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cardiac-arresting-sweetheart · 5 months ago

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Yandere Enneagram: The 27 Tritypes

please reblog. i'm begging you. this took 4 hours... open this link for the google document version open this link for the personality test for this system

Overview

Inspired by Enneagram Tritypes, I made this yandere theory system! It's just for fun, but feel free to type yourself or characters in it.

This is based on the idea that there are 3 centers to the Enneagram: the gut, the head, and the heart. They're made up of the 8, 9, 1, then 5, 6, 7, and 2, 3, 4 types respectively. The tritype is then all of the traits of one type from each center combined.

Some of the traits are negative and may not apply to a more healthy yandere, while some might be too positive for a more unhealthy yandere. It cannot describe the yandere 100% accurately, however, it can give a good description of their behavior.

The explanations will be explained in how each type interacts with each other in the tritype.

Terms

Core: Your main type.

Fix: Your secondary/tertiary type, one of the other 2 numbers in your tritype besides your core.

125 - The Guardian Angel

1+2: ♡ Stressed about darling's safety ♡ "I CAN FIX THEM" ♡ Critical ♡ Has a very specific ideal for darling ♡ Attracted to troubled darlings ♡ Feels like it's only right to interfere with darling's life, whatever that means to them ♡ Self-righteous ♡ Martyr ♡ Needs validation from darling despite how they may act ♡ Acts of service ♡ 1 fix can help core 2 be more careful about their actions/be more rational ♡ 2 fix can help core 1 be less brash and more emotionally comforting

1+5: ♡ Very meticulous ♡ A planner and a stalker ♡ Still somewhat critical despite idealizing nature of 5 fix ♡ Struggles with the touchy-feely part of relationship ♡ Often too cold ♡ Emotionally aloof ♡ Especially intimidating when angry ♡ Curious about darling ♡ Can seem like they're interrogating darling at times with their curiosity ♡ Perfectionist ♡ 5 fix can help 1 core see darling less critically ♡ 1 fix can help 5 core be more persistent and less susceptible to surrender

2+5: ♡ Needs alone time despite craving attention from darling ♡ Covert obsession ♡ Would set up cameras in darling's room and/or watch them at all times ♡ Needs to know they're safe and content ♡ Asks darling so many questions and wants to know exactly how they feel ♡ Keeps their true intentions hidden ♡ Interested in darling's connections with other people ♡ Likes to give advice to darling and to be of service ♡ Really, really loves analyzing darling ♡ Love letters and love poetry enjoyer ♡ 2 fix can help 5 core interact with darling more ♡ 5 fix can help 2 core become less suffocating to darling

126 - The Martyr

1+6: ♡ Very strict ♡ Wants to be aware of what darling is doing, not out of curiosity like 5, but out of fear ♡ Rigid expectations; will panic if they fail to follow their expectations or act differently ♡ Extremely controlling due to need for security and ♡ Criticism + paranoia = becomes very angry if they see something "wrong" with darling ♡ Imagines problems that don't exist and becomes upset about them ♡ Especially hateful of everyone darling interacts with ♡ 1 fix can help core 6 focus on an ideal and focus on something rather than irrational anxieties ♡ 6 fix can help core 1 be less harsh and more lovey-dovey

2+6: ♡ Strong desire to be of service to darling ♡ Most anxious about making a mistake and hurting darling rather than helping ♡ Hates hates hates being alone and separated from darling the most; most clingy and needy ♡ Needs security and plenty of "I love you"s ♡ Needy. Did I mention needy? ♡ Forgets their own needs and instead focuses on darling's ♡ Needs to be important to darling ♡ Becomes very flustered and upset if they don't know how to help darling ♡ Hates it when other people help darling with anything ♡ Often self-sacrifical for darling but not humble about it, at least not internally ♡ 6 fix can help 2 core be more understanding of darling and think things through more carefully rather than only seeking affection; helps 2 be more thoughtful ♡ 2 fix can help 6 core feel more of a specific purpose, to help darling

127 - The Savior

1+7: ♡ Very idealistic ♡ Focused on a dream/perfect world ♡ Serious but also enthusiastic ♡ Can get quickly bored of darlings if they aren't "good enough" ♡ Loves giving gifts to darling ♡ Unpredictable emotions; prone to anger issues ♡ Unpredictable and somewhat random in general despite desire for structure and control; 7 conflicts with 1 ♡ Likes to plan trips and dates in detail ♡ Romanticizes darling and gets upset if they don't match the ideal they have for them ♡ Desires perfection ♡ In love with the idea of darling ♡ 7 fix can help 1 core be less strict, demanding, and critical ♡ 1 fix can help 7 core focus and be more structured

2+7: ♡ Very social, even with those that aren't darling (but especially with darling) ♡ Possibly a bit delusional in likely thinking that darling is obsessed with them as well ♡ Friendly and upbeat ♡ More likely to compromise with others that get in their way of darling rather than act in a manner that is emotionally-charged ♡ Manipulative; love-bombs darling and even others ♡ Likes messing with darling and teasing them ♡ Extremely affectionate ♡ Probably enjoys physical touch ♡ Fantasizes about saving darling from danger ♡ 2 fix can help core 7 be more caring about darling's wellbeing ♡ 7 fix can help core 2 relax

135 - The Perfectionist

1+3: ♡ Strong desire to have a positive image of and with darling ♡ Needs a perfect relationship ♡ 2 wing is especially likely to sabotage darling then try to "fix" things ♡ Needs... everything to be perfect ♡ Sensitive ♡ Will completely break down if darling criticizes them; more likely sadly if 3 core, more likely angrily if 1 core ♡ Identifies with relationship with darling ♡ Expects darling and themself to be perfect ♡ Especially critical of who darling associates with ♡ Stressed out ♡ Perfectionist ♡ Works hard to please darling, especially with 2 wing ♡ Likely to see darling as lesser and like a pet or toy to them ♡ 1 fix can help core 3 control darling ♡ 3 fix can help core 1 consider the view of other people rather than only their own

3+5: ♡ Arrogant about how well they "know" darling ♡ Intelligent ♡ Meticulous and careful ♡ Stalker but likes to be a little fun with it ♡ Would secretly give possibly creepy gifts to darling ♡ Likes to look good for darling but is less flashy than a 3+7 for example ♡ Strong mask around everyone but especially darling ♡ Fearful of vulnerability ♡ Puts a barrier between themself and darling ♡ Fear of failure ♡ 3 fix can help 5 core be less reserved and act more on their desires, despite still having a mask of some kind ♡ 5 fix can help 3 core understand darling better and care more about darling rather than looking good together

136 - The Sculptor

3+6: ♡ Cares a lot about loyalty ♡ Wants darling to pledge their loyalty to them ♡ Needs darling to show how much they love them in actions ♡ Highly dedicated to darling ♡ Insecure about how others see their relationship ♡ Shows darling off to make sure everyone knows they're together ♡ Anxious ♡ Especially anxious if they feel darling has criticized them in any way ♡ Matching pfps, layouts, outfits, etc with darling ♡ Anxious about how their darling views them; needs to be perfect ♡ Wants to be extremely talented and accomplished so darling admires them ♡ Competitive to please darling ♡ Adapts to darling's preferences like a chameleon ♡ 3 fix can help 6 core be more confident ♡ 6 fix can help 3 core think more

137 - The Idealist

3+7: ♡ Flashy ♡ Positive and optimistic about their relationship ♡ Especially wants darling to think they're cool and the best ♡ Might be fake or two-faced ♡ Can manipulate others easily ♡ Doesn't hesitate to harm others if they're in the way of their relationship with darling ♡ Romanticizes darling and their relationship ♡ Loves doing cute couple things with darling ♡ Playful, likes teasing darling ♡ Drags darling into adventures with them ♡ Struggles with vulnerability ♡ Has a "mask" or false self ♡ 3 fix can help 7 core focus more on one darling rather than bouncing around as much ♡ 7 fix can help 3 core be more lovey-dovey and playful

145 - The Researcher

1+4: ♡ Most focused on darling being perfect ♡ Hates everything that isn't darling the most, finds them boring and subpar ♡ Hard to please ♡ Very particular ♡ Possibly follows religious ideals with darling ♡ Or might worship darling instead - or desire that darling worships them ♡ Harsh standards for themself ♡ 1 wants to control darling while 4 wants to simply love darling as they are ♡ Feels conflicted in how they feel about darling ♡ Manipulative ♡ Doesn't daydream as much as other 4 types and isn't as emotional; 1 stunts the dreamy, emotional part of 4 ♡ Erratic view of darling ♡ 1 fix can help 4 core romanticize things less and be more serious ♡ 4 fix can help 1 core love darling more comfortably

4+5: ♡ Detached from actually being with darling ♡ Watches darling from afar and daydreams about them rather than acting ♡ Doubled daydreaming aspects ♡ Quiet resentment towards others in darling's life; 4, 1, or 8 core more likely to act on resentment ♡ Deeply engrossed in analyzing darling ♡ Writes and enjoys love poetry and love letters ♡ Deep down, needs words of affirmation ♡ Sees darling as perfect (unless splitting or something of the sort, as is common with 4 types...!) ♡ Quite delusional ♡ 5 fix might make 4 core a little less emotional than other 4s ♡ Bizzare-seeking ♡ Struggles to explain their feelings for darling when asked about it ♡ Somewhat dislikes simple conversation with darling; prefers deep conversations with them ♡ 4 fix can help 5 core be more likely to act, though it is still a bit detached ♡ 5 fix can help 4 core analyze darling more and see them more as a person rather than entirely as their "lover"

146 - The Philosopher

4+6: ♡ Extremely sensitive ♡ Cries easily about darling ♡ Manipulative ♡ Definitely be the type to kill or at least hurt anyone in the way ♡ Only trusts darling ♡ "I fucking hate everyone but you" ♡ Tests darling's loyalty ♡ Soulmates ♡ Very delusional but especially persecutory ♡ Paranoid ♡ Vulnerable ♡ Empathetic to darling ♡ Likely reverent ♡ 6 fix can help 4 core be more careful and wary ♡ 4 fix can help 6 core stay in touch with emotions

147 - The Visionary

4+7: ♡ Dreamer and idealist ♡ Romanticizes darling a lot ♡ Rose-colored glasses ♡ Plays with darling ♡ Overindulges in fantasies and love for darling ♡ Prone to giving into desires, even darker ones ♡ Believes they and darling are special and fated to be together ♡ Manic ♡ Moody ♡ Can become bratty ♡ Childish at times ♡ "That's mine!!" ♡ 4 fix can help 7 core feel a stronger connection to just one darling rather than jumping around ♡ 7 fix can help 4 core get over any lost darlings quicker

258 - The Strategist

2+8: ♡ Very very very possessive ♡ Hates when people talk to darling ♡ Would lock darling in their closet and be their sole caretaker if t hey could ♡ Especially controlling ♡ Acts of service ♡ Likely physical touch for 8 core especially ♡ Dislikes being vulnerable and prefers to make darling vulnerable ♡ Conflicted between protecting their own needs and pleasing darling ♡ Aggressive in love and cute aggression ♡ Lovey-dovey ♡ Darling's hero ♡ Anger issues to both darling and others ♡ Sees darling as helpless and weak, needing their help and protection ♡ 2 fix can help 8 core care more about making darling happy and fulfilling their needs rather than simply possessing them ♡ 8 fix can help 2 core become less obsessed with pleasing darling and care more about protecting themself

5+8: ♡ Mastermind ♡ Often intimidating, darling may be afraid of them ♡ Quietly stalks darling and waits to pounce ♡ Invulnerable ♡ Dominant ♡ Watches from afar rather than closely interacting with darling ♡ Especially hates everyone in darling's life; possessive and jealous but wields it like a weapon ♡ Likely has street smarts ♡ Prone to manipulation and violence; lethal ♡ Hates superficiality and dislikes small talk, especially with darling ♡ Wants a true, deep connection with darling, especially with 4 core or fix ♡ 5 fix can help 8 core be less impulsive and reflect more ♡ 8 fix can help 5 core eventually pounce rather than never acting

259 - The Problem Solver

2+9: ♡ Most self-sacrifical ♡ Forgets own needs in favor of darling's ♡ Conflicted between hidden pride of 2 and self-abasement of 9 ♡ Deeply fearful of hurting darling or upsetting darling ♡ Very sweet to darling, probably the sweetest to darling except maybe 4+9 ♡ Passive-aggressive ♡ Lots of built-up resentment ♡ Might snap on darling one day ♡ Deeply afraid of losing darling ♡ Especially bad abandonment issues ♡ Prone to feeling unappreciated ♡ Denies their pride ♡ Wants to help darling ♡ Delicate and mellow ♡ 2 fix can help 9 core have some kind of pride and enhances desire to help darling, giving some kind of purpose ♡ 9 fix can help 2 core be less prideful and more gentle

5+9: ♡ Lots of daydreaming about darling ♡ May write love poetry that they will probably never share with darling ♡ Withdrawn ♡ Nervous ♡ Stalks darling out of curiosity and love rather than paranoia or for a desire to control them ♡ Seems to disappear ♡ Covert obsession ♡ Reverent ♡ Represses their anxiety and anger ♡ Might have a mask with darling, especially if 3 fix or core ♡ 9 fix can help 5 core be more submissive ♡ 5 fix can help 9 core understand darling more strongly

268 - The Hero

2+6: ♡ Strong desire to be of service to darling ♡ Most anxious about making a mistake and hurting darling rather than helping ♡ Hates hates hates being alone and separated from darling the most; most clingy and needy ♡ Needs security and plenty of "I love you"s ♡ Needy. Did I mention needy? ♡ Forgets their own needs and instead focuses on darling's ♡ Needs to be important to darling ♡ Becomes very flustered and upset if they don't know how to help darling ♡ Hates it when other people help darling with anything ♡ Often self-sacrifical for darling but not humble about it, at least not internally ♡ 6 fix can help 2 core be more understanding of darling and think things through more carefully rather than only seeking affection; can help 2 be more thoughtful ♡ 2 fix can help 6 core feel more of a specific purpose, to help darling

6+8: ♡ Most paranoid combination ♡ Needs to have control over darling ♡ Especially with 5 fix, wants to know what darling's up to, where they are, etc at all times ♡ Tests darling often in multiple ways (loyalty, their love, etc) ♡ Quick reflexes ♡ Almost always in attack mode ♡ Fight rather than flight ♡ Dominant and controlling ♡ POSSESSIVE. So possessive ♡ Denies their anxiety about darling but really is anxious ♡ Loyal and protective over darling (might hate 7s...) ♡ Confrontational and argumentative ♡ Would kill or at least hurt darling if they cheated ♡ Definitely the "Me murdering everyone he's ever looked at" type ♡ 6 fix can help 8 core bond with darling more ♡ 8 fix can help 6 core be more confident and act more rather than simply be anxious

269 - The Nurturer

2+6: ♡ Strong desire to be of service to darling ♡ Most anxious about making a mistake and hurting darling rather than helping ♡ Hates hates hates being alone and separated from darling the most; most clingy and needy ♡ Needs security and plenty of "I love you"s ♡ Needy. Did I mention needy? ♡ Forgets their own needs and instead focuses on darling's ♡ Needs to be important to darling ♡ Becomes very flustered and upset if they don't know how to help darling ♡ Hates it when other people help darling with anything ♡ Often self-sacrifical for darling but not humble about it, at least not internally ♡ 6 fix can help 2 core be more understanding of darling and think things through more carefully rather than only seeking affection; can help 2 be more thoughtful ♡ 2 fix can help 6 core feel more of a specific purpose, to help darling

6+9: (lol funny number) ♡ Very clingy and anxious ♡ Does not deny anxiety at all ♡ Gentle and agreeable with darling ♡ Reverent ♡ More likely to be honest than manipulative ♡ Changes to fit darling's desires, especially if with a 3 fix or core ♡ Absolutely terrified of conflict with darling ♡ Sees relationship with darling as their source of security and safety in their life ♡ Needy ♡ Needs reassurance often ♡ 6 fix can help 9 core be more proactive ♡ 9 fix can help 6 core be more accepting

278 - The Playful

7+8: ♡ Assertive ♡ Playful ♡ Likes teasing darling ♡ Enjoys intensity and seeks thrills ♡ Excessive and grandiose ♡ Hates being controlled, especially by darling! ♡ Wants to control darling and play with them ♡ Needs freedom ♡ Especially possessive ♡ Sees darling like their own toy that nobody else can play with ♡ Possibly a bit childish ♡ May switch between darlings frequently ♡ Indecisive ♡ 7 fix can help 8 core be happier and less serious ♡ 8 fix can help 7 core with idealizing darling excessively

279 - The Peacemaker

7+9: ♡ Dreamy and idealizes darling ♡ A bit more aggressive than other 9 types ♡ Childlike ♡ May get bored of darlings just as quickly as they get attached to darlings ♡ Seems to get addicted to darling ♡ Self-destructive ♡ Very idealistic ♡ Sees darling in a romanticized light, especially with 4 fix or core ♡ Probably gets along with darling well as they have a comforting energy ♡ Likes going on fun, cute dates with darling ♡ Not at all rough ♡ 7 fix can help 9 core be more confident and playful ♡ 9 fix can help 7 core be softer and less temperamental

358 - The Overachiever

3+8: ♡ Marks darling, probably would get them a collar or something like that! ♡ Wants everyone to know who darling belongs to ♡ Very aggressive and assertive to darling and others ♡ Dominant ♡ Intimidates others, especially anyone who gets in the way of their relationship ♡ Would kill for darling (...or maybe kill darling, too) ♡ Invulnerable ♡ Afraid of showing emotion to darling ♡ Has a "mask" ♡ Thinks those in darling's life are insignificant and weak ♡ Likely sees darling as their cute little pet or something of the sort ♡ 3 fix can help 8 core love their relationship with darling more ♡ 8 fix can help 3 core fight against obstacles more

359 - The Observer

3+9: ♡ Especially attached to darling ♡ Adaptable and accommodating to darling ♡ Most reverent 3 type ♡ Mostly stable emotions ♡ Clingy to darling ♡ Still cares about their image with darling ♡ Might want darling to take care of them ♡ Prefers a diplomatic approach to obstacles ♡ Avoids conflict ♡ Highly adaptive to darling's preferences; chameleon-like ♡ 3 fix can help 9 core be more confident ♡ 9 fix can help 3 core be more humble and careful

368 - The Owner

369 - The Attached

378 - The Energizer

379 - The Masked

458 - The Enraptured

4+8: ♡ Reactive ♡ Hates superficiality and small talk, wants to have deep conversations and understanding with darling ♡ Daydreams at times ♡ Feels like they're the only one who can understand darling and vice versa ♡ Needs to be the most important and needed person for darling ♡ Needs darling to need them ♡ Hates it if darling lies to them and can tell ♡ Controlling of darling ♡ Aggressive towards obstacles ♡ Easily made possessive and jealous ♡ Protective over darling ♡ Wants to deeply understand darling, even the dark and taboo parts of them ♡ Values that darling is completely vulnerable with them and DOES. NOT. LIE. ♡ 4 fix can help 8 core be more comfortable with vulnerability and emotion ♡ 8 fix can help 4 core be more protective and assertive

459 - The Dreamer

4+9: ♡ A daydreamer ♡ Dreamy ♡ Especially obsessed with the idea of soulmates ♡ Quiet resentment to those in darling's life ♡ Withdrawn from darling ♡ Prone to isolating self from darling when anxious or upset ♡ Jealousy is quiet but profound ♡ Hesitates to interact with darling out of anxiety ♡ Romantic and nostalgic ♡ Passive ♡ Fearful of conflict with darling ♡ Afraid of communicating feelings ♡ Strongest fear of abandonment ♡ Hides their sadness from darling ♡ 4 fix can help 9 core think more about their and their darling's emotional needs more ♡ 9 fix can help 4 core be more gentle and less likely to manipulate or hurt others on purpose

468 - The Fervent

469 - The Love-seeker

478 - The Love-struck

479 - The Romantic

Final Notes

I took inspiration from the explanations here. A few of the nicknames are the same.

