#planetary devastation

[felixwylde]

The Last Empire: When the Earth Remembers

In an alternate, turbulent world, Donald Trump has declared himself “President for Life” and “Supreme Leader” of the United States. His regime quickly turns authoritarian, fueled by an intense nationalistic ideology. With the U.S. crippled by massive climate devastation—its once-fertile Midwest now a desolate wasteland—Trump pushes a campaign to expand his influence overseas. He declares his…

[exhaled-spirals]

« To mention the global loss of biodiversity, that is to say, the disappearance of life on our planet, as one of our problems, along with air pollution or ocean acidification, is absurd—like a doctor listing the death of his patient as one symptom among others.

The ecological catastrophe cannot be reduced to the climate crisis. We must think about the disappearance of life in a global way. About two-thirds of insects, wild mammals and trees disappeared in a few years, a few decades and a few millennia, respectively. This mass extinction is not mainly caused by rising temperatures, but by the devastation of natural habitats.

Suppose we managed to invent clean and unlimited energy. This technological feat would be feted by the vast majority of scientists, synonymous in their eyes with a drastic reduction in CO2 emissions. In my opinion, it would lead to an even worse disaster. I am deeply convinced that, given the current state of our appetites and values, this energy would be used to intensify our gigantic project of systemic destruction of planetary life. Isn't that what we've set out to do—replace forests with supermarket parking lots, turn the planet into a landfill? What if, to cap it all, energy was free?

[...C]limate change has emerged as our most important ecological battle [...] because it is one that can perpetuate the delusional idea that we are faced with an engineering problem, in need of technological solutions. At the heart of current political and economic thought lies the idea that an ideal world would be a world in which we could continue to live in the same way, with fewer negative externalities. This is insane on several levels. Firstly because it is impossible. We can't have infinite growth in a finite world. We won't. But also, and more importantly, it is not desirable. Even if it were sustainable, the reality we construct is hell. [...]

It is often said that our Western world is desacralised. In reality, our civilisation treats the technosphere with almost devout reverence. And that's worse. We perceive the totality of reality through the prism of a hegemonic science, convinced that it “says” the only truth.

The problem is that technology is based on a very strange principle, so deeply ingrained in us that it remains unexpressed: no brakes are acceptable, what can be done must be done. We don't even bother to seriously and collectively debate the advisability of such "advances". We are under a spell. And we are avoiding the essential question: is this world in the making, standardised and computed, overbuilt and predictable, stripped of stars and birds, desirable?

To confine science to the search for "solutions" so we can continue down the same path is to lack both imagination and ambition. Because the “problem” we face doesn't seem to me, at this point, to be understood. No hope is possible if we don't start by questioning our assumptions, our values, our appetites, our symbols... [...] Let's stop pretending that the numerous and diverse human societies that have populated this planet did not exist. Certainly, some of them have taken the wrong route. But ours is the first to forge ahead towards guaranteed failure. »

— Aurélien Barrau, particle physicist and philosopher, in an interview in Télérama about his book L'Hypothèse K

[lets-try-some-writing]

https://www.tumblr.com/lets-try-some-writing/768522286265417728/have-you-seen-the-humans-are-space-cats-tag-i

Just saw this post; how many times do you think a human snuck aboard a cybertronian ship simply because they diddnt have anything to lose on earth or just wanted to start a new life.

How would the cybertronians react to their stowaway?

You know what? I love this prompt so take a lil fic thing to go with it. Partially inspired by @nova--spark's Earth101 writing.

Human Stowaway

Report from: OSCD (Organic Study and Comprehension Division) - Expeditionary crew of The Illuminator.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

During out last scientific expedition to the planet Earth, we followed proper procedure and the tests we ran went as they were meant to. However, it was only once we were already en-route to Cybertron that we discovered a little... souvenir from our planetary assessment.

An organic, a human specimen that calls itself Mah-Ark Hah-Rt, snuck aboard our vessel. We were aware of the phenomenon of humans abandoning their world in favor of sneaking onto Cybertronian vessels. But we did not anticipate a human deciding to take up residence on our ship. We are just a science vessel after all, and more often than not, reports of human stowaways come from private ships and small visiting groups of younglings attending tours of Earth for educational purposes. Those humans are usually returned or taken in by the vessels they board. But in both cases, there are certain contingencies already in place for such an event.

We do not have any such contingencies. And so as soon as we discovered Mah-Ark, we opted to take care of it until we arrived on Cybertron and could send it to Captain Bumblebee, the designated liaison to Earth. With all that said, our interactions with Mah-Ark have been interesting to say the least.

Scans and close assessments using our knowledge of humanity have indicated Mah-Ark is a human male. It, (or as Mah-Ark prefers to be addressed) he appears to not be much older than two stellar cycles of age, nineteen by Earth solar standards. Despite our studies of human languages, communication has been difficult. Mah-Ark speaks only a little of Earth's major language of trade and instead primarily speaks the Earth dialect of 'Russian'. We have no idea what he is saying most of the time, but we've learned to largely read him.

So far, we've managed to figure out why he's here based on a few scattered 'memes', various pop culture references, and through having him draw things. He used quite a few English curses along with the name of several planetary leaders on his homeworld, so we assume he has been dissatisfied and tried to escape elsewhere. He also drew a rather devastating scene of several human shaped figures being hit by a vehicle, so we've come to believe he may be without a clan to lean on. With that in mind, his abandonment of his planet makes more sense.

After we pulled Mah-Ark out of the vent he was hiding in, we discovered quite quickly that humans have needs that must be met. After his internals made very concerning sounds and he proceeded to pull out a can of mushed... stuff, we concluded that we needed to get supplies. Mah-Ark needed to fuel first and foremost, and we lacked the necessary resources. Mah-Ark brought enough supplies to fuel himself for roughly an Earth week, but we had to take a detour to try and find alternative fuel for his organic frame. We would have returned to Earth, but by that point the effort would have been wasted due to travel constraints. In the end, we took a path past a techno-organic world where we used some excess funding to purchase an array of fuels.

The techno-organics inhabiting the world were kind enough to offer suggestions, but presenting the fuel to Mah-Ark was informative and annoying in equal measure. Mah-Ark was unable to use his mouth bones to pierce the thick shell of many of the nuts we purchased, and even when broken, he was still incapable of digesting many. The few that we concluded were soft enough to be consumed did not often appeal to him. He purged them from his systems soon after or otherwise was unable to keep them in his frame. We attempted to offer fruits from the techno-organics as well as a few of their other organic crops, but most were rejected by our stowaway. We checked everything and confirmed it to be close enough to Earth plant life to be consumed safely, but Mah-Ark had opinions and flat out refused a great deal of it.

Analysis of human customs, specifically 'Russia' and its surrounding territory revealed a more meat and carbohydrate based diet. Once we discovered this, we made another detour to a similar planet and spoke to the organics there for guidance. With their aid, and after confirming Mah-Ark would be safe to wander, we had our human properly outfitted for long term space travel and gathered supplies suitable for him. He greatly enjoys meats rich in fats along with various baked goods. The organics we took him to found him quite endearing and supplied us with enough to make it to Cybertron and longer, just in case. We considered purchasing H2O, but thankfully, as a science vessel, we have machinery to gather 'water' and produce it for Mah-Ark.

With his fueling and hydration concerns addressed, housing Mah-Ark was a whole other affair. Humans are complicated creatures. The mutterings from other crews with humans make it seem as though their humans are totally comfortable anywhere. While this is partially true, Mah-Ark did not enjoy many of the places we put him. The vents were too dark for his liking and we often found him crying when left alone there for long. The loss of water from his system was concerning, so we moved him to other various alcoves. He was not found of high places for fear of falling while in recharge (we were unaware humans moved so much while recharging). He disliked the space beneath the command console where there was a heater. He muttered something about 'boiling' and we quickly got the picture after assessing his liquid loss.

Even when we found a place in our Captain's quarters for Mah-Ark to reside, the human was not happy being so far from the crew. Humans are also social creatures, and thus we devised a system to keep Mah-Ark from losing too many fluids to stress. Every time Mah-Ark had to recharge, he warned us with a 'yawn' and one of the crew would hold him in their arms. Or if the crew was also set to recharge, one of us (usually decided by a randomizer), would take him to berth with them. Each of us created a small makeshift location near our berths for Mah-Ark. He liked being able to see us.

