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direwolfrules · 1 year ago

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Here, have some random Satine Rambles

I like to take a lot of the fandom misconceptions about Satine and the New Mandalorians and headcanon them as in-universe Death Watch propaganda.

Like the idea that Satine banned Mando'a. This is a weird one to me. So, Mando'a script is all over the place in Sundari. It's on the police speeders, it's on signs, it's on the wall of the Cadet Squad's dorm room, all of which is official government property and would have been some of the first places to have Mando'a removed if the ban was an actual thing. Also, Satine speaks Mando'a and Concordian (the dialect from Concordia and in Legends Concord Dawn). We as the audience don't see her speak Mando'a often because when she appears she's usually either:

1) Talking to someone whose primary language is Basic.

2) In a setting where slipping into Mando'a to talk to one person would be seen as undiplomatic at best.

Also, we as the audience don't primarily speak Mando'a, a fictional language with massive gaps in the canon vocabulary, and why would the Clone Wars crew put effort into translating a bunch of conversations into Mando'a for a kids show. They barely had an animation budget, you really think they had the money and time to translate politics into kid/teen-friendly language and then translate that into Mando'a?

Also, Pre Vizsla doesn't speak Mando'a in the show. I don't think he even says a single Mando'a word, which is less than what Satine says.

Or, the idea that Satine banned beskar armor. Here's the thing about armor, based a bit on real-life history. Armor is expensive. Especially well-forged armor. Especially well-forged armor made of a rare, extremely valuable metal with important cultural significance. And if centuries of strip mining depleted the supply of that already very rare metal, and damaged the ecosystem enough that mining it was banned? Well, now the price is at a point where anyone who isn't a noble or exceedingly wealthy can't afford new beskar. Even then, most noble families passed on their beskar through the generations, partly because of legacy and religion and also partly because obtaining new beskar was already ruinously expensive unless you took it from an enemy in war, which would have been ruinously expensive in other ways.

The fact that we barely see anyone wear beskar in Sundari isn't indicative of a ban on beskar armor, it means armor isn't a practical or attainable expense for the average citizen of Sundari. Sundari was a city at peace, before Sidious' plots and Vizsla's attacks. There was no need for anyone but the Mandalorian Guard to wear armor. Does a midlevel office worker need to wear armor to go about his job? Does a retail employee need the weight of beskar plate in addition to whatever stock they have to shelve? Unless you were a member of the warrior caste, which was primarily made up of nobles who either already had or could afford new beskar, you didn't need to be constantly armored.

And since we're talking about armor, the next logical misconception to discuss is the "weapons ban" that keeps getting brought up in every single "Satine Bad" fanfiction ever. When we first meet Satine, there is no weapons ban. Carrying weapons in a city at peace like Sundari is probably frowned on the same way carrying weapons on Coruscant's upper levels is frowned upon (if you're not Padme "Constantly-dodging-assassination-attempts" Amidala that is). It's a case of why would the average citizen need to carry a weapon, not them not being allowed to.

The first and only mention of a weapons ban in the show is when Ahsoka is welcomed to Sundari in "The Academy". Everyone's least favorite corrupt worm-man Almec says that after the trouble surrounding Master Kenobi's last visit, offworlders can't bring weapons into Sundari. It's literally just a ban for offworlders, which is reasonable when you figure out most of the terrorist group threatening to destroy your hard-fought peace and overthrow your government is based off-world.

And like, we see Mandalorians carry weapons. Satine has her deactivator, which we know from the actions of Rush Clovis and Lolo Purs can be a lethal weapon if used against organics. We see the Mandalorian Guards carry stun batons and shields, and some, like Captain Patrok Ru-Saxon, carried blasters to use as a last resort option. The Protectors, who at this point were Satine's bodyguards, had blunt-tipped spears that, judging by how they could be used to block blaster bolts during the warehouse raid in "Corruption", were probably made of beskar. Also in that same warehouse raid we see the Guard use flamethrowers.

Another common misconception is that Satine is opposed to any kind of violence, even in self-defense. This is not true.

As stated above, Satine carries a deactivator, a weapon primarily used to disable droids, but by its very nature of being a weapon designed to output high-level energy blasts can be lethal to organics. When she's using her deactivator she tells Obi-Wan, "Just because I'm a pacifist doesn't mean I won't defend myself".

And this is true. If Satine was so opposed to violence that she wouldn't fight back if threatened, she either would have died on the Coronet or been taken captive by the Separatists. She would have been killed back during the first confrontation with Vizsla, or during the arc on Coruscant. She would not have taken part in the warehouse raid. Satine was not opposed to violence in self-defense, she was opposed to violence as the first option and lethal violence as anything but a last resort.

One of the only times Satine doesn't fight back is when Pre Vizsla and his Death Watch soldiers invade the palace during the coup. If she had fought back, she would have given Vizsla exactly what he wanted: evidence of her betraying her ideals just when her people needed them the most, and an excuse to kill everyone on her side of the throne room. Satine made a choice to let herself be captured in order to spare as many lives as she could. And the minute she has a chance to escape, she takes it.

Then there's the common fandom idea that Satine is destroying Mandalorian culture, which is just ridiculous. Culture is more than just martial abilities and rigid clan hierarchies. It's food, art, clothing, language, etc. Satine telling her people they're not allowed to kill and bomb each other indiscriminately and empowering a central government over the hereditary clan-based caste system is not destroying Mandalorian culture, it's trying to save Mandalorian culture. After all, who'll be left to practice their traditions, to speak their language and sing their songs, if they wipe themselves off the face of the galaxy?

Mandalore had been jumping from one massive civil war to the next for generations, not to mention the wars against outside powers like the Republic. These are massive depopulating events. Each successive war does more and more damage to the planets in the Mandalorian sector. Mandalore went from a lush jungle to a desert. Concordia was nearly entirely deforested. A third of Concord Dawn is rubble drifting through space.

Satine made decisions that, until the machinations of the Sith, brought a level of prosperity and growth to Mandalore that it hadn't seen in living memory. The forests of Concordia were growing again. Trade was beginning to flow. Her people were happy and not constantly fearing war if one of the Houses took offense to something another one did.

Satine encouraged and promoted the aspects of Mandalorian culture outside of the martial domain. She was a patron of Mandalorian artists, and favored geometric designs and art styles, something that most Mandalorians also enjoyed. Her personal yacht was designed to display Mandalorian goods to representatives of other sectors/governments/galactic powers in order to promote trade and encourage a demand for Mandalorian goods. Her iconic dress with the massive headdress is meant to look like a mythosaur, with her earrings serving as the tusks.

She had that classic Mandalorian love for children. The only times we've ever seen her come close to compromising her principles was when children were threatened. When Mandalorian children were being poisoned by black market tea, she threatened the school's superintendent with violence. She was so enraged by the senseless deaths of many of the poisoned children she ordered the warehouse the black market goons had set up in burned down. When Almec went to torture Korkie and his friends she almost gave in to his demands, despite not cracking when she herself was under torture.

And New Mandalore in general was not a society built on cultural genocide like so many people in this fandom like to claim. In New Mandalorian Society a traditional kar'ta was present on many buildings, clothing (there are like five on the Academy's uniforms), and even hairstyles. Sundari's architecture was filled with geometric buildings that only really differed from the Clan Wren stronghold in height and number of turrets.

The real major difference between New Mandalorian culture and the old ways is those not of the noble, warrior caste had much less political power under the old system. New Mandalorian society is committed to peace, because many New Mandalorians are everyday individuals who now get a say in a diplomatic government instead of watching their system get crushed under leaders who only need to know how to fight well. Farmers don't have to worry about their local lord and his dumbass kid pissing off the neighboring lord, leading to a war that burns their fields and orphans their children. Business owners and employees don't have to worry about losing their shops/factories/office spaces in constant bombings.

Speaking of New Mandalorian society, another common misconception I see is people claiming Satine/New Mandalore was racist because it's all white blondes and brunettes. So like, that was a bad design decision by the Clone Wars crew, who wanted to make Mandalore look like space Scandinavia, and it's compounded by the reuse of models and assets. Korkie's class at the Academy has three groups of identical triplets. The crowds of Mandalorian citizens have so many repeated models, hairstyles, and the like, that there are more identical individuals there than on Kamino. The explanation there isn't "Satine is racist", it's "Cartoon Network gave them zero animation budget". Mandalore only got more diverse after Filoni got called out for it and had the budget and opportunity to fix it, which happened after Satine's rule ended.

Also, I see a lot of people taking the word of Death Watch members, children of Death Watch members, and Death Watch-aligned groups as gospel when it comes to Satine. Like, holy unreliable narrator Batman! If the person criticizing Satine is a member of the terrorist group dedicated to her death, a child of one of those terrorists who has probably been indoctrinated in Satine hate from day one, or a member of one of the splinter factions of that terrorist group, they're probably just a little bit biased, ya know? Satine's people genuinely loved her, Pre Vizsla had to stage elaborate schemes with Sith backing to sway the people's support away from her.

