#edit: piss mauling here

[kinos-fortress-2]

very self indulgement things for myself uhhh... when shes super drunk she need a personal boob to rest.

[karlachismylife]

Blind Spot || The Queen of the Clan pt.3

CW: fem!chubby!reader, kinda stalking and privacy invasion (what privacy out in the savanna though), mentions of pissing/marking

You're still shaken even by the end of the day, and you're not alone in this state: no one fancies being trampled, no matter how beuatiful the wild black and white horsy lolipops are, and even the local guides look unnerved by today's brush with a horrific death. So you don't feel weird when you find yourself restless and on high alert deep into the barely moonlit night - even though Kir has it better than you and breathes evenly in the sleeping bag next to you, he mutters something like "careful" when you climb out of your tent. He understands, doesn't complain - honestly, a great fucking guy to have as your friend here.

The night is quite cooler than the frying pan that the days out here are, but it's still relatively warm and filled with loud noises, making it feel much more welcoming, even though by logic you should be more afraid of the darkness filled with so much wildlife than of a still, silent night. You and your human vision are no better than unsuspecting antilopas stocking up on some grass for an upcoming migration - an easy target for a silent predator, whose glinting eyes in the night vision camera will be the last thing flashing before it pounces you.

But then again, you have everyone around you to alert of an intruder: cautious birds, crickets, loud enough to make your eardrums vibrate as you pass their invisible high grounds on quiety rustling grass blades. Even some distant monkeys calling each other, ready to warn everyone around them like the good neighbours they are. That's probably more than your human neighbours in the city would do for you, if they even had noticed an intruder under late night TV or headphones.

Surely, you're safe enough in the confines of a camp to step aside and pee before going back to sleep.

You turn around to be greeted with a sight straight out of Conan Doyle's Hound of the Baskervilles, savannah edition. A huge, dog-like figure, looming right in the passage between tents ominously, a bare skull where its head should be.

If you didn't have to piss before, you sure do now.

The animal seems to sense the way your heart drops, fingers growing cold immediately, a potential shriek stuck in your throat, and moves. Takes a step back. Gets its lowered, unthreatening head out of the complete darkness - a pair of plush, round ears, one chipped harshly, light mane and an uneven patch of lighter fur on its mangled, but still adorable in its way, muzzle (so that's the skull) revealed.

A fucking hyena. Again. At least not the one that already took a habit of nuzzling up to you and using your backpack as its toilet - although, judging solely by size, this one would be more dominant - even though dominant hyenas don't usually go around looking like they were mauled by their whole clan. Still, who's to say it won't decide to go and spray over the other's scent just to prove who's more important? A single thought of getting your stuff double-scented makes your eyes water. Hyenas fucking stink.

"Don't you dare come piss on my stuff, you fucking Baskerville mutt," you threaten the hyena quietly, backing off into the patch of grass you intended to water. The hyena scoffs at you, but bows its head again. Its eyes - just two glistening orbs in the scarce lighting you have here - don't seem all that pleading and submissive, like the other one's did, but you know better than to judge animals by their eyes. They're not humans, no matter how similar their behaviour sometimes is, and you have to rely on indicators like their stance and vocalization.

Your ghostly visitor seems to be pretty calm. Perhaps got attracted by the unfamiliar hyena's smell you brought with yourself, and now is mostly confused and wary of the bulky tents with many humans inside - and one lucky human outside.

"There's no food for you here. You better go hunt somewhere else, or you'll be hungry," you try not to think that there is very much food for the hyena - namely, you - and back away further. The hyena that seemed quite content with just standing in one place all hauntingly, suddenly moves, pushes its ears back and whoops at you, making you stop abruptly.

The grass right where your foot would be planted moves silently and a single glint of a snake hurrying away from the big clumsy distrubance sends a shiver down your spine. You can't make out what snake it was, but you sure as hell don't mind never knowing compared to the other alternative. You shoot a glance at the hyena in its guarded position, and you find yourself able to follow the snake's path by the subtle movements of your fluffy savior's eyes. Huh. Not even a full twenty-four hours, and you're already saved twice by hyenas. If that's not the biggest middle finger to the Lion King, then what?

"Do you mind staying on watch while I pee, maybe?" you chuckle, teasing the hyena - surely it doesn't understand you, but it lets out a low whiny growl, as if acknowledging that it heard you try and communicate with it. You comtemplate hiding behind someone's tent (that's not very neighbourly, though) or a rover (too far, and who knows how many more snakes are there to taste your ankles along the way), but the train of thought lands back where you started: putting on a show in front of a hyena out of a ghost story.

You'll just have to pray that it doesn't consider you simply relieving yourself as an attempt to assert dominance or call dibs on its territory.

Surprisingly, the hyena averts its eyes as you crouch down in an uncomfortable position, your legs already cramping and the very real fear of anything crawling into your panties keeping you from actually letting go. When you finally manage, your guard's ears twitch, turning to the hissing sound, but it almost makes a point to keep its muzzle turned away - the logical explanation would be that there's actually something more interesting for the animal in the direction it's looking at. But you can dream of a respectful hyena ghost standing guard while you struggle to pull your pants back up, right?

You circle the hyena on the way back, keeping your eyes on it the whole time, and it turns its big patterned head to follow you too, wagging its tail lazily once or twice as you nearly stumble on the uneven ground. You only turn away from him, pretty much fed up with your night escapades (what did you want though, you're in the middle of the animal kingdom), as you try to open your and Kir's tent.

And then you hear the rustling and a low grumble. Alerted, you lift your head, prepared to scream as a last attempt to wander the predator off, only to find it fully laying on the ground, snout-first in the dust, rolling around and getting sand and dirt into its mane as it rubs its hide desperately at a certain spot on the ground.

The spot you just peed on.

"Ew, pervert," you react faster than you should, words slipping out as if you were actually witnessing a human do the same, not an animal that's very much used to rubbing its scent off on others and recieving the same treatment. But then again, what hyena wants human scent on its fur?

The hyena seems to hear you though. Its jolly tossing stops immediately, and you meet its huge dark eyes for a moment, before it makes another whiny grumbling noise - much more high-pitched this time, as if you caught the poor furry baby off guard and embarassed it - and scatters away, rushing silently through the night until it simply dissolves into the darkness.

Just like a ghost should.

Part 2 | Part 3.5 | Part 4

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Tagging: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861

honestly i don't know if posting updates so fast is a good idea, but i'm an attention whore and seeing people enjoy this thing overdozes me on dopamine better than any differential equation could, so i'll try and make updates as each previous chapter reaches a 100 notes. also a reminder that i will eventually block ageless blogs interacting at least with the nsfw chapters, so please take a minute and put your age in your bio or pinned post!

you can ask to be added to the taglist under series masterlist post

[greenleaf4stuff]

Decided to spontaneously edit and publish the 2nd round of ideas for the ask game by @whenimaunicorn (original post here)

"The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)"

The answers are a little bit more suggestive this time, in that they hint that the characters might continue their activities and add some non-G-rated ones, but nothing of that kind actually happens in these snippets. It's just more smooches. Enjoy!

The pairings are: Adar/Elrond (modern!AU, ver2) Adar/Gil-Galad (modern!AU) Adar/Elendil (modern!AU)

I also already crossposted these to the AO3 drabble collection for my ask game answers.

Adar/Elrond (Modern!AU) (Ver 2)

Adar and Elrond have to go into the closet together. Elrond seems pretty pissed off about it, Adar affects an air of nonchalance – in part because he has absolutely no idea what the peredhel’s deal is.

After a few silent, somewhat awkward moments in the closet, Adar quirks an eyebrow and turns to Elrond, who is glaring at him. When he asks what Elrond’s problem is, he snarks about Adar making moon eyes at Galadriel, and then breaks into a tirade about the uruk better leaving his best friend alone.

Adar is a bit stunned – he’s flirted with Galadriel, yes. He’s also flirted with all the other elves. Including Elrond. He first tries to calm Elrond down, but when the other starts turning red-headed starting from the cheeks (and the tips of his ears, funnily enough) because of his anger, Adar turns fully towards him and they start getting heated.

Eventually, they are standing pretty close together and Adar snarks something about how 'actually kissing would have been far preferable to whatever this is', and then Elrond suddenly just stops, purses his lips, glares, takes Adar’s head and – kisses him. And then walks him backwards into the closet wall and practically climbs into his mouth.

(Elrond is indeed protective of Galadriel. It just so happens that he also maybe-kinda-sorta has a crush on Adar too. His wasn’t a blush of anger.)

Adar doesn’t know what is happening for a good moment, before he starts kissing Elrond back. The other can hold his own against him, is a good kisser, and Adar cannot deny that he actually thought about kissing Elrond before (and more).

When they leave the closet, kiss-bitten and flushed, Galadriel and Gil-Galad look ready to kill the uruk. Who actually hasn’t been much for serious relationships for quite a while now. Seeing their glares – and even more importantly, Elrond’s flustered face – Adar knows something casual is not going to cut it with this one.

However, when Elrond does indeed put himself between Adar and the wrath of two overprotective elves and then gives him a small, apologetic smile afterwards, the uruk finds he doesn’t actually dislike the idea of going steady with the other. Quite the contrary in fact.

Adar/Gil-Galad (modern!AU)

They are both side-eying the other as they enter the closet. The others seem a bit apprehensive – as if the two could get into an epic fight or even a brawl if left alone for too long. Galadriel of all people tries to make Gil swear not to cause a scene. He refuses to answer.

The two quickly start throwing barbs at each other. Anything they can imagine that would be better than being stuck in that closet with the other one – getting mauled by a warg. Starring in one of Sauron’s beige instagram videos. A drinking contest with a group of dwarves.

Still, they gravitate towards each other. It turns to boasts about their own prowess. "You‘d have to work hard to impress me," Gil-Galad claims. "I could make you melt with just my mouth," Adar retorts.

"Is that so? Well, if you are more than just big, empty words – prove it."

Adar knows it’s a trap, but the bait is too good not to take and he’s assured of his 'victory', so he goes all in and they kiss.

Adar thinks he has the superior strength on his side, which might indeed be true – but Gil-Galad has a little something called a 'refined technique' and it’s quickly turning Adar to mush in his hands and under his mouth. The uruk barely knows up from down when they break the kiss for a moment, and readily submits when Gil goes for seconds.

Safe to say, when the other elves open the closet doors to let them out after some very high-pitched moaning, a decidedly smug if unflappable Gil-Galad and a very confused and dishevelled Adar step out.

Gil goes back to drinking his wine as if nothing happened. Adar is tickled enough that, once the evening is over, he stalks up to Gil and demands a 'rematch'. Gil is only too willing to kiss Adar into the ground a second time, but this round, he’ll take him back his place instead of a closet.

Adar/Elendil (modern!AU)

They both groan when they get chosen to go into the closet together – not because they hold any antipathy for each other, but because they think the whole game is pretty ridiculous and they cannot believe they got roped into it in the first place.

Still, they decide not to be a spoilsport. Elendil makes a whole 'after you' gesture and holds open the closet door for the uruk when they enter the closet. It’s kind of goofy but also endearing in Adar’s opinion.

They stand there awkwardly for a while, before they end up complaining to each other how this whole situation is a baloney. They are too old for this kind of bullshit, and anyways, whoever thought it would be fun to put people in a tiny, stuffy closet together? Whoever thought kissing in a tiny, stuffy closet would be nice?

They don’t get it. However, Elendil ends up turning to Adar with a curious expression on his face. Adar raises his eyebrows at him. "Wanna try?" the man asks, expression completely serious and sounding as if he doesn’t just ask for the sake of it, but because he might actually be interested?

After a moment, Adar shrugs and goes. "Sure, why not." It’s not exactly romantic at first, but when they end up kissing properly, they quickly lose themselves in it – both of them are actually good kissers, both know what they want, and once they’ve figured out where to put their hands and what works, it is actually pretty enjoyable to kiss in a tiny, stuffy closet.

After a moment, Elendil draws back, panting heavily and goes: "As much as I like this, I am indeed to old to go further in the confines of a cupboard without regretting it in the morning."

Adar just smirks. "Then you might be glad to know that I have a perfectly servicable bed back at my place that we could make use of. If you wanted to."

Elendil grins at him. It’s incredibly attractive, Adar thinks. "Is that so? Well, I can hardly just take your word for it – seems like I’ll have to check out that fabled bed of yours for myself."

They are slightly flushed but deliberately casual when they exist the closet. However, after a short while, Galadriel notices that neither Adar nor Elendil can be found anywhere, and it is Celebrimbor who points out that Elendil’s car is missing from the parked cars outside, while Adar’s bike is still there.

[issylra]

lol @ dream going in the reciprocation fic : “sigh fine I guess I’ll let you give me a blow job 🙄”

and for the fic tag could you share another snippet from monsters 🥺

I'm having a lot of fun revisiting different time periods in the spilled ink verse, and "reciprocation" is definitely the cusp of Dream realizing that it's okay to actively want things, and for the attention to be solely on his pleasure. Even if it's going to break his brain a little.😂

Anyway, here is a another snip from the Mafia AU sequel. Fair warning that I have done very little editing (and again for a very unhealthy relationship):

When Hob turns his phone on the next morning, there are five missed calls. The first four are Matthew, one after another. Then Dream. Dream calling him at two o'clock in the morning. Hob's stomach does a funny little flip, one he can't entirely blame on his hangover.  "We needed you last night," Matthew tells him, just as loud over the phone as he tends to be in person. Hob winces, both at Matthew's tone, and at his own reflection in the mirror. There's a string of love bites from his ear to his shoulder, a kaleidoscope of reds and purples across tanned skin. He looks like he's been mauled by a wild animal. "The boss is pissed." Frustration surges up in him, has his grip on the bathroom counter turning impossibly tight. One night. One night of not being at Dream's beck and call. His jaw clenches. "Yeah, well. What else is new?"  Corinthian's laughter is loud in the background, and if Hob weren't so exhausted, he'd be even angrier over being unknowingly put on speaker. "Lapdog spends a single night off the leash and now he's all bark," Corinthian snarks, and Hob can feel his blood pressure continuing to rise. "I'm not his bloody lapdog."

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Accidentally found that blog that made that one comic about a slasher and his bubbly happy-go-lucky gf (edit: found it again, it's @/bludragongal , go look at her stuff lol (DO NOT TAG HER PLEASE I AM FEAR)) thought "there should be like... A monster genre version of it"

My head started spitballing shit for it immediately after.

Concept under the cut because beeg

Human character: Sandra H. Prolly a goth girl (or at least like- not bubbly but also not deppressed, still can and WILL kill if she's angry enough, just like the og) with a ridiculous love and interest in animals, especially freaky creatures, flora and fauna and shit like that. By "ridiculous love and interest" i mean like- she loves these things so much her vibes walk up to you and say "dude idk bout you but i think she's autistic"

Monster character: Krang. Alien monstrosity that is currently hiding here and there because. It's. It's an alien. An extraterrestrial living being, stuck on earth and decided to just vibe lol. Instead of killing because yes, it's only gonna maul you if you piss it off or something, like- oh you slapped them? Hm. Death :). It's also highly smart, prolly learns how to speak english with a certain someone's help and he learns REALLY fast. Design wise i'm thinking it's based on the creatures from that horror movie called A Quiet Place, minus the hearing shtick and the feral is lessened down to like. Cat levels of gremlin. Yes it's also a smug, snarky and mischievous bastard, but that's not stopping the fluff potential.

