#already made it further through the dlc than i ever had before

[ghirahimbo]

girlfriends 🪷

[rallamajoop]

The Baker Incident Report and the Resident Evil 7 Guidebook

While I’m talking obscure sources of RE7 lore, there's a couple more I’ve been poking through lately: the Baker Incident Report file (only available with the RE8 Trauma Pack DLC), and the BIOHAZARD 7 resident evil kaitaishinsho or RE7 guidebook (only available in Japanese, though some translations have made their way online).

I’m not the biggest fan of these kinds of ‘canon’ – fans shouldn’t have to go pouring through pages of DLC-exclusive-text-dumps or untranslated supplements to find out WTF was supposed to be going on – and both of these have other problems I’ll get into below. All that said, here's some of the more interesting new info they give us.

From the BIR, the Winters were moved to ‘Eastern Europe’, as witness protection from the Connections. That's still frustratingly unspecific, but more than we’re ever explicitly told in the game.

The lab that created Eveline is in Munich, Germany, per the BIR. This one does add up: close enough to Eastern Europe for Miranda to be involved, but not so close that it would necessarily ring alarm bells for Mia when the BSAA wanted to move them right to Miranda’s doorstep. Mia’s obviously been to the Munich lab, but presumably didn’t know exactly where the mould comes from (something redacted out even in their own reports). The guidebook also places the lab in Europe, but doesn't give a city. The BIR adds that the Connections are active in Eastern Europe, and we know they have facilities in Central America. Presumably there are offices in Texas too ‒ Mia can't be commuting cross continents to get to work every day.

Eveline was shipped to Central America due to an attempted raid by the BSAA, which is far more we learn from the "Orders" file from the game. The BIR goes so far as to imply that this botched operation was indirectly responsible for the whole Baker Incident, with Chris and his team leaving due to their frustration with the BSAA's attempts to cover the incident up. The guidebook, however, tells us Chris Redfield was actually the guy leading the team behind the failed raid. I assume we’re meant to take it that the mission failed because of an info leak, but I’m still amused by just how ineffectual this franchise keeps making Chris out to be.

Post RE7, Zoe is working as a reporter for a small paper in New Orleans. We don't know if she too went through witness protection but her name was listed among the dead at the Baker mansion.

Ethan is called a systems engineer in both the guide book and the BIR (this one does seem to have been spread around fandom more widely).

Eveline was created in the early 2000s, according to the guidebook. This one really doesn't add up for me: if the project started in 2000 and had already advanced through the A-E series by the early 2000s, why did it stagnate there for the next 10 years without further progress? Did Miranda leaving the project set it back so far? They can't have been waiting for Eveline to grow up, she can age 25x faster than usual, and is being deliberately maintained at the age of a 10yo girl. IDEK, I'd be inclined to ignore this one.

The guidebook states that Mia told people she worked for a "trading company," and was often away from home for work, something which had already strained the Winters’ marriage. I'd guess she told people she spent a lot of time accompanying shipments of goods when she was really smuggling materials or taking part in covert operations for the Connections.

The guidebook gives 2010 as the year she started working for the Connections (a year before her marriage to Ethan in 2011, though it doesn’t mention when they met, which may well have been 2010 or earlier). Mind you, this is also the one bit that randomly calls her "a researcher", so take it as you will (more on this below).

Of Mia's involvement with the project that created Eveline, it says only that the Connections' Special Agents Alan and Mia were assigned to transport Eveline to America. No real indication Mia was ever involved before then.

Of Mia's relationship to Eveline, it says that Mia "found Eveline creepy, but felt sympathy for her lonely situation." You and the rest of us, Mia.

Eveline forced Mia to lure Ethan to the Bakers' property in hope that adding Ethan to their family would make Mia more compliant, according to the guidebook. Eveline was especially fixated on Mia, having known her longer than the Bakers, and was frustrated with Mia's continued resistance to her control. Mia seems to have tried to keep Ethan's existence secret from Eveline to protect him, but somehow let it slip. All this is already implied in-game, of course, but it's nice to have it spelt out.

The Bakers feed people infected food because “oral and mucosal infections” are supposedly better for mould-powered mind-control. Ethan is obviously already infected AF well before their attempts to feed him 'dinner' (there's no way his severed hand would be usable otherwise), but IDK, maybe ingesting some extra mould would have made it easier for Eveline to control him? I'm sure a 10yo girl and a family of hillbillies do not have this down to an exact science, and I wouldn't even be surprised if feeding people mould was counter-productive somehow, given their success rate.

So why did none of those infected prisoners join Eveline's "family" alongside the Bakers? The guide book tells us simply that all were "deemed unfit" as family members, and were thus killed, and converted into molded instead.

We get official names for all the molded types we meet in the game (Moulded, Blade Moulded, Quick Moulded and Fat Moulded – pretty self-explanatory).

As a side-note, Ethan himself gets referred to as a ‘molded’ around this fandom a lot, which really isn’t correct. Ethan’s infected by the mold in the same manner as the Baker family, whereas ‘molded’ is a term coined to describe what amounts to mutamycete zombies (see above): the unintelligent, inhuman monsters that made up the generic enemy types of RE7, whose whole bodies are simply “superorganisms formed of countless mycelia.”

The guide book also implies that Jack’s final, mutated form reflects that he’s starting to become a moulded himself, which is a very interesting little detail.

Notes attached to concept art suggest that most moulded are created from dead bodies, covered by mould in bathtubs to convert them. Eveline is also seen spontaneously converting people to shapeless mould though, and clearly converted much of the ship’s crew into moulded-creatures in a very short time after her escape. It’s not super-consistent, but it is all horror-logic at its best (read: the rules are whatever will make this scene scarier).

There’s a bunch of additional stuff in the BIR naming the Connections’ founder as Brandon Bailey, someone who naturally has ties to Umbrella, blah, blah, blah ‒ I’m sure it all means more to fans of some of the older games. I can't pretend to have much interest in this part myself.

So with all that interesting info, what's my big problem with these sources? Well, for one thing, you don’t have to look far into the guidebook to find info that contradicts what we already know – and sometimes even itself. One page clearly describes Mia as a special agent working for the Connections ‒ a description that matches the wording used in the Orders document, and everything we see Mia doing in the game. But then another page randomly tells us Mia was hired as "a researcher" ‒ a description that matches nothing else we know about her (though it's an irritatingly common misconception, and this book may be the reason why). No-one's checking any of this stuff for consistency.

The guidebook also features such other gems as telling us Ethan currently lives and works in Los Angeles, when both Mia’s driver’s license and all geographical logic tell us they’re from Texas. Then there's that weird bit about Eveline being created in the early 2000s... and realistically, I can only assume a lot of what made it into the book may have come from earlier concept notes that were never updated as the story developed ‒ and if you read anything else on the production of this game, you'd know that concepts changed massively as development went on.

But more frustrating is everything the book doesn’t tell us. There isn’t a word said about the oh-so-mysterious "imprinting protocol" that Mia references in the game. How does it work? Is it, as the ending text spiel seems to imply, merely something that can be implemented in a hurry when Eveline needs to be transported across the globe? Can she be imprinted on more than one person at once? Has she ever been imprinted on anyone else? That seems likely, given that the lab’s in Munich while Mia lives in Texas (and if she's really been around since the early 2000s and Mia joined the company only in 2010, she logically must have been), but we don’t find out. Does Eveline get similarly obsessed with everyone she’s imprinted on, or is Mia special? Not a clue.

Since the guidebook was released in March 2017, long before the Not a Hero and End of Zoe DLCs, neither expansion is mentioned in the text. And since we don’t even learn the name ‘The Connections’ until the Not A Hero DLC, the group that created Eveline is referred to simply as the “mysterious organisation” (with quotes) whenever it comes up.

Nothing is said in the guidebook about the new incarnation of Umbrella which was so prominently involved at the end of RE7 either. Possibly, this too was to avoid spoilers for Not A Hero, which does at least give us some info on them – but then, the Baker Incident Report doesn’t mention the new Umbrella at all either, and it doesn’t have that excuse. That omission is all the stranger, considering that Zoe’s whole purpose in writing it is supposedly to expose the cover-up after the Baker Incident – doesn’t Umbrella factor into that at all? It’s like their whole role in RE7 has just wiped clean.

It's also obvious there was so much more lore written for this game that the guide book doesn’t share. Early versions of collectable documents that can still be found in the game files give the D-series head and arm some fascinating backstory, but there’s nothing about them in the guide book, which is a real shame.

Mia especially stands out as a character who must have so much backstory we never hear anything about. How did she get involved with a company as evil as the Connections? How did she justify it to herself for so long – what excuses did she make to herself? Did she genuinely believe they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers? Was she gathering evidence against them, was she scared they’d kill her if she left? Not one single word in either the guidebook or the BIR to explain.

Even more annoying to me, though, is just what a wasted opportunity the Baker Incident Report is to add more to Zoe’s story, when she’s one of my favourite RE characters. Included in the text is a letter she received from Mia, giving what should have been the perfect opportunity to flesh out the relationship Zoe and Mia must have built in the three years they spent trapped in the Baker property, the only two (semi-)sane people present – and what does the letter do? Imply they hardly knew each other at all. It’s the most boring possible answer, it contradicts hints from the actual game (Marguerite outright tells us they've been working together, even!), and GDI, you do not get to tell me that my girls didn’t know each other! ;_;

Ethan and Mia similarly get the short shrift. Throughout RE7 their every interaction is building to a big scene that never actually happens where Ethan finds out the truth – Ethan knows Mia’s been keeping secrets, he never stops asking questions about it, and Mia says outright that she wants to come clean. So what does the BIR tell us? Well, post RE7, Mia mentions in an interview that she doesn’t want anyone telling Ethan. Not a word about what changed her mind. Not a word about why Ethan would just stop asking. Total cop-out.

