#night of 1000 tags

[indigozeal]

Eternal Blue art from Kitsune Wazatsuma's doujinshi Sataan ga Ippai (Lots of Saturn).

[bexsbelts]

BECKY LYNCH monday night raw - nov 6, 2023

[poke-poke-poke]

.

it was originally going to be a winter scene - but i couldn't get the colours to look right,,

[tarraxahum]

free runner

[thought-42]

It strikes her at the oddest moments. There's a fairy in her bed. There’s a fairy in her bed and he has to set an alarm or he'll over sleep, wake up petulant and confused and rubbing grime out of his eyes. He takes so long to wash his hair. He takes sugar in his coffee and sometimes when she's stirring it in she remembers old stories about tiny creatures on the edge of flowers,  sipping nectar, or grandmothers who left out milk and honey for their "good neighbours". He has an apartment downtown with a landlord who refuses to fix the icebox and he doesn't know a single cooling spell. He has terrible taste in genre fiction and there's a selfish gremlin part of her that wants to pull him out of the story into reality and hold him down, hold him in one shape until it sticks. His autograph is illegible and it takes her a long time to realize why. Names have power and he wasn’t raised stupid. ...There's a distinct possibility he doesn't know the name he gave himself is misspelled and she's certainly not going to tell him. He gives her his true name one night, late, when they're sitting at the top of the waterfall tipsy on someone else's expensive wine and witnessed only by the stars and the moons --he has opinions about that second moon, too, don't get him started-- and he turns to her and says it as simple as anything. "That's me. That's my name. You're the only other person who knows it, at this point." It feels like a gift. It feels like a responsibility she can never set down, and at the time she can't imagine ever wanting to. (years later she'll tell herself she resents it, but she's never been good at lying) He gives her another name, too, on paper this time. One to use, one to keep. He trips over a loose stone in the street because he's too busy talking to a gaggle of fans, charm and sparkle and it's stupid, it's disgusting, but she's here, isn't she? She catches him before he can fall and doesn't let go. His bones aren't hollow but sometimes it feels like they should be. There is something at her very core, something rough and hardened and unpolished that says "I will always keep you safe". He forgets, sometimes --or maybe he doesn't-- to slip that thin mask of mortality back into place. In a lot of ways he's closer than she is except for the ways he isn't, will never be, will always remain other. In those moments she feels closer to him and further from him than she ever does. Changelings in the stories were children stolen away and replaced by a child too strange, too quiet, too focused, too sensative, too everything or not enough, maybe. Laerryn reads the stories and sees mirrors and mirrors reflecting back at her through history. Always too much or not enough. Changelings, both of them. Easier, she supposes, to blame the Fae. She certainly does every time they're out of milk.

[the-kipsabian]

[cuteniarose]

who's lien-hua??

Short answer: My absolute child and the only OC I have cried genuine, REAL tears over. And not tearing up or sniffling a little, full on SOBS. Kat still owes me emotional compensation for that one 😤😤

Long answer: She's one of @katkastrofa’s OCs that I now have partial custody of. P'Li's little sister, born in 136 AG, a sweet cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure, no matter how damn overused that phrase is, it still fits her 🥺🥺🥺 When drawing her last year I accidentally made her look a lot like my friend's little sister so now I am always extra soft about her. But considering what happens, you can imagine the level of emotional devastation this is causing me and just how much this has affected my ability to look at Katya the same way ever again. Doesn't help that her older sister has an annoying tendency to wear her waist length hair in a brushed back braid...

Anyway, for reference, the baby girl, sweet girl herself, from about July 2023:

And now that you have been fully taken with this precious thing's cuteness, it is imperative I let you know that she is killed at age 7 by the warlord who tried to turn P'Li into a living weapon 😐

She's the living embodiment of a tragedy, a child born to be collateral damage, the one who could not be saved no matter what was done, the "it was always going to end this way" half of the tragedy dichotomy. A little girl unjustly killed as punishment for her sister not wanting to become a warlord's weapon, forever remaining as nothing more but a hazy memory of someone to protect. And I'm gonna stop now because I will start crying again, istg–

(There is a verse where she lives, though that is part of a much larger AU that can basically be summed up as "completely self indulgent mishmash of ideas, everybody lives/nobody dies, sunshine and rainbows and peace on earth, unless you're a world leader, then RIP", or as we like to call it, the Ultimate AU, because we never came up with a better name :P But getting into it would take too long and there really isn't too much to explain since it lacks a cohesive plot and is more a bunch of family shenanigans thrown together, so... moving on)