My original post for the normal Enneagram system is here.

Feel free to comment any questions/comments or send me asks about any questions/comments about this system or the main Yandere Enneagram system ^_^!

#yandere enneagram #yandere #yandere theory #yandere blog #irl yandere #actually yandere #bpd yandere #yanderecore #yancore #yandere types #yanblr #yandere imagines #obsessive love #yandere thoughts #yandere aesthetic #yandere community

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leo-interactive-fiction · 3 months ago

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Progress Report 10/2/2024

Hello all! I hope you're having a good week so far. For my part, things have been calming down a bit, and I've been enjoying the small extra free time developing the upcoming scenes.

They are turning out well, as I've progressed about 1/5 of the way as I'm finishing up one of the father's scenes, with 3 more to go, along with Rachael's specialization scenes.

I'd like to go a little more in depth on these scenes, as they will basically flesh out the MC's personal development going forward. I wanted to give some hints at how the MC's S.T.E.M. ability will generally progress going forward. To this end, all of the scenes have a combat oriented focus, but I also wanted to focus on giving a bit more story and lore to the fathers and the organizations they occupy.

For MC's that have chosen to follow their military origin and hone their swordsmanship, your father will request a duel to see what you have learned from Lin, and determine whether or not you are ready for the path ahead. It will not be the practice and training you have undergone with him before. You will have to bring your all to bare against the full martial prowess of a seasoned war hero.

For MC's that have chosen to follow their scientific origin and seek to research S.T.E.M. in Rosaline's facility, your father will conduct his own tests to see if this newfound power is worth the risk, or an endangerment to you. Though this isn't the peaceful, carefree life he wished to give you as a father, he will spare no cost to at least ensure your safety against every unknown he could think of, even if it means disregarding protocols.

For MC's that have chosen to follow their performing heart and find themselves ingratiated in Simon's troupe, your father will be interested in seeing what new tricks you've come up with in his absence. With less and less guards to patrol the city, opportunists have set their sights on raiding and stealing from the seemingly defenseless Bermuda troupe. They could not have expected the troupe to contain its own secrets.

For MC's that have chosen to follow their parent's legacy of covert operations, Hoft leads them to the underground catacombs where a final initiation of the Faction of Beggars takes place: The Lightless Gauntlet. Overseen by a faceless jury, your actions will be the determining factor on your placement as either a clandestine Operative or a lethal Agent.

And for MC's that have chosen to pursue Rachael's offer, the fathers will be present as Rachael conducts tests to push the MC's limits and fully measure the potential of the S.T.E.M. product she's developed, even should there be pain and possible chance of dysmorphia involved. Depending on the father present, they will comment or even intervene in different ways. Thankfully, Rachael is not so crazed to risk everlasting harm or death to their subjects! On a good day, at least...

I'll be very interested to see how these new scenes will be recieved. I've also thought to implement some new stylistic choices in the writing with giving the character's named skills. It gives it a bit more of a gamey feel, and I will have to see how it feels going forward, I'm mostly using this as a test. I will probably cover that at a later date once it is closer to release haha.

I hope you enjoy what I have in store!

#triaina academy #progress report

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leikeliscomet · 1 year ago

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“But We Love Martha Jones!” - The Doctor Who Fandom’s Selective Memory of Racism

Be aware that this article contains explicit examples of anti-black racism and misogynoir.

Chapter 2 - Utopia-ish

The constant nitpicking of Martha Jones for reasons white female companions could get away with was blatant anti-black racism. Let’s get that bit clear first and foremost. As a Black person in fandom, watching Black characters get torn apart while never being given the grace of their non-Black castmates is an experience that’s too common. Microaggressions are more subtle so the easiest way to shut down any mentions of racism is to accuse Black fans of making things up or telling us “Well it’s not like REAL racism”. Luckily Doctor Who Tumblr birthed the Martha Jones affirmative action and Aunt Jemima “memes” so I can cross both covert and overt racism off the list. As mentioned in extensive detail in the previous chapter, plus the various Martha Jones articles written before me, the treatment Martha experienced was racist. I don’t care if you personally didn’t like her. I don’t care that you missed Rose. I don’t care that Ten is your smol bean. Martha’s treatment was racist. Freema Agyeman’s treatment was racist. It might not have been everyone. It might not have been you personally. But it was there. The fandom can never be a safe space for POC, specifically Black people if this elephant in the room can’t be addressed over a decade after it arrived.

On paper, you’d assume Martha’s rep was good because “at least she wasn’t a Black stereotype”. Some fans praised her for having a present father, not speaking MLE and not being from the ends. This goes into respectability politics but the fandom’s weirdness about Black Brits and class is not the point of this article. The point is the revisionist history of how Martha was really treated and to do that it helps to know what Black tropes are. The Mammy trope is a Black woman whose main purpose is to serve her white counterparts and during slavery, she mainly cared for the slave owners' children. She is usually fat, dark skin and asexual, not as a representation of those things but as a statement of how if she isn’t used for sexual exploitation like the Jezebel (the promiscuous, reckless, sexualised Black woman), she has no sexual value at all. Her value is serving the needs of others only. Martha doesn’t fit this trope in theory but in practice, she fulfils the sub-categories of this trope both in show and fandom: the disposable Black (girl)friend trope. She is used as Ten’s emotional punching bag before he’s ready for Donna and then Rose again. She had to endure edgy moody S3 Ten so no one else had to. She’s the excuse people use to deflect any critical analysis of how race was handled in RTD1. She’s the fandom’s excuse to deflect from their own racial biases. Racism? No way! Everybody loves Martha Jones! What do you mean?

Some parts of the fandom have tried to mend things by suggesting Martha be paired with other doctors or romantically shipping her with other characters a bit better than Mickey Smith. But does this hold up? As much as I’m a big fan NineMartha as a concept and as someone who honestly saw one-off characters like Riley Vashtee from 42 or Tallulah from Daleks in Manhattan having way more romantic chemistry with Martha than Mickey ever did, simply re-shipping Martha isn’t enough. Doctor Who’s racism isn't exclusive to one doctor, one series or one era and new Martha pairings suggest the issue was “right person, wrong doctor” instead of what the issue actually was: racism. Moffat and Chibnall’s eras weren’t full of golden Black representation either so I doubt the Martha issue would’ve magically disappeared under those two. From Nine’s hostility to Mickey, to Twelve’s hostility to Danny Pink to Thirteen handing a South Asian Spymaster to the Nazis and Eleven only travelling with POC in comics most fans haven’t heard of and being besties with Churchill, simply putting Martha with another Doctor isn’t the serve fans think it is. Even RoseMartha seems like putting a bandaid on a bullet hole. If it's not enough for Martha to be compared to Rose, put down in favour of Rose, told she isn’t Rose and told she's worse than Rose in fandom and in show over and over and over, she has to be shipped with Rose too. Martha’s a great character… as long as you can tie her to Rose… again. Even in my own article I have to talk about Rose because Rose is centred in what was supposed to be Martha’s story. A doctor-to-be Black girl from London with a hectic family meets a Time Lord and gets abducted by space rhino police at work in one day. Her main conflict isn’t balancing work and time traveller life, or fighting to get her family back together, or seeing what’s out there in the universe - it's that she isn’t “Rose” enough. The Mammy and her sons’ main thing in common is simple; how well they serve and centre the white characters. In attempts to mend Martha’s treatment she is still only valued in relation to white characters. She should’ve been with Eleven because he would’ve fucked a Black woman. Or maybe Dilfy Twelve. Or a sapphic romance with another female companion who she saw twice or doesn’t actually know. Or maybe Ten in an alternate universe where he supports #nubianqueens. None of this is done to explore sexuality or romance with Black women and is definitely not to centre Black lesbianism and bisexuality. It’s Mammy with a dash of Jezebel. It's adding romantic and sexual value on top of physical and emotional value like a crappy meal deal.

I’m tired of Black women being treated as extensions of white women both in media and in real life. I’m tired of our value being determined by how well we serve white people emotionally, physically, platonically and sexually. And I'm even more tired of white feminism especially in this fandom. It would be so easy to label this article as anti-Rose, anti-Ten or anti-Tenrose to invalidate my whole racial analysis because it's the easy way out. I’ll admit I like both characters individually but not the ship but this isn’t something I decided on since birth - it's my conclusion as a Black fan in a predominantly white fandom, watching a predominantly white show, watching the first companion of my race be told she isn’t good enough compared to the white characters, and that the hatred of her is justified for the greater good of its popular white ship. Black fans can never have this conversation without being told we’re “pitting women against each other” and that Martha and Rose hugged once in S4 so everything's hunky dory. Martha’s happy that Ten found Rose again so what’s the problem? It sends a clear message that Black women’s pain will never matter a much as white women’s feelings. “Rose is amazing! Martha’s amazing! Stop pitting women against women!” but who was pit against who in the first place? These faux girl power posts fail to acknowledge the overlap of race and gender which separates the treatment of Black and white women. It fails to acknowledge Martha’s hate was rooted in anti-black racism. It fails to acknowledge the anti-Rose pushback was in response to how the show and fandom convinced us Rose was the untouchable bar this Black woman failed to meet. It fails to acknowledge Freema Agyeman the actress was targeted not just her character. It fails because the female empowerment rhetoric that leaves the Black ones at the bottom of the pile only “empowers” women of a certain demographic.

The harassment Martha experienced was swept under the rug of “stan wars” but it was so much deeper than that. I’m not saying Martha stans are angels but there was no “Great Stan War” because the sides were never even. At the end of the day no amount of “Martha’s better than Rose” tweets will ever compare to the fact that Martha hate was rooted in misogynoir. Rose was and still is considered the greatest companion of nuwho, whilst Martha is constantly erased and undervalued. Rose’s video views and hashtags have always been bigger than Martha’s. Amy and Clara came after Martha but still surpassed her in popularity and got plenty of fan edits of “The Girl Who Waited” and “The Impossible Girl” whilst Martha was conveniently skipped in the companion lineup. The fandom’s bias still shines clearly in favour of Rose over Martha. Rose’s jealousy towards other women is justifiable and just the ups and downs of a 19-year-old whilst Martha’s is entitled bitterness. Rose’s flaws are compelling character moments and depth, Martha’s are “holding her back from being a good companion”. Hell, even Donna calling out Ten’s BS was entertaining accountability whilst Martha was just the angry Black woman. Fans will weaponise Rose’s working-class roots to imply a pro-Martha bias, failing to acknowledge the working-class to poor background of the average Black Brit, the anti-blackness middle-class Black people are not spared from, the many working-class Black characters of the show like Mickey, Bill, Rigsy and Ryan or how most fans don’t consider Martha middle class because she doesn’t fit the white British cultural stereotypes. You can't be the most loved and hated at the same time. The hard truth is Billie Piper wasn’t racially abused by Martha stans but Freema was absolutely racially abused by Rose’s and the effects of this are still around. Go into Martha Jones tags today and you’ll see snarky posts of how Ten could never love another companion like Rose. Even when Freema bravely shared her experiences of literal racism, fans were quick to yell “But I wanted Ten and Rose though” as a justification for years of misogynoir. Again, we need to address the elephant in the room instead of covering our eyes and ears to act like it’s not there. A Black character and actress was collateral damage in order for a popular white ship to rise and whilst I’m not an anti, I as a Black Doctor Who fan, I’ll never be a supporter. At the end of the day, only one of these actresses is still carrying the burden of misogynoir over 10 years since RTD1 ended. A lonely walk across the Earth yet again.

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

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bfpnola · 1 year ago

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introductory excerpts on COINTELPRO

it came to my awareness that some folks don't know what COINTELPRO is still, so imma drop some excerpts from the wikipedia page. ofc there are a billion other resources you can check out, especially firsthand accounts, but this is always a good place to start! link attached below:

[Note that the embedded link above's photo has the following caption: "COINTELPRO memo proposing a plan to expose the pregnancy of actress Jean Seberg, a financial supporter of the Black Panther Party, hoping to "possibly cause her embarrassment or tarnish her image with the general public". Covert campaigns to publicly discredit activists and destroy their interpersonal relationships were a common tactic used by COINTELPRO agents."]

The Introduction:

COINTELPRO (syllabic abbreviation derived from Counter Intelligence Program; 1956–1971) was a series of covert and illegal[1][2] projects actively conducted by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) aimed at surveilling, infiltrating, discrediting, and disrupting domestic American political organizations.[3][4] FBI records show COINTELPRO resources targeted groups and individuals the FBI[5] deemed subversive,[6] including feminist organizations,[7][8] the Communist Party USA,[9] anti–Vietnam War organizers, activists of the civil rights and Black power movements (e.g. Martin Luther King Jr., the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panther Party), environmentalist and animal rights organizations, the American Indian Movement (AIM), Chicano and Mexican-American groups like the Brown Berets and the United Farm Workers, independence movements (including Puerto Rican independence groups such as the Young Lords and the Puerto Rican Socialist Party), a variety of organizations that were part of the broader New Left, and white supremacist groups such as the Ku Klux Klan[10][11] and the far-right group National States' Rights Party.[12]

Methods COINTELPRO Utilized

According to attorney Brian Glick in his book War at Home, the FBI used five main methods during COINTELPRO:

Infiltration: Agents and informers did not merely spy on political activists. Their main purpose was to discredit, disrupt and negatively redirect action. Their very presence served to undermine trust and scare off potential supporters. The FBI and police exploited this fear to smear genuine activists as agents.

Psychological warfare: The FBI and police used a myriad of "dirty tricks" to undermine movements. They planted false media stories and published bogus leaflets and other publications in the name of targeted groups. They forged correspondence, sent anonymous letters, and made anonymous telephone calls. They spread misinformation about meetings and events, set up pseudo movement groups run by government agents, and manipulated or strong-armed parents, employers, landlords, school officials, and others to cause trouble for activists. They used bad-jacketing to create suspicion about targeted activists, sometimes with lethal consequences.[74]

Harassment via the legal system: The FBI and police abused the legal system to harass dissidents and make them appear to be criminals. Officers of the law gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, "investigative" interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters.[73][75]

Illegal force: The FBI conspired with local police departments to threaten dissidents; to conduct illegal break-ins in order to search dissident homes; and to commit vandalism, assaults, beatings and assassinations.[73] The objective was to frighten or eliminate dissidents and disrupt their movements.

Undermine public opinion: One of the primary ways the FBI targeted organizations was by challenging their reputations in the community and denying them a platform to gain legitimacy. Hoover specifically designed programs to block leaders from "spreading their philosophy publicly or through the communications media". Furthermore, the organization created and controlled negative media meant to undermine black power organizations. For instance, they oversaw the creation of "documentaries" skillfully edited to paint the Black Panther Party as aggressive, and false newspapers that spread misinformation about party members. The ability of the FBI to create distrust within and between revolutionary organizations tainted their public image and weakened chances at unity and public support.[49]

The FBI specifically developed tactics intended to heighten tension and hostility between various factions in the black power movement, for example between the Black Panthers and the US Organization. For instance, the FBI sent a fake letter to the US Organization exposing a supposed Black Panther plot to murder the head of the US Organization, Ron Karenga. They then intensified this by spreading falsely attributed cartoons in the black communities pitting the Black Panther Party against the US Organization.[49] This resulted in numerous deaths, among which were San Diego Black Panther Party members John Huggins, Bunchy Carter and Sylvester Bell.[73] Another example of the FBI's anonymous letter writing campaign is how they turned the Blackstone Rangers head, Jeff Fort, against former ally Fred Hampton, by stating that Hampton had a hit on Fort.[49] They also were instrumental in developing the rift between Black Panther Party leaders Eldridge Cleaver and Huey Newton, as executed through false letters inciting the two leaders of the Black Panther Party.[49]

...

In order to eliminate black militant leaders whom they considered dangerous, the FBI is believed to have worked with local police departments to target specific individuals,[78] accuse them of crimes they did not commit, suppress exculpatory evidence and falsely incarcerate them. Elmer "Geronimo" Pratt, a Black Panther Party leader, was incarcerated for 27 years before a California Superior Court vacated his murder conviction, ultimately freeing him. Appearing before the court, an FBI agent testified that he believed Pratt had been framed, because both the FBI and the Los Angeles Police Department knew he had not been in the area at the time the murder occurred.[79][80]

...

In 1969 the FBI special agent in San Francisco wrote Hoover that his investigation of the Black Panther Party had concluded that in his city, at least, the Panthers were primarily engaged in feeding breakfast to children. Hoover fired back a memo implying the agent's career goals would be directly affected by his supplying evidence to support Hoover's view that the Black Panther Party was "a violence-prone organization seeking to overthrow the Government by revolutionary means".[84]

Hoover supported using false claims to attack his political enemies. In one memo he wrote: "Purpose of counterintelligence action is to disrupt the Black Panther Party and it is immaterial whether facts exist to substantiate the charge."[85]

Intended Effects of COINTELPRO

The intended effect of the FBI's COINTELPRO was to "expose, disrupt, misdirect, or otherwise neutralize" groups that the FBI officials believed were "subversive"[58] by instructing FBI field operatives to:[59] 1. Create a negative public image for target groups (for example through surveilling activists and then releasing negative personal information to the public) 2. Break down internal organization by creating conflicts (for example, by having agents exacerbate racial tensions, or send anonymous letters to try to create conflicts) 3. Create dissension between groups (for example, by spreading rumors that other groups were stealing money) 4. Restrict access to public resources (for example, by pressuring non-profit organizations to cut off funding or material support) 5. Restrict the ability to organize protest (for example, through agents promoting violence against police during planning and at protests) 6. Restrict the ability of individuals to participate in group activities (for example, by character assassinations, false arrests, surveillance)

When did they start?

