One thing that frustrates me when discussing fandom misogyny and how it manifests in Dungeon Meshi is the inadvertent racism when people talk about ships Kabru is in, specifically Laois/Kabru. And there's definitely something to be said about how fandom prioritizes male characters over female characters, giving men more grace and understanding compared to the women who aren't allowed to do a single wrong or they'll be demonized. But acting like Kabru/Laois shippers only like the ship because they can smush two boys together is offensive, and also kinda racist (like that one post where someone called Kabru a yaoi boy, as if this well-written brown character is only bait for the mlm shippers). When there is soooo much stuff in canon that offers a solid foundation for a ship. Like off the top of my head--

They're narrative foils. They contrast each other in so many ways, from the slope of their noses (Kabru's is turned upwards, while Laois goes straight down) to even the shape of their noses. Both are autistic, albeit at different levels of masking, and are called creepy for their special interests.

Their interactions are just so fucking fascinating. Like, Kabru is this beautiful man whose charisma helps him make friends quickly, expects everyone to have ulterior motives, and then meets Laois who is a man so starved for companionship and for someone to enjoy his special interests, he constantly thinks "Kabru is so nice!"

So much more...I genuinely can't even list all of it. These guys make me insane.

It's important to talk about fandom misogyny, but acting like people who ship Laois/Kabru are just using these characters to fuel their desire for mediocre yaoi is really insulting. Especially when Kabru is such a well-written character with a fascinating arc, outside of shipping. Anyways, yeah, that was a brief rant. I understand the frustration Dungeon Meshi fans have with the influx of mlm ships, and in part, it's definitely fueled by subconscious misogyny causing people to prioritize male characters over the female ones. But at the same, let's avoid being racist. 😭

oh my god and its so misplaced too bc most people who ship labru also like farcille. barking up the wrong tree etc it honestly kind of discourages me from working on my big farcille comic. its why i haven't posted my farcille fanart here when i had on twitter. i mean of course i won’t let it discourage me but sometimes it’s really annoying. i get it i truly do but so many people boil kabru down to “yaoi boy” shut the fuck up. i also remember someone saying that trans kabru isn’t as important as trans falin or marcille, two WHITE women. sometimes the people in this fandom are so annoying

So uh. My freelance work here is kind of dying.

I thought i'd keep my long-term followers on the know-how, so i might as well write about my current circumstances here, give y'all an update, so to speak.

So, for several reasons, most of them not even my fault, i've been getting less and less commissions, almost none, actually, and the ones i get are usualy on the cheaper side, which is bad concidering that this is my livelihood, commission money pays my bills, my groceries, and my taxes, and now i sure as hell am strugling to imagine this will sustain me for long. Twitter is a sinking ship ever since elon went over, Specificaly for people like me. I had just broken into 12k followers there, a huge milestone for me, and then i got shadowbanned, and for the last few months i've gotten *nothing*. It's completely dead, i'm stagnated there, all my arts are censored, and there's no way for me to undo it or fix it, and so i've gotten less and less comms out there, which sucks because its the only reason i was even on that stupid site. Here on tumblr, meanwhile, the CEO went on a massive transphobic streak, and a lot of lgbt folk (which composed a lot of my following,) decided to jump ship, and i sure as hell dont blame them, but sadly that's more potential costumers that bailed, and there's no proper website to go to. Anywhere i'd go, i'd be starting from scratch again, which would be utterly disheartening and frustrating, and there no website that is kind to artists, with no algorythim, that also have a messaging system (the latter being ESSENTIAL to the way i do comms) So i'm kind of stuck. I just. have nowhere to go, and nothing to do. And last but not least, my own fault, I've just been drawing and creating what *I* specificaly want, on an hedonistic streak this year. That's why theres so much pony bs on this blog now, and why i was straight up posting poetry a while back, and have written hundreds upon hundreds of fanfiction pages in the last few months; Which, unfortunately, is a terrible business decision if your intent is making money. Which I surely should have prioritized, but in the end, its not up to me, its up to the costumers... So now i'm a bit stuck. I've enjoyed the things ive drawn and written more than anything i've ever done, and yet, i've never been less successful on the actual business side. I'm still considering my venues, my possibilities, but there's not many. Trying to get a job would certainly pull me away from creation, and i'd hate it regardless of what it was, and on another venue, theres no guarantee that going back to furry titties would bring me money.

and that's whats heartbreaking about it too. no matter how much effort i put on my work, theres no guarantee of sucess, so why even spend time trying to craft a masterpiece? why not just follow trends and make a tiktok account or whatever the fuck makes money these days. I'd rather not, frankly. And i wont. Well, that's about it. Thanks for reading this update, that's how my life is goin atm. i'm going to continue doing as i am right now, but yknow... I'm not sure what i should do, if you want to give me suggestions, feel free.

