#spider sith over here

[thivell]

Sith OC is currently in the oven and slowly rising- having fun tho

for those who’ve seen the insanity so far- no you haven’t shhh

[darknessawaits28]

The Chronicles of The Mandalorian and Boba Fett~(love triangle) Chapter 1

Storyline: This is the story of a young warrior (y/n), that fought all across the galaxy, earning a name that brought fear to the ears of many. Life was as good as it can be, until the Empire took that away, giving her the heart of an ice spider. She had no choice but to go into hiding, after all, there was still a bounty to her head. So, she decided to do the simplest job that anyone could possibly do; bounty hunting. Though bounty hunting was a dangerous profession, something that she could obviously handle, but it could sometimes lead to unforsaken enemies and possible lovers. Well, who shall we meet on this journey? 

Warnings: Well, it can be fluffy at times but there are going to be scenes that might offend or be inappropriate to many. With that being said, this story contains; Fluff, Choking, oral sex (F receiving), Fingering, Sex, Doggy style, Blood, Violence, Cursing, masturbating etc. There is also notions of injections and medical stuff. There is a lot more stuff but Enjoy lovies!

(Note: This is not following the exact story of the star wars trilogy, it will have a lot of pieces from Mandalorian, Boba Fett, and maybe include already known characters)

(Second Note: I haven't continued this story in a while, I will have to watch back the films to remember most of the scenes so it will take me some time to continue writing, but stay tuned for updates!)

(On another note: Thank you lovies for all your love and support, hope you enjoy the story) :3

Chapter 1: The Beginning of a long journey

It was a long cold night, sounds of the cackling fire pressed against your inner ear as you sat upon the grassy meadows of Tython. Tears began to overwhelm you as you remembered the tragedy that happened on Coruscant, your parents and masters that trained you, slaughtered before your very eyes by the so called Empire. If your master was here, he would probably say, 'This is not the time to cry and act childish, you are in a world were you have to take care of yourself, not matter the cost.' A bit heartless, but he was right, a warrior like yourself could not just sit here and cry because you lost loved ones. We all loose loved ones eventually. You were a warrior, built to take any blow by any man, woman, or machine. That strength earned you the title of 'The blood seeker', a dark name that everyone knew, especially the Empire. Having two red light sabers can attract a lot of attention (another reason why you were called the blood seeker), but you belonged to no creed, no caste, not anything. You were neither Jedi nor Sith, you were just you, a simple girl using the force to protect the innocent and seek revenge when necessary. 

        As you thought about this, you pulled out a small journal, opening it to see the pictures of your family, friends, masters, it struck a nerve inside you; your sadness turning into burning hatred.

"I will kill them all....if its the last thing I do..." you mumbled under your breathe, standing to your two feet.

Slowly but surely you walked over to a woody tree, tugging at both your light sabers from your leg pouches, unsheathing them with a hum that echoed against your ears.

"They will suffer" you yelled as you chopped the tree, slashing it into pieces as if it were the enemy. "You took everything from me!" A another slash could be heard echoing. "I will kill your children!" A slash again. And again. And again, until there was nothing left to cut. You panted heavily as you stood before the tree that was no more, sheathing your lightsaber back into your pouches, closing it of course so that you wouldn't cut your leg off.

"I can't keep living on this planet alone, I have to find a something to do, maybe a job that can possibly lead me to the people that hurt my family" You thought, pacing back and forth. Yet, it hit you, "Hmm, how about Nevarro or Tatooine?" "They could possibly have jobs for me to do, or I could possibly just sign up at the nearest bounty hunting guild?" 

        With that in mind, you snuffed out the fire, heading towards the coinvent ship that you stole a long time ago from a degenerate man that wanted to fuck you as payment for this hunk of junk. "I guess we can start at Nevarro, hopefully this piece of shit can survive a hyper jump again, it was a while since I used it" you huffed, closing the hatch door before heading to the cock pit. As you strapped yourself in, you turned towards the stuffed bantha that your father gave you when you were just a little foundling, a soft smile appearing across your face. "I love you papa, and mama" you chuckled, turning back towards the controls.

As you began to press the same buttons you used before, the ship began to whir and purr, the engines turning on quicker than usual, "Okay please for the love of yoda, work!" You begged, as you began to lift off the ground, heading up to the sky of Tython. Once you entered the atmosphere, the ship began to shake, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, worried that this might be your last time alive. But, thankfully, the ship survived the entry into space and you got ready to make the jump to Nevarro.

"Lets knock some heads in!" was the last thing that escaped your lips as you jumped to the planet of Nevarro.

[weepylucifer]

obimaul rec list by a picky reader (a work in progress)

this is good for "obi-wan saves trash spider maul" which i normally get nitpicky over bc i don't want savage and maul's brotherly bond to be erased... but this one's just very good! rated e

pretty straightforward tatooine cohabitation fic that scratches that exact itch. this is one of the ones where maul has prosthetic legs but his original dick. rated m

this is the best one!!!! it's another "old men on tatooine" one and it's got everything you'd want from that scenario and more. conflict! mind sex! maul redemption! character study! lightsaber fights! come one come all to mos nowhere. it's a wip but the author's around and presumably still writing. even if not, what's here already is GREAT fun. rated e

not explicitly shippy (presumably that's in the in-progress sequel that i haven't had time to catch up on yet with the whole "mom in the hospital" situation i have) but great character interactions and exploration of tatooine as a setting. i keep obsessively rereading maul's 5-chapter-long intense mental breakdown. rated m for mental breakdown that lasts 5 chapters

this is the rarest of all animals, a codymaulobi. set during the republic with maul as mand'alor. reading this fic was what made me think "hm interesting ship, how would i do it?" and hot sith girl summer was born. good smut for bdsm enjoyers. good codymaul bonding. rated e

[jayjaymorgan]

RexWalker Week - Day 1, Sith!au

Author’s Note : This fic is a part of a series me and @farkmagic came up with and are still working on. Please remember that English isn't my native language, so there might be some mistakes and stuff. I hope you all like it, have a great day/night!

