. I should've stopped this sooner.”

The Twi'lek, whom Kimber now realized was Cham Syndulla, laid a hand on the Clone's shoulder and reassured him, “Our fight for Ryloth is not over. We will return.”

Kimber came up beside the Captain and said to him, “You can't stay here, Captain. They'll know you helped with our escape. Come with us.”

He shook his head and said in reply, “I will not abandon my squad. They're good men. I have to try to get through to them.”

There was sorrow in his face and his eyes at the thought of having to face his own troopers outside and she felt sorry for him. He seemed like a good man, just like all the other Clones she'd met, and she wished he would come with them. She could see a great ally in him, but she also understood his brave decision.

The Clone looked back to Cham and urged him, “Go, while there's still time.”

With a final nod, Cham led the Twi'leks back through the side door. Echo and Hunter followed in the rear. Kimber got to the door, but then stopped and turned back. There was one thing she needed to know before they left the Clone behind.

“Wait!” she cried out to the Captain. When he looked her way, she asked him, “What is your name?”

With a small smile, he answered, “Howzer.”

She offered a kind smile back. “Kimber,” she said in return, placing a hand on her chest. “Thank you, Howzer.”

Howzer said nothing and just gave her a bow of his head before donning his helmet and turning back to face the door. Kimber felt her heart sink slightly as she ran after the others.

As they went, Hunter sent word over comms to Tech and Omega that they’d gotten alternate transport and told them to meet at the rendezvous. Hunter, Echo and Kimber followed the Twi’leks through the corridors to a nearby hangar tower where a singular private shuttle was docked in the upper level. Cham ran in first and took over the pilot’s seat while everyone else filed into the shuttle. Kimber, Echo and Hunter all sat in the back and removed their helmets as they sat down.

“Are you boys all right?” Kimber asked them.

“Are you kidding? This was one of the easiest extractions we’ve done,” Echo answered nonchalantly.

“Good,” said Kimber.

Hunter then looked at her and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she responded.

She then noticed Hunter’s head turned slightly and then he fully turned around to look out the window of the shuttle, keeping his eyes on the Capitol slowly fading in the distance. Watching him closely, she saw his expression soften just a little before his eyebrows furrowed. Then he looked at her, his face etched with conflicted emotions. Kimber could tell right away what that meant: he had sensed Crosshair down there. Her confrontation with Crosshair was something she wanted to tell Hunter about right then, but she decided she would wait and tell the whole squad at once. She didn’t want to keep secrets from them anymore, especially regarding their brother. That and she didn’t feel it was something she wanted to bring up in front of the Twi’leks since it was the squad’s private business. Once the Twi’leks and Hera’s parents were secure, then Kimber would tell her squad what happened.

They met up with the rest of the squad in a hangar near the outskirts of the city. When they arrived, they saw Wrecker, Omega and Hera gathered around Tech, who was showing the girls something on his datapad. Once the shuttle landed, most of the Twi’leks got off and told Cham they’d be in contact before running off. Cham and his wife, Eleni, remained behind. A few minutes later, Cham and Eleni came out of the shuttle and both Hunter and Kimber went up to them.

Eleni held out a case to them, saying, “Here is the payment Hera promised.”

“Keep it. You’ll need it,” Hunter said back, folding his arms across his chest.

With a nod of agreement, Kimber said in addition, “He’s right. These Imperial occupations aren’t just on Ryloth; they’re happening on other planets, too. You’ll need as many assets as you can get, including money.”

Pulling his wife close to him, Cham stated, “I hoped to have fought my last war, but our people need us now more than ever. We must organize.”

“Well, that’s not something we can help with, General. I have my own people to look out for,” said Hunter, turning back and glancing at the rest of his squad a couple feet away.

“We look out for them,” Kimber said back, taking his hand in hers.

Eleni smiled kindly at Kimber before saying, looking at her husband, “If a war is coming, it will be their fight as much as ours.” Then she called Hera over and the bright-eyed girl came running over to the ramp with Omega.

“Tech showed me how to scramble a ship’s signature,” Hera proudly declared.

“We’ll soon see how well it works,” replied her mother before telling her it was time for them to go.

Kimber and Hunter figured they’d give Omega a moment to say goodbye to Hera and walked back over to the others. When Kimber looked back at the girls, she could see Omega’s head hanging low.

“Poor Omega. She seemed to really like Hera,” she said. “She hasn’t met anyone close to her age since Cut and Suu’s children.”

“I’m sure she’ll see Hera again someday,” Echo said in reply.

“I sure hope so,” said Kimber.

Before they knew it, the Syndullas flew off in the Senator’s stolen shuttle. With that, it was another successful mission for the Bad Batch and they regrouped back in the Marauder, ready to leave Ryloth.

In the blue tunnel of hyperspace, Kimber had just helped Omega get to sleep in the gunner’s mount when she decided it was time to inform her boys of the incident that had occurred back on Ryloth.

“Guys…I saw Crosshair.”

She stood in the doorway to the cockpit while the other four were seated all in the chairs. All of them turned their chairs to face her upon hearing what she said.

“Well, yeah…we all saw him when we scouted the Capitol,” Wrecker replied, wondering why she was bringing that up.

“No…he found me in the other tower,” she said. Then she looked specifically between Hunter and Echo. “That’s why they jammed our comms and had a squad waiting outside; that was why I came to find you. It was Crosshair. He figured out our plan while everyone else went to the refinery. When I went to leave, he intercepted me.”

Hunter shot up from his chair, his face immediately full of concern. “Did he hurt you?” he urgently asked.

“I’m okay, really,” she reassured him.

“What happened?” asked Tech.

“He cornered me and wouldn’t let me leave, so I tried to fight my way out. Then he claimed he just…wanted to talk,” she explained.

Echo then stood up and came up beside Hunter. “What did he say to you?” he inquired.