Centralized operations under COINTELPRO officially began in August 1956 with a program designed to "increase factionalism, cause disruption and win defections" inside the Communist Party USA (CPUSA). Tactics included anonymous phone calls, Internal Revenue Service (IRS) audits, and the creation of documents that would divide the American communist organization internally.[9] An October 1956 memo from Hoover reclassified the FBI's ongoing surveillance of black leaders, including it within COINTELPRO, with the justification that the movement was infiltrated by communists.[31] In 1956, Hoover sent an open letter denouncing Dr. T. R. M. Howard, a civil rights leader, surgeon, and wealthy entrepreneur in Mississippi who had criticized FBI inaction in solving recent murders of George W. Lee, Emmett Till, and other African Americans in the South.[32] When the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), an African-American civil rights organization, was founded in 1957, the FBI began to monitor and target the group almost immediately, focusing particularly on Bayard Rustin, Stanley Levison, and eventually Martin Luther King Jr.[33]

How did the news get out about COINTELPRO?

The program was secret until March 8, 1971, when the Citizens' Commission to Investigate the FBI burgled an FBI field office in Media, Pennsylvania, took several dossiers, and exposed the program by passing this material to news agencies.[1][54] The boxing match known as the Fight of the Century between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in March 1971 provided cover for the activist group to successfully pull off the burglary. Muhammad Ali was a COINTELPRO target because he had joined the Nation of Islam and the anti-war movement.[55] Many news organizations initially refused to immediately publish the information, with the notable exception of The Washington Post. After affirming the reliability of the documents, it published them on the front page (in defiance of the Attorney General's request), prompting other organizations to follow suit. Within the year, Director J. Edgar Hoover declared that the centralized COINTELPRO was over, and that all future counterintelligence operations would be handled case by case.[56][57]

#reaux speaks #black panther party #fbi corruption #cointelpro #counterinsurgency #revolution #martin luther king jr #black power #intersectional feminism #indigenous #young lords #history #wikipedia #communism #socialism #j edgar hoover #mccarthyism

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rascal-xo · 2 years ago

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I heard your requests are open~

I'm always a sucker for angsty hostage reader fics. Maybe one of the 141 are clearing a warehouse, and come across hostage!reader. He takes them back to the base for their injuries and they start to get close

Hopefully this is enough to go off of, I really like your writing

Special Affairs | Task Force 141 x GN!Reader

Chapter Summary: You’ve found yourself in a sticky situation and end up crossing paths with none other than the infamous 141 soldiers.

Warnings: Violence, weapons, language, reads like an action fic ‼️

Word Count: a lot. (i’m too lazy to check lol)

A/N: I decided to let my creativity run wild and took some inspiration from the Cold War campaign (my fav). I hope you enjoy and ty for the request!!

|NOT CANONICALLY ACCURATE| |OVERLAPPING OF TIMELINES| PART 2 HERE

When you were recruited for the CIA, It was only a matter of time you’d find yourself in this situation. Your training had prepared you for the unexpected, but nothing could have quite prepared you for the events that unfolded during this covert mission.

As a highly skilled agent, you were sent deep undercover to gather intel on a notorious terrorist organization. You had infiltrated their ranks and gained their trust, positioning yourself to uncover their plans from within.

But during one of the critical moments, a sudden turn of events led to chaos.

As tensions escalated, shots rang out, triggering a full-blown firefight and you were caught in the crossfire, you fought valiantly, taking down several hostiles. You were outnumbered and one of the enemy operatives managed to sneak up behind you, immobilizing you with a well-placed blow to the head.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself disoriented and restrained in a dimly lit underground bunker. Your head throbbed with pain as you struggled against the ropes binding your wrists.

Hours turned into days as you remained imprisoned, your captors using various failed forms of psychological torture to extract information.

Unbeknownst to Captain Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz, their mission had brought them closer to the underground facility where you were held captive.

Their objective aligned with yours - to dismantle the terrorist organization from within.

As the four of them navigated the corridors, they encountered heavy resistance. The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound, alerting your captors to the presence of intruders. “Was zum Teufel?!” (What the hell?!”)

The two armed soldiers in your room snapped up from their seats and readied their rifles to fire back if the door opened.

Just as the enemy closed in on your location, the sound of a door being kicked open reverberated through the bunker.

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz burst into the room, their weapons blazing. Their entrance sent your captors into disarray, allowing you to break free from your restraints.

Without wasting another moment you grabbed a gun on the nearby table, just as The Captain’s weapon pointed away from the now dead guards and to you, “Don’t Shoot!” You exclaimed.

“Who are you?” Ghost barked, not lowering his gun yet.

“I’m CIA.” Price motioned for everyone to lower their weapons and you walked closer to the group.

You nodded to them, “Clandestine Special Officer, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What’re you doing down here, Lass?” Soap chimed in, looking at you intently.

“Came here on the job you’ve been sent to finish.” You looked at your shoulder which was still freshly wounded, and then looked around the room for your jacket. You finally caught eye on it laying on the floor and quickly went to put it on.

“Wait, you cant go on like this, you’re broken.” Gaz points out, motioning to your shoulder. You could feel the black and blue forming around your eyes and the cut stinging on your lip as well. ‘So much for covert’ you thought to yourself.

“I’m fine, but I know East Berlin won’t be if we don’t get moving.” You answer.

Captain Price exchanged a glance with Soap before nodding in agreement. "They’re right. We need to finish this mission, and it seems like we've got ourselves an unexpected ally," he said, his voice steady and commanding. “Gonna get that arm checked out once we’re back, got it?”

You nod and collect the rest of your scattered gear, before heading out of the bunker and to the main facility. “So what’s the motherfucker got down here that needs to be guarded like this?” Gaz asks, as you take down maps and manifestos from the enemy conference room which is now empty.

“Missiles.” They all pause and turn to you in shock. “American missiles.”

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” Soap mutters.

“In the 50’s, Operation Greenlight put nuclear devices within every major European city as the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to a Soviet invasion of Europe. But an upgraded American Precision Strike system when online 2 weeks ago, sent up red flags all over but they were disguised at that time.”

“Perseus.” Price’s voice had anger lining it. “When does the system become active?”

“We have 24 hours at best. Launch was already delayed a few days from what I understand.”

The group exchanged concerned glances. "We need to move fast and take out the missile launch site before it's too late," Captain Price said, his voice urgent.

You nodded in agreement, knowing that time was of the essence. "I have intel on the location of the launch site, but it's heavily guarded," you said, pulling out a map and pointing to a spot. "We need a solid plan of attack."

You joined Captain Price and Soap as they made their way towards the launch site, keeping your eyes peeled for any enemy forces. Gaz and Ghost went around the south entrance.

Finally, you reached the launch site and saw the missile silos looming in the distance. The group split up, with Captain Price and Soap taking the left flank and you taking the right.

As you made your way towards the silos, you encountered heavy resistance. Enemy soldiers were everywhere, firing at you from all directions. You returned fire, taking out as many as you could.

When you reached the site, you quickly accessed the control panel, determined to disable the launch sequence. With deftness born from your CIA training, you navigated the complex system, neutralizing the imminent threat.

“Bravo Six to Actual- do you copy?” Price spoke.

“This is actual, what’s your report?” Laswell’s voice coming from the comms.

“We’ve got the threat. They were active missiles.”

The tension in the room dissipated as the launch sequence halted. A collective sigh of relief passed through the team.

“Gonna call in the evac, Y/N you with us?” Soap asked, coming to the group. Going back with the 141 didn’t seem like such a bad idea now that you had worked with them. The CIA could use the extra knowledge first hand.

“Hope you’ll save me a seat.” You smiled.

———

After the mission, you and the rest of the team returned to a secure base in London. You found yourself sitting at the counter at a pub.

You watched from across the bar as Soap scored a bullseye with the dart, earning a triumphant cheer from Gaz. Ghost simply nodded in approval, his focus seemingly undisturbed.

“Adler it’s Y/N. Everything’s been handled but I’m in London for the time being.” You sent the voicemail and set your phone down.

Captain Price walked over, a slight smile playing on his lips. He took a seat beside you, signaling the bartender for a drink.

"CIA, huh?" Price remarked, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "So what’s next for you, darling?”

"There’s always something that needs to be dealt with. But It feels good to have a moment to breathe," you replied, taking a sip from your drink. The cool liquid provided a soothing sensation as it slid down your throat.

You looked up to meet his gaze. You had known of captain for quite some time now. There wasn’t a file at Langley you hadn’t been assigned to go through, his of course was more seasoned than others.

Price's piercing blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade away. His expression held a mix of admiration and camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment.

He leaned back in his seat, his expression now uncertain. “Laswell never mentioned you or anything about this mission being active.”

“Well neither did Shepard, and we all know you have a Shepard problem.” You moved your glass in a circular motion slightly, watching the golden liquid rise and fall.

“We’ll always have that problem, darling.” He scoffed, downing the rest of his scotch.

“Well since i’m here now, consider that problem handled.” You said, suddenly deciding that you and the 141 weren’t quiet done being a team yet…

————————————————————————————

A/N: I highkey enjoy writing action/double meaning story fics. LMK what y’all think :))

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noneorother · 1 year ago

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The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part2*

Part 1 l Part 2

The ineffable cut is explained in part 1. Please read that first. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

So now that I've shown you XX:X6 is the number of the beast in the last installment, what else can we glean? Well, it turns out angel numbers (sequences of repeated numbers ex: 22:22 or 20:02) are quite important events in the S2 universe! I've cut together every "Angel Number" I could find in the timeline and put them in order. I first noticed this near the end of the ineffable cut, where Beelzebub and Gabriel hold hands, so I've started with that one just to give you an idea how bonkers this whole sequence is. Don't forget, sound on! Breakdown below the cut.

So we start off with this Beez and Gabriel sequence near the end of the cut. They start singing to each other a little out of time, but lo and behold, at 02:03:20 the music comes in right on time with the seconds ticking by to line them up. By the time they reach 03:33 they're gone.

Aziraphale is excited to get his "record"! He's doing something sneaky, and as a result opens the door to go off to said covert activity on 00:02:22.

Crowley asks "Do they know?" on 03:33. Who are they and why does he want to know? This whole scene is on a St-James park bench so spying and double speak is in progress, clearly.

Crowley then asks "Something big?" on 00:04:44. We get the hint for the main action of the entire second season here. Something's up with the up...

Now the real fun begins! I'll come back to the ones I just skipped in a later post because they're more subtle. Here's the first "real" angel number at 11:11. Aziraphale discovers THE box and touches it for the first time.

At 22:22 Nina and Maggie's signs are "mysteriously" ignored by a human passerby.

This is wild. Aziraphale is learning about the Everyday record and something funny happens. 33:31 Aziraphale says, " Do you have a copy?" 33:32 Maggie says, "Mm, too many of them" and at the same time a car horn beeps twice. 33:33 Aziraphale is startled by the fact that a double car horn happened on a XX:X2 and looks out the window in concern. So the question is: does Aziraphale feel or know the rhythm of the timestamps?? And are things that line up with numbers a signal he's paying attention to?

A funny one! At 44:44 Aziraphale seems to be wanting to check if Gabriel is really who he says he is, and is watching him like a hawk. Gabriel does all he can to do nothing at all and look innocent while the angel number passes by.

Another funny one. Nice. 55:55 reveals that the Bentley likes Aziraphale more than Crowley, and does whatever he wants, including not speeding when he puts his foot down.

This next one's a little peculiar. It seems like an exchange about Gabriel's whereabouts, but it's the halfway point of the edit (1:11:10-11:11:11) of the ineffable timeline and we seem to be having two conversations at once. Shax says on 11:11 "He hates you." Does she mean that she thinks Crowley hates Aziraphale, or... that Gabriel hates Aziraphale. Aziraphale looks noticeably shocked at her reply. After the eyebrow raise of "You don't seem like his type at all" I would bet we're not talking about Crowley anymore. How did she get this information?

01:22:22 Gabriel does a little laugh to himself while signalling with the lamp. What the fuck? Does someone know morse code?

01:33:33 Maggie extends her had to Nina at the ball, to invite her to dance. Nina looks pleased, but doesn't move until... a very odd miracle sound on a XX:X6 happens and she jumps up to take Maggie's hand. That miracle sound is not Aziraphale's, and besides, he would never miracle on a 6. Who's the demon making Nina dance...

Aziraphale's halo toss is the flip from ACT II to ACT III of season 2, and as such, get's a special time right before rolling over to the second hour. He decides to throw it down on exactly 01:54:45, and at 01:54:54 gets a giant tubular bell ring in the music to highlight the action. It lands on the ground at 01:55:01, and incinerates the demons at precisely 01:55:10.

01:59:59 Beez and Gabriel hold hands, and a magical chime sounds at 2:00:00. Maggie start her sentence "Aww, that's really sweet" at the same time, and manages to finish it on 2:00:02. (Dagon politely waits to pretend to barf on a XX:X3 after she's done.)

The last one is a big one : 02:02:02 gets "to face CELESTIAL punishment" by Michael. This is what we've been waiting for the entire season, the Checkov's gun of the book of life. But, where is it? We then get an odd cowboy showdown style stare-off between Michael and Shax. I'm predicting that missing chunk of time in the bookshop before we come back to Michael threatening Aziraphale with the book of life is going to be a pretty interesting reveal in season 3. -------------------------------------------

People, this is the short version of this post. There are SO MANY things to unpack. Next up is doubled numbers. If you want an ides of what it takes to break things down, here's my workflow timeline right now. The stuff after the first big space is numbers I haven't shown you yet... This show is insane.

#good omens meta #good omens 2 #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens analysis #good omens spoilers

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 10 months ago

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Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Rumors on Scorro

Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.

Pairing: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech

Tags & Warnings: BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, humor, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions, whump

Word Count: 5.7k

Author's Note: WE'RE BACK BABY!!! Yeah, that's right. Finally. After all of this time, the next chapter has arrived 🥳 I told y'all I would be updating my other series fics in the new year, and I meant it. This chapter has some Echo angst in it, because why not. FYI, since it's been 9 months, I went back and edited the first two chapters to match my current writing style. No plot elements changed, just style, grammar, word choice, etc. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As the ship leaves the stormy atmosphere of Kamino, you turn your head to look out the transparisteel viewport and are greeted by the sight of endless stars twinkling brightly across the ebony horizon. You smile wide knowing this view will never get old. The galaxy is vast and beautiful, and getting to see it up close and personal, while also doing something you love, is priceless. This really is a turning point in your life. A new chapter to be written and explored.

When the ship levels out, you unstrap from the jump seat and start exploring the Marauder. You have a feeling you’ll be spending a lot of time aboard this ship, so you want to familiarize yourself with it as much as possible. You walk back towards the stern, where Wrecker is, and look around, but there's not much to see. Then make your way back up toward the bow and step aboard the bridge. You weave between Hunter and Crosshair, and stand behind Tech.

“So, where are we going?” you ask while looking over Tech’s shoulder at the controls.

Without turning around, Tech answers. “Agamar. It’s a rather barren planet found in the outer rim. The terrain is inhospitable to most, but we will manage.”

“What’s the mission?” you ask further, excited by the prospect and intrigue.

“There’s a separatist base they want us to route,” Hunter says. “A simple in-and-out mission.”

You nod your head at the explanation, but he makes it sound like routing a heavily guarded separatist base is a walk in the park. You have to remind yourself that they are an elite force of clones and are genetically modified for the toughest conditions. It amazes you that such clones can even exist and your fascination with them grows. You wonder how they look in action and if they live up to all the rumors the regular clones whisper about on Kamino. Only time will tell.

Hunter rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. “Get some sleep, all of you. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”

You want to say something funny, like 'aye aye captain', but decide not. Instead, you simply nod and make your way back to the bunks. Laying down on the flat rack, you stare up at the ceiling. There are too many pre-mission jitters vibrating through your body to fall asleep. Even after shutting your eyes and calming yourself, it's just not enough. So, you toss and turn, getting more aggravated that your body won’t drift off, since being tired for your first mission is not an option.

You sigh and sit up, then peer around at the others who are soundly asleep in their bunks and chairs. You’re not sure how they can fall asleep so fast. It’s either a genetic thing or a military training tactic, but whatever it is, you don’t have it. You decide to get up and pace around to try and wear yourself out, and when you do, you hear something. The ship is quiet and your ears perk up immediately at the sound. Wanting to investigate it, you quietly slip around your squad.

One by one, you pass by them, waiting and listening to hear who made the weird sound. Not Wrecker. You move on. Not Crosshair either. You check the next one. He’s making noise for sure, but not the sound you heard. It’s not Tech either. You move towards Hunter, a little nervous that he might wake up and catch you staring at him, but you pause and listen. Nope, not him. You purse your lips. That only leaves Echo. Carefully, you tip toe over to him, wait, and listen.

He's not making a sound, and with a shrug, you turn to leave, thinking you’re a level of crazy for hearing things on a quiet ship. Then it happens again. You turn back around and look at Echo. He’s sleeping rather soundly, with soft rhythmic breaths and gentle rises and falls of his chest. No breath obstructions, you note to yourself. You wait and watch for a moment, then he says it again. It’s faint, breathy, and almost unrecognizable as a word, but you hear it regardless.

Fives.

You knit your eyebrows at the odd utterance, and wait a little longer, listening to see if what he mumbles changes or if he’s repeating the same word. After a couple standard seconds, Echo says the same breathy word again. Fives. You wonder what it means. Maybe it’s a special numerical sequence from his time back on Skako Minor? You shrug at the mystery, but are happy that it’s not a breathing issue. You turn to leave him be, but he mumbles something else.

Fives come back.

Oh. Your heart drops. It’s a person. He’s dreaming about someone he knows, or maybe someone he once knew. You sigh and let your eyes turn soft, knowing exactly what it’s like to dream about loved ones. It’s been several years, but you still dream about your parents. Sometimes you can’t fill in all the gaps of your dreams as you slowly forget things, but it still pulls at your heartstrings every time they show up to give you a hug in the realm of sleep.

As your thoughts wander a yawn escapes past your lips. Finally, feeling tired and ready for sleep, you return to your bunk and crawl onto the hard surface. Laying on your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to settle yourself. You still wonder who Fives is and what they mean to Echo. Your psychology books tell you that dreams can be a subconscious escape or a subconscious desire. Knowing next to nothing about Echo’s past, it could be either one.

You take another deep breath and exhale slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift off to sleep, but in a split moment, a rough hand shakes you back awake. You shoot up and hit your head on the bunk above you. Ouch. Nursing your newly formed bump, you use your other hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. When you come out of your groggy haze, you can hear snickering coming from the rest of the squad. Ha ha, yes, very funny. You think to yourself.

“Rise and shine,” Hunter mocks as he walks away from your bunk. “We’re here.”

Gathering your composure, you swing out of the bunk and head over to the cockpit for the landing. You look out the viewport as you enter the atmosphere of Agamar and your face lights up with excitement. This is it. Your first mission. You want to squeal, but something tells you that no one else is going to appreciate it, so you keep it internal. The ship lands on the rocky surface of the planet with only a slight wobble. Tech wasn’t kidding when he said it was inhospitable.

