#there’s no way the military isn’t exploiting

[btsbs]

.

[reality-detective]

Diego Garcia: The Hidden Military Fortress with Secrets to Unveil

What’s Diego Garcia?

A 17-square-mile atoll in the Indian Ocean, strategically placed between Africa, Asia, and the Middle East. It's an isolated paradise turned into a heavily fortified U.S. military base, ominously dubbed "Camp Justice."

The Hidden Truth Behind Its Beauty

Once home to 2,000 Chagossians, the island was seized by Britain and leased to the U.S. in 1966. The inhabitants? Forcibly removed, their pets gassed, homes destroyed—all to make way for military domination.

A Black Site Shrouded in Mystery

Diego Garcia is more than just a base; it's suspected to be a CIA "black site," a place where the unthinkable happens—torture, interrogation, and the silencing of secrets. Leaked memos and whistleblowers hint at atrocities, but proof remains elusive.

Alien Technology or Advanced Weaponry?

Rumors swirl that Diego Garcia houses underwater bases linked to alien tech. Satellite monitoring, deep-space tracking, and advanced surveillance systems make this base one of the most secretive on Earth.

A Legacy of Exploitation

The U.S. spent billions on this facility, using it as a launchpad for invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. Yet, the islanders remain exiled, their pleas for justice ignored under the guise of environmental conservation—a thinly veiled excuse to maintain control.

Question Everything

Why remove every trace of human life? Why deny resettlement while militarizing the island to extremes? What’s buried beneath those pristine beaches?

The Elite’s Doomsday Fortress?

Diego Garcia isn’t just a military base; it’s a hub for secret operations and possibly a safe haven for the elite in times of global collapse. As they fortify their control, the rest of us are left to wonder—what are they really preparing for?

The storm is coming, and Diego Garcia might just be its eye. 🤔

[bullet-prooflove]

Dean Winchester. Coat, Cheese, Flowers.

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @private-jett @cosmic-psychickitty

Prequel to:

You, Me & Tennessee - Dean always returns to Tennessee.

On The Mountain - Dean wishes he was back on the Mountain with you.

Six Pack (NSFW) - You realise the man waiting for you isn't Dean Winchester.

Memories (NSFW) - Michael invades your home whilst you're away.

Sweet Dreams - Dean thinks about how this all started.

Deals With the Devil (feat: Michael)- You wake up with an angel in your bed.

Dean doesn’t intend to fall in love in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. It’s something that just happens after he starts hearing rumours about strange attacks up in the National Park.

You know the instant he turns up at the ranger station to investigate the circumstances that he’s a hunter. He has the same demeanour as the first one you met a few years ago, similar features. He’s surprised when you call him out on it, more so when you agree to take him up to the Fire Tower with you.

“There’s more to being a forest ranger up here isn’t there?” He had said, standing in front of the open weapons cabinet surveying the small arsenal. It’s certainly not the usual shit you see out here in the wilderness, silver bullets, long range rifles, military grade explosives. That’s just some of the interesting paraphernalia you have stored away in there.

“There’s lot of power up here on the mountain, it attracts things.” You had told him as you picked out a flare gun and a couple of blocks of C4. “Let’s just say this isn’t my first monster hunt.”

It’s refreshing being open with someone about the work he does. You spend the evening sharing a mini charcuterie board that you manage to pull together with some cheese, jerky and crackers, swapping stories about your exploits. The attraction starts then he thinks, because you’re pretty, funny and a complete badass. The shit you’ve dealt with on this mountain, it almost makes him quake in his boots. He wants to ask you how this all started for you but then you both hear the cries for help and a scratching at the door and it’s hunting time.  

It’s five hours later that you return to the Fire Tower, the both of you a little worse for wear. Your coat is shredded, there’s mud smeared across your cheek, your hair is a mess and the scent of motor oil clings to you from the C4. Dean isn’t in a much better state. He’s bleeding from a gash in his hairline and there’s a three inch slice up his forearm that you’ve managed to patch up with moss and strips from your ruined jacket.

It turns out there wasn’t just one Wendigo, there were two. It had been a fight to the death before you’d managed to trap them in the abandoned mine shaft they’d been using as a nest before activating the C4.

You’re both still hopped up on adrenaline when you get back to the Fire Tower, usually you’d take it out on the punch bag outside out then then Dean kisses you and you spend the next two hours working it out in other ways. You end up watching the sunrise together with a cup of coffee on the balcony, you wearing his t-shirt and nothing else.

He’s regretful when he has to leave. Usually he has no problem hitting and quitting but there’s reluctance in him because the two of you have shared something special up here, something he isn’t ready to let go of just yet.

“Call me alright?” He says as he writes his number on a post it note. “If you get in over your head and I promise you, I’ll come running.”

“I have a whole team of rangers who do the same sort of shit that I do, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You tell him, tucking it into your trouser pocket.

He gets the message loud and clear. You’re strong, independent, you don’t need him, not really and somehow that makes Dean want you even more.

The next time he’s travelling through Tennessee, he ditches Sam and drops by Gatlinburg, just to check in, see how things are going on the mountain. He’s barely half way down Main Street when he catches sight of you stepping out of the florist with a bouquet of sunflowers, cradled in your arm. You’re wearing  jeans that hug your ass in a way that has him groaning and a brown leather jacket over an ACDC t-shirt.

You don’t react when the black Impala pulls up alongside of you, it isn’t until Dean calls your name that you realise someone’s trying to get your attention. You pull out your earbuds before tilting your head towards the wound down window, surprised to see Dean Winchester sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Hey.” Dean says with that handsome smile of his. “Need a ride?”

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[transformersclandestine]

Identity

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

D-16 sat at his usual spot in the Iacon Vaults. The table he was sitting at had become worn out from continued use by its current occupier. The chair that accompanied him was also on its last legs; the hovering technology used to keep it upright was inching closer to the last of its battery. The young miner had strewn an assortment of data tracks on the table and was furiously reading through each and every one. The topic of his research today was the fall of the Covenant of Primus, a legendary unit of Transformers who legends claim were the first to inhabit the planet, seeding life through all its provinces and cities and ushering in the first true pillars of Cybertronian society.

“These ‘bots were the beginning of everything. All that we know came directly from their hands. It’s just…amazing.” D-16 gazed longingly at the data track’s holographic display, showcasing a mural of an epic conflict with twelve warriors engaged in battle with alien forces. One was clad in shining metal armor, wielding a glowing blade of pure light, another in darker armor with a blazing inferno seemingly flowing from his skin. D-16 fixated on this particular ‘bot and stared in awe.

“The Fallen…what did you ever do to be banished from this beautiful world?” he wondered out loud. 

“That, I’m afraid”, said a calm yet jovial voice approaching D-16’s table, “is a question the archives are unable to answer.”

The voice belonged to Orion Pax, D-16’s closest comrade. A data clerk at the Iacon Vaults, Orion was the first individual that D-16 had met at the library of knowledge and after many visits by the curious miner, the two had become fast friends. During D-16’s break periods, he would visit the Vaults and read everything he could about Cybertron’s history. From the great skirmishes in the Age of Expansion to the legendary exploits of the Covenant of Primus, it all was absorbed by the young ‘bot. Orion had taken to jokingly referring to him as “Cybertron’s Biggest History Nerd”, a playful jab that D-16 himself embarrassingly accepted. D-16 appreciated Orion’s company; the archivist was an extremely patient listener and one with similar world beliefs as D-16. Orion was just happy to have another person he could talk to about the things that he was interested in.

