#pre- or post-empire even

[sirenalpha]

The Fire Nation is not fascist

words have meanings and you should use them correctly even when applying them to fiction

not all authoritarian governments are fascist even when militarized and just because you don't like that government that doesn't automatically make it fascist

the Fire Nation in the time of atla is more akin to the British Empire as it was an industrializing colonial empire than any fascist regime, Sozin's comments prior to the war harken more to white man's burden than fascism

that's also a very bad thing, you can just say that and be accurate, you don't have to reach for fascism

there are multiple ways you can look at the Fire Nation as it is portrayed within atla and see that it is not fascist

the Fire Nation is an absolute monarchy

fascist regimes are dictatorships

the Fire Nation has never had a period of democracy

fascist regimes are post democratic often initially winning power through democratic elections

the Fire Nation has no corporations, as far as can be assumed from the show everything related to industrialization might just be owned by the state (military)/the monarchy from all the ship building rigs to the factory blown up in The Painted Lady, the only people who might even be merchants are the Bei Fongs but they're still nobles so potentially all their wealth is from their land and holdings not through trade, the Fire Nation could genuinely just still be feudal and have an underdeveloped merchant class if everything trade related is getting funneled through the military/state

fascist regimes are extremely corporatist, they don't believe in public ownership, public goods, public services, anything that can be sold off to corporations and private interest will be, they go for extreme privitization

I think you could even argue that the Fire Nation is not industrialized enough to be fascist either, when the gaang is traveling through the Fire Nation it's basically as rural and pre-industrial as the Earth Kingdom there's like one factory in all of the Fire Nation, and even the Caldera seems pretty pre-industrial, there are no factories, no modern housing/aprtment buildings, no smog and pollution, only the military seems to be industrialized at all with tanks, metal ships, air balloons, and jet skis

and if you take a more ideological lens and compare it to Eco's Ur-Fascism while whether the Fire Nation meets the requirements are more debatable on some of his 14 points than others based on what you can assume from what is shown, others are outright impossible in the Fire Nation and atla world, and some the Fire Nation straight up doesn't meet the requirements for (the ones I don't mention here you can assume the FN does meet them enough though again some are more debatable than others)

-rejection of modernism

this is impossible in the Fire Nation and atla because as far as we can tell there is no period of Enlightenment or even a modernism to reject and you could maybe even argue the Fire Nation might be the ones embracing anything approaching modernism as they were the ones to hire the mechanist but that's very little proof to go on especially as it's for the war machine which is one technology fascists do go for

-appeal to a frustrated middle class

again no corporation or move to capitalism or any merchants or businessmen, hard to say a middle class even exists in the Fire Nation, there's a middle ring in Ba Sing Se but the Fire Nation seems split between nobles and commoners with no middle ground

-obsession with a plot

so I wouldn't say the Fire Nation has no obsession with a plot as they're doing the whole white man's burden equivalent and wanting to 'share their greatness' with the world but the plot fascists are obsessed with are internal enemies aka being anti-semitic and suspicious of Jewish people and while yes the Fire Nation tells lies about Air Nomads they're all convinced every single one of them are dead, they're not internal enemies, there are no internal enemies of the Fire Nation and this ties into the next point

-at the same time too strong and too weak

because there's no internal enemies to stamp out and be fearful of and they're winning a global war, there's no sense from the Fire Nation that they think they're too strong and too weak, they only think they are strong, so strong in fact as to be deserving of ruling the world, this is Azula's entire argument for her coup in Ba Sing Se, she as a member of Fire Nation royalty has the divine right to rule that is unquestionable

-machismo

now I'm not saying there's no sexism in the Fire Nation, they're clearly led by men in the monarchy military and in organized religion, but they might be the least sexist of the existing nations aside from Kyoshi, the Water Tribes obviously have sexism as exhibited by the male power structure, arranged marriages, and preventing female waterbenders from gaining martial skill, the Earth Kingdom in atla only shows male rulers whether kings or Dai Li and Toph's the only female earthbender and she learned it so far outside the system she didn't even learn from a human and their military is also entirely male, the Fire Nation however has female soldiers and guards, teaches female firebenders to bend and female nonbenders can also learn martial skill, and yeah Azula and her friends might just be getting lee way as nobles but literally no one belittles them or remarks upon it in anyway whereas Katara and Toph are definitely remarked upon (though Toph not solely for being a girl)

also Fire Nation noble teen girls can casually date like I get it's a kid's show and maybe they're not thinking deeply on this but they made it explicit that Yue was already betrothed and could not casually date at around the same age Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai are casually dating or trying to date without any mention of betrothals or arranged marriages and without any apparent risk to their personal reputations (yes Mai's dating Zuko is politically and likely financially advantageous to her family or could potentially have been spurred by Azula to keep track of Zuko but as far as we know from canon this is entirely Mai's choice and is in fact casual dating)

-selective populism

the Fire Nation royalty do not give a shit about the will of the people, their positions are for them and to be used how they wish to use them, they do not see themselves as the interpreter of popular will because they don't need it for legitimacy and authority in place of a democratically elected government, they are monarchs with a divine right to rule in a world of other monarchs

-newspeak

there's no evidence the Fire Nation employs this at all, they lie sure especially about the Air Nomads, but they don't invent new jargon to limit critical thinking (they kinda don't need to Ozai and Azula are abusive and manipulative enough on their own they can do it with normal language)

the Fire Nation just does not match the profile of a fascist regime enough ideologically or otherwise to be comfortably calling it fascist or treat it as a matter of fact in fandom

and if you're going to make the argument well they just couldn't show you everything like multiple factories and corporations or a middle class in the Fire Nation due to time limits so actually you can safely assume it is fascist

no, anything beyond what they DID show is headcanon and what IS canon does not lend itself to an argument that the Fire Nation actually is fascist

the monarchy, lack of democracy ever, and what Fire Nation characters have said about the country and its stated goals are canon and point towards an industrializing colonial empire that's not as sexist as it could be

[bitegore]

Moth Jedao has suffered more than god huh

[shidoukanae]

also now realizing there's a heavy possibility that the unknown event Daniel references where he asks Lyla "how are you going to find your happiness?" is the same event Helene references when she tells Lyla that Lyla "betrayed" her.

Coincidentally, that's probably the same event that allowed Helene to be manipulated by the Empress into turning against Lyla and might have been the cause of Daniel leaving Lyla (probably to find out how to awaken as a dragon so he could gain the power to take her away from her family faster? maybe even going so far as to try and compete w/ Paris for the throne if it means protecting Lyla?)

There's also a suspicious gap of time from when Helene was poisoned to when she told Lyla to get away from her that has been omitted. And considering baby Lyla cries about Helene not wanting to be with her anymore...and that same baby Lyla is seen hugging Daniel in the unexplored scene...Lyla what the fuck did you do to Helene to embitter her like this?

[autolenaphilia]

The anti-kink moral crusade rests on a lot of transmisogynistic assumptions.

Of course it’s no surprise, since it rests on ideas from the moralizing arguments about bdsm made by radfems in the 70s. The only change is that they are being massively hypocritical and inconsistent about which kinks are bad now, as I pointed out before. Now it’s only certain kinks, like consensual non-consent and fauxcest, that are bad because they “fetishize abuse”, and not bdsm as whole, despite that being inarguably true about bdsm.

And that’s purely to broaden the appeal of such arguments, so that even self-described “leatherfags” can moralize about fauxcest. The morals and principles are frankly just “It’s okay if gay men call their boyfriends “daddy”, because I find that hot, but if a trans lesbian couples pretend to be sisters it’s evil.”

And you can’t really appropriate the radfem arguments about kink without taking their transmisogyny onboard, since they stem from the same transmisogynist bio-determinist root ideology. Janice Raymond in The Transsexual Empire explained trans women through a lens of pathological sadomasochism. Years before Blanchard’s autogynephilia concept, radfems have seen transfemininity and kink as the same thing.

The image of the trans woman painted by radfems then and now, is of privileged males appropriating the pain and suffering of real wombyn, and playacting this suffering for their own perverted sexual amusement. And that is the same image painted of trans women with incest and cnc kinks in modern callout posts. They just remove the explicitly terfy language to make it less obvious. Instead of making a mockery of misogyny in general, we are instead accused of mocking the experiences of the survivors of sexual abuse.

And that boils down to the same thing. Survivors of sexual assault are often as a group assumed to be afab. This ties into a specific transmisogynist discourse. It’s one that argues that afab children are more often sexually assaulted, and that trans women are not targeted by sexual violence pre-transition, and comes to the conclusion that this proves that trans women are male socialized and privileged. This is the fairly nasty transmisogynist undercurrent here.

And it’s proven when in discussions about the transmisogyny of callout culture, a common cliché line in response is that “clearly some people’s worst oppression is being told they are freaks for shipping incest.” This treats transfems as ultra-privileged and transmisogyny as not real at all.

Of course in reality, transfems are disproportionate targets of sexual violence even in childhood and pre-transition. And many survivors of childhood abuse have these problematic abuse-fetishizing kinks, and use it to deal with their trauma, including many of the kinky transfems being called out.

And even if no one involved in the sexual roleplay and fiction being criticized have trauma, the trauma of other non-involved people is not a good argument for its destruction. It’s a reasonable demand to ask for triggering material to be tagged properly so you can avoid it, it’s unreasonable to demand it shouldn’t exist.

Yet transfems are expected to accede to the latter demand. And I think this is because of what May Peterson calls transfeminized debt. It’s how we trans women in feminist circles are expected to be perfect women and perfect feminists to be acknowledged as women at all, instead of as monsters to be destroyed. Of course because nobody is perfect, this leads to every trans woman eventually being thought of as a monster.

We are treated as having to pay off the debt of male socialization/privilege to get basic human rights. And this in practice means conceding every disagreement with TME people, and agreeing to every demand they make of us. Or else we get the hot allostatic load treatment.

And that’s why kinky transfems are expected to fulfil the ridiculous demand from certain puritanical TME people that “I’m not involved in your kink, but I have trauma relating to it, so you can’t do it.” And are treated as evil monsters for not fulfilling it. It’s clearly transfeminized debt and transmisogyny, we are treated as privileged perverted monsters, inherently exempt from sexual violence. And that is used to justify sexual harassment, in the form of callout posts for our sex lives.

[wlntrsldler]

blurb based on this post.

pre-claiming, pre-betrayal, luke castellan x poseidon!reader, fluff.

while i bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love and insurmountable grief.

“rumor has it, capture the flag is coming up,” luke said. he was ripping blades of grass from beside him as his head laid on your stomach. he was facing the blue sky, letting the droplets of water roll off his bare skin.

you’d just emerged from your impromptu dip in the lake to escape the growing heat of summer. you had his camp shirt on top of your body, finding the faint scent of his cologne on the neckline of the shirt comforting. “already? they’re really trying to get us at each other’s throats as soon as possible.”

