#or get mauled horribly by some sort of creature

[juney-blues]

[sneppu]

The Reasons Why Severus Snape is Secretly a Cat, Actually.

I'm saying he's a neglected and abused stray little black cat and here is why

He's very meow meow. VERY kitten.

Black cats are vilified and assumed by some to be evil. Coincidentally, both of these things happen to Snape as well.

Difficult to befriend. Cats are already picky about who they like, and Cats who have had it rough are even more difficult. One cannot just waltz up to a cat like that expect friendliness, or even indifference for that matter.

Extremely bad, no good, very bad luck with dogs. Seriously, the man MUST have dog trauma by now. Werewolves? Sirius, one of his biggest haters and tormentors, a dog animagus? even Fluffy mauling his leg?? The first two were marauders, yes, but that's not a good thing when it comes to Snape. (not all dogs and cats dont get along, but its certainly interesting. Personally, I headcanon him as a definite cat person who has a bad associations with dogs but thats a whole other post.)

Very hissy and snarly and unpleasant when threatened - and sometimes, even when YOU think there's no apparent threat! This is premium Gato™ Behavior. An abused little shelter cat, horribly unsocialized, becoming hyper defensive anytime anything happens to him, even if the thing that is happening is kind.

it fits with the idea that hes "mean for no reason" because there IS a reason - cats are complicated little guys! Where you see a nonissue, He might see a threat. Where you see kindness, he might see mockery. Where you see playfulness he might see cruelty, and so on. After all, he's been on the receiving end of it all too often.

Cats like this usually end up stuck in shelters - not a home - because no one will take them. They're too offputting, they're too mean, they're too much trouble. One could argue that Hogwarts itself IS that shelter in this scenario; a place to be, but not a home. Not really.

Worth noting: maybe to Harry, Hogwarts can be considered a sort-of Home, but he actually found kindness and friends there. Severus lost his only friend and was tormented there. Better than his incredibly shitty situation with his family? Certainly! but Shelters often are.

SWM fits as well; A moment of extreme distress from being humiliated, afraid, and overwhelmed? all those jeering laughing faces while he is vulnerable and unsafe, defenseless at the hands of people who have continuously hurt him for years?? and to see and know that his friend - his BEST friend - the only friend; the only PERSON, he has, is there holding back a smile as it is happening too? Have you ever met a cat in distress? of course he lashed out. It's honestly astounding that he didnt lash out MORE.

and while on the subject of SWM, him lashing out at Lily applies here too. A cornered, distressed cat (especially one with a history of abuse) sees everything as a threat , even people it is normally friendly to, if it's distressed enough. Have you tried to bathe a cat? or maybe tried to coax one to get into a cat carrier for the vet? these things are very difficult but manageable at the best of times but "vulnerable, afraid, humiliated, and threatened" are NOT the best of times, I fear.

it even works with his occlumency and the way he deals with vulnerability as well. Cats, when in pain, do their best to hide that pain. This is because to be outwardly hurt is to be vulnerable, and that can lead to predation by bigger animals. Severus too, hides his vulnerability. The things that truly matter to him, his worries, his soft and squishy bits, and loyalties all carefully locked away.

Rivalry with Minerva?? that's just good ol' unserious cat drama. Have u ever seen an indoor cat staring down a stray through the window? silly little creatures. They'll grumble about it and act like its on sight (and maybe it is!) but when you're not looking, there'll be sniffing through the glass and pretending they dont care while they nap suspiciously close by.

Starved for affection and touch. An abused stray, past all the hissing and the fear and violence, once they're finally given a chance and finally understand that they are safe, just wants to be loved. They usually end up being the most affectionate and loyal cats of all! only to those they feel safe with, of course.

And speaking of loyalty, that applies here too. He was loyal to Lily, the first and only person to show him kindness (though my feelings for her are very complicated) and he was later loyal to Dumbledore. Unfortunately, neither of these people ever truly took in the stray, not really. And so the Stray was never actually socialized, and never completely safe, and never actually given a home.

and finally.. his death. Cats have a tendency to hide when nearing death, or dying.. and as such, often die in solitude. Severus may not have exactly had a direct hand in this of course, but.. there's something about him dying in this shitty little shack, far away from the action, presumably alone (or so he thought until Harry and his friends materialized out of nowhere under the cloak.). He wasn't actually alone in his actual final moments, but in the time leading up to it? Very lonely.

In a way, one could say that Lily came closest to adopting the stray Sev cat. And maybe she would have! maybe she wanted to take in the stray at one point - had planned to, even! But her friends told her he was dirty and gross, "who knows where that things been! he's probably diseased". and The marauders kept tormenting him, making him increasingly defensive and hissy and violent, as cats often are in that situation and then it was also "look how cruel and mean he is! he'll only hurt you". and maybe when the time finally came and that defensiveness finally WAS aimed at her it only confirmed what she had already begun to believe. And then she decided she wasnt a cat person after all. Who knows? One could make an argument for all of that. Do i see things that way? maybe, maybe not. My feelings toward every character who is not Snape are largely indifferent for the most part.

Verdict: Severus Snape is a Cat. He is a little kitten meow meow. Give this man a little cauldron to curl up in asap

[mantisgodiveblog]

Pretty much how we'd thought, then! Though this does answer a handful of our questions. Not purely monogamous! We'd ask how the piercings work when you have multiple partners, but we have already had this question answered by a dearly trusted source, and so we trust that polyamorous people putting their earrings in a chain is real & true. We are also: Looking at Odile's response of this stuff not being for her.

Oh, huh, we hadn't noticed before, but they do all wear earrings, don't they? All of the party members except for Siffrin and Odile, that is. We doubt that pierced ears are, specifically, a bonding earring thing - we doubt Bonnie is bonded to just about anyone at this point unless bonding earrings also have platonic meaning, and considering how Isabeau opened that, we don't think that they do, unless he's committed the horrendous crime of forgetting a major purpose of Bonding Earrings whilst giving the cliff notes version of it. Amatonormativity being a plague as usual, of course. But we'd expect ears to be pierced fairly young if earrings are that important to folks.

Tragic! The Star Reversed has committed a social blunder. However could this have happened? At the very least, we're gaining information, so it's not wasted.

We would love to know the cultural context for this evolving, honestly, but without full context it might be a bit of a chicken-egg issue. We'd expect that the book might have some information on the history of the practice, and whether you would've originally been piercing your ears specifically in preparation for a bonding earring, or whether earrings were just already a significant presence in Vaugardian culture and the bonding earring tradition grew from that ground.

It's the immediate squick reaction, it seems. She'll get over it later, maybe, but she'll probably feel Weird about it later unless she spends some time working through whatever her underpinning issue with the concept is. Probably requires some "why is this thing I've grown up with suddenly so gross to me" type thinking and working out how she wants to route this particular flavor of thought, because unfortunately, winding up in a space where a major cultural element of the place that you live is immediately repulsive really isn't going to be Fun, and recoiling from that every time you think of it is gonna wind up in some very maladaptive places.

You've got to think about it and figure out how to deconstruct that thought. Work out the whys of why you feel that way, and work out where you're going to take that. If you don't spend the time to detangle your kneejerk reactions and work out the underpinning logic and emotions, then you're going to be far more vulnerable to running into spots where you'll massively overreact to things that don't really matter due to your own horrendous little combinations of neuroses and proceed to make an ass of yourself.

Everyone's got bias, and everyone's got their own little combinations of brain wrinkles. Unfortunately, if one does not know oneself, then oneself may make oneself a huge ass on a basis that they can neither justify nor fully explain, and that will suck for all people involved. Whatever reasoning lives in your brain may be perfectly logical to you! It may not, unfortunately, be perfectly logical to those around you, and this is why it is important to know what sorts of landmines you have lying around.

We, for example, have Very Strong opinions on biological determinism, the way that people treat the terms of "evolution" and species being "better" than each other, and fantasy universes where people will arbitrarily assign inborn anthromorphized traits to random animals or people such as deciding that something is always "born pure" or "born evil" or such. This is because we have spent entirely too much time researching animal behavior and biology, and we have a number of Personal Hangups that we will not be getting into here! Being aware of this does not stop us from strongly disliking these things and being likely to make an ass of ourself if they get brought up in just the wrong way, but it does help us avoid situations where it may be relevant! We have a relatively long fuse, but it does have an end, and if you start implying that highly specific cultural concepts are inborn in some way we will encase you in a brick of concrete until you do enough self-reflection to consider maybe not saying that.

More verses: close enough to the first that we can probably still count them as "same as the first", but, like, technically verse 1 only hit the first floor, and we got crushed by a boulder, and loops take way more than one thread to cover on average so calling these threads "verses" would be inaccurate on this count, too, and... actually, on second thought, this metaphor may have gotten away from us. It's the liveblog. We're doing more of it again.

(Part 27 is here)

We are starting this thread, of course, with getting a key. And also considering to ourself if this is a point where we should tag as Act 2 spoilers or if we're still too early in the game for that. Considering how slowly we do things, it might not be, but this late into Loop 3... ehh, we'll figure it out, we guess. That's the last point of interest in the library, regardless, so now we can move on.

We are avoiding the Cursing book in the classroom this go-round, though we're still investigating everything else. In the meantime we are, of course, calling Loop. We've already investigated the library, actually! You'll find that your advice is unneeded! We are, as they say, "on the ball", and also listening to gossip about disappearing islands that were apparently quite close to Bambouche. And also how to run from our problems. Perhaps this is vengeance on calling for advice that we don't need in situations where we already know precisely what to do. If so, let it be known that we still do not intend to stop.

Not much new dialogue here, for the most part, but we got Siffirn to open the Bonding Earrings book, finally!

Finally, we are permitted to learn about bonding earrings! And it only took the witnessing of a single body! And one bout of our teammates writing fanfiction about a frozen person directly in front of their face! A fair trade-off, if you ask us.

…ah. It seems that we've forgotten: we can lead a horse to water, but we are still, regretfully, beholden to the whims and emotions of our current vessel.  Siffrin, we cannot stress this enough: we have, quite literally, all of the time in the world. It will not kill you to read a few dry academic books. For our sake, if nothing else.

No, don't cop out on us. Tell us the details, Isabeau. We would love to know precisely what happens here in as much detail as you can possibly give us. We've got time. Though it's probably not terribly polite to start destroying dashboards in our leading post.

[dragynkeep]

The zoo comments really are indicative of a really annoying trend I see online where everyone is trying to act like animal behaviorists

I think it's good that people are trying to be more aware on matters like animals welfare, obviously, but some people swing so wildly in the other direction it gets annoying and sometimes harmful.

Like, the zoo comments you said. It isn't the 1900s anymore, zoos aren't just little cages but entire habitats made specifically for the animals! Obviously there are cases of zoos that mistreat the animals, but most are good. In fact, zoos often help to bring animals back from near extinction because they can be bred in captivity.

But then you see comments on (humane) feeding videos about how the owner is an awful person for killing the mouse or whatever is being fed to the predator and its like??? Predators have to eat too? That isn't animals abuse.

I also see a trend where any cute video is met with accusations of abuse and its getting annoying. Obviously there are some that are genuinely harmful, but some people will see a video where an owner is just mildly annoying their pet and call for their deaths. It's wild 💀

It is really frustrating when you have people calling for the end of zoos and trying to defame these places when they are so important for conservation and wildlife, and they do this without any sort of idea on what they're even saying.

You obviously don't have to have a degree in zoology or animal behaviour, but the very least you could be is educated when talking about these, because so many of these see things like concrete being used in some parts of the enclosure, or that it's smaller than they like, or the animal is legit just sitting or lying there and immediately they jump to "This is horrible and wrong and these animals should be free."

When it's wrong for so many reasons. Yes, zoos want these animals back in the wild, they want the world to be safe enough that these creatures can survive and thrive and not need their help, but that is very much impossible. There will always be habitat encroachment, poaching, exotic pet trades, anything that is a danger to these creatures.

So zoos very much work to preserve these species and also educate the public in what they're like and how they need help. Chester Zoo here in the UK is one of the biggest contributers for conservation, I actually had to write a paper on how they and a few other zoos in the UK work to ensure the animals are safe, healthy and thriving.

And I understand that these people are doing this out of a misguided care for the animals, but I'm sorry, they need to educate themselves. The very least you can do is brush up on animal behaviour and stop fucking anthropomorphising these animals.

The gorilla isn't sad, he's relaxed because he and his troup aren't gonna get mauled by leopards or have their hands chopped off for ash trays.

[doctor-sailor-investigator]

@alis-valot-propriis from Sorta Hunter!Steve

It only took a few deployments for Steve to come across his first supernatural creature. To say it was a shock was an understatement. In the beginning, he thought it was pretty black and white about how things were, the hierarchy of the food chain but that changed when his best friend of the time survived a werewolf mauling and became a werewolf himself. He had to give up his life as a SEAL but he was alive.

Steve switched to the reserves in order to help Freddie and along the way the supernatural sort of became his life. Learning about it as they road trip across the country. Freddie felt a new restlessness and even though they were told it might get better if he found a pack, none they've encountered felt like home.

Freddie's control wasn't the best, so each month they had to hunker down with Steve becoming in charge to make sure Freddie didn't hurt himself or anyone else.

They were in Beacon Hills around the time of the latest full moon. There was a lot of supernatural activity close by that they didn't have a chance to properly prepare. Freddie's tie-up job was horribly make-shift and Steve was a bit bruised and bloodied with Freddie making some wild noises. A motel room probably wasn't the best place to hold a werewolf but it was better than nothing.

Steve was guarding the door from the outside after securing the windows with the little bit of mountain ash they had when he saw someone approaching.

"It's not as bad as it sounds."

[waithyuck]

TRICKY

pairing: elf! na jaemin x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: {OKAY IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR VERY MILD *DUB-CON* BC TECHNICALLY THE READER IS TRICKED , BUT IN THE END OBVIOUSLY CONSENTS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}, sexual content (fingering, dry humping), explicit language, use of several pet names, possessive behavior and vocabulary, reader just wants to find her damn cat but gets a whole lot more than that, bad attempts at explaining folklore, I’m sorry for any inaccuracies 😬 **ALSO UNEDITED**

a/n: **repost bc tumblr sucks** this is definitely more of my own spin on what I think an elf would be like, so sorry to those of you who are into the lore and stuff 🥺