Oh, and people like to say that Satine was a bad leader/bad politician because she "left Mandalore weak" and "wouldn't join the Clone Wars". Which is just— did we watch the same show?

Joining the Clone Wars would have been Bad with a capital B. Palpatine wanted a Grand Army of the Republic presence on all the major worlds to facilitate his takeover when the time for Order 66 came. Mandalore was a priority target, remember when he doctored that footage of Satine's Deputy Minister to get the Senate to vote on sending troops?

Mandalore was along the Hydian Way, a major hyperspace route that was the site of frequent conflict. Mandalore's place on the Hydian Way, if they had joined either the Republic or the Separatists, would have made it and its vassal worlds battlefields. It would have devastated the hesitantly recovering Mandalorian people and the even more hesitantly recovering ecosystems of the planets.

Mandalore's position along the Hydian Way also meant that for some trade goods it depended on the CIS and for others it depended on the Republic, so committing to one side or the other would have made the already dangerous black market situation during the war even worse. What Satine did by declaring Neutrality and forming the Council of Neutral Systems was protect the interests of her people and form a voting block to prevent those interests from being trampled over.

Even with all its problems, Mandalore under Satine was strong, just going through issues many other worlds underwent during the war. Death Watch was a relatively new problem, as Pre Vizsla and his followers only got up the guts to act when their Sugar Daddy Dooku gave them Separatist backing. The food shortages were directly tied to the war disrupting the major trade route Mandalore depended on. Corruption amongst members of the government was a plot point in half the episodes of the show.

Mandalore only fell because Satine fell. Satine kept the war away from Mandalore as much as she could. Sideous couldn't get troops onto Mandalore while Satine was alive. With the exception of the very vocal Death Watch minority, the people were united behind her. It was only by running false flag operations with Maul's Shadow Collective that Death Watch was able to generate enough support to stage a coup. A coup that involved killing any government officials and trained warriors who refused to forswear their loyalty to the Duchess, thus robbing Mandalore of a considerable number of possible defenders and the people who knew how things ran and where the paperwork was filed.

If it wasn't for Vizsla's coup, and Maul's second secret coup, there would have been no need for Republic troops at the Seige of Mandalore, because there would have been no Seige of Mandalore. But there was, and Mandalore fell to the Empire. Which led to more internal Mandalorian on Mandalorian violence, which killed even more warriors. Which paved the way for the Night of a Thousand Tears.

#satine kryze #pro satine kryze #duchess satine #siege of mandalore #duchess of mandalore #mandalore #korkie kryze #in defense of satine

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toxycodone · 5 months ago

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What is ur ideal dunmeshi polycule.. or your nightmare polycule, what is the worst combo of your fictional crushes that could all live in one big house together with you.

Oh God. I….okay.

Oxy’s Modern AU! Ship Lore. (Dungeon Meshi Edition)

It’s complicated. Me and Laios have the only semblance of a normal relationship (besides all the biting each other and puppy play shit.) On the outside you’d see us together a lot and be under the assumption that we are boyfriends maybe a little weird. But cute and harmless nonetheless.

Well then there’s Kabru. He’s there mainly for Laios at first (wants to understand his freak) and then comes across me and cannot decide if he wants to hate me or fuck me. Kabru gets constantly cockblocked because Laios always shuts him down and never assumes anything romantic (despite me encouraging Kabru to do it bc I’m okay w it). This leads to hate sex. Or something. We have a weird polycule type beat. Kabru has a constant migraine (but in the best way possible.) Labru canon.

Then we have Thistle. He makes it really clear he doesn’t like Laios or Kabru. But he VERY much so likes me (my whimsy but obvious self awareness has captivated him). Laios tries his damn hardest to get on Thistle’s good side. Kabru thinks this guy should eat shit, but tries to act polite. Kabru’s convinced Thistle is a one time hookup for me or something. Then starts gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the longer the dude sticks around. He’s really hoping I drop Thistle when he outgrows being a boy toy.

Lastly, Mr. Winged Lion/Demon comes into play. I’m hooked because usually I’m never down bad for anyone but I’m down sincerely for this guy. He’s kinda a creep. Thistle refuses to be in the same room as this man. For once, Laios doesn’t like someone. He and Thistle bond over this. Kabru is entranced because 1. This dude is a major freak and he wants to know his deal/how much of a threat he is to me 2. Cannot resist the case study here at play. Just why is Oxy so down bad? Especially for a man who barely graces it with attention? What is happening here? IS OXY WESRINF A FUCKINF CHASTITY BELT?

Anyways it goes like this:

Laios/Oxy: Established relationship. Almost normal boyfriends. Almost

Laios/Oxy/Kabru: The Big Three. Perfect Trio. There is banter. There’s autism. There’s everything. It’s perfect. Established relationship in a comfortable multi bedroom apartment/penthouse.

Oxy/Thistle + Labru: Thistle becomes a side piece but for some reason stays. Laios is okay with this. Kabru is not convinced to let this barely legal guy stay despite how much I preach about how he’s just a little meow meow wet cat. There is a slight begrudging agreement to allow Thistle to sleep in my office. It becomes his room. Awwww.

Oxy/Lion + Thistle + Labru: Messy. Obvious abuser has captivated me (I’m witnessing the horrors but I just do not get them.) There’s obvious history between Lion and Thistle and that just makes it worse because Thistle is like. Only 19. And Lion is probably in his mid to late 40s. I’m being manipulated out of my mind but my dick is so hard idc

Meanwhile Labru is deciding how they’re gonna free me from this prison. Thistle helps. Kabru and Thistle kinda stop hating each other and form a truce (however they never really get romantic. Thistle is an Oxy simp through and through.)

Anyways it’s crazy. It makes it even more difficult because Lion starts to paying rent for me (“as a gift”, but it’s just another means of control) and Labru, being two 20s losers (Laios is a retail worker and Kabru is a student) are weighing the pros and cons of being financially stable versus having their partner basically. Under some guys thumb.

Thistle isn’t paying rent but he should (literally comes from a rich fam). We make him cover groceries (he indulges in my need for fancy ice cream. He’s swiping Daddy Delgal’s card without even thinking).

#ITS INSANE HERE IN MY MIND PALACE OKAY.#a peek into my inner machinations…#I’m a twisted fucking cycle path #is it obvious I’m so fucking autistic. Bye.#suck my ask

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kivaember · 9 months ago

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woe, ftm walter be upon ye (yes this is actually canon to apv btw)

Somedays, Carla had to laugh at how far she'd fallen.

Well-respected Institute scientist, lauded for her efforts in the C-weapon project and incorporating Coral into AI neural networks... reduced to a penniless scrapper in the underbelly of one of Ganymede's colonies, barely making ends meet because of the UEG's broken form of capitalism.

It was intentional to an extent, though. If it had just been her, riding the massive wave of Rubiconian refugees after the Fires had slagged their planet to smouldering ash, she would've thrust her hand up high and declared her credentials at the immigration office. The UEG had hoovered up every single scientist or technician it could get its greedy little paws on in the aftermath, and from what Carla had seen they were living it large right now. A luxurious little corporate cage as they regurgitated all of Rubicon's little technological miracles for the UEG to warp and manipulate.

She hoped they choked on their feed, honestly, but she was self-aware enough to know that would've been her too, if she'd been alone. But she wasn't.

"Hey, Walter! It's time to close up shop!"

Her voice rang across their large, open garage, cluttered with broken down machinery and mechs alike, a literal maze of trip hazards and health violations that would've gotten her shutdown if this was on the surface. But it wasn't. No one gave a shit what anyone did down here in the slums, so long as their little worker bees kept on working, kept on producing... and didn't, gasp, form unions.

Carla was a one-man show, though- okay, technically three, if you counted Walter and Chatty, but she was wisely keeping away from that business. All power to the people and all that, fuck the bourgeois, eat the rich, etc, etc, but Carla had a purpose she was gunning for, and social liberation didn't come under that. So, for now, it was just her and Walter, working in a deathtrap of a scrapper garage, with Chatty sitting quietly in the background pretending to be dumb security system rather than a fully fledged AI (that can and has ran circles around the security AIs on Ganymede - lots of dirty laundry in many people's drawers on this moon).

A groaning, screeching rattle echoed through the garage, signifying the shutter doors being closed. Carla pushed herself up from where she'd been squatting over a dismembered construction mech arm, trying to extract the intact gyroscopes inside. These things sold pretty sell second hand... or third... or fourth... well, you got the idea.

"Oof, all this bending over is ruining my back..." she grumbled, pressing her oil-stained hands against her lower back and applying pressure, feeling how tight and knotted it was. "I feel old as shit."

"You are old as shit."

