#and because he looks good as hell

[bubbarnes]

“... I've always said, you know, you're only as good as the company you keep.”

[mipexch]

i love animating these little freaks

[bunnieswithknives]

AU based off Nature except I kept thinking about it too hard. Dales not a good dad, but its such an easy problem for him to throw money at, and what do you do when a part is damaged? Well, you replace it.

Basically an AU where Dev gets to experience medical trauma and realizes much sooner how much his dad doesn't love him

[3twindragons]

It’s been a long dry spell for WinterHawk!

[musubiki]

its been a while since my last summer mochi 🌺🏖️

[mightierthanthecanon]

What would you have had me say, that I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?

I would have had you trust me!

[coern-art-very-cool-and-nice]

distant blue sky

[novakiart]

spinneret fun! 🕷️ written by me & nevi

the rest under cut:

[landedinpayne]

in case you are in the mood to feel devastated here’s an alternate way of viewing charles’ response to edwin’s confession:

we know that charles kinda puts edwin on a pedestal- yes they are partners but there is a bit of a hierarchy between them. charles just looks up to and admires edwin in so many ways while constantly looking down on and being really hard on himself. he puts on his big happy persona because he thinks that people wouldn’t like him if they actually got to know him.

so when edwin confesses, it’s like a blow to him. he took his charming persona too far and went and tricked the most important person in the world into thinking he was worthy of love. and it’s worse because he does love edwin in that way, which is exactly why he can’t let him know that. charles still believes that he is like his dad, and he saw exactly what his parents’ relationship did to his mother.

he thinks that loving edwin in the way that he wants to would only cause more pain to this boy who has already been through far more than he deserves. so he blinks back his tears, attempts the same charming smile he’s used all these years, and dishes out the gentlest non-rejection in the history of forever

[shotmrmiller]

Waking up to find Soap peppering kisses on your clothed coochie. And ur like “whatre you doing?”

And he’s js like “just getting in my morning worship”

Alternatively you wake up to his tongue deep inside your pussy

you're like that's sacrilegious??? but he meant it. the wooden beads of his rosary are currently digging into your thigh and the small golden cross around his neck occasionally brushes your skin.

and then murmurs proverbs 18:22 into your cunt

[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.”

[puppppppppy]

you are umasou

[lyxchen]

DO YOU THINK MAYBE IN-HO REALLY WANTED GI-HUN TO LEAVE AND GO VISIT GA-YEONG NOT JUST TO HAVE HIM AWAY FROM THE GAMES BUT ALSO BECAUSE IN-HO CAN NEVER HAVE WHAT GI-HUN STILL DOES?? A CHILD?!! DO YOU THINK IN-HO TOLD GI-HUN TO BOARD THAT PLANE BECAUSE IF HIS WIFE AND CHILD HAD SURVIVED IN-HO WOULD HAVE BOARDED!! THAT!! PLANE?!!?!!!!! DO YOU- DO YOU THNIK HHHHHHHhhhh

[shorthaltsjester]

Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Red Storm

Heroes and Monsters by Penny & Sparrow // Critical Role Campaign 3

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

I cannot emphasize enough how much everything In-ho did during his time in the games was in service of breaking down Gi-hun. Every glance, every story, every comment was incredibly and deliberately calculated.

His first interaction with Gi-hun immediately places the blame on Gi-hun for the games continuing: "I pressed the O because of you." He also explicitly asks for Gi-hun's help on behalf of the group. This sucks Gi-hun into being a mechanism of the games themselves (not just a player, but one telling others how to play) while robbing him of his agency to do so: whereas he was confident in helping during the first game, because it was his choice, In-ho's request forces him to share about the Dalgona prematurely, and he then has a nightmare about misleading the players. This also leads to many players becoming hostile when the game is not Dalgona, which--who could have guessed?--In-ho jumps in to stop. He orchestrated the situation so that Gi-hun would feel maximum pressure and guilt, before In-ho himself relieves it to build trust between them.

Then there are the introductions. In-ho uses Gi-hun's name before they are introduced, which may have been a genuine slip, but was very likely intentional given his response. In-ho's method throughout the games is to parallel and associate himself with Jung-bae, Gi-hun's only actual friend (he saves him during the merry-go-round games; he eavesdrops on Jung-bae's conversation with Gi-hun and directly uses the "get me a soju" line from that conversation to subconsciously build Gi-hun's trust in him during the firefight). So when he uses Gi-hun's name, he says he does so because he heard Jung-bae doing it, and Gi-hun allows him to continue--this creates the first of the links between them. But then, when they are properly introduced, In-ho laughs that "Seong" just means "last name;" in doing so, he implies to those who don't know him that Gi-hun may not be telling the truth, and in context of their conversation (focused on the significance of their names) highlights how Seong Gi-hun is "no one special." He's just an everyman.

