#end of cold war

[collophora]

"Let's fix this drawing" *redraw the whole thing*

[sketchupnfries]

On a trip to Batuu

Felt like finally drawing a variation of "Jedi Survivor Goes to Disneyland," but as "Cal, Merrin and BD-1 go on a trip to Batuu." I have been waiting to do another one of these "fandom goes to Disneyland" drawing things, and I finally got the chance to take some pics in Galaxy's Edge the other day during a recent Disneyland trip.

[god-of-this-new-blog]

One must imagine Lawlight happy

[godsfavoritelitlesilly]

I love pitting cruel bitches against each other

[bberry005]

my highly specific star wars take? if the bad batch was released/written/a concept before rebels then omega would've been a recurring character if not a member of the ghost crew. sabine thinks she's the coolest person ever and ezra and zeb are both a little (a lot) afraid of her. she's best friends with hera. omega and kanan hated each other a little at first but now they'd probably die for each other but will never admit it. there's one episode where omega just says "my brothers are coming to help" and then clone force 99 plus phee and emerie all just appear and ezra and zeb are like "how are there MORE OF YOU?!". omega is simultaneously the best and worst influence on everyone around her. she probably teaches sabine how to use a sniper rifle and teaches ezra fancy knife tricks he always fails at. she and rex act like annoying siblings all the time. she's constantly saying "i know a guy" and then some high profile criminal shows up.

[companion-showdown]

Who is the best TARDIS team?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

propaganda under the cut

12, Clara, Missy

Imagine the 3 worst people you know, who are simultaneously exactly the same and completely different. The epitome of the "Wow These People Are So Weird, Thank God I'm the Normal One" meme. Now imagine putting them together in a box and shaking it around. It's so funny, I love them

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cold War

The receiving room was beautifully furnished. Neither overly ostentatious nor fussy in design. But it had a... coldness to it. This entire god forsaken building was, artfully hidden fireplaces be damned.

And it wasn't just the temperature.

The North may be a cold place, but the people there had always been a hardy one. Kind, if stoic. Not the sort for empty words and flamboyant gestures. So to see a building like this? One so very, very COLD? It spoke of something rotten. Something gone terribly wrong and far beyond control, hidden away out in the countryside where no one could stop it in time.

And it had.

And it DID.

And oh, how we SUFFERED for it, didn't we?

I didn't understand what went wrong. I knew, KNEW, because I was no fool, that the Story would change. Since I was remove a load bearing antagonist, how could it NOT? But... well, I did not wish to die. Certainly not for some other girl's love story. I refused to suffer. To be humiliated. To lead a life of pain and degradation. Just so she might frolic about with men, only to ultimately end up on the throne.

She would either have to find her way to greatness on her own merit, or settle of mediocrity. But it would NOT be built upon the back of my suffering. I gracefully bowed out. Took leave of the stage. And? Comported myself as befit a daughter of my house.

They were not... the most open. In fact, they struggled to connect. To offer or even receive comforts of any kind. But my family LOVED with a fierceness that would lead armies and burn nations. We were ABSOLUTE. And we? Stand TOGETHER. Always.

I would never forget. No matter how many days pass by. WHO I first saw when I opened my eyes. Clustered around my tiny form, rumbled and undignified in a way I would never see them again, with eyes that shone with such RELIEF. I never saw my mother's make run like that again. I half believe she hopes I do not remember.

But I DO.

And I always will.

In the Story, my character was a terror. Haughty and cruel. Sadistic. A wealthy brat that played God right up until all her sins came due. She drove a great deal of the early plot. I? Did none of those things. I threw myself into being a good daughter and a shining reflection upon the parents I loved.

I took my etiquette lessons seriously, to the delight of my teachers. My school work was promptly finished and followed by clarifying questions, to the joy of my tutors. I was polite to my peers. Overlooked their embarrassing early fumbles and mistakes. Helped them navigate social disasters with dignity. Promised nothing yet remained approachable.