Carla scoffed and turned to see Walter lurking in the shadows like the anti-social freak that he was. His brown hair was a little flyaway than usual, darkened from where he'd accidentally rubbed oil into it from his hands, and his mechanic jumpsuit was partially unzipped, his pale skin faintly flushed from exertion and damp with sweat.

He was a lot more modest about the unzipping, though. Carla had whacked hers down all the way to the midriff, because this shitty garage got hot no matter how much she tried finangling some kind of air conditioning down here. The air was too full of smog and other pollutants that trapped heat and discouraged the human way of cooling down via sweat evaporation. It was a torturous existence... and made Carla and Walter walk around like they were auditioning for some kind of "Mechanics Gone Wild!" calendar.

"Hey, you shouldn't be backtalking your boss like that!" Carla mock-scolded, planting her hands on her hips. "What if I decided to dock your pay?"

"Well, you'd have to pay me first," Walter said flatly, pinching the front of his jumpsuit and flapping it slightly to cool himself down. "I'm working here for free, remember?"

"Oh yeah. That's true," Carla hummed, cupping her jaw thoughtfully. "Well! Carry on, then! Can't control you if I'm not in charge of your pay, haha!"

Walter rolled his eyes, forever unimpressed with her cavalier attitude and jokes, despite her best attempts. He was too much like his father sometimes, though Carla knew better than to say that. Walter had more daddy issues than an entire soap opera cast combined, and the one time she'd made a comment about how Walter was looking more like his father now that he was a little older and.... brrrrr! The dark side of the moon had been tropical in comparison!

this kid, she thought exasperatedly, he needs to loosen up...

"Got any plans tonight?" she asked as they made their way to the rear of the garage, where they both lived out of. It wasn't anything impressive compared to their immaculate lodgings on the Xylem in another lifetime, but compared to the rest of the gutter rats around here, they were living it up large. Two bedrooms for privacy and their own kitchen and bathroom with functioning plumbing? They were like royalty! Royal rats, the pair of them, hah.

"None," Walter replied. "Why, do you need me for something?"

"Yeah, as a chaperone," Carla teased, nudging him with her elbow. "We should hit up the bars. You're an adult now, you should be living it large before we've gotta focus on the job."

Walter's expression said he'd rather belly crawl over barbed wire.

"I'd rather belly crawl over barbed wire," he said.

"Aw, c'mon! Stop being a Debbie Downer." Carla nudged him with her elbow, and weaved out of the way when he tried to nudge her back. "You're really going to leave me hanging? Leave your old as shit guardian to wander the bars alone... defenceless... helpless against any ne'er-do-wells-"

Walter snorted. "You're anything but helpless. If anything I should be protecting the local population from you, cougar."

"Cougar! Well, you're right. I do like my men young and cute," Carla teased with a wink, just to see his reaction. Which was....!!! Nothing. Guy didn't even flinch.

"Right. So, I'd just cramp your cougar style," Walter said simply. "Being a cute young man and all. They'd all think you're taken... or asking for a threesome. I wouldn't want to ruin your night like that."

"Hm." Carla was reluctantly amused. "You've gotten very sassy, Walter."

"That's your fault."

Yup, and she was proud of it. Walter had been such a humourless little thing as a child - through no fault of his own, admittedly. Growing up in the Xylem had been a lonely, neglectful existence, and being uprooted from that to flee to a colony that viewed him as nothing but an unwanted mouth to feed just compounded whatever fucked up issues that childhood of neglect had lain the foundations for. It made sense that whatever sense of humour Carla tried to impart in him turned all warped and twisted and a little mean.

But! Humour was humour! When things got bad, all you had to do was laugh! Walter wasn't the laughing type, but she'd take this! Better than nothing!

"Well, you're coming out anyway," she said. "No ifs or buts! You've just been rotting away in your room, brooding about pointless crap. Just come out and have a few drinks. Unwind a little."

"No."

"I'll have Chatty recite all the poetry I wrote since we left-"

"Okay, just a few drinks," Walter immediately u-turned.

Hah. Gottem.

If growing up with Carla taught Walter one thing, it was learning how to pick his battles.

He wasn't a drinker, and the bars down in the slums were as seedy as you'd expected: the alcohol was moonshine or contrabrand, drugs were commonly traded in the background, and there was always a risk of the Ganymede Guards crashing the party to arrest a few people for encouraging socialist gatherings. Walter just didn't see the point in getting involved in that crap, but Carla always was seduced by dangerous or ill-advised things.

She also had a short attention span. As they stood at the bar, knocking back the probably toxic swill being sold, Carla eventually got pulled away by some people she knew in the scrapping business, her obnoxiously loud laughter audible even over the ambient chatter.

Walter took that as his cue to finish his drink and leave.

Broken glass crunched under his boots as he stepped out into the street, burying his hands into the pockets of his mechanic jumpsuit. The air was smoggy and thick with a wet, unpleasant smell, making him feel like he was in a rancid sauna, and he unzipped his jumpsuit that little bit more, fanning himself.

He couldn't wait to leave this place.

From the moment he had stepped foot on this damned moon, he had despised every inch of it. The Xylem had been cold and loveless, yes, but the air hadn't stank of exhaust, it wasn't constantly hot and humid, with changing seasons and weather, he could see the sky and watch the birds fly, his hands would only have the callouses from holding a pen, rather than being rough and worn like leather from constant handling of scrapping tools and sticky oil. Walter's life would be very different, if his father hadn't ruined everything.

He stopped in front of the door to his and Carla's living quarters in the garage, digging out the key from his pocket and slotting it in. When he stepped inside, he was greeted with Chatty saying: "Welcome back, kid. Is the Chief still out?"

"Yeah." Walter kicked the door shut behind him. "Talking shop with some people."

"Understood."

And that was that. Despite the name Chatty was pretty quiet, which was why he and Walter got along well. He headed up the narrow staircase to his room, which was sandwiched between Carla's room and the bathroom, and just wide enough to slot a single-man bed in there with enough room for him to actually get in and out of it.

Walter felt grimy as hell, so he shed his boots and jumpsuit entirely, tossing the soiled clothing onto the floor before walking, completely naked, to the bathroom, yanking the cord to turn the light on. As he shut the door behind him, he looked at the cracked mirror Carla had broken when bolting onto the wall. She'd laughed that her luck was already so bad that this should cancel it out.

His reflection was uncomfortably familiar.

As a child, he'd been told often that he looked a lot like his mother. Standard biases, of course: for a considerable chunk of his childhood, he'd stayed as his assigned sex, a quiet little daughter that was easily forgotten about by most people. The moment he'd stepped out of that easily assigned box, became a son hungry for attention instead of the quiet daughter, people immediately switched to well, he's looking a lot like his father nowadays, isn't he?

Truth was, Walter had looked like both of them. He had his mother's bone structure, but his father's eyes, and his hair was a combination of them both: slightly wavy where his mother's was curly and his father's completely straight. He hadn't really put much stock into his appearance back then, anyways. He'd been ten. He just wanted people to call him Walter. What did it matter who he looked more like at the time?

Now, though, he looked in the mirror and saw his father.

What lingering remnants of his mother were easily overlooked by the sharp line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes, his hair cropped short enough that it was hard to see the slight waviness. He lowered his gaze, to his body which was well-toned with muscle from years of hauling heavy machinery and scrap, his shoulders broad and his trunk solid enough that it partially hid the slight curve of his hips. Didn't do anything to hide his breasts, but he already had a plan for those, if this Furlong Dynamics pilot recruitment programme worked out.

It was strange, though. The more he carved away the parts that were like his mother, the more his father shone through, and the more complicated Walter felt about the whole thing. He hated his father, despised him from the very depths of his soul, regretted every day his failed attempt to kill him before everything went completely pear-shaped... and now he was even tainting this, having Walter's stomach clench and his face tighten at his reflection, at the ghost of his father hidden in there.

He wasn't the same as him, though... he was going to put to rights what Dr Kohler had done wrong. He'd make it so he could look himself at the mirror without wanting to flinch... either because he'd succeed in destroying the Coral for good, or because he'd die in the process. Either or.

"Kid. You've been staring at the mirror for five minutes."

"I'm fine," Walter said, anticipating Chatty's follow up question. He turned away and turned on the shower, watching as the metallic smelling water spluttered out of the showerhead sluggishly. "Just thinking."

"Hm."

Chatty left it there, and Walter neatly compartmentalised his complicated feelings and stuffed them under the figurative bed. It was a pointless thing to brood about, didn't contribute at all towards his mission. Being Walter was a selfish self-indulgence anyways, the one thing he allowed himself, despite the looming pressure of the trials to come.

What did it matter who he looked liked? That legacy was going to be buried, one way or another.

