#why did i not see this anywhere

[mo0nchhild]

[art-is-kayos]

A Hypothetical.

[visionsynth]

please ignore his boobs but i did like how this doodle came out

[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.”

[trashasaurusrex]

(fake) screenshots from Gizney's Phantom of the Opera, made by me, starring my lesbian OCs

[kanansdume]

I've recently been watching these very interesting Star Wars video essays on YouTube (yeah I know, a rare breed) and it brings up these comments Lucas has made about how he views Star Wars as almost like a silent film in terms of how important the visuals are to him in comparison to the dialogue. But this essay also points out how important Lucas finds all of the "rhyming" moments in his trilogies and the way he utilizes them to remind you of something else for emotional or thematic reasons. And there's so many of them, both in visuals and in dialogue, and it's interesting to consider how important this is to him, the repetition for a purpose as well as the storytelling through visuals above everything else and then to look at Star Wars since the Prequels came out and realize how little has really been able to match up to those ideals since then.

The ONLY thing that's come out since the Prequels that I think really hits these two things the same way is, in fact, Andor. One of the things I noticed about the way people discussed Andor as it was airing in a way I haven't really seen for any of the other shows or films was the visual SYMBOLOGY. So many times I saw people noticing the Imperial cog everywhere, from the aerial shot of Narkina 5 as the prisoners escape to the architecture of Mon Mothma's house. There were people picking up on the use of items in Luthen's shop that are familiar from other things to give this idea that Luthen is from another time, he's attempting to preserve this world he lost, that if you're not looking closely enough you won't notice what he's really saying or doing with this shop. The color choices for the different locations and people got analyzed because the people involved spoke about how they intentionally utilized color to SEND A MESSAGE about the characters and the world. We know that the people who made the costumes and sets really worked hard to treat Star Wars almost like a period drama and study the history of the franchise as if it were a real place so that the things they came up with felt like they belonged in this world everyone knows so well even if it's completely new. And of course there were all of the myriad references to things from Rogue One, the constant repetition of "climb", the sunset on the beach, etc.

Nearly EVERY SHOT in this show was created with so much intention behind it in order to say something meaningful about the characters, the world, this specific story they're in, and the overall saga of Star Wars itself. It's insane how much greater impact this show was able to achieve through the incredibly careful usage of visual symbols and thematic repetitions, much like Lucas did before them. It feels like they didn't just study the history of the galaxy far far away, but they studied the history of STAR WARS and what Lucas was trying to do and say with this story. They peeled back his onion a bit more and were able to create something that really has that same visual feel even when it's not created for a child audience. It also is experimenting with its narrative style through its structure and through Cassian's character being allowed to be somewhat more reactive than proactive, and while that didn't work for everyone, it does feel like it's following in Lucas's footsteps of experimentation through Star Wars. Push the boundaries of what Star Wars is and can be and what you can say with it.

But this only works because they peeled the onion back enough to TRULY understand all of the messages Lucas was sending with it. They got the heart of Star Wars and despite its lack of space wizards, despite the lack of most major characters in the Saga, this was a show that honestly got the message more than just about anything else Star Wars has put out since the Prequels. The choices between selflessness and selfishness, the themes about how you always HAVE to make a choice even when it feels like you don't have any (sometimes ESPECIALLY when it feels like you don't have any), and how important it is to make sure to choose the path of compassion above everything else. The themes of connection to others, the symbiotic circle and the impact even the smallest person can have on world around them, it's RIGHT THERE and it's CENTRAL to Andor's storyline.

So yes, it experiments a little with narrative structure, but it's possibly the most Star Wars thing to exist Revenge of the Sith because it honestly truly GETS what Star Wars was about, both in its themes and in its filmmaking. A lot of people said that Andor didn't feel like Star Wars to them, usually because of the lack of space wizards and the fact that it's not a story aimed at children. But to me, Andor is EXACTLY what Star Wars is and has always been. They're stretching the boundaries of what Star Wars can be, but it's saying the exact same things Star Wars has always said, it's just saying it slightly differently. This doesn't feel like fanfiction to me, not really. Unlike things like the Mandoverse or the books, Andor isn't just taking some of the toys out of the sandbox and going to play with them somewhere else. Andor is IN that sandbox. It's building a slightly different sandcastle, but it's still within the sandbox, using the same sand that Lucas did.

