#like...maybe a massive version of this....

[tanadrin]

i think this is actually an important counterpoint to OP, because what Factorio is simulating is not the logic of colonialism per se. it's actually a lousy metaphor for colonialism. you are a lone individual who has crash-landed on a planet and is attempting to build a supply chain for sci-fi technology from the ground up to get off the planet (or, in Space Age, out of the solar system).

if Factorio were a metaphor for colonialism, you wouldn't be a lone actor; you would be backed by the power of a state, you would gain a foothold by negotiating with local elites--sometimes very powerful elites, who run empires more powerful than even your home state--and you would work to create an extractive layer on top of or within preexisting systems of local domination and exploitation. when the Portuguese sailed into the Indian OCean in the 16th century, they made treaties with Indian monarchs to set up trading posts on the coast, raided the shipping of other countries, and traded for spices they shipped back to Europe. The model of colonialism that prevailed throughout Africa and Asia would have been completely impossible without preexisting states and preexisting elites and lots and lots of negotiation that put the European powers into a position where military conquest was actually possible, and also a useful way to get what they wanted--and if Factorio was actually modeling this, you would also have to be being supported from off-world by your home state, providing you massive amounts of supplies and manpower in order to make all this possible, because historical colonialism was also a huge drain on the coffers of the states that practiced it, even as it provided returns to individual members of those societies

Even if you took the tack that Factorio is a metaphor for more New World/Australian-style colonialism, which tended to involve a lot more genocide and expulsions than colonialism in Asia and Africa, 1) diplomacy was still a huge part of these conflicts, 2) some colonial powers like France explicitly depended on preexisting local systems to gain profit, e.g., trading with natives for furs rather than trying to run a purely settler-based conquest-and-land-seizure enterprise, 3) in South America, in areas with dense state formation like the Andes and Mesoamerica, there were complex interactions with and often close cooperation with native elites, and heavy exploitation of native labor

Arguably, the only version of "colonialism" this kind of chokepoint-oriented bite-and-hold strategy emulates is maybe the westward expansion of the United States, where native populations were not integrated into the economic system, and were driven out or remanded to reservations. but it's not unique to that period of history: these kinds of wars of extermination and driving-out aimed at seizing territory and natural resources so your own population can exploit them have been practiced in many times and places all over the globe, usually where populations are small enough to make them feasible (including sometimes in pre-Columbian North America), motivated by lots of different ideologies that include but are not limited to the colonial ideology of Manifest Destiny that motivated the American version. So what's being replicated here isn't colonialism, but a type of warfare that is very ancient and not restricted to state-based societies or formal empires.

and that's if you grant that the aliens on Nauvis are a compelling metaphor for other human societies in those kinds of conflicts. I'm personally not convinced; "individual or small group of people moving into uninhabited territory and reshaping it according to their whims, resulting in among other problems conflict with local wildlife" sounds more like a metaphor for the expansion of human populations of any sort into uninhabited regions, and the environmental upheavals and disruptions that can result--as applicable or more applicable to Iceland in the 8th century or Polynesians in the 14th or ancient humans expanding out of Africa thousands and thousands of years ago (with the widespread extinction of megafauna following in their wake) than the specific 500 year period of modern colonialism, or even the ca. 200 year period of westward American conquest.

One of my mutuals (foss?) remarked that Factorio is the best videogame about colonialism, it doesn't overbearingly lecture and it doesn't explicitly tell you it's about colonialism, it directly invites you to see things from the viewpoint of the colonizer who landed in a new world and started extracting resources. If you know the game and look at the map here, you can trace a thought process embedded in the image that goes something like:

hmm, my rapacious industry (southeast) is upsetting the natives, maybe I should build some solar panels and restrain myself

hmmm, the solar panels are underwhelming, I'll build some guns and walls on my frontier to repel native raids instead

hmmm, those cliffs and lakes over there would be good chokepoints, I can drive out the natives to create a buffer zone

hmmm, the landmass ends there, conquering the entire north peninsula would be more convenient to give me a shorter border, I just have to cleanse it of the increasingly violent natives. gotta arm up heavily. Bring the earthmovers and deforestation, it'll be easier to draw straight lines on the map than keep working with the terrain at this point.