Taglist : @rexwalker-week

TW : cursing, description of injuries

The bridge shook with yet another explosion, kicking up clouds of volcanic dust and smoke, that choked the sky and blinded them temporarily. Coughing and blinking the tears out of their eyes, the Bad Batch did their best not to breathe in the toxic fumes as they pressed on, cutting down the droids where they stood. Rex stopped to adjust his helmet, kicking the filters into overdrive, while doing his best to suppress his coughing as the ventilators whirred to life. “You okay?” Omega asked, voice strained, glancing at her older brother, her worry palatable through her visor. “...’m fine.” he nodded, before clearing his throat and glancing around at the hellish landscape of the planet Mustafar. “We need to keep going. Come on.” He gripped his blasters tightly and jogged after the rest of the team, with Omega following close behind him, her bow at the ready. The small crew of seven pressed on, pushing forward through the debris and smoke, with the distant sounds of volcanic eruptions following their every move. Wrecker grunted as he pushed the mangled remains of a Spider Dwarf Droid out of the way, tossing it aside with ease. He let out a cheer as the droid fell off the bridge and disappeared in the lava below, sinking like a stone in the water. “This is insane.” Crosshair muttered angrily, before flicking his toothpick after the unlucky robot. “Why are we even here? The intel isn’t worth all this hassle, is it now?” “It is.” Tech snapped back, visibly irritated. “Quit that, I can see you rolling your eyes under your bucket.” Crosshair huffed in annoyance, but didn’t argue further. As they rounded a corner, they were met with yet another wave of droids, swarming towards them like ants, with blasters at the ready. A dark, foreboding outpost loomed in the distance, overlooking the battlefield like a vulture sitting on a tree, waiting for its share of rotting meat. The sight sent a shiver down Rex’s spine. “I don’t like the look of that.” he muttered quietly, as he surveyed the sea of enemies that stood between them and the blast doors of the garrison. “Neither do I.” Echo agreed, furrowing his brows. Before any of them could come up with any plan of action, Wrecker charged at the droids with a blood-curdling war cry. He grabbed one by its leg and swung it like a club, sending several others tumbling over the edge of the narrow overpass. The giant made quick work of the droids, throwing his weight around like a bulldozer, leaving the battle field looking more like a salvage yard one would see on Ferrix. He cleared out a path to the outpost, laughing like a maniac while the terrified droids scrambled for cover and fell back to the garrison. Just as he turned to face his brothers and sister, with a proud smirk clearly visible beneath his helmet, the whole crew stopped in their tracks, as the reinforced metal doors were torn open from within, nearly flying off of its hinges. A wave of cold wind rushed out of the dark tunnel, a bone chilling contrast against the hot and suffocating atmosphere of Mustafar. The air around the Bad Batch became noticeably thicker, heavier, it felt like they were underwater. It was so sudden that it knocked the breath out of Rex’s lungs, leaving him dazed and confused. Before any of them could recover, Wrecker’s whole body tensed up and he reached up to his neck, sputtering, like he couldn’t breathe. His feet lifted off the ground, as he clawed at the invisible force that threatened to crush his windpipe, kicking and trashing wildly. “Wrecker!” Omega called out with fear as she broke into a run to help her brother, only to be knocked back by an unseen barrier. She tumbled to the ground, her energy bow slipping out of her grip. “What the...?”

The emergency lights started flickering violently, before exploding with a loud crackle and showering the bloody battlefield with sparks and broken glass. The remaining droids fell to the ground, one by one, some coughing up smoke as their hard drives melted and caught fire, other simply powering off. “...kriff?” the girl finished, as her eyes landed on her discarded weapon, fear gripping her heart. Her trusty bow, one that saved her life numerous times and has been at her side through thick and thin, was now flaring angrily, with its pinkish plasma eating through its limbs. She could feel her eyes tearing up, but she didn’t have the time to reminiscent over her fallen friend, as Crosshair’s rifle spat out a few stray bolts, one missing her by mere inches. Tech’s portable computer shut down without a warning, leaving him without his beloved gadget. A groan of surprise could be heard from Hunter, as his visor shortened out, leaving him momentarily blinded as he tried to rub away the sparks that danced in his eyes. Echo’s cybernetic legs gave out under his weight and if it wasn’t for Rex, he would’ve fallen to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

They looked at each other in fear and confusion, as their equipment continued to malfunction in strange and unexpected ways.

That’s when they heard something.

Footsteps. Slow and deliberate, echoing through the dark hallway, the sound distorting as it bounced off the steel walls. Faint whispers carried by the wind tickled their ears, the voices angry, hateful, hissing and spitting indistinguishably from one another. The metal screeched and groaned, like the whole building was about to fall over, the sound reverberating through their skulls.

And then, out of the darkness, stepped a man.

Tall, dressed in black, red and grey, with a black kama wrapped around his waist, its edges torn and damaged from past battles. His armor greatly detailed and complicated, light yet strong and durable, highlighting his body and posture, with numerous belts holding everything in place. Where the man’s face should be, a black steel mask greeted them, with red markings decorating it around the visor and down the cheeks, like bloody tears. It couldn’t be any more obvious that the person standing before them was a Sith Lord. Hunter reached for his knife, only for the Sith to flick his wrist and send Wrecker crashing into the sergeant, slamming the two against the metal railing of the bridge, teetering dangerously close to the molten lava below. Rex growled in anger and aimed his pistols, but the air grew thick with acrid scent of burning metal and the clone realized, with horror, that his twin blasters were melting in his hands. “H-how?” he stammered, dropping the now useless weapons to the ground. “Fall back!” Tech yelled, scrambling to his feet and helping Omega up. “Now!” He didn’t have to say it twice, as Wrecker jumped to his feet and grabbed Echo, throwing him over his shoulder like a rag doll. “Go, go, go!”

The whispers grew louder, like a choir of demons singing their praises to some unseen deity, as the Sith continued to saunter towards them, lightsaber in hand. “Fucking go!” Crosshair yelled, his cold and cool demeanor nowhere in sight as he pushed Hunter, prompting him to move. “What are you waiting for?!” The Bad Batch broke into a run, but they didn’t even make it past the bridge, as the Sith charged at them. Rex, who was closing their escape, yelped in surprise and dodged, the lightsaber’s blade nearly taking off his head. He stumbled back and found himself cut off from the rest, with the fallen Jedi blocking his path.

He gritted his teeth as the Sith went after him like a rabid dog, the red sword cutting through the air with a loud whooshing sound. He barely had the time to raise his arm and deflect it with his gauntlet, the impact so jarring that it sent a wave of pain through his forearm, all the way from his elbow to the tips of his fingers. With an angry yell, the Sith turned and hit the clone in the face with so much strength that it cracked the visor in Rex’s helmet, the glass shards cutting his face. The clone grunted in pain, stumbling back, as his opponent continued with his merciless attack, the lightsaber hissing at it once again made contact with the beskar armor. The clone tried to fight back, but it was like hitting a brick wall with a stick. The Sith moved with unnatural speed and strength, making it nearly impossible to keep up with the onslaught. The fallen Jedi’s hand shot out, the Force slamming into Rex and throwing him to the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs. He hit the metal of the bridge with a sickening crack, pain shooting through his body as his helmet slip off his head, sliding across the floor. Blood streamed down the right side of his face, mixing with the sweat and tears as he looked up to see the Sith standing over him, his saber raised, ready to strike. In a blind panic, Rex grabbed the last thing fixed to his belt - an old lightsaber. As the saber detached from his belt, Rex was greeted by a loud crackle and a burst of brilliant, blue light. He swung it recklessly, the blade connected with the lord���s face, cutting through the metal with a sickening screech. Pieces of flaming metal and tinted glass exploded in every direction, as the Sith stumbled away with an audible groan of pain, his hand pressed to the wound. Rex lifted himself up, not waiting for his opponent to regain his vision. Keeping his distance, he brandished the saber, trying to remember what his late lover taught him, all those years ago. His chest burned with pain, lungs screaming for air, eyes watering from the toxic fumes, yet, he did not have the time to get his bearings, as the Sith lord turned to face him.

The clone��s heart stopped.

