#I will make your life a living hell

[thoselittleboats]

BG3 text - Raphael (6/?)

[rustedhills]

Disney, releasing Wish: "so it's all about legacy--the new generation surpassing the old, overcoming the evils perpetuated by them, relinquishing singular power... and there's an old man in a tower, uh... animal sidekick, i guess..., ah... magic...?

Miyazaki, just out of frame, sledgehammer raised:

[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.”

[potatounicoorn]

As if Kuruk being claimed as the worst Avatar in history, while he cleaned up Yanchens mess, dedicating his life to slaying bad spirits while getting no reward but only hatred towards him, losing his wife on the wedding day in progress AND his own life at the early age of THIRTY THREE by literally rotting from spirit powers was not enough suffering for a lifetime. Hah. NooOOOo!

Apparently universe does not want to give this man a fucking break because his "team Avatar" his "best friends", keep being the absolute assholes even after his death AND LITERALLY BETRAY HIM IN HIS NEXT LIFE. AND THEN KEEP MAKING HIS RECARNATION'S LIFE MISERABLE. WHY WAS NOT ONE LIFETIME ENOUGH, WHY??

[gazumirei]

the pressure fandom right now

[sephospaganplace]

There are so so so many ways to experience the gods.

There is no right or wrong way. There is no blunt way. Its all feeling and ephemeral.

If you've felt warmth, if you've had a dream, if you've seen a crow that stares at you for too long, if something inexplicable happens and you're lucky suddenly, if you've caught eyes with a stranger and felt like you knew each other, if the candle flickers a certain way, if one time when you're singing your voice sounds gorgeous in a way you weren't expecting, these are all the presence of a god.

God phoning is popular on witchtok but half the time what they're saying is bullshit. I've very very rarely heard a voice and every single time it was my own voice, just suffused with something, saying something I normally wouldn’t say. Or maybe I would. I've never heard a clear, distinct, audible voice. Its an invisible world we're connecting with, its a different plane. We cannot experience it the same way we experience every day life.

We'll never sit down at a coffee table across from the physical manifestation of our god, and know that its them, not until after. And even then we can never be sure. That’s the nature of it. There are no absolutes, there cannot be. That’s what makes it beautiful. That’s where belief comes in. It isn't about being good enough or worthy enough or devout enough, that doesn't exist. That isn’t what its about at all. You are worthy even if the divine doesn’t manifest in a way we've been told is the only real way, and you are connecting even if you cant see it now. My most intense spiritual experiences are never something I realize are happening in the moment, its always only after that I can see it clearly.

The gods are all around us.

[bloodcoveredgf]

longlegs is a movie about mother/daughterhood for real. throws up thinking about it actually

[cutelilrat]

im just a mess no one wants to clean up.

[decoy1]

Spot the kinda villain to stop others from hurting or killing his designated hero because he wants to “do it himself” or “if anyone’s gonna hurt/kill Spider-man it’s gonna be me”.

[mukuharakazui]

He is so sad here but worry not! I can make him smile so brightly ^_^

[goldkirk]

.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I never want to read about people having healthy, loving relationships in fiction. Not for any particularly noble or logical reason, I just hate it.

[actual-changeling]

joel is hot. everyone knows. half the boston qz knew. most of jackson knows. and there is a lot of people that develop a crush on him and try to ask him out while completely unaware of the one big problem between them and joel: ellie.

the second she knows someone is trying to make a move on him (and it's like a fully developed sense at this point), she has a number of ways with increasing escalation to stop them.

first phase is simply getting joel away from them, which helps with the immediate danger of "fuck they're trying to ask him out" but does not solve the long-term motivation. it's easy enough, she has joel wrapped around her finger and a simple "joel i'm tried" will have him carry her home in his arms, so yeah, simple.

the second phase is what tommy ends up calling her "good girl act", and while tommy is a little bitch, he keeps his mouth shut because his brother's adopted daughter is giving him prime entertainment (and he's the fun uncle anyway). everyone knows ellie and joel are a package deal much to some people's annoyance, but it means most people try to win her over before actively pursuing joel. unfortunately for them, ellie is very, very good at finding out your weakness and then using it against you. a mean comment here, poking fun at someone there, implying joel is holding a grudge based on something she knows happened two weeks ago that he has absolutely no clue about, all with the shiniest smile and the sweetest voice. it deters most of them, and the effort is minimal. it's fun for her, really, and gives her a satisfying feeling of peace.

and then there are the handful of people that are just too fucking determined. joel is great, but he is hers, and she already begrudgingly shares him with tommy (though she is still considering just stabbing him in his sleep and calling it a day, but as it turns out he is actually a pretty fun guy despite it all and joel likes him).

they stonewall their way through her attempts at deterring them and get way closer to joel than anyone should, but her saving grace is also her biggest pride: joel has eyes for her and her only. hell, she doubts he even remotely picks up on people being genuinely kind to him let alone flirting with him, and if she isn't with him, he is thinking about her, rotating ellie in his head over and over until she's back at his side.

those people are the ones that get tripped in the dining hall and dead fish in their couch cushions, and ellie must look stabby enough for them to back off after that. (she would, in fact, stab them if necessary. her switchblade is a close second to joel in terms of affection).

ellie beats cupid to death in a corner while tommy cheers her on and joel is none the wiser, still thinking that most people are barely above tolerating him. he doesn't care, though, he has ellie. that's all he wants and all he will ever need.

(and if he eventually does catch on after a year or two and simply smiles and plays along, well, that's a nice secret to keep for a change)

[moregraceful]

played myself (<- considering signing up for my own charity fest after making a post about nontraditional digital fanworks)(i was pretty set on not signing up)

[noodlebutts]

Please forgive me if this is a question you're tired of hearing 😅 I am not much in the cat community so I don't know if this is an exhausted point. I was just wondering if the stereotype of Siamese cats being super vocal is true?

Yes. Live in fear. The first 18 months of Zuko's time with us was full of yells and suffering. You can hear it outside your house, they will outlast you, the only answer is to reach a compromise with a cat. If you are not prepared to be held hostage by a cat, DNI

[shutup-andletme-go]

I cannot rely on one person for me to be happy my happiness isn't allowed to be only triggered by one person I can be happy at every little thing it doesn't matter about this one person