D-16 greeted Orion as he sat down in the chair opposite. He too stared at the mirrored image of the mural that D-16 was fixated on. 

“Nobody really knows what happened to the ancient Primes. The records simply say that each went their separate ways after the Primal War. All except The Fallen, whose true name was stricken from history. He was the only member of the group to be forcibly exiled. Whatever he did…it was nasty enough to warrant erasure.”

D-16’s gaze turned from intense adoration to solemn acceptance. He swiped through the data track, replacing the battle mural with an image of a stone carving of a natal chart, each with the symbols of the Covenant on their ends.

“I just don’t understand it. The Fallen, by all current historical accounts, was Cybertron’s greatest military mind. He commanded a legion of troops so disciplined and powerful. They expanded Cybertron beyond the stars. The colonies! Interstellar travel! Space bridges! All stemming from The Fallen’s military prowess. I just…I want to know where it all went wrong.”

Orion looked at his friend solemnly.

“That’s the thing, D. Sometimes history’s greatest achievements are burdened with insidious intent. I trust the judgement of our forefathers. Like you said, look at what they gave us.”

Orion waved a hand to the large glass windows of the Vaults. Outside, Iacon bustled with activity. Flying ‘bots streaked past the panes, lights flickered and Energon flowed through visible pipelines. On the highways in the distance, vehicular ‘bots raced across at blinding speeds. From an outside perspective, it was utopia.

“This peace had to come from somewhere. I’m sure even The Fallen, whoever he was before his banishment, would have agreed to sacrifice whatever it would take to achieve this.”

D-16 had to admit that Orion was right…again. For a librarian, Orion was bridled with undeniable charisma. Any issue that D-16 had, Orion usually had a speech in place ready to right his nerves. In the right system, at the right time, he would’ve made an excellent leader. But they both knew that their place in the world was here at the bottom rung. D-16 a miner and Orion a data clerk. Eventually, Orion broke the small silence.

“Anyway, thought these might cheer you up,” Orion said. Protruding from his clenched fingers were another set of data tracks. He slid them across the table to D-16 who activated them. Inside the tracks were historical records of The Fallen’s mighty armada. Accompanying the text were images of brightly designed flags and propaganda posters featuring mighty soldiers. Things D-16 had never seen before.

“It’s the complete story. At least, all we had. I know they were your special interest, D. I gathered all I could.”

D-16 couldn’t believe his eyes. While some of the text was repeated information from other tracks, the wealth of knowledge Orion had unearthed would keep him occupied for days on end.

“Sweet Kaon, this…this is a goldmine!” D-16 exclaimed. He impatiently swiped through the screen of every track, taking no time to absorb the concrete data, instead simply basking in the gift that Orion had offered him. 

Orion smiled, enamored with his friend’s childlike innocence and excitement. D-16 calmed himself for a moment and smiled back at Orion.

“Thank you, Orion. I don’t know what to say.”

“Think nothing of it, friend. Consider it a thank-you present for your continued support of the archives…and for all the good company too.”

The two shared a fist-bump, then D-16 went back to his research. It was hard for him to pick a spot to begin. Everything he had ever wanted to know about The Fallen’s personal squadron was at his fingertips: the members, their battle records, even the official name of the squadron which he hadn’t come across in his archival binges until now: the Megatron Corps. Reading the name gave D-16 a strange feeling, almost a connection of sorts. 

“Megatron…” D-16 repeated softly to himself, “...Megatron…”

He sat at the table in silent contemplation. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the data tracks and collected them to be returned to their proper place. Something inside of him had suddenly overtaken his joyous reading, replacing it with a bizarre feeling. It felt to D-16 like a call to some previously-unknown responsibility. 

Suddenly, a miniature vibration went off in D-16’s internal systems. It was his alarm. Breaktime was over. As he began to leave the Vaults to return to the Kaon mine, D-16 turned to Orion who was busy returning data tracks to their proper servers. Orion noticed his friend was leaving and gave a wholesome wave.

“Breaktime’s over already, huh? Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll keep those special data tracks on hold for you.”

D-16 smiled at his friend and waved back.

“Thanks, Orion. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

——

The miners of Kaon were having a brutal workday. Due to an Energon malfunction in one of the lower sublevels, production was behind by 33%. The foremen of the mine, furious over the falling output, were working the miners twice as hard as before. More than a few collapsed from exhaustion, to which they were swiftly replaced by willing, yet unskilled, newcomers. This further added to the veteran workers’ frustrations and made the work take twice as much time to cover the newbies’ mistakes.

“Keep at it, scraplets!” yelled Nitro, one of the foremen of the mine. Walking behind the miners, he sealed the ceiling of the cave with his arm-mounted nullification ray to prevent them from collapsing as his workers dug further. His anger with the production setbacks was being taken out on his underlings and he regularly kicked dirt at their backs as they worked. 

“I don’t want a single drop of Energon left untouched in this cavern! You’re behind on your quota and the faster you work, the faster you can all leave!”

D-16 toiled rigorously at a stubborn outcropping, drilling through a thick bed of rock. Suddenly, his drill bit hit a large deposit of obsidian and stalled, spinning out of position and locking up. Frustrated, D-16 slammed his fist on the component to try and start it up again. Nitro noticed the miner’s interruption and zeroed in on D-16.

“D-16, what is the malfunction?!” Nitro screamed. D-16 looked up at the foreman with an exasperated expression. Nitro continued berating the panicking miner.

“Get it working, cog-grinder or you’re going home!”

D-16 struck the bit once more and it whirred to life. Nitro shot the still-nervous miner a nasty look and moved on to other victims. D-16 relaxed a bit and returned to his outcrop, taking care to drill around the obsidian deposit. 

——

Four hours later, the day’s operations came to a close with the beginning of the work curfew. Enacted by Cybertron’s Senate, the work curfew forbade any extra work-related activity after a certain hour, put in place to prevent ‘bots from overextending themselves beyond their capabilities, potentially damaging themselves in the process. To most of the working class, however, it was simply a means to cap the workers’ salaries by reducing hours. 

The Kaon foremen, Nitro among them, lined up the miners for an end-of-the-day speech before they were sent home. Sureshock, another of the foremen, stepped forward. 

“You scraplets did alright today. We’re back at optimal proficiency. But tomorrow starts a new work order, put in place by the energy commission themselves: double the output, double the depth.”

Murmurs echoed throughout the cave as the miners questioned what Sureshock was relaying. One spoke up from the back.

“Are we gonna work past the curfew?”

Sureshock didn’t look towards the inquisitive miner and continued pacing in front of the lineup.

“Same hours.”

Frustrated shouts swiftly replaced the quiet uncertainty. The miners began protesting the absurd requirements. One stepped forward: D-16. He spoke above the crowd, directing all his volume towards the foremen.

“We don’t have the botpower and we especially don’t have the skill with all the newbies you’re throwing in. How on Cybertron are you expecting us to make this new quota?”

The rest of the miners cheered in agreement with D-16. Nitro stepped forward, feeling a sense of obligation as D-16 was part of his sector. He pushed past Sureshock and stood in front of D-16.

“Get back in line, D-16.”

D-16 stood his ground. He dug his heel into the soft sediment of the cave floor. He looked Nitro directly in his single-eye.

“I am D-16 no longer. My name is Megatron.”

The miners behind D-16 quieted down, shocked at their comrade’s sudden insubordination. Nitro chuckled and stepped closer.

“I said,” Nitro’s face moved closer to D-16’s, “Step. Back. D-16.”