We also found that soft things were greatly appreciated by our resident human. Mah-Ark hoards things that are soft, and so we ended up shredding one of our emergency thermoplastic sheets for him to use as bedding. He seemed to appreciate it, especially once one of the crew carefully fluffed up the torn substance into a nesting material. Mah-Ark was surprisingly resourceful and wove the provided material into a surprisingly solid berth in each of the crew's quarters. Since his various berths have been created, Mah-Ark has been noted being exceptionally cheerful, at least based on body language and the abundance of 'laughter'. It was a bit difficult to adjust to Mah-Ark's frequent need to recharge, but we have learned to adjust.

By the time we had all of this figured out, Mah-Ark had been with us for almost two Earth weeks. Around the third Earth week, Mah-Ark expressed a severe amount of restlessness. Observation led us to believe he lacked enrichment. And it was through our attempts to handle his needs that we discovered just why other crews enjoy having humans around.

Mah-Ark brought various devices that were rendered useless in deep space, and so we devised a few new things for him to watch media on. Most of it was in Cybertronian, but Mah-Ark began to learn through watching out media. Before we knew it, Mah-Ark was making noises akin to glyphs. It was incredibly slurred and almost indecipherable due to his organic biology, but he learned some of the easiest terms and we soon found ourselves watching him speak like a sparkling. He learned to point out energon, various parts of the frame, and several important parts around the ship. Once we confirmed he was able to comprehend pieces of our language, we began to guide him.

Humans are quick learners.

After almost two Earth months with us, Mah-Ark spoke enough broken base Cybertronian to be understood. We learned that he enjoyed engineering, specifically working with heavy machinery. Our resident medic took the chance to see if it was possible to train a human in a useful Cybertronian skill, and to our surprise, Mah-Ark learned and became a very useful tool to scan to for micro fissures and other small issues in our frames. Mah-Ark, so long as he was properly guarded in armor and body suites, was quickly able to figure out where small errors were located and even begin helping to weld and stitch things into place.

He has made a useful medical aid indeed. Additionally, he learned to help maintain our ship and, after a few close calls with pipes, became proficient in assessing the internal wiring of the command console. His small size has made him beyond useful in many regards.

Aside from his useful application, Mah-Ark has... endeared himself to us. He has interesting insights and takes such joy in things we know to be commonplace. His short life means he had seen next to nothing of what we have. It brightens our cycles to show him all that we have discovered and learned and watch him awe over it. In turn, he tells us of his life on his homeworld, at least as much as he can. His existence is simple, but his descriptions and illustrations of his life have made him more than interesting. He's a companion. He is, despite being so much smaller and far more fragile than us, a thoughtful member of our crew.

Every day he learns more and speaks more of our language, albeit a version we have dumbed down for his benefit. He has even begun trying to create various tools to travel around the ship faster, in order to match the speed of the rest of us of course. He loves to watch and ask question. He enjoys being held in our servos. He is... more than a pet. He is a friend.

In light of all of this, the crew of the Illuminator would like to make a formal request to keep Mah-Ark Hah-Rt as part of our team. We would also like to request permission to correspond with other vessels with human crew members to learn of their ways and possibly get Mah-Ark a few of his own kind to associate with. We lack information on medical care for humans along with various other niche subject matters regarding his care. It would be amazing to have access to further resources, or even a call with Captain Bumblebee or others who are familiar with Earth.

We care for our human. No matter how small he is or how short his time with us will be. No matter how complicated it is to learn of his needs. We want to keep him. The crew of the Illuminator make this request fully acknowledging the difficulties ahead, but this stowaway is ours, and we intend to keep him if possible.

[path-of-grass-and-leaves]

Bioregional Magic: Sustainable Ways to Work with Native Plants

Note: Post Contains Personal Anecdotes and UPG

As someone with a nature-based practice, I completely understand the desire to work with native plants. Many of us are deeply compelled to foster a connection with our land spirits and the local flora and fauna.

But with the normalization of consumption in witchcraft spaces paired with unethical wildcrafting and foraging practices, it's important to be careful. We don't want to harm the native plant populations and the wildlife that depends on them in our quest for a more localized practice.

Learning which plants are safe to harvest

By safe, I don't mean safe to handle or consume, though this is also crucial knowledge for anyone harvesting wild plants in general. I'm specifically referring to whether or not the collection of native plant matter will make a negative impact on the local ecosystem.

Think of it this way, if your practice is spirit-focused. Will the collective spirits of certain plants really want to assist you if you're devastating their population for your own gain? IME the answer is a hard no.

Take a look at a field guide and start identifying some of the native plants in your region. Are some of them listed as endangered, threatened, or special concern? Now you know which plants you should never disturb or collect materials from.

If not threatened, are some species generally harder to find? Are they present only in a certain type of environment? Do they take a long time to mature and/or have a very specific method of seed dispersal? Proceed with caution.

Example:

Common Blue Violets are one of the first plants to bloom in my garden during springtime. I also consider them very important in my practice and like to harvest them for certain rituals. But like I said, they're one of the first native plants to bloom during spring. Which means there are going to be pollinating insects, songbirds, and small mammals which rely on these plants for food. And predators who rely on those animals.

Since this is a hardy plant that usually grows in abundance, it's okay for me to harvest some from the garden for personal use. But I still need to leave enough to serve as a resource for wildlife and allow it to reproduce for the following year.

On the contrary, I never touch my wild Bloodroot. I only have two or three plants in the garden, their seeds have double dormancy germination requirements, and they take 2-3 years to reach blooming size. I have only ever collected seeds for propagation, and even then do it rarely because I know that the ants do a much better job at this than I could.

So when we can't harvest materials to use for tools and ingredients in workings, how do we utilize these plants in our practice?

Physical Representations and Symbolism

Images, objects, and symbols representing the plant can be used to substitute organic matter that you would otherwise collect and use for workings. Consider art pieces or photos, sculptures, sigils and seals, paper cut or folded into the shape of leaves or flowers, etc.

If the plant is your main component or energy source, consider designing the working to cater to this. For example, if I'm petitioning the spirit of milkweed, I might want to incorporate aspects of air and wind, since this is how their seeds are distributed. Or I may want to add some lunar energies knowing that this is the planetary correspondence for milkweed. This is would completely depend on my intent for the specific working and which physical or spiritual aspects of the plant I choose to work with.

If you're seeking a more long-term effect, try getting crafty and using symbols of the plant to decorate your own tools. I'm talking homemade oracle cards, painted jars or boxes for container spells, decorated offering bowls, ritual jewelry, and so on.

Working with Living Plants

This one is for the spirit workers. While it's entirely possible to petition plant spirits, especially collectives, solely using imagery, working carefully with a living plant can help establish a more direct spiritual connection.

This can be done by conducting your working outdoors, inviting the spirit of the plant into your space, and asking for assistance. During this time you would leave an offering, usually fresh water, but you can also offer things like soil or compost. Obtaining a working knowledge of certain plants can help inspire ideas for more creative, species-appropriate offerings, giving your spells and rituals an extra boost.

Now if this were a plant that was on a special concern or endangered species list, I would avoid offerings and actions that could potentially disturb the plant in any way. I may work within a few feet of the plant and present my offering in a bowl, removing it at the end of the working. I would definitely avoid touching it or say, pouring out water over the soil where it grows.

While we're on the subject of offerings, consider acts of service. Once again, we're going to use milkweed as an example. If I want to leave a nice offering for the spirit of milkweed and I know that Black Swallowtails feed on the nectar and pollinate it, I may offer a potted plant of dill placed in the wildflower garden. This is because Black Swallowtail caterpillars love to eat dill and will later pupate into adults, which will be beneficial for the plant. Consider different species and their relationship with each other. You may even get multiple spirit allies out of the deal.

Cultivation and Seed Distribution

Now, we've talked about ways to avoid harm when incorporating native plant species into our practices, but what about making a positive impact?

The Act of Growing Things is actually my favorite part of plant magic. Sure, I love harvesting my vegetables, fruit, and herbs to use in various recipes, and wild plants I find in the yard are excellent allies. But there really is something special about watching a tiny seedling grow into a full-sized plant, or seeing that delicate young native perennial thrive during its first year outdoors.