Through the broken eyeshade of the man’s mask, he saw a glint of something... familiar. The cracked visor revealed just enough of the Sith’s face for Rex to recognize the person standing in front of him. It was as if he was looking at a ghost, a memory of his past that he thought was long buried.

“...Ani?” he choked out, lowering his weapon. The Sith seemed to falter slightly, his brow furrowing in surprise and confusion, only now taking the time to study his opponent’s face, a hint of recognition in his eyes. For just a split of a second, everything went quiet. The whispers died out, the winds slowed down, even the volcanic eruptions stopped mid explosion.

This couldn’t be true. Rex knew that it wasn’t possible.

Anakin was dead and has been for years. He died on Coruscant, at the hands of Sidious, nearly a decade ago.

The clone saw the destroyed Chancellor’s suite with his own eyes, the burn marks left by lightning and the shattered windows stained with blood. He was there, during the funeral and when the Council built a statue of the man, to honor Skywalker’s sacrifice.

The clone tried to convince himself that he was just seeing things. That he got a whiff of the fumes and was now hallucinating the man standing in front of him.

But the eyes staring back at him were the same as the ones that haunted his dreams, the same as the ones he saw when he closed his own. The person hidden behind the mask was the one he had loved and lost, the one he saw every time he was on Coruscant, in the Jedi Temple’s courtyard. He knew, deep down, that no hallucination could map out all the details of his lover’s face. The scar over his eye, the very one Rex would kiss as they woke up in bed. The curve of cheekbone, the same one Rex would trace over with his thumb during those quiet and short moments they had in between battles.

Both men were frozen in place and time, like the world around them ceased to exist, like they were the only two left in the entire universe. It was only them and the platform they were standing on. Rex could feel the heat of the lava below, the toxic air burning his lungs and eating through their membrane, but he didn’t move an inch. All he could do was look at the man he had loved, the man he thought he has lost forever.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to beg and plead for it not to be true, for it all to be a cruel nightmare, a trick of his imagination...

The fallen Jedi shook his head, as if to clear his mind from a haze, before looking up at Rex with anger, fury even. He lunged at the clone and their sabers connected with a loud crack, showering the two men with sparks. The plasma blades screeched and groaned against each other, as they fought for dominance, trying to gain extra ground. The men traded blows, their lightsabers creating a blur of blue and red. The ground shook beneath their feet as the seismic activities grew stronger, more violent.

The clone was able to push his enemy back before hitting him in the face, cracking the mask clean off. The Sith took a shaky step back, blood trickling down his face, before swinging his weapon in a wide arc.

Rex parried the hit and, with, tears blurring his vision, he reached out, grabbing Anakin by the arm and trying to wrench the weapon out of his grasp. “Anakin, stop!” he yelled, his grip tightening on the black sleeve of the Sith’s robe as they continued to wrestle. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, what his next move could possibly be. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all.

Now, up close and without the mask, he could see the man’s face clearly : mangled and scarred. His hair was longer, eyes more sunken, making his face look nearly skeletal, but it was him, without a shadow of a doubt. “You left me to die, Rex!” the man yelled in response, his words ringing over the explosions and wind. “You all did!” Rex could feel the blood draining from his face and his heart breaking into a million little pieces at the sound of his lover’s voice. “Ani, I...!” he tried to deny it, to defend himself, but the Sith cut him off with a vicious kick to the chest, sending him tumbling backwards to the ground. The lightsaber slipped from his grasp, sliding across the floor and out of reach. He struggled to get back up, his body aching and vision spinning, coughing violently, the vapors scratching at his throat and forcing tears out of his eyes. He could hear footsteps approaching and the hum of the lightsaber, as the fallen Jedi raised his weapon, ready to deliver the final blow. Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the Marauder descended upon the battlefield, the ship’s laser cannons firing at the Sith, kicking up debris and forcing him back, creating a barrier of fire between him and the injured clone. Rex looked over his shoulder, to see Echo standing on the entry ramp of the ship, as it hovered a few feet off the ground. “Get in!” the cyborg yelled, reaching out for his brother. “C’mon!” But Rex hesitated. He turned to look at the Sith, his heart sinking. Anakin stood at the other end of the platform, his gaze wild and filled with hate, pain, animalistic fury. “You did this to me!” he roared, his voice distorting and warping to the point that it could no longer be recognized as human. The wind picked up, tearing at his clothes and hair, throwing ash and smoke up into the air. The disembodied voices were now wailing, cackling, howling. “Ani, please!” Rex could feel tears streaming down his face. “Come back to us!” “Oh, Rex...” he chuckled mockingly. It was a sad, nearly pitiful sound. And as their world continued to fall apart around them, with waves of scalding hot liquid crashing against the supports of the bridge, eating through the metal like it was nothing, with the pieces of the bridge breaking off and falling into the ocean of lava, their eyes locked. And as the ground split apart, molten lava spewing like a geyser, the heat and fumes threatening to suffocate them, Anakin... smirked.

“...you are the one who left.”

[bolithesenate]

@charmwasjess consider yourself warned, this is a fic that, if/when i post it on ao3, it will need so many warnings

i don't even know where this all came from because i sure was in a MOOD when i started writing this and it is VERY different from basically all my other stuff.

putting it under the cut because neither Dooku nor Sy are having a happy fun time right now and that stays the same for most of the fic (i have not yet decided how it will end)

premise of it all is that Sifo didn't fully die after being shot down and Dooku still does the Dooku thing of keeping him in a cryopod in his basement, only Sy eventually wakes up and well... is confronted with his best friend, his dear heart, his secret love having Fallen so far from the path.

And Dooku is confronted with Sifo returned from the grave and he's had him killed him already once (for all that it was worth), there is no way he can do it a second time

or is there?

Dooku lay before him on the floor, face warped in pain and clutching one hand over the large electrical burn spidering over the side of his neck and jaw where Sifo had hit him. 

Oh.

Not a droid.

No wonder that one had lasted so long.

Sifo stepped above him, loosely pointing the crackling end of the electrostaff right at Doo's jugular. It would be so tremendously easy to just… push down, push out. 

The warping purple electricity reflected off Dooku's dark eyes, like fireworks in the night. That was one thing Sifo had noticed. Dark eyes, never Sith-yellow. He wondered why that was. Probably some sort of Sith-alchemy, or even just lenses (it wasn't, they were Doo's eyes, the same eyes he'd been staring into ever since he'd been a Youngling in the Crèches).

There was no contempt in those eyes, no struggle. Just acceptance and relief.

Relief.

Laughter didn't as much tear itself from but through Sy's throat.

Relief? Dooku wanted relief? Through death?

Not by his hand.

Disgusted, he threw the staff to the ground, where it clattered lifelessly to the side as Sy let himself fall down right over Dooku's midsection, straddling him once more in a by that point well-rehearsed motion. They were both drenched in sweat, an indication that they must have been here fighting longer than he'd thought. 

It was so funny, in an ironic way, how their current predicament perfectly mirrored their nights, just with both of them actually wearing clothes.

"Oh, Doo," Sifo whispered hoarsely and reached out to press the tips of his fingers onto the fresh burn marks, caught somewhere between gentleness and cruelty, "Did you really think that salvation would come that easily?"