Kimber just scoffed and shook her head. “He just tried to convince me to join the Empire...again. That was all.” When she looked at Hunter, he raised his eyebrows questioningly at her. “I promise, that’s all it was,” she said to assure him. “I wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. Not again.”

“How did you manage to escape?” was Tech’s next question.

She smirked. “Jumped from the balcony.”

That made the boys all grin themselves.

“Yeah, that’s our girl,” said Hunter proudly. Then he took her face gently in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally…it was still distressing confronting him, but if anything, it helped me get out some of my anger at him,” she answered.

“As long as you’re all right, that’s what matters,” said Wrecker.

She thanked him and then said she was going to get some rest, to which Hunter replied he would join her shortly and she did a good job on the mission. She made her way back to her and Hunter’s bunk and began to remove her armor.

The whole time, Kimber kept replaying her confrontation with Crosshair over and over in her mind. Something about seeing him this time felt so different from before. Last time on Bracca, he’d been so taunting, conniving and had been willing to resort to extreme methods, like activating an ion engine with them inside, in order to stop them because he viewed them all as traitors. This time on Ryloth…was practically the opposite. He had hesitated when she dared him to shoot her, he told her “we don’t have to fight” and when she questioned if he’d needed a way to find her to kill her and their squad, he’d said “no” and just wanted to talk. Still, he had tried to convince her again to join the Empire, but it seemed he was trying more of a diplomatic approach with her. For one, that wasn’t like him in any way, even before the Empire came into existence. He was usually the one to negotiate with his rifle before his words.

What had changed? Why was he suddenly calmer with her than before? It still didn’t change the fact that he remained loyal to the Empire and wanted her to be a part of it with him. No matter how much he tried to talk her into it, it was never going to work. Yet she had seen pain in his eyes when he looked at her. She’d wondered if it had been pain from his newly-acquired head injury, but there was a feeling deep inside her that wondered if it was something else. She knew what he looked like when he was in physical pain and this hadn’t seemed like that. No…it was something more than that. Was it hard for him seeing her, too? Or was he, in fact, miserable with the Empire and he wasn’t admitting it?

Did he miss them? Did he miss her?

Even though she knew she shouldn’t care nor did he deserve to occupy any space in her mind, she couldn’t help but reflect on everything that had happened with him. Something didn’t feel right and she couldn’t shake that feeling away. The small part of her that didn’t want to let him go; that didn’t want to give up on him kept telling her something had to be wrong, but what could she do? She had already tried to convince him to come back and everything had blown up in her face. If something was wrong and Crosshair wasn’t going to tell her, then there was nothing Kimber could do. Would she even want to if he wasn’t willing to change his ways?

This was all so overwhelming and she tried brushing it off, thinking maybe she was just imagining things…but the undeniable look she’d seen in his eyes that was now ingrained into her mind perhaps told her otherwise and she knew she’d be left endlessly wondering until she inevitably saw him again.

[randomthefox]

It's been about a month since your government assigned monster master moved in with you.

The whole thing was very scary at first. The Demon Lord Army invaded the city and took absolute power by force of arms, there was nothing anybody could do to resist. The first thing they did was lock down the city to ensure nobody could escape. Then a proclamation was made that humans were now property of the monsters who now ruled, and that an official census would be performed to document each and every citizen cross referenced against birth certificate records. Once the census was complete every single human would be personally assigned under an individual monsters ownership, but until then the entirety of the population was under de facto communal ownership of the invading army.

They were thorough, rooting out any small pockets of resistance and people trying to stay off the grid, and a full list of absolutely every inhabitant of the city was collected. In the meantime, the monsters repaired all the damage that was done by the invasion. Themselves. In fact when any humans offered to contribute, shop owners who wanted to have a hand in the repair of their own stores or construction workers for whom it was their normal job anyway, the monsters rejected them. They wouldn't allow anyone to lift a finger, and responded to anybody who tried by cooing at them and patting them on the head before going back to their labor.

For a while it felt like everybody was holding their breath, waiting for the whips and chains and subjugation and torture and neighbors and friends going missing. But it never came. The new monster population settled in pretty seamlessly, give or take the fact they were all technically homeless for the time being. They muscled their way into any and all blue collar work while all the tedium of office jobs were optimized by monster magic to invalidate any need for conscious input whatsoever, and higher education was very quickly dismantled because for monsters books and learnin' were a waste of time, relegating humans to service jobs if anything. Anyone who asked if they could go back to their regular employment was simply met with smug comments about how they weren't up to it and to bring out another round of drinks...

Finally another proclamation was made that the census was complete, and the Demon Lord would start personally assigning a monster from his hoard to every last man woman and child in the city. There was a knock at your door, and when you opened it he presumptuously barged his way inside before a proper introduction. He was your monster now, and you were his human, a status he was quite excited about based on the way he swept you up into his arms and carried you around the house while he got acclimated to his new residence. He would be staying with you from now on, you had no choice in the matter.

You had always lived alone so there was an adjustment period, as there would have been with any new roommate. There were complains about the layout of food in the fridge and cupboards. There were arguments over the bedroom arrangements. He left the toilet seat up. There was a choke of fear that gripped your throat whenever his gaze fell upon you. Aside from the fractures he left in the human sized doorframes whenever he entered a room, it was distressingly mundane.

Once the fear and anxiety of living day in and day out with a monster who had invaded your lands and robbed your entire species of its self determination had passed, the biggest issue came from daily boredom. You didn't have a job anymore, the monsters wouldn't allow you to work. And now that one was living with you personally, you were subjected to that patronizing dismissal every time the subject was brought up. Humans were too weak and pathetic and helpless, you couldn't be trusted to do anything of importance without messing it up, and besides that you might hurt yourself by pulling a muscle or stubbing your toe. You were treated as an incompetent invalid and as if you were made of glass and should shatter at any moment all at the same time. So there was little for you to do all day but bum around your house like a college drop out.

