#I'm obsessed with this man and his loyalty to the working class | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wheels-of-despair · 1 year

Text

The Ups and Downs of Dating a Trash Panda Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman's first date doesn't go exactly as planned… but everything works out in the end. Obviously. Contains: First date, questionable choices, proof that a good cheeseburger can fix anything. Words: 2.6k

"What, no dress?"

"Shut up."

"You really ought to put in a little effort."

"Cram it, dork."

"Guys like it when you get all prettied up for them."

"How would you know?"

"Maybe some lipstick."

"Good idea, can I borrow yours?"

"You're no fun," your brother grumbles before he gets tired of his annoying little game and leaves your doorway.

As if getting dressed for a first date isn't already stressful enough.

You don't know why you're stressing. The guy is perfect. You'd only known him for a week, but you were already completely crazy about him. He was funny, he was gorgeous, he scared you just the right amount, he had good taste in music. (Although you did dock points for being a Dio fan. He claimed he could get you to come around. As if your loyalty to The Ozz-Man could be tested by some pretty metalhead who was obsessed with the pint-sized weirdo that tried to replace a legend. Pfft.)

You settled on dark jeans, a shirt that your mom would call a "blouse", and relatively new Converse that hadn't been drawn on yet. The white parts were still white and everything. Yup, you think as you look in the mirror one last time, this is about as good as it's gonna get.

You decide to wait out the rest of the time in the kitchen, so you could dart outside as soon as you heard the van and not have to suffer through any awkward introductions.

You didn't even have time to sit down before you heard the unmistakable roar of that monstrous van.

"Leaving, I'll probably be back by dawn!" you yell before ducking out and making a beeline toward the driveway… where some vaguely familiar dweeb is getting out of Eddie's van.

"Hey."

"Who are you and what have you done with the feral trash panda I'm supposed to be going out with tonight?" you ask before you can stop yourself. You can't help it; he's wearing stiff jeans without holes in them, a tucked-in button-up without any stains on it, and freshly polished combat boots. He's even made an effort to tame his hair.

His pale face immediately turns red, and you curse yourself and your big mouth.

"Kidding. You look good." Oh god, he's going to just turn around and leave, isn't he? Honestly, you wouldn't blame him.

"Thanks," he says shyly, which feels even more out of character for him than the clothes do. "You do too."

"Ready to head out, or did you want to go in and get grilled?"

He gulps and spins on his heel. You follow him back toward the van and try not to smile as he gets halfway around the front before turning back, darting in front of you, and opening the passenger door. This adorable awkwardness is doing wonders for your nerves.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say with a wink as you get in. His eyes go big, and it takes him a second longer than it should to remember to shut the door. He hustles to the other side, jumps in, and starts the engine without looking at you. You're not used to having this effect on anyone. You're quite enjoying it.

In the week you'd known him, nearly every minute you'd spent together had been spent talking. Even when the teacher of the one class you shared together told you - well, him - to shut up and pay attention, you'd continued your conversation on paper. You had an entire notebook dedicated to Conversations with Eddie now.

But aside from the cassette mix blaring through his speakers, this ride was utterly silent. You wanted desperately to say something funny to ease the tension, but you were suddenly as tongue-tied as he was. What the hell is that about?

When you get into the little town you're still not completely familiar with, Eddie whips his van into a parking spot in front of a brick building.

"Uh… Italian good?"

Well done, Munson, three whole words. "Yup, that works."

He grins and jumps out, coming to open your door, but you beat him to it. You're quite capable of opening your own car door. You'll need to break him of that quick.

He gives you a funny look, but recovers as you join him on the sidewalk. He takes long strides toward the restaurant's front door and gives you a triumphant smirk as he holds it open for you. Yeah, okay, you win this one.

The second you step inside, you feel out of place. This is a fancy restaurant. White linen tablecloths, candles and fresh flowers on the tables, waiters wearing ties. Even with your attempts to dress up, you both still stick out like sore thumbs.

"Table for two, please," Eddie tells the hostess. She looks the pair of you up and down, puts her badly painted eyebrows back into place, and gives you a fake smile.