"No," Dooku admitted.

"You're right it doesn't." Sifo's voice dropped. Then, he curled his hand into a vicious claw and pressed down. Dooku's scream was just as hot and scalding as the soft skin of his neck that only just was starting to blister. 

Sifo dipped down and licked into his open mouth, swallowing up all the pain and fury the other man let out – pain and fury Sifo was causing. It shouldn’t have been so exhilarating, being the cause of such turmoil in someone so Dark.

And yet…

And yet.

Dooku buckled under him, writhing. He could have thrown him off, Sifo was sure of that. The Sith had twice the strength and triple the motive to just do away with him – that was if he could break the spell Sifo had on his body. He ground down on Dooku’s lap. It was the one weapon he had, the one tool against this fool. The Sith desired him, wished to break him completely, wished for him to break him in return.

He could do that.

They had already proven that they were great at it, even.

No need for a bed when there was the slightly padded floor of the training room.

Sifo moved his face, dragging his lips along Dooku’s jawline until he reached his ear. “You may never accuse me of such infidelity again.” His voice came out strangely sweet, a complete antithesis to the venom he felt boiling in his heart. “We can be monsters, but only for each other.” It was just as much of a statement as it was a promise. He tightened his hand on Dooku’s throat even more and a silent gasp was his reward.

[ladyxskywalker]

NOV 2022

fandoms featured on this list: star wars, rogue one, andor, moon knight, pedro pascal, triple frontier, multi. fandom

* coffee fund *

thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

please assume that all works & the blogs they belong to are 18+ only

mature adult content will be marked with a double asterisk **

be sure to check all warnings & tags before reading, feel free to skip if something isn't for you

& of course, enjoy responsibly

all the love xo A ☕

** I have been taking a little break from the blog, so the Nov & Dec reading list will be a little shorter than usual. There are some really great finds here that I think you will love ! Hope you will stick around xo **

hope you enjoy ! & happy reading ! 🤗

please send me things to read ! favorite fics or something you've written that you're proud of ! 💌

find more monthly fic recs over on my masterlist, Dec 2022 coming soon ! ✨

please let me know if you would like to be removed

✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

STAR WARS

✨ Anakin Skywalker

Making Out with Ani by @laserbrains (gn!reader) **

✨ Din Djarin

Din Djarin helping with your fear of animals by @archieimagines (cw: fear, anxiety, banthas)

Feel It by @ezrasbirdie (din x cobb) **

Grogu’s Teacher (series) by @firstofficerwiggles (f!reader)

Oceans in the Desert by @wyn-n-tonic (cw: grief, loss)

Ranting to Din while he repairs the Razor Crest by @archieimagines

Shatter Me (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader) (a season two divergent series)

Touching Din by @archieimagines (sfw touching, angst)

✨ Fennec Shand

Indigo by @artemiseamoon (modern, cinderella, fairytale au) (prince!fennec x ofc)

✨ Luke Skywalker

Shower/Bath Sex with Luke by @laserbrains (afab!reader) **

✨ Obi Wan Kenobi

Crystal Clear by @hellotherekenobi (gn!reader) (cw: battle, injuries, anxiety)

First Lady by @tropodyn (sith!obi wan) (f!reader) (link no longer available 😭)

Stardust (And Other Varieties) by @wickedscribbles (cis afab reader) (cw: implied age gap, force bone, library, mature adult content) **

Temptation’s Kiss by @hellotherekenobi

✨ Poe Dameron

Alright, That Happened by @dreamlandcreations (cw: hair pulling, kinktober) **

Survive Now, Then Flirt by @flightlessangelwings (cw: mild violence, angst) (gn!reader)

You Are In Love (series) by @alwritey-aphrodite (modern au) (f!reader)

ANDOR

✨ Cassian Andor

Hold Me Through the Storm by @archieimagines

✨ Kino Loy

Hoping Against Hope by @saradika (kino loy x wife!oc) **

✨ Ruescott Melshi

Before. When. After. by @littlemisspascal (a three part prison /narkina 5 au) (f!reader) **

MOON KNIGHT

✨ Marc Spector

Helping Marc Through a Panic Attack by @archieimagines (cw: grief, panic, anxiety, nightmares, DID, ptsd, angst)

Marc Winking At You In Public by @archieimagines

✨ Steven Grant

Asking Steven Out to Dinner by @archieimagines

Complaining to Steven About Work by @archieimagines

Dream A Little Dream of Me by @redahlia-writes (f!reader) (fake dating, christmas time)

I’m Right Next Door by @flightlessangelwings (gn!reader)

I’m Yours by @in-between-the-cafes (f!reader)

PEDRO PASCAL

✨ Ezra (Prospect)

Love you, endlessly by @artemiseamoon (ofc) (read in full on ao3)

✨ Frankie Morales

Seen by @clydesducktape (werewolf au) (f!reader)

✨ Misc. Pedro Characters

How Did You Love (series) by @writeforfandoms

TRIPLE FRONTIER

✨ Benny Miller

A Fall Getaway by @artemiseamoon (f!reader) (read in full on ao3)

MISC./MULTI FANDOM

✨ The Amazing Spider Man

Keeping Secrets by @luveline (cw: blood, injuries)

✨ Black Pather: Wakanda Forever

(** may contain spoilers **)

Namor the Sub-Mariner

My Queen, My Sun and My Sea by @mooncleaver (f!talokan!reader) (cw: death, colonizers)

✨️ The Originals / The Vampire Diaries

An Act That Brought You Joy (series) by Merontheshore on ao3 (elena gilbert x the originals) **

✨ Werewolf by Night

Jack Russell

Night Crawling (series) by @moonlight-prose (f!reader)

[feralstemgirl]

Ch. 11 of TKAM is now up on AO3! as an apology for how long it took and also just bc i feel like it, here's the OG version that i had to scrap:

 “The Sith in the Senate is the Chancellor.” Shaak breathes, her voice dripping with horror. 

Skywalker’s eyes are shards of blue ice as he looks at the Council. “He is.” Skywalker agrees. “He wishes to raze the Jedi and the Republic to the ground and build an Empire of Darkness on their ashes.” 

Skywalker drops down to one knee - this time, not in despair, but in the way a padawan kneels to be knighted. An offering. Plo feels the Force swell and rise - not Dark but not Light ether, just pure power. The eopie lamb turned to a nexu on the hunt. “I have been told that a Jedi does what is right, even when it is hard, even when the chance for death is greater than the chance for success, even when the cost of failure is a fate worse than death. I am no Jedi, but I choose to pledge myself to you in defense of the Republic and the Jedi Order.” 

Skywalker’s sincerity bleeds into the Force, a bloody wound barely beginning to heal, ripped open over and over again. Everything about this boy is bloody and wounded and strong despite it all. 

“Accept your offer, we do, young Skywalker.” Master Yoda finally says in the burgeoning silence. “A Jedi, you may not be, but the heart of one, you have.” 

Skywalker blinks rapidly, his eyes becoming suspiciously glossy. At his side, Kenobi offers him a hand up. “Up off your knees now, young one. I know you’re tired but the fight’s not finished yet.” Kenobi says with a soft smile. 

