#The old war days

[dracocheesecake]

New Kai Headcanon As Treat:

If Kai likes someone, he will poke their bruises if they have any. He used to do it to Oogway constantly- sometimes searching for his bruises by poking him until he found them, and then poking them some more.

Kai: "You have a bruise?"

Oogway: "No."

Kai: "Where is it? Is it here?" *poke*

Oogway: "I'm not telling you. No."

Kai: "Here?" *poke*

Oogway: "No."

Kai: "Here? Here?" *pokepoke* "Here?" *poke*

Oogway: "Stop it."

Kai: "I just want to look at it. Show me." *pokepokepokepokepoke*

Oogway: "Ow!"

Kai: "Ha! There it is!" *pokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepoke*

[lemondragoncheesecake]

Oogway: "Nnnnnnng-please Kai, I'm a cold little turtle, and will die unless you let me bury my face in your voluptuous tits! Please you have to cuddle me!"

Soldier: "You know, General, you don't have to do that. Just starting a fire and setting him by it will-"

Kai, already holding Oogway close, wrapping him up in his cloak: "AND JUST LET HIM FUCKING DIE?!"

[bostoncreamdonut]

Silco is never beating the yearner allegations. LOOK AT HOW HE LOOKS AT HIM.

[zaana]

Omega having a day on Kamino with her brothers

[atomicradiogirl]

happy birthday to the og diva

[kagoutiss]

barely coherent scrawlings. utter nonsense

[raddest-laddest]

happy star wars day everypony

[coline7373]

« We should have grown old together… »

[vorbarrsultana]

i finished rereading the first four vorkosigan books (+ "the flowers of vashnoi" because ekaterin!!!), and you really have to feel for piotr vorkosigan because what a nightmare life, truly.

imagine you are born just in time for your world to be unified by dorca vorbarra and rediscovered by people from wider galaxy. things are finally looking good, for the first time in 600 years of isolation there is no more feudal infighting, and the promise of galactic medicine and technologies being available lightens everyone's perspectives. sure, your grandpa is called count pierre "le sanguinaire", but who doesn't have terrible relatives?

then you are 15, and suddenly your planet is attacked by the aggressive eugenecist space empire hell-bent on subjugating your people and turning them into disposable material for unethical genetic experiments. you flee into the mountains, away from your family, and create guerrilla forces from locals sworn to your dad, and it's really terrible for a very long time. you have no high-tech weapons and no food, you sleep in a cave in the dead of winter, and the cetagandans try everything (from carpet bombing to chemical weapons) to murder you.

but hey, at least you now have your bff ezar vorbarra, and (from the bff's words on his deathbed) it sounds like you two had so much fun between unimaginable horrors and despair, and it's not surprising, since no one really believes in death after life at 20. then the emperor makes you a general at the tender age of 22. fortunately for him, you & bff make a frighteningly competent dream-team, and the joke's on cetagandans.

then, several years later, you ask the emperor for weapons, because you still sleep on the bare cave floor, there are little resources, and every ghem on the planet is trying to murder you. he offers you the hand of his granddaughter instead, like it's some sort of twisted fairytale, but you grow to love your olivia more than anything, and the tide of war is finally turning, and you allow yourself to entertain the idea of peaceful life, and then...

the space eugenecist empire nukes your hometown, killing your mom, dad, surviving brothers, and two hundred thousand of your people. plus your bff (ezar) gets a radiation doze large enough for it to cause severe cancer thirty years later. great.

but you win! your district is in shambles, your capital is an irradiated crater, your castle is in ruins, but you win! the old dorca dies, and yuri ascends the throne, but politicking is secondary to the fact that you are alive.

yes, you are probably not entirely sane, and you've long forgotten what the peaceful times look like, but you are alive, just under 35, and your entire life is ahead of you. olivia is alive too, and ezar, and you now have three wonderful children, and the extended vorpatril-vorbarra family that hosts regular get-togethers. sure, your mom-in-law is a betan with all sorts of crazy ideas in her head, but she is not pierre vorrutyer. small mercies.

but then the new emperor goes mad, and decides to murder your entire family overnight. your brothers-in-law are gone, one of your sisters-in-law too, and all your nephews and nieces except little padma. but all of this pales in comparison to the facts that olivia is murdered, and that your heir and daughter lay dead beside her.

all you have left of her, of your house, of the family you've lost in vashnoi not a ten years ago, is aral, whom you keep by your side throughout the bloody civil war to put your bff on the throne.

but you win again. you are 43, and ezar vorbarra is now the emperor. you are responsible for the imperium's entire ground forces. you are also responsible for a severely traumatized boy of 13, and the only children you've interacted with without olivia's genle guidance were little messengers of guerilla companies.

what a mess.

