it's formidable

between the devil & the deep blue sea (m)

cr. 

Words: 28,455. (rip)

Genre: Pirate Jimin au + smut, fluff, angst.

Paring: Jimin x Reader.

Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him, of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men, the devil incarnate.”

Fantasy Collab

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imagine how much better the Thor movies would’ve been if Frigga were actually written in a realistic way rather than a ‘women don’t talk when the menfolk are talking’ way

I mean she’s a powerful magic user and more importantly she’s a MOM. Thor and Loki wouldn’t have gotten away with SHIT. The entire goddamn plot never would’ve happened, no wonder they dumbed her down.

Frigga would’ve busted in like “NO THOR, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO JOTUNHEIMR, YOU’RE GOING TO YOUR ROOM. YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR A WEEK. SIF, HOGUN, FANDRALL, VOLSTAGG, YOU’RE ALL GROUNDED FOR A WEEK. I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE ADULTS, I AM YOUR QUEEN AND YOU ARE ALL GROUNDED.”

and then she’d whip it around on Loki like “DON’T YOU LAUGH. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. YOU WANT YOUR FATHER TO HEAR HOW FROST GIANTS GOT INTO ASGARD? THEN YOU’D BETTER GET YOUR BUTT IN YOUR ROOM TOO, YOUNG MAN. THAT’S WHERE YOU’RE GOING TO BE FOR THE NEXT CENTURY.”

anonymous asked:

Can you imagine a Sterek plot where Post S5, Stiles' fear of not being in touch with everyone comes true so he leaves Beacon Hills and somehow randomly STILL ends up finding Derek in Spain or some other European country (and then Isaac and Jackson randomly appear for shits and giggles).

Anon I want fics of this. I want so much post s5 or alt!s.5 Sterek, them reuniting, them keeping in touch the whole time Derek’s gone, them being apart and knowing that something’s missing but being oblivious idiots who don’t realize they’re desperate to just hear each others’ voices again…

My favorite headcanon (which you’ve probably all heard to death already) is that Derek is in Europe right now, establishing a new pack with Isaac, Jackson, and Cora. And while I like to think Stiles and Derek are still in touch while Stiles goes into senior year (and that Stiles would seek him out after graduation) I would love a fic where Stiles doesn’t know where Derek is at all and just runs into him in Europe after the McCall pack drifts apart.

Because Stiles had tried to keep them all together, alright? Had planned on the pack going to San Francisco together after graduation, on moving into the next great phase of his life with his little found family all around him. But piece by piece it had started breaking apart, the pack members getting accepted into separate schools, scholarships not coming through in some places, program offers they couldn’t refuse in others… and before Stiles knew it they were all going in different directions, and Stiles was left standing in their dust.

So he defers for a year (it’s not like he didn’t have plenty of his own offers, but he’d put all his focus into the pack and without it he’s really not sure what direction he wants to head in) and decides he might as well be a complete cliche and go backpacking while he figures things out.

He makes his way through France and his mind touches on Isaac more than once, but then what would he even say if he got in contact with the guy? “Hey, we never really got along all that well and the last time we hung out my demonic alter ego had just killed your girlfriend and you fled town over it, but you want to grab a drink or something?”

He doesn’t contact Isaac.

The thing is, though, he starts hearing rumors halfway through Germany, just little things here and there when he touches base with whatever supernatural community happens to be in a given area. (Apparently his “spark” gives off a certain aura that many of the more old-world practitioners can feel just by being close to him – he’s encountered more than one baffled wizard who just can’t believe he’s never had proper training with a spark this strong.)

The rumors vary from place to place, but they all have to do with a wolf pack, new (or very old?) and formidable for its size. Apparently they’re notable because their alpha isn’t even really an alpha – which makes Stiles smile, think of Scott back at the beginning – because they appeared seemingly out of nowhere in a place where ancient bloodlines are everything. Because (from what the obviously exaggerated rumors are saying) the area around London had been practically a Hellmouth of dark supernatural energy for years, that no sensible practitioner had dared live there for generations before the new pack arrived to take control of the land.

(He spits his drink out, laughing, at the thought of Jackson creating a Hellmouth-battling superpack, Accidentally offends the group of gnomes he’d been sharing a drink with, and forgets the rumors when his attention turns to getting out of there fast and alive.)