The meeting: Sandra is walking around with friends after having set camp purely to vibe because god damn it it's nearly the end of the year and shit they get to have a break for once from their work and stuff, and they're all like chill and jokey, cracking the worst of jokes (some dark ones too, Jared you can't friggin' joke about INFIDELITY that's horrid nooo get smacked upside the head you jerk lol), and they suddenly hear screeching and growling from somewhere deeper in the forest, and one of them goes "ayo who's gonna check it out" and Sandra one proposes rock paper scissors to decide. Sandra loses and kicks the winner in the knee because man fuck you honestly.

Sandra walks deeper into the forest to find the source of the noise. Deeper and deeper and deeper... Until she finds a freakish, monstrous creature trying to break free from a bear trap, growling and screeching from the pain of the little cursed machine biting into it's flesh. Sandra gasps and runs over to the creature to get the bear trap off his leg, and it just growls lowly as a warning. No. Get away, life form. I can do it myself anyway. It's just a little primitive machine. It's smart but not enough to hold me back. Stay away. But she's stubborn and convinces the creature to let her help... It reluctantly accepts, and she pries the bear trap open, letting him get out of it.

She tells the creature that it's gonna call for her friends, who are also of her species, but it's not for anything malicious, it's to help him heal. The alien creature growls lowly as a form of expression Aka it's offended that Sandra is willing to help him THIS much when it can heal on it's damn own, but she insists because she genuinely cares a lot about it and doesn't want him to be hurt. The creature reluctantly accepts but only because he doesn't want to be too mean.

She calls for her friends, they find it and try to help (and control themselves, Andy no you can't take pics of him to post on your Instagram that's risky and besides you can't take mean comments towards you well at ALL) they help her heal the creature's wounds and done! He has bandages and shit! Usual health things! She asks him about his name and it just. Whispers in it's alien language. She doesn't understand it and asks again, to which the creature responds by grabbing a stick and writing on the dirt it's name... In the same alien language. Sandra just goes "i'll ask again later, you should learn english..." and it just growls lowly in disappointment like- god damn it i gotta learn english because human don't understand my language >:(

After that, Sandra waves goodbye and the creature runs away, back into hiding and vibing, and she and her friends go back to dicking around, not knowing it's not the last time she's gonna see it...

Their relationship: Krang develops a crush on Sandra not right after finding it or something like that- Krang is not familiar with human life forms and doesn't trust easily (also canonically semi tsundere lmao it's funny for me)- it's only developing a crush on Sandra once it decides to stalk her and spots her just. Vibing. Thriving happily in peace and tranquility without a care in the world.

She has a cat, she has a family, friends, she has a lot in her life... What does he have? Constant fear, worry, dread and anxiety from living in the wilderness, from having to hide from every single human, just so it can simply vibe. It takes shelter in sewers and caves and abandoned places, for crying out loud, it's lonely!

He's obviously not developing that attraction the moment it stalks her, no, they stalk her purely to learn because this human just. Saved me?? Human cares??? That's weird i should learn a bit more. It started as a little learning expirience, following her wherever, watching her do things just to learn a bit more of this particular human that decided to give him another chance in life.

Then it starts going a more "i wish that was me" route. It starts to feel envious of Sandra's peaceful life, her happiness and how comfortable she is in her own little world... It became a desire for a better, more comfortable life, following her wherever, watching her do things, just so calm and happy, without a care in the world... He has to take shelter in the most disgusting, lonely spaces just to have a tolerable chance of survival.

One day, it spotted Sandra walking around with her friends again, throughout a mall, supposedly planning to "watch that one movie they waited for so long to see", according to what it heard... It catches a glimpse of two men wearing a black disguise, making them nearly unidentifiable. It's not going to let them ruin Sandra's little joy, even if it's meaningless, it's joy nonetheless.

Two male young adults went missing that day, nobody knows what happened to them. Krang knows. They did it. Sandra's safe now and nobody has to know or get in their business.

After that, Sandra and her friends went walking back to their respective homes, gushing about the movie, just goofing off like they always do.

Sandra didn't expect the creature from a while ago to be in her house, playing with her dog. And Krang expected her to be happy to see him, but instead he got a very surprised /neg Sandra processing the fact there's the fucking creature in her god damn house what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

After that it's just a slice of life SLOW friends to lovers kinda thing, it learns english and finally answers the million ages old question /j: his name...

"So, funky thing... Now that you know english, what's your name?"

"..."

"I... Ammm... Krann..g"

"Krang, huh? It's a pretty name!"

"Pretty name for a pretty creature!"

"... Pret... Ty...?"

"Hrm... ////"

"Heheh! I'm Sandra, if you're wondering"

"... Pretty name... For a... Pret.ty... crea...ture"

"Eheheh... Thanks, i guess ////"

[trixree]

SEASON 3 EPISODE 17 SPECIFIC COMMENTARY FEAT. KALLUS MY BABY GIRL

He is SO MUCH TALLER than all the other imperials. This is less commentary and more of an observation. It is a critical observation. Mfer LEGGY. *edit: WIKI SAYS HE IS 6'5" HOLY SHIT (for your reference, I myself am 5'2", in shoes mind you. He could pick me up by the skull and wiggle me like a wet noodle)

Begrudging Uncle Kallus absolutely FURIOUS that Ezra is here the SECOND they are alone he is the Most Annoyed Man Ever to Live, beating out Kanan for the Most Pissed At Ezra Right Now Award "what the FUCK are you doing here" Ezra like 😒🙄😒 "here to save your ungrateful ass smh"

I only remember Lyste as the dude Leia cucked back in season 2 and I'm pleased to see he's still around Gagging For It (current subject: Kallus and his probably proportionate-to-his-height penis and by that I mean large)

Thrawn deciding to spar with death troopers in a tight little tank top with the door open right before his Special Find The Spy Meeting is the most ridiculous yet effective flex I've ever seen that's PEAK villain shit that's so fucking funny watch me body the SHIT out of these robo death goons real quick girls, help yourself to some coffee while you wait and listen to me grunt

Kallus going to get Ezra and finding him on the ceiling and the "WOULD YOU STOP THAT" this child collects uncles like a 7/11 bathroom stall collects graffiti. Uncle tally includes: Zeb, Hondo, Rex, Maul, and Kallus. They are all varying degrees of annoyed with him except for Hondo

My partner knows I have discovered Kalluzeb fic. He said at the beginning of the episode, "Wait, is Kallus ISB?" and without hesitation I rattled off his number and said "yes???" Like bitch?? Cmon. I said, "there is nothing I do not already know about this man. I know what he likes in bed, I know who carries his babies. I know more than you" and he was like "... yes indeed you do". When i told him about that One Steve Blum Tweet he fell over into the fridge with the force of it

THE WAY HE TACKLED LYSTE SO FAST AND SO BRUTAL MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD IMAGINE GETTING ABSOLUTELY BODIED BY A 6'5" SUB WITH MUTTON CHOPS 💀💀💀

"The PLANS have CHANGED because I have CAPTURED. FULCRUM" [Communucating SO HARD at his very dense nephew]

The "I can do more good here" line mirroring Sabine's from the previous episode when she goes back to Mando Land to help Clan Wren 🫶👌🤌mmmmMMMmm good soup

KALLUS' SMUG LITTLE FACE SAUNTERING OUT OF THAT MEETING WHERE THRAWN ABSOLUTELY MADE HIS ASS IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFIDENCE 💀 HAVING THE BEST DAY 💀💀💀 [4 Feet Away - Thrawn: "Kallus is FULCRUM"]

On season 2 of Star Wars Rebels for the very first time. Here are my very important and original takes:

Hera is Mother.

Kanan is the dad with Baggage who doesn't quite know how to Bond with his Boy but he's trying really hard!! He's trying SO hard!!! (It's really hard to watch)

Kanan is probably always asking Ezra if he wants to play ball out back. No Kanan, he wants to shoot guns and steal a tie fighter. He does not want to toss around the ball with you.

Zeb, Ezra, and Chopper have the vibes of a trio of brothers that operate under Gallagher rules. Their space tiktoks are probably fucking insufferable. Nothing but prank videos all around. Chopper's pranks are all questionably legal

Sabine is their cool lesbian sister of the family. I want the world for her. Everytime she's in a combat scene I shout "MANDOS CARRY" at my partner until we both devolve into chanting it

Chopper has killed for sport and enjoyed it. He will kill again

Rex is the fun uncle that tells Ezra all the graphic Clone War stories he wants and let's him try a sip of his space moonshine because he thinks it will be funny when Ezra does a violent spit-take. (He's right and it's hilarious).

Hera LOVES Rex, he reminds her of her childhood in a Good Way, and this gives Kanan hives because of his Trauma. He is always spying on them in painfully obvious ways when all they're doing is like. Playing that holochess thingie and shooting the shit about the Clone Wars.

I know Maul shows up eventually and I am so fucking excited for what he is going to add to this dynamic

[musclesandhammering]

“Sylki isn’t even a m/f pairing cause they’re both genderfluid!”

↘️ I really really wanted Loki to be canon genderfluid, but the problem with that is that in Ep 5, they do everything in their power to make both Loki and Sylvie seem Very Very cis. All the Loki’s straight up say they’ve never seen a female version of themselves, and Sylvie says that she was born a woman (and never shows any sign of presenting as anything else). Even if Ep 5 hadn’t happened, though, the only mention of anything gender-related is a little Easter egg in Loki’s file that says “Sex: Fluid”. Easily missed by a casual viewer, so not much confirmation at all.

“You’re biphobic if you have a problem with Sylki!”

↘️ Putting aside the fact that I’m actually bi myself… In real life, it’s totally valid for a bisexual person to only date the opposite sex, but on screen “Show, don’t tell.” is the golden rule. There are plenty of problems with Sylki other than the fact that it’s a m/f ship. However, it’s extremely frustrating for queer people to see the writers patting themselves on the back for giving us one (1) throwaway line that can be easily edited out for homophobic audiences, and then to see absolutely no further acknowledgment of Loki’s supposed attraction to men, along with him being shown openly flirting with 2 different women. It just seems awfully convenient to be able to tell and not show where m/m is concerned and then to show m/f where it isn’t even necessary.

“You just hate that a woman got in the way of your two white dudes kissing!”

↘️ If Sylvie was the main character and she had pretty good chemistry with a woman, and then all of a sudden a male variant of her was introduced and a romance was forced between them, I’d be pretty pissed about that too. I don’t want Sylvie out of the picture! My ideal scenario would be her and Loki being Chaos Twins. And I don’t even want Lokius to be canon! Again, my ideal scenario would be Chaos Twins with their best friend/handler Mobi. This isn’t about her getting in the way of another pairing, it’s about how this pairing in particular is just Not It.

“You just want Loki for yourself, you’d be mad at anyone he was paired with!”

↘️ No I… really don’t? I’m gonna get mauled for saying this, but I don’t even find Loki particularly attractive. Tom? Sure. But Loki? Mmmm… not exactly. Aesthetically pleasing maybe. Intellectually I know that he’s pretty hot, but he doesn’t do anything for me :/ I also really really hate reader inserts sooo yeah lol. And if you’ve seen my blog you’d know I ship him with a lot of people, both male and female.

“Sylvie is her own person so it’s not really selfcest!”

↘️ Except the writers have gone out of their way to make it clear that they are the same person. Not exactly the same, but they’re similar enough that it’s clear that they’re versions of each other. Plus they canonically have the same parents, very very similar DNA, and essentially the same basic origin (adopted, Asgard, etc). They’re not exact clones of one another but they very much are slightly different models of the same person.

“Selfcest isn’t the same as incest!”

↘️ No, it’s even worse lmao. Imagine two people that share parents, DNA, and some life experiences, but they’re even closer than twins…. Lol yeah.

“Ok but you gotta admit selfcest is pretty in character for Loki lololol”

↘️ No it’s not… One of my favourite things about Loki in all 6 movies is that he never had a love interest. Never even a hint of a love interest. And even in this show he makes it clear that he’s never really been in love before- never had anything “real”. And, this considered, people saying that it makes sense that his first and only canon love interest would be a version of himself implies that he’s incredibly narcissistic. Which, despite what some shitty writers try to tell us, he’s not. His narcissism is performative. It’s posturing. He’s incredibly insecure and self-loathing and that ends up manifesting as violence in some instances, and that’s his whole problem. The exact opposite of narcissism. Quite honestly, Loki would never trust or even like himself enough to be romantically interested.

“You just want Loki whump, you hate to see him happy!”

↘️ I do enjoy Loki whump on occasion, but at this point we maxed out on the whump meter about 3 movies back… I absolutely want this poor man to be happy, for once in his damn life. And the show gives us everything but that. Just like people said Ragnarok gave us a happy Loki, when in reality all we got was a humiliated Loki that was beaten down even further to build other characters up and give the audience a laughs… which is pretty much exactly what’s happening here. Not all the time! There’s some super progressive moments for his character development and mental health, but overall? The show isn’t giving us a happy Loki at all, and Sylki definitely hasn’t resulted in a happier Loki so far.

“They have great chemistry though!”

↘️ I’m sure any two characters could have good chemistry if the writing team put 85% percent of their effort for the whole show into squishing a man and woman together and making them kiss, even going so far as to build the plot around it, when they could’ve spent their time and energy improving other aspects of the series.

“Ok you have to admit the blanket scene was pretty cute!”

↘️ Yes, I will admit that! It was adorable actually! But given the myriad of issues I listed above, one cute scene isn’t enough to make me hate the ship any less.

[metataxy]

Darth Maul, post-Order 66 fanfic, #15

After Order 66, Darth Maul accidentally acquires a child.  Spoiler alert, it’s Seventh Sister.

This isn’t going on AO3 until I finish and edit the shit out of it, but you can read what I’ve done so far here:

Maul 1, Maul 2, Dathomir 1, Maul 3, Dathomir 2, Maul 4, Dathomir 3 , Dathomir 4, Maul 5, Maul 6, Maul 7, Metane 1, Maul 8, Maul 9, Lothal 1, Seventh as a Nightsister

This is set after Maul 9.  

Warnings for this segment: Euthanasia (?), casual ableism and racism by stormtroopers, Ventress acts sexually provocative to try to piss Maul off (it works), Maul’s self loathing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He came awake slowly from the dream, the memory of Parnassa’s wicked dark eyes fading like an afterimage as he stared up at the ceiling of his cabin.  The smell of her seemed to have crossed over from his dreams and lingered in the cool recycled air.  

He took a deeper breath, as though the action could clear away the memory of a scent.  Somehow, it only intensified, took on notes of damp earth and smoke, as though she were here.

Ventress, he realized.  He was sensing Ventress.  

He didn’t need to kill her immediately, he supposed.  

This resolution would be put to the test an hour later, when he discovered she’d eaten half his remaining steaks.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stelkin sat in the corner behind a shipping crate, trying not to shake, not to make the least noise that might remind the Jedi of his presence.  He was failing.  He breathed raggedly.

