#I have many thoughts about it honestly

[ifoundaflamingsword]

[egophiliac]

Since book 7 part 5 (the part where we meet Meleanor/Maleanor 👀) is coming to EN this month, i would love to see your take on lilia’s proposal to meleanor! i mean they were like little kids right? it couldn’t have been that serious…i think the only reason she even brought it up again is because she could tell lilia still genuinely loved her…(even if he didn’t realize it himself?) but, oh well! Let’s think about silly childhood shenanigans to numb the pain! ^_^ (orz)

oh shit?! get ready for a doozy guys, it's comiiiiiing ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

I chickened out of posting the whole thing (look, I get VERY carried away when it comes to these wacky kids and their Tragedy), but I do believe that it probably ended with Lilia getting embarrassed and just shoving the first thing he sees into his mouth to try and cover for it.

(we're just lucky it wasn't a frog this time)

[ingoodjesst]

have you put the pieces together yet, detective

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Round and round, In circles we go.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[iizuumi]

narureno kisses ,,, don't look at me

[hysteriafossil]

guess who finished tlok tonight and immediately had this come to him in a vision!!!!

[skitskatdacat63]

okay.

[not-equippedforthis]

thinking about rudyard funn's true interests slowly becoming more apparent, mostly without his distinct realisation: the family business is his torch to carry, and even if it isn't a passion it's a duty, it's his life; it's not supposed to be fun. antigone has always been a dark, burning flame for biology and embalming and the science of it all: to her, it's an art as gorgeous as the 4 hour silent french films she watches. her true yet restrained passions for literature and theatre run and flourish throughout the podcast alongside it.

but rudyard? it's an order: he gets the body in the coffin in the ground on time. the part he likes about funeral directing is the directing. giving everyone a clean, timed, proper service. episode 4, when organising the fete, he says, i, i do like spreadsheets. its the one thing he's good at. except he likes building mouse furniture. for mice. he enjoys organising and scheduling --- nothing more to it, really, but then he becomes the town's archivist and promptly engulfs 300 years of town history in what's probably the span of a few days. he can't help but bring up town history. it's his job, what do you mean? he likes spreadsheets. he cares infinitely about upkeeping the burial grounds. touching corpses freaks him out. he's an agent of looney-tunes style mayhem and a symbol of death who also adores order and planning and by god he'll pose in a naked calendar if it saves his fucking schedule. they will get the body in the coffin in the ground on time. day one, it's all about time. if one historical detail is off he'll implode. he knows seemingly everything about history, now. he'd go crazy for wikipedia. someone should get him to watch cunk on earth. update: finally got myself to finish the finale. i'm so happy for them i could and did cry. 'i like researching history' and 'i like writing porn' siblings i love you so.

[calmlb]

thinking about how Beast!Atsushi is meant to parallel canon!Dazai… the Port Mafia’s White Reaper & Black Wraith

there are so many moments in Beast that stuck out to me as parallels between beast!Atsushi & canon!Dazai, but this is a poignant one for me

[sixerstanley]

just read a bit in a fic where Ford pats Stan's head and calls him a "good boy" and Stan has an Awakening™ and i cannot stop thinking about it (its just a small bit in the fic tho, although I'm not caught up with it yet). you cannot convince me that they both don't have praise kinks

with ford its basically canonical or like, at least the fact he desires praise and basks in it (which bill gave him).

with stan i think its a bit different? like he desires praise, he wants praise and wants to be told something different other than the fact he's good for nothing, but i have a feeling that when he does get it? he freezes up. i can see him shrugging compliments off from ford, him just saying "shut up" while looking away, because it can't be true. He's always been the fuck up, has always messed things up no matter how hard he tries, so when someone (ESPECIALLY FORD, someone he cares for and respects and loves) tells him something that disrupts the perception he was made to have of himself, he truly doesn't know how to react.

And when he is able to un-freeze himself, he shrugs it off. Because he doesn't believe them. When you're told that you're nothing but a screw up your entire life, so much so that you make that a part of your identity, when someone starts to--god forbid--compliment you, its uncomfortable as hell. And it seems contradictory and makes no sense on paper, because wouldn't you want that? Wouldn't you crave all the praises in the world, because nobody has ever given you the time of day before?

The answer is: yes and no. Because it's one thing to fantasize about it, because that's all it is--a fantasy. A fantasy of not being who he is, which, in his mind, is a giant, walking mistake.

So, when Ford starts becoming nicer to him, giving him compliments here and there since defeating bill, Stan doesn't know how to handle it. It disrupts his reality, his perception of himself.

I think, if stan were to ever work out his issues, at least internally, or if maybe ford can kind of notice that there's a malfunction in Stan's brain every time he compliments him, it could be worked on. Maybe a chat about it (unlikely knowing these two), maybe a fight about it (more likely), or maybe Ford taking drastic measures like tying stan to a bed and praising him until he starts to believe him.

anyway. bottom line is that they both have praise kinks, but stan's is way more complex and less straightforward than Ford's.

[pixelkip]

You know what. Why do we as a touhou fandom not talk about the fact the pc98 songs are canon. They exist. In canon. Akyuu has them documented and has probably heard them. Someone within touhou's universe wrote them. Reimu could probably actually listen to her own theme. Were the songs actually written about the events of those games?? Was eternal shrine maiden written about reimu?? Was love colored magic written about marisa?? I'm going insane

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[uncanny-tranny]

I don't think it really sinks in just how devastating social development/social understanding deficits can be, especially growing up in formative years.

I was the type of autistic who genuinely didn't know the things I said were or may be insulting to others until it was too late and the worst part was I wasn't being malicious. But because my statements, observations, or jokes were taken as malicious, nobody thought to direct me about what is socially acceptable. Instead, I was socially isolated, making the issue worse because I never learned. I don't fault others for this, but social isolation because of differences in neurotypes absolutely affects your development, I think. It hasn't been until pretty recent that I started to actually be able to have the foresight to know that my intentions aren't clear to others the way that they are clear to me. In fact, my socializing has swung the other way where I am too restricted and paranoid.

I absolutely understand that I lived in a time where different neurotypes were not understood, and that because nobody understood, you were seen as maliciously non-compliant with social cues and roles. I don't blame the people around me who didn't know, but what I am trying to say is that I just wish we weren't so quick to socially isolate the "freaks" and "weirdos" and "non-compliant" people. Humans are social creatures, and honestly, it's a very drastic punishment that often makes the behaviours worse.

[sanjiaftersex]

remember when sanji was fighting CP7's ramen guy wanze who had a full armour made of ramen noodles and Sanji cut the armour up and served the noodles neatly in plates around the kitchen because he has a principle of never wasting food my dear sanji you are so honorable

[kuroo-hitsuji]

Hi I'm too shy to properly hijack posts especially on ones where no one else is blorbo posting but, in regards to my last reblog:

LiSteN