#walk without the stars

[emilynyaesmp]

OK GUYS IVE JUST REALISED THAT IN “WALK WITHOUT THE STARS” BY BLIXEMI, HAWKFROST LITERALLY MIRRORS WHAT IVYPOOL WAS SAYING ABT DOVEWING.

@blixemi IS A LYRICAL FUCKING GENUIS.

[goldentail-readswarriorcats]

so I watched a Blixemi video again and uh I got back into drawing battle cats

[starcurtain]

I know everyone moved on to talking about 3.3, but mentally I'm still here...

Because like, sure, of course, yes, obviously Eurypon is talking about the Kremnoans serving Okhema in the Flame Chase Journey.

But actually? The only person Eurypon specifically talks about through his whole segment of the memory fragment is Mydei, so he might as well be saying "Since when did YOU grow so weak as to become someone else's quiet support?"

And I can't stop laughing about it because why does this feel so much like "I saw you giving that Elysian boy those gay ass emotional peptalks. Out here having a healthy and supportive relationship on main and still wanna call yourself a Kremnoan?? Are you a man or your man's man?!"

Eurypon is not woke enough for Mydei and Phainon's emotional attunement. 😂

[crrows]

spring is coming!!

[archivewriter1ont]

Bad Batch Incorrect Quotes

(After rescuing Echo from Purkoll, the Batchers are alone on the Marauder....)

Hunter: I found Crosshair's old armor....Echo can wear this on the mission, until he gets his own.

Wrecker: Cross, quick! Paint a skull on it!

Crosshair: *holds up paintbrush* Already on it, Wrecker.

Hunter: Uh, why?

Crosshair: So they know he's ours now, di'kut.

Wrecker: Everybody else gets new squadmates. Now we can, too.

Hunter: I'm pretty sure we have to check with Rex on that first. He's still his CO, I think.

Crosshair: Well, you're our CO and I don't think we asked you, either. Did we, Wrecker?

Wrecker: Nope.

Tech: I agree with Crosshair and Wrecker. In this case, I believe we should abide by the proven, inter-planetarily recognized law of FINDERS KEEPERS.

Hunter:

Hunter: You guys just ruined my kidnapping plan. I had the getaway figured out and everything.

[exasperatedoctopus]

The amount of nonsense the ds9 crew puts up with from Quark is ridiculous.

A non-exhaustive list of Quark’s crimes as of s2:ep12:

1. He directly let in a bunch of criminals into the station that proceeded to kidnap the worm-portion of Dax

2. He blackmailed Julian and O’Brien into having a public tennis match, then tried to drug Julien to fix said match

3. He has been caught actively consorting with arms dealers on multiple occasions

4. He literally broke into someone’s private quarters to steal a secret box and summarily kicked off a cold case murder investigation when he got chumped for it

Nobody’s even surprised by it at this point. The earth is round, DS9 is a miserable, shambling wreck of Cardassian engineering, and Quark commits Crimes

[sweetsouldhavernas]

Mirrorverse Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay ↳ CRACKED MIRROR

[puppetmaster13u]

Can't stop thinking about This prompt/au lol

I almost like to think that Clockwork kind of half-sent Danny to the ghost-world version of Gotham because he was struggling and is honestly just a kid and could use some guidance. And with how the Observants dislike him to the point of murder, CW sure couldn't keep him in Long Now. But Gotham? Now there's a place that not many go, thanks to curses running amok, a very dangerous City Spirit, and amalgamations of fallen Guardians and Rogues. It's chaotic, dangerous, and a hell of a shot, but the Bat could, and most probably would assist the newborn guardian. The living world and the infinite are intertwined after all, influenced by whatever realm it drifts closest to.

Thankfully Danny seems to be enjoying himself- he has a proper ghost friend now! And he's starting to be able to understand Batblob's cacophony of Silent-EverSilent-Gurgles-DistantWhispers-QuietScreamsSilence easier too without Robin translating. (His Ghost-Speak is getting so good :D) He wishes he could bring Sam & Tucker but it's a little too far into the ghost zone. And the ghosts and Vlad doesn't bother him here! (The last time he tried, unknown to Danny, the older halfa was met with a malicious swarm of teeth and maws ready to rip and tear and not lose another child again-) He's even gotten shown the exits to the living-world's Gotham. Robin likes to ramble about the new and different living-robins and about their friend who was also a robin and who disappeared one day and whose core they carry on their belt. Maybe he can help them find out what happened to him...