My prospects had been ABYSMAL in the Story. It was part of the Narrative's punishment, I think. Though in hindsight, it is an ugly thing to do. A wonder I ever found such a story interesting enough to read. I imagine, it is the difference between tales and lived events? Nonetheless. My father was FLOODED with letters.

My poor mother absolutely HARRASED. Not an outing could go by, without SOMEONE mentioning their DEAR, SWEET son or nephew. To maintain proper appearances and neutrality, I was forced to attend more party's and events then I EVER wished to see.

I felt like a slab of meat up for auction. A show pony. But I also knew it was temporary. That I need only keep an eye out for a good, respectful man. Listen to the rumor mills. Discreetly bribe a few servants for information that "everyone knew". It was, after all, the way of things.

Should have been, the way of things.

But trouble started. Strange infighting, that started between boys and escalated to entire households. Tense, unspoken, lines dividing garden parties that only the day before were amicable. The Protagonist and her Harem of powerful players? Were BLIND to it.

Two of them were PRINCE for God sake! How had they been RAISED, that they could not feel the sudden shift in the socio-political landscape of their Father's court? He certainly could. And it clearly unnerved him. Yet? The Harem, each son's, each HEIRS, of some powerful position? Seemed both blind and deaf to all but the painfully obvious.

And even THAT? Was apparently unconnected to each other in their empty little minds. Had they nothing but flowers and glitter between their ears? One had to assume.

People were... accidentally forgotten. When invitations were sent. Then deliberately. Then OPENLY. Then? They were SNUBBED. Events deliberately scheduled on the same day, at the same time, as another. So all of polite society would have to CHOOSE. It was escalation.

And if it had been on or two houses? It would have been scandalous. Depending on the house, perhaps even worrying. A handful of houses? The king might have tried to get involved. Forcefully mediate. But it... it was somehow so much WORSE. Was EVERYWHERE.

Like someone had carefully examined the entirety of the Court for fault lines, then SWUNG. Some silent, careful, machination that left everyone at everyone's throat. Divided. Weak.

Easy to manipulate and control.

I could not for the life of me find the source of it all. My social season becoming swiftly more and more dangerous. Politically charged. People pushing and PUSHING for alliances I could not and WOULD NOT give without consulting my family. The capital was no longer safe. So... I quietly left.

Letters of vague excuse. Family matters, cousin so-n-so in their time of need, I'm sure you understand. Too late to stop me and under the cover of darkness.

It... I tell myself it is not my fault. That it would have happened either way. That I could not have known. But... but guilt is a heavy thing. It sits like lead in your gut. Like chains around your soul. They were waiting, I think. More, I suspect. Because...

Because the capital all but EXPLODED.

The carnage was IMMEDIATE. Not even a full day later, at a hunting party, the heir to one house shot the second son to another.

He did not survive.

The powder keg finally sparked and it all went up in flames. Alliances that had stood for centuries, shattered. Brother turned against brother. A wedding turned into a bloodbath, as the bride turned on both her family AND the groom, escaped into the night. Fights broke out everywhere.

The festering tension that had gone for so long unspoken? Could no longer be ignored. Would not, be ignored. The king was helpless to stop it all. The gaurd could only do so much. The fluffy, happy, empty headed little world of comfort the Protagonist knew? Was shredded to pieces.

It became starkly clear that the royal family... couldn't handle it.

That their heirs were... Weak.

Captain of the Gaurd, the Prime Minister, even the King's strongest supporter, the Duke of the East, ALL of them had... weak and ineffectual heirs. One or two could be a failing of parentage, but all together? They had let someone sabotage their sons. Make them puppets to be used and discarded at convenience.

The natural suspicion, of course, fell to the one most benefiting from said son's empty headedness. Much to the Harem's horror. No! Not their beloved shared girlfriend! That the world was burning around them? Of no consequence. But upsetting their darling little mouse? Unforgivable!

It was an act of true, genuine, paternal love; that those fools were banished by the king. They would have been killed horribly had they remained.