Your excitement grows as the squad gears up with their packs, and you follow suit the same way. You double check your pack to make sure you have all the medical necessities and do a mental headcount of your supplies. Once satisfied with your inventory, you sling it across your back and toss your bucket snug on your head. You’re all set to go on your first mission. The ship door opens, light beaming in, and your heart begins to race. This is it. This is your moment.

You take your first steps forward to leave the ship when Hunter stretches an arm out to stop you. “Not you,” Hunter says. “You’re staying here.”

“What?” you question. “But what about the mission?”

“Your mission is here,” Hunter says. “You’re staying on the ship with Echo.”

“But, sir!” you argue. Your feelings of excitement crumble. “I belong in the field!”

“You belong where I tell you you belong, medic,” Hunter snaps back. “Or are you ignoring an order from your commanding officer on your first mission?”

You huff and clench your fist. “No, sir."

“I didn’t think so,” Hunter says, then turns to face Echo. “We may need a quick extraction, so keep your ears on.”

“Understood,” Echo acknowledges with a nod.

Hunter nods back and heads out of the Marauder with the rest of the squad, well, the rest of the squad except you. You remove your bucket, plop down on your bunk with an angry grunt, and lean your head back against the wall. This entire assignment has been one big pissing match, and every time you think you’re making progress, you get sidelined. How are you supposed to make Kix proud if you don’t see any action? You release another angry grunt and cross your arms.

“Careful,” Echo says. “You’ll lose your voice if you keep grunting like that.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you upset being stuck here?”

“No,” Echo answers. “It’s not unusual for someone to be left back with the ship. Keeps people from stealing it.”

With such a small squad of men to work with, you guess that makes sense, and since Echo is your unofficial chaperone, it makes sense that you were left on the ship with him. However, even though you try to explain it to yourself in those practical terms, you still think it's to spite you. You sigh. At this rate, you’ll never get to prove your worth as a Combat Medic to any of them. To these special clones, you’re just useless dead weight and not worth their time.

As the planetary rotation moves forward, you find odd things around the ship to busy yourself with, but you’re still bored. Echo is not much of a conversationalist and he hasn’t moved from his spot in the cockpit. You end up sprawling yourself across the seat in the gunner’s nest and looking out the window at whatever draws your attention. There’s some trees, a little snow on the ground, and a few stray wildlife that come into view. Nothing too spectacular, that’s for sure.

Finally, after hours of sitting by yourself, you decide to go back to the cockpit and sit with Echo. You're still curious about this Fives person he mentioned in his sleep, and you think maybe now might be a good time to ask him about it. You walk into the cockpit and sit down in the chair across from him, bending one leg up onto the chair and resting your chin atop your knee. Echo silently acknowledges your presence and returns to looking at the setting sun over the horizon.

You fidget with your fingers as you mull over whether to ask him about what you overheard last night. It might be private, and he may not want to tell you, but your curiosity is getting the better of you. “Echo,” you ask. “Who's Fives?”

Echo shifts uncomfortably in his seat and stays silent for a couple of minutes. “How do you know that name?” he asks. His words hang heavy in the air.

“You…” you begin, then pause, unsure of how to tell him. You don't want to sound creepy, but honesty is the best policy. “You said it in your sleep.”

Echo sighs, but doesn't turn his gaze from the orange sunset. “Shouldn’t you have been sleeping too?”

“I’m not used to sleeping on ships,” you answer. You can tell by the tone of his voice that this is a sore subject and you're starting to regret bringing it up.

Echo swivels his chair to face you and worries his lip. His eyes are full of sadness and his countenance is engrossed in pain as he searches for the words he's looking for. A small smile flashes across his lips. You wonder if he's thinking about a memory.

“He was my brother,” Echo says, his voice quiet at the strain of saying his thoughts out loud.

You can tell by his choice of words and his tone of voice that this brother isn’t around anymore and you feel a twinge of sadness settle in your gut. You understand a thing or two about the loss of a loved one. “What happened to him?” you ask.

“He was murdered,” Echo says, his fist tightening as he looks back out the viewport. “By one of our own.”

Your expression turns from sadness to shock and then confusion. A clone killing a clone? Does that even happen? Why would a clone do that? Your mind rushes a mile a minute trying to wrap your head around the idea, but you cannot seem to reconcile it. It’s too bizarre of a concept to comprehend. Every clone you've ever met was a brother to the one next to him. So, for a clone to kill another clone, it’s like a family member killing another family member. It’s unheard of.

“I’m sorry, Echo,” you offer as a consolation. “You must miss him.”

“Yeah,” Echo says, his voice distant. “I do.”

“I miss my parents all the time,” you say, trying to bridge the gap and build a connection.

“I remember you mentioning they’re dead,” Echo says as he turns to face you.

“About ten years ago,” you add. Now it's your turn to look out at the sunset.

“I’m sorry,” Echo says.

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I know they’re out there watching over me, somewhere.”

Echo snorts. “You believe in that Jedi force stuff do ya?”

“Not really,” you answer with a small laugh. “But everyone needs to believe in something.”

“That’s fair,” Echo says.

“When I look up at the stars,” you begin with a smile while staring fondly out at the horizon, “it’s almost like I can feel them with me, you know? Watching over me as I make my way in the galaxy.”

“Sounds nice,” Echo says.

“I bet Fives is watching you too,” you say, then look at Echo with soft eyes. “He hasn’t left you alone, just like my parents haven’t left me.”

“Maybe,” Echo shrugs, then chuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he came back to haunt me.” His brief small smile fades as his countenance reverts back to a frown.

“We’ll see them again some day," you say, trying to stay hopeful. “I just know it.”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Echo half-jokes, but you can hear the part of his heart that wants what you're saying to be true.

He wants to see his brother again, desperately. So much so that he calls out to him while he sleeps. He must agonize over Fives’ death. You understand because you’ve been there. You’ve stared death in the face, the kind of death that leaves you thoroughly alone. You don't need to understand psychology to know what his subconscious thinks about on a daily basis, and your heart hurts for him, but you know there's nothing in your medpack to mend a shattered heart.

You and Echo stare out of the cockpit in silence and watch the sun fall beyond the horizon, sharing in this solemn moment and appreciating the company. The veil of night arrives and the stars begin to shine in the dark sky. The billions of bright burning lights feel comforting. The stars aren't very visible on Kamino, but here, on this planet, they are bright and beautiful. You relax your shoulders and lean back, thinking that maybe this assignment isn’t so bad after all.

However, your sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter’s voice over the comms. He’s calling in that quick extraction now and by the amount of yelling and blaster fire in the background, this is going to be a hot one. Echo relays the affirmation, sets the coordinates, and lets Hunter know that both of you are on the way to pick them up. You're slightly surprised that Echo included you in the transmission, but now is not the time to be celebrating your first taste of inclusivity.

“Civvy, strap in,” Echo orders as he starts pressing buttons and flipping switches to get the ship going. “This is going to be a bumpy ride and I don’t need you falling out of the ship.”

Ah, there it is. You sigh and head back towards the jump seats and strap yourself in for the wild ride ahead. Echo expertly maneuvers the ship to the squad's location and brings it in low so they can climb on board. You can hear the blaster fire outside and as the door opens to the ship, you watch them file in while firing off blaster bolts to cover each other. It’s the first time you’ve seen any of them in action and you're a little awestruck. They don’t move like other clones.

Tech next to Echo and Hunter yells for them to get them out of here. The ship moves again, this time more aggressively, as the enemy continues to fire at the Marauder. Wrecker moves to the gunner’s nest and shoots down the vulture droids that are following behind. You tightly grip the bars on the jump seat as the ship rocks from the blasts. Thankfully, the shields are up. The ship flips upside down, sideways, and every other way you can think of to out maneuver the droids.

At long last, the ship breaches the atmosphere and moves into space. Tech initiates the hyperdrive and pulls the handle down to enter into hyperspace. Once safe in a hyperspace lane, you let out the breath you were holding in, then flick the safety release on the jump seat and push them over your head. You get up from the seat and wobble forward, not realizing your legs turned to jelly from all of the excitement, and let your feet stabilize before trying to walk.

“Woah, that was fun!” Wrecker hollers as he brushes by you and moves towards the cockpit. “Echo, you should have seen this place. It was crazy.”

“Not as crazy as being sling-shot across a ravine,” Crosshair grumbles and pushes past you. He sits down in one of the swivel chairs and starts cleaning his rifle in silence.

“I said I was sorry,” Wrecker apologizes. “But we won!”

“Correction,” Tech says as he lifts a pointed finger in the air. “I won.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and pulls a few credits from his pocket and hands them to Tech.

“Much obliged,” Tech says as he stuffs the credits in one of his many satchels.

The exchange has you lost in bewilderment. Clearly, something happened during the mission and you’re curious to know the details. You look at Echo, hoping he'll ask for more information about it, but he doesn’t, leaving you more curious. You do find it odd, however, that they had some form of amusement out on the battlefield. From your time on Kamino, most clones don't find blaster fire fun. Clone Force 99 really is different compared to the rest of the clone forces.

“I assume your mission was a success?” Hunter asks while walking by you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes… sir,” you answer with a twinge of hesitancy, a little unsure of what your mission was other than staying on the ship with Echo.

“Good,” Hunter says. He reclines in one of the empty swivel seats and clasps his hands behind his head. “Glad to hear it.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he's trying to make fun of you. Either way, you brush it off and focus on more pressing matters, like what's next on the mission agenda. Will you go back to Kamino? Or will you wait for more orders? That’s what good soldiers do, isn’t it? Follow orders? You’re still unfamiliar with all of this, so you’re not sure what to ask or what to do with yourself. Rather than make new issues by asking more questions, you retreat back to your bunk to relax.

But the boredom of waiting creeps in and you start to doze off. Your eyelids are heavy even though you barely spent any energy this rotation. It doesn't take you long to remember that you didn’t get much sleep the night before and now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your body is telling you it needs rest. You don't fight it and let your body go to sleep, hoping you won’t be woken up. As a medic, you must get rest whenever you can so you can be at your best at all times.

This time you wake up on your own terms, when your body feels rested. You’re not sure how long you were out, but no one bothered you so you assume everyone is still waiting for new orders to come across. You sit up in your bunk, without hitting your head this time, and stretch out your arms. You roll your shoulders and crack your neck. The bunks aren’t exactly soft, but they do their job. Swinging your legs over the side of the bunk, you get up to use the refresher.

As you head towards the refresher, the rest of the squad is huddled around and speaking amongst each other. Hunter looks serious and has his arms crossed, which can’t mean anything good, and Echo is arguing with him, again. You forget the refresher for a moment and walk over to add your presence to the mix. Hunter notices and glances at you before turning back to Echo. Not realizing where you are standing, Crosshair gives you a small jab on your behind with his rifle.

The sudden touch startles you. “What was that for?”

“You’re blocking my view,” Crosshair hisses. “Move.”

You roll your eyes. “You could've just asked me to move, you know. That's borderline harassment.”

“If you looked more like a window than a door, I wouldn’t have to borderline harass you,” Crosshair snarks and flicks his toothpick in your face.

Your nose scrunches and eyes close when the little wooden projectile hits your face. As your frustration builds, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You want nothing more than to tell that sniper where he can shove his rifle, but you won't. It's not worth it because it will only fuel his bullying further. Instead, you choose to let it go. This time. There are points where you will cross the line, and he keeps dancing around that line. If he ever crosses it, you'll let him know.

“Can we get back to more important things?” Hunter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Crosshair.

Echo huffs and shakes his head. "I don't like it."

"We don't have to like it," Hunter says. "Orders are orders."

"What orders?" you ask.

Hunter swivels to face you. "There's rumors of an imperial base operating out of Scorro." Tech pulls up a holo of the planet and Hunter continues his explanation. "According to our intel, the GAR sent a squad of clones to scout the base, but their comms suddenly went silent. Another squad of clones were sent after them with the same result. Now they want us to investigate."

"Do they know what happened to the clones?" you ask, curious as to what's causing Echo's skepticism.

"No," Hunter crosses his arms. "They were never recovered."

"No one went back to get them?" you ask.

"It would be a waste of resources," Tech adds. "Besides, based on the trend, sending another clone squadron would yield the same results."

"But aren't we another clone squadron?" you ask, this time your nerves bleed through.

"Stop worrying!" Wrecker exclaims. "We can take on whatever they throw at us!"

His words don't make you feel better about the situation. While Echo is the only one openly objecting to the new mission, Hunter's facial expressions tell a different story than what he's leading everyone to believe. Your first inkling was the fact that he hasn't shoved you aside for this conversation. In fact, he's answered your questions without issue. He's serious about this in a way he hasn't been since you've met him. The fact that Hunter is worrying, has you worrying.

"I still don't like it," Echo frowns. "How'd they lose two clone squadrons without so much as one distress signal?"

"Maybe a new type of droid?" you offer. "Or their signals were jammed?"

"Groundbreaking ideas," Crosshair says.

"Everything is a valid option," Echo adds.

Crosshair rolls his eyes.

"Enough," Hunter says. "We're going to Scorro to investigate the rumors and to find the missing clones. Double-check our supplies and prepare for anything."

With the sergeant's final words, everyone scatters to prepare for the mission, except for Tech who punches in the new coordinates and sets the course for Scorro. You linger in the cockpit, silently observing Hunter as he pulls out his knife and twirls it around his fingers. The mission makes you nervous even though it shouldn't. You'll probably end up staying on the ship again, but maybe that's not a bad thing. You shake your head at the thought. That's not why you're here.

"Sergeant–"

"You too," Hunter says before you get a chance to ask. "You're coming with us."

You smile and nod. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Hunter adds. "I need Echo for this mission, and I'm not leaving you alone on the ship."

"Yes, sir," you frown then turn back towards the bunks to get yourself situated.

Of course it would be too good to be true. For a second, you thought he actually wanted you on this mission, but he just wants to keep an eye on you. As a medic, you can help the missing troopers if they need medical attention, which you're confident they will. Your presence on the mission should be vital, not just an afterthought. Although, you shouldn't be upset that you're going on a mission, but you wish it was because of merit and not for the sake of babysitting.

Regardless, you will do your best on this mission and prove to Clone Force 99 that you are a good medic. That they need you. You're not sure how, but you will. When you get back to your bunk, you triple-check the supplies in your pack and stock as many bacta patches and stim shots as you can fit, plus some essential fluid and mineral packets, ration bars, and a few medical odds and ends that make sense to bring along. You want to be prepared for anything.

With your preparations made, it's another waiting game until you reach Scorro. You don't remember reading about that planet in your studies, but apparently it's rather primitive in nature, which is why no one has settled on it. It's an abandoned planet, making it a great outpost for mercenaries, pirates, and separatists. Pulling out your data-pad, you do a little more research to see what you can find out, but come up with the same dismal results that your holo-texts had.

It's not much longer before the Marauder drops out of hyperspace and the olive-green planet comes into view. When the holo-text said that Scorro was primitive, it wasn't kidding. It looks new and unabused by modern progress, and its vegetal hue is highly alluring. Your curiosity has now surpassed your trepidation about the rumors and missing clones. You're excited. This is a great opportunity, even if it's dangerous. The closer you get to the planet, the faster your heart beats.

“According to the scanners, there are no active fauna on this planet,” Tech states. "But the air is breathable."

“Just because the air is breathable doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” you point out. “Carbon monoxide is breathable but you’ll die before you figure out it’s bad for you.”

“Correction,” Tech adds. "The air is non-toxic towards human life-forms."

"Glad we could sort that one out," Crosshair says. "Any more words of wisdom?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "No."

"Take us in," Hunter says. "Land just outside the coordinates of the last clone squadron."

"Affirmative," Tech says, then flips a few switches before piloting the ship into the planet's atmosphere.

Once the ship has landed, Hunter addresses the group. "Our mission is to locate the two missing clone squadrons and investigate the rumors about an separatist base of operations. We'll use teams of two and spread out in an 800 meter radius from the last known coordinates. Keep the comm lines open and have your blasters at the ready."

Everyone nods and gears up, including you. Before you put your bucket on, you glance at the medic mark on your shoulder pauldron. No matter what happens, you have a job to do. You're a medic first. These men, your squad, are in your care and it's your responsibility to make sure they all survive. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you bite back every lick of fear that tries to take hold in your mind. You've trained hard for this, and you're not going to get cold feet now.

The side loading ramp opens and the bright sunlight of the planet blasts into the dimly lit ship. No turning back now. You follow the rest of the squad out of the ship and step onto the fresh earth of Scorro. For someone who grew up on Coruscant and spent the last cycle on Kamino, this much vegetation is mesmerizing. The sun is so warm, and the earth beneath your feet is so soft. This virgin planet is breathtaking. You take a few more steps forward, then Hunter stops.

"Tech, Crosshair, go east," Hunter says while pointing in that direction. "Wrecker and I will go north. Echo and Civvy, you'll go west.

The group nods and heads out in their respective directions.

"Stay frosty men," Hunter says over the comms. "There's no telling what we'll be up against out here."

You and Echo silently walk towards the western end of the perimeter, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of the clone troopers or separatists. After a couple minutes, the silence grates on your nerves, but Echo seems focused right now. A little too focused. You know this mission bothered him from the beginning, but there seems to be something else about the way he carries himself that indicates it's not just about the mission being odd. There's something deeper.

As you continue forward, your foot kicks something hard. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the familiar white plastoid clone trooper helmet, which is attached to a body shrouded by tall weeds. Your stomach flips. You weren't expecting to find one of them so quickly.

"Sarge," you say in the comms. "I found a trooper." Crouching down, you check for a pulse, but as you expected, there is none. "He's dead."

"We're making our way to your position now," Hunter says. "How'd he die?"

While your medic training didn't have an autopsy course, you inspect the body for the usual suspects. The armor is still intact and there's no signs of a struggle, which you find odd. There's no blaster marks, claw marks, bites, or scratches on the armor either. The black bodysuit isn't even ripped. He must have died from something. You pull back some of the black bodysuit and notice the tissue is necrotizing, but you don't see anything suspicious. Then you scan the body.

"Civvy, status," Hunter interjects over comms.

"I'm not sure how he died," you admit while reviewing the results of the scan. Echo looks over the body too, but doesn't come up with anything substantial. Not that you needed a second opinion.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Hunter asks. "You're a medic, you should know how people die."

"There's no wounds," you explain. "He looks normal. Fine, even. Besides being dead." You don't mention it, but the fact that there are no organisms feasting on the clone's flesh also baffles you. You'd figure there would be more decay markers, but there's not even a single worm.

Hunter and Wrecker make it to your position and Hunter looks over the body, confirming what you said. "Then how the kriff did he die?"

You look up at Hunter from your crouched position next to the body and shrug. "We'd need a full autopsy to determine that, but the scans indicate no internal injuries either."

"So, he died from nothing?" Echo asks.

You shrug again. "Maybe he had a heart attack. That doesn't show up on portable scanners."

"Eighteen clone troopers died of a heart attack?" Hunter asks, his voice sounding distant.

"No," you rebut. "But maybe this one did."