"Right this way," she says sweetly, leading you to a small table in the back. On the way, you pass a couple you've seen in school, all dressed up and eating with one of their families. They look at you with surprise, and the boy leans over to whisper something to the girl. Her eyes never leave you. Fantastic.

Eddie holds out your chair, clearly haven been coached on how to treat a lady, and you sit. He takes a seat across from you, and you both look around the dimly lit restaurant. This is the kind of place rich old men from three towns over bring their mistresses, or where seniors take their prom dates. What the hell?

"Come here often?" you ask, half-joking. His face reddens again.

"Not really," he admits.

"Good evening," your tie-wearing waiter greets before you can make Eddie any more uncomfortable. "Can I start you off with drinks as you peruse our menu?" He hands you each a laminated sheet.

"Uh… Mountain Dew?" The waiter's nose twitches at Eddie's request. "Same," you say with a mildly sarcastic smile.

"Very well," the waiter says, giving you a hard look down his crooked nose before leaving you alone. You feel like a kid who's been mistakenly seated at the adult's table… until you look at the menu. And then you look up at Eddie. His eyes are wide, probably for the same reason yours are: these prices are ridiculous.

"I don't even know what half this stuff is," you mumble, scanning the list in horror.

"Me either," Eddie admits. If he keeps going red like this, his head's going to explode before the night ends.

"Have you ever been here before?" you ask, genuinely this time.

"No," he says, almost guiltily, chewing his bottom lip.

"This doesn't really seem like us, does it?" You're trying to be as gentle as possible, for Eddie's sake, but you hate everything about this place. The flowers stink, the candle is giving you black lung, and you're feeling more claustrophobic by the second. You also suspect you'll both end up washing dishes to get out of here. Bet the people from school would love to see that.

"Do you want to bail?" he asks quietly, almost like he fears your answer.

"On you? No. On this overpriced shithole? Hell yeah." His face lights up, and he looks around to see if you're being watched. You are. Fuck it. "C'mon," you stand up, instinctively taking his hand and pulling him up to follow you, dodging tables and ties on your way out.

"Is there a problem?" the hostess asks as you rush past her.

"Left the stove on!" you call over your shoulder as you burst through the door and find yourselves back outside, where the sun is just beginning to set. You turn to Eddie with a smile, which he returns. It's nice to be able to breathe again. And then you realize you're still holding hands, so you panic and break apart.

"Fucked that one up, didn't I?" He rubs the back of his neck, looking at you through one scrunched-up eye.

"Nah," you say, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of freedom. "I'm honored that you think I'm a fancy Italian restaurant kind of girl."

"What kind of girl are you?"

"For you? I'd be a gas station hot dog kind of girl."

You briefly wonder if he's going to have a stroke, or get freaked out by how into him you are - way to come off like a stalker, you loser - and then he lets out the goofiest, dorkiest laugh you've ever heard.

"I think we can do a little better than gas station hot dogs. What are you in the mood for?"

You shrug. "What's your favorite?"

"There's a good burger joint a few streets over."

"That's more like it," you grin.

"You wanna walk?"

"Sure," you shrug. "Can I do something first?"

"Yeah?" You take a step toward him, and he instinctively steps back.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you," you tell him with a smile. "Close your eyes?" Surprisingly, he doesn't put up a fight. You take a slow step toward him, stick your hands in his hair, and give it a gentle tousle.

That's all it takes to make it go wild again. He looks at you in confusion.

"There he is," you announce, crossing your arms and looking up at him with affection. "Knew you were in there somewhere." He ducks his head to hide his smile, and you stand at his side and give him a gentle nudge with your shoulder.

"I believe I heard talk of a good burger joint?"

He beams down at you, tilts his head, and begins walking in search of better food. After he catches his reflection in a store window and blushes again, he untucks and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a plain t-shirt underneath. Another step toward normalcy. For him, anyway.

After the third time your hands bump together on your journey, you glare up at him. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?"

"What?" he asks. The boy is hopeless.

With a dramatic sigh and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you grab his hand and interlace your fingers, wondering whose face is burning more on the rest of your walk.