Skywalker laughs wetly and accepts the hand, letting Kenobi pull him to his feet. “When all of this is over, I’m going to sleep for a year, Obi-Wan.” 

“I certainly won’t stop you.” Kenobi says, his smile turning mischievous. “In fact, I just might join you. But for now, duty calls.” And Kenobi turns back to the rest of the Council, all business. “We’ll need to act swiftly, Sidious is likely aware of Anakin’s defection by now, although hopefully he won’t have realized that Anakin has come to the Jedi.” 

“You know Sidious the best, are we strong enough to destroy him?” Mace asks and Skywalker hums, eyes flashing blue like the hottest fires and rimmed in a thin ring of molten gold. 

“No.” He says bluntly and Plo’s chest tightens. The Force rings with his honesty. “You are not. But Obi-Wan and I am.” 

Beside him, Kenobi blinks, jaw dropping just slightly. Clearly, he is just as surprised by Skywalker as the rest of them. 

Plo raises a hand, drawing those fiery eyes onto him, cutting like shattered glass. “That is audacious, bordering on reckless, young Skywalker.” He cautions. “You and Knight Kenobi are strong fighters, but even in your memories you remain terrified of Sidious, and Kenobi is still weak from his imprisonment. If you say the strongest warriors in the Order are not strong enough to defeat the Chancellor, how can we believe that you two are?” 

Skywalker smiles, feral and wild. “My mother used to tell me that courage is not the absence of fear but action in spite of it. I am afraid of my former master, of course I am, but I will act despite my fear. Why else would I have come here, knowing that I was walking into the spice-spider’s web?” Skywalker laughs, his Force presence surging and swaying, his posture shifting until it is no longer a far-too-young boy on one knee before them, but a predator, a many-toothed nexu cat on the prowl.

The look in Skywalker’s eyes is pure durasteel as he continues. “If you cannot trust in me, than you must trust in the Force. She commands that we will triumph.” He declares, reaching to press both hands to the ground, white light arcing from his fingertips like lightning. 

And suddenly the power surges, transformative, Skywalker is a conduit, a kyber crystal, a golden wire- Plo hears the singing of hyperspace, the screaming of stars dying and being reborn across the endless infinity of space, and the unmistakeable, thundering, bone-shaking, ear-splitting Voice of the Force: 

SKYWALKER AND KENOBI, THE TEAM, MY DYAD, MY CHOSEN AND CHOSEN, THEY WILL FIND THE POISON, KILL THE MYNOCK, AND HEAL THE INFECTED WOUND! 

Plo gasps as Skywalker withdraws his hands and the overwhelming, migraine-inducing power dims with it, leaving behind only echoes.

Skywalker rises to his feet, head held high and proud. “I was born of the power that flows through all of our veins, I am the son of the desert and the sandstorm, the wilderness and the open sky. I am the child of the Force. I am the Sith’ari, the Jed’ari, the Chosen One.” He laughs. “Master Koon, you called my words audacious and reckless, and it is true - I am reckless. I am audacious, reckless, bold, and emotional. I am the raging, star-swallowing Krayt come to forge my own destiny.” Skywalker declares, moving forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kenobi, brushing up against the older Jedi- not as if seeking reassurance, but in some instinctual movement, like he is reuniting with his other half. 

“And I am not alone. I will never be alone. For I am one half of a dyad. And beside me stands Obi-Wan Kenobi. If I am emotion, then he is control, he is the whetstone that sharpens my blade, the guiding star that my power sings to. He is poised, restrained, steady, he is the calm to my rage. He is unbroken and I am reforged and together we are a dyad of the Force, two made into one and one into two, we are Skywalker and Kenobi, unstoppable.” 

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Got some more :D

1: what apps do they like to use? I can see them using twitter & maybe TikTok; probably do silly videos on there.

2: did Nightwing & starfire, plus mar’i tried to hide their superhero identity from Jake? (Probably did the same before mar’i got her powers too.)

3: how would a starburst duo movie start?

4: besides spider-man, do they like other spider-man stuff like the venom movie?

5: do they play battle royale games? I can see them both playing Fortnite (& doing the dances both in & out of costumes) but Chris likes COD Warzone & Jake like apex legends.

6: silly question, since they are pre-teens almost & have girlfriends, what do they prefer: butts or boobs? or personality XD

Sorry for the wait @gothicghost2000 But Here we are XD

1. They have three primary social apps: YouTube (the first one respectively), Twitter and Tumblr. All three apps have specific tools The Duo can use for their particular hobbies and interests, Tumblr for example being the blog space where they can give their predicts and hypotheses about their favorite ongoing shows and where it can go from there.

YouTube is their video library place, for all sorts including live streams, recaps of favorite shows/games, and yes thank to the Shorts function, TikTok style videos. Chris and Jake thankfully have both Jake’s tech expertise and even Oracle on some occasions to help them make sure they don’t get busted for copyright by the algorithms.

2. Not entirely actually. Even as a toddler, Jake was a relatively smart cookie and everyone knew it so before he was able to piece it altogether by the time he was 3 to 4 in his own way, Dick and Kory came clean to him about everything and even Mar’i pitched in about her training to one day be a great superhero like Momma and Daddy are since she has powers while Jake’s are still not kicking in.

I can just imagine little Jakey looking at his family, taking it all in and then finally breaking the silence saying “Does that mean I blast lasers from my eyes too later?” Akin to when Marky found out his powers at the end did the original Invincible comic

3. Basically I’d have first a colorful and detailed title sequence that through simple comic panels and even some motion comic elements, details the basics of how the Duo were born, Chris’ arrival on Earth and adoption by the Kents, the two first meeting as little kids who look up to their parents as their heroes, Jake’s power first kicking in when fending off a bully at school, the Duo training on their powers together and gaining renown slow but steadily, then once the title scene ends, we open with a bang as we are catching up with the Duo in the middle of a massive superhero battle in Metropolis against all sorts of baddies and villains, something akin to the opening shots of Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith

4. They have a good laugh and thrill at the first and second Venom movies respectively. They also are big time fans of the Spiderverse films; there actually is a strongly passionate debate between Chris and Jake over which Spidey films are better. Chris vouches for the Raimi trilogy while Jake sides firmly with Spiderverse. Other than all that though, both also watch every single Spidey animated series, good or bad, collect what their friends online consider the best runs in both Marvel Prime and the Ultimate Universe (the latter Jake is really into thanks to his Uncle Tim(my) loving Ultimate Spidey) and regularly playing co op on the Playstation games

5. Only once a month really and it’s mainly Fortnite. I can’t really see them playing COD or Apex not just because those two are more FPS centric which even if fictional in universe doesn’t sit that well with them for various reasons, but also for COD especially there egregious money practices from all that miscellaneous DLC, Lootboxes when they are a thing, battle passes, etc. it just doesn’t sit right even if technically Jake can be considered a millionaire’s kid at best

6. Personality. Full stop. Even if they’re aware of the more scandalous and fanservice side of true love, they have the content of a female’s character above physical appearance of any kind. Chris and Jake respect girls and women, plain and simple.

