#i really do not go here

[tennessoui]

kit’s foray into another star wars ship (dinluke)

is kit a) expanding her horizons, b) running from her responsibilities, or c) inspired by that fan art of force ghost anakin hugging r2d2 (linked when found) and me thinking ok what if luke is trying to do run-of-the-mill maintenance on artoo but force ghost anakin won’t stop trying to suggest what needs fixing so they’re just bickering back and forth over droid engineering and din walks in to visit his kid and just sees luke arguing with thin air and starts thinking maybe he left grogu in the care of a madman

(so far just 1k, but here’s the first 800)

Din lives his life by one very important creed.

Alright, two very important creeds.

The first is the one that he grew up with, mantra stamped across the back of his eyelids, words imprinted in his brain. The Way of the Mandalore is a way of honor, and it serves as pillar, foundation, and guiding stone of his life.

The second creed Din obeys is not ingrained into his mind by anyone but himself, and he’s fucking shit at following it.

It’s the Do Not Get Involved Unless You’re Dragged Into The Fight Kicking and Screaming creed, and it goes hand in hand with the principles of Do Not Start Fights You Cannot End Within Twenty Seconds and For the Love of the Stars, Djarin, Don’t Go Around Poking Sleeping Krayt Dragons.

Alright. If he’s being honest, this is less of a creed and more of an aspiration, but he tries to abide by its tenets, and, it has to be said, for a good portion of his life, he does. 

And then he finds the kid.

And then the kid becomes his kid, which is an adjustment he’s dragged into kicking and screaming, and it definitely involves a lot of fights that last a whole lot longer than twenty seconds.

And trying to find a Jedi in a galaxy as big and strange as this one? Apparently it involves a lot more sleeping Krayt Dragons than Din’s second creed accounted for.

But finding one—or, one finding them as it may be—well. No creed Din knows prepared him for how it felt to watch his kid be taken away from him. It’d been the optimal future, the end result he’d been gunning for for months: return the kid to his people.

There. Done. Returned. Package received.

Din’s been around long enough that successful bounties and completed contracts don’t tend to fill him with a warm rush of satisfaction anymore.

But this is the first that’s ever left him feeling hollow.

—-------------

“What’s been eating at you, Mando?” Karga asks. 

Din scowls and resists the urge to shift his weight. “Nothing.”

Karga raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the cooling purple drink in front of him.

“You wanted the Imp,” Din says when the silence stretches from pointed into weighted. “Here’s the Imp.”

He nudges the head further across the table.

“I wanted the Imp for questioning,” Karga says very slowly. “Ideally with his vocal cords attached.”

Oh. Din glances down at the bloody bag. “Oh.”

He doesn’t try to sound very apologetic, which only seems to make Karga’s exasperation grow.

“So I ask again. What’s eating you, Mando?”

“Right now, bounties with unclear parameters.”

“Right now, you’ve only earned half the bounty, and that’s because I’m a generous man who considers you a friend. Now I can see ourselves coming to agreement on what you’re owed—if you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Behind the safety of his helmet, Din scowls harder. “Friend.”

Greef kicks the chair across from him out and tilts his cup towards it. “Friend.”

—-----------

Two hours later, Din is thoroughly convinced he used his glowing new Darksaber to sever the wrong person’s head.

Greef hasn’t stopped laughing in the last ten minutes. The man’s red in the face, alternating between pounding his fist on the table and leaning against his new marshal. Dune, for her part, is expressing the highest amount of mirth Din’s ever seen as she hiccups with glee into her third drink. 

He’s really starting to calculate the probability of successfully taking Karga’s coin purse off him now that he’s distracted, when the man finally chokes out whole words.

“Worried the Jedi’s too violent to raise the little green guy!”

Din crosses his arms over his chest.

Dune roars with laughter. 

Din doesn’t think it’s very funny. The Jedi sliced through the ranks of Dark troopers within mere seconds, as if they were no threat at all. It’d been impressive. The man—the Jedi—had been impressive. Din was impressed by his skill when he had the space to feel anything outside the devastation of losing the kid.

But a man that versed in violence doesn’t learn those sorts of skills without being surrounded by death and destruction for years.

And Din just gave his kid over to be raised in that kind of environment? 

Was Grogu even safe? Was he alive? Was the Jedi even lookin—

“The bounty hunter thinks the kid’s new home is too violent,” Karga cackles. “The guy—the guy who just brought me a man’s head in a pouch is worried about the little green guy’s new—-”

Dune snorts out her drink, she’s laughing so hard, and Din stands to leave.