The Lieutenant was dead.  He’d tried to <i>protect</i> that vicious little Jedi, and the aliens had killed him for it.  

If only he’d just let Moakes kill the girl.

Except, he choked back a sob, it wouldn’t have worked.  All four of them hadn’t been able to fight the Red Man.  He’d subdued them all barehanded, but a Purgetrooper could do that, had done that in their drills.  Apart from Creel swearing he saw the man float the body of their dead comrade when they’d first boarded the ship, the Jedi Master had done nothing an ordinary specialist couldn’t.

But just now…

The new Jedi, a skeletal woman of a species he’d never seen before, had tried to shoot them on sight, for no reason.  The Red Man had stopped it with nothing more than his mind.  Which meant… he could have destroyed them when they’d first boarded without even bothering to touch them.

The woman fell two stories and landed on her feet. She’d killed Creel before Stelkin had even noticed what had happened, and then they’d blurred across the deck, flinging rubbish at one another while fighting hand to hand.  The tiny Jedi had hidden in one corner, Stelkin in the other, both ignored by the combatants.  He’d glanced across to the little alien, her black eyes too big for the face of a human child, clad tidily in a dress that could have bought a month’s food on Murkhata.  For a moment, he’d had the urge to kill her.

And why not?  She was the reason they were all going to die, the ungrateful little bitch.  They could have been laughing in barracks right now, and she could be safe in an Imperial academy, if only she’d just come along quietly when they’d asked her.  

He glanced back at her, at the Jedi leaping and twisting through the room.  They were distracted.  He could kill her before they’d noticed.

He looked back at her, her big, sad eyes staring back at him, like the eyes of that feral tooka that he’d found half dead in an alleyway when he’d been a boy.  He should have killed that tooka too, he remembered.  Fresh meat of any kind was rare on Murkhata.  He hadn’t.

He paused too long, and the girl skittered away, to the other side of the room, wary as an alleycat, her eyes accusing.

She knew what he’d planned to do.  

And then, the Jedi had stopped fighting, and carted the girl off, leaving him alone with Moakes and Creel’s corpse.

He should probably check on Moakes.

He drew in a staggered breath.

Right.

Despite the resolution, it was some time before he crawled across the hangar bay to the clone’s side.  He checked the man’s pulse.  Still steady.  Recalling the Jedi Master’s lessons to his apprentice weeks ago, he opened Moakes’ eyes.  

His pupils were huge again.

Stelkin leaned back on his hands and thought hard about the past few weeks, about what the woman had said, what the Red Man had promised.

Then, he pulled Moakes into his lap, pinched his nose, and covered his mouth.  

There was no struggle.  It seemed to happen quickly.  His heart stopped and Stelkin laid him down on the deck, and then thought about Creel’s knife, still in his pocket.

The door to the upper deck swung open above him, and he scrambled back into his corner.  A moment later, the woman slung herself over the side again, blaster in hand.  She aimed it at him—

“Please!” he yelled, hating how his voice whined and broke, like he was still fourteen and begging on the streets.  “Please!  Don’t—don’t kill me!”

The Jedi woman stared him down impassively.  “If I don’t, eventually he will. But not before he’s reduced you into a gibbering mess and made the girl watch.”

“But you’re not going to let him do it, are you?” he pressed.  “Are you?”  She lifted Creel’s body with a gesture, and floated it into the airhatch, followed by Moakes.

“Any last words for them?” she asked dully.

“What?” he sputtered, then realized what she was doing.  “I thought that alien was going to dissect or, or eat them or something--”

“And you’d prefer that?”

“No!” he exclaimed.  “No—that’s fucked up, even for whatever the hell he is, why would—sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean—”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yes, it’s ‘fucked-up’,” she agreed, droll.  “So no last words then?”

He thought rapidly.  Creel had some kind of religion.  Moakes too, maybe.  He hadn’t paid much attention to any of it.  He swallowed and mumbled out what he could remember before the recycling of other dead soldiers.

“To the memory of true men who lived and died for the Empire...” he stuttered over the words, repeating as much as he could remember.  “To Moakes, who…” he strained to remember what the clone had done in battle and gave up.  “Who shot down traitors,” he decided.  He was a clone.  If he hadn’t done it himself on Victory Day, someone had.  “Who cleaned Coruscant of—what, wait!” The woman had hit the vent control, and their bodies floated off into space in a burst of pressurized air.

“You were taking too long,” she told him.  She turned away.  The lift descended on its own.  She stepped up on it.

“But—but what about—” The lift began to ascend, he tried to step onto it.  She pushed him back, not hard, but he fell back on his ass.  “Help me!  Please”

The Jedi woman hefted her blaster pointedly.  “I was going to.”

The lift rose.  The bitch walked away without a backward glance.  

Stelkin was left alone.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maul’s reaction to Ventress’ utter disregard for his suggestions was more or less what she’d expected.

“You killed one of my captives and threw out the other’s corpse!” Maul snapped, barging into the cabin she’d claimed.

“Well, good morning sunshine,” she grumbled, checking to ensure Maul was too far away to tackle her before lazily stretching out on her pallet.  The motion made her blanket slip down several inches.  It was the only thing between her and the cool cabin air.  Maul tracked its progress reflexively and then flushed and fixed his gaze determinedly at the wall.

How <i>sweet</i>.

“You had no right!”

“Mmm.  I left you the one we bet on.  Even though our fight in the cargo bay was a draw at best.”

“I did not agree to that.”

“Didn’t you?” she licked her lips thoughtfully.  “My mistake.”  She sat up, and the blanket fell further.  Maul looked pained.  

Core modesty.  Charming.  The Dathomiri were less concerned with nudity.  Ventress hadn’t been raised among them, but she’d been raised by a temple Jedi in a community too undeveloped and impoverished for ordinary plumbing.  Everyone bathed in the river.  Women in the mornings, men in the evenings: that was their concession to modesty.

“I understand wanting to keep pets, cousin, but if you don’t clean up after them, they start to smell.”

“You couldn’t smell them up here.”

“In the Force, fool.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What are you teaching my apprentice?” Maul demanded, storming into the room after his last sleep cycle.  Ventress, who seemed to never sleep and was no worse the wear for it (the <i>witch</i>) didn’t even twitch from her position sitting cross-legged on the floor, across from Maul’s student.

“What does it feel like, man?”

“Jedi,” he swore.

“My, my, you aren’t a total ignoramus,” she murmured.  Her eyes were shut, but she still managed to catch his ankle when he tried to kick her.  Metane dove out of the way to watch them fight.  After three days of having Ventress on board, the action was almost a reflex.

It should be good for the girl, to see what real warriors could do in combat, except she had taken an irritating interest in Ventress.  

They feinted and dodged, and in the middle of all this, managed to have something that resembled a conversation.

“You’re teaching her Jedi techniques,” Maul panted.  “What—” he grunted as she hit him in the stomach, “for?”

“Figure it out, dumbass,” she taunted, doublekicking him across the table and putting a couple new dents in the wall behind him.  Metane winced, though Maul sensed her dissatisfaction was aimed less at the beating he was taking, and more at the mess she’d have to clean up when they had finished.  “The Jedi have healing techniques.”

He headbutt her and left a gratifying row of scratches down her chin and neck.  “The Sith have their own means of healing that transcend the limits of whatever the Jedi achieve. Achieved,” he corrected.  As before, the past tense wasn’t satisfying as it should have been.

“Oh, because Sidious sat you down and told you all the details of those?” Ventress taunted.  Maul locked his jaw and didn’t deign to answer her.  “He didn’t, did he?”  

“I didn’t need it.”

“Right,” Ventress sneered, her gaze drifting over his skin appraisingly, as though tallying up every scar she saw.  “Which is why you look like a walking corpse.”

He growled and redoubled his attack.

“You know, I did borrow one of my Master’s holocrons once?  Awfully dry.  Had the personality of some stuffy dead scholar.  Can’t imagine why anyone would bother forbidding it.”

By some mutual agreement, they separated from each other.  Ventress heaved herself into a chair and levitated a water pack to her hand.  Metane dashed to Maul’s side to give him a premixed electrolyte drink.  He forgave her, a little, for her interest in Ventress.

“Most Sith, even the old ones before the Ruusan Reformation, died years before their Jedi counterparts.  They didn’’t even die in battle.  They died of stupid shit like heart failure or strokes or cancer.  You know why, manling?” She paused expectantly.  

He didn’t bother answering.  She was going to tell him regardless.

“Because even if you have the Force, being angry all the time fucks up your blood pressure.”

“It hardly seems to have affected Sidious.”

“Because he’s slowly draining the lifeforce from the population of half a dozen Rim worlds to stay on his feet.  Not that it does more than that.  You’ve seen him without his make-up on,” Ventress pointed out.  “You don’t actually want your apprentice to look like that shrivelled old snake in twenty years.” She eyed him again.  “Though it’s probably too late for you.”

“Sith are above such petty concerns as appearance,” he lectured her.

“Right,” she agreed.  “Which is clearly why you’re wearing black leather trousers and a black synthsilk robe.”

“It’s traditional, and the leather and silk wear better.”

“It’s expensive and it fits well.  If she saw you dressed like this, I’m surprised Talzin let you off that rock.”

Talzin had no use for a gelding, Maul thought bitterly.  “She’s still alive then.”

Ventress sitting on the floor, settled her legs before her and stretched out her arms to hold her feet.  “You never bothered to check.”

“I was occupied.”

Ventress sniffed, unimpressed.

“She’s still alive then?” he pressed.

“Maybe,” Ventress said, budging to the side as Metane swept up the clutter they’d knocked down in their latest spat.  

“Is anyone else alive?”

“Why Maul,” Ventress murmured, arching backwards as she stretched, “planning a family reunion?  I never took you for the sentimental type.”

“Are they, or aren’t they?”

She shrugged insolently.  

He’d had it.  He leapt forward to tackle her again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hadn’t expected to gain any useful information from Ventress.  Neither Sith nor Nightsisters were known to share their knowledge generously.

Yet he was learning from her, albeit indirectly.

“Show me the healing trance again,” he ordered his apprentice.

He felt her focus on her body and the flow of energy within it, felt her focus on the small deaths of cells he’d previously directed her to sense on a greater scale in the now deceased clone.

Her breathing slowed and her mind stilled, and in his mind’s eye, Maul saw the Force subtly changing its course through her body, speeding the knit of connective tissue on the edges of a cut, flushing the byproducts of exercise out from her muscles, easing her pain.  

She didn’t feel like his apprentice right now.

She didn’t feel like a Jedi either, at least.

Breathing deeply, Maul tried to focus on his body, the way the witch had apparently told his apprentice.  Start at the tips of your toes—

He flexed his clawed foot.  Right.

-- and on, up to your ankles—

The metal of his legs felt alive as flesh.  Nightsister magick.  He’d never questioned it.

Up.  Up, to the raw stumps of his thighs and his mutilated groin, where the energy of his body swirled chaotically, and the battered organs above that, bruised in his long fall down the reactor shaft and steeped in toxins from ten years breathing in the fumes of Lotho Prime, and where and how was he even supposed to start…?  

He snarled the reason for his suffering.

“<i>Kenobi</i>.”

“It’s hardly his fault.”

His eyes opened on an empty room.  “Where’s my apprentice, witch?”

“In bed.  Probably where you should be, old man.”

He ignored the jibe.  “Then I will thank you to leave me to my rest.”

Ventress shrugged as though it were no concern of hers.  “Of course.  Get some beauty sleep.”  She curled her lip.  “Gods know you need it.”

“How long were you watching?”

“Long enough to snap your neck if I had gotten bored,” she responded casually.  

“You taught my apprentice this…trance… as a means to entrap me,” he reasoned out, furious, scrambling to his feet.  “You wanted me to try it so I’d be off my guard—”

“Yes, yes, my devious plan was for you to learn healing so you don’t simply die of natural causes before I can murder you in your sleep,” Ventress murmured tiredly, leaning back against the wall, her long fingers massaging her temples.  

“Why else would you—”

“Do you even hear yourself?” she mocked, then shook her head.  “Figure out, manling,” she said cryptically, turning out of the room.  “Good night.”

The door slid shut behind her.

Infuriating woman.

She clearly had no use for him.  She hadn’t killed him though, while he’d been distracted.  

He stripped down to his smallclothes for bed.  Sometime, during what he’d managed of a trance, the stumps of his thighs had ceased to ache.  

She’d become weak and sentimental then with the death of their clan, he decided with disgust.  Enough so to care for whatever remained of them.  Even a man who was hardly a man at all.

It fit.  He stared up at the ceiling in the dark and felt the bruises she’d left along his torso.  Even with all the fighting, it fit.  

He knew how a Nightsister cared for her men, after all.

-----------------------------------------

Notes

1. I’m curious about how Maul contends with his masculinity as a result of how Kenobi injured him, based on the expectations he inherited from Dathomiri culture and from Palpatine on gender roles.

2. I’m pretty sure this is obvious, but like, disclaimer... these people are NOT a model for an ideal relationship, okay?

[insert-geeky-things-here]

Judging You on Who Your Comfort Character Is - Star Wars Edition

A/N: In honor of Ahsoka turning out amazing in the newest episode of The Mandalorian, here’s me judging on who your comfort character is. Also, if you’d like to add on to this post, please do!

If any of your comfort characters is a clone, you’re easily the best judge of character and I would trust you with my drink at a party

However, if your Comfort Clone happens to be Rex, Fives, or Echo, you might be a bit predictable and easy to read though you’re probably in desperate need of a hug, kiss, or a cuddle session respectively. I’d trust you with my life

To the people who have Obi Wan as their comfort character: how long has it been since someone showed you any form of physical attention? No, your stuffed animal doesn’t count

You either have really good taste or really bad taste if Anakin’s your comfort character

If Mace Windu is your comfort character, you secretly crave him to say something along the lines of “motherfucker” that’s most likely directed at Anakin. I’m also terrified of pissing you off

Ahsoka: you’re either LGBTQ+, she’s the little sister you wish you had, or you have a friendship similar to that she has with Anakin

If your comfort character is Maul, you have problems dealing with authority and/or you have daddy issues. Don’t @ me

[omnifitense]

I posted 6,073 times in 2021

137 posts created (2%)

5936 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 43.3 posts.

I added 4,784 tags in 2021

#pfffffft - 1072 posts

#nice - 937 posts

#kingdom hearts - 499 posts

#nier - 432 posts

#aww - 429 posts

#amazing - 373 posts

#final fantasy - 352 posts

#pokemon - 283 posts

#aqua - 212 posts

#long post - 195 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#i've never played rdr and likely never will but the things you find when you search youtube for a piece of graffiti from lonesome road

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Daydreaming about the Legendary Edition hissyfit the pissbabies will throw if the ME collection doesn’t focus on Miranda’s ass every other cutscene.

18 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 18:10:23 GMT

#4

Be not afraid etc.