[ospreyeamon]

Omelettes on the Roof

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Characters: Lys’trel (Sith Inquisitor), original slave characters

Content Warnings: Canon-Typical Slavery, Orbital Bombardment

The slaves walked down the middle of the streets of the darkened city. Nobody was above ground to stop them. There were soldiers somewhere – far away – manning ground to orbit defences. All the other Imperial citizens were in the shelters or had fled by speeder. A family of Talja foxes hurriedly crossed between laneways.

Blackout curtains and tinting smothered the windows. Only the dim red emergency lights had been left on. Lys’trel had never seen stars so bright. Her eyes poured over nebula and constellations she couldn’t name, searching for the Republic squadron of the sirens’ wailed warnings, as Delph’rina pulled her forward by the hand. She saw leather-winged otocalt but no star ships.

Or perhaps she did. One star was moving smoothly and swiftly while the others remained still around it. Was that a ship?

“Maybe, summer bud. Try not to worry. What will come will come.” Delph’rina’s lekku made a gesture of reassurance but her fingers tightened around Lys’trel’s.

Old Xannel called out in the Muttering Tongue from ahead of them, voice loud to be heard over the sirens. “Here here! Middle lyceum, middle building!”

Lys’trel translated for Yath Jarkey who was walking on Delph’rina’s other side. He was new and only spoke Basic and Ryl.

They turned off the street into the dim park surrounding a complex of three storey buildings. Shrubs edged paved paths that led off to a little garden on one side and a strangely shaped collection of bars and platforms on the other.

Lys’trel had never been inside a school before. She tried to imagine what it would be like full of children.

“Canteen unlocked!” said Old Xannel with triumph. “I knew that a lyceum would be our best bet,” Old Xannel continued slipping into Imperial Standard. “They haven’t changed at all since I was young – the locks are still terrible.” Old Xannel continued regaling Little Xannel and Storm Wind and Lan-Rao with tales of a free-born childhood spent learning music and sports and forbidden sweet bartering.

Somebody else had gotten to the kitchen before them; the doors were open, the cupboards were open, and there was a spilled box of something which crunched beneath Lys’trel’s feet spread across the floor. Lys’trel and the other children were set to work shutting the outside doors and attempting to pin coverings to the windows while Delph’rina, Old Xannel and the other grown-ups turned one of the lights on and began taking stock of what was left in the fridges.

It was a great haul. There was even fresh fruit to eat while the grown-ups argued about what to cook.

Lys’trel savoured every moment of every bite. The sweet smell as she brought the fruit up to her mouth. The feel of her teeth breaking through the thin skin to the flesh beneath. The sticky drip of the juice down her chin.

Old Xannel and Delph’rina made them wash their hands afterwards. They had decided to fry omelettes because there wasn’t enough time to bake anything.

She, Delph’rina and a few others took their omelettes and hot tea up to the roof of the building next to the kitchen. The roof was surrounded by a metal mesh cage but there were benches and even a water fountain around the side of the stairs. A glow-spider had strung a shining web in one corner.

It was cold but Lys’trel wanted to watch the sky. Delph’rina and others wanted that too.

Lys’trel ate her portion of the omelettes slowly, the bite of hunger having been sated earlier by the fruit. It was rich and good; egg and cheese and crunchy red vegetable.

While they feasted, she took in the view. From the top of the lyceum building, you could see the city centre to the west, towers and pyramids faintly outlined against the horizon. To the south were the important factories slaves never came out of on the rare occasions they were ordered in. To the north stood forested mountains part of their work group had decided to make towards, knowing they might never even reach the foothills.

The sky yawned above it all, a bright abyss. There were more ships moving now. Bright flashes. A star falling, breaking apart.

Delph’rina put her arm around Lys’trel as she licked the last traces of omelette from her fingers.

“Knew I might die in the war,” sighed Yath Jarkey, his lekku curled in grief. “Never thought it would be like this. No blaster in my hand, not an Imp in sight. Killed by our own people. But�� at least it’s not for nothing. No more bombs for the Imps.”

Lys’trel was overcome by tears. She was never going to find her mother. Delph’rina was never going to see her son Otho’rina again.

Delph’rina and Yath Jarkey were upset and speaking low and quick. She dug her nails into her palms, curled up and tried to muffle her sobs. It hurt. It hurt.

Suddenly, Delph’rina gasped, her fingers digging into Lys’trel’s shoulder. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

The eastern skyline had been pieced by burning light – fire red pocked with flashes of white. A grey shadow rose around it. Above, more lights streaked down towards the horizon.

“They got the depo.”

Sound crashed over them like the bursting of a pressure drum. The glow-spider and its web were thrown across the cage. Lys’trel vainly tried to muffle her ear-cones with her hands.

The dark cloud grew and grew, blotting out the starlight beyond it. Light silently bloomed inside it for several long seconds before fading away, gone completely before the noise of the impact reached them.

They waited and waited. Lys’trel realised she had stopped breathing, frozen in silence as if bombs were stalking predators that might be hidden from. The cloud plume in the east billowed up and out, ever larger, but no more explosions came.

In the morning the sky was dark with earth and smoke, the sunrise glorious. In the morning they were forced back to work by harried masters – futilely cleaning the settling dust that choked the air – while public holo-displays played footage of bodies lifted from the cracked ground of cities to the east. In the morning they were still alive.

[boo-moved]

On the topic of Star Wars, I really recommend the Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover, it's amazing.

Here's one of my favorite passages in the book:

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi in the light:

As he is prodded onto the bridge along with Anakin and Chancellor Palpatine, he has no need to look around to see the banks of control consoles tended by terrified Neimoidians. He doesn't need to turn his head to count the droidekas and super battle droids, or to gauge the positions of the brutal droid bodyguards. He doesn't bother to raise his eyes to meet the cold yellow stare fixed on him through a skull-mask of armorplast.

He doesn't even need to reach into the Force.

He has already let the Force reach into him.

The Force flows over him and around him as though he has stepped into a crystal-pure waterfall lost in the green coils of a forgotten rain forest; when he opens himself to heat sparkling stream it flows into him and through him and out again without the slightest interference from his conscious will. The part of him that calls itself Obi-Wan Kenobi is no more than a ripple, an eddy in the pool into which he endlessly pours.

There are other parts of him here, as well; there is nothing here that is not a part of him, from the scuff mark on R2-D2's dome to the tattered hem of Palpatine's robe, from the spidering crack in one transparisteel panel of the curving view wall above to the great starships that still battle beyond it.

Because this is all part of the Force.

Somehow, mysteriously, the cloud that has darkened the Force for near to decade and half has lightened around him now, and he finds within himself the limped clarity he recalls from his schooldays at the Jedi Temple, when the Force was pure, and clean, and perfect. It is as though the darkness has withdrawn, has coiled back upon itself, to allow him this moment of clarity, to return to him the full power of the light, if only for the moment; he does not know why, but he is incapable of even wondering. In the Force, he is beyond questions.

Why is meaningless; it is an echo of the past, or a whisper from the future. All that matters, for this infinite now, is what, and where, and who.