Hunter points past you and you stand up to see what he wants you to look at. You tilt your head from side to side, scanning the area he's pointing at, when a glint of white pops up on your HUD. Then another. And another. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes. The ground is littered with seventeen more troopers half-covered in tall weeds. The first squad and the second squad, dead mere meters from each other. You've never seen so many dead bodies before.

You feel your stomach grow queasy, and you rip off your helmet to vomit. As a medical student, you've seen cadavers, held organs in your hands, been bathed in blood, but nothing prepared you for the sight of a mass death. There's something menacing and sickly about it. You know most clones are never retrieved from battlegrounds and you know most clones will never see a proper burial, but knowing and witnessing are two different things. It's heartbreaking.

"You all right?" Echo asks.

You pant from the spasmic exertion, but find your voice. "I'm fine."

Tech and Crosshair arrive at your position soon after, and take note of the bodies. Everyone feels it now, the pressure looming thickly in the air. Something happened on this planet. Something killed these eighteen troopers and it killed them silently. There's an anxiety that creeps in as you wonder what it possibly could be. What is the silent hunter? How does it find its victims? And how can you and your squad escape from it? Perhaps, it may even be too late.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Echo says to Hunter.

Hunter sighs. "Me too."

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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themissinghand · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [2]

Part 1!

Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.

You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.

Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently, and you take advantage of that.

Pairing: La Signora, Scaramouche, Sandrone, Pierro, Tsaritsa x GN! Reader

Note: Part 2 and final part of this series, I won’t do other Harbingers since I don’t really know how to write them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 is slightly darker than part 1 in terms of themes, but nothing too serious.

Warning: Mentions of violence and toxic behaviors.

★・・・・・・★

To Signora, you are a sharp sword, a trusted ally on missions in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

You've pledged your loyalty to the Tsaritsa, and with your streak of successful missions, there is no one to doubt your abilities.

Sometimes, there's a hint of playful teasing in your voice when you approach Signora, where you jest about treating her as you would to Her Majesty.

“My lady.”

When you bow before her presence, or when you knelt before her very feet, the power she feels is tantalizing, but who is she to deny?

Your offer, dangerous yet tempting, is nothing but a little gambit. It's clear that your loyalty runs deep, even if it means taking drastic actions to please Her Majesty.

Signora have heard the times where you were much violent and malicious, but even now the shadow of your past still lingers.

On her first and only mission with you, it was a moonless night.

You and Signora embarked on a covert mission together, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Your destination was a den of conspirators who dared to defy Her Majesty Tsaritsa’s rule.

As you infiltrated their hideout, your sharp senses and honed skills ensured that you moved with deadly precision.

In the midst of this operation, Signora observed your ruthlessness firsthand.

“Why hello there.”

A snap, followed by screams.

Those who disobeyed Her Majesty's orders were met with swift and uncompromising justice. Your actions were as cold as the steel of your blade, leaving no room for mercy when it came to protecting the interests of the Crown.

Signora, who had witnessed countless battles and covert operations, couldn't help but be both impressed and slightly unnerved by your unwavering dedication. She saw the depths of your loyalty, the lengths to which you would go to safeguard Her Majesty's reign.

As you and Signora emerged from the shadows, victorious in your mission, there was a palpable tension in the air.

You had a gentle smile on your face, as if you were on a leisurely walk. There were no stains of red on you, maintaining your professionalism and elegance.

“Dear Lady, I hope I haven’t disgusted you with my actions.” You pull out a handkerchief and gently wiped the blood by her lips.

You leaned close until Signora pushed you aside while rolling her eyes.

But you were unfazed by Signora’s action, for you think they are cute and quite adorable.

Like a cat who likes to scratch.

A successful mission as always, and just like usual, you fade away in the shadows to be by Her Majesty’s side.

Signora couldn't help but ponder the dangerous duality of your character—a loyal and deadly weapon in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

How frightening it would be if you were a double-edged sword.

To Scaramouche, you are a mask.

A mask that hides your true self.

A mask that you can put on others.

You play a unique role in his life, akin to that of a father figure.

You take care of him exceptionally well, providing support and guidance when needed. From the moment he joined, you were an inspiration, a listener, and a trainer.

Yet, Scaramouche knows your care is driven by pity. After all, he has told you many things (even when you told him nothing).

So what?

“My dear Balladeer.”

When he calls for you, you answer.

The Balladeer wears this knowledge with a smug demeanor, as if your special attention validates his worth.

“I would never betray you.”

The little head pats and the little nods. The cheeky little smile and the gifts he received.

“Happy birthday my little Balladeer.”

“Let this day be your birthday.”

With your special attention, it felt like a drug, something to keep him content in this dirty world.

You possess the remarkable ability to shapeshift into the very people he's encountered in his life, indulging in his elaborate fantasies.

“I’ll kill you!” Scaramouche cackled as tears flowed down his face, as a sword plunge deep into the Lord of Electro, Bal’s chest.

Blood spilled, but his laughter subsided.

Seeing Bal’s dead body brought so much pain but so much relief.

You brought him close to you in an intimate hug.

“Good job, my little Balladeer.”

Together, you both create a fake reality, one that you both know is built on falsehoods and pretense. It's a charade that you willingly participate in, if only for a fleeting moment.

A mask is easily put on, as it is easily taken off, you play this game of pull and push well.

But Scaramouche doesn’t mind, for he is too far in with this drug of yours.

But an illusion will forever be fake, and just like this relationship, it will never be real.

To Sandrone, you are a rose.

Something so beautiful yet deadly.

As the annual tradition went, Brighella entered Sandrone’s sanctuary of automatons, a place where gears and mechanisms whirred harmoniously, creating a symphony of mechanical marvels.

“My dear Sandrone. It’s that time of year again.”

“Brighella.”

Sandrone greeted you with a gleam of excitement in her eyes, for she had a unique fascination with you.

"I’ve been waiting for you," Sandrone smiled, her gaze locked onto you.

"You never change. I wish my automatons could be as pretty as you."

Her words were flattering, and as you stood there, she couldn't resist the urge to touch your face and body.

“You say that every time.” You responded and leaned forward to indulge her.

Her fingers moved with a delicate curiosity, as if seeking to understand the secrets of your agelessness.

From your eyes, to your nose and lips, she gently traced them with her hand.

With a sly smile, you decided to play along.

You took a delicate necklace from your pocket, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you carefully tied it around Sandrone’s neck. As your fingers brushed against her skin, you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching her ear.

"Shall we take this elsewhere?" You whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful suggestion.

Sandrone’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and anticipation dancing within her.

But how could she dare covet something that belongs to the Crown?

“Your Highness, I wouldn’t dare.” She says, though her hands drop to your neck, slowly tracing your collarbone as if she was a sly snake.

“A shame.”

You pull back with a cat-like smile, and she showed a face of frustration for a moment before dissipating.

“Now, shall we get to work?” You extend a hand, and she accepts it greedily.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

If only you could be her marionette, how nice would it be?

To Pierro, you are a candle.

“Do you seek revenge?”

A light burning so bright in his life.

Khaenri'ah.

Pierro remembers Brighella as a mysterious figure, yet a figure of power and privilege.

The Immortal, is what people called (worshipped) you as, and Pierro never understood why.

Until he saw the Immortal go against the Gods.

An indescribable, impossible scene of the battle of immortals.

But you fell from grace, as if the heavens were not by your side.

That was the last he saw you.

His light flickered and died.

At least that was what he thought.

In those tumultuous days, where he thought it was the end, you extended a hand to him, a hand filled with promise and a hint of mischief.

“The Immortal? But you perished?!”

With a wave of your hand in front of your face, you changed your appearance from a fallen warrior to a clean butler’s appearance.

“‘I’ have perished. But who says ‘I’ cannot be reborn?”

Brighella smiled, a smile that held secrets and intentions known to no one.

“My name is Brighella, won’t you come with me and defy fate?”

It was an offer of partnership, an invitation for Pierro to seek revenge together.

Who was he to deny?

Pierro, brave and determined, took that hand without hesitation. Pierro had never regretted that decision.

You two had a transactional relationship, a give and take as you will.

It may seem distant, but to the both of you, it was enough to get work done.

Time connects the two of you like a thread, and even if Pierro wishes to, he couldn’t stay away from you.

Because he was like a moth to a flame.

You who shined so brightly, and him who would protect your light. Taking on your tasks in secret and ensuring you have the best of everything.

Over the years, your paths diverged, and Pierro went through profound changes. Life molded Pierro into someone unrecognizable from the man Pierro once was.

Yet, you remained unchanged. Time seemed to have no hold over you.

You was the constant in Pierro's ever-evolving world, a mysterious figure who transcended the years.

Perhaps that was your role, to be the remnant of the past.

A reminder of their purpose and their reason.

And Pierro didn’t want that to change. Ever.

To Tsaritsa, you were like a mirror.

A mirror that revealed who she truly was beneath the crown and the title.

One who had traversed the world and learned of the dirty secrets just as she did.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

Tsaritsa saw not just followers but molds, reflections of a world that had shaped her reign.

Tsaritsa sat on top of her throne with elegance, her expression as cold as ice.

“Brighella, report to me on the Harbingers.”

You smile, one of professionalism and acknowledgement.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Out of all of her subordinates, you who have stayed by her side since eternity, are the only one she ‘trusts’ the most.

You were her shadow, her sword, her ever-vigilant guard dog, and no one else could lay claim to what was rightfully hers.

Not even the other Archons could dare to lay your hands on you.

“Your Majesty, may I?”

Tsaritsa returned a nod, and you quickly ascended the steps to her stone and knelt by her feet.

You glanced up, admiring the cold beauty of your master before lowering your eyes to her feet.

Tsaritsa never understood why, perhaps it was your shrewd nature or your hidden desire. Or was it your pursuit for power?

Even now, she could not fully comprehend your heart.

However, she has your loyalty.

Your loyalty was a pledge sealed with unwavering dedication. That was all Tsaritsa required of you.

A gesture that transcended words, you kissed her feet as a symbol of your eternal bond, a testament to the power of their connection in a world where power was everything.

“Your Majesty, I am your guard dog. Use me as you see fit.”

You smiled so brightly, only with her, as she is the only one that can understand you.

“I’ll bring the world down to your feet.”

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court-jobi · 4 months ago

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Sneak Peek: Just Be Gentle pt 2

Gif credit by @javier-pena

I am SO delayed in this, but WIP Weekend it is! Recommended by the lovely @djarins-cyare, thanks friend!

I have not visited my drafts folder in sooo long, but I'm coming out of an unintentional writing hiatus and have fresh motivation to open the ole lappytop back up for a little sample to share. Part 1 of this fic was much beloved by yall apparently, so it continues here!

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x reader

Words: 1.9K (for now)

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Paz watched the scene before him unfold; the heat of compassion bloomed in the gut like stoking a fire…

Din Djarin swore on the deed of his ship that he wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a flag solidly in her camp, and would go to arms for her as a returned gesture of loyalty. From that first meeting when the Hunter came back through the alcove to Nevarro’s covert, he spoke on his companion’s competence on several fronts. Namely, in all the ways that resonated with his people: creative thinking, handy know-how, and something more: empathy- a gift not to be ignored when it came to caring for others -himself included- in moments of high stress.

He praised her talents ‘all across the board’, citing moments in their brief stint together on the Razor Crest as testimony to his Mandalorian clan for her to remain there in shelter– to be the exception to their rules regarding outsiders. Aruetti.

A surprise to none, Paz Vizsla deemed that it would be up to him to judge such loyalties for himself; as a man more inclined to view actions as proof rather than words.

But then he met her. Every bit of what Djarin said was true. Better yet, she proved every assumption of his wrong: allowed her to take him by the crook of his arm, surrendered her best vote of confidence, and let him lead. Acquiesced to his strength, protected it, and encouraged him at every turn. Saved him the first of her meals, the best of her scavenged findings. Took to tending to his wounds herself, because he wasn’t gentle enough to do so on his own.

A few weeks have passed since that day, but his fondness for her didn’t wane like the moon’s phases did. Paz Vizsla made it his mission from that moment forward to carry an extra ounce of gentleness, just for her.

Then, the refugees came pouring in. Her arrival couldn't have been timed more perfectly, Paz thought; he’d only begun to see the full measure of little Song’s magic the moment he saw her skills at work.

A smaller covert made a quick exit and raced to safety after a raid depleted their stores a few systems over. There had been some rumors of their hunter clans taking the bait of Guild membership in order to make ends meet, as they’d seen in Djarin’s success. The Way instilled a sense of belonging wherever Mandalorians crossed paths, so merging on his covert’s territory for the upcoming season out of necessity was a given.

But now, in light of Nevarro’s storm season, it seems their numbers would be doubling indefinitely. The situation proved to be a strain and test of everyone’s flexibility and resilience, to keep everyone content and organized on such short notice… but with a Vizsla as Alorad, they flourished with the change in plans and watched on as Paz steeled himself against Fear, and made everything suitable. Supplies were rationed and rooms were stuffed to the brim, but they would make do.

While they may not have resources with them in tow, they more than made up for it by pulling their weight in preparation for the underground shelters. And that, would benefit all.

Song made herself indispensable, true to what Djarin had said. Moreover, she did so with caring smiles and solemn assurances to the migrating Mandalorians -young and old- who felt very out of place. To those men who lost their way in the bustle and found themselves turned around in the tunnels, she would give quick pointers about where to go– and thanked them for their service to the clan, each and every one.

Learning fast. Paz was grateful.

Upon nightfall, there was less commotion than normal. As the common spaces gradually funneled down, bedchambers were lit and sealed for the night. For the most part, it was the heads of families -adults- who went to rooms for the night as a chance to let down and get their heads on straight after such a sudden move. Surely not all slept right away, but took to tending to their armor and delving into their meditation practices.

Meanwhile, their children under ten or so were sent off to the creche where they could be watched over. The community room was next to the medstations, and as kids are often ones to complain of very little bout of aches, pains, or simple snotty noses, it was the logical choice.

Two crechemasters stayed in the spacious alcove of the Medbay annex overseeing the creche, as well as one of the resident tribe’s kitchen aides, a few men as guards near the entrance and supply doors… and a certain someone -with a voice like the Coming of Spring- that Paz Viszla could never refuse pausing for a minute to listen….

Clearly tugged by the soft spot within him, Paz volunteered to serve first watch over the children for their first night, which made their parents feel that much more assured of their protection. So with blankets pulled from every corner of spare storage, canvas mats laid this way and that, and with juvenile excitement despite the circumstances, the children all got to sleep and the staff interchanged periods of rest until all was quiet by the early waning hours of morning. Even the covert’s local young ones came to join this slumber party of sorts. For the sake of welcoming and strengthening bonds, the crechemasters allowed it.

Right after the 0300 guards changed out, Paz heard it. Inside the alcoves inset bunks, one of the smallest boys -nearly four years old- was making a steady and increasing amount of noise, until he startled himself awake and clearly didn't know where he was. He was calling for his babuir in their native tongue; but by his aimless flailing about, it’s clear he’s looking for just about anyone bigger than him that might come to his cry for help.

Before Paz could overstep one of the sleeping children nearest him to respond, he caught the woman he'd know to know as the 'Songbird of the Covert' slipping out of the window jumpseat like a sparrow off its perch, flying to the child's stuttering form up on the riser.

"Well hi honey, g'morning to you too~ Pretty early, isn't it?"

Seeing a soothing figure coming to his call, little threadbare arms immediately shot out and spoke brokenly in bits and pieces of a particular Sundari dialect. Basic wasn't his strong suit. Then again, it gave way to crying in minutes anyway, so his distress was clear and the language barrier mattered little.

"Hm?-- ohhh, aw c'mere bub..” the woman set the child on a hip as he clutched to her. She set them in a sway, “Yeah, you can stay up with me– I can always use some snuggles, too."

The toddler nuzzled in but by his whimpers, Song moved towards the open atrium with more room to walk around and hopefully not disturb the sleeping of any others.

Paz met her there. She'd looked his way with a pitiful expression, traipsing about with the little one in her arms and keeping his little shoulders pressed in close.

"Bad dreams, I'd say," she murmured low to Paz, in Basic. "But I can't tell if anything else is wrong. Doesn’t feel too warm, not coughing. Seems trusting though, poor thing. " she shrugged, motioning to how easily the child was settling.

Through his careful watch of her across the room, he’d caught her sneaking the back of her hand to his forehead earlier in a move masked as just fixing his curls, but fortunately, he must not have been found feverish to warrant more worry.

Paz came to bring a big, steady hand on the child's back. The kid turned his head from her neck to find the new Alorad tilting his helmet to match, and made a big sniff to put on a brace face. Shy and no doubt aware of this elder’s importance, he snuck out a little wave back in acknowledgement.

"//Be at peace, young one. You're safe in the Reliable one's arms, that you are.//"

Whatever Paz said to this "adika" -as he seems to have called him- brought relief to the child, as he hugged her neck tighter and made himself comfortable again in her arms.

An amused whisper graced his ears as she looked up at him,

"What'd you say?"

"That he has nothing to worry about," Paz shared kindly. "He seems to like you."

"I wouldn't think these kiddos would trust strangers so easily after what they've been through," she smoothed back the child’s hair gently- thankfully, his breathing evened out into sleepy sighs.

"They've had quite the eventful last few days."

She kept humming away for a minute, trying to subconsciously lull the child the rest of the way. She looked absently over the nursery if other young ones, but Paz was captivated by her alone.

This instinct must have been what Djarin was talking about. She hadn't hesitated to jump right in, even though she must have been on the edge of sleep herself- if her state of dress was any hint. Shed opted for no outer protective layers for this reason perhaps- a source of comfort for the little ones, and though perhaps it was also to signify to them she was not a warrior or someone too formal for them to shy away from.

Finally seeing the child dozing back fully, Paz offered to take the child from her and set him back on his bunk above them.

She let him, adjusting her loose cardigan back onto her shoulder. Shed opted for that over her cropped black body glove that acted as a breastband, and the loose comfy pants that honestly have fit Paz better, but she made do with her current wardrobe and didn't bother worrying about outfits too much.

Here, just over his shoulder, she watched the Big Blue tuck -yes, tuck- the child in. Stepping away only when he saw the child try to settle into his new sleep position did he step away and back towards her retreat to her watch corner.

"Teacher and carer? You're the dual package, Mr. Vizsla."

"I do what I can. It's not often I get to see our children be children- I would preserve that wonder in them if I could."

Childlike innocence: to hear the hardest-working, stoic soldier speak on such tender things was a thing of wonder itself.

“I’ve only ever seen the little ones work their drills here– recitations, history lessons.” She looked about the room. “I haven’t seen kids this young in a year, much less so many crammed into one room.”

“Well, the rooming arrangement is common practice,” Paz explained, his trademark patience a soothing constant- even through the helmet, “You’ll find a nursery like this in every covert across the galaxy.”

Then, a more sobering thought, one that brought pity to the forefront of her mind:

“If– you weren’t all living down here, would they be going to a normal school? Making other friends? At least while they’re young?”

As if she expected any other answer, Paz’s reflex came through the form of his gentle whisper: “This is the Way.”