My family and I? Retreated to our lands. We had enough to survive. Our House and our People came first. We sent no messages, we received none. I practiced my frankly terrible embroidery. My maids gently CORRECTED my frankly terrible embroidery. The country BURNED.

Powerful people were picked off, one by one.

And wouldn't you know it? A new star was rising from the chaos. A voice of reason. Charismatic. Driven. Handsome and powerful, with the bloodline to match. Conveniently allied already to all those people who had replaced the Old Guard in government! How very serendipitous. That those positions should just... open up, like that. That he just HAPPEN to have such qualified people at the ready.

What ARE the odds?

My House knew our monster know. We watched. Careful. As he smiled and smiled. One hand open in welcome, the other? Holding a knife, hidden just out of sight. The king saw him for what he was. And the monster saw a worthy foe in the king. They were, after all, both very Dangerous men.

It was likely swordsmen duel.

Deadly steel clashing, shining, swift as it dances, from attack to defend to attack again. Experience versus youth. Power against power. The king was an old dragon, stood against a tiger come to see him dead. And though the dance was breathtaking? In the end... the dragon was old. Tired. And not the man he had once been.

The tiger won.

The king died in his sleep. Of... natural causes. No one believed it. No one dared say otherwise. The crown princess ascended the throne. She had played the game well. Taken after her Father. Been neglected in favor of her idiot brothers. In the Story, she was to be married off. A side character never to be heard from again.

It seems she was not content with such a fate.

Now she was Queen.

My family and I applauded. Polite. I hoped it marked the end of the strangeness. So many had died. So much had changed. Surely... surely it was over, wasn't it? But then? In the cold light of the early morning hours? A letter. Pristine and on a fine paper. Sat like a viper upon the table before us. A bomb.

My Father had stared at it, over steepled hands, like if he glared long enough? It would simply catch fire and burn away. The Monster's crest. Pressed lovingly into the wax. What... what did That Man want with us?

I watched him grit him teeth. Run his letter opener through paper like he was imagining jerking it across flesh, slitting the bastards throat for DARING to threaten his family. I held my mother's hand as he read. Watched his grip on the pages go white knuckled.

He didn't even tell a servant to burn it.

He slammed his chair back, in a terrible fury, and marched straight to the nearest fireplace to consign the letter to the flames. Over his dead body. Was his announcement. I... I had a terrible feeling it might be, whatever was on those pages.

The letters kept coming.

My Father burned them all.

Then? Trouble started.

And I did not need to see history twice, to know how it would end. I got up early. Waited near the damn GATES. My Father could not burn the letter before I read it, if I was there first. It... it was a marriage proposal. I... I did not understand. Why? For what POSSIBLE reason would he...?

It did not matter though, ultimately. I would be saying yes.

For my family? Anything.

And so I packed. My Father knew he couldn't stop me. I was entirely too much his daughter. It was why he had burned the letters. I was doing exactly what he would have done. He vowed to kill him. Slowly. Held me a swore. He would make me the loviest widow to ever live. My Mother promised to go look up family recipes for poisons. For rats, of course.

I loved them so, so much.

I LOVE them even now.

It is why I sit, back straight, fragrant tea untouched, in this cold but beautiful receiving room. I wear my best dress. The one that makes me look coldly beautiful. Elegant but untouchable. I feel like a winter spirit in it. Something made of ice and bone. I wear it when I want to feel stronger. I don't know if it's helping.

If I hold myself still. Count my breathing and do not think. I can almost... ALMOST? Slip into a trance, I think. Let my mind unfocus. They are keeping me waiting. It's a power play. So be it. You will find me unaffected. Bored even, by your petty displays. I stare peacefully into nothing. A statue in a silent room.

I hope I fucking unnerve them.

Confident footsteps. How quite has it become, that I can hear them, even through the door? I do not turn my head. Note absent-mindedly that the tea before me has long grown cold. This whole damn place is cold. I dispise it. The door is opened for the master of this house. I pointedly do not greet him.

