#like what kind of nonsense is that?

[fellthemarvelous]

It pisses me off to see the way some Star Wars fans are so dismissive of Reva, Third Sister.

She's complex. She's interesting. She's clever. She's intelligent. She's strategic. She's conflicted. She's traumatized. She's scared. She's angry. She's a survivor.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi series literally opens with her and her friends watching one of her Jedi mentors get gunned down by clone troopers during Order 66.

She was a FUCKING CHILD!!! They were in the middle of a lesson when the clones walked in and started shooting everyone!! These were Anakin Skywalker's troopers and they were executing every single Jedi around them.

These children had NO idea what was going on. They were scared and they tried to run to safety.

We remember this scene from Revenge of the Sith and we all immediately knew what it meant.

These are the same bodies that Obi-Wan Kenobi found when he and Yoda returned to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant after having to kill so many of Anakin's clone troopers just to survive.

These are children that the Jedi Council wasn't there to save.

Palpatine snuffed out the light of the Jedi in one swift act of terrorism and then blamed the Jedi for their own genocide after taking over the entire galaxy.

And in times of war, the weakest among everyone always suffer the most.

This is what Reva, Jedi youngling, remembers most about the end of the Clone Wars.

Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars and former padawan of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, murdered all of her friends and injured her.

She had to play dead amongst the dead bodies of her friends, and that's how she survived. She witnessed Anakin Skywalker murder all the Jedi in the temple with no one there to stop him because the other Jedi Masters were being executed in a war they had never wanted to enter into in the first place.

She blames herself for not being able to save her friends because she wasn't strong enough to fight back. No youngling was ever going to be strong enough to stand against Anakin Skywalker. She wanted revenge against Anakin Skywalker, and she was just as desperate to get to Obi-Wan Kenobi as he was. She wanted to kill Anakin Skywalker just as badly as Darth Vader wanted to kill Obi-Wan.

She was alone in a galaxy that tortured and executed surviving Jedi. She spent ten years plotting her revenge against Anakin. She was angry at Obi-Wan for not being there to stop Anakin, and rightfully so.

The Republic fell. Reva and her friends were left unprotected. She was the only person she relied on because everyone else failed her. She was only a child when she lost everyone.

And it's clear she was conflicted by her role as an Inquisitor. She doesn't have the training the other Inquisitors do because she volunteered to be an Inquisitor while all the others were tortured and terrorized into falling to the dark side. She only wanted access to Anakin so she could get justice for what he did to her and her family.

Unlike Anakin, Reva couldn't find it in herself to harm a child. She was seeking revenge solely against Anakin Skywalker. Luke and Leia are the same age she was when she watched her friends and family die in front of her.

Yes, she was prepared to torture Leia, but she consistently hesitated, and when Tala walked in, Reva turned away. She stopped. Yeah she was mad, but she didn't have to go through with it. She'd already planted a tracker on Lola. She was already planning on allowing them to escape so she could locate their secret base. She just needed to bait Obi-Wan. Her plan worked perfectly, and she didn't even have to hurt this child who was annoying the shit out of her (not realizing she was dealing with Anakin Skywalker's offspring).

She went to Tatooine to kill Luke, but she couldn't. She hunted him down without bothering to kill Owen or Beru. She only cared about one thing. Getting justice for what happened to everyone she had been unable to save at the end of the war. She was only a child, and when she realized she was about to kill a defenseless child just to get revenge, she couldn't do it. She saw her face when she looked down at Luke and cried when she realized she couldn't do it.

She was so horrified by what she had been prepared to do and returned him to Owen and Beru alive. She fell to her knees and sobbed because she thought she failed her family in the end.

Obi-Wan was there for her this time. He reminded her that by showing mercy, she was giving her friends and family peace. She was not going to become the monster that Anakin Skywalker was.

Obi-Wan helped her and reminded her that she gets to decide who she wants to be from this point forward. She refused to become Anakin Skywalker, and a weight was finally starting to be lifted from her shoulders. A weight she had been carrying for ten long years.

She did what she thought she had to just to survive. She had only been a child with no guidance because everyone she loved died. She survived by joining the ranks of the enemy so she could plot her revenge. Obi-Wan showed her mercy at the moment she needed it most. He wasn't angry with her. He was compassionate. She survived Order 66 just like he did, but she had been defenseless when they were thrust into a galaxy that tortured and killed Force sensitive individuals and those who helped them. He had failed Reva during Order 66, and he wasn't going to fail her this time.

She is getting a second chance at finding her path in life despite the bad things she did. Everyone deserves a second chance. She was robbed of her childhood and had to grow up overnight. She had to learn how to survive. And that's exactly what she did. Just not in the way she expected.