[sharkylass]

On a scale of 1-10, how upset would Roboro be to get itself out of the loops...and then, as an AU of an AU, ends up as Siffrins guide instead?

OUUGHHH.... INTERESTING QUESTION.....

If Roboro has already escape the loops via the help of Isa- Then I feel like it wouldn't really hit too badly? Depends on when it happens post loops- Like, if it was the day after? Terrible, you thought you were finally finally free- there's only so much fakeouts a guy can take you know?

But it also knows how to escape, it knows the key is Wish Craft. So knowing majority of the cause would really help solve the issue relatively fast. Give it a goal, a direction, a meaning.

If it was a WHILE post loops- then even better honestly, even tho it would be reminded of its old trauma which is never nice when you're trying to heal- But they have had time to heal, which is important.

So uh, I guess anywhere from 4.5-7.5?

The thing is- Roboro only knows the wish it and Isa made. He has no idea what Sif wished for, so he can only assume the two made the same wish. Regardless, they'd need to have a feelings talky-talky which will be unpleasant for both of them.

Regardless, I can't see the loops really going futher then defeating the King? I can't see them getting past ACT 3 since Roboro is there basically holding the solution.

...

However- If it's a Roboro that hasn't escaped the timeloops-

I drew this forever ago haha I had some writing for it too I might post one day

[romance-rambles]

au - hogwarts+same age!cael | what if she's written mine on my upper thigh

A sixth year at Hogwarts, Cael and his classmates have just recently been exposed to the qualities of Amortentia, the potion of deep obsession. Somehow, it helps him win a kiss from his crush.

1.9k, alternate universe - hogwarts (ft. young cael), fluff + getting together, slight jealousy, reader is mc, series: none

THOSE WALKING INTO THE SLYTHERIN'S common room have long since grown accustomed to the sight of you sprawled across the carpet, with a hefty textbook protecting your pretty face from the light that shoddily illuminates the area. They spare you no more than a glance before they disperse, readily seeking refuge in the comforts of their dorm room.

Certainly, despite wearing a Gryffindor's robe, most would consider you an honorary Slytherin. And no one in the history of Hogwarts has ever transferred houses, but that has not stopped some from their cohort from attempting to make you the first to do so.

Cael has, on occasion, been one of them.

Neatly, he folds the corner of the page, his gaze lingering briefly on the ingredients for Amortentia—the potion that had spurred most of his classmates into a frenzy. Every year, when the sixth years soon approached this particular subject, the result was the same.

Though ingesting the potion is quite dangerous, what most have a tendency to seek out is, instead, one of its unique characteristics. The scent reflects that which the person smelling it finds most attractive, and for a class consisting of mostly seventeen year olds, the prospect of being the lucky few who could find themselves a partner in this way is exciting.

That, or watching a relationship crash and burn, when the scents inevitably do not match.

Cael, for one, has no interest in the drama. Yet, for all his aloofness, even he isn't above such curiosity. The day the Potions Professor quizzed the class on the characteristics of potions they'd need to know for their NEWTs, you simply said:

"It smells nice."

Try as he might, he can't shake the image of your flushed cheeks and the pleased smile tugging at your lips. He was certain his own cheeks did not fare much better in that moment. It was a matter confirmed by your teasing, another unsubtle push to force him to confess first.

In yet another moment of pettiness, he responded in kind, leaving the both of them at a stalemate once again.

When did their habit begin? When had they come to notice the ways in which they could not live without the other person? When had they decided, quietly, that they would not be the first to take the fall?

There are times when Cael wonders if it would be worth it to lose. Then, you make his heart race faster than it has any right to on a Tuesday afternoon with only a smug grin—and he realizes, no, it would not be worth the lifetime of teasing.

Putting his Potions textbook atop the coffee table, he glances at his study partner for this evening—and for every evening after.

From the moment the two of you were introduced—by your mother, no less—you seemed to have decided he was the greatest setback you would ever face. So, he too had returned the favor. But had either of those second years ever considered a different nuance to the word "adversary"?

Cael nudges your shoulder gently with his foot. "I think that's enough of a break."

You roll over with a groan. The textbook in your hands slams shut, narrowly missing the chance to trap the tip of your nose in. Already, he's bribed you with food. With a trip into the nearby town, a denial of something more couched into his words. With a bet designed to stoke your competitive spirit, and more.

Nothing has stuck.

As his lips purse and a sigh threatens to escape from his lips, a thought strikes the young prefect. He bends over, one hand pushing up his bangs before the back of his hand gauges his temperature. The other repeats the same gesture on you.