He’s traveling north through Wales when he first hears the name Hale. It stops him cold, leaves him shivery with a feeling he’s spent too long swallowing down to really recognize.

The new pack claimed the old Hale land.

He doesn’t let himself think too much about it. The Hale pack had moved from England decades ago, it makes sense for some new pack to claim the vacated land. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

But he’s heading straight toward London after that. He thinks maybe he has been for a long time, without really realizing it.

He’s not sure what he was expecting when he gets to London, but whatever it is, he doesn’t find it. There are no big, glowing arrows pointing toward this new pack’s headquarters. No mentions in the newspaper that might broadcast their existence, and everything he hears about them from the magical community is frustratingly second-hand and even more frustratingly unhelpful.

An offhand mention of a dark haired girl saving some people from what sounds like a wendigo. Something about a blond boy – tall and so very sweet – with the scent of a wolf, enrolled in a local college. (Something pings in Stiles’ brain and he earns some very strange looks when he asks if the boy had been wearing a scarf.)

Any outright questions about where the new pack lives, or where the old Hale territory had been, are met with closed-mouth suspicion. A strange human sweeping into town, asking around about a wolf pack? Stiles guesses it probably looks pretty suspicious. And as frustrating as it is, he can’t help but be a little bit pleased to see the supernatural community protecting their own.

He’s not really surprised when Derek finds him at an out of the way pub one night, just slipping onto the barstool next to him and saying “I figured it was you.”

When Stiles looks up he looks just like the image Stiles has been holding onto for all these months: soft beard and sharp features, predator’s eyes that somehow make Stiles feel safe and not scared. He’s not dressed in a leather jacket but it’s still the tail end of summer, so Stiles gives him a pass there.

He looks completely different too, shoulders relaxed in a way Stiles hadn’t known he was physically capable of, his lips curling into a soft smile that seems almost happy. Like sitting here next to Stiles is all Derek could have wanted out of this night.

He lifts his brows questioningly, and Derek goes on:

“Been hearing a lot of rumors about a loud-mouthed American with a spark, running around asking about the Hales.”

And Stiles laughs, feeling strangely free for the first time in ages. Feeling like he’s had a hook dragging in his chest for months now, for over a year, maybe. Pulling at him, leaving him constantly restless in a way he hadn’t even noticed until now. Until he saw Derek sliding onto the stool next to him.

And he realized what he’s been looking for this whole time.

anonymous asked:

Dirk Strider is made out of love, prince of my heart, i love him so much.

You didnt ask for this but you put Dirk and love in the same sentence and this is what i’ve been thinking about so lets go

Im gonna ramble about how much Dirk would love John Egbert and Jade Harley like, instantly, he did conceptually before he even met them but the instant they meet Dirk is permanently owned and has that many more people he’d happily die for because: Dirk loves Jane and Jake more than life itself, and John and Jade are…their kids basically. And early on Dirk cannot unsee that. 

The biggest treason this fandom has ever committed to my person is ignoring the fact that Dirk Strider would fucking melt himself to death even looking at John Egbert or Jade Harley and deconstructing all the little ways they’re like Jake and Jane and thinking about his typical self-loathing shit like “god those two would’ve been so happy together I’m such an ass for getting in the way look at them their kids are perfect they’re so good–”  

before Jake like puts his arm around Dirk’s shoulders and all thoughts immediately stop if they’re dating again, it’s probably a source of great angst for Dirk before they are and one of the bigger reasons he stays away. Maybe Jake and Jane will get the idea and be happy together. Someone write this for me thanks. 

Anyway that got too sad so back to Dirk’s relationship with the ectokids. 

Early on in Earth C John gets the impression Dirk hates him early on and pranks him pretty hard and often but while it kind of annoys Dirk when all his meticulously set up horsecam figurines get their heads swapped (and john breaks some of them in the process) he’s mostly just reminded that things with him and Jane are still awkward enough that he hasn’t gotten this from HER and he’s a torn up bag of “Fuck I miss her” and “Fuck I can’t believe how much I care about her goober ecto-son already” and NONE of this gets across his stoic demeanor so all john gets is that poker face. It takes them fucking forever to be actual friends and I’m not sure what does it but its probably the formidable teamwork of Jake and Dave who get sick of the awkwardness eventually. 