"Aaah~, So COLD" He sing song's, almost chiding, it'd be nearly playful if not for the hint of something darker threaded through his voice. He has an almost victorious little bounce to his step as he approaches. "But then again, I already knew that, didn't I? Frigid, untouchable, and unfeeling~ Now? Now you're MINE~"

He laughs. There is something half disbelieving, half euphoric in the noise. Like he's finally gotten everything he's ever wanted and doesn't know what to DO with himself. He invades my space. Looms. Eyes a touch too wide as he stares. Drinking in the sight of me sitting before him, like he can't believe it's real.

"Do you know, snowdrop? How long it TOOK? What I had to DO to achieve this? Ha ha!" The grin that spills across his feature is unhinged. All I can do is sit, tense and frozen before a madman, as he speaks. "The WHINING, the COMPLAINING, the 'what about meeeee'~! They never shut UP! Wretched and pathetic to the last, they panted after you like DOGS."

Hands slid from his pockets, to come to rest on either side of me on the arm rests, bracing and caging me in. Trapping me as he leaned down. Entirely too close. He smelled like winter air, sharp but clean. His eyes were a blue grey so hauntingly pale, they seemed to bore straight into the soul.

"But they were so GREEDY. So DESPERATE for power. It was EASY, to play them like fools against each other. Make them DANCE. And worth it. Because I get what I wanted~ The brat get her silly little throne, and you?" His grin was all teeth. One hand coming up to rest on my head. "Now you can NEVER escape me."

The hand slid, slow and fingers splayed, downwards. Possessive as each finger brushed, stroked, the side of my face. My jaw. My neck. His eyes following it down with something that could only be blatant lust. His grip tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke. Just, it seemed, to prove to himself that he COULD.

His thumb rest again my pulse, facinated.

Sliding back up to cup my chin, gently forcing my head up, so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His eyes were dilated. I glared.

"I am going to RUIN you." He whispered, sounding entirely too reverent. As though it were some act of worship he had planned. "Take you apart at the seams. Pretty, pretty little thing. Mine, all mine~"

"I saw you first, you know. You couldn't even be bothered to look at me. I tried all night. That's when I KNEW. I was going to hunt you down. MAKE you mine. Marry you and destroy anyone and anything that stood in my way. And I DID~♡"

"I'm going to have each and every part of you, Darling. Love you and love you until you can't HELP but love me back. We are going to be BEAUTIFUL together. You don't have a choice~♡"

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.

[inklore]

who’s dick i gotta fondle to get the acolyte season two?

[welldonekhushi]

Solovetsky Ending

Timeline: Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War

Characters featured: Russell Adler, Vincent "Bell" Stephens (Vasili Mikhailovich Sokolov)

Summary: Bell did the righteous by siding with Adler and choosing Solovetsky to stop Perseus from nuking Europe. But, even after achieving triumph, Bell feels a little unsatisfied with the result.

Warnings: Some profanity, use of guns, slight gore and a.. plot twist? Cliffhanger?

Adler and Bell, arrive at the cliffside, overlooking the sea where the seagulls fly. It seemed peaceful, and calm, especially after a bigger threat was over — stopping Perseus. Bell willingly handed over the coordinates to Adler about the hidden missiles that were in the safety of the Solovetsky Monastery, after revealing him about everything the reason they brainwashed him for.

Adler takes a glance at the weather for a while, while Bell just kept staring at the agent, with a neutral expression. Adler takes out a cigarette and lights it up, inhaling the stick and puffing out the smoke from his lips, as he speaks his first words.

"Arctic air. Clears the head, doesn't it?" Adler smiles, turning to Bell who rather listens to the conversation diligently.

"Bell, you made two extraordinary sacrifices to stop Perseus. One was without your knowledge. The other.. you made that decision of your own accord." Adler took another drag of his cigarette, blowing off the smoke from his lips. "I just want you to know that this little thing that's happened to you and me.. It was always for the greater good."

Bell slightly smiled at the success of their mission, his eyes darted towards the rocks for a while, before he could face the agent in triumph.