"You're not sick," he says, the blandness of his tone masking his relief.

You hum. "No, just lazy."

In the absence of something to hold, your fingers take to doodling patterns on the stiff carpet. Each stroke disappears into the dark green surface and leaves nothing behind. Dimly lit as the carpet beneath is, Cael can still make out your words—written in cursive, the looping letters reconstructing your previous response.

With his hands clasped in front of him, he watches more of your doodles disappear into the green. NEWTs. Amortentia. The shape of a heart. The beginning of a phrase, starting with a cursive I. Its seamless stroke twists into an ever running spiral, up until you slice it cleanly through the middle.

"Move over," he soon finds himself saying.

Your hand stills. Then, as soon as you process his words, you erase your already blank canvas before pulling your hands closer to yourself. Cael settles down beside you, drawing his knees to his chest.

The edge of the coffee table sits dangerously close to his forehead. He pushes it away, back to its original position, before he moved it closer for his convenience. His other hand comes to rest on the ground.

Your fingers find a new canvas in it. As he curls his hand into a fist, the space afforded to you by the back of his hand shrinks. But it does not deter you from resuming your doodles.

A star. A flower. A bundle of leaves.

"Not going to study?" you ask absent-mindedly.

Cael snorts, combing through his hair with his free hand. "Hard to study when my partner is slacking off."

You ignore his words entirely. Years of hearing his snark has granted you a layer of immunity to it—on what amounts to a good day for him, he can tear it down with ease, leaving you to huff and puff your way through conversations. Today is not one of those days.

"Guess what I'm writing," you say instead.

An L follows an E, which follows an A, which follows a C. He's written the name enough times over the years to recognize the strokes blindfolded.

"My name."

The next is one that's haunted him over the years.

It's on the corners of his notebooks' pages. It sits interchangeably with his own, between the first and second places, whenever their grades are posted. In the forest when he visits their pet dragon, it's the name that slips out of his mouth with a sigh—whether Beanie is well-behaved or not.

"…Yours." He leans back comfortably, eyes closed as he waits for his next trial. The next one is a drawing, in two parts. You've only finished your haphazardly-drawn strawberry when he asks, "Hungry?"

Humming, you sit up. "Not yet."

Sitting shoulder to shoulder like this, he can discern the faint, sweet scent of your shampoo from the smell of fresh paint that has a tendency to follow you wherever you go. Those were two of the scents that the Amortentia potion had adopted for his sake.

The third took the form of a freshly-baked vanilla cake, overlapping with a lavender-scented candle. A memory from two years prior, the first year neither of them returned home—to your home—for the holidays.

Cael could've gone away on his own. Your mother would've been happy to have at least one of them at home. But it was his own choice to stay.

For Beanie, he said out loud.

For you, he said, in the quiet of his mind, where his childish secrets resided.

He opens his eyes, craning his neck ever so slightly to watch you. You're gazing into the distance with a blank look in your pretty eyes. At some point in the silence, you had copied most parts of his sitting position—the difference lays in where your hands rest. They clasp tightly in front of your drawn-up legs, as if to keep them in place.

"I give up," you whisper, turning your head to look at him.

"That's been the state of affairs for a while," the young prefect says wryly.

In your eyes, he counts a multitude of shades of purple. Hidden among them, he realizes too late, is a vulnerable sort of honesty he's only seen once before. Annoyance replaces it briefly. You sigh and tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I'm not talking about studying."

Cael stares blankly in response. He's no better off when you close the distance between them and pull back just as quickly. What lingers on his lips is the taste of your lip balm—and when he wipes the sticky residue away, a pinky nude stains his thumb.

By now, a few of the Slytherins who had escaped to their dorm rooms earlier have started taking space up in the common room. Most hover at the edges, finding their seats on the sofas that line the walls. It is usually only Ambrum, from his fellow housemates, who sits in as their third wheel, but he has errands to run today.

Your lips twitch into a faint smile, oddly smug for having become the loser in their little war.

"You win," you say, but he thinks the flush creeping up his cheeks might tell a different story.

extra: a few hours ago - the reason why you confessed

FRESHLY-MADE STRAWBERRY TOAST, THE scent of broomstick handles, and lavender—those were the three aromas that the Amortentia potion presented you with in class. As it turns out, Natalie, one of the many admirers that Cael somehow has garnered over the years, happened to land two of the three herself.