“yeah,” he scoffed. he rolled his head to face you. “it’s beth’s turn to come up with a strategy.”

there was pride in his eyes, like there always was when he talked about annabeth. you wondered if you had the same sparkle when you talked about her too. it was hard not to be proud of annabeth. after all, you’d known her since she was seven, when you, luke, and thalia found her wandering alone.

you tried not to think of those days too much. those days were painful and lonely; unfair that children were left to fend for themselves. even though you and luke were the oldest of the bunch, you were still just fourteen. at fourteen, you should’ve been dreading the perils of freshman year of high school, not wondering if you’d be fortunate enough to reach sixteen.

“how’s percy holding up?” you asked. your fingers tugged on a strand of hair that was bouncing back into his usual curls. you felt luke soften at your touch.

“he’s doing okay,” luke answered after a beat. “as well as anyone would be after finding out.”

“he’s a tough one, i can tell,” you replied. you attempted to move your hand from luke’s hair, but he held it in place. you complied, starting to rub his scalp. “has he been claimed yet?”

“no, he hasn’t.”

the topic of being claimed was a touchy subject for you as an unclaimed child. the first few months at camp, you had your hopes that your time was coming soon. your godly parent had to claim you eventually, right? but as the months turned into a year and a year turned into five, you lost all hope. somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that you made peace with it.

luke, on the other hand, never did. there were many things he hated about the gods. most of it were general things that made sense; neglecting their children, having them do their dirty work, making them go on dangerous quests where they’re likely to get killed; but the thing that he hated them for the most was that they made you feel unworthy of being acknowledged.

to everyone else at camp, they saw you as someone who beat the odds despite not knowing who your godly parent was. you became a skilled swordsman, coming second only to luke, skilled at archery, and such an incredible leader, but luke didn’t attribute that to your godly parent. he attributed that to your character. your greatness had nothing to do with the gods.

but luke also knew you better than anyone else. he knew that even though you acted like you didn’t care about being claimed, there was still a part of you that stayed fourteen, that stayed hopeful, that one day your parent would claim you.

luke let his lips linger on your hipbone, a reminder that he was still there, as if trying to convince you that while your parent didn’t care enough to claim you, he did. he would shout it from every rooftop, if he could. in fact, on the trip to olympus, he stood at the top of the empire state building and declared his love for you.

chiron, who was forced to discipline him for his antics, banned him for getting dessert for two weeks, but sent you a sly wink as he was telling luke his punishment. you didn’t comment about how you managed to be given two desserts ‘accidentally’ everyday during luke’s punishment.

“we should probably head back soon,” you mumbled, though you made no effort to get up. luke snuggled deeper into you from where he laid. “it’s almost dinner.”

“yeah,” luke sighed. “you’re probably right.”

neither of you made it to dinner, but grover managed to sneak the both of you a handful of strawberries to eat.

[mesetacadre]

What might decolonization in the US after a successful socialist revolution look like? Would there be one big government still? A sort of union of socialist republics? Something else entirely? Honestly I don't know how to ask.

Post-revolutionary decolonization (and realistically, the only kind of meaningful decolonization that is ever happening) in the US is a complicated matter given the relative success of the USAmerican genocidal project. The native population is 1.1% of the total population as of the 2020 census, this means that unlike in other, incomplete, settler projects such as the Sahrawi Republic or Palestine, it isn't feasible to restore the relation of the native population to the totality of the country. Regardless of population proportions though, the main focus of socialist decolonization is the struggle against any conflict between nationalities by removing the economic basis of that antagonism, which would then allow to also begin to remove the cultural elements that reinforced that dynamic of oppression. The focus is not to create more landlords but native, it's to remove the structure around private property in general, and make sure every worker, native or otherwise, receives as is needed. Taking into account the already relative dispossession of native people even before a pre-revolution context, there will have to be a great effort to bring the conditions of native people at the same level of non-native people.

Regarding the form of the new state, this will evidently depend on the form of the US state as the revolution happens. In other countries this would not be such a pressing question, but given the role and strength of the USAmerican bourgeoisie, it's not hard to believe that for any revolution to take place, the US state would need to be considerably weakened. Keeping this in mind, the strategy followed by all hitherto socialist revolutions is to not further fragment the new state. Given the complexity of navigating the construction of the first elements of a socialist economy, with the simultaneous effort needed for security, it would be both counterproductive and hypocritical to explicitly seek the independence of a portion of the population, as a part of the political program, it would be taking two steps forward and one step back. The communist revolution is national in form, because it happens within the structure of the capitalist state, but it is also international in content, because it explicitly repudiates the division of the proletariat along national lines.

We must understand that nationality, as much as it is relevant today and as much as it influences the course of history, is a byproduct of the development of capitalism, and that since it arose from the infrastructure to justify and protect it, it will also have to seize to exist and be replaced with proletarian internationalism for the duration of the transition to socialism-communism. Keeping this in mind, it would be hypocritical and regressive to, after taking control of the state and beginning the transition away from capitalism, to then turn around and divide the working class of the new country into even more national categories than they already are divided into.

The early USSR is a good comparison because of the sheer quantity of national diversity contained within the bounds of the corpse of the Tsarist Empire. The policy of the bolsheviks was neither of Russian supremacy or of immediate splintering into hundreds of nation states. Even during the very complicated and desperate context of the civil war, Finland was allowed its independence without much fuss from the CC, even if they were immediately incorporated into the German sphere via Von Mannerheim. When the 1936 constitution was being discussed, it was Stalin himself who went against the wishes of many bolsheviks to prevent the republics from gaining independence if they wished. No republics requested this however, because the oppressive mechanisms of capitalism and feudalism that had kept them under the Tsar's thumb for centuries had been replaced with an economic system that assured the equal development of all peoples within the USSR. The USSR itself was also not absolutely centralist, and the many constituent republics had varying degrees of autonomy, reflecting in some aspects the structure of democratic centralism.

I don't think the answer is to replicate the USSR, of course. The context and general state of things are very different, but there are lessons to be learnt from this successful, albeit flawed, tackling of the national question. Again though, we can't really speculate on the way that the US will look right before a revolution, and consequently the structures and problems a revolutionary government will have to start from.

[eatommo]

Hotshot [c.f.99]

CW: Poly!batchxreader, group sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m&f recieving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, vaginal and anal creampie, multiple partners, cumshots, anal sex, ass eating, spanking, praise, authority kink, cucking? kinda?, implied recording of sex, mention of weapons, mentions of aftercare, overstimulation, post season 7 pre omega, dom/sub dynamics, allusions to subspace, slight degradation, shower sex, mutual pining lots of kissing, no clonecest, liberties for hunter's tattoo, reader has hair long enough to pull, reader gets picked up and carried, i probably missed something let me know!

A/N: 5.6k of pure smut, absolutely no plot here. All mistakes are mine, repost and let me know what/if you like <3

As you climb the steps to the Marauder, something about this mission feels different.  It's been months since you've been away from the boys, and almost as long since you cared.  

Since running away from the clutches of the empire and charming your way aboard the ship you've become an asset to the team even in just your companionship, but it was also nice to have someone around who wasn't a clone.  It made it that much easier to do recon, and also that much easier to infiltrate a group because your face wasn't spread across every corner of the Empire. 

However, the longer you stayed with them, the more you valued what made them different.  You learned who to go to for help with blaster trouble, and even learned to overlook Crosshair’s slights during your target practice.  You’ve also learned that Hunter was sensitive to flowers and strong scents and that he had the best-smelling soap aboard the ship (and never seemed to mind when you used it). Tech, on the other hand, was always great at making you feel included, but was always, always going to double-check anything you did to the ship ‘just in case.’ Echo might've been one of the most interesting people to talk to, during his work with the 501st and the glory days of working alongside some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy he saw many planets and cultures that you had only dreamed about.   Wrecker, well, he was a big softy despite his talent for demolitions and overall penchant for violence, he was the first to volunteer to take you out and stretch your legs in a nearby city and to help you bring home rations (and a sweet treat or two) for the rest of the crew, and has even carried you home from cantina trips a time or two. 

They were closer than any other troop you'd seen, all depending and working so tightly and neatly together you'd think that adding you to the mix would complicate things but all you seemed to do was fit in like sand in the desert.   You fell into a routine, they'd leave you at the ship during more dangerous jobs, typically with Echo or Tech at your side to assist with any repairs as you kept the inside of the ship in order, and kept a close eye on any equipment and prepping rations and meals as they became available. 

After a stop on Batuu, in which you fought every urge to procure a Loth cat, instead letting Crosshair buy you a long thin vibroblade to appease you.  “I haven't given up by the way.” You shout over your shoulder, as you settle into your seat before the others.  

“I've thought so.” Tech, his voice more amused than anything.  “Let us not berate the woman so that she uses that thing on us, shall we? We are cleared for takeoff.” Wrecker chuckles at the idea of you brandishing the thin blade to any of them.  You could hold your own for sure, but you were no ARC trooper. 

You settle aboard, staying seated until you reach the upper atmosphere, locking your cloak away with your blade, settling back into the seat near the cockpit, and resting your head against the wall.   

“If you need rest, my bunk is open,”  Wrecker whispers his words and his voice contradicting each other.  He's gruff but his speech is soft like he's afraid to startle you, he's cleaning his blaster but leans forward to speak softly to you. “It's still the biggest bunk.” He smiles and with his helmet in his lap, you can see the intense scaring over the side of his head, and your fingers twitch at your side begging to caress it.

“I'm fine thank you.”  You beam at him surprised by the crack in your voice and not wanting to seem ungrateful for the gesture.  “I’m quite content out here.”  Wrecker blushes, as if embarrassed he even brought it up.  

You can hear the audible judgemental breath of Crosshair even from your position behind his back, as he examines his rifle, something amiss and there's a thick tension in the room you can't quite place.  Glancing around as they settle in for take-off, none of them seem to want to meet your eyes.  

“I didn't expect you all to get so shy, I thought maybe you were starting to warm up to me.”   You let your voice trail off, a hint of a tease that cuts into the thick tension in the air for a brief moment. Before Hunter sharply stands up and lets his feet carry him towards you.  

Last night’s mission for Rex was messier than any of you had expected and used up the last of your bacta supply.  Hence the trip to Batuu, and what you thought was a tense conversation about purpose or authority between the group.  You’d overheard something about keeping secrets when you’d greeted them at the ship’s ramp and the pinched nerve in Hunter’s jaw encouraged you to keep your mouth shut.  Since the tension between each of them has been as taught and dangerous as a tightrope.  As the long-haired clone approached you, you sat straighter, already apologizing for being difficult before he cut you off. 