Meanwhile Dirk is 100% in awe of and terrified of disappointing Jade Harley who he A) cannot stop thinking about as JAKE’S GRANDMA and “OH GOD WHAT IF SHE DISSAPROVES WHAT IF I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH WHAT IF-”- and B) Cannot stop thinking about as SO MUCH like Jane it kills him. She’s so no-nonsense and down to business and whenever he starts rambling too much about philosophy or some bullshit she just looks at him like … and he’s like “Ok I’ll shut up.”  The way Jade moves in a science lab is EXACTLY like Jane moves in a kitchen (or later, a business meeting) and Dirk knows because he learned the ins and outs of that movement by heart across so many video cam sessions growing up. Everything about Jade Harley destroys Dirk and he thinks she’s the fucking coolest and there’s basically no part of him that didn’t love her from the word go 

Dirk manages to work up the will to keep everyone else (but Jake) out of his private garage but not Jade, Dirk’s got all this futuretech practice and as SOON as Jade catches wind of this she’s like “Hey dirk! Alt!Callie handed me the secrets of the universe and basically i need a bigger workshop and better science can you help me out” and that’s basically his main project for the next two years is catching Jade up on 400 years of scientific progress (Jake tags along) and having to work on his weirdo animatronic shit that he was GOING to use his garage for originally in like, one of the cramped floors of Jake’s jungle globe instead

But it’s fine cause it makes Jade happy and getting to be helpful to Jade is like a dream come fucking true and Jake is so happy whenever he and Jade get to talking about some interesting intersection of philosophy and science or furries or whatever. The first time Jade gives him a friendly smack on the back Dirk jumps so hard he hits the roof.

Give Dirk Strider love thanks 

2

Mewtwo concept art for class!

While Mewtwo is powerful and vicious, it is also the result of some very questionable experiments, and I think it should show it.

Its skull is only partially formed, and its brain stem extends from its neck out of the back of the malformed structure. It also has a secondary center of nerves housed its weak, thinly skinned tail, responsible for its formidable psychic powers. It has lost the fur that Mew has, and the texture of its skin ranges from fuzzy, to tough and leathery on its torso, to nearly slimy on its tail.

(click to view, tumblr seems to be making them fuzzy)

NEW WEAPON

Behold, the scythe! This weapon excels at crowd control with its wide arcs and formidable range.

ENCHANTMENTS

All throughout the world, rare crystal slugs scurry between its nooks and crannies. Slaying them will grant you a valuable gem used for enchanting your weapons.

Bring one of them to this guy…

And he will either disenchant existing items and weapons or upgrade your equipment.

To cap this update off, let’s not forget about Halloween! We’ve posted this detailed cosplay guide for those of you who don’t have a costume yet and want to dip feathers in oil and paste them all over your body!

Happy Halloween!

“We must remember that the most subtle, most powerful, most refined energy that is produced and marvelously conduced through the human organism is the sexual energy.

By very deeply analyzing the astounding power of the sexual energy, we arrive at the conclusion that it is extraordinarily volatile and very difficult to store and control.

The sexual energy is like a deposit of dynamite; its presence signifies a formidable source of tremendous potentiality, and also a constant danger of a catastrophic explosion.”

— Samael Aun Weor: Treatise of Sexual Alchemy

Starving Artist AU

Here’s another RWBY AU y’all. This one I’ve been talking to theivorytowercrumbles about because of a post they reblogged. So, let’s get this rolling!

Weiss is a Trust Fund Baby trying hard to do the “starving artist thing” in Vale as a sculptor. Specifically she primarily does marble carving (ostentatious little shit isn’t she) and switches it up with clay once in a while. Mostly Weiss winds up carving fancy paper weights for CEOs in order to pay for the refurbished Warehouse she, and the Xiao Long siblings, are living in. Yang gives her shit for “selling out” until Weiss points out that if it wasn’t for her they’d be sleeping in parks instead.

