#in her own

[kalevalakryze]

The Darksaber: Pre Vizsla

"What do you know of this blade?" "I am told it is the Darksaber." "Indeed. Do you understand its significance?" "Whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore."

The darksaber had passed many hands in a few short years, Bo Katan has watched and, in true Mandalorian fashion, has followed each wielder to some degree.

Pre Vizsla was Mandalorian, true to their traditions and heritage, unlike the pacifists that now sat in their homes capital, dishonoring their ancestors. Pre Vizsla, by all rights, the true Mand'alor was the only one who had truly seen Bo-Katan Kryze's truth. Could see past the clan and her sister's rule, and see what she was meant to be. Joining Death Watch had been the best thing for the young warrior, aligning herself with like-minded warriors who would see their home returned to True Mandalorians, and Pre would be the one to unite all, except those weak willed enough to bend the knee at the mere thought of conflict. He wielded the darksaber, and with it, the power to rally and lead, to strike down all who would demand a change to their warrior traditions, so long as he had his loyal lieutenants at his side.

Bo had risen through the ranks with blood, sweat, and anger. Her ferocity made her a force to be reckoned with, and it didn't take long for him to acknowledge the fire that burned so deeply inside of her. She had just needed some guidance, a helping hand to guide her along the creed, to help direct the destruction that Bo brought with her. So Pre started to mentor him, in his own way. He needed to make sure his lieutenants were properly motivated and knew what was expected to stay at his side.

"again," his voice cut through the air, his helmet tilted down to stare at Bo Katan, kneeling on the ground and clutching at her abdomen. It was never easy, to get her down in a fight, but he'd always won, and would continue to push her, to punish when required, to build her into a proper mandalorian. like him, lest she get too weak and turn to her sister's ideology.

The teenager pushed herself to her feet, muscles aching as she gathered her blaster from where it had been knocked from her grip in their last spat. In his hands, the darksaber reignited, held off to his side as she prepared herself to defend, the shield in her vambrace sparking to life as their jetpacks started to release fumes, ignition coils warmed and ready to be called upon for flight. Bo took to the air quickly, feet pushing herself from the dirt and using the pack to propel herself over Pre's head. Her blaster rained yellow bolts of laser down upon the man, batted away by the saber before they could breach his personal bubble.

The darksaber swung, the acrid smell of fire seemingly burning away the air around it as it swiped in an arc towards her abdomen. A quick twist in the air and a firing of her thrusters got her away from the blade with just a second to spare, the force of her impact on the ground sending her to one knee. Her arm raised in just enough time for the black blade to glance across her shield, though Pre had rolled with the deflection and twirled the blade, moving behind him in a fluid motion that gave her time to stand and release her blade from her gauntlet.

A duck of her upper body and the propulsion from her jetpack had her close in Pre's personal space, arm, extended with a polished blade set to aim for the sliver of exposed flight suit around his abdomen. When his left arm dropped down hard onto the unarmored part of her elbow, she'd forced her leg up, boot smacking into his shin, the metal toecap of her boot getting the room it needed to smash directly into the unarmored piece at the back of his knee.

The darksaber swiped as he started to go down, narrowly avoiding her bicep as she rolled out of the way. He was on her in the next moment, propelling himself to smack them both into the ground. With the added propulsion of jetpacks, he was able to drag her across the snowy expanse of ground, sending freezing cold snow into her armor and chilling her to the bone. Her leg swung around his wait, and a shove of her palms against the ground gave her the force she needed to switch their positions, sending him to the ground as her hand came drown to slam into his helmeted face. The ring of beskar echoed into the bones of her hand, keeping her fingers curled even after her arm reeled back.

Her actions followed to the letter however, his helmet knocked from it's position locked on his head, and obscuring Pre's sight for a brief moment. His leg moved up as she was scrambling to stand, planting firmly into the unarmoed joint between her legs and hips, forcing her back and a hand to drop to her leg at the feeling of his force damn near trying to kick her leg from it's home in the socket. Vizsla took her stumble in strides, rolling to his feet and sending a fist into her gut. The darksaber was disengaged and returned to his belt as he lifted his leg, catching her across the chest and reeling back from a kick.