19 notes • Posted 2021-05-14 16:20:02 GMT

#3

“Here’s a sweet scene I commissioned from @selectural. Two of some of my favorite video game characters meeting, and I imagine they’d get along well. Thanks so much!”

i did not commission this, just found it and wanted to share the original tweet

32 notes • Posted 2021-05-04 22:44:45 GMT

#2

"We like Winter more than YOU do neener neener neener” is quite the spicy take from the people who said Winter was going to be Narnia’s White Witch back in volume 3 (based off the two scenes she had), who are still peddling the ‘Winter is going to join Salem’ theory because nothing says good writing like an abuse victim falling in with a different abuser for a second time, and who as recently as August dismissed her as an unrepentant fascist while whining about a crackship.

42 notes • Posted 2021-03-04 17:02:51 GMT

#1

69.1% of Jerma’s chat voted for him to confront a ‘bear’ in his yard. He then got mauled and pissed on by said ‘bear’, had to go to work right after, and when he got home, he got on his computer (located in front of his toilet, which is a real thing he used to do), streamed Call of Duty for like ten minutes and passed out midbroadcast.

947 notes • Posted 2021-08-20 21:26:36 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[redstarwriting]

Period Pain (2nd Edition)

Avengers x Reader(s)

Request: “This is a specific request but could I have a story where the reader has their period (A bad one, heavy and painful) and the Avengers (Anyones you want) take care of them. Please make it extra fluffy.”

Word Count: 2,759

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: swearing, period, mention of Ibuprofen

A/N: The first one of these did Really Well so I decided to write for the rest of the people I didn’t write about. I still have to do the Guardians, Loki, Valkyrie, and Carol, so keep your eyes out for those ones, too! I hope you enjoy this one!

───────────────────────────────────

Mother Nature must really hate you. You can’t move, your cramps are restricting you from functioning like a normal human being. The only time you got up today was to go to the bathroom to make sure you didn’t ruin your clothes and the sheets. You’ve been curled up in a ball for the past many hours, and even snapped at your significant other earlier. You feel bad deep down inside, but the pain you’re feeling overrides your remorse right now. You’re in the middle of your self loathing and hating being a female when in walks…

…Rhodey.

He walks slowly and quietly, making his way over to your bathroom. “Why the fuck are you walking like I’m a feral animal that will literally leap up and maul you to death if you make a sudden movement you fucking weird ass?” you say, louder than intended. He freezes, looking at you. “Did you not hear what you just said? How you just said it?”

“I did. Your point?”

“I just proved my-”

“What are you doing, James?” you look at him, your expression completely unamused. He’s actually quite scared and begins rethinking the idea he had. But he clears his throat and straightens his back. “I was just going to run you a bath so you can relax a little. I heard heat helps with the… girl pains?” You stare at him, raising your eyebrows. “They’re called cramps,” you say, and he smiles apologetically. “I heard heat helps with the cramps,” he repeats, and to his surprise, you smile. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?” He gapes at you, amazed at how your mood went from bloodthirsty to loving that quickly. “I try my hardest?” he replies, obviously very confused. “Let me know when everything’s ready, okay?” You sound very excited and happy and he smiles at you, “Of course.”

…Pietro.

Well, it’s more like you see a flash of blue, then have a weighted blanket covering you, then nothing. About two minutes pass before you see the flash again, and a heating pad is next to you on your bed. Then after another two minutes, some chocolate and your favorite food gets plopped down on your nightstand. You appreciate everything your dear loving boyfriend is doing, but goddamnit. Can he stay still? You just want him to hug you and stop. Moving. For. Once.

Before you know it, he’s sprinting in the room again, and you announce his name loudly, and it is quite possibly the fastest you ever said anything in your life. Much to your surprise and happiness he stops dead in his tracks. You can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face and the four bottles of water with a container of Ibuprofen in his hands. “Why are you running around like that?”

“Well, uh… you see…” he begins, slowly setting the things in his hands down next to the food he brought. “I know you are on your period right now and having a sister I know what that can entail,” he starts, and you stare at him with an amused expression. “Uh-huh…”

“And, well, I know what helps Wanda, but I do not know what helps you. So… I asked Wanda what I should do and now I am… doing all of what she suggested along with a google search. But I did not own all of the things I wanted to get for you, so I have been running back and forth from the store this whole time. Also, you are scary when you are mad. Especially when you are mad at me,” he finishes, and you burst into laughter. “Pietro, that’s adorable. Also, I was only mad at you because you gave me a reason to be mad at you. So, don’t give me another reason,” you say, and he smiles. His smile, however, turns quickly to a scared expression as he hears you say, “Now if you don’t get into this bed and cuddle with me and don’t leave, then I’ll be pissed!”

He has your favorite cookies baking in the oven. What is he supposed to do now?

…Stephen.

“I brought you some more Ibuprofen,” he says, walking over and setting it down next to you. “I hope it helps.” You glare at the back of his head as he leaves the room again. Dealing with this with medicine and heating pads works, yes, but you’d much rather have the warmth radiating off of Stephen’s body to make you feel better. Sadly, it doesn’t look like that’s about to happen.

He may be book smart as all hell, but boy is he dumb when it comes to dealing with literally anything else. He of course tries, but he is so clueless sometimes. This is one of those times. He knows that certain over the counter medicines will lessen your cramps, and that typically applying heat also helps with the pain that accompanies one of your organs genuinely attempting suicide inside of your body, but he really doesn’t know what to do to actually comfort you. He of course thought of laying down with you, holding you until you felt better. However, that wouldn’t be very efficient for him. He needs to make sure the universe doesn’t implode, after all. He can tell, though, that all you want is for him to be around because of the way you’ve been snapping at him all day. Luckily, he thought of another plan that he hoped would work.

You sigh into your pillow, the pain nowhere near stopping when suddenly you feel quite the cozy sensation. You turn your head, curious as to what just wrapped around your body, when you get a big whiff of your boyfriend. You giggle, realizing that the Cloak of Levitation has just wrapped you up in a little burrito. “Cloak, what are you doing?” you say, amused. That’s when a note appears next to you, and you pick it up. “Dear (Y/N), I really do wish I could keep you company right now and make you feel better, but I have quite the workload right now. Instead, I sent Cloak. I hope that’s okay for now, if I get any free time I’ll be there. I love you, Stephen.”

You smile to yourself. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t be. He was really busy after all, and the fact that he did think about how you felt was enough for you to know that he wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. Oh, and he did get some free time, but he didn’t want to interrupt yours and Cloak’s little nap. He just took a lot of pictures.

…Scott.

“I was thinking, maybe I can shrink up and go inside of you and see just how bad this uterus is acting and then give it a stern talking to,” he says, trying to lighten your mood by joking around. You think. He’s not serious right? “You’re not serious, right?” you ask, just to be positive that he wasn’t being a dumbass this time. “Oh no, your brain must be suffering from blood loss. Your humor is fading! Whatever shall I do?! Oh, what a cruel, cruel world,” he drops down to his knees, beginning to fake cry which causes you to giggle at him. “Calm down, Scott, my humor isn’t going anywhere. I just honestly never know when you’re being serious,” you tell him, and he gives you a grin. “Well, I can’t blame you there. I do have something that will cheer you up though.”

You give him a questioning look when all of a sudden Cassie runs into the room, hopping up next to you in bed. You smile as she snuggles into your side, giggling the whole time. “Hey there sweetie,” you say as Scot takes a seat on the bed next to Cassie, sandwiching her in between you two. “She’s been asking for hours to watch a movie, I kinda figured it would be better if all three of us watched it instead of just me and her.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say and hear Cassie shout a “yeah” in agreement. You and Scott chuckle at her reaction before he picks up the remote to the TV in your room, scrolling through Disney+ to find the right movie.

…Peter.

Well it’s more like he came through your window. “Karen said that I should get you these things,” he starts saying as soon as he touches down in your room. You glance over to his right arm full of medicine, a heating pad, lots of chocolate, and various feminine hygiene products. “I didn’t know which… things… you used so I bought all of the ones that I could carry, I hope that’s okay. Oh, and uh… I brought a lot of chocolate! I don’t really know why Karen said it might help, do you know why it helps? I mean, I obviously wasn’t like, ’No Karen, I don’t see how chocolate could help anyone in this situation,’ because I mean I don’t really know anything when it comes to this stuff but Karen’s a computer, so obviously she would know. Oh yeah, I brought a heating pad! Heat helps right? Or is this one of those things hear heat helps sometimes but the cold helps other times, oh crap, should I have gotten Icy Hot instead? I was right there next to it when I got all this other medicine… God I’m so stup-”

“Peter!” you make him stop rambling and one of the medicine bottles he’s holding falls out of his grip, and when he tries to save it, the rest fall. You laugh at his floundering to pick everything he just dropped back up. He rips off his mask and sighs. “I was just trying to help, you know. A now it’s all on the ground and-“

“Pete, just because you dropped it doesn’t mean it’s all useless.”

“I know, I know, I was just supposed to come in here all heroic and be like, ‘I’ve brought you what you need to feel better!’ and now it’s just…. it’s on the floor,” he says, and the disappointment in his voice is only the more endearing. “C’mere, Pete,” you say, opening. your arms so he can come hug you. “I’m all sweaty, (Y/N/N),” he mumbles, and you roll your eyes. “I need to take a shower anyways Peter, right now I just want cuddles,” you say, and lay on the puppy dog eyes. Those make him ridiculously weak to you. He just grins and jumps into bed next to you. You used the things he got you, but only after Peter himself made you feel exponentially better.

…Miles.

“Knock knock,” he says, walking into your room holding a stack of comic books. “Miles, why do you have so many comics?” you ask, turning to look at him. “Well, I know you have all the things you need to feel better with this whole… bleeding… thing?”

“This is true, I am prepared.”

“I know, but I figured the one thing you don’t have that you’d want is some good ‘ol Mile Morales loving. I also know that you kinda like the sound of my voice, even when you yell at me, so I decided I’d bring these comics and read them out loud. Oh, we can also play a little game where I describe the picture to you and you can tell me if it’s any good or not, I thought that might, y’know, take your mind off the pain,” he says, walking over to you and plopping down on the bed. “Miles I don’t think this bed is big enough for the two of us,” you say, but before you can even attempt to tell him to use your computer chair, he picks you up and moves you so you’re lying on top of him in a very comfortable position. The warmth radiating off of his body also makes you feel a little bit better. “Oh, okay, well this works perfectly,” you mumble nuzzling your face in his chest. You can feel the vibrations through his body as he laughs at you.

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you say, and he just smiles. “It’s okay, I know how unbearable I can be at times,” he jokes, and you grin. “Now, how about I start with… well uh… I have a lot so…” he trails off, holding up all the comics he brought so you can see them. “which one of these is your favorite…?”

…Gwen.

“Do you wanna bang on my drums? Banging on my drums helps me,” she says, leaning against your door frame. You roll your eyes and throw a pillow at her to which she catches in one hand and tosses back. “I think you should bang on my drums,” she says again, and you sigh. “Gwen, baby, even if I wanted to do that, I can’t move. My uterus is really trying to end itself right now, and I swear if it doesn’t succeed, I will end its life for it by ending my own.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the edgy one in this relationship. Are you coming for my brand right now?” she asks, walking over to you. You narrow your eyes at her, causing her to grin and sit at the foot of your bed. “Okay, well, how about this. The newest season of that true crime show came out today…”

“No fucking way, I thought it was supposed to come out Friday?”

“It was, but then they said, ‘fuck it, let’s release it early.’ And I got all of my homework done. So, I’m totally free to sit back, rub your stomach, and get my fill of murderers and how corrupt bad police officers are. What do you say?” she gives you a sincere smile, which causes one to break out across your face as well. “Come here, woman.”

…T’Challa.

“Can I just say I have fought many a warrior, but you are the most ferocious person I have ever met,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Is this because you were being annoying earlier and I let you know that you were being annoying earlier?” you snap again, and he points at you. “There it was. Terrifying.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him. The truth is he wasn’t doing anything annoying at all. You just really wanted him to stay with you for an hour or two and make you feel better with his presence, but he had some “Kingly duties” he had to attend to, so you’ve been alone. Dying.

“I have finished what I had to do today, you know,” he says, and you roll back over to face him again. “Oh really?” He chuckles at your immediate response and nods, walking into your shared room. “Yes, it seems I am completely free for the rest of the day. I have no idea what to do, honestly. I guess I’ll just-”

“Just stay here in bed with me? Yeah, damn right you will. Get over here yOuR hIgHnEsS,” you say, quite obviously laying the sarcasm on your highness to which he smiles at. The rest of the day was spent with the two of you just talking and you eventually falling asleep in his arms as he told you stories about when he was younger.

…Shuri.

“Even though you can be a bitch on your period I invented a new kind of heating pad for you because you are a spoiled brat, you know that right?” she says, walking over to you and dropping down the heating pad next to you. You give her a cheesy smile before thanking her and picking up this new heating pad. “The way it works is that it adjusts to your cramp pain. I’ve put a censor in it that can detect how severe the cramps are and then it administers heat accordingly. Also, you don’t have to worry about it catching on fire or anything, if it begins overheating it automatically turns off.”

“How did I end up with the best and brightest girlfriend of all time?” you ask, placing the pad on your stomach and letting your girlfriend’s technology take it from there. “Because she took pity on you,” she responds, and you laugh. She rolls her eyes, but a smile appears on her face none-the-less and she begins walking out of the room again. “Excuse me, but where do you think you are going?” you ask her and she turns to you, raising her eyebrows. “I am going to get us some ice cream so we can relax for a little bit. Is this a problem, princess?”

“Hey now, you’re the princess, I’m just your girlfriend. And no, carry on. Me and your dope ass heating pad will be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Mhm,” she says, and walks out of the room mumbling something about how you’re too spoiled, when in reality, you’re just the luckiest person in the world.

[zenosanalytic]

Solo Bouno

So I saw Solo on Tuesday and it’s a Good movie; not great, didn’t make a Huge impression on me, but Fun and Enjoyable and certainly something I’d happily watch once it makes it to cable, with a few quibbles.

The Good:

The acting was (mostly)good

The characters were well-written

The Dialogue was fun, funny, and unforced

While the Plot had Issues, it flowed well and felt natural, and there was nothing really eye-rolling in it.

All the technical aspects -Design, Cinematography, sound work, editing- were Proficient

Establishes the stakes quickly and effectively

Chewie is Great

Lando is Great

L3-37(yes, they REALLY named the robot l33t) is Great

The Quibbles:

It was a VERY Generic origin story

They didn’t set up themes they needed to, and didn’t really deliver a good payoff on the themes they did set up

Related to this, there are important character beats and payoffs that are never really setup(or “Planted”).

It could have done better with its female cast. I’ll get into this a bit more under spoilers

Alden Ehrenreich NEVER STOPS SMILING! I mean, that’s an exaggeration obvsl, but it was REALLY noticeable to me. IDK if this is an artifact of the editing, the directing, or Ehrenreich’s choices about the character(tbf, Han is BSing people A LOT in this film, and the smile was Ford’s BSing expression so...), and it wasn’t really grating or anything but, by the end, it did take me out of the story a bit.

Glover does Williams’ accent for Lando a few times and, while it isn’t bad, I liked his take on the character better without it.

The writing doesn’t really do enough to sell the second job and, while all the action which constitutes it is Fine, I kinda grumbled at how thin and absolutely not convincing that bit was.