"You're a damn hero, you know that, kid?" Adler tossed his cigarette away, as he took one step away from Bell, looking out at the horizon.

"I'm sorry that along with wiping off your memories, with giving you the Vietnam flashbacks, and your indulgence with Park with the MI6.. we had to make you reluctant to speak. But don't worry, that will wear off anytime, just the secondary brainwash effects. And as they say, heroes have to make sacrifices. For the greater good."

"I know." Bell finally spoke towards Adler, in a confident tone. "But, I'm glad that you brought me wherever I am right now, Russell."

Adler was slightly confused, yet surprised when Bell had his voice opened after a long time of being silent. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but continued to cooperate with his teammate. "What do you mean, Bell?"

"To teach me. What it feels to be controlled under somebody, when in truth, you were always meant to be free." Bell speaks his thoughts, after having them caged inside of him for a long time.

"Perseus only thought of me as an useful asset. He used me for his own advantage.. despite promising me he'd protect me. I lost everything that I had. Turns out, I feel glad that you saved me from that turmoil." Bell was opening up to Adler, as he carefully listened to him talking about his days with the opposing faction.

"But.. can I be honest with you, Adler?" Bell tilts his head, his hands now inside of his pockets as he takes a satisfied sigh. The agent was a bit reluctant to listen, but he gave the nod.

"Sure but, I think we don't have much time so, speed up kid."

Bell looked at the sky for a short while, before he spoke the truth. "I was about to send you all to Duga. I had no choice."

Adler was a bit astonished by Bell's words. Did Bell have a plan in his head to kill the whole team before? If he wanted to, he could have chosen that very path, but instead he went for Solovetsky. It was quite baffling for Adler to piece together everything, as Bell continues to speak.

"But.. knowing that Perseus used me, I couldn't spare him for what he did along with the rest. So, I took my revenge, and gave him what he deserves.. but — something in me still feels empty. As if Perseus wasn't enough."

Adler was feeling a bit unsure that what was the other thing Bell felt incomplete all this time. They got to Perseus already, who was the other one in his head?

"I used to feel like I was inside of a cage. Locked. Nowhere to escape. But now, it seems like the crow has finally spread its wings. And it knows what to do now."

Something didn't feel right for Adler, as the uneasiness inside of him grew even louder. Bell was smiling towards him, in a way that would leave the CIA agent into a thousand doubts.

"Because as you said, Adler.. sacrifices are to be made. For the greater good."

Adler slightly backed off from Bell, who gave him a neutral expression but the smile in him vanished the moment his stare became a glare. Bell took one step ahead towards Adler, as he tried calling onto to bring him back to his senses.

"Bell."

"It's Vasili." He drew his gun out of his pocket, and shot Adler on the shoulder, making the man fall down with great force. The agent groaned in pain, the blood leaking out of his jacket, as Adler growled and drew his hands towards his pockets to take out his pistol and aim towards Bell, but he knocked the gun off by his legs and slammed his feet on Adler's chest, pinning him on the rocky surface on the cliff they were while the injured man grunted in agony.

"I want you to remember this very moment, Russell. The day you tricked me was the biggest mistake of your entire life." Bell, who now referred to himself as Vasili, expressed his resentment towards Adler who was responsible for the brainwashing, and made him believe that he was one of the family, only to get what he wanted — which was finding Perseus.

"You fucked with my mind. You fucked with my identity. And you took away the only thing that represented me for who I was!" He gripped the pistol tighter towards Adler as he spat in anger, letting out the pent-up frustration he had inside of him for a long time. "You aren't less than Perseus, aren't you Adler? But what to say.." Bell chuckled half-heartedly. "You were so.. blind. Thinking you're the pure one here when you have blood on your hands as well, sir."

Adler watched in horror as he couldn't believe that Bell would actually turn his back away from him. Vasili then slowly bends down towards the man, so he can say something important before he takes his leave.