Still not willing to go down yet, not willing to show weakness when it got tough, Bo's arm lifted, her grapple shooting out and cuffing his waist, yanking him forward hard and jamming her helmet into his face. The force of it all had him dazed, even as he cut the line and sent the spool reeling back into her armor with a snap, his hand had raised to his head, fingers pressing into the visor.

When she moved on the offensive again, his hand shot out, fingers curling around her throat as he caught her, forcing her head up as both of her hands moved to his one, unable to see the way his unoccupied hand was holding the unlit hilt of his sword, or the anger that burned in his eyes. "that's enough," A squeeze at her throat had her hands tearing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers from the bruising grip. She was released just as her vision started to black out, crumpling to the ground and sucking in harsh breaths, fingers buried into the dirt beneath the snow to steady herself.

"you have done well, but remember, a True Mandalorian never stops honing their skills," He called down to her haughtily, and she felt a spark of resentment flare to life, wise words from a man who wouldn't change his ways, who jumped the gun and lost each time. Her mouth stayed shut, however, he was the True Son of Mandalore, he would return them to glory, and she would still be his second in command, the warrior he turned to for council, even if it was seldom taken. It was her place, to be by his side, united as True Mandalorians.

▬▬ι═══════>

"It's like you said. . . only the strongest shall rule."

Bo Katan's eyes widened in shock and horror as the dar'jetti wielded the blade of their people, and for the first time in a long time, she felt the ice cold fingers of fear digging into the pits of her stomach. The intention was clear, Maul defeated Death Watch's leader in fair combat, according to their traditions, he would be the one to rule. But Pre... She forced her gaze to remain on the dark blade that emanated shadows, tried her best to block the sound of his dismembered head rolling across the throne platform, focused more on the sounds of whispers and blasters being lowered. Focused on the must of Pre's aftershave that still hung in the air, the air that seemed too thick with the sickly smell of singed blood.

"I claim this sword and my rightful place as leader of Death Watch." Maul declared, holding the ancient weapon above his head for all to see, daring anyone to dismiss his honorable accomplishment against Pre.

Her shoulders shook of their own accord as she tried to control her breathing, the Nite Owls at her side were still prepped to fight, they knew her distrust of the dar'jetti from the start, and like the loyal family they were, had read her intentions clear as day. "never," no outsider will ever rule Mandalore!" She challenged as her spark turned into a fire, face twisted with anger, with loss, and with certainty that her next moves would be right, this time.

Bo Katan and her niteowls would escape Sundari, and she would throw herself into battle plans and scenarios. She had an Ori'vod to save from the dar'jetti, after all.

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[starridge]

puppet hour was brutal

[canisalbus]

Trying to figure out modern Ludovica.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman

[vamprisms]

hate when streaming services are like.... you can now pay cinema prices to watch new releases at home! not to show my age but if i am watching it on my tv set then it's free??? you think you're an equal to big picturehouse? with no big screen? no big pop corn? you want to charge cinema price to show me a movey in my own house? Honour demands i kill you btw

[notherpuppet]

Role reversal AU

[aquasharkpencilmark]

Sick day

I like these rats a lot

[angelfic]

annabeth and grover frantically submerging percy in water the way you’d put an iphone in a bowl of rice

[baltimore-belle]

i need you all to understand how absolutely fucking monumental beating someone by SEVENTEEN seconds in a swim race is. normally, in olympic swimming, all the swimmers finish within the same few seconds. notice how in the event replay, all the other swimmers are roughly in a line during the race… (admittedly, swimmers tend to finish further apart from each other in longer distance races, but not by that much.) people spend months, years of their lives doing brutal training just trying to one-up other swimmers by a single second, because that can mean a win. every hundredth of a second matters.

and then. imagine being ledecky and finishing your olympic race, sitting and waiting on second place to arrive for seventeen entire seconds.