Nitro placed a hand on D-16’s chest and shoved him back. Immediately, D-16 retaliated, lunging forward towards Nitro.

“MY NAME…IS MEGATRON!”

The two began brawling in the cave, crashing into pillars of stone and wrestling into equipment. Nitro clearly had the upper hand when it came to strength and size but Megatron pounded at the bigger ‘bot with tenacity and raw fury. Foremen immediately ran into the escalating conflict to separate Nitro from his worker. The miners in turn went towards Megatron and tried to calm him down.

Radioed in by Sureshock in the ensuing chaos, two large security detail ‘bots stormed into the cave and immediately honed in on Megatron. One grabbed the miner’s arms and held them behind his back while the other brandished an energy baton.

Megatron struggled in the grasp of the security enforcer before his vision faded as he was knocked unconscious by the swing of the other’s bat.

——

The piercing buzz of an alarm woke Megatron from his stasis. The door outside his cell unlocked and a red-and-white security ‘bot stepped forward into the room. Holding the door behind him, he was followed by a visitor: Orion Pax. The security ‘bot closed the door behind them, locking it securely, before stepping forward and deactivating the door to Megatron’s cell. 

“Your bail’s been posted, D-16,” the security ‘bot uttered. Megatron looked up at Orion who was shooting the miner a concerned look. Megatron stood up from the cell’s recharge slab and exited, Orion following suit. Once outside, the two began to speak.

“What happened, D?” Orion asked with an immense concern Megatron had never heard before. Megatron shook his head and then chuckled to himself.

“A simple mistake,” he uttered back. “A lapse in judgement. One I don’t plan to make again.”

Orion sighed and placed a concerning hand on Megatron’s shoulder. 

“This ‘simple mistake’ cost you your job, D. You’re lucky I convinced Nitro not to press charges.”

Megatron perked up. It wasn’t his sudden unemployment that caught his attention, but Orion vouching for his character and paying his bail admittedly got to the former miner. 

“Thank you for this, Orion. I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I’m sorry to drag you into this mess.”

Orion stared compassionately as his friend slowly regained his composure back. He knew D-16 wasn’t a criminal, but he worried for him. With a dangerous former career and an uncertain future ahead of him, it was up to Orion to steer him back on a steady path.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you back on your feet soon.”

He smiled and playfully slapped Megatron on the back.

“Now come on, let’s go to Maccadam’s. You can pay me back with a drink, D.”

The two shared a joyous laugh, but Megatron stopped, feeling the need to softly address Orion’s unintentional mistake.

“I actually, uh, changed my name Orion. I’m no longer D-16. I’d like to go by Megatron now.”

Orion stopped and looked at his friend quizzically, before continuing to laugh jollily. 

“Haha, Cybertron’s Biggest History Nerd at it again! Come on then, Megatron. Maccadam’s awaits.”

[absolutehumandisaster]

Random TFC headcanons which accidentally ended up mostly name related (canon typical nonchalance about violence ahead):

cMedic’s name is Jacob

Fred’s full name is Wilfred which he greatly dislikes

Ok I could have sworn this was canon but everyone calls cSpy Ghost. I can’t find it anywhere in the comics but I was so convinced it was real. It might have been a headcanon someone else made but that would’ve had to have been years ago. Anyway, his name is Ghost

Everyone calls cHeavy Boss. As like, a name, the same way the tf2 mercs call each other by their titles. The others probably know his real name, they just don’t use it.

Scout!Greg and Demo!Greg have a name related rivalry. They call each other almost exclusively “other Greg” (s!Greg tried using “lesser Greg” or “inferior Greg” but ultimately decided that “other Greg” was somehow the most disrespectful). At some point someone suggests calling one of them Gregory or using their last names and they both promised to kill anyone who did that. You’d think they’d tire of the same joke after four decades. They don’t.

d!Greg’s name isn’t actually Greg, it’s a nickname born out of an inside joke from when he was younger, but he’s committed to the bit now. His real name is Geoffrey and he’s sworn Ghost to secrecy

Just like the TF2 mercs, they started out referring to each other as their titles, but decided that was weird and started using their real names after less than a year

Y’know that part in the comics where it’s implied s!Greg and Ross are trying to exploit children? Not canon to me. It’s my brainrot and I choose which parts of canon I keep and which parts I change. It’s like a single panel, I’m changing it. Or since he was cut off in the middle of a sentence it’s taken out of context and they actually meant something else. Either way, no <3

Both Gregs, Ross, Jacob and Boss all come from some type of military background. Virgil came from the mafia and Fred from nepotism, while Ghost was an independent assassin and Beatrice was a wanted criminal for just setting a lot of things and people on fire. Girlboss.

Virgil had insomnia before he got his eyes replaced, it just made it go from “frequently but manageably struggles with getting enough sleep” to “I have been awake for 53 hours someone help me”

s!Greg is really flexible and can do backflips and handsprings and shit. He can do a triple fold and did it the first time the whole team met to try to freak them out (which sadly only sort of worked)

Bea never tried to cover up the fact that she’s a woman, she’d just threaten to light anyone who disrespected her on fire. The others quickly learned that she was 100% serious about that

Ross collects umbrellas. He got the first one from the Civilian and thought it would be nice to have a few more. He’s probably the most stoic and brick-wall-personality man you’ll ever meet, but he collects umbrellas. Just because.

[dropoff99]

Moderate Wheel of Time Book Spoilers ahead:

I can’t speak for the WoT community but seeing WoT discourse for over 20 years I’ve seen all kinds of takes on the Seanchan but there seems to be some confusion on their role in the story overall from show audiences so I will simply give my take.

The Seanchan are a civilization that was needed to demonstrate that the forces of the shadow aren’t the only major threat to Randland. There are several examples like this in the story of groups who have degrees of selfishness, cruelty, and prejudice but none as strong as the Seanchan. These include the Whitecloaks, the Red Ajah(Elaida), Shaido, Tairen/Cairhienin Lords, and generally anyone with bigoted ideas or power-hungry agendas who aren’t darkfriends or members of the shadow. The shadow uses these people and groups as useful tools to enact the dark ones bidding.

The Seanchan aren’t inherently “evil” (only the shadow/forsaken/dark one really occupy that role) but of course do lots of evil things and are more or less the worst active group in the story outside of the shadow. They are manipulated by the shadow (forsaken) which the show pretty much tells you but doesn’t go into how far back that goes. But they also don’t need a lot of help when it comes to being awful. The only defense of them you will really find among the fan base are things cited directly from the books or individual characters that were redeemable.

For example, once you swear oaths to Seanchan rule they more or less leave you alone (aside from the channelers obviously). They eliminate crime and corruption (though not from their own ranks as effectively) and arguably treat their citizens more fairly than many kingdoms they conquer. This is all governed by a strict legal code and honor culture followed in their society. Jordan demonstrates the downside of that culture and how it has developed and been exploited to thwart and enslave Aes Sedai and channelers.

The Seanchan are a major example (along with the Aiel) of how morality and ethics change among cultures after long periods of isolation. They have been across the Aryth Ocean for 1,000 years and their knowledge of their own history isn’t much more than legend. The people they are invading know their pre-history better than they do (particularly that of their founder Artur Hawkwing).

But ultimately they are pretty horrible. They will annihilate anything that opposes them. What they do to channelers and those who show the slightest disobedience is indefensible. They are more or less a demonstration of how “evil” a society can become when you marry ignorance/bigotry with enormous military power.