Diplomacy with the natives? the default interface presents no options for that.

[casdeans-pie]

How is such a massive portion of this fandom so homophobic??????? It's 2025 people !!!! Grow up and accept that not everyone is straight white middle class maybe ?????

I've never seen it this bad in any other fandom

People will just be outright homophobic on anything to do with Destiel on official sources and be totally blind to how hateful and gross they are

Genuinely floors me every time

I have been in a loooooot of fandoms - people will ship stuff! Slash, crack, characters that aren't even in the same show.... shipping two of the male leads is not this insane thing that these 'fans' in the spn fandom think it is. Have they ever been in literally any other fandom ????????

They'll be sat there having a tantrum like WaaAhHh I dOn't SeE iT !

And I'm like, nobody cares!!! They must have all been children who stole the other kids toys and broke them on purpose. You enjoy your sad little surface text where everyone is exactly how they act and say they are, and I'll enjoy my nuanced version thanks.

It just blows my mind when people cry and scream that Destiel isn't real because it "isn't canon" as if that's a huge problem - again, have they never been in any other fandom in their lives???? Who cares if its canon!!! (Destiel is though btw)

I think the rampant homophobia dressed up as whinging about the precious canon is just getting to me. Go and be hateful and disgusting somewhere else. If I see one more person comment on something to do with Destiel and say 'I don't see it' I will leap at them like a feral cat

[naturesass]

My new business card is here

[gen4grl]

you would think after all the yapping i do about these losers i would have a plethora of art uploaded … no… so here is my first kantrio post lol

i did these over the last month while watching the olympic weightlifting and jamming to kpop (stan red velvet and kiss of life BTW!!!)

[kazxraval]

Emre blew the dust off the people who had been packed away for a long time. From another lifetime, one Kaz rarely thought about. "Fiona liked anyone with an accent. Carmen, she would've shared me I'm sure." Kaz did not remember all the finer details of Emre's massive fuck up with Talia. "She would've loved me," he said with a bruised half-smile (but confidence intact). "You'll remind me of it when we're back, hm. What happened between you two."

Kaz left Emre with quiet thoughts. Maybe Emre hadn't heard those raw words-- what Kaz thought was raw and honest in reality too cryptic, not direct enough. Maybe none of it mattered then. Judgement compromised, Kaz concluded, with a head only for those rain-soaked kisses.

Then they went back to Georgie's swollen eye rolls and dry laughs, as if she clung to some impenetrable secret. Dealing with her as laborious as trying to walk through waist deep mud. Still not as rough as dealing with Ali. However, the afterburner of rage fired up in the kid actually impressed Kaz. Go off, be pissed, do something about it-- Kaz understood to some extent.

I was thinking. And Kaz waited with anticipation. But the answer came not from Emre but from a silent stuttered light, a flash of long roots of lightning in the sky that cast them in blue (a blue similar to the teleport room?) A one one-thousand, two one-thousand passed followed by a crack of thunder...

...and then he found himself on a street corner with Ali. In a neighborhood with a perpetually overcast sky. Kaz watched versions of his siblings ride away, with immature little faces his memory only retained blurry memories of.

The street, the houses, everything smaller and shrunken by time. Horrors once loomed large but now it was Kaz who towered over the banal setting. All the malignancy and pain experienced on this block now rendered impotent through the eyes of a grown man. Ali tugged at Kaz's elbow, 'Do you know them kids on the bikes?' Kaz turned away from the road. "No, I don't."