Whether transplanting or growing from seed, you're inevitably going to develop a strong relationship with that specific plant. You'll learn all about its growth rate, ecological benefits, soil requirements, and more. This will lead to folklore, correspondences, and later on your own UPG related to where this plant fits within your practice.

Another option, if you don't have the energy for more hands-on cultivation, is seed scattering. Disturbed areas like roadside ditches or even your backyard are perfect for this. Whether scattering or growing in starter pots, seeds can be charmed or enchanted with a specific intent and planted as a sort of living spell.

I use Prarie Moon Nursery for my seeds, but there are plenty of other affordable online vendors. You can also check out what's available locally. There are a few native-focused nurseries in my area that have a nice variety of options depending on the season.

[gotham-at-nightfall]

Prospero Burns!

The Burning of Prospero, also known as the Desolation of Prospero or Battle of Prospero, is the name of the full-scale invasion and planetary devastation of Prospero, homeworld of the Thousand Sons, by Imperial forces The action was carried out by the Space Wolves Legion, as well as elements of the Legio Custodes and the Sisters of Silence, as a punishment for the Thousand Sons' flagrant violation of the Emperor of Mankind's edicts against the use of psychic powers and sorcery made at the Council of Nikaea. However, the Emperor had ordered the Thousand Sons' Primarch Magnus the Red to be captured and returned to Terra for judgement. The Warmaster Horus, already secretly in thrall to the Ruinous Powers and his own ambition to overthrow the Emperor, intervened and convinced Leman Russ through a message brought by the Sons of Horus to Prospero to defy the Master of Mankind's orders and seek Magnus the Red's death rather than his capture.

By Dima Sokolov

[envysparkler]

au where the justice league is known and well established as Earth's official planetary defense system.  Batman was offered an invitation to join but he hissed at the idea of revealing his identity and said nope, you guys stay out of Gotham.  in return, the JL was like 'okay you can't leave Gotham then'.  for around a decade, Batman sticks to that rule, no real issues, but the JL gets bigger and bigger and it reaches a point that he knows, even with all his contingencies, he'll never be able to take them in a fight

Robin and Batman get into an argument because Robin wants to stretch his wings and Batman refuses to let him.  Robin leaves despite all of Batman's warnings and goes to NYC and cuts all contact.  a couple months later, there's a new hero who calls himself Nightwing who's on the JL.

Bruce freaks out and tries to call Dick, but Dick ignores all his calls.  Bruce ends up keeping tabs on him from afar, always worried.

fast forward to the new Robin.  this time, Bruce impresses from the beginning the importance of never leaving Gotham.  Jason agrees.  three years later, Jason leaves to Ethiopia, Batman follows, the Joker shows up.

it ends with JL intervention and a beaten Jason being taken away by Wonder Woman and the Joker taken away by the JL.  Bruce tries to infiltrate Themyscira, is caught, Diana snaps at him.  Bruce begs asks her to be able to speak to Jason.  Jason is visibly upset and doesn't want to talk to Bruce and tells him that Batman didn't save him and orders him to get out.  Bruce leaves, heartbroken.

a young boy observes a devastated Batman on the streets of Gotham and is determined to help him.  this time, Bruce impresses upon Tim the severity of the situation.  if he leaves Gotham the Justice League will get him.  Tim agrees to be very careful.  Damian shows up and for the first time in a long time, Bruce lets himself relax.

Bruce gets lost in time.  Tim has to leave Gotham to find the clues to help him, he stumbles upon the Titans who offer their help and a spot on their team.  once they find Bruce, Tim forces himself to leave with the Titans, knowing that at least Bruce and Damian will be safe.

Bruce is exhausted and hurt and upset.  he keeps losing children.

meanwhile, the JL is getting increasingly fed up about this brooding vigilante that treats his sidekicks as disposable and never once checks up on them after they leave his fold.  it's a giant miscommunication.

things come to a head when Bruce is forced to go to Metropolis to stop some alien threat or whatever.  Damian sneaks after him, despite express orders to stay, and when Bruce wakes up in a medical tent, Superman tells him that Damian is okay and he's staying with Superman's family.  Clark was not expecting Batman to go back to Gotham, stone-faced, without asking about or picking up his kid.

Bruce is heartbroken, he's lost four children and he just stays in the Cave and cries.  meanwhile Damian, with the Kents, is distressed by the abundance of people his father's warned him about.  he just wants to go home.

[sofiaamxtthee]

Code of affection

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Friends (?) to lovers, nsfw, minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, spicy, happy ending, aftercare.

It’s a short (and spicy) story of you and Tech, because i can’t sleep (yes, i know, i’m a freak). Soo yeah, enjoy.

Shorty, the story is Tech is a yapper, and you love looking at him or listening to him, but you start daydreaming of him, and he notice it then things get spicy. GOOD ENDING? AFTERCARE!!!!

Tech was explaining something. Again.

You sat across from him in the Marauder’s small common area, head tilted lazily to the side, chin resting on your palm. His voice was a familiar melody: quick, precise, filled with big words and endless streams of knowledge about mechanics, the ship’s nav systems, hyperspace routes — you weren’t sure anymore. You’d tuned out about three paragraphs ago.

Because Force, he was so…gorgeous. His eyes, his face, his skin. It was not hot or sexy. It was pretty.

You could stare at him forever. And honestly, you often did.

The sound of Tech’s voice, quick and certain, was one of your favorite things in the galaxy. He could yap on about hyperdrives, planetary ecosystems, ship repairs—and you’d sit there, completely enchanted, chin resting on your hand, eyes tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his lips moved when he talked so fast he barely breathed.

“And if we adjust our course by approximately two degrees, we’ll avoid the ion storm entirely,” he said, hands flying over the console with practiced ease, eyes glowing behind his goggles. “Which, statistically speaking, raises our chances of survival by a factor of—

Tech paused mid-sentence, adjusting his goggles absentmindedly. His gaze sharpened when he noticed your faraway smile — the one you wore when your mind was definitely not following the lecture.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, a tiny crease forming between his brows.

You jolted upright, feeling your cheeks heat up. “No! No, no — you’re not boring at all, Tech! I was just…thinking.”

His head tilted. Curious. Patient. He was always so patient with you.

“Oh?” he said mildly. “Thinking about what? If you were listening, you should have no trouble repeating the last point I made.”

You froze. Your brain scrambled. What had he even been talking about? Hyperspace trajectories? Ship engines? Astrogation mapping? You threw out the first thing that came to mind:

“Uh…that the, um…plasma conduits need recalibrating because of…residual ion…build-up?”

There was a beat of silence.

And then, before you could stop yourself, your mouth blurted the thought you’d actually been having:

“It’s really hot in here….I am hot…I mean you are! I-what?” I slam my hand over my mouth and blush in embarassment.

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric.

Tech blinked slowly behind his goggles. His mouth opened slightly — not in offense, but pure surprise, like he’d just been slapped with a datapad.

You immediately started explaining yourself. “Oh stars, I didn’t mean— I mean, I did! You are pretty! I just—”

Tech’s lips quirked into a very, very small smile — one that was devastating in its subtlety.

“Pretty?” he echoed, voice dipping lower.

I just look at him, blushing in embarassment.

He set down the datapad he was holding with a thunk on the table, rising from his seat with that precise, controlled grace of his. You swallowed hard as he closed the distance between you in two slow steps.

“You find me aesthetically pleasing,” he said, more statement than question. His gloved fingers tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his.

“Maybe-“ you said, but Tech stopped you mid sentence.

“Do you?” He smirks.

You barely managed a breathless “Yes,” before Tech leaned down and kissed you — precise at first, like he was gathering data, then rougher when you whimpered against his mouth.

And Maker, Tech was good at this.

It shouldn’t have surprised you. He excelled at everything he put his mind to — fighting, flying, fixing. Why not kissing too?

But it still left you breathless, overwhelmed, clutching at the front of his armor as he pressed you back against the wall, mouth devouring yours like you were a problem he was desperate to solve.

You gasped as he trailed kisses down your jaw, slow and calculated, his hands sliding to your waist, thumbs pressing bruising circles into your hips.

His mouth brushed over your skin like a question. Testing. Studying.

You shivered, clutching at the collar of his armor as he kissed a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, your neck, the delicate spot beneath your ear.