"This is it," he says as you approach a glass window with chipped paint advertising breakfast, lunch, dinner, and coffee. You probably would've missed it if he hadn't pointed it out. He opens the door, and you step inside to see a checkered floor, fluorescent lights, a long counter, and a row of red booths. Framed newspaper articles and vintage advertisements decorate the walls. Two booths are occupied, and three old codgers who must be regulars sit at the counter having a lively discussion about pie over steaming mugs of coffee.

"Yeah, this is more like it," you grin up at Eddie. He laughs and leads the way to a booth in the back that's seen better days, and you settle in across from each other. You look around and see the menu above the counter. Not only can you pronounce everything on it, you can afford it too. Yeah, this is definitely more like it.

"What do you recommend?" you ask.

"I pretty much always get a bacon cheeseburger."

"Perfect."

A grandmotherly type wearing Keds, pleated jeans, and a sweatshirt covered in sunflowers appears. "Hey, honey! Where you been?"

"Hey, Bernadettte. Uhhh… working hard in school?"

She laughs and pulls a pad and a pen from her apron. "Suuure. What'll it be, kids?"

"Two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries, please."

"Drinks?"

You each pick a soda, and she gives you a smile before returning to the counter.

Now that you're both comfortable, your usual level of chatter quickly resumes. From the time Bernadette went to fetch your drinks to the time you finished sharing an after-dinner milkshake, the only silence came when both of your mouths were full.

"Can I get you kids anything else?" Bernadette eventually asks. If you eat another bite, you're going to explode.

"No ma'am," Eddie answers politely.

"Haven't seen you in here before," she remarks to you, ripping the ticket off and placing it face-down on the table.

"I've only been here about a week. But now that I've found the best burger in town, you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me," you joke.

She laughs. "I knew I was gonna like you. I'm Bernadette. You come back and see me anytime." Somebody calls for a refill at the counter, and she winks as she walks away.

"Ready?" Eddie asks, sucking down the last sip of his soda. You nod.

He takes the ticket to the register, and you tidy up your mess and tuck a few dollars under the milkshake glass so they don't drift away. Eddie returns and looks down at it, then at you with a glare.

"Non-negotiable," you say simply, standing between him and the tip on the table. He holds up his hands in defeat, then gestures toward the exit. You wave to Bernadette on your way out.

"You kids take care!" she calls.

"You too, Bernadette!" Eddie responds.

Holding hands is less awkward on the return trip. The drive home is quiet, but not unbearably so. It's peaceful now; you're both full, and happy, and comfortable with each other.

When you're back in your driveway, he puts the van in park and turns off the engine. You turn to tell him goodnight, but he's already darting around the front to open your door. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he yanks it open and holds out his hand expectantly.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"Let me be a gentleman, dammit. Just for tonight. I'll go back to being a… what did you call me earlier?"

"Trash panda?"

"I'll go back to being a trash panda tomorrow if you want."

"Fineee," you grumble playfully, taking his hand and sliding to the ground with a thump.

"Now what?" you ask, looking up at him with a devious grin.

"Uh…"

You lean back against the van and cross your arms, watching your flustered date try to make up his mind.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, and he closes it again.

"I had a great time tonight," you prompt, finally taking pity on his floundering.

"Me too. Sorry I fucked it up."

"You didn't fuck it up. I think this might be the best date I've ever been on."

"Really?" he asks.

"Yup."

"Uh… me too…" Hopeless. Totally hopeless.

"I think this is the part where you kiss me goodnight," you stage-whisper, watching him blush again in the glow of your porch light.

"You're sure?" His dark eyes dart to your lips.

You lean closer. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?" you tease, gently, repeating this question for the second time tonight.

Eddie grins and closes the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that makes you go weak at the knees.

"Happy now?" he asks smugly when he pulls back, in a low, gravelly voice that sets your insides on fire. This motherfucker.

"Nah, I think you better try again."

He pulls you back to him without a word, a little more aggressive this time. You don't mind in the slightest. When you come up for air, he looks at you expectantly.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, that was better." He grins triumphantly and stands to his full height, draping an arm around your shoulders.

"I'm walking you to your door. Deal with it." You laugh and let him.

After a shorter kiss on the doorstep and a promise that he'll call you tomorrow, he heads back the van, and you step inside.