[blackkatdraws2]

I have a lot of leftover drawings in my gallery. [Blank Scripts AU]

[Content Warning: Images below contain Gore, Death, and Disturbing/Uncomfortable Imagery]

I find it a bit cute knowing they start out as crazy and then slowly settle into something calmer and relatively healthier after learning to adapt to each other's lust-turned-love. [Stanley did it first but hey :3]

[sforzesco]

AKHENATEN

uhhh let's see. I combined some sketches I did of Nefertiti and Akhenaten and ended up somewhere here for an Akhenaten design. in my heart, it's for a comic but there's so much visual research I'd have to do before I could even think about approaching a comic. oof.

anyway moving on: Akhenaten was a childhood obsession! and then I moved onto other things, as one does, but then a couple months ago I decided to check out some books and now I have a headache.

Akhenaten, Ronald T. Ridley

[yaralulu]

Tamlin being really into bugs is very real to me.Like not only is he well versed in plants and flowers but he also knows the name of every bug known to man and whenever he finds something especially cool looking the first person he’s immediately showing is lucien.Lucien’s usual reaction is “???? please get that thing away from me” but who can really say no to those dazzling big green eyes 🤷.

Tamlin particularly loves presenting lucien with the weirdest looking bugs ever and telling him “this one looks like you 😄”.

[virescent-v]

Drabble? 🥹

Goldilocks

Summary: Emily looks at you from across the bar. Warnings: none :) Word count: 875

Thirties and Flirties Lesbian night at Goldilocks was either a hit or miss. There could be a smattering of available and “normal” women to mingle with, or it could be a hodgepodge of people who were taken, weird, or timid that just didn’t mesh with the vibe you were after. 

To be fair, you weren’t sure what you were after. 

You just knew that being alone was weighing heavily on you. You were ready to settle down, sure, but you wouldn’t be opposed to a friends with benefits situation either. 

Apparently, it was the company that you were after. 

Sitting at the bar, a cold drink in hand, you did your routine of gazing around the bar. You started at the door, trying to catch anyone new walking in, then made your way to the dance floor, looking at bodies of all shapes and sizes grinding against each other. Shaking your head at some of the desperation oozing from some of them, you cast your eyes to the various tables scattered on the right side of the dance floor. Most people were already coupled or grouped up. 

However, at the last table closest to the bar, and already looking at you, was an absolutely breathtaking brunette. 

Her hair was almost black, eyes just as dark. She was wearing a tight, black dress, the neckline square across her collarbones. It showed just enough cleavage to be tantalizing, but nowhere near as scandalous as some of the other dresses being worn tonight. Her makeup was smokey, bringing out the deep colors of her eyes. She had one hand resting on her hip and the other was toying with the rim of her glass. 

Trailing your eyes from the heels on her feet to her face, you realized that those deep eyes were already watching you. When you finally made eye contact, the brunette tilted her head far to the right, a small smile appearing. 

You felt something warm grow deep in the pit in your stomach. A shiver of excitement rolls up your spine and the hairs on your arms stand up. A way for your body to prepare you for the storm of the woman to (hopefully) approach you. 

Turning back to the bar, you order another drink and get the bartender to make whatever she was drinking. 

When the bartender passed the two drinks to you, you felt a light brush of fingers on your upper arm. “Any chance that’s for me?” 

Looking over your shoulder, you almost gasped. She was even more beautiful up close. You found yourself getting lost in the details of her; long eyelashes, a sculpted nose, full lips. Every trace of your eyes over her skin brought new details that you tried to memorize. 

Cooling yourself, you smiled, turning towards her. “Sure is. How’d you know?” You handed her the drink. 

She smiled as she took a small sip. You were enraptured by how her lips curled around the rim of the glass. You imagined them wrapped around yours, how soft they would feel moving with yours. 

“I had a hope,” Emily said, dragging her eyes up your form. “I haven’t seen you at Goldilocks before.” 

You made a noncommittal noise. “Interesting. I come here often. Do you?” 

Emily smiled, shrugged. “When work allows.” She took another sip of her drink before placing the cup down on the bar. “Excuse me if I’m being a little forward, but would you like to dance?” 

Placing your drink down beside hers, you extend your hand, which she happily takes before dragging you out into the middle of the floor. 

You can feel the deep bass thumping within your chest, instantly drowning out any further conversation. Your heart beat starts to match the pulsating music, the pulsating of bodies around you. 

Emily drags you towards her, bringing your arms around her neck, effectively slotting your hips against hers. It makes your breath catch. 

You both start to move with the beat of the music, keeping eye contact that grows heavier with each passing moment. As the songs blend and mesh into the background of your thoughts, Emily’s hands begin to wander, rubbing up and down your back, around your arms. 

As the sweat builds on your bodies and your quickened breath mingles together, the tension rises and rises. There’s almost no discernable space between you two, your noses brushing. 

Just as the tension almost reaches its zenith, a passerby in the crowd bumps into you, forcing you off balance, making you almost fall to the ground. 