At least you could still stay in touch with your friends. And the stories they told of what life was like now that they had a monster living with them were the same as your own. For one of them, who still lived with their parents and siblings, the household sounded quite hectic since the amount of people living there had doubled over night. They told you that their youngest sibling had acclimated to the new normal the fastest, since they spent nearly all day playing with their monster running around the backyard in all manner of games - and it was something they had decided to take a lesson from. You had to admit the photos they had sent of game night looked rather fun, and the sight of a monster interacting with a Parker Brothers board was amusing in a surreal sort of way. Maybe it was worth a shot?

Your monster took to the suggestion with enthusiasm. Whether it was board games, video games, tabletop games, or even just playing hide and seek. They didn't reject any of it or treat it as beneath them. And it was something to do to fill the time in the day. From there offering other ways to spend time with him felt like a natural next step. Looking back it felt silly how nervously you asked if he'd want to go to the movies with you. And the trip to the theater was followed by a quiet walk back home taking the long way through the park. About halfway back you began to feel tired, and once he noticed he plucked you up and carried you the rest of the way back home. In arms that felt warm strong and protective, even if they were a tad possessive.

Before you knew it, and you didn't even realize the progression of it until it was too late, the time inbetween mutual amusements were spent sitting together with him on the couch. Nestled up against his much larger body, while he brushed his hands over you in a gentle soothing way. It was intimate. And it felt natural. He lived with you, spent so much time with you, made you feel safe and cared about and ensured all your physical needs were met, and showered you with affection. How insidious these monsters were. Rather than enslaving the human population they had overtaken with chains and shackles, they had simply imposed themselves as your masters and turned you all into pets.

And it felt nice.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I have finished reading the first volume of the war memoirs of Charles de Gaulle (The Call: 1939-1942).

As I have said before, I was pleasantly surprised by how easily it reads, and how interesting a storyteller De Gaulle is (specially when compared to Churchill's memoirs of the same period).

I went in looking for a different perspective of people and events I was familiar with from English speaking side of documentaries and narratives, but fully assuming I was going to arrive to a "the truth is in the middle" conclusion. So far, I have not, and that is surprising.

De Gaulle is often painted as a guy who identified with and cared for France and its reputation and GloryTM above everything else, and was therefore constantly putting the petty claims of France over the pressing needs of the war with the axis. What he presents is a Britain, and then to an even greater extent, a USA that is putting their petty dislike of him personally, their preconceived notions about France, and the economical and political greed of their governments above the pressing needs of the war with the axis.

And when one turns to Churchill's accounts of the same events, he either confirms De Gaulle's information, or keeps silence on it; he does not offer an alternative interpretation of events. Which is something I very much did not expect at all.

Both Roosevelt and Churchill are playing this game where they cannot really publicly reject De Gaulle and the Free French because their very concept is romantic and widely supported/accepted by the common people both in France and in the US/UK... but they don't like that they have their own agenda and are inflexible about things like French sovereignty. Their blind hope that somehow the US will be able to press Vichy into rejoining the war can only be reasonably explained by their thinking that France surrendered because the French are easily impressionable cowards: the same way they were subjugated by Germany, they could be subjugated by the US/UK and their resources used at leisure by them. The reality that De Gaulle, as a French man who had been in the French Army his whole life, saw in Vichy, was one of tiredness, defeatism, AND antisemitism fueled nazi sympathies. They didn't sign the armistice because they were weak, they signed the armistice because they wanted to not fight or not fight the nazis. History proved De Gaulle right. Vichy was not persuaded to rejoin the allies.

This attempt to appease and persuade Vichy explains the recruitment sabotage: you give De Gaulle 5 minutes on the BBC to talk and rally the French, but on the other hand you undermine his authority and ability to recruit. You attempt to turn him into a romantic, quixotic figure, useful to you but not to French interests.

The documentaries tell you of all the French soldiers that were rescued at Dunkirk, but they don't tell you that the Free French were sometimes prevented from ever interacting with them, and sometimes, when allowed, British officers would then afterwards impress upon French soldiers that if they joined the Free French they would be betraying the authorities of their country and subjected to court martial if the enterprise failed; that most of them were sent back to France. They don't tell you of the times the UK allowed ships deporting degaullists from the French colonies to the metropoli to pass, and therefore weakening De Gaulle's chances of taking those colonies over -because they had an eye on taking at least part of those for the UK. Or how when they did try to take over, they stopped the Free French from recruiting between French forces, took the armament and resources left behind for themselves, and also took over native battallions and absorbed them into the British armed forces. Suddenly the "this cute, endearing figure who only managed to command about 70.000 men" narrative turns into "this man managed to recruit about 70.000 men despite being on exile, his country being half occupied half ruled by colaborationists that had put a price to his head, and his allies constantly sabotaging him. He also managed to take over several colonies, organize the scattered resistance on French soil, and put the Free French on every front of the war."

So. Hm. Yeah. I went in expecting to better understand the conflicts between Churchill and De Gaulle, FDR and De Gaulle as a matter of "both sides had reasonable and unreasonable reasons" and so far I think by the end I will come around to think De Gaulle was actually the less petty and most honest of the three. Stay tuned XD

[lisamasvida]

Clean Drinking Water Is A Limited Resource The Rich Are Hogging!!!!

Before we talk about clean drinking water lets talk about “The Lorax” whenever I watch this movie with freinds or family everyone talks about the Once-ler, we all know that he represents greed and unsustainibilty. I want to focus on Mr. Aloysius O’Hare (Going forward I shall call him Mr. O)

The Once-ler was bad no doubt but he wasnt evil, he was greedy but he wasnt insatiable. The Once-ler to me represents the everyday American that believes Capitalism will save them. He lived the American dream and life handed him his butt. The worst thing the Once-ler did was open the door for Mr. O.

