#I have plans for this man

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

(Thanks to @feelinkeeli for suggesting this clone!)

Muzzle is feeling something he’s mentally relating to claustrophobia from being in this system so long. For the first year of the war, Maze and Fett tossed him at little problems, letting him go solo at first and then assigning him a babysitter of a LT after the little incident with Admiral Tarkin—the bastard deserved to get his jaw broken—and then a few missions later he’d gotten stuck here, leading an offensive against one of the most annoying generals the Separatists must possess.

The men that are, somehow, under him no longer cower to his glares. They ask him how he’s doing. They cheer him on.

Who do they think he is, Spar?

Speaking of that particular mess, Spar and his Jetiise should be arriving any minute. It’s hard to rail against his fate, stuck here, when this was supposed to be Spar’s life. Instead he’s stuck playing Fett’s political game, trying to keep the other Alphas from worrying too much about him. Muzzle knows better, though. Hell, even Sull and Tavo and their little clique who tried to not pay too much attention to Spar back on Kamino know.

He’s sick. Even if he mostly looks better, he’s still sick.

“Sir, the proscribed ship is approaching. They’re being directed to the docking bay,” Muzzle’s LT, Dennis, says, looking more anxious than usual.

Muzzle barely spares him a glance and heads off to the docking bay. “Medics on stand-by?”

“Yes sir, just like last time.”

Spar’d come by last on one of Muzzle’s first missions with Dennis. Muzzle may have…overdone it, if his LT’s remembering it so well. “Good.”

Muzzle waits in an appropriate parade rest as the ship ramp comes down, but any view of him as a stern ARC is absolutely smashed by the way Spar comes flying down the ramp and nearly tackles him to the ground. It’s absolutely done in when he hugs Spar back. “Su cuy’gar, shebs,” he mutters.

Spar laughs, loud and joyful and a little forced. “Su cuy’gar, al’verde,” he retorts, dropping back to the metal floor of the docking bay.

Muzzle grimaces. “Who are you calling al’verde, eh?”

Spar blinks, then looks over at Dennis. 

Muzzle also looks at Dennis who abruptly drops his hands from whatever sign he was making and attempts to look innocent. Unfortunately for Dennis, he can’t even look innocent when he is, which is rare enough anyway. “What?”

“Nothing, sir,” Dennis says quickly.

Spar frowns. “Come on, don’t tell me no one told him.”

Dennis looks away.

“Did you even tell him you got a promotion?”

“What?” Muzzle asks. “Wait, what rank are you now?”

Dennis will not meet his eyes. “...Captain,” he admits, mumbling the world.

Okay, so they have the same rank now—. “And what rank do I have, Captain?”

“...Commander.”

Spar snickers. “I bet Maze didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me. Sure. More like he knows I’ll go back to Coruscant and kill him for this—wait does this mean…” No. No.

“You are the proud commander of a very decorated battalion,” Spar assures him. “They were very happy to petition for your promotion so they could keep you.”

Muzzle looks down at him. “I’m killing Maze.”

“Not until the war is won.”

Ugh. He’s right. They unfortunately need Maze to do all the paperwork and keep Fett from replacing the duraplast of their armour with cured aiwha hide.

Spar pats his shoulder. “Good man. Now deal with the fact you got promoted like an adult and not a cadet.”

Muzzle wrinkles his nose at him. 

Spar smiles.

One of the Jetiise clears their throat and Muzzle has to remember that right. Spar isn’t alone.

That’s something, at least. 

(I am not currently accepting clones to subject to Spar.)

[egophiliac]

doylist explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: probably something about space constraints and making sure two sprites in one seat aren't covering anyone else when they're not in focus

watsonian explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: he snuck in and is hiding from the teachers, don't give him away 🤫

(I've reached my limit of unsuccessful attempts at pulling them before I need to save keys for Halloween, so I've been living vicariously through youtube videos...but the fact that Gidel just pops up from under the desk to wave his arms around happily is really testing my resolve. D: I'm gonna die when they finally get to do alchemy...)

[popsicle-stick]

will you meet me halfway?

anyway i finished wolf 359 earlier this month and ive been insane ever since so i had to get this out my system. i Care for them so so Deeply

[whetstonefires]

You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.

Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.

The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.

She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.

I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.

But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.

The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.

(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)

And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.

And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.

Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.

But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.

That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.

She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.

This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.

Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.

Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.

Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.

😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.

[orxinus]

i needed a Ford to fit my every desire

he's talking to Deity Bill Cipher here

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[gilsart]

Just...gerita in general😩

My good man, you were extremely lucky, because I was drawing them just as you sent your request. You get the angsty fanart!

[saint-end]

banner i made for the halloween art competition on the dgm server! yay!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Halloween! 🧼🥩🎃

[imclou]

@head-in-the-icloud's Dawn and Dusk doodles from last week's magma. Drawing them is so satisfying istg, my hand cramped really bad but i held on til the end for that sweet sweet dopamine

|| Ref Sheet ||

Also this little ref sheet i made back in December.

[niinnyu]

Reverie

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[mary-james-world-of-shames]

Everyone know oavement on TikTok? Yeah. Love them. Have this comic I made late at night half trying to be sweet and the other half trying to make my sibling laugh.

[chialattea]

malevolent is kinda like if the lovecraftian entity beyond your mortal comprehension was your roommate and just as stressed about The Horrors as you. And also he was a massive bitch.

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."