Leaning down until he is practically whispering in your ear, "We are programmed to be professional first and foremost. And we are not always so shy."

Just sharing your space with him has your body reacting to him, vibrating in both fear and a sneaking feeling of arousal.  His breath is hot and you turn to look into his dark brown eyes, eyes you should be so familiar with. “I am not an officer, I do not bite, and there's no reason to be formal.” the sentence comes out as a squeak, and you try to hide embarrassment flashing through your cheeks. 

He smiles, his voice dips lower but is so soft you swear you can feel his words caress your skin, “Easy hotshot, we might like a woman who bites.”

Oh, oh wow. We.

In an instant, everything and all your feelings about them shift and change.  You spent the last few rotations convincing yourself it was normal to feel bubbly around them, they'd saved you, and they were providing for you.  This feeling, the unmistakable pull of longing and need in the pit of your belly, would complicate things.  

Hunter stands and departs the conversation with an ease you envy.  You take a deep breath and compose yourself just to look up and see the rest of the crew watching you, like a wounded animal, you catch just a glimmer of a blush in Echo’s face.  

Rex mentioned they were a tight-knit group he seemed shocked you fell in line with them, but hell you didn't expect this.  Each of them is in their thoughts as you glance around the ship.  Echo and Tech are busying themselves with the controls, but you can see Echo worrying his lip, and Tech turning his head to glance at you every few moments as if wondering what will happen first.  Or rather who?  

Crosshair stares at you, blankly like he's trying to read every line in your smile or every wrinkle in your clothes, your eyes click together and he smiles like a lothcat with a womprat in his teeth. “You're not intimidated by us?”  It's almost as if he's as shocked as the fact itself,   there's a cutting edge to the statement like you should be, and then a corner of his mouth turns up. “You like being here,” he tests the statement as if tasting the fact on his tongue, “with all of us.”

You smirk, doing your best to match the heat in his stare, “I am grateful. I've never felt so important or wanted,” you swallow thickly letting the heat in your body you know Hunter can sense, speak for itself,   “At least, not yet.” You shift in your seat glancing up at Hunter who is glaring hungrily at your chest as if he could hear your heart leap in your chest with every passing moment.  

 You glance up to the stars ahead of the ship, Tech looks like he's preparing the ship to jump to light speed.  The return mission, at its worst, should only take a few days and even less of that is travel, normally you're not one for long lightspeed trips but this time you wonder if it will be too short.

The way the crew looks at you makes your skin tingle, not sure if you’ve ever been paid this much attention before.  As the ship lurches into hyperspace, you let your head lull back to catch Hunter's attention, peering up towards his face as your chin hovers just a foot away from his codpiece.  

Doing your best to keep your breath even, a part of you wishes to stand and kiss him, but this time it’s your turn to feel shy.  You stand, brushing your chest across Hunter’s’ and waltzing over to lean against the control panel of the ship and the two quieter clones on this ship.

The moment Tech realizes you’re moving towards him his posture is stuck straight, but Echo only leans slightly towards you as you pass your hand over his shoulder.  Standing at the front of the ship has only allowed them all to stare at you, your heart skips a beat.  You see Hunter’s eye twitch, he is reading you like a book.

“Well,” you speak slowly and eloquently, playing into their curiosity, “How should we pass the time?”

“Come here.” the room's attention snaps to Crosshair, whose red-hot gaze is marring into your skin. Silence falls over the craft as Crosshair lifts a hand and gestures toward his empty waiting lap.   Slowly, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker turn again towards you but Hunter stays strong locked into some silent dialogue with his brother.  

You feel as if it is entirely dangerous to cross the space between the two. Yet your feet carry you without worry, and neither of them breaks until their vision is obstructed by your body. You turn facing the softened expression in Hunter’s eyes, and slowly lower yourself onto Crosshair's lap.  

Placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself, you lean back until your head is resting on his chest and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Good girl.” 

His whispers send shivers down your spine and Hunter sinks to his knees in front of you, as Cross removes your shirt from over your head and the rest of the Batch descends upon you like wolves.  

As Hunter’s face presses against the softness of your hip, Tech's teeth graze your neck and Wrecker's hands smooth over your nipples, you're overwhelmed at their strength.  These are battle-hardened soldiers, Crosshair runs a calloused finger down your spine, and you're reminded how soft you are.  Your skin is plush and comforts all of Hunter’s senses as the boys proceed to lose themselves upon you, you're reminded of the comfort they provide for you, a safety net you never knew you craved and the appetite you never knew could become so hungry.  

Your canvas pants are ripped down the leg by Wrecker and Hunter’s combined efforts, the sound almost drowned out by a collection of panting wanton noises, and the scraps hit the floor out of sight.  

Hunter noses across the top of your panties, letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin of your pussy as you feel Cross shift his hips and push his hard cock into your ass.  All of them are in full armor, save for the helmets, yet you lie strewn out before them slick pooling in your panties as they take turns pulling pleasure from your body like they serve no higher purpose.  

It's Wrecker who pulls himself from his flight suit first, and you can't remember ever having such a physical reaction to something like this before.  You reach out on instinct, fingers not wrapping completely around his girth and teasing the pink tip until it begins to leak into your palm.  He towers over your head as whimpers and shudders wrack through his body as though he's never been touched.  

You catch a glimpse of Echo, standing slightly off to the side, watching with his pupils fully dilated as he follows the path of Hunter’s mouth on your skin his face flush with crimson.  Tilting your head back you turn towards Crosshair and give him a deep kiss, letting him lick into your mouth feverishly. Hunter’s fingers trace over your seam delicately over the thin fabric of your panties as they grow transparent with your desire.  

Wrecker’s cock is thick and heavy in your hand, and you clench wantingly around nothing, his hips brush into your hand with a tenderness you long to experience. Crosshair snakes a hand up your chest and cradles the thin skin over your throat, chasing Tech’s glancing kisses away,  but taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind your hips against his cock.  

In a few mere movements, the men surrounding you have altered your state of mind and each passing touch coaxes you further into submission.  Tech shifts and lets his breath ghost over your nipples, you turn your head and catch Hunter in a deep kiss noting how different he tastes and feels against you. You let your thumb swipe over the leaking tip of Wrecker's cock, and fight the urge to stuff your fingers in your mouth to taste.  

Hunter breaks the kiss and steps away, letting Echo take his place between your legs but not before using his dagger to cut the hip of your undergarments and stuffing them into one of his pant pockets.  

You blush at the obscenity of it all, but it quickly soothed away but the cool metal of Echo’s headpiece brushing over your thighs. Wordlessly Crosshair adjusts the seat so your pussy is presented to Echo, leaning more onto your back and looking up at the boys devouring your form. 

His mouth is hot, licking softly over your clit as you relax with Crosshair stroking the pulse point in your neck.  You’re slick with arousal and he doesn’t hesitate to lick it up teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

You writhe, letting yourself melt against him, fighting to stay concentrated enough to play with Wrecker’s balls tugging and rolling them beneath your fingers.  Eager to pleasure every one of them.  

Echo’s glove ghosts over your sex, teasing your entrance with a digit, the leather smoothly gliding over your skin. Hunter and Tech each take to stroking down your thighs and holding them in place, “Easy, meshla, we will take good care of you.” 

Your mind is swimming, when did this start? Tech steps a hair closer to your face, tilting your jaw up with his free hand, and slips a finger past your lips. You suck lightly, sure to match the pace at which you’re stroking Wrecker.  You get a praising hum, and Tech surprisingly is the second to drop his pants and pull himself free. Stroking himself to the rhythm of you teasing him with a curl of your tongue.    

It's the tangled moan of you around Tech’s fingers that breaks Crosshair, his pants unbearably tight and each little movement of your hips making him clench his jaw to stave the noises that die in his throat.  He lifts you to your feet, and removes his pants, letting himself spring free.  You have to admit you expected the armor to be harder to take off. 

You stand on unsteady feet, in an attempt to turn your head towards Crosshair, Hunter captures your chin in two fingers locking your eyes together.  “Echo.” A chuckle reverberates between them, all seemingly on board with whatever plan this could be. Echo slides flat onto his back looking up at you and the rest of the boys.  The realization is enough to make you shiver. Your pussy clenches, still empty, but a dripping mess sticks your thighs together.  Hunter’s eyes are burning through your resolve, there’s an intensity you’d come to respect that now sends a spike of fear through you.  “Sit.”

You go to protest but are quickly shut down and you look around at the men surrounding you eagerly but patiently waiting for you to follow his instructions.  Swallowing thickly over the lump in your throat, you sink to your knees and hover a few inches from Echo’s waiting mouth.  From your knees they tower above you, all but Hunter free from their confines.  You get a good look at the three cocks, all weeping and swollen pink across their tip, beautifully complimenting the darker-tanned skin of their shaft.  

Each of them was different, which only slightly surprises you, Wrecker being the thickest, but both Tech and Crosshair meet him in length.  You can feel each breath from Echo’s mouth, knowing you're probably close to dripping across his chin. You lower slowly, afraid to hurt him, until he licks the seam of your entrance savoring the hot flesh and you seek his tongue sitting on his face in earnest.  His mouth brings welcome waves of pleasure as he suckles on your clit.  

They pump themselves slowly, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each shiver.   You start to move your hips in small circles while reaching to palm over Crosshair’s balls and stroking up over his shaft squeezing a bead of precome from the tip.  You open your mouth and glance between them, expecting to see some kind of hierarchy emerge but they take a half step toward you together.  

You opt for taking Tech into your mouth, but only because he's in the middle, letting yourself drool around him as you suck on the thick knot of his cock head, before turning and spitting the excess saliva onto Crosshair’s cock coating it with slick to make your fist glide against him nice and quickly. Tightening around the base and working more of those beautiful precum drips from his leaking tip.  

You snap back to Tech’s cock, tasting the sweat of his skin, and the desire for your body grows with each passing second as he throbs needfully in your mouth.  

Echo is teasing your clit with calculated movements of his tongue, licking around it in sharp purposeful circles, and sucking on it every few passes.  Enough to make your brain fuzz up each time his lips seal around you as Tech nudges the back of your throat to earn a gag.  

You pull off him again, this time gathering the drool in your mouth to cover as much of Wrecker's cock as you physically can.  His cock is so heavy it sways low on his hips thick and so hard your body is already aching for the sting that will accompany the stretch.  You use the thick spit to pump him slower, allowing yourself a moment to admire what has to be the largest you'll ever get the chance to worship. 

The slick sounds are broken with an “Atta girl.”  in the shape of a deep growl from Wrecker’s chest.  He reaches and gathers some drool from your chin and brushes it over your lip and you open instinctively, just as Echo uses his tongue to prod at your entrance.  His praise is as wholesome as his affection for you.