This is all just to say that if you see a book reader defending the Seanchan in any way, it likely is related to how effective they were at fulfilling a certain role in the series, not due to some sort of agreement with their world view. But even that is kind of rare because they just simply aren’t that popular and only have a couple characters that are really relevant in the long run despite having a constant presence. They are baddies who aren’t the shadow but are still awful/scary.

[blueikeproductions]

So prior to the release tomorrow, a sneak peak of “S3” spotlighting Prowl who instantly chummy with the other Autobots, but instantly cruel to Megatron who looks hurt and embarrassed.

It’s both caused those who’ve seen it to be excited as “Racist IDW Prowl” returning, and harkens to many older cartoons like Teen Titans having the stock “racism episode”.

“It’s worse than we thought, Poindexter, we’re stuck in a cartoon with morals.”

-rubs temples-

Ok. So once again EarthSpark’s writers seem to misunderstand racism allegories. Or perhaps Transformers as a whole does.

It’s complicated.

So stuff in the 80’s cartoon would imply the Decepticons are a separate species in their own right, sort of like classic D&D when monsters like orcs were the defacto evil species.

The cartoon would further reveal the Decepticons being their own race was true, as they descended from “military hardware” built by the Quintessons. It’s a bit muddled how much the Decepticons contributed to the great revolt that saw the Quints chased off Cybertron, as the cartoon chooses to explore it in the POV of the Autobots’ ancestors.

The Marvel comics would flirt with this a bit, with the Furman penned Gene Key arc of the ReGen One continuation revealing the Autobots and Decepticons do possess genetic differences that Scorponok wishes to exploit.

So the racism allegory should fit in ES, right?

Well no.

Outside of the Beast era, which also implies the Maximals, Predacons, and (in a roundabout way) the Vehicons are all distinct species and TFA implying a similar concept, this idea of the Transformers’ factions also functioning as different biologically distinct species tends to be ignored most of the time. (…Except for the Mini-Cons and Terrans…)

Veteran fans in particular have expressed annoyance at this species concept, preferring the Autobots and Decepticons to instead be more politically driven.

And so that’s been the defining characteristic largely going forward, that the Autobots and Decepticons are more like aggressive political parties that can’t agree on anything, but still leaning towards the older concepts of the Autobots wanting peaceful protest and change, while the Decepticons want to blow it all up, the devil with anything in their way.

IDW2 in particular saw the Decepticons start off as a political movement called the “Ascenticons” who wanted to rise up from Nominus Prime’s Energon rationing that was put into place after the devastating War of the Threefold Spark that saw the kibosh put on the Spacebridge program. Megatron didn’t very much care for that, despite being a young soldier in that war, and wanted the Transformers to escape those shackles and run colonization unchecked throughout the galaxy, as it was their right.

The terrorist group, Rise, were also managed by Megatron in secret, trying to nudge things in his favor, with the Ascenticons and Rise formally coming together as the Decepticons to stage a coup d'état.

EarthSpark makes it clear the Transformers weren’t created by the Quints, so they’re not Goods or Hardware here. It’s not particularly clear if there even IS a generic difference here. It feels like the intention in ES was the more modern political-ideological differences, but then S2 implies there might be a racial difference with the “Cons will be Cons”. So not even the show can make up its mind on what exactly the Autobots and Decepticons are in-universe.

Prowl’s dismissal of Megatron kind of reminds me of Rattrap & Dinobot’s exchange of barbs in Beast Wars, and in a way, that should be more what this relationship is like for Prowl and Megs.

The difference so far is Megs seems more legitimately hurt by it, and isn’t fighting back verbally like Dinobot would. And after TFONE, it’s rather foreign that Megs would take Prowl’s skrud like that.

Depending on where this goes, it feels like the writers are trying to channel the alien that called Starfire a “trog” or Malfoy calling Hermione a “mud blood”, but it kinda comes off instead as Prowl going “Ew what’s that Republican jerk doing here?” Prowl is honestly justified at being disgusted at Megatron even being here, as let’s remember, Megatron still started the war that decimated Cybertron. It doesn’t really matter he suddenly feels bad about it, that’s countless lives lost on Cybertron alone because of his actions. So the Autobots and Maltos being so chummy with Gruncle Megatron is still kinda unnerving. Again it’s like they want him to be Vegeta, but without Vegeta’s abrasive Saiyan Pride dictating things.

The problem remains that EarthSpark’s staff are largely Decepticon sympathizers, and similar to IDW, the problem is magnified more by the Autobots rightfully annoyed at Megatron getting away… So much so that Getaway’s own coup in getting rid of Megatron and his sympathizers was technically justified…

Until Roberts realized Getaway was correct, that didn’t fly with the trajectory, and had to instead write him as a psychopath with delusions of being a Prime, among other things…

-sighs-

T’be honest this is one of those times I wish Roberts got his way early on and we got Blitzwing and Powerglide as the couple and Quickswitch in Megatron’s role because this would’ve saved us so many headaches in the long run.

[angstics]

I feel like it’s important to make intentional decisions and do whatever you believe is right when it comes to art.

I really care about artists that are just loud and brash and bring whatever you believe in to question.

I feel like Bowie and Iggy did that for a lot of people. I’d say even Smiths did that.

I don’t think this is entirely political though. It could be spiritual. I just feel like Gerard is really quiet about what he believes in until most people start talking about it. Or maybe he wasn’t informed at all. He caters to a very specific audience and doesn’t actually try to break any sort of taboos or extend the boundaries in art. Most of what he does is just ok to do.

I’d love to hear why you think this doesn’t matter. As I said, I think this kinda art really matters. I don’t care much that Gerard isn’t that kinda artist but I feel like a lot of times he wants it to seem that way. I feel like he has a lot more potential if he didn’t tip toe around these things.

(Also I know lady Gaga hasn’t done anything controversial recently but hey at least she did it for a WHILE.)

Id love to continue this convo if anyone wants to.

I personally get the sense that gerard doesn’t have a strong stance about Anything, at least according to the lack of strong direction in any of his art. He doesnt make a stance as much as he just lives what he believes in — women as people, queerness as interesting, even institutions (military, industry) as exploitative. Especially the last point he neverrr talks about, but it’s an undeniable part of black parade and killjoys et al. But i never got that as a political statement or call to action or anything like that. Just an opinion he has that is a normal part of his life and informs his art.

It isnt like any of the influences u mention, since they have such a strong vision. Sometimes political like the Watchmen comic, sometimes apolitical like Bowie, but nevertheless mainstream revolutions in art. I know what you mean. But i dont think gerard (and others) withholds as much as he . Just doesnt have anything to say.

An example. Fans point to ProRev stage gay as a strong stance against homophobia. And the band members frame it this way sometimes. Some other times, however, they say it was a “heat of the moment”, adrenaline thing. Which I believe wayyyy more. impulsivity over intention. Doesnt mean they didnt mean it, but their lack of intent points to a lack of overall intent. Bowie did something similar, but in a different way that was & still is crazy.

The thing is, you can see the lack of strength in the lack of real influence my chem has had on music, at least so far. The only big artist i can think they’ve influenced is Billie Eilish, and in a way that’s more stylistic than musical. Even small artists are often extremely derivative rather than inspired. Pinkshift & glass beach are the only bands I can think of who were properly inspired by mychem. They were the last hurrah of popular rock, rather than a reshift or revitalization. Time will only tell whether anyone picks up the mantle 🤷🤷 Bowie influenced mcr 30 years later — Nirvana & Thursday 5. Who’s inspired by mcr?