And there’s so much more it could have covered too. There's nothing about Ethan’s ‘military training’. Nothing about the Winters' relationship with Chris. Mia’s conversation with him in RE8 suggests he was personally involved in relocating them to Eastern Europe, but the BIR doesn’t mention that either. The BIR at large is basically just an extended lore dump, and it doesn’t even sound like Zoe’s voice.

So this is about where I finish up with both of these sources: frustrating, inaccessible, inconsistent, and more missed opportunities than real material. There’s a lot in both I’ll happily go on ignoring. But I’ll still pour through them for every last interesting detail, because I am that obsessed with this canon right now, and they’re what we’ve got.

[midyearflowers]

i have some Thoughts about totk that i have to get out cause i watched zeltik's review and i agree so hard

obviously major spoilers ahead

so i wanna start by saying i absolutely LOVE totk and its easily my fave zelda game ever, with botw being in second. but i will say both games as incredible as they are definitely suffer from the nintendo treatment in that there are awesome moments that blow everything out of the water, and then there are some bad moments that can really bring them down. case in point for totk specifically, zelda's sacrifice and draconification brings me to tears every time and her final words give me goosebumps. but then the cutscenes after each dungeon are... literally copy and paste. like you play them together and its beat for beat the same ("demon king?? secret stone???" nintendo why....)

like i love the story and think they couldve really had something if they had put more effort in and not only fleshed it out more but delivered it better. the whole "find the memories that can be out of order" thing worked for botw cause you already knew the ending so they were mostly additions rather than the full story. but with totk you dont know the ending, you dont know what its all leading up to. there is a mystery to it all, and being able to basically walk up to the end without any other context just ruins that. its just a weird decision honestly

and this all makes it clear that 90% of the development time went to the gameplay. which isnt entirely a bad thing, the gameplay is fucking AWESOME. the world and the way you interact with it is seamless, they NAILED the atmosphere and sound design for every single thing. like the tense beginning as you get closer to ganondorf, the ancient and solemn sky islands and ruins, the creepy and unknown depths. diving down my first chasm, which wasnt the story one so there were NO lights waiting for me at the bottom, i got CHILLS. Falling further and further, the area getting darker and more gloom infested, to land in endless darkness in all directions and having "the depths" title appear onscreen. *chefs kiss*

tho that brings me to another point in that, like botw, totk suffers from "world too big" and there ends up being many pockets where theres just. nothing. maybe a korok, but those get boring after the first few. but theres so much that is just empty and bare that you wonder if they wouldnt have benefited from a smaller map. like i love open world games, and totk at least added caves to the surface world which helped, but theres really only so many random puzzles you can do before youve seen everything. the depths being an inverted hyrule is SO cool, but they didnt really do anything with it. aside from the camera quest and very brief yiga stuff, there really isnt any real reason to comb the depths, unless you need some zonaite or something. the dlc stuff being treasures you could find was neat, but also nearly every armor being the same as botw except for a couple extras was kinda a let down. the new dragon armors are so cool and unique, i wish they did more

the zonai. merely hinted at in botw through ruins and vague item descriptions. they were so mysterious and literally everyone was theorizing on them. and then we get a game that is going to explore it all! the mystery is going to be solved! .....except it wasnt. id almost argue we know LESS about the zonai than we did before. they supposedly descended from the heavens with magical artifacts and founded the kingdom of hyrule, and then when zelda travels back to this time, theres only 2 zonai left and they barely know anything about their own species??? like what?? its like the timeline between the first mural and the second is like. centuries. why are there only 2, where did the rest go? if they were there before the kingdom of hyrule, what did they do? WHY did they descend from the heavens? it feels like nintendo needed to explain where the new tech was from since it wasnt sheikah, so they just kinda made stuff up as they went to justify it. its as if the story was just built around the gameplay. which id honestly believe cause initially it was just supposed to be dlc for botw but they came up with too many ideas so just made a new game in the same world

which brings me to my next point. why was it marketed as the sequel to botw, when it basically did its hardest to pretend botw didnt even happen. the botw references were basically just that. references. not continuing the story or adding to it. its just "yea that happened and we're rebuilding now". the fact the developers literally just said "eh the sheikah tech just disappeared one day and no one knows why" like come ON. not to mention all of the important characters you directly affected in botw seemingly forgetting link exists within the 2-3 years between the games. the man who you paid to build your house doesnt even recognize you! HESTU doesnt recognize you, and youre one of like 3 people who can see him!! the people of HATENO where link literally LIVES dont recognize him!!!!!!!! WHY

i have more but this is already long. i have something else on ganondorf but ill make a separate post. anyway i do love this game with all my heart but nintendo has me scratching my head more often than not

[theclo4ked1]

~Happy Holidays!~ Finally, I am catching a break and I'm so happy to start chillin' with some DLC (downloadable content) in my room. I used DLC as a shitty gaming alternative to TLC (tender loving/love and care), but it's true! Before a few days before Christmas, I just could not remember the last time I played a videogame--the last time I even touched a joystick! I was going through a "withdrawal" period. I wasn't experiencing the actual symptoms of proper substance withdrawal, just this constant realization that every work day passing was another day in my life I was not gaming, another day without Sonic or Mario or Smash Bros., all my faves. But this also helped me realize that this is just where I am right now. Times have changed. My body and mind have changed, and I'm not the "Sonic-X-at-7AM-Saturday-Morning" kid I once was. And you bet I'd be playing Sonic games (SA2 mostly, if I recall) after watching the show that same morning until around noon. I'm thankful I was lucky to have that--HELL I'm thankful to be privileged to still have access to have that, I just have a bit less time now. AHEM but that was about a week ago, this is now! I wanna show you something!

You know "Supa Paypa Sistas", right? It was the best stop-motion animation video I've made in years. It was also the...only one of mine that have made it onto the internet... All the other ones I've made are either lost to/in time, or stowed away on my Windows 7 (the best one) laptop's hard drive. You can re/watch the film via the embed YouTube video, or the post link from the start of this paragraph.

Below are the work-in-progress posts I put on Tumblr leading up to the completed film.

https://theclo4ked1.tumblr.com/post/703490039983800320/the-black-box-a-wip-stop-motion-animation-shot

https://theclo4ked1.tumblr.com/post/703689454131478528/supa-paypa-sistas-no-longer-the-black-box

There exists a third draft video that's not on Tumblr and has only ever been used for an outside purpose. Y'know, it's been about a year since I finished that film. I suppose this post is something of an anniversary, and that makes me proud. Without further ado, NOW! for the moment you've been waiting for: what I wanted to show you! Since Tumblr allows only one video per post, I've compiled the forgotten tests and extras I did just before working on "Supa Paypa Sistas", all in a neat Windows Movie Maker package for you :3 They're rough and run slower than the final film because I had initially underestimated the 3DS' ten frames/second animation runtime and did animation on twos instead of ones. Beneath the video I'll detail some things about each cut.

Music: Is That You or Are You You? - Chris Zabriskie

The camera easing test was probably done just as a test. Easing was a concept I've applied already in 2D animation, but in stop-motion, I needed this to create something of higher quality.

True, before the box, there was this bear thing that transformed in a kraken because a super pill went up its butt. I dunno what I was thinking last year, it was late at night.

All three of Veretta's animation tests were just ways of getting the film to start. Two of the cuts were based around the idea of her creation. You can see she was originally put together with just tape before I turned her and Nina into paper dolls using string to increase efficiency. There's one frame at the end of the third test where you can see the circle where Veretta's shoulder connects her arm to her body.

The bouncing box was another easing test to simulate physics with the box's reaction gravity and material. I never thought of what that material is.

Nina's only appearance before the film started was her sliding on the ground.

Veretta's final cut, also the final of the cutting room floor, is her just falling. This was probably a test put after a planned creation since that's what happens with Nina after her creation in the film.

The last thing I want to share are these two photos I captured of the two sisters on December 7, 2022, after I had drawn and cut out all of their limbs. Since the faces were drawn with pencil, I was able to erase and create new expressions when I needed, but Veretta's left facing face was harder to change because I pressed the pencil to hard, so she kinda had a "resting Donkey Kong face".

In an email explaining my animation process, I told my recipient "Nina and Veretta are bristol board paper dolls I made using 8 limbs each: Head, torso, 2 pairs of full length arms, 2 pairs of thighs, and 2 pairs shins/foot parts, ALL painstakingly cut, and bonded by tape, glue and string to create two girls." I think that's all I wanted to say about my little film. I hope to make more things like that in the future, but maybe not with those puppets, they're relics now. I keep them in a drawer of other stuff I've made "by hand" in the last, maybe, eight years? They even have the same expressions I left them with after the film ended. Up for auction: never. Thanks for reading!

[deathoverdignity]

Really enjoyed Cyberpunk 2077 (even half finished & by God the staff better get the biggest bonus ever seen in gaming development for the abusive shite CDPR put them through) but the story is what makes it. Almost an Odyssey flavour to it but the character development between V & Johnny is just *chefs kiss* Like, how after trust is built without either of them noticing “I” becomes “We”

“How much would this set us back?”

“We couldnt afford it!”

“We asked you out on a date”.

This is both beautiful & devastating. Them giving in subconsciously to what’s happening to them, losing their individual identity but not fighting it anymore without even realising it because of a genuine connection built through the positive & negative, hardship & codependency intertwined.

