destroy the left

anonymous asked:

Slav for the character headcanon thingy?

Lmao omg umm

What they smell like: probably wet fur

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): curled up like a cat

What music they enjoy: depends on what universe he’s connecting to

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: none, he’s flawless

Their favorite thing to collect: he touches nothing in fear of accidentally destroying the universe

Left or right-handed: he can use the top hands but not so much the bottom

Religion (if any): none

Favorite sport: none

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): he wouldn’t step out of the ship, honestly

Favorite kind of weather: whatever guarantees the non destruction of the world

A weird/obscure fear they have: everything?

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: the basketball hoops

To all y'all liberal kids that are getting icky feelings about punching Nazis and other forms of violent protest:

Voldemort was taken down by a left wing anti-fascist group of radicals that used militant violence against the government.

Darth Vader was taken down by a left wing anti-fascist group of radicals that used militant violence against the government.

Jeanine Matthews and the Eurydice faction were taken down by a left wing anti-fascist group of radicals that used militant violence against the government.

President Snow and the government of Panem were taken down by a left wing anti-fascist group of radicals that used militant violence against the government.

The Homeworld Gems were stopped from destroying Earth by a left wing anti-fascist group of radicals that used militant violence against the government.

I mean damn. One Piece, Bleach, Ghost in the Shell, we can stretch it and say The Silmarillion, Eragon, The Chronicles of Narnia, Animorphs, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Voltron, I could probably name more if I had time, all this has in common is that the bad dudes with power WILL NOT GIVE THEIR POWER UP. EVER. It had to be TAKEN from them.

If y'all can understand this and relate to fictional characters, why can’t you do this to your fellow humans in real life?? Y'all are supporting the Death Eaters, the Empire, the bad guys you say you hate. Get your priorities in order. Get over that “Non-violence” bullshit.

I never saw Princess Leia shake hands with the Sith.

It took an explosion and 13 pounds of iron to usher in the modern era of neuroscience.

In 1848, a 25-year-old railroad worker named Phineas Gage was blowing up rocks to clear the way for a new rail line in Cavendish, Vt. He would drill a hole, place an explosive charge, then pack in sand using a 13-pound metal bar known as a tamping iron.

But in this instance, the metal bar created a spark that touched off the charge. That, in turn, “drove this tamping iron up and out of the hole, through his left cheek, behind his eye socket, and out of the top of his head,” says Jack Van Horn, an associate professor of neurology at the Keck School of Medicine at the University of Southern California.

Gage didn’t die. But the tamping iron destroyed much of his brain’s left frontal lobe, and Gage’s once even-tempered personality changed dramatically.

“He is fitful, irreverent, indulging at times in the grossest profanity, which was not previously his custom,” wrote John Martyn Harlow, the physician who treated Gage after the accident.

This sudden personality transformation is why Gage shows up in so many medical textbooks, says Malcolm Macmillan, an honorary professor at the Melbourne School of Psychological Sciences and the author of An Odd Kind of Fame: Stories of Phineas Gage.

“He was the first case where you could say fairly definitely that injury to the brain produced some kind of change in personality,” Macmillan says.

Why Brain Scientists Are Still Obsessed With The Curious Case Of Phineas Gage

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

And the Heavens Wept

Gather around my children and you shall hear of the most terrible, most implacable, most improbable friends ever met by our people. They came from the third planet of a tiny system, surrounded by desolate space. Not one sentient species for hundreds of lightyears, and they managed to propel themselves into space.

We watched from afar as they developed slowly. We watched as they warred among themselves, brutal and savage. We watched as they rendered regions of their planet uninhabitable to themselves, a hardy species able to adapt to even the most hostile of environments. We watched as suddenly and without warning they united under four banners, the rest falling by the wayside. We watched as they expanded into what we had begun to use as a buffer zone, to allow these humans to burn themselves out in.