Another reason that "slip" was almost certainly intentional is that In-ho is very deliberate about showing moments of weakness. His breakdown during the Six-Legged Race was designed to both further stress Gi-hun (and if Gi-hun had failed, they were in the very last groups present, so they could have been selectively spared as needed) and to strengthen their bond, as Gi-hun got to "encourage" In-ho; then In-ho helped Gi-hun and the team win by kicking with him the final time. Even cheering along with Gi-hun while the other teams went was in service of cementing their connection; and, any time a team failed, In-ho got to observe Gi-hun's reactions under the guise of empathy. In-ho may have felt some genuine emotions while cheering or comforting Gi-hun, but they aren't to be trusted.

That's particularly true because of his biggest "weak" moment: telling Gi-hun why he is in the games. The show confirms, when Jun-ho finds the winner file, that In-ho actually did join the games years before (from his family we know that it was because of his wife's illness), and that he won them himself. So he isn't lying about the details of his personal story--and he even gets emotional--but it is, once again, all in service of ensnaring Gi-hun and earning his trust. In-ho is not faking all of his emotions, but he is controlling and weaponizing them, which is why none of his apparent fondness for Gi-hun can be trusted. He uses his emotions as a tool, rather than being affected by them.

The ultimate result of this manipulation is that Gi-hun is made to feel that everything that happens is his choice (even the things he didn't choose). From the beginning, In-ho has ascribed his choices to Gi-hun. Throughout the games, there are several moments where In-ho explicitly has Gi-hun choose for him; other times, In-ho suggests an approach and Gi-hun shoots it down, and In-ho always coalesces. Gi-hun gets to have "his way." But "his way" doesn't seem to work, and he, like the rest of the players, is changed by the games. His final plan, as In-ho forces him to face, involves a sacrifice of some for the good of the many. Only after he admits this (through his silence) does In-ho agree to help. Then, during the firefight, when Gi-hun tries to give In-ho the ammunition he risked his life to get, In-ho asks, "Are you sure?" Gi-hun's choice to trust In-ho leads to him running out of ammunition earlier, forcing his surrender; meanwhile, In-ho still "dies," and Jung-bae is shot in front of Gi-hun's eyes. None of Gi-hun's choices made things better--they made it all his fault. He is left with the blame, as the Frontman (who is In-ho! And always has been!) tells him point blank.

But none of Gi-hun's choices have really been choices. They have all been based on lies, within a system that uses the information they have to actively orchestrate events against him. The same is true of the players in the game; their choices are not free, because their circumstances (largely caused by unfairness in the world) have trapped them. The baseness they resort to is not what they would do if they really had the choice, and some are even able to choose virtue within the hellscape, but over and over, the system facilitates the dominance of cruelty. And In-ho, the personification of that system, targets Seong Gi-hun, the "Everyman," to make him submit to it--to make him choose to believe that there is no other way.

[revvethasmythh]

One thing I find really fascinating about this last ep is that the confrontation with Laudna, in Orym's own words, "brought [him] back to himself, a little bit." Because of this, he chose not continue his plan of using Ishta, a blade Dorian refers to as "clearly a threat." Orym turns away from it and admits it's probably a good thing he's been diverted from this path.

Meanwhile, both Laudna and Dorian use Orym and his (now defunct) desire for the sword as a point of comparison and/or mental justification for their own ill-advised risks. Laudna leads with, "Just as Orym wishes to wield that sword, I wish to wield Delilah" (obviously this was said before Orym gave up the sword, but his doing so has not, as far as we know, dissuaded her from this path at all), and Dorian holds the Gambler's Blade "thinking to himself about Orym last night, and how serious he was, how dedicated he was to the cause of wanting this sword that was clearly a threat" and sits with the reality of the situation he's in and decides to take an extra risk on his own life.

All three of them, in some manner, are pinging on the same concept: that the stakes to this fight are enormous and taking a massive risk might be necessary to finish this mission. But in this specific scenario, Orym is the one who backed off, re-evaluated his position, and decided the potential risk (to both the cohesion of the team, and his own mental health/morality, presumably) wasn't worth it. But the impression was already made. Laudna still wants to bring Delilah into this fight (something she'd already basically decided, but chose here to really double down on), and Dorian made the active decision to lower his chance of survival for a better chance to hit. Both of them doing the opposite of what Orym ultimately did, while still keeping Orym in their minds as they do so.