[seabeck]

I looked up the hard Mountain Dew online on their website and apparently it’s not sold in my state wtf.

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

woke: thinking drawing the mages weapons is hard

woke: thinking drawing the mages bodies and clothes is hard

woke: thinking drawing the mages hair is hard someone please for the love of god give me a tutorial this isnt a joke im suffering so hard someone help

[daily-kagami]

Day #78: Movie-goers

[xxlady-lunaxx]

She really didn’t want to kill. As much as she knew how horrible demons were, she didn’t know if she could bear to kill. It would be horrible, wouldn’t it? They had been humans once, after all. Maybe they could still feel. Maybe they would be in pain as they died. And they didn’t deserve any of this! None of them had asked to become the monsters they had! It was all so terrible. But she had to do this—she wanted to join. It wasn’t really just about getting a boyfriend (albeit it would be a nice bonus), not anymore. Not after she had seen a Demon Slayer in action—the terror in her own body as she cowered from the demon. She had been alone at the time so nobody had gotten hurt. But the determination in the Slayer’s eyes and their kindness when they helped her to her feet made her want to do this, she wanted to join. But now, despite finally making it to the final test, she was having second thoughts. Could she really do it?

She was antsy with nerves, bouncing from one foot to the other in a nervous habit, fidgeting with her katana handle. For once, at least, she wasn’t worrying about what people might be thinking of her strange hair, so that was a plus! Maybe.

She glanced around, feeling slightly reassured to see the same nervousness rippling throughout her companions. She approached one person—another girl with hip-length black hair and dark eyes that flicked anxiously around. Offering her a quick smile, Mitsuri tried making small talk, wanting to both sooth the girl and herself. The girl seemed hesitant to speak at first but eventually melted into the conversation, mostly keeping her part up with nods and gentle hums of assent—which was fine, Mitsuri was talking a lot now, calming now that she didn’t feel completely alone.

A couple minutes later, two young girls appeared at the gate that entered the wisteria cage of Final Selection. They spoke in unison, words not relatively loud yet echoing in the small space where only muted conversation was all anyone could muster. They explained the rules of the test, how it lasted a week and the ones that came out alive by the end were the ones that passed. This encouraged titters of concern through the crowd but they continued, unfazed. After finishing their short speech, they parted, leaving way for everyone to enter. Mitsuri let the surge of the others lead her inside before she found herself in the dark, blinking quickly to adjust. She looked around, wondering what she would do. Then, deciding that team work was always great, she searched for the girl she had spoken to earlier. The girl, as it turns out, was right beside her, the light from outside the dense wisteria providing Mitsuri enough source to see her lingering uncertainly.

“Can we… go in together?” Mitsuri asked quietly, afraid that if she spoke, she would break some sort of spell in the eerie quietness of the forest. Despite the amount of people milling about, finding their way, it seemed terribly silent. Perhaps the demons were hiding, waiting for their best catch. She shuddered, turning her thoughts back to the girl as she waited for a response.

“Okay,” the girl said eventually, apparently deciding that this would be the best option.

“Okay!” Mitsuri echoed, relieved. She smiled then they made their way through the trees, maneuvering around the other people.

For the first night, nothing happened. During the day they got some sleep, taking turns to go out and find some berries or whatever they could possible eat here. The second night, they encountered one demon. It was a reckless demon, however, driven by its hunger and that only. There was a slight struggle before Mitsuri and the girl beheaded it, watching its disintegrated form with mild interest. Mitsuri wasn’t quite sure what to feel, a mixture of uncertainty still lingering from her doubts from earlier. Maybe she could’ve reasoned with the demon! Shown it that it could try to survive off of blood banks or some sort. There had to be an alternative, right? Killing it was so dreadfully sad, even if it did seem more angry than upset. But then the third night rolled along and changed everything.

Up till now, Mitsuri had never seen death before. She wasn’t stupid, of course, she knew that everyone died eventually and there was really nothing much to do about it—unless it was something like this, working to save people from creatures that would kill the deliberately. But she had never seen someone die in front of her, neither peacefully or mercilessly. Unfortunately, her first taste of the crude sight turned out even worse than she could’ve imagined.