Pyaari, pyaari. Kaz was just as eager to hold on to Emre. To search Emre for new damage (fuck, did they all look like hell). Kaz barely heard the shouting between a neighbor and dog (what were their names?) and Emre.

"I don't know what happened," he answered before Emre even finished. Ali's reply to Emre's ask also came swiftly, with a hard grab of Emre's arm, weak young hands angrily twisting at the bone.

Meanwhile, Kaz's heart beat fast, too fast, as his eyes scanned vigilant around them. He wrapped an arm around Emre's middle to steer them across the street, towards the inevitable. "What was Georgie looking for?" It. What could it be?

"I didn't even notice the tug." Probably wouldn't notice a piano dropping from the sky on his head either, not then. "You're right. It had to be the teleports." Ali snorted behind them as they walked, with a soft 'teleports, what'.

What's wrong? Plenty. "I think... I think the island is fucking with us." Even off the island. He tried to gauge more by his siblings riding off on bikes, the neighbor prepared for bed, even the night sky. But none of that made sense either.

He pointed to the house Kaz already guided them towards. No lights were on. "This is where I lived in high school. Or. Well, it looks like it. I saw my brother and Ani out here, before you found us. They looked younger, Emre. They saw me too, and didn't seem to recognize me. I know it sounds fucking crazy." So much that Kaz didn't want to finish the thought.

Kaz asked Ali and Emre to wait in the backyard. Predictably, he found a spare key hidden under a rock near the front porch. After a sweep through the house, he let Ali and Emre inside.

The living room was small and neat. A bookshelf housed an older television and stereo equipment. A pillow from a bed seemed out of place doubled over in the corner of the couch, fresh head imprint left behind. A single family photo sat on the bookshelf, with a much younger version of Kaz and the twins as toddlers held in the arms of each parent. Ali slowly walked over to the framed photograph. "Don't touch anything, we'll be right back."

Kaz waved for Emre to follow him into the kitchen. Everything there appeared orderly and clean too. Appliances were older, the common whites and blacks of the 1990s. The digital clock on a microwave read 0:00 as the time.

Dishes sat in a rack beside the sink, an empty pressure cooker waited to be used again on another counter. Despite the lack of food present, typical aromatic scents of cumin, coriander, and turmeric bloomed in oil hung in the air. A discreet altar was in the easterly corner. A joyous garland of marigolds was on the floor beside it, as if it had been haphazardly thrown, dropped, or knocked over.

Kaz turned on the kitchen sink and cupped a hand of water to gulp down. He motioned to Emre to do the same. "We'll grab some food to take, get cleaned up quick. Do you need any clothes?" He looked Emre over for the millionth time. "I don't know what this is. A trick. If we've really been somehow thrown back in time. Because, like. Some of this doesn't look exactly right. Like it's set dressing or something." Those sparks Emre mentioned. "What do you think is happening? And the sparks, were they from the ship?"

"My mother's car is in the garage. I found the keys." The unnerving question: why was her car there but she wasn't? "There's a shed in the back yard, you probably saw it. We could hide out there a few hours. Get some sleep. Then take off in the car." What to expect was completely unknown. Kaz wondered if it was even real.

He peered around the corner at Ali, who was holding the photo and staring intently at Kaz's mother in the picture. "Hey, I told you not to touch anything you little freak. Put that back." Ali scowled, but returned the photo to the shelf. Then the kid bolted towards a staircase, feet stomping heavily as he took the flight up.

"Get back here!" Kaz grumbled, and then took Emre's hand. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Upstairs, Ali clearly found Kaz's room, as the sound of an out of tune and aggressively strummed acoustic guitar came from down the hall. "Gonna break that kid's hand if he doesn't stop. Nosey little bastard." But first, he led Emre to a bathroom. Kaz turned on a light and froze at the sight of him. Of both of them in the stark fluorescent lights.