Ok I think that’s it. On to my lengthier Spoiler-Quibbles:

Solo falls into the common prequel/origin story trap of trying to explain everything about a character. This is always a bad idea but, with this movie and this cast, it is a particularly Horrible idea. Han, Chewie, and Lando are the perfect sorts of characters for a series of matinee-type adventure movies -think Indiana Jones- and Solo, by shoving his whole backstory into one film and leaving him practically where we find him in Star Wars, really, really, really, makes that unlikely. An added negative of that is it takes what the OS establishes as years -maybe decades- old relationships between Han, Chewie, and Lando and turns them into a one-job acquaintance. That was a Very Bad Idea.

Han starts off speaking Wookie(albeit badly), and I feel like that choice leaves a lot of potential comedy&bonding on the table.

They really misuse Thandie Newton and her character, Val. She dies practically as soon as she’s introduced, and in a way that doesn’t feel honest to the character or situation. If they’d just put the bombs on a timer rather than a detonator this would have been less bad

This is compounded by how little mourning and upset Beckett, her lover and longtime partner, is allowed to displayed over her death(oh, and the deaths of his entire crew. Oh, and the loss of the future they’d planned together).

Half of Beckett’s initial crew disappears between scenes, and this is never explained. It really isn’t a big deal and I didn’t even realize it until thinking about the movie just now, but it seems like kind of a significant continuity error. Maybe they die, and I’m just not remembering it?

This actually could have worked, though, if the movie were a bit more willing to invest in characters other than Han. Later in the movie Beckett betrays Han over what to do with the Hyperfuel they’ve stolen. If he’d been shown as really angry and upset over these deaths, or if he’d been shown to be the sort willing to sacrifice lives for the score, then all of this stuff could have tied into a really neat ambiguous antihero narrative for him. Unfortunately, he’s consistently shown to be sentimental, friendly, even fatherly. He only gets visibly angry at Han once and only for an instant; isn’t angry at the Cloud Riders at all, even though they’re responsible for the deaths of Val and Rio; and only once comes even close to suggesting a score matters more than their lives, and only does that right after Val and Rio’s deaths. As a result, his betrayal feels detached from the character we’ve known up to that point. And what’s his motivation? The life he planned to live once his debts were cleared is gone and, by stealing the Hyperfuel for himself at the end, he’s guaranteed to live under a bounty for the rest of his life. It just doesn’t fit.

The same arc-confusion plagues Clarke’s Qi’ra. She also betrays Han in the end -maybe out of a desire to protect him, maybe out of pragmatism, but most likely from ambition- but the conflict her choice is a solution to is never established. It’s never established that she might be using Han and he’s unwilling to see it. They suggest Qi’ra is morally different from the person Han knew as a kid with(I think?) one passing line of dialogue, but the film doesn’t show anything that’d convince the audience she is, and shows lots of things(like her attempts to hide her brand from Han) which suggest she regrets her current life and wants out, not deeper in. Her making the choice she does thinking it was the best way to protect them both would make sense with the character on the screen(though, given that Han is Beckett’s only living accomplice by the end, it seems more like he’d catch the blame for it too, particularly once Beckett’s dead), but the movie presents it as a power-grab.

There’s a lot of stuff in here that’s either changes to, or taken from, the EU. References like this can be fun, but they’re always a gamble since you’re relying on information from outside the movie which the audience might not be aware of, and thus be confused and annoyed by. The Wookies have, apparently, been forced off their homeworld and enslaved en masse. Darth Maul’s not dead, but rather the head of the Syndicate Qi’ra (literally)belongs to(they even have him pull out the double-headed lightsaber and brandish it while he’s holoing her at the end so people will realize who he is; it’s ridiculous). The Cloud Riders who interrupted their first attempt to steal Hyperfuel turn out to be working with the Rebellion. The last one’s not a HUGE deal, but the others I thought were pretty odd choices.

They give Han a (very generic)rough backstory, but then present him as just a totally unambiguous, noncynical, non-gritty, good guy and softboy. Which, yes, he should have a heart of gold absolutely, but without ambiguity there’s no tension; no concern over what sort of choice he’s going to make. The whole “Rogue with a Heart of Gold” dynamic only works, narratively, when the character is both a Rogue, and kind-hearted to people hanging by a thread. This Solo isn’t really a Rogue; hell, he doesn’t even cheat at poker!

Miscellaneous Spoilers:

They kill off L3 ~halfway through the movie, and I’m ambivalent about it. She dies cheering on an enslaved rebellion she unwittingly started, which fits the character, but I think it would have been more fitting if she’d set it off intentionally, and if she’d died in a more active way; she is shooting at the slavers earlier in that sequence, but during the scene where she’s shot she’s cheering the rebels with her back turned to the danger and gets blind-sided. I mean, just having her get iced while shouting advice, or while looking back to Lando while still fighting, would have been much better. Also, while I didn’t think it was manpainy(Lando is justifiably and visibly upset about it, but that doesn’t become the focus of her death), they do then later strip her harddrive to merge it with the Falcon’s navigation computer, and that sort of direct utilizing of a female-coded character’s death and body to advance the (male-protags’)story didn’t sit right with me in the theater. It’s not handled really terribly or anything, in fact they do it in crisis as a sort of last-resort, but I still kinda |:T’d at it.

Lando has A LOT of capes, and it is Wonderful uwu Also he is an author and possible vlogger, which is Also Wonderful uwu uwu

Erin Kellyman as Enfys Nest has a small but important part, and she makes a big impression with it. We have the whole movie to get to know Han(on top of already liking him from the previous films) and I still found myself more interested in her story and her crew when they revealed their true nature at the end, than with New!Han(who wasn’t really even that bad; I know I’m ragging on Ehrenreich but he did alright with what had to have been an intimidating part). I guess this is also an excellent example of how important Mystique --NOT explaining things; leaving them vague-- can be to character-charisma.

That’s everything I can think of right now. Don’t be fooled by the length of that quibblelist though; it’s absolutely a fun movie and, if you like Star Wars and the Star Wars setting and, if the price of a ticket won’t hurt your wallet, it’s definitely worth seeing. A Fun, Funny, Entertaining, Summer Movie, and a good way to spend an afternoon.

P.S.: Plus, for the more politically minded and spiteful among us(read: Me), it’ll piss off legions of entitled manbabies online who want to get Kathleen Kennedy fired for having the temerity to be a woman while running Star Wars.

[xiamei-sami]

The Very Secret Diary of Darth Maul by: deadfake

Day 1: Woke up. Brushed teeth. Collected debts from Coruscant’s loan sharks. Flipped through copy of ‘How to rule the universe and inspire fear.’ Am bored because Master is not here. On good note, found mouse to be my friend.

Edit: Was hungry. Ate mouse. Found rock to be my friend.

Day 3:  Master returned. Said he had to broker a treaty with democrats from the Senate. Believe he was out cruising Jedi Knights. Summoned me to chambers to discuss plans. Something about taking over galaxy through political injustice. Fazed out, and didn’t get details. Was thinking about what to feed rock. Rock is starting to move and grow horns, so figure it must eat meat.

Edit:  Note to self, rock only eats raw human flesh. Do not attempt to give it cooked fish. It sulks if feed it cooked fish.

Day 4: Master quizzed me on plans for galaxy take-over. Failed quiz. Was made to run up ten foot slate wall 250 times. Legs now hurt. Still do not understand why Master insists I train naked. Have pointed out that will be fighting in clothes. Figure that something about sweating, naked muscles attenuated to a sculptured form, body rippling in the half-light as I stride towards my target must allow Master to judge my worthiness as a sith. Master is so rigid and disciplined, always making sacrifices to see I am perfectly trained. Am thinking of making shrine to praise Master. Edit: Master found out about plans to make shrine. Made me rub self in oil and fight blindfolded against droid. Note to self, Master’s punishments are getting weirder, try not to piss him off.

READ THE REST OF THIS HILARIOUS FIC AT DEADFAKE’S DEVIANTART

Disclaimer: I did not write this fic. I found it on Deviantart and thought it was hilarious and I want the author to get lots of credit and recognition for this masterpiece by sharing it with the tumblr Maul community. 

[goforcechokeyourself]

Battlefront 2 Master Post

Alright so this is my master post I was wanting to make where I talk about battlefront 2, I attended the swco2017 battlefront 2 panel and was shown the “exclusive” content video after the main stream was cut to all the online audiences so I’m going to talk about that and basically everything else we current know about battlefront  

So first off the game is set to release nov. 17th 2017, the game can be played earlier by 1. purchasing the Elite trooper edition (79.99) which will allow you a 3 day early access to the game (nov. 14th) and or 2. by being apart of of ea access which is exclusive to x box one and origin on pc which will let you start playing on (nov. 9th).   

NO SEASON PASS (what could this mean?)  

    Battlefront 2 (ea) will feature a single player campaign as well as up to 40 player multiplayer. It will spread across all eras including prequel, original, and sequel trilogies. Space battles have been confirmed as well as offline co-op for console editions. Classes are making a debut in this as one of the changes from their earlier installment in their battlefront games (2015) as well as a weapon modification system and abilities customization options.  

Prequel content 

So lets get right into the mix shall we? like most of you here I assume your biggest worry was the prequel content right? Clone wars was a huge part of my enjoyment for the other battlefront games from the 2000′s and my childhood in general; so the announcement of prequels being included in this immediately spiked my interest!    

(picture below is a scene from the trailer where it shows maul and yoda about to face off)

Even after seeing this though (which is the only prequel content shown in the trailer :’/ ) I was skeptical about the appearance of the clones, ideas worked around in my head about nasty ol’ EA making a hero only mode which feature prequel characters and while that would still be a step up from not having them in the game at all it really pissed me off because I want the clones dammit and those stupid little battle droids too. So after the stream cut off at swco2017 EA’s panel for battlefront 2 they told us to turn off our phones and that they would be showing us something exclusive to us. Basically a video of the dev team and their journey making the game riddled with secrets and bits of concept art and more information about the game. They also showed a slide show before this with bits and pieces of art for the games and both of those mixed with information I’ve gathered on my own will be presented now in this post. 

So back to the clones, are they making it into the game? YES THEY WILL! 

(picture above is a piece of concept art featuring clones some sporting jetbacks fighting a battle on the water planet of Kamino) 

Yes the clones will be apart of this game thank the maker! I was a little upset that no actually footage of them is shown or any actually close up art or models for them was shown but considering the games launch is still pretty far off I understand and will be patient.   

(picture below features a battle droid from the separatists side) 

However we did get a look at a game model for a battle droid! Which I am pleased to say looks very nice indeed. 

Okay so what about planets? Well Kamino is the only one we have a visual for sadly, however in the description for the “elite” version of the game available for pre order on amazon.com it is revealed that Theed will be playable as well (will we see the gungans???). 

Phase 1 clones are the only ones shown via art so no information about if we will see phase 2 clones is available right now that I know of unfortunately. But I for one am very excited at the prospect of clones in my battlefront game once again after 12 years. 

Original and Sequel trilogy content 

Lets take a look at some of the other eras, both the original and the sequel trilogy will have maps and troopers and verticals available for play in both multiplayer and single player (it was not discussed if any prequel content would make it into the single player but we will get into that later)  

(picture above shows kylo ren leading a group of first order troopers into battle on star killer base) 

TFA & TLJ content will be available in the game little is talked about what TLJ content will be shown in game beside the pre order bonus of bonus outfits for rey and kylo and some unique abilities and skins for the falcon and a TFO fighter? 

Maybe we will see Maz’s castle as a playable map? who knows. 

As far as the original trilogy content goes for multiplayer. We have Hoth confirmed, Yavin 4, Endor, Tatooine, and the main character (iden) of the single players home world Vardos 

(pictured about the new planet Vardos) 

Also something to be excited about even tho we are in fact seeing some reappearing planets from the earlier installment (2015) is that there are new details about the planets yet unexplored by DICE. Such as being able to ride the taun tauns! this might not sound like much but I loved riding them in the old 2005 installment of battlefront so this pleases me very much. 

(pictured rebel soldier riding tauntaun into a snow trooper)  

The scout trooper and tie pilot will be available as skins (or classes?)  I assume as both of them are shown in the trailer. 

(pictured above Iden and the inferno sqaud on endor in tie fighter like apparel) 

Okay so we got the OT, PT, & ST all taken care of as far as content so what else can we expect from this game that is new? 

Whats new?

Well new ground vehicles have been confirmed yet again via amazon description   

So we have tanks, what can be expected from this some of those glorious tanks from Battlefront 2 (2005) maybe? Only the future can tell.

We have an assortment of new weapons like the A280-CFE blaster rifle (used by mr cassian andor in rogue one) 

We have the return of the class system tho not as large as the 2005′s roster. Battlefront 2 (ea) will have 4 different classes with different play styles featured in their game specialist, heavy, officer, and assault. From my assumption assault will be the regular trooper type (battle droids, clone trooper, storm trooper etc.) and specialist will be things like scout troopers, bothans, assassin droids. Heavy troopers will consist of wookiees, droidekas, tfa heavy trooper and last but not least the officer class seems pretty self explanatory. 

(pictured from left to right specialist, heavy, officer, assault)  

Abilities and Customization 

One of the other new things that will be in this new installment is abilities. This will be the answer to the power up icons found as pick ups in the last game. 

The only ability that I have heard about is reys mind trick and kylo’s “force freeze” so we will have to wait and hear more about them.

Heroes   

As far as heroes go we will definitely be seeing Rey, Kylo, Darth Maul, Yoda, and Han Solo as been confirmed as well.  

(pictured below is rey running through a jungle or forest planet shown in the trailer)

Single Player Campaign 

There will be a single player campaign featured in battlefront 2 (ea). The focus of this campaign will be about a woman named Iden who is the leader of Inferno sqaud (yes that same one). The campaign will span 30 years connecting ROTJ to TFA and will center around Idens resolve to get revenge on the rebel alliance and it’s heroes for killing her emperor an for the most part destroying her empire “this is where the real war begins”. In the trailer shows of starkiller base are shown and her and the inferno squad dispatching rebels and numerous space battles both with rebels of the OT and ST. Also a very interesting scene of her holding luke skywalker hostage? with a DH-17. So pretty exciting right? it has been announced that this story will be CANON. There is also going to be a tie in novel for the game named Battlefront 2 Inferno squad and that comes out in July. The novel will take place 4 years before the game and give some insight into Iden’s background and life pre the events of ROTJ.

Now lets get into the content that was shown after the cameras went off. 

A lot of concept art was shown for various locations via computer screens people were working on as well as actual pieces shown to us one that I would like to talk about was a scene of the rebel troopers from ROTJ in which the infamous bearded trooper is seen. I thought this was interesting because the picture seems largely focus around the bearded trooper and as it’s been made aware Dave Filoni is currently working to try to make the fan theory that, that trooper is in fact captain rex from star wars rebels. So this brings up the question will rex be playable in this game? 

another piece of interesting concept art was a sea cave map? it’s hard to tell what planet this was on if I had to guess I would say naboo? but it could very well be a new planet. this piece of art was very beautiful though so hopefully it gets turned into a good map. 