#armored core #armored core 6 #handler walter #cinder carla #fanfic #me patting walter like “this guy can hold so much messed up and complicated trauma!”#i love apv walter he's just a little guy #who commits war crimes #well that's basically everyone in armored core 6 let's be real #apv compliant

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obscurecharactershowdown · 1 year ago

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Group E Round 3

[image ID: the first image is of Principal Shirley Oddwell, a being with a yellow 4-point star for a head. surrounding his head is a blue-purple miasma. he wears a suit jacket of the same color, a yellow shirt, and red tie. his hands are also yellow. he's saying: "I might have...y'know...met some deity at a party and convinced him to give me a liiiitle bit of power. So I made a portal." a person offscreen says: "Of course you did." the second image is of The Cashier, a Thai man in a white or light blue polo shirt and black cap. at least one of his ears are pierced. end ID]

Principal Shirley Oddwell

Oddwell is well, very odd. Besides talking casually and having his text in all caps, he's shown to be extremely eccentric and very unprofessional despite being the principal of Oddport. He goofs off a lot, announcing to the school asking for a student to come to his office when everyone knows he can just teleport them there, and mashing the button for the speaker system because he likes pushing big red buttons, annoying his co-workers and students in the process. He rushes his choices and doesn't explain much at all, even when trying to get the protagonist to go to his school the first time, to the point where we don't actually know said protagonist's name yet. Despite it all, he's nice, pretty well meaning, and just a goofy, silly guy. He's got a lot of mysteries and suspicion around him though, but I don't wanna spoil the comic too much. (Seriously, go read Oddport Academy.) To put it short, he's a fun principal who runs a boarding school that teaches kids from different worlds various questionable classes like murder and witchery, from a comic that has a charming ms paint-like artstyle. [additional propaganda 1] [additional propaganda 2]

The Cashier

The world is literally ending. The moon is exploding. And this guy is still working as a cashier at some convenience store because the world might as well end anyways. He still insists that people pay for what they get from the store even though the world is going to end in a few hours. Then this strange guy shows up and questions him about it and asks him if he's afraid to die. The cashier is like "no not really" and the guy responds "well clearly you don't know what it's like to die" and the cashier responds "well have you died before" and the guy is like "no. I'm Death >:3" so what does the cashier do? he buys the man a drink and lets him crash at the store for the next several hours until the guy gets possessed by a different supernatural entity and runs out of the store to try to save the world. The cashier is just such a chill guy and insane customer service worker I love him so much I wish he had a name in canon.

#obscurecharactershowdown #obscure poll #group e round 3 #principal shirley oddwell #oddport academy #the cashier #midnight museum

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teddybeartoji · 6 months ago

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omg no wait bc you and higu would be so cute i actually wanna hear all about it. i think he would benefit from a little silly and you certainly could fulfill that role!!! im actually obsessed..... pls share any thoughts you have 🤲

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GODD!!!!!!!!!!!!! HEHEHEE HII PERCE MY LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE SUCH AN ANGELLL AAAAHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR INDULGING ME ON THISSS HEHEHEHEHHE:33333

SOOO ME AND HIGUUUU😭😭😭 this is a bit silly bc it's not like a real Real selfship yet okay... i don't actually know him all that well so i don't feel like i can yk officially make it into one but you just wait........ it'll become real soon enough..............

OKOKOK SO WE ALL HAVE TO SAY A BIG THANK U TO MY FRIEND ARI @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat BC THEY KIND OF PUSHED ME INTO THAT😭😭😭 i think we were just talking about who of the new character i'd love and then they said that higu would definitely be one of the faves and well.. i am not disagreeing at all he seems so fucking funny and just an absolute sweetheart!!!!!!!!!!!!!! soooo my friend brought up the idea of me being like an intern at his law firm and............................ i folded immediately what can i say. (btw this got so long. uhm. prepare yourself?)

so imagine mickey the errand boy and higu the lawyer man:33 it all starts out super fucking slow btw (every single one of my ships is a slowburn what the fuck anyway). i am very excited to be there,, i think this sort of a job is very perfect for me aaand i think he'd find my enthusiasm very.. interesting lmao in a good way!!!! bc yk who the fuck is excited abt printing out papers and shit??!!! mee:3333

he always tells me that i can go home (cough that i can go home on time.. cough) but i refuse!!!!!!! how am i gonna leave him here all alone smhhh so i always help him finish everything he needs to get done (or at least everything i can help with yk?) aand then we go to this burger place that's just like around the corner to finally eat something and aaah idk it just feels very good with him. like very casual. the first like ten to twenty minutes are usually spent in silence just bc we're both tired and just wanna gulp down our food,, but when we're done with those.. we're talking abt the silliest stuff!!!!!!!!!! he tells me abt his cats. i know he has them ok. canon. in my head. he has two. their names are corkscrew and matilda. (????????????????)( don't ask) he tells me abt how they seems to like to tussle a lot and it makes him a bit nervous bc what if they don't get along but then they're cuddling a minute later and wheww it's all good. i love listening to him ramble btw. it's not like he does that all too often, but when he's tired he kind of spitballs a bit more and i think it's very endearing:333

and then he ofc apologizes for said ramble while tugging on his tie to loosen it up a little. he's so hot. anyway. and then he almost BEGSSS for me to talk to him too. about anything. it's very hard to feel insecure about talking too much with him bc he literally keeps telling me that he loves listening to me....................... perce what if i die

i'm making this other thing ari talked abt canon too bc oh my god their brain is huge. sooo one day. higu is late to work. and he's never late??????? had me thinking that he literally fucking dies or smth yk??? like he wouldn't answer his phone and it was just pouring outside omfg i was so fucking worried. pacing around the office, just calling him again and again and again. and then the door opens and there he is!!!!!!!!!!! COMPLETELY DRENCHEDDDDD like from head to toe, holding his coat weirdly of over his head and body idk he looked so silly (and cute). he apologized to some of the other workers before meeting my gaze and hurrying over and before i could even ask anything,, he opens his coat aND CAT!!!!!!!!!! HE HAD A FUCKING KITTEN???????? IN HIS HANDS?????????????????????????????????? HELLO???????????????????????????????? SIR????????????????????????

and then he literally just handed me the little critter asking whether i could look after it while he's working?????????????????? i was just so baffled bc wHAT. but i obviously took that task very seriously. i tried to clean up the kitty and made him like a make-shift bed from my own hoodie. and then after he got himself a cup of coffee (btw he spent almost no time on drying himself oh my god he's a bit of a loser isn't he...)(he has my heart<3) aaaaaand when he finally sat down behind his desk and looked through the glass wall...

and he just saw me holding the bundled up little kitty to my face while i just stare at it. HE WAS JUST SO CUTE OK I NEEDED TO JUST LOOK AT IT FOR SOME TIME I LOVE CATS OK!!!!!!!!!! that made him smile though. bc he loves cats too:333 btw we just send each other cat pics too. like very randomly. he's just a room away and he's sending them to me instead of just.. idk coming over to my table to show them to me in person??? he's a workaholic ok. ahgsahgshasga i love himmmm

OKOK ANYWAY THIS IS LIKE SO MUCH INFO I'M SORRY FOR THE WORDVOMIT LMAO but i really really do like him and this little thing i have going on with him... we're still in a weird little zone between coworkers and friends and ????????????? but we're both okay with that we're not pushing anything we just do whatever feels comfortable<333333333

BUT WAHHH THANK YOU AGAIN FOR INDULGING ME ON THIS PERCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM SMOOCHING YOU SO VERY HARD RN HEHEHEHHEEE!!!!!!! I HOPE UR HAVING THE BEST DAY EVER MY LOVE!!!!!!!

#AND THANK YOU ARIIII #literally owe u my life btw #damn #AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH HE'S SOOO FUNN #HE'S SUCH A SILLY LITTLE GUY!!!!!!!!!!!!#i really think i'd get to impress him by being the most perfect morning person too lmao #ahgsghashgahshgaghasa #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i'm still thinking abt the shipname though #miromi or mihigu.....#damn i think i kinda like miromi more idk it's cuter????#ILYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#MWAH MWAH MWAHHH!!!!!!!!!#perce <3 #friends!!#miromi

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phanfictioncatalogue · 1 year ago

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First Meetings (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

airport meetings (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan is having a bad start to his morning, and you would think a stranger crashing into him, literally, would make things worse, but actually, it makes Dan's morning somewhat better when Dan sees how attractive the man is.

all i want for christmas (is you) (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He finds himself huffing out a small, high-pitched laugh that he couldn’t even dream of passing off as part of his natural register. “Hah… yeah. Mhm. Nice. Morn… ing. Yup. Sure is.”

Dan’s smile falls a tiny bit, a hint of confusion flickering behind his eyes. Unfortunately, that’s an expression Phil is all too familiar with receiving.

AU where Dan is Phil’s Christmas coworker crush, and awkward boys are awkward.

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He’s rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn’t know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

Porn with feels and some Christmas magic.