< previous | next >

~10/14/2020~

~~~~

your grandmother was always a very smart woman, and you knew that very well. so when she told you not to do something, you made sure to NEVER do it.

you lived with her on the very outskirts of your town; your own backyard made up of a very dense forest with enough trees in it to block out almost all sunlight. your bedroom window faced the forest, and every night you were forced to stare at it as you sat at your desk, contemplating what went on in there.

your grandmother repeatedly told you to never go in there, no matter what, ever since you were a child. she would talk about all kinds of crazy things, like witches and faeries, and even elves.

the first time she told you about the dark forest, you were only six years old.

“you can’t go in there, y/n.” she said seriously, crouching before you as you stood in the kitchen with her. “no matter how much it may call you, you can never enter it.”

you didn’t understand, so of course, in typical child fashion, you questioned her.

“well why not?” you shot back, crossing your arms and pouting. she stood back up after looking at you for a second, going back to mixing brownie batter in a large bowl.

“the fae are dangerous creatures. the forest is littered with them, my dear.” she stopped for a moment, gazing out the kitchen window and into the thick gathering of trees and plant life. “the elves will claim you once you enter, and you may never be able to escape again.”

after that, she didn’t say much else to you about it.

at first, you thought she was just trying to scare you into not wandering off, but after a while you began to believe her.

there would be strange noises in the night; like whispers calling out to you from the direction of your window. it creeped you out but you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

your life continued on like that for years, and eventually it didn’t phase you at all. you were used to the nightly whispers now, and even your cat didn’t seem to mind them, if she could hear them at all.

you never told your grandmother about them, however. she was getting old and you didn’t want to be the reason she had a heart attack, as awful as that sounded.

for being as old as she was, she still got around pretty good, and there were days when she left you along for a good few hours to go out on walks with her other old lady friends.

it was really cute.

today was just like any other day like that; your grandmother left around eleven in the morning to go out, leaving you some breakfast on the counter for when you inevitably stumbled out of your room at one o’clock in the afternoon.

everything seemed normal. you ate in silence and scrolled through your phone at the kitchen table, but then noticed something was right.

looking around you, you noticed your cat was nowhere in sight. she would usually be up on the table sitting and staring at you or rubbing against your leg for no reason, but currently she was nowhere to be found.

at first you just assumed she was sleeping somewhere else, but after eating you searched the house and couldn’t find her anywhere. walking back into the kitchen you happened to glance outside and your heart jumped in your chest.

then you started to panic.

looking out into the backyard you saw her stark white fur disappear into the thick brush of the forest, and you almost screamed out loud at the sight.

“fuck,” you exclaimed, your heart racing and your mind thinking of all the ways to try to get her back. you were always advised to not go into the forest...but you couldn’t let your poor cat who you loved very dearly to get mauled out there by some bigger animal.

you had to go after her.

you mustered you all the courage you had inside you, not bothering to change out of your ratty shorts and t-shirt before shoving your feet in your sneakers. you let out a shaky breath as you walked into your backyard, staring down the darkness of the forest with determination.

as you apprehensively made your way to the very entrance of the brush, you spotted a large crooked stick, and didn’t hesitate to grab it to use as a weapon if necessary.

you didn’t want to be completely defenseless against any supernatural creatures you came across. you had a gut feeling that running into one would be inevitable, and the fear rang like a siren in the back of your mind like a sonata.

the ‘do not enter’ and ‘keep out: danger’ signs did nothing to ease your pounding heart and screaming nerves, but you pressed on regardless. you had to do this, for your stupid cat.

with one large step, you passed the boundary of the trees, the wind picking up as soon as you did. a chill ran down your spine but you kept your legs moving, careful not to break your ankles on any protruding roots. it was incredibly dark, even though the sun was high in the sky, but the leaves of the towering trees cut out almost all light.

you stumbled around aimlessly for what felt like hours, but in reality it had only probably been about 45 minutes before you stopped and took a breather. checking your phone for the time, you felt a pang in your chest when you realized that it was off, and wouldn’t turn back on no matter how hard you tried.

“fuck,” you muttered, fear creeping up on your soul once again. you really didn’t want to be in this forest longer than necessary, and you really seriously contemplated just leaving your cat behind, as horrible as that was.

your eyes gazed around, taking in the trees surrounding you. nothing seemed too out of the ordinary...all though you really though you saw a few small dashes of light fly around you through your periphery. you prayed that they weren’t pixies or fairies of whatever else your grandmother told you about.

you didn’t trust anything, no matter how beautiful or non-threatening they seemed to be on the outside.

“hello there.” a voice spoke out suddenly, causing you to jump and spin around, dropping your makeshift weapon in the process.

your eyes met the sight of a young man who looked to be around your age, with a slightly unsettling smile upon his face. he was almost too handsome; the beauty that emanated from him in waves was incredibly addicting, and you felt the pull of him immediately. it was hard to tear your eyes away, and that scared you.

you had no idea where he had come from, nor did you know how he managed to so quietly sneak up behind you like he did. you definitely would have heard him coming, considering the amount of twigs and leaves littering the ground at your feet.

your heart raced at the possibility of who, or what, he was, your mind trying to go through everything your sweet old grandmother ever told you. some inner part of you already knew what you were dealing with.

“don’t hurt yourself, darling,” the man spoke again, referencing to your mind working in overtime. he took a step forward toward you, and in turn you took a large stumbling step back. he watched you move, chuckling. “I’m jaemin, care to tell me your name?”

“n-no,” you managed to say, your hands clutched at your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart. you swore you saw his eyes flicker a bright aquamarine for a moment before returning back to brown as his smile faltered slightly. It came back a split second later.

“you’re a smart girl,” he purred, most likely realizing that you knew he wasn’t human, inching closer once more. you felt frozen, unable to step back like you truly wanted to, and you willed yourself not to panic. “you know what I am, I presume?”

your lips shook as you opened your mouth to speak, your tongue running over your chapped lips and he watched every single movement, causing your body to shiver.

“I have a-an idea,” you softly whispered, not breaking eye contact as he stopped in front of you. he didn’t say a word, only smiling at you as you stayed frozen in your spot. one word screamed in your mind: elf. you didn’t even have to look at his pointed ears to deduct that. the vibe he gave off was abundantly clear, even if you had never encountered another being of his kind before.

it didn’t feel like he was compelling you; it was more or less your reaction to the immense shock and fear you felt, coming in contact with a creature your grandmother always warned you about.

and it’s all because of your dumb cat.

“l-look dude, I’m just trying to find my cat.” you stated strongly now, holding your ground as best you could as he looked at you intensely, that slightly unsettling smile never leaving his face.

“once it entered the forest it became mine.” he simply retorted, leaning against the tree trunk beside him. “anything that passes the trees here belongs to me…” he paused for a moment, his eyes now glowing a full bright aquamarine, startling you as he seared his gaze through your very soul. “so I guess that means you’re mine as well. how lucky.”

the elf spoke softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made you shiver, paired with his choice of words.

“I-I’m not..” you stuttered, your fists clenched by your sides. was he the ruler of the forest? some sort of elf king?

“you’re not?” he asked, chuckling to himself as he pushed his body from the tree, slowly slithering toward you on his bare feet. “did you not hear what I said? everything in this forest is mine. that includes living creatures,” you had no willpower to move away as he crowded your space, his glowing eyes paralyzing you as his body drew closer and closer. “I wonder what I should do with my new possession.” he smirked to himself, reaching a pale hand out to gently cup your chin, laughing lowly as you instinctively flinched. “you are without a doubt the prettiest thing I’ve seen enter my domain in years, princess. I’ve been waiting for you.”

his last sentence threw you off, but for a moment your brain couldn’t remember the whispers you heard all those years, and it didn’t click. you couldn’t deny that this elf man was attractive; and you couldn’t deny the fact that his voice had your legs weakening with every word he spoke. you cursed yourself mentally for being affected by him, because deep down you were aware of the danger of encountering elves.

thinking back to your cat, you wondered why she would have left the house in the first place. she was lazy and never wanted to really move...unless something was calling her…

your heart seemed to stop beating and your blood ran cold.

“you tr-tricked me…” you said in realization, your eyes widening. “you tricked me into coming in here, using m-my cat!” your voice was panicked and you found it hard to breathe. then, your brain finally figured it out. “you’re the one that’s been whispering to me all these years, aren’t y-you?”

he smiled at you with dark aquamarine eyes, and now you weren’t sure how you were going to get yourself out of this mess.

you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to get out of this mess.

wait, what?, your eyes widened at your own thoughts, where did that come from??

suddenly and without warning, your entire body was grasped in his hold. his hands dominantly gripped your waist and flipped you around so that your front was smacked up against a tree, the sharp bark scratching your cheek as your face was scraped against it.

“you’re my kitty now.” his voice whispered directly into your ear, his breath causing your body to visibly shiver in his hold.

you didn’t mean to whine, you really didn’t, but when he his teeth found your ear and nibbled gently on the skin, you couldn’t hold it in. your legs trembled beneath you as your knees weakened, the feeling of his warm body pressed tightly against your back leaving you wanting more and more.

he pressed deceivingly sweet kisses along your neck, your hands clutching the bark of the tree in response, your nails scratching along the surface. you jolted when you felt his right hand move down your front and nestle between your legs, putting pressure right against your covered center.

“hmm, you want it, don’t you?” he mumbled quietly, his chest rumbling against your back. “your thoughts are so loud, I know you can’t resist me.”

your thighs clenched in anticipation as he ran his long fingers delicately along your core through your shorts, and you let out a breathy whimper in response.

he tsk’d at you, giving your pussy a light slap through the thin fabric before completely drawing it away. “I wanna hear you say yes, kitty.”

his voice was demanding as he spoke, and you couldn’t disobey.

with your eyes glazing over, you gripped the tree trunk tightly and mewled out, “yes!”

you could practically hear him smirk, his chuckling causing you to grow even more wet as he finally slipped his hand down your front and into your shorts. when his long finger reached your bare and sensitive nub, you could help but arch your back, causing your ass to press tightly against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned right in your ear, his hips bucking and grinding against your behind in time with his strokes against your clit.

“you’re already so wet, darling,” he moaned out, dipping his finger down to circle your entrance. “I could just...slide right in.” with those words, he slipped his index finger into you in one clean movement, his long finger reaching deep inside your pussy.

you cried out when the tip of his finger brushed a sweet spot inside you, and you heard him groan in response, a deep chuckle following.

“good girl,” he muttered, casually slipping his middle finger inside you beside his pointer. the stretch had you throwing you head back, giving him access to your pretty neck. “be as loud as you want, baby. it’s just me, you, and the forest now.”

his hips grinding against your from behind never ceased, and he thrusted his fingers to the same rhythm as his hips. he was literally fingerfucking you; before you knew it he was adding a third finger.

to help with the burn of the stretch, he reached his free hand down and used two fingers to pinch and roll your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth at the sudden immense pleasure you were feeling.

it was embarrassing, but you were already so close to reaching your high. you really wanted this feeling to last forever, so you tried to hold it as long as you could.

the noises escaping from you only grew louder the harder he went; the powerful strokes from his hips driving you into the bark of the tree and his fingers plowing deep inside you had you practically screaming.

his lips found your neck and he left wet kisses there, his grains and growls only enhancing your feelings of ecstasy. he sounded like sin, and even though he was an elven boy that you had just stumbled across, you knew you didn’t want him to leave your life. you never wanted to live in a world where you couldn’t hear his moans, and that thought almost terrified you. the effect he was having on you was extremely intense, and you weren’t sure if it was normal, but at this point you were far too gone to care.

“are you gonna cum, kitty?” he strained out, breaking you out of your thought as his hips stuttered against your ass, his fingers still powerfully fucking into you. you could only nod desperately, your throat sore from the guttural sounds you were releasing.

he let out a breathy laugh, causing your walls to flutter around his digits. “then cum. I wanna feel you fucking drench my fingers.”

his words were all it took for you to let go. you screamed as you came, your nails scratching against the tree as your cheek scraped sharply on the bark, most likely drawing blood. your pussy clamped so hard around his fingers that he could barely move them in and out of you, so he drew circles over your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

his hips pressed tightly against you, and you could feel through your own pants the wet spot on the front of his, indicating that he had cum as well.

after a powerful minute of cumming, you felt your eyes droop in exhaustion almost immediately. jaemin withdrew his fingers from you, wiping your essence on his pants before grouping your waist to keep you from collapsing. you definitely would have fallen if it weren’t for his hold on you.

he gently lowered you to the ground, turning your body so your back was able to rest against the trunk. he wiped at the scratches on your cheek with his thumb, but even though it stung you didn’t have the energy to flinch.

“go to sleep, precious.” he said softly, still stroking your face lovingly. his gentle nature should have set off all of the alarms in your mind and body, but you didn’t have enough energy to care.

in the back of your mind you realized that you probably would never see your cat or your grandmother again, and that you would most likely be trapped in this forest with jaemin for the rest of your days on earth. you didn't want to think about it now, so you took his advice and allowed your eyes to close, dreaming of jaemin and nothing else.

maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

[ganymedesclock]

"Normal looking person has terrifying teeth. bonus points if they have an extending/splitting jaw or retractable teeth or something like that" this seems... oddly specific. how'd you find out you like this?

It was a long process starting at my middle school goth phase where tiny vampire fangs were neat, and then later I was like, "well, that's not very scary is it, it could be scarier" and that graduated to progressively bigger scary teeth until I realized that the average human jaw can only fit so much teeth in it, and then I saw the art of @deadwooddross and it cracked open some brave new frontiers regarding how people can look.

Really in general it seems more specific than it is, it's generally that I think horror mouth is a good concept-

(monkey brain says bared teeth bad? Social repulsion of hunger, humanity's own predatory instincts and the primal hunting behaviors that once fed us, and one need not look any further than modern diet culture to consider that man has a very precarious nature indeed with the hunger that has always defined us? something else entirely? the fine line between the alluring, desirable, or appealing mouth that might yield tender kisses or speak sweet words and the aforementioned primal nature and threat potential of mouths?)

-and then throughout my life, in both consuming and creating art, I'm trying to challenge myself to outgrow the mindset that for something to be good or likable or deserving of patience or attention in any way it has to be the least offensive, prettiest thing- so slapping a horrible unfolding bobbit worm mouth or a leering skull grimace or a great slobbery aperture on a human face is a good challenge to that regard.

Honestly, anon, I think your question is a good one! Like I said, when I first discovered Dross's art, I was really amazed at their monster designs and it got me frustrated with the level of monstrosity in my own art. I was left wondering how someone could come to such wonderfully gross, unsettling, specific concepts. It's been years since then, and I think I can confidently say it's all just a matter of practice and inspiration!

I know we can often think of creativity as something semi-divine, born from the void (or, jokingly, as some like to insinuate, affected by psychoactive substances) and nothing us mere mortals can change- but really it's a lot more of a practical skill. For me, challenging my assumptions and interrogating my thoughts does a lot of the legwork- the important other piece is that this engine of analysis is driven by new ideas being pumped in from the things I consume.

While this has nothing to do with teeth, I remember seeing- incidentally, in a gif, I've never watched the movie and don't really plan to- Moder, the bestial antagonist of a live-action horror movie called The Ritual. Moder is a beautiful monster; she has a really unique design evoking a moose, with a hidden but disconcertingly humanlike face and two dangling arms where her mouth should be. Seeing her in motion struck me all at once that I had never really seen, before then, an ungulate monster. Hoofed creatures are conceptualized with a sort of unthreatening banality; the docile cow, the sweet innocent deer, the sacred unicorn, the majestic but servile horse. Seldom do we get this sort of old-god megafauna feeling cut loose in such a creature, and yet, looking at Moder, why the fuck not? At a point in the movie itself she effortlessly overtakes one of the main characters at a run, her great powerful legs and thrashing hooves causing her to keep pace with him in a moment that seems profoundly effortless before she banks to the side and decides to end the chase.

To bring this back to "why teeth", I think that horror character design is really a case where you just gotta look to your idols, in life and in creative works! Find something that fucks you up, even and ESPECIALLY something that seems stupid, and then gently lie back somewhere comfortable and look at the ceiling, and entertain, "wouldn't it be fucked up if you met a person whose entire face was just a pleasant mask and when they actually ate something their whole head hinged upwards to reveal their real mouth, which is just a gaping, cavernous, tooth-riddled throat?"

And it doesn't necessarily have to be teeth. There's no rule of what's exceptionally scary. For me, I like teeth. Like thinking about them. There's something about teeth and savagery and decorum and speech and the complex dance between them that, at risk of sounding insufferable, is one of the endless interstitial crossroads that make humans human.

Another very dear inspiration of mine is the decorum and presentation of the skeksis from The Dark Crystal- they simultaneously scratch my itch for predatory sophonts whose intelligence doesn't completely cut their instincts and court dramas where the image of high society is used as a contrast to the brutal and often ugly, undignified nature of ambition, pettiness, greed and lust- and they don't just serve up both of those flavors but use them to enrich each other, so that we are watching these vicious hyena birds stalking around, all puffed-up in arrogance, using gilded nail-guard forks and toothpicks, while devouring a horrible vampiric gluttonous feast and snarling at each other as they pass too close like starving wolves about to tear each other to pieces.

So I guess that's the essential linchpin of why I like unfolding or distending mouths, because it also conveys that sort of quality about a character. If your mouth splits like a flower, to a horrible toothy construct useful for mauling and threshing..... it's not going to be very good for speech. Reining it in to a humanlike configuration is stifling, and suppresses the true nature of a very specialized meat grinder, but it allows you to relate to things as something other than threats and prey. A sort of literal and figurative, sympathetic and horrifying, two-faced nature. It also plays to a good old vampire classic, the "game face" where a creature who might look beguiling and beautiful reveals a nasty appetite and a dangerous side, in a very pulpy organic fashion- it's no glamour, it's just cheeks that can retreat and a jawbone that splits.

[kimageddon]

A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 52

Maul x OC | AO3: A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 1 Summary: Zaiya journeys to Lotho Minor to find her best friend and former master. Will he recognise her? Notes: We are now at a point where sadly, I have to go back to one chapter a week for a while (yes this post was a day late, sorry about that). I am still ahead enough that I can post regularly though, not to worry! The Q&A Special will be going up tomorrow I think, I answer some questions... and there is some fanart! My first ever fanart! If you have any questions for me, send them in asap and I shall include them! As always I love you, your comments, please please keep them coming. It really makes my week to see your comments when I wakeup and check my phone. It's cliche but you guys really are the ones to keep me going! I wouldn't have gotten to 50 chapters without you!

Signal - Part 2