There was lots of shots of places and models very obscured because you were looking at them not directly so it’s hard to say exactly what most of them are there very well could be a video of this someone snuck so you’re welcome to look for it to try and pick through it but as for me the only 2 real things that stuck out for me I just mentioned above. I would want to bore you all with my speculations on what obscure images in concept art could mean that I barely remember so I shall not. 

To round it all up 

I am pretty excited for this game, I was not so much pleased with the last installment in 2015. I was a stalwart defender of it during the announcement stage and even during beta stage but now that it’s all said and done and all the content has been released and it’s been left to rot on the servers I find myself forever bothered by why it was even made. If you want my personal opinion I believe DICE used the game as somewhat of a tech demo not only for this game but for Battlefield 1 which irritates me because I had so much passion for it when it was coming out and the return of battlefront even in the face of adversity. At the swco2017 panel tho I saw the passion of the devs when they talked about this game and I admit even in my doubt I still hold for this game to save myself from being dissapointed I believe this game will at least right most of the wrongs that were committed in the first game. 

I hope everyone who is excited for battlefront 2 or just wanted information enjoys my post about it, May the force be with you all.

[thornfield13713]

In Which Danny May (Not) Have Made a Mistake

Ok, this is my first shot at writing this ‘verse properly, and hopefully I’ve got everyone right. Edited and beautifully illustrated by the wonderful @zapiarty.

This second trip through time was looking to be almost as hellishly depressing and nightmarish as the last one had been, and nearly getting killed by all the ghosts your psychotic future self had managed to piss off was not an easy one to beat. The first sign of something being really, seriously wrong with this whole thing involved the horrifying realisation that he blended in. Seriously, he was going to have to reconsider the whole costume design after this. The second sign was a flyer on a notice-board not far from where he’d come out, advertising a ghost portal opening in room 101 of the science building, which would’ve been just about perfect if it hadn’t been a) old and b) completely inaccurate. Room 101 of the science building was cordoned off with black-and-yellow tape and looked like a bomb had hit it, and when he asked someone for the date, it was two weeks after the day on the flyer.

“So much for ‘the ghost of time!’” Danny hissed, crumpling up the flyer just for something to do, “Couldn’t even get the right day for it!” He made to storm off down the corridor, and maybe give Clockwork a piece of his mind, when he walked right into a very solid someone. A very solid someone in an orange jumpsuit. It might be the eighties, but there were only so many people who’d wear that voluntarily and without any sign of embarrassment.

“What?” Jack Fenton said, glaring at him, “Come to gawk at how bad we screwed up?”

Danny swallowed, and stared. It was disconcerting, being snapped at by his dad – like being mauled by a big friendly dog – and also, Jack looked awful. Three-days-without-sleep awful, weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders awful. It wasn’t something Danny had ever seen in him before.

“Uh…” Danny started, “Sorry? I just got here, but I, uh, I saw this flyer, and since I’m into ghosts too, I figured-” Jack made a grab for the flyer, ignoring Danny’s protests, and sighed dramatically when he looked at it. “Yes,” he said gloomily, “Well, you can just clear off. It flopped. Spectacularly. Guess I ought to just pack the whole ghost-hunting thing in and go back to…I don’t know, whatever it is I’m not going to screw up.” “What- No!” Danny protested, because…honestly, Jack Fenton without his ghost-mania ceased to be Jack Fenton. “No! I mean…ok, you destroyed the lab, but…nothing that bad happened, right? Everyone has a few failures before they make it big, don’t they?” It was the wrong thing to say. Jack’s whole face fell, and the rest of him just seemed to slump at Danny’s words. “My best friend was in there with me,” he said, “He’s in hospital now. If I’d just waited a moment to let Maddie check the damn calculations…” And, ok, Danny knew Jack hadn’t always moderated his language for reasons of Not Around the Children, but it still sounded weird to hear him swear, even that mildly. And anyway, Danny was pretty sure that saying not to worry about it because said best friend turned out to be an asshole anyway was going to get him thrown across the room, and being Jack’s son from the future was not going to help him there at all.

“Yeah, but…” Danny started, then trailed off, because he had absolutely no idea where else to take that line. “Ok, but clearly your friend was interested too? I mean, you were doing this experiment together, right?” “The three of us were,” Jack agreed, “Me, Maddie and…” he heaved a sigh, “Vlad. Vlad Masters – he’s my roommate too. Or he was. Odds are he’ll be in hospital for the rest of the year, so they’re talking about moving his stuff out and giving someone else his bed. I’ll probably never talk to him again!” The best thing that could be said for the situation was that Danny did not have to pretend to be absolutely mortified about this near-stranger spouting off his personal life to all and sundry inside about ten minutes of meeting. Not that Jack would’ve noticed if he hadn’t looked properly awkward, but it was genuinely uncomfortable to listen to. Danny would bet anything that Vlad wouldn’t have given Jack a second thought if the accident had gone the other way.

“Well…uh…nothing to say you can’t visit, right?” he said, for lack of anything else to say. “I mean, he’s in hospital, he’s not dead…” Great choice of words there, ghost-boy. “If he’s really your friend he’ll be willing to talk,” Danny extemporised desperately, “Anyway, I gotta run, so- Uh- See you!”

He bolted for it, so fast he thought he might have used a bit of ghost power to do it. When he caught up with Clockwork, he was going to- Danny was in the air above Amity Park, looking down on Fenton Works. “Wh- Wha- WHAT?” he spluttered “You didn’t even put me back in the right time! What sort of guardian of time are you if you can’t even get me to the right freaking day!” He looked again at the building where, even now, Sam and Tucker’s lives were in the balance, and stopped dead. No quarantine tent. Nothing even close to resembling a quarantine tent. “But…I didn’t even change anything,” he said, more to himself than Clockwork, if the great omnipotent asshat was still listening. “How’d- Did something happen while I was away?” His stomach lurched at the thought. Sam and Tucker, they weren’t- they hadn’t died, had they? Ecto-acne wasn’t fatal that quickly, was it? It couldn’t be – Vlad had lived how many years with it, again? – but Danny couldn’t shake the thought. The sooner he got back and saw what was going on with his own eyes, the better.

He swooped down, shifting into his human form before his feet even hit the ground, and raced for the door. If his parents had found a cure, that was one thing, though how they could’ve done that in the time it took to get to Clockwork’s castle and get majorly ripped off was a mystery to Danny. If they hadn’t, though…something about all of this felt wrong, it was too quick, too neat, too simple. And, in Danny’s experience, the first time it looked as though things were going well was usually the moment at which everything went really, spectacularly wrong in some way that would probably take three times as much effort to fix. Jazz was sprawled out on the sofa when he came in, her legs over the end and her nose in a book on parapsychology. Granted, she was doing so in a sweater he’d never seen before, but the sight in front of him was so normal it stopped Danny dead in his tracks.

Jazz sighed, and looked at him over the top of her book, “It’s all right,” she said, “He’s asleep. Mom said he seemed stable when she looked in on him earlier.” She looked worried, to Danny, and that was concerning enough on its own. “Uh…right,” Danny said, “I’ll just…um…you seen Sam and Tucker?” Jazz gave him another of her ‘trying to puzzle out Danny’s adolescent psychology’ looks, and turned a page. “Probably at the Nasty Burger or something – you should talk to them. It’ll be good for you.” “You do remember what happened last time you said that,” Danny muttered, but he was glad to have the excuse to be out of the house. Sam and Tucker would know what was going on, and besides, he needed to see them, just to see they were still there and not infected with the awful, festering sores of the ecto-acne. The thought of being stuck like that for years was almost enough to make him feel sorry for Vlad, and seeing it on Sam and Tucker had been nothing short of nightmarish.

They were at the Nasty Burger when he got there, and when he dropped into the booth next to Tuck, both of them looked surprised…and concerned, which should, in hindsight, have been yet another clue that Danny had done more to the timeline than one shot conversation should really have been able to achieve. “Is your dad going to be ok?” Sam asked, sharing a glance with Tucker. Danny swallowed. “Uh…last I checked,” he said lamely, “Look, guys…this is going to sound pretty freaky, but have you…oh I dunno…had something explode in your face recently?” Tucker dropped his burger. Sam stared. “…guessing that’s a ‘no’.” Danny scratched at the back of his head, “I…uh…I made a deal with Clockwork. But he completely screwed me over! I don’t know why you’re not still all…” he gestured in the vague direction of his face. “I mean, I didn’t even prevent the stupid accident! I was there for…what, ten minutes? Twenty, tops.” They were giving him the sort of looks now that suggested that he’d gone even further into making no sense than was already sort-of-usual. “I guess Clockwork really did help, then,” Danny muttered. Tucker raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, and that’s all very interesting, but who the heck is Clockwork?” Danny froze. No. No, it couldn’t mean…the explosion was supposed to have happened weeks ago, this didn’t mean…what he was hoping it wasn’t. “You- you guys should know who that is,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry. “He’s helped us out before – my whole ‘evil future self’ thing with the CAT tests?” Nothing but blank looks from Sam and Tucker, and this was really, really starting to get to Danny now. Still…they had to know. “Clockwork is…or says he is…the Guardian of Time. How that squares with him being a ghost, I don’t know, but he can send people back in time. You…” Danny scrubbed a hand over his face, “Plasmius showed up at the Nasty Burger, infected the pair of you with ecto-acne so that I’d have no choice but to find a cure for him, so I tried to go back and avert the accident that led to him becoming a half-ghost in the first place. Clockwork sent me to the wrong time – by about two weeks. I was there for ten freaking minutes, and now…you’re cured. Somehow. But if Clockwork could’ve done that this whole time, why bother sending me back in time at all? And – you don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?” Tucker and Sam shook their heads, both looking absolutely boggled. Tucker was the one who recovered his voice first, though.

“Wait- Plasmius did that to us? Seriously? I mean, he’s not our biggest fan, but…Plasmius?” It was Danny’s turn to stare now. “Uh…yeah? Why’s that so surprising, the guy’s a complete frootloop.”

Sam and Tucker shared another of those odd glances, before Sam spoke. “Uh…Danny? Plasmius is…kind of a local hero. Well, kind of. Everyone thought he was evil or an urban legend for years, the ghost who fought his own kind and always showed up wherever your mom and dad happened to be. Then you had the accident, and met him at…” “At my parents’ twenty-year college reunion?” Danny asked, certainty dropping into the pit of his stomach like a stone. “Yeah, I remember meeting the guy there too. Vlad Masters – you know him, right?” “Uh…chances of us knowing two guys named Vlad?” Tucker pointed out, “Pretty low, I’m guessing. And the only Vlad we know is…” he seemed to stifle a snicker, before remembering. “Uh, don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy and all, but I can’t think of anyone less likely to be Plasmius. He gets panic attacks just being near ghosts.”

Sam elbowed Tucker, but didn’t contradict him. “He’s been attacked by what must be every ghost in town,” she said, which sounded more like agreement than anything. Danny imagined, for a moment, Plasmius’s response to sharing a name with the person Sam and Tucker were describing, and had a sudden, startling mental image of Vlad blowing his castle up again just out of sheer vexation.

“But – look, what I’m getting at is…before that happened, everyone but you and Vlad was fine,” he said, “What’s going on?” “No idea,” Tucker said, looking worried for the first time, “A couple days back he was fine, now he’s sick. And I mean…really sick. You said this sort of thing happened a lot more when you were a kid, but never this badly…”

Danny felt sick. He said: “My dad doesn’t have health problems. Or…he didn’t.” The thought would, in the old timeline, have been absurd. Jack Fenton was built like a bear, and could probably still lift both Jazz and Danny over his head the way he had when they were kids, if they hadn’t both started protesting whenever he tried it the moment they hit double digits. He’d infuriated everyone by hardly coming down with so much as a cold in fourteen years. One short conversation couldn’t have done this, could it?

Or…so far, the changes seemed sort of small. Fenton Works was still in the same place, Jazz and Sam and Tucker were all the same…everything except the Plasmius thing, and Danny just bet this was some sort of complicated brainwashing scheme – it sounded just the frootloop’s style, somehow. And if Jack was sick and Plasmius was a local hero, how much easier would it be to swoop in and sweep Maddie off her feet when Jack suffered a tragic ‘natural’ death from whatever it was he had?

“He does here,” Tucker said, probably trying for ‘apologetic’ but ending up somewhere around ‘seriously freaked out’. “Uh, obviously. Look, it’s not that we think you’re lying, but all this is just kinda…” “Freaky?” Sam supplied. “Unbelievable? Makes no freaking sense?” “Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “Pretty much. “It’s not that we think you’re lying,” Sam added when Danny glared at her, “Just…you said you were only there for a couple minutes, didn’t you? How much difference could that make?”

“Ok? And? What d’you think is more likely?” Danny demanded. Sam shrugged, “Say this Clockwork guy exists, and he did something to your head? Made you remember something that didn’t happen, or brainwashed you into forgetting about some things? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened, right?” “I’m brainwashed?” Danny started heatedly. Tucker snorted, “Think about it,” he said, “If I wanted to be the one to take out Phantom and Plasmius, but couldn’t do it outright because…well, let’s face it, you’re pretty badass…turning you against each other would be the perfect way to do it. Two birds, one stone.”

Danny scowled at the pair of them. “Fine!” he snapped, “Tell you what, then? We’ll take the Spectre Speeder. I’ll show you Clockwork – I want a word with him right now anyway.” “Great,” Sam said, “Maybe then we can get this sorted out.” Danny knew they were still thinking it, which irritated him even more, and he didn’t bother to slow his steps to let Sam and Tucker keep up as they headed back towards Fenton Works. The world had been re-written, and nothing made sense – he was going to find out if it was possible to strangle Clockwork, if it was the last thing he ever did. When they entered the house, his mom was there. She looked exhausted – the sort of exhausted she only usually got when she’d been working on something long enough to forget to sleep or eat or do anything except focus on the job in front of her – but she looked up as they came in.

“You’re just in time,” she said, “Danny, could you take up that tray over there? With the soup and the ectoplasmic purifier tonic? It’s the only painkiller we’ve found that works.” “What- Uh- Sure,” Danny said, looking desperately over at Sam and Tucker, neither of whom seemed any more comfortable than he was. “This tray here?” “Do you see another tray, Danny?” Maddie asked, and ran her fingers through her hair, wincing. “I need more coffee, then it’s back to the lab.” Tucker’s eyebrows looked to be in danger of disappearing into his hairline, but he didn’t say anything as Danny grabbed the tray and headed upstairs, sick anger and frustration churning in his stomach. When he found out what caused this – it hadn’t been him, it couldn’t have been him – he’d- Well, he didn’t know what he’d do, but it would probably involve a Fenton thermos and the nastiest pit he could drop it in.

Now he was actually seeing it, the house was full of small, jarring differences – the chairs were different, there was a  ridiculously long, badly-knitted striped scarf thrown over the end of the stair-rail, and he kept spotting odd flashes of green and gold about the place that just set his teeth on edge for some reason – but his parents’ room was still in roughly the same place. And, one thing to be said for ghost powers, they made it easier to open a door when you had both hands occupied. He opened the door and stepped inside, and stopped dead at the sight that met his eyes.