[c-rowlesdraws]

Ratatouille would have been a better and potentially much more interesting story if Remy had partnered with Collette instead of Linguini. Two underdogs with talent and passion forced to maintain a dangerous ruse. Fiercely independent Collette giving up temporary control of her body to a creature who, despite the insanity of a rat wanting to cook professionally, she can relate to on a personal level and who she does want to teach. The inner conflict of wondering if Remy’s growing talents are eclipsing her own, if the praise their food is earning belongs more to him than to her. Her guilt over feeling resentment and jealousy towards this little guy who wouldn’t have a hope of realizing his talents if not for her trust and protection. Both of them unraveling the mystery of that sweet but bumbling kitchen boy with the obvious crush on Collette being Gusteau’s secret son, and working together to thwart the new evil owner’s plans to stop Linguini from claiming his birthright. The message of the movie not being this weird, almost smug “some people are born with talent, some people aren’t, and that’s how being a ~great artist~ works”, but something more like, “if you have a dream, you deserve to pursue it, and be supported and encouraged in your pursuit of it, even if other people tell you that, because of some intrinsic aspect of yourself or the circumstances you were born in (like being a human woman in the restaurant industry, or being a literal rat), you have no place pursuing this dream. Also, raw talent can only get you so far, and skill and passion existing in the right balance is key.” I’ve been thinking about this for seventeen years. I’m breaking my silence

[nooling]

LOOK I JUST REALLY ENJOY THEIR FRIENDSHIP OK?? You can't tell me they wouldn't hang after their respective personal quests (spawn ending ofc)/emotional breakdowns over their own mortality

EDIT: I forgot to watermark these so now more than ever PLEASE don't repost

[morganbritton132]

My sister and I have the same birthday and it’s cool because people will be like, “Oh, are you twins?” And I get to say, “No! I ruined a five year old’s birthday.”

[chloesimaginationthings]

Death looms over Vanny's shoulder in FNAF..

[canisalbus]

✦ Picciriddu ✦

[pacipinka]

*taps mic* is this thing on? Yeah okay so every vampire in the vampire chronicles is turned at critical a moment in their lives and beyond just the body they are in when they are turned, their mentality stays at that standstill for their entire immortality, Lestat was turned against his will, he was clinging onto Magnus begging him to be freed, so he’s constantly seeking freedom and only finding loneliness and thus turning back to people again and again, however he can’t STAND being told what to do, since he desires agency in his life so desperately, Armand was turned after years and years of abuse and lack of control but such a desire for genuine love, by a man he ���loved’ so wholly who he felt was barring his love from him, he needs control in his life, he needs a ‘master’ but he does not desire it, it does not fulfill him, he is trapped in a room but the door is unlocked! Louis was mourning his brother, he felt like an utter failure and so he’s always seeking family, seeking people he can care for, he can coddle, he can prove he is good too, but he loves people who either cannot stand coddeling and need a sense of looseness to live (Lestat) or people who grow out of coddling who prove to Louis he will always fail the people he loves (Claudia), Claudias turning, in many MANY ways mirrors lestats in that it was against her will, she was stolen from her home, and in her immortality she desires freedom but unlike Lestat does not have the agency/ form to get it, she will always be small, she will always be looked down on, even by Lestat who cannot deny how much she is just like him *taps mic* ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!! NONE OF THEM CAN BREAK THE CYCLE!!! TO BREAK IT WOULD BE TO UNDO THE VERY FIBER OF THEIR IMMORTAL SELVES!! THE CYCLE IS THE BLOOD THEY DRINK IT IS THE HEART IN THEIR CHEST AND IT ROLLS AND ROLLS DOWN THE MOUNTAINS AND VALLEYS OF THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER AND IT CAN NEVER BE STOPPED BECAUSE THEY WILL NEVER STOP LOVING EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!