Ruby is a tiny hyper bundle of Mad Engineer. She’s always building things from various kinds of scrap metal that are often animatronic. Occasionally there’s material switch ups with pvc pipes, clay/ceramic and wood mixed in but, for the most part she shines with making monsters of metal. She’s also very prone to underselling her pieces because, like Yang, its more important to have her work seen than paid for. Sometimes she caught in a whirl of new types of art that she can fold back into making her pieces all the more unique and fantastic.

Yang doesn’t have a specific niche artistically; well maybe Abstract in the broad spectrum. Yang’s particular area of the warehouse’s bottom floor is an ever changing enigma. She’ll paint, carve, sculpt, dance, create weird “avante garde” music. And has actually acted in local musical/plays and whatever art film shenanigans Coco’s been up to. Yang is always finding and learning new and varied forms of art. She also drives Weiss up the wall with her mess and constant blaring of any form of music (but La Vie Boheme from RENT in particular is a favorite).

Blake was a Theology major at a college going for priesthood in the Catholic church before Political Reasons caused them to have to abandon this particular path. Since then they have become, in Ivory’s amazing words, a wandering tattoo artist who gives semi-priestly advice. Blake is also covered in tattoos themselves. Notably, they have the map of Heaven and Hell from Dante’s Inferno covering their entire back. Most of their tattoos haven’t be fully decided but its agreed that they have the angelic Thrones somewhere as well as imagery in regards to St. Sebastian given his gay icon status. They’re completely fluent in Latin and often use it to make snide remarks without anyone knowing what’s being said exactly.

I’m gonna throw the rest under a read more so this isn’t too long. (sorry mobile users)

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A Warrior’s Life

TITLE: A Warrior’s Life

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirteen

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine Viking Loki coming to your village, raiding and pillaging, before deciding there is something about you that intrigues him and deciding to take you back to Asgard with him. There, you are forced to learn a new life and language, and though you hate what has happened to you, you learn that Loki is not as bad as you think.

RATING: Mature.

“If you wish to leave, then leave. You are free to do so. No one will stop you.” Loki yelled, pointing to the door. He watched as Maebh grabbed the wolf pelt she used to stave off the cold when she was working outside, then turned once more to glare at Loki silently, as he did to her, and walked out the door and away from the homestead without another backward glance.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

It took a few weeks for Maebh’s hand to heal, the knife had not gone through bone, but it was still very tender to move or touch. And though Loki had tried to forbid her from doing anything that would strain it in anyway, she continued with most of the housework. While she was injured, Loki did the jobs that Maebh found she was unable to do, and it was then that he realised how much she did without ever even being asked, or him even thinking it needed doing, such as sharpening the knives, axe and even his sword, as well as beating the pelts to freshen them.

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The Symbolism of the Silence

Getting a full sense of Euron’s character requires an appreciation for the symbolism of his ship. Long before he was a king or a warlock, Euron was the captain of the Silence. The Silence, as befits its name, is a ship of stealth and secrets. The Damphair remembers how “[t]he decks of Euron’s ship were painted red, to better hide the blood that soaked them” (FfC Aeron I). Later, Victarion observes that the Silence’s sails are “black as a starless sky,” which is to say, black as the darkest night imaginable (FfC Victarion I). Then there is the ships very unsettling iron figurehead:

On her prow was a black iron maiden with one arm outstretched. Her waist was slender, her breasts high and proud, her legs long and shapely. A windblown mane of black iron hair streamed from her head, and her eyes were mother-of-pearl, but she had no mouth. (FfC Victarion I)

The Silence reveals nothing and tells no tales, it is a quiet predator and mute witness.

When Euron returns from the East he brings a foreign crew that perfectly matches his ship’s ‘overtly secretive’ motif by being tongue-less mutes. Throughout the story the absence of tongues has been intertwined with secrecy. Varys has his little birds’ tongues cut out in order to prevent them from accidently divulging his secrets. Jaime Lannister practices his feeble one handed swordplay with the tongue-less and illiterate Ilyn Payne so that no one else may find out how terrible he now is. Roose Bolton, after discovering that the peasant woman he’d raped and fathered Ramsay on had been turned out by her brother, took the tongue of said brother “to make certain he did not go running to Winterfell with tales that might disturb Lord Rickard” (DwD Theon III). Theon knows that if he doesn’t mind his tongue about Barbary and Roose’s intrigues then he will lose it (DwD Theon V). Then there is a certain, passing remark made by Salladhor Saan whilst amiably bantering with Davos:

“A certain Lysene pirate once told me that a good smuggler stays out of sight,” Davos replied carefully. “Black sails, muffled oars, and a crew that knows how to hold their tongues.“

The Lysene laughed. "A crew with no tongues is even better. Big strong mutes who cannot read or write.” (SoS Davos V)

Notably it is in that same book Euron reappears, sailing into Lordsport on a ship with black sails and a mute crew. Later, when Asha confronts Euron about Balon’s death the Crow’s Eye taunts her by intentionally highlighting the secrecy his mute crew provides him with:

“The Silence was at sea when Balon died. If you doubt an uncle’s word, I give you leave to ask my crew.”

“A crew of mutes? Aye, that would serve me well.” (FfC Victarion I)

The Silence might be a pirate ship but it is outfitted and crewed like Saan’s ideal smuggler’s vessel. It is clearly smuggling something into Westeros.

Completing the whole setup is the black eye patch worn by the ship’s captain. Euron’s heterochromia is unusual, but there is nothing wrong or inherently magical about his infamous black “crow’s eye.” Yet he covers it anyway. The best explanation for this is that Euron Crows Eye wears an eye patch over his “crow’s eye” for the same reason he captains a ship named the Silence. He wears it as an intentionally ostentatious symbol of his secrecy. While other manipulators put up a false front to disguise their inner nature, Euron not only hides himself in plain sight but creates a whole public persona around symbols of things clearly being hidden in plain sight. The blood red deck, the pitch black sails, the mouth-less iron maiden, the tongue-less crew, and the unnecessary eye patch all indicate that something is not only being hidden but hidden openly and boastfully at that. Euron’s whole public persona therefore amounts to a gigantic refuge in audacity. He keeps his secrets by distracting and intimidating people with the imagery of secrecy. Lost in this imagery, the Ironborn (and quite a few readers) never think to ponder and question what lies behind it (and hence so many captains at the Kingsmoot think he’s awesome and so many readers think he’s a shallow character).

On an even more disturbing level, a fundamental part of being Euron’s victim is being forced to stay silent about what he has done to you. All of Euron’s victims are silent; they are in a sense marked by their silence, literally in the case of the Dusky Woman and Euron’s unnaturally mute crew. After Euron raped/enslaved the Dusky Woman he cut out her tongue so she couldn’t tell anyone who she is and what happened to her. Euron similarly removed the tongue of each member of his crew. In this they are stripped of their identity and agency, becoming not unlike the Silence’s figurehead. Being voiceless, Euron can define who and what they are and use them as he sees fit. The way the Silence is set up, the only story that matters is the one Euron tells, the only reality the one Euron creates. His crew is nothing but extensions of his will and their stories do not matter.

Those who have not lost their tongues are terrified or shamed into silence, even if they are powerful, well born men. Aeron tells no one of his molestation and Victarion is for the most part quiet about Euron’s actions (his third wife meanwhile is dead, so she’s not talking either). In this case it is the taboos and patriarchal shame culture of Ironborn society as much as fear of Euron that keeps them silent. One wonders how many silent victims Euron has amongst the smallfolk.

Although he would not admit it, Victarion clearly holds his tongue in Euron’s presence lest he anger his older brother:

The sharpness in Asha’s voice made Victarion frown. It was dangerous to speak so to the Crow’s Eye, even when his smiling eye was shining with amusement. (FfC Victarion I)

Aeron however does no such thing and this is what makes him the stronger personality. For most of his life he drowned his silence with alcohol and empty bravado, but after Balon’s First Rebellion he was born again and found a new identity through the voice of the Drowned God. It is the powerful, divine voice of the sea that brings him solace and the ability to strike back at Euron. Unable to attack Euron as a rapist, he loudly denounces him for his impiety and pride, as it is these defects of character that Aeron’s blames for Euron’s earlier abuse. Aeron’s formidable voice, its strength, its depth, its oceanic quality, and its supposedly divine inspiration are consistently highlighted in the text:

“Lord God who drowned for us,” the priest prayed, in a voice as deep as the sea…

[Aeron’s] own voice rang in that smoky hall, so full of power that neither Gorold Goodbrother nor his maester dared a reply. The Drowned God is with me, Aeron thought. He has shown me the way.