The thought of even washing his face suddenly felt akin to climbing Everest. He looked from his own reflection to Emre's. Clothes torn, skin covered in welts, hair tangled and glued with sweat and sea water to his forehead. Faces caked in the scarlet of blood splatter. "Emre," he began, voice low in a whisper, "How many people did I kill?"

"I want -" Was it what Emre wanted? No. Yes, maybe. "I'd want to meet them." Did he? Kaz had mates, and he'd cared about them and vice versa. Would Emre want to meet them, then? Now he'd said it, so he might as well add, "I wish you could meet Tiz. I wish Tiz would want to meet me up again," he added with a slight snort. No more bitterness, just realistic. If Talia was even still alive. "Carmen and Fiona, yeah? Sweet names, that."

They were the lucky ones. It was a lot to fathom, especially when Emre's thoughts kept circling back to Iyaz. Who kept reassuring Emre over occasional texts that he was happy off the island, with Peter. Emre grit his teeth. "Proper frustrating."

Kaz insisted he wasn't punished, adding a quip to make it real, and Emre didn't persist. His tough man, his Kaz. Or maybe Emre just picked the wrong word; his tough and nitpicky man, his Kaz. Emre looked up to the rain.

"I don't want you catching cold." See - he could be as pragmatic as Kaz, putting aside (for now) the pretty metaphors of oceanic bonds. But under a steel overhang, rain pounding above them, Kaz caught Emre up again in a flurry of the warmest kisses, the gentlest praise. Emre whimpered into Kaz's mouth, fingers skating Kaz's bruised and bloody face.

More teasing, and Emre shook his head with a hoarse laugh. "I'm waiting to hear your pretty voice first," Emre teased back, as if they were simply caught in a flash storm on a London or Seattle main street. Emre frowned, glancing up at a flash of lightening in the clouds. Where did this rain come from, so sudden? And why did the world keep feeling like it was closing in on them, only for it to be up to them to push the world forward? These stops-and-starts in strange jolts - was it just Emre wanting to hem the world away from him and Kaz, or was it something...bigger?

An undercurrent that pulled them back to Georgie. Who somehow managed to still get under Kaz's skin, say the exact thing to get his attention on her. Attention in the form of Kaz's hurricane anger and retorts, but Georgina got what she wanted. A CV of what Georgina put Kaz through, in crisply listed examples. Emre gave Georgina a smirk. "Old tricks, darling. Not even your fucking mindgames were original then? Sad."

Then back outside again, this time to give Ali the truth. The poor little bastard didn't take to it well; Emre of course, frozen in heartbroken grief, hearing Ali and thinking only of Iyaz. Emre, the older brother who was into shady shit. At any point in Iyaz's young life, Emre could've ended up like Feroze - a beaten, broken, discarded corpse, forgotten and derided in a shallow pool of water and blood. While Emre's killers would then find Iyaz out and tell him in no uncertain terms: you belong to us, now. A palpable, constant fear, a nightmare Emre had jolted awake to, countless times back in London.

Except it wasn't a nightmare, it was a portend. And Emre was the killer. He'd done to Ali, what he'd feared the most for Iyaz.

"I - I was thinking -" Emre stammered, at Kaz's prompt. But he didn't know what to say. Mind blank with a long lost terror, rearing back up in his head. Face warming with anger at killers, all of them including himself. Fortunately, Ali's tantrum was enough of a distraction. Lightening cracked above them again, yet the boat didn't rock in rough waves. "What..."

He watched Kaz's hand on Ali's shoulder. Kaz - how could Kaz be so sweet, so protective of him, yet so uncaring and dismissive to this child? - trying to assure Ali that his brother's killer was actually the man to trust. It was all so much. Emre's head spun. Was Georgina laughing from the bridge? He turned towards the fore, where Captain Frank's body slid forward on the upper deck. And then Emre saw it; and Georgina's cackling turned to a scream.