You learn this while hiding in the bathroom stall, waiting for her and her friends to leave so you can too.

On an ordinary day, you wouldn't be so cowardly. But when her conversation with her friends begins with what is essentially a declaration of war, you think it might be just a little awkward to walk past her on your way out.

This is the story of why you decide to give in, a secret that stays with you until a random late night years later, when it slips out in the middle of a play argument.

"I can't believe you're going to confess," one of her friends repeats for the nth time. Frankly, you can't blame her. You'd be doing the same thing in her position. "Doesn't he have a thing with that Gryffindor girl?"

Your ears perk up at the mention of yourself. For the past few years, most of Cael's admirers have left him alone for that very reason. You have a claim, however implicit—one that rivals the kind a girlfriend might have.

For the reason that you will, one day, be his girlfriend, just as soon as he gives in and asks you out.

"It isn't official, though." Natalie digs through her pockets for something. From the crack in the stall, you realize it's lipgloss. "I've never seen them kiss or go on a date."

"Still…" Her other friend says, in a hushed tone. "What if he turns you down?"

"What if he doesn't?"

It isn't until Natalie speaks up again that you realize how fervently you hoped the question would deter her. Realistically, you have nothing to fear. Even so, the messy emotion known as jealousy burns away at your rationality, leaving you to gnaw at your lip in silence.

"Well, good luck then." This time, it's the first friend who comments. She seems to adjust her hair before clasping her hands together. "We should get going. Lunch should be almost over."

They leave just as loudly as they came, the conversation easily shifting to the hows of Natalie's plan. You sit there in the bathroom stall, for longer than you should. Your knuckles turn pale; your long nails dig into the palms of your hand.

You wonder—if the only thing spurring her to confess is that the two of you haven't officially defined your relationship, then would doing so lead her to change her mind?

— happy birthday to my very awesome birthday twin, @xcerizex!

[sad-endings-suck]

One of my favourite details from the original Red Rising trilogy, is that no one ever came close to guessing or even suspecting that Darrow wasn’t a gold.

It shows the inherent flaw in their sense of superiority. Octavia had Darrow right there in front of her, with an Oracle wrapped around his arm, and even though she suspected he was a Son of Ares, she never asked if he was anything other than gold, didn’t even come close.

Adrius and Virginia are geniuses, but still, neither of them could have possibly fathomed that Darrow was a red until they had the concrete evidence of his carving right in front of them.

To this day (in canon) the only reason anyone knows Darrow is a red carved to be gold, is because the video evidence of his carving was leaked (initially from Harmony, and later from others).

No one, no matter how intelligent, practical, paranoid, cautions, clever or skeptical, ever figured out about Darrow’s carving through their own suspicion or means of investigation. They were either in on it from the beginning (Dancer, Mickey, Quicksilver, etc) or they were shown video evidence. No one figured it out themselves or “unravelled the mystery” so to speak. Because no one even knew there was a mystery.

And before people say “it was extremely unlikely, they had no reason to suspect” Yes, Darrow’s carving was incredibly difficult and expensive, but the same procedure was performed on Titus not long after, so how rare or hard could it be? We even get a dialogue from Mustang in Golden Son in which she details that different colours go to carvers all the time to have “intrinsic” parts of themselves altered, far more often than the public realizes. So the possibility should have been on Octavia’s radar, but it wasn’t, because she simply couldn’t fathom it. It was too obscure.

How could a red be the spitting image of what gold society idealizes? How could a red be so tall, strong, and beautiful? How could a red graduate top of the Institute, become a peerless scarred, a Lancer, her own grandson’s celebrity hero? Neither her nor Nero or Lorn or even Adrius were capable of even entertaining the idea. It was not a thought that was ever going to occur to them naturally.

And I really love that, from a narrative perspective, because it says so much about how the Society operates and upholds itself. It says so much about how high on their own egos golds really are. It says so much about how the colours are not as different from one another as golds would have them believe.

Cassian Andor: What? To steal from the Empire? What do you need? A uniform, some dirty hands and an Imperial tool kit. They're so proud of themselves, they don't even care. They're so fat and satisfied, they can't imagine it.

Luthen Rael: Can't imagine what?

Cassian Andor: That someone like me would ever get inside their house, walk their floors, spit in their food, take their gear.

Andor (2022-)

[phoenixkaptain]

My favourite thing about Leia is how fucking soft she is.

Like she is a little lady. She speaks very gently. She cares so much. She’s protective and warm. She just smiles and looks so happy. With Luke. Like, only Luke.

