#since the Reach *are* actually warmongering aliens
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Actually thinking about the immigrant narrative in Jaime's Blue Beetle because... This is a 2nd gen immigrant with alien tech fused to his spine......... In an America where his parents (and probably himself) get slurs thrown at them for being "illegal aliens"…......... There's some kind of metaphor there
#and i wish canon (comics) did more with that#because while the movie (in Uncle Rudy's speech about paper trails deportation) and the 2006 comic (in the border patrol arc)#acknowledged the Reyes' immigrant roots#the alien tech didn't really play a part in those stories thematically?#probably because the writers figured it's a minefield#since the Reach *are* actually warmongering aliens#so it's not a flattering parallel#but I'm thinking of Khaji Da specifically#which is separate of the Reach as a sentient entity. Khaji isn't evil....... it's just an 'alien' being trying to do good in America#just some food for thought#Jaime Reyes#dc txt
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The scavengers?! YEEEESSS!!1! my precious darlings :D They deserve this <3 can't wait to see more :) Thank you for writing this, i really needed something positive right now.
No worries :) I just really wanted to write these five goobers struggling

A Lifeless Ordinary
IDW Scavengers x Reader
• “You realize that thing is sentient, right?” Fulcrum asks, leaning to watch Spinister trying to coax their new pet into saying his name. So far the only response has been for it to lift both hands, middle fingers extended in what he suspects isn’t a friendly gesture.
• Looking up, Krok vents as Crankcase hesitantly mimics the gesture at the alien and it starts laughing like a Cybertronian would. Everything about it, that it’s bipedal, its little face, its hands and legs, is uncannily like a Cybertronian in form aside from being organic. “Of course, I do,” he finally says, servos flitting over the controls to check everything is ready to go even though he’s already checked three times while they wait on Misfire. Knows he’ll check more times, but unable to stop since the repetitive gesture keeps him focused. And from overthinking exactly how much damage Misfire can do running a simple errand unsupervised.
• “Honestly, I’m surprised Spinister’s not forgotten it’s his and shot it yet.” Fulcrum winces in sympathy when the hulking purple medic seizes you and roughly runs a servo over your head while you try to smack him, chattering angrily before giving up and slumping in his hand. “Any luck with that language?”
• Krok hesitates as Misfire comes running into the ship, a tiny container in his servos. “We should probably go,” he says right as the natives start firing on the ship.
• “Did you steal that?” Fulcrum growls, as Krok powers up the ship. Not even sure why Fulcrum’s asking, because of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have?
• Indignities upon indignities. Dangling from the biggest one’s hand, you finally give up as his big servos pet your hair and he rumbles nonsense at you. As far as you can tell, you’re a pet. Not exactly flattering, but since they’re not hurting you and they’ve kept you trapped on their ship since finding you, there’s not much you can do about it. You’d made attempts to try and play charades with the big one and after hours of it you’d decided either you’re just awful at charades or he’s an idiot. But at least his hands are warm even if his touch is a bit rough as he tries to cuddle you against his neck.
• “In my defense, they refused to sell to Cybertronians. Something about us being warmongering abominations destroying the galaxy,” Misfire says, prying open the container and immediate leaning away from the stink. “Organic food for the organic.”
• Grumbling slightly, Spinister lowers you near the box and they wait as you look inside then back at them questioningly. “You think it knows what it can and can’t eat?” Crankcase mutters as Misfire huffs. But that is something Krok hadn’t considered. Surely you do know. Right?
• Whatever they brought you looks like blue noodles and smells like dirty socks. And they’re just staring down at you talking amongst themselves, because they can’t understand you. What even is this? It’s when the one with a chunk missing from his head bends and mimes eating that it sinks in. Surely they don’t think you’re going to eat this garbage? Apparently they do as the calmest of the five gently nudges you closer to the box. And inhaling to gather yourself, you gingerly pick up a slick noodle in your fingers and bite into it. By some miracle it does actually taste good despite having the texture of a raw potato. You suppose they’re trying to take care of you and that’s something.
• Listening to the miserable sounds that aren’t even marginally better than the tantrum Spinister had thrown threatening to shoot Misfire over the whole mess, Krok reaches out a servo and rubs between your shoulders as you keep dry heaving, because apparently you don’t know what you can and can’t eat as difficult as it is for him to grasp. The rest of the Scavengers had retreated a safe distance when you’d started noisily purging the food, so now it’s just the two of you.
• They probably weren’t trying to poison you. Maybe. Shaking and dehydrated, you slump over and the calm one carefully wraps his servos around you and cradles you to his chassis, murmuring softly as you press your palms against your eyes, head pounding and throat raw. His touch is at least gentle compared to the other’s as he runs a big servo along your spine over and over. When you’re less miserable, you need to try charades with him since he seems to be the leader. Maybe you can get it through his head that you’re not a pet. Right now, you just want to soak in the warmth of him and rest.
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#idw krok#idw crankcase#idw spinister#idw misfire#idw fulcrum#transformers x reader#idw scavengers x reader
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really neat thing~
also: imagine the warmonger species reacting to humans' version of honorable. specifically what comes to mind is the lesser males seeing humans raiding the base that has the combatant males, and the humans actively going out of their way to spare any non-combatants [the children and females mostly, especially once humans realize the females of this species are never going to get in on the war]
this sort of thing would likely be notable since i can imagine with species that evolved from high end predators the warmonger race might be horrified yet expecting of such species to outright go for full genocide [even if that's not the actual tactic being used by the sneaky aggressors they hate] [especially since humans that can manage it might actually go so far as to rescue children from risk areas]
some humans realizing that the quick "take them out now" method isn't getting across to this interstellar threat to leave our species alone [and later deciding nah we gonna take you down Many notches], potentially an actual diplomacy thing falls through and in desperation the seemingly subservient human [a secretary or something that just had to watch the world leaders or generals or whatever get beaten to a bloody pulp] manages to mutilate a really high ranking bull, going so far as to castrate them [whether because that's something they can actually reach that will absolutely hurt like hell or because something the alien said registered it as "this action will be worse then death", it doesn't matter]
arguably we'd be to them what they'd be to us; horrific, mind-bendingly alien, and impossible to ignore
One of the thoughts I had while writing that post on Barbara Ehrenreich's Blood Rites, anti-predator defense, and the origins of the male gender role is if that model is correct it implies Larry Niven got the relationship between a sapient species's diet and culture/values pegged wrong, at least as far as the Kzin are concerned. Courage is the virtue of a prey species that engages in collective defense; a smart predator attacks the weak, avoids fights against strong opponents, and is quick to retreat from any fight in which it loses the advantage; a sapient species with a long evolutionary history of being big game hunting carnivore apex predators would probably value/honor courage less than we do, so Kzin biology and implied evolutionary history is actually kind of an awkward fit with the kind of assholes the Kzin are. Asshole aliens with a long evolutionary history of being big game hunting carnivore apex predators might be sneaky raiders with an unapologetic "if they outgun us, trade, avoid, or appease, if we outgun them, raid and pillage!" mindset, or something like that; they probably wouldn't have the prideful machismo, hotheaded aggression, and disdain for restraint of the Kzin (you could argue calling it machismo is an anthropomorphism because Kzintosh aren't men but lbr human machismo is very obviously what the Kzin attitude is modeled on).
I wouldn't go so far as to say it's unrealistic for the Kzin to be the way they are, cause Kzin values could plausibly arise from intra-species competition and my rationalization for why the Kzin are as they are is a mix of that and "the Kzin are like that because their right-wing authoritarians won their history and got to shape their culture." But, as I said, I think the kind of assholes the Kzin are wouldn't logically flow directly from their ancestral subsistence strategy/ecological niche.
Which makes me wonder: if as a spec-bio exercise I tried to make a species which's biology would predispose them toward becoming approximately the kind of asshole Proud Warrior Race the Kzin are, what traits would they have?
Here's what I came up with:
First obvious thing is to give them a "harem" social system like gorillas, elephant seals, certain ungulates, etc.. This lends itself well to a species with a highly competitive male hierarchy in which male social and reproductive success is contingent on being able to make credible costly signals of being strong and badass.
One major obstacle to a species like that becoming a threat on the interstellar scale is control by a single dominant male is a pretty hard cap on group size. I propose that this species has overcome that by developing a social system with dominant bull coalitions, so instead of being limited to groups of one to three dozen individuals controlled by a single dominant male, they can have e.g. groups of a few thousand individuals controlled by a few hundred dominant bulls and so on; this eventually scaled up to an interstellar empire with billions of subjects and probably at least a few hundred million dominant bulls in loose coalition (that big dominant bull coalition is the empire's warrior-aristocrat class).
Unlike the Kzin, in this species the females will definitely be sapient and have lots of soft power; all the internal male social competition and external war and imperialism is largely about impressing them.
Another major point of difference from the Kzin: this species definitely should not have much evolutionary history of cooperative big game hunting. Pack hunting strongly incentivizes and rewards cooperation and solidarity (I suspect this plus the smaller group sizes of carnivores is why you see "harem" social organization more in herbivores), whereas I think to get aliens that are assholes in approximately the way the Kzin are we want a social system that's highly internally competitive. This probably implies a mostly herbivorous diet, though there might be some supplementation with small game; the important thing is this species has had basically no selection pressure for being effective predators of animals strong enough to require cooperation to take down.
Related and important point: the evolution of sapience in this species was more-or-less entirely driven by social competition and sexual selection, and they got too big to be tempting targets for the predators of their ancestral environment long before they developed sapience. So this is a species with no recent evolutionary history of being a prey species.