Hunter has taken a seat across from the rest of you, watching as if analyzing each movement of your legs as they quiver from the ravenous pleasure and your throat tightens around the length of Crosshair's shaft.  His thin fingers find purchase at the back of your neck, urging you to sputter around him and the sick squelch just barely audible beneath your moans. 

Echo swiftly plunges two fingers into your pussy, crooking them and stroking deliciously at your g-spot and forcing you to pull yourself away from Crosshair to let your head drop as you fight for composure.  “Let yourself enjoy it little one.  It won’t be your last.” Cross takes the tip of his cock and taps the tip to your tongue.  

You swear, body humming and teetering on the edge before losing yourself to one hellishly explosive orgasm.  It shocks you, body shaking and toes curling against the cool floor as your body burns in the aftershocks Echo works you through it with some tentative kisses to your entrance, and he encourages you to sit up so he can slide out from under you. 

So much of the room is spinning you don’t notice Tech sitting in front of you until you’re kissing him.  His tongue finds yours in a syrupy sweet and methodical kiss as you fight to catch your breath.  Wrecker moves behind you, running his rough hands down your back and palming the flesh of your ass, striking it with a loud slap.  

Tech swallows your gasp, pinching your nipples and pulling them as Wrecker bends you at the waist until you’re scrambling to your hands and knees sucking Tech into your mouth with a compliant and satisfied hum.  

Hunter speaks up, “Turn around.” The trance is broken for the briefest of seconds, and you don't have time to think before they’re turning you so you’re faced with Wrecker’s huge cock and Tech teases your entrance with the tip of his cock.  The passive command that Hunter has over all of you gives you goosebumps, his authority even stronger than the ache they share for you. 

You sink to your elbows, propping your ass up on display and practically begging for Tech to fuck you, pushing back onto the head of his cock, all while blinking away tears as Wrecker’s size makes your jaw ache.  The larger man splays his hand across the back of your head, inciting your thick moans as you work as much of him as you can fit. 

Tech’s hips pitch forward and he’s splitting you open in one fluid deep thrust until your ass is nestled against his hips and he grunts at the eager squeeze of your sex around him. You work your hips in sync with your head the drag of his cock along your walls is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.  He shifts from both knees to one, allowing a deeper thrust to kiss your cervix with a hiss of pain-laced pleasure.  He sets a pace, hips meeting yours in synchronous harmony, and the three of you get lost in each other's pleasure.  

You’re briefly aware of Crosshair stroking himself above you and Hunter is still watching with bated breath as you service his brothers, wondering if you’ll let each of them have a turn or if they’ll need to give you a break.  

Tech snakes a hand around to press a firm thumb against your clit, and a rush of fluid hits the floor of the cargo space that permeates his senses. The sickly sweet smell of your release coats his tongue and he chokes the head of his cock through his clothes to stop him from cumming before he even gets to touch you.  

Your vision is white, and you’re vaguely aware of the spend running down your thighs.  When Tech pulls himself free with a grunt you feel the hot ropes of his cum on your back you whine, feeling ashamed that you long for him to finish inside of you.  You clench around nothing and sit up to look at Wrecker who brushes a hair out of your face.  You kiss him, softly at first, unsure of his comfort with the taste of his precome in your mouth, but he growls and lifts you by your waist, licking into your mouth as he helps you hover over his cock.  

You take advantage of the break, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking the weight off your knees in favor of straddling him. Even in his lap, you’re looking up at him.  Letting gravity do some of the work, you adjust to let him prod at your entrance and sink slowly onto him, the slick warmth of your pussy a welcome substitute for your pretty mouth. 

His chest rumbles beneath yours, groaning as your pussy flutters around him.  You kiss him through a grimace, “Take your time.” He whispers against your mouth, low enough you’re not sure the others hear him.  Heart swelling at the compassion, you let him slowly rock his hips against you, easing his way into your heat and keeping his hands splayed across your hips to support you.  

It’s a slow process, each inch accompanied by breathless and muffled moans followed by kisses and words of endearment.  “You can take it mesh’la.” You’re nearly there, body so in tune with his every word you nearly forgot your showmanship. 

Crosshair is to your right, one hand gripping the base of his cock as precome dribbles and hangs just out of reach from your eager tongue, muttering something in a language you don’t understand. 

You swear you can feel the throb of Wrecker inside of you, and he presses his mouth to your forehead as he pistons his hips slowly angling your body in a way so that he’s moving you along his shaft effortlessly. 

Breathless and spent, you let him.  Being filled by him is almost overwhelming, each push and pull feeling like he's going to split you in half.   He mumbles and groans into your hairline, speaking nonsense in between bitten-off praise.  When his fingers find your clit you all but cry, shaking your head in protest, “Please- I can't.” 

It's Hunter that answers your cries, “You can.” His voice hoarse with need and restraint, “Be a good girl.” Your brow furrows, in concentration, tossing your head back in near agony at the overstimulation. 

Wrecker leans forward and presses his mouth to the column of your throat sucking on the thin skin and leaving a pink welt in his wake.  You feel as if you could explode, not able to hear the sounds of your screams as you shudder and writhe under his touch, against his skin and your body falls slack with the overwhelming pleasure. 

He lifts his face and you catch a pleased smile, like a loth-wolf with its prey in its teeth.  As he throbs and fucks his spend deep into your core.  They all see the muted smile tug at the corner of your mouth as Wrecker cums inside you.  

He holds you for a moment, kissing over the reddish blemish on your throat and waiting for you to make eye contact with him before slipping free with a tangled whimper from both of you.  

Wrecker wraps your legs around him and stands on sturdy legs, you cling to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder hyperaware of the wetness between your thighs. He sets you on Hunter's lap, in your euphoria, he’s lost his pants and sits still in a pair of soft cotton underwear, stark black against his tanned abdomen.  It’s now that you notice his tattoo, so familiar with the portion on his face you never notice how the tattoo bleeds across the entire left side of his body.  

The lines are both clean and elegant, highlighting the rich flawless tone of his figure.  Gorgeously broad shoulders with rippling cords of muscles supporting your cheek as you rest your head lazily and admire him.  Placing a lingering and exhausted kiss to the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck and relishing the warmth of him against your sweat-soaked skin, in the extra cold air of a ship in hyperspace.  

He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching lightly and working every line of tension out of you over a few minutes.  You distantly hear the sound of the fresher’s shower being turned on.  Crosshair is gone, and you fear a pang of regret and pity. 

 Your breath is coming easier by the time, Hunter carries you towards the sound of the water.  Crosshair meets you both under the water’s spray refreshing your senses and soothing the ache of your muscles. You get settled on your feet between them, legs feeling like they’re made of sand, Hunter’s body is pressed tightly to your back, anchoring and steadying you as you greet Crosshair with an inviting kiss. 

He welcomes your touch, all but overtaking your space completely as you get pressed between the two of them and lost to the feeling of their bodies against yours, Hunter nestled into the small of your back and Crosshair’s cock leaking and purple with need against your belly.

The steam only adds to the dreamlike quality of it all, tendrils wafting off the ground and highlighting the sight of your ass pressed against him.  Hunter doesn’t want to hurt you, but each passing second without fucking you is making him lose his sanity.  As if he might just sink into the floor with the weight of his need crushing him entirely.  

He nibbles at your earlobe, earning a low whine from your chest.  You tilt your head in invitation for his affection, kissing up the column of your neck and tasting the water on your skin tangled with the smell of his brothers.  He makes eye contact with Crosshair, and they communicate silently as they spin you around and switch roles.  

Hunter licking into your mouth and letting his hand run down to your hip and pull you to him.  Expecting the press of Crosshair to your back, you’re startled when you feel the graze of his teeth on your ass.  His palms run over the smooth skin, kneading the flesh and watching it move in response to his touch.  

Crosshair splays a hand on the small of your back, urging you to lean forward.  You glance over your shoulder as he spreads you open and licks a stripe across your asshole. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you hear a chuckle as he presses the pad of his thumb into you and watches you with a hungry stare. 

Hunter distracts you, kissing you slowly and running his hands soothingly down your back as Crosshair preps you to take him until he’s working two fingers in and out of you and sucking a bruise into your hip to match the one adorning your throat.  

You nibble on Hunter’s lip, and bury your hands into his hair, tugging at the root living for the whimpers you get out of him.  Crosshair kisses his way up your spine, standing straight, and this time you see them.  There’s a small nod of agreement and both of them turn their full attention to you, “You gonna let us fuck you cyar’ika?”

 Without hesitation, you nod.  You’re not able to explain, how you were able to wrap your arms around Hunter as he hoisted you up his waist and you sank down onto his length.  Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the way he demanded your submission through the tone of his voice.  No, you thought, it was the way he sounded like he was begging you, he commanded your attention but the way he used his authority had you believing that you, and what he asked of you, was the most important thing in the galaxy.  You wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for and more. 

They give you a moment, Hunter biting his lip as your cunt squeezes him like you haven’t already come three times already.  You throw an arm around Crosshair’s neck opening your legs just enough for him to slot himself against you and slowly push into you with the cant of his hips.  

He goes incredibly slow, sawing his hips back and forth and relishing in the feeling of Hunter’s cock also nestled deep inside you making you impossibly tighter and the friction of your walls against him.  

It feels like too much, pain and pleasure mixing in an enchanting cocktail of stimulation, yet still the familiar tug of an orgasm stirs in your belly.  You suppress a sob at the idea of coming for a fourth time around the both of them.  They hush you, nuzzling against you and pressing righteous and thankful kisses to your skin, “Look at you, pretty girl.” Crosshair’s voice is so low and drawn out that it takes every last shred of your concentration to hear what he’s saying, “You look so good taking everything we give you.” 

The inflection acts like a highlight reel, your body remembering along with your brain the feeling of being the center of attention during your first orgasm.  The complexity of your second. The white-hot stretch of Wrecker using and worshipping your body filling you to the brim during the aftershocks of your third.  Hunter whispers against the shell of your ear, “Good girl.” Reading the signs of your body and feeling the crest of your orgasm build around him, and pulling you over the edge with his praise. 

He presses his forehead to yours as he follows close behind, senses overwhelmed and fighting the bend to his knees as they buckle with the intensity of his climax.

Crosshair pumps into you from behind, lifting one of your legs slightly and changing the angle so he can thrust deeper grinding into you, and urging you to lean more heavily on him to keep the three of you from collapsing as he stills and spills into you. 

The three of you pant in silence, ragged breath lost in the noise of the water hitting the metal floor of the fresher, you wordlessly separate.  The endorphins running through your bloodstream turn your muscles' pain into a blissful ache you never want to forget. 

