The Sexual Tension Between Me And Tybalt’s Sword Sheathed In Mercutio’s Body

☠ - angry/violent headcanon, ahsoka!

I hope you don’t mind but somehow it turned a bit longer than I have planned but while writing I get inspired by Polish song “Dorosłe Dzieci” (more or less Adult Children) that always gives me too much feelings, especially about all young padawans/Jedi & clones thrown into war. So, here, my headcanon about Ahsoka and stages oof her anger:

Ahsoka wasn’t prone to anger by nature. She was very bright child, who loved - and was loved - unconditionally. There was nothing to be angry about when she lived with family on her native planet. At least until bad people showed up one day and took her away from safe home.

She didn’t feel anger then, not really, because cold fear filled her up; she was so small and  helpless. But the Jedi came  and saved her from bad people, and her parents decided she would be much safer at Jedi Temple, so little Ahsoka agreed. She connected to Jedi in a way she never did with anyone. There was no anger at her family. Something inside her mind, some voice she never heard before but knew it means no harm to her, said it’s right thing to do.

When she grew up in Jedi Temple, she was told that anger is bad. It corrupts a good person and leads to the Dark Side. Jedi never should act on such emotion, never should feel it. The lack of passion, lack of emotions is what makes person a good Jedi. Ahsoka wanted to be a good Jedi, so she never questioned her teachers. They were after all masters, older and wiser than her.

Then came war.

At first, Ahsoka was excited. She trained her whole life to serve Republic and in her young mind she already saw all the great adventures awaiting her, all the chances to prove how good Jedi she was. She wasn’t chosen as padawan by anyone for years, and the older she grew the more she feared that Council will finally sent her away, far, far away from Temple, from people she knew, from things she understand. She wasn’t angry at the thought though, just  scared to be the drop out, the failure. The members of Jedi Council were wise. Wiser than anyone else. There was no point to be angry at their decision. Being angry would only prove she wasn’t worth to be Jedi. Simple.

After all, she was chosen by no one else than Anakin Skywalker. The one rumored to be special among Jedi. Destined to do great things. Ahsoka was willing to do everything to prove she was worth the honor. Only to learn, he did never ask for padawan.

She was frustrated, yes. Not angry. Anger was bad and after all, she was where master Yoda ordered her to be. He said, she was meant to be his student, and she would not have it any other way. But the first mission wasn’t that great fun like she imagined. People were dying. She almost died too. But she survived and was accepted as padawan by Skywalker. Everything seemed to be alright.

Except it wasn’t.

The more days passed, the more tightly something clutched her inside. Ahsoka wasn’t prone to anger by nature, but which every battle, she fought more furious. It wasn’t anger, she kept thinking, while cutting droids in half, while piercing through the living body of enemies. Killing people once seemed so cruel, so devastating, so overwhelming, she couldn’t think straight for days. Now, it was nothing to dwell on. She was protecting her troopers, her comrades. Dead enemy couldn’t kill them,  couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Continua a leggere

no babe i love your fingerless gloves and your fuckass bob, but maybe you should stop hiding behind columns at important diplomatic parties, yes i know they’re scary to you, yes i know you “accidentally” called an alien a son of a bitch at the last party— oh let’s not be dramatic— you’re supposed to be the leader of voltron, babe, not the support beam of a random castle

the assassination of caesar was pretty gay when you think about it. like what do you need all those knives for? penetrating another man?

i just have a soft spot for creatures that have no right to exist. robots with no empathy and a shortened lifespan. vampires who can't survive without killing others. parasites who possess a body and discover the joys of being human. a person created by the unwilling fusion of two other people. idk it just hits me every time

*blood warning*

The Song of Achilles - color keys

I’m trying to work on my coloring/framing, so I thought it’d be fun to try some color key type drawings with a whole book!