I’m a very formalist person, I think, meaning I care about qualities more than the message, and gerard (and all of mcr) are just fantastic artists Intuitively. It feels good to listen to them. That is their strength. And that is very hard to recreate.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 14: Preparation

“OK, Meghan, but I need to inform you that I am required by law to report if I suspect that you have plans to harm yourself or others, and that includes Mr. Säure. Even though he is a dragon, like you, he is still a citizen of the United States and currently legally recognized as a fellow human being.”

That last phrase just feels so wrong.

I did not miss a third therapy session. I’m there. I think I’ve made an error.

“Not harm,” I say. “Stop.”

“What do you mean by ‘stop’?”

“Intervene,” I carefully type out. “Convince to cease terror.”

“Shouldn’t you leave that up to the authorities?” she asks.

“Out of their league,” I say. “Either they let continue. Or they attack with military. Bad either way.”

“That’s like what happens in movies, though, isn’t it?” my counselor asks. “Don’t you think we’re all more sophisticated than that? Don’t you think there are experts who can work diplomatically with someone like Säure?”

I snort. It’s basically a sneeze. A sneeze of derision.

“No? You don’t think so? You know something they don’t?” she asks.

“Am dragon,” I say, and just stare at her.

“Then why did you ask me for my advice on the matter?” she asks.

“How,” I type into my tablet, looking up at her occasionally to indicate I’m taking my time and want her to pay attention, “do we fight fear? You are a therapist. Maybe you have idea about humans I do not.”

—

I’m starting to formulate a plan. But I’m not writing much of it down, just some of the process of putting it together, because I don’t want to tip Säure off to just what I’m doing. You’ll have to excuse me for this, it’s important.

Hang tight. I think this is going to work.

Why try to take Säure down?

That’s a good question. Mostly, for my part, because he’s targeted me specifically. He tried to eat me. But also, because he’s terrorizing my city.

And we’re dragons having a territorial dispute. It’s inevitable.

He’s a competing predator trying to push me away from my food source, but also away from my family and my own hoard.

But also he’s a rampaging billionaire. I keep harping on that without demonstrating just how dangerous that is. He hasn’t really done anything yet besides fly around and scream at the sky and boil the bay, basically threatening everyone. Except, as a billionaire, he is a representative and enforcer of the very system that failed to accommodate my own disabilities and that put me into government funded low income housing while on SSI, and that made and kept Joel homeless before his dracomorphosis, and that had the police illegally working with his own company to kidnap people and relocate them into the wilderness because we had the fortune of becoming full blown dragons. And sure, he disavowed that last thing, but he was complicit in the habits and systems that made it possible in the first place. It was his company. Like, these are just tiny examples in a massive system of the exploitation and destruction of the populace.

I feel like I should just point outside and let the entire world be my example. You can surely see what’s going on out there. And if you can’t see that, then you might not be my audience anyway.

But, in this case, it is actually personal.

And it’s not like I’m trying to hurt or kill him, anyway, just change his perspective and behavior.

I’m going to communicate with him. As legally as I can, because I myself personally don’t want to deal with the consequences of misstepping. I’d like to keep living on the roof of my building and to continue dating Rhoda and Chapman.

And, like, that’s hard. Everything is set up so that the average person can’t do this sort of thing without getting dinged for it. Or without just being ineffectual. What incentive does he ever have to change his behavior in the first place? What leverage does anyone have to give him an incentive?

But, despite all of my instincts or C-PTSD or whatever it is that’s causing me to ideate the act of tearing him apart and spending the rest of the decade swallowing the bits and chunks, as if I can even do that, I do think I have an idea of how to do this in just this particular case.

Every dragon of his kind has a weakness.

And also, as a dragon, I have resources the average person does not.

—

The sound of three seagulls crying as they fly low overhead makes it hard for anyone to talk. It’s kind of amazing how loud they can be sometimes.

Caleb squints his eyes as if that helps keep the noise out of his head. Then he glances at Astraia and says, “We’ve got lines of communication to most of the dragons in the county, now. Each community has their own mirror of your Discord server. Well, not mirror as in a digital copy of it, but an imitation, their own thing. Believe it or not, you weren’t even the first to do it. The city of Jam had a PHPBBS going by the end of that first weekend, of all things.” He sighs, “Anyway, yeah, I think we can do this. But we’re not going to get 100% cooperation.”

“Don’t need all,” I say, knuckling my tablet to do it. “Just most.”

“Yeah, it’s still going to be tough going,” he replies. “This isn’t instant communication. Honestly, a lot of the dragons are being represented by their human friends and family. And while not everyone is always on their devices, there’s a lot of relaying going on, too. The more time we have, the easier it will be to set it all up and get everyone coordinated. Or, most of them coordinated. But, day of, we can’t rely on it.”

“Need humans, too. As many as can,” I say.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s take time,” I tell him. “Day of, Sunday?”

“Might work. Good choice for other reasons, I think,” Caleb nods.

I turn to Astraia, “You lay low. Keep healing. Coordinate.”

“It’s what I’ve been doing,” she responds, doing her eight headed trick with a newer, larger looking tablet. “We’ve had to crowd fund a garage for me, and that dovetails with the other outreach we’ve been doing. I’m good.”

“Thank you.”

“People do like to support their neighborhood dragons,” she says. “We’ve really got that going for us.”

“Banking on it,” I say. Then I work to spell it out, and everyone waits patiently while I type it “When I led roll call on Murder Thursday, the fact it worked tells us what we need to know.”

Joel yawps cheerfully.

We are on his territory, in his park, behind the defunct acid tanks. We’re here so that he stays up to date on the plan, too.

“I have something for you,” I tell him. “It might suck.”

He tilts his head.

With some effort, I pull out the pendant that Chapman made for me, and lay it on the ground next to my tablet, then I say, “Put this on, human. Take off, dragon. Magic. Chapman made. But, make you girl. No talk, only type.”

He sneeze-snorts and looks away.

Yeah, OK. Honestly didn’t think so.

—

As I’ve said before, I’ve had a little training with Wentin since it helped me to see my true nature as a dragon, and to access what I guess could be called dragon magic. Our natural abilities to engage with reality in a way that other life cannot typically do. But I haven’t had much.

And though I still won’t say all that I’ve learned, I will admit I don’t feel like it was enough, despite how little I trust the monster.

Our dream hunt through the woods of the nightmares of my youth, the one that turned into a game of me chasing it, felt like it changed something between us. And I feel like I could seriously use some extra help in what I’m trying to do.

So, I try to set up a meeting with it in its arboretum, despite all my misgivings.

I do this by sending it a direct message on Discord, and then moving on and dealing with other preparation work.

“I agree to train with you at your next earliest convenience,” I send it.

Eventually, I do get a message back from it.

“I’m sorry, My Dear Queen, but I am currently indisposed with other work. When I am done, I will let you know when I am free, and I would love to assist you in your studies at that time. I do not know when this will be.”

For how relieved I am, I’m also sharply disappointed.

But it did respond to me, it is marked as online, so I dare to ask it something that’s been bothering me. If it answers, it might still be a help.

“Did you have life as human before?” I send to it.

“Oh, dear no, My Queen. Not at all,” it says.

I’d asked the question because everything I’ve been learning about it had led me to have a doubt about its origin. To question whether it underwent dracomorphosis the way the rest of us did. But to have it confirm that doubt feels unexpected anyway. And it leaves me with a question about the most frivolous thing.