“You are remarkably receptive to tactile stimulation,” Tech muttered against your skin, voice husky, curious.

You let out a breathy laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. “Is that…your way of saying you like kissing me?”

“I adore kissing you,” he corrected, very seriously, before sealing his mouth over your neck and sucking.

Your knees buckled. Tech caught you instantly — one arm looping securely around your waist as he pressed you tighter against the wall. His hands, so steady when fixing blasters and slicing into systems, trembled just slightly now where they gripped you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you — really look at you — eyes sharp behind the goggles, lips flushed and swollen.

“I hypothesize,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “that I could spend hours…experimenting on what precise touches elicit the strongest responses.”

You whimpered at the idea, and he smirked — tiny, smug, dangerous.

“Would you permit me to test that theory, Mesh’la?”

“Please,” you gasped.

That was all he needed.

Tech kissed you again — harder now, hungrier. His gloves slid under the hem of your shirt, fingers splaying over your skin, mapping every curve like you were his own private star chart. His touch was firm but reverent, like he couldn’t decide whether to worship you or completely devour you.

Your hands fumbled with the clasps of his armor, desperate to feel more of him. He helped, stripping away the layers with quick, efficient motions — like dismantling a weapon — until you could finally run your hands over the firm lines of his body.

Lean, strong, carved from years of discipline and action. You couldn’t help the awe in your voice:

“You’re so.” You moan.

He paused, eyes flickering with something hotter than affection — something closer to pure need.

“Your appreciation is…” He sucked in a sharp breath as your hands roamed his torso, your nails scraping lightly down his sides. “…stimulating.”

You smiled wickedly, dragging your nails a little harder — earning a low, raw sound from him that made your stomach twist with desire.

“Stimulating, huh?” you teased, emboldened.

“In ways I am…having difficulty quantifying,” he admitted, and before you could laugh, he lifted you — effortlessly — pressing you back against the wall again, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

His mouth was everywhere: jaw, collarbone, the tops of your breasts, moving lower, lower. Every kiss was methodical, but getting messier, hungrier, as he lost more and more of that perfect control.

Your heart nearly burst at the sound of it — the claim in his voice.

And then he showed you exactly how serious he was.

He dragged you to the floor in a flurry of kisses and clumsy urgency — Tech, clumsy — his need finally outweighing his precision. He kissed you like a man starved, hands everywhere at once, leaving no inch of you unexplored.

Every touch, every kiss, every desperate grind of his hips against yours — it all felt like a star going supernova inside you.

Tech’s kisses trailed from your collarbone down to the delicate swell of your waist, each one calculated and tender yet bursting with an intensity he could hardly contain. His gloved fingertips charted the intricate topography of your skin—a practiced survey that was both clinical and deeply admiring. Every soft murmur and heated whisper was an exploration, a hypothesis he was determined to test.

“Your are absolutely… fascinating,” he breathed, voice low and breathless, as his lips followed the gentle curve of your shoulder. The measured cadence of his language contrasted perfectly with the desperate hunger behind his eyes.

You arched into his ministrations, breathing in his musky scent as his hands roamed with both curiosity and unbridled need.

Without further ado, he began a systematic exploration—each kiss, each caress, every calculated movement sending data straight to the core of your desire. His mouth became a relentless interrogator of your senses, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and unexpected, fervent bursts of passion that drew soft, continuous moans from your lips.

“You said it’s hot in here?” he asks simply. When you nod, he smirks. “Shall we take some…layers off then?”

A few seconds later, the clothes were already on the ground. His steady hands and clear, determined focus left little to chance. He studied your reactions, adjusting his touches with the care of a meticulous scientist and the passion of a lover who had discovered something new with each sensation.

He lays you down, but doesn’t stop kissing you. He climbs on the top of you, and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

He goes lower, and he trails his fingers along your inner thighs, his touch feather light and teasing. Slowly and gently, he spreads your legs wider, exposing your private part. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, making your jump slightly. His tongue replaces his lips, licking a slow, deliberate path from your entrance to your clit. He circles the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell under his touch. He sucks it into his mouth, his fingers spreading your legs wider, to give him better acces. He curls two fingers inside you, finding that spot that makes you whimper and buck your hips. He hooks his fingers upwards, massaging that spot rhythmically as he sucks hard on your swollen bud. He can feel you tensing, your inner walls fluttering around his fingers. He adds a third finger, stretching you further as he continues his relentless assault on your clit. He can feel your orgasm building, your body trembling and your breaths coming in short gasps. He suddently pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his tongue, pushing it deep inside you. You moan up at the sudden action. Feeling your impending orgasm, he doubles his efforts. His fingers replace his tongue, plunging deep and curling upwards to hit that irresistible spot. Simultaneously, his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking with intense preassure while flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly over the sensitive bud. You are so oversimulated, you had no clue he is…good in this…like really good.

He feels your body convulsing with pleasure, and he knows your still riding the waves of your orgasm. He slowly pulls his fingers out, giving your clit one last gentle suck before lifting his head.

Your legs fall limply off his shoulders as you try to catch your breath. He watches your body, seeing your breasts rise and fall rapidly with your shallow breaths.

He kisses you, softly, deeply, knowing you might need a moment. He pulls back slightly, checking your face for any sight of discomfort. Finding none, he smiles softly and whispers “Okay?”. You nod, biting your lip shyly.

His hands trail down your sides, making you shiver. He positions himself between your legs again. “You sure you’re ready?” He asks in a soft voice.

As you nod, he slowly pushes the head of his cock inside you. He watches your face intently, making sure you’re okay. He sees no sign of discomfort on your face, only a look of pleasure. He pushes in further, his thick lenght filling you up completely. He pauses, letting you adjust his size. He leans down to kiss you deeply as he begins to move his hips slowly.

He starts with slow, deliberate thrusts, allowing you to feel every inch of him sliding in and out. His eyes darken with desire as he hears your moans. He grips your hips tightly and starts thrusting harder. He leans over you, his muscular body caging you as he drives into you with increasing force.

His pelvis grinds against your clit with each thrust, the pleasure almost overwhelming. He adjusts his angle, hitting the deepest part of you that makes you see stars. You scream from pleasure, and he kisses you. His movements become more erratic as he feels his own release approaching. He buries his face in your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. With a final, powerful thrust, he comes, his seed filling you up.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, and pulls out of you.

You laid there together, the air thick with the sweet aftershocks of what you had shared. Tech’s arm was wrapped securely around you, his body pressed close, as if anchoring you to reality after the dizzying heights you had just reached.

He didn’t say much at first—he just held you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow, almost methodical patterns along the bare curve of your spine. His other hand lightly cradled the back of your head, ensuring you stayed tucked perfectly against his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a grounding rhythm that made your own breathing start to slow.

“You’re trembling,” Tech observed, his voice still low and gentle, a subtle roughness lingering from before. He tilted his head down to peer at you through his goggles—still perfectly in place, though his hair was deliciously disheveled. His hand smoothed along your back, almost as if he was trying to catalog every inch of you through careful touch.

“I’m not cold,” you whispered, a little shy, cheeks burning.

“I know,” Tech said simply, drawing a blanket up over both of you in one efficient movement anyway. “It’s a physiological response. Normal after heightened physical exertion and emotional connection.”

Despite the clinical explanation, the way he spoke was soft. He wasn’t analyzing you to create distance—he was doing it because it was how he cared.

You smiled tiredly, reaching up to push a strand of hair off his forehead. “You’re really good…You know that?” you mumbled, still a little dazed.

Tech blinked at you behind his goggles, his brows lifting ever so slightly, but them he smiles. His thumb brushed your cheekbone tenderly, voice going even softer, almost reverent. “I must admit, hearing it from you induces a rather… pleasant feeling.”

He kissed your forehead—a precise, almost formal gesture, but when his lips lingered, you could feel how much he meant it.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked after a moment, scanning you with sharp, concerned eyes. His fingers moved carefully now, checking along your sides, your thighs, your arms. His touch was featherlight but thorough. “I… may have been less restrained than I intended.”

“No,” you reassured quickly, turning your head to kiss his wrist where it hovered. “I feel perfect. Better than perfect.”