Your brother is sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Not a fuckin' word," you warn, trying to look threatening instead of hopelessly head-over-heels for a feral trash panda.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #i miiiiight've gotten a little carried away with this #deal with ittt

197 notes · View notes

enbyleighlines · 6 months

Text

Leigh plays Tellius prt 15

It's the final chapter! I had Ike give his speech, because I love it, even if he's clearly uncomfortable giving it. I literally muttered, "you're doing great, sweetie" at this moment.

What a wild time for Ashnard to confess this. I'm surprised Bryce wasn't more upset by this, honestly, considering he was a loyal retainer to the last king for fifteen years. But I suppose it's possible that his loyalty was more for the post, rather than the man himself.

We never do learn much about the previous King of Daein. This amazing post theorizes that Ashnard was perhaps an illegitimate son of the king, which is why he was never mentioned in any talk of succession prior to the "plague" that killed off the rest of the royal family. I really like this theory, because it explains why Ashnard was so obsessed with strength over bloodlines.

I put Soren up against a dragon laguz, and he completely decimated it through a combination of crits and adepts. Then I felt really terrible afterwards, considering that Soren might have indirectly been the cause of him becoming feral, since it's possible that this was one of the dragon laguz that traveled with Rajaion to rescue Almedha and infant Soren.

As expected, Soren capped his magic before even reaching level 20, so I didn't have to use a spirit dust on him. Fantastic job, Soren!

Ilyana reached level 20 not too long afterwards. However, she was unable to cap magic and speed on her own, so I used both a spirit dust and a speedwing for her. Hopefully this makes part 1 of Radiant Dawn just a teensy tiny bit easier.

Unfortunately, Soren and Ilyana were the only two units I was able to get to level 20. I severely overestimated how much exp was available on this map. Even more frustrating, I got Jill all the way to level 19, but then I ran out of enemies to pit her against.

I very nearly got Mist to level 20, too, through using a physics staff to heal Ike. Unfortunately, I forgot to unequip Ike's ragnell and he defeated Ashnard with aether before I could get Mist all the way to level 20.

I unironically love Ashnard's dying words. There's no disappointment, no anger. He's just so happy to meet someone who proves to be a formidable opponent. I suppose he was getting bored. I suppose it makes war less thrilling when you wear invincible armor.

This reveal is sooooooo gooooooooood. I love Ena and Rajaion.

A closer pic of them because man they are too cute.

I wish Rajaion had survived. Unfortunately, they didn't make it very clear that he died, so when I first played this game, I thought he had survived until I played the sequel.

I love this image! So many cute and unique laguz designs.

Ike and Elincia's friendship is so good, so pure.

A moment of silence for my least used characters. Rhys, Volke, and Brom, you are great characters, but I didn't need you, I'm sorry. Sothe, I will see you in the next game.

And that's it! The end progressed too quickly for me to take too many screenshots, but I did record who my top 5 units were:

Jill came in at 5th. No surprise there. I worked really hard, trying to get her to level 20. It's a shame I never did.

Soren was 4th. I'm a little sad he didn't rank higher, but I suppose it makes sense. Once he classed up into a sage, I mainly used him as a healer, since he was such a higher level than everyone else.

Rolf was 3rd. I'm also sad I didn't get him to level 20. He would have been so buffed with those transfer bonuses. Oh, well.

Ilyana was 2nd. Again unsurprising. She lagged behind for a while, but I managed to get her to level 20 with 4 capped stats, so all the extra effort paid off.

And of course Ike was in 1st place.

And that was Path of Radiance! I'm going to take a break to work on my Big Bang fic, but I am excited to get into Radiant Dawn. I wish I had gotten more characters to level 20. So far, I have Ike, Ilyana, Soren, and Ranulf all at level 20. Ike has capped 5 stats, Ilyana and Soren 4, and Ranulf only the 1. Perhaps I should have played on hard, so there would have been more reinforcements. Additionally, I could have farmed several bosses for extra exp.

Oh, well. Overall, I did manage to achieve all 5 of my goals. No one died, Ike and Soren are at an A rank, Ike and Ranulf at a B rank, Soren and Ilyana capped speed, and Ranulf capped strength.