I wonder so many other things, like what its nature was before dracomorphosis. And whether it had been some other kind of creature, or whether it had always just been a nightmare monster. How is it now capable of manifesting physically?

There’s a lot to wonder about, but instead I focus on this one silly thing.

“Why are you called Wentin?” I ask.

“Oh, I love this story,” It sends. “Long ago, a child I used to hunt chose a novel way of dealing with me. And one night, she turned to face me and told me to stop. And, of course, since I no longer had consent to hunt her, I had to cease. Confused and at a loss as to what to do, I asked her what she wanted from me. And she in turn asked me if I would be her friend. For the life of me I don’t know why, but I agreed. And when she learned that I didn’t have a name, she gave me the name Wentin. She has now died long ago. But I have kept the name ever since in her memory.”

And then its status turns to red, indicating that it has logged off.

In case it will answer another frivolous question when it logs back on, I ask it, “Do you use a computer or other device to access Discord?”

I do feel a little strange trying to have such a mundane conversation with the monster of my childhood nightmares. But I get to, it seems, so I’ll keep pushing it.

I tuck my tablet away and get back to business, part of my mind chewing on its answer.

There are so many clues to other questions it just gave me, as well as a lot more questions.

—

Somewhere in there, I have a genuine date with Chapman.

We do spend some time talking business and preparation, during which I learn that sie can’t prepare much for me to use on such short notice. But that sie thinks my plan has some merit, and won’t dissuade me from trying it.

And then we spend the rest of the evening just getting to know each other better over some unexpectedly good food and live music on a Thursday night. The nice thing about using the table to communicate with each other is that we don’t have to hear what the other is saying.

I also start making longer term plans with hir. Things to do as the world maybe, hopefully settles down from the dracomorphosis. Though we both acknowledge that might not happen for a while. I want to genuinely pursue a remedy for people like Kimberly, who may feel left behind by the latest wonders of the world, who are beings of other sorts stuck in otherwise human form. And maybe if we track down and find the Artist of Transformation, or whatever they actually call themself, we might be able to do that. Chapman agrees to give this an honest shot.

Perhaps we can help transgender humans on the way, if sudden transformation and other spectacular expressions of Art are here to stay.

Or, at least, maybe we can bring a few people some joy while the world seems to continue to vibrate itself apart, as it is apparently doing.

I suppose you might conclude I’ve thoughtlessly thrown my lot in with what Säure calls the Architects, without suspicion or question.

Maybe I have.

But, mostly, I’m following Chapman, because sie has given me reason to trust hir. And I like hir. A lot.

I might be a little dazzled or smitten or something, but I guess I’ll eventually learn.

In the meantime, I’m swallowing bits of marinated lamb wrapped in herby and fragrant other foods, something I don’t think I’d have ever tried before, while enjoying a live band that’s developed a strange and dark fusion of traditional Greek music and bluegrass, with lyrics about the Odyssey.

It’s a very Fairport moment.

—

On Friday, there isn’t much prep left to do, besides wait for the threads that I’ve started to continue weaving themselves together and the net to spread. Fortunately, today’s the day I’ve put aside to tend to Rhoda.

We’ve been back to our nightly tea. And I’ve been spending the night in her apartment, curled up by her front door, ever since that first night she drew her line, made her rule, and offered me shelter. We’ve effectively been living together.

But I need to talk to her about this.

Normally, after a day out and about, I arrive on her doorstep in my faerie trans princess gown and tiara, and relax back into dracoform once inside her door. I’ve been doing this because it’s just easier to get to her apartment that way.

This time I’m much earlier and I relax before I knock. This is our agreed upon signal for this.

Of course, she peers through her peephole before she opens the door, so she already knows.

She opens the door and just says, “I’ll start the tea.”

Her acknowledgement. By being business-like, instead of welcoming me home, she’s telling me she’s prepared to rescind her rule about the apartment for the night.

I see a haunted and exhausted look in her eye, though, and I dread what this conversation will entail.

But she lets me make my way into the apartment, and once she closes the door behind me, she’s smiling and coming to cup my jaw and give me a kiss on my snout. And then she says, “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Rhoda,” I say. The one full phrase I can smoothly use my syrinx for.

She’s still moving more slowly and thoughtfully than usual when she goes into the kitchen to get the kettle and fill it with water. The tea set itself is already arranged on her coffee table, complete with my customary bowl. The water she’s about to heat is actually for my bowl, her tea is now steeping.

“You seem to have had a busy week!” she calls from the kitchen.

“Yes,” I say.

She comes back and sits down and then plugs the kettle in and sets it on the table.

“Let’s go ahead and talk about that, then,” she says. “Whatever we need to air out is fine. Catch me up.”

I have my explanation as a set of sentences in my tablet that I play one at a time, pausing in between to let Rhoda react or to ask any questions. She just prompts me to continue, so I do. But by the time I’m done explaining my whole plan to her, my bowl is full of tea and I can taste it fully by licking the air.

I then turn the conversation over to her by playing my final precomposed sentences, “I imagine all sorts of ways that this could cause worry and be difficult to bear. We can try something different.”

She considers that for a while, finger touching her lip to keep it from quivering, and then she blinks a couple times and shakes her head, “No. This is good, Meghan. I won’t say I’m happy about your role in this, but I am proud of you for coming up with the whole idea. I can’t think of anything else to try that would be any safer. And somebody has to do something.”

I don’t bother telling her that she’s someone who can do something. We’ve already covered that. She doesn’t want that power or what using it for that level of influence will do to her. She doesn’t want the responsibility or the weight of it, nevermind that the proclamation she’s already made is clearly having a profound and powerful effect. My goal here is to take some of that weight off her shoulders.

I bow my head and stay quiet a little longer to see if she has more to say. She does.

“You have to come home after this, Meghan. I’ve been working on a project that’s important to me, and I think you’re the only one who can edit it properly. I need your insight. Your experiences. I need you to help me make sense of some things I don’t think I can fully understand, and I don’t really know anybody else who is qualified. Except maybe Chapman, but I’d rather it be you.” She lowers her head at me and says, “So, after you do this on Sunday, you come home. Please.”

I know what she means. I know how important it is to her. I hope I can deliver.

[cienie-isengardu]

I like to imagine most Outworlders don't speak English if we were being realistic with workdbuilding. The royal family and their advisors would probably interact with Earthrealm officials during visits but regular Outwrolders probably wouldn't.

The only reason they speak English is for our convenience but realistically most probably shouldn't and it'd be funny if the language barrier popped up at times.

Like I imagine Quan Chi didn't speak English initially so he didn't register Titan Shang was talking to him when he was doing his job in the mines. Like Titan Shang thinks Quan Chi is ignoring him...when in reality Quan Chi simply doesn't register he's talking to him at all.

That is exactly my thought - worldbuilding wise, common Outworlders shouldn’t speak English or any other Earthrealm’s dialects, as they do not have a constant contact with totally foreign cultures from Liu Kang’s realm. I don’t think we ever heard of any vital trade between Earthrealm and Outworld and the portal between realms isn’t that easily accessible for people to just snuck in, and it is not just about Outworlders being wary of Earthrealmers but also Liu Kang decided to keep existence of other realms in secret from majority of his people. So the contact is limited and let’s not forget that the same as Earthrealm, Outworld is not culturally homogeneous realm either, as there is many different cultures coexisting there, like Edenians, Shokan, Centaurians, Saurian, Osh-Tekk to name few. So learning additional Earthrealm's dialects may be more difficult to some of those people than to others.

