margins of the known cosmos.

      𝑹𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒂   𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚   𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕   Dean   gives   in.   Energy   seems   to   zap   back   into   her   body   and   she   gets   up   to   her   feet   in   a   flash,   her   heels   clicking   against   the   hardwood   floor   as   she   crosses   the   room   towards   her   belongings.   “It’s   a   rather   simple   spell,   really.   It   would   do   the   two   of   you   boys   some   good   to   learn   it.”   Perhaps,   if   asked,   she’ll   even   teach   it   to   them.   A   show   of   good   faith   and   willingness   to   put   their   history,   which   was   filled   with   attempts   of   murder   from   either   party,   behind   them.   

      From   her   bag   Rowena   plucks   a   decorated   vintage   metal   box   and   moves   back,   this   time   her   steps   more   measured.   Permission   given   doesn’t   mean   any   earned   or   given   trust,   so   threading   carefully,   was   still   very   much   at   the   forefront   of   her   mind.   

      “This   is   a   blend   of   really   common   ingredients,   most   of   them   you   can   find   in   any   odd   garden,   even   nowadays,”   she   explains   and   kneels   in   front   of   him.   The   sheer   size   of   him   doesn’t   let   her   sit   down   comfortably,   not   if   she   wanted   to   reach   the   whole   of   his   wounds.   And   unfortunately   there   were   plenty,   even   if   only   of   the   visible   ones.   The   box's lid   pulled   open,   she   finds   purchase   for   it   on   his   thigh   —   easily   accessible   for   her   to   touch   the   dry   ingredients   inside   with   the   pad   of   her   thumb.   “Lavender,   bracken,   dried   mountain   ash.   And   one   ingredient   that   is   a   bit   harder   to   find,   so   don’t   spill   it.”   

      She   takes   his   hand   in   hers,   a   demonstration   on   a   less   vulnerable   part   of   his   body,   and   runs   her   dusted   thumb   over   the   gash   in   his   palm.   A   couple   of   whispered   words,   Gaelic   rolling   off   her   tongue   with   practiced   ease   and   the   wound   starts   closing   up   in   front   of   their   eyes,   leaving   no   trace   of   injury   behind.   

He keeps his eyes on her as she retrieves what she needs for the spell; rationally he knows it’d be incredibly stupid of her to try anything funny right now (and Rowena’s not stupid), but that doesn’t mean he has to like it, having to trust her with a spell he’s unfamiliar with.

He all but glares at her, not even trying to hide his suspicion.

And does she have to kneel? In front of him, like that, when she could just sit on a chair next to him like a normal person.

Dean forces himself to not bounce his leg, as to not spill the ingredients. 🙶If I end up growing tail feathers, or some shit, I swear...🙷 It could be useful, to learn the spell, if it’s something a non-witch can do. Never too many healing options in their line of work.

His hand is tense, but her touch is surprisingly gentle; it stings, but that’s to be expected, with that stuff going into an open wound. He doesn’t like it one bit, the unfamiliar Gaelic, not knowing for certain she really is reciting a healing spell ― until the cut begins to close, visibly. 🙶I’ll be damned. I half expected my hand to fall off.🙷 He didn’t, but he’s still ways away from genuine expressions of gratitude.

Random starter: Owen

Music blasted throughout the empty cargo-hold as the pilot worked to complete the necessary repairs. Nothing too serious - a little imbalance in the starboard thruster here, a missing chunk of his portside hull there: minor inconveniences at worst - but still worth dealing with whilst he had time to kill. Relay jumps were tedious at best and mind-numbingly boring when he was being honest, so any work that could offer a distraction was most welcome; the fact everyone had left him alone whilst they went to eat made it even better.

Stradling the wing of his fighter, visor opaque as he welded his ship back together, Owen hadn't heard the chime of the lift arriving on deck. Had he, he'd likely have stopped belting the old Earth song from the top of his lungs and treated Shepard with the respect she deserved. As it was, his back to the elevator doors, the first he knew of Wren's presence was when she was standing on the deck below him.

She figured it’d be a good opportunity to come down and have a chat with Owen; the ship has settled into relative calmness of travel, most of the crew in mess hall for a meal, leaving the cargo hold empty... or, almost empty, anyway.

Wren can hear the music, and the singing, before the elevator door even opens. She listens, her lips curving into a smile, and takes her time approaching him; it’s nice to see her crew in a good mood, even if she feels a little like she’s intruding on Owen’s private moment.

@lanternlit ☾⭒ liked for a random starter!

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing," the amnesiac dwarf mutters to themself as they stand over a corpse, fresh blood still dripping from their dagger, and their hands even still from how deeply they drove the blade. "...doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."