[intergalacticsouvenirs]

From Romans to Rectums: Thoughts on the Naming Convention in Mad Max

I think it’s fascinating how that meme about how often men think about the roman empire is materialized in the mad max world in different forms, but especially in their bastardized-latin naming convention. In my mind, it appears that post apocalyptic warlords were aware that modern society looked up to the roman empire, but they didn’t quite understand how the romans influenced us exactly. Nevertheless, the warlords (or their history men) did have access to niche knowledge such as ancient roman military strategy, enough to inspire the imperator and praetorian warrior position names. It’s as if the first history men did not keep any pre modern history on their skins, so they had to reduce the entire roman empire into fragments of ideals (for oral tradition). Such fragments of ideals would combine in weird ways to inspire these war-men to write the most beautifully grotesque poems that are their names.

In a world where words have more power, names are more than just biographical micro-poems, they are multi-used as tools as well. They could be guns pointed to your face like “People Eater” and “Toe-Cutter”, a quality seal of approval on a product like “Capable” and “Splendid”, an aggressive dog warning sign like “Furiosa” and “Mad Max”, and even a prayer amulet as in “Corpus Colossus”.

As a trend among warlords, a wacky wrestling stage name is a must for a strong branding. After all, the ferocious marketing of late capitalism and show business did not die with the atomic bomb, but rather thrived, mutated, and embraced nature, believe it or not. Darwin’s nature, not you tree-huggers’ nature.

The names of the two capable immortan brothers Rictus Erectus and Scabrous Scrotus reveal the real underlying obsession of all men: the penis. The penis is the axis mundi around which all revolves in the (mad max) world. But more than just about sex, the penis cult is about finding strength and courage in a hypermasculine god to mentally survive in a hypermasculine hell. In this context, the names of Immortan Joe's sons take on a deeper significance. Firstly, Rictus Erectus translates to something like grin and erection, as if Immortan Joe had hopped for a future full of pleasures for his son. It is also a very verbal wish for an offspring who can physically stand up by himself and for himself. Unlike his disabled brother Corpus Colossus, who received a magnificent name meaning body like a giant greek god statue, in fruitless hopes that his imperfections would also grow away. Scabrous Scrotus more explicitly describes a unique physical attribute, namely some scabby nuts. Scrotus could very well be a nickname, which would parallel ancient romans who would choose a cognomen (nickname) to be known by, like Caligula meaning “little boot”, Oedipus (greek) meaning “swollen foot”, and Verrucosus meaning “warty”, for example. Better would be if Joe had named his son after his own beat-up ballsack, in which case this ode to biological reproduction against the environment would be very on brand. I bet Darwin is grinning wide, in his coffin.

It is interesting to note that most people in the recent mad max world appear to be illiterate and uncultured, so most don’t even understand the meaning of these stupid Latin names, but just that they sound as important as they say they are. That means these men who have access to nuance are really “dressing up” for each other, like an internal joke with the bois. Three brothers named to sound like roman emperors, to rule over all the erected men, by his mighty phallus.

It goes to show how colossal and monumental… the roman empire was, that it would outlast even the best of modernity. And its shadow would still loom over humans like the mysterious milky way in the night sky.

It’s a shame that Miller’s hyper-poetry is not that accessible.

[mcx7demonbros]

All Catholic References with Sunday (that I could find)

Well, for starter, I found lots of Catholic references with Sunday, and by extension, some elements in Penacony and even Xipe the Harmony. I feel like I have to write this down and post this. It's the reason this post exists.

Warning, this post will have extensive Bible quotes and religious references. If you are uncomfortable, please ignore this post.

Also, because I could only play the story only once and cannot go back to re-read the story, there will not be screenshots to everything.

Finally, spoilers of the newest Penacony trailblaze quest ofc

1. The name

Sunday's name is Sunday, and as you know, this is the day that is dedicated to God and most Christian (including Catholics) go to church to worship God. Sunday, right before he called upon the machine that he rode to become the weekly boss for the first time, he called it "Dominicus". This comes from the Latin word for Sunday "dominica", which means "the Lord's day". "Dominica" itself came from "Dominum, which means "Lord" or "the Lord". Even though the data bank calls the boss "Harmonious Choir" the Great Septimus, the detailed description of the boss still says "Dominicus".

If you search on the internet, you may find that the Latin word for Sunday is dies solis (which means the day of the sun). But that word was used in the pre-Christian era. Dies solis was changed to dominica after Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire in the 4th century. Till this day, English and other Germanic languages still call the first day of the week "day of the sun" in their respective languages, while other Romance/Latin languages call the first day of the week "the Lord's day", such as Portugese - domingo, Spanish - domingo, Italian - domenica, French - dimanche, etc.

2. Sunday's physical angelic features

Sunday was born a Halovian, a species in Star Rail universe well-known by their angelic iconography, having "halos" over their heads and white wings on the back of their heads. Although currently, only Sunday and Robin are shown to have wings, while other Halovian NPCs don't have them.

3. Confession

This one, I believe, is quite obvious, with Sunday acts like a priest hearing confessions of the people who came to him for guidance and a free-from-guilt conscience in what seems to be a confession booth.

4. "The creation of Adam"

Remember the cutscene with the boss in 3rd phrase reaching out the hand and touches another hand coming down from the sky.

It''s inspired by this

"The Creation of Adam" or "The Creation of Man" is a fresco painting by Michelangelo for the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in early 16th century. This painting depicts God outstretching his right hand and finger towards Adam, the first man. This is mirrored and reversed by Sunday outstretching his right hand and finger from below toward the hand appearing from the sky. It is mirrored because in the original fresco, it is God reaching out for human with his right hand and Adam reaching out with his left hand, while in the game, the mysterious hand is a left hand while Sunday reaches out with his right hand. It is reverse because in the fresco, it is God who reaches out for human, while in the game, it is Sunday, a mortal, reaching up for the deity. However, we still don't know to whom that hand in the cutscene belong, I have compared that hand with both Xipe's and Ena's in their models, and it doesn't seem to belong to either of them, although the hand looks more like Xipe's than Ena's.

5. And on the eighth day

"And on the eighth day" is the name of the last quest of the trailblaze mission/main story quest chain of Penacony that was released in version 2.2.

In the quest, we hear Sunday telling us what Ena the Order did within the first seven days of Their existence. This is based on the narrative in the first chapter of Genesis, the first book of the Bible, God created everything in six days and He rested on the seventh day. If you have done the side quest to find clues about Sunday's whereabouts for Robin, you will get a notebook with the account of what Ena did in the seven days, the notebook is also divided into numbered chapters and verses, like the Bible.

Now we come to "the eighth day". In the 3rd phrase of the boss fight, each time the boss's turn comes, it doesn't attack but count the 7 days with its turns, corresponding with the narrative of Ena's first 7 days. And even on the 7th turn, the boss doesn't attack. It attacks on its next/8th turn after the cutscene, representing the eighth day.

Now in Catholicism, the day that Jesus rose from the dead is Sunday, the first day of the week. But Sunday is after the seventh day of the week, Saturday, so it's also called the eighth day.

"The eighth day, that is, the first day after the Sabbath [loosely corresponding to Saturday], was to be that on which the Lord should rise again, and should quicken us, and give us circumcision of the spirit." St. Cyprian of Carthage

"God brought it about that Christ’s body rested from all His works on the Sabbath in the tomb, and that He rose from the dead on the third day, which we call the Lord’s Day, the day after the Sabbath, and therefore the eighth day." St. Augustine of Hippo

6. Penacony's Phonograph soundtracks

I said that I also found some religious elements with Penacony. And I found those references with many of Penacony's phonograph soundtracks.

City Upon a Hill - the name is deprived from Jesus's words in Sermon on the Mount. You are the light of the world. A city seated on a mountain cannot be hid. (Matthew 5:14)

The Strength of Sin is the Law and The Sting of Death is Sin - now both of these came from the words of St. Paul the Apostle in his first Epistle (letter) to the Corinthians in the Bible, words for words. The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. (1 Cor. 15:56)

Infirma Nostri Corporis - this is a phrase from traditional Catholic hymn Veni Creator Spiritus - Come, Holy Spirit, Creator. The phrase is an invocation of the Holy Spirit to strengthen our mortal body full of frailty and weaknesses.

Requiem Aeternam - eternal rest, this is a introit (hymn that is sung when the priest enters the church at the beginning of Mass). This introit is used at a Requiem Mass or Mass for the deceased or funeral Mass, a prayer to ask God to grand eternal rest to the deceased. Mozart wrote his own Requiem, which I believe to be the direct inspiration for this soundtrack and the next four. That means the original Catholic hymns are indirect inspirations.

Confutatis - confusion, this is a part of Sequence Dies Irae (Day of Wrath), which tells us about the Last Judgement. Confusion here means the confusion of the reprobate if you want the full context of this particular phrase. Also a part of Mozart's Requiem Mass.

Hosanna in Excelsis - Hosanna in the highest (hosanna is a word that expresses adoration, joy and praise). This originally came from the words of the crowd when they acclaimed Jesus at his Entrance into the city of Jerusalem. (Matt. 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:28-44; John 12:12-19). This was later incorporated into the praise Sanctus, which is sung at every Mass. Being an ordinary part of the Mass, the Sanctus is also a part of Mozart's Requiem.

Agnus Aeon - Lamb of Aeon, this is inspired by Agnus Dei - Lamb of God, another hymn that is present at every Mass. The hymn itself was inspired from the Bible, when St. John the Baptist called Jesus "the Lamb of God" (John 1:36). In Star Rail universe, when saying "god", the Aeons come to mind and the soundtrack's name was subsequently adopted to fit in the story. Also a part of Mozart's Requiem, same case with Sanctus.

Lux Aeterna - eternal light, the name comes from the hymn that is sung at the end of the Requiem Mass. The whole context is a prayer to God to let eternal light shine upon the departed.

7. Xipe - the Triple-Faced Soul

One of Xipe the Harmony's titles is the Triple-Faced Soul, and you can see They have three faces (or heads?) from Their model. They are also called "thousand faces", but here I'll be discussing the Triple-Faced only.

Now Xipe's three faces reminds me of the Holy Trinity, especially the depiction of the Trinity as Trifacial.

This kind of depiction of the Holy Trinity is not allowed anymore after the 1628 ban of Pope Urban VIII, who feared the depiction could make the people confused about the doctrine of the Trinity.

While the Trinity in Christianity is Three Distinct Persons but one God, one Divinity, Xipe is one person with three faces as symbolism.

I do know that gods in Hinduism have multiple heads, but I have only seen gods with 4 heads, 5 heads or even 8 heads. The only time I see a three-head god is when they depict Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva together as the Trimurti.

Well, those are all the Catholic references I could find and remember. Feel free to tell me if I missed something :3

[keystonepublishing]

Dirges in The Dark by WixWrites

Before I start, let me just say: Ranchers! Scarian! Hermits and Life Series and Empires characters! Sheriff Jimmy! Sheriff Scar! Criminal Tango! the Wild West! Treebark and Ethubs!