Vlad Masters – Vlad Masters – was lying there, in the bed, covered in open, weeping sores and petting a cat, of all things. A pretty, fluffy little white cat that was purring like an engine and looked like it had been borrowed from a Bond villain, admittedly, but still. Danny’s eyes flicked over the room as he set the tray down on the bedside table, trying to absorb anything that wasn’t Vlad Masters in green-and-gold pyjamas with the Packers logo on the chest, sitting up in Danny’s parents’ bed as if he belonged there. The bed was larger than in his own world, Danny noticed distantly, and even if the small collection of Packers memorabilia on the chest-of-drawers would be dwarfed by the one in Vlad’s castle in his own timeline, it was pretty impressively geeky all the same.

And then, all at once, Vlad looked up at him, and smiled in a way that, on anyone else, Danny might have called sheepish. His hair was coming out of its ponytail, and even putting aside the pyjamas, Danny was pretty certain this was the most sloppily put-together he’d ever seen Vlad in his life. Danny was expecting gloating, or monologuing, or even an attempt to convince him to come to the dark side yet again. He was not remotely prepared for what was really said. “Don’t tell your mother I let Brie in here – I know Maddie hates getting cat hair all over the sheets.” Under other circumstances, Danny would’ve been fully prepared to shout and storm and demand to know just what Vlad had done. Unfortunately, the message didn’t appear to be reaching his brain, and the words wouldn’t come when he opened his mouth. Vlad’s smile slid off his face, but instead of gloating, he seemed oddly deflated. “It’s better than it could be, at least,” he said, “It’s when the sores start to go down that you get the worst side-effects, if this is really serious.” It was difficult to imagine anything more gruesome than open sores and glowing, ectoplasm-filled pustules, but he couldn’t think of any particular reason for Vlad to lie about that. The effects he was experiencing right now were humiliating enough without adding anything more. Danny opened his mouth, then closed it again – Vlad didn’t seem to know Danny wasn’t affected by…whatever he’d done…and if he did figure it out, Danny wasn’t fool enough to think Vlad couldn’t make getting to the portal a heck of a lot more difficult for them. “You don’t need to hover, you know,” Vlad said testily. “I don’t expect I’m in any real danger – being half-ghost has its advantages.”

Danny started at that, and Vlad rolled his eyes, which did not do anything at all for his general appearance of having stepped out of one of the grosser bits of The Exorcist. “No-one could’ve overheard that. Really, Daniel, and you accuse me of being paranoid?”

“I- I didn’t say you were,” Danny said, backing away towards the door, his mind curiously blank in the way it usually only got when faced with a particularly fiendish and difficult test. The moment he thought about what was happening, he knew, he wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretence that all of this was somehow normal for another minute. “Do you really think you needed to?” Vlad asked, because…honestly, Danny wasn’t sure there was any version of Vlad Masters anywhere who wasn’t completely insufferable. It was almost as major a part of his personality as being smug, scheming and obsessed with Maddie Fenton.

“Uh- Yeah- Well…I…uh…I gotta go. Ghost attack downtown, think Skulker’s behind it, so I’ll just…go. Now. Bye!” It was, he knew, the worst possible excuse, but if Vlad was admitting to being half-ghost, logically he probably still knew about Danny, which meant this world wasn’t that different. Unless the brainwashing had been really thorough, but Danny doubted that somehow – the sign outside still read ‘Fenton Works’, even, so Vlad couldn’t have been on this scheme for long. Either way, the sooner Danny got away, the sooner they could get to the Ghost Zone and get Clockwork to fix his mess. The moment they were in the underground hangar where his parents kept the Spectre Speeder and the RV when no-one was using them, Danny rounded on his friends. “Vlad Masters! Vlad freaking Masters is my dad here? And neither of you thought it was worth mentioning!” Tucker gaped at him, Sam was spluttering, looking rather as if she’d just been hit across the face with a wet fish. “Masters?” she demanded, “That guy you said was Plasmius in whatever crazy reality you remember? You think your dad is-”

“I know he is! I recognised him!” Danny glared at her, “And what do you mean my crazy reality?” “I mean, Danny, that none of what you’ve been saying makes sense!” Sam snapped back at him. “I mean…your dad is Plasmius, only he’s not your dad, and oh, by the way, you hate him? What do you even think this Masters guy is?”

The explanation of just how much bad news Vlad was lasted them through half the ghost zone, and would probably have gone better if Danny hadn’t seen the incredulous looks on Sam and Tucker’s faces and gotten defensive about it. “-the point is- the point is, Vlad Masters is…” he flapped a hand to emphasise this, “A completely crazy billionaire half-ghost with a fixation on- on killing my dad and marrying my mom! Not…” his mind dragged him back to the sight of a scruffy, messy-haired Vlad with a cat on his lap. “…whatever you think he is,” he finished lamely. “And – how come you two didn’t recognise the name earlier? I’m pretty sure I said Plasmius was Vlad Masters back there.”

And that was a terrifying thought all on its own – was he even Danny Fenton anymore? Or…no, because this was a hoax, a trick. Vlad had finally mastered brainwashing, or he’d made a deal with that Desiree chick, or- or- or something, because there was no way ten minutes of wandering around lost and trying not to get sucked into awkward conversation with his dad – his real dad – could do this much. Sam and Tucker shared another look.

“Because that isn’t his name,” Sam said. “What?”

Tucker shrugged “He’s been Vlad Fenton for as long as I’ve known him,” he said. “Vlad Fenton,” Danny repeated, “Right, sure. Because that makes what kind of sense?” If it was Desiree, that might be the sting in the tail of the wish, if Vlad got the family he claimed to want, but got the rest of Jack Fenton’s life as well. Danny wondered for one mad moment whether that meant Jack was at the castle in Wisconsin, then shook himself. When he found Clockwork, it wouldn’t matter anymore what had happened here. “He changed it when they got married, I think,” Sam said. “Uh…if they got married, I mean. I’m not actually sure that’s legal…”

“Wait a minute,” Tucker interrupted, before Danny could snap that it probably should be illegal. “He wants to kill your dad? Your dad being…” Danny stared at him in horror. “Jack Fenton! Who else?”

Both Sam and Tucker looked, if anything, even more completely dumbfounded than before, which did nothing for Danny’s nerves. “Vlad tried to kill him at the college reunion thing earlier this year – it was happening over at his place in Wisconsin, the castle? Uh…guess you two don’t know about that either…I didn’t know it was him at first, because he kept going after Dad as Plasmius-” “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tucker held up his hands in front of him. “Skulker attacked you in Wisconsin – and…castle? You mean that weird hotel you were staying in?” “…a hotel,” Danny repeated, “Right. Because ‘castle full of Packers junk’ is a viable hotel theme.”

Sam almost laughed. “That I can believe your dad would do,” she said. “He’s not my-” Danny started, “I didn’t change that much. This is just some new crazy evil scheme of Plasmius’s, I’d bet you anything.”

Neither Sam nor Tucker said anything, but Danny could see they weren’t convinced. Clockwork’s castle was pretty deep in the Ghost Zone, but he’d found the way there once already, he could do it again, even if the Spectre Speeder made things more difficult, being bound by laws that the ordinary travel of ghosts was not. Granted, crashing said Spectre Speeder through Clockwork’s castle wall might not have been the best way to ask for his help, but in Danny’s defence, steering was tricky in a place where time had no meaning, meaning that the crash you were trying to avoid had technically already happened. Clockwork was waiting for them. Because of course he was. Seeing the future was sort of his gig. “What the heck did you do?” Danny demanded, springing out of the Spectre Speeder and trying, without much success, to grab Clockwork by the collar of his robes. Of course, that wasn’t exactly the wisest course when dealing with the Ghost of Time, but by the second time he’d been unceremoniously dumped back beside the Speeder, Danny managed to get his temper under control.

“I did not do anything,” Clockwork said, “You did.” Danny spluttered. “This- This wasn’t me!” Clockwork raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you remember what you said?” he asked. He sighed at the sight of the blank look on Danny’s face. “Of course not. Leaping in without thinking seems to be a common pattern.” “I leapt in without thinking?” Danny demanded, indignant, “You were the one who sent me to the wrong freaking day!”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow. “I sent you to the only place where the time-stream could shift without erasing you from existence entirely,” he said. “What you did there is another matter.” “So, wait,” Tucker leapt in. “So…it really happened? This really is a whole new timeline – what happened to our Danny?” Clockwork turned his eerie gaze on Tucker. “The change in the time-stream led to his being…overwritten…when this Danny returned to your time. The time-stream will correct the mistake soon enough.” “Glad that doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Danny muttered, “Can I at least see the accident again?”

He’d been able to jump through one of those portals during the last time-travel fiasco – he could do it again. Clockwork didn’t appear to remember that, or maybe he was just so entirely confident in his own power that he didn’t think there was any risk of it happening this time. Danny watched the three of them setting up, saw Jack grab- grab a can of soda instead of the ecto-purifier. “That’s it!” Danny gasped, “THAT’S IT!” he looked over at Clockwork. “You- You can put things back, can’t you? To how they were before I meddled? I mean…that was interfering with the time-stream, and your whole job involves preventing…people…from…interfering with the time-stream.” Danny trailed off at the look on Clockwork’s face, but gathered himself and pressed on regardless. “I can cure Sam and Tucker without any need for tampering with the-” “Further tampering,” Clockwork corrected him.

Danny stopped dead. “Uh…what?” “The timeline has already been tampered with,” Clockwork said simply. “So? Can’t you put it back?” Clockwork raised a repressive eyebrow. “You have altered the timeline once already, and somehow managed to avoid entirely destroying it. Further tampering – even an attempt to restore your original timeline – might entirely destabilise it, and warp history beyond recognition.” “THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE WHEN I HAVEN’T SCREWED WITH THE TIME-STREAM?” Danny very nearly shrieked, throwing out both hands as if to try and demonstrate the enormity of the problem in front of him. “B-but- Vlad! And-” “The fate of one family is not an irreparable change,” Clockwork said dispassionately. “I expect you will start to remember, given time.”

“He will?” Tucker asked, looking hopeful for the first time. “I don’t want to remember!” Danny yelled. “Is there anything – anything at all-” Clockwork raised a hand. “All things in time,” he said. “One day, I will offer you the choice, and you will be free to make it. But first…go, and see the world your actions have created. Time out.”

And then, all at once, they were floating in the Ghost Zone, just beyond Clockwork’s castle. Or rather, where Clockwork’s castle ought to have been, for there was no sign of it. Sam put a hand to the side of her head. “Did that just happen?” “I think so,” Danny said moodily. Tucker said nothing. He was curled in the co-pilot’s seat, staring at nothing, and looking utterly shell-shocked. Danny couldn’t blame him – going catatonic was looking pretty appealing right now. Sam sighed. “Ugh. Ok, because this apparently isn’t crazy, run everything by me again. Without the shouting, this time.”

“Run- I have to go back there and pretend to be that- that frootloop’s son, just like he’s been trying to convince me to pretty much since the moment we met, and you’re asking me to-” Danny shook his head, “I mean- What do I even call him? I can’t think of him as ‘Dad’, I just…no. No.”

“Vati. You call him Vati.” Tucker muttered absently, completely missing the point. “It’s German,” Sam put in helpfully, “Or I think it is. And why’d you keep calling him a ‘frootloop’?” Danny raked a hand through his hair. “Because that’s what he is! I just…ok, I changed the timeline, but Clockwork’s changed the timeline around my family before, so why’s he acting like this is a big deal now- Oh.” Now it all made sense. Horrible sense, admittedly, but still…sense. “It’s another plan,” he muttered. “It has to be. That’s why the sign still says Fenton Works. That’s why he’s here and not in Wisconsin-”

“He must’ve got to you and Tuck too – I bet you anything Desiree was involved with this – so all I have to do is find her and undo the wish! It’s just the sort of thing she’d like, so Vlad gets everything he said he wanted, but loses the wealth and fame and castle full of football memorabilia…” “Wouldn’t Vlad remember being the guy you were ranting about earlier, though?” Sam protested, “I remembered, when I made my wish – you know, the one that stripped you of your powers? Did- uh- did that still happen to you?” “Oh, it happened.” Danny shook his head. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense!” “In what world,” Tucker demanded, jolted out of his apparent catatonia, “Does that make sense?”

Danny was too caught up in the idea to listen. He could see the possibility of returning to normal, sane life – or as sane as his life ever got – just out of reach and full of the promise of not having to deal with Vlad freaking Masters. Well, not as anything but an enemy – maybe a nemesis – anyway, and that was just fine with Danny. “Ok, so he remembers the old timeline – pity it didn’t do anything for his ecto-acne problem…” Sam and Tucker were actually starting to look quite disturbed when Danny looked around. “What? This is the guy who infected you with a deadly disease a couple hours ago!” Tucker shifted uneasily, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…the thing is,” he said awkwardly, “He kinda didn’t. Not here. Not to us. Maybe some version of him did, but…” he shrugged, and went back to staring out at the Ghost Zone as Sam steered them back towards the portal.

The lab, when they got back, was deserted, and they were able to sneak the Spectre Speeder back through to the hangar without any trouble. When they came back into the lab, though, Maddie was there. She looked, if anything, even worse – jittery on edge, with deep circles under her eyes, and Danny could see that the only reason that her hands weren’t shaking as she scribbled down calculations was that Maddie Fenton’s body was in the grip of Maddie Fenton’s mind. “What- Oh, it’s you,” Maddie raised her goggles to rub her eyes. “What are you doing down here?” Danny was just groping for a suitable excuse when Sam spoke up. “We just wanted to help,” she said, elbowing Danny hard in the side and giving him a significant look, though Danny couldn’t for one second think why. Maddie sighed. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not sure there’s much you can do. I don’t know,” she admitted miserably, “That there’s anything I can do, except wait it out, and if this is as bad as it seems…” she cast a worried look at a monitor, and set her jaw stubbornly. Sam elbowed him again. Danny glared at her. She glared back, and then, apparently realising Danny had no clue what she was hinting at, said, “Uh…these ectoplasmic impurities? Do they look anything like the effects of…uh…mixing ectoplasm and diet cola?” Maddie frowned, making as if to wave them off as she reached again for her notes. “Don’t be silly, why would-” she glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of her, went white, “Oh- My-” She sprang to her feet, steadying herself on the counter, and oblivious to anything but the problem in front of her. While her back was turned, though, Sam elbowed him again. “What was that all about?” she hissed. Danny stared. “What was what about?” he hissed back, “You were the one who kept nudging me!” “You knew what the cure was,” Sam whispered furiously, “And you didn’t tell your mom? This is Vlad’s life in the balance!” Danny froze. He hadn’t considered that – Vlad hadn’t seemed concerned for his life in either world, and even if he had been…well, there had been times he’d wanted nothing better than to be rid of Plasmius. He was quite keen on the idea even now, even, except that it might mean Desiree was out of town before he could put things back. Sam seemed to see some of that in his face, and she recoiled from him. “Come on, Tucker,” she said in a low voice, “We’re done here.”