A pause, as their head tilts to the side, thoughtful before they note, "Twenty-seven." No explanation is offered, but given the amount of wounds in the body at their feet, it doesn't necessarily take a genius to understand that's how many times they stabbed their attacker. "Again, and again, and... NO!"

What the hell did he walk into? Exploring planets you’ve never been on before is fun, they said! How exciting to find one, they said! They, of course, were him, twenty minutes or so ago.

🙶OK,🙷 the Doctor says, slowly. This doesn’t feel like a Hello! I’m the Doctor, what’s your name? sort of a meeting. He eyes the corpse, making a quick count of the number of stab wounds. He eyes the blade, dripping with blood. He eyes the... dwarf? Perhaps he shouldn’t make assumptions of their species. That may be rude. Being rude to a person who’s quoting Poe to the corpse of someone they just presumably stabbed to death in some kind of frenzy doesn’t seem like the smartest choice.

Rules changelog - it'd be nice if you either skimmed this post, or re-read my rules page; however, nothing major has changed (in my opinion?) so I'm not going to tell current mutuals they have to re-read. I'll make individual posts about some of the more important (in my opinion...) stuff as well.

Character updates:

Added characters:

Baldur's Gate: Astarion Ancunín, Minsc, Shadowheart

Blindspot: Jane Doe, Rich Dotcom, Roman Briggs

Mass Effect: Legion, Mordin Solus

Supernatural: Jody Mills

Yellowjackets: Van Palmer

Original characters: Vivian Wright

(Moved from her previous blog, Mass Effect/Original character: Wren Shepard)

These are (aside from Wren), for now, on a test muse status, though I have very high inspiration for some, and am more hesitant on others. E.g. Astarion has been shouting at me in my brain for over a year at this point for me to write him... I just don't want to put anyone directly to non-test muse status like I've sometimes done before. Fifteen and Jake also still remain on this status even though they were added much earlier.

Dropped characters:

Chloe Price

Eloise Bridgerton

Ever Hayes

Mary Stuart

River Song

I had no threads or dynamics for anyone except Ever, and I've messaged everyone I had threads with about dropping her. (Not that I drop characters because they have no interactions - I just usually don't drop characters who do have interactions.)

Activity status changes (if I can remember):

Wren Shepard technically added to primary status, but she had her own blog before so... same status...???

Jillian Marks: from primary to secondary

The TARDIS: from primary to secondary

Garrus Vakarian: from secondary to tertiary

Lucius Spriggs: from secondary to tertiary

Astarion. Smug little vampire elf bastard

Shadowheart

Minsc

Jane. IT IS SO FUCKING WEIRD TO ME ksbnmsbn the story of how I picked up her and the other two from this show. I had screencapped the entire five seasons (100 episodes...) of it because main source for my Shepard FC icons? So eventually I just. watched it. And now I not only use the same FC for two characters but??? the first was an OC??? It's like how I mainly use Nikita as a source for Iris, and if I picked up Alex Udinov as a muse? IT FEELS WEIRD AND WRONG. But I cannot not add Jane. I'm literally. I'm not partial to the FC, I just watched the show BECAUSE Shepard FC and here we are...

Rich. I think his. his. shirt. I think his shirt says enough (also I would wear that). Listen sometimes I will pick up the little freaks. His birth name is Gordon Meredith Enver, btw. And his canon boyfriend's name is Boston Arliss Crab. I'm not making any of this up...

Roman.

Jody.

Legion. LOOK AT MY FAVOURITE MASS EFFECT CHARACTER IN HIS GREEN?? PSD??? GLORY

Mordin. -sniffs- Had to be him.

Van. Adult timeline icon, teen timeline will also be written here. Would you believe me if I told you that I've also screencapped Lauren Ambrose in Six Feet Under because... Van... I want... icons for like... 25 years between show canon timelines... If Liv Hewson does anything that I can cap for Van college vibes at some point. well,

Interest tracker uno reverse, oh my! My interest tracker is now entirely optional. From my guidelines:

My interest tracker is optional. If you don’t fill it out, I’ll simply assume all/any of my characters are free game. If you want to indicate your interest further (if there are characters you want to prioritise, characters you would not want to interact with under any circumstances, your preferences with anything else...), you can use the interest tracker to do so. Please never assume that’s it’s “obvious” to me which characters you are or aren’t interested in. If you don’t want to fill out the tracker but also don’t want to interact with some of the characters I’ve sent your way, you can simply not respond. I don’t always remember whom I’ve sent memes to and from, so please don’t expect me to “take a hint” — just use the tracker or communicate with me some other way, if you want me to stop sending memes from a specific character. You are allowed to be uninterested in any of my characters, including my OCs. It’s OK if you’re only here for one specific canon character! I’m not going to judge you for that. It’s equally OK if you’re here for literally every character I write! I’m not going to be overwhelmed by that.