"Not even Perseus, nor Russell Adler. But just.. Vasili. Which is me." Bell said, his words sharp so they'd be remembered. He pulled out his leg from Adler, as the agent choked and wheezed for air, coughing. He gripped his shoulder tightly, trying to get on his feet but got on his knees instead.

Bell checked the reloads and cocked his gun. "I could have killed you right now, Adler.. but I have better plans than that. I hope that the wound gives you a good time when you return to the safehouse."

Adler tried to reach out to Bell, extending his arm as if he didn't want him to leave. "Bell.. listen to me. We can talk about this."

Vasili just glared at the man, with no remorse. Yet, he wishes to hear him one last time. "I would want you to speed up as well, Adler. I don't have much time."

"Trust me. I didn't mean to make you suffer, Bell.. I only want you to understand. That.. this was never personal." Adler quickly grabbed the pistol that was on the ground, and drew his aim towards Vasili, prepared to shoot the agent back. Meanwhile, Bell widened his eyes as Adler was about to retaliate, and before Bell could pull out the gun —

BANG!

Fade to black. And the lore continues.

[bambimeadows]

*Minor spoilers*

The ending was so shit and rushed and anti climatic like it ALWAYS is, be fucking for real.

BUTTTTTT Adler is gonna be in the next black ops hahahahahah, im really gonna reach 30 years old at this point and still be simping for that man huh💀 so be it

I’m gonna post a full review soon once I’ve gathered my thoughts

[awkward-sultana]

Magnificent Century + Close ups of The Emerald Ring™ (requested by anonymous)

[juiceagainandagainandagain]

nikitaaaa

[prickly-paprikash]

Feels like the beef is over. Possible Kendrick album drop on the horizon. He even went and lifted copyright claims over any video that uses his four diss tracks since him and his team knew the fire they started over the weekend and that this would go a long way in helping out reactors, edit channels, dissection channels and more.

With the (likely) end of this feud, investigations need to begin. If Kendrick has proper receipts over his allegations, it needs to see the light of day and I hope it's soon. Rap disses is one thing—these are predator accusations that need to be met with the proper gravity. Given his relations with Baka and the stories in Toronto cropping up of his activities, I feel at the very least confident that there will be things Drake needs to address. And address them soon.

But I also want to discuss the (possible) last diss. The Heart Part 6.

A pathetic attempt to steal a title from Kendrick's own series of singles "The Heart Parts I-V". Songs that Kendrick has utilized to give introspection regarding the industry, his masculinity, depression, his savior complex and so much more. And Drake uses that title for what exactly?

Not a brutal response. Not a catchy summer bop.

He sounds defeated. His lyrics are incoherent, going from saying he planted that false information, to also saying that those who planted it are clowns and fakes. He dismisses and ridicules Kendrick's "Mother, I Sober" song, a story about Kendrick being harassed and SA. Except, as I have since corrected myself over thanks to others on here, that the entire song is him saying the assault never happened and no one believes him. So not only did Drake contradict his claims in one song, he showed his illiteracy.

And Kendrick doesn't respond like he does with Family Matters. When Drake dropped FM, Kendrick immediately invalidated an entire seven minute track by dropping his own response, a haunting meet the grahams, within thirty minutes. A malicious dissection and mock therapy session between him and every member of the Grahams, including Drake's alleged hidden daughter. And finishes the blow by dropping Not Like Us in less than a day, a certified summer hit that has already been played over and over again across the world. When Drake stans accused him of making boring, sleep-causing disses because they were too deep and complex, Kendrick dropped all pretense and released a song produced by DJ Mustard himself to bluntly call Drake and his posse predators while making everyone, including Drake's own base, to dance to the beat.

And we return to Drake's last response. More dislikes than likes. Boring. Lacking the pettiness and replayability that previous disses possessed. A sad, final attempt at a defense and Kendrick doesn't seem to bother responding.

Instead, it seems he leaves it up to the public now. Let them do the rest of the work.

I have to ask one final time.