*sigh* Here we go.

DO NOT SENT ANY SORT OF HATE TO THIS PERSON, I DO NOT CONDONE ANY IF THIS BEHAVIOR!!!!

So um.... Since this person assumed about OP, I'm gonna do the same thing - if the gay man is R2 - no, I think they are talking about Brandon - gay man of color, than rewieving means nothing on the first draft because Brandon has an offensive type of humor, and the person who storyboarded it is R2, who has a SA and r* kink.

And judging by Vivziepop's behavior on Twitter, she does what she wants, whenever she wants and her unable to accept any sort of criticism, it is safe to assume, even if someone told her, 'Hey, this is too much' she wouldn't take them at their word anyway.

I'm going to repeat what everyone said multiple times so we are clear on this - No one cares, that Viv and R2 are into SA kink. No one cares, that Viv and R2 are into r* kink. We don't mind that they are exploring darker themes, our issue is HOW they are doing it.

Pausing mid-rant to get this out of the way. Those who felt seen and represented by ep4 and AD situation, you are valid and power to you. Those who felt NOT represented and triggered by ep4 and AD situation and how it was handled, you are valid and power to you. Both sides are valid and those who felt triggered DO NOT owe Vivienne Medrano any sort of apology.

Back to the rant, as I was saying, our issue is that we are supposed to take it seriously one episode and then make a joke out of it two episodes later.

As once great character said before bring butchered by awful writing: "Everything before the word 'but' is horsesh*t."

The sentence: 'I agree Sir Pentious joke was in bad taste.' Should have ended there and would've been fine. Now I can't tell if they are being genuine or not. (TLDR I personally don't hate kink (unless it is absolutely vile and harmful), yet I can't speak for everyone here - ignore the double negative)

And that person is assuming that OP of said post is not an SA victim, which, first of all: Why? Second: We can't share opinions or disagree with something if it hadn't happened to us? If that's the case, then writers, who didn't experience those things, can't write about them. Sound fair right?

(I didn't mention this at the beginning, there's this thing I find funny about this person is that they've been on SEVERAL critical posts with their replies deleted because many people were like 'TF you doin' here?')

satosugu mailman au 💌

a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!

here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!

There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’

Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.

Hii!! I agree with your points and your interpretation is valid. But just wanted to say that I think that using a guy character not acting like a pervert and borderline assaulty around women as a proof of them not being attracted is a very flawed and harmful logic (talking ab the scene of Komaeda falling under Mikan’s skirt you mentioned). I’m attracted to women but if I fall under girl’s skirt or witness an embarrassing situation I will be uncomfortable too. Komaeda’s reaction is how a normal respectful person would react and I’m very saddened that the amount of pervert anime characters has normalized such behaviour

That's super fair! I only realize now I am using it under the expectations of Danganronpa since there are so many perverted characters in the franchise, you're right and thank you for pointing that out. That actually is really upsetting now that you mention it, yeah I'm going to edit that out ew.

I've made posts on twitter of small, even if silly, praises about how Nagito seems to really value consent. He's always the loudest and most annoyed about teruteru's behavior, and within the franchise he's the one who's the most respectful and realistic when it comes to the problematic subjects. It's sad that not every character is as respectful as him. In fact almost all of the dr2 male cast is crushing on girls, some being gross about it, the only ones who don't are Nekomaru and Nagito. Crushing on girls is definitely not the issue, but half of them being gross about it is.

Just to redeem the example because I'm upset by it here's some instances of his weird somewhat lack of interest in women that we've seen or general vagueness

Chiaki saying this isn't as straightforward but it still implies her being sexy wouldn't work to get Nagito's attention which still says things about his possible disinterest or respectful nature maybe even both.