It was the most agonising journey she had ever been on, even Jango seemed unsettled, and had to tell her multiple times to calm down. Anxiety only grew when he’d argued with the dealer on Tatooine, taking time she didn’t have to get her a ship. He had been kind enough to handle it, considering both of them were sure she would destroy everything in her path if someone decided to be a smartmouth. She and Jango had parted ways after that, with his demand to contact her when she reached Lotho Minor.

The moment her boots hit the dirt on the trash planet and she was off at a run. The winds of some sort of storm swirled around, she could barely see anything with her one good eye. But the nexus eye could tell her where she needed to go. Her hand clenched around the pendant tightly, her hearts racing in her chest. He was here… somewhere, she could feel the rage and pain permeating through the Force in waves. Though it did not give her an accurate location. Fires plumed smoke into the already obscured sky, filling the air with a horrible stench.

There was movement near her, something moving and quickly. Rushing toward her. Low, shifting. Slithering. The Nightsister was immediately on edge.

“Not often someone comes to this place willingly…” a croaky voice spoke above her. She looked up, her mask and hood in place, her eyes glowing in the dim light. The creature shifted through the refuse and peeked it’s large head and bulbous eyes over the twisted metal.

“Not everyone is looking for something, Anacondan.” She replied, meeting the creature's gaze. He looked startled upon meeting her eyes. “There was a call for me.” The Anacondan’s eyes narrowed.

“You tracking something special?” He rasped.

“I am.” Zaiya asked, a sense of urgency taking over her voice. The Anacondan drew back slightly as her green eye flared with magick.

“I’m Morely. I can help you find what you're after....” The wide mouthed creature grinned with its small sharp teeth. “...for the right price of course.”

“And what is to stop me from killing you now?” She asked, moving forward.

“Wait! You need a guide to avoid the fire-breathers!” Morley insisted, following her. She had seen the moving machines, creaking and spitting flames, tearing apart anything in their path.

“Yes, I have seen them.” She replied, snaking around the debris.

“They aren’t to be messed with if you know what’s good for you.” Morley grumbled, slithering beside her. “But there are other things here than junk--”

“I know.” She murmured through the mask, looking up to the smoky sky. “Tell me, about the one that called for me. The man of red and black.”

“Then… you’re the Siren.” Morley’s eyes widened before he turned swiftly. “Follow me.” He slithered forward and she could feel hesitation and anxiety in the creature, he didn’t want her there. She would have to be careful.

It was not long until they came to a mountain of literal garbage, the pile of twisted metal reaching high into the smoke. At the base was an opening, dark and seemingly endless.

“Down there…” Morley croaked, gesturing with his large head. Zaiya paused for a moment and looked him over, meeting his shifting eyes before turning away. She ducked her head and headed into the tunnel.

It led down. Down into the bowels of the planet. Immediately she could feel that the tunnels twisted and turned and went on for what seemed forever. She moved through them, some damp, others dry, all were uncomfortably hot. Some places she had to squeeze through and then there was a cavern she could have parked a ship in. The only light being a flickering flame, small yet casting hazy shifting shadows on the walls. The amulet pulsed, the force swirled around her, and she knew she would not find him soon at this rate. She had to focus. In the cavern, created of broken parts, forgotten things, debris, dirt and rock. She found a place on a flat piece of metal and took a seat, folding her legs beneath herself as she settled into a meditative position. With measured hands she lowered the hood and mask, she would not need them here.

She delved deep, into the Force that she knew, into the colours and music she felt in the air around her. Something she had not allowed herself to do properly for so long. There was the song she had sung for Feral and Savage, but this song that came to her was something else. New, unwritten until now, unspoken until her lips parted. The haunting echo of her voice and the music it stirred filled the space, travelling down the tunnels like a beacon. There, deep in the labyrinth of Lotho Minor, the Siren sang.

“Come and find me in the garden Down where we used to play Where memory is not a burden Where that sweet laugh will always stay

Come and find me in the castle Along the walls of rugged stone All our fears are universal They only reach us when we’re alone

Come and find me on the mountain Where we once reached to touch the sun Our tears flow like silver fountain And our hearts will beat as one

I have been here, always waiting This cold silence, I’ve been hating Lost in the memories I’m recreating So hard to hold, I fear they’re fading The monster inside is desecrating I’m no longer who I used to be…” Her eyes remained closed as the music faded away, her voice lingering in it’s last note. She could hear shifting, a soft ‘tick’ sound every now and again. He was here. Hiding in the dark. Right behind her.

----

The song had called him. Beckoned him closer like a flame in the dark… like the one small light in an endless dark that spoke of hope. Like… like a star in the night sky. He had found her, sitting, waiting, calling in his dark lair. Was this more torment? More dreams?

“Will you come into the light?” She spoke. Soft voice, musical voice, sweet voice.

“No light here… nothing but dark… rotten. Abandoned. Lost… Always Remember, I Am Fear! Always Remember, I Am Hunter! Always Remember, I Am Filth! Always Remember, I Am Nothing…!” He wanted more of the song, the song that banished the whispers, banished the words that tore at his heart and mind. She had to be a dream, another cruel trick… Sat there, still. Waiting. She reached out a hand and held it out before her.

“No longer abandoned, my sovereign… I am sorry it took so long…” His hearts raced. Was it true this time? Was it real?

“...not abandoned…?” He hissed. He moved his body around to look at her, fearful to draw too close. “I was lost… so lost… still lost… I --I can't…” She turned her head and he recoiled. “Don’t look at me!” he screamed, throwing himself into the shadows. Her head snapped around to the front and when she spoke again it was that same soothing voice.

“My master, you called for Siren… I am here.” Was she here? Was she really…? He moved again, closer, within arms reach. He moved, circling around her, shifting. A gasp escaped him. In the firelight burning in that place, he could see her face. More real, more defined than it had been in his memories. Less round, there was a hardness there, one that he recognised deep within. The hardness that only torment could put there. But it was her face. The markings over her eyes and full lips, the pale skin… and the dark scarring, reddish in colour across her left eye. He remembered seeing her struck. Seeing her fall. Had he screamed? Had he called her name? Sometimes he did in his nightmares. Other times he was struck soundless, frozen in place by a nameless terror.

“Is this real?” He leant closer. Her hand hovered out in front of her and he struggled not to take it. She still had her eyes closed.

“Yes, sire. It’s real.” There was a whimper, and he realised it came from his own mouth. He wanted to take her hand. Touch her… prove to himself it was real. Prove that it was not the whispers anymore. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was just another trick? Another lie? The whispers seemed quieter than they had been in a while… like that dream… “Can I look at you?” She asked in a whisper. His teeth grit. If she was real--

“Not like this…” He croaked, his throat raw and rough. “Don’t… want you to see…” Suddenly his hand brushed hers and he tensed, frozen in place. Her hands shifted and closed around his own. She was real… she was real! His chest tightened and his throat constricted, something akin to a sob escaped it as he sank lower to the ground, moving to rest his arms around her waist and his head in her lap. She was real… he didn’t want her to disappear again.

“I’m not afraid.” She told him and his breath hitched as her fingers trailed between his horns. He had not felt a gentle touch like this… so delicate, soft. A shudder ran up his spine.

“I am…” a hoarse whisper, he wasn’t even fully aware he’d spoken out loud until she asked.

“Of what?” He couldn’t lie… he wanted to lie… part of him told him to lie. To push away. Like he always did. But he couldn’t.

“...I am a monster…” He breathed.

“So am I.” He slowly raised his head to look at her, she was a monster too? After a moment her eyes opened, the endless blue… and swirling glowing green of her eyes met the wild bloodshot of his own. “You never need to hide from me, sire.” She spoke in a whisper, but there was a warmth in her eyes that he had not seen in anyone else.

The whispers were quiet, there was finally quiet, could he… could he finally rest? He laid his head back on her lap once more, clinging to the warmth that was not the rancid sticky heat of the fires. The call worked… he’d done it.

----

Zaiya looked at the zabrak clinging to her lap and hoped he could not feel the fear in her. Seeing him like this was… horrifying. That he had been forced to live like this, that he was in such a state. That he had been forced to become this. It hurt so badly in her chest that she wanted to weep. Her hearts broke to see it and she wanted to destroy everyone that had done this to him. Sidious stole him away, hid him for years, just to throw him away after one mission? One failure? And she had foolishly thought he could not get any cruller. Her hand carefully caressed over his shoulder and back, in an effort to soothe him. He was still whispering, she could barely hear it but she could see his lips moving. So long… so many years… had broken both of them. She closed her eyes, feeling a hot tear rolling down her cheek. She didn’t even know she could cry from her ruined eye anymore. She splayed her gloved fingers across his shoulder, the thin material catching on his skin. It was a comfort. He was here. He was alive at least. He had survived. They had both kept their promises.

She looked more carefully at the hulking metal that was the Prince’s lower half. Six spindly legs extended from a pod-like body… not unlike the spiders on Dathomir. The ones Talzin had her train her powers on so very long ago. She peered closer and realised with a gasp… no technician had made this body for him… but he had done it. Holding the parts together through the force! The swirling forces visible to her nexus eye now she was paying attention showed her just how much power he was using, even now just to keep himself alive.

He had wounds on his skin, some old, some new and one of the newer ones, on the back of his shoulder looked infected. She needed to get him to a medical facility, or at least a bacta tank, though-- she didn’t know how he would take it, considering her own distaste for such things.

How he had managed to survive this long, she had no idea, by all rights he should not be able to move, nor should he be moved. Was it safe for him on the ship? Was he well enough to travel?

“Sire… you’re wounded.” She murmured quietly, shifting to try and look at him. She’d never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so unsettled. She was unnerved to see him like this.

“Pain… lost… always…” He mumbled against her leg, she shifted to rest on her knees, his hands clung tighter to her waist, his fingers digging in painfully.

“Then we need to get you somewhere safe. Where I can treat your wounds.” She lifted her hand to the back of his neck gently, making small circles with her thumb. “I always swore I would protect you, didn’t I?” She murmured, leaning closer. “I won't leave you alone here. Let me take you somewhere safe.” She breathed, it broke her to see him like this. But she had to do something. “Come with me this time…” She urged.

He looked up, his expression worn and sad, he was fixated on her eye, his mouth open slightly as he took laboured breaths. He looked so exhausted. After a moment he nodded, slight but noticeable. A smile crossed her lips, a genuine one even if small. The Nightsister moved, rising as she took his hands. This time he listened, followed in a trance-like state, watching her intensely. She used the Force to guide her, walking backwards to keep her gaze on him, leading him up and out of the tunnels and back to her ship.

It was big enough for at least half a dozen people so could certainly hold him even though the spider half of him was oversized. She’d never seen him so hesitant before, or so frightened. She had to do what she could to help him.

“You found him…” Croaked the Anacondan beside her. Her gentle expression faded as just her gaze moved to look at him.

“Did you not think I would?” She asked flatly.

“My master has kept me alive--”

“And you did not think to do more for him? Instead you left him like this!” She hissed. The Zabrak’s hands tightened on her own as her face morphed into a scowl.

“I didn’t do this! I found him here! I brought him food and he let me have the leftovers…!” Morley grinned but Zaiya’s lip curled in a snarl, suddenly the man before her let out a cry, he rushed at the Anacondan so fast, shocking the both of them. Before Zaiya even knew what was happening, her master had pounced on the reptile and viciously tore him to shreds with his bare hands, right before her eyes.

“Master?” She gasped in shock. He froze, his back hunched. She reached out and gingerly touched his arm. After a moment he turned back to her, the blood of the creature across his hands and face. Her eyes widened.

“It… displeased you…” He hissed with a jittery glance, as though frightened she would punish him. Zaiya’s eyes widened, and her whole demeanor softened. As grotesque as it might be, she could only feel a warmth in her chest.

“Come, my liege, you need rest.” She took his hands once more, ignoring the blood on them to lead him onto the ship. She found herself wishing Sixy had accompanied him or was at least on the ship so it could pilot for her. She didn’t really want to leave him alone in the cargo hold, though didn’t think he would be able to fit in the small space. The doors began to close as soon as she tapped the button on the inside of the hold. His hulking form was strangely timid in this big empty space. “Will you let me treat you?” She asked, releasing one of his hands gently. His eyes shifted around the room, bloodshot, wide, like a caged animal. “I just need to grab my supplies, I will only be gone a moment.” His eyes snapped to hers and his grip on her hand tightened.

“Gone… lost… abandoned…” he mumbled.

“Just for a moment, I am not leaving the ship.” She assured, she turned and pointed at the doorway on the upper level. “Just in there. You can hear me.” She squeezed his hand, watching his face carefully. Eventually she backed away, his arm followed, outstretched by the time she let go as though frightened to release her. She moved swiftly, rushing to the med kit and the refresher for cloths and towels, filling a spare clean container with warm water. She knew she would need quite a bit of it… and lamented once more not picking up a droid to assist her. In the same thought… she didn’t want to let anyone else do this for him, she didn’t want him to feel ashamed of eyes looking upon his form. She returned to find him silently waiting, having raised himself up on his six legs to lean on the railing between the deck she was on and the cargo hold. One of his bare arms was wrapped around the rail, the other outstretched toward the door she had vanished through. He said nothing, just staring with those glowing yellow eyes. It was a little startling to see him waiting, staring so silently.

“I’m still here.” Zaiya assured him, carrying the small pile of items in one arm, the water container in the other hand. To make things easier, she used the Force to move the items to the lower level, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She took up a seat on a little crate. The metal of his legs tapped on the floor of the cargo hold, hesitant, curious, fearful. She took the washcloth and soaked it in the water, using it to slowly and carefully rinse the gore, ash and dirt from his skin, the vibrant red revitalised under the water. She peeled off her gloves after the first pass, and rolled up her sleeves. His now damp fingers reached out to touch the pale colour of her skin, the harsh contrast between them. She ran the cloth over his hands again, they were beautiful, his hands. The tattooed markings, long fingers, broad palms. She found herself fascinated by them, measuring her own smaller hand against his. It was a selfish gesture, one she quickly shook off, returning to run the rag over one arm, then the other. She was careful not to spill too much, there was still the occasional rivulet that ran down his chest or back. The water became muddy quickly and she had to change it out twice before using a fresh cloth and warm water to caress across his neck and further up, his jaw and his face. Being so close, she watched him swallow firmly as she reached the base of his horns. They were overgrown and one looked broken. She wondered if it hurt. His eyes were closed now, and he was surprisingly docile now. Perhaps it was the gentle touch or the soft tune she was humming while she worked? She didn’t know, but was not sure how long it would last when she had to tend to his infected wound.

She did notice something different that was not due to the planet he had been on however. Her hand rose to touch his left ear gently, toward the top near the edge, was a little silver stud. A grin began to grow on her lips.

“When did you get this…?” She asked softly, her fingers brushed the shell of his ear and he shuddered.

“After… after you were…” his eyes shifted and she noticed he was looking at something on her right shoulder. It took her a moment but she reached up to touch the feather resting there.

“This is from my brothers…” She explained. He reached out to touch it gently, then his hand moved to where hers was at his ear. She realised what he meant. They were the same. It was a reminder of… her? Her heart ached at the thought, did he mean that? Or was he confused? Her free hand squeezed his shoulder warmly.

She wasn’t sure how to tend to his mind however. There was only so much she could do to soothe whatever had been undone in him over the past few years. Kriff, she wasn’t sure whether she was even in a state of stability sometimes. It had only been a short time since she’d found her way back… the nightmares still haunted her sleep. Once the last of the dirt had been cleaned from his skin, she hummed gently, she wanted to hold him, assure him everything was going to be alright, that he was safe now… but there was more that needed to be done, and she didn’t even know if he remembered-- or wanted the same closeness they’d had before, however brief. It was not appropriate. Not here, not now. Perhaps never again. Either way she would not allow this feeling to jeopardise her tasks. She opened the medal kit, preparing the bacta shot and patches.

“This may hurt, my Lord, forgive me.” She spoke softly, “It should stop the infection.” With a quick motion, she pressed the end of the syringe into his neck near the vein. He let out a cry and jerked back from her, the expression of shock and betrayal on his face was heartbreaking. She squeezed his hand that he had not yet pulled away. She met his eyes and after a moment he seemed to focus, remember what she’d said, let the meanings of the words permeate what she could only imagine was a haze in his mind. She’d felt similarly when Hondo had dragged her onto his own ship. He reached up at the same time, and as her hand grasped the depressor, his large hand laid over hers. She ensured it had fully dispersed the bacta before pulling it away. He winced but remained silent.

“You’re doing so well.” She whispered, reaching around him to apply the bacta patch. His eyes widened as he gazed at her. She made sure to be as gentle as she could, even when she wrapped the bandage around him to keep the patch secure. “You’re the perfect patient, sire.” She smiled as she secured the bandage. He stared at her, not having spoken for almost the whole time they’d been on the ship. She now had to decide where to go. Kamino would be her first choice, but asking him to agree to partake in such an involved procedure, especially when he was not of sound mind… it was not an option. It would be taking advantage of him and robbing him of his right to choice. No, she would have to ensure he was fully aware of her suggestion before bringing him to Kamino. That left one choice. The only person she knew and could think of that could help with this.

Mother Talzin. Once, Zaiya would not have hesitated to bring the Prince home to his family, proudly accomplishing what she had set out to do all those years ago. Yet… something did not sit well in her chest. Anxiety swarmed around her. She no longer trusted her mentor.

The Zabrak drew her attention when he shifted, and she realised she still had her hands on his shoulders. She released him quickly.

“Apologies, my Lord.” She whispered. He made a sound akin to a whimper.

“You…” he began in a rasp, “...are…?” He looked down, as if searching for something. “Are… upset?” He tried, before looking back at her hesitantly. She blinked in confusion.

“Upset? Why would I be…?” She trailed off as he shifted.

“I can… feel…” Of course, he could sense it through the force.

“Oh… no, no sire not upset.” She assured. Her hand rested on his once more and he grasped it in both of his own. His yellow eyes lowered to her tattooed skin of her fingers. Did he think she was upset with him? “I was just thinking about how I can keep you safe.” He looked back up slowly.

“Safe?”

“Of course, I said I would protect you, didn’t I?” She smiled gently. She drew closer, her free hand shifting to the back of his head, her forehead tipped and pressed to his own, gently. “I promised.” She felt his hand rest gingerly on her hair, the softest of sighs escaped him.

“Yes…” He whispered, sounding more focused than he had the entire time she;d been in his presence. “You fulfilled your promise, Zaiya.”

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[dakotafoster]

Werewolf Bakugou x reader!! I’d like it if there was a lot of his wolf form!! Maybe the reader is a mage as well!! Perhaps there’s a war happening and they got separated in the midst of battle and one gets slightly injured. I know you said no gore. Sorry this is so all over the place!!

Thank you for requesting! This is my first request on this blog and I tried my best with this one-shot to meet it to your expectations so I hope you like it ♡ I went for a sort of forbidden fantasy love narrative if that’s alright.

ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ

ραιяιиg : werewolf! katsuki bakugou x fem! mage! reader

ɢɛռʀɛ : fluff, a tiny bit of angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : none

աօʀɖ ƈօʊռȶ : 4.2k

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 : Amidst a raging war between your fellow sorcerers and the Werewolves, you find yourself unexpectedly in love with their Alpha.

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

It was an absolute nightmare. It was not how you wanted to use the gifts you had been given, you didn’t want this. Your refused to use your grandmothers teaching of spells and magic for carnage and murder, you wanted to help and save, to nurture those who could not help themselves. You had been sent to fight a pointless war, driven by null excuses. Dragged and thrown into confrontation by your father and mother, who seemed to care little or not at all about your say in the matter. Everyone in your village, every sorcerer and mage believed that such beasts shouldn’t exist, that lycanthropy was nothing more than a demon’s stunt to lure you to Hell, going so far as to say their leader or Alpha was their term, was the embodiment of Lucifer himself.