What made Drake think it was a smart idea to go bar for bar in a lyrical war against a man who won a Pulitzer and has more than three times the amount of Grammy's he does?

RIP Drake, I guess. Didn't realize your entire legacy would be destroyed on a club beat. Ironic, actually.

[dykesynthezoid]

Been sitting on my bed post-shower thinking about the tags Aabria put out earlier just staring at the wall bc I think we’ve all noticed the Soviet influences in how the Last Bast is organized and ofc in their character art. And I could get into the whole cult of efficiency thing and the de-individualization and so on. But Aabria’s tags are what made me gasp and go “OH! If the Last Bast has Soviet influences, our Stoat family are Americans.”

I don’t mean this literally ofc (this is all not meant to be set in a real place etc etc) but the more I think about it the more I want to bang my head on the wall. The family walks in and from the first second they’re making assumptions. Some of them actually verbally insist that they’re the ones who are special and exceptional, and more of them probably do believe that in an unspoken way. There’s a rigidity in each of them, an unwillingness to engage with this other new (to them) culture on that culture’s own terms. They’re all paranoid; which isn’t necessarily anyone’s fault, of course! The stoats are traumatized— and the players have seen watership down, they’ve seen secret of nimh, they know what it means to stumble upon such an organized and technologically advanced society in a story like this. Aabria knows the tropes she’s working with. And in a way, it perfectly sets up both the characters and the players to be as apprehensive and paranoid as possible.

And beyond just paranoia there’s a quality I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, partly bc of recent events— An innate, unshakeable belief in the inevitability of violence, the inevitability of domination and control. The idea that it is completely unavoidable no matter the circumstances, which means any measure of “Defense,” no matter how extreme, will always be justified. And granted, some of the Last Bast seem to share in this perspective. Because there are things about the Last Bast that are shady; it’s just seeming more and more unlikely that will all boil down to one, horrible secret. The things wrong with Last Bast aren’t so simple. They’re systemic. Y’know, like a real society.

And don’t get me started on that shadowpuppet animation! They began the world. So many things were “illuminated.” Opportunity, Reason, Technology, Power. The belief in an inevitable enemy… to what they have rightfully claimed. All of that— Classic, deeply historical ideas associated with the Enlightenment, with the Industrial Revolution, all that very human bullshit. They are what pulled the world out of the darkness and anyone that threatens that are the shadow. Reason and Power will prevail, they will own what they want, because it’s what they deserve. It’s what they deserve for being so enlightened and industrial and, by implication, superior to everything and everyone else.

Anyway. Aabria is a genius.

[ambigiousorganfailure]

ONE MORE THOUGHT I PROMISE, i can’t really speak on this but this is slightly based around my last post;

i feel that in a “bell lives” au in bo6, there’s almost a superiority/inferiority complex with bell and harrow. not only speaking on their positions both being mentored by adler at different times, but pantheon’s work for super soliders (ie. case) was already said to be directly themed and based on MK ultra-and if bell were a real, human being, they would be the poster child, the greatest example of what memory implanting and a cocktail of drugs can do-even if it was rushed. harrow wasn’t only chasing the ghost of what adler had done, but bell’s success, trying to replicate it on a higher level.

and look what happened; even until the end, bell can’t lie to adler, can’t bring it in themself not to follow him and that faux connection, while harrow’s science project feels a hatred that digs its way into his nightmares, a betrayal so heavy he can’t fathom trying to see her as a person anymore, let alone someone who used to be his friend. the fact case was partially retired from pantheon means that harrow failed, not even to say that she couldn’t keep him bound to her enough to be useful or work as leverage against anyone else.

i feel bell and case would connect very well, but harrow and bell leaves a feeling of power on bell’s side of the line-“look what you’ve done,” the shadow of adler, emulating everything she’s ever strived to be, who does it so effortlessly it’s like breathing, “i’m almost flattered i was your role model. almost.”

i’m a bit surprised that i haven’t seen people exploring their relationship more, as strange as it is to have to position. they have a decent deal of parallels where my brain slots them together just fine.