Next time: we meet the Dawn Brigade!

#leigh plays tellius #tellius #fire emblem path of radiance #path of radiance #fe9

5 notes · View notes

villxinoux · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝟓 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, share the top songs in your playlist that most inspire / represent your muses the most. bonus points if you include lyrics to go along with it.

tagged by: @heincus the mvp tagging: @nexarerum @tewwor @hiisfire

rich kids - new medicine .

i coulda went to college like rich kids do // buying weed with the money that your mom sent you // but I don't give a damn about no higher degree // cause you know in rock & roll, i got a phd, bitch // we got all that we need, packed it up in the van // put the pedal to the floor, gave the finger to the man // i'm not a rich kid, maybe that's a good thing // ain't got shit, but i got this far // keepin it real & rhymin & stealin // doing what i want

the whole attitude in this song is peak ciaran energy. ciaran has never had money, his family never had money, he never cared for money & especially people who have money. he has a strong loyalty to the lower & working class because he grew up with them, the struggles but also the solidarity. fighting for the rights of the lower & working class is a big deal to his punk heritage & he will carry it with him to the grave.

i love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers .

i was getting off the late shift attempting to recover // crumpled up the bus pass, tossed it into the gutter // some handsome dark stranger, you were standing there on the corner // you had those compelling magnetized eyes // you must have lost when you got older // seven blocks in, my fingers brushed your hand // i blushed & you laughed, but you seemed a little sad // i ain't one to jump a ship, but i absolutely knew // i was six steps in when I fell into you // one last kiss // i love you like a broken pot // one last kiss // i love you like a pack of dogs // one last kiss // i need you like I need a gaping head wound

this song doesn't only fit ciaran due to his high functioning alcoholism, but it also encapsulate his relationship with his exes a great deal. the way he is attracted to things that are toxic for him is very well described through the lyrics of this song.

that's so gay - pansy division . i heard what you said, i'm not stupid, you know // what do you take me for? hetero? // the next time you say it, make sure i can't hear // 'cause you're pissing me off, is that clear? // heard what you said; just a figure of speech? // if you meant nothing by it, practice what you preach // the next time you say it, you better think twice // some pissed off f*ggot may not take it too nice // what'd he say? he said "that's so gay" // what'd he say? he said "that's so gay" // & if you say it again, there'll be hell to pay // i'll show you what it's like to be gay

this song is such a ciaran song from the voice, the execution & the lyrics. ciaran had to learn very young that the only way he would survive in this world as an openly gay man would be to challenge those who bullied him. he immediately learned to fight for himself, throw a mean punch & get to them before they can get to him. this song is exactly what i hear when i imagine ciaran getting in brawls with bigots in bars.

losemyhead - littledeath .

we could go and find ourselves a car to crash // or we could go and toss bottles off the overpass // if we tear apart the cushions for a little cash // we could buy a couple papers and a tank of gas // if we bargain with the devil, make the night our day // there ain't a single thing we wouldn't sign away // so we could grab ourselves a baggie, never leave the haze // light em', up light em' up 'til we don't know our names // oh, rock bottom // oh, rock bottom // oh rock bottom never looked so good

this song of course had to be in here. this song was the first song that i dubed "ciaran & mal's song" & i was obsessed with it after max sent it to me, so much it became my third most listened to through the whole year. the song is a great example to show ciaran's free spirit, his need for adventure, adrenaline & freedom. it also shows why he & mal work together so well; they are equally as crazy.

sorry about your car - savannah saturn .

the lot was empty // late at night // no one could see me // reach for my bag // & pull out a key // so baby, i'll meet you in hell // i could never tell // if this was just a dream // now I'll just sit for myself // wondering when // the cops will come for me // i'm sorry, i'm sorry // i shouldn't let it get this far // & now i just feel // sorry for your car // should i have cut the brakes // or is that too far? this is mostly a joke, but also... not really. it's a nod to how ciaran famously put his ex's car on fire after he cheated. ciaran is not forgiving; he is petty, & is not scared of committing arson, so stay on his good side.