And the bittersweetness of it all. Johnny finally developing empathy & genuine care & love for another human being while at the same time his existence is literally killing them. When he describes how sometimes when he wakes up and feels empty until he remembers that V is always there & is filled with relief....I have too many feelings!

I love “enemies to friends” trope, but the relationship between V & Johnny is more than that. Sad Boi/Gurl V reeling from the loss of the only person in the world that cared for them and finding connection again where they never expected it. Johnny finally peeping out from behind the gargantuan cocktail of narcissism, justified rage & depression that defined him to realise the surface level friendships & love he had before were just that...shallow. Even the relationships he though were real, like Alt, he’s forced to face the truth that they didn’t really exist. Alt herself said Johnny’s memories of her rescue are basically lies he tells himself. Johnny doesn’t know HOW to be a good person but he’s trying so damn hard & Vs magnanimity is the catalyst of it all.

The inherent darkness too to the ending connected to having the “best” connection with Johnny. If you say all the right things, Johnny offers the secret ending which is so much fun, storming Arasaka together, not having to sacrifice your friends. This is bittersweet though too because the V that’s left behind seems lost, disconnected even from their lover, leaving them to chase glory & the faint opportunity to live. But really, I felt like V doesn’t really believe there’s light at the end of the tunnel. This is going out in the blaze of glory, V doesnt know how to live without Johnny in their mind anymore. Sadder again is the Johnny ending here. Johnny has already said how empty he feels at the thought of V not being there beside him, together in their head.

It’s telling that Johnny doesn’t contact anyone, not even Vs love interest, even if that love interest is Kerry who knows about Johnny, to tell them about what happened. That’s pure shame. Johnny isn’t free. Johnny is directionless, stuck with the emptiness. I love Rogues voicemail with this ending; the disappointment. She’s done with him. The implicit criticism being that Johnny somehow tricked V, this kid who loved him and Johnny took advantage when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

No one understands them after this, they’re forever changed. There is no more V or Johnny, just some residual emalgamate that’s bereft in the absence of their unity.

I wonder if a true happy ending would have been for both of them to go into cyberspace together with Alt, or live out the rest of their lives together even if it would be for a short time. Cruel but kinder ultimately. In a way, that’s the choice in the “secret” scenario that they chose.

As Johnny said; “He’d be honoured to join you in a wild suicide run”.

V expressed astonishment when they successfully reach Mikoshi. They DID NOT expect to live. They made their choice to die a legend like Johnny, together, saying one last fuck you to Arasaka. They never counted on what comes next. That’s the reason the credits roll if you die and it’s the same voicemail reactions that you get in the rooftop suicide scene. Vs loved ones perceive the end result to be the same, only Johnny and V know there was a difference between giving up on the roof or exploding like a volcano at Arasaka HQ.

“I will not yield

I will not fall

I will eat dynamite

And one day I will explode

Like a volcano”

When V meets the fighter twins who’ve tried to merge consciousness, they’re dismissive and cruel. I wonder if the V later towards the end of the game understands them just that bit more. Okay that’s my obsessive thinking done.

Love it! Can’t wait for the DLC!

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

WELP here it is, my totally self indulgent reader x binsung fic that has developed into so much more than I expected!! thank you lovelies for hyping me up to write more of this story ily!! hehe we are indeed in for a spicy, angsty, and fluffy time!! You can read part 1 here

Part 2  

Paring: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!jisung, rapper!changbin, artist!reader, established fwb!jisung, explicit language, oral (f receiving), that good, good makin’ out,   sub!reader, cockydom!jisung, on that note, jisung being horny as hellll, the cutest bestfriend!felix there is, changbin’s flirty ass, a sprinkling of angst, ro being in her fanfic writer element uwu 

Word count: 3.1k

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

[00:19] 

han jisung: you like the performance? 

you looked stunning. 

where did you go? i couldn’t find you. i even stayed after. 

[00:28] 

me: oh really? just for me? 

han jisung: you left something at my place last time, I was going to give it back to you. 

me: that’s why you wanted to see me? i don’t believe you. 

[00:36] 

han jisung: are you doing anything right now? 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Against the heat of your sweating body on the matted quilt, a winter chill seeped in through the wooden windowsill, dusty with age. Had you not been burning with heat, you would have been freezing. Fistfuls of the quilt filled up your hands, and your fingers dug into the fabric hard enough to make your nailbeds change color. You hadn’t even noticed that you had been slightly grinding into his mouth. 

“you taste so good baby,” Jisung’s breath swirled into your swollen clit.

A tiny squeak escaped your lips at the sensation.

Both of his arms had curled under your legs to pull them farther apart, lending his nails to dig lightly into your skin. He chuckled out pridefully onto your sensitive bud, the vibrations heightening your arousal. Jisung kissed gently into you with the luxurious sounds of your excitement and his saliva mixing on his lips. His eyes held a mischievous green haze as he would look up at you with his big brown eyes, flattening out his tongue to lick at you in thick, agonizing lines. At last, he would suck and on your clit, flicking his tongue around it sporadically, as if he was giving every nerve ending his complete attention.

The way that he would suck on your clit was unreal.

As if to balance yourself, you raked one of your hands instinctually through his nearly black strands.  

“Ji--” You choked out half of his name, too weak to summon the rest.

You were impossibly close. With eyes scrunched up a little, they rolled up from his taunting gaze to your ceiling.

On the shitty paint job up there, there was a crack. It was an ugly crack at that: the kind that was browning from water damage and segued into other tinier veins. Your apartment was old anyway. It wasn’t uncommon for old apartments like that to have cracks in the ceiling.  

You hadn’t really recognized it before.

Why haven’t I noticed that before?

“fuck, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm.” You focused back on his lapping tongue, feeling the tension build once more. “ ‘M close.”

Jisung quickened his pace, sucking harder and rubbing the tip of his tongue over your mound. You could even feel the little haughty smile on his mouth when your hips jerked up toward him.

As you neared your orgasm, memories fogged your eyes, you let them roll over and over, relishing in how good it had all felt. Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to feel filled up hopelessly deep inside.

“f-fingers” Your whispers begged.

Jisung obliged, sliding his index and ring in to pump in and out of your walls.

Perhaps you had made it up to feel better than it was in your head.

You came a couple minutes after, limbs shaking under his teasing while he helped you ride out your high, tongue still circling around your clit. Shallow inhales filled up your lungs as you calmed your body.

You didn’t remember it feeling like that...you remembered it being...unreal.

Jisung lead kisses up your stomach before giving a couple fleeting kisses to your breast, smug as he always was.

“-Felt good?”

Little aftershocks still tugged at your body. “...As always Ji.”

“Mm. Good.” He beamed widely with the pearly white grin that had drawn you to him in the first place. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Jisung tugged his boxers down, letting free his properly hardened member, veiny and tip dripping with his eager pre-cum. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Jisung prowled over your body, stretching out your legs up in front of him.

Your thighs shook in his hands.

“Jisung, wait--”

“--What is it?” Worriedly, his eyes widened looking down at you.

“...can we give it a sec? Can you give me a sec?”

His puzzled expression gave you his answer.

“I just fucking came Ji, can’t you give me a damn minute to settle down before we go at it again?”

His mouth formed a little “oh” then he slid down to lay beside you, brows crossed slightly. “...you’ve never asked for this before.”

“just shut up and kiss me alright?”

Jisung nodded, bridging the gap between your faces and the mess of pillows under your heads.

When Jisung wasn’t trying to fuck you, he was actually a decent kisser. Against your better judgement, there had been times when you would let your mind linger over these kisses that you had wished he had given you more of. His mouth was warm, and tasted slightly of your arousal from before. Jisung’s tongue asked for permission on your bottom lip, which you granted entrance. He leaned himself further into you, moaning breathily into your mouth. Just because you liked how he would whine for you, you pulled at his lip with your teeth.

You don’t know why your eyes had opened, but there it was again. The crack.

How long had it been there?

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“I just can’t believe you, Y/n.”  

Felix’s voiced echoed though the empty alley, your favored shortcut to campus. Dumpsters covered with snow lined the road riddled in potholes. In each hole, melted snow had leaked in to turn to ice once more. Felix had already slipped three times. Both of your arms linked together to make him feel better.

“How many times are you gonna make me apologize? It ended up being fine anyway.”

“When I say to text me when you get back, what are you supposed to do?”

“Text when I get ba-- “

“--Text when you get back!!!” The little puffball on Felix’s hat bounced in his frustration. “You couldn’t even text me to tell me that something had happened? Do you know how nervous I was?”

“Felix, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Does that do it?”

Your adorable companion grimaced at you, unamused. “I just think that I’m more astonished that you actually stayed over. What the hell did he offer to you? Food? Money?”

“Felix!!” You shoved him away from your body in your dramatic shock. “How dare you think that I would stoop that low!”

“...Well...”

“HEY!”

“You know how I feel about Jisung.”

“He’s not Jisung...that’s for sure.”

“You know about them Y/n. You yourself have said that they’re all the same.”

“Cocky, overzealous dickheads who know exactly what to do with their mouths?”

Felix rolled his eyes coupled with an annoyed groan under his breath. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He huffed out his breath into the freezing air. “His presence didn’t nauseate you?”

“I was tired. I honestly don’t remember falling asleep, I only remember waking up before the sun came up and leaving.”

“-Didn’t even say goodbye? See you again? Your phone number?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him again.”

“You don’t?”

“He...looked at me weird.”

Felix let out a flabbergasted pshhhh, which turned into a startled little gasp when his foot caught the ice. As always, you were there to catch his falls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That he looked at me weird! What the hell else is it supposed to mean?”

“Care to expand?”