[Aeron’s] voice was as deep as the ocean, and thundered like the waves.

“The god took me deep beneath the waves and drowned the worthless thing I was. When he cast me forth again he gave me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a voice to spread his word, that I might be his prophet and teach his truth to those who have forgotten. I was not made to sit upon the Seastone Chair… no more than Euron Crow’s Eye. For I have heard the god, who says, No godless man may sit my Seastone Chair!” (FfC Aeron I)

Aeron speaks with the Drowned God’s voice, Victarion reminded himself, and if the Drowned God wills that I should sit the Seastone Chair… (FfC Victarion I)

Aeron’s voice thundered like the waves.

The sea was stirring too. The waves grew larger as the wind rose, sending plumes of spray to crash against the longships. The Drowned God wakes, thought Aeron. He could hear his voice welling from the depths of the sea. I shall be with you here this day, my strong and faithful servant, the voice said. No godless man will sit my Seastone Chair. (FfC Aeron II)

When Euron wins the Kingsmoot despite Aeron’s best efforts, the divine voice within him goes momentarily silent from doubt:

Even a priest may doubt. Even a prophet may know terror. Aeron Damphair reached within himself for his god and discovered only silence. As a thousand voices shouted out his brother’s name, all he could hear was the scream of a rusted iron hinge. (FfC Aeron II)

However, this state of doubt filled silence does not last past Euron’s coronation. By the time night has fallen Aeron is more determined then ever, plotting to use his voice to raise the people against the new king:

“I have my voice and the god is with me. Mine is the strength of the sea, a strength the Crow’s Eye cannot hope to withstand.” (FfC Victarion II)

Immediately afterwards he vanishes and is nowhere to be found. Euron was not blind to the danger posed by this powerful and revered voice, so he threw Aeron into the belly of the Silence and cut out his tongue.

Note: edited for clarity.
  • france: has 12 people violently being murdered at charlie hebdo by two extremist jihadist assholes
  • france: is completely in shock
  • tumblr: "this is horrible but they shouldn't have drawn those satirical pictures"
  • tumblr: reblogging posts about society having to stop doing victim-blaming
  • tumblr: victim-blaming the people murdered in france
  • france: has one black woman cop getting shot by a third extremist jihadist asshole, who's friend with the two brothers responsible for the charlie hebdo murders
  • tumblr: i can't believe the charlie hebdo kiling is getting so much attention
  • france: has the entire country being in grief, afraid, angry, medias are repetitively saying that the three extremist jihadist assholes are not representative of muslims, majority of the french population think the same
  • tumblr: "stop spreading bullshit, medias are so islamophobic, islam has nothing to do with the shooting in paris"
  • france: see live coverage on tv of two assaults occurring at the same time at two different places, one is by the two jihadist assholes brothers having an hostage in a printing house, the other is in the center of paris where the third jihadist asshole shot four jew hostages in a kosher grocery store, a black muslim man working there hide all the other clients in a refrigerator to save them
  • tumblr: has no respect or compassion for the french population and their victims
  • tumblr: "look at these charlie hebdo drawings they are so racist, islamophobic, sexist and homophobic"
  • france: charlie hebdo has in it's staff gay people, non-white people, lots of women, people raised in religious background including islamic education, still can laugh about everything because that's fucking common sense
  • france: charlie hebdo isn't all the negative shit you say about them, it's all the contrary, they were a left-wing journal made to provoke and make fun of everything wrong with the world, often mocking ALL the religions, ALL political figures and having journalists/cartoonists fighting racism by being part of associations and projects in favor of minorities.
  • tumblr: reblog posts full of misinformations, basically insulting france in times of grieving and pain
  • tumblr: "i am not charlie"
  • france: organize gigantic walks in paris and all the big cities in france, people are hugging each other, holding signs of drawings of charlie hebdo, drawings denouncing hate, drawings and messages in favor of peace, freedom of speech, love, people sing together, folks come from other countries just to show their support, atheists/jews/muslims/catholics talk together against violence and amalgams, 4millions people walks in the french streets, it's historic, a formidable movement of democracy, we morn our dead but show a beautiful image against extremism and obscurantism
  • france: the whole week has a tragic counter: 17 victims, white and poc ppl, men and women
  • tumblr: "look there are 2000 people who have being murdered by boko haram in nigeria and all the world think about is those 12 racist white men killed in paris"
  • france: "sorry we don't talk about this as much as the charlie hebdo massacre, it's because this week has been horrible and intense for us, but really it's sickening what happened to people in Nigeria, fuck those boko haram assholes, 2000 dead this is fucking insane!! this is the world we live in!!"
  • france: is about to organize a walk for the folks being murdered by boko haram
  • tumblr: france is so selfish and self-centered i can't stand them
  • france: give french nationality to the muslim who helped the jews in the kosher grocery store
  • france: christiane taubira (the black woman depicted as a monkey in charlie hebdo to show how racist the french FN party is) talking in favor of charlie hebdo, giving a beautiful speech at tignous's funeral "we have the right to draw everything, including a prophet. because in france we have the right to make fun of religions"
  • tumblr: reblogging a gifset of "les misérables"
  • tumblr: i hate france
  • tumblr: they have no-go zones for muslims in paris, i know it's the truth, i saw it on fox-news, our american medias always tell the truth
  • tumblr: 'murica"