Tech gave a soft hum at that—a sound you didn’t hear often, but one that made your chest bloom with warmth. He shifted so he could lay you more securely against him, almost wrapping himself around you like a shield. One hand slipped into your hair, massaging your scalp with the same careful precision he used for everything.

“Good,” he murmured, seeming almost relieved. He paused, then added with a rare, earnest gentleness, “You are… extremely important to me. I trust you understand that.”

Your heart squeezed painfully sweet at the words. You tilted your head back to look at him. “I know, Tech,” you whispered. “I feel the same. More than same.”

He smiled—small, rare, and absolutely real. He leaned down to kiss you again, not urgent now, just lingering, slow, cherishing you. His fingers threaded with yours between your bodies, holding you together as if he’d never let go.

Under the covers, warm and wrapped up with him, you realized that with Tech, aftercare wasn’t just about checking if you were alright. It was about making sure you knew you were treasured.

And he made sure you knew—with every slow stroke of his fingers through your hair, every soft kiss to your temple, and every whispered word breathed against your skin.

You’re loved.

You weren’t sure how much time passed with you tucked against Tech’s chest, listening to his breathing, his heart beating steady and sure. His fingers never stopped moving—stroking your hair, tracing the shape of your shoulder, drawing mindless patterns on your back as if memorizing the feeling of you beneath his touch.

Little by little, the adrenaline ebbed away, replaced by a warm, heavy drowsiness that clung to both of you.

Tech shifted a little, tilting his head so he could look down at you properly. His goggles reflected the low light, but you could feel his eyes studying you—the gentle, careful way he always did when something mattered to him.

You are fatigued,” he said softly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint, tender smile.

“Mhm,” you hummed sleepily, nuzzling closer into the crook of his neck. His scent—clean, warm, just a hint of engine grease and soap—filled your senses, and you never wanted to move again.

Without another word, Tech adjusted the blanket more securely over both of you. His arms wrapped tighter around you, careful not to crush you but firm enough that you felt utterly safe. He shifted again, pulling you closer against his side, until your bodies fit together like two halves of a puzzle.

You felt his hand tangle lightly in your hair, fingers rubbing slow, soothing circles against your scalp. It was such a simple thing—but it sent waves of comfort through your body, relaxing muscles you hadn’t even realized were tense.

You mumbled something incoherent against his skin. You didn’t even know what you were trying to say—but Tech gave a small chuckle, low and rare and so full of affection it made your heart ache.

“You do not have to speak,” he said gently, almost amused. “Sleep, cyar’ika.”

You shifted enough to kiss the crook of his neck—soft, lingering—then let your eyes finally flutter shut. Tech kept stroking your hair, his breathing deep and steady beneath your ear, anchoring you.

Just before sleep claimed you completely, you heard him murmur, voice almost inaudible, but thick with something deeper than words:

“I will always be here.”

Safe in his arms, wrapped in warmth, love, and the soft, steady presence that was Tech, you finally drifted into sleep.

And for the first time in a long while, you dreamed of nothing but peace.

[shadowmaat]

Jedi Service Corps

The Legends-fueled propaganda of "bad students get sent to the Agricorp/Services" has always bothered me. First of all, forcing kids into a career not of their choosing isn't the best way to encourage them to perform well.

The Services in general seem to get a bad rap, and TBH it's kind of bizarre to assume that every kid who winds up being taken in by the Jedi wants to grow up to be a cop. LOL!

There is so much untapped potential being ignored, and even within the four pseudo-canon branches there's a lot to explore.

Agriculture. Farmers Without Borders. LOL! It isn't just about growing plants, it's about analyzing trends, understanding ecosystems, geology, climatology, politics, etc. There's mechanical engineering so you know how to fix the machines that do the hardest labor (often illegally, given corporate software locks and so forth). Probably a lot of fiddly stuff with plant genetics, too, given similar issues with seed corporations.

Being Jedi, I'm sure they're also aware of the need to include "ornamental" plants to help with the emotional welfare of hurting/devastated populations.

Education. This field must be fucking wild. Sure, you have your future creche masters and archivists, but I imagine there are those who do public outreach, too, and go to schools to teach kids about what the Jedi do beyond waving laser swords. There's probably also a need for teachers in isolated/rural areas to help with basic things like reading, writing, and maths. Ditto areas devastated by wars and natural disasters, where kids need a safe distraction from trauma. I bet Educorp and Agricorp team up more often than people might think.

There's also the sheer variety of topics. Even something basic like history will have a wide net. Galactic history, region-specific, planetary, etc. And then there's the arts. Music, singing, dance, physical media, holo media, theatre, and so much more. There will be differences between species, understanding what they need to know, how they learn best, and what their aging process is like. Teachers to cover the full range of mortal maturity, from teaching toddlers to old-timers. And don't get me started on teaching "forbidden" topics in repressive communities.

Medical. LOL. Every. Single. Species. And often subtypes between them. So many specialists needed. And again, you probably have a number that specialize in helping in disaster areas. Hello, Educorp, let's help teach these people how to best care for themselves. Maybe Agricorp can help with showing folks how to purify their air and water. There must be SO many diseases, some of which have inoculations and so that don't. And again, figuring ways to smuggle medicine and supplies to those who need it despite the extortionist rates corporations charge. Repairing faulty equipment, finding work-arounds when the parts aren't there. Triage. Using the Force to help heal is all well and good, but sometimes they still have to get hands-on.

Even with non-emergency stuff, I imagine they're still kept busy. The idea of a Jedi "country doctor" settled in some remote area sounds delightful. Communities that get "lost" in the shuffle or otherwise overlooked. Veterinary medicine as a sub-specialty.

Jedi having a special "knack" for determining what's wrong with someone, finding early warning signs before it's too late, etc. Comforting the dying. Comforting the survivors. ALL the mental health stuff and neurodivergence.

Exploration. Jedi Starfleet. LOL! It isn't all about discovering new worlds, though. Sometimes it's rediscovering planets and cultures that have been forgotten. Charting new hyperlane routes and hoping the end doesn't pop you out in the middle of a star.

I betcha you could fold so many things into this one. Botany. Archaeology. Xenoanthropology. Medicine, of course, since new worlds/people means new poisons, venoms, and diseases. New or ancient languages? It'd help to have someone around who could work on translating. Diplomats to help you talk to people. Geologists. Zoologists. A bit of everything.

Sure, there'd be room for solo missions, but I imagine there'd be bigger ships that they'd launch from. A place to come back to so the brains can pore over everything you brought back and see what they can determine from it. And big ships (or any ships really) means pilots, engineers, general crew, logistics, and all those fun things.

Anyway, I can see plenty of room for additional corps, too, but of the ones that get mentioned in Legends there's still a huge playing field.

[padawan-snack-packer]

[Snackpacker Rambles part 1???]

Last night I dreamed that I FINALLY realized one of my deepest weirdest dreams and PUBLISHED A STAR WARS COOKBOOK and honestly I woke up devastated it wasn’t real. Like. Fully.

I was standing in the middle of some Coruscant senator lounge cafeteria thing with marble floors and huge windows and there were clones EVERYWHERE and some senators sitting around being like “oh? breakfast samples?” and I was just casually doing a COOKING DEMO in front of them like this was the Galactic Bake Off.

I had these little datapads on stands with the names of each dish and their planetary origin (half of them were made up but it sounded legit) and I was like “here we have a traditional Mandalorian breakfast sandwich, spicy rycrit sausage with uj’alayi drizzle on fried flatbread—next to that is a delicate Naboo garden salad with nerf-milk dressing” and people were NODDING like it was a TED Talk???

Clones were LINING UP for caf and sweetbread and one of them deadass said “You made this?” and I said “Yeah!” and he looked SO IMPRESSED I almost cried. Rex was there. Rex was eating a little fruit parfait and asking questions about the protein content like it was a mission briefing.

At one point in the dream I straight-up gave a stern talking-to to some high-ranking GAR logistics officers like I was a dietitian with a vengeance—I had a pointer and everything. I was like “Listen, these clones are expected to do 15-hour missions and you’re feeding them gray nutrient bricks and sad toast? Where are the electrolytes, where are the whole grains, do you even hydrate your troopers?” and Cody was nodding solemnly behind me like I was delivering a war speech. I literally yelled “THEIR BREAKFASTS ARE A WAR CRIME” in the middle of the cafeteria and then offered samples of my spiced nuna egg wraps with meiloorun salsa as evidence.