RANCHERS. THE WILD WEST. CREEPING ELDRITCH HORROR.

Whoo, that was a rush.

I'll be honest; I think this book would have come out much sooner if not for my decision to add-in a whole lot of stuff into the text and pages. It got to the point that the original cover would have been a wanted poster at the front and a sheriff's report at the back!

I had to restrain myself, lest this book would never get finished at all. It's already been 59 days since my last post, and doing the original cover would have stretched the days even further. So I had to follow the mantra: Finished, not perfect. Besides, nothing says I can't make another version in the future...

From the moment I finished this fic, I knew it would become a book. But at 143,412 words, Dirges in The Dark by @twodiamondhoes would stretch my ficbinding skills to the limit and would be the second-ever bind that would reach past 250 pages (the first was an MCYT Sleepy Bois fic that predates this blog that I want to redo).

Eventually, the full typeset took up 520 pages! And as such, I finally decided to use extra support for the entire textblock. From an old pair of pajamas, I backed strips of fabric with glue and paper before cutting it into tapes, forming a crucial support for the various weaves along the spine. I then covered the entire spine in brown wrapping paper for even more strength.

For the title and headings, I scoured for and found several typefaces, dingbats, and vector graphics which really evoked the fic's Western and Gothic vibes. I also took some inspiration from fellow ficbinders in the Renegade Publishing group for the style of layout and formatting throughout the book, such as using faded images in the background of these pre-story pages.

I wanted the reader to be immersed in the Wild West from the get-go, so having such images from the start — before the story even begins — felt very appropriate. I tried to make them thematic to the information presented, like a singing cowboy for the music playlist pages, but I think I made the image too faint to be seen!

As for the chapter openers, I experimented with some layouts before finalizing on what you see: photos taking up one entire page on the left with the chapter titles and opening paragraphs on the right.

Just like my last bind, I want to make the reader feel immersed in the story and also bring out the mood of that particular chapter. This, however, led me to entire days of scouting and scouring stock photo sites just to find the right pictures for 11 different chapters. 4/10 would not recommend for sanity.

Given that the story uses a number of foreign words, old slang, and specific Wild West-era terms, I added a plethora of footnotes at the bottom of some pages for extra context and meaning.

I also wanted to be playful and make certain story parts, such as characters receiving letters and notes, really look like they're a part of the story. So I cropped old paper textures and fished out old fonts from the past to make them look as if they're actually there, pasted against the paragraphs!

More importantly, there were some specific parts of the fic that felt super important and I wanted to highlight these passages, especially the Deals made by the characters throughout their arcs. Given DiTD has a certain affinity with eldritch darkness, I decided to highlight such paragraphs by backlighting them against a band of pure black. Besides being thematic as hell, I made the bands have curved edges and decorative lines to add a certain western-gothic touch!

It was from this that I begin to think "what if I can color entire pages to convey the mood and setting?"

...Which led to the madness in these pages. I can't reveal too much because of spoilers, but there are certain times when the characters end up in situations where the very light turns to dark. Or they end up in hellish situations. Or the eldritch creatures began to speak.

It took some creative brainstorming to figure out how to show the mood of such scenes in printed pages, but I eventually figured out that I need find the right fonts, change their colors from black to white, and then change their backgrounds from white to dark to highlight them all! The power of formatting!

There's a lot more pages where I went wild with such shades and fonts, but I ain't revealing in public because spoilers!

But undoubtedly, this is the biggest experiment I have made with this bind. There is a certain part where Grian and Pearl spoke in eldritch R'lyehian / Cthuvian, and I want to convey the sheer strangeness of the speech and it's meaning. Something outside the box.

Luckily, I have an inspiration in fellow fanbinder @mythrilthread, who made an amazing fanbind that used vellum overlays to showcase the speaking of alien languages and what they mean in English. AND IT LOOKS SICK AS FUCK. When I finished reading Dirges, I knew I had to emulate this form of language translation, so I printed the eldritch speech, cut it, and pasted it onto the spine to give a similar effect of strangeness, and IT LOOKS SO COOL!!!

And lastly, I just had to include some of the amazing fanart made by readers into the book! All of these are placed by their corresponding text and chapters, and they all look so cool!

So I want to give a special thanks to @azzayofchaos, @leafdoodles, @hybbart, and @foxyola for granting their permission for me to include their incredible works into this bind! The dark shades and page formatting is one thing, but these works truly make this book feel so much more alive!

All in all, this bind was an odyssey in the making. I experimented with page formatting, layout wizardry, and bookmaking methods that I haven't tried before. While I know I could do better, I am beyond happy to see this work finished!

And once again, a thousand thanks to @twodiamondhoes / WixWrites for crafting an amazing story!

[onesidedradiostatic]

I can't work out if Alastor genuinely considered Vox a friend or thought of him more as like. A cute pet that dotes on its owner and does little tricks. And then he shows off his cute little pet to Rosie and Mimzy. I don't think he ever viewed Vox as a threat to him in any way, but it makes me wonder about Vox's whole smooth, smart, scary and competent side we initially see in episode 2. Was that something he picked up from Alastor, or was it something Vox already had that might have sparked Alastor's interest? Did he actually mentor Vox in any way or did he just think it was fun to watch him try to build a tiny version of Alastor's empire.

we don't have a whole lot to go off of right now, especially when it comes to alastor's side, but personally I find it more interesting if alastor did genuinely consider vox a friend. even if in his own alastor fashion, there were probably certain walls he never let down. I think it's interesting in that, we know alastor has more of a soft spot for women, so in this pre-husk era, vox could've easily been one of his first few male friends. which kinda makes it sadder it didn't work out. it's like it just proved to alastor "right this is why I don't trust men".

things we know rn are:

alastor calls vox "old pal" at the end of episode 2

alastor allowed vox to take a picture with him at some point

alastor, who is perfectly capable of killing overlords, has not killed vox

also seen this pointed out before, but in the initial commercial alastor filmed in episode 1, although shitty, he did do some actual editing

I wouldn't expect alastor to already have knowledge of how to do this beforehand on his own, question is: did he learn it himself? or did he learn it...

...from someone else in the past?

not to mention he seems to just instinctively already know how to set up shit for filming near the end of the episode. he must have gotten some experience from somewhere.

I think this post describes what they could've learnt from each other in the past best

I like to think alastor saw him as more than just some cute pet, at least back then. it adds more depth to their relationship. obviously there's stuff like the toxic homoerotic stalker-like obsession I feel is one-sided on vox's part (points to my url), but that doesn't mean I think alastor's side of their general relationship is completely non-existent. them having a genuine past friendship that affected both of them in different ways is what adds layers to their relationship I think. they were clearly both affected by their falling out in that they both developed irrational hatred of the other's medium as a result. and honestly? really need to see more of alastor's side of this, I think it'd be really interesting. even though, he hates vox now, and I don't believe he wants him back as a friend, is there any sort of sentiment left from their past friendship? is there a reason why he hasn't killed him? or was the time he almost beat vox an attempt at that? (though I like to believe it wasn't)

obviously, all we can do now is speculate based on the evidence we have in season 1, but for me personally, I like to think they were legitimately friends at some point.

[stealingyourbones]

Question! I have been getting into DC comics cuz of dpxdc, and I saw your tags on frank Miller on a recent post. One of my irl friends told me to read the dark knight returns and while it was occasionally hard to follow I assumed that was a result of when it was written rather than who wrote it? But I did overall enjoy it.

I guess what I'm asking is why you say frank Miller is a bad writer when it seems like the dark knight returns was so acclaimed?

(I saw the nazi thing too but that's something I can google so while it's news to me it's not my main question)

ok so. A lot of this is my personal opinion and I'm not too equipped to say shit about this because I'm not very political but I'm going to give it my best shot. Put under a cut so folks who don't want to hear about comic ranting can simply scroll past

I’m just gonna write a quick thing for the Nazi stuff, He isn't exactly a Nazi but boy oh boY does he set off many warning flags. Frank Miller is also the writer of the comic 300, if that sounds familiar that's because the movie you're probably thinking of is indeed based off these comics. The Spartan's ideology helped create the baselines of Fascism. Fascism is a pretty leading cause of commentary in Frank Millers work. In Batman: The Dark Knight he is a fascist. In Hard Boiled there's swastikas in the background every so often. (I even went back to reread it just to make sure and yep. they definitely were there) In 300 there's a shitton of Fascism... I could go on but still. His comics are incredibly gorey, have a discussion about a world gone wrong that can only be changed using force and weaponry (the whole Dark Knight "I am a surgeon" monologue for example), and the fact that he has Fascism as the main point of nearly all of the comics he's written... it doesn't sit right with me and it's a consistent pattern.

Now, onto the bad writing. I must firstly preface that these are my own opinions and that I didn't grow up reading Frank Miller's work. I think he was a good writer but isn't one anymore. His writing did incredible things for DC and you can see his influence in Batman even today. Works I've read and enjoyed of his are: Daredevil, Batman Year One, and Dark Knight. Nowadays you'll see many folks like myself talk about how Frank Miller has fallen off the deep end. A vast majority of Frank Miller's comics have reoccurring themes: politics, fascism, extreme violence, and so so much weaponry. Politics is in every comic book. There is no unpolitical comic, there ARE comics that are batshit wild with their politics and that's what I'm talking about. I'll get back to this later. He wrote many good comics, ones that first come to mind are Daredevil , Wolverine, Batman: Dark Knight, Batman: Year One, Sin City, Ronin, and 300. All of these comics are still credited by folks as amazing comics and hell, I recommend folks to read them go and check them out. Then 9/11 happened. That along with rampant alcoholism. Those reoccurring themes I mentioned? They become exponentially more blatant in his works. Especially on the political angle. You can see the difference between his works from pre and post 9/11. If you read Dark Knight and Dark Knight 2 back to back. It's night and day. He even made a comic during the post 9/11 panic called Holy Terror. The comic's title was originally pitched as Holy Terror, Batman! with the Gotham hero himself as the main character but it swiftly denied by DC, denied being published by DC, and changed to what it is now. The basic plot of this comic: A Vigilante named The Fixer fights Al-Qaeda after attacking Empire City. He doesn't even mention the word Al-Qaeda until 80 pages into a 150 page comic. The comic is some INCREDIBLY blatant post 9/11 propaganda that's ridiculously Islamophobic and anti-muslim. That isn't even my opinion, Frank Miller has said that's what this comic was. It is scattered with a ridiculous amount of hate speech written by a hate fueled man in 2007. Now onto comics that you'd more likely read. All Star Batman and Robin (2005). Oh boy. Let's compare shall we? Batman Dark Knight Returns (1986)

All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #1 (2005)

mind you this is as Dick is being driven to GCPD for questioning RIGHT AFTER HIS PARENTS DIED. He gets kidnapped by Bruce out of the police car. Not calmed in his arms after the murder and brought to the manor. Kidnapped. All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #2 (2005)

( a brief intermission of this sickass pose of a shirtless Alfred Pennyworth comforting Vicky Vale)

now back to the kidnapping:

[Skipping Bruce getting chased by the GCPD, Jumping the Batmobile ONTOP of a GCPD car, and laughing and talking to his car all the while Dick is absolutely terrified. They then use boosters that propel the Batmobile into the sky.]