Danny couldn’t help but feel, abruptly, very alone as the two of them left the lab to go upstairs. A whole world he didn’t know, and he’d have to deal with it alone. He didn’t even know how any of this had happened, let alone how to put things back. “And – done!” Maddie said, looking exhausted and delighted all at once, “You take the flask, Danny – my hands aren’t steady enough.” For one wild moment, Danny considered dropping it…then, he remembered what Vlad had said about him. ‘More like me every day’. Vlad wouldn’t hesitate, if it were an enemy of his he could get rid of that easily, and Danny would rather have Vlad alive and taunting him every moment for the rest of his life than let him win that argument, even in death. It felt oddly surreal, nightmarish, walking ahead of Maddie up the stairs to the main house, and then again to the room she must now share with Vlad…and that was a thought Danny was trying his best not to dwell on…knowing what was waiting for him at the end. The walk seemed to take too long, even with his mom clearly bubbling over with relief a step behind him, such that Danny was almost afraid she’d topple over from sheer exhaustion before they made it.

He thought, on that walk, that nothing could surprise him. He was proven wrong twice over, as he pushed the bedroom door open, to see Jack Fenton sitting on the bed. “Da- Ah…he’s…?” Danny forced himself to look down at Vlad, lying unconscious and eerily still, and to look concerned while he did it. “Been like this for half an hour,” Jack said tersely, “Maddie- I think we’re losing him.” The pain in his voice was unlike anything Danny had heard there before, except…well, a couple hours and twenty years ago. “Mom’s figured out the impurities,” Danny said quickly, “Uh…do we put it on the sores, or…” “It needs to be taken orally,” Maddie said, trying for ‘brisk’ and only getting another permutation of ‘worried’. “Jack, could you?” Jack nodded fervently. “On it, baby,” he said, taking the flask straight out of Danny’s hands, and leaning over Vlad to pour it into his mouth. Medicines did not, generally speaking, work instantaneously. But, like everything else to do with ghosts, the ecto-purifier didn’t work like a regular medicine. The sores began to fade from Vlad’s face, healing up before Danny’s eyes, even as Vlad’s flickered open. “What- Maddie?” he mumbled, which was more or less what Danny would have expected to be the first thing Vlad would say on waking up. “V-Man!” Jack cried, delighted, and tugged Vlad a little off the bed into a bone-crushing hug. This, too, was to be expected. Rather less expected was what happened next, as Jack’s grip loosened, and he leant down to kiss Vlad full on the mouth.

If you had asked Danny, before all of this, what Vlad Masters’ most probable response to Jack Fenton kissing him would be, he would have said…well, first he would have spent a few minutes protesting his horror at the whole idea, but after that, he would’ve said that Jack was probably going to get his nose broken, and should consider himself lucky if that was the worst of it. Or, possibly, that Vlad would set those creepy vulture-ghosts on him, or use the kiss as a way of breaking up Jack and Maddie so he could seduce Maddie for himself. Not that he’d ever put much thought into the idea, because…well, why would he? He was fourteen, and the thought of his father kissing anyone was bad enough. The one scenario Danny had never come up with, however, was Vlad reaching up with one hand, the sores on the back fading even as Danny watched, to catch Jack gently by the chin, his long fingers tangling themselves in dark hair.

When they broke apart, which felt much longer to Danny, standing there in train-wreck fascination, than it had probably been in objective seconds, Jack was beaming, and even Vlad looked…less murderous than Danny would’ve expected, really, as he shoved Jack lightly in the chest. “You’re crushing me, you big oaf,” he said, which was also to be expected, but the tone was wrong – too warm, and softer than sounded right in Vlad’s voice. It wasn’t a quality Danny had ever heard there before, and it took him a few tries to tentatively label it as ‘affectionate’. This was around the point at which Danny’s overtaxed understanding of reality started to give out. If anyone had asked him what he was thinking, Danny would have said he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, but only because his mind had very nearly shut down even before Maddie sat down on the bed on Vlad’s other side, and been quite comprehensively kissed in her turn.

If anyone had asked him, Danny would have said that Vlad Masters was obsessed with Maddie to the point of mania, hated Jack to an equal degree, and would sooner have cut off his own testicles with a spoon than sit there, between the two of them, with Jack’s arm around his back and Maddie’s hand in his, having kissed them both just seconds before. Probably the last rational thought that went through Danny’s head had been ‘well, so much for the Desiree and brainwashing theories’. Because, honestly, his regularly scheduled Vlad would not have taken this part of the whole situation with any grace at all. A hand landed on his shoulder, and Danny looked up to see Jazz, standing next to him, watching the three by the bed with a sort of amused tolerance. “Come on,” she said, too quietly to be heard over the frantic gasps of ‘so worried’ and ‘how did you-?’ from further inside. “Leave them to it.”

[metataxy]

Maul Post-Order 66 Fanfic, #11

A WIP: After Order 66, Darth Maul accidentally acquires a child.  Spoiler alert, it’s Seventh Sister.

This isn’t going on AO3 until I finish and edit the shit out of it, but you can read what I’ve done so far here:

Maul 1, Maul 2, Dathomir 1, Maul 3, Dathomir 2, Maul 4, Dathomir 3 , Dathomir 4, Maul 5, Lothal 1, Seventh as a Nightsister

This is set after Maul 5.

Warnings: Racism, references to previous emotional abuse, head injury

The night cycle came, and Maul laid back upon the pallet in his cabin.  

The sterile smell of the new shuttle had been replaced with the rank odour of unwashed human.  Below it, he scented the subtle, almost floral tones of the child.  The distant sounds of the prisoners in the cargo bay echoed through the ventilation shafts.  

His apprentice should be in the cabin she’d claimed for herself, sleeping soundly after the day’s training. They’d gone through her katas, then he’d set her to practising her aim on moving targets.  He’d had her prepare dinner while he did his own calisthenics, and for once, the girl had managed to cook something edible without any minor injuries.  He’d set her to studying coding and robotics—her only interests with any real use—before the sleep cycle.

She <i>should</i> be asleep.

Instead, he heard the faint shift of her bare feet on the durasteel tiling outside his cabin.

He waited.  

And waited.

And finally, his door slid open.

She padded timidly across the floor to his bunk.

“Master?”

He didn’t move.  His eyes were open though, and she regarded him shyly through her lashes.

Then she hoisted herself up, cuddled into his side, and started crying against him.

Maul went stiff with shock.

Had he ever cried, as a child?  If he had, he didn’t remember it.  Sidious would never have tolerated such weakness.  But Sidious had never cared for Maul after all.

He put his arm around his apprentice, and held her close, and let her cry.

When she was done, and asleep in his arms, he felt better for it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moakes didn’t recover.

Oh, he lived.  His breathing eased, he’d begun to sit up and move around a little.  He wasn’t there though.  He didn’t seem to understand where they were, barely seemed to understand language.  He placidly accepted Creel’s direction to piss in the bucket and hide in the corner and let Stelkin spoon into his mouth the inedible mush their captors gave them.  Beyond that, he sat down, rocking back and forth, slurring the words “Good soldiers,” over and over, even in his sleep.

He knew some of the older clones, never having been intended to outlast the war with the Federation, showed signs of neural degeneration.  Moakes had already outlived his life expectancy.  Maybe this latest shock had simply pushed him into a natural decline.  Creel’s mother had been this way before she died, muttering nonsense and barely seeming aware of her surroundings.

He and his wife had done his best for her, until the end.  He’d do the same with Moakes.

He set Stelkin in charge of the old clone.  It would be good for them both, he reasoned.  Given something he could actually do, the kid already seemed less anxious.

With Stelkin busied in caring for Moakes, he continued to look for a means of escape.

He’d pried away a wall tile behind a crate and had access now to the ventilation duct.  He could barely fit into the shaft adjacent to the cargo bay.  Stelkin, who’d been skinny before their capture and lost more weight than the rest of them on their dubious rations, would move through more easily.  He really didn’t trust either of them not to make so much noise as to alert their captor though.  

Should he wait for the ship to dock?  Sooner or later, the man would have to land somewhere and buy supplies.  With prisoners aboard, surely he wouldn’t risk having provisions delivered.  Of course, Creel realized dismally, a Jedi might frequent spaceports that viewed captive sentients no differently than live cargo.  Or he might simply plan to kill them before they re-entered port.

The alternative, of course, was to guess at their captor’s sleep cycle and try exploring the shafts then, with no guarantee whether they might wake him.

Of course, Creel brooded, their captor was a Jedi.  There were no guarantees for any of this.  For all he knew, the man was listening to his thoughts right now.

He shook his head violently, as though to physically dislodge the notion from his mind.  That way madness led.  He had to keep it together, had to act like they still had a chance in all this, or they wouldn’t have one at all.

He might have to give up on getting the girl out though, he conceded unhappily.  She clung ever closer to the Jedi, had begun to call him Master.  Creel didn’t think she’d react any less violently to being separated from him now than she had when he’d tried to rescue her the first time.  And gods knew what dark arts the red man had taught her since then.  

No, Creel decided.  They’d escape.  Just him and Stelkin, if need be.  He swallowed.  If it came to it, he’d give Moakes the mercy of as gentle a death as he could manage.  They could call the Empire with the girl’s location.  There were specialists to handle Jedi.  He wasn’t equipped for this.

Speak of the devil.

The girl clanged through the door, toting along her ridiculously oversized clone blaster.  At least she was carrying it correctly now, not dangling it from her hand like his daughter did with her dollies.  

He re-examined the thought and grimaced.   In no way should he be relieved to see a seven year old learning how to potentially kill more efficiently, but stang, it was hard to step away from the mentality of an arms instructor.  

She threw down the lukewarm packets containing their meal and started shooting without as much as a word.

She’d improved, he thought, goosepimples rising on his arm.

Oh, she wouldn’t be landing bulls-eyes reliably anytime soon, but the carbon scoring of her shots had begun to center about the X the red man had sprayed on the wall earlier.  

Corine’s twelve-year-old nephew wanted to enlist as soon as he turned of age.  The kid had been practising daily for a year when Moakes had gotten the chance to take him out for some private lessons, and he’d barely done as well.

She continued on for an indeterminate length of time, the bolts growing fainter and more transparent, until he heard the click-and-hiss that told him she’d depleted the plasma blaster’s gas cartridge.  She swore in a language Moakes didn’t recognize, sat down, and began to mess with the loading mechanism—unsuccessfully, apparently, because she disappeared for a time.  

Having nothing better to do, Creel finished his lackluster meal and returned to his other project of the past weeks—preparing Stelkin for combat.  

The kid had been a dutiful, if not brilliant trainee back at base.  If the nausea from their rations, the fear, and the sleep deprivation should have made him somewhat less attentive, the motivation of trying to escape seemed to compensate.

Somewhat.

“He’s a Jedi,” Stelkin complained, staring at the tiles.  “What do we know about fighting that kind of space wizard shit?”

Creel wasn’t going to undermine the kid’s morale by agreeing with him.  “He’s a man,” Creel said firmly.  “He’ll bleed and die just the same as any other man if you can get a knife in him.  Now think back to your training.  What weak spots does he have?”

Stelkin chewed on his lip uncertainly.  “I think his legs are prosthetics.  At least, when he was kicking us around, they hit harder than they should have, even accounting for whatever kind of freaky alien he is.  No idea where they attach though.”

“Something to keep a look-out for,” Creel agreed.  “Anything else?”

Stelkin shrugged helplessly.  “He’s old?”

That damn kid, Creel thought ruefully.  The Jedi didn’t look much older than Creel himself.  “Appearance isn’t a good indicator of chronological age or relative frailty, even between humanoids.  How he looks now could be standard for his species.”

“What about the kid?” Stelkin said.

Creel blinked.  “What about her?”

“I mean, I know you tried to use her as a hostage to get the Jedi to turn the ship around earlier and that didn’t work, but you didn’t have back-up then.” Stelkin licked his lips nervously.  “What if I grab her and while he’s dealing with me, you take him out.”

“Let’s leave that as a last resort,” Creel decided.  “We already got off to a bad start with her.  She needs to see we aren’t the bad guys here.”

Stelkin looked at him like he was mad.  “She’s a jedi padawan and an alien.”

“No, she’s been forced to learn to be a jedi after the last one killed her family.  ISB agent wouldn’t show me the photos, but I’ve never seen the man so shaken.  Guess another jedi massacred her whole family.  As for the alien bit…”  Creel shrugged.  “She can’t help that either.  And it’s not like you should be one to judge.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stelkin demanded.

“Kid.”  Creel’s eyes flicked over the cadet head to toe.  “You grow your hair past regulation length, but I can still see your ears are pointier than a standard human’s.”  Stelkin flushed, in anger or embarrassment, Creel couldn’t tell.  “Stang, kid, it’s fine.  No such thing as a standard human in spacer colonies anyway.  Only get those with backwater worlds or weird religious cults.  My great grandmother was Tholothian—not that anyone cares or you could tell without a bloodtest.”

Stelkin stared down at the tiles and played with the stained hem of his bodysuit.  “Right.”

“It’s a good idea,” Creel reassured.  “If you do get the chance, grab the kid.  I don’t think we’ll have the opportunity though.  She never comes down the lift without the Jedi, and he’s usually pretty careful with her if he does bring her down.”

“Jedi,” Moakes repeated, rocking forward, a line of drool hanging from the corner of his lip to his crusted collar.  “Kill the Jedi.”

“Exactly Moakes,” Creel said, forcing a smile, and patting the old clone on the back.  “Kill the Jedi.  Save the girl.”

The door clanged open again, and the girl, with a bitten off shriek of frustration, charged back through.  The depleted gas cartridge had become jammed halfway through removal.  She hammered it on one side of the rickety overlook to try to dislodge it.

“Not like that,” Creel yelled over the racket.  Stelkin eyed him incredulously.  “There’s two buttons on either side of the cartridge!”

She stopped hammering and squinted down at him suspiciously.  

“The two buttons,” Creel told her.  “Push them both at the same time and force the cartridge all the way back in.  Then press them both again and pull it out.”

She stared at the gun, stared back at Creel.

Then, she sat down on the overlook and set herself to examining the cartridge’s release mechanism.

“Why are you helping her?” Stelkin demanded.  “Do you really want her to be shooting that thing, sir?”

“She’ll be shooting it sooner or later either way,” Creel pointed out quietly.  “This way, she at least gets to consider us as potentially helpful, and not just the latest people trying to kidnap her.”

She dislodged the cartridge as Creel had instructed and loaded the next.  A moment later, and Creel and Stelkin scrambled aside as a blaster bolt hit squarely where they’d been sitting.  They glanced up.  The girl stared them both down, unimpressed.

There was no way she could have heard what he said, Creel thought.  

Warning given, she turned back to the target on the wall and continued her practice.  

She <i>wasn’t</i> human though, Stelkin’s earlier reminder came to him.  

He squared his shoulders.  It didn’t matter.  She was a little girl.  Rudith’s age.  

He thought of his daughter, hopefully now tucked up in bed with her stuffed dollies, or building mudforts out in the woods behind their house.  

He thought of this girls’ family, all those dead spacers, reduced to a few lines of text in an Imperial investigation.

I’ll get her out, he promised them, watching the girls’ shots land closer and closer to the target.  The jedi won’t take this child.