#( c i a r a n ) headcanons .#( o o c ) dash games .#i couldve picked 10 more songs #bc my ciaran playlist is so good

4 notes · View notes

nana-glass-chillhop-radio-hour · 2 years

Note

OK so I am OBSESSED with A Cornstalk Fiddle and have been regularly sharing it with people who don't even know what fanfiction is. It's legitimately just a great Southern gothic story, written by someone who Gets It with regard to bluegrass. I am always a sucker for really good descriptions of playing music in a narrative, and this is one of the best out there.

Also, this line: "She had been pragmatic, Johnny’s mother. Now she was a starry-eyed romantic because she’d gotten remarried to a man who cooked Dominican food and did his own laundry."

First off, ahhhhhh! Oh my god let's talk more about it. Second off, I love that you're sharing it with people who don't know fanfic. A Cornstalk Fiddle is just such a success on so many levels, but I think what I most appreciate about it as a writer (rather than a reader) is how it bridges the gap between fanfic and original fic by playing with the conventions of Southern Gothic as a genre and the conventions of fanfiction as a genre and essentially turning them both upside down.

I've heard other people who don't usually read fic talk about this, and I think that's a testament to the fact that you can read it as an original work or as fanfiction. I can't think of any other work that straddles that line so fruitfully.

Reading it as fic, it engages deeply with the original text/mythos (frequent callbacks to the song lyrics, the contest and the golden fiddle as a recurring part of the plot) but also interrogates and reimagines the original text (what if Johnny was a resourceful and introspective queer black working-class Atlanta musician with conflicting desires and loyalties instead of a 2-dimensional self-insert storybook hero? Why did the Devil really challenge him to that duel in the first place? What does it mean for the Devil to be way behind and looking to make a deal? What does it mean for the Devil to tell Johnny 'I'm a fiddle player too'?)

It's a great example of fanfiction for folks who may not be familiar with the tropes of the fanfiction, but for those who are, it effortlessly reinvents those tropes in fresh and meaningful ways. For crying out loud, it's an emotion-forward, character-driven, introspective, lyrical enemies-to-lovers slow-burn slash fic (with monsterfucking elements in the other works in the series!) It's SO ficcy. But it's also so highly original! Not a lot of people are out here writing contemporary gay Southern Gothic romances where people fall in love with the Devil!

And all the thematic work around the idea of the soul, what it is and what it does... *chef's kiss* to me, losing the part of your spirit that feels joy is a really powerful metaphor for depression - but that's just my personal reading, the text supports so many interpretations!

Anyway I have a lot of Thoughts about it. We should start a book club.

#a cornstalk fiddle #a cornstalk fiddle book club

31 notes · View notes

captainmazzic · 3 years

Text

Introducing Imperial Major-General Wyrren Harker, and former-Separatist-now-mercenary Falynn J’Kurra. Let’s get a little backstory going under the cut :D

Wyrren Harker is largely an insufferable man. Intelligent and ruthless, he has an obsession with always having the upper hand and of always being the one in control. Spoiled as a child but held to very high standards, he is driven and dedicated to his goals but extremely selfish, arrogant, and just a little vain. He is quite willing to manipulate and intimidate anyone he can to climb out on top, and this has made him more than a little domineering and short-tempered when things don’t quite go the way he envisioned. He is not often deliberately cruel, but his sadistic streak comes out in retaliation if he thinks he has been slighted or wronged. He is extremely confident in his abilities, and that occasionally can make him a little reckless. It also makes him very nearly fearless, and he rarely worries about backlash or the negative consequences of his actions. He is not totally without fear however, and when put in a position where he has no power or is helpless, he very literally has no idea what to do.

Wyrren was raised an only child in a hyper-pro-Republic, career military household. Both parents were higher-ranking officers in the Republic army, and their son got the finest education and training their money and privilege could buy. He graduated academy at the top of his class, climbed the ranks quickly throughout the Clone Wars, and was already one of the youngest officers to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel by the time the Republic transitioned into the Galactic Empire. Like many in the upper echelons of the military, the change was seamless for him. He continued climbing the ranks, bolstered by affluence, staunch loyalty, and extensive connections. He was promoted to Major-General in 17 BBY, and was placed in charge of an IM-455 Imperial Modular Garrison, to be deployed on the foggy world of Nimat.