In the movies, this is also the case, but it really is one of my favourite parts of the 2015 run of the comics. They’re like, Leia: “Luke is doing great” while Luke is in the background getting thrown through a wall.

Sana (I love Sana) says she’ll won’t take Leia to Nar Shaddaa (to Luke) for free and Leia immediately offers her credits. When Sana is like “nah, just give me Han” Leia immediately agrees, and like. It’s funny for a variety of reasons but my favourite one is that Leia is trading Han for the Chance of seeing Luke.

And like, the comics show Leia telling Luke that she supports him even though he has to leave and she is very sad about it. She’s super disappointed she doesn’t get to go on the long probably meant-to-be boring mission with him. She just wants to hang out with Luke and make sure he’s okay and try not to lose him in the first fifteen minutes (again) or fifteen minutes after finding him again (also again).

I mean, it isn’t just Leia, I fucking adore Chewbacca’s relationship with Luke because. “Who would be stupid enough to volunteer to go on a doomed rescue mission for Skywalker-“ and it’s Chewbacca, Chewbacca is stupid enough, Chewbacca has the ship idling in the hangar, Chewbacca has had a Luke Rescue Kit in the ship since Luke left a week ago, Chewbacca is so ready to go on a doomed, borderline suicidal rescue mission for Luke.

Chewbacca just beats up a bar full of people to get them to tell him where Luke is. Like, that’s amazing. It’s adorable. He makes C3PO come with him. A wonderful idea. Chewbacca eventually picks Luke up like Like is a big cat. My favourite panel of all time.

Chewbacca and Leia are both over there like “I’ve only had Luke for three and a half months and if anything happened to him, I would kill all of you to get enough blood to perform an ancient ritual to make him perfectly alright again and I would start with Han.”

Han, meanwhile, is over there like “rude. Understandable, but still. Super rude.”

And I just think how soft Leia is with Luke is really sweet and how soft Chewbacca is with Luke is really cute and how both of them are so sarcastic to Han for literally no reason other than that they Thrive with his annoyance-

It’s great. If nobody else gets the characters, the 2015 run comes the closest.

[gifti3]

the goverment is definitely figuring out this alien situation asap right?? cause whats happening currently is not feasible in the long run is it not??

im sure they are trying to maybe figure it out...probably, but part of me feels like it is not being treated with the seriousness it should be by them, which ig is in character LOL

pretty much relying on one guy (who doesnt even wanna be doing this) is actually scary

and the mc still has to like 'encourage' him to do it, tho its much easier in the 'ray ending' for sure. that man just wants to live a regular life with mc (unfortunately for him that means continuing to be binary star and dealing with aliens)

and if i was a citizen and knew this id be panicking

like yea u have these other heroes helping and stuff which im sure looks comforting from an outside point of view! but like the actuality is that its ray keeping things afloat

AND ON THE TOPIC OF THE MC, i was definitely in my head like....wouldnt rays superiors (managers??) get like curious about them? like no way theyre not being nosy about it after a certain amount of time passes. it really feels like something that could be leveraged against him,,, (if there is fic about this pls send it to me lol)

honestly i feel like mc and rays relationship would have moments of high stress. like there will be good times but also the bad times will also be there and its sometimes gonna be because of outside factors they cant control

[feroluce]

That beautiful art of a person cutting the sleeve off their kimono so as not to disturb their sleeping cat, except it's Boothill disconnecting an entire robotic arm because Dan Heng fell asleep on him ☆

[shewhoeatssand]

Kanekis so funny he’s like “hm… I need to be loved… oh, I am loved..??? well, ahh, nope nope not enough. I need to be loved more” like omgggggg girl you HAVE to meet Me

[youngpettyqueen]

I love thinking about the physical affection aspect of Worf/Jadzia/Julian because youve got Worf who won't go out of his way to initiate physical affection but then youve got Jadzia and Julian who are all about the touchy feely and Worf doesnt, like, mind this and lets them do what they want so he just has them clinging to him at all times. Worf is trying to sit and eat and he has to do so around Jadzia who is perched in his lap and Julian is hanging over his shoulders like a scarf. he's walking somewhere and the both of them are hanging off his arms. getting out of bed in the morning is an entire ordeal because he is sandwiched between the two of them. cant hand him shit because his hands are always being held. they are so goddamn obstructive but Worf just lets them do their thing because its not worth the argument and also he maybe (definitely) likes the affection