"Kaz--"! Emre whipped around, but Kaz and Ali were gone. Gone - GONE! Emre bolted to the railing, looking overboard. Nothing in the water. The sun was coming up somewhere, but the rainclouds turned sunrise into a dull grey glow. Except for...what they were sailing right into.

"KAZ!!" Emre swung back up to the bridge, where Georgina was crawling out the other way. "Where is he! What is that?!" Emre grabbed Georgie and pointed out the window in front of the boat. Outside, bright sparks exploded out in the water, up in the sky. Bursts of light like decaying fireworks, that seemed to gobble up water and chunks of boat, before fading, only for more to spark up around them. Closer to them.

"I found it," Georgina' whispered, her ice-blue gaze half-crazed with triumph. "Let me go you idiot! I found - wait." Georgie stopped struggling in Emre's grip, stared at him. "It's you. You and Kaz, you made this happen! You caused this, however you got here! You're gonna take me with you. Back to the beach. Kaz! Kaz, we're coming sweetie!"

Georgina wouldn't let Emre go, tried to carry him with her; Emre wrestled to both take control of Georgina and drag her, not the other way around. The pair slipping and sliding on the wet, bloody deck until Emre gave a roar as he pushed her hard. But he lost his balance too, stumbling back as his arse hit the railing and his feet gave way. He blinked, expecting a fall into the drink.

But instead, Emre just opened his eyes to a...fence. Mown grass on his cheek. A scream from above; Emre pushed up on his arms to find not Georgie, but a stranger. An older woman clinging to her backyard clothesline, edging away from him. "Get lost! Go away!" she screamed, flicking a shirt at him.

"Going, I'm gone!" Emre scrambled to his feet and ran, hurdling over the fence (not effortlessly; not like his scrumping days) and ending up in a cul-de-sac. All clean, large (to Emre) yards and homes, a curated suburbia that seemed specific to America.

It was twilight, no rain. No boat. No Georgina. Then - 'EM!'

A cracked, urgent call of Emre's personal siren, the vocal culmination of immense relief. Emre pivoted to find Kaz staggering towards him, dragging Ali along. The little youth looked in shock, Kaz looked even worse for the wear under the yellow streetlamp of middle-class civilisation. Emre bolted forward to hold onto Kaz. "Pyaari, pyaari."

A porch light went on, and a man in a dressing gown opened his door so he and his toy poodle could yell at them. "Quiet down, you crazy kids! Get outta here!"

"Leave it, alright! Geezer!" Emre shot back, despite probably being the same age as the man. Who huffed and shut the door, because Emre was already slinging his arm around Kaz, to walk them away. "C'mon. Kaz..." Emre's tone wary, uneasy. "What the fuck happened. We were on the boat and then - then you and Ali disappeared, yeah. Georgina started going on about 'finding it' and that we was the cause of these...these bright lights in the sky and water. Bursts of them, like sparks from a car."

A pause and then Emre recalled. "I felt the tug in me, you know. Like - like the tug of the teleport, when it drags us back? But I've never seen those strange bursts of light before. One flashed right in front of me - then I ended up here." He looked up at Kaz. "Fucking hell, man. We can't keep losing each other. And we need to find you somewhere to rest."

Emre tipped his head, glancing at Ali. "Oi, younger. You alright?"

Ali didn't respond, but just kept walking, holding onto Kaz's larger hand with both of his. The boy seemed alright despite...despite everything. Emre's first priority was Kaz. "Where the bloody hell are we now. Did the teleports take us here, instead of home? Kaz..." Emre finally then looked at Kaz, under a streetlight. The familiar implacable stony-face, and yet. Emre had gazed lovingly, longingly, fascinated by that face for long enough to know: something was off. "Something, right. What's wrong?"

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[deadbaguette]

Iliad Orchestra AU and I’m thinking very hard about what instruments everyone would be

I am very open to suggestions for who would play what instrument 🙏

[hayakawapartner]

aki with a s/o with chronic pain . . .