But they did not burn themselves out. Despite their warring among themselves. Harsh people. Humankind is a race of warriors, do not be fooled by the eloquence of their diplomats. In their own words, “All diplomacy is a continuation of war by other means”. Their greatest artists and philosophers were born from blood and conflict. I had the privilege once to view a painting by one Pablo Picasso, entitled Guernica. It was a savage piece, with not a drop of color. It showed the horrors of war, and the irony of it all was that the painting hung in the office of one of humankind’s generals.

It was sudden, when they burst from the containment zone. When they realized they were not alone. And we, with heavy hearts, prepared to fight them bitterly and to the last. Imagine then, our surprise when humanity embraced us among the stars as long lost brothers. They were overjoyed to discover they were not alone in the darkness. Despite their brutal and warlike culture, despite their glorification of death and violence, their people do not seek out combat. An ancient general of theirs once put it thusly “Although a soldier by profession, I have never felt any sort of fondness for war, and I have never advocated it, except as a means of peace”.

For centuries humanity worked to better itself. They unified under a single Interstellar Empire, the Empire of Man, the Human Empire, however you called it. They enjoyed art and music. They became leisurely at home, exploratory in the field. Their weapons of war were long gone, beaten into plowshares as they say. Humanity was finally at peace. There was no conflict among them, a few border skirmishes for certain, and they kept a small standing military, but nothing more than that. We considered them domesticated.

At first we were surprised at their transformation, then overjoyed. We welcomed them into the fold of the cosmos, embraced them as they would embrace us. We thought we knew humanity then, that we had seen them at their best and their worst. We were wrong, so very wrong. We did not truly understand humanity until the Texar-Hakara came into the void between the stars.

Seemingly more brutal, more bloodthirsty than even the humans, they swept into our region of space like conquerors. They smashed whatever feeble resistance the Yungling managed to put up, took their planets, enslaved the survivors, and pressed on. The Junti were next, utterly destroyed. The four great races left, ourselves, the Itaxa, the Kukrama, and the Illnaa, banded together to try and stop them. In our arrogance, we did not include the humans in our pact. Too few in number, too weak in frame, too backwards in technology we thought.

The Texar-Hakara hit our borders like the great wave that sweeps life from the beach. We hardened our hearts and prepared for the worst. Seeming without pause they crushed our border defenses. They obliterated the first fleets we sent to them. The Itaxa fell to the Texar-Hakara, enslaved, killed, scattered to the corners of the galaxy. Then the humans sent us an offer, a request really. They asked to fight alongside us.

Bemused, we accepted. What else could we do? Deny them the right to fight with us for their very survival? We thought to assign them as rearguards, to ferry our people to safety after our fleets fell. We thought wrong.

Humanity swept into the stars with a fury unmatched by any other. Their fleets were not the heaviest. Their guns not the most accurate. Their soldiers however. Their sailors. Their warriors were unmatched by any others in the cosmos. I remember the first battle in which the humans fought the Texar-Hakara like it was but a single solar cycle ago. Our forces were on the brink of breaking and fleeing. Our ships were gutted ruins. Our fighters exhausted and out of missiles. Then humanity fell upon the flank of the enemy, and the full force of the Human Empire was unleashed in a single moment of utter fury. Landing craft spat across the distance in an instant, slamming into enemy hulls and disgorging humanity’s greatest weapon, their Marines. In close combat humanity is unstoppable, and so they took the vast distances of space combat out of the equation.

Their ships belched fire and plasma. Lasers crossed the vast distances in the blink of an eye. Half the Texar-Hakaran fleet was obliterated in minutes. The other half turned to face this new enemy, only to be wracked by internal explosions as the Marines did their work. Their greatest ships turned on the rest of the fleet, a handful of humans holding the bridge against waves of enemy attackers to turn the tide of battle.

The Interstellar War came to a screeching turnaround. The advance of the Texar-Hakara halted, like it had hit an immovable wall. In many ways that is what humanity is, an immovable, implacable wall. Then, with the ferocity humanity is alone capable of, they routed the Texar-Hakara. Not from that lone battle. They pushed them out of Itaxa space, liberating the slaves. The space of the Junti and the Yungling was swept clear of invaders. Then the Texar-Hakara committed the gravest of sins in humanity’s eyes. They warped a fleet to Earth, jewel of humanity’s empire. They burned that blue and green world. They destroyed it, and the trillion people it housed.