It had been four days. Four days that had felt much longer than four days. Four days since he had looked at you like you like you were the only person to ever live and breathe. You knew what was in his eyes. It was something you hadn’t truly felt on your body for a long time.

“You’re perfect.” He had said to you, barely knowing more than your name.

In your lusty haze that night, you had said something about being all his.

You barely knew more than his name.

In the days after when you recalled the whole night, searching for answers to why you had said what you had, no explaination pieced together. You hadn’t belonged to anyone in such a long time, and you certainly didn’t belong to him.

He had asked to know you better, but you kissed the words away on his lips before he could say any more.

Your body shivered placing the memory of his fingers tracing up and down your back as you had studied his features, the two of you still connected.

You turned to your friend, “No. Because there isn’t anything more to talk about. He looked at me weird, and I’d rather not see him again.”

“~Oookay then~” Felix nuzzled into your arm. “You working today? Can you make it Chan’s after? We’re gonna play some Smash and there’s a new DLC!”

“-Can’t make it, I’ve got some projects to work on.”

“School or the other kind?”

“Both. My new paper should be coming today.”

“Suit yourself...but we’ll miss youuuu.” The peppy blonde squeezed hard where he held onto you, only to have his feet fall out from under him on the ice.

You quickly softened his fall, holding his body up before his butt would hit the concrete. “I don’t think that I’m the one that you should be worrying about ‘lix.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

From your favorite corner of the library, the sun would shine the brightest at sunset, and luckily, often your scheduling would let you see it. Sometimes you liked to think that you owned it in this little corner on the fourth floor. Better yet, it was situated near the stacks of old newspapers and periodicals so seldom did this corner see anyone else other than you.

The shelf was nestled near to one of the floor-length windows which overlooked the skyline. At this time of year nearest to the aftermath of Christmas, the city lights were still peppered with greens, reds, yellows and blues. You thought to yourself that there was nothing more magnificent than the way the sky would fade from the color of blood oranges to the depths of the ocean with the dawn. You had painted it nearly a hundred times, but each time you were left unsatisfied; it was impossible for your hands to recreate something so unique.

Standing this close to the glass, you could feel the winter cold emanating off of it.

“--Beautiful right?”

His voice had startled you, and for a moment you had thought that you had imagined him.

“‘Kinda thing makes me wanna write.”

He walked up right next to you, hands in his pant’s pockets. A billowy looking black hoodie wrapped around his body and his gaudy silver chain peeked from under his collar. You shouldn’t have expected him to look directly at you. He still wouldn’t give you the pleasure until you demanded it.

Silently the two of you stood watching the sun dissipate beyond the horizon for what seemed like hours. Just as you remembered, his massive aura was nearly suffocating. There was something new however: the scent of rosemary and cedarwood which hung around him.

At long last, he muttered, “You didn’t give me a chance to see you off.”

You swallowed dry. “What are you doing here?”

“You gonna answer my question first?” From the corner of his eyes, his stormy pupils teased you.

“You first.” You straightened yourself best you could.

“My roommate goes here. I was looking around for him. Your turn.”

Changbin took his hands out from his pockets to intentionally twist the silver rings around his fingers.

“I work here.” You answered, opting to finesse your way out of answering his question by answering yours.

“Huh. You’re a librarian?” He scoffed out a single laugh. “Why do I find this slightly ironic...considering where we met.”

“I just move stuff around. Ever heard of a part time job?” You clenched out the words between your teeth.

“Oh believe me, I have. Got a few myself. It’s what I get for choosing music over school.”

“How honorable.”

“I’m a man of honor...as you know.” His eyes finally cast down at you.

Frankly, your memory must’ve been shit, because he looked even more unreal than you remembered.  

“Actually, I’m kind of glad that I ran into you here. What a coincidence, huh?”

“--Sure.” You quipped.

Changbin tilted his head with a growing smirk. “Knees feeling better?”

“They’re fine.”

“Good thing that I was there to help you.”

“You don’t have to pretend like you’re talking about my knees Changbin.”

You turned to walk away, only for him to twist himself around into your path.

“You’ve got me.” He rose his arms up in defeat. “Since I didn’t get your number, I didn’t get the chance to tell you--” Changbin’s body mass leaned ever so slightly closer to you, his dark eyes glossing over with that same confidence that he held so naturally. He breathed into your ear, “I really enjoyed our time together.”

His words send a shiver down your entire body that you prayed he didn’t see. You took a hand flat to his chest to remove him from your space.

“D-don’t you have a roommate that you should be finding?”

“Libraries are big places. Plenty of places for me to get lost...”

He advanced again, cupping a hand to the side of your face and rubbing his thumb into the soft of your cheek.

There he was, looking at you again like that. Had it not been addicting, you would have been terribly annoyed by it now.

Changbin tilted his face nearer, his lips just barely grazing over yours. Something about his scent made you feel like you were enchanted.

“Have you been thinking of me as much as I have of you?”

He sucked in a sharp inhale, then sealed your lips with his. He took both sides of your face in his hands, holding on you with such a dire grip it was as if he felt like you would melt into nothing in his hands. Every run of his lips over yours was different from the last; but the way in which he poured himself into it all was the exact same. He used his full weight to push the two of you into the metal shelf, bracing the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt. Changbin pressed his body into you fully, nearly engulfing you with his broad chest. There was nothing else in his kisses besides pure, unadulterated desire.

Four days since he had kissed you. Four days that had felt much longer than four days.

Hesitantly, your hands twitched at your sides, deciding to hold him back. You hadn’t noticed, but his own hands had fallen from your face to cascade down your arms to wrap them around him himself. Under the fabric of his hoodie, you could feel every single curved muscle. Before you could explain it, your fingers traversed all around the expanse, drawing in all the pieces that your brain hadn’t thought to commit to memory. The second that you did, he smiled into your mouth.

“So you have.” His husky tone spilled into your ear after he gently broke from your lips.

Changbin moved to kiss at your pulse at your neck, leaving you to tremble under his fluttering movements. Your teeth bit into your lip as to not produce a sound; your fear of someone walking round the corner only made you more anxious and thrilled. He pulled the collar of your sweater down to increase the pressure of his mouth, drawing little whimpers from your throat.

“Changbin, what are you--”

Before he could do any more damage, he pulled back, putting your collar right back in place. Between the two of you, your exasperated little gasps filled the air. Slowly, he run his thumb over your slightly swollen lips.

“I meant it, I’d like to get to know you more.” He swept your hair back with a couple fingers.

“I was planning on not seeing you again.” You gathered up your will again.

Changbin tsked, “That wasn’t how you kiss someone you don’t want to see again.”

You pulled his hands from off your face. “I should be going. And you should too.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He scoffed with disbelief.

You really were. Just from kissing him, you had felt how inexplicably wet you had become. Every part of your body ached for just a little more, and you could have it. But you wouldn’t let yourself. He didn’t own you.

“Need me to show you to the stairs?”

“No.” He spat out the word. “Don’t walk away from this.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“I thought that I just made myself pretty damn clear.”

“--As did I.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Changbin strode up to you, the little thin chain on his pants swaying.

“Give me your number.” He said in earnest. For once, you saw his confidence falter.

“I said, I don’t plan on seeing you again.”

“--Then I’ll give you mine. You don’t even have to use it and I can’t reach out to you, how’s that?”

“You’re acting like I’ll want to.”

He exhaled out cooly, “Why the hell else would you kiss me like that?”

Why did you kiss him like that?

You reached out from your back pocket to slide out your phone. “Don’t expect anything. I’ll probably just delete it after long.”

He typed in the numbers, then grinned, announcing, “I doubt that.” Once done, he pulled your collar back up just a little bit higher to fix how it had become askew on your frame.

He sighed with finality, toying with his rings once more. “I think that I’ve been lost in here long enough.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

[01:47]

han jisung: are you doing anything right now?

Your pencil clicked down to your desk with a wooden little thunk. The state of your room was a mess; not like he would have cared. Back at your desk, you glanced down at your unfinished sketch and the scattering of watercolor paintbrushes and paints. During the late hours of the night, your brain would get hazy, and your inhibitions would likely smear like the little pools of blue watercolor accidently spilled on your desktop.

Your tired fingers typed out the word “no.”

Outside of your tiny window dusty with age, you could still see a bit of the twinkling of lights on the cityscape. During the night, they looked like a rainbow of stars reflected upon the night’s ocean.

Your tired fingers deleted the word “no”, then opened a new message. For a moment, you hovered over the keyboard.

[01:49] CB

You really were unbelievable.

me: are you doing anything right now?

[swordsandshields99]

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Friendship, Friendship/Love, Romance, Fluff and Smut @cactuarkitty - thanks! :)  Day 1 - Beach Day (Tried to give it a Citadel DLC vibe) Smut in Italics and sectioned, feel free to skip :)

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

“Yo, Shepard, can we talk to you for a second?” Jack’s voice came across the comms. “Sure thing. Did someone break something?” Shepard tried to tease the biotic. “Not yet, but I can’t promise not to break the cheerleader's arm if she doesn’t stop tapping her fingers on the console in a condescending way.”

Shepard sighed and put down the armor she was cleaning. She made her way to the elevator. “Hey Edi, if anyone is actually about to kill each other, let me know.”

“Of course, Shepard. If I were to inform you each time Jack complained about Operative Lawson, I believe you wouldn’t have any free time.”

“True enough,” Shepard chuckled. The AI was really growing on her.

Shepard exited the lift and turned into the mess hall, and was surprised to see her entire ground crew sitting around the long table. She glanced at Garrus, but he gave nothing away, other than popping a mandible out to the side in a sarcastic half-grin. “What’s all this about?”

“Shepard, it seems the crew have been discussing our current course of action,” Miranda started.