He is all sixteen of the super battle droids, gleaming in laser-reflective chrome, arms loaded with heavy blasters. He is those blasters and he is their targets. He is all eight destroyer droids waiting with electronic patience within their energy shields, and both bodyguards, and every single one of the shivering Neimoidians. He is their cloths, their boots, even each drop of reptile-scented moisture that rolls off them from the misting sprays they use to keep their internal temperatures down. He is the binders that cuff his hands, and he is the electrostaff in the hands of the bodyguard at his back.

He is both of the lightsabers that the other droid bodyguard marches forward to offer to General Grievious.

And he is the general himself.

He is the general's duranium ribs. He is the beating of Grievious's alien heart, and is the silent pulse of oxygen pumped through his alien veins. He is the weight of four lightsabers at the general's belt, and is the greedy anticipation the captured weapons sparked behind the general's eyes. He is even the plan for his own execution simmering within the general's brain.

He is all of these things, but most important, he is still Obi-Wan Kenobi.

This is why he can simply stand. Why he can simply wait. He has no need to attack, or to defend. There will be battle here, but he is perfectly at ease, perfectly content to let the battle start when it will start, and let it end when it will end.

Just as he will let himself live, or let himself die.

This is how a great Jedi makes war.

General Grievious lifted the two lightsabers, one in each duranium hand, to admire them by the light of turbolaser blasts outside, and said, "Rare trophies, these: the weapon of Anakin Skywalker, and the weapon of General Kenobi. I look forward to adding them to my collection."

"That will not happen. I am in control here." The reply through Obi-Wan's lips, but it was not truly Obi-Wan who spoke. Obi-Wan was not in control; he had no need for control. He had the Force.

It was the Force that spoke through him. Grievious stalked forward. Obi-Wan saw death in the cold yellow stare through the skull-mask's eyeholes, and it meant nothing to him at all.

There was no death. There was only the Force. He didn't have to tell Anakin to subtly nudle Chancellor Palpatine out of the line of fire; part of him was Anakin, and was doing this already. He didn't have to tell R2-D2 to access its combat subprograms and divert power to its booster rockets, claw-arm, and cable gun; part of him that was the little astromech has seen to all of these things before they had even entered the bridge.

Grievious towered over him. "So confident you are, Kenobi."

"Not confident, merely calm." From so close, Obi-Wan could see the hairline cracks and pitting in the bone-pale mask and could feel the resonance of the general's electrosonic voice humming in his chest. He remembered the question of Master Jrul: What is the good, if not the teacher of the bad? What is the bad if not the task of the good?

He said. "We can resolve this situation without further violence. I am willing to accept your surrender."

"I'm sure you are." The skull-mask tilted inquisitively. "Does this preposterous I-will-accept-your-surrender line of yours ever actually work?"

"Sometimes. When it doesn't, people get hurt. Sometimes they die." Obi-Wan's blue-gray eyes met squarely those of yellow behind the mask. "By people, in this case, you should understand that I mean you."

"I understand enough. I understand that I will kill you." Grievious threw back his cloak and ignited both lightsabers. "Here. Now. With your own blade"

The Force replied through Obi-Wan's lips. "I don't think so."

The electrodrivers that powered Grievious's limbs could move faster than the human eye can see; when he swung his arm, it and his fist and the lightsaber within it would literally vanish: wiped from existence by sheer mind-numbing speed, an imitation quantum event. No human being could move remotely as fast Grievious, not even Obi-Wan-- but he didn't have to.

In the Force, part of him was Grievious's intent to slaughter, and the surge from intent to action translated to Obi-Wan's response without thought. He had no need for a plan, no use for tactics.

He had the Force.

That sparkling waterfall coursed through him, washing away any thought of danger, or safety, of winning or losing. The Force, like water, takes on the shape of its container without effort, without thought. The water that was Obi-Wan poured itself into the container that was Grievious's attack, and while some materials might be water-tight, Obi-Wan had yet to encounter any that were entire, as it were, Force-tight...

While the intent to swing was still forming in Grievious's mind, the part of the Force that was Obi-Wan was also part of the Force that was R2-D2, as well as an internal fusion-welder Anakin had retrofitted into R2-D2's primary grappling arm, and so there was no need for actual communication between them; it was only Obi-Wan's personal sense of style that brought his customary gentle smile to his face and his customary gentle murmur to his lips. "Artoo?"

Even as he opened his mouth, a panel was sliding aside in the little droid's fuselage; by the time the droid's nickname had left his lips, the fusion-welder had deployed and fired a blinding spray of sparks hot enough to melt duranium, and in the quarter of a second while even Grievous's electronically enhanced reflexes had him startled and distracted, the part of the Force that was Obi-Wan tried a little trick, a secret one that it had been saving up for just such an occasion as this.

Because all there on the bridge was one in the Force, from the gross structure of the ship itself to the quantum dance of the electron shell so individual atoms--and because, after all, the nerves and muscle of the bio-droid general were creations of electronics and duranium, not living tissue with a will of its own-- it was just barely possible that with exactly the right twist of his mind, in that one vulnerable quarter of a second while Grievous was distracted, flinching backward from a spray of flame hot enough to burn even his armored body, Obi-Wan might be able to temporarily reverse the polarity of the electrodrivers in the general's mechanical hands.

Which is exactly what he did.

Durasteel fingers sprang open, and two lightsabers fell free.

He reached through the Force and the Force reached through him, his blade flared to life while still in the air, it flipped toward him, and as he lifted his hands to meet it, its blue flame flashed between his wrists and severed the binds before the handgrip smacked solidly into his palm.

He made a quarter of a turn to face Anakin, who was already in the air, having leaped simultaneously with Obi-Wan's gentle murmur because Obi-Wan and Anakin were, after all, two parts of the same thing; Anakin's flip carried him over Obi-Wan's head at the perfect range for Obi-Wan's blade to flick out and burn through his partner's binders, and while Grievous was still flinching away from the fountain of fusion fire, Anakin landed with his own hand extended; Obi-Wan felt a liquid surge in the waterfall that he was, and Anakin's lightsaber sang through the air and Anakin caught it, and so, one single second after Grievous had begun to summon the intent to swing, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker stood back-to-back in the center of the bridge, expressionlessly staring past the snarling blue of energy of their lightsabers.

Obi-Wan regarded with general without emotion. "Perhaps you should reconsider my offer."

THE FACT THAT NOT EVERYONE HAS READ THE NOVELS IS!!!! I LOVE THIS THANK YOU

[randomlywanderingmoth]

It was certainly one way to stave off boredom.

The ear piercing shriek sent a good number of Servants running- or flying, in Melusine’s case. “What’s going on? Are we-” her mind moved as fast as her mouth. In the corner of the room was a box, lid open, covered in bugs, all ablaze with her queen’s magic flames.

The second into the room was Barghest, holding Baoban Sith in a princess carry, who tumbled out of the knight’s grasp to hug her wailing mother. She growled, scraping at her horn... before lowering her hand. “Where. Is. Oberon.”

The third into the room was the last Master of Humanity, somehow faster there than either Medusa or Achilles. “I heard a scream, is everything-” and now it was her turn to see the smoldering pile. “... oh for crying out loud...”