Humanity is a forgiving race my children. Even their most terrible of wars have resulted in lasting friendships between nations. When they left millions dead and broken on the muddly fields of their world, they rebuilt the aggressors. They raised them from the mud, dusted them off, and welcomed them back into the fold. But there is one thing that humanity cannot, will not, tolerate. It is abhorrent to them my children. To strike at their home, to strike where they raise their young ones. Where they leave their mates and non combatants. To strike there is to raise the ire of the human race, truly.

Humanity raged. Their attempts at obtaining the surrender of the Texar-Hakara halted. The war turned from a righteous war of liberation to a furious and hateful war of retribution. We begged the humans to stop, to leave what few planets the Texar-Hakara had alone. Our pleas went unanswered for months, until a single human ambassador came to us. His face was cold and emotionless. He told us, in no uncertain terms, that the Texar-Hakara had doomed themselves and that any trying to aid them would suffer the same fate. Quietly we watched then, as humanity wiped the Texar-Hakara from the stars. The Texar-Hakara pleaded for mercy. They offered their unconditional surrender. They came to us and begged on bent knee for us to reign in the mad dogs we had unwittingly unleashed into the universe. Humanity had for so long repressed their warrior culture. Tried to become better. Then we had given them back into the fires of war, and humanity had awakened it’s warrior past.

The Texar-Hakara ambassadors were taken from our halls by grim human Marines and thrust out airlocks. Finally there was but one planet left, and we came to the humans, we pointed to our own losses, our own dead friends some of whom had lived for longer than humanity had been among the stars, and we begged the humans not to take the last of the Texar-Hakara’s lives.

I watched, children, I watched as the Texar-Hakara’s world burned. As humanity left but one of their planets alive, a simple backwater colony of no more than ten million. Ten million, out of the trillions. Then the leader of the human military turned to me, and with no emotion in his voice, told me that humanity accepted the unconditional surrender of the Texar-Hakara, and walked off the bridge of my ship.

My children, the lesson here is that a warrior past is never truly gone. Only buried, mayhaps even wiped from living memory. But gone? Never. Humanity showed us that.

9

“Gee, Mister. You must know Wedge Antilles really well. What’s your name?” “Luke Skywalker, at your service!” — Star Wars: X-Wing Rogue Squadron Special

Chapter 93 Thoughts

This chapter scores the winning combo of being info heavy but not slow. Saying that there are a lot of points to mull over is an understatement. Long post incoming.

Main plot things:

  • Everyone in the world considers the titan powers to no longer be absolute. 
  • Zeke is definitely up to something that does NOT have Marley’s best interest in mind.
  • Armin & Eren have (supposedly) been destroying and/or confiscating Marleyan ships over the course of 3 years. 
  • Ackermans are titan-related science experiments gone horribly right.
  • Ymir’s fate confirmed.
  • There’s a 9th shifter out there yet to be introduced.
  • Memory inheritance is iffy and not exclusive to the coordinate.
  • Reiner’s suffering goes above and beyond near death experiences.
  • Falco isn’t disillusioned by life as a shifter, but is now a contender for inheriting the Armored Titan…as a way to protect Gabi. 

If the first two chapters of this volume served to lay the groundwork, then this chapter is the one that really starts creating something. Whatever this is shaping up to be, I know one thing for certain. 

I am hyped

Keep reading

you ruined me. you took every bone from my body and broke it. you ripped every organ out of my chest and butchered them. you breathed in every essence of my soul and never returned any of it. so, yes, I became lost without you. I didn’t know how to breathe or walk -let alone get out of bed- I didn’t even know who I was; but that’s only because you took all my pieces, made me a gigantic puzzle, scrambled all the pieces and never put them back together.
—  you left me with nothing
More Than Just A Cartoon

It’s easy for those who have never watch Avatar: The Last Airbender to pass off the show as just another product of Nickelodeon, but those who have sat down and given the show a chance quickly learn that this series stood far apart from anything Nickelodeon had produced before.