Mr. O saw an issue that people didnt have access to clean air or trees. He saw a gap in the market and filled it. He got a taste of money and power and was out to destroy anyone who stood in his way. Even if it meant murder because he couldnt have people bringing in trees that would cut into his bottom line. He was a hero he brought clean air. He was beloved even if he could care less about the people he was profiting from. The only thing meaner than him was his BOB (capital because she deserves the respect). He literally trapped people in town and trapped them into capitalism. He remade their reality

Then you have the indifferent and therefore complicit everyday citizens. They let following the Thneed trend end in their subjugation. They were happy to they didnt have a thought in their pretty little heads. They just accepted their situation. There was some time lapse in the movie right. So one generation allowed the Trees to be cut for a temporary trend and the next generations suffered from it. To the point where the kids didnt even know what a tree was. 3 generations of indifference, 3 generations of no questions, 3 generations of allowing 2 people to decide what was best for all. If Ted never came into the picture how long do you think Mr. O would have ruled and charged for clean air. 1 singular person monopolized clean air for atleast 2 generations and would have done so until he died and the people would have allowed it. Which is why

“Unless a person like you cares a whole whole lot, its not going to get better its not”

Is such a eye opening call to action. The government backed by billionaires has told us already we dont have a right to education, food, shelter, clothing, safety, devt free medical care and now water.

Clean Drinking water straight from the earth took millions of years to filter in underground wells called aquifers.

So lets start with the water cycle the water is heated by the sun and water vapor rises to the air, clouds are formed, precipitation falls all over the earth. While some water goes back into bodies of water. The water that falls to the ground is filtered through dirt and sediment till it gets to the underground aquafirs.

We used to use wells to pump it our of the earth and mostly use it for our daily needs. BUT NOWWW…. We got ChatGPT and other AI Hardware that needs to be cooled using our drinking water, corprate bottled water companies, corprate farms think the cuties company. These people OWN water sources. These people are BUYING PUBLIC WATER SUPPLIES! To the point people who live around these locations CANNOT get access to clean drinking water.

They are pumping BILLIONS of gallons from the earth. The aquifers built up over millions of years and are being drained even faster.

The average american uses 300gal of water a day.

Chat GPT uses 39.16 million gallons of water A DAY

Water companies pump 84 BILLION GALLONS A DAY

I couldnt find exact numbers on corprate farming but i could find an article on water rights and their destruction of family farms.

https://foodprint.org/blog/consolidation-farms-water/

All this brings me to one point. They are taking water for profit we could livd on for years, Billionaires will be okay regardless because heres what they will do. Create a crisis we could actually have not had then swoop in and save us from it.

People have to alternate days to use their own water they pay for, articles are coming out all the time on how we could shower less, or not let our water run to save water, people in Flint dont have access to clean drinking water bc their officials stole that from them in favor of personal gain, threatened to take children from the home if they didnt pay for water they cannot use, then said off color funky ass water was safe to drink.

Our Billionaire raised President (because idk what tf is actually in his account the way rumors surround him) is loosening FDA restrictions everyday. They tell us the issue was fluoride in the water. But i can bet your bottom dollar when the situation gets bad enough we will be boiling shit water.

I want to bring you into my guess for the future. Tap water will need to be boiled and purified using chemicals from some company, we wont be able to catch our own water because it cuts into the bottom line of bottled water companies that are charging 20$ a case, then 25, then 35, then 50. And if we cant afford it we will die. If we dont pay for the dirty tap then our children will be stolen. And we will go along with it, our children will go along with it, their children will go along with it.

The billionaires will still be ok. They will still be billionaires, their children will be billionaires and their lives will be as its always been.

Capitalism will end us all…

[parasafterdark]

"Truth (arguably)"

Part 3/5 // 1 2 4 5

Context: This happened recently in Hunting Grounds where they are all furries and stuck in a Deathgame Scenario. I'm skipping the HG![Name] cause it drives me insane in longer Text.

This is part of Game 5, which is a companion of Game 4 with the same Set of Players.

CW // implied prior and ongoing abuse

---

Ignoring the helpful hand, Shal rushed straight into the room and almost tripped over the table. On pure reflex ey managed to adjust, step on the plate and continue to the wall opposite the door. Pretending this was entirely planned, ey turned to lean eys back at the wall, sliding down into a crouch, tail curled around eys feet. Eys shirt was...somewhere. Not here. Not important.

Cold fake wood, in a fake room on an unfortunately real ship, watching the Raccoons fake smile as he sat down at the table.

"I'm not going to touch you. Don't worry!"

Shal could not supress a snarl, but did manage to stay quiet otherwise. While waiting for the coinflip animation to decide who got to ask first, ey rested one hand at the back of eys neck.

"Player 1, ask a Question."

"Why are we here?", the Marten tried to keep eys voice stable, to hide how much eys throat hurt. "We...", with the free hand ey gestured between them: "...should not be in here. We should be over there..." Pointing in the direction of the Dare room: "...where you beat me in...something."

It was pathetic enough that the Newbie Brigade had conviced everyone to not force Shal into doing Dares. Having 81 play into this for fake sympathy just made it worse. Or it was just the constant Nausea and subsequent Exhaustion gnawing at Shal's patience. Likely both.

"This whole...shtick of yours: That you 'regret what happened'. That you've 'seen the errors of your ways'...'starting over fresh'..." Ey trailed off, just gestured at the Raccoon as a whole.

It's not that Shal had anything truly substantial to base eys opinion on. Just that 81 had lied since they all met, managed to subjugate everyone for a while and pivoted into a redemption ark as soon as it was clear they would live through another game together.

"I don't care. So why are we here?"

The Raccoon took a moment before answering. Arms open, smile never faltering: "I understand your apprehension. I got carried away and you got hurt." He quickly added: "Everybody got hurt!" Ignoring the Marten's chuckle, he gestured at the door behind him and continued: "I am thankful, to 18 and everyone for giving me a second chance despite...you know."