I love cooking SO much it’s kind of stupid. I already give recipes to my friends all the time. I have like fifteen Star Wars themed recipes in my notebook already and they’re SO real. Like I’m talking “Togrutan Sunfruit Smoothie,” “Chandrila Garden Toast,” “Corellian Caf Shake,” “Spicy Fried Nuna with Yobacca Slaw” real. One time I wrote a whole entry for “Jogan Pie with Candied Fennel” and my friend actually made it and said it tasted like “dessert and rebellion.”

ANYWAY in the dream I was doing drink pairings like “This Alderaanian herb tea brings out the notes in the roasted meiloorun” and Bail Organa was like “Fascinating” and I’m not saying he bought five copies of the cookbook but he did say he was giving one to Breha and I think that counts as galactic recognition to me.

Why is this not my real life. Why am I not touring the galaxy promoting "Star Wars: From Scratch to Starcruiser – A Fandom Cookbook" with my little apron that says “Sith Happens” and a spatula shaped like a lightsaber?????? WHY??????

Dream big I guess???

[thunderheadfred]

In the last few weeks of rulings, SCOTUS has begun to dismantle the administrative state, legalize bribery, and devastate the government’s ability to regulate corporations. Today, the conservative supermajority - two of whom should have recused themselves for obvious conflicts of interest - have ruled that a president has absolute immunity for “official acts” in office, which Trump’s team argued before the court could include assassinating political rivals and introducing fake slates of electors. Trump will likely not go to trial before the election in any of the major cases against him, not for leading an insurrection, not for rigging the election in Georgia, and not for espionage.

If he is elected he will dismiss all charges, pardon and release insurrectionists, and immediately replace everyone in Washington with sycophantic loyalists. The people who barely stopped him from launching nuclear missiles whenever he felt like it will not be around to stop him on a second go around.

Trump openly wants military tribunals and death sentences for his political opponents. He wants concentration camps for immigrants. His jet was just spotted parked next to Putin’s on an isolated portion of tarmac at Dulle’s airport for two days. He has stolen nuclear secrets and sold war plans to foreign nations. He has offered one billion dollars to oil companies and promised to overturn every measly environmental protection we have standing between us and planetary collapse. He is part of a vast existential threat to democracy worldwide, and that is not a conspiracy. It’s all right there.

I don’t care if Biden dies tomorrow and his corpse is hauled around Weekend at Bernie’s style by his cabinet. He’s still the better choice. Not voting is a vote for Trump. A vote for RFK is a vote for Trump.

We live in unbelievable times. Vote accordingly.

[white-hole-station]

Thing about EotE that makes me need to go lie down:

The Owlks arrived before the Nomai, and the Nomai arrived a six digit number of years ago compared to the canon present.

The Owlks arrived tens of thousands of years before the sun would explode, and the Eye showed them their doom, and they were so despairing and afraid that they decided whatever time they had left before it was no longer worth living.

If they hadn't been so thoroughly devastated, if they had found it within themselves to stay on the Stranger outside of the dream world and see what a future could still look like, their species would have had more time left than the entire evolutionary history of the sentient Hearthians. They would have invented new instruments, and lived long enough to entirely forget when and how they were invented. They would themselves have evolved, gaining adaptations better suited to living on the Stranger than on their home planet. The Stranger would have been added to and improved - they could have cycled between different planetary systems harvesting more materials if they needed to, and their technology would have progressed to make it faster and more efficient. They would have had generations left to live full lives, generations left to be born and taught more and more gently about what is to come, and come to terms with it. They could have had such a beautiful culture still, one of music and art and acceptance of the value of life and beauty even if it has to be temporary. Maybe they could have even recognized the Eye as an artist like themselves, waiting to make them into something new, and it could have been their object of worship and comfort again.

I don't blame them for what they did, especially given the raw horror of having gutted their home planet to seek this thing that told them it would destroy them. I understand it, but it is such a deeper tragedy than it ever was before to me, after realizing just how much time they had left to live.

[specialagentartemis]

Hi! Do you have a favourite sapphic podcast? I particularly like sci-fi, do you have any good sci-fi recs?

THE PASITHEA POWDER!!!! Hands down my favorite sapphic sci-fi podcast. One of my favorite podcasts Period.

The Pasithea Powder @pasitheapowder follows the two messiest bisexual women in the galaxy: Captain Sophie Green, a war hero, and Dr. Jane Gonzalez, a war criminal. They used to be best friends. They aren’t anymore, not after the space war. Jane’s research led to the end of the war, at terrible cost… but Sophie sees a new war brewing on the horizon, and secrets that the planetary government does not want getting out, and Jane and Sophie are the only ones who seem to care. Slowburn romance, inter-planetary politics, devastating war trauma, surprise aliens, a third dead character in their broken trio haunting the narrative more than I’ve ever seen anyone else do… it’s really good. Three seasons, completed.

My other favorite sapphic podcast which I love and is brilliant is Arden @ardenpodcast. Not sci-fi (has a couple sci-fi elements played for laughs, but it’s mostly realistically grounded). Arden is a fictional true crime podcast—Bea, a journalist, and Brenda, a disgraced former police detective, host a podcast investigating the cold case disappearance of a rising Hollywood starlet. They get in over their heads. It’s mostly a comedy—and it’s VERY funny. But it’s also a murder mystery, and a criticism of true crime sensationalism. But also, it’s really clever and funny. Two seasons, with a third one in production.

Another popular one I enjoy but have some critiques of is The Strange Case of Starship Iris. It’s a very heartfelt sapphic space opera about rebellion against the oppressive space government (and I love Ishani Kanetkar in anything.) Two seasons, with the third and final one in production.

[vii-sparks]

"so, vii, what are all the to-be combiner teams doing in your au?"

asked no one yet but i am posting about it anyway because i got carried away writing about them <3

infodump incoming ⬇

—

STUNTICONS

COMMANDER: Motormaster of Tarn SECOND: Dead End of Uraya FUNCTION: Vanguard  STATUS: MIA LOCATION: ??? [1]

Personal annotations by Decepticon Third-in-command Soundwave of Polyhex, Earth Year 202X (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX)

Stunticons: formed with Motormaster of Tarn as its core member. First deployment: standard stellar cycle XXXX, shortly after the Decepticon annexation of Tarn. 

Membership: Motormaster of Tarn, Dead End of Uraya, Drag Strip (Velocitron), Wildrider of Iacon, Breakdown of Kaon. Medic: Knock Out (Velocitron) ← No longer associated with the Stunticons, currently stationed on Cybertron until further notice. 

EDIT (Earth Year 202X): Knock Out is currently on Earth.

[1] Last known location: Eridani star system. No communications since the Nemesis’s crash on Earth. Recent attempts at making contact: unsuccessful. Assumed MIA until further information can be obtained.

CONSTRUCTICONS 

COMMANDER: Scrapper of Kaon SECOND: Hook of Kaon  FUNCTION: Repair & Maintenance STATUS: Active LOCATION: Earth - The Nemesis [1]

Personal annotations by Decepticon Third-in-command Soundwave of Polyhex, Earth Year 202X (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX)

Constructicons: formerly the made-to-order Constructibots. Swore allegiance to Megatron of Kaon shortly before the Decepticon Revolution. Their individual medical and demolition services were employed throughout the Decepticon Interstate up until the planetary evacuation.

Membership: Scrapper of Kaon, Hook of Kaon, Bonecrusher of Kaon, Long Haul of Kaon, Mixmaster of Kaon, Scavenger of Kaon.

[1] Constructicons: consistent members of the Nemesis crew since launch. Hook: currently Chief Medical Officer aboard the seabed-bound Nemesis. Observation: Despite the complications with rank, Constructicon interpersonal dynamics have not been significantly affected. Significantly few Nemesis crew members → reduced medbay workload. 

EDIT (Earth Year 202X): Constructicons → now capable of combining into a giant mechanism that refers to himself as “Devastator.” Devastator: powerful, like the Autobots’ Defensor, but not exceptionally intelligent. Further research and understanding required.

COMBATICONS

COMMANDER: Vortex of Tarn SECOND: Blast Off of Vos FUNCTION: Elite Combat Unit [1] STATUS: MIA [2] LOCATION: ???