“You mean, our current course of non-action?” Shepard cut in.

“Yes,” Miranda said slowly. “Garrus has been adamant that he has tried to persuade you not to return to the Alliance.”

“He has, and as I told him, I’ve made up my mind. It’s something I have to do.”

“You don’t have to do shit,” Jack countered.

“You could go to the Council, Shepard. You’re a spectre, with spectre authority. They’ll be just as displeased as the Alliance, but they can use that authority to ride out the storm. The Alliance is just going to lock you up. Or worse. You don’t deserve that.” By the time Tali finished, she was wringing her hands and bouncing slightly on her feet.

Shepard looked down, “Listen, I appreciate your concern. But if I don’t go and take the fall, the political fall out will be detrimental to the Alliance. I might be a Spectre, but everyone in the galaxy knows where I came from.”

There was a horribly awkward silence in the room.

“I promise, I won’t let it affect any of you. Your names will all stay out of the report, and I will be adamant about the fact that I went there alone.”

“I could give two shits about what other people think. I still think you should take me up on the piracy thing,” Jack said, crossing her arms and nearly pouting. Shepard nearly laughed at the stance. Jack looked back at her. “It’s a nice ship. Stealth drives and all. Perfect opportunity wasted.”

“She’s not wrong,” Kasumi said, appearing out of thin air next to Jack.

“FUCKING SHIT!” Jack said, “God damn it I hate it when you do that.”

Kasumi blew her a kiss as she disappeared.

“Siha, it appears you are not willing to change your mind,” Thane said as calmly as ever.

“I find it admirable,” Samara nodded her head.

“I think falling on your sword to protect the very people who put you in the situation, the same people who expect you to follow orders blindly and not take responsibility for their own actions, isn’t exactly admirable,” Garrus said darkly, still leaning back in his chair.

Shepard knew he was angry. She didn’t blame him. But she kept a cool mask of command on her face. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“Then we would ask for a few days dry-docked. For repairs,” Miranda said slowly.

“Repairs? I thought we were nearly done with repairs. You all have been working around the clock on the Normandy.”

“Yes, well, there’s a few things we could take a look at on the outer hull. It’d be safer on the ground. We thought perhaps, since we’re close, we could stop here.” Miranda pulled out a map and pointed to a spot on the planet below. “We’ve actually been planning this since we left the Bahak System.”

Shepard blew out a small stream of air.

“The crew needs a break, Shep,” Garrus said.

“And time to say goodbye,” Tali added.

“Fine,” Shepard said. “You have anything to add Joker?”

“Not since you ever so reasonably agreed, no. Setting a landing trajectory now. Ready EDI?”

“Ready, Jeff.”

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

Shepard was sitting at her desk, finishing the last of the reports she had. She’d always hated filling out reports. Now though, she thought she might end up missing even this. She wasn’t sure what the Alliance had planned for her. A trial? Jail time? A harsher sentence? She didn’t think they’d hand her over to the Batarians, but the thought was still there in the back of her mind. When she had mentioned it to Garrus, he said he’d be there breaking her out before she even reached a Batarian system. And she hadn’t argued.

Just as she thought of him, he walked through her cabin doors. “Done with those reports yet?” he drawled.

“This is the last one,” she said as she signed off and sent it. “Done.” She blew out a breath and stretched her arms above her head. She looked over at Garrus, and saw he was carrying a duffle bag, and was dressed in shorts and a Turian style t-shirt. She couldn’t help but chuckle, “I know you’re not on duty, but that’s a little informal. Aren’t you freezing?”

“I am freezing my ass off Shep, but I won’t be for long. Let’s go.”

“Onto the surface?”

“Yeah, where else? I’m not letting you spend your last shore leave in this cabin.”

“Hmmm,” she said suspiciously.

“Here,” he said as he threw the duffle at her. “Put these on.”

Shepard opened the bag and rose her eyebrows at him, “I can’t tell if this is practical, or if you just want me in a bikini.”

Garrus laughed, throwing his head forward and shaking it slightly. “Maybe it’s both?” He took out the sunscreen from her bag. “And don’t forget this.”

“Do you need some too?” she asked as she started spraying it on.

He shook his head. “The sun and radiation would have to be a hell of a lot stronger for me to need something like that. Palaven’s sun throws a lot more than this one.”

She nodded, “All right, all right Mr. Tough Guy, I got it.” She stripped off her civvies and threw on the bikini and sun dress. She put her hair in a braid that came over her shoulder. “All right, let’s do this.” She wouldn’t have planned a vacation. It wouldn’t have felt right. But her crew planning it, or needing it? That was a different story. And she was grateful.

They walked throughout the empty ship towards the cargo bay doors. “Where is everybody?” she asked.

“Already down there,” he said. “I think they were excited.”

Shepard stepped off the ship and was shocked. It was stunningly beautiful. It reminded her of when her parents had taken her to Jamaica once when she was young. “Wow,” she said softly. There was nothing within many kilometers of them. Not a soul in sight other than their ship and crew. “A private beach?”

Kasumi walked up to her with a small cooler, “Take your pick, Shep,” she said with a smile. There were beer and wine coolers. Shepard took one and thanked Kasumi. “The Dextro beers are all over by Tali,” Kasumi said before she skipped away.

"She’s even in a cloak on beach day,” Garrus rumbled, wiggling his brow plates at her.

Shepard laughed and walked towards Tali, “Go get a beer, big guy.”

“SHEEPPHHEEERRDD,” a loud voice boomed from a ways down the beach. Shepard looked down and saw Grunt splashing through the water with a small pistol, shooting at fish. “This is fun, heheh,” he said to himself as he picked up a fish he had somehow managed to shoot.

“Aww,” Zaeed said sarcastically before rolling his eyes. The man was sitting on a lounging chair with 5 beer cans on the sand around him. He laid back, closing his eyes before saying, “Good day Shepard. Good day.”

Joker was sitting next to the man with his eyes shut as well. “If I get a sunburn, I’m blaming you.”

Shepard threw her sunscreen at him. “If you get sunburned, you’ll worry EDI.”

“Har-har,” he said grumpily as he started spraying the sunscreen.

Thane was down the beach further, on the opposite end of Grunt Shepard noticed, showing Samara something that resembled Tai Chi. Actually, Shepard was pretty sure it was Tai Chi. She could still remember all the moves from when she took classes aboard her mother’s starship as a kid. She joined them silently, and allowed herself to meditate peacefully.

Once she’d had enough, she stopped, unsure of how much time had passed. Samara and Thane gave her small smiles as she walked away. She found Garrus was shooting blanks with a sniper rifle into the trees. Suddenly, Shepard saw the shimmer of failed shields and Kasumi’s cloak came down. “Damn!” the thief swore. “How in the hell did you know where I was that time?”

Garrus shrugged, “A gentlemen never tells.”

Tali swooped in from behind and jumped up to grab at his visor. “I’ll give you two guesses,” she said as she inspected it.  

“Hey!” Garrus said, in a more shocked tone than Shepard would have expected. “Give that back,” he said as he pushed down on the Quarians helmet, reaching up so the visor was far out of her reach.

“Alright Garrus, no visor,” Kasumi said as she disappeared.

Garrus held the visor in one hand and aimed with the other. It took 10 seconds before he placed his next shot, and Kasumi’s shields went down again. Kasumi grumbled and switched on her cloak again.

Garrus’ eyes went wide and he hunched over his weapon slightly. Shepard heard him make a small noise of satisfaction before pulling the trigger.

“Oh, you’re good, Archangel,” Kasumi purred as she sauntered up to him. “I can see why you’re into him, Shep,” Kasumi called over to her.

Shepard just waved back with a grin and kept walking down the beach. There was a slight bend and suddenly she could see Mordin by the water, bent over looking at something. As she approached, she realized he was poking around some kind of sea creature with a stick. She stood next to him quietly as he observed it. “At first, wasn’t looking forward to ‘beach day’,” he said with air quotes. “Looked forward to comradery of course, but can get that on ship, or in lab. Surprising results. Thoroughly enjoying discovering new marine wildlife.” She saw his eyes flick back towards the sand. “Perhaps will try hand at fossils and shells next.”

Shepard smiled. As Mordin continued searching the shallow waters, Shepard started searching for shells on the beach. When she found what she thought must be the most beautiful one on the beach, she walked back over to him and handed it out to him.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, turning towards her and taking the shell. “How interesting! Gastropoda, free of inhabitants. Periostracum still slightly spongy, not old. Whorl, apex, aperture all typical. Extremely symmetrical. Red and orange in color, unsure of internal structuring.”

Shepard waited patiently as he continued his analysis until he stopped suddenly. He looked down at her and took a deep breath. “Beautiful. Thank you, Shepard.” He put the shell in one of his lab coat pockets.

She rose a brow, “That’s rather sentimental for you, isn’t it doctor?”

He shook his head, “Sometimes, sentimentality - appropriate. No point to life without the enjoyment of it.”

Shepard smiled at him. “Some friends make that exceedingly easy to do so.”

Mordin seemed genuinely taken aback, but nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, they do.”

Legion walked up behind them, “Shepard Commander, are you searching for marine wildlife? This unit believes it can be of assistance.”

“Doctor?” Shepard asked.

“Hmmm, could prove useful in cataloging findings. Legion, please assist in cataloging findings of new marine biology.”

“Nice, thanks Legion,” Shepard said with a smile.

The Geth’s brow plates rose and fell quickly, “This unit enjoys being useful.”

Shepard rose her brows at Mordin. Before their adventures, she doubted Legion would have used the word “enjoys” at all. “I’m glad,” she said back before turning around.