During fan service scenes in every manga adaptation he never blushes while every other character does

He avoids the question of sexuality every time it's asked, he either doesn't know it himself, doesn't think about it because he thinks he's unworthy, or has to beat around the bush because he's closeted. Although outside of characterization wise it may just be kodaka staying vague because that's the common pattern Lmao. The question is avoided during Q&as and during ultra despair girls he just ignores Kurokoma altogether lmao (would add more but image limit on mobile is my worst enemy)

i've seen multiple interpretations for this so just ???

Either way the status of canon is: Nagito shows interest in men and we see he has sexual desires, he's anything that isn't straight or aroace. He doesn't show evident interest in women and there's been no official word on his sexuality, it is up in the air when it comes to specifics. He is absolutely a queer coded character, whether he's gay, pan, bi, or something else there's no doubt about that. I believe Nagito is gay because there's a lot of evidence supporting this, I think it also makes his storyline more impactful. But at the end of the day there is no said canon and people are free to headcanon what they want to, whatever people say that isn't invalidating important parts of his character we actively see is preferred.

Our story was so short. Doesn't make it any less epic.

You ever have those moments where an idea just... won't leave your head?

Ship wars over Batman are so funny because that man is the king of divorce none of the relationships yall are fighting about are going to last. “He should be with Talia” “He should be with Selina” he can be with both because there is no “endgame” for him outside of dying alone like let’s be serious now

ramyatta roleswap au extracts

Pairing: Ramattra/Zenyatta word count: 1533 Notes: some extracts from a hypothetical fic of my ramyatta roleswap au, ramblings/explanation ab it here on twitter! Takes place in a time similar to current canon. Ramattra meeting Zenyatta for the first time since the latter left Shambali

There.

Hidden within the shadows of chaos and discord he noted the lone omnic. Such a beautifully simple model. Face plates serene, original purpose lost to the tides of time forever to remain a mystery.

It may have been decades since he had lived his first life as a Ravager beneath Anubis’ command, built and taught for war, but he had never truly gotten rid of the lessons he’d been bestowed from that time. Unable, and more privately, unwilling, to part with such valuable knowledge, regardless of the pain and grief they brought. to him.

Every part of him that had once been a general hummed in approval at the sheer brilliance displayed by Null Sector. After all, who could possibly suspect the ruthless and feared leader of Null Sector to be such a passive appearing garden variant omnic? A perfect disguise. Ingenious. One of the millions, doubtlessly unremarkable and unimposing to any fool who didn’t know better.

But Ramattra knew. Knowledge irreversibly and deeply etched into his code and his chassis. For a moment, he'd forgotten he lacked the lungs required to breathe, his air stolen by the mere sight of the other omnic. Wires and circuits long frayed sparking to life in answer to his awestruck state.

He stole, needed, a second longer to collect himself. Forcing himself to tear his optics away from the omnic and towards the sounds of gunfire and explosions, the rubble and ruin, just around the corner. A pointed reminder of his task at hand. Ulterior motives had to wait, he could not afford to dally when his allies and his people were in danger.

(Even as logic dictated his moves, he could not stop the sheer ache within his chest cavity. How long had it been since he'd last seen the omnic? He knew, of course, down to the last millisecond. How long he had waited for this moment, since their promise. Because it had been a promise, hadn't it?)

"I see that you've been quite busy since last we've met, Zennyatta," his voice kept carefully light as he walked into the omnic's line of sight, closing the distance between them with easy steps, his grip on his shepherd staff hiding the faint tremor that ran through his hands and discord raging within his core. He had no doubt that the other hadn't noticed him yet, that he had chosen to wait for Ramattra to make the first move and it ached.

It felt as though an eternity passed before Zenyatta turned his head towards him, looking up at him. Their kind had no faces for expressions, and though some had chosen modifications to mimic them, that applied to neither of them. Still, they had body language. They had their energy.

The relief and sheer delight in Zenyatta's form could have had him weeping, had he chosen to give himself that ability.

"Ramattra," Zenyatta murmured, and oh. How long it had been since Ramattra had last heard that voice utter his name. How dearly he had missed it.