It makes sense for the Royal Family, their palace guard (Umgadi), advisors and for some military officers like General Shao and Reiko to learn English and possibly other earthrealm dialects, as such knowledge is vital to diplomacy and state security. 

It is understandable that the games use English as common language for simplicity, however 

It really is sad how the cultural/language barriers are not exploited as it has such a great potential (the closest things are: Johnny’s references to Alien that Kung Lao misunderstand as Cage calling Tanya a slur and was both offended and confused by the whole thing and Mileena thinking that drone is some kind of magic)

I don’t like the implication in Liu Kang’s timeline that Great Britain again influenced the whole world to the point English is the commonly used language because with that implication comes the question: did some Earthrealmers again suffer under the regime of other countries, be it under colonization or losing their country's independence. I mean, it is Liu Kang’s timeline, why Royal Family don’t speak in his native language as they had the longest contact with the Fire Lord and English is not, logically thinking, Raiden’s native language either?

Let’s just agree I’m very picky about this issue and I would love all the shenanigans coming from characters speaking in different languages and sometimes failing - or on purpose making it difficult to communicate well. Or, as the Lin Kuei faction has the number of native-speakers from different cultures (China, Czech, Botswana), they could utilize other languages as their “secret dialect”. Like Lin Kuei brothers waiting for Liu Kang, instead of speaking English between themselves, they could talk in Tomas’ native language because the chance Kung Lao, Raiden or Liu Kang’s servants would understand Czech is slimmer than them understanding English. 

I’m seriously crying over the untapped language potential Mortal Kombat has for years. 

As for Titan Shang Tsung, I’m gonna trust he was smarter than using English, when Quan Chi was born in mines and spent his whole life there. The mortal Shang Tsung consuming souls for ages most likely knew and could fluently use a vast number of dialects, so I imagine Titan Shang Tsung would figure out pretty quickly that no one in mines used earthrealm language and talked to Quan Chi in a way he could perfectly understand him, especially since “Damashi” needed Quan Chi’s trust to process the great plan of his.

[a-snails-pace-1917]

Criticism of Israel is,of course,not synonymous with antisemitism. This is known by anyone who isn’t obtuse or uninformed. This has to be said to not give even a rhetoric inch to Zionism.

However,I do find a trend in online anti-Zionism (mostly on TikTok,I’m new to tumblr lmao) quite concerning. Many people seem to lack a good systemic/non-individually focused understanding of the world,and in this particular case imperialism. They see conspiracies of greedy individuals and politicians where for example a Marxist should see systems of power and exploitation that are in a way reified by individuals but not actually under the full conscious control of them.

This conspiratorial understanding leads to this notion of the pro-Israel lobby and “Zionists” as controlling the U.S. government. They see instances of pro-military industrial complex and pro-Zionism groups beating progressives in elections or getting what they want and from that figure that Israel,a regional holding of U.S. imperialism used as a wedge in the Middle East so that America can exert regional power/let the Israeli’s do some of the work for them.

In short,a worrying trend I see among some anti-Zionism comes from their lack of systemic thinking and is the equivalent of seeing a man walking his dog and thinking that the dog is somehow in control of the man on account of it walking in front of him.

[loominggaia]

Do any of the great kingdoms have rich people taxes? Actually bothering to tax their rich instead of giving them exemptions after exemptions? (Can already tell that Zareen isn’t on the list given their… everything)

I think all Great Kingdoms extract as much money from as many people as possible, including the rich. But of course rich people have more resources to weasel their way out of paying them when they can.

The middle classes tend to get screwed the hardest because they have enough money to take, but not enough to throw bribes around or means to hide money in foreign territories.

Poor classes don't have much money to take, so governments exploit them in other ways, like slavery, imprisonment, military fodder, etc.

One way or another, they will turn people into profits.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[zbeez-outlet]

The Emerald Bishop Masterlist (Coming Soon)

Levi Ackerman x FemReader | AOT Canon Universe | Slow Burn Relationship

Concept || Two faces, two names, two identities, and neither of them are the real you — they’re both far more important than the real you. The real you has slipped between the cracks, and it isn’t until a certain Captain comes looking for her that you realize how valuable she truly is.

Summary || The public adores the romanticism of a vigilante. A kink in the corruption of the capital, missing prisoners, thinly veiled anonymous threats, and a calling card embroidered with an emerald wax seal. Haunting, dramatic, and imprinted with the shape of a bishop. In a world that operates like a chess board, the name “The Emerald Bishop” is whispered reverently, worshipped in the shadows by those who need him and ghostly praised by the curious and the bored. Children giggle, playing vigilante in the streets, and women swoon over the masked anonymous hero every time his exploits appear in the paper. Some admire him as much as they hate him. Everyone wants to know who he is, but they’re looking in all the wrong places.

There isn’t much to know about you, Levi thinks in passing. Unassuming and small amid the other soldiers. Until you save his life from a Titan and then suddenly he’s uncharacteristically curious. He starts with your file, as disappointing as it turns out to be. A mediocre cadet in the training corps, far from the top ten in a way that directly contradicts the skills he knows you to have. And then the rumors among the soldiers. Born into the wealth of Stohess, raised on the edge of a silver spoon, no one expected much from you. Beautiful gowns and sparkling smiles and empty thoughts. Certainly no one anticipated your radical choice to join the military, rumors sticking to the heel of your every footstep. Nothing matches, nothing sticks. All Levi sees is your quiet disposition, almost shy, and your exemplary talent that leaves him equally impressed and suspicious. Not to mention you’re rather prone to wondering off.

Maybe making you the newest member of his squad will answer some of his questions. And it has nothing to do with the feeling in his chest every time he looks at you a second too long.

A/N: This is a new series idea that I had, loosely inspired by the novel “The Scarlet Pimpernel” by Baroness Emma Orczy and the Hunger Games fan fiction “The Sterling Nightingale” by CrashingPetals (found on AO3). I hope you like my take on this story! It’ll be a couple weeks before I post it, but I wanted to know who might be interested and if anyone would like to be tagged. Leave a comment or go to the taglist link on my Navigation post!

Warnings || angst, canon typical violence, slow burn relationship, eventual smut, more specific warnings to come

Part One || Coming Soon…

[knarme-stray]

Avatar characters and their Issues TM

Neytiri - Can’t feel at peace bcs things beloved and important to her have been destroyed beyond regognition in front of her, a part of her lives forever in those places that no longer exist. What patched her up and kept her going was making her enemies bleed. She had no choice but to let that pain transform her so she could keep fighting. There are things and people she can’t look at without feeling pain or reliving those events, no matter how innocent. She doesn’t have it in her to call Quaritch’s child hers, - for obvious reasons. Not after everything that happened.

Jake - He never feels like his life or body truly belong to himself bcs of that military hierarchy subjucation he’s adapted into and been injured by. Even when he thought his life is finally in his own hands, Quaritch came and took it from him all over again. He had to leave his home, - again, - and be at mercy of someone else. He is scared of displeasing authority, his courage crumbles when he thinks his kids are getting his family in trouble, even if Tonowari isn’t actually going to demand unfair things of him. He’s just never had someone with power over his life NOT hurt him with that.

Tsu’tey - I always saw Tsu’tey as quite an introverted type who’ll get really attached to few people he knows well. He and Neytiri shared their grief for Sylwanin being taken from them. Sylwanin seems to be someone he sees the most comfort in, as seen in the comics. It’s really rough for him to let anyone else love him, or open up to anyone else after Sylwanin. Also, his parents are kinda difficult people, he probably didn’t have the most encouraging environment to be vulnerable.