Smashcut to #4 where they actually enter the Batcave.

I don't even think I need to explain myself. This is Spider-Man: One More Day levels of mischaracterization. Like seriously. Bruce kidnapping Dick after his parents were killed? Calling him a retard and hitting him during the aftermath (we can go on about how in 2005, the r slur was used commonly but this was just out of pocket), Leaving him in the cold batcave and told to eat rats? Frank Miller used to write some incredible works. Nowadays his writing is as decent as Rob Liefeld's art.

[still-searching-for-something]

I think a lot of people don't realize the Pax Americana, the massive decline in the frequency and severity of interstate wars since the end of the Second World War, is not a coincidence or happenstance. It is not an act of G-d, an unalterable status quo, or an accident. It is the product of decades of careful, hard work by diplomats, world leaders, civil servants, and political figures. And the primary guarantor of this peace, the product of their hard work is:

The North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)

And NATO is precisely what Vladimir Putin is waging a targeted hybrid war to destroy.

The binding principle of NATO, of course, is that an attack against one is an attack against all. An assault against Poland will get America, Britain, Canada, Germany, and all of the other 32 member states to respond. This creates a tangible disincentive to attack, obviously. To be in NATO is to be assured that when shit hits the fan, you have the most powerful military in the history of mankind on your side, that you are protected from any expansionist neighbors. All across the world are nations that would likely be subject to hostile takeovers if their larger neighbors felt free to invade—Taiwan, Poland, the Baltics, Israel, Finland, etc. Some of these nations are not in NATO, but they are all American allies, and the American military is the bedrock of global peace today. You ever wonder why the US spends so much on a massive military in peacetime? Because they're paying for the defense of themselves, and Western Europe, ANDcontributing to the self defense capabilities of their allies—many of whom do have competent militaries of their own, but mutually benefit from the American security umbrella.

Today, of course, we're dealing with the problem of an expansionist Russia guided by an irredentist ideology that views Russia as holding a unique, privileged position between the decadent, declining West (Europe) and the foolish, ungovernable Asia. Eurasianism holds that Russia is the center of both worlds, and is both destined and obligated to take the reins of Europe and Asia and guide it to Russian-approved greatness. The Russian government systematically denies the legitimacy of Eastern Europe's national aspirations and cultures, arguing that it is no different from Russian culture and therefore deserves Russian governance. And if they can't take over these nations by unequal treaties and puppet regimes and troll farms, they'll do it directly with force.

But, of course, there's a problem. NATO. NATO is the obstacle in Putin's plans. A war with NATO would be, well, World War III. Russia can't afford to go to war with NATO, and they know that.

But what if... they could make NATO politically irrelevant?

And this is what brings us to our good friends Donald Trump and the Republican Party. The links between the Republican Party and the Russian state apparatus are a bit lengthy for the scope of this post, but the point is, Donald Trump has displayed a consistent admiration for Vladimir Putin, and a derision for NATO unheard of for any American president since 1949. Trump has described NATO as "obsolete" and even stated he would allow Russia to "do whatever they wanted" to nations that don't pay enough into NATO.

This is bad. Real bad.

Trump is doing what is in Putin's interest and trying to turn back the clock to the pre-NATO days—where nations were invaded by stronger neighbors, and there was no massive military alliance to block it. Putin is working to undo the Long Peace and create the circumstances that would allow him to bring back the dead Soviet empire by force. Yes, NATO would intervene if Russian troops set foot in Poland, but that will mean a lot less if the main backbone of NATO, the United States, has announced to the world that it will abandon its allies.

This is what makes European leaders so invested in the 2024 presidential election, and why the invasion of Ukraine shocked them so much—Putin was demonstrating he seriously wants to wage war for territorial expansion, and is willing to kill to do so. If Trump wins in 2024, not only will he enact Project 2025 and cause all kinds of damage to the United States' democracy, he will also create a world where autocrats are free to invade their neighbors if they want. China can invade Taiwan. Russia can invade the Baltics. North Korea can invade South Korea. Venezuela can invade Guyana. Azerbaijan can invade Armenia. He won't bring about World War III, he'll bring about a bunch of smaller wars, all over the world.

If you want peace and democracy, vote for Harris. If you want war and authoritarianism, vote for Trump.

It's as simple as that.

[themagicbrew]

everyone! Meet Utrom.

The original traitor. The first defender of earth.

You may be able to read more about him Below. (side note: some things in my previous posts may be reconned)

(edit: sorry about any of the spelling and grammar errors)

Assigned Name: Utrom

Age: Uknown

Gender: Unknown (Queergender)

sexuality: Pansexual (poly)

Current occupation: Part-time nature conservationist, full-time tourist. (formerly) Rebel leader and Kraang surveillance scout

personality summary: Utrom is a jovial charismatic bundle of love, who cares deeply for the world around him and is burdened by his past. He continues to learn and grow for centuries, wishing to right his wrongdoings. He is a strict pacifist, however, Utrom is still capable of intimidating others when needed. Think of him as the fun laidback uncle of Earth! (for the most part)

Backstory!

Pre-Rebellion:

Utrom started out as any other Kraang, born on planet primordial and raised to be a soldier for their glorious empire. He was by no means, a cut above the rest. Utrom was just another nameless soldier- another cog in the machine

He (just like any other member of his species) took pride in what he was. Despite his big hulking figure, Utrom served as a surveillance scout for the empire. His occupation was to scout out planets prior to the oncoming conquest. He would study various things like the enemies' ecosystem, culture and technological advancements. Utrom had a deeper fascination- perhaps, even a hidden admiration for other lifeforms but not to the extent where he’d feel remorse for aiding in their complete genocide. 

Unlike most Kraang, Utrom would acknowledge to some degree his enemies were capable of outwitting them- though he knew no creature could ever overpower the might of kraang, Utrom also knew blindly underestimating their prey would have consequences.

This was not a common ideal, even for scouts like him. 

His comrade. The one assigned to aid him on all his missions. Kraang2. Had a completely different set of ideals, ones that were more aligned with the common kraang soldier. They were polar opposites in many ways BUT- their differences were what forged their strong bond. 

Utrom had even developed deep romantic feelings towards Krang2 but due to the culture they live in. Recognising or understanding such complicated emotions was nearly impossible. From his perspective, Kraang2 was his comrade and nothing more.

Sure, he liked the way She’d slaughter their foes or how she’d recklessly jump into battle without a thought or- even the quiet moments where they talked about climbing the ranks together but, She was just a comrade. Nothing more. 

Utrom never knew why but Kraang1 (2’s elder brother) did not trusted him. He didn’t understand what warranted such specific hostility directed his way. Utrom never made the connection that his close friendship with 2 may have been the root of it. Kraang1 never outwardly showed his concern for his younger siblings, especially in front of others. Kraang1 was also a higher-ranking member of the empire, he is considered a prodigy to General Chre’ll. 

He would abuse his authority over Utrom, singling him out from other soldiers for petty reasons.

To describe dynamic in the simplest of terms: they are like petty coworkers. a lot of their interactions would range from passive aggression to straight-up hostility or (more commonly) strained professionalism.

Utrom, being a lower rank could not bite back- otherwise, he'd be met with severe punishment. The abuse he undergo was something normalised within their society. Utrom would quietly question The kraang as a whole, however, his doubts would be buried. His head 6ft deep under the propaganda he was raised upon.

He was a soldier, meant to aid the empire's glorious crusade. To keep the natural order of things. the strong will devour the weak.

Utrom's betrayal/rebellion:

Names are important things within their culture. They are symbols that are achieved, rather than a title given upon birth.

Typically, a kraang would earn their Name after ascending the ranks and becoming a general however, a name can be earned through other means...more importantly, earning a name isn't always a good thing within the kraang.

Planet Earth was meant to be Kraang1's first conquest. Think of it as a crowning, one where Kraang1 would assert himself in the empire as "General Prime" (after a successful invasion.)

So what exactly happened?

Utrom, someone who was never seen far from kraang2's side- working in tandem- Was tasked with scouting out earth, alone. He was no position to question Kraang1's decision as per usual and thus, remained silent.

Once Utrom arrived on Earth (landing in Japan during the Heian period.) He went through the usual motions, Examining and collecting data. However, during this time- without his beloved comrade to distract him, his doubts began to take hold.

It was then he met a Sōhei, one who was unafraid of Utrom. Normally, when an enemy discovers him- Utrom was quick to kill but.. this time, he didn't.

the Sōhei fascinated him. They had simply struck up a conversation and even in that moment, they had hit a personal cord with Utrom. With words alone, he began to wonder- his doubts beginning to unearth.

So he did something he'd never thought he'd do.

Utrom began to befriend the enemy. He learned many things with the Sōhei and eventually, other humans too. A whole new world of opportunity had opened up to him, one that he'd never considered if he was with the kraang.

All of this was done under the Kraang's (metaphorical) nose.

Utrom saw how imperfect the empire was, thanks to the help of his human friends. Yet, he wanted others to see it too. Utrom wanted his fellow comrades to know, that there was more to life then blood and conquest.

He began to orchestrate an entire rebellion, gathering kraang from lower ranks to rise up and defend Earth. Kraang2 was the first to know about this but opposed the idea. Yet she remained silent, thinking that Utrom would come back to his "senses" (which he never did.)

This rebellion was how Utrom earned his name. Once word got out about a traitorous scout, he was 'branded' and named Utrom.

However, this act would lead more kraang to aid Utrom. He was a normal loyal soldier like they were, if he had the courage to fight authority then perhaps they could too?

This lead to a full on Battle on earth. The rebels and humans were getting decimated, despite everything- they were losing to the kraang.

Til the very last second, the human friends pulled out a piece of precious kraang tech. One built by a rebel and meant to seal in the kraang....and perhaps the rebels too.

Utrom knew this and allowed this, knowing that he too may be sealed as well.

Once the Key was unleashed, the battle was over in an instance.

Utrom somehow managed to avoid being sealed into the prison dimensions along with only a small handful of rebels left. The rest were sucked into the prison dimension where they'll no doubt, meet their demise.

This... Affected utrom in many ways he never thought it would. Unsure what to do with himself. He gifted the Key to one of his human friends.

The lost of kraang2 cut him deeply... Now stranded on earth, all he can do is heal and live a new life.