“That it is,” she firmed up a knowing smile. “There’s so many of them, going through so much newness at their age.”

Paz agrees, though knows no other way than the community that sleeps before them. To watch the woman’s empathy radiate from her being -those angel eyes- was to know the warmest ray of sunshine in the pit of winter. Such a calm presence… that’s what these youth need, after all. She’s exactly where she should be.

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #big blue mando #paz viszla #give me paz all day every day #have you hugged your heavy infantry mando today?#welcome to the haitus #paz lives #the armorer #ragnar vizsla

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bananabreadcaramel-4 · 3 months ago

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Disclaimer: this isn't a jab at Tonny and I do understand that he is a complex character that is neither entirely evil nor good.

!!Might contain minor spoilers to episode 57!!

Anyways, I believe the author of Marionetta to be very intentional with what she illustrates and how she portrays her characters, including their actions. With that in mind, there must have been more to that part where Sahed was contained in a cage for two months. There have been plenty of discussions revolving around that and why Tonny would do something like that, given Sahed's history. While his excuse was that Sahed was dangerous and that he wasn't sure what to do with him, I think the author is giving us early signs or red flags.

Regarding that, I'll share two potential reasons:

He might be covertly racist, but at a very subconscious level.

So far, we have seen the overt racism of the citizens, soldiers and how Julia was at the beginning. Then the covert form which was Dottys comments. While Tonny isn't necessarily like the two given examples, he might have some lingering biases which can be shown in his interactions with Sahed, and his biases might be so subconscious that he doesn't notice them. Someone like Tonny might have been marinating in a lot of negative narratives about the ah'kon and it can be difficult to get it completely out of your system or notice the subtle differences in treatment and attitude towards them compared to Kalgratti people. Why wont he treat Rainah like that then? Typically, men of colour are seen as more aggressive, hypersexual and violent, and perhaps Tonny, and some of the other circus members (I'm looking at you Dotty) feel like he needs to be tamed and contained- like an animal or a beast. And perhaps those sentiments are also further fueled by something Sahed did in the past that might have made his relationship with Tonny rocky.

2. He might feel threatened or have an inferiority complex.

During the confrontation of episode 9, Tonny emphasized that he was the leader and that only he could decide who could enter or leave the circus. Then Sahed threatened that his position could be taken. Tonny doesn't feel like he is in control of his life, is under a lot of pressure and may, as a result, lead the circus carefully, in fear of everything he built crumbling. Someone like Sahed or Julia might threaten his control and, again, he might try to contain them.

Regarding inferiority complex, he probably doesn't feel adequate as a leader. He might have made a lot of promises to Sahed in the past which weren't met, or maybe he even got involved with Steinheimer. Now Saheds resentment and presence might be a constant reminder that he isn't that great of a leader. This could make him resent Sahed back as a result and thus his actions.

This is a minor and not well thought out idea lacking backing, but what if he also feels slightly inferior as a man??? Kalgratt being a patriarchal society, they probably have standards for what an "ideal man" should be like, similar to episode 59. While Tonny and the circus members do a good job at dismantling gender norms within the circus, perhaps Tonny has some lingering ingrained beliefs about masculinity that are also subconscious. Take for example, both him and Sahed are pining after Julia, and perhaps he feels like he isn't "manly" enough, since he is shy and isn't bold or aggressive in his pursuit. Take episode 57 as an example when he tries to use the "Saheds grab technique". Maybe it clicked for him (in episode 49 maybe?) that Julia is interested in Sahed. Though I don't think this is some kind of "team Jacob vs team Edward" setting where they are both competing for Julia.

What a long post. I've got some other theories and head canons that aren't relevant to this topic and will probably make other posts about.

#marionetta #marionetta webtoon #tonny marionetta #sahed marionetta #julia lazarrett

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corellianhounds · 5 months ago

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i think people are so focused on din being such a good dad (or daddy) that they forget that he really doesn't care about other people (not related to him in any way) in general. he saved villages and towns because he was paid to or he gets something in exchange, not from the goodness of his heart. this says a lot about his moral compass as a character and i love that about him. so many people think he's kind and caring because they only ever really see him with grogu but outside of that he's a cold and calculating individual who can be merciless in his job.

I do think the focus of the character skews in favor of those first two options in fandom like you said, but I’d disagree in saying he doesn’t care about other people beyond what transactions he has with them; the flashbacks he has of Aq Vetina highlight the fact the Mandalorians showed up to save people who couldn’t save themselves, and those are the people he was then raised by. They’re a community-oriented people, and though they’re wary of outsiders for good reason, supplemental SW material says they’re generally not openly hostile unless somebody else throws the first punch, and hospitality extended to friendly allies or strangers is encouraged. Mando says “Thank you” a lot and that speaks to more than just good manners to me. He builds relationships. If he didn’t care about people, he wouldn’t have formed a connection with or gone back for the kid in the very beginning, which I think speaks the most to his character because that kind of care isn’t born in a vacuum.

The longer answer is that though we know Mando specifically cares about his clan and covert, I think that sense of community and the desire to see other people safe extends to the Sorgan village and Mos Pelgo too, same as it does to the individuals he makes friends with along the way.

Peli had already fixed his ship by the time he got back to the hangar that night in “The Gunslinger” and if she hadn’t, there’s plenty of other mechanics on Tatooine; if he only cared about the kid, he could’ve shot Peli to get her out of the way the second he saw the three of them so he could get a clear shot of Calican. He also didn’t have to overpay her to make up for the trouble before leaving, but money is also one of the only ways he CAN smooth over the problems he causes people so that’s all he could do there by way of apology

He could have just killed Cara Dune when she attacked him first, but he didn’t pull his gun until she did and still retained the presence of mind to see if a truce could be found since she also didn’t shoot the kid the moment she saw him, nor did she use his own distraction to get a shot in

The guilt trip the Frog Lady invokes by appealing to his sense of family and holding him to the reputation of Mandalorians being honorable and keeping their word wouldn’t have worked if he didn’t care about her beyond what information he thought he already wasn’t going to get because their situation seemed hopeless.

He didn’t have to let the crew in “The Prisoner” live if he didn’t think everybody— even the people who betray him— deserved at least one chance. He could’ve killed Karga at the end of “The Sin,” but he specifically shot Karga where he knew for a fact Karga had beskar shielding him.

He’s sad when it becomes clear IG-11 is going to sacrifice himself in the finale, and he made it a point to give Kuiil a proper burial.

Part of the reason everything he does feels transactional is because 1. Trading and working have been his primary interactions with people as a lone hunter who spends the majority of his adult life working paycheck to paycheck, and 2. Mando shows his care for others by doing things. His abilities and actions aren’t just currency, but the loudest way he has or knows how to show his care or gratitude. He’s not big on words or physical touch (lone hunter/survivalist, emotionally reclusive, guarded Mandalorian), he can’t afford to spend time with people and likely knows the reputation and staunch refusal to remove his armor and helmet make it hard to connect on a personal level and be good company in casual settings (best shown in how he never eats around anybody, except the kid), and he lives a meager life with few creature comforts himself, so any physical gifts he can give or share are few and far in between, but are also practical and/or the results of the actions he took to acquire them (a better cradle and chainmail for Grogu, beskar for the covert, blankets for the Frog Lady, soup for Cara Dune in the lodge, dragon meat for Peli, heck even his willingness to relinquish the armor to Fett could fall under that category), and that same thought process tracks for gifts given to him or how he views them given between other people

Mando wanted to lay low on Sorgan long term and he asked after lodging in the farm village— If he didn’t care about the people when the job turned out to be bigger/more dangerous than anticipated, he wouldn’t have stuck around and risked his neck when he very easily could have moved on. He’s got a ship, he’s got fuel, it’s a big planet, and right now nobody’s chasing him. Instead he tells the village they have to pick up and move if they want to stay safe (which makes sense coming from a nomad whose own people, it’s implied, have had to relocate several times because of encroaching danger), which negates his whole purpose in coming to them in the first place if his regard of them is only transactional (if he really wanted to stay somewhere and needed their community to be that homebase, he would have started with the idea of telling them to cowboy up and fight so he could by extension stay there). He still could have ditched at any point, grabbed the kid and took off, but he didn’t.

Same could be said for Mos Pelgo. Those townsfolk were more capable than the ones on Sorgan, but their physical opponent is about a thousand times bigger than two dozen bandits and a Walker. Yes Din wanted the marshal’s armor, but realistically he shouldn’t have had to bargain with anything for it and would have been justified in fighting or killing the marshal and forcing him to give it up. The Krayt dragon is an absurd job from an outside perspective, and Din easily has fifty pounds on the marshal and would absolutely win in a close quarters fight; he didn’t have to agree to help the people of the town, and he never indicates that he’s going to double cross the marshal and take the armor while they’re out in the desert alone. Mando sees and respects how Vanth takes care of people and mediates between not just the townsfolk, but learns to mediate between the town and the Tuskens. Mando wouldn’t make it a point to be a mediator himself if he didn’t think the people around him were worth the peace, safety and cooperation he helps them find.

There’s a fine line the writers need to walk when it comes to characterizing him because he does have a resigned, realistic, occasionally harsh understanding of the world and how things don't always work out for people. He’s old enough in a dangerous galaxy to have experienced some of the worst it has to offer, and he can really only take things day by day without a guarantee of tomorrow— It gives him an objective understanding of the idea that you can’t save everyone, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. Mercy often goes hand-in-hand with compassion. We have evidence of him stepping forward to protect people who can’t protect themselves (or spending valuable time and resources enabling them to defend themselves), and that typically doesn’t come from somebody completely detached from interpersonal connections.

His characterization and the writing start to break down a bit in Season 2 at a few different junctures; one of the biggest that comes to mind is “The Jedi” because they made Ahsoka the main character of that episode and didn’t tie Mando to anything concerning the main plot. His whole purpose in that episode WAS transactional because he was just providing backup for her to fight her own enemy so she’d take the kid as an apprentice. The writers didn’t connect him to the town or people or the plot happening there with the corrupt magistrate at all. (That's one of my big complaints with Season 2, the episodes where it feels like he’s being moved around instead of being the one driving the story). If Mando is the main character, you have to connect the plot of each episode to him in some way.

Why doesn’t Mando voice any concern over the citizens or situation in Calodan? Why are their interactions with civilians and the choice to save the people being tortured in the street relegated to barely a footnote within the plot? Why doesn’t he ask more questions about Elsbeth and how she got to be in power? Why doesn’t he voice any concern about being two people against a small army and a woman who— based on circumstantial evidence— must be a pretty formidable opponent if a Jedi has beef with her? What is Elsbeth capable of and should he be concerned?

If he’s only there to act as Ahsoka’s muscle and we don’t get anything about how Calodan affects him, then you as the writer have solidified that this whole chunk of story isn’t actually about him, it’s the third act in the samurai movie you actually wanted to make about this special new character who, in the end, you give an effective exit to go into her own show by having her go back on her word to the guy who should be the main character. (We as the audience don’t have to worry about that though because I guess Mando’s okay with it because he never says anything to the contrary. Another dead end with the barest flimsy offer of information sending him elsewhere. If Ahsoka can’t be trusted to keep her word, why should he believe anything she tells him after that? Mando should have been angry with her, and justifiably so.)

I guess my point here was that I’m picky about his interpretation when the writers/fans don’t quite strike the right balance between him being an intimidating, ruthless hunter as well as an intelligent person who can analyze each circumstance with a sense of restraint. They don’t know where to draw the line on his sense of mercy and end up making him a pushover as a result like in “The Heiress” and “The Jedi” and a few other S2 plot points (if not outright woobifying him).

Mando’s moral compass has a balance between justice and mercy, but because his character is hidden behind a mask and rarely speaks, we can only get so much from the rest of his body language and performance (and the aid of good cinematographers) alone, which means it’s up to the writers to have a clear idea of why he does everything he does in a scene. If they don’t have a clear sense of what this guy is thinking based on his character history up to that point, his actions aren’t going to convey the right story and it muddies the character for the audience in unintended ways, especially if that considerable change in his character is never resolved (see: same episodes listed above).

The second season opens with him going to Gor Koresh for information and having to fight his way out of a trap, but only after he gives the don the chance to back down. Gor Koresh doesn’t, and Mando’s retaliation is swift, just, and gruesome. Mando shouldn’t have put up with Bo-Katan manipulating him and changing the terms of their deal midway through the hijacking, and I think he should have jumped ship and left her to the consequences of her deceit as a result. I think the interactions he had with Ahsoka should have built in conflict because he should be at his most desperate, having finally found somebody he believes more capable than himself of caring for and protecting the child, and here she is refusing him (and in the end, breaking the terms she agreed to).

Both of those episodes push to the side how his character should be reacting in favor of getting to the right circumstances for Luke “Deus Ex Machina” Skywalker to show up at the end of the season as the Jedi who will train the kid (Oh hey audience, just ignore the fact Mando’s never met this guy, no one knows who he is when he arrives, and also he’s dressed like Moff Gideon when he shows up)

Not that I’m bitter. But I digress.

A good example of the writers actually giving Mando the voice to his change of heart concerning a conflict he started off with with another character is at the end of “The Tragedy” when the two of them discuss the armor and Fett’s claim to it. That interpersonal conflict has setup and meaningful closure given in a way that makes sense for Mando’s character based on what we know of him up to that point, where I think the other two episodes don’t resolve the characters’ conflicts in ways consistent with what Mando’s character should have thought and said once they broke the terms of their deals.

A lot of writers, showrunners included, sort of defang the justice side of him, and I mean justice not only in the sense of the law and him hunting down criminals, but justice in interpersonal conflicts too. The writers (and fandom) tend to neglect/overlook/not analyze the established characteristics of what makes him probably the best bounty hunter of that time: intelligent, analytical, observant, detached, patient, incredibly skilled, and efficient. He’s not gullible, and when it comes to people who are already criminals, he doesn’t have any qualms about tracking them down and dragging them back by any means necessary for payment (though if the showrunners had spent more time on that aspect of him, we could have gotten into how the justice system operates vis-à-vis who is declared a criminal by whom).

When he’s doing something dangerous with dangerous or more specific people in the monster-of-the-week adventure, he should be more intimidating, deadly, ruthless and capable, but at the end of the day he still needs to be the same person capable of soothing a frightened child. Finding the balance lies in the fact he shows innocent people compassion and gives guilty people mercy— And if that guilty party expends that chance, then we see the legendary bounty hunter who doesn’t stop until justice (his own or otherwise) is achieved. He wouldn’t give people those chances if he didn’t see them as anything more than what they’re worth in his pursuit of material gain.

#The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #character analysis #my writing #Q&A #hounds speaks

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absolutebl · 2 years ago

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This Week in BL

June 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I really adore the family/household dynamics in this show. All the relationships between siblings are so well executed. All the tension and sub text and covert glances in the first “modeling” sequence was so good. I really want to watch the BL within this BL. Bruce is THE BEST. Jeng shutting down everyone with a cool few words is genius (especially given the curt sharp flat way he speaks Thai). Why does nobody have parasols or sun hats or sunshades or sunglasses or anything? I’m actually not mad about seeing an attempted reunion with the ex, bc we are getting to see both that (and how) they once were good together, and also the cracks that drove them apart (and will not allow them to ultimately be together a 2nd time around). I do feel sorry for Jeng, he moved too slowly and lost the 1st round. The captions were not good in the trunk seen, but trust me it was totally hilarious.

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - I finally figured out why I am so tense around this show. In openly taking to task and challenging the soulmates trope, this narrative is telling viewers not to trust it’s core trope - which means we cannot trust the main couple to end happily, nor can we trust those characters who believe most strongly in fated mates (Pat & Mai). This means I, personally, not only can’t rely on an HEA but (as someone who also does not believe in soulmates) I am not entirely sure I even WANT an HEA. This has NEVER happened to me before. It makes me uncomfortable because that’s a core part of my identify with these shows. I mean, good job La Pluie, but also.... huh. Back to this ep: Uh oh. The crush is obvious and the soulmate knows what’s up now. The sex scene twist was v interesting, v gay, and v unusual in a BL. Unfortunately it’s still a BL so the faen fatal just HAD to appear. Will there ever be one out of Thailand where this trope doesn’t show up? Next week is the tried & true uke damsels off into the woods alone. Sigh.

Our Skyy 2 (Bad Buddy & 1k*) eps 12-16fin - Jimmy, baby, why so hot in an engineering smock? Please have mercy. Aw, Marc is back in yet ANOTHER BL. Definitely the current record holder for most BLs at any one time. (His filming schedule must’ve been insane at the beginning of this year!) PatPran are still great, and their eps this had me hooting with laughter (startling the cat). I forgot how much I enjoyed this show and cast. (Ohm looks great with longer hair, but also he’s lost a lot of weight. I hope he’s OK.) OhmNanon give pitch perfect LTR energy. Throwing EarthMix into the, erm, mix is fun if awkward. NO SINGING. 2 damsels in the forest! Also PatPran = geniuses at mock fighting. So much flirting. It was all quite adorbs. But me-thinks Chief & Tian have been eating moonlight chicken. Full review below.

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 3 of 10? - was enjoying it up until the last bit, why so digusted by smooches? Bad GMMTV no green tea for you. Trash watch here! Rollercoaster about to go DOWWNNNN.

Luminous Solution (Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I still only like the high school characters + Dome (WHY so gorgeous?). Is he a magical spirit too? Also, the subs were well off kilter.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10 fin - God they’re so cute. This show used the manga as a storyboard, so I knew the “crisis of faith over possibility of loss” would happen. Still in live action this felt tonally off. While understandable given Yutaka’s character, and ultimately particularly important for the dad and a relationship with the family, I don’t know we needed it in this BL. The book does have a better ending second scene, but it wouldn’t be possible to do it on screen easily. Ultimately, this show had a simple, touching, quiet end to it. That’s very like the show as a whole. I did love it - it’s been top of my list all along. Full review after the special airs.

Love Tractor (Korea Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 8 - I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT IS EVERYTHING. SHUT UP I AM FERRIL FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CITY BOY AND THE YOUNG FARMER. Come on. Korea. SRS? Plus some language play? I just go die now.

Star Struck (Korea iQIYI & Gaga) ep 7-8 fin - Man this was a difficult show for me. I know we’re supposed to identify with HanJoon but I really felt for YooJae. I’ve been in his position more often than I care to count, and it’s terrible to lose a friend because they caught feelings and you did not. It’s an awful thing to hold a friendship hostage on condition of a romantic relationship. Especially if the other person is not sexually interested in you! All that said, the boyfriend ep was okay. Not sure I believed in this relationship, but it was cute enough. The final ep was (how do I put this?) a loser. We spent a lot of time with terrible home lives and then a semi happy for now final scene? Whatever. Full review below.

Vian the series (Vietnam YouTube ) ep 6 of 12 - somehow I keep missing this one, I’ll catch it next week.

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I think the Taiwanese boss is my favorite character. Japan rarely (if ever ) trots out the faen fatal trope. I mean I named it with a Thai word for a reason, it’s not from origin yaoi at all. Yet still there she is. Sigh. This show.

