#red comrades

[ryunumber]

Vasily Ivanovich Chapayev from Red Comrades, based on a real person. There's two avenues that I can think of, and that's either going with either Vladimir Putin or Arnold Schwarzenegger shown on a poster.

Vasily Ivanovich Chapaev does not have a Ryu Number.

(clarification below)

Static images like posters are explicitly disallowed.

[pestilentia-play]

Петька и Василий Иванович 3: Возвращение Аляски Перезагрузка. Полное прохождение

[damnesdelamer]

If you have a hammer, and everything begins to look like a nail, I think that might be your problem. When I have a hammer, some things look like nails, yes, and some look like anvils, some like molten metal, untempered steel, ornate metalwork, chisels, piano strings, walnut shells, piñatas, the stakes holding up big top tents, the sleepers beneath transcontinental railway systems, crumbling tenements, unfinished building projects. Some things look like fascist smiles. Hammers can be used for all sorts of things.

[doctorbeans]

don’t think i ever posted these. born of the need to see characters napping together

[conceptofjoy]

ohh arquius deprogrammed jane because equius and aradiabot and. ohh yeah.

[septemberlikeastorm]

qimir/the stranger about murder couture the way moms are about raincoats

qimir: *squints at sky* looks like a good chance of doing a murder today. i just packed my slinky murder outfit, you better grab yours too osha: we're literally just going to Space Cheesecake Factory, i think i'll be fine qimir: but babe you never know when you'll have to do a murder. you'll be sorry if you don't have your slinky murder outfit osha: then i guess i'll just be sorry qimir: osha: qimir: osha: qimir: don't worry i'll pack yours in my canonically giant purse. i've also got one (1) slim jim & seven (7) coconuts in there if you get hungry osha: it's because you keep bringing your own food that they keep kicking us out of all the franchise locations!!!! qimir, helpfully: & also because we do a murder at each one. hence packing your murder outfit. & also a sweater in case it's chilly inside

[good-beanswrites]

A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.” 

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place. 

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being. 

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt. 

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt. 

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.” 

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself  “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.” 

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.” 

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?” 

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!” 

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!” 

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries. 

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.” 

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see? 

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand.  A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too. 

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.” 

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts. 

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta  took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

[theworkshopmann]

Classy Comrade

I am credit to high society!

Type: Cosmetic/Misc

Class: Heavy

Paintable: Yes

Accepted in game: No

This cosmetic was made by Steam users Big Bob and Tabby. Posted on June 25th 2020, you can vote for this here!

[redeyedryu]

Oh big same, Ororon. Big heckin' same.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

I always envisioned Childe & Foul Legacy as more of a Jekyll-Hyde trope-y thing— Foul Legacy embodying baser things while Childe is the tattered remains of Ajax.

Foul Legacy purring sweetly when you snuggle with him, Childe humming a soft, satisfied note when he wraps his arms around you. The same nature and person, but executed and presented differently— As Foul Legacy, he brings you (only the BEST 😡) seashells, the flowers with the softest petals, embraces in the biggest arms to ever hug you and the cooing song of the Abyss made content. Chittering playfully, showing you the warmest sunning spots, huffing out a sleepy, content sigh while he curls up 'round you in a nest built largely of the blankets and pillows specifically purchased for this purpose.

Childe is a cheesy, syrupy-sweet romantic type, peppering you with kisses and hugs, bringing home gifts like bouquets of flowers with all your favorites and then some (and an extremely condensed rendition of Zhongli's 3 hour long ramble on Liyue's flower language after Childe had asked about it, featuring notes and several recommendations). Pressing the heart hidden on the palm of his glove into your own hand 'til it's imprinted on your skin for a few minutes (and smiling like a dork over it), fingers lacing together, staying still so you can "count his freckles" (give him smooches) and then reciprocating with a jokingly competitive ferocity.

No matter his shape, though, the big scary Eleventh Harbinger will look a little like a sad wet cat when your date is interrupted by spring rains, and then basically shrug and splash in puddles and pluck dripping leaves off of trees since you're outside and getting soaked anyways. You set an orange leaf atop his head, and he huffs this cute little you-adorable-motherfucker sigh at you and does his level best to find something that matches the color of at least one of your features to proudly display for your approval.

this is the most beautiful thing i've read all week

Childe prefers to hold you from behind while sleeping, his arms loosely holding your waist and his chin resting on the top of your head; Legacy curls around you, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, scrunching up his body so he can fit on the bed and be near you, even though he has a room entirely for himself. but on the occasion either one of them wakes up before you do, they both greet you with soft, sleepy kisses, Childe gently pecking your skin and Legacy nuzzling against you as he gives your cheek a little lick. they revel in the joy of seeing you wake up, yawning and stretching your arms only to fall back onto the mattress as Childe or Foul Legacy tugs you back down again. winter days are the best, when everything's cold and icy but your bed is toasty and warm, made even better by the arms of your beloved

before he introduced you to Foul Legacy, Childe's greatest fear was his Abyssal side accidentally hurting you. he knows the violence and thirst for battle that he feels- he knows how easily Foul Legacy can tear anyone apart with his claws, how quickly you could fall against him. but his worries were for naught, as his monstrous counterpart fell in love with you almost instantly, his hunger for blood and death falling away in favor of snuggling up to you and purring like a motor. Childe silently thanks Legacy for not hurting you the first time he wakes up again as a human, a goofy grin spreading across his face when Legacy simply chitters and chirps in response; soft, gentle noises that he had never made before, and Childe knows it's because of your presence

[the-blossica-fan]

Do not let windsong see vila in her 2.2 garment she will lose her mind 😭

But unfortunately I can imagine it 😭😭😭🙏

Windsong's homosexuality will reach peaks that have never been recorded before.

My God I would forgive Windsong because WHAT A WOMAN. I too would turn into a pile of mush

What a lucky bastard

Though I can see Windsong trying so hard to stare up at Vila's face, every muscle in her body is tensed and her eyes are STRUGGLING. Girl is so red APPLe had to tell her to stop.

And Vila played into it, oh she did, she killed Windsong (Made her blush so much she nearly fainted)

[comrade-slugcat]

the first sign of the plague is crumbling antennae and erratic behavior

[whosname]

I'm gonna unionize the hell out of these Horrors and Horrorcitos!

(Version with added red behind the cut)

[unitedfrontvarietyhour]

If I told you I had foreseen the Houthi-funded and -trained Ansar Allah army as a comrade in the struggle for Palestinian liberation before October 7th, I'd be lying. But that's the power of hindsight and dialectical materialism; when your cause is sputtering and dying out, you take all the true allies you can get.

[powerofinheritance]

"Dorothy. So you're actually here too..." Not exactly surprising given what Snow White told her. But seeing the bright pink hair seclude herself off on a bench in the gardens was what Rapi had come to expect from her. The last time they met she tried her best to tie up any problematic ends she could still feel that animosity inside. Even then despite those best efforts not everyone could get the ending they wanted.

This was the first time they saw each other since then. And so much had changed about Rapi she didn't even know where to begin.

"...There's a lot we need to talk about. Or maybe its just me that wants to clear the air." As evidenced by how different she looked and carried herself compared to before. "But I'll assume you still are holding what happened to her against all of us."

@ungratefuloz

[carbonateddelusion]

have some doodles! try seeing if you can name all the ocs I drew as kids in the first image before checking the tags :)