I guess we're maybe looking at something like a mix of gorillas and elephants here; maybe ancestrally browsers of the savanna and open woodland (though they'd gradually switch toward eating more richer food such as fruit, tubers, young shoots, meat, etc. as they developed more efficient food production). If we're doing the Mass Effect "more alien-looking than Star Trek forehead aliens but still implausibly humanoid" thing some kind of big beefy horned minotaur-looking humanoids would be a pretty appropriate look for the dominant bulls (with the subordinate males being more slender and the females being more slender and substantially smaller - this would be a species with way more sexual dimorphism than humans), not sure what I'd make them look like if I went the route of making them more realistically alien-looking.
Organized violence (i.e. war) developed in this species partly as a mating ritual. Large-scale battles gave males the same kind of opportunities to demonstrate strength and courage that fitness signalling duels did, but the much more complex tactical environment of a large-scale battle also offered opportunities for males to conspicuously demonstrate intelligence and cooperation. The switch from duels to battles as the primary arena of fitness signalling was a major selection pressure driving the evolution of sapience in this species. Originally the ultimate aim of war in this species was group fusion in which the dominant bull coalition of one group would defeat the dominant bull coalition of another group and the two groups would merge with the victorious dominant bull coalition being the dominant bull coalition of the combined group and the males in the defeated dominant bull coalition being either killed or demoted to subordinate status with their new lower rank being rubbed in by bullying and humiliation rituals. As the species developed bigger and more sedentary social groups this developed into territorial conquest with conquered communities remaining in their old homes under the rule of viceroys. But the thing where wars were partly giant mating rituals meant often neither side was particularly in a hurry to finish off their enemies as no more enemies to fight would mean diminished opportunities for social mobility and impressing females; there tended to be a "we have always been at war with Eurasia/Eastasia" dynamic where the conflict itself was effectively treated as having social value and actively maintained and subject to various forms of ritualization that limited its destructiveness so it could be kept going longer.
So, this is a species that's gotten lots of selection pressure from intra-species competition and violence, but has no recent evolutionary history as cooperative predators of animals with comparable size and strength to themselves and has no recent evolutionary history as a prey species. This species will have instincts and intuitions about violence totally optimized for intra-species violence that's mostly a mix of coalition politics propaganda of the deed and male fitness signalling rituals (and, of course, their culture will build on those instincts and intuitions and the dynamics that selected for them). I think this would lead plausibly to people who share one of the defining traits of the Kzin: being aggressive imperialist warmongering swaggering bullies who endlessly congratulate themselves on their ferocious warrior spirit and supposed mighty warrior prowess and supposed right to rule derived from that but are not actually all that good at war compared to a species like us that has been shaped by hunting and being hunted.
The thing about intra-species violence that's mostly a mix of coalition politics propaganda of the deed and male fitness signalling is it simultaneously incentivizes restraint more than inter-species predator/prey violence and incentivizes aggression more consistently than inter-species predator/prey violence.
On the restraint side, intra-species violence means potentially violence against relatives or potential mates, and in a social species violence against potential helpers. This obviously creates an incentive for restraint. Violent intra-species competition is where you get natural weapons and combat set up to probably not do too much damage (bighorn sheep knocking each other on their hard blunt horns instead of stabbing each other in the fleshy flank or face with sharp horns), notions of fair and honorable fights, "why don't you pick on someone your own size?," chivalry, rules of war, boxing gloves and rules against hitting below the belt, etc.. This post touches on some of the dynamics I'm talking about here.
I think plausible cultural development of this species might enhance this. A highly competitive "harem" social system means at least the males of this species are likely to be less cooperative than humans, and a less cooperative species will have a harder time forming effective equalizing coalitions. This species never got our probable evolutionarily significant period of living in mostly relatively egalitarian societies; compared to us their males at least are likely to be less wired for cooperative coalition-building and more wired for trying to individualistically climb their way up viciously competitive hierarchies; again, it seems likely this would make the formation of effective equalizing coalitions harder. The females are a bit of a wild card here, not sure what'd be going on with them, but considering they find aggressive, violent, domineering males sexy, I can see them not having instincts terribly promising for forming effective society-wide equalizing coalitions either. A species that's not very good at forming effective equalizing coalitions is likely to be not very good at coming up with ideologies of equality; equivalents of liberalism, democracy, socialism, anarchism, etc. may not exist at all in their philosophical tradition, or if they exist are likely to be obscure and marginal. The implication may be the political landscape of this species was a pretty dismal picture of oppressive oligarchies everywhere for pretty much the entire existence of their species. Like I said, I expect this species would develop a lot of practices to limit the destructiveness of war and focus its destructiveness on direct combatants. Defeat of a community in war would likely mean little change in the social or material conditions of most of the community's members; one oligarchic dominant bull coalition would replace another, and the only real change for most people would be a change in the names and faces (or scents or whatever they primarily recognize each other by) of their masters. Plausibly, the females of a conquered community would even approve of the change, seeing their community's new ruling dominant bull coalition as having proven themselves more desirable breeding material by winning. All of this would tend to encourage a sensibility that wars are basically social games between males and the only thing important at stake in them is the personal social and reproductive success of the direct combatants.
On the aggression side... Violent coalition politics involves lots of costly signalling, bluff, and martyrdom. The kind of violence a species like the one I'm describing here engages in is probably going to include a lot of violence that's basically an implicit statement of "I am exceptionally strong and brave and badass and would be an exceptionally good subordinate or ally, please give me a promotion!" And when it comes to male violence done as male fitness signalling to females, well, sperm is cheap and ova and wombs are expensive; in a "harem" social system demonstrating your mere viability will probably not be enough to impress females into mating with you, they are likely to require a costly signal of exceptional excellence before perceiving you as a desirable breeding partner, and if you die trying to make that costly signal, well, rolling the dice on a 65% chance of getting killed while young and a 35% chance of getting to breed might easily be selected for over contenting oneself with dying childless at a ripe old age.
Basically, I think you might plausibly end up with a species with bone-deep intuitions that:
- Violence is a performance, it is primarily communicative, using it to send a message to your opponent and/or to witnesses is at least an important secondary consideration and may even be more important than the actual concrete outcome of the fight. It is not enough to simply defeat your enemy, you must do so in a way that effectively communicates what you want to communicate.
- The most consistent purposes of violence are to show off your own strength, bravery, and fighting prowess and to terrorize and humiliate your opponent into submission.
- War is basically a game played among males. It's not a trivial game, it's literally deadly serious for the males involved in it and your society is largely organized around it, but it's fundamentally a game; the only people who have really big stakes in it are the direct combatants, and having fun and displaying good sportsmanship and putting on a cool performance are important secondary considerations and may even be more important than the actual concrete outcome. If you've ever read Ian Banks's Player Of Games, Azad (the game and the institutions and culture around it) in that book is the best analogy I can think of for what war would be to these people.
- Your enemies will be basically following the same rule book you have.
When these people develop interstellar travel and meet other sapient species, they'll apply the instincts and cultural institutions they developed for intra-species competition to those other sapients. I.e. they'll turn into nasty imperialists. Conquered aliens would get incorporated into their society in about the same social position as weak males. In their society weak males with little hope of rising to dominant bull status are kept around for labor and to assist with the care and education of the offspring of their female relatives and have a social status roughly equivalent to serfs; this would be the obvious niche to put conquered aliens in, with some modifications, e.g. conquered aliens would be expected to keep reproducing with each other.
Combine what I said in the previous paragraph with how much these people's social instincts would revolve around volatile male hierarchies reinforced by bullying and humiliation rituals, and I expect being a conquered subject of them would tend to be unpleasant to horrific. Being a primarily herbivorous species, these people wouldn't occasionally eat their slaves like the Kzin, but I could totally see the dominant bulls occasionally casually caving some poor slave's skull in out of a combination of some petty irritation and wanting to remind everyone who's boss.
Let's say we want these people to get approximately the same nasty surprise when they attack humans that the Kzin did. Model favorable to that:
In this setting, the most common pathway to sapience is through social and sexual selection. Sapient species usually evolve in environments without big predators, e.g. isolated islands, because serious predation pressure tends to prevent the very strong commitment to a long-lived slow-breeding very K-selected life strategy that leads to sapience. Sapient species usually do not have recent evolutionary history as big game hunters (the typical sapient is a physically not very strong omnivore, often primarily an eater of fruit, tubers, seeds, insects, and small animals, though also a lot of sapient species started with an ecological niche roughly equivalent of fish-eating birds that nest in large rookeries). Species that evolve sapience through this pathway usually have strong social and artistic intelligence, but lack instincts and institutions of organized violence (they aren't always peaceful, but if they do have significant intra-species violence it's murder, done by individuals or very small groups, not war).
When the warmonger aliens I've spent most of this post describing meet species like this it usually goes similarly to what happened when the Maori met the Moriori, or at least like that event as described in a book I read once. The warmonger aliens will roll up and be like "Yo, what's up, losers! You are now our slaves! We're awfully fond of presents called 'tribute' which you'll be giving us regularly from now on, and you'll be obeying our orders from now on! You can start by performing these humiliating submission rituals to acknowledge our superiority!" and this will be kind of an OCP to their victims, who will usually either basically surrender immediately or try to resist but fold pretty quickly cause they aren't well-equipped for war psychologically, culturally, institutionally, or materially. The warmonger dominant bulls honestly find it kind of boring, to the point that they fight a lot of highly ritualized flower war style conflicts among themselves as a mix of oligarch class dispute resolution, bloody enrichment, and live fire training to keep their warrior skills sharp.
Basically, the galaxy is full of weedy theater kid nerds, and these warmonger aliens are the meathead jock bullies of the galaxy going around shoving those nerds into lockers and stealing their lunch money.