Miles - He’s full of contradictions. There’s an open-armed sweetness about him towards new people who join his ranks. He wants to take care of them. He’s happy if they survive their service, get paid and return to Earth. He’s intimately aware of how his choices affect who lives and who dies. His hell-bentness to fight Jake in the end was because of the stakes, - he didn’t want the losses on his side to be in vain. Miles doesn’t exist in isolation,  - he is just one fang in the mouth apparatus of a devouring empire. It’s the exploitative dominance hierarchy of that empire that has impaired his ability to experience genuine community and belonging with others. He can only keep people near him... As his captives or subordinates. He only knows how to take because that’s the way of the empire. And, that’s what makes him an empty and miserable husk of a man. He wants to love, but only does that in ways that harm/control others and push them away. He’ll be rejected by people who are real to him, who see him for who he is, - because “who he is” isn’t deserving of their wamth of connection.

As a recom he becomes someone who probably isn’t even legally a person to RDA, - his new life is just a suicide mission to kill Jake Sully. Everything about his existence is humiliating and pathethic, and he knows it. The lies of the hierarchy he has served in his past life, are crumbling, - the honor is gone, and only agonizing shame will be revealed. He’s also essentially company property at this point. He discovers, too late, that he wants to love, - that he has family, a child he wants to be a father to.

[burinazar]

...

this is the last time i'll talk about the kpop mia thing i promise. i pinky promise. just have to get this off my chest. (post contains mentions of Unpleasant fanservice elements with underage characters in other shows, not terribly detailed but they are described.)

Imagine if every time someone said they liked Gainax’s beloved mecha classic Gunbuster everyone who heard them assumed it was specifically because of that one locker room scene that is in there more prominently than the scenes of nudity in MiA and feature more visible, more detailed, and more prolonged underage nudity and quite unambiguously exists for the sake of titillation alone

imagine if mentioning you were a Fate fan caused everyone to think you were watching it for the little girls making out in Prisma Ilya or the microbikini-clad underage version of Jack the Ripper in FGO. or saying you liked Gurren Lagann immediately caused people to come running with that one interview where a staff writer randomly said Yoko is 14 while most of the merchandise featuring her is heavily focused on sexualization and fanservice, retroactively rendering the show's many many fanservice scenes with her highly questionable for reasons lying totally outside its established canon

or to take a break from objectionable sexualization even though that's the internet's favorite subject: what if every LOGH fan was assumed to share Tanaka's potential tendency of according validity of Great Man Theory or take an uncritical view of the authoritative military autocracies like the one Reinhard establishes amid a mostly positive framing in the story. there are definitely fans that do this by the way but good lord i can't imagine someone assuming the entire fandom does instead of being prone to creating many healthily-critical diatribes questioning the above, even alongside our great love of the characters of the story and the overall work

like nobody assumes these things because it’s widely agreed there’s lots of other good shit in there for all of those shows, and many fans enjoy them without liking and thumbs-upping everything in it. so can you give us Giant Hole Show Liker People that bare minimum of consideration. huh.

like. man. i’m not out here standing by everything in MiA as something I am pleased is in it — like, fucking duh i’m not, since everyone who’s heard me rant about how the otherwise consistent and fantastically delineated theme of “condemning and inspecting a world that exploits innocents for its advancement and those who partake in this” is veritably kneecapped by some of s1’s dumbass lolisho fanservice moments (that Tsukushi just haaaad to throw in, where trauma and humiliation is thrown into casual everyday life montages and brushed off as funny-sexy), knows perfectly well how i feel about them.

but I’m so so tired of people not affording the fans any consideration that we might like The Fucking Rest Of It when there’s way more mainstream things with worse-or-as-bad elements of underage fanservice whose fandom isn’t assumed to be there primarily for the worst bits of fan service.

like can you just accord people the grace of potentially being human beings with complex opinions and well developed reasoning skills and nuanced opinions

[pectinpeeress]

Aarghhhh.... kind of a rant below, sorry about that, somethings just been bugging me...

I’ve been kind of annoyed with a lot of the Opinions I’ve seen on Kimblee as a character, especially in terms of his relationship with Riza. Because I feel like people keep trying to justify his character morally in order to justify liking him. And, first of all, a character doesn’t need to be a good person for you to like them; and secondly, it makes the characters way less interesting?!?

Like, If you look at Kimblees narrative purpose as a character, he isn’t supposed to represent a real person. Just like how the Greek gods are more similar to the element they’re meant to represent than an actual person, Kimblee is the idea of narcissism come manifest. I get that writing is subjective, but Arakawa has literally said that she based Kimblee off of Alex from A Clockwork Orange – a character whose so insufferably self-centered, he makes you wonder if he even deserves to act for himself-- so I feel like it’s fair to say that regardless of what anyone claims, the intention is for him to be an irredeemable person.

I think that what confuses a lot of people is that he has an understandable set of motivations, and people don’t understand the difference between an understandable villain and a sympathetic villain. Kimblee is not a sympathetic villain, he’s given no backstory, no noble goals, or sympathetic motivation. But he is an understandable villain. We understand his thought process, but that doesn’t mean that we can view him as a good person. Honestly, his motivation has always reminded me of alt-right accelerationism, he recognizes that the things he’s doing are bad, but he just doesn’t care.

This is why it bugs me when people claim that he and Riza had a connection, or that Riza sympathized with him. Because it ignores the narrative purpose of his character. He’s the manifestation of the hypocrisy of Amestris. The government claims violence is a necessary evil, but the system is built to reward sadism. It’s sort of like how our society claims to reward kindness, and yet the most powerful people are billionaires who exploit their workers. So when he tells Riza to look in the eyes of the people she kills, it’s impactful because she hates him. It’s her becoming disillusioned with the lies and propaganda of the military. They claim to be protecting the people of Amestris but in reality, they’re just a weapon for the government to use as it sees fit. Riza doesn’t sympathize with Kimblee, she loses her patriotism, and that is the point.

To be clear, I don’t care which characters you like, or what you ship, or whatever, but when you claim that Riza and Kimblee got along, you’re actively making her character less compelling. The narrative goes from “soldier becomes disillusioned with the military” to “woman is tempted by the ~dark side~” which like, that’s fine, there’s nothing inherently wrong with simplifying a character. My issue comes from the fact that people act like they’re improving her character or making her more interesting, and they’re not. She goes from a really interesting look into the purpose of the military and the motivations of the soldiers within it, to a poorly written YA protagonist. And for what?  A love-triangle? The aesthetic?

It just irritates me because there’s this undertone to it like they’re saving Riza from being overly dependent on a man by latching her to another man. Like, the whole point of Riza’s character is that despite being dehumanized her entire life, she is still a human with free will and agency, and their attempt to fix what they perceive as the faults of Riza’s character is to turn her into a tool used by a different man? Like, can’t she just be evil on her own? Why is she only allowed to do immoral things through the proxy of a man? It comes off as way more dehumanizing than any of the tropes they’re trying to fix, while also ignoring that she’s an intentional subversion of those tropes.

IDK, just to clarify, I really do not care about your personal taste or whatever content you make. It’s stupid to act like the mere act of liking a fictional character is indicative of a person’s actual ethics, and it’s even stupider to think that fandom discourse will have any sort of positive impact on their moral compass. What mostly bugs me is when people act like they're smarter than everyone else for liking something when it’s like??? Dude just like what you like you don’t need to lie about the narrative to justify it.