The best way to describe an Oberon in motion is to imagine a man who had only ever heard of a brisk jog, now attempting to replicate it. For what it’s worth, he did a remarkable job managing to outpace the Tam Lin. A Singularity in Britain’s woods was remarkably helpful, given the strict orders to not cause more wreckage to the Singularity than the Singularity itself.

========================

The fae king slipped Melusine by turning a corner and shrinking down before she caught up, leaving her blasting off into the forest. Slipping Barghest was a simple matter of speed, taking to an insect mount that would not need to deal with the uneven ground and outrunning her. He could hear her roars behind him, and cackled.

What perhaps he wasn’t expecting was to suddenly get caught, tangled, as though on a spider’s web.

Baoban Sith stepped out from behind a tree.

“Neat trick,” he grumbled, knowing better than to revert to his full size while snared by wires this strong.

“And here I thought you could only speak in lies~” Baoban sang back, playing with her shortbow.

“Not true, watch. You’re a stupid little brat. See?”

Oberon’s snark was cut off with several cuts. He was more surprised, than pained, though, given Baoban Sith hadn’t touched her bow. The littlest fairy, then. It would explain the string currently binding him.

Out from behind another tree stepped a different answer- Tristan. Not a Tam Lin, but the knight whose name the girl now beside him once stole. “Over the line,” he declared with a level tone.

“What? Calling her a stupid little brat? Can’t you tell when I’m lying?” Oberon presented a cheshire grin.

“The insects for Morgan.” There was something remarkably quaint about a Knight of the Round Table, ostensibly Morgan’s greatest foe, working in her interests. It was more worrying that a normally very poetic individual like Tristan was being curt.

Not that Oberon could be worried by something like that. “She hangs out with insects like you all the time, I didn’t think she’d mind-” perfect interruption, one high-speed fist into his shrunken form. The wires mercifully dispelled, leaving Oberon at full size under the little living jet fighter, Melusine’s fist pressed firm against his ribs. Small mercy they didn’t shatter.

“Excuse me-” and it all stopped. Baoban and Tristan, fingers on bowstrings. Barghest, skidding to a stop before she could swing down her titanic sword. Melusine, arm back and ready to slug Oberon again.

The source of the voice leaned against a tree, having sprinted here, a bob of more softly red hair than the two with bowstrings, a short ponytail tied up to one side.

Fujimaru Ritsuka stared softly in Oberon’s general direction (more like stared generally at the scene), and pursed her lips. “You did go over a line, a little, Oberon.”

“A LITTLE?!?” Well it’s good to know Barghest’s lungs still worked. “Morgan is still traumatized! Habetrot is tending to her now! I should burn him like I burned his blasted woods!”

The Master shot Barghest a look. It was remarkable how easily such a daintly little girl could rein in history and fantasy’s greatest monsters, how easily just a soft glance could cool Barghest’s flames.

“Wow, you *are* pathetic. I expect you to turn your sword over at-”

“Oberon.” Right. Of course Master wouldn’t side with him. Nobody would side with him. He was the villain of this story, after all. Nobody should side with him.

The lack of words, as the little redhead stepped over roots and fallen branches, to squat down next to him, in such a disarmed way, and as Melusine dismounted his torso, was... “Disgusting.” He couldn’t keep it to himself.

“You have no kingly presence. You’re no divine spirit, no name to set on the Throne of Heroes. And yet here is a group of people, all your betters, dancing to your tune like a circus of flying monkeys. You’re just some pathetic, ordinary girl.”

“And here is someone who reminds me that I am only that,” Fujimaru responded with a gentle smile. Every other person there grimaced, including Oberon. Likely for different reasons.

Oberon sat up to glare at her. “Let me guess, I need to not antagonize anyone, I need to be the perfect little flower child like you. Perfectly bland like flavorless yogurt, some gross, miserable wretch that can’t even bring herself to use a Command Seal to make her pettier Servants tow the line.”

Her Command Seals did not glow.

“You don’t want to kill me. You don’t even want to punish me. You’re some trite little child that can’t bring herself to do what needs to be done, just because you think-”

Her response was wordless, taking his clawed gauntlet, lifting his arm, and pressing the claws against her own neck. Every knight at the scene tensed.

It would take him nothing to squeeze. She stared at him, with those eyes. Soft. Trusting.

He let his arm drop, and dusted himself. “You’re too pathetic to even kill,” he growled.

She took his clawed hand a second time, and pressed it back up to her neck. This time he didn’t drop his hand. “Do you want to die?”

“I want you to do what you want to do.” Show me your feelings, don’t tell me, she was saying with as many words.

Tristan and Baoban Sith had their bowstrings at the ready.

Melusine could take his head off the moment hers rolled.

Barghest’s flames were stoking back up.

And none of it mattered.

Oberon’s hand lowered again. “Ruined my mood,” he grumbled, standing up. “Ruined my fun. Come collect me when it’s time to farm. At least there I can torment things without you judging me.”

“Chen Gong’ll be there too,” she calls as he strides away.

“... farming with Chen Gong? Really?” Barghest seemed startled by it. “that seems...” she stopped herself from saying extreme, given her sword had just stopped burning.

“Well, if he wants to be punished,” the little redheaded Master responded.

That seemed to take Melusine and Baoban Sith also off edge.

=========================

That left the Tam Lin to head home, Oberon to find a corner to sulk in, and Tristan and Fujimaru, standing in a wooded forest.

Seconds passed. Tristan spoke up. “How did you know he wouldn’t kill you?”

Fujimaru glanced over at Tristan with a curious expression. Her lips parted, then she paused a moment. “He can’t be honest, even with himself. It’s a part of his burden as who he is.”

“So when he said you’re too pathetic to kill, he meant he didn’t want to kill you?”

The shorter redhead shrugged and started walking. “There’s nuance to it, but I figured as much. I figure forcing him to acknowledge himself is a punishment that should take where farming with Chen Gong doesn’t.”

Tristan nodded, then paused. “... you’re still going to punish him with Chen Gong farming, aren’t you.”

“Just a few golden apple’s worth of doors,” she wryly replies, a skip in her step.

oberon gifts morgan a gift of just bugs. Now he’s being chased by the faerie knights and now gudako must at least stop them from murdering oberon for his antics

Uh oh sisters!

[raven-of-domain-kwaad]

Character models getting force pushed will always be funny. 

Here we have Canja apparently after being bitten by a radioactive spider and testing out her new web slinging and wall crawling powers.

[redbean-nom]

yeah, I was just watching that episode - based on his brothers being named Savage and Feral I'm assuming either

he's lying to Ezra (same with all the "oh no... definitely no sith here... I'm just interested totally not an ex-sith lord...." stuff)

he genuinely forgot his early life after the whole spider-maul trauma and doesn't know if that's his real name (it probably is, but the only people who can confirm that are dead)

or "Maul" is just the anglicization (Basicization? idk) of a even more over the top dathomirian name, which he does not remember

love that maul's the only sith who didn't have to get a fancy new Dramatic Sith Name because his birth name is literally Maul Opress