In Kat's fic Lost and Found the memory of Lien-Hua is the driving force behind all of P'Li's decisions, and she constantly blames herself for not having been able to save her (despite the fact she was a child herself, no older than 13), right up until the very end where she.. doesn't really get closure, per se, but is able to let Lien go, in the scene which I have affectionately dubbed "F.C. Yee owes Kat major royalties for this one, holy hell" #ifyouknowyouknow. But also Lien is a point of some interpersonal conflict since no one else can quite relate to P'Li in this case. Ming-Hua (while not present in LaF) is an only child, Zaheer is the youngest of three and was never close with his sisters, and Ghazan... well, his sister is two separate cans of worms depending on whether you're talking about Haya or Zada. Some pretty interesting stuff overall, really scratches my soft spot for family related dealings in fics, and I can't believe I just realised that P'Li's the only non-youngest child in the RL foursome, huh. It's oddly fitting, in a way, at least in my opinion

Oh, and also, Midori is a reincarnation of Lien-Hua :)

[seithr]

scientists are calling the situation "like if cortana sucked and was a gay knight"

[bumblingbabooshka]

I think Tuvok and Neelix should have become riddle buddies. Like they’re just always tossing riddles back and forth idly when they see each other (Tuvok’s are surprisingly easy if you’re knowledgeable in the subject they’re about - Neelix’s are easy for everyone who isn’t Tuvok.) 

[indigozeal]

Apropos of nothing, Nei, Luna, and other 16-bit-era gaming characters from Akari Funato’s doujinshi Jam Jar.

[dubiousdisco]

Woah Romário video...

[iguessitsjustme]

I have regrets

[howthesleeplesswander]

baizhu in his character teaser rEALLY BE OUT HERE LIKE—

does something about this prescription...

-ACTIVATES LILTING VOICE-

-MAXIMIZES BEDROOM EYES-

-STRETCHES ARMS BACK WITH HANDS IN HIS HAIR-

...displease you?

asdfkdfjdks i'm screaming howling foaming at the mouth gOD PLEASE JUST BECOME PLAYABLE ALREADY, I NEED MY DENDRO DOCTOR BABYGIRL IN MY LIFE ASDKFLD

[alteredsilicone]

and I love that for him

[thought-42]

Never expect to be sure who you're working for

Star Wars, 1200 words, Ezra Bridger

Everybody gets one free evil!au, right?

Or: The factory scene in 3X10 in a universe where Thrawn recruited Ezra before he ever got a chance to meet the Ghost crew.

Thrawn had told Ezra what he was planning to do before they'd even gone into the factory. He'd left Pryce and Kallus in the dark (doubtless wanted to see if Kallus would betray himself, and possibly just wanted to fuck with Pryce) but he still likes to treat these sorts of situations as teaching moments for Ezra. Or, a tiny voice in the back of his head that sounds a lot like Eli Vanto says, he's hoping Ezra will tell him if he's going too far.

Today is not that day.

Ezra's not exactly on palling-around terms with most of the stormtroopers, but he'd known both of the guys assigned to chase down Azadi the previous night, had shared meals with them in the mess after exhausting campaigns and knew them well enough to say 'hi' when they passed in the corridor. And as Thrawn pointed out -- they'd already investigated the plant where the components of the motors were built, and there have been no changes. If there was no sabotage, the motor simply wouldn't overheat, and the worker pulled out of line would have a weird story to tell his friends. If Thrawn was right and the speeder bike exploded, then-- well. You reap what you sow.

Ezra's not expecting to recognize the guy they pull out of line, admittedly. And recognize might be a strong word, it's not like he can put a name to the face. But there's definitely a sense of familiarity, of a half-remembered moment from his early childhood. Ezra does him the respect of meeting his gaze right up until he dies.

Which is why it takes him so long to clock that the guy who had been next to him in line is a fucking Force user. And a trained one. So much for his god damn situational awareness, apparently. If Thrawn asks, he was just biding his time to mention it.

Everyone around him is radiating horror and distress (except Pryce who feels smug satisfaction in the grossest way possible, and Thrawn who is basically fully dissociated at this point beyond a dull sense of calm, methodical intent) so Ezra's maybe not as chill about it as he could be when he stalks down the line without even exchanging a look with Thrawn to get his go-ahead.

"You," he says, jerking his head at the Force user. He keeps his hands clasped behind his back, in an embarrassing mirroring of Thrawn that he hopes he's gonna grow out of one day.

The Force user feigns confusion. Somewhere behind him, Kallus's anxiety spikes hard, an ice pick against Ezra's right temple. ‘Yeah. Panic about it, asshole.’ Ezra wonders spitefully if getting to know the Empire's resident alien along with his Wild Space yokel and backwater Loth rat was what opened Kallus' fancy Core World eyes to the shit the Empire pulled.

The Force user holds up his hands. "Hey, kid, I'm new here. I haven't even assembled anything yet."