!!! this post is sfw, but minors/ageless blogs dni with this post/blog !!!

notes: gn!disabled!reader, this is self indulgent i tried to make this fitting for more general chronic pain! reader might come across as ehlers danlos-coded (is that a thing?? weird thing for me to type)

aki is already so sweet and caring with you, of course he would be helpful when your chronic pain flares up.

he notices that you’re moving a bit slower, taking shorter steps, taking a longer time to get up from your seat… and he’s immediately there to help

VERY quick to ask what you need, but he also tries to offer your usual solutions

“where does it hurt? do you need a heating pad? painkillers? tiger balm? do you want me to run a warm bath?”

if you have fluctuating mobility/occasionally use a mobility aid, he does his best to keep everything in a convenient spot for you. crutches near the bed so you can slide your arms in and get up with a bit more ease, rollator in a place where you don’t trip but it’s easy to access…

he was initially Overly Careful with you so he didn’t aggravate your pain further, but as he grows used to your needs, he’s still careful but he’s not scared of breaking you like he used to be

kisses the back of your neck while gently massaging your sore joints/muscles, murmuring soft “i love you”s and “you’re gonna be okay”s while he’s rubbing tiger balm onto your sorest spots

if he hears your joints pop he gets really nervous until you specify if it was a good/bad pop

if a spot is too sore, he won’t touch it in case he hurts you even more.

and if you just Can’t get out of bed for the day? he calls off from work to take care of you. brings you comfort food, helps you to the bathroom when you need it, makes sure you’re hydrated and taking your meds…

SPEAKING OF MEDS. this man is so good at reminding you

“did you forget to take your meds? maybe you should take them now, love. it’ll help you feel less sore.”

he’s very careful to make sure he doesn’t shame you for forgetting meds, for needing help, for being in pain. he just does whatever he can to make sure you’re okay and empathises with your complaints about your aches.

while he hates seeing you in pain during a flare-up, he becomes extra doting just to make sure your needs are met. cooks your fav comfort meal, makes sure all your pillows are soft and arranged to keep you comfy, refills your water bottle whenever it’s almost empty, etc.

he’s just so loving… aaauuuu

[rubiisangry]

Been watching alot of lolirock recently and I'm absolutely OBSESSED with the art style so I decided to try it myself ^^

(srry for the bad image quality )

[beevean]

Sonic and the Black Knight

With Me ~Massive Power Mix~

[chronicbeans]

I just took one look at the Candle Cove Wiki, and have gotten the feeling of "OMG I don't feel like I'll be able to catch up nor am I sure I want to"...

So, massive respect to all you Wiki Cove folks, especially the ones that got there late. You have some massive imagination and ability to read an entire wiki to catch up to the lore there. Gonna sit here with my interpretations of the characters.

Hough I HAVE read the page for Percy to see how different the interpretations are, and from what I've seen it is silly how different they are. This is exactly what I love about interpretations of characters from completely different parts of fandoms.

Wiki Percy: "EEP! Scary! Get away! I gotta knife!"

My Percy: "I've drank five mugs of root beer. The world is spinning and I'm hearing voices."

[alicedrawslesmis]

like. technically if you count the Dallas Theatre Centre bootleg I watched 5 different versions of the les mis musical. And if you count our own amateur version we did in 2013 that would make it 6. wow

[inklingofadream]

mag141 is like a complete mystery to me every time. jon and basira on boat to ny alesund, floyd matharu, one of basira's most frustrating bits of hypocrisy. the content of the statement? naw. Mikaele salesa? never heard of im. mikaele salesa dying? aw man forgot he did that.

just. nothing. every time.

[sophiethewitch1]

kinda wanna write a fic where the dog is literally the deus ex machina

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

[cannedquokka]

What a phenomenal game.

Bomb Rush Cyberfunk was everything I wanted and more. As an OG fan of Jet Set Radio, and a diehard fan of Future, this was just...beautiful.

Please go play this game.