<Reblog to get a sword.> o()xxx[{::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

listen atla fandom we don’t talk enough about Iroh’s redemption arc.

i feel like we all just sort of take it for granted that he was always like that? because he was kind to Zuko, and he’s largely presented, in the context of the show, as being a kindly, wise old man who makes a lot of dumb jokes. but Iroh was a general in the Fire Nation army! he was going to become the Firelord! he laid siege to Ba Sing Se! he was a hugely powerful bender, and i’m sure that the Earth Kingdom was (rightfully) terrified of him for a while.

but then Lu Ten died, and Iroh came home. not long afterwards, his father died, and Ozai took the throne. at this point, Iroh had begun to see the horrors of the Fire Nation, the damage his family had done. and he made the conscious, active choice to be kind. he saw the cruelty that his people had inflicted, that he had inflicted, and he went and did better. He was kind to Zuko when no one else around him was, he was kind to the soldiers that had essentially been banished alongside them, he was kind to Song and her family and to Toph and to the whole Gaang and to just about every person he came across, with the (understandable) exception of those who were actively trying to kill him and/or Zuko. he saw everything that his people had done, and he decided that he wouldn’t be party to that any longer.

honestly, it reminds me of Aang, in a way. the major difference between Aang and Iroh, as far as their characterisation and their kindness, is that Aang was born and raised in gentility and kindness and peace, and Iroh very much wasn’t. He chose those things, even after everything that had happened to him, when it would have made just as much sense for him to become another Jeong Jeong, or even an Ozai. but he didn’t. he refused to. he, like Aang, chose kindness in the end, and that made all the difference.

The sand would have rose with Anakin if the Jedi hadn't been rotten and selfish; acting like this they helped Ani's downfall and the birth of Darth Vader. Palpatine convinced him to join the dark side because there was no one else on the other side willing to help him.

Anakin + M for the minific thing, please

M. when it rains/snows/storms;

The palace doors were shuddering and clattering and hissing, shaken by the sand raging outside. It was furious, building onto itself, feeding the storm grain by grain like single drops feed seas on other planets he had only heard of in bits of stolen tales, conversations eavesdropped from people free to roam the galaxy as it pleased them. The noise was astonishing. The Desert was screaming, roaring, just like the slaves who died at the execution he had been obliged to attend to only a few days ago. They shared the same fierce dignity, the same fearlessness. It was said the Desert’s strength came to hover on their dying children if only someone dared ask for help. Sandstorm were the moment when every dead slave came back to life to throw their wrath onto the world. He knew that. He knew that without single grains a sandstorm would be nothing, and the raw, angry song those single grains were able to form together had always struck him. Sometimes, no matter how dangerous it was, no matter that he had too much respect for the Desert to defy them like that, he wished he could be outside, facing the sandstorm in the eye.

He kept brushing the mop against the floor, knelt on hot sandstone. There was dust all over the place, and Gardulla hated dusty aisles, especially during sandstorms, when sand used to sneak in from every crack and crevice of the structure and settle on every layer, on every spot, like a rough, gritty blanket. She wanted no Desert trace in her palace, because a Hutt can control the Desert, a Hutt can shut the Desert out. Anakin liked the dust he was cleaning away, though. He knew the truth. He knew sand could rise, and rise, and rise, and cover every Master’s throne, cover the palace, cover whole cities, cover entire worlds. He knew it could slip into the shackles’ gears and erode the steel, it could blows into Masters’ eyes and blinds them. Sand was powerful and unstoppable. He knew one day it would have set his people free.

told my girlfriend that if she proposes i want a secondhand wedding ring. i explained i don't want to contribute to a vanity-based industry like diamond mining, and that it would be important to me to continue marriage traditions in a way that causes minimal environmental and personal harm. she asked me if i was just trying to roll the dice on obtaining a haunted object, and i told her i can want two things.

in case no one’s told you yet, you feel exhausted and hungover and sometimes even sick after panic attacks/meltdowns/flashbacks/dissociative episodes/etc. because of very real chemical processes that are involved in your nervous system activation and de-activation during those times. it’s chemical dump effects, and no, you SHOULDN’T be able to just brush it off and feel and act normal. you’ve got a bunch of physical things that got activated and that all has to wind down. It’s not in your head, it’s very physical, and you need to work WITH your body during the after-periods instead of trying to curb stomp it. be gentle to yourself, okay?