The exceptions to this pattern the warmonger aliens met before us were a mix of 1) other species like themselves, 2) sapient species with a long evolutionary history of being big game hunting carnivore more-or-less apex predators (who are basically sneaky raiders). The warmonger alien dominant bulls tend to hate the latter and bitch endlessly about how they "have no honor," but savor tangling with the former in a "finally, worthy opponents!" way.
Then they met humans.
Humans have a long enough evolutionary history of big game hunting that this may have subjected us to significant selection pressure for increased cooperativeness that the warmonger aliens didn't get. But that isn't special in this context, the warmonger aliens have tangled with sapients descended from big game hunting carnivores before.
The thing that makes humans relevantly special is our relatively recent evolutionary history of being a prey species that engaged in collective defense, and the instincts we have that formed in that context but can be activated in other kinds of conflict.
Going back to that "real fights" thing earlier:
"but how often are you ever going to be in a fight where you’re willing to rip the other guy’s cheek out, gouge out his eyes and so forth?"
A fight against a predator that wants to eat your child looks like that.
If you're fighting a member of your own species, the entity you're fighting might be a relative, potential mate, or potential helper, so there's an incentive for restraint.
If you're a predator hunting, well, a carnivore species needs their prey species, that's their food source; smart lions wouldn't want to wipe out their prey species, they need their prey species, they would prefer their prey species thrive and be abundant and healthy; again there is an incentive for restraint; very plausibly one of the first lessons a sapient carnivore species would have to collectively learn after becoming sapient is restraint, learning that it would be all too easy to use their new, better weapons to kill too many of their prey and that they need to consciously avoid doing that.
Prey defending themselves from predators are the ones who'd have more-or-less zero incentive for restraint. If you can hurt or kill the lioness that's trying to eat your child, there is basically no reason to not go for it except self-preservation. Predators need their prey, but that's not symmetrical; prey don't need their predators, and sapient prey smart enough to do birth control and cull any dumber competitor species would probably be unambiguously much better off if all their predators dropped dead (Pleistocene humans could have done semi-reliable birth control by abstinence, outercourse, and lactational amenorrhea).
Humans are a slow-breeding species. A pride of lions could easily gradually eat a small early human band into extinction, and would have little incentive to avoid doing so cause humans aren't even their primary prey so when they ran out of humans they could just eat more of the antelope and so on that are already most of what they're eating anyway. The warmonger aliens have no evolutionary history of conflicts so existential.
The warmonger aliens have an idea of self-sacrificial heroism, but their version is entirely oriented (in an "adaptation executor, not fitness maximizer" way) toward burnishing the reputation of surviving close male relatives by association and thus increasing their reproductive success. They would have nothing in their recent evolutionary history like the experience of standing between a child and a hungry lioness. They would not grok "get away from her you bitch!" (that essay talks about the role of males in anti-predator defense but, yeah, women would have this too, who do you think would be the last line of defense for the children if a predator got past the male defensive ring?).
(The warmonger aliens definitely think it's a bit weird that we have mixed gender armies, not so much in a conventionally sexist way - they're inclined to see the size and strength differences between human men and women as obviously trivial compared to the much bigger sexual dimorphism of their species - but in that the idea of females caring enough about the outcome of a war to fight in it is alien to them. It's not that weird to them though, the big game hunter ancestry carnivore sapients they've encountered have mixed-sex armies and unwarlike sapients that try to resist conquest usually form them when they scramble to put a military together so it's got precedent in their experience.)
Like, yeah, the warmonger aliens are exactly the kind of people where some human commander would draw some of them into a clever trap they wouldn't anticipate cause prioritizing actually winning over looking heroic is alien behavior to them and then the comrades of the ones who died getting punked would bitch about how "dishonorable" it was of us to fight to win instead of obediently lining up to get slaughtered like cattle in some set-piece battle because that'd be the "honorable" thing by their definitions.
But also, something a lot like Londo Mollari's little speech about how brave the humans were in the Earth-Minbari war but it's some warmonger alien dominant bull describing the resistance we're putting up against his people and instead of admiration it's spoken with a tone of queasy puzzlement tinged with fear, irritation with our "irrational" resistance mixed with fear of the possible implications for what might happen if we start winning, it's alien behavior to him and he's admitting that it scares him.
Also, turns out species that have been strongly selected for solidarity (that's us!) are good at building equalizing coalitions and creating memes to coordinate them around, so not only are human ideologies of equality such as liberalism and communism effective at supercharging our resistance against imperialist conquest in a way that's an OCP to the warmonger aliens, they also turn out to be really disruptive to the warmonger aliens' shitty empire when some human chaos agents have fun spreading them around in it.
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Slime and Punishment - deviantart
Vik’Tor, being an alien and all that, found himself learning new things about Earth every day. Like how it was fine for men to go topless in public but not for women, or that it was inappropriate to talk about your sexual exploits with strangers. Strange. Luckily, due to his meek personality, he managed not to embarrass himself too much.
More to the point, there were so many things from his culture that he took for granted, but humans had no knowledge of! He was the only Torran on Earth, at least as far as he knew: the rest of his tribe generally turned out to be warmongering morons, and they only took interest in visiting planets when they wanted to conquer them. Things were peaceful here, and he’d found a cozy little town that accepted him.
Now he was working odd jobs, mainly to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He was only 29 moon-strides old, after all...he had plenty of time to discover his passions. Today’s job was filling in for a rich family’s gardener. Apparently the man had been struck by a car and flattened like a pancake, and someone needed to take over while the doctors were reinflating him. Vik didn’t mind the work: in fact he quite fancied a good day of honest labor. But, come lunch time, he was positively famished.
He tucked into a double-decker mustard and eggplant sandwich and swiftly downed a concoction of his own creation, lemonade and Bloody Mary mix. Others found his tastes revolting, but he loved finding new flavor combinations. The real star of the show, however, was dessert…
“Pardon me, but what is that you’re eating,” came a soft feminine voice from behind him. “I simply must know, it smells so wonderful!” Vik turned around, locking eyes with a slender young woman with caramel-colored skin. Or perhaps it was a particularly short man. He wasn’t sure which, nor did he know if it even mattered.
“Ah, this?” Vik remembered just in time not to talk with his mouth full, and promptly swallowed. “We call it korrupa, it is a traditional dessert amongst the Ulvions.” He held it up: a shimmering orb of green that seemed to have a life of its own.
“Oh, so that’s what your tribe is called? Fascinating.”
“Well,” said Vik awkwardly. “Not exactly. My people conquered their planet and slaughtered all of their men.”
“Oh.”
Even with his obvious lack of social skills, Vik could tell the conversation was grinding to a painful halt. “Well, the good news is that it is quite easy to get korrupa delivered. Did you know that this town has one of Earth’s only transdimensional portals?”
The short one shrugged. “I’m not surprised. I’ve lived here all my life and I learn something new about this place.” He fidgeted, looking plaintively at the glossy green glob that Vik was devouring. “Do you mind letting me have a sample of your korrupa? I’ll take just a tiny bit, but my chef’s curiosity is just eating me alive! I must have some!”
Vik paused. “Well, Missus, or Mister, or whatever Earth honorific suits you best, I don’t know if you would be suited to trying some...it is quite filling, and you are quite small.”
This earned a little titter from the short one. “I’ll be able to handle it, I assure you. Oh pardon my manners! I haven’t even introduced myself. Camille, no Earth honorifics necessary.” Camille offered one hand out to shake, the other to take.
“I am called Vik’Tor...but you really must consider! It could be ill-suited to your digestive tract! Or perhaps there would be some other unforeseen consequences…!”
Camille stuck his tongue out cutely, reaching out and grabbing the korrupa. Vik realized then how tiny the Earth creature was in comparison to him; his hands were like a child’s in comparison to Vik’s own, hefting up the wobbly substance and bringing it to his tiny little mouth.
The young man moaned softly, his slender lips wrapping around the korrupa and slurping it up eagerly. Within seconds the shimmering green mass—about the size of an Earth coconut—had disappeared down Camille’s gullet. “Oh! Pardon me,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to eat it all...but it was like it had a mind of its own! Hehe. It was remarkable, though! Absolutely delicious.”
Vik looked noticeably crestfallen at the loss of his dessert but didn’t bring it up. However, something that Camille had said sparked a realization inside him. “Oh, you did not know? Korrupa is a sentient creature, it would be quite accurate to say that it does indeed have a mind of its own. Were you not aware of this?”
Camille’s cheeks went noticeably green at this. “Oh dear. Did I just devour an alien without knowing?”
“Fear not,” said Vik, waving his hands quickly. “They are not harmed by this. In fact, they often reproduce inside warm, damp enclosed spaces. Us Torrans have rather dry insides, so we are not affected much. But I do not know about Earth creatures...”
Said Earth creature went even greener. “Oh dear...oh dear indeed.” His cheeks bulged slightly, as if about to gag. “I might have made a rather costly mistake…” But now Vik saw a truly bizarre sight: Camille’s face starting to glow. Not from the skin directly, but almost beneath it somehow. Most prominent were his cheeks—a bright lime green—which had really begun to puff up now. His lips, starting to run out of room on his face, began squashing into an askew O shape, the tiny opening revealing a growing colony of korrupa inside his mouth.
His belly began harboring the telltale green glimmer of his cheeks, the boy’s shirt quickly becoming near-translucent as the slime found a larger reservoir to reside in. Camille’s midriff, previously so thin as almost to be famished, started to bloat rapidly. Although not quite resembling pregnancy, his stomach was now so round and fertile as to immediately invite the comparison.
Camille gave a throttled moan, the korrupa inside his mouth jiggling as words tried in vain to escape. He gave Vik a desperate look, his hands unsure whether to cradle his burgeoning belly or try and unload the cargo inside his mouth. After a slight hesitation, they chose the latter. But as his fingers tried to pry apart his lips, a thick strand of the sentient goo snaked out and slapped away his hands.
“Korrupa do not like the breeding process to be interrupted,” said Vik weakly. “Although they do have a vested interest in keeping their host alive, so you will not have to worry about bursting or suffocating.” Small solace to Camille, who was now bent over with the weight of his ballooning belly.
His shirt, now so tight and see-through as to be mistaken for plastic wrap, was quickly starting to lose structural integrity. The only factor impeding the growth of his gut was Camille’s thin leather belt, now drawing taut and threatening to bisect his torso. The boy lurched forward, his hair falling over his face; if he could talk, it would undoubtedly be a deep moan of discomfort. Momentarily impeded by the belt, the korrupa moved further south to Camille’s rump, making it expand in much a similar fashion.
“I am aware it is rude to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did try and warn you of possible side effects,” mumbled Vik, avoiding eye contact and twiddling all four of his thumbs. “Had I known this would happen, I might have been more cautionary in my advice.” It brought him no pleasure to see this Earth creature inflate like a balloon, especially considering that korrupa could incubate for quite a while depending on compatibility with its host. Should he try and contact other family members? He knew they’d be around soon; would it look worse if he left Camille? Or if he just stayed there passively? There wasn’t much he could do at this point anyway.
Ping! The belt popped off, sending Camille’s belly wobbling like a bowl full of jelly. It might be mistaken for jelly at any rate: glossy, jiggling jelly that had an unearthly shine to it. It was a near perfect orb of green, only dimpled by his sunken-in navel, hanging off his torso rather awkwardly. It had become so big and distended by this point that it hardly seemed like an actual part of the young man, like a second-rate prosthetic. But there it was in both sets of his cheeks too, drawing his skin tight as more and more goo forced itself inside him. His face had become comically wide, two coconut-sized mounds of glistening green alternatively pulling his lips together and apart as they bounced softly. His behind was starting to catch up, though, his buttocks blimping up and making short work of his shorts.
Camille was short, even for a human, but nonetheless it was a surprise to see his tummy touch the ground. It was certainly less of a strain on his body now that gravity had done its work, but nonetheless he wasn’t exactly happy he’d gotten this big. His rear had already broken free from his shorts; but since Camille’s crotch was awkwardly mashed against his underbelly, his dignity was somewhat preserved. Were things slowing down? He was so enormous now that it was hard to tell.
Vik, having inwardly cursed himself for his inaction, decided to finally take off his upper garment and lay it across the boy’s bare butt. However, one last growth spurt caused the fabric to suck inwards, instantly getting lost inside the cleft of Camille’s ass cheeks. Well, he had tried. The young man could only sit there helplessly, the weight of his posterior threatening to pull him backwards, only anchored by his much larger stomach. Vik didn’t know every detail of domicile etiquette, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to be standing near-naked in your backyard.
“Well...I should probably get back to work,” said the alien awkwardly, slowly shuffling away. “I hear your family has a dinner party tonight...it would certainly be embarrassing if the garden was only half-finished.”
And, seemingly unaware of the supreme irony of that statement, went back to planting the petunias. Maybe Camille would share some korrupa once he was done breeding it...
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How to Develop Avatar’s Season 4 - Part 2
1 The Value of the Comics
The Avatar comics written by Bryke and Gene Yang have a lot of problems. The characters can be wonky at times, parts of the plot are bizarre, they are too short, too juvenile in tone, lack necessary details, certain key ideas are half-baked and the writing is poor overall. Whether you think highly of them or not, the comics are not lost causes and do have some lasting value (the artwork certainly looks like Avatar).
The value of the comics is that they provide a string of new conflicts that, when taken together, feel like natural outgrowths from the show. However, this only applies to the three Fire Nation-centered comics of The Promise, The Search and Smoke and Shadow. This is because these three volumes have common themes, subjects and conflicts running through them that tie directly into unresolved problems from the show, whereas the other comics are more or less just new adventures for the Gaang. Keep in mind that the Avatar comics are not Season 4. None of them are. But within the three Fire Nation comics are clues that reveal the potential that is inherent to established narrative for continuing the show past Aang’s journey.
And it begins with Zuko.
2 Where Aang’s Journey Ends, Zuko’s Endures
Aang’s journey in the show could be considered as consisting of a single, clear goal with a definite end game: master all four elements and defeat the Fire Lord. Once Aang masters all four elements, he is ready to face the Fire Lord. Once he defeats the Fire Lord, his journey is over. How he masters all four elements and defeats the Fire Lord is what makes the story deep and compelling. This is where Zuko comes in.
His journey wasn’t clear for half of the show. Until Iroh spelled it out for him (and us viewers) in Avatar and the Fire Lord, it appeared they were setting up Zuko as a morally ambiguous wild card who could end up on either side. Why Zuko’s inner turmoil was important to Aang’s journey was less clear. Indeed, we did not know the full importance of Zuko’s journey until he stood up to his father in Day of Black Sun and taught us why his story was important: he was the crown prince abandoning the evil ways of his country to help the Avatar save the world. So you’d think that when Zuko helped Aang master firebending, defeated his sister in the Agni Kai and was crowned Fire Lord at the end of the show that his journey was over, right? That being crowned Fire Lord was Zuko’s reward for being a sensitive, gentle soul unlike the ruthless, warmongering norm in his family? That he’d spend the rest of his days slowly coping with his trauma while enjoying endless, relaxing days of romantic bliss with Mai? That he wouldn’t face internal opposition from the diehards and stalwarts of the old regime? That, from the start of his reign, he would be leading a Fire Nation that was fully accepting of him and everything he stood for… Right?
Wrong.
3 The Tragedy of the Fire Nation
In addition to the overarching conflict of the Hundred Year War and Aang’s need to defeat the Fire Lord, there were numerous subtle threads running throughout the show that gave the story its heart and soul: the tragic, lasting effects of war on a people and their culture, the effects of foisting too much responsibility on children, the importance of friendship and having people to lean on, among many others. One of these threads concerned the topic of how decent, normal people can turn bad.
In Season 1, it is revealed that Avatar Roku—a firebender—was a respectable, honorable avatar despite being a member of the Fire Nation. In the same season, a Fire Sage helps Aang in his journey to connect with Roku, despite being from the Fire Nation and loyal to the Fire Lord at the same time. In The Blue Spirit, Aang laments to Zuko how one of his best friends was Fire Nation and says to his enemy, “Do you think we could have been friends, too?”
A Fire Nation admiral and firebending master—Jeong Jeong—deserts out of disillusionment with the war. Iroh fights Zhao to stop him from destroying the Moon Spirit, to which Zhao does agree, for a moment, until his temper gets the better of him, showing that concern for harmony and balance isn’t an entirely lost concept in the Fire Nation.
In Season 2, Aang rescues the Fire Nations occupying governors’ child, despite the practical advantage of keeping it as a hostage, and we are explicitly shown how happy this makes the invaders. Zuko becomes a truly sympathetic character in Zuko Alone, showing how he has always struggled to live up to the expectations of his warmongering family, despite being a member of the Fire Nation, and leading up to Season 2’s finale, Zuko and Irohs’ disillusionment with their country reaches new heights, showing that the militaristic expectations of the Fire Nation isn’t even embraced by all members of its ruling family.
In Season 3, the Gaang lives in the Fire Nation. We see Fire Nation people, their kids, their towns, their daily lives. Aang is actually excited to be in the Fire Nation because it reminds him how much fun it was before the war. In Avatar and the Fire Lord, Roku is shown to have been the best friend of the Fire Lord that started the war, but Sozin’s desire and will to achieve his goals corrupted him, and in that same episode, Aang comments that friendships can transcend lifetimes, suggesting that the Avatar and the Fire Nation can be friends again. Ultimately, this is proven true when Zuko joins the Gaang, helps them stop the war and becomes friends with Aang.
But most importantly, at the start of every episode, Katara says the Four Nations used to live together in harmony.
What the show was saying, in so many small ways, was that what the Fire Nation was doing and what it had become were neither normal for the Avatar world, nor for the Fire Nation. Not even Chin the Conqueror’s conquests of the Earth Kingdom holds a candle to the Fire Nation’s multiple layers of evil, self-interest and disregard for world balance. While the existence of the all-powerful Avatar, in theory, helps keep the peace between the four nations, the Fire Nation did not used to be hostile to the other nations. Sozin changed the old Fire Nation, the one that was peaceful and enlightened, that achieved an unprecedent era of prosperity that convinced Sozin that the Fire Nation was first among equals. The fun, friendly Fire Nation that Aang remembered was lost and it stayed lost for a hundred years…
… And the solution was not to destroy the Fire Nation.
4 The True Purpose of Zuko’s Journey
Until the series finale, Zuko’s journey appeared to be about him achieving moral redemption for his time spent as a halfhearted, incompetent, semi-accomplice in his nation’s evils. But Zuko did not turn against his father and help the Avatar in order to redeem himself for his sins. He turned against his country because he was alienated by it and couldn’t meet its expectations; because it was what Iroh expected of him. His heart told him that betraying Iroh in Ba Sing Se was wrong and that he needed to right that wrong. To Zuko, doing the right thing meant following Iroh’s guidance and accepting him as his true father, and to do that required switching sides. Zuko’s redemption was not achieved when he became Fire Lord at the end of the show, but when Iroh hugged and forgave him. That was the moment of catharsis for Zuko.
Unfortunately, Zuko’s troubles were deeper than his banishment and Agni Kai with his father: he didn’t belong in the Fire Nation that he was born into. He was a normal boy born into an abnormal situation that he didn’t have the personality for. He didn’t have the ruthlessness, intelligence, competence and raw talent for militarism and totalitarian rule that his sister had, so he failed to live up to his father’s self-serving, power hungry expectations which, in turn, represented the peak of malice, moral corruption and ruling-through-fear that the war had instilled in the leadership of the country.
So when Zuko finally realized the righteous path and followed it, his story was over, right? He stood up to his father and Iroh forgave him. He showed us that he had a pure heart and was a good person and good, moral people are supposed to be rewarded for their innate qualities, right? What only mattered to Zuko’s journey was that he help the Avatar, vanquish his sister and end the war by royal decree so that a new era of love and peace could begin… Right?
Wrong again. Iroh even say so when he tells Zuko that his journey is not over when they are together in the White Lotus camp in The Phoenix King:
“… Someone new must take the throne. An idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko… And only you can restore the honor of the Fire Nation.”
Until that moment, Zuko had no visions of himself as the ruler of his country, never mind changing anything about it. To him, the Fire Nation he grew up in is the Fire Nation. As he understood it, his father had to be eliminated, the airships destroyed and the rest of the world defended from what remained of the Fire Nation’s power. Him taking the throne was an afterthought at that point, never mind what to do about his sister. Perhaps he thought that stopping his father and helping Aang become a fully-realized Avatar would be enough to intimidate Azula (and the rest of his country) into peace, since there appeared to be no plan to militarily dominate the Fire Nation. That’s a topic for another day, however.
Whatever Zuko thought his endgame was, he didn’t know it, but Iroh knew it. Avatar Roku knew it. The White Lotus knew it and Aang came to know it. Zuko’s journey was not to prove that he is a good person on the inside. It was not to turn against the Fire Nation. It was not to teach Aang firebending. It wasn’t even to defeat his sister and assume the crown. Those were just means to his journey’s end. Zuko’s journey was, and always has been, to be the Fire Lord that redeems the Fire Nation.
And it wasn’t over when the final credits rolled.
5 The Two Parts of Zuko’s Journey
Zuko’s journey could be thought of as having two parts. Part one is in the show. It is where Zuko learns why the Fire Nation needs to change and what he needs to do to change it: help Aang, defeat Azula and become Fire Lord. Part two would be the trials and tribulations that he must go through that result in the Fire Nation’s redemption, or at least the key events that set it on that path. Redeeming the Fire Nation, however, is not a process solved by merely wearing the Fire Lord’s crown. It is not enough for him to have a pure heart and have unquestionable honor. He has to make the right choices when it comes to weening his country off of war, conquest, colonies and a massive military industry, to say nothing of the culture that supports all of that. He has to reform the members of the old regime: the generals, admirals, soldiers, nobles and true believers. He has to get the people who are resentful of him on his side. This is not a simple, good versus evil, 3-months-later-having-tea-in-Ba-Sing-Se kind of problem.
As it turns out, that’s what the creators think too. The three Fire Nation comics, which are sanctioned continuations of the franchise immediately following the timeline in the show, are about this very topic. While the comics are not Season 4, they provide a framework for understanding how Zuko’s unfinished journey is the logical basis for a 4th season: Zuko’s dismantling of the colonies is not sunshine and daisies, but assassination attempts and opposition.
Keep Reading - Part 3
#avatar#avatar comics#avatar meta#zuko#azula#Avatar The Last Airbender#atla#the promise#the search#smoke and shadow#atla meta#avatar book 4#avatar reboot#aang#avatar aang#fire lord zuko#zuko meta#princess azula#azula meta#fire siblings#uncle iroh#iroh#ursa#fire nation#bryke#writing#storytelling#fandom
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The Substance of Love - Chapter 3: Klaus x Female Reader
Chapter 1 is here
Chapter 2 is here
Word count: ~ 1950
Warnings: This is where the tender, loving SMUT is.
_________________________________________________________
“So you finished it?,” Klaus inquired, his mouth full of instant noodles.
“Yeah”
“And….”
“Oh my god, it’s so epic. I never thought I’d root so hard for the antichrist….Heaven is full of hard ass warmongers…The devil is a deadbeat dad. That shit is priceless! And, of course, Azirafale and Crowley are so perfect together. I’d ship them.”
“I really like you, Y/N.“ Klaus said, his eyes focused on you.
"Aren’t you, uh?…You stammered.
"What?" He grinned, still staring and enjoying your embarrassment a little.
"I mean, I’m not completely…either, but I thought…” Your voice got caught in your throat and your cheeks grew hot.
“Never mind. What I meant to say is, me too, Klaus. I like you too.” You started frantically checking around the pillows on the couch. “Oh for fuck’s sake - Where is the remote? I still need to show you my favorite movie.”
“Since when do you swear this much?,” Klaus teased.
You bopped him in the face with one of the pillows then settled into a comfortable position.
“I guess the ghosts decided to give you a break, hu?”
“Oh no. We’re definitely not alone. It’s like listening to two or more conversations at once. My brother, Ben is here. He’s a real chatty bitch.”
“Is he the one with the…" You mime a creature bursting out of your chest.
Klaus laughed. “Yeah. You know he can see you.”
“Oh, right…I’m just saying ‘Aliens’ might not be the best choice of movies.”
Your phone buzzed with a text from Kendra. It said ‘call me - important.’
“Ooh. I’ve gotta make a quick call.”
“Alright, I’ll go outside for a smoke,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just a smoke,” he assured you.
“Okay. Give me five minutes." Klaus shut the door and you turned your attention to Kendra.
"Hey Kendra, what’s so important?”
“Is Klaus there?" Her tone of voice made you nervous.
"He went out for a smoke, why?”
“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this….She paused and took a deep breath. "Klaus and I have been seeing each other. I know you two are close. Has he mentioned it to you?
"Um, no." You reply, still processing the information.
"That’s what I was afraid of. I just hope he’s not giving you the wrong idea. He’s also been telling me things. He told me why you got fired from Mount Saini. I just wanted to warn you, before you got too involved. He’s not who you think he is, Y/N. Just be careful.
"Okay, I appreciate you telling me." You wiped the tears that had already formed on your face as Klaus opened the door. He noticed immediately that something was wrong.
"What is it? What happened?" He rushed over and tried to comfort you, but you just stared at the ground with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, hurt but not wanting to confront him. You were embarrassed for thinking Klaus might have romantic feelings for you.
"I have a job interview in the morning. I think you should go,” was all you could manage to say without crying.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded. His hands gripped the back of his neck and he looked as if he was about to cry himself. The more he insisted, the more you felt like you were being played. Kendra’s words still rang in your ears.
“I don’t owe you an explanation. Just get the fuck out,” you said, effectively ending the argument. Klaus searched your eyes for a compromise, but he found them unrelenting. Instead of slamming the door, as you may have expected, Klaus closed the door so carefully it barely made a sound, which was somehow worse. You started crying as soon as he was gone.
A few minutes into your breakdown, just as a headache was beginning to form, you went into the kitchen for some water and it dawned on you. Maybe Kendra was lying. Klaus looked genuinely confused and upset. After leaving your place, Klaus would have gone to Kendra’s or to the club to score drugs. If you found him at the club, that could mean he wasn’t with Kendra after all. It was worth a shot.
You headed downtown to the spot he always talked about in group, 'The Shark Tank.' You were so conflicted. Part of you wanted to find him there, suggesting that maybe he did have feelings for you and not Kendra. Another part of you was devastated to think of him using again and that you had something to do with it. You were so torn, you thought about buying some street pills and just getting high. This is the point when you would have called your sponsor, which reminded you that you needed a new sponsor ASAP.
Klaus’ description the club in group really flattered the place. It was actually a grimy hole in the wall, chock full of sweaty club kids. It would seem that at thirty, Klaus had outgrown it. But then there he was, leaning against the wall looking despondent. You were relieved to see him there, but still anxious about what you might learn. He looked up at you confused. The music was so loud you had to get close and practically yell into his ear.
“Did you take anything?" Klaus just opened his hand. In it was a standard little plastic baggie of amphetamines. He looked up at you, clearly feeling the blunt force of his emotions. He was clean.
"What stopped you?" You asked, wondering how he had the strength.
"I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you." The significance of this made your heart jump, but you couldn’t let it stop you from your purpose.
"Klaus, I have to ask you something."
"Please! I have to know what you’re mad about. I seriously have no clue.”
“Kendra knows about my past, not about my power, but she knows the reason I was fired from the hospital…You didn’t -”
“No, I didn’t tell her that! I wonder how she would-”
“You’re not sleeping with Kendra, are you?”
“God, no! I haven’t talked to her since the last NA meeting. She came onto me, but I wasn’t into it. I turned her down and she didn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d try anything like this,” Klaus replied, looking genuinely distraught.
You looked into those haunted green eyes and you knew you believed him. Klaus was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. Kendra had raised some doubt during a moment of weakness, but she was manipulating you. You had real, tangible feelings for Klaus and it was time he knew it.
You held his head in your hands and kissed him delicately on the lips. Then you pulled back holding your breath for his reaction. A split second passed which felt like a millennia while he sorted his thoughts. Then he smiled, pulled you close, and kissed you with an intensity that affirmed everything you had hoped for. His passion persuaded you to move your body to the music with his. Dancing was something you had rarely, if ever done sober. But it felt so good to finally have your body pressed against his that the rhythm came naturally to you. His hands were wrapped around your waist and yours had found their way to the back of his neck. Klaus nuzzled into your ear and whispered, “Wanna get outta here?”
Buy the time you got to your apartment, you were so desperate for each other, you barely made it through the door without tumbling onto the floor. You each began shedding your clothes. Your eyes raked over his smooth skin and lean muscles, adding to the growing wet heat between your legs. He was likewise aroused by the sight of you removing your sundress. His tight leather pants were made tighter by the sight of your naked silhouette. You grabbed teasingly at his bulge while he explored your mouth with his tongue. “Let me help you with this,” you said into his lips, as your fingers fumbled with his fly. He trailed sensual kisses down your neck and shoulders.
When his pants fell down around his ankles he kicked them off then lifted you off the ground to straddle him. Your breath caught in you throat as he spun you around towards the bed. He put you down gently and trailed his fingertips softly through the hollow between your breasts, over the soft curve of your stomach, and down to your aching pleasure center. He looked into your eyes as his fingers danced and played with your sensitive flesh. You gasped and moaned, reacting to his subtle and not so subtle movements. He dragged his lips down to your breast and sucked your nipple into his mouth while he slipped his fingers into your tight wet void. You bucked forward and he swirled his thumb against your swollen bundle of nerves. There was no holding back, you came before you even realized what was happening, moaning and twitching and spasming around Klaus’ fingers.
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and giving them a little taste.
You reached up, wrapping one hand gently around his neck and purred, “I need you now, Klaus.”
That was all he needed. You felt his throat muscles clench and his erection press harder against your belly. He slipped into you so easily and filled you completely. Then he began thrusting, grinding, and building friction exactly where you wanted it. Another orgasm pulsed through you, and Klaus watched your body arch and react. He cracked a proud little smile as he continued. After riding out your climax, you seized his shoulders and rolled on top of him. You wanted to make him feel the way he made you feel. You rocked your hips forward until he was buried to the hilt. You intuitively wrapped your hands around his neck and squeezed lightly as you bounced up and down. It wasn’t long before Klaus was bucking and releasing himself deep inside you.
“Wow, that was….”
“Um hm.”
You dismounted carefully and rested your head on the pillow next to him. You laid there together a moment, just catching your breath. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together.
“So, this is going to sound random …My father died a few weeks ago. You were still in rehab. I went back home for the funeral and saw all my brothers and sisters. It got me thinking.”
“Oh god, that’s right. I remember seeing it in the news. I’m so sorry, Klaus. I can’t believe I didn’t even acknowledge it.”
“Seriously, don’t worry about it…He will not be missed…The point I was trying to make is that if you’re interested, I ‘d like to take you home…to meet my family.”
“Oh my god, Klaus, yes!” You peppered his face with featherlight kisses, then you settled in behind him, one arm under the pillow and the other slung over his hip.
“Oh, wait. I really do have a job interview in the morning.” You suddenly remembered and leaned over to set your alarm. “And let’s confront Kendra at the next meeting. She shouldn’t get away with this shit and I’d love to know where she got her information.”
“Mmm,” Klaus writhed against you. “You’re sexy when you plot revenge.”
“Go to sleep,” you chuckled, kissing his curls.
Want more?
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#klaus x reader#klaus hargreeves imagine#klaus hargreeves X reader#klaus hargreeves series#klaus hargreeves angst#tua imagine#tua fanfic#tua smut#tua#robert sheehan imagine#tua series#The Umbrella Academy#umbrella academy imagine#robert sheehan x reader#number 4#klaus hargreeves smut
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im a fuckin mess rn thinking abt how much i love FMA and ME at the same time, my love for both these stories could move mountains, and i remembered when i first played me3 last year, i realized that i thought ME is the second-best story i’ve seen that explores humanity for... what it is, and what it’s worth, with fma being the best. i’ve been meaning to revisit that idea for a while, because i was so busy playing in the moment i didn’t really think abt why. so anyway here’s some dumb meta. mild spoilers for ME and FMA
(this isn’t a post meant to make the argument that FMA is better, though imo since FMA is like... quite likely the closest a human being has ever come to making a perfect story, that might color some of my meta here.)
i ran into this quote the other day that really sums up my ideas abt what i think both stories are about: "If you are writing any book about the end of the world, what you are really writing about is what’s worth saving about it." — Justin Cronin
both stories involve a protagonist serving in the military. both stories involve humanity doing terrible things to itself, either to survive or in the nature of supposed “evolutionary progress.” both stories involve very tough discussions on morality and the value of human life (or in ME’s case, sentient life at all). both stories use the theme of body horror, and “swallowing” people (souls or genetic matter) to create “the next stage” of humanity under the guise of “the betterment of the world/universe.” both stress the emphasis on personal relationships being one of the strongest reason why life is worth living.
(i feel like i’ve blabbed a lot about how shepard/garrus themes remind me of mustang/hawkeye too, which may be one of the reasons i’m so attracted to it, but that’s a post for another day)
ultimately what i like abt these stories is that they line up all of the reasons why humanity can be terrible and inhumane and selfish, it lines up the very worst that we do to each other, and yet for every reason why, they give edward and shepard reasons to find double that many reasons to fight to preserve it. there is no question that for all their valid criticisms against humanity, the reapers and father must be stopped.
for example, the reapers harvest genetic matter in every cycle in order to continue their function. it’s a matter of continuation for them; every cycle is a fight for their survival as well. but there’s absolutely no question that they are in the wrong. if peace were an option, it should be taken, but it isn’tt. the reapers don’t know the meaning of peace, however much they think they were built for it. and maybe that’s why the ME3 ending irritates and also fascinates me. the catalyst shows up and makes one last-ditch attempt at convincing shepard that synthesis is the correct path forward for all sentient life in the galaxy, because the reapers are scared of dying, too. they don’t want to be destroyed. they want to convince shepard that destroying them is against her better interest. for me, the answer is still obvious: i chose destroy because i believe any species whose very nature requires active endangerment and widespread destruction of other life forms is not a species worth saving. (maybe on earth, nature conservatists will say that says something about my bad politics, but for the sake of fictional species in scifi, that’s my stance.)
and we... kind of have a similar thing in FMA, but on a different kind of level, with the homunculi. at the end father is revealed to be a relatively simple thing that is absolutely terrified of confinement, of losing the individuality it has gained with its human origins (that it enjoys rejecting). it was extracted from the gate of truth and given the material properties of a human, including all of human’s flaws, and very human desires: knowledge, power, wealth, with the means to achieve them and absolutely no ethical code. i think what i like about father as a villain is that... he was born from humanity just as much as from the essence within the gate. he is everything that’s wrong with us spruced up with the power of a god. and he is defeated by the best of us who come together to say “humanity can and must be better than you” and decide that they’re going to make it that way.
obviously with ME it’s less of an emphasis on humanity and more of a “our differences make us stronger” story. substitute in humans for aliens and humanity for sentient life and the sentiment is much the same. one thing that actually irritated me when i first played ME was the fact that there was so little difference between humanity and most alien species. the asari and turians and salarians etc are not particularly stronger or smarter or more advanced, however they sometimes acted like it. they could be just as petty and arrogant and violent. then i realized that’s kind of the point of the story (not to mention what drives the necessity for a protagonist in story-world): what if we make it to the final frontier and... everyone else out there is just like us? within the sake of the story, it means that no one else is going to solve our problems, and when the reaper threat comes, we can’t count on someone else to save the day. we’re going to have to roll up our sleeves and do it ourselves.
father consumes human souls to create philosopher’s stones for energy he uses to keep consuming souls. reapers convert humans into husks and break down their genetic material to create more reapers. both of them see themselves as the apex of life, the top of the food chain.
there’s this great set of lines from van hohenheim to father in the climax of the show: “you insist on treating humans like a lower life form. but don’t you see? only through them can a philosopher’s stone be created. and only through a stone can a homunculus arise. but what does a homunculus produce? what do you create? creation is all, and you’ve done nothing but destroy. you may think you’ve reached a perfect state of being, but all you are is a dead end.”
like, what kind of an awesome fucking message. a huge insult, but he’s right. what’s the point of a species that doesn’t give back? what did the homunculi ever offer to the world that humans weren’t already? and what did the reapers give back to the universe? they took and processed and recycled people but they never changed the status quo; the universe literally remained static. life had no chance to grow beyond fifty thousand years. the reapers’ programming assumed that self-destruction was an inherent trait in organic life. they considered themselves the betterment of all life for accepting this inevitability and for destroying civilizations before it became a reality. and it’s possible they were right, that it is an inherent trait and our biggest weakness, but without the chance to evolve beyond it, like, how are we ever gonna know for sure? the reapers’ are the pessimist’s solution to solving modern civilization! and shepard is the stubborn optimist’s response to the reapers! i love that.
and also, about the military aspect... god this post is so disorganized... so i’ve been thinking about how both stories tackle the fact that, by necessity their protagonists are part of the military. (i’ve been meaning to write some meta about how bioware specifically uses the military in ME/DA as, like, a prop? but i always forget.) first off, i actually love that shepard is a soldier. for me, it gives me something to latch onto about the character, and it tells me a bit about who they are. thanks largely in part to the writing and hale’s fantastic voice acting since i always play femshep anyway. but in a larger sense I just... i love how FMA talked about the military while simultaneously being wrapped up in it. it was a story about that openly discussed imperialism, genocide, warmongering, and the dangers of military states. in ME, there was none of that, because i guess nobody wants to see real life politics in a video game, people would throw fits. so they don’t want to hear criticism of the rl military within a game that features a badass commanding officer like shepard, who has devoted their life to the alliance.
again, for me... this is not a bad thing for shepard’s character. i like it. it makes sense that shepard is a marine first. we need a war hero who cannot hesitate when making tough calls. but i have to admire that FMA went further. edward is in a position to see the military’s faults more clearly; shepard is a top agent who often has to find the best possible solution to a problem with her hands tied behind her back. edward is part of an organization with a centuries-long history of abuse that he finds himself unable to defend or stand buy the more he learns about it; shepard is built by the military, rebuilt by a paramilitary terrorist group, and then used by both and forced to fight for others with no promise of help in return. god where was i going with this. anyway i like FMA just that bit more because i feel like wherever ME was going... FMA hit the high score, then kept going and going until it doubled that high score. and maybe also at FMA’s heart is a glimpse at the ME3 ending that could’ve been. i don’t know.
anyway what is the point of this post. the new point of this post is that i just remembered greed didn’t deserve to die and im gonna fucking call arakawa about it right this second
#megan talks about bw#megan talks about fma#next time on megan blabs: shepard/garrus and roy/riza parallels because what the Fuck
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Cleansing the Crimes of Old Krypton: Comparisons Between Superman #1-6 and Supergirl #1-6
Ever since the rise of the comic-book anti-heroes, Superman and his family were positioned by writers in the opposition to them. This is a natural progression for those who understand the character’s roots as the hero of the little folk. Such qualities are resonating with the liberal and socialist ideals. Meanwhile, antiheroes often voice ideas that would be very terrifying if said by real-life politicians. The efficiency being presented as more important than human rights or collateral damage. The idea that the justice system only stops the protagonist from doing what’s necessary. An approach where stopping the bad guys is more important than protecting the innocent. These ideas can easily be applied to politics. And as a result, lead to authoritarian or outright fascist thinking. Don’t get me wrong. Some people claim if Batman won’t kill the Joker, he has the blood of Joker’s future victims on his hands. I’m not saying they’re cheering Donald Trump saying federal judges who overruled his ban on Muslim Immigrants are to blame if a terrorist attack happens. But we need to recognize the parallels.
Many successful antihero stories were built on exploring the consequences of this approach. You can find those themes everywhere from The Authority and V for Vendetta to Code Geass. Sadly, lately, we have a continuous increase of those problems being glossed over. And not only for actual antiheroes but even more upstanding characters. Especially in movies. Once paragons of virtue on big screen become terrifying. And yet we're supposed to cheer when they commit atrocities. Violating borders of a foreign country, intruding on people’s privacy, destroying an entire city in battle, murdering people. It all becomes not only justified but even glorified. They say it’s okay for “good guys” to do those things. Because otherwise, we’re all going to die. Because they’ll stop once the danger is gone, pinky swear. Because only the bad guys get hurt and killed. So relax and handle all the power and no accountability to those guys, they need it to protect you.
Superman stories often tackled this issue. Sometimes results is a compelling, meaningful voice in the discussion. Other times we get an awful, hypocritical story. That is given praise regardless because it sticks it up to the other side. “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice And American Way” and it’s adaptation “Superman vs the Elite” are a prime example. There Superman proves wrong the Authority knockoffs who claim that might makes right. By beating the living shit out of them, thus proving that might do indeed makes right…. if you’re Superman. Thankfully, two stories I want to talk about do not have this problem.
For inspirations, both stories reach back. To a tale of 4 individuals that tried to replace Superman after his supposed death - Reign of Supermen. Superman books under Rebirth banner, in general, try to recreate the feel of that era. Superman is dead and his replacements start showing up. Kenan Kong in the New Super-Man, Lana Lang in Superwoman, even Lex Luthor dons the cape. But DC managed to have their cake and eat it too. The main Superman book still has it's Man of Steel. It's Superman from another Universe, with wife and son. He is more in line with old DC Continuity, compared to Superman that died. Meanwhile, Supergirl reaches to feel more like beloved TV Series, even if Kara is still a teenager. To connect with Reign of Supermen both books use a different way. They reach for its “bad” Supermen - Eradicator and Cyborg Superman. They also revamp them to have them fit a specific purpose.
Or use earlier revamps, as is the case with Cyborg Superman. Before Flashpoint this name was held by Hank Henshaw, a scientist with a grudge. In New 52 he is the man who had sent Kara to Earth from Argo, last surviving city of Krypton. Her father, Zor-El. He failed to save the whole colony and is desperate to undo past failures. He turns dead corpses of his citizens and even wife into cyborgs like him. But to regain sentience the need to consume life force of intelligent beings. Then Zor-El hears Kara cry in her moment of doubt. She question she’ll even be able to fit on Earth and how strange and, well, alien, our customs are for her. Her father doesn’t hesitate. He decides to invade Earth, harvest humanity to resurrect Argo and take his daughter back.
Eradicator was absent from New 52 era of DC, to resurface in Rebirth, with a simplified origin. Before Flashpoint it was an alien A.I. obsessed over Krypton. In Rebirth Eradicators were created by General Zod. It was a mechanical police force used against both criminals and political rivals. This one came back to life through contact with the blood of Superman’s son, Jonathan. And then vowed to protect and restore Krypton’s legacy. Starting with the last heir of House of El, Superman himself. Clark is reluctant to trust the robot when it offers to examine Jon’s health and fluctuating powers. Turns out it was a good call. Eradicator decides that being half-human half-Kryptonian, Jon is impure. And that the best way to heal him is to eradicate human part of his DNA. Jon would become fully Kryptonian, but also cease to exist as a person he was up to this point.
Both those villains have a history of representing darker shades of Krypton. In old continuity, Eradicator was a go-to explanation for every Krypton-related bad thing. Villainous interpretation of Zor-El is nothing new either. Before Flashpoint his whole motivation was "He hates his brother, Jor-El". He didn't send Kara away to save her, but to make her kill Kal-El. He had brainwashed his own daughter to make her a weapon against her cousin.
If anything, this version of him comes off as, if not sympathetic, then at least pitiable. Flashbacks show us he was a caring, loving father, who sent Kara away to protect her. It makes it much more tragic to see how far he has fallen. Even Kara starts to feel bad for him over the course of the story. She recognizes in him a man haunted by his failures, whose actions are a desperate try to fix everything. But Supergirl still calls him out. She points out that he doesn't care about anything but himself anymore. If he did, he’d see how twisted his “solution” actually is and try to find a better one. The results were more important than how he achieved them. And things like mass murder became merely means to an end. It doesn't matter how many he has to kill. It doesn't matter he turned his wife and friends into mechanical monsters. Once he gets them back, everything will be back to normal, he tells himself. He expects his wife and daughter to go back to their old life and ignore all the blood on his hands. He is delusional. When his wife regains part of her mind, she sacrifices herself to save Kara's adoptive mother. She'd rather be dead than part of this. Does it get to him? No. because for Zor-El it doesn't matter how appalling his methods are. Only that he wins.
Both Zor-El and Eradicator are operating on racist and xenophobic assumptions. They see everyone who is not Kryptonian as inferior and disposable. The whole idea of a Kryptonian living with human family is appalling to them. Zor-El several times states he never meant for Kara to stay on Earth forever. He expects her to simply abandon her new home, now that it served its purpose. He also mentions in passing wars betweenKrypton and other races. It's implied they were as horrible as what he is doing now. Meanwhile, what is Eradicator? A Kryptonian version of police brutality and law-enforcement being used for political reasons. All these factors make the reader ask a question neither of the villains bothered with. Should you bring old Krypton back? If Kryptonians were warmongering xenophobes, then why should they return? Who is to say if they do, they won’t go down the same path again? Neither Eradicator nor Zor-El makes a strong case against this argument. Not when they’re willing to stomp into the ground anyone who stands in their way.
We live in times when people in power tell us we need to give up parts of our freedoms for our own protection. That we need to do whatever it takes, no matter how unethical, to protect our way of life from “the enemy”. Even if it means crushing rights of those different from us. This is no different from many anti-heroes in comics. How often do we see one accusing more restrained superheroes of not having what it takes to “get the job done”? Or claim not only are they too weak, but people they protect are dumb masses easy to sway and control? Those themes are still being explored by creators of both books. Peter Tomasi and Patrick Gleason do it through later Superman villain, the Prophecy. Lord Havok and the Extremists serve this role in Steve Orlando’s JLA. But it isn’t enough to have heroes beat this type of villains. What is even more important is how they beat them. As I mentioned above, in that kind of stories it’s easy to come off as a hypocrite, if you play your hand wrong.
Luckily, even on that ground, the stories are on point. Neither Superman nor Supergirl can defeat their enemies alone. It is the strength of family, friends, and allies that allow them to overcome this threat. As Kara says, she isn’t on Earth to inspire humans – they inspire each other. Threat Eradicator and Zor-El present cannot be defeated by an individual. It needs the united effort of everyone it threatens. Even average people like Cat Grant or Bibbo Bibbowski have their part to play. It’s love, family, and unity that save the day.
And in true classic fashion, they are both shown mercy. While Eradicator’s physical form is destroyed, Superman’s very aware that’s not enough to kill him. Meanwhile, Cyborg Superman ends immobilized and imprisoned. The story ends with Kara hoping to find a way to save her father. If you follow solicits you know they’ll both be back in May’s Action Comics. Some might complain about the never-ending nature of superhero comics. How no victory is ever meaningful because the villain will come back. It’s one of the major problems raised by supporters of the antiheroes. But looking at those villains a metaphor for fascist tendencies, it works. Fascism can be beaten, but it cannot be killed. It will always find a way to creep back under a different name. The weakness of anti-hero stories lies in them giving the reader a fake sense of finality. They tell us we have to do whatever it takes, even if it’s immoral and unethical, to win against the evil. That once we beat it, it’s gone and we can go back to normal. But that’s not true. Evil is forever and it will keep coming at you in new forms. We can see it in today’s world as well. Not so long ago many folks would say fascism died when WWII was over. Allies victory over this evil was final and definite. The questionable choices made by them like bombing civilian cities, were justified because fascism is now dead. Once put down it will never rise to power again. And then Richard Spencer and Steve Bannon started making the news…..
The purpose of this text is not to bash on fans of the antihero characters. But when working with them it's important to show their questionable aspects. Otherwise, they can become propaganda tools for the worst kind of people.
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Winning Isn’t Everything
“You, sir, under historic scrutiny, were proven innocent.” Donald Trump to Brett Kavanaugh, Oct. 8, 2018
“The President addressed the comments back during the campaign. We feel strongly that the people of the country also addressed that when they elected Donald Trump president.” Sarah Huckabee Sanders on Donald Trump’s taped comments bragging about groping women, Dec. 7, 2017
“The White House response is that he’s not going to release his tax returns. We litigated this all through the election. People didn’t care. They voted for him.” Kellyanne Conway, Jan. 22, 2017
——
Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, the Trump administration is trying to persuade its audience of a deeply pernicious version of “might makes right:” that a political victory counts as moral vindication. The case at hand is the idea that now-Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation by the Senate somehow disproves the allegations of sexual assault against him. Trump was unusually explicit about this on Monday, but expect to hear variations of it from him, other members of his administration, and the talking-points-reciting apologists in Congress and elsewhere for a long time to come.
No one actually, consciously believes that a political victory can prove the victor innocent of charges that were under dispute at the time. In any dispute about whom to elect or appoint to a public office, many different issues are in play and the decision-makers (voters, senators, etc.) might decide that a particular charge is true, or probably true, and yet outweighed by other considerations. Or the decision-makers might think the charge is false and be wrong about that, since the election or the confirmation hearing wasn’t a criminal trial and didn’t involve the careful presentation of all the evidence. (And even a not-guilty verdict at a criminal trial doesn’t prove innocence; it only says that proof beyond a reasonable doubt hasn’t been provided to the satisfaction of these jurors and/or this judge.) Stated generally, there’s surely nothing controversial about any of this. Treating an election or a confirmation vote as proof of innocence is an updated version of the superstition associated with trial by combat: If I were guilty, the gods wouldn’t have let me win.
And yet the repeated use of this kind of might-makes-right argument by the Trump administration doesn’t strike their audience as jarringly absurd. It resonates, and lends itself to easy repetition. Why?
Part of the answer, of course, is simply that this is the kind of thing Trump does, and does well. Big, absurd lies have their own value as demonstrations of power. The Washington Post’s Greg Sargent has been emphasizing since Sean Spicer’s term-opening lies about inaugural crowd size that the administration relies on a strategy of clouding the existence of a shared reality based on shared facts (remember Conway’s “alternative facts” or Rudy Giuliani’s repeated variations on Pontius Pilate’s shrugging question, “What is truth?”), with the effect of solidifying the Republican base’s resistance to any evidence of wrongdoing. That such nonsense “triggers the libs” is a bonus.
But some nonsense works better than others, and this nonsense both rhymes with some truths and rests on a very widespread kind of mistaken belief.
Trial by combat was an absurd method for discovering the truth, except insofar as the participants believed in it and guilty parties therefore didn’t see it through. I have no view on how widespread such belief was, but in at least some eras it probably resulted in better-than-random outcomes: The innocent were more likely than the guilty to use it, and half the time or so they were therefore acquitted. But its social value probably survived the loss of the associated superstition, and that value was to settle the matter. The ability to reach a conclusion is a key virtue in a legal system; the endless spiral of the blood feud can be replaced with a procedure that people can coordinate around as an end point.
The prohibition on double jeopardy in criminal trials provides a modern kind of closure and conclusion. The important doctrine of res judicata does the same in civil trials, preventing the same dispute from getting refought over and over again by losing parties seeking out new courts. There’s a real value to these rules, and res judicata has been metaphorically extended beyond the courtroom with the increased adoption of the word “relitigate” in political contexts — always as something that one should not do.
The metaphorical extension has something to be said for it. Max Weber cautioned us against treating political disputes — including war — as an excuse to assign guilt or to wallow in old feuds. “Everything else is unworthy and will enact its own retribution… Every new document that comes to light after decades have passed will revive undignified quarrels and stir up all the hatred and anger once more…”
He wrote these words while the Treaty of Versailles was being negotiated, and their warning not to compound the injury of loss with the insult of punishment looks wise in that context. The end of the next World War, though, teaches us that this wisdom has limits, and sometimes guilt is very important to determine indeed. And if this is true for wars — which, like trials, must be allowed to really conclude — it’s that much more true for ordinary political life that just always goes on happening.
The inchoate idea that election results reveal some kind of truth that can’t be revisited finds explicit defense in Rousseau: The losers of a vote learn that they were mistaken even about what they themselves wanted. But it neither began nor ended with him; the saying vox populi, vox Dei is well over a thousand years old. And when we remember that ancient Greek democracies relied on lottery rather than election (which was considered the tool of aristocrats), and that introducing an element of chance has a traditional association with a moment of letting the gods decide for us, we can see something similar to the superstition of the trial by combat at work.
There is an upsurge of interest in selection by lottery in contemporary political theory. I don’t really know what to think about that overall, but the part of it that appeals to me is that we don’t think about random chance the way the ancients did. Maybe we’d have a harder time mistaking the outcome of a coin flip for the vox Dei.
What I hope is that we can instead learn to see elections, referenda, confirmations, and similar moments in politics as just moments: contingent, filled with accident and chance, settling one question for the moment — who will take office? — but not drawing a curtain over the disagreements that preceded it. In a particularly important passage of his essay “Realism and Moralism in Political Theory” the late Bernard Williams wrote:
“A very important reason for thinking in terms of the political is that a political decision — the conclusion of a political deliberation which brings all sorts of considerations, considerations of principle along with others, to one focus of decision — is that such a decision does not in itself announce that the other party was morally wrong or, indeed, wrong at all. What it immediately announces is that they have lost.” This is precisely the victor’s modesty that was absent in, for example, Trump’s remarks on Kavanaugh. The opponents of Kavanaugh’s confirmation have lost. And that’s all that we should say for sure. Does it follow that relitigation can continue forever in politics, that there can be no closure? Not quite. We’re never done arguing about the political past: What caused this era of economic growth or that of slowdown? Was the war entered into too slowly, teaching us the dangers of appeasement, or too rashly, teaching us the dangers of warmongering? What groups have suffered which injustices that call for remedies today? Those questions of historical interpretation are always with us in current politics, and should be.
But in the normal course of healthy politics, criminal charges shouldn’t hang over everyone’s head. The urge to criminalize ordinary political disagreement is another species of the toxic belief that the democratic people naturally forms a united whole, a belief that the Founders struggled with in the era of the Alien and Sedition Acts but gradually overcame with the development of permanent party competition. Such ordinary political disagreement should normally be forward-looking: what each party proposes to do, informed by historical judgments about what programs have worked well in the past.
The problem is that preventing the criminalization of ordinary political disagreement must not be a barrier to the prosecution of actual criminal activity, whether it be sexual assault or tax evasion or perjury or the obstruction of justice. Nor may it interfere with retrospective judgments of misconduct in office of the sort that rightly generate impeachments, such as violations of the emoluments clauses of the Constitution. The idea that ordinary politics does not include the threat of criminal prosecution rests on the background thought that ordinary politicians are not credibly chargeable with criminal activity or abuse of office for such aims as personal enrichment. Matters are necessarily different when when procedural victors may also be, in their personal capacities, guilty of crimes. In such cases the reason for provisional settlement in ordinary political disagreement doesn’t apply (we’re not criminalizing disagreement); neither does the reason for provisional settlement after a trial apply (the question at hand hasn’t ever been squarely addressed by a competent body; it hasn’t been litigated the first time.) The reasons for provisional settlement provided by either trials or ordinary political disagreement don’t apply
Of course, claims that elections or procedures have stood in the place of vox Dei are that much more absurd when elections are won through technically legitimate rules that nonetheless endorse the second-place candidate in terms of vox populi, or when confirmations are provided by senators who represent a much less than a popular majority of the country as a whole. I believe they are absurd in any case — a nomination by a popular-majority president followed by confirmation by a popular-majority Senate still would not stand for vox Dei and would not constitute proof of innocence — but the absurdity is multiplied when what has taken place is really the equivalent of a series of coin tosses.
The boundaries to draw here are matters of judgment, not of bright-line rules. There is a genuine danger of procedural victors engaging in prosecutorial overreach to punish those who have only lost, and to create a veneer of criminal prosecutability to cover for it. But still, procedure is not substance, politics is not law or morality, and victory is not vindication. When the winners treat winning as res judicata, when the powerful proclaim that their gained-by-the-flip-of-a-coin power constitutes judgment from the heavens of their innocence, when they treat their might as making right, then we know we’re being lied to.
——
Jacob T. Levy is Tomlinson Professor of Political Theory and Director of the Yan P. Lin Centre for the Study of Freedom and Global Orders in the Ancient and Modern Worlds at McGill University; author of Rationalism, Pluralism, and Freedom and scholarly articles including, most recently,”Contra Politanism” and “Political Libertarianism;” and a Niskanen Center Senior Fellow and Advisory Board Member.
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from nicholemhearn digest https://niskanencenter.org/blog/winning-isnt-everything/
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