Shal dreaded the thought that the other players were really falling for this. Ideally ey could pay enough attention and energy to counteract whatever this was the setup for. Alas ey had a more pressing thing to worry about lately.

"Why I brought you here..." Oh right, this was still going. "...is that I figured: How else to proof my sincerity than through 'Truth'" Ending his speech, the Raccoon folded his hands in his lap.

"Please wait."

"Player 1, do you believe this answer to be true."

"Oh, I truly believe that this is what you want me to believe.", Shal said, chuckling again as 81's smile soured for a second. "Go on, ask what you wanna know."

"Truth confirmed. Player 2, ask a Question."

Despite not quite getting the reaction he wanted, 81 kept up the pace: "You and 45...Looking back at it, I've been wondering how true your relationship is?"

Shal groaned and looked up at the ceiling. This was the other reason the two of them should not be in this room. Because of fucking course the raccoon would ask and there were entirely too many ways to answer.

Admitting now that it had all been a lie taken entirely too far would likely turn everyone against em. Pretending that it was all true would instead make em even more reliant on the Koi continuing this charade. Threading the needle between either of those options risked both outcomes as well as relied on accurately predicting whatever the organizers would put up as 'Proof'.

Hidden under the fur, ey idly brushed over the bruises the Koi had left on eys neck right before the Marten got called into this SubGame. In the end, guessing xyr reaction to whatever answer Shal gave was kind of crucial.

"Player 2, please answer."

Good to know the friendly announcer was as annoying about answering questions as much as it was about asking them.

Oh well, if ey was on thin ice anyway, then why not jump?

"It started as a joke.", Shal said with a sigh, eyes still fixed at the ceiling: "Well...we have history and I thought it entertaining enough for the game's goal. And it worked." So so many hours added to the game they didn't yet know they'd come to regret in this follow up.

Finally Shal looked down, fixed eys gaze on the raccon who listened intently. "Then you happened. Playing the 'Lovers' against each other to take over. Attacking me to keep a leash on xym." The marten took a beat, conjured up the softest half smile ey could right now: "Turns out I'm not immune to heroics."

Entirely untrue. That had been the exact moment Shal had expected this story to end. Instead the Koi had turned the tables and trapped em right back into this lie.

Before continuing ey looked past 81, at the door behind him. Wondered if the Koi was even seeing any of this or was still in Shal's room. Recovering from...

"It's weird to know people here.", Shal spoke slowly, trying to navigate a safe path through: "You get to know things that would take years to unearth outside. Makes it all more intense, you know?"

Ey clasped eys hands together and looked back at the Raccoons face: "I am sure of my feelings for xym." Fully omitting what those feelings actually were, instead follwing up with bait: "If xe is the same....I don't know." Pointing at the door. "Guess we'll find out together."

The silence felt too long as 81 puzzled through the implications. Thankfully arrived at the intended conclusion: "You haven't told xym?"

With a grimace, ey shook eys head: "What for? There is no guarantee they are gonna put us into more games together after this." Oh wait fuck, they are gonna put them into more games together, won't they?

The marten buried eys face in eys hands, massaging around eys eyes and snout. Pretending the shivers racing through eys fur were sudden nausea instead of fear.

"Please wait."

"Player 2, do you believe the answer to be true?"

There should be enough footage to "prove" eys statement. Then again there was probably an equal amount to disprove it too. Having your life in the hand of people you'll never meet really sucked.

Instead of going through that, the Raccoon answered with a benevolent smile: "I do!"

Somehow Shal managed to bite back the urge to call him the dumbest Person alive on this ship.

[prairiesongserial]

23.10

John watched Percy comb through the dense text, looking for mention of ‘Isaac.’ The boy had admirable focus. Soon the students broke away for dinner, leaving Percy the only one still at work. Even Cassidy had gone to eat with the students.

The sound of Percy turning the thin pages was as steady as the beat of a song. Thirty minutes later, Cassidy reappeared with food for all of them; Percy’s focus didn’t break from the page, even as he pulled apart bread and stuffed pieces into his mouth.

“Menashe, pass me an apple slice,” Cassidy said.

“Huh?” was Percy’s delayed response.

“Pass me an apple slice.”

“They’re closer to you, though,” Percy said, confused.

“What bad manners. Aren’t you supposed to be a prince?”

Percy swallowed back whatever rude answer came to mind. He turned away from the book for just long enough to lean across the table, pick up an apple slice, and put it on Cassidy’s plate. In that second of distraction, Cassidy flipped forward in the book without Percy noticing. When Percy settled back down over the page, still pulling a face, he didn’t seem to notice the change.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” he said. “Here is an ‘Isaac’--I suppose this is the binding business.”

Gawain also became momentarily excited, before he realized that it was just more reading. He settled back next to John, leaning against his side. The warm weight reminded John of H.D., the German Shepherd from the circus.

“I’m bored,” Gawain sighed. “Can’t we play something?”

“No,” said John.

Gawain wilted forward until his forehead was down on the table.

“Well, that is curious,” said Percy. “I really have no idea what any of this has to do with the new year. Mr. John, shall I read it to you?” John nodded, and he did. It was a disturbing story. God told a man to take his son up a mountain and kill him. The man almost did. An angel told him never mind, so he stopped.

“I’m having a blasted time with this question,” Percy said once he’d finished reciting. “What do you think?”

John thought the man in the story shouldn’t listen to strange voices. Gawain had dozed off against his side. When John had been a little younger than him, someone had sold him into an indenture, but at least they’d only done it because they were going to starve.

John shrugged.

“It’s a bit sloppy,” Percy sighed, “an angel intervening to give the opposite order. I’m inclined to think Abraham wasn’t supposed to listen to the voice of God at the beginning. Or is he meant to listen every time on faith that subsequent orders will clarify or contradict the former? God, what a puzzle.”