You on the other hand, you thought that they were a misunderstood species. You wished to simply understand them, to perceive their culture and recognize them for who they truly are. Not based on some silly rumor to terrify children into being proper. You abandoned your family and left to start a life of your own, where you had the privilege to make your own choices. Though, nothing went according to plan. Third night of being in complete solitude, with nothing but the faint pale light of a full moon to keep you company, you had found yourself surrounded by beasts of the night. Ghouls and vampires alike, all frothing at the mouth like rabid animals.

You were sure you had met your maker, when out of the same obscurity appeared a small pack of wolves. Leaping from the wilderness both beautiful and utterly massive. Your saviors had either chased or mauled your captors, only when they turned to you snarling and barking you began to realize your relief was short-lived. At the head of the band, an enormous golden wolf with pearly grand canines and vibrant scarlet eyes. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at how bulky he was compared to the other wolves surrounding him, and how gorgeous he looked under the silver moon. His frame hunched as he gradually made his way toward you, lips pulled back with a thunderous snarl.

“W-Wait! Please!”

Your voice was hoarse with dehydration, your body shivered from the bitting cold and eyes swollen with how many tears you had shed throughout the whole night. You didn’t want to die like this, you refused to give up, even if you were far to frail to fight back. Your prayers must’ve been answered because before the blonde creature could pounce, a second voice boomed from afar.

“Bakugou wait.”

A crimson brute stepped around the blonde and stood in front of your trembling form. His audits pulled back in a pleading manner. Bakugou—was his name— was far from pleased.

“Move aside now Kirishima. Do not make me ask again. She’s a fucking wizard, she has to die.”

“Bakugou look at her, she’s dying. There’s no way she could cast a simple spell without killing herself. Spare her and let us help her.”

Bakugou sneered at his right hand man. Deep down he knew he had a valid reason, and when he peeked around his friends shoulder. You looked horrible, your clothes barely clinging to your rather boney frame, and you appeared to be severely malnourished. He couldn’t help but feel small pang of remorse just with a short glance.

“Please Bakugou, She needs help. Don’t be the monster they say you are. Prove them wrong.”

His scowl worsened, enraged by the Beta’s comment and his pack mates hostile and dissatisfied with the cardinal male. He jumped the at the male, puffing out his chest in a dominating manner and gave him a throaty growl. “You think I give a shit? Let them think what they want of me. Merciful or not, I’m doing it to protect you and the damn pack. My answer is final. No.” With a final snap of his jaws at Kirishima he turned his back on him, a deafening bark commanding the additional wolves to follow.

“No! I beg of you don’t leave! P-please..!”

The Alpha froze. Audits no longer dragged behind him in irritation but now rather set vertically upon his heavy cranium, clearly interested at the sound of your abused voice.

“I-I’ll help your pack. I can use my magic for harvest, livestock. I-I can heal your comrades! I’ll do anything! Just please... Don’t l-leave me to rot away here...” The other wolves became suddenly interested at your proposal, giving each other quick glimpses in question to whether or not you were trust worthy. Even so it was eerily silent with nothing but the weak chirps of crickets filling the void. For a moment everything seemed to freeze before Bakugou promptly padded toward your paltry physique, large paws mere centimeters from you when you felt his hot exhale on your cheeks. You gazed up at him locking into those bloody visionaries, pupils nothing but thin slits.

“Mark my words sorcerer. Attempt anything to harm me or my pack, and I’ll leave you to vampires to properly feast on. Do I make myself clear?” The emphasis he used on each word sent chills down your arms leaving you covered in goosebumps. You hastily nodded, receiving nothing but a firm grunt. Bakugou swiveled around once more and turned his attention to Kirishima, getting uncomfortably adjacent with his companion and repeating the same actions he had done with you.

“And you will be held accountable.”

Without so much as a second glance he sauntered away, his intimidating aura and the other wolves following along behind him. Kirishima assisted you as you climbed onto his woolly back and silently rested while you both made your way to what seemed to be a lions den. The clan was hostile and cruel towards you, you were certain that Bakugou would throw you to them like a damn bone once he was through with you.

You would have laughed if fate told you he would mark you as his mate and lover just weeks later.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Bakugou!”

You and Katsuki both bolted from slumber at the frantic yelp coming from outside the cozy teepee, small flickers of the flame lanterns shone through. You looked over at Bakugou who was adorned with nothing but coal cotton trousers, and you in a simple nightgown. He caught your gaze with tired yet alarmed optics, molding his large calloused palm into your slim silky hand tenderly. Giving your fingers a gentle squeeze he swiftly removed the fur blankets from his body and made his way to the the broad curtain and heaved it open. Revealing a bruised and evidently exhausted Kirishima, you and Katsuki gazed wide eyed at the male. It only took you a second to quickly scamper to your lovers side. Katsuki grabbed a hold of the red-head’s arm, who you now had the privilege to call a dear friend. “Kirishima? What the hell happened to you?”

“Bakugou... It’s the sorcerer’s village. They’ve come. Oh god Bakugou... They have killed so many of our own.”Kirishima wailed, heaving feeling as though his lungs would collapse any second. Your heart seemed to be running a marathon in your chest, terrified for what was to come between your former folk, your former family. Katsuki growled lowly, pivoting on his heel aggressively and stomping his way to seize his fiery red cloak. You sweat dropped with every action he took, you felt like bauling your eyes out when you came to the awareness of what Katsuki was going to do. He was making his past you before you roughly grasping his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

What a stupid question. You knew better than to be so simpleminded. You knew exactly what he was planning, but you wouldn’t let yourself believe it for even a second. The look he gave you said it all, it let you know that you were at the point where you could lose him. He was at his wits end with this war, and he was going to put an end to it once and for all. Even if it meant laying down his own life. You sobbed, squeezing his wrist impossibly tighter, praying that if you did he wouldn’t be able to leave, to leave you behind. Katsuki released a shaky sigh, he let himself incline down to your level and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. It was short, but by the way his eyes were clenched shut you could see he was resisting the urge to ravish himself in your beauty. He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flared when he turned away from you, lips tight lipped as he began to regain composure. He refused to meet your scrutiny, afraid that if he examine your beauty for a second longer he would have second thoughts.

“I love you (y/n). Please forgive me.”

“...What?”

He untangled his wrist from your sweaty palms, his once raging stare occupied with nothing but heartache and heavy sorrow. That all disappeared when he met Kirishima’s optics with a scowl and a stern nod. You trembled when you watched Katsuki clap his grip onto Kirishima’s shoulders, the former stumbling slightly at the impact.

“Take her as far away from here as you can, and if I don’t come back... You take care of my girl you hear me?” His profound voice trembled, and as soon he received a nod of affirmation from his friend he turned his back on him and you. Without so much as a sparing glance, and your heart dropped 50 feet below you.

“No! Katsuki no!”

You whimpered. You instantly made a run for your lover but before you get too far Kirishima grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled to back whilst you writhed in his arms, howling and sobbing after Katsuki.

“No! No! Let me go Kirishima! Let me go! Katsuki come back! KATSUKI! ”

Tears flowed your face without remorse, your throat ached as you screamed at the figure that disappeared into the trees, the silver beam of moonlight that broke through the tree line outlined powerful structure splendidly. Kirishima whimpered beside you, struggling to persevere in keeping you back as you howled and weeped after his friend. You eventually fell limp in his grasp, too weak to resist him any longer and only containing the energy to wail in agony. Kirishima’s knees wobbled, stifling his own cries he struggled to keep you upright and move. He failed. Falling to his knees all he could do now was mourn with you and whisper his apologies.

“Come.... We must leave before they get any closer.” Kirishima whispered after a few prolonged moments, his voice nasally and gruff. He carefully rose from his knees—which still trembled terribly— and grasped your elbows to assist you as well, but he froze when he saw he look on your face. An expression of renewed vigor and determination.

“(y/n)? What are yo—“

It was a plain graze to his bicep, but it was enough to send a sudden pulse through his body and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he fell limp. A simple sleeping spell you had learned at a young age, yet it’s effects last only 10 minutes before he would awaken.

“I’m sorry Kirishima. I refuse to run from this.” You scanned his unconscious form a moment, and made a mad dash into the trees in the direction you last saw Katsuki. The bare soles of your feet ached, sprinting over twigs and sharp rocks. You would only falter when you got deep enough into the forest in which you began to hear the howls and hollers of both man and wolf, occasional screams and yelps as well. You kept running until you found yourself in a large clearing at the mountain side, and just a couple meters ahead you could make out the shapes of some senior mages you knew and wolves who seemed to be outnumbering their foes quite drastically, but were at a disadvantage in terms of power.

Cautiously, you made your way around the commotion and squatting behind the thickets. you had been an apprentice under your grandmother to become a storm mage like her, but even if you knew some fairly powerful spells it wasn’t going to be enough to take on a handful of far more experienced sorcerers. Adrenaline flowing through your system, pounding about in your chest and head as you struggled to come up with a plan of action. Your legs throbbed but you couldn’t remain hidden forever, peered over the small sprigs and leaves to search for a specific golden canine.

It was moments before you finally spotted him, farther into the clearing he was evading the attacks of a elder mage. Large orbs of energy being thrown at the Alpha male proved futile when he practically sidestepped each one, and the sorcerer was growing quite frustrated and desperate. Katsuki was too occupied with the man in front of him he failed to noticed another approach him from behind, bright amber flames flickering across his palm and a devilish grin across his lips as he got increasingly closer to the Alpha. In a split-second you took one great leap from out of the vegetation and sprinted in his route, the adrenaline surges through your body so fast you could feel bile rise to your throat and the sailva thicken on your tongue. But not for a second did you hesistate, as you got closer you flexed your fingers, feeling a piercing heat spread from your fingertips to your forearms. Once you had gotten close enough you pounced and tackled the fire mage to the ground.

You both fumbled, twisting your body so you straddled the man and before he could counter you gripped his head between your hands and let an intense wave of electricity through your palms. The male in return shrieked, falling comatose in your grasp in mere seconds. You unfurled your fingers from his cranium, taking quick huffs and slowly standing to your feet. You gawked down at the mage, your muscles slightly sore and weak from the exertion.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

A booming growl broke your trance, pivoting on your heels to look at the wolf who marched toward you furiously, the elder sorcerer lay mutilated behind him. “You shouldn’t be here! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He snarled breathily, you appeared so frail in comparison to him, he towered over you even in his wolf form though he hunched over slightly to meet your (e/c) visionaries. You met his own crimson ones, completely livid. “You’re a fool if you really thought I’d let you turn your back on me like that. You’re a complete asshole!”

You pushed a finger to his woolly chest, your movements frantic as you hollered. Katsuki could only stand there dumbfounded, startled by your unexpected outburst. However he just wasn’t capable of resisting a smirk as you kept up your rambling about how selfish and moronic the ruffian was.

“Are you even listening to a single thing I’m saying Katsuki?” You finally ask and in response he unleashed a deep chuckle “Not a single word princess.” You growled and promptly pinched his blonde audit roughly which left Katsuki to jerk away from your grip with a small yelp. “What the fuck, you shitty woman?! The hell was the for? You know how much that shit hurts!”

You watched in amusement at such a dominant figure pussy away from a small nip, his ear now lopsided as he hopelessly to try and remove the stinging throb. You carefully amble toward him and seize his soft cheeks into your hands. “Because Katsuki, the fact that you sincerely thought you could just leave like that.. It breaks my heart. You do not get to abandon me once everything goes to shit, you chose me as your mate. I am not going to run, not from this and certainly not from you. Argue with me all you want, be a stubborn ass. I don’t care, I’m with you through it all.” You whisper, Katsuki huffed in defeat at your declaration and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Threading your digits through the wild tufts of fur. Katsuki emitted a heavy purr at the action, his eyelids fluttered close.

His lids flew back open and his nostrils flared. The faint aroma of an unreleaved individual left him stiff, on instinct he sunk his canines into your night gown and launched you to the side. In an instant, all too familiar splinters of ice striked Katsuki head on, his form colliding violently at the base of a tree. “Katsuki!” You hollered after him, appalled at the motionless bundle of blonde laying in the fields of grass. You didn’t have the time to check if he was still alive when a figure stepped from the shadows.

“Mother?” You gaped at the woman in front of you, her once calm nature gone. She glares at you like an absolute savage, her mouth agape in a silent scream and her hands covered in frost from the use of her magic. Your mind all but clear, frozen to any movement you begged to take so all you could do was speak. “Mother.” you repeated and curled your lip, never had you thought you could so much resentment toward someone who had once meant so much to you, that was until now. Her scowl intensified at this, sneering in disgust as she began to circle you.

“Your judgement has been tainted by that demon! That... Devil! You’re not my daughter. My daughter would never allow herself to manipulated by such a beast. Allow me to be so kind and put an end to your misery!”

Her palms aimed toward you, a slew of words spilled from her lips and another wave of ice raced towards you. You still couldn’t move, and even if you could the rate the icicles we’re reaching you wouldn’t be able to evade it in time. On impulse, you raised your own hands. The same heat and prickles coarsing through your veins, and with your own mumbled words an enormous discharge of lightning boomed through the ice, tearing it in half and send shards flying all around you. The bolt of lightning didn’t seem to cease in momentum, charging rapidly toward your mother. All she could do was watch as the powerful fulmination surged toward her, and with a final screech it striked devastating blow to her chest. She soared backwards, her body disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. You stood triumphant, but in a great deal of pain.

Your arms where left severely burned and a furious red, the dull pounding made your head spin. Though you ignored the aching and immediately sprinted to Katsuki’s unconscious frame, small crystals of ice clung to his fur on the side of impact. As you neared his body you just about cried when you heard the heavy breaths that left his mouth, labored and raspy but a clear indication that he was still alive. You maneuvered tourist his large cranium upon your lap and assessed the damage done to him. You reached out to caress his coated chest, around the location the ice rammed into him. Katsuki began to whimper in response and you quickly retracted your hand. You choked on your sobs as you stared at him, you were far too weak to perform any healing spells on him. Even if you tried you would kill yourself before you would even be able to mend a single bone in his body. With that the tears broke out like water from a dam, you had never felt so powerless in your life, so weak. You knew you could’ve done more to insure his saftey but you simply were not strong enough.

Loud and boisterous howls sounded off behind you almost in a cheering manner in the direction of the clearing. You smiled crookedly, turning back to the wolf in your lap you cupped his cheeks once again threaded your insensate digits gingerly through the blonde pelt. “Katsuki, wake up. They did it. We did it. Wake up so you can see! Please..” You pleaded in a whisper to the unconscious male, fruitless attempts to soothe him through his suffering. Your heart clenched painfully with every passing second “I’m sorry Katsuki.. I’m so sorry..” You sounded like a fucking child , you were crying hysterically as you continued to observe your love’s trembling and broken form.

Thunderous pounding resonated behind you, gradually getting closer and without hesitation you roared in the direction of the sound.

“Over here! Katsuki’s badly hurt!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”

His voice was as inticing as ever, his hand outstretched for you to take. You gave him a gentle smile and intertwined his fingers into yours, peering back to examine the three miniature silhouettes outlined by the candlight covered in pelt and wool blankets.

“They’ll be fine, they’re heavy sleepers.”

You snorted at this, rolled your eyes dramatically as Katsuki led out out of the comfortable teepee and into the woodlands. “I wonder where that got it from.” You squeezed his palm teasingly, Katsuki grumbled lowly in reply. He escorted you through the forest, the warm milky glow of the moon lighting the way. “Where are we going?” You finally asked, huddling into his side and nuzzling your cheek into his bicep . “Weren’t you ever told that patience is a virtue? We’re almost there.” He stated with a click of his tongue, his stride never stalled for a moment as he continued to lead you through the trees.

It was minutes when he then guided you through some brambles and bushes, and the sight you had been graced with was absolutely breathtaking. There you stood on a grassy cliff side by the sea, the ocean vast and wide. The waves boldly clapped against the boulders and stones below and wafted the briny aroma to your nostrils. You could almost taste the salt on your chapped lips, though that wasn’t even the best part. The Moon was the utter show-stopper. The Moon stood enormously in the sky, hovering just over the sea and seemed like a mere arm stretch away.

“Do you like it?” Katsuki broke your attention on the scene in front of you, tenderly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his firm chest. You found yourself so entranced with the view it was getting increasingly harder to focus on anything else. “It’s incredible Katsuki… I love it.” You murmured, tracing soft lines on the arms that trapped you and relaxing in his hold. He ran the tips of his calloused fingers up and down your hips “I’m glad. It’s called a Super Moon, it only happens every couple of years, and I’ve been planning to show you this for some time.” You cackled, giving a small pinch to the mucle on his right forearm. “Wow, I’m impressed Katsuki. Who knew you could be so romantic.” You could almost feel the blood rush to his face, a crimson tint decorating his handsome face. “Tch, shut up.. It’s just my way of saying thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?” You brows furrowed in confusion, you focused your regard onto the the smooth ripples of the water. You felt Katsuki rest his chin on your dome, his pecs expanding on your shoulder blade when he sighed. “For everything. For saving me my ass, for giving me a couple of rebels for kids, and for loving me despite my reputation. You gave me something to live and strive for, so thank you.”

You grinned from ear to ear at his confession, biting your lip to suppress the intensity of your love for him. “I suppose I should be thanking you too. You gave me something to live for as well.” Katsuki gave a heavy chortle, leaning down slightly to indulge himself in your neck. His fiery breath against your artery sent tremors down your spine, nose nudging vertically up your collar.

Times changed, people along with it. His arrival in your life was unexpected and yet fulfilling to a great extent. You found each other in a place where darkness resides in, and together you and Katsuki illuminated a future you had both been blind to. You felt as though your eyes had been opened to new side of life. Surrounded in clarity, fullness and most of all, the beauty in love.

So you both stood embraced on the cliff side bathing in the pure rays of the Moon, who seemed to shine brighter than the brother Sun. Blessing the sky with her divine presence and joining the stars that freckled the black sky, the navy ocean acting as a mirror, reflecting the Moon flawlessly. She was the mother of the night sky, a goddess watching over every beating heart, because she is always there, close to our earth to keep us company while she can.

“I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you too princess.”

.•° ✿ °•.

“ тнe мoon тeacнeѕ υѕ тнaт darĸneѕѕ can’т нιde тнe вeaυтy oғ lιғe, ιғ we ĸnow нow тo reғlecт тнaт вeaυтy. “

- ᴅᴇʙᴀsɪsʜ ᴍʀɪᴅʜᴀ

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

Tumblr really likes to test my patience (≧Д≦) I kept forgetting to save the draft and lost about 1,000 words each time, I honestly thought about deleting it out of frustration. That and I’m not really that proud with how it turned out. But here it is! Thank you for reading and requesting. You are more than welcome to leave feedback on my works. ♡

- 𝖑𝖎𝖟 ☾ ✩

𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 : (𝟔/𝟐𝟑/𝟐𝟎 - 𝟕:𝟓𝟖 𝐩.𝐦.)

[minchen0897]

Cold (derogatory) and a Cat

My Secret Santa entry from the Discord Server for @madecunningly I hope you like it!!! Happy holidays!!

Starring: Quinlan Vos, a Cold planet, and Maul

Quinlan had been on this planet for about three Coruscant standard weeks, trying to look into a lead on one or several of the Sith – because apparently the Rule of Two had been put into a dumpster and then used as an illegal bonfire – and he was seriously considering a vacation on Tatooine.

Or to set himself on fire.

