✨️Cal Kestis ✨️Jedi Survivor✨️

Say something true!

Necron Overlord and c'tan shard by Kannovaku on twitter

wait. wait a minute.

remember when fearne was asked if she was a princess and she genuinely couldn't remember before saying "well, my parents used to tell me i was LIKE a princess!"

remember how the unseelie courts had a vested interest in killing her family (explicitly having an assassin "end their bloodline") and had apparently had some problems with her family? how she had to be sent off to live with a hag that constantly kept her locked up so nobody could see her and had a garden of dead people right on the outskirts of their home?

what if that's the twist? grand duchess fearne calloway romanov of the unseelie court.

three years ago my sister died so today i ate sour candy for breakfast and watched four hours of impractical jokers and got a spontaneous matching tattoo with my brother. overall i’m handling it very well

"A bit thin in the aether, but there's no mistaking it—the color of its soul is almost identical to Azem's." "The two of us can discern the color of souls, you see, and yours happens to resemble that of a friend."

good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.

y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.

I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.

I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?

when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?

that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:

what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?

it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.

and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.

there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.

I haven't seen anyone else comparing this scene to that one wolf meme so I'm doing this by myself 😭

DINO | sector 17 official photo shoot sketch

Ehehehehhe your coming with me >:3

omigosh—

B E A N S ? ? ?

i don’t want hajun to be mysterious, beautiful and elusive. i want him to see his messy, fractured moments. no more bare minimum details. i need to be acquainted with visceral details of his childhood.

give me 13 year old hajun in japan, alone and confused and still convinced that this whole thing is a ruse and his parents will come get him eventually. i need 14 year old hajun still clinging onto the hope that if he’s good enough and proves himself his parents will take him back. i want 15 year old hajun disabused of all his faith in his parents and realising home is nowhere now, and he is fundamentally unwantable unless he learns to wear the right masks and say the right things. little hajun who had to figure everything out by himself, while knowing his existence made no difference to his parents back home anyway. now it’s his life and the only person to whom it matters is himself.

i wonder if he had a phase where his anger was just like dongha’s — wet, guttural, thrashing, amorphous. when exactly did it take shape into the cold, sharp thing it is today? i want him slowly getting sick of breaking his own heart with his own wanting. i want him meeting allen and experiencing the terror of caring for someone for the first time. i want him falling back on the “vengeance on my parents” narrative because he can’t admit to himself that allen and anne appeared in his life at a time when his walls weren’t fully up yet and now they’re here to stay after he’s so carefully built himself up to avoid abandonment by avoiding intimacy altogether. i want to see him growing up and retreating slowly further and further into himself the more he realises he won’t be able to survive losing allen and anne, i want him disgusted by his own wanting and uncomfortable with himself but so distanced from his own feelings that the only way he can process / experience anything close to it is by antagonising others to create congruent reactions within them just so he knows what it’s like to feel something.

i want him alone in his room and suddenly so crushed by emotion but incapable of identifying them because he never grew up with the tools to define his own experience. maybe that’s also why making music with bae matters to him (since their theme revolves around taking charge of your own narrative). he built himself a sense of self from scratch and still he couldn’t outgrow his childhood fear of being unwanted. yeah he’s sadistic and callous and morally dubious, but he wasn’t born that way. i am asking once again i need the visceral detail. the guts of it. but i may be crazy.

discord wanted shiloh lore, I Gave Them Shiloh Lore

edited version will be posted to the shards acc soon 💪

yeah, it sure is, little buddy...

Mabel

yeah no I’m doing great I totally haven’t gone into one of my phases where I mod the absolute shit out of stardew valley so I can have complete and total control over something in my life

I like how I THINK there is only one enemy lurking right in front of me until....