Beautiful Liar (ao3) - withawhimper

Summary: A devastating revelation from a cute stranger sitting in the bar where Dan is supposed to be meeting his boyfriend rocks Dan’s world- but it turns out that might not be such a bad thing

canon in d (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: dan goes out to a bar and a stranger buys him a drink. what happens next may surprise you! [not clickbait]

Colour me rosé (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary; nineteen-year-old Dan Howell is looking for a sugar daddy to help him achieve the dream of luxury and romantic affirmations. Phil Lester, newly 24 and very rich, is searching for a romantic and sexual relationship. When stumbling upon the other on the internet, similar interests and all, have they found their match?

Exit, Exile (ao3) - lovestillaround

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at the airport.

Fix the Connection - jestbee

Summary: Dan has had a crush on the IT guy in his office for ages, not that he’ll ever admit to it

Guilty Pleasure (ao3) - ThoughtaThought

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a BDSM club and decide to play. Dan is a rigger and a masochist. Phil is a sadist and a rope bunny. It’s perfect.

i jump for my phone every moment it lights up (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan left YouTube behind to become an actor, but years later when coronavirus hits and forces him into self-imposed quarantine he rediscovers an old passion of his - AmazingPhil. He hadn’t counted on becoming internet friends with him, or falling in love for that matter.

just another stupid holiday (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan hates Valentine's Day. He thinks it's a stupid holiday and wants nothing to do with it. When his co-worker Cat mentions some guy named Phil who happens to be single, who Dan eventually meets when he comes into his coffee shop, Dan thinks maybe this Valentine's Day might be different.

Just Making Sure - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan unpredictably meets his favorite radio personality, Phil, by being late for the train journey home. It is quite the encounter as they both had the worst possible day ever before meeting.

Like Father, Like Son (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase (BirbWatcher)

Summary: Phil is a good teacher, he is. He just can’t control Samuel Howell. And turns out he can’t control Samuel Howell’s single dad, either. (Or, the one where Dan's a single dad and a bad influence, and Phil's the teacher who has to deal with the consequences)

Questionable - allthephils

Summary: Dan’s date went very badly and Phil’s didn’t go at all. Good thing they found eachother.

Record Store Day (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan’s claimed a copy of one of the RSD exclusives available at the small indie record shop that he owns, but someone else wants the same record.

slutty, slutty soulmates (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary:

Easy, not stupid. And maybe Dan does have some standards. Not like he’s thinking about settling for anything while he looks the guy up and down, so many of his boxes ticked it’s honestly a little overwhelming. or soulmates and where not to find them

Stranger Danger (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Dan thinks he’s the most awkward guy on the tube until he spots a guy that seems to be in an even worse condition than himself.

up for the new buzz (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan remembers getting his ears pierced and how he’d felt so adult at the time, like he’d done something revolutionary and rebellious. But it hadn’t been in a place like this, it had been tame in comparison to the type of world he’s just walked into with no idea if he’s out of his depth.

With enchantment on your side (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan finds photos, and then he finds the person in them

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #firstmeeting #firstmeeting masterlist

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mt-musings · 2 years ago

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Bluebell

Chapter 30

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

30. Красиві дівчата роблять могили

Cassie crossed her arms as she watched the grave being dug up, trying to hold in some warmth. The rain didn’t help, though it added to the drama of the whole ordeal. The whole thing was surreal—she’d been present at dozens of exhumations, but never of someone she knew. Hell, she’d never even seen a familiar name on a headstone. Neither of her parents had had enough remains to bury.

And yet this man, currently at the bottom of the very muddy pit, could be her grandfather. Was, her grandfather.

Konstantyn Lyvychko. Died 1977. Bludgeoned to death with a claw hammer, which had been left at the scene.

So, at least they had that in common, she thought dryly, though she’d only had her left arm pulverized. It was at least another tie to Montana, besides the murder in general.

“You don’t have umbrellas in America?”

She glanced over to see Detective Melnyk picking his way around the excavator, holding out his umbrella so it would cover the both of them. She huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“This is the first I’m hearing of them.”

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering her one as they pulled the casket out of the mud. She shook her head, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell.

“You been to the house yet?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll drive you tomorrow. It is not that far.”

She nodded, watching the workers wipe globs of mud from the casket.

“I knew your mother. Or, knew of her, I was very young. Your grandfather was so proud of her, always telling everyone what a talented dancer she was. When she defected—it was like he was another man. That’s when we started getting the domestic disturbance calls, the child abuse claims, the drunken disorder—“

“Child abuse? My mother was an only child.”

“Konstantyn remarried after his first wife died. He had another child—a boy—some time later. He would have been about, uhh, ten years younger than your mother. And he’d beat that boy something fierce. The mother too, but, uh, we could never do much about it. You know how those cases go.”

She nodded. It was an unfortunate reality, one that weighed on her whenever they had to tackle abuse cases.

She thought she would feel something, some connection to this man in the ground. That blood would call to blood, that some primal part of her would recognize him as kin. But there was nothing but a sort of professional curiosity.

Perhaps it was better that way, considering now she knew him to be the sort of man to raise a hand against his family, against his children.

Maybe there were other reasons her mother had leapt at the chance to defect.

---

Spencer knocked lightly on Penelope’s door carrying half-caf double whip caramel coffee concoction that Derek had assured him was her favorite.

“Enter, ye who seeks eternal wisdom! Oh, hello Boy Wonder, what can I do for you?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“I guessed,” she said, grinning at the way he shrunk back, just slightly, under her gaze. “Is that for me? Oooh thank you!!”

“Oh, yeah, Derek told me it was your favorite.”

“I love that man. So what can I do for you, Dr. Genius.”

He sighed before pulling out Cassie’s manuscript. He’d gotten into the office at five after dropping her off at the airport and had spent the four hours until the rest of the team got in double and triple checking it for errors.

“You know how I’m terrible with computers?”

“Oh boy do I.”

“Um—I have to edit the original file with all these changes by Friday and I was wondering if I could maybe bribe you into helping.”

“By Friday? Even Hotch wouldn’t be that mean, that’s got to be like 200 pages.”

“304, but it’s not for work. It’s actually Cassie’s thesis—“

“Oh my god, are we going to have two brilliant doctors on the team now? Oooh, I can make her a new sign for her desk, I’m thinking black and sparkly—“

“She doesn’t—she doesn’t know I have her thesis. She actually was going to pull it because she didn’t think she could finish it in time and—am I overstepping? I don’t know. It’s just—it’s really good and I don’t want her to push off graduation because—“ he stopped himself, unsure of exactly how much he should share. How much he wanted to share.

“Aww, well aren’t you two just too cute? How long have you been together? I can’t believe you managed to sneak past my all-seeing eyes—“

“We’re not! Not together, I mean, just friends. Just two good friends that hang out and do friend things.”

“You’re going to stand there and lie to this face?” Penelope asked, having way too much fun at his discomfort.

“I’m not lying!”

“But you like her. Like like her.”

He just sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Will you help me or not?”

“Only,” she said, pulling half the stack of papers from his hands, “Because it is sweet and romantic and so incredibly nerdy. And because I want to see what goes on in Cassie’s head. But, I get your firstborn. I’m calling godmother, right now.”

Spencer couldn’t help his little snort of laughter at her ridiculous request. “Okay. Sure, it’s a deal.”

---

Dr. Garvey couldn't help but stare at the PCR results that had led to Cassandra's spur of the moment trip to Ukraine. It was a proxy sample, the very thing she'd been working on for nearly three years to match with victim data. A genealogical match--a wonder, really. But it was bothering him--bothering him because the proxy sample didn't just match the blood evidence of the bodiless victim she'd cited in her paperwork for the evidentiary transfer, but it bore a striking resemblance to another DNA panel, one run for one of the specimens from her dissertation.

He was familiar enough with her dissertation that he recognized the familiar marker in the proxy sample, recognized it, but couldn't quite place where. It wasn't until he leafed through her reports on each that he found it--the outlier in the sampling. The only male vertebrae, it's box more worn than the others, labeled carefully in Cassandra's scrawling hand.

Rasmus Orav.

He pushed back from his desk, dropping the panel report back on top of the stacks of paperwork and walked to the main lab, looking for Ayesh. He was hunched over a gel, carefully loading each well with his sample DNA. As was so often the case in the late evening, his boombox was blaring, the Backstreet Boys over-loud in the relatively small space.

"Ayesh, could I ask you a question?"

"Just one second," he said, finishing his work before flipping on the PCR and rolling over to paused the music. "What's up?"

"Do you know where Cassandra got the proxy sample for her match, by any chance?"

"She matched herself. She didn't even bother with a syringe, just knicked herself with a scalpel and called it a day. She's fucking nuts sometimes," he said, rolling over to grab another gel to prepare.

Dr. Garvey fought to keep his face neutral, glad that Ayesh didn't really seem to be paying attention. "She certainly has unique methods. I'll leave it to you."