[unidentified-refresher]

Finished design sheet for Zhecra!! Please look at my horrible mouldy woman :)

Darth Zhecra was a cruel and brutal sith lord during the time of the old republic. Later in life she became more secluded while pursueing her attempts to train the perfect apprentice. She was eventually betrayed by said apprentices and sealed in carbonite for thousands of years, until stumbled upon by a stranded group of jedi younglings during the clone wars...

[noramsblog]

They are the same age.

[dracocheesecake]

On that idea of Oogway meeting Kai's parents: Bingwen and Khaltmaa hold no punches when it comes to embarrassing their son in front of him. They definitely bring out the baby pictures, tell stories of Kai's most embarrassing moments, and gush over how much he talked about Oogway in his letters home.

Kai thinks it can't possibly get any worse, but then it does- because Oogway starts sharing a few embarrassing Kai stories of his own. This eventually leads to Kai getting so fed up that he has to escape the house to go "clear his head" at the pond, which is really just Kai sitting on the little dock looking into the water like:

Big bad warlord can't handle his parents and supposed "brother in arms" betraying him like this. He'll never recover from the emotional damage of their bullying. 😔💔

[the-copycat-hero]

thinking about Monoma talking to Aizawa before the final battle. thinking about him asking Aizawa, in the bluntest terms possible, how dangerous he thinks it's going to be. (if the plan falls through, Aizawa and Monoma will be some of Shigaraki's first targets. Monoma knows this).

thinking about how Aizawa would answer honestly because he doesn't sugarcoat things, least of all things as serious as this. thinking about how he would tell Monoma that it's going to be dangerous - incredibly so - and that Monoma doesn't have to go through with it. but they both know that it's a lie; of course Monoma has to go through with it. (there isn't any other option. not really).

thinking about Monoma writing letters just in case something goes wrong. a long letter to class B. individual notes for Vlad King and his closest friends. between the training and the writing, there isn't really any time for sleep, but it doesn't matter. (he wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway).

thinking about Monoma, at 16 years old, starting a war. a war that, at the end of the day, he knows that he might not come back from.

...man :(

[snarkspawn]

Happy Birthday @hoiist 🎉🥂

they call this one the Green Steel lmao

[altcvnningham]

adler can’t stop holding bell’s face when he kisses them.

and not gently, either, not the caress of a flower petal, delicate and sweet- bell’s barely a rose if not for all their thorns, and he wrings a hand round their jaw like one might wrench out a weed. rid and tossed to the dirt with all the rest. with all the red. with all that makes them wrong. with everything that came before.

if he can’t muzzle his dog, who can?

he bends their head upward in the interrogation chair, thumb dug into their cheek, squeezing the blood from their mouth into a sanguine rivulet between the web of his fingers; he jerks bell’s face toward the evidence board when their empty eyes fix on him a moment too long, enough to unsettle him; he stamps their chin under a hard thumb when he turns them to the light, soft pupils blown wide as he watches the sweet drug take hold; he digs his fingers into their jaw when they bark too loud at their duly master, shaking sense into his dumb mutt’s whistling hole of a head.

when he deigns to let them go, he makes a point to tear his hand away, sharp and spiteful, so even with the sting they still manage to find suffering in the loss. to yearn for the hand they bit back.

so the rest comes violent, too. the rest comes hungry. the rest comes when he wants it, and he wants bell, with such a blind fervour it drives him mad. where better men might leave, kick their losses to the curb and go elsewhere to get their fill, adler digs his heels deeper in the mud, the dirt where he buries all that red he carved out of them. if it’s tenderness he wants, he can take it for himself, and leave them with the hurt. it isn’t stooping to their level if he’s the one with the leash.

he kisses bell like he’s eating them from the inside. one hand squeezed tight around their flushed face, mouth forced open into an o-shaped pucker. he nicks their lip as smirking proof of his callousness, snags it on his sharpest canine. a peck that mocks affection. licks his way inside their mouth like it’s a threat, a proclamation. you let me do this to you. you let me in, bell. let me in, let me in. such a good dog when they do, loll their tongue out pathetic and starving. he drives his thumb inside, hot, wet, forces their mouth open by the hinge of their stiffened jaw- the last laughable vestiges of their reluctance, crumbling into dust fine enough to sift like sand between his fingers. guess science still has its limits, but so do you.

when he’s worked bell’s mouth nice and wide, he flattens their tongue with a thick finger, face clamped between the rest, and while they’re just about learning to make peace with it all- the humiliation, the degradation, submission made sanctification through the eager expectation of praise- he spits inside, and makes them swallow.

[reliciron]

SWTOR + text posts - part 4

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5