"I don't suppose I could simply put a cease to this destruction so that we may talk in peace, could I?" wry amusement colored his tone, otherwise kept steady. For all the discord within him, he could never forget his place and his duty. He couldn't bring himself to bear the guilt of trying, as much temptation rang at his door. Years of biting his tongue, metaphorically, engrained deep. Still, he did not look away from Zenyatta, the one indulgence he could excuse. His optics carefully drinking in every inch of the other omnic, quietly, desperately.

Zenyatta laughed at his quip, painfully familiar and causing warmth to bloom in his system. He hadn't even realized how cold he'd felt moments before.

"It is good to see you, Ramattra."

"Likewise," he replied immediately, because it was. Undeniably, truly, was. But his voice quieted, a heavy sigh falling out, "I only wish we could have met again under better circumstances."

"I had noticed you were not there when Brother Mondatta condemned me."

Ramattra huffed, shifting where he stood as he glanced away, "You will find that I have held… uncertainties over some of Master Mondatta's opinions for far longer than you have."

"And yet," Zenyatta's gaze passive yet sharp, "It is only I who has decided to act upon our doubts."

"Do not be so emboldened as to assume me a fool, brother," oh, if only he could smile. Image of humans doing the same dancing at the corners of his mind, thin lipped and weary. The thought brought him to a slight pause. He'd been surrounded by far too many humans of late in search of Zenyatta, "Of course I have considered… alternative methods. Not all of my pilgrimages and ventures out of the monastery were particularly peaceful. You, of all people know that."

"So you must forgive me for failing to see why you would wish to stop me."

"There is nothing of you to forgive, for there is nothing I haven't already forgiven," his voice was quiet. A terribly foolish thing to admit, but he could not bring himself to lie to Zenyatta on his. He could lie to others and to himself, but not Zenyatta.

A foolish thing. But then again, he'd always been a bit of a fool around the other omnic. Perhaps it ought to be of relief to find that that much had not changed between them.

"You fight for our people, you fight for our lives," Ramattra continued, emboldened, "I know you take no joy in the violence, in the destruction. I know that you subjugate yourself and those innocent to it not out of sadism, not out of some corrupted coding, but out of desperation. Out of fear and care. You act out of love. Love and deep grief," he was certain, because he felt the same. It was so horribly easy to see them side by side in another life, sowing discord in vain hopes to bring order and peace, "How could I possibly resent you for loving our people?"

“I only fear that you will only find pain and failure upon this path,” Ramattra murmured, his head tilting to the side. His hand curling around his crook and small whir of a sigh, betraying his unease, “I should know, brother."

“Failure is acceptable, giving up is not,” Zenyatta countered, words spoken far too artificially for him to take any comfort from them, “If I am to give up now, then what message could possibly be imparted? That the will of omnics is flimsy? Breakable?”

“That we are not adverse to peace,” he replied evenly. The implication of frustration shown in the terseness of his chosen tone, the stiffness of his body, if only his exhaustion wasn't made much clearer, "We have fought for it for far too long to give it up. It is not right of us to undo the progress that Master Mondatta and the Shambali had worked for-"

"Master Mondatta left us before he could succeed," Zenyatta said quietly, so surely and it was the first time Ramattra could remember feeling anger towards the other omnic.

"Do not try to imply that change can die with one being," he snapped, harsher than he'd intended, but the images that'd been haunting him ever since he'd realized just exactly who was in charge of Null Sector burned bright and vivid in his processors. His anger held naught in comparison to the paralyzing fear he felt at the mere idea of Zenyatta's demise.

“I can't lose you!” Ramattra snapped, hands spasming in place, body frozen from overwhelming emotions before suddenly moving, lunging forward and grabbing onto Zenyatta's shoulders. His height had him towering over the other omnic, yet still, he felt as though he were on his knees, “There is only so much I can do, there is only so much I can handle. I am sorry, I am sorry and I can only beg for forgiveness for such weakness but please,” his voice module distorting as his composure, usually so proudly maintained and kept, turned to ash before them.

Foolish. Idiotic. Truly weak. Was there anyone he could save? He could not save Mondatta. He could not save their people. And now, he was failing to save Zenyatta. How pathetic could he be? How low could he fall?

“I cannot bear the weight of your loss,” desperation poured from each of his words, yet even then, his touch remained gentle. Far too gentle. Restrained and controlled, as he was taught and as he had learned, “Do not ask that of me, I will not be able to."