He left the lab, grabbing Cassandra's report on the remains in question before going back to his desk to wake up his computer. It was simple enough to search for Rasmus Orav. There were a handful of articles about his work as a composer, as a talented, ex-Soviet concert pianist. He'd been active in the DC area before Dr. Garvey had taken the position at the Smithsonian, when he'd still worked at the Natural History museum on New York, which explained why he'd never heard of him. Most of the articles he could dig up were just about performances or debut compositions, that was, until he found an article from a small Montana newspaper describing a grisly home-invasion-turned-murder outside of Whitefish.

The victims had been 40 year old Rasmus Orav and his thirty-six year old wife Lilya Orav. The paper skimmed over the gorier details, but mentioned that the couple's eight year old daughter had been found after a three day search led by the FBI, had been rushed to St. Patrick's Hospital, the nearest Trauma II Center. The article went on to say that the daughter was stabilized and transferred out of state for advanced orthopedic surgery, and that the police had yet to name any suspects and that the investigation was ongoing. The only picture in the article other than exterior shots of the house covered in crime scene tape was a blurry shot of an FBI agent carrying the little girl, covered in grim and blood and drowning what was clearly a man's green corduroy jacket. the only distinct feature he could make out in the grainy photo was her hair, which was black and a mess of wild curls.

He flipped open the report from the bones, comparing it with the proxy sample he now knew was Cassandra's. He stared at the two for a long moment before taking off his glasses and placing them carefully on his desk. He dropped his head in his hands, taking a deep breath.

He'd wondered, when she first started showing up in the lab, fresh out of the FBI Academy and milking the Smithsonian's partnership with the FBI for all it was worth. She'd barely been twenty-one, younger than most of his undergrads at GW, and yet with the intelligence, the bearing of one decades older. She'd always been polite and painfully reserved to the point of rarely speaking. He'd often had to usher her out to lock the building up for the night, having stayed five or six hours even after a full day at the Bureau.

He'd known she was haunted by something the first day she walked in, requesting access to the collection. She hid it well, but it was easy enough to see the signs when you were so personally familiar. Perhaps if it hadn't been for that, he'd have held more strictly to protocol, kept her from the extent of her early research. He'd justified it by the quality of her work, far surpassing most of his fellows. But he knew it was because he had recognized that look, the determination in the set of her shoulders.

And that she had somehow reminded him of his Hanna.

It had taken him a long time to figure out why, exactly. They looked nothing alike--Cassandra was raven-haired and pale and perpetually underweight and Hanna had been blonde, with doe-like brown eyes and practically bursting with life. He thought at first it was because Cassandra had looked so young--even at twenty-one she looked closer to sixteen or seventeen and Hanna had never made it to her eighteenth birthday.

It wasn't until he found her buried in the corner of the lab a year later, no doubt trying to escape his notice so she could work through the night, that he'd figured it out. She'd been hunched over a stack of different test results, her head buried in her arms. At first he'd thought she'd fallen asleep, but then he saw the silent shaking of her shoulders. She'd looked up at the sound of his footsteps, face streaked with tears she'd quickly shoved away, trying to force a smile, trying to brush the whole thing off with a witty comment about hitting another dead end.

It was the same smile Hanna had so often forced near the end, when the cancer was overwhelming her, but she didn't want him to worry. She'd always done it, every before she got sick. Maybe she wouldn't have, if it hadn't just been the two of them, if her mother hadn't skipped out to god knew where when Hanna was scarcely four. Maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to protect him, to hide her pain and struggles. She'd never wanted him to worry, so determined to push through, no matter the cost.

It was that resolve that reminded him of Cassandra. Resolve that scared him, just as much as he found it admirable. It was why he pushed her to apply to GW, to the Smithsonian's fellowship, why he pushed her to spend time with her cohort, with people her age. In that moment he could see how it would consume her, if left unchecked. He knew the rest of the fellows thought he favored her because of her intellect, because of her revolutionary theories, her research. He knew he shouldn't favor any of them, had done well to at least appear impartial with all of his past students.

But the truth was he favored her because she reminded him of his daughter, and he was terrified that she'd crush herself under the weight of all that she shouldered before she'd ever asked for help. He saw it more and more with each passing year at the Bureau--she got better at hiding it, but he knew by the shadows under her eyes, by the slope of her shoulders, by the hollowness of her cheeks.

He couldn't understand for the longest time why she stayed when it was killing her, when the Bureau was so obviously squandering her talents, her brilliance. When it was so clear that most days she didn't even really like it, especially in her old department.

Now he knew.

He knew he couldn't have given up, if it had been Hanna's vertebrae in that box, if the rest of her was still missing, her killer free.

He knew why that box was the most worn, why it so often sat at the corner of her workspace and she studied specimens and lab results. Why it was so often the first thing she pulled off the shelf when she swung by the lab.

He'd watched her pour over those remains for nearly six years, searching for answers, watched her add boxes and names, but never any further resolution. Watched her pioneer new techniques just to search for matches, publish dozens of articles as mere byproducts of her search. Watched her delay and delay her defense, because it wasn't ready, because she didn't have practical success. Because the dissertation itself had never been the point, the focus.

He hoped she'd find some in Voron'kiv, hoped she'd find something, even more than he had before.

He sat back up, wiping away a few stray tears before replacing his glasses on his nose. He tucked Cassandra's DNA panel away in his desk, closing the file before grabbing the only picture frame on his desk, the Polaroid protected behind UV-blocking glass. It was him and Hanna in the Botanical Garden down in Brooklyn, grinning at the camera in the middle of the orchid house. She beamed up at the camera, wearing the butterfly-embroidered bell bottoms she'd begged him for and a striped sweater. She'd been freshly fifteen and it was the last photo he had of her before she got sick. Or at least, before they'd known.

She would have been twenty-eight in May.

He sat the frame back down, carefully, and turned back to the transfer paperwork Cassandra had handed him. He hadn't read much into it, trusting her to have filled it out. He hadn't thought much of the victim before--it had just been a genealogical match, mostly likely that of a grandfather. Now he looked at the details, at the rough translation of the coroner's report, at the horror is skimmed over in its brevity.

He wondered what sort of bitterness it was, to finally find a practical match using her technique, only to find another brutally murdered family member.

He wondered if there was anyone left to look after her.

---

Cassie glanced over the body laid out before her, cross-referencing visible injuries with the coroners report. It took her slightly longer than usual in Ukrainian—she wasn’t familiar with all the technical terms off-hand. He mother had never taken to reading to her from medical textbooks as a child and she’d always much preferred poetry.

Still, she was able to muddle through it without much trouble. Thirty years had all but destroyed the soft tissue, leaving an unfortunately jumbled mass of bone shards. A proper reconstruction could take days, weeks, but she only had hours.

Luckily she was more interested in collected viable samples to take back and test than in putting him back to any semblance of rights.

Still, looking at the damage—she hoped he took the headshots first. There had only been one would the coroner had labeled defensive in the official report, though she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d come to that conclusion considering the extent of trauma.

She’d been struck three times at eight, resulting in a shattered ulna, fractured trapezoid, capitate, and hamate and breaks in her pinky and ring finger that caused those fingers to remain slightly crooked still.

Konstantyn had been struck fifty-eight times. He’d resembled butcher cast-offs more than a human person by the time someone had reported him missing. His wife had died of a heart attack upon finding him and their son, whom she’d learned was named Hadeon, had been no where to be found. Police had suspected him, but after failing to track him down for questioning, the trail had gone cold.

Very little of that information had been in the official file Penelope had been able to track down, instead existing in a jumble of moldering handwritten notes left in an old case file box. She’d copied the entirety of it to bring home and sort through.

Detective Melnyk had taken pity on her and helped, though he had told her it was pointless. She’d just smiled and thanked him for his help.

It wasn’t worth trying to explain or convince him. No one understood, because it was never Orav on the badge they checked, on the request forms she submitted. They assumed she shared the same luxury of disconnect from the case.

Sometimes she wished she did.

---

She stood outside the National Opera House and just stared. She’d ben standing frozen on the steps for the last twenty minutes, unable to bring herself to step foot inside.

She hadn’t seen a ballet since her mother died.

She’d tried, when she’d moved to Boston for college and then again when she’d moved to DC. She’d bought the tickets and everything. She just couldn’t go in. Couldn’t sit in the red velvet chairs without her father sitting beside her, spinning the story of the ballet in a hushed whisper. Without her mother pulling her backstage to say hello to the other dancers, tucking flowers in her hair.

She wiped away a fresh bout of tears with the heel of her hand, turning away.