She let them continue their search in the waters as she made her way back to the group. She came around the bend, and saw Jack, Jacob, and Miranda teaching Garrus and Tali how to play Volleyball. “Shepard, we need another player!” Jacob yelled out.

“I’m in,” she said as she ditched the sun dress and dug her toes into the sand to run towards them. “I grew up on a ship, but I managed to learn how to play. They know the rules?” she asked, pointing towards Garrus and Tali.

“I think we’ve got it,” Tali said.

They played for nearly an hour before they tired themselves out. “Forgot you had about a ½ a meter in height on us Vakarian,” Jacob grumbled as he and Miranda walked off towards the drinks.

Garrus shrugged with a grin, “What can I say.”

“Want to cool off in the water?” Shepard asked.

Garrus looked out at the ocean apprehensively, “Uhh… yeaaah, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Look, we don’t have to go in too deep. Mordin found a nice quiet spot around the bend a ways, there are hardly any waves at all. Just go in to your waist and get cooled off with me.”

Garrus sighed heavily. “Fine.”

They walked till they were just past Mordin and Legion. “Alright if we swim here?” She asked him.

Mordin came up from his studies. “Of course, Shepard.” Then he rose his brow at Garrus. “Aware of Turian aversion to submersion in waters. Interesting. Found a cove 20 meters that way. Completely shallow and secluded from waves and wildlife. Should be more comfortable.”

Garrus looked at Shepard and she could tell he was about to say no to the whole thing. “Alright, thanks Mordin, c’mon scaredy cat. Let’s go to the cove.”

“Shepard, I have no idea what a scaredy cat is. Is it some kind of pet?”

She laughed and marched forwards.

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

The cove was beautiful. There were trees above keeping it mostly in the shade, and the water was calm and shallow. Shepard waded in and it only went up to her chest. “C’mon Garrus, look, it’s not deep. It won’t go up to your cowl, for sure.” He looked at her with a look that said he’d rather jump in a varren pit. “I’ll make it worth your while?”

He rose a brow plate, and dipped his feet in. The water was warm at least, so he continued until he stood next to Shepard. She took a step into him so that they were touching and wrapped her arms around him. “Alright, it’s not so bad,” he said reluctantly.

She gazed at him with a look that could melt metal, and took a deep breath in, before slowly sinking below the water. “Shepard,” he said nervously, although he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Shepard held onto his hips to stay below the water with one hand, and started moving his shorts aside with the other. Garrus’ breath hitched. He couldn’t help the rush that went straight to his groin, and he also couldn’t help but still feel nervous in the water. Shepard pushed him back and he took a few steps backwards until his legs hit something when they were nearing the edge. A rock. She pushed him again and he stumbled awkwardly, sitting on the rock. She came up for air and kissed his mandible, sucking on the tips. Garrus groaned, digging his talons into her waist. She submerged again, and he held his breath, partially out of anticipation of what she might do next and partially out of nerves for her being under the water. He knew humans were better with that, but it was ingrained.

He suddenly felt a small tongue lick up the seams of his pelvic plates and he groaned again, digging his talons through her hair. He felt small fingers dig between the plates in his waist. She came up for air again, straddling his lap to kiss him. She ground her hips against his. She was weightless, floating above him, ghosting over his plates, until she pushed herself down into him and began grinding harder into him. “Shepard,” he growled as he nipped at her neck. She suddenly went back under water and nipped at his pubic plate quickly, and licked all the way up and down his seam slowly. He felt his seam part as he groaned loudly, bucking his hips into her as his erection began to grow, emerging from his seam. He felt her lick at it until it came all the way through, and she sucked his cock into her mouth as it grew.

“Fuck,” he said as he threw his head back and bucked his hips. She sucked hard, head bobbing up and down twice before she had to come up for air. She was panting hard and she straddled his lap again, slowly lowering herself onto him, until  his tip was hilted within her.

Shepard moaned loudly and rocked back and forth slightly with her hips. He felt her muscles contract around him a few times and he groaned. Shepard grinned at him before lifting up and moving back down. He could tell it was harder for her in the water, and he placed his hands on her hips and began lifting her up, and slamming her down onto him. It didn’t take long before they were both panting, and it just wasn’t enough. He put her legs around his waist and stood, walking to the back of the cove, he pressed her back against the stony wall and pushed himself into her with a grunt. Shepard squeezed her legs around his waist, one arm holding on around his back, the other wrapped around his neck with her hand massaging under his fringe.

She was so tight, and he hadn’t yet been fully inside her. He took his finger and massaged the nub he knew drove her wild. Shepard began moaning loudly. “God, yes Garrus, fuck,” she groaned. Slowly, with each thrust he pushed further and further inside of her until even the bulge of his base slipped inside of her with a pop. Shepard screamed at that and held on tighter. “Don’t stop,” she screamed, and he didn’t, couldn’t really. He felt her come hard, her walls squeezing him. “Garrus,” she panted. Garrus couldn’t speak, he was too far gone. He merely groaned against her neck as he continued pounding into her, faster and harder.

“Come inside me, Garrus,” she moaned, and he lost control. He came hard with a roar, continuing to pump inside her in erratic thrusts. His body completely enveloped hers against the stone. She was so small, wrapped up in his arms, and he curled around her, willing himself to stay standing. He felt her kiss his mandible lightly. “God, you’re sexy.”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead, “So are you.”

Shepard slipped down and swam in the water to cool off before they headed back. Garrus sat back on the rock and watched, enjoying the view and surprisingly, the cool water around his waist.

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

Shepard and Garrus walked back along the beach, hands brushing often. The sun was setting, and it was creating a beautiful glow around them. The whole team was sitting, watching the sunset when the pair joined them.

The group was quiet, reflective. Even Grunt, to Shepard’s surprise. He was growing up, after all. Shepard leaned against Garrus’ shoulder, and they sat there until the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Alright you bunch of pussys,” Zaeed said, elegantly as ever. “Round two.” He started throwing beer bottles at everyone.

“That’s more like it,” Jack huffed.

“Bonfire’s made!” Jacob said as he got the largest bonfire Shepard had ever seen lit using driftwood from the beach.

The team drank under the numerous stars. There were drinking games and songs, friendly wagers and shoot-the-bottle competitions. It was 3 in the morning before they packed up and headed inside. Shepard held Garrus’ hand to pull him back behind the crew and gave him one last kiss under the stars.

[butwhatifidothis]

Do you personally believe that the war was started with good intentions? (I'm asking this to several blogs and wish to see opinions)

Ahhh, now that's a toughie.

It depends heavily on how sincere you believe Edelgard is with what she says she wants to do. If you genuinely believe that Edelgard genuinely believed war was the best - and only - way to achieve a better quality of life for those who are overlooked, weak, and/or born on the lower rung (among the myriad of other descriptors for those under privileged), then, well, yes, the war in your view would have been started with good intentions.

Me personally though? I just don't think so, really. imo there's just too many things about the war, what it ultimately resulted in, and the things brought up by CF's endings that are never said to be resolved - with Byleth, who is supposed to bring out the best of the routes' potential outcomes, being present at that - for me to honestly believe it was started with good intentions.

Edelgard states that the Kingdom and Alliance ought to be reunited back under Adrestia despite them being two independent nations with long-standing cultures separate from Adrestia (which are forgotten after the war according to CF's ending narration),

she mentions nothing of the starvation of Adrestia's citizens due to her war (you have to recruit and then talk to Ashe to find this out) (this would be fine - well, not really fine, but at least more acceptable - if, again, she hadn't been the one causing this starvation through her war),

she puts the people in direct danger in three out of four routes,

she continues her war despite initiating it with the stated goal of only taking down the Church but continuing it after she's disbanded the Church,

she lies about the Church dropping a bomb on Arianrhod to her allies in order to hide TWS' actions from them - people who pose a far more direct and larger threat to the people of Fodlan than the Church ever has, and whom she knows have already caused immense harm to her citizens in particular (Remire)

FEH mentions her not having any solid political reforms even after the war is finished which shows how little thought she put into her plans (not having an idea of what to do would be fine/more acceptable, if she hadn't started war certain that her way was the best for Fodlan. She can't say that and then also not be ready to implement some form of government without at best being wholly irresponsible),

the entire basis of the little political structure she outwardly describes would only further help the strong and do nothing for the weak (meritocracy will only elevate those with access to the means of elevation and even then is based entirely on what Edelgard views as valuable),

the people having to be spied on by Hubert constantly due to the amount of rebellions and risings that happen throughout her reign (Dorothea's paired ending with Hubert),

And with that last point mentioning endings, a large amount of CF's endings showcase that Fodlan harbors many of the traits Edelgard supposedly instigated the war for:

undue inheritance granted by birth (Sylvain and Lorenz each have an ending showcasing this to be true),

nobles holding ownership of land,

the loss of choice regarding political standing (Bernadetta being forced to take on House Varley's head position in at least two endings),

one person holding amalgamated power that wasn't rightfully theirs to begin with and that they have by forcefully taking power from others (Leicester and Faerghus being conquered, nobles being stripped of long-held power immediately after her coronation),

censorship of history being present after the war (Dorothea's paired ending with Edelgard, as well as propaganda being deployed even within the ENG ver. of the game, shown by Hubert outright saying that Edelgard hium and Byleth should "control the flow of [this] information")

With all this in mind, I can't honestly say I believe Edelgard had good intentions when starting the war. Every metric that would lean to that idea - keeping the people safe, wanting to elevate the less privileged, wanting to instate legislations that she has put ample thought in that she believes will help the people eventually, throwing away corrupt practices she perceived were being conducted by those she strove to overthrow - all don't happen. Even DLC bringing in Constance and giving Edelgard some sort of idea of what to do in one area of politics isn't stated to have done anything in the ending the support is attached to.