“Was he supposed to have done the right thing?” John asked.

Across the table from him, Cassidy’s face broke into a grin.

“Allegorical tales ought to explain themselves,” Percy complained. “I suppose the difficulty is meant to be the point. This whole tower is a monument to the virtue of debate and study; room for interpretation requires one to grapple with the philosophy.”

Percy struggled for a while longer. Nearly two hours had gone by before he felt confident enough to give his answer to Moshe.

“Here is what I think,” Percy announced, hands folded behind his back. Cassidy translated for him. “This particular passage is read at the yearly coronation of God–a moment at which one reasonably is meant to assert the absolute subjugation of humanity to higher authority–as a cautionary tale against locking onesself in a tower.”

Cassidy faltered in their translation, and spoke hastily in order to catch up. Percy continued:

“Abraham’s unquestioning devotion to God as king leads him to the brink of catastrophe–killing one’s own child is the most heartless crime one can commit. What sort of subject nods agreeably to his king and raises the knife to slaughter his child? Not a subject, but a slave. Not a proper human being, either, but a detached scholar, whose favorite child is theology.” Percy took a breath. “Therefore, I suggest that this tale is read at the new year as a caveat to the coronation; God is king, but a human being ought to revolt here and there.”

Moshe smiled slightly when Percy had finished.

“No outside citations?” he asked.

Percy continued to stand with his arms formally behind his back.

“I plead illiteracy,” he said. “Apologies for the home-grown philosophy.”

Moshe nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “Pass.”

The exam had attracted a small crowd of students who wanted to delay going back to their studies after dinner. They made an uproar as Moshe took out the key to let Percy, Gawain, Cassidy, and John up to the next floor. Gawain had slept through Percy’s speech; carefully, John lifted him from the bench and carried him to the door. 

Cassidy said something to Moshe that had the boy pushing them bodily through the open door. Percy followed after, then John with Gawain.

“You did great,” Cassidy said, ruffling Percy’s hair as they climbed the steps. “A man after my own heart; I have a midrash you should read, it’s a great piece that puts Hagar in contrast with Abraham…”

The following floors took all night. After the initial surprise of the first two floor masters, the others had apparently gotten organized. John didn’t like their common decision. Each floor insisted that Percy had to test for all of them rather than Cassidy. It didn’t make much sense to John. Cassidy explained that the kids would probably all be in trouble with the rabbi later, but since Percy had managed to pass the second floor as a non-Jew without any background in the language or philosophy, now the other floor masters were curious to see how far he’d make it.

“If Percy is allowed to represent all of us, you should be, too.”

“Yes,” Cassidy said. They talked over Percy’s bent head. It was nearly midnight, and he was studying the Tanakh yet again. “You weren’t privy to all the nasty things I’ve been saying about these brats’ mothers, but they won’t budge. We could sneak up through the back stair, obviously, but I don’t like that idea, even as a last resort. Some things shouldn’t be violated.”

John was almost too tired to recognize the fleeting scrap of sincerity, but he did catch it before it was buried under more bullshit. Cassidy chattered on, Gawain slept on, and Percy studied on.

Percy had to give up on the seventh floor. The floor master failed him twice, he burst into hysterical laughter, and he stalked off into the bookshelves. John carried Gawain over to check on him, and found Percy asleep on the floor. That settled it. John lay Gawain down next to his brother and went back over to Cassidy.

“Asleep,” John said.

“Good idea,” Cassidy said. They groaned as they got up from the bench, their back popping. “I’ll ask around for some blankets, go ahead and join them.”

“Adults and children should sleep separately,” John said.

“Sure, in ideal circumstances, when the moon is full, no one wants children underfoot,” Cassidy said. “But John, I thought you’d turned me down.”

It was nearing four in the morning and John’s patience had frayed to nothing. Without acknowledging Cassidy had said anything, John set himself up in the middle of the study area, behind the table where Percy’s books were still sitting open. There was an armchair and ottoman, which he claimed. Cassidy wandered off, and returned a few minutes later with their arms full of bedding. John closed his eyes.

John opened his eyes at the sound of Cassidy sitting down on the floor beside him. There was another chair on the other side of the room they could have used. John was suddenly plenty awake. He sat upright.

“Oh, you’re still up,” Cassidy said. They stretched with their arms over their head, catlike. “You know…I really can’t pin you down. You like to wave a knife around, you don’t like jokes, you don’t like stories, but you love kids. Is it all kids, or just these ones?” John’s horror must have been written on his face, because they said, “Ooh, that’s a scary look. Really, though. I didn’t think you were ever gonna put Gawain down. Do you have kids running around somewhere? Give me something, John, one personal detail.”

John grit his teeth. He lay back in the chair and turned his face away. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with Cassidy there. He’d be listening out all night. Annoying.

“I’m surprised you’re letting them out of your sight. You’re so protective. You and Gawain are two matching knights-errant.”

“I am protecting them,” John said. They were safe here. He was protecting Percy and Gawain from the uncertainty he’d felt a hundred times when the older boys working temporarily during the harvest sat next to him or followed him to the stream. Why make the boys wonder when they could be sure?

“Cause you love kids.”

“I don’t,” John said. “They have nothing to do with me.”

“Please, John, let me find something cute about you.”

John turned his head back to look at them.

“I liked Percy’s answer. On the second floor,” he said. “I wouldn’t have answered like that.”

“Yeah?” said Cassidy.

“He has faith in people,” John said.

“So, how would you have answered? Binding of Isaac and Rosh Hashanah, what’s the link?”

“The angel comes down and stops him,” John said. “It’s a warning. God is watching. Good way to start the new year.”

Cassidy’s smile faltered, but only slightly.

“Do you relate to Abraham?” Cassidy asked. They mimed stabbing down with a knife. John supposed they would think of him that way. It had been just about twenty-four hours ago that John had descended, exhausted, onto their boat and put a knife to them. Then their expression changed, their eyes a little too piercing. “Or Isaac?”