Nimat itself is sparsely populated, but its position made it of importance in securing the Imperial presence in the Outer Rim. Nimat is the primary access point of the Nimat Corridor in the Tharin Sector, along the Triellus Trade Route, one of the major trading hyperroutes through the Outer Rim.

Nimat is a dim planet with unusual topography. Much of the world is gently rolling lowlands, dotted with open forest, sluggish rivers, and shallow seas, all perpetually housed in a thick fog. There are occasional pieces of land, only a few dozen in number, that rise above the fog – all flat-topped plateaus ranging in size from a couple square kilometers to nearly 200 square kilometers. On these rare plateaus are the few spaceports and settlements that the planet has to offer. Every inch of these plateaus has been utilized for the tiny population, so the placement of the Imperial Garrison that our freshly-minted Major-General was to command was… tricky. It had to be placed nearly a hundred kilometers away from one of the more sizable spaceports, down among the lowlands and deep within the fog.

Wyrren wasn’t terribly happy with the arrangement, but the fragility of the already-overloaded plateaus and the restrictive topography of the planet prevented any other alternative aside from establishing an Orbital Garrison instead of a land-based one. But that would mean Wyrren would be forced to share commanding duties and power with an Admiral from the Imperial Navy, something he absolutely refused to do. So a land-based Modular Garrison it was, and that’s when all his troubles started…

Falynn J’Kurra is a former Separatist general and strategist from Annoo. He is private, aloof, and very patient, and rarely speaks unless necessary. His reserved and quiet nature often comes across as intimidation, as he has Resting Bitch Face™ and when he does speak his voice is gravelly and rough. But he is surprisingly even-keeled, and it takes a lot for him to actually get angry or raise his voice. Despite this, he does not abide anyone testing his limits and is uncompromising in his morals and tactics. Combined with his natural tendency to being a loner, this often results in a “my way or the highway” kind of mentality and it is difficult for him to take advice from others. This hard-line approach frequently caused him to be at odds with other Separatists while he was within their ranks, and he often went head-to-head with anyone who tried to force his hand – up to and including General Grievous and Count Dooku. Needless to say he was not often included in high-profile decisions or decisive battles. Which suited him just fine, as his focus is in the Outer Rim. His primary goal has always been the betterment and protection of his people, primarily against the Republic and the subsequent Empire. He was a primary associate of the revolutionary Ashaar Khorda on his homeworld. Falynn is an Annoo-dat, differentiated as a Ret or “Annoo-dat Blue” only by xenobiologists. (For reference, Adrestin is also an Annoo-dat, but by the time of the Galactic Empire the two species have long integrated their societies into one and do not differentiate amongst themselves). Being as they are a very long-lived species, Falynn actually remembers the conquering of his home planet of Gelefil by the Annoo-dat Prime and its subsequent renaming to Annoo. It doesn’t matter to him, however, as he is like most of his species and considers both Prime and Blue species of Annoo-dat to be one and the same.

After the Separatist Council was massacred on Mustafar and the Republic formed itself into the Empire, Falynn did not immediately seek out any of the fragmented Separatist holdout groups to join. Disillusioned and jaded, he turned to mercenary work instead, trusting more in his ability to get results on his own without any added people as a responsibility. During his new line of work, he would frequently encounter isolated Rebel cells (as the Alliance to Restore the Republic had not yet been formed), and would often take pay to strategize for them, or fight, or sabotage, or whatever else he happened to offer at the time. He would never fully align with the Rebel Alliance, however, as he has little desire to see the Republic restored back to its old position. He wants only for the Empire to fall, and firmly believes the galaxy would be better off without a centralized seat of power.

But he still helps Rebel cells if they have the credits to pay him, especially if it happens to be close to home. And it is one such Rebel cell on the planet of Nimat that hires him to sabotage a newly-established Imperial Garrison…

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

I FINALLY MANAGED TO POST lol. So here's that Imperial OC I mentioned I wanted to make based on Wesker from Resident Evil a few days ago. Plus the hardass merc. I'm happy. :D

#star wars ocs #imperial oc #rebel oc #sarc scribbles #star wars fanart

43 notes · View notes