Forget the sand or the pain or whatever, at least it would be warm.

He was bundled in five layers of warm clothes, one of the layers being actual thermals, and he still was shivering all day long. Even while he used every trick in the book to keep warm.

(Admittedly, rubbing his hands did not help much when he was wearing thick gloves to protect them.)

He even put on a local cream to keep his face from freezing, but it was still cold.

Yesterday he had very nearly broken a good hand-width of his dreadlocks off, because there had been an accident with a fluid that he does not want to talk about and had indeed forgotten about in the chase that followed, until he had to return to his humble temporary abode for the night to avoid freezing to death. His hair had clinked like icicles clacking against each other when he had moved his head a bit too fast (he thought he had heard something, which probably was also his frozen hair), and curious where the sound came from repeated the motion, nearly breaking off his hair.

Not that it would have mattered much, it’s just hair, but the point he was trying to make is that it was too kriffin cold.

(He also objected to sleeves on a deep personal level, so this really wasn’t his preferred weather, but alas, a Jedi went where a Jedi must go.)

He couldn’t even use the Force to warm himself up, for several reasons: he was on the trail of someone potentially connected to the Sith or a Sith themself, so extreme caution was advised – nobody wants the Sith to go further into hiding then they already were. So low profile it was, and someone on this warmth-forsaken planet not freezing their shebs off was very suspicious. Even the natives were shivering. He also was still feeling the aftereffects of a concussion he had gotten in an unfortunate accident he did not want to go into any further.

It was nothing too bad but trying more finicky things with the Force did not make his head happy.

(People who got concussions often apparently were prone to headaches and migraines. Sometimes Quinlan really, honestly had a deep worry for Obi-wan. That man could take care of himself – although he actually seemed to suck at it – had an uncanny ability to survive everything the galaxy threw at him, but…still.)

In any case, to keep the spiral of mental commentary from spinning out of control, it was fucking cold, Quinlan did not like that, and he was so far not getting anywhere with his supposed lead.

He took a deep breath – or as deep as he could without feeling his lungs were freezing, even while breathing through a scarf and all – and carefully released his frustration and discontent into the Force. They would not help and rather cloud his decisions, anyway.

Somewhere in the distance Quinlan could hear people singing. As far as he knew it was a way to celebrate together before the White Wall hit and everyone would be confined to their homes for at least a week. Historically, before technology got better, it was one last big party before they would leave the other members of their community to whatever the White Wall had held in stock for them. Sort of like one last hurrah before potentially facing down the end. Or at the very least facing separation for a while without means of checking in with their loved ones – as was usual, those who were obscenely rich and could afford the according technology were the exception to this.

The White Wall was not a snowstorm per se, although unsuspecting strangers tended to refer to it as that. It looked in fact rather innocent, simple snow clouds, on most planets not any more harmful than simple rainclouds that brought the rain and then moved on.

But alas, on this particular planet, these particular snow clouds gathered and then brought snowfall for at least a week, without moving on, and it was a regular occurrence that everyone was snowed in by meters of the frozen water posing as innocent little white crystals. It was an interesting weather phenomenon, and also dangerous for uninformed sentients. Which were exceedingly rare because in modern times everyone got warned, so generally there was not too much danger anymore. Those who hosted guests stocked up generously on anything essential that might be needed. So today there was nobody really in danger of freezing to death due to the abundance of snow the White Wall brought. (Quinlan had opinions on that, and most of them were objections to this statement, because he was still freaking cold, but that was probably his frustration speaking.)

The tradition to meet up before the White Wall hit and celebrate with songs and dance and good food and also this one special drink they made for the occasion had stayed and was probably one of the most famous things this planet had to offer, right up there with the weather phenomenon that was the reason for the celebration in the first place.

He turned around a corner, intent to get back to the small inn he stayed at and found himself almost immediately hissed at.

There was a cat. Very fluffy. All that fur probably was needed in this cold. Desperately so, because despite all the fur it still appeared to be shivering.

It also, under all the anger it spouted in the Force, felt quite miserable.

Quinlan felt for the creature.

He knelt and sent gentle waves of calmness at the cat. “Today is just not a good day, isn’t it?”

He would have said horrible, but that would have probably been his frustration talking.

The cat continued hissing, as Quinlan settled down against the wall of a building close to it. Not that the hissing really bothered Quinlan. He steadily continued with exuding calmness. It worried him a bit that despite the hissing and general everything of the cat, it had not moved. Neither to attack nor to run away. Odd.

Maybe the cat couldn’t run? Being hurt would explain why it was so angry and miserable. He had seen a vet clinic only a few blocks over that had open still and could at least check the cat for injuries.

“You don’t look so good,” Quinlan looked at the cat that had stopped hissing quite so loudly. He was not quite sure why he was talking to a cat, but there had been stranger things happening in this galaxy than this. The Force seemed to be supportive and anticipating something.

“How about I bring you to the vet – there is a clinic not too far away – and you get checked out for injuries. And maybe we can find a place for you to stay? The weather forecast said the White Wall would hit tonight, and honestly, nobody deserves to be out in this cold.”

The cat looked a little bit like it wanted to make a face between straight up murder and questioning Quinlan’s sanity. It felt a bit rude that a cat was looking at him like this.

“Come on, inside a house it’s definitely warmer than outside, that has to be a convincing argument.”

The cat took its time, but it got less hissy gradually. Still not in the best of moods – which was perfectly understandable, in Quinlan’s opinion – but the calming presence Quinlan tried his best to exude seemed to do its job.

Once he was sure the cat would not attack him immediately with the intent to kill Quinlan carefully gathered the cat into his arms and began making his way to the vet. The cat was predictably very unhappy, but suprisingly it was not struggling too much. Mostly because moving seemed to hurt it somewhat, Quinlan thought.

The vet, while still open, was running on minimum staff. There was only one vet and one assistant currently on hand; their colleagues had already gone to the celebrations. The two in attendance had, from the looks of it, drawn the short sticks and had been assigned the duty during the following week – or weeks, depending on how much and how long snow would fall – to care for long-term patients or animals that had been brought here because the owners couldn’t take care of them during this time.

Basically, they had to pull double duty in the veterinarian clinic and the animal shelter that apparently was part of it.

Quinlan did not envy them their jobs.

Especially not once the cat seemed to regain some energy and made valiant attempts at scratching the vet and their assistant to death during the health exam. Not that they were bothered by it; they made jokes about thick skin and that was the extent of their reactions to it.

It turned out the cat – actually a male specimen, apparently – was perfectly fine health-wise. Cold and exhausted, but nothing rest and warmth won’t fix.

The assistant rang him up after the exam was over.

“That would make 15 Credits – the fee for our services. Oh! Before I forget about it – will you take him home with you? Or do you want us to keep him here?”

The cat stared at the assistant, ready to take their eyes out.

“I’ll take him home with me, no problem,” Quinlan said. He had a feeling if he left the cat here he would actually commit murder. Aside from that, the vet had said – after Quinlan asked, because small talk was a thing – that the shelter was filled to the brim. And he wouldn’t really have to worry about feeding the cat. His temporary neighbour two rooms from his own rented one had brought two tookas with them, so there would be some kibble available for sure. And if needs really must, he could always share his own food, he supposed. “Thank you for all your help.”

“No problem. It is literally our job,” the assistant chuckled good naturedly. “However, I think you should hurry. It looks like the snow is coming down soon, and nobody wants to be outside when the White Wall hits town.”

The assistant had a good point there. He had a good sense for orientation and the Force to boot, but he honestly didn’t want to be outside still when the snow really came down. There are dares and then there is being an idiot. He very firmly counted himself among the former section.

He said his good-byes, cat under his arm, and made his way back to the inn.

This was really not how he had thought his visit on this planet would go.

-_-_-

Darth Maul, Sith Apprentice and a Lord in his own right, had at one point come to the conclusion that his life sucked.

His life up to his defeat at the hands of Kenobi and subsequent half-existence spoke for that in and of itself.

It was only due to his stubbornness (his desperation, his clinging to life, not that he called it that, because it smelled of weakness he refused to have) and hate for Kenobi that he managed to survive the following years. Admittedly, he had used the Dark Side as a crutch, an aid to his continued survival. Not that his then-Master had allowed him to learn these arts, but when has not being allowed something ever stopped him?

In any case, with everything gone, the whispers and promises of the Dark Side had been constant. Had been there, had not left. Had fed from his anger, made him stronger in return, let him survive in return.

For ten years the Dark Side’s whispers and his own tinkering to gain a lower body-half again where the only noises he took note of.

Then he learned that Count Dooku, that absolute snob, had replaced him, that his master had simply thrown him away (he refused to acknowledge that the actions – or lack thereof – of his former Master had hurt) and Maul swore revenge. On Kenobi, for defeating him; on Dooku for taking his place; on his Master for casting him off like one might throw away a broken toy.

They would pay. All of them.

He had survived, and then he plotted.

Kenobi had to die, and he would do it himself – no matter the cost. Every time the place where his body met the prosthetic cramped, making Maul remember the fresh wound with a shadow of the pain he had lived through, he was reaffirmed in this.

Dooku had to die too. And it had to be humiliating. He had vague memories of other Zabraks, who had been…close…to Maul. He could use their power. Take them from Dathomir. Leave chaos in their wake, as the damned witches on that Force-forsaken planet had given him away like a slave that he had been. (It felt like betrayal – another thought Maul did not want to recognize in himself, unsure were following it would lead, which felt suspiciously weak, and he refused to be that.)

The witches would suffer for what they had done.

It had the added bonus of at least indebting the other Zabraks to him, as he would free them from the Witches.

Once they were on his side, he would train them, and train them well. It would take time, but he had time. He could be patient. (It felt like hunting – another vague memory from the life before he had been given to his Master.)

Besides, it was not like he had nothing to do while training them. He could study the material he would take from the witches, use their Magick to his advantage – as he knew for certain that Palpatine never had an interest in learning Dathomirian Magick, seeing it as beneath him. It would be an ace up his sleeve.

He could also go to other Sith Temples. Learn. Teach. Biding his time.

He had heard Dooku had a thing for rare artifacts, so if he found one it was a possible lure for his replacement.

As for his former Master – death for him was inevitable. Palpatine had not shared all his plans for the Empire he wanted to build – but that he wanted to build one was certain. He had already started with his plans; in fact, one of the early stages had been becoming the Supreme Chancellor.

Knowing about the Empire was enough for Maul to decide where he wanted to begin his revenge against Palpatine.

Every Government can be undermined.

And Palpatine would grasp at straws, and fail to do so rather pathetically, when Maul pulled the Empire away from underneath his feet. Or shattered it into million pieces. He was not sure yet.

Regardless, when Palpatine would see his Empire crumble right in front of his eyes, Maul would strike, and end the wretched life of the wrinkled bastard.

Or maybe torture him first and then end him. He had not quite decided on his primary plan quite yet.

Point was, he had a plan with backup plans regarding Palpatine’s end, and the majority of them involved him building up his own underground empire. (Name still pending.)

And to that extent he visited this damned planet (honestly who would want to live here, it’s too cold) that brought him back to his suffering, because he needed contacts.

And the contacts were not actually the problem. The problem was that he had grown curious when he noticed a Force Artifact in one abandoned building – a ruin, really – far outside any settlement.

So he went to investigate. The Dark Side whispered promises still, but there was something else that spoke of anticipation – good or bad Maul couldn’t tell.

The artifact turned out to be some strange metal, nothing he could identify on the spot, formed like a claw. There were ancient texts, or at least they looked ancient, written all over the cellar room he had found the claw in – both room and claw hidden away behind traps that were almost too easy for him.

He had been too focused on his little hunt in the ruin to notice it right away, but the thing speaking of anticipation had grown and smothered the Dark Side’s whispers into nothingness. In hindsight that had been a glaring sign something was about to go wrong.

But he didn’t notice, and now he paid for it.

Because the moment he touched the claw, he lost consciousness, and once he woke up again still in the cellar, he was a kriffing cat, and the claw was nowhere to be found.

And, because the universe hated him, the ruins had started to rumble ominously, little pieces of rock falling from the ceiling in a clear sign that he should get out of there as fast as possible.

Which he did, of course.

It simply turned out that the traps that had seemed almost too easy for him before were significantly harder to circumvent. Especially when he had not even heard the tiniest slip of a whisper from the dark side, only felt that anticipating something hovering absolutely everywhere, which was somewhat interesting, but also absolutely useless. (He was not a fan.)

Also it turned out the bonus of having non-metal legs (because that was a thing, as a cat he apparently had four functioning flesh limbs) was actually not that much of a bonus at all when weighed against opposable thumbs and said metal legs not needing muscle stamina to run.

Outside the ruins he watched as any option to figure out what was the power behind the claw – and it had to be some power in cooperation with the claw, nothing else would make sense – literally crumbled to the ground, and quickly was covered in snow.

There was, he thought furiously, very little chance of finding the ruins again after the White Wall hit.

So as anyone sensible who also happened to have received some form of training in the powers he had, tried to lift a few rocks off where he suspected the cellar had been. (Apparently, his room orientation was now also shot on accord of being a karking cat.)

Nothing moved.

Maul let out a furious yowl.

Whoever was responsible for this dilemma would pay, he would make sure of it. As soon as he found out who it was anyway. Until then his rage would carry him forwards, as it always did.

He found it disconcerting that no whispers from the Dark Side, no promises, reached his ears after this vow. Only the anticipating silence from the Something Else. It was almost eery.

He paced in the snow for a bit. (Unsurprisingly it was cold.)

He was a cat, had no thumbs, and basically no strength – neither in body nor in the Dark Side – when compared to his actual body.

There was simply no chance of him digging the cellar out. Not without his full set of power.

He cursed and got furious when he only heard himself hissing and yowling. Very angrily, admittedly, but it was just not the same. It simply made him angrier, but without the added benefit of more whispers and promises from the Dark Side.

Which, again, was usually always present and was now suspiciously absent.

Without another option in sight, and unwilling to die in the White Wall, Maul had made his way back to the nearest town.

Which, very frustratingly, had taken an eternity. It had also been miserable because in the midst of his way back it had started to snow, and he was pretty sure he had run in a circle before getting his orientation back.

He had cowered in an alley and made the very first being suffer with his claws (neat) that came too close.

Then the lack of stamina in this useless (aside from the claws) body had made his muscles cramp and he had been reduced to hissing and yowling curses at everyone that came too close.

A few beings tried, but while they didn’t understand his words, at least they got the gist of his message.

Until a Jedi walked into his alley. Because of course there was a Jedi present on this planet, in this town, walking into his alley. He was easily noticeable as a Jedi because the anticipatory something from everywhere seemed to give this person something like a hug.

Strange concept.

And then the Jedi had the audacity to not only ignore his threats and come closer but also sit down next to him.

That absolute bastard would meet a harrowing death at either his hands or his claws. Blood would spill. He would shred the Jedi’s clothes, scratch at their skin until the liquid of their veins-

The Jedi was warm.

The Jedi was warm?

The anticipatory something from before had become smug (rude) and mixed with the something surrounding the Jedi, who then seemed to make the something into – well Maul would guess the equivalent of a warm blanket.

It was one of the stranger things Maul had felt. He knew similar things from the Dark Side, had used it to intimidate people in a bar once because he wanted a booth for himself and they were in the way, so he had sent them cowering.

But this was new. Startling. Strange. But not bad?

How very weird. (But also comfortable.)

The Jedi made a few good points about not freezing to death outside once the White Wall hit, but still, the audacity to simply pick him up and bring him to a vet!

He blamed it on his still cramping muscles that he did not eviscerate the Jedi on the spot. (Never mind that his muscles were somewhat useable once more.)

The vet claimed everything to be alright with him, which, no, he was kriffin cold, this planet was horrible, and also he was a cat and not a Zabrak as he originally should be, but before he could claw the vet’s – or his assistant’s, he wasn’t picky – eyes out, the Jedi had bundled him up and they had left.

He would have to enact rage later.

To his great surprise the Jedi did indeed take him with them to the place they were apparently staying at, and did not randomly drop him in a dumpster.

Maul refused to feel grateful for it. He did not want to think about his success regarding this decision.

Instead, just to spite the Jedi, he aimed to be as much of a menace as he could be without access to his full abilities. For the next few days furniture got scratched up. The Jedi’s food was eaten or made inedible by him. Fur was shed excessively.

The Jedi cursed regularly at him, but never raised a hand. An interesting change to his usual experience with other Users of the Force. Usually there was always violence involved when he met with any of them, be it his former Master or another Jedi.

Not that he wanted to be fair, but the reason behind it might be that in the Jedi’s eyes he was a simple cat.

The thought disgusted him somewhat, as he was not merely a cat. He was more than that but communicating that was hard when he had no thumbs and could only do cat things and noises. He was stuck at angry hissing.

Then, one evening, the Jedi made the grave mistake of leaving their cup of tea on the counter while they went to the ‘fresher. Maul saw a chance and took it.

He sat next to the cup on the counter and waited until the Jedi returned, established eye contact, and pawed the cup over the edge. It fractured into tiny, sharp shards. The ground was covered in rapidly cooling tea.

The Jedi began cursing.

Maul’s work was done, so he leapt from the counter.

Or intended to, because the Jedi – for once without gloves because they had indeed taken a shower – caught him mid-leap with their hands.

“Careful you kriffin menace, there are shards every…where…“ the Jedi petered off into silence.

The something – which Maul assumed could only be the Force the Jedi preferred to use – around the Jedi was thrumming with activity.

And thus Maul hung suspended in the air by two hands for a while.

He didn’t even struggle to get out of the hold. He blamed being distracted by the interesting patterns the Force of the Jedi drew and sung in equal measures.

The eyes of the Jedi were staring unblinking at nothing right above Mauls head, right until they weren’t anymore and instead snapped into focussing right on Maul.

“Fucking shit.”

Well, that was eloquent. Not. But it summarized Mauls situation quite neatly.

“You’re Maul.”

Maul tried his best to frown at the Jedi, but alas, being a cat crossed his plans once more.

“Why are you a cat? No actually, how the fuck are you still alive? We thought you were dead!”

Maul hissed. It was not his fault that Kenobi was incompetent.

“Holy shit, you’re a cat.”

Now he began to struggle in earnest. While the Jedi seemed flabbergasted still, it was only a question of when that would change, and as soon as the Jedi stopped being…shocked, he guessed, they would try to catch him and ‘bring him to justice’ or something ridiculous, and Maul did not want to make that easy for them by simply hanging in their grip like a wet towel.

“No, hold on, wait, I’m not going to murder you! But I could use your help.”

If he could snort derisively, Maul would. Yeah, right. A Jedi wanted his help.

“Okay I know this sounds ridiculous, but – well. I. Uhm. I saw that you have plans for your former Master, which largely end with him being dead, and I want to support that goal.”

Sounded fake but he would hear the Jedi out. For now. Maybe he could get good connections out of this.

“Okay, so hear me out – wait, no, name first, I’m Quinlan. Now hear me out. We’re kinda getting desperate here. The war is going on and on, our men are dying by droves despite our best attempts otherwise, the Jedi are dying equally as fast – not that that interests you, you’re probably happy about that,” Maul was actually not quite sure if he was happy about it, or if he had apathy about it, or if it was more convenience than anything else if it actually was convenience, but that’s nothing he wanted to spend thoughts on, “and we hope that finding the Sith Lord, the Sith Master, and ending them will end the war and spare many people from dying.”