The best I can say for Edelgard's intentions is that she wants for humans to rely on their own strength to become strong, but even that idea is tainted by her continuation of that idea being to strip away support pillars many people rely on to get through life because they are based on a divine presence, not a human one. It means that Nabateans are not allowed to be present in Fodlan - or at the absolute minimum, allowed to hold any form of power - in her mind, because they "lack humanity." It means that the religious are weak-willed and can't survive on their own. It means that they are not allowed in her Empire, as shown by all four routes expelling them in some way (even CF, when she says before she initiates the war that Rhea as well as the servants of the Goddess must be killed in walking her path).

Like... to expand on one of the examples, Dimitri and Claude do not start the war, they have no idea that the implementation of political reforms must be made in the aftermath of war must be made, and yet their solo endings, while still vague on the exact details, give us an idea of how they're going about actually implementing the changes they want to do, with these changes being said to have a visible, positive impact on the people.

Dimitri installs a participatory government that allows for the common people to have a say in politics in order to have their voices and concerns heard directly from them as well as improving foreign relations in general, and Claude installs new trade routes between Fodlan and Almyra and sends forth Almyran reinforcements to assist in Fodlan's skirmishes with Imperial loyalists in order to foster better relations between the two nations. They are very simple explanations for how they're ruling and how they're accomplishing their goals, but they're a starting point. We have some clue as to how they get from Point A to Point B, and we see that they have a very clear, very directly positive result.

Edelgard? The one who started the war? Who started it with the presumption that she knew how best to rule it? Who knew that she needed to rule and implement changes in the aftermath of war ahead of time? She simply "reformed the class system." No how's, not even a simple one, she simply - supposedly - does it. And again, FEH (as well as some supports, like Ferdinand's) shows that she hasn't thought this through, that that part of ruling wasn't a priority for her when she started the war.

To me personally, that's not a sign of someone with good intentions. It's another sign that she mostly started the war in order to get back what she thought was rightfully hers, which was rulership of Fodlan under Adrestia's banner, with little care as to the outcome of her actions in getting that apparent birthright. None of the above results of her actions contradict this idea whatsoever, and many in fact bolster it (only she may decide who is worthy of promotion, only she may decide what the people are allowed to know of history, only under her watch may religion be allowed).

Now, does the setup of her having this intention make sense? Definitely, yeah. Being told by the one family member you have left of this supposed grand birthright that belongs to you and your country and how this evil race of godly beings is stealing it away from you and you must fight to get it back - after you've experienced the horrific lost of every single other family member you know and love to torture you were forced to witness and after you yourself were horrifically tortured and after you've come to the realization during the torture that the Goddess everyone loves and worships didn't help you - and with the torture happening to you in the first place (again, according to your one family member) because other people that aren't you and your family wanted power that rightfully belonged to you and your family....... uh, yeah, that can make more than a few people go a little extreme in their grabs for power. In that regard Edelgard is extremely sympathetic and understandable... just not good.

Again though, this is me personally! I'm not gonna sit here and say that seeing her intentions as good is an invalid view of Edelgard or anything. Hope I answered your question!

[batgurl1989]

A Wolf In Toussaint Chapter One

Summary: You(nin) wakes up, finding that things at the Vegelbud wedding didn’t go according to plan, but questions quickly rise about what exactly happened.

Word Count: 2558

Warnings: Spoilers for Witcher 3 DLC

A/N: Sorry this is a little longer than normal. It hasn’t been beta-ed, so all the mistakes are my own. This is the new series in the Witcher series I am writing. It follows We Meet Again and Running With The Wolf. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know :)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Taglist: @rmtndew​ @henrynerdfan​ @cynic-spirit​ @princesssterek​ @djinny-djin-djin​ @seanh-boredom​

Chapter One

Pain. That’s the first thing you noticed when you started to come to. Pain in your wrists that were lashed together behind your back by rope that was much too tight. Pain throbbing in your head where the hilt of the dagger had hit you, knocking you out when you put up too much of a fight. The last thing you remember was trying to call on your magic to get away from the man with the dagger pressed to your throat as Geralt came back around the corner of the hedge, alerted by your struggles.

That’s when your captor had opened a portal. You remember feeling the power vacuum form behind you as it yawned wide open. Geralt didn’t reach you in time as the man with his arms around you stepped through, closing the portal quickly behind him. A deepening fury flared through Geralt’s golden eyes as the last shred of portal closed.

Slitting your eyes open, you didn’t dare lift your head in case you weren’t alone. Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. The pounding headache was certainly making any movement harder. The room was dimly lit, and you realized that the rocking you felt wasn’t because of the swimming fog in your head. You were on a boat. Now that you knew, the creaking and groaning of the timber made more sense. A lamp swung on a post nearby, causing the fire inside to flicker intensely which didn’t work well with your headache.

The good news was you were alone. The bad news was that you seemed to be in the brig, tied to a post in the middle of the cell. The stench wafting from the corner caused your stomach to churn unfavourably, and you fought hard to keep the contents down. Breathing through your mouth, you lifted your head to look around as best you could from your vantage point.

“Ah, you awaken.” A voice to your left drew your attention. Fighting off another wave of nausea at the pain in your head, you turned to investigate the darkened cell next to yours. An Ofieri slave sat, tied similarly to you to the post in the middle of the cell, but unlike you, he seemed to be fairing better. “I was wondering how long it would be.”

“How long have I been out?” You didn’t want to think about how many days had passed. Based on how cramped your muscles felt, and how raw your wrists seemed to be, it had been at least a couple of days. You ached to rub your head, wanting to ease at least some of the pain bouncing around in your skull.

“It has been 5 days. I didn’t think you would ever wake up.” The man informed you, the last part of what he said concerning you the most. He must have seen the question form on your face, because he continued. “You were bleeding a lot from your head. Eventually the guard brought you the ship’s healer. It seems that they want to keep you alive.”

“Though not comfortable.” You quip, testing your bonds, wincing at the pain that shoots up your arms from your open wounds from the ropes.

“Where would the fun be in that?” The man laughed. You squinted into the darkness, trying to see him better. The lamp light didn’t seem to touch his cell as much as yours, and you could only see a vague outline of his face. If it wasn’t for his legs sticking out into the pool of light, you would have been convinced that you were talking to yourself.

“Why are they keeping you here?” You ask, groaning as you shift, stretching your stiff legs out to sit in a similar fashion to your new companion. You were careful not to move your arms too much, not wanting to cause further damage to your wrists.

“I stole from the King.” Your ears perked up at the mention of a king. He didn’t specify which one, but not many used that title lightly. And if he was Ofieri, perhaps it was a hint at what was in store for you.

“Which king would that be?” You hesitated before asking, not wanting to seem too eager. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t fight off the suspicion that this was a trap to get more information out of you.

“The King of Beggars.” The man offered as though it was obvious.

It was as though all the air was sucked from your lungs. A man you had trusted on more than a few occasions had effectively kidnapped you after screwing over a mission he had set you and Geralt on the path to. Something wasn’t adding up for you, but your head was still foggy with pain, and you felt like you couldn’t see all the pieces laid out in front of you. There was some else at work here, but it lay just outside of what you could see.

“Do you happen to know where we are heading?” Still trying to piece together what you knew already with all sorts of possibilities, you decided it was best to gather as much information as you could from someone who might be willing to provide answers. It was unlikely you would have another opportunity like this one.

“Until you were brought in, I assumed I was being taken back to Ofir to face the crimes I committed there.” The man shrugged as best he could. “Now it is anyone’s guess.”

Ofir. That was beyond the sea. Without the help from a Sorceress, Geralt would never find you. Unless he was willing to take down one of the crime bosses of Novigrad to get answers. And that was if that was where you were even heading. As your fellow captive pointed out, neither of you could really know where you were heading. You needed to convince a guard to give you the answers, but it wasn’t like you could enchant him to do it.

The fog in your head suddenly cleared. Magic. The fools had tied you up with rope. There wasn’t a single piece of Dimeritium on you. Nothing was binding your magic. They didn’t know who or what you were. They simply thought you were important to the Witcher and to the King of Beggars, but the latter hadn’t offered up any information about you to your captors before they got their hands on you. You held in the laughter that threatened to bubble up as relief flooded you.

“What did you steal?” You weren’t about to let a known criminal walk free. Not unless the punishment outweighed the crime. “What crimes are you facing back in Ofir?”

“Horse theft.” The man stated simply. You had to assume that he had committed that crime in both Velen and in Ofir. In Ofir, where they valued horses above most else, that was a serious crime. The punishment was death. In Velen, they punished it with death, but horses were viewed more as property than as a way of life. Velen had some harsh laws involving property.

“I’m going to get us out of here, but I suggest you find somewhere other than Novigrad and Velen to make a home for yourself. The King won’t let you live if he sees you again.” You smiled at him, already drawing on the wealth of power from the water surrounding the ship you were housed in. The look of awe that spread across the man’s face was worth the nosebleed this was probably going to cost you. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise where we will land, but it will be on land and out of captivity.”

Your portalling wasn’t as precise as Yennefer’s, and you were vastly out of practice. Just yet another thing that you needed to work on, stretch that metaphorical muscle. First things first though, you had to make your bonds disappear. Not the easiest task as there was always the risk of burning the person. At this point, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t feel it if you burned yourself, but you didn’t want to burn your companion.

“This may sting.” You offered a mild warning as you pulled the magic together to create your spell. You winced as your hands relaxed apart, the tension leaving your shoulders. You were pleased to see the man in the cell next to you not show any pain as the spell displaced the ropes binding his hands.

