#this is a real life crisis

[tvdtruther]

alright so a bit of a personal post that has nothing to do with tvdu but i need you guys’ opinion.

so basically, i’m non-binary she/her/they/them and my biological name hasn’t felt right in a very long time but i’m having difficulty choosing a new name.

what do i do???

[pandadrake]

Shots fired by the Spider-man sequels.

Was ruminating on how Miles and Miguel are technically both 'Spider-man 2' in their respective universes. Got me thinking about the other Spider-successors in the cast, and also what if they all got matching T-shirts or something.

[mipmoth]

When Ingo was sent through the time space distortion it left behind a ghost of his lost memories

[ehlihr]

im sure im not the first person to make this observation but it feels like someone designed dual destinies apollo and then constructed the plot backwards from the jacket and eyepatch. which is why clay feels like a jacket of a person. bc thats all he is really

[mumblesplash]

i always imagine scar as having scar tissue on the side of his face that pulls the edge of his mouth up slightly. not enough to look strained or uncanny, not enough to even realize that's what's happening unless you've spent a lot of time around him, but just enough so that it looks like he's constantly, always smirking a little bit

oh man so see this is Interesting, bc you honestly don’t need the scar tissue to even pull much to get this effect, just giving him a lip scar in the right place would make it look like he’s always slightly smiling

^tried to show what i mean here, literally nothing else about his expression is different between the two images, just that one tiny mouth scar

(imo a bigger scar there would actually affect his expression LESS than this, because eventually your brain goes ‘oh that’s not part of his mouth that’s something else’ and doesn’t register it as much)

[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.”

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 30

Danny became aware suddenly, the memory of his mothers parting shot as he fled fresh in his mind. He panicked, thrashing around in what felt like a thick liquid when his hand hit what felt like a wall of glass.

A tube? Was Danny floating in a freaking vat somewhere? He didn't remember anything after being shot down by his mom but he knew if he was in a lab somewhere he needed to escape!

In moments he was on the ground surrounded by wierd fluid and shattered glass. He ripped the oxygen mask off his face and threw it away from him as a violent shiver wracked his body.

Looking up he was surprised. He was expecting the bright shiney metal of his parents lab, or the white of the GIW lab, heck, even the wierd purple thing Vlad sometimes had going on would have made sense. As much as he would have hated to have been saved by the fruitloop, it would have been a familiar fight.

The devil you know and all that.

But no, this lab was all dull blacks, dark grays and inky shadows. The tubes around him bathing the atmosphere in a soft green glow that barely illuminated anything.

Great. Wonderful. Just what he needed. More people making more problems for him.

Danny picked himself up off the ground, shuttering again and was surprised to realize he didn't have any clothes on.

Danny decided that whoever had kidnapped him was going to get acquainted the Anti-creep stick. Luckly there was a closet nearby with what looked like a superhero costume in it. Okay. Hes dealt with weirder situations.

He put most of the suit on, leaving behind the cape, mask and chest straps. Danny had to admit he liked the red and black look. The gold was a nice touch...too...

Oh no. Where these supervillian clothes?! Red and black are totally Saturday morning cartoon villian colors! His mind started whirling, somthing that it doesn't usually do as he made his way over to the darkened computer almost by instinct.

Then he looked up.

There wasn't a lot of light in this place, but there was enough to see his reflection in the blackness of the computer monitor. One problem.

That wasn't his face.

He was as this strangers face twisted into confusion and horror. Was he overshadowing somebody? No. No...he was...Tim Drake? He watched as his reflection furrowed his brows.

No. He was Danny Fenton, son of Jack and Maddie Fenton. Local mad scientists.

But...he was Tim Drake, son of Jack and Janet Drake. Archeologists.

A distressed sound left his throat as he slid to the floor, two entire lifetimes flashing before his eyes as he tried to figure out what was real. He tried using his powers but nothing happened. That should have answered everything, right?