She’d see another ballet—see the theater her mother had spent half her career performing in—just not today.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #mutual pining #multichapter #slow burn #long reads

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theresa-of-liechtenstein · 2 years ago

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late night thinking about the linda fairbairn extended universe as, in the end, herc’s proving ground…like don’t get me wrong i love the whole shipwright and fairbairn thing because of how much it’s been informed and inspired by the bestieworstie case, and i really do think linda needed (someone like) herc at the stage of her life they would have been flying together. but at its essence the lfeu is, if you will, a step in the reaction mechanism that leads to hercolyn. and it has to end, the cute little thing herc and linda have (and let’s throw in linda’s dad here and make it termolecular), because i wanted the lfeu to have as much canonical spirit as possible, and in a similar way, martin’s time with mjn had to end.

at first i thought it would be linda paralleling martin leaving the nest in zurich, and in a way it is because she heads off to swiss with the rest of her co-workers who survived the seniority merger, but i think more so it’s herc who changes the most and leaves having learned more. because linda is certainly not the first woman herc ever fell in love with, that’s carolyn, but in the lfeu it’s with linda that herc learns how to stay. i think he thinks linda’s going to leave him, that it’s inevitable, because he’s so used to leaving that of course she’s going to do the same. but strong-willed, adamant linda has been a pilot twelve years and she’s still a first officer at an airline that martin thinks he can successfully apply to (which says more about the airline than it does about martin, namely, that it’s a first stepping-stone toward a major.) herc’s so attuned he can clock her presence before she even opens mjn’s office door in newcastle. herc didn’t learn to stay by staying with linda. i think he learned to stay and commit because she did.

and what of linda’s father? he has to be involved there, too, otherwise how would herc feel like he could successfully recommend arthur to him? we all know linda’s not going to do it for anyone, so—herc must have learned from linda’s father too. linda’s father is literally everything herc isn’t, has everything herc doesn’t. a respectable child who takes enough pride in him to follow in his footsteps, which hints that despite being an airline pilot with unusual working hours, he was around to make a profound impression on his daughter. to put it a little crudely, he made his little girl, in more ways than one. this child beat the accusations of nepotism by taking her mother’s maiden name for interview purposes, which means mrs fairbairn is probably still around too, and probably supportive of both her husband and daughter. he has a leadership position at the company, and his name means something, enough for people to push CVs on his daughter in hopes that it will reach him. and what is herc next to him? herc with his multiple failed relationships and ostensibly a failed career at a prestigious airline is an asset for whatever experience he has acquired, probably. but linda’s father teaches herc the same lesson his daughter does, because he takes this man who’s been broken in so many ways and gives him a new home in an unexpected place: the wee scottish airline. he must have committed to herc in a way others might have hesitated to, knowing the deficits of his character.

the lfeu points not at itself but toward fitton, in the end, toward a life where herc commits to carolyn and to arthur (but that’s a whole separate post on its own right there and i have GOT to shut UP). there’s a likely misattributed quote, “we become what we love and who we love shapes what we become.” i think that’s the core of it all, really

#em writes #linda fairbairn extended universe #meta #cabin pressure

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nevertheless-moving · 2 months ago

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Ahh apologies to @cosmere-mini-bang and my team mates @pekgna and @curlytale (Seriously, go check out their other cosmere art!!) for my extreme lack of timely communication! Mental health kicked my butt on this one a bit, but this is the mental-health-kicking-peoples-butts books series fandom so everyone has been extremely nice about it <3<3<3.

Please enjoy an extremely fluffy reunion between Tarah and Kaladin in a nebulous 'everything works out great' post-canon that can't be definitively considered an AU until at least December 6th.

Idea initially courtesy of @sorchasolas, beta by @cosmereplay. Thank you all!

If you're interested in extra robb lore the initial chat between @sorchasolas and I is below the cut. Screenshots first, followed by text transcription at the bottom:

[regular text is @sorchasolas, indents are @nevertheless-moving]

Someone: you dated. The Highmarshal Stormblessed. Tarah: he wasnt Highmarshal Stormblessed when i dated him. That was his commanding officer.

wait sorry what? his commanding officer was stormblessed? or high marshall? Mar 26 9:21 AM No his commanding officer was amaram and he was highmarshal Mar 26 3:55 PM Man I forgot that was his title

And that is such great fic concept. the windrunners are stopping in town and she's like ok so I used to know a guy named kaladin and it's not a very common name

I love tarah x kaladin its actually my fav shipe ever and i would kill a man to get a fic for it

Let me see if my motivation allows me to make a fic for it wait

So You actually inspired me to start writing for this…but it was as exes on good terms…im sorry i dont have stong tarah x kaladin feelings and started writing before i saw you say that …I gave her a fiancee named rob…hes a good guy, theyree waiting for him to get promoted to get married…he works on ships. He takes kaladin out on a boat and shows him how to sail and it's actually a very nice time.i mean people are like 'Damn man your girl is going to leave you for stormblessed!' But kaladin is happy Tarah is doing well…and he ambiguously references being in a relationship but theyre both public figures and want to keep things private

You could probably cut the Rob parts out of what I've written and have a good tarah x kaladin reuninon…like hes not even there but idk I wanted Tarah to be happy and its only been a couple hours but I've already grown unreasonable attached to the guy You should write the Tarah x kaladin fic if the inspiration spren smile upon ye

Im going to create a spinoff of your fic where i fucking kill rob/j

completely fair again he absolutly reads as a guy who appears once in act one, reappears in act five only to be firmly put on a bus to leave forever

i just love him. he's just some guy! he's literally some guy. his personality is boats.

I cannot get over the fact his name is rob

you love him too now i see

No i fucking love Rob i love mfs that fish theyre my fav

Hes just like kinda in the way

very hallmark boyfriend coded which is my problem

Oh my god what if you What if you ignored canon and made him a therapist like a full blown social worker

you absolutly could cut the rob reference in what i'm writing and have a tarah/kaladin fic. he's not even there.

LMAO??? HES NOT EVEN IN THE FIC???

this is about tarah and kaladin. he's working on a boat during the big procession. trying to get the promotion.

Oh my god i thought he appeared in the fic thats

Rlly funny

Also ignore the therapist thing I genuinely forgot u mentioned where he worked

i know i'm actually laughing out loud in a public place abour Rob

no jokes on you the therapy is canon now. he's taking night classes on how to lead mental health sessions.

OHMY FOD

it actually works really well because kaladin's in town as part of the queens big social reform campaign and he's checking in on the mental health programs

I. So wouldnt kaladin KNOW rob

Tarah: my fiances name is rob Kaladin: ROB??? HE GETS BITCHES??

i'm not even lying this is the premise for the fic. it is the reason he's visiting random towns. they meet at work after the first slightly awkward dinner and kaladin's like "oh hey rob" "i didn't know you worked here"

Also. This is perfect bc 9 times out of 10 social workers are… really boring people

Rob, who was trying not to cry that whole dinner:" it. it didn't come up." now they have even more to talk about though!!

WHY WAS ROB CRYING 😭⁉️

(Or trying not to ig ⁉️⁉️)

HE JUST MET KALADIN STORMBLESSED

LMAO ⁉️⁉️⁉️

HE IS COOKING DINNER FOR KALADIN STORMBLESSED WHILE KALADIN AND THE WOMEN HE LOVES MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF ARE HAVING A HEARTFELT REUNION IN THE NEXT ROOM

i have ALSO gotten really attached to Tarah's bitchy coworker who i created specifically for the purpose of being like "You're such a liar, Tarah, There is absolutly no way you — why is Kaladin stormblessed staring at you." she has a heart of gold underneath it all. like she's still a bitch. but tarah and her ARE friends.

He…he has the same name as one of the Windrunners." Mim let out a high pitched noise of delight, waving her hands. "Oh! which one? Pete Mountain Slayer? Lopen the Brilliant? Scar?" Tarah flushed, not answering.

PETE MPUNTAIN SLAYER

LOPENT EH BRILLIANT

his name is SKAR not Scar you FAKE. ASS. FANS. /j

everyone calls him scar now :/ price of fame. he can HEAR the difference the way spiderman can hear the hyphen

Sketch page for the Cosmere Mini Bang!

Sadly the fic won't be posted, but for context; Tarah (and her friends) meet Highmarshal Kaladin, now that he's a sort of hero and celebrity, and it's VERY awkward, from all angles.

#stormlight archive #Tarah Stormlight #kaladin stormblessed #cosmere mini bang #stone soup #nevertheless cosmere

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myfaveisfuckable · 11 months ago

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Xie Lian:

he looks more unassuming in his setting than in general but oh man is he not, this man is weirrrrd like Weird weird, he met a guy on a cart who he knew was like a super evil ghost man and not only did he decide to ignore the fact that he was that super evil ghost man, he eventually ended up marrying him! who does that? also, he collects trash for a living! and out of him and his ghost husband he's arguably the weirder one! he's literally a god and he dresses like that (imagine that in italics) absolutely wild. also he's obsessed with swords and is on good terms with the guy who stabbed him and trapped him in a coffin for 100 years but he draws the line at his annoying cousin (who does do really bad stuff as a ghost but he disliked him before that). overall he's just, wow.