Personal annotations by Decepticon Third-in-command Soundwave of Polyhex, Earth Year 202X (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX)

Combaticons: personally selected by Starscream in anticipation for Operation Tenebrae (Praxus), standard stellar cycle XXXX. First deployment: standard stellar cycle XXXX, shortly after Air Force Lieutenant Skywarp’s first aerial bombardment of the Praxus Strip. 

Membership: Vortex of Tarn, Blast Off of Vos, Brawl of Uraya, Swindle of Kaon. Medic: Flatline of Vos. 

Note: Incident A-XXX.XXXX at the Battle of Asteroides Point (Altihex) saw Vortex, Brawl, Swindle, and Blast Off briefly sent to Science Lead Shockwave for “behavioral adjustment.”

Note: They are a particular source of gossip within the Decepticon army even at present, and there are common nicknames for each of them that are still in use. Vortex: “The Sweeper.” Blast Off: “The Ferrymech.” Swindle: “The Collector.” Brawl: “The Annihilator.”

[1] Combaticons: act outside of the standard chain of command and usually take on their own assignments. When called on, they answer only to Decepticon Second-in-command Starscream or Decepticon leader Megatron. 

[2] Left Cybertron, accompanying the Nemesis, aboard specialized starship the Vae Victis. Last known location: Mu Arae star system. Similarly to the Stunticons, there has been no communication within the last standard vorn besides a corrupted transmission. Assumed MIA until further information can be obtained.

COMBATICONS (Revised - Earth Year 202X)

COMMANDER: Onslaught of [Fugue Valley] SECOND: Blast Off of Vos FUNCTION: Elite Combat Unit STATUS: Active LOCATION: Earth - The Nemesis

Personal annotations by Acting Decepticon Third-in-command Onslaught of [Fugue Valley], Earth Year 202X (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX). Note: As Soundwave no longer aligns himself with Megatron, I have taken the liberty of adding the following information in light of recent changes.

After their belated arrival on Earth via stolen starship of unknown name and origin, leadership of the Combaticons has been transferred to myself (Acting Third-in-command Onslaught). 

Membership: Onslaught of [Fugue Valley], Vortex of Tarn, Blast Off of Vos, Brawl of Uraya, Swindle of Kaon. Medic Flatline of Vos is currently in custody of the Decepticon Justice Division, whose exact location is unknown but confirmed active.

After the successful retrieval of the Enigma of Combination from Autobot possession, the Combaticons are now capable of uniting as the combiner “Bruticus.” Refer to Shockwave’s Key Program notes, subsection “Combiners” added by former Second-in-command Starscream and current Acting Second-in-command Thundercracker. 

—

AERIALBOTS

COMMANDER: Silverbolt of Vos SECOND: Skydive of Vos FUNCTION: Aerial Assault & Transport STATUS: KIA (BNR) [1] LOCATION: ???

Personal annotations by Autobot Security Operations Lead Prowl of Polyhex, Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX

The Aerialbots were formed to counter the Decepticons’ air superiority in standard stellar cycle XXXX. Silverbolt, as an alumnus of the Vosian Armament Complex’s elite military college and the former ‘pride of Vos,’ was chosen to lead due to his unmatched flying prowess. 

Their ranks consist(ed) of Silverbolt of Vos, Skydive of Vos, Slingshot of Praxus, Fireflight of Vos, and Air Raid of Tarn.

[1] The Aerialbots were recently shot down over the Battle of Ira Desert (Hydrus-2) while the rest of our forces were caught off guard by the appearance of the Decepticon Justice Division. In our haste to retreat, we had to leave their bodies behind. Retrieval may be possible at a later date.

EDIT (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX): Bodies not found. A memorial service is not possible at this time.

PROTECTOBOTS

COMMANDER: Hot Spot of Tarn SECOND: Streetwise of Praxus FUNCTION: Emergency Response & Relations STATUS: Active LOCATION: Earth - The Ark / Protectobot HQ [1]

Personal annotations by Autobot Second-in-command Prowl of Polyhex, Earth Year 202X (Standard Cybertronian Stellar Cycle XXXXX)

The five now-Protectobots each volunteered to escort the Enigma of Combination to Earth in the local year 202X. They were then officially made a squad by Autobot leader Optimus Prime’s (arbitrary) will, with Hot Spot—as the sole member with significant leadership experience—chosen to lead them. Hot Spot thus selected Streetwise, my former Security Operations second-in-command, as his lieutenant.

Their ranks consist of Hot Spot of Tarn, Streetwise of Praxus, Groove of Kalis, Blades of Vos, and First Aid of Tarn. 

Note: Shortly after their arrival, Hot Spot saved a human (refer to “Noah [Noa] Suzuki”) from falling at risk to his own life in the middle of a battle (refer to Incident 06.XX-202X). Despite my repeated warnings against involving one of the planetary natives’ youth with our internal affairs, as one human teenager (refer to “Matthew [Matt] Zhou”) is more than enough, the Protectobots have since formed a close friendship with her. 

Upon their arrival, an interception by Decepticons (refer to Incident 06.XX.202X-A) prompted Hot Spot to use the Enigma of Combination. Consequently, the Protectobots now have the ability to form a combined mechanism known as “Defensor.” Despite the Protectobots all being overdue for psychological evaluations, Defensor is a remarkably docile and obedient soldier, even when struggling with internal conflict. Refer to Autobot Weapons & Engineering Leads Wheeljack and Perceptor’s Defensor Findings notes for further details. 

[1] As a show of goodwill between our forces and local human authorities, a building serving as the headquarters for the Protectobots was built recently in a joint Cybertronian-Terran construction project. 

[venusianbarbiedoll]

✦ 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐌𝐂𝐔 & 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

Cosmic Manipulation

I can create, shape, absorb, and manipulate cosmic forces and energies, granting me dominion over the fabric of the unverse. I can generate and control cosmic energy, allowing me to unleash devastating blasts, construct impenetrable force fields, and enhance my own physical and mental capabilities beyond mortal limits.

I can move objects with my mind, from manipulating atomic particles to effortlessly shifting celestial bodies and warping space itself. I can crush stars, shape planetary landscapes, or construct vast structures out of cosmic energy with pure willpower. My control is not limited to physical objects; I can extend my influence over energy itself, weaving light, gravity, and plasma into new forms.

At the highest levels, I am a force of both creation and destruction, capable of shaping the fate of entire galaxies, rewriting the nature of reality, and bending the very laws of the cosmos to my will. My existence transcends mortal understanding, embodying the infinite potential of the universe itself.

Chaos Magic

I can utilize chaos-related magic; a rare but incredibly powerful type of magic that taps into and utilizes the chaotic forces of the universe, granting me a chaotic form of magic that can utilize and reconstruct the probabilities as well as the very fabric of existence that is interconnected to reality, bestowing magical powers and mastery of spells that are capable of warping the actualities of reality.

Energy Manipulation

I can control and transform the fundamental force that causes change and does work in various forms. I can freely create, shape, and manipulate energy. I possess complete control over energy, the capacity or ability to cause change or do work, one of the most basic quantitative properties of a system, such as an object or a field of energy.

Enhanced Senses

I have extremely accurate senses, allowing me to see, hear, smell, taste, and feel better than the best member of his species. On this level, it allows me to perceive small objects, hear distant sounds at different frequencies, detect specific people, objects, substances, or places, locate their origin, and track targets by smelling.

I can also automatically detect harmful and beneficial things by tasting and sense vibrations through solids, liquids, and air-pressure. I am also highly resistant to illusion (depending on the level or scale) and can process information at such speeds that time appears to have slowed down, allowing me to perceive what would otherwise be too quick to see/hear and respond appropriately.

Force Fields

I can create a field formed from energy, elements, the environment, or by manipulating smaller items to form a greater whole. I’m capable of blocking or impeding approaching objects and nullifying attacks, including physical and energy-based attacks or even repelling or reflecting them, as well being used as a means of containment to imprison others.

Telekinetic Force Manipulation

I can manipulate an extraordinarily potent and immense variation of telekinesis, capable of enacting destruction and creation on a grand scale. This formidable power primarily interacts with objects and entities visible to the naked eye, excluding the microscopic realm of atoms, molecules, and subatomic particles. Unlike its nuanced counterpart, telekinesis, telekinetic force focuses on pure, unrestrained strength rather than precision and fine manipulation.