But that wouldn't explain how he had shattered the entirety of the thick glass of his tube prison. The glass had been completely shattered and landed in a circle around the tubes base in a way no punch could have done, no matter how powerful. Does he have powers that are simply unavailable right now or is there another explanation?

Either way he should probably wear a mask so people don't ask why Tim Drake is dressed as Red Robin, huh?

Oh god. Red Robin.

He woke up in a cloning pod in one of Red Robins secret labs! He remembered Jack, Maddie, other Jack, and Janet's treatment of him. He recalled each and every dismissive comment, every empty promise. Every time the bleachers were empty at his vollyball games. Every time he was left home alone for an "important" dig. Every time his parents ran off because a ghost might be nearby. Every time Tim would throw everything to the wayside to focus on a case. Every time Tim would throw away his own health and well being for a goal. Every time...

Danny straightened up and pulled himself off the floor before he started typing away at the computer and planning his next moves.

Regardless of what was happening, if he was Danny overshadowing a clone or if his life as Fenton was just a dream from a pod, he knew one thing for sure.

He did not need another neglectful parent.

Aka Danny runs around Gotham avoiding the bats, the press, the rogues, the petty criminals, the mob, and the police. He fails of course and manages to somehow make enemies out of everyone all while having a massive identity crisis and searching for a new home far far away from here before Tim Drake figures out who he really is...

[dykedvonte]

Something something perhaps the reason Curly lacks a truly undamaged ID where his face is visible is to represent how much damage Jimmy had already affected on him throughout their relationship and the way Curly obscured part of who he is and what he stood to unintentionally cater to this toxic influence in his life.

[vhentheneras]

me making my inquisitor when i was 15: yeah 25 is a totally mature and adequate age to lead a religious military organization

me now, 25yo: im so sorry babygirl u should have been at the club….

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

okay i know we talk about how Romana is absurdly young for a Time Lord but have we considered that she came back to Gallifrey after being in another universe for an undisclosed amount of time in a new body and everyone on Gallifrey just assumed that she regenerated after a respectable 1000 years like every other Time Lord. like sure it's a little weird to be unhooked from Gallifrey's continuity for that long but it's not unheard of. "i mean have you heard her speeches? she obviously has the maturity of someone who's been around for a millennium." "yeah i know 1000 is a little young to be President but all idealists are young, y'know?" and Romana just never bothers to correct anyone because admitting that she's only 300 would immediately tank her political career.

[breelandwalker]

I cannot wait

physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally

until the weather in my area

can once more be describe as

CRISP.

[phoenixcatch7]

In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.

But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.

Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.

His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.

And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.

From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.

[mainalias]

thinking about compiling screenshots of golden/silver age batman exclusively calling dick his ward to combat the allegations that it was “initially a father-child relationship”

[thegreatyin]

ive officially entered the stage of OC brainrot where i start putting him in outfits for fun and (zero) profit

[mistyscenter]

Don't get me wrong step 2 is about the teen angst about discovering yourself and how messy the world really is and how 14 is a bad age and an overall shitty experience....I also think more people should embrace the cringe side of being 14.

Teenagers are cringe, it is in their nature to be cringe,make your MCs cringe, draw Qiu and Tamarack being cringe, draw the rest of the gang being cringe because it is fundamental for teen development to be cringe.

Maybe not but... everyone is cringe at 14 lol make your MCs cringey teens

[shakingparadigm]

okay but seriously all jokes aside I really do understand ivan. like having a schedule so packed and busy is so insanely draining no matter how long you've conditioned yourself to endure it. sacrificing certain things like lunch or sleep just to gain the slightest bit more time for yourself is something that feels almost essential to keeping yourself together and not feeling like you're losing yourself in the cycle completely. it's like its own little act of rebellion in a way, something along the lines of you can drown me in work and monotony but I'll keep carving these little spaces of time for what little I have for myself, even if I have to carve them out of my own chest. I will sacrifice parts of myself to ensure that I don't fully succumb to whatever you're trying to make me into. I am human, this is the proof, I will make time even if it ruins me. you know?? yeah. you get it