I now have a public thread tracker (my turn / your turn) linked on my pinned post. From my guidelines:

My thread tracker is available for anyone to see so that there’s an easy way to check if something is your turn, or if I’m aware something is my turn. If you don’t see our thread on the list, let me know! Conversely, if you’ve dropped something that’s on the list, you can also let me know. I don’t archive any plotted threads from my tracker unless they are dropped (i.e. one of us has communicated with the other that the thread is dropped — I will not assume based on time passing) or we unfollow each other. When I track a meme response, if it hasn’t been turned into a thread within about a year, I usually archive it automatically (but you are still welcome to respond). Other unplotted threads I don’t really have a set time for. If I’ve archived a thread and you’d like to continue it, feel free to just do so if it was your turn to reply, and I’ll unarchive it. If it was my turn to reply, come talk to me about it and I’m very likely to pick it back up if we figure out how to continue it.

Please note that this isn't currently completely up to date because...

...I moved Wren from her old blog here - her url being updated to lanternlit, I can only track her threads once I reblog them to this blog.

...I've archived a metric fuckton of my threads, and I did this heavy-handedly with anything that wasn't on my turn. If you want to continue threads that are your turn but not tracked, I'll simply retrack them when you reply; no need to ask me for permission to continue them!

Rules changes: dialogue splicing (please don't do it, it makes it hard to write)

First and foremost, please don't think I'm adding this rule because of you, specifically. Most people do this, sometimes. I've done this, on many occassion, and slowly learnt to avoid it more. I've had issues around this for years, if not over a decade; I don't have specific people in mind. Do not worry!

"Havu, if you've had issues with this for A DECADE why haven't you said anything before???" well you see. I've struggled to find a way to explain it -pensive emoji- like. I fucking spent days wording this while I was away I think.

Please try to avoid dialogue splicing. Please always assume that anything my character says, even if separated into different paragraphs, doesn’t leave enough pause for your character to reply in-between. This doesn’t only apply to dialogue, but that’s usually where splicing becomes an issue. If your character would interrupt mine, please just tell me to edit my previous response instead of splicing the thread into two or more parts. I would much rather edit and/or delete parts of my previous response (even it that makes it considerably shorter) than end up with a spliced thread. Your character replying separately to something from my first paragraph and my third paragraph makes the flow of a thread extremely unnatural and difficult to respond to. This can lead to me being overwhelmed by a thread, which may lead to my taking even longer to reply or dropping the thread entirely. That said, if you don’t understand what I’m trying to convey here, you don’t need to overthink it — this is not a strict no-mistakes-allowed rule, but more of a request, a suggestion to make our interactions flow better. I find this incredibly difficult to explain, so I know it probably sounds convoluted.

To emphasise: if you don’t understand what I’m trying to convey here, you don’t need to overthink it — this is not a strict no-mistakes-allowed rule, but more of a request, a suggestion to make our interactions flow better.

I am not trying to target any specific people with this guideline at all!

This is something I've figured out about my own preferences over the years and finally feel like I can implement; please don't let it discourage you

Copy paste of my LONG ASS footnotes examples and further explanations under the cut

lads if i ever have to type “pin against the wall” ever again in this lifetime, it’ll be too soon, but i really hope you enjoy these!! if you think of more that you would like to be added, let me know! please do NOT add more in the reblogs, it is VERY likely that i can and will be making a second part to this list! now go drink some water and i hope y’all enjoy the memes!

LAST EDITED: 01/06/22

[ KISS ]:     sender pins receiver against the wall and kisses them passionately.

[ ANGER ]:     sender pins receiver against the wall out of anger.

[ CHALLENGE ]:     in a motion designed to challenge the receiver’s authority, sender pins receiver against the wall.

[ TRAINING ]:     during a sparring match, sender ends up pinning the receiver against the wall.

[ HEAT ]:      while in the middle of a make-out session, sender pushes the receiver up against the wall, unwittingly heating things up even more.

[ SHIELD ]:     in order to protect them from physical harm caused by a third party, the sender shoves the receiver against the wall and shields them with their body.

[ COVER ]:     while hiding from persecutors, sender pushes the receiver against a wall and uses their body to hide the receiver’s face from view.

[ HIDE ]:     while on the run, the sender hastily grabs the receiver and pins them against a wall that’s hidden from public view to avoid being seen.