Ain’t no party like a Gallifrey: Enemy Lines party cuz whatever can go wrong will…

The Marine Corps crew of an ONTOS keep a constant watch on ‘no-man’s land’ during Operation Mobile in the Chu Lai area of South Vietnam.

The ONTOS is protected not only by its formidable 106mm recoilless rifles but also by the strands of barbed wire in the foreground.

Photo taken: May 1966

Knight Errants are a common type of Imperial Knight walker. The aggressive nobles who pilot these Knights lead the charge of Knight Houses when they go to war and prefer to fight at the forefront of battle, hunting enemy tanks and war engines or charging into the fray. Where a Knight Paladin is equipped for a flexible battlefield role, a Knight Errant specializes in close range actions. Indeed, so effective are the Knights in this capacity that Imperial officers will do everything in their power to requisition the services of such a valuable military asset, never more so than when they are expecting to face a super-heavy or Titan-class threat.

In the heat of battle, where a normal warrior tires as the exertions of combat take their inevitable toll, a Knight Errant is as relentless as the tide: an unstoppable engine of death, capable of overcoming the mightiest of foes, no matter how large or heavily armoured they may be. With its heavy adamantine armour and Ion Shield, a Knight Errant will have no compunction about charging straight at the enemy in order to close the distance, all the while using its formidable thermal cannon to devastating effect. Countless times have heretics, believing themselves safe within their fortified strongholds, watched in horror as the walls around them have melted and sloughed away to reveal a Knight Errant ready to butcher them in their own sanctuary. Even should a foe not be immediately incinerated by the thermal cannon, a Knight Errant carrys a Reaper Chainsword or Thunderstrike Gauntlet in their other arm to finish them off. Finally, the Knight Errant is also armed with a Heavy Stubber mounted in its carapace to cut down infantry.

Any central government, setting out to rule a nation, will inevitably be formed of disparate elements, conservative in its essence, and nothing more than a hindrance to the revolution. It will merely hobble the Communes which are ready to march forward, without being able to inspire the backward Communes with a revolutionary urge. The same will happen in the heart of an insurgent Commune. Either the communal government will do no more than sanction what has already been done, and it will then be a useless and potentially dangerous mechanism; or it will attempt to act with prudence and regulate what should be elaborated freely by the people themselves if it is to be viable; it will apply theories where society should be elaborating new forms of communal life with the creative force that rises up in the social organism when it breaks its chains and sees new and broad horizons opening out before it. Men who hold power will hinder that impulse, without producing anything on their own of which they might be capable if they remained in the heart of the people, working beside them in elaborating a new organization instead of closing themselves up in offices and exhausting their energies in idle debate. That will be a hindrance and a peril; powerless to do good but formidable in its possibilities of evil; thus, it has no reason to exist.
—  Kropotkin