A valid reason for a Jedi he supposed. Now the Jedi – Quinlan – only needed to get to the point.

“You were the Sith Master’s Apprentice. You could tell us about them. What you know about their plans. Which would, in turn, ruin those plans because we – the Jedi – would do our best to stop them. It would align with your goal of making your former Master miserable. I would have to speak to the council but maybe you can be directly involved too, enact your revenge more directly.”

At that Maul clawed at Quinlan’s bare arms, because he was still a cat, and he could not take revenge on Sidious as a cat.

Quinlan flinched satisfyingly.

“Here’s where my counteroffer comes in,” he continues despite the scratches and while still holding Maul up. “The Archives of the Jedi Order are large and filled with knowledge. You would have access to it and I would offer my help to reverse whatever made you into a cat.”

Maul stared at Quinlan.

Quinlan stared back.

“If you are entirely against this deal shake your head, if you are willing to talk details, I don’t know, hiss at me or something.”

Maul stared.

Quinlan frowned.

“Yeah, okay, maybe talk was the wrong verb to use there.” He hummed in thought. “I think I saw an external keyboard for a terminal somewhere in this place. It had a weird layout, but you should be able to type something when I hook it up to my pad.”

Maul stared.

Quinlan stared.

“So?”

Maul hissed.

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Sundance 2021: Day 3

Films: 4 Best Film of the Day(s): Cryptozoo

Playing With Sharks: Valerie Taylor and her late husband Ron were pioneering shark conservationists for the last four decades, paving the way for protected marine parks in Australia and helping to create a different perception of sharks. As Sally Aitken’s doc on Valerie’s life and times suggests, however, the Taylors were also paying something of a penance: First, for all the spearfishing they had done in their teens and 20s (Ron was a world champion); later, for playing a significant role in helping Jaws achieve some of its underwater shark scenes. As a result of that film’s supernova success, sharks became one of the most egregiously hunted species in the world for decades (one conservationist in the film explains that after 100 million sharks were killed for twenty years  —  a result of macho big game hunting, yes, but far much more for their lucrative fins, which go on to make the soup considered a delicacy in China  —  only 10% of the world shark population still exists), leaving the Taylor’s favorite filming subject in dire peril. Aitken’s film, loaded with wondrous footage  —  a benefit of Valerie’s being in the public eye, and working as marine oceanographers for most of their lives  —  charts the evolution of Valerie’s relationship with the animals in the sea, and displays her fearless brand of adventuring along the way (Ron dubbed her “Give it a Go Valerie” for her willingness to put her life on the line). Now 85, we also watch her travel to Fiji for a dive amongst a newly replenished population of bull sharks, aided greatly by her, and other conservationist organizations, working to end the shark genocide. For this Jaws aficionado  —  an animal advocate myself, like the Taylors, I have to acknowledge the harm the film did to marine ecology in my devotion  —  watching the couple film their notable live shark scenes in Spielberg’s monster movie opus was a thrill, but watching the couple’s dedication to their cause in subsequent years is far more significant.

On the Count of Three: It seems like a great idea to start a film with a pair of best friends holding up guns to each other’s heads in a suicide pact, only to go into extended flashback and retrace what led to this moment right before they pull the trigger, but that’s precisely where things begin to go awry for screenwriters Ryan Welch and Ari Katcher. In comedian Jerrod Carmichael’s feature debut, the two friends, Kevin (Christopher Abbott), and Val (Carmichael) have a long history of helping each other through their respective childhood traumas  —  Kevin was abused by one of his therapists; Val had a physically abusive father  —  so they mean to come to this moment in a sort of full-circle act of final friendship, but then various sillinesses intervene to extend the day into a series of escalating incidents until finally things go too far to simply go back as they were. A cross between an unrealized dark comedy (much humor is derived from Kevin’s “horrible” taste in music, including a far too on-the-nose track from Papa Roach concerning actual suicide), and unbelievable drama (driving around in a bright yellow jeep, with Kevin wearing practically a technicolor dreamcoat, it’s impossible that the pair wouldn’t have been arrested almost immediately), the film gets decent mileage out of its pair of leads, who share a solid rapport, but never seems to find its footing enough to make much of an impact otherwise.

Cryptozoo: In his zoom video intro to the film, writer/director Dash Shaw appears through a kaleidoscope filter, a fitting visual enhancement for the trippy animated film he’s created. Painstakingly hand-drawing the cells, which gives the film a much less fluid but appreciably personalized appearance, he’s crafted an engaging story about cryptids  —  mythical creatures, from gorgons, manticores, and chimeras, to unicorns, pegasuses, and a baku  —  being kept by a kindly woman (voice of Grace Zabriske) in a secret park in order to keep them safe from outside forces. Tracking down the creatures from opposing sides are Lauren (Lake Bell), a fiercely determined woman, whose childhood was saved by a nightmare-eating baku when she was a child; and an evil-minded capitalist (voice of Jason Schwartzman), who has a mind to sell the creatures to the military. Trippy it most certainly is, but the story remains solidly coherent  —  imagine a kind of Jurassic Park but with a kraken, and a lot more peculiar nudity  —  which keeps it beguilingly grounded, despite its fantastical imagery and thematics. As an analogy for how it is mankind has lost all instinct and contact with the magical realm  —  well, beyond the MCU, and LOTR, and all the movie series that have made billions of dollars on the idea  —  but, also, a treatise on what happens when even our best intentions turn out to be misguided.

Eight For Silver: Sean Ellis’ werewolf movie tarts itself up a bit with 19th century gothic imagery and a steady atmospheric gloom, but the script, which Ellis also wrote, can’t escape most of the worst cliches of the genre, and its earnestness alone can’t keep it from being pretty insipid. Alistair Petrie plays a wealthy landowner named Seamus Laurent. When a group of Roma come to settle on his land, which they (rightfully, it turns out) claim as their own, he and the other nearby landowners pay a posse of mercenaries to eviscerate them as cruelly as possible. As a result, Seamus and his family, wife, Isabelle (Kelly Reilly), daughter, Charlotte (Amelia Crouch), and son, Edward (Max Mackintosh) are put under an ancient curse. Many predictable things happen from there involving a pair of silver, canine-like teeth, innocent people being gored by some mysterious creature, and lots of arterial sprays of blood (Ellis seems to have a penchant for them, as well as for severed limbs  —  I lost count of how many hands and feet were forcibly removed from their trunks). When a pathologist (Boyd Holbrook) comes to investigate, he puts all the pieces together, but not enough of the landed gentry listen to him in time to save themselves from their appointed maulings. Shot in the French countryside, the film has a grand palette with which to work, but too much time is spent establishing things that seem perfectly obvious, and the script is riddled with peculiar anachronisms (“Me, neither,” one character says in response to someone being unable to sleep) that keep throwing off its calculations. It’s trying hard, but simply isn’t made carefully enough, or with enough originality, to have it rise above its B-movie sort of station.

Sundance goes mostly virtual for this year’s edition, sparing filmgoers the altitude, long waits, standing lines, and panicked eating binges  —  but also, these things and more that make the festival so damn endearing. In any event, Sundance via living room is still a hell of a lot better than no Sundance. A daily report.

[razieltwelve]

First 7 Win Draft! (MTG Arena)

In Magic: The Gathering, I’ve generally been better at constructed than draft. However, with the way MTG Arena is structured, getting better at draft was something I wanted to do.

So, over the past couple of months, I’ve been saving coins and even using gems to do drafts to try to improve. The first month was pretty awful. I’m not going to lie. The fact that I was also rare-drafting to help fill out my collection didn’t help either. It was also a way of mitigating my losses since I tended to be awful, so at least I’d walk away with some rare cards even if I bombed out. And there were most definitely drafts where I bombed out.

But I kept at it, and I started studying more. I read draft guides; I looked at tier lists; I practiced on Draftsim; and I watched a lot of more skilled drafters in action. I found the videos by Nizzahon Magic to be especially useful since he talks a lot about why he drafts the things he does or makes the plays he does, and I felt we had a similar approach to the game in general.

I also had to get used to the different rhythm of draft. When you’re playing constructed, just killing everything is an option because you can build a deck with enough removal to do that. In draft, you’ll basically never have more than a few pieces of removal, so you have to use them sparingly. Likewise, your threat density in draft is so much thinner than in constructed, so you have to be much more aware of how you manage your creatures. That 2/1 or 1/3 isn’t something you can throw away, and you’ve got to really shepherd your fliers and other evasion critters because they might be the only way you can get damage through later.

Today, I finally managed to get to 7 wins in premier Zendikar draft. 7 wins is special because once you get to 7 wins, the draft ends, and you get the highest level of rewards possible. I’ve never done it before. I’ve gone 6-3 a couple of times, but each time I stumbled on the final match. Not this time.

But let me set the stage...

I started off by doing a Theros quick draft since I wanted to get some drafting in, but I didn’t want to spend any gems. After drafting what I felt was a very solid deck with plenty of playable and more removal than I ever thought possible, I proceeded to go 2-3 after getting horribly mana screwed twice and getting run over by someone with a playset of Iroas’s Blessing and the sort of hyper aggressive B/R deck that you dream of drafting. Seriously, that deck was incredible. Looking at my deck, I thought it would go at least 4-3, but it just wasn’t to be.

I was a little bit aggravated by that, but at the same time, I was also very happy with the deck that I drafted. I thought it was super solid. I just didn’t get much help from the shuffler, and I ran into the equivalent of a rocket-propelled freight train. So I thought... why not give premier draft a go? My recent drafting attempts had managed to garner me a decent quantity of gems, and I had a good feeling about it since I feel I’ve got a better grasp of Zendikar draft than Theros.

So I paid up my 1500 gems and gave it a go. Of course, since I’m me, I decided I’d do some rare-drafting as well. 

The first pack wasn’t bad. I opened a Haggra Mauling for a super easy first pick that was also a rare that I wanted. I also picked up some nice playable like Shepherd of Heroes and Malakir Rebirth although I hadn’t settled yet on a colour to pair with black. About halfway through the pack, it became clear to me that black was relatively open since I was able to load up on plenty of mid-range (in quality) stuff to help round out the pack. I also dipped into red after Roil Eruption and Cinderclasm came by while white only had a few playables, but nothing as good as those two cards except the angel.

Pack two began with me picking the Mankindi Throne (yes, I know it’s draft garbage, but I needed it for my collection...) and finding out that red was getting cut by somebody else. I was a bit surprised since the Roil Eruption and Cinderclasm had gotten to me late in pack one, so I’d assumed red wasn’t taken, but I got nothing out of red from pack two. With red cut, I switched fully to white, which seemed to open up as a Canyon Jerboa and Felidar Retreat made their way to me mid-pack. At that point, I was questioning the sanity of some of my fellow drafters because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Felidar Retreat go pick 7 before. That card is completely nuts and requires basically no commitment from your deck other than you have some plains in it. 

Despite only committing properly to white in pack two, I was extremely relieved to be able to pick up some solid playables for it. I even managed to snag a second Shepherd of Heroes, which had me feeling even better about my decision to switch from red to white.

Pack three began with some more good luck. I opened a Squad Commander for an easy pick, and there were suddenly some clerics available to help fill out the party sub-theme I had going. I grabbed a couple, and I must have sent a strong enough signal because a Cleric of Life’s Bond wheeled and made it’s way into my deck. I didn’t have enough for a full on cleric deck, but I had enough clerics + incidental life gain that I thought I could make it work. If nothing else, I did need a two drop to fill out my curve. Getting a Mankindi Stampede in pack three was great too, and I was pretty certain that, at most, only one other person was drafting white because I was getting some goodies in the mid-to-late pack that I wouldn’t be getting if more people were in white.

My deck ended up being a BW mid-range deck that used clerics and a party-sub-theme to get through the early game and put on some aggression before landfall stuff (e.g., Prowling Felidar, Dreadwurm, Canyon Jerboa, and Felidar Retreat) combined with my fliers stabilised and took control of the game.

It did not start well.

In fairly short order, I was 2-2 with my two losses being just brutal and my two wins being close fought. At that point, I was already consoling myself with the fact I’d managed to snag quite a few rare cards during the draft, and at least I’d get some gems back (albeit not many) for winning twice. I told myself that I just had to focus on getting one more win since three wins gets you most of your investment back.

That fifth game was extremely close. It basically came down to me surviving an onslaught of aggression and trading creatures until I finally managed to slam Felidar Retreat onto a basically empty board. Felidar Retreat then did what it does best, and I basically out-valued my opponent the rest of the way.

From there, I played three more close games. Seriously, the games were tight, and I don’t think I’ve ever played better in a a draft. I won all but one of them with barely any life left after always going second (I think I only went first once the whole time), and there were a stack of complex decisions to make about how to use the removal I had and about when to trade and when to just take damage. The only easy game I had was the one in which my opponent got stuck on three mana, and I drew like a boss to just run over them with Canyon Jerboa shenanigans.

The last two games were nerve-wracking. In the game for my sixth win, I was up against this white-green party build. The early game was basically me getting punched in the face over and over again as they curved out like a champ and used three copies of Practiced Tactics to blow me out. After the second one, I thought, there’s no way they can have a third... and they did.

The pivotal moment in the game came when they went in to attack with their entire team, and I was able to engineer a situation that resulted in my team trading for theirs thanks to a Practiced Tactics of my own on a key creature. With the board clear, I was able to find my fliers, and they soared over for the win.

In the game for my seventh win, I was again on the back foot early. I went second, and the opponent was playing this awesome three colour landfall build with a party sub-theme. I was knocked down to 10 life in a real hurry as his landfall creatures outclassed mine, and I couldn’t find good spots to trade. I even got stuck on four mana for a bit. Finally, though, I found a Shepherd of Heroes and Felidar Retreat to stabilise with the lands to make them work. Unfortunately, they had a Territorial Scythecat, a Canyon Jerboa, and a bunch of creatures on their side with a Seagte Banneret threatening to pump their team. 

The game stalled out, but the biggest moment came when I could have played a spell on my turn but elected not to because I wanted to bluff a trick after showing him a combat trick earlier. I didn’t have anything, but the game was so close that I felt sure they wouldn’t attack into five open mana with three cards in my hand.

They played Mind Drain. In my hand were two cards that I didn’t super need... and my one copy of Mankindi Stampede. If I had played a spell, I would have been forced to discard it since I’d be left with only two cards in hand. Instead, I got to keep it, and I was able to gradually add to my board even as he forced through damage using Angelheart Protector to make his gigantic Scythecat indestructible. 

Since they weren’t in blue (they were running BWG), I knew that if I could just get enough creatures on the board, then my Stampede would win me the game. Unfortunately, I stopped drawing lands, so I couldn’t keep using Felidar Retreat to go wide, but I did draw a few creatures. However, they were drawing plenty of creatures themselves, and that Scythecat just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger.

At this point, with the board basically stalled out, I had a slight edge since I had the only flier on the board. I was slowly but surely chipping away at their life total, but then they made their move. They had played a Tajuru Blightblade earlier, but they’d kept it back to dissuade my reasonably large Prowling Felidar from cracking back at them. That’s when they drew a Taunting Arbormage.

I knew exactly what they were thinking. The kicked Taunting Arbormage would force everything to block the Blightblade, so that when they swung with the rest of their team, I wouldn’t be able to block, and I’d be dead.

There was just one problem: I was holding my Practiced Tactics in hand.

I blew up the Blightblade and started assigning blockers. The end result was me being alive and them without any blockers left to stop my counter swing for lethal. Once the dust cleared, they conceded, and I had my seventh win.

I might have done a little dance around the room when I realised that I’d finally gotten it.

7-2. 

Not bad. And the six packs I got as part of the prize? Solid hits on all of them.

Best night on Arena ever.

[transjinako]

Hey! Another servant and this time is Fenrir! 

Avenger: Fenrir 

Alignment: True Neutral 

Parameters: 

Strength: A++

Agility: A

Endurance: B+

Luck: E

Mana: B

NP: A-

Traits: 

Divinity A Madness Enhancement C Oblivion Correction (Gleipnir) C-  Self Replenishment (Magic) A

Skills: 

Divine Jaws A-: Fenrir is said to be the being that will end the world in norse mythology, who will devour both Odin and the earth and sky whole. Due to their ribbons however, their jaws cannot extend that far, however they do still contain traits of anti divinity in them. More applicably, whatever these jaws bite down on can only be destroyed at the end. 

Hopeless Howl B: A bone chilling roar from when Fenrir was bound, any and all who hear this cry become completely demoralized and will feel as though they are being weighed down, leaving them helpless to the wolf’s assault 

Shapeshifting C: A rather simple form of Shapeshift that just allows for Fenrir to grow parts of their body closer toward their original world ending size. 

Presence of the End (Fenrir) A-: A personal skill of Fenrir that marks them as a world ending being. Upon activation all things that Fenrir attacks has a higher likelihood of being mortally wounded to killed, they break through most magical defenses with ease and release a sort of energy into the air, degrading anything it touches physically. However, with the ribbons, this skill can’t truly reach it’s pinnacle, otherwise any non divine or protected thing would simply crumble away in the presence of Fenrir. 

Noble Phantasm(s) 

Gleipnir, Gjoll, Thviti: 

Type: Anti Self

Rank: EX

Description: The chains disguised as ribbon that bind Fenrir. With these strange colored ribbons wrapped around their body Fenrir’s parameters are lowered as well as their skills. If these were to somehow be broken, Fenrir’s Oblivion Correction would spike to EX, forgetting about all that they have experienced and move to end the world. 

Gjoll and Thviti are the stake shaped rocks that can be used to hold Fenrir in place if needed. While an enemy could possibly get close enough to use this against them, Fenrir capitalizes on their bindings. In battle, they make good use as both blunt and piercing weapons, the ribbons can be used as well, as they are much heavier than they would appear. 

The River Van 

Type: Anti Humanity Anti Army

Rank: B-

Description: When Fenrir was bound, their spit created the sea known as the River Van in norse mythology. As a being that brings forth the end, this spit becomes more volatile and eats away at life in a matter of seconds, akin to the Chaos Tide. While under the effects of Gleipnir, this is weakened considerably but can still be used as a deadly attack. 

Description of Servant: 

Fenrir is a massively sized wolf like creature, though definitely not your average wolf, its teeth are like trees, rows of razor sharp teeth that have thorn like bone protrusions coming off of them. Their fur is like clouds, billowing, stormy flowing in all directions as if it has no form and there is only a will keeping it together. Their paws have two sets of claws, one on each toe and 5 above it made for mauling and maiming. Along side that, bright yellow eyes within dark irises that dig into the soul. Despite the fear one might feel in their presence, the wolf is definitely beautiful, though its clear that time has worn on them. 

Fenrir is also able to use a human form if they should so please, large imposing androgynous human with hair flowing down their back reminicent of their fur and the same eyes. Their limbs are still animalistic and hold the traits of their clawed paws, except now theyre hands. A bit unwieldy with their claws but they get the job done. This form as well holds the god like beauty one could find in Fenrir’s wolf form, but its only more clear on a human face how worn down they are. 

Fenrir can talk in both forms in an imposing yet intelligent manner, they don’t boast often but they are prideful and will take any challenge that would grant them more fame head on. While they are smart, Fenrir is a wolf through and through and will usually go with their instincts on most issues, although they don’t like that about themselves. The reason for that is because they are naturally trusting, even when it has burned them horribly in the past, when first meeting someone Fenrir will always try to be cold before allowing affection to shine through. 

Interactions with other servants:

Hessian Lobo: That wolf that calls himself king is glaring yet again. Its a little annoying to be honest, what fame is there to be gained from kicking this poor dog, hm? I feel some sort of connection though, so, maybe we should allow our teeth to do our talking. 