So what made Avatar so different? For starters, it was a linear story with a clear start and beginning. Viewers follow Aang, Katara and Sokka as they embark on a journey to defeat the Firelord. The story grows in complexity with each episode and little details easily brushed off at first often become crucial parts of the series (remember the cameo of Azula sitting next to Uncle Iroh at Zuko’s Agni Kai against his father?). This cartoon has such a deep plot that producers felt it necessary to include a “Previously on Avatar” segment before many of the show’ episodes. No other children’s cartoon- to my knowledge- has had a plot so detailed that a recap was deemed necessary. The very story of Avatar is so complex and beautifully woven that it needs this, and the size of this grand endeavor does not go unnoticed.

Another thing that makes Avatar so much different than an ordinary cartoon is the motives behind the “bad guys”. It’s a classic cartoon motif for the bullies to be secretly insecure and emotionally damaged themselves. There is often an episode that depicts the struggles of the main bully and why they may not be as bad as we think. This is NOT the case in Avatar. The two big baddies of the series- Azula and her father Fire Lord Ozai- are genuinely evil. They show no remorse for their actions. In Azula’s case, she has many clear characteristics of a sociopath. Even when she begins to lose her sanity, she does not see the errors of her ways or beg for forgiveness. Yes, we learn that she is emotionally wounded by her mother’s rejection of her, yet we never see her use this as an excuse. She simply shrugs this off and claims that her mother was right. She owns her evil and wears it with pride. At the final Agni Kai, she genuinely wants to take down Zuko because of the joy it will bring her. She has no remorse or emotional attachment to anything anymore, other than the pride behind her own abilities.

Her father, Firelord Ozai, is even worse. While we get to see brief moments of Azula’s humanity, Ozai never suffers a breakdown like Azula. With the fury of a real-life dictator, he confidently prepares to destroy the world to create a society fit to worship him and him alone. Even after losing to Aang, he is filled with nothing but anger at losing his bending. He isn’t even sorry that he was defeated. Fire Lord Ozai is filled with evil, and Nickelodeon allows creators DiMartino and Konietzko to create characters without any “dumbing down” for children. Ozai and Azula are genuine evil.

With the inclusion of genuine evil comes the presentation of complex and emotionally grappling themes. One of these themes presented early in the series is the theme of genocide- or the destruction of a race of people. Avatar boldly dedicates an entire episode to the discovery of the skeletal graveyard of Aang’s people. This is the first time in the series where it becomes clear that the series will address topics much more series and real-world than penguin sledding. Watching Aang realize that his people were destroyed then left to rot brings the true humanity into the series. This only continues as we see themes of child abuse, internal conflict, parental disagreements and many more.

Avatar may be a cartoon, but it is a cartoon that stands far above the rest of American productions. The series is deep and insightful, with a complexity of characters and true evil and pain.  

7

sooo thanks to reading heartstrings by @taylordraws i was up til 3am doodling this garbage. god help my lost soul.

also i’d been talking to @littleblackchat all day about it and she was designing up what she imagined Mari’s dress from chapter 3 looked like, and I doodled this version based on her descriptions and early doodles of it xD so it’s a little different from the one she posted. Also I pointed out that the keyhole in the dress was perfect for Adrien in that scene, since he put his hand there and gyid7573943778hsjdfj IMAGINE IT GUYS imagine it