She and the girl, who were both quite tired after being up all day because of the clouds that blotted out the sun, had been trekking through the forest, katanas clutched tightly in their hands. They were beginning to become a little more accustomed to the dark and each other, more comfortable. It seemed that days full of fear brought people closer together. As they walked, there was the sound of rustling leaves. Instantly, they both froze, waiting to see if the source was a human, a demon, or an animal. When nothing happened, they settled on the wind. Of course, their nerves bristled nevertheless and they were on edge, jumpy at the slightest sounds. And then it happened.

It was so quick, so abrupt that Mitsuri couldn’t have done anything anyway. But one moment, the girl was beside her, sharing her anxiety. Then the next, she was dangled in the air by her ankle, a scream tearing at her vocal chords. When Mitsuri turned, eyes wide, panic spiking every sense, she found her friend’s blood dripping onto her face. She froze, unable to do anything. A demon, its form a blur, cackled gleefully, shoving limbs and fingers clumsily into its mouth. The previous scream that had indicated to Mitsuri that something had been wrong had been cut off now, leaving a ringing silence around them. When Mitsuri looked up, whole body shaking, she met the eyes of the girl who’s final breaths would be drawn. For a moment, the dark eyes plead for help, agony written in the depths of her gaze. Then she trembled, eyes rolling back and never seeing again.

That was when Mitsuri broke, a croaky cry leaving her throat. The demon, still devouring her friend, glanced down at her dismissively, too indulged in its own hunger to say anything. But Mitsuri was already at its throat, pure adrenaline and hatred for this creature—this monster—that had stolen her friend from her without mercy driving her forward, driving her katana into the demon’s throat and watching the blade sink into its flesh. She delivered the same cruel dismissiveness to its death as it had for her friend’s, unable to feel any pity for it anymore. Because how could she? Not when she still had the blood of the girl, not yet dried, staining her skin. Not when the image of a contorted body, bones twisted unnaturally, pieces of flesh missing, all burned into Mitsuri’s memory. She did not… she could not understand how it could do such a thing. How it could be so cruel and spare her not even a glance.

She decided, then, that it would not be hard to kill. Not if it was the demons she was killing. Not if she would be saving so, so many lives by ridding of its existence. Yes, she hadn’t known the girl for long. But it didn’t matter. She had cared enough to be stilled, frozen to the bone at the sound of her scream, the sight of her mangled body. She could never forgive the demons. Risk her life or not, she would not allow this to happen again. Never.

the girl that died- appearance-wise is a vague description of me (gave into the temptation)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Sword of Kaigen

standalone fantasy set in a rural mountain village at the edge of an empire that still holds traditional values, with families of powerful water/ice magic warriors

follows a powerful young heir who begins to question his beliefs about the empire when a new boy comes to his village from the city

and his mother, a housewife who has tried to forget her youth as a warrior and vigilante in the city since she moved back home to a loveless marriage

when there’s a violent attack on their village that they’re unprepared for, everything changes, and she has to embrace her old skills to protect her family and people

[zhongrin]

yk, while chinese is a nightmare to learn (for me at least) they're also such an interesting language... "来, 小姐!" hits a lot different than "miss, your order's ready!" but i can't really explain why hahahah

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[snowbatsims]

LOOKBOOK: Tomboyish Sidetails

Hello! I really don't do lookbooks often, in fact this is the only one I've been planning on, but basically over the years I have slowly been collecting different versions of this haircut.

It's kind of an uncommon cut to come across, so I figured I might as well share all the ones I've found so far? Hope this helps anyone else who might be looking!

x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x

Creators featured (thank you so much!!)

@simandy @feralpoodles @meghewlett tianshi88 @llazyneiph @raccoonium @sour-roulette @birksche @c-cerberus-sims-s

Also if half of these tags don't work, that's a Tumblr issue. Sorry!

[altruistic-meme]

i want to go to the cafe. i want to go to the cafe. i have to get up in order to do that.

[reel-fear]

MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!

grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.