If he knicks Karga’s coin purse on his way out the cantina, then hey. 

What are friends for?

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[reasonsforhope]

Sometimes you just have one of those moments where the progress we've made as a culture get thrown into stark relief. You look at something and go "Holy shit, that would never have happened when I was a kid."

Today, I had one of those moments when I realized that the teenage boys I'm working with are just. genuinely, openly enthusiastic about going to Build-a-Bear for their outing.

These are sixteen and seventeen year old boys! They just had a whole conversation about what to name their "cute", mostly new squishmallows! They're genuinely excited that they're going to Build-a-Bear this weekend and asking other kids to pick up specific accessories for them!!

Holy shit, that never would've happened when I was 16. None of the boys would have dared to be visibly interested - and neither would most of the girls! There would have been a million gay jokes and "Haha, you're a girl" jokes and "What are you, a baby?" jokes. Teenagers weren't even supposed to care about anything back then!

Less than 15 years later, and I'm watching three 17 year old boys treat all that as not even worthy of comment.

So let's call that a reason for hope. Even when the kids aren't alright, in some ways apparently they are alright. Go Gen Z, honestly. It's so lovely to watch you guys just openly doing and saying stuff that, when I was a teen, would've been a social death sentence.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[yardsards]

someone pointed out that milsiril sniffs the top of kabru's head like parents of newborns do with their babies, and i haven't been able to stop thinking abt it

like. ma'am. that is a wholeass preteen.

[cj-the-random-artist]

I have made. Another comic. I took a very, very long time, as usual lmao. I originally got inspired to make this after watching through Arcane cuz. Nicely done media makes me want to make things and all that. And, at that time, I'd sent Narinder out on a mission trip in my new save and he came home full of existential dread (I have terrible luck with Narinder on missions therefore so does QPR AU Lambert I guess lol), and it had occurred to me that that would make an interesting premise for a comic maybe?? Turns out it did.

I think I'm happy with this?? The perfectionist in me is not, and to be honest I think I could've drawn a lot of things better and also I think this would read better if it felt a little slower... but also it's 13 pages long so I can't fault myself all that much. I do wish I had spent more time on some of these interactions, particularly between Lambert and the Goat and also between Narinder and his siblings, I have a lot of thoughts about the Bishops post their joining the cult but I haven't had a ton of time to really like... flesh out those ideas as much as I would like to. Maybe someday?? Idk.

Semi-related, while this comic gave me a lot of thoughts about the Bishops it also gave me a lot of thoughts about like, the exact like, I guess boundaries and terms of Narinder and Lambert's QPR, and also about what exactly happened to Narinder while he was out, and he's not lying a lot did happen but that's a little too long to just throw in the description here so maybe future me will describe it somewhere or something. This comic also got me thinking about Webber a fair bit, and once day I will expand upon those thoughts but not today, I have outside activities today lol

Anyways. This comic, like all my art, is not perfect, but it was fun to make and I spent too long on it for nobody to see it, so... enjoy!!

[egophiliac]

trying to finish up some older stuff before the new year (and also subject everyone to more endless Meleanor forever)

have a good one, guys! ❄️

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[tagerrkix]

Eden was their ✨disney princess era✨

[spitedemon]

i really don’t think it’s “typical dragon age fandom nonsense” for people to be genuinely upset about the world state choices. combat, level design, art direction, gameplay gimmicks, those have all varied across each dragon age game. the one thing that’s remained constant are nods to our previous choices.

i wasn’t expecting my HoF to come riding in on a griffon, but i can’t find a monument dedicated to warden tabris somewhere around the anderfels? lucanis couldn’t have some lines about the time that one arainai boy was stirring up trouble in antiva city? you’re gonna tell me that making a mage the new divine wouldn’t have some impact on nevarra and antiva? on the anderfels, the supposed most devout militant andrastian nation in thedas? you’re saying nobody in the north is paying attention to who rules orlais or ferelden? come on.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nova-rpv]

a redraw of the first drawing i posted here to celebrate the fact that ive been in tumblr for more than a whole year posting my shit and havent deleted my blog in panic yippee \:D/ (mushy rant in tags)

[scaradeus]

(not a ship art)

og post

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[fisherrprince]

I’ve been possessed. If anyone wants to know where Edgeworth is, he’s been watching kamen yaiba with the detective boys for 4 hours