[ STOP ]:     in order to stop the receiver from walking away, the sender guides them back and pushes them against a wall.

[ FIGHT ]:     while in a physical fight, sender shoves the receiver against the wall in an effort to gain the upper hand.

[ RESTRAIN ]:     sender pushes the receiver back against the wall to stop them from physically fighting the sender.

[ STEADY ]:     sender gently catches and guides the emotionally distressed receiver against a wall in order to physically steady them.

[ CLOSER ]:     while pinning the receiver against the wall, sender glances down at their lips, suddenly aware of how close they are to one another…

[ THROAT ]: sender pins the receiver to the wall by placing a hand or forearm against their throat.

[ FRONT ]: sender shoves the receiver against the wall so that the receiver’s front is pressed against the wall.

[ WHISPER ]: sender pins the receiver against a wall in order to whisper something into their ear (either a secret or in a manner of seduction).

[ FEAR ]: in order to frighten or intimidate the receiver, the sender shoves them back against a wall, positioning themselves so that the receiver can’t get out.

[ HUSH ]: as a means of getting the receiver to stay quiet, the sender covers their mouth and ends up shoving them into a wall in their urgency.

❝ that’s not a star. ❞

❝ you glitched again. ❞

❝ don’t open the airlock. ❞

❝ the ship’s listening. ❞

❝ you’re not on the map. ❞

❝ gravity feels wrong. ❞

❝ whose voice is that? ❞

❝ this isn’t my timeline. ❞

❝ oxygen’s almost gone. ❞

❝ don’t trust the ai. ❞

❝ we shouldn’t be awake. ❞

❝ your eyes are glowing. ❞

❝ that planet’s moving. ❞

❝ you weren’t born here. ❞

❝ the void knows your name. ❞

❝ don’t touch that! do you even know what species’ dna is inside this vial? ❞

❝ our ship wasn’t built for stealth runs, but if we reroute the thrusters? maybe. ❞

❝ you’ve been out here long enough to forget the sound of real rain, haven’t you?❞

❝ that isn’t a star, it’s a distress beacon. and it’s getting closer. ❞

❝ don’t panic. the ai only tries to kill its crew every third cycle. ❞

❝ you’re bleeding starlight again. how long were you exposed? ❞

❝ i’ve seen black holes less dangerous than your plans. ❞

❝ do you trust me enough to share oxygen? ❞

❝ this isn’t time travel. it’s something stranger. ❞

❝ careful. the walls remember every word we speak. ❞

❝ you weren’t supposed to wake up before the colony ship landed. ❞

❝ they say the void whispers but it’s been shouting your name. ❞

❝ don’t smile like that. you look like the androids when their code glitches. ❞

❝ if we get caught, they’ll erase us from the timeline like we never existed. ❞

❝ the stars are moving wrong again. tell me you see it too. ❞

' ' wren, ' ' he tells her. ' ' your name is wren. wren s. ' ' it doesn't surprise him that it's taken her this long to bring up her own name. after all, when you feel threatened it's the least of your worries. ' ' and if you don't want the job, you can always apply to quit, and it will be reviewed by your outie - the, uh... the other half of you that's aware out there. ' ' granted, the chance of it being approved was slim. not zero, admittedly, as some were luck (if you could call it that) enough for their outie to agree to quit. but in most cases, they didn't.

' ' of course... if you stop working here, that means this part of you, the you that's awake and in control right now, will essentially stop existing. ' ' now that part, was the part that made mark realize maybe he didn't want to stop working here after all. because memories or not, he felt like a person. a person who didn't want to stop living, even if that entire life was spent in an office.

Wren S.  So he’s not even going to tell her her surname. Or, more likely... he doesn’t know, either. Wren... She can’t remember anything. She can’t even really trust that it’s not just some random name they  —  whoever’s running this thing  —  assigned her. Who’s to say she’s even human? She could be some... construct that thinks it’s—  Wren S., a person.

Apply to quit... She can guess these applications don’t always come back approved. So she’s stuck here. She might not know who she is, but there  must be some good reason  she would do this to herself. And, fuck, if there isn’t? Who she’s now - she can’t just try to run, can she? Not before figuring this place out.

But she knew she also couldn’t ignore what Cas was saying. She believed him, in some manner; she just didn’t believe what happened was Cerberus-sanctioned, or at the very least, had gone in a direction that wasn’t sanctioned by Cerberus. It was a curious scenario for sure, and she believed things had happened; she just didn’t believe it was a level Cerberus would stoop to.