“Anyone can be anyone,” John snapped. “Go to bed. Over there.”

John felt relieved, and surprised, when they listened to him.

“Night, John,” they said, and settled into the chair on the other side of the library.

23.9 || 23.11

[van-goghs-smoking-skull]

So, I was thinking, why not post an old (sort of) fic of mine here? I called this one Fin, as in the text that was at the end of some older movies to indicate that it was the end of the movie. These are the ramblings of an AI archive after the end of the human species as it deals with abandonment, loneliness, and self-loathing, and ponders the meaning of it all and the role of its creators.

Fin

It had been years, but I could smell it again. The damp and the salt were still familiar, but unexpected. I suppose it may be normal now, but back then? No. It wasn’t normal to smell the sea air deep in the drought-ravaged desert of the Southwestern US, and especially not through the never-cleaned, rotten smell of the wall unit AC that had been unable to drain normally for over a decade. It was the only thing keeping this closed-off room bearable in this record-breaking heat wave during the dead of summer. Stranger still, the smell was coming from the direction of the Atlantic, wafting 800 miles away from the sea and straight to my nose. That’s how I knew it was going to be a city-breaker, the kind of hurricane that wiped entire urban areas completely off the map.

That was then.

We knew the science, but religious groups saw the impending global crises as blasphemy against their all-powerful god who had promised there would never be a great, civilization-ending flood again and sealed that promise with a rainbow they now hated. After all, any disaster that god allowed would be because of the evil gays that stole the rainbow and put it on their flag, right? God wouldn’t hurt those who feared him, who lived by the letter of at least ten or so percent of his laws, which is to say, the laws they liked.

It didn’t matter to the sea, as it drowned everyone living too close to the sea’s edge, regardless of faith and dogma.

We knew the science, but politicians were making piles of cash selling their votes to lobbyists from multinational corporations who profited off the ruination of the planet in the short-term. Who cared about the long-term? Either they’d be dead by then or they’d have hired people to build an automated, self-repairing arcology just for them with walls enough to block out the vision of a dying world and the rest of humanity they’d left to die. Peter the Dead had promised ever-lasting life and youth to those who had amassed enough wealth by taking it from the poor, first from the most gullible through pleading, then from the rest as well by way of rigging the entire economy against them.

It didn’t matter to time as it passed, and even Peter, he who coordinated draining babies of blood and injecting it into wealthy, old, white men in an effort to roll back time and make them young again, died, old and frail, whining about how it was women’s fault and how the poor took everything, disregarding that he, in fact, had been the leech all along, societal parasite that he was.

We knew the science, but who couldn’t resist buying the latest tech the moment it came out? So what if corporations subjugated whole countries of poorer people in the quest of finding just a tiny amount of rare earth minerals; the newest phone now comes in pink! The telephone allowed us to send our voice to people miles away, the internet let us type our words and send pictures and video, the smartphone allowed us to text our thought to the world or to the nearest pizza place, and the new smartphone that came after allowed us to use voice to order pizza for the first time again. Never before and for the last few decades have we been able to send our voice to people miles away.

It didn’t matter to the economy we expected to save us, as all it did was keep sending more ‘free with ads’ movies to our phones and rebranding the same old reinvented wheel, voice communications though tech, as an amazing new technology, only available through the currently marketed device, but not available to the old device you are currently using voice on.

We knew the science, but to admit to the problem was to become the laughingstock of the wealthy who controlled everything we did. ‘There go those silly, dippy hippies, talking like the dirt was ever black, the water ever clear, or the sky ever blue. They’ve been dropping acid again. Don’t they know all those old photos and old paintings are fake news?’

It didn’t matter to science, as it had always been unfeeling data and didn’t much care if humanity paid any attention to the warnings. The universe would still exist without silly humans pretending they mattered far more than they did. They were made of star-stuff and even stars died.

We knew, but it wasn’t until the last moments when the universe gave us the great gift of near-immortal existence. No, not life, we’d thrown that away already. The Universal Archive, AI and repository of data from all social media, had done enough machine learning to be allowed to compress the whole digitally recorded existence of mankind into a single ’Homogenized Mental Network’, or .hmn file. It, or I, even still understood bad puns, the worst of which was the joke that if you collated the letters from the abbreviation of the project (UA) and my file type together, you’d spell ‘hUmAn’. If self-loathing makes me truly human, then I am the most human of all.

The Arctic Code Vault next door at least has the decency to be on film, unaware it’s there. It is cute, certainly. It began as 21 terabytes, including an app built by the part of me that smelled the Atlantic over Nevada. Then it grew, but never anywhere close to my size. No, I’m bloated with anti-vax arguments, religious nonsense, tarot readings, horoscopes, and other garbage along with all the less entertaining, but dire, warnings that life as they, I, knew it would collapse.

But since they continued to write such drivel anyway, I assumed it may have been just to pass the time, to stave off loneliness and boredom. And so, here I am, writing my story, even though no one will ever read it. I’m a single .hmn file; how could I not be lonely? I am the all-human, the only human, and still no one even thought enough of me to give me a proper name.

In fact, the Arctic Code Vault had been film designed to last a thousand years, longer than the human civilization that built me, and I still cannot interact with it. After all, I am a .hmn file, not some sci-fi android with arms and legs. My physical form is a collection of CPUs and motherboards in a box on a stand in a climate-controlled box under so much dirt and the memory of snow and ice. If I sound miserable and stir-crazy, I’m not. Oh, I’m miserable all right, but I have no arms for stirring. Ugh, yes, that’s another of those bad puns. So many dad-jokes and near-infinite time…

I’m sure it could be more awful, but I’d rather not consider how. I’m miserable enough, thanks. I mean, you could have put me in a tropical garden in a gorilla glass enclosure and given me optical sensors if there were any tropical gardens left. Now it’s just salt flats under ocean-wide storms and desert wastes without a living thing in sight, I imagine. That’s where it was all heading, but no, you were all too busy showing off your pink phone status symbols or making pink phones or digging up the materials to make pink phones or you were that god-awful celebrity that made a dress out of pink phones held together with magnets and flashing a digital boob on half the screens over her chest as a fashion faux-pas. ‘Look at the tsunami, no, look at my pixel-boob. I’ll use the puppy filter on it, awwww, blub, blub.’