Ezra can feel Thrawn watching him. 'Yeah, Mitth'raw'nuruodo, I found something interesting. This is why you don't send your pet sky-walker off into the great unknown to train a bunch of Chiss kids. Imagine if I weren't here to do all your work for you? Bad enough that Eli agreed to go.'

This guy's still standing in front of Ezra, trying to bullshit his way out of the interaction and doing a kind of terrible job at it. Ezra thinks back on the stuff that Maul has been teaching him --the stuff Thrawn doesn't know about-- and decides it's time to do a little experimenting. He reaches out beyond himself, lets the shields that keep his mind contained ease open.

This is another thing he's been working on with Maul. The grand total of three weeks he'd been able to stomach with the Inquisitorious when Thawn had given him the option to join them at age thirteen had mostly consisted of everybody yelling about using your fear and anger and hate like fuel to better manifest  the Emperor’s great and bloody five-year-plan, and not a single thing about how to get the world to shut the hell up for ten minutes so he could get some rest. Thrawn's response to Ezra getting overwhelmed is to chuck him in a sensory deprivation pod, which is done with the best of intentions but still feels a little bit like dying every time. Maul is the first person willing to teach Ezra how to reach out past his natural shields without dropping them entirely.

The Force user's mind is well-shielded,  used to tucking themselves down smaller and smaller and begging not to be noticed. Ezra spent the years between ages seven-twelve doing the exact same thing.

It means he knows just what to look for.

Kanan. Caleb? No. Kanan. Jedi, maybe. Holy shit. Kanan, maybe Jedi, resentfully sober, terrified, angry, worried.

Ezra tucks himself around Kanan's mind and nudges past his shields and soothes that first jolt of panic as Kanan's legs start walking without his command.

“Not like a puppet on strings,” Maul had told him. “Any idiot can force the body to move as if it were an object. More like slaving one ship to another. The body knows how to move. You simply must tell it to do so.”

Ezra crosses back across the factory floor to Thrawn and the others, and Kanan follows obediently behind him. There's a ringing in Ezra's ears that he's pretty sure is Kanan's fear. He doesn’t look back at him. He doesn’t need to.

Thrawn holds up a hand as Ezra draws closer. Ezra comes to a halt, dipping his head in respectful acknowledgement. Something wet touches his upper lip. He can hear Kanan's laboured breathing behind him. He digs his nails into his palms behind his back, and waits.

"No one in or out of this factory," Thrawn tells Kallus. "I wish to inspect everything, and I will speak with each of the workers individually."

"Sir," Kallus says.

Pryce opens her mouth to say something, but Thrawn’s already walking away from her. Ezra automatically gives her an apologetic little shrug. Smoothing over Thrawn’s social slips is admittedly kind of mean, but it makes people like Ezra more, makes them feel like they’ve got a little thread of secret understanding. At the end of the day, everything Ezra does is about building connections.

The floor wobbles a little bit. Huh.

"Bridger," Thrawn says, not looking back. "With me. Bring your new friend."

Ezra starts walking, but it's suddenly a lot harder than it should be. He feels like he's seeing double, but in his whole body.

Please stop.

Kanan's voice in his head is a lot nicer than hearing it out loud. Less obnoxious, fewer falsehoods. The ringing in his ears is getting worse.

Don't do this.

Ezra can smell cooking meat from where the not-quite-a-stranger had been killed by his own sabotage. unbidden, the blueprints for Stardust well up behind the back of his eyelids. He's been dreaming of watching Lothal burn. He's been dreaming of burning along with it.

He tightens his jaw, straightens his back. Keeps walking.

Kanan doesn't ask him to stop again.

[lightcreators]

@familyname continue from here

Lucius has the slightly absurd instinct to correct his language. Draco is an aristocrat, the scion of the Malfoy family - he should speak according to his station and nothing less. His lips still turn down, even as he doesn’t have the heart to berate Draco for his language. The pain and exhaustion still sits in the back of his head. And the anger.

Draco is barely a Malfoy anymore. He’s a traitor. Lucius can’t forget that.

“Not everyone can be bribed,” Lucius says. His own father started taking him to the Ministry at fifteen - at that age he was too preoccupied with his own matters and had no desire to implicate his son in his criminal actions. A long shot that paid off. Draco will have to learn from his mother. “You cannot control an entire system. You can only put pressure on the right places. You have to find the right people.” With the Ministry overhauling in favor of the Order, it will be even more difficult.

Lucius is caught in the hopelessness of it. He cannot teach Draco what he knows. There is no time, no way, there is only weak words that can be overheard if the wrong person walks by.

“You will not be a king. You will never be. Don’t try to be,” Lucius says. Words his father spoke to him, years and years ago. His father was older than he is now. Older than he will ever be. Lucius paces, catches himself in his tracks, feels his own terror root him in place. Draco is all he has left and Draco has betrayed him. Lucius is damned.