Gorgon and Kingprotea: The extremely large snake woman is something to behold, I had to stop myself from seeing how her snakes tasted...ah, you saw when….well. It would be...poor of me to act like an animal in front of a child, a giant one at that. It was quite a sight though, a massive snake woman and a massive mossy child trying to pet me. In the end, I guess me and the snake woman have an...agreement, when it comes to that child. 

Martha: Rise up, brother! Will you simply allow this holy woman to keep you in her chains? Will you endure her bondage any longer?! Come, I will snap you free my-ah, huh? Oh? You...like her? I...hrm...thats...a little disappointing, you know... 

Red Hare: ….Master. While I understand your wish of not having me challenge the other chaldeans….that...that thing...if you bring him near me, I will eat him. Whats my problem? Hes completely strange is the problem! Its creepy! 

Atalante Alter: *Sniff sniff* *Sniff sniff* Hmm, I smell that woman again. She’s just plain senseless, instead of backing off already she keeps challenging my space. Tch, I’m itching to fight now…huh? Oh...! Fine, I’ll play nice yet again. Don’t blame me though, if I have to knock an angry kitty down a peg.

5+ servants that are animals/have animals with them: Are you by chance amassing a Zoo, master? Everyone in the animal quarters are just as odd as their owners, I swear, and I’ve had to fight for my space against the oddest things. Oh, though it was rather unexpected, the service here is nice. Even I enjoy being lavished like a god~

[battlekidx2]

Star Wars Rebels Rewatch Thoughts and Partial Review

Okay this is going to be a bit long because I have a lot of things I’d like to talk about. When I talk about the characters and standout episodes those are mostly my thoughts. When I talk about seasons as a whole those are more of a review.

I remember first hearing the announcement that rebels was going to be a show, reading the synopsis, and being immediately enthralled and excited. I love Luke, Leia, Han, Chewy, Obi Wan, clone wars Anakin and Ahsoka, but I was really interested in seeing how the empire’s rule would have affected other people and liked the idea of having a survivor of order 66 be part of the main cast. I remember this show fondly because unlike the clone wars, where I got into it in season 3, I got to watch this show all the way through from start to finish in real time. After a rewatch I still hold it in high regard and think that season 1 while not the best was a solid introduction to the characters, their struggles, and the beginnings of a wider rebellion with seasons 2-4 being great. 

Characters

Ezra:

Ezra is a character I have conflicting feelings about. In seasons 1 and most of season 2 the show seemed to struggle with what exactly to do with him and force him into every storyline even if the storyline would be better with focus elsewhere. This caused the show to give the rest of the ghost crew very little focus in season 1 and it wasn’t until season 2 that you got actual development and backstory for them. In seasons 3 and 4 this isn’t nearly as big of a problem and there are a lot more episodes dedicated to the rest of the main cast and they all have plotlines and arcs separate from Ezra. He also wasn’t the most interesting and, in my opinion, the least interesting of the main cast until twilight of the apprentice, which made the intense focus on him to be frustrating at times. Once the end of season 2 rolls around they do a much better job with him. Ezra is a character that I found to be by far at his most interesting while interacting with Darth Maul and struggling with the dark side. His struggle with the dark side was over way too quickly in season 3. He’s a character that I could see being a bit similar to Anakin in that his intense fear of being unable to protect his friends and family drives him closer to the dark side and this was shown wonderfully in twilight of the apprentice and steps into shadow. I was disappointed that they didn’t explore it more in depth because it could have been incredible. My only other problem with him in season 3 was how wildly inconsistent how capable he is was portrayed. In some episodes he would really screw up in ways that he should know better by now, like turning his back on a dangerous hostage and getting him and Sabine attacked, or too capable and “wise”, like when they had him “end” the clone wars and get the separatist and republic fighters to see his point of view. That last one bothered me because it took a lot of the nuance and sad pointlessness (because in the end both sides lost and were taken advantage of by the empire) of the clone wars and had Ezra, someone who didn’t even really understand what happened, resolve the conflict. They did take steps back in his development at the beginning of season 4, which I didn’t understand, and made him relearn the lesson “how we fight is what matters”. This is quickly rectified though and I absolutely loved what they did with him from Jedi Night on. His end saving his home world was fitting and I found myself sad to see him go. I’m conflicted on Ezra because I didn’t really like him that much in season 1 and a bit of season 2 and found him to be a lacking main perspective, but really liked what they did with him in seasons 3 and 4. Overall I liked him as a character, but not as the main perspective.

Kanan:

Kanan is who I felt should have been the main character. His journey of finding who he in the midst of tragedy after being forced to cut off a part of himself for so long and having to come to grips with having to face his trauma to do what’s right was fascinating. I liked how he was knighted despite the fact that he was so counter to what the Jedi were during the republic and I felt that was purposeful. Kanan seems to be the template for the new Jedi knight in a way. When Yoda gets around to training Luke he isn’t stuck to the old ways and doesn’t discourage attachment and I think that could have been influenced by Kanan. Kanan throughout rebels opens up more and more to people and suffers greatly, but because of those connections he isn’t tempted to the dark side. Every time he is beaten down it’s his care for others that makes him get up. His blinding and how he learns to connect with others and the world afterwards was one of my favorite parts of the show. He has to learn to see not just the world differently, but the force and everything's connection to it as well. He actually grows to become more pacifistic in a way and learns to better understand the feelings of the people and creatures around him. His relationship with the people around him grow and change as he does especially his relationships with Sabine and Ezra. He grows into a father figure of sorts for them during the course of the show. When his end finally comes he seems at peace with what will happen and dies so that his crew may live and Lothal will have a fighting chance. His death, while I knew it was coming since his introduction, was one of many emotional gut punches of the show and I really cared when he died. Kanan was my favorite character and I loved his growth in the show. I thought overall they did a really good job with Kanan and they seemed to know where they wanted him to go from the beginning. He was always meant to grow as a person and teacher with him finally dying for what he believed in and the family he made. 

Hera:

I really liked Hera as a character. I appreciated that her idealism did not equal naïveté. I think those two are too often associated with one another. Having Hera be idealistic and yet have the most realistic outlook of the ghost crew was refreshing. Hera truly believes in the rebel cause and puts everything she has into it. She creates a tunnel vision on fighting for a better future because war is all she has ever known. Hera doesn’t know what to do without a battle to fight and very nearly lets herself be consumed. She even states herself that she is fighting for a better future but has never considered a future for herself beyond the fight. She is pulled back from the brink by Kanan. Kanan and Hera have my favorite relationship of the show because there is actual communication between them. There isn’t any forced drama and you can tell what their relationship is through their actions. In the quiet moments between and after battles. It was devastating to see how Kanan’s death effected her. Shutting herself off from others and even doubting the cause she’s dedicated her whole life to. Hera was always the one encouraging everyone and providing hope when it looked lost, but in this moment she unravels and can’t do either of those things. And this realization that nothing last and that her new family may also be lost like much of her birth family carries through even after she regains her will to fight. When Ezra is going to turn himself over, despite it being what she would do in his place, she begs with him to find another way and it tug at my heartstrings because we know why she’s like this. She was always the pragmatic one that put the mission first and in this moment she was throwing it out the window and acting from her hurt and desperation. In the end even when Ezra turns himself over she does command the forces alongside Sabine and successfully help Ezra free Lothal. I really liked her character and my only real gripe is that I wish they had focused on her more in the earlier seasons. She also has some incredible feats while flying and the things they had her do were really creative. I really liked how capable she was behind the “wheel” and how that was a product of her love of flying and dedication.

Sabine:

Sabine was a character that I was initially very intrigued by. The fact that she was mandalorian and was at one point in the imperial academy were enough to get me interested, but the first two seasons didn’t explore much about her. When the episodes Trials of the Darksaber came around and the bombshells about her hand in Mandalore’s downfall and her family’s betrayal I was left in shock. I really liked these revelations at the time and appreciate them more in hindsight. Everything about her character in the first few seasons makes a lot more sense knowing her past. Horrible weapons don’t have to be created by bad people. Pride and arrogance can blind you and that’s what happened with Sabine, but she chose to own up to her mistakes and try to set things right. That’s what makes her one of our heroes instead of a villain. I really liked the way they handled the exploration of her guilt and determination to do what’s right. The sibling bond that her and Ezra grew to have ended up having some of my favorite moments of the show like when her and Ezra make eye contact in the finale and she distracts Hera for him to go and turn himself over to Thrawn. Overall I like what they did with Sabine, but once again felt like she should have had a bit more focus in the earlier seasons.

Zeb:

Zeb was a big casualty of the shows problems with spreading out the focus. He’s a character that actually got more focus in seasons 1 and 2 than he did in seasons 3 and 4. There was a lot of potential with his character that the show didn’t fully explore like his survivors guilt and his anger toward the empire because of the genocide. Zeb is a survivor of a genocide like Kanan and I think the show should have put an emphasis on their understanding of each other. It’s said but not shown nearly as much as I felt it should have been. I did like the storylines that did put focus on him though especially how he plays off Kallus in the show. From bitter enemies to reluctant allies to friends. And his relationship to Ezra was touching at times like how he hugged Ezra after Kanan’s death. Zeb is a character that I liked, but thought was underused the most out of the main cast.

Chopper:

Chopper was a surprise to me. I expected him to just be the token droid and he seemed like he may be in the first two seasons, but he actually gets a lot of development is seasons 3 and 4. Chopper doesn’t want to be put in a y-wing in the season 3 premiere and in Hera’s Heroes he’s frozen when he sees the y-wing he crashed in during the clone wars. There’s and underlying sadness and trauma there that is made very clear despite not real words being spoken. It’s also very clear that below his tough, cranky exterior he really cares about the members of the ghost crew. When Kanan dies he goes and holds Hera’s hand and makes sure she isn’t alone during this time. I loved this because it shows how close they really are. Hera shuts everyone else out at that time but Chopper. I truly felt by the end that chopper truly was part of the family of the ghost crew not just the token droid.

Kallus:

Kallus started out as a character you loved to hate and cheered when he lost. Kallus was threatening despite being unable to defeat the rebels in seasons 1 and 2. He was giving a good redemption arc that was kick started in the episode “the honorable ones” in season 2 where he is shown compassion by zeb and forced to reevaluate what he thought of the empire when he learns more about the rebels and their compassion for each other. The end of the episode perfectly juxtaposes zeb being found and happily accepted back by the rebels with Kallus returning to the ship with no one noticing he was gone and his poor condition with him sitting on his bed alone and disillusioned. He is finally faced with the reality of the empire’s cold calculation and uncaring nature and the rebels’ caring, fierce protectiveness. In season 3 I found him to be one of, if not the most, interesting character in the show. He had some fantastic episodes that centered around him like The Honorable Ones and Through Imperial Eyes. I really liked his storyline and how his relationship with Zeb became a story of compassion and forgiveness. The idea of breaking free from your programming and risking your life and everything you worked for because you now know what the right thing to do is the heart of Kallus’ journey. Rebels managed to turn a character I wanted to lose into a character I cheered for and was worried about when he was in danger. I wish he was used more in the 4th season when he’s with the rebellion because I think that would have been a fascinating dynamic for the show to explore.

On a side note: One small but telling moment with Kallus was when Thrawn is first introduced and everyone is praising him Kallus instead points out that civilian casualties outnumbered rebel casualties on Thrawn’s last mission and he is told that those numbers were acceptable because he brought the empire victory. Kallus looks displeased for a split second before getting his expression under raps.

Thrawn:

I really liked Thrawn as a villain. His cunning and genius was always intriguing when shown onscreen. I always felt like he was threatening and at times he even seemed unstoppable. Through Imperial Eyes showed a lot more sides of Thrawn than we had previously seen. He was a capable fighter and noticed intricacies within art that lead to him deducing Kallus’ identity as fulcrum. He was easily the best recurring villain of rebels. I never saw Ezra and Thrawn as true adversaries until the final episode of the series. He couldn’t be taken down unless something happened that was beyond his control and, at least I thought, it was implied that the force wanted Ezra to succeed in his mission to free Lothal and rid Thrawn from the rest of the rebel conflict. That the force had influenced the outcome in Ezra’s favor which just goes to show how much of an unstoppable force Thrawn was.

Standout episodes:

“The honorable ones” is a decidedly more nuanced look at soldiers within the empire. “I was… I was only doing my duty. I didn’t ask questions.”  This the first serious look into the inner workings of empire soldiers that I had seen up to this point. Kallus’ arc was about overcoming his training, drive, and brainwashing that what he was doing was right. That it was for the betterment of the galaxy and the protection of the empire and its people. He was sent into a battle he believed had to be fought believing that “it wasn’t meant to be a [genocide]”. All I could do was sit there and be amazed that we were actually getting a look into what soldiers must have been told and expected to do and realizing that what was happening around them wasn’t supposed to happen, but there’s no going back. It’s already been done. Having their fellow soldiers killed while on routine patrols just for being empire. Zeb tells Kallus “you can’t judge all Lasats by the actions of one” and Kallus shoots back “well does that apply to the empire too?” and it’s a valid question. The possibility of people being forced into the empire or taken when they are young and trained to believe what the empire tells them without being given a choice or even not truly believing and questioning the empire but being afraid to act out because of the empire’s power are all put onto the table here. As well as it being revealed that the soldiers aren’t given all the information about what the empire is doing and what they plan to do in their conquest. Not everyone within the empire wants to wage war and genocide. Not everyone is beyond redemption. I applaud this episode for daring to go here. It was willing to try and humanize the empire’s soldiers and kickstart one of my personal favorite character arcs of the show. With Kallus’ arc it managed to turn someone who was initially shown to be pretentious, ambitious, and cruel and have him admit to his wrongs, defy his programming, and risk his life and everything he ever worked for to do what he now knew to be right.

“Through imperial eyes” shifted the perspective character to Kallus with a very interesting choice to open with the audience seeing things through his eyes. This episode showed just how good Kallus is at being the rebel spy. He pins the blame on someone else through a series of well thought out actions and uses his observations and skills to evade capture and detection. Neither Kallus or Thrawn are depicted as anything less than cunning. Kallus is only found out by a blunder on Ezra’s part and the fact that Thrawn is a genius. The change in perspective to Kallus was a breath of fresh air. The change is tone and genre from action adventure to a kind of spy thriller works to the show’s favor. This episode showed both Kallus and Thrawn at their best and cemented Kallus as one of the most interesting characters in the entire show.

You can’t talk about standout episodes and not talk about “Jedi Knight”. This episode is probably the one, next to the finale, that I got the most emotional about during my rewatch. When I first watched this episode I remember there was a foreboding feeling throughout that the Ghost crew’s luck would finally run out. The entire episode was tense and despite knowing the outcome on my rewatch I was still on the edge of my seat and hoping the inevitable wouldn’t happen. The Kanan and Hera dynamic is touching and sad. I wanted them to get around to saying what they really meant and when they finally did I was sad because I knew their time together was at a close. I still wish they could have had their happy ending. Kanan seemed so accepting like he knew what was going to happen to him, but was okay because he would go out protecting the people he loves. When Kanan’s death finally happened and the episode quietly faded to white with ashes blowing past the star wars rebels logo I had to sit back once again and let that episode sink in. Kanan was my favorite character and his death impacted me and you could tell in that moment how much the ghost crew was hurting. I really liked this episode and thought it was well done from the music, to the dialogue, to the animation. Kanan’s death scene was one of the most visually stunning of the show and that moment when he regained his sight to see Hera, the woman he loves, one last time is etched in my memory.

“A World Between Worlds” was a really good episode focusing on loss. This whole episode was fantastic and I loved the idea behind the world between worlds. Finally getting closure about what happened to Ahsoka and having the ghost crew especially Ezra and Hera get closure for Kanan’s death were really well done. I especially liked when Ezra was given the chance to save Kanan and he struggles to let go and accept that he can’t save Kanan and the rest of the ghost crew. The struggle to not save his master and surrogate father almost overwhelms him and it is only through Ahsoka’s guidance and his own inner strength that he is finally able to let go and accept kanan’s death. “He’s gone now, isn’t he? I mean, really gone?” This line hit me like a ton of bricks while rewatching because there could be no more denial by the ghost crew (and myself). Kanan’s death was set in stone. This realization happens while looking out at a beautiful view at the temple and Hera has her hand on her shoulder where Kanan’s force ghost had touched her before. Ezra get one last look at the loth wolf Dume on the horizon before he fades from view giving him closure before turning and heading back to the ghost and the future. This last scene with Hera and Ezra staring out into the horizon and then turning back to the ghost after their closure makes me think that this symbolizes them looking back at the past, the good times, and the people they’ve loved and lost and turning back to the ghost is them turning back to the fight and the future instead of letting the past continue to hold them back despite how beautiful the past is and how painful the future and present may be.

Rebels has incredibly strong season openers and finales with the most well known being twilight of the apprentice, but all of them were great. 

Spark of the rebellion was a solid beginning to the series and did a good job of introducing us to the ghost crew. While the weakest of the season openers it contains one of my favorite moments of the series when Kanan reveals himself to be a Jedi. That scene still gave me chills upon a rewatch. It was a solid introduction to the ghost crew and gave a glimpse of what was to come.

The finale of the first season was easily the strongest episode of the first season. Kanan’s rescue and fight with the inquisitor were both very exciting. The Inquisitor’s parting words to Kanan “There are some things worse than death” was incredibly foreboding and still gets me excited for what’s to come (even though I know what’s going to happen). I like it when Kanan steps up to the plate and takes out a powerful enemy like the inquisitor and maul. I still really like that the burn Ezra gets on his cheek stays for the rest of the series.

The second season premiere “the siege of Lothal” was an instant game changer and had our characters come face to face with Darth Vader for the first time and had Ahsoka discover his identity as her master. The rebels being driven off Lothal changed everything that was to come. This was where the massive jump in quality between seasons 1 and 2 became apparent. The stakes were immediately ratcheted up. The rebellion was forced to flee and Lothal was thought to be lost. Darth Vader was imposing and it was made very clear that none of the rebels stood a chance against even just Vader let alone the empire.

Twilight of the apprentice had me reeling for a few day after I watched it for the first time. I couldn’t get what had happened and how it had ended out of my head. How would the ghost crew move forward with this? How far to the dark side will Ezra sink? How will Kanan fight now that he is blinded? Was this the end for Ahsoka Tano? The second season finale is some of my favorite Star Wars content period. The long awaited confrontation between Ahsoka and Darth Vader, Maul’s return, Kanan being blinded, and much more. The final lines between Ahsoka and Vader with Ahsoka saying she won’t leave him again and Vader responding with “Then you will die” showing just how far gone he was and that he truly was no longer the caring person Ahsoka once knew, but a bitter empty husk. Everything was phenomenal in this two part finale. I think twilight of the apprentice is in a way comparable to the empire strikes back in that the good guys didn’t really win in the end. Both Maul and Vader lived, kanan is now blind, and nobody knew what happened to Ahsoka with heavy implications that she was dead (later proven wrong). There wasn’t a rebel victory. In a way this finale was truly the beginning of all the trials that would come for both the rebellion and the ghost crew. I still get excited every time I revisit it even knowing how everything pans out. This is the moment that cemented rebels as one of my personal favorite cartoons.