Stupid Genius (Vietnam Fri YouTube) ep 1 of 6 - RL Studio (Stupid Boys Stupid Love) bringing us yet another high school set VBL. It’s actually not bad. I see a lot of common faces whom I’ve enjoyed in past VBLs.

It’s Airing But ...

House of Stars (Thai Mon iQIYI) 12 eps - I bounced at ep 3. Will binge if told it is worth it at end.

Stay (Pinoy YouTube) 7 eps - It’s mostly in English and set in LA so I’m not bothering but the first one did drop.

Ever After (Pinoy ????) - I got nothing.

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS and no, I have no idea where to get it, why would I? (Say it with me everyone: Oh Japan, must you?*)

Boys Love Omegaverse (Japan ????) - honestly tho? Who tf cares? You’ll still tell me if you find it, because inquiring minds... Irony of this airing at the same time as Takumi-kun. Full circle much, Japan?

Tin Tem Jai Special (Thai ????) - honestly I checked Gaga & iQiyi in my territory (craptastic hotel) and neither had it listed so I quickly gave up. I mean OF COURSE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE Lee Long Shi in a bathtub, who wouldn’t? But...

Just because I didn’t watch the special doesn’t mean I can’t gank Lee Long Shi wearing nothing but soap bubbles for you.

I’m not a monster.

Ended This Week

Our Skyy 2 final 4 eps thoughts: This was an interesting combination, and don’t get me wrong I very much enjoyed it, but it felt like the story was carried by PatPran’s characters while the setting and narrative followed an ATOTS arc - ultimately disjointed. OhmNanon are so bold and vibrant they’re too stark a tonal contrast to EarthMix’s more refined and elegant approach, so for me the screen presences and the style of story clashed. It was like a bouquet made up of tulips & roses: they are both flowers and they’re both pretty, but I feel like they actually belong in different vases. Still, enjoyable. And I got a crying kiss. Always makes me happy. Definitely the best of this bunch, and probably the best Our Skyy (and I genuinely loved both the NLMG historical installment and SOTUS.) 8/10

Star Struck. A friends to lovers story that felt more friends to tolerant yet disinterested partner. It was more about challenges with parents and class strife. I would’ve been disappointed if the show hadn’t come out of nowhere so I had no expectations. But as KBLs go, don’t bother. 6/10

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting:

6/15 Tokyo in April AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Gaga) 8 eps - Based on a yaoi, this is a reunion romance that takes place in an office. Japan does Our Dating Sim? Yes please.

Still Coming - June 2023

6/22 About Us but Not About Us (Pinoy movie from 2022 on Prime) - A professor grieving the loss of his partner meets an ambitious literature student.

6/24 Why You (Khmer BL ????) - Billed as a horror romance, not sure if this is a movie or a series where it will air... nothing except that it exists.

6/24 Tie The Knot AKA Under the Same Sky (Pinoy movie on Prime) Trailer - I guess Prime is coming for our Pinoy BL? From OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince), announced for 2022 based on a true story, Briggs's family runs a bridal business but he has never had a chance to fall in love until he meets Shao, a groom to be.

6/25 Dinosaur Love (Thai iQIYI) Trailer 5 eps - from Ultimate Troop about a uni student, Rak, whose partner cheats on him with Rak's best friend. This gives bad boy hazer Dino an opportunity to hit on Rak at last. From The Yearbook people so I will not watch this as it airs. After Remember Me? Never again with them.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Bruce is so damn fantastic in this show.

Consent comes in all different forms. (both Step by Step)

Fight fight fight!

Sex sex sex blow job! (both La Pluie)

Smartest boy in the show.

Not enough InkPa... never enough. Never never never!

Love the suit.

All from the Our Skyy 2 BB + ATOTS cross over.

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? IVE’s I Am

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dailyanarchistposts · 2 months ago

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On September 8, 2007 in Sydney, Australia, the antiglobalization movement mobilized once again against neoliberal economic policies, this time to oppose the APEC (Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation) summit. Just as during the protests against the World Trade Organization in Seattle, Washington, in 1999, the streets were filled with an array of groups, such as environmentalists, socialists, and human rights advocates. And also just like in Seattle, there was a “Black Bloc”—a group of militant activists, usually left-wing anarchists, who wore masks and dressed all in black.

In Sydney, the Black Bloc assembled and hoisted banners proclaiming “Globalization is Genocide.” But when fellow demonstrators looked closely, they realized these Black Bloc marchers were “National-Anarchists��—local fascists dressed as anarchists who were infiltrating the demonstration. The police had to protect the interlopers from being expelled by irate activists.

Since then, the National-Anarchists have joined other marches in Australia and in the United States; in April 2008, they protested on behalf of Tibet against the Chinese government during the Olympic torch relay in both Canberra, Australia, and San Francisco. In September, U.S. National-Anarchists protested the Folsom Street Fair, an annual gay “leather” event held in San Francisco.

While these may seem like isolated incidents of quirky subterfuge, these quasi-anarchists are an international export of a new version of fascism that represent a significant shift in the trends and ideology of the movement. National-Anarchists have adherents in Australia, Great Britain, the United States, and throughout continental Europe, and in turn are part of a larger trend of fascists who appropriate elements of the radical Left. Like “Autonomous Nationalists” in Germany and the genteel intellectual fascism of the European New Right, the National-Anarchists appropriate leftist ideas and symbols, and use them to obscure their core fascist values. The National-Anarchists, for example, denounce the centralized state, capitalism, and globalization — but in its place they seek to establish a system of ethnically pure villages.

In 1990, Chip Berlet showed in Right Woos Left how the extreme Right in the United States has made numerous overtures to the Left. “The fascist Right has wooed the progressive Left primarily around opposition to such issues as the use of U.S. troops in foreign military interventions, support for Israel, the problems of CIA misconduct and covert action, domestic government repression, privacy rights, and civil liberties.”[1] More recently, the fascist Right has also tried to build alliances based on concern for the environment, hardline antizionism, and opposition to globalization.

Fascism has become increasingly international in the post World War II period, particularly with the rise of the internet. One of the most obvious results of this internationalization is the continual flow of European ideas to the United States; for example, the Nazi skinhead movement originated in Britain and quickly spread to the United States. In trade, Americans have exported the Ku Klux Klan to Europe and smuggled Holocaust denial and neo-Nazi literature into Germany.[2]

The National-Anarchist idea has spread around the world over the internet. The United States hosts only a few web sites, but the trend so far has been towards a steady increase. But it represents what many see as the potential new face of fascism. By adopting selected symbols, slogans and stances of the left-wing anarchist movement in particular, this new form of postwar fascism (like the European New Right) hopes to avoid the stigma of the older tradition, while injecting its core fascist values into the newer movement of antiglobalization activists and related decentralized political groups. Simultaneously, National-Anarchists hope to draw members (such as reactionary counter-culturalists and British National Party members) away from traditional White Nationalist groups to their own blend of what they claim is “neither left nor right.”[3]

Despite this claim, National-Anarchist ideology is centered directly on what scholar Roger Griffin defines as the core of fascism: ��palingenetic populist ultranationalism.” “Palingenetic,” he says, is a “generic term for the vision of a radically new beginning which follows a period of destruction or perceived dissolution.” Palingenetic ultranationalism therefore is “one whose mobilizing vision is that of the national community rising phoenix like after a period of encroaching decadence which all but destroyed it.”[4]

For the National-Anarchists, this “ultranationalism” is also their main ideological innovation: a desire to create a stateless (and hence “anarchist”) system of ethnically pure villages. Troy Southgate, their leading ideologue, says “we just want to stress that National-Anarchism is an essential racialist phenomenon. That’s what makes it different.”[5]

Why should we pay attention to such new forms of fascism? There is no immediate threat of fascism taking power in the established western liberal democracies; the rise to power of Mussolini and Hitler in the 1920s and 1930s occurred in a different era and under different social conditions than those that exist today. Nonetheless, much is at stake.

These new permutations have the potential of playing havoc on social movements, drawing activists out from the Left into the Right. For example, when the Soviet Union collapsed, a number of non-Communist left-wing groups suddenly emerged in Russia offering the promise of a more egalitarian society sans dictatorship. However, the group that became dominant was the National Bolsheviks, who are probably the most successful contemporary Third Position fascist group (see glossary). Catching the imagination of disaffected youth by taking up many left-wing stances and engaging in direct action, they successfully obliterated their rivals by absorbing their demographic base en masse. The left-wing groups disappeared and the National Bolsheviks remain a powerful political movement today with a huge grassroots and youth base. As they grow older, they will remain influential in Russian politics for decades.

Even when small, Jeffrey Bale suggests it is important to pay attention to these fascist sects because they can serve as transmission belts for unconventional political ideas, influence more mainstream groups, and link up into transnational networks.[6]

Over the years, the antiglobalization movement has also created an opening for these Left-Right alliances. The Dutch antiracist group De Fabel van de illegaal pulled out of the antiglobalization movement in 1998 because of its links with far right forces. Pat Buchanan, the paleoconservative politician who holds racist and antisemitic views, spoke on a Teamsters Union platform during the demonstrations against the IMF/ World Bank in Washington D.C. in April 2000.[7] Meanwhile, racists like Louis Beam (who has worked with the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan and Aryan Nations) and Matt Hale (of the World Church of the Creator) praised the Seattle demonstrations against the World Trade Organization in 1999.[8]

At the same time, parts of the anti-imperialist Left (including some anarchists) have built alliances with reactionary Islamist movements such as Hamas and Hezbollah, called for open acceptance of antisemitism, and embraced nationalist struggles.[9] This history prompts many cosmopolitan anarchists to worry that the overtures of newstyle fascists to radical Leftists could meet with some success.

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writerlyhabits · 2 years ago

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Ni Ceta

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 5.7K

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 2 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it.

AN: A word from the author – "I'm in grad school, I take forever to write things." This is the second part of a sister fic for my fic Courting a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! In this chapter, we get to see some new faces – or helmets, I should say – and I am here for what they have in store for us! Thanks for reading, we hope you enjoy 💛

This series is also on AO3, so you can read this chapter there too…

Translations:

Baar’ure: medics

Gotabor(e): (approx) mechanic(s)

(Lit.) engineer(s)

Aruetii(se): outsider(s)

Me’bana?: What happened?

Copikla bal mirdala: cute and clever

Copikla: meant to refer to babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off

Could be considered a backhanded compliment or an insult

Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod: (Approx) Don’t fuck with her, brother.

(Lit.) Don't mess with her, brother. (extremely strong warning, likely to be followed by violence)

N'eparavu takisit, vod: (Approx) Sorry, brother.

(Lit.) I eat my insult, brother

Me’dinui: share, give to one another

Aliit: family

Solus mhi oyacyi: (Approx) United, we remain

Buy’ce: helmet

Ik’aad: baby, child under 3

Jatne vod: “sir” or “ma’am”

Cabur(e): guard(s)

Kad: In reference to Kad Ha’rangir, destroyer god in the old Mandalorian pantheon

Utreekov: fool, idiot (lit: emptyhead)

Ni ceta: (Lit) I kneel, (approx.) I’m sorry

Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin: I will always kneel for you

You feel the chill of the cave air settle around you as you rise from your slumber.

Opening your eyes, a soft glow leaks into your space from the room adjacent— signaling that Din is also awake. Not that he sleeps for very long anyway. Rather than immediately leaving the comfort of your sleeping mat to join him, you opt to spend a few extra minutes holding the little one close, hand on his back, as he continues to sleep soundly on your chest. Mornings like these are commonplace— cuddling with the Child until you feel ready enough to begin the day; making fresh caf for you and Din to share, feeding yourself and the little one, while enjoying the quiet company of one another in the cockpit. Perhaps our routine can stay somewhat the same, even here.

Mustering the strength to pull yourself from your warm cocoon of blankets, you slowly rise, trying to not disturb the Child. Two feet on the cold stone ground, and a blanket wrapped over your shoulders, you wander towards the common room.

In the corner sits a short-legged table, the perfect height to tuck ones’ legs beneath while enjoying a meal, or in this case, the morning caf. Din sits beside it, his shoulders and head leaning against the wall, his legs outstretched and crossed in front of him, and his hands interlaced across his abdomen. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was sleeping; but for the first time in a long time, Din is simply relaxing.

His head turns slightly to look at you as you approach, his arms slowly extending upward for the morning trade-off of the Child. Din guides him to lie against his shoulder while you ease yourself down to the floor, sitting across from him. Getting to watch Din with the Child like this was rare— it wasn’t often Din was able to decompress, allowing his body a break from the constant weight of armor. With bounty hunters and Imperials searching for the three of you, danger lurked around every corner. Din had to be prepared to fight at any moment. Seeing him unarmored and at ease— getting to enjoy the simple action of cuddling with his Foundling— makes you feel more calm, despite how unsettled you had been the day before.

“Did you sleep well?” Din asks— his voice soft, to not stir the Child.

“Yeah…” you nod, your fatigue causing you to trail off, leaving your thoughts incomplete. When Din shut out the lights before falling asleep, the pitch black of the cave was not unlike the darkness in the Crest every night. Despite the sleeping mat not quite matching the feel of your bed on the ship, the familiarity of the darkness had been a comfort, allowing sleep to come easily.

However, it wasn’t entirely refreshing— with the usual lag of being on a new planet, as well as the ever present nip of the air throughout the night. Feeling the chill of the bedrock beneath you, you pull your blanket tighter around yourself. “...but it’s colder here than I expected.”

He readjusts, shifting the child to his other shoulder before replying. “The temperature underground remains constant,” he tells you, not unkindly, “It’s best to dress warmly— prevents the stone from absorbing your body heat.” He taps his fingers on the ground to emphasize his point. You nod, and the three of you ease into a comfortable silence, Din continuing to lie against the wall as you pull the blanket tight around you once more, hunching forward to rest your arms on the table, and your head atop your arms. It’s almost too easy to doze off again, your grogginess coupled with Din’s calming presence.

Before you’re able to drift back into a light sleep, he gently places his free hand on your arm, giving a light squeeze. His gruff voice just barely above a whisper, “I know you’re tired— but we won’t be out long… You’ll meet the baar’ure and the gotabore, and we’ll come back here.”

Gotabore— that’s a new one. The mechs?

Your eyes meet his visor again, and with a small sigh, you nod at him. “Let me get dressed… then I’ll make the caf.” Giving him a weak grin, he gently removes his hand from your arm, allowing you to stand back up and return to your sleeping area once again. While changing into a set of durable work-clothes, the time alone offers you the chance to reflect on the current arrangement— reiterating once more where you’ve come to, and why.

Recalling back to the discussion with the Alor the day prior— inquiring about some of your aptitudes and skill sets, tasking you with specific labor, and instructing Din the same. Being a guest in their home; shielding you from any dangers, being given a bed to sleep in and meals to eat— requesting that you earn your keep seems reasonable. But why did she ask— tell— Din to bring you here? When you first met, she did not deem you as a member of his clan, despite your… relationship with Din and your role as the other caretaker of the Child. Currently— the populace of this pseudokarst-hidden covert regard you as nothing but an outsider. An invader. A danger. A threat to their safety. An aruetii.

And yet, no matter their levels of distrust, you are here, by the Alor’s request.

This is not the first time you have had to deal with unpleasant people— those that make the day seem unending or unyielding in its discomfort, or work with ones who question your intelligence or ability at every turn. The only surefire way to ease the inquietude of your cohorts is to employ the same tactics that you always have— by simply doing your best. With Din, this came naturally. As a pragmatic man, he values and trusts both competency and integrity. Showcasing both traits allowed him to ease his habitual suspicion of strangers and eventually, after enough time, foster a fond friendship between you. Perhaps utilizing the same tactic can render a twin outcome.

It can’t hurt to try, at least for Din’s sake.

You understand, at least to some degree, what the concept of clan and community mean to him. After the tragedy of Nevarro, you watched him silently mourn his many losses, not just of the individuals, but the purpose he held in providing for his people, his sense of worth intrinsically tied to the survival and prosperity of his tribe. Whilst those who are gone will never return, this new collective of Mando’ade could present Din with an opportunity to release his residual guilt and shame, resuming his role as a primary generator of income, sponsoring many Foundlings and adults alike for many years to come. In essence, Din could finally come home.

Your place, for now it seems, is to make this arrangement with him, and them, work. To not instigate or incite any conflict, to not act out of turn or be discourteous. The way to the heart of your companion was through patience and compassion; and thus cooperation and communication is the way to solidarity with his comrades. Presenting yourself as an equal, as someone who has earned the respect and trust of one of their own can give them the freedom to do the same, without fear. And perhaps, one day, to care for you and about you just the same as Din does every day.

—

The workshop is lively— abuzz and boisterous.

The cavernous walls echo and amplify the clangs and thumps of the tools, muddling together with the chatter of the Mando’ade working together. In the mess of noise, you can distinctly make out their laughter, of all things— and with it, their camaraderie. At this moment, you can’t seem to recall a time in which you were that happy to be working on anything— undoubtedly, you’ve enjoyed some jobs and some people, but you can practically hear the smile in their voices hidden beneath their buy’ce.

For a group of ‘fearsome, ruthless warriors’, this isn’t what I expected.

The workshop appears to double as a port for the strange variety of ships they have stored, ones they must have collected over time, perhaps as more Mando’ade arrived at this covert. Anything from speeders to small transports. Most of them don’t appear to be in the best condition— and by the looks of others, not entirely operational either. At the far end of the shop is the hangar door, which presumably leads to the outside, where two Mandos are working on a small ship— a CS fighter. A small single-manned starfighter designed for combat, so customizable and versatile they’ve withstood the tests of time— most models still in existence are decades old.

Another pre-Empire ship, I’m sensing a trend.

The two Mandos underneath the ship pay no mind to you and Din as you approach, instead focusing on trying to remove a part from the underbelly of the starfighter. Upon closer inspection, you take note of their appearances. One Mando adorned in armor painted a faded mauve— old paint, chipped on the thighs and chest piece; and the other a light blue, with gray accents detailing the armor throughout. The two of you watch them work for a minute before Din speaks, getting their attention.

“Perhaps my friend could be of some aid.”

Their heads snap to you in unison, staring at you both for a moment. Mauve tilts her head, “Nice to see you too, Djarin.”

You give a slight chuckle at her response. Din can be the worst at introductions sometimes. You look back over to him, waiting for his own retort. Rather than greeting her, he nods his head once, and gestures towards the starfighter, “Me’bana? What’s wrong with it?”

Mauve pulls herself out from underneath the ship, wiping the oil on her gloves on the unarmored sections of her pants, and leaning herself against the wing.“Engine keeps overheating— we don’t have enough parts to replace every cooling unit, and I haven’t figured out which ones are failing or why,” she says casually, crossing her arms. She nods at you, “What do you think?”