You jumped to your feet, adrenaline taking over as you felt the vacuum of a portal you weren’t creating. You watched warily as a hole was ripped, spinning, in the space in front of your cell. Then you felt it. The signature of the Sorceress creating the portal. Every spell left a signature, but not all signatures could be traced. Only the strongest among the Lodge could do that. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t recognize it.

You immediately set to work on melting down the hinges of your cell door. It would be one last thing you needed to worry about once the portal was fully formed. There was no way the crew on the ship didn’t feel the power amassing below deck in the brig. You split your power between your door and your neighbour’s, knowing that as soon as the iron doors fell, the crew would definitely know something was going on with the prisoners.

“Younin!” Geralt rushed through the portal just as the doors fell. He pulled you to him in a tight hug, relief flooding both of you now that you were in each other’s arms again.

“We have to move. Now.” Your voice dripped with urgency as you pulled out of the all too brief hug, wishing you could do more than that. There was no time though.

“Well, if you hadn’t created such a cacophony of noise, we could have just slipped you back out.” The voice of the signature floated through the portal. You stiffened, hoping you could have avoided this encounter a little longer.

“Thank you, Yenn.” Your voice was tight as you turn to your fellow Sorceress. A slither of jealousy snaked around your spine, settling in your gut. You hated that Geralt had to turn to his old lover, even though you knew she was basically the only one who could do what he needed.

Reaching for your cell mate, you pulled him through the portal as you heard shouting and boots on the stairs leading into the brig. Geralt drew his sword but followed behind you through the portal. Yennefer quickly slammed the portal shut before anyone could follow you. As much as you didn’t like it, you knew you could never have pulled off the portal as smoothly as Yennefer did.

The danger had passed for now. There was still the issue of the King of Beggars botching the mission on purpose, but you were safe. That seemed to be all that mattered to the otherwise stoic Witcher. Geralt pulled you in for a fierce kiss, not caring about the company you were in. You clung to his armour, wishing it wasn’t in your way. After the close call you just had, you needed to feel alive, and the only way that was going to happen was if you were alone and there was nothing between you. You needed to feel his body stretched out above yours, skin to skin.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but where are we?” The Ofieri interjected. Pulling away from Geralt, making sure to check your anger at having been interrupted, you turned to look at your surroundings.

“Good question. Yennefer?” You frowned when you didn’t recognize the room you were in. A quick glance out the window didn’t offer you an answer either. Turning to the other Sorceress, you caught the look of displeasure that flitted across her face at realizing how deeply Geralt felt for you.

“Geralt wanted me to bring you to his house in Toussaint in case you were injured.” Yennefer offered, her face becoming a perfected mask of indifference. She examined her nails as though trying to prove how little interest she had in your feelings for the Witcher who once warmed her bed.

“You have a house in Toussaint?” You ignored Yenn’s antics, looking up at Geralt. The land filled with Knights-errant seemed like the last place Geralt would want to settle down.

“It was a reward for helping the Duchess. And with Kaer Morhen in ruin, it seemed as good as any place to set some roots.” Geralt guided you closer to the window with a hand on your lower back. You smiled up at him, leaning into his hold as you took in the sun dappled scene beyond the glass.  

“Come, Ofieri, I think there is food in the kitchen for us.” Yennefer couldn’t stomach anymore of seeing you two together and fled the room. The man who you realized you still didn’t know his name followed quickly after her, leaving you and the Witcher alone.

“How are you really?” Geralt turned you with his hands on your shoulders. His gold eyes flicked over your body, assessing all your injuries.

He guided you to the bed, squatting in front of you when you sat down. He carefully lifted your hands up when he noticed how bad your wrists were. At the slight movement, however, the wounds opened again and began bleeding freely. You winced as sharp pain travelled up your arms again. Geralt caught the look on your face, cupping your cheek as he looked deep into your eyes. He didn’t have to say anything, you could see the concern and worry darkening his hypnotic cat eyes. His hand travelled to the back of your head, wanting to draw you to him for a kiss, but he felt the congealed blood in your hair.

“How is your head?” He asked quietly, sure your headache was pounding especially after using magic to free yourself. As uncomfortable as Yennefer’s presence was making you, you had to admit you didn’t think you could have pulled off the portal in your condition.

“It hurts.” You admitted unnecessarily. You knew he understood what a head injury felt like. One of the perks of his job. You leaned into his hand when he cupped your cheek again. “For now, I just think I need rest. I can work on healing later.”

Geralt nodded, helping you get into the decadently decorated bed. Even through your pain, you had to almost laugh at how out of place this bed seemed in Geralt’s life. The rich colours and immense comfort were a far cry from the places the Path normally took him. As your head hit the down filled pillow, all the questions you had been asking yourself came flooding back to you.

“Sleep.” Geralt gently said, his hand making the motion you had come to recognize as the Axii sign. Your questions were probably written all over your face, and he was compelling you to sleep instead of laying awake as your mind ran wild.

Your eyes slid closed shortly after. The last thing you remember is the feeling of Geralt’s warm callused hand on your forehead, followed by the soft press of his lips. And then sleep overtook you.

[xfandomwritingsx]

Being Human - James Vega/F!Shepard

Description: James and Shepard finally stop dancing around each other. AKA; a rewrite of the Citadel DLC.

Warnings/Labels: None really. Some super minor sexual stuff.

Approx. Word Count: 4,500

A/N: Look... this is at best a rough draft that I typed up and didn’t edit, but I will forever be bitter about how they made the Citadel play out with these two. And while I know it won't happen, I really wish they'd fix it in the remaster. I mean if you're going to remaster the games, that sounds like a damn good time to fix anything inappropriate and rape-y right?! I would love to do a whole slow burn of Shepard and Vega spanning from Earth to the end of the game, but if you know me, you know I'm SLOW AS MOLASSES to update and I'm not lying when I say it would take me years to finish. So instead... have a poorly written snippet. I tried to keep it as much in “canon character” as I could. 

Shepard stands on the balcony of her new apartment, mind gently jogging around the events of the last few days which bleeds into the events of the last few years. Resting her arms on the metal railing, she drops her head and sighs, trying to pull herself from the black hole that is her memory anymore. She wants to let it all go, just for a night.

“Hey, Lola,” James calls, pulling her back to the present. She looks up briefly wondering how long he’d been there before she sees the door closing behind him. How had she not heard it? “Nice place,” he comments, looking around the open layout. “Might not look so nice after that party you were talking about.” He walks further in, headed for the stairs to join her on the balcony.

“You wouldn’t trash my new apartment, would you James?” she jokes lightly, pushing herself upright off the railing.

“Me?” He spins a little, keeping his eyes on her as he continued to travel backwards to the stairs. “Nooo. Never,” he draws it out, the sarcasm a little thick. Shepard rolls her eyes at him, but he sees the little smile at the corner of her lips too.

James has always had that effect on her. No matter what dumb thing came out of his mouth, he managed to make her smile. It was something she’d craved over the last few months more than ever. While everyone else gave her pep talks that only managed to remind her how much the galaxy rested on her shoulders, James was more likely to tell her that her pants hugged her curves just right. He let her forget about being Commander Shepard even if for just a few moments.

He whistles as he approaches her side, looking out over the balcony with her.

“Nice view. But this place?” He shakes his head just slightly. “It’s just so... not what I’m used to.” He gives a small shrug, still looking out over the scenery and the lights outside the large windows.

“Which is?” Shepard prods. They don't talk about their pasts very often. Everyone already knew hers and James was never extremely open about his own. He puts his hands on the railing and leans into his arms a little.

“I grew up on the beach in the Pacific,” he shares. “So, you know; water, sand, real air.” She thinks there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“You miss it?” He doesn’t look at her this time and instead she watches as he loosens his grip on the rail a little bit and sighs.

“Yeah. And the people.” She catches the undertone, the longing that implies he’s thinking of someone specific when he says it.

“So, what’s her name?” she asks. She means it to be teasing, but there’s an unexpected pang in her gut that feels all too much like jealousy for her liking and it ruins the lighthearted joke in her voice. She shifts her weight a little and slips a hand into the pocket of her pants.

“No! No.” he clarifies through a bark of a laugh, easing her tension a little. “I stopped... fraternizing when I joined the military. The two don’t seem to go well together.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from being a shameless flirt.” It had taken a short amount of time after they’d first met on Earth for him to relax around her and once he did, the comments, the winks, the innuendos and double entendres never ceased. The only thing he never seemed to do, was be physical with his flirting. He’d never so much as run a hand down her arm or let his hands linger when they sparred. Though Shepard had found herself wishing he would recently.

“Yeah, well... that’s just my way. I don’t mean anything by it.” There’s something in the way that he still won’t look at her that makes her think maybe that’s not all true.

“Too bad.” She drops her tone a little and takes a step towards him. “I wasn’t complaining.” He cracks a smile and lets out another short laugh.

“Who’s the shameless flirt now?” He gives her a single glance and then looks back down to his hands on the railing.

“So you can give it, but you can’t take it?” The flirting had never been completely one sided, but it certainly came heavier from him and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get a little flustered when she returned it.

“No, it’s just...” He releases the railing and pushes away, adding a little distance between the two. “You’re my commander, por dios. I can never tell if you’re yanking my chain.” He looks at her, really looks at her this time and the mood shifts. The air gets thicker, heavier and it feels like an opportunity, one she doesn’t want to slip away again.

“And what if I’m not?” she asks, voice dipping down again. “Not just yanking your chain?” James swallows thickly and there’s a mumble of a noise from his lips, but he doesn’t give a response. