#the militia

[scaryscarecrows]

Found in ACE Chemicals. I'm not sure who drew this: the squadron leader giving instructions, or Jason, in a fit of 'oh my fucking God it's not complicated LOOK'. Either way, here it is.

[vizrecon]

[traveling-spartan]

This is what I mean by "guy-time."

I had a good weekend.

[djevilninja]

As nights turn to days, days go back to nights, we be speaking it right, And keeping it tight up in the street life. I meet life, head on, no holds barred; Born with a heart of gold, now mostly cold and scarred. En guard, choose your weapon, or get to steppin'; Lyrical bullets make you dance from the trance you be kept in. Assessments are made before, and during combat, I master my hunger, blow the spot when I bomb cats.

Gang Starr feat Big Shugg & Freddie Foxxx - The Militia

[thedigitalcrates]

Cory Gunz Drops The Militia Mixtape

  Multi-platinum selling recording artist Cory Gunz releases The Militia mixtape featuring fellow Militia members Black Saun, Whispers, RMK, Mulaarie and more. The Militia tape contains nine new songs with production from Black Saun and Qui3t with a feature from Ms. Hustle. Cory and The Militia members come through with bars showcasing their lyrical wordplay over a combination of gritty sounds…

[psychotrenny]

People on here seem to like communist women with guns, so here's some pictures of female Mozambique FRELIMO fighters taken during their war of liberation against Fascist Portugal and its NATO backers

Guerillas with captured G3 rifles

Female guerillas carrying supplies alongside their male comrades

Guerilla posed in firing position

Militant posing with rifle

[sang-i-fetge]

Something that really amuses me is that who want GoodDad!Bruce reconciling with jason really just want arkham batman.

Who, upon discovering the identity of the guy that orchestrated a violent takeover of (a mostly empty) Gotham, goes "Jason...🥺 I thought u were dead...🥺 we can fix this...together...🥺"

[elcuervoborracho]

A commission for the unwavering Panda, of Miss Militia! You know, she's probably one of the two or so BB Protectorate heroes I really like, I think it's because of the 90's antihero vibe. Gun is a great superpower too.

[ceevee5]

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[lemedstudent2021]

as seen on reddit

3 years later and (un)surprisingly accurate.

[scaryscarecrows]

One minute they’re moving, the next they’ve been set upon by ninjas.

That’s the only way Curt Evans can think of to describe the sudden assault; armed men, terrifyingly agile, falling on them before anybody had any idea they were even there.

It’s over embarrassingly quickly.

No one’s dead, though they’re all bruised. Jesus Christ. He’s on his knees, badly winded and yeah, that’s a cracked rib, and all he can think right now is, what just happened? A quick glance around at his squadmates says they’re thinking the same thing.

The ninjas are wearing black and red, with stark white full-face masks and blood-red goggles. Several of them have swords–swords, what the fuck?--but all of them have guns. One of them, smaller than the others, steps forward. They tilt their head, goggles boring into Evans’ eyes, before their hand snaps out and tears his dog tags from his neck.

“Hey-!”

“Shut up,” somebody else–a man’s voice–snaps. “We didn’t ask you to talk.” Then, “We takin’ ‘em back to base, sir?”

The man holding his dog tags doesn’t answer. He just looks at Evans (or, well, that’s what it looks like he’s doing) for a long moment before his arm flies out, swinging the dog tags like a flail. They hit him in teeth (that’s a chip, ow) before the man flips over him (what the fuck?) and–hurk!

Air-air-air-air–

His vision’s just starting to go when the chain loosens from around his neck. He’s still gasping when a boot between his shoulder blades puts him flat on his face and then he’s kicked over, onto his back. A boot’s planted on his chest and a massive sniper rifle that looks leagues beyond anything he’s ever worked with levels itself at his face.

The expected death doesn’t come. After two minutes of staring into those red goggles, his assailant scoffs and steps off him, snaps his fingers and jerks his head. The man from before nods.

“Yessir. Get up, assholes, we’re goin’ for a ride.”

* * *

The ride is twenty minutes. It’s a quiet twenty minutes, but it ends when they pull up to a massive military compound. High walls ringed with razor wire, security guards, and cameras. Big gates that look like something out of Jurassic Park. And an entire army’s worth of men inside, from the looks of it; trucks, tanks, the whole thing.

What the hell?

The little man from before hops out before the car comes to a stop. Striding across the compound is a giant that looks like he could snap Godzilla in half. He stops, though, when the littler guy whistles, puts his index fingers against the side of his head, and salutes*.

“Think he and Antoine had a TC,” the giant says. “They should be done soon. Why?”

A thumb jerks back towards the jeep.

“Shiiit,” the giant says appreciatively. “He’s not gonna like that.”

Who’s not gonna like that?

The small man laughs. Not totally mute, then, and clearly not deaf. Impediment? Just an asshole?

“I don’t think it was supposed to take–there he is.”

Oh.

Oh, good God.

Evans’ first, crazy thought, is that Gotham’s Bat has gone off the rails and set this up. Then the…thing…gets closer and he can see that it’s not quite the same. No cape, for one. And the full-faced helmet. It looks more like a cyborg than anything, but it’s coming this way.

“Riley brought ya a present,” the giant calls. The cyborg stops, looks at the blond man trotting behind it, and shrugs.

“Something tells me it’s not Reese’s.”

The voice is heavily filtered, sounding more demonic than human. The smaller man–Riley (huh, he knew a Riley once)--nods and erupts in a flurry of gesticulations. The cyborg tilts its head, sun reflecting off that blue visor, and remains quiet until Riley stops moving.

“Good call,” it says, and then it’s stalking towards them. Up close, it’s big. Well-armed. The insignia on the armor is unfamiliar and the armor itself is hard and sharp, almost medieval. “Well, gentlemen. What brings you out this far?”

Nobody answers. Then, quick as a snake, the cyborg lunges and pulls Evans away from the rest of his squadmates.

“Curt Evans,” the demonic voice growls. “You’re in charge of…well, that’s interesting. Operation Pleasure Time? Thought that was a soda.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says immediately. “Who the hell are you?”

The cyborg chuckles.

“The Arkham Knight.” What the hell? Some freak escaped from Gotham? Evans has never set foot there, but one of his old squadmates had been a local. That guy was fucked up. “Don’t play coy with me–well, well, this is interesting.”

It plucks the small body camera from his vest and kicks Evans’ legs out from under him, lets him fall to the dirt in a heap.

“Drouot.”

“Yessir.”

“Tell Rogers to get into their camera frequency and run a cover-up.” It–he?--pauses. “Not that ridiculous jungle monster cryptid, something practical. Crocodiles.”

“Aw, you’re gonna break his heart, boss,” the blond says. The Arkham Knight scoffs.

“He’ll live.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be annoying about it.” 

The Knight tosses the camera over and the blond disappears. Evans swallows.

“That’s recording already,” he says, willing his voice to be steady. “It doesn’t matter what you do now, it’s been viewed.”

“Nah.” The Knight sounds incredibly entertained. “We have a scrambler. All that’s been viewed is static.”

“We’re not telling you shit.”

“I really don’t care what you’re doing out here. I just care that you keep your mouths shut, and you know what they say about dead men.”

“What the fuck–”

“Get rid of them.”

“What, you won’t even do the job yourself?” Rodreguez shouts. “Fuckin’--”

BLAM!

“There. I killed one of you.” The Knight reholsters his gun. “Happy? Now. Get rid of them. Unless…” He turns to look at Riley, who shakes his head. “Never mind. Just get rid of them. I want to see your squadron in two hours; see what you’ve learned, huh?”

*Riley actually has two ways to refer to Jason: one is the shorthand symbol for crazy (index finger spiraled near your head) followed by ASL for knight. Crazy Knight=Arkham Knight. The other is this one–Evans may not know the Family Politics here, but Riley respects, and thus salutes, very few people. So this is the more affectionate one he uses to Jason or with the Squad.

[theconservativecowgirl]

The feminine urge to take my AR and just shoot down those stupid drones. If you dont have an answer as to where they're from or what they are, TAKE THEM DOWN!

[bagelboihijinks]

I like to imagine Armsmaster after a 35 hour tinker bender walking around the rig excitedly looking for little situations to use his new hyper specific tinker tech like:

Miss Militia: *in the break room about to put some bread in the toaster*

Armsmaster: *takes slice of bread, clasps it in both hands for 3 seconds, hands it back perfectly toasted and somehow buttered*

And everyone just goes on as normal because he’s been doing this for over a decade. Sometimes Assault will try to manufacture little situations himself just to see if Armsy has a solution for it.

Assault: Darn, i dropped these very important documents into this incredibly thin slot between the industrial printer and the wall.

MildInconvenienceMaster: *holds out tool tailor made to get small or thin things out of similarly small or thin crevices. Assault will go on to use this whenever his phone slides between his bed and wall at home.*

Everyone sort of silently encourages it because theres been a few times over the years where his Perfect-Slice-of-Toast-In-Under-Three-Seconds Gauntlets have come in clutch and genuinely saved hundreds of lives.

It’s Colin’s awkward way of being helpful and somewhat social. Dragon thinks it’s adorable.

[cpericardium]

Taylor lowkey had a parasocial relationship with Miss Militia in canon and all the fic writers fell for it. She was like ooh I'll write my vulnerable letter to Miss Militia and burn it 🥺 I'll let myself be taken in by the PRT if you make Miss Militia the leader of the protectorate 🥺 Miss Militia you're my favourite 🥺 Girl you don't even know her... you don't know the things she's done

And in fics she just lives up to all those standards and is basically the mommy of the team

[eff-plays]

The fact that Infinity Nikki, a free gacha game about clothes, has a better storyline with more nuanced characters and writing than Veilguard, a "serious" RPG ...

Also it has a way better soundtrack too. And half the characters they want you to take seriously look like this

That's a father and his son btw ^^^