Dokja:

1. Introduced as a bland everyman only made exceptional by circumstance, slowly revealed to be the most batshit, suicidally depressed, bisexual maniac in existence. Uses self-sacrifice like a tool and is completely unaware of how beloved he is by the people he keeps pulling into his fold because he is so deeply and utterly convinced that he is fundamentally unlovable. He's like sixty foundational traumas stacked in a trench coat and he's always sixty steps ahead of everyone else and he loves the people he chooses so so dearly and people keep calling him ugly even though he's canonically pretty average and holy shit dude get some therapy please

2. He looks like a neet-pulled office worker. Spoilers: turns out to be one of the oldest things in the world and the only being keeping it going and alive. He needs to be there to keep the world going. Also, he got like kind of adopted by Persephone and hades. Like his blorbo is real and in love with him. But this man looks so average that people call him ugly to his face just because he’s surrounded by absolute gorgeous people.

3. do NOT let the pretty official art fool u. this is the most average 28 year old salaryman going through the absolute most in the apocalypse. ORV is a story about the most average man on earth with the most mundane, depressing life. and one story that he read to cope with it all. he's just some guy, but he is also the most beloved specialest guy. not because he had some hidden talent. just because he loved a story ferociously and also he likes getting in trouble on purpose. he is the most unreliable narrator you will ever find. every piece of the universe loves him for his average stupid self. you will understand when you read 👍

4. GHBJNKML i am praying someone has sent him in but. unreliable narrator the most ever and also i just. love him so much. orv in itself is such a goo dnovel but like. kim dokja is the definition of love and the most caring person but also he's suffered so much and while. yknow we're introduced to him as a kind of nerd but like. listen he's so fucked up juts LISTEN

#poll #tournament

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biblicallyaccurateandrogynoussex · 2 years ago

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ALRIGHT. continuing.

Worf: (thats it. thats his name.) he comes from a race of honor-obsessed warriors called the klingons. theyre kinda fun they like drinking and fighting and keeping their family name honorable. but worf is kinda like. disgraced. hes also just Weird. he drinks prune juice canonically. hes hella intimidating tho his voice is really deep and he fights really well. he was ALSO on the next generation. i dont really have a lot of thoughts on him? hes just kinda there

Odo: HE IS SO FUN. he's a changeling, and the only good changeling because the rest are in charge of the federation but evil (its called the dominion. theyre gods apparently). every 16 hours he becomes goo and has to sit in a bucket but all the other hours hes a Slightly Off Looking Man! he can change into literally anything (including inanimate objects) and has a WEIRDLY passionate rivalry with the bar owner. he's head of security, and aslo not offically an officer, so he LOVES breaking rules so he can catch the bar owner commiting crimes. kinda gay to be always aware of what another man is doing

Quark: the bar owner! he's a ferengi, and their whole thing is capitalism. you have to pay to like. open doors on their planet. they have an entire rulebook called the Rules of Acquisition that they quote really often during the books. ferengi society is very misogynistic but one of the rules is always have sex with the boss so they are encouraging gay sex. anyways. quark is a bastard and a coward and a capitalist and i love him <3

Rom: quark's brother! he is quite the opposite of quark. he works for quark at the bar but he also helps obrien with repairs and is a loving father to his son nog. hes also a communist. there was an entire episode where he started a union and said "workers of the world unite, you have nothing to lose but your chains". he's a really good character even if he's not always in the episodes.

Garak: cardassian! disgraced! really gay with bashir! probably an ex spy, but he claims he's just a tailor. he shows up whenever they need to have a really queer plot with bashir or whenever starfleet needs him to do something that he's apparently good at. i could probably say more about him but tbh im blanking. other than the fact that cardassians canonically argue to flirt and half of his conversations with bashir are lighthearted bickering. i rest my case

other really minor charcters i like

Brunt: hes like. the ferengi fbi. he shows up to torment quark and he always announces himself by saying BRUNT. FCA.

Pel: also a ferengi and probably transmasc. she pretended to be a man so she could get a job and work :]

uhhhh ithink thts it wow. i am curuous based on this who your favs are

Oh hell yeah!!! I have to say I am immediately endeared to Odo (Changeling who's also goo??? Sign me tf up that's my favorite) and also Garak. Kinda gay to bicker my guy and also we love ex spies

#starry star trek series

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iridisentry · 2 years ago

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Re: Merlin and the 1000+ yrs later AU

When I read this kind of fic, the general idea is that Merlin has spent a 1000 years as a complete loner pining for Arthur(platonically or romantically) and as a result is a complete cynic and completely broken and when Arthur (+gang depending on fic) returns, they find him as a shell of who he was and heal him and everyone returns to the same dynamic they occupied before-- the great respected prince and his devoted, loyal but slightly (perceived) idiotic servant.

Which is... fine. I like those fics too, I'm a big fan of whump in general.

But... I think we're missing out on Merlin achieving his sheer potential as the token wise chaotic old man like Gandalf or Dumbledore or even the different versions of Merlin himself.

The man has lived for over a millenium. A whole fucking millenium.

Sure maybe he chose to spend it by the lakeside waiting for Arthur, never straying, ever a devoted servant/friend/lover but that's soooo boooooring. Sure, he can be a complete virgin, not getting into relationships at all because he's waiting for his soulmate but it's sooo frankly unbelievable. Merlin is the kind of character that thrives on loving ppl--his mom, Gwen, Morgana, Arthur, all the round table knights. Every person in Camelot falls in love with him at one point or another, he makes friends like honey attracting flies.

It's so much more interesting to make him heal after all that trauma and grief. He can even experience the Big Sad for a century if you like but after that... let him stray.

Let him find a friend.

Let him learn to live.

Let him fall in love again

and again

with people he meets,

the sunrises and sunsets,

the way the wind whistles through the trees,

the new innovations, the leaps and bounds of science, the food, the clothes, the culture.

Let him leave Avalon, let him leave Albion, let him explore the world. He's named after a literal bird, you can't shackle a bird to one place, it's cruel.

Let the most powerful warlock ever meet others. See the way magic is used in different lands. The snake charmers of India for eg. We all know he has the most raw power but let's be honest, his education in Camelot is from ONE (1) spell-book and a man who wouldn't even perform magic unless in literal live or die situations. He can learn so much MORE. From druids, from the Catha, from wandering traders who use it to dye cloth, polish and cut gems, keep their produce fresh. From warriors who use it to fight and physiciams who use it to heal.

Merlin has lived for a millenium. Whether he wanted to or not.

He has seen shit. He needs a different outlook on life than "I hate everything and I wanna die" which is typical of us high schoolers. Give my baby the character growth he deserves.

When Arthur and gang trip out of the lake, I want them to meet Merlin who arrives a week late because he was helping dryads caught in the Californian forest fires. Merlin who speaks approximately 60 different languages and is involved in NGOs all over the world. He is overjoyed to see them of course and his contacts help him fake birth certificates etc for his friends.

He goes to protests and drags them to his immortal friends get-together which happens every half a century or so (dragons are canon, fight me if you think vampires or fallen angels can't exist) all the while working as .....well they can't exactly figure out what he works as. He says he is going to work every morning and he tells them funny anecdotes about his co-workers all the time but they can never place it-

"Jeremy has a headache from all the uncooperative patients"

"Amita is trying introduce an improved filing system, I love it but the oldies at the office think she's crazy-""Merlin, you're older than all of them put together" "Yes, and in my old age I know the importance of change unlike those toddlers. Amita is a genius, they should make her HOD, we'd all benefit really"

Gwen and Lancelot keep worrying about Merlin because goddamn this man has been alive for so long until Merlin casually mentions, "Oh yeah, I have a therapist. Petyr is great, I love him so much for keeping my sanity intact."

A Merlin who is the cheerful bubbly man Arthur remembers from their first few months and simultaneously knows so much, has experienced so much-- multiple wars and the destruction they cause, so many sweethearts who lived and died, the girl battling cancer who was his patient and such beautiful brave people changing the world for better.

A Merlin who is kind and caring and a chaotic little shit with zero fucks- "Merlin, hurry up we need to find <insert important world saving thing> or <insert certain doom> will happen!" "Chill guys, the future will unfold as the future does. Focus on the important things-like this cute caterpillar" *screams of frustration from all the knights* "Oh and by the way I had a guy take care of <world saving thing>. Do you wanna help me makea home for this caterpillar? *more frustrated screaming*

Anyway that's all I have. I just want to see Merlin unlock his true Overpowered Wise Old Guy Who Knows Everyone And Everything potential, is that so bad?

#merlin bbc #reincarnation #bamf merlin #local crytid merlin #overpowered merlin #merlin spouts proverbs and wise sayings but also says stuff like yeet #iri posts

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