The third season premiere “steps into shadow” was another strong two part opening. Ezra’s struggle with the dark side and Kanan and Ezra reconnecting after Kanan distances himself were series highlights for me. The scene where Kanan tells Ezra to let go and trust him was emotionally resonant and showed that despite Ezra’s anger and frustration on the inside he was still a scared kid that just wanted to do what was right and got in over his head. While Twilight of the Apprentice got me really interested in Ezra as a character and where Dave Filoni wanted him to go these were the episodes that really got me to start liking him, kind of ironically I’ll admit. I do think they should have taken Ezra’s foray into the dark side further, but I’m happy with how they executed it in these two episodes.

The third season finale “Zero Hour” was a thrilling conclusion to the season and saw many things come to fruition. Thrawn was an incredibly threatening and capable villain. His capability and smarts weren’t undermined in his loss because his plan would have worked if his subordinate obeyed and the Bendu wasn’t on Atollon, which are both things Thrawn could not have predicted. He still gets incredibly close to wiping out the rebellion despite both of these and still survives and has the manpower to threaten the rebellion again. It goes to show the rebellion that they aren’t ready for full out war with the empire because they are outnumbered, outmanned, and outgunned with almost no advantages save their unpredictability which can only get them so far. Seeing the rebellion so close to being completely wiped out rattled me. I had forgotten how bleak the fight looked for the rebels and how many casualties had occurred.

The season 4 opener is meant to show a victory after the near destruction of the rebellion that ended last season showing that there is still hope for the rebellion. I really liked seeing Sabine leading with the darksaber and her finally being able to confront her mistake and destroy her creation once and for all. Bo-Katan’s return was exciting. I always enjoy seeing characters from other star wars media appear in rebels. Bo-Katan being the influence Sabine needs to ultimately do the right thing and getting the darksaber afterwards to lead Mandalore felt fitting as someone who has seen the clone wars.

The season 4 finale is once again emotional and tense. It’s incredibly fitting that the ghost crew’s journey together began on Lothal and ends on Lothal. Everything comes full circle and Ezra and the pergil are able to free Lothal and defeat Thrawn, but him and Thrawn are jettisoned away on a star destroyer not to be heard from. The moment where Hera is desperately trying to come up with a plan and Ezra and Sabine just look at each other and nod before she gives him an opening to escape made me emotional on a rewatch and was when I realized how much I loved these characters. The series goes out on a bittersweet note showing the liberation from the empire, but also the losses the ghost crew faced and their trouble moving on from them. It’s filled with both hope and melancholy and is easily the second best episode behind twilight of the apprentice. The lingering shot of the painting of the ghost crew was cathartic and touching. Even after everything that has happened they will always remember each other and never forget their journey that we got to be a part of.

 Seasons:

 Star wars rebels has a shaky first season, but I do think is was fairly solid. It did a pretty good job of introducing us to the personalities of the members of the ghost crew and established right out of the gate what the show would be about and what to expect. We knew that this would be about the start of the rebellion against the empire and we would get to see the rebellion grow in manpower, resources, and influence. It dropped a lot of hints of what is to come and what has already happened in our character’s past. The first season’s problems mostly stem from their struggle with the main character Ezra and trying to be a lighter toned but serious star wars story. The show didn’t really know what to do with Ezra in the first season and seemed to struggle to find their footing with him. I personally didn’t really like or connect to Ezra until much later in the series, which is a problem considering he’s the main character. The lighter tone was also a problem because it restricted what the show could do greatly considering this show is supposed to chronicle the beginning of the Rebellion that is seen in A New Hope and that period of time was a dark time for the galaxy with the empire ruling tyrannically. When the show went darker like when Kanan was captured and it dealt with loss the show was enjoyable, but there were a lot of light hearted episodes that didn’t seem to push the show forward in this first season that kept it from being better.

 There is a massive jump in quality between the first and second seasons. The second season starts off with the introduction of Darth Vader and the Empire's “siege of Lothal”. It does a much better job with the tone and keeps it fairly consistent throughout the season. They also utilize the characters much better with many more of the episodes focusing on characters outside of Ezra and giving them backstory. It introduces a lot of familiar faces, like Rex, that don’t feel forced and that I was really happy to see once again. Kanan, Hera, and Zeb got their moments to shine and got a lot of development. This season started Kallus’ redemption arc and the episode that it begins in is a standout. I appreciated that it delved into trying to show how imperial soldiers must feel, their perspective, and the idea that they too cannot be seen as a faceless mass but instead individuals where not all are beyond redemption. The show keeps its momentum and produces Twilight of the Apprentice, which is some of my absolute favorite star wars content. I already gushed about it above so I won’t go into huge detail, but it did so much right and changed the status quo of rebels forever. This season started strong and ended strong and showed just what this show could give.

 Season 3 was an even stronger overall season than the last. This is where I really started liking Ezra. Once again even more focus is put on the supporting cast and Ezra isn’t really forced into a main role in storylines that aren’t about him. Sabine finally gets her backstory revealed in two really strong episodes Trials of the Darksaber and Legacy of Mandalore. I wish they had explored Sabine a bit more in earlier seasons, but the quality and strength of these episodes make the wait worth it to me. Kallus and Thrawn were probably the highlights of the season for me though. Kallus became an incredibly interesting character and the setup for his disillusionment with the empire and potential redemption were paid off wonderfully. I love his arc and liked that it allowed the show to have an episode from the imperial perspective. Thrawn was a fantastic villain every time he manipulated what happened and made deductions I found myself thrilled and actually cheering. I wanted our rebels to come out on top eventually, but I was enjoying what they were doing with Thrawn too much to want him defeated in this season.

 The show seemed to be given less and less limitations on what it could do the longer it went on and it gradually got darker with each season. This season was the darkest with Kanan’s onscreen death, Ezra’s ambiguous fate, and multiple onscreen deaths of supporting characters. This season was the one I felt was the strongest. The stretch of episodes from Rebel Assault to Family Reunion - and Farewell was easily the strongest string of episode in the show. I was consistently on the edge of my seat waiting to see what would happen. Kanan’s death was what I consider to be the biggest emotional gut punch of the show. I loved that we got to see each of the ghost crew members deal with their grief in different ways. Seeing Hera have a crisis of faith in the fight she has unwaveringly fought for this entire time made me emotional and I realized how attached I was to these characters because I understood how they felt and wanted them to be happy and get the victory they deserved. The series started on Lothal and ended on Lothal with the ghost crew finally freeing the planet from imperial grasp. I was happy that they finally got the victory they strove for since the beginning. In the end I was happy to follow the ghost crew through their journey and thought this was a really strong season and note to end the series on.

[pumpkin-spice-whump-latte]

Whumptober #18: Muffled Scream

When the idea for this one finally came it was like my brain did a little excited wiggle. Not that it’s an original one, but still. Poor Ben.

content includes: forced to watch hear, implied torture, whumping the caretaker

___________________________________________________

It probably wasn’t Carlos that he heard screaming down the hall. Ben told himself that once it became clear the strangled, panicked sounds weren’t going to stop. He wished he could keep the time while he was locked up in this dreary cell, but it was impossible. (Gave up tracking the days and nights by the sun through the barred window on day 120, and he tried not to think of that as anything but a logical conservation of precious energy. Not the failure it actually was.)

Another cry drifted from far away and wrapped around Ben’s heart. There were other “experiments” with them. It could be any one of those other poor souls. It could be that pitiful, broken monster with the pig snout sewn onto his face.

Carlos would have been cussing. He would have been raging, not going gently into that good night and all that shit. He would have been scared but there would have been indignant anger behind his screams as well, as if he refused to believe he was helpless. As if he absolutely wouldn’t stand for giving up.

Ben told himself that was strength but some pragmatic part of him couldn’t help but think of it as blind ignorance. Dangerous pride. Optimism that no longer made sense.

“AaaHhhhk!” They hardly even sounded human, those noises. They ricocheted off the walls like bullets. Like broken glass. They were full of more pain and terror than Ben wanted to admit to himself, and more than once he had to bite back tears. Even if it wasn’t Carlos down there, no creature deserved to suffer that way.

What was worse (maybe the worst of all) was that he could tell that whoever it was had been screaming into some kind of gag. The scientist had stuffed a rag into his victim’s mouth, or tied one tight enough around their face, because it was a conscious decision to bring them to this level of agony. It had been an actual thing on his fucking to-do list.

When a lion mauled you to death, it was horrible. But at least it was for a reason. Food or territory or you pissed it off by trying to play Steve Irwin. At least it made some sort of sense. Oh, you got ripped apart by a fucking lion?? What the fuck were you doing around a lion you dumb ass??? What did you expect it to do, give a tea service?????

In the laboratory it was different. There was no reason for it. There was no saving yourself by keeping a safe distance from the lion’s den. You were living with an animal that would maul you over and over… Just because. Just to hear you scream.

How could you save yourself from that? What good did getting angry do anymore?

“Ehhhhhhn!”

No.

Oh god, no. Please. That wasn’t a severely muffled scream of his own name. That wasn’t the sound of a man who might have given up fighting, who maybe had reached his limit, and who’s stupid pride had crumbled enough to try and call for help. No way, no fucking way.

“Ehhhhnnnn!! Leeee--hee-heeeease!”

Another fit of tears crept up his throat and this time he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop himself from scrambling off the spot on the floor that he’d been rocking back and forth in all night, and throwing himself against the metal door to his cell. Banging his fists on it till they ached. Till he saw little streaks of red.

“You leave him alone! That’s enough goddamnit! That’s eNOUGH you FUCKING monster, PLEASE!” He couldn’t stand it anymore. Carlos was strong, yeah, but Ben knew it was all a front. Ben knew the way his friend shook through unseen terrors in his sleep, the way his voice trembled sometimes, the way he’d taken to leaning on Ben after a particular bad batch of experimentation.

Ben didn’t think he was very strong but he also had nothing to prove. He could take it. Whatever it was… He could take it because his resilience was in pessimism. Low expectations. Gentle acceptance. The faster you went, the harder you crashed, and oh god, Ben was pretty sure he was being forced to hear his friend crash.

“Just take ME! Just– Do you HEAR me? Hey! Take me INSTEAD!”

For a moment…

Just for a moment…

The screaming stopped.

There was a silence that hung in the air, just long enough for Ben to have one second of hope. One solitary second of hope mixed with terrible fear that he’d hear footsteps coming down the hall for him, ready to take him up as a willing sacrifice to whatever horrors the scientist was inflicting on his friend. And yeah, he was scared of the pain but having to sit here and witness his friend breaking and hear him screaming was going to shatter his brain as well as his heart.

But no. No, after only thirty seconds the screaming started again. Ben let himself slide down the door in despair. Moaning low and heartbroken in his throat for–

...For.

…Whoever that was.

That couldn’t be Carlos. That couldn’t be Ben’s name being torn in desperation from Carlos’ scream ravaged throat. It had to be someone else.

Ben brought his knees up to his chest and buried his face against them as he sobbed. It was someone else.

It was someone else.

[cursedserpenthq]

(zach mcgowan, 32, cis male, werewolf) Blimey! Is that (ARVED LESKE)? (HE) is the (LEAD VANGUARD) on the Cursed Serpent and has been onboard the ship for (TWELVE YEARS). Legend has it they are (DEVOTED & PERCEPTIVE), but don’t get on their bad side, because I hear they’re (FEROCIOUS & DEFENSIVE). Aye! Stop staring! (VED) has their (SABRES) out! (ooc: Gray, PST, 28, they, none)

THE CURSED SERPENT

Captain Bradway wasn’t always a captain, and Arved Leske wasn’t always a name that was known and feared through Port Royal and far beyond. First, they were a sea-hardened sailor with a good heart and a boy with a terrible secret, and little else. Scott literally pulled Ved out of the gutter, despite having witnessed the horror of a young werewolf mauling a few men to bloody pieces. They’d had it coming.

That’s how Ved had existed, until then - tooth and claw. He and his mother fled the Luna pack when he was only a child, after his father tried and horribly failed to rise through the ranks. Not long after, she was slain during the full moon. Hunted, like an animal. Alone, Ved slunk and struggled his way through the world, fending off the cruelties of man and nature alike. It made him hard, but not heartless; Scott could see that, and, slowly, earned the trust of the half-wild creature he’d found. If it weren’t for Bradway, Ved wouldn’t be much of a man at all - or, he wouldn’t have lived to be anything. The old man was even able to secure a solution to Ved’s struggles to contain the beast he could be, aided by a sorcerer his researches had led him to. With that locked away, Bradway was confident that Ved would make an exceptional, if unusual, asset to his new crew. Ved wasn’t so certain - about losing that part of himself, terrible as it was, or about staying on with these pirates. It was Scott’s word, Scott’s faith, that got him onto the ship in the first place.

Ved quickly strove to be useful around the Serpent, and he was. But, as he grew, it quickly became plain enough that the boy had something fierce in him, something that could be frightfully destructive. Again, it was Bradway who brought him to heel. Not perfectly, perhaps, but. With sword in hand, Scott tried to show Ved what that power could do, when controlled, and what it meant to fight alongside and for your crewmates. Soon, Ved was joining the vanguard as they boarded and raided ships and fortresses. Eventually, he led those same missions, his prowess in close quarters proven over and over. It wasn’t that Ved enjoyed the murder and maiming; Scott would never have tolerated such a soul. He was simply suited to the task, stronger, quicker, sharper than any human, more resilient, sharper of ear and eye… and, from brutal experience, prepared to be merciless. Legends of his violence - some horrors truer than others - soon began to precede him, and the Cursed Serpent. Which suited the captain’s needs, really. These tales added some menace to their flag, made prize ships more likely to give in without a fight and merchants and fences less likely to haggle. Whether or not Ved likes being the subject of rumors and ballads is pretty damn irrelevant, at this point. Not much he can do to stop it all.

Ved’s always kept on the fringes of the crew, but not unpleasantly so; he’s just got a great deal to hide, and never wanted to test Bradway’s care and trust by getting too close, slipping up, and doubtlessly creating terrible problems for them both. In all his time on the Cursed Serpent, he’s never told a soul but Bradway what he is, or where he came from. He doesn’t plan to. Even among the vanguard, where his ties are truly battle-tested, Ved doesn’t believe for a second that a soul would stand with him if they knew the truth. And he wouldn’t even entirely hold it against them. At the same time, in some sad way, he’s wound up estranged from half of himself - from the animal that’s been bound and tied away under his skin for so long. It’s supposed to be a piece of him, it used to be; now, it’s a stranger, and the thought of releasing it has become more frightening than anything else. So, really, Ved’s hardly a proper werewolf anymore. But he’ll never be human, and that means he’ll never be free to live as he likes unless he keeps his secrets to himself. The Serpent has been his home for a good while, now. Honestly, he’s not sure where else he’d go, what else he’d do. If keeping most of the crew at arm’s length helps him avoid those questions, he’ll do it. The reputation helps with that. New recruits, certainly, tend to give the master of the vanguard a wide berth.

The death of Captain Bradway struck Ved from a few directions, all painful. Scott was more than a leader, more than a parent, more than a mentor and friend to Ved; he was his first real, meaningful experience of anything like kindness. Moreso, as the vanguard, Ved feels personally responsible for Bradway’s demise. Maybe he couldn’t convince the old man not to come along, but… if only he’d been closer, in that raid, there to look out for Scott the way the captain had looked out for him. Ved’s sure the rest of the crew sees some guilt there, some failure, whether or not that’s fair or productive. Maybe he’s right, maybe not. He certainly blames himself, and that’s been weighing heavily on him. Heavier than he’s admitted.

SECRET

Ved’s secret is nothing less explosive - potentially - than the fact that he’s a werewolf. He’s well aware of how his kind is seen by the world, and with all he’s survived and done, isn’t about to argue that the risk isn’t very, very real. Nor is he going to go around sharing this dangerous truth with just anyone; it’s under control, has been for years, and there’s no need for them to know. Not their problem. Captain Bradway made it his, and in doing so, made it possible for Ved to have a place that finally felt like home - he doesn’t expect anyone to be so understanding, especially given how long he’s been lying to them.

KEY RELATIONSHIPS

THE MUTUAL SUSPICION For whatever reason, Ved and this character have never been able to establish even the comradely trust of sharing a ship. There’s just something off, not right, unsettling, and time hasn’t changed that. Ved’s not the type to avoid people, and that’s a hard thing to do aboard ship, anyway. But. Whenever he has to share space with The Mutual Suspicion, his hackles are clearly raised - and so are theirs. He won’t like being forced to work with them, or being pushed to take their word for anything, no matter who’s trying to convince him it’ll all work out. Captains included.

THE AUTHORITY ISSUE Ved never openly defied or disagreed with Bradway, never gossiped or backchatted about anything that passed between them, as captain and master of the vanguard. He also hasn’t started any problems shipside, with boatswains or first mates or anyone else of any sort of authority, since those early days. In fact, he tends to keep the rest of the vanguard in check. They tend to be some of the better-behaved crew members, while onboard the Serpent, at least. (In port, they’ve something of a reputation for rowdiness.) But. Times are changing, and the old captain’s gone. Ved’s not a big fan of change, generally, and he’s wary of what might become of the ship’s officers now that Bradway’s gone. Power does things to a person, and there’s power up for grabs. Those officers might feel the same about him, looking at the understated sway he holds over the vanguard. Or they might misread things entirely from the opposite angle, and presume he’ll just follow orders, as he always seemed to do when Scott was alive. Maybe he was Bradway’s dog, as they say… but Bradway’s dead, and mistaking Ved’s earned deference for any sort of thick-headed lackeyishness would be a bad mistake.

THE COMRADES IN ARMS Every ship needs a strong vanguard, a cadre of fighters ready to charge over the side and start a raid, by sea or land. This is one of the most dangerous and deadly jobs in their trade, and they know it. It’s among these people, this pack of bloodthirsty, easily riled pirates and butchers, that Ved wound up finding his purpose on the Cursed Serpent. Bradway feared that this role would draw out the worst in his werewolf find, and perhaps he was right to. Nonetheless, the old captain couldn’t deny that Ved was every bit as valuable as he’d hoped - there, at the front, in the thick of the fighting. It didn’t take long for Ved to win the confidence of the once-dubious vanguard, and he’s since come to a position of natural, informal leadership within this portion of the crew, risen there by virtue of his (supernaturally) powerful presence on the battlefield. The vanguard genuinely trusts Ved, his judgment, his skill as a warrior. As they all adjust to life without Bradway, some difficult questions might get asked. For instance - who do they respect more? Their leader, or their captain? This isn’t a conflict Ved will welcome, or encourage. But he also won’t take well to anyone trying to step on his fellows in the vanguard, just for speaking their minds - even if that talk smacks of mutiny and treason, it’s only talk. Right?

THE ONE WHO KNOWS BETTER Ved’s been on the Cursed Serpent since before Bradway was captain, long enough for at least someone on the ship to have gotten to know him more than most. While many of their crewmates beyond the vanguard do their best to avoid or ignore him, this character is familiar enough to read Ved’s rather reserved moods and reactions. Perhaps they’re not deeply acquainted, or, maybe it’s rather intimate - either way, there’s some odd, quiet comfort in this connection, for both parties. Whether or not they admit it, that’s for them to figure out. 

ANYTHING ELSE

Questions have been answered!