You match her stance, crossing your arms, leaning your weight to one side, giving the question a moment of thought. “A ship as old as this? Check the ground conductors. The one’s on the Crest fry pretty often, especially with how manically he flies it.” In your peripherals you see Din turn his head to look at you, as if your jab at his pilotage genuinely offended him, but hearing a snicker from Mauve, he looks away.

Listening to your suggestion, Blue works to take apart the cooling unit they had already removed, working his way down towards the center. In less than a minute, he’s able to remove one of the culprits responsible for the malfunction— a very fried ground conductor. With a little, prideful smirk, you turn your head slightly to look back at Din, your eyes meeting his visor. He gives you a short nod, a silent approval of your correct assessment, his own unique way of telling you, Good work.

Blue rises from his back to a seated position, setting down the tool he has in hand. He refuses to look at you, to address you— to even acknowledge you, instead staring at Din. “Copikla bal mirdala— I see why the Alor let you keep her.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

If you’re dastard enough to undermine me, have the gall to do it in Basic, asshole. You want to conjure some sort of response to him, but ignoring his attempt at a crude remark may be the best course of action— to retaliate with your own insult will do nothing but escalate this dispute. As you have come to learn, anger is prone to rashness. And anger, whether it’s yours or Din’s— or both, is what he wants. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of having it.

“Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod.”

Din, however, gives in to the bait. His voice irate— a warning, a threat. For a brief moment, there’s a passing worry about the possibility of Din igniting the flames of his gauntlet, a favorite weapon of his when he’s provoked. If anything, a knife fight feels more likely. The silence between the four of you somehow drowns out every other noise in the shop. The two of them continue to glare, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your eyes watch back and forth between the two of them, waiting with baited breath. When Blue slowly raises both his hands in a mock surrender,“N'eparavu takisit, vod—“, and Din finally looks away from him, you know things have settled… for now.

An uncomfortable silence returns for a few moments, and Din is still not at ease. Mauve finally quips, “You saw it for yourself, go find another conductor.” She waves her hand, gesturing for Blue to leave. He rises, walking towards the other ships in the center of the shop— “You too, Djarin, find some.” She adds, casting Din away in the same manner she did with the other gotabor.

Din hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave your side— and looks to you, with a silent question. You nod at him, an unspoken It’s okay— with a sigh, he complies with her command. “Fine,” he swiftly turns around, leaving the two of you alone.

You watch them descend further into the shop, until they disappear from your sight. You’re left with the sounds of the distant chatter of the other Mando’ade, continuing to echo as it did when you first arrived.

Well, that could have gone worse.

Of the six Mando’ade you’ve met, three of them have not been hostile. It’s a start.

Continuing to stare off, Mauve speaks once more to get your attention. “Come help me check the rest of them.”

Her request brings you back to the present moment, turning around to see her lying underneath the ship again, hands deep in its underbelly, loosening some things and pulling others. You kneel down, until you’re able to lower yourself to the ground completely, lying next to her. She hands you the cooling units as she pulls them out, and the two of you work to take them apart, sitting beside one another.

“Jado doesn’t like you. But pay him no mind.” She states, matter-of-factly.

Yeah, he looks like a ‘Jado.’

This revelation of Jado’s discontempt is unsurprising— and not unexpected. “He doesn’t know me,” you say. Asking a question of why would be inane, you already know the answer.

“Well… none of us do. You’re an aruetii.” That moniker makes your stomach churn, but her lack of malice allows you to diminish the feeling of dejection quickly. “But that’s not inherently a bad thing. We’ll all get to know you soon enough.”

…What?

She continues, nonchalantly, “Djarin and the Alor trust you; so that’s all that matters. Aruetii or not.”

You continue to work, letting a short-lived silence settle between you, before she speaks again. “I’m Odona. Clan Drii. Unfortunately, Jado’s a part of it too. My little vod.”

You listen as her spiel drags on, leaning in to signal she has your attention, “We both usually work on the ships here, but he’s still pretty new at it— and I haven’t worked with many Pre-Imperial ships. When I heard that you were coming, after being on Djarin’s ancient me’sen?” She raises both her hands dramatically, “Briikase tuur. Happy day.”

Listening to this Mandalorian monologue feels like an oxymoron— given the usual disposition of your companion, and the general taciturn reputation that all Mandalorians seem to hold amongst the outsiders. Regardless, her comment and theatrical gestures make you grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re another ‘strong and silent’ type… Djarin’s sulking is enough for me.” That makes you laugh.

He does sulk a little, doesn’t he?

Smiling, you finally respond, “No. I think I’ve just grown accustomed to the sulking.”

Odona snorts. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you’ll get none of that from me. You’ll replace Jado for now, we’ll likely get more accomplished that way.” You’re not disappointed, the change of pace will be interesting— a new opportunity to learn a lot from. You feel a little prideful, knowing that she’s pleased with your knowledge and ability.

Before Odona can begin another monologue— and perhaps to disprove her claim of yours and Din’s shared hobby of sulking— you seize the chance to ask a question of your own. “I’m surprised by how many ships are here— but why are so many of them stripped out?”

Her hands stop, a pause in her tinkering as she ponders your enquiry. With a tilt of her head, she finally answers. “Whenever we get a new ship, it gets…” she hesitates for a moment, attempting to better articulate herself, searching for the precise word; “...triaged.”

Interesting connotation.

You suggest, “...As in, you decide whether to fix it, or scrap it for parts.”

“Exactly. We don’t have the resources to fix everything. It’s best to spend our time efficiently— focusing on the ones that will yield the greatest benefit in the long run.” The explanation is sound, yet Odona sees your underlying confusion still present. She asks you, “Why?”

Din would blow a fuse if someone tried to strip the Crest… again… Damn Jawas.

You point in the direction Din and Jado wandered towards, “I can see why he landed the Crest over a mile away from here.” Odona chuckles at the light joke, and you continue, “But— people are… okay with their ship getting scrapped?” On the surface, the concept almost sounds absurd. For Din, the Crest is another home. Everything meticulously ordered, from his weapons to his food stocks. Despite the frequent abuse his ship endures, he works to ensure its continued functionality, it’s almost a second layer of armor, one he cares about greatly.

“Well, no one has a personal ship— whenever any newcomers settle into the covert, any ships they once owned join the tribe’s fleet,” Odona explains.

Your brows furrow. They just give away their ship to the covert?

She elaborates more. “I guess it could be difficult for someone outside of…” she gestures to your surroundings, “...this… to understand. We share things— me’dinui— do what we can to contribute to each other, to our community.” She shrugs, watching you, gauging your reaction. “A ship doesn’t mean anything… But supporting your aliit? Your family?” She pauses again, her voice passionate, “...It’s everything. All we truly have is each other.”

In a galaxy so wrought with selfishness, greed, and ‘survival of the fittest’— the thought of anyone doing anything for a collective good is almost inconceivable. And yet, hearing the emotion of her voice, listening to her speak of the tenets you see Din adhere to so unfailingly, the concept of unity seems more tangible, more apodictic.

Setting down the tools you have in hand, you softly lament, “Sadly, I think I’ve become a little jaded to that idea...” you look at her, hoping to meet her eyes behind her visor, “...but I’m open to having my mind changed.”

You nod at her, and she does the same. In a familiar tone, Odona enounces, “Solus mhi oyacyi— this is the Way.”

—

Upon Din’s and Jado’s return with the necessary parts, Din extends a hand to you to help you rise from the ground.

As you stand, Odona quips “Making me do all the work with these?”

And with Din’s reply— “We have other matters to attend to;” you make your way towards the exit, giving Odona a wave, and she returns with a nod.

As you both close the heavy metal doors of the shop behind you, the hush of the cavern is jarring— the noise of the chaotic banter suddenly silenced. You’re only left with the sound of your blood whooshing in your head, and again, the persistent gelidity of the cave air forcing a chill up your spine. You exhale, removing your hands from the door, and slowly turn around to face Din. You stare at one another for a moment, before taking another breath.

“Odona said you sulk too much,” you say, your voice light and soft, to break the quiet tension without dissettling the quiescent chamber.

He huffs at your teasing remark and tilts his head, “...It seemed like the two of you were getting along?” He matches your volume, inquiring gingerly.

There’s worry in his voice, you recognize. Lingering feelings of contrition for the unnecessary antagonism Jado had given you. It must be strange for him, you contemplate, this role reversal of sorts. Outside these walls, he’s a living embodiment of minatory. In his day-to-day, he has to make an effort to appear benign to sociable strangers— whilst you, on the other hand, are as regular as any other citizen in the galaxy— posing passivity is the goal, a fine balance between being amicable but guarded. But now, in his enclave, you have to think and behave as he does when he interacts with everyone else in the galaxy— an intriguing juxtaposition.

You smile, “Yes, she’s interesting...she reminds me of Peli.” That’s not all he wants to know. It’s another tacit question, a chance to tell him how you feel without him having to ask. You take a step closer, letting your eyes meet his visor, “She also assured me that continuing to ignore her brother’s jibes is the best course of action.”

He sighs, and his shoulders drop. “I told him not to do it again.”

Din isn’t good with words. He’s curt, sometimes to the point of being tactless. On Sorgan, when faced with the obligation of informing the villagers of their predicament— Bad news, you can’t live here anymore— his delivery, at best, was uncouth. Nice bedside manner— Cara had told him, which earned a chuckle from you. He usually thrives more in one-on-one interactions; he can be amenable— kind, even. He ensures to give people thanks when necessary, listens to others without interruption; and attempts to be a calm presence, especially in times of turmoil.

Where he excels, however, are in his actions. Whether it’s the softer things— letting the Child grip his finger for comfort, a gentle hand to help you; or the more intense things— fighting his way through an army of Imperials to ensure the safety of his aliit, Din shows his care through his actions. He didn’t protect you from the enmity of his cohort because he thought you were incapable of vying against another Mando’ade. He wasn’t attempting to patronize you— but rather displaying his respect, to not stand idly by when someone is attempting to ostracize you.

His care is a reverent kind, one he conveys with both his body and his mind, a message given with nary a word spoken.

You stare into him once more, hoping to meet his eyes. You grin, and give a soft “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, he simply nods.

You gaze at one another for a few moments, before you nod your head to the side, gesturing to him to start walking; just as he did to you the day prior. Together, you walk beside each other through the various halls and passageways— working to build a mental map of the cave system— until you reach the medbay.

It’s a small room, one equipt to host only a few residents. Along the chamber walls are privacy shields— drawn to create different spaces for individual patients. Towards the back are tall shelves of med supplies— anything from syringes and needles, blood tubes, to disinfectants, gauze, and kits for intravenous fluids— supplies that would allow for basic blood tests, and treating minor to moderate wounds. Near the entrance sits another Mando, the baar’ur— their armor a deep green with teal sigils along the side of their buy’ce; holo pad in hand, seemingly deep in focus.

The sounds of your footsteps pull her attention. “Ah, su cuy'gar, Djarin, it’s been a while. How’s your ik’aad?”

He extends a hand for her to grasp, pulling her from the ground. “Fine. He’s with the other ade.”

She looks at you, “Jatne vod, I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

“I hope I can assist.” You give her your name, she replies with her own; Mavis.

She sighs, exasperated. She points to the first room, “One of the idiot cabure just showed up for the third time in two weeks, and…” She stops, and takes a deep breath, trying to ease her agitation, “... and I don’t want to deal with him again.” She holds the holopad out for you to take, “Can you handle this for me?”

Reading through her notes, you skim over some of the details.

G: He is in no apparent distress. He is alert and oriented

S: No open fracture or bony abnormality

E: Laceration to left shoulder, 15cm x 1 cm, simple, shallow

A simple laceration… “No sutures or staples?” You ask.

“No. Just use a tissue adhesive— I would have just made him do it himself; but he can’t reach it.” Her annoyance seeps through her voice again, “So, don’t waste any bacta on that,” she replies, pointedly. She mumbles under her breath, shaking her head, “Kad knows that utreekov will be back here next week.” She looks at Din, who gives her a sympathetic shrug.

She must be the only medic here.

You nod in understanding, “...I’ll take care of him, Mavis.” You turn around to walk towards the room, reading through the rest of her notes. Din and the baar’ur carry on in conversation as you approach the line of privacy shades.

Standing before the first room, you use the corner of the holo pad to tap upon the pole holding the curtain— a sound to alert the patient of your arrival, “Can I come in?” you ask.

A moment of silence greets you, before a deep voice answers “...Sure.”

Slowly drawing back the curtain just wide enough to allow you entry, you step in.

A familiar Mando sits before you. The idiot cabur.

The same idiot cabur you met yesterday— the very one that glowered into your karking soul like he craved nothing more than to break you in half. The sight of him makes your stomach sink— dread coursing through your bones, your nerves firing to prepare for his inevitable attack— skin electric, heart racing, blood cold.

You’re not safe.

You breathe, trying to will your voice to return once more. Taking a moment, your eyes scan up and down his form— assessing his position. He’s slouched, sitting atop the bed, one leg tucked underneath the other, a hand pressed against the injured shoulder. His pauldrons and chest piece sit beside him, his shirt half pulled over his form, revealing the nasty gash across his shoulder blade. Your eyes finally meet his visor— almost hoping to find his own beneath it, only to greet the same abyss that bore into you upon your first meeting.

Breathe. You nod at him, feigning nonchalance, “What happened?”

He observes you in return, tilting his head.

His gaze, though not predatory, reveals his intrigue. You’re enigmatic, oracular— he’s studying you, fixated on your features; searching for the apologues and adages that have sculpted your spirit— the flame of your psyche he yearns to succumb to. For a moment, he too is breathless, lost in the sea of your presence, desperate for a mast to secure himself to. He yields, finally looking away from you, to bring his attention to his injured shoulder.

He considers his response, and answers your question; almost timid, but with an obvious lightness to his voice. “I— uh… bravely protected the covert from an invader.”

You blink, and furrow your brows in confusion. You slowly shake your head at him. “No.” You reply, unconvinced. “Try again.”

He straightens his posture, looking at you once more. After another pause, he argues his second retelling of events. “Okay… again, I bravely rescued a Foundling lost in one of the Back Caves,” his voice less shy, but still chary.

His witticism begins to thaw the icy tension between you, reforming to liquescent diffidence— your pulse easing back to its restful tempo, the slight tremor of your hands gradually ceasing. You stride towards him, equanimous and assured, until you’re close enough to inspect his injury. A nasty gash, skin frayed along the edges, with smaller abrasions surrounding it— the beginnings of a bruise coloring the area. Dust and tiny shards of lava rock are settled on the skin throughout, peppering the wound. It looks painful.

Your eyes meet his hidden ones, desperate to conceal your amused grin he’s given you, “No,” you challenge, an insincere jest, “...last chance.”

He chortles, looking away again, almost bashful. “I fell,” he responds, resolute. “In the Back Caves… Lost my footing on an unsteady rock, and landed on a sharper one.” His coyish inflection shifting to one aflutter— in a moment of confidence, he returns his gaze to you, illuminated by your amused expression, having caught on to his jocular antics.

You nod, and try to hide your simper, “That sounds right.” You gesture to his shoulder, “May I?”

“Please.” He moves slowly, turning slightly, allowing you easier access to his shoulder.

With the wound in full view, you work to treat him.

It only takes but a few minutes to clean the area, the two of you spend that time in silence. He fidgets, not in a way that indicates he’s in pain— but rather that he’s unnerved, nervous, even mousy. This massive Mando’ad sits beside you with such tension in his form, as though he’s bracing for an impact; on the precipice of the inchoate attack— waiting for the aruetii to spit their vitriol, to exploit his vulnerable position and leave him more scathed than when he arrived.

With your hands gently pressing over his shoulder blade, sealing the adhesive in place; he releases a long held breath, the anticipated aggression absent. The tautness of his muscles gives way, highlighting their definition across his back as he decompresses. Stop looking. His heat radiating into your palms, a warmth you’ve been starved of since entering this frore catacomb, you’re reluctant to pull away— longing to linger in the intimacy of this untrodden amity that has just scarcely begun.

Slowly, you will yourself to retreat, discarding the soiled gauze and removing your disposable gloves. “Does the brave cabur have any other battle wounds?” You tease, disrupting the prolonged silence.

“No, ma’am,” his tone reveleaving the alacarious smirk hidden behind his buy’ce. As you turn away, he maneuvers his arm back into his shirt. He continues, “...thank you. Vor entye.”

You look back to him and nod, “Of course.”

Just as the silence settles again, and you attempt to leave, he recommences. “Before you go…” He waits for you to stop, “I was hoping to speak with you?” His inflection returns to one of timidness again; but he sits straighter, his legs wide and relaxed, his hands resting over his thighs. Even without his armor, his broad form fills the space around him. Don’t ogle. “We didn’t get to talk much yesterday.”

Difficult to chat when you think you’re about to die. “No, we didn’t.”

His voice turns gentle, almost placating, as if he heard your thought. “I’m Ikarus, a guardsman for the covert. The other cabur was Sabe.” He breathes, tilts his head, fidgets like he’s considering every word before he says it. “It’s our duty… to ensure the safety of everyone here. Including you.”

You’re frozen in place, refusing to cross the threshold to him again, despite his words wanting you to ease yourself closer.

“I—” the words are trapped in his throat, “I failed that duty yesterday. I failed you.”

He pauses, looking down to the floor, gathering his thoughts once more. “I’ve been here a long time. We’re very careful who we allow in here. Having a new Foundling and an outsider come in like this is unusual, to say the least.”

He looks to your face, meeting your eyes, “But this… inordinate circumstance… doesn’t give me the right to scare you. Being leered at by a giant, armed, faceless stranger should not have been your first impression of us… of me.”

His guilt bleeds into his speech, a sadness overcoming him. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, Ikarus envisions you, the terror in your eyes upon your first meeting, your protectiveness of the Child, of Djarin shielding you from his ravening presence, keeping you away from him. “Ni ceta, I’m sorry.”

You stare at him, speechless, in awe of his confession.

Ni ceta. I kneel.

A rare, groveling apology you had only heard once before— in an unfortunate situation with Din that left you both upset— he found the Basic phrase I’m sorry could not express his attrition wholly. He had explained the Mando’a words to you; their connotation, their significance. Kneeling, you learned, was one of the highest forms of respect to another Mando’ade— not only a display of humility, but reverence, obedience; and at certain times, even submission. Whilst his genuflect never came, his declaration was enough for you both to reconcile.

But the person before you is not Din Djarin.

Having a man like him brought to his knees would be a sight to behold.

In a moment of boldness, you slowly step towards him— soft on your feet— until you stand a mere meter apart, never looking away from where you presume his eyes to be. In a quiet, demulcent tone— barely above a whisper; before you can even think to reconsider your words, you ask him, “Are you going to kneel, Ikarus?”

Thence, he is in free fall. Your emollient voice and temerarious inquiry luring him into the vast unknown of you— succumbing to the pull of your orbit, the fire of your spirit. In an instant, his body relaxes— his eyes bore into yours, as he slowly rises from the medical bed to his full height, before bending the knee to kneel below you. After a moment, he extends his hand for you to grasp. Whence his hand grips yours, he answers your question in kind; “Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin.”

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