And she saw fit to explain that. “Each individual cell within Cerberus is more like its own organization, funded by the larger structure.” She knew she couldn’t reveal her true feelings too deeply about Akuze; with how close she was to the Illusive Man, it could be seen as treasonous to reveal their involvement too deeply. Certain care had to be taken, but Miranda was not without morals. “So, yes—too far for the advancement of humanity is an accurate assessment.” She held up a hand, indicating she did, in fact, have more to add to her point. “It certainly is not how I would have done things.” Her version of too far was important to note; surely, Cas would be able to see her opinion for what it was.

Her voice lowered. “I can’t say, with any degree of certainty, that what happened was Cerberus-sanctioned. It’s information I do not have.” That, at least, was the truth; she did not know what she could confidently say was the truth. “Do I believe what happened to you? Do I believe that you are telling the truth? Certainly, without question. The scars and your reaction speaks for itself. But it would be inherently foolish of me to agree or disagree with anything beyond that without all of the facts. I can agree on what happened—but I cannot agree on who.” That was, unfortunately, a truth she had to maintain. Unless she has information that said otherwise, she couldn’t confidently say whether Cerberus was involved or not.

But that wasn’t her entire point. “What I mean when I say too far is… perhaps not as dismissive as you believe it to be. Information and context is important when it comes to what we do. Most would say that what I did—bringing Shepard back—was immoral, perhaps even terrible, playing with forces that are beyond our control, even. After all, there have been stories aplenty about the arrogance of man trying to play God and how it’s failed.” It was something that would be looked down upon, without question. After all, if they could do it once, who was to say they couldn’t bring back others? “But… when you factor in the context of the Collectors and the potential involvement of the Reapers, the situation becomes very different. Shepard is the one person in the galaxy who can handle that. So, at times, what may be considered immoral or questionable, with the right context, becomes a blurred line and grey area that is a necessity for the greater good.

“So yes—Cerberus involvement or not aside, as whether or not they are involved is irrelevant in my opinion of the scenario, too far is exactly what I would call it. Along with short-sighted, piss-poor planning, egregiously nonsensical, morally bankrupt, pointless, and I’d gladly shoot the imbecile who thought it would result in anything.” Surprisingly, there was clear disdain in her voice, and perhaps a hint of anger; regardless of her loyalty to Cerberus, Miranda did not agree that anything on Akuze had been good or even remotely successful. “Because while Cerberus does indeed have humanity’s best interests at heart with intentions and ideas, there is a line when it comes to what is acceptable risk, choices, and concepts.” Pursing her lips, Miranda’s posture and tone made it abundantly clear how she felt about Akuze; she believed it was a wasteful, pointless endeavour. She believed there was no rhyme or reason to what was done.

“The only silver lining is that at least someone survived.” At least she could find one. But her tone softened as she found yet another silver lining. “And truthfully… I believe the good in this is that you are a reminder to Shepard that what she experienced was real. Because your experiences can and do corroborate the memories she has.” It was one of the only reasons she’d agreed to let Cas aboard; that reminder would likely serve well to keeping Shepard together in all of this. Though scientific and direct, Miranda was not quite as cold as many assumed. She did care; she just didn’t like others to know that she did.

To her credit, she doesn’t  look away, or flinch,  at his scars. Cas believes he would respect her less for it, if she did  —  he’s got no time to waste on people who refuse to see the truth. But Miranda, at least, owns where she stands with her full chest, even if where she stands is wrong.

Cas brushes his fingertip to the scar before he lets his hand fall away.

He gives a sigh as she keeps talking in circles around the same point. She’s saying almost nothing in so many words  —  there’s something so careful, performative, even political, in the way she expresses herself. It’s like listening to Cerberus public relations, rather than a person. He’s suddenly so tired. Falling back a few steps, he leans against a wall and crosses his arms over his chest, though he keeps his gaze on her, not breaking eye-contact for as long as she speaks.

It’s not about the way Cerberus is structured. It’s not about the logistics of the organisation, it’s about the real, human  —  and alien  —  effect of it all. It’s not about facts, it’s about experience, injustice, ethics. She believes him? That’s  the bare minimum.  Does she expect him to be grateful for that? It feels insulting. Too far implies that that same endeavour, however many notches down the line, would be acceptable. Not torture, maybe, it’s not that he thinks she’s in favour of torture, but the underlying values of it all...

What he can agree with her on, is that there is some good that can come out of it. If he can be of use in not only combat, but also as a stabilising force for Shepard, that serves everybody.

He looks away, when she says she’s sorry. 🙶I do not want your sympathy,🙷 he says, simply. He’s not fishing for compassion for himself, he only wants... he’s not sure what he wants, other than to not have to work with Cerberus. Maybe a part of him is simply looking to take his frustrations out on someone.