Post-betrayal

Utrom spent his first century on earth within Japan, living closely with the Sōhei he trusted so dearly. He had vowed to become a pacifist after the war, which was a tough journey for Utrom.

He had lived his whole life as a soldier. War was the only thing he knew but with help from his Human friends. Utrom managed.

Eventually, one by one his friends would pass on. Their lives were so much shorter than his.

He than decided too travel across earth. learning from humans without involving themselves in their conflict. Utrom would spend many centuries attempting to conserve the planet's ecosystem, socialising with humans and more importantly, trying to forget kraang2

Fast forward to present day

Utrom received word from the E.p.f that there was a failed invasion within NYC and that his presence is required. He was horrified to know, that he'd be helping with Kraang2 interrogation.

He did not work for them, serving more so as a "kraang consultant" due to his former role as a rebel leader. Yet, given that this was his old comrade, he felted the need to stay.

Now Utrom is trying hard to undo the damage that she and her brothers have caused.

Triva:

Utrom voiceclaim is Keith david (x)

Utrom likes telling stories about his time on earth. His antics with vary but all of them bizarre in their own special way. Utrom is essentially one big history book. A living artifact.

Utrom begins to keep an eye on those involved in NYC's invasion. Whether they be good or bad.

He struggles with being a pacifist, even til this very day. He often worries about snapping at someone since he's constantly aware of his strength.

Utrom great with dealing other peoples emotions however, closes himself off from his own feelings. He feels responsible for everything that had happen and is trying hard to 'fix' everything.

He still retains strong romantic feelings towards kraang2 and will continue to visit her once The E.p.f efforts in finding her brothers prove to be fruitless. (biggest simp in all the galaxy)

[pomplalamoose]

Ooohhh how about different eras of luke (ROTJ is my fav if doing one is easier) and maybe some modern dilf!luke 👀 reacting to you laying your head on his shoulder when you’re tired or have a headache pre-relationship?

Anonnn, you don't understand, I'm obsessed with this ask. I just HAD to do every single Luke era plus the Dilf AU as the cherry on top because it's been so long since I last wrote something wholesome😩

also it reminds me of the posts I used to do when I first started writing and ngl I'm feeling a little nostalgic

• sweet ANH Luke with his open smile and honest eyes is so easy to approach and befriend, resting your head on his shoulder comes almost naturally

• though unbeknownst to you he'd immediately be on the brink to loose his mind

• already he tends to be a little jittery with nerves whenever you randomly appear in the same room he is in

• even more so now that he's finally admitted his major crush on you to himself

• so just imagine his excitement the moment you decide to sit next to him

• as soon as your head touches his shoulder he goes bright red and doesn't dare to move in fear of accidentally shooing you away, his heart beating wildly in his chest

• for a slight moment he forgets how to breathe, though it's not like he minds

• this is the best day of his life

• not only does he finally get to feel the warmth of having you so close by his side, but also your soft hair aginst his cheek if he dares to tilt his head just a little bit

• when eventually he manages to somewhat normalize his breathing, his thoughts will start to wander

• he's SO proud you're clearly comfortable and feeling safe with him

• but should he strike up a conversation? Ask how you're doing? If everything's okay?

• maybe he could make you laugh

• your hands look so soft; what if he were to reach out and just take them in his?

• would you mind?

• he's not sure, his aren't as pretty and smooth as yours

• you smell very nice

• wouldn't your current position make you look like a couple to an outsider passing by?

• what if, and he feels very bold just considering, but, what if you...like him?

• quickly enough he has a very hard time remaining calm

• and how could he? He needs to tell someone about this RIGHT NOW

• good luck trying to catch ESB Luke sitting still for even once

• though should you be as lucky to catch him during a moment of rest and manage to lean on him, he'll feel similarly as ANH Luke; excited, a little nervous even, though not as much as his younger self would have been

• still he has to fight off the blush rising into his cheeks and will absolutely deny ever changing colors should someone (especially Leia, Han or even R2) point it out

• at the same time he wishes for as many as possible to witness this very monumental moment, hoping everyone will see that you're leaning on HIS shoulder

• HIS!

• yeah that's right! In your face, (add in name of random rebellion member that also takes an interest in you)!!!

• if he's feeling extra bold, he may use the chance to put an arm around your shoulder

• but very carefully so; he's afraid to overstep any of your boundaries

• after all he's not sure if you'd even like to be held

• there's only one problem: how is he supposed to do anything now?

• he has places to be, things to do, an Empire to fight!

• he's getting kind of warm too

• more than that actually

• Force, are you hiding a heater under all of your layers of clothing?

• also he just remembered; isn't there a meeting he has to attend?

• shouldn't he be working to improve his x-wing?

• he'll check on you out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a feeling for how long you plan to stay like this

• he needs to come up with a way to notify the others of his delay

• because there's no way he's moving even a single muscle

• he's not leaving you behind

• he simply can't!

• not when he was just chosen as your designated spot to rest your pretty but, admittedly, very heavy head

• but not to worry, of course he can handle it!

• he'll be here as long as you need him to be

• RotJ and post RotJ Luke is hard to keep tabs on and thus hard to find

• all you can hope for is to encounter him by pure chance, as he seems to simply have evaporated whenever you wander around searching for him

• though despite his withdrawn ways he's always welcoming and inviting should you happen upon him

• he, above anyone else, understands the importance of rest during a busy day

• he smiles mildly to himself as soon as you settle down and scoot close enough for your arms to touch

• the emotions you are unconsciously emitting, may it be nervousness, excitement or shyness, amuse him a great deal and he's keen to see whether you'll overcome them this time or not

• I don't think he'd tell you outright that he enjoys your presence, that it tends to calm him down and to ease his mind, until much later

• but despite what he is or isn't saying he can't help but feel a little warm inside whenever you come across him during the day

• despite that he can never not worry at least a little bit about your well-being and immediately feels the need to check in on you either with words or a gentle probe with the Force to make sure you're okay

• if he has the time to stay with you for a while he asks if you'd like to lay down

• see, he can shuffle to the side a little and then you could rest your head on his thigh instead of on his shoulder

• wouldn't that be more comfortable?

• he doesn't have a blanket in case you're cold, but maybe you could use his cloak?

• it's not the best, maybe a little rough and still a little dirty from his last trip as he didn't have the time to wash it yet, but it does a good job of keeping a person warm

• he doesn't show how happy he is should you follow his invite and agree to rest beside him, though maybe Leia would notice

• and possibly so would you by how he'd start to absentmindedly stroke your head and play with your hair whenever others are around to keep him properly distracted

• I think Dilf!Luke's reaction would really depend on the current situation/ on how far your relationship has already developed at that point

• here it's important to note though that he'd never tell you off or send you away for initiating contact, not even after just recently getting to know you

• yes he's standoffish and withdrawn, cold in demeanor, seemingly displeased with your presence in his house

• but when it comes down to it he is kind, always has been, even if he hides it away to protect himself

• his behavior towards you is nothing personal; the emotions you call forth are his to deal with

• he may try to at first but ultimately knows deep down that he can't hold you accountable for how his past still troubles him

• he's a father, deeply caring in nature

• no matter what, he could never bring himself to deny anyone his child's age comfort

• though he might be a little confused about why you chose him, of all people, to rest your head on

• after all it's not like he's been going out of his way to be peculiarly inviting or nice - quite the contrary actually

• he'll remain very still for the duration of your vicinity, involuntarily stiffening not only out of surprise but because it's been so long that anyone outside of his immediate family initiated intimacy

• he's so touch starved, so used to rarely feeling a person's warmth, that your simple act catches him off guard

• suddenly he has no idea what to do, how to continue on after

• for your own good and his child's sake he wants to keep you at an arm's length and yet...

• if he wasn't enamored with you before, he is so now

• he thinks back to those moments of doubt and insecurity frequently

• but where they once haunted him, they now serve as a reminder for how far he's come and what he was able to finally leave behind

• he's proud of himself too, yes, but most of all to call you his

• every little touch of yours, and may it be one as innocent as laying your head on his shoulder, fills him with joy

• never, in a thousand years, would he once have believed to be in a position to reciprocate your gentle displays of trust and affection

• but now that he can, now that everything feels a little less like a dream, it's all he wants to do

• (and he does)

• (forehead kisses are his favorite way to, he can't help it)

• (not when you placed yourself so conveniently)

[hero-israel]

just seen a palestinian auntie post about her niece being born w red hair and she constantly fans over it and goes on about how it’s a blessing and the comments are other palestinians and arabs fanning over the white pale skin and blue eyes and blonde/red hair of some of their relatives. even going on to call those relatives swedish/russian/white as nicknames.

but when jews esp israeli jews talk about their natural fair skin, or blue eyes/light hair (which is a minority in the jewish world, majority of jews do not have light features the same as arabs) in the slightest, they are called hitler 2.0 and it’s used as ‘proof’ that we as a whole can’t possibly be indigenous. like these features have always existed in the levant. they weren’t as prevalent in the levant as some ppl think, but they were there.

i see the same happen w black jews. despite black ppl being in the levant for a very long time, pre-enslavement and after, due to migration, pilgrimage, intermarriage etc etc etc, they are told they can’t possibly be native. while some afro-palestinians who came just a few decades before are native? and i’m not talking about those that are the descendants of enslaved people, if you are trafficked from you land and assimilated/forced into a new ethnicity due to that you have every right to consider yourself a native bc you were literally forced to be one. i’m talking about those that are the descendants of migrants and pilgrims, who set up shop in jerusalem during the ottoman empire and are now supposedly more native than black jews who in most cases are there bc their ancestors were expelled or had to flee and bc they have an actual cultural, genetic and historical link to the land even before that.

Don't be shy about citing this:

My grandfather, born on an actual shtetl in Poland, was the spitting-image lookalike for Hafez Assad. Speaking of Syrians, here's pro wrestler Sami Zayn. Hajj Amin al-Husseini famously had blue eyes and red hair, which might have helped him befriend Hitler. As bad as colorism is in any context, it is all the more infuriating from an I/P perspective when so many people just accept from the outset that people like you, people who look like you, have no right to live in certain areas (even though we always have). Read long enough in Palestinian, Syrian, and Lebanese communities to see their perspectives on Jews and Israel and you can't help but notice the fairly frequent comments about (and I swear I have seen this quote near-verbatim) "We Syrians have such beautiful white skin and beautiful blue eyes, we are not at all like those Saudis or Yemenis, who are as dark as Indians!".

Afro-Palestinians are pretty much always used unfairly and tokenistically by pro-Palestine outsiders; in their daily lives they are regularly called "abeed" (slave) and sometimes even with their neighborhoods known as that. It's not unlike how goyim only ever bring up Ethiopian Jews to spin yarns about "sterilization" while also cheering for groups who want to kill them alongside the rest of Israel.