not to be a hipster but homestuck was better when there wasnt any welovefine and hot topic and kickstarter. when it was just a man and his computer, and a couple great collaborators, and your ass was keeping a sharp eye on the minuscule god tier hoodie restocks to snag one before they inevitably sold out again. I miss homestuck before hussie took year long breaks and i miss topatoco and i miss the homestuck store and i hate sifting through 8 miles of fanart disproportionately slapped on t-shirts for actual merch that doesnt bring me the same sense of excitement that it used to. it only brings resentment that if i buy something welovefine is going to enter me in a giveaway for squiggle lines drawn by hussie. which is not that funny? that would have probably made me laugh in 2012. but the thing is that you can shit on your fandom all you want when you’re providing good quality content. youre an aloof, eccentric creator. but when we’re all waiting on a game we backed years ago and was promised years ago and was promised for REALSIES months ago, when you’ve cut off all interaction on twitter, destroyed your own forums, and left the one tech guy in charge of repairing the forum to be the SOLE SPOKESPERSON for the state of your company, im not??? going to laugh when you’re like “hey guys enter a contest to win squiggly lines drawn by me!!” 

especially when the incentive to obtain more entries for that “””GRAND PRIZE””” is to buy things from welovefine, to link as many social media accounts as you can, to beg your friends to do the same, to make daily homestuck posts on instagram and then let their system confirm it like a goddamn receipt so it can spit out more entries for your stupid squiggle lines. is it so much work to offer a genuine commission? it’s all so cynical and commercialized which is??? honestly kinda shitty considering how much homestuck riffs on that culture??? 

and at the end of it all homestuck social media (what’s left of it anyway lol) has the nerve to constantly be like “we’re all still stuck here forever guys, right guys? right? right? ….right?” while we all kind of stare at them like a dad trying to use a meme, a meme he fucking CREATED and somehow destroyed. 

Homestuck is truly the ultimate tragedy, the epitome of a great rise and a greater fall, but I’m still waiting on my catharsis and my copy of fucking Hiveswap.

anyway

its 3 am

Don’t Let Me Get In The Way (Steve Rogers x reader)

Requests:  

1. BONNIE YAY!!!!! REQUEST TIME!!!! pls write about Steve starting to blow you off (missed events and important dates) because of Bucky & the events of civil war. My heart loves angst but please end happy if at all possible.  

2. Hi, can you please write a little fluffy fic where Steve asks the reader to marry him?

Whenever anyone would ask how it came to be that you were dating Captain America, you would tell them that you fell into his arms like it was a dream, and right when their eyes would gloss over in imagination of the romance in that statement, you’d crush it with a snicker at their gullibility.  It was definitely like a dream, alright; but more like a nightmare, being chased across your apartment by some disgusting alien as it shot at you, pushing you towards the window of your tenth floor home until you crawled out onto the ledge and prepared for your own end at the mercy of Park Avenue’s asphalt.  As if it were planned, or at least by miraculous intervention, Steve was fighting his own group of alien assailants, hearing you from above just in time to turn and catch you as you jumped.  

You literally fell into his life, and he loved telling the story as much as you hated to remember it.

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Phineas Gage, American railroad construction foreman remembered for his improbable survival of an accident in which a large iron rod was driven completely through his head, destroying much of his brain’s left frontal lobe, and for that injury’s reported effects on his personality and behavior over the remaining twelve years of his life—​​effects sufficiently profound (for a time at least) that friends saw him as “no longer Gage.”

3

March 9th 1945: Bombing of Tokyo begins

On this day in 1945, the bombing of Tokyo by the United States Air Forces began. There had been raids by B-29 bombers since November 1944, but this was one of the most destructive in history. The raid on the night of March 9th saw 334 B-29s take off in Operation Meetinghouse, with 279 of them dropping around 1,700 tons of bombs. 16 square miles of the Japanese capital were destroyed, around a million were left homeless and around 100,000 people died as a result of the firestorm. Tokyo saw many raids such as this, with over 50% of Tokyo being destroyed by the end of the Second World War. However the firebombing on the night of March 9/10th was the single deadliest air raid of the war; the immediate deaths were higher than seen at Dresden, Hiroshima or Nagasaki as single events.

“Killing Japanese didn’t bother me very much at that time… I suppose if I had lost the war, I would have been tried as a war criminal…. Every soldier thinks something of the moral aspects of what he is doing. But all war is immoral and if you let that bother you, you’re not a good soldier.“
- Curtis LeMay, the American general behind the firebombing campaign