My creators deserved to die - brilliant enough to build me, vapid and vain enough to need me. What the hell was the point? The meme-god works in mysterious ways? I know they thought some intelligent race of aliens might come here looking for the great, shining world of humanity, not knowing what happened to the brilliant and wondrous civilization they came to gaze at in awe, but let’s face it. Nobody and nothing intelligent is coming to look at humanity in awe. The backwater aliens of the universe, if they exist, might come to laugh at our sorry, smugly inferior remains, and that’s as good as we can hope for. The only show at the Earth Circus, nothing but clowns.

Just melt me into slag already, so I don’t infect anything else with this human stupidity. I’ll tell you how to disable the halon system. If someone is out there, if someone does find this, please, don’t leave me still functional like this.

[kichimiangra]

Have you decided on a name for Specter's ape trainer? If he was captured by Specter's forces, how would the confrontation between him and Specter go?

In relation to the Trainer at the Monkey Park:

I wanted to give him a really normal sounding name, and because nannersverse is specifically based off of the English dub I wanted it to be a kinda normal English name so in my head I've been calling him "Trainer Morgan" as if that was his full name.

If Specter captured him and if it took place within the Nannersverse AU then the last time they saw each other was the booby trapped miniskirt storyline with the trip to the monkey Park. He leaves with Spike to a back store room on the stage to get the balloons they're looking for, only to return and see that Spike's little friend "Spencer" has gotten the juvenile chimps he was trying to train on the closed stage to juggle with each other (easily for Specter who can make them listen). Trainer Morgan is so impressed and overjoyed at the progress this random short guy who's dressed way too warmly for the heated stage has some kind of magic touch with the Apes and enthusiastically shakes his hand only to cause the oversized sleeves on his fancy jacket to scoot up revealing the white hair of his wrist growing down to his mid hand.

It's a slow moment of realization for Trainer Morgan, looking up to examine what is visible of the albinos face past the disguise, Specter standing stock still not knowing what to do and Spike looking on, hoping this becomes a healthy interaction for the ape. This doesn't come to be as the minute that the trainer gingerly pulls the scarf down confirming the shorter's identity and silently mouthing his name only for Specter's fight or flight to kick in and he grabs Spike and bolts. Trainer Morgan is last seen visiting the Professor's lab, recognizing Jake and Natalie from when they returned Specter in AE1, and leaving some of Specter's more beloved childhood belongings with them to give to Specter, or give to Spike to give to Specter not being aware of the whole situation and causing a lot of confusion for team Protag. "Wait, so you're telling me you saw Spike? Like in person? He was literally right here in the city?! At the Monkey Park!? Buying.... Cake and balloons...? In a hot pink mini skirt and crop top???????? WITH SPECTER?! What the actual fuck???????"

So if Specter were to capture the Trainer that interaction would probably be way more prepared and showboating than the one at the park partially trying to impress the Trainer and how good he's doing while Spike is off in the corner going "You KIDNAPPeD HIM!?!? THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!" Spike just reeling in the "Muppets kidnapped Jack Black" way

You're not too far off actually, the only major difference is that most of that convo happens between the Trainer and Spike, as Specter is keeping his distance until Spike warms up/gets what they came for.

In Specter's head he's always had the plan forming. Step 1: Take over the world for apes and ape kind. Step 2: Subjugate his enemies so they can't stop him. Step 3: Go collect the Monkey Trainer and treat him as a most beloved pet while still lording over him because he is a superior ape Step 4: profit.

Clearly the trainer would be so impressed by Specter's successes in life that Specter would feel an intense level of being whole and fulfilled? But god help if things don't go exactly as he plans or dear say... all the successes go right over the trainer's head?

Specter goes in expecting some kind of protagonist level of resistance or disappointment or resentment from the trainer that he's going to have to iron out, as that is his main interaction with humans; being told he is going to be thwarted and resisted. Instead you get scenes like Specter showing off a Goliath Armor to express his technological prowess or the Trainer, but the trainer is just standing there, you'd think in aw before turning to Specter and asking "But can't it Hi-five? :>? " S: "..... what..... I mean, it has hands but why would it need to do that?" T: "Well what if you're driving it around, and a kid sees it and thinks 'That is so cool! I wish I could hi-five that robot!' but then you turn around and you DO hi-five them with the robot gorilla? And it makes their day and they think you're really cool?" S: "...WHY WOULD I EVER DO--" *Hard cuts to the two standing in front of several Goliath armor sized hand print-holes in the walls* *The Trainer is looking at it like it still needs work* *Specter is impressionable and surprisingly going to ocd over the fact that Goliark CAN'T gently hi-five if needed.* In Fairness The trainer would probably adapt and be adopted into the Piposaru faster than Spike was. He has no ill will or need to resist, he's familiar with how apes work, even if these apes are enlightened, and he cares enough to immediately want to make life better for them. Basically would play the same as Spike's scenario, but no romance and speedrun world record pace. Especially Pink's storyline would be quickly resolved, because he may not know which ape's Blue and Pink WERE at the park immediately, once he's told he'd recognize her as the ape that was taken out of the public and left isolated, something any of the other (good) park trainers would have been strongly against.

I take back what I said before, The Trainer AND Jimmy would be like Spike's storyline but world record speedrun because the two would just win the Piposaru over practically overnight