More straightforward telekinetic applications are within my capabilities, such as lifting, moving, or rearranging objects. However, this power shines in situations demanding pure strength and magnitude. I can compress heavily armored vehicles into miniature spheres or shred them apart, manipulate enormous structures like buildings, skyscrapers, or even mountains and continents, and project devastating telekinetic blasts capable of annihilating entire armies.

Illusion

I can manipulate illusions and hallucinations, allowing me to alter the perceptions of others and create entirely fabricated experiences. Illusions are false interpretations of existing stimuli, such as making a small object appear larger or masking a real location by disguising it.

Hallucinations, on the other hand, involve creating sensory experiences without any basis in reality, such as making someone see a nonexistent creature, hear imaginary voices, or feel phantom sensations. This power enables me to distort the way targets see, hear, touch, smell, or taste, leading to a variety of deceptive and strategic effects.

Flight

I possess the ability to fly in a gaseous atmosphere or vacuum can do so through various means. In addition to flight, I have the capability to glide, levitate, or slide through space without external assistance. I can achieve high speeds and maneuver freely while in flight.

Regenerative Healing Factor

I can automatically, rapidly, and flawlessly heal and regenerate from any physical, spiritual, and mental damage, attacks, harm, assault, and injuries I take and get restored to my optimal and full health/state at an extremely fast rate.

I can recreate lost or damaged tissues, organs, and limbs, sometimes slowing, or even stop aging, something natural regeneration can never accomplish (or do so extremely slowly).

Amokinesis

I can sense and manipulate all the aspects of love, of myself, people, animals and other creatures, whether by increasing, decreasing, causing or otherwise channeling love, even manifesting the emotional energy to a physical level. Love includes a variety of different feelings, states, and attitudes that ranges from interpersonal affection ("I love my mother") to pleasure ("I loved that meal") to an emotion of a strong attraction and personal attachment. It can also include basic kindness, compassion, and affection.

Biokinesis

I can manipulate every biological structure and function, enabling me to shape and mold the living world to their will, from the smallest microscopic organisms to the most complex sentient beings. It is not limited to merely influencing biology but rewriting it entirely, making the impossible a reality.

With this ability, I can alter genetic structures at will, allowing for instant evolution, the eradication of genetic disorders, or the creation of new species altogether. I can enhance my own biology, optimizing every system for peak efficiency, enabling boundless strength, heightened intelligence, and perfect adaptability to any environment. I can heal any wound, regenerate lost limbs, and even halt the aging process indefinitely, achieving practical immortality. Diseases, viruses, and infections are mere playthings in the hands of a true master, capable of eliminating them entirely or weaponizing them against foes.

Beyond my own form, I can exert my influence on others, modifying their physiology, enhancing or suppressing abilities, or inducing biological states such as sleep, paralysis, or hyperactivity. I can control cellular processes, forcing regeneration, accelerating metabolism, or even commanding the body’s very functions to shut down or go into overdrive. This extends to the manipulation of organs, allowing for the creation of additional biological structures or even the rearrangement of an entire body’s anatomy. Furthermore, this ability allows me to shape my own or another’s appearance at will, altering features, height, physique, or even entirely reconstructing their identity on a biological level.

[ross-hollander]

gundam story thats about a federation submarine. its a boondoggle.

like, there was a lot of corruption and there was this halfhearted idea that like, they should make a futureproofed submarine? like ten got built and most were destroyed during the capture operation or in dock and blown up to avoid capture

but one of them escaped.

it is the best attack sub built by human hands. it is functionally silent, and technical fault prone it might be, war is whipping its crew into shape.

You know, you might think, okay- it's one sub, and who needs the sea in a space war anyways? But give it some time, some Bright Slaps, some stolen Zeon weaponry from an enemy sub sent to hunt them down, and you're staring down a one-sub planetary goalkeeper that could be hiding anywhere on a pale blue dot, with enough munitions aboard to devastate any landing within a hundred miles of a coastline. Deep beneath the surface, the tides of war are changing...

[transdimensional-void]

Interesting parallels between Dany, Jon and Paul. I have seen some posts about how Paul and Dany being the 'white saviours' in their arc. What do you think?

glad you found my answer to this question interesting!

i actually highly recommend this princess weekes youtube video titled "Why Sci-fi & Fantasy Can't Fix Its White Savior Problem." she delves into the entire topic of white saviors in speculative fiction while discussing how paul and dany both fit into the trope.

as she discusses in the video (and clarifies further in a comment below it), paul atreides was always meant to be a deconstruction of the archetypical hero. (if you want to delve even more deeply into paul as "hero" i suggest this video by Jess of the Shire). in fact, it's quite clearly stated within the text of dune itself that paul being a "hero" is a bad thing for the fremen. as he lies dying, the planetary ecologist liet-kynes, who has dedicated his life to helping the fremen terraform their planet, hallucinates a conversation with his father in which his father warns him:

"No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a Hero," his father said. Reading my mind! Kynes thought. Well...let him.

and over the course of the series, this warning is borne out. in the wake of paul's ascension to the throne, the fremen way of life utterly disappears. their planet, now the capital of the empire, no longer belongs to them. the sandworms—their gods—disappear. fremen culture is eventually reduced to museum performances for tourists.

paul is even explicitly shown to be a false messiah. the prophecy that tells the fremen of their coming savior was planted by a branch of the bene gesserit called the missionaria protectiva. jessica, a bene gesserit, recognizes the signs of this when she first arrives on arrakis and later takes advantage of the groundwork her sisterhood laid to ensure that she and paul will be accepted among the fremen.

but what makes paul a tragic figure is that the moment he becomes aware of the path he is being lead down—to become this figure of prophecy, a hero, a messiah—he tries to resist it. yet he is trapped, by the deterministic prison of his own prophetic visions, by the millennia of planning and manipulations carried out by the bene gesserit which led to his birth, and by his own thirst for vengeance. also, he's only fifteen when he is asked to take on this mantle of hero-messiah-prophesied savior.

paul's failure to avert the devastating genocide that is carried out in his name is tragic...yet it doesn't make him any less responsible for his own decisions. he could have given up on vengeance, settled down among the fremen, and lived the rest of his life in obscurity—but he chose not to.

i think grrm has set dany on a similarly tragic path. she's so young, has experienced such massive loss, is the result of generations of intentional inbreeding to maintain her family's connection to magic, and when we first meet her, all she wants is a home, love, and security—things she has never had. despite all of these factors that make her a sympathetic character, though, dany is no less responsible for her own decisions than paul is for his.

her actions lead to ever increasing amounts of death and destruction. first, the lhazarene, then the people of slaver's bay, and probably, eventually, king's landing and other areas of westeros. she positions herself as a savior who is ending slavery and establishing a better, more benevolent form of government in astapor, yunkai, and meereen. yet, astapor is left in a state of utter ruin and devastation after dany's sacking of it. no one there is better off as a result of her actions. yunkai goes straight back to its slaving once she leaves, and she herself reimplements slavery in meereen as its queen. by the end of adwd, she's decided to abandon meereen like she did astapor and yunkai, so we can assume it will suffer a similar fate.

dany, like paul, is clearly meant to be a deconstruction of the white savior trope. in her own mind, she is a savior of the foreign cultures she invades and conquers (also note how similar her title "mhysa" is to "messiah"). yet the reality is that she has brought little to the people of slaver's bay other than death and destruction. and once she gets to westeros, who, exactly, will she be saving? westeros has no slavery. marching her armies and dragons in to claim the iron throne will be hard to spin as an act of benevolence rather than of conquest.

that being said...

as princess weekes points out in the video above, while the authors intended these two characters to be deconstructions of the white savior trope, the execution leaves something to be desired...because in both the case of paul and dany, there are large numbers of readers who take their claims of heroism at surface value, see them as straightforward heroes, and applaud their actions. they miss the context of them each being outsiders highjacking a foreign culture for their own ends. in some cases, the very types of people these depictions are most meant to criticize, are the exact same people who hold up these characters as their ideal...

so, are paul and dany "white saviors"? well...a lot of readers genuinely read them that way, even if that's not what the authors intended.

thanks for your question! i really enjoyed being able to discuss this topic.