“Forget about revenge. Just survive.” Lucius cannot look him in his face. At least he will not be alive to see his son betray him in every word and deed for the rest of his life.

Temporary, he managed to push behind everything who happened … slight action he never achieved to reach during an entire year, slight desire he cannot touch meanwhile he had been embraced by complete hopelessness . It won't last. It can't last. Regardless how much he could searching comfort inside an comfortable denial, or even pretending nothing of terrible circumstances he was actually experienced actually happening, he cannot undone to had removed himself an prorective veil of delusions. Besides, something changed from course of their conversation. He wasn't interested anymore to win a childish game against his father. He wasn't interested anymore to play an game fullfilled of illusions … If he truly desired to be honest, he wouldn't even care about the future of the wizarding world. Whatever posterity of the wizarding world will came from his own mood … Besides, for embracing another layer of entire sincerity towards his inner feelings --- by the moment he had to check up a promise that could be broken at any moment, the wizarding world asked to be eaten by the underground !

An disagreement gaze exposed an opposite opinion about his father remembrance. There was still a way, hidden far away in the shadows, when no one could refuse him. There were some guys that would be so happy to bring destruction and terror in middle of the wizarding world, where absolutely no one could save them. There was still an option to dealing with another devil, in which, he was perfectly aware, he will never be able to let go. During one year, he did nothing. During one year, he wasn't emotionally in state to track down all the things the press say about him, to correcting every kind of terrible reputation he got --- nevertheless, hungry for revenge, hungry for blood, he would making them pay for every unfortunate words they had written. Giving all the red truth he craved so much gutting them alive second by second to receive all satisfaction of playback. If it's wasn't counter productive, he would galdy torturing some Death Eater inside his prison, and showing to his father becoming that terrible terror in the shadows would be easy. He learned well from the Dark Lord after all, why not bring all his knoweldge in an inner conquest ! It had been an informative question, an curious sentence who had to leave his lips. His father didn't believed it was possible. His father didn't believed revolution was possible. His father ddin't believed he could controlling an entire system. For once, he managed not to react on the matter.

Everyone can be brided. Everyone can be corrupted. Everyone was something to blame. Everyone had secrets. Everyone had little corners of truths they didn't want to be exposed. Simply, he didn't learned enough how to get such qualified skills on that domain … Simply, he always have been mentally too kind for daring starting touch the heart directly --- ❝ Fine. ❞ He finally expressed in a tone which expressed a half renunciation, which was faked. He would need to control everything inside the chessboard of the wizarding world … Thinking about how to have pressure points everywhere, and be enough invisible and oppressive for remaining something others wizards cannot deny … For a short mental instant, he remembered this was new conditions of his hell, of that endless hell that will not end … He cannot anticipate his reaction where he will learn his father's death, however, depending how much he had advanced inside his little domination project, he might be clement. Not requesting all the wizarding world blood in retrubition because the Ministry just wanted a pool of blood. ❝ I will do that then, and cheerfully perpetuate my name in family traditions. ❞ It had been an fruitless wish, nevertheless, mere fact he had been trying his move generated an silent contentement. Perspective changed : if his father, regardless how much he loved him and accepted to be an sacrifice for compromise of the wizarding world, didn't perceived him as a member of his own family and remained the traitor … he just had to show him what a Malfoy he was, forcing him to recognize him as king. Such words … such discouraging words cannot reach his heart. It was too late for that. He decided to becoming the king a long time ago, and becoming supposed sacrifice of circumstances --- Crown of an Dark Lord already had been eaten, in which he take blame partially, it was too late. ❝ I just have to prove you wrong. ❞ He expressed calmy. He wasn't going to speak about the Dark Lord, it was a very bad idea. Would only awakening fire between them and how much he wasn't his son anymore, where he would had wished to have kill the Dark Lord himself … ❝ A wide shining crown is just higher to reach, but being the ones responsible for their careless choice, a thief must well devour them. ❞ Composed tone noticed.

It was following sentences who catch up him off-guard, regardless about not be looked at. Without revenge, he won't have lived that far … Revenge had been the essence that had allowed him to live a semblance of existence for a few years, where once emptied, reason for his existence escaped him. Despair eating him instead, doomed every nook of hope, gently breaking his will to something, breaking his will to live … and he had just received a new dose of gasoline ! ❝ Apart from revenge, would I have something else to hold on to in order to survive ? ❞ These two sentences, he had heard them time and time and time again from Potter lips who didn't wanted him to break apart. These two sentences, he heard them more than he could count. For what finality, for what ? There was no hope at the end of the road. He would be murdered one day and it was impossible he was experiencing normality as he should be. Create a family, be loved ? It was mere dreams. It was delusions at this point. Without revenge, he had no reason to keep going … Nevertheless, it remained another informative question.