Before you tumble fully, warm, strong arms embrace you, hauling you back upright. Brushing hair out of your face, Emily’s eyes track over you. “Are you alright?” 

You blush deeply, embarrassed at such a moment. “Thanks to you.” 

Emily smiles before her eyes search the crowd for the person responsible. Having lost them in the sea of people, her dark eyes turn to you. “Want to move somewhere more quiet? There’s a late night cafe open next door.” 

You tilt your head down, tucking more hair behind your ear, bashful. Looking up from under your lashes, your cheeks heat again. “Yes, please.” 

Emily smirks, grabs your hand, before dragging you towards the front door of the club. 

[beastlyidiocy]

I

^ i care about this scribble deeply . He he ehehe hehe

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

[katabay]

so. I have never. actually finished watching s2 of reunion. we're fixing that! slowly but surely, I'm going to finish s2 and not get sidetracked by anything, like watching ultimate note.

starting this off with some portrait sketches of liu sang and er jing :)

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[mayordea]

“go on, praise me like a god!”

[stellar-collective]

Due to the inherent secrecy of spy work, Agent Phoenix rarely got thanked. Sure, on their occasional visits to Agency headquarters, the newer spies would gawk and the older spies would give them a slap on the back and a “nice work not being dead yet!” but Ollie’s sincerity caught them a bit off guard.

first ~ prev ~ next

now that Ollie’s in the know, i wonder what’ll happen next…

[hanzajesthanza]

(Adam Dudaczyk) The fact that vampires drink blood to get that *meaningful hand-neck gesture* - you made that up? (Andrzej Sapkowski) Yes, I didn't model myself on anyone here, I don't know anyone who wrote before me about the fact that vampires drink blood not to satisfy their hunger, but to satisfy their thirst for… entertainment. Texts: the guys sent me to get blood, I was flying drunk… The fun was great.

as i reread this i couldn't stop thinking of this meme

[quatregats]

Something I've been thinking about is how Patrick O'Brian manages so skillfully to write characters whose actions contradict their beliefs, which I think is honestly a big part of why his characters feel so real. Mostly with Stephen and Jack—e.g., and perhaps most notably, Stephen has notably leftist sympathies (honestly I have no idea how to characterize his politics in period terms) who nonetheless becomes very comfortable with his rise to the landed gentry, while Jack is a card-carrying Tory who much of the time sympathizes far more with working class sailors and farmers than with the upper classes—but I'm sure he does it to a lesser degree with some of his minor characters (James Dillon, while perhaps not precisely minor, comes to mind), and I love that he's able to do that, especially the way in which he embeds it in the narrative. We see how they're all unreliable narrators of themselves; we understand how they want to be seen and how that does and doesn't coincide with the reality, but most importantly, this isn't presented as something reprehensible, just as a part of their own humanity. They are not their expectations for themselves, but they don't need to be those expectations to be beloved.

[heroesriseandfall]

I think if a fanfic says Cass is in Hong Kong the writer should be obligated to explain exactly why she is in Hong Kong and the answer cannot be “I didn’t bother learning anything about her so I shoved her in HK to avoid writing her.”

[sciderman]

i opened tumblr during lunch and the first thing i saw was peter parker britney spears. two of my friends stared at my phone and audibly went “oh” thank you for the blessing

i've had so many people tell me "sci. the only thing i know about you is spider-man and britney spears". and i think that's all there is. you're welcome.

[fromtheseventhhell]

The way fandom keeps flip-flopping between Arya's age is so weird. One minute she's too old to experience trauma, the next minute she's too young for crushes and romance. Like jeez fandom, make up your own damn mind.

I've been saying that a lot of people don't consider Arya an actual character, and the inconsistent takes about her are one of the best examples. People just want her to exist as a prop to support their fanon so they don't bother doing any analysis (a lot of them don't even bother reading her chapters). They'll just say whatever depending on the conversation. They hate empathizing with her, so they adultify her; They hate the idea of her having a romance, so they infantilize her. No consistency or logic...just vibes and the desire to reduce her character. It's like them claiming she has masculine privilege but then insisting she has to leave Westeros to be "free" since she's non-conforming. Or that she's a feral wild child who can't control herself while also claiming she's a cold-hearted, calculating assassin.

They're so obsessive about it too. They can't just dislike her character and not talk about her, they need to erase basically everything about her story. It really boils down to them liking her story elements but not being able to project onto her, so they steal her traits for their fanon!fave. It's wild we have to see their nonsense takes because they can only "enjoy" the story after they've rewritten it. At this point it won't even stop if we get TWOW; I can already foresee the "George stole [x]'s story to give to Arya because he hates feminine women" takes lol

[fallow-grove]

"autism will ruin your marriage" but taken to a different conclusion. autism so sexy ur spouse cant stop makin eyes at me. autism so charming bitches cant resist the way i posture like a wild animal