He could force Zenyatta to stop. He could physically restrain the more fragile omnic and take him far away. For his own good, for all of their good.

But Ramattra would not. No matter how part of him ached to demand. To take. To be. He could not. It had been so long since he was allowed to want for himself, he had forgotten how.

“Please, Zenyatta,” he pleaded, words barely recognizable past the static, because begging was all he had left, “I cannot lose you too.”

the amount of time I spend on tumblr dot com has given me quite the set of standards when it comes to artworks on the theme of 'Trans Angel', and actual museums are failing to meet those standards quite spectacularly.

i really dont know how to write an utterly harmless opinion, ultimately irrelevant complaint or comment on an observation without someone getting pissy at me for it

ngl with the whole h****h tweet thing, i feel like some people are acting like it's 100% unprompted and missing a possible bit of context, so i am just gonna drop this here

obv i'm not trying to say she's exempt from criticism bc she's said and done some very icky things (including getting with a man in a long-term relationship like girl? saying that bc it's more relevant to this than the other stuff), but i will say some of the hate does feel slightly misogynistic. like that tweet was unprompted and just gonna do more damage than good. the whole idea of "sleeping ur way to the top" is just icky, and if that tweet is gonna do anything, it's just gonna fuel a victim complex and let misogynistic ideas stay in circulation so genuinely can people just ignore her instead of making the whole situation worse if the only thing they can say will just make the situation worse?

oh no absolutely like it’s just a mix of. I think logging off would benefit her SO much bc her tweets are only gonna spawn more weirdos like that person bc that person is clearly unhinged and unwell to speak to ANYONE like that, especially to someone who the person they idolize clearly loves…..stan twitter as a whole is disgusting tbh 😭

those "are you lgbtq+ polls" are so silly honestly because of course almost everyone is gonna vote yes.... that's the audience you've curated like and the chances of it "breaking containment" is unlikely even if you had all your followers reblog it because they probably also run in those same circles

and not to project onto people i will never meet in my life. but i do imagine that being an actress and joining a large franchise is terrifying for the expected reasons- will my famous costars be decent people? will i have to relocate my life for the cycle of shooting and press for the next decade? is this "making it"? can i finally afford rent? etc etc. but there's excitement, a chance for something new to be made, a chance to step into these worlds you have loved being an audience member of!

and the way that "fans" will latch their teeth into actresses- of characters that they don't like, that they find annoying, that get in the way of their ships, anything, really- that constant barrage of hate, threats, and degradation on a public scale, that becoming their life- personally i cannot fathom this. and i think anyone who continues to engage with fans in the slightest nowadays when this is just seen as par of the course is going far above and beyond whatever their paycheck is.

The ICJ are absolute pathetic cowards for not demanding a permanent nor immediate ceasefire

They can do that and chose not too- South Africa won in getting them to acknowledge the ongoing genocide as such but the ICJ's language makes is very clear they don't call for what over 80% of the world has been saying for months

We all knew Israel would ignore everything the ICJ orders them to do but I don't wish peace to any ICJ members. The people of the living world have asked for peace and once again a group of wealthy maggots have decided to not abide with the laws of the nature- I've had enough and cast what will happen.

I know that they will never dream in peace and be haunted by all those that have died and will die for their incompetence and lack of a spine. I pray they will stub all their toes to the point they can no longer regrow their toe nails and be unable to walk properly from the agonizing bruising of their veins and nerve endings. I acknowledge the demons that help line their pockets with blood money & encourage they manifest into physical forms and rob them of their boldily autonomy- decaying them from the inside out. I invoke that as long as they remain in the mortal realm, that all their food is always burnt, uneven, and undercooked so they cannot enjoy the bare minimum bliss that all life can experience. I speak into existence that their bloodlines will end 2 generations after them at the hands of whom they hold rather than save. When they breathe for the last time, I ask their graves be decimated, robbed, and fade away to unremarkble dust once all the survivors and their descendants have taken one round to shit and piss on their headstones and urns. And lastly I guarantee their legacy of being failures & housing the evil for the same of power to control humanity outlives them when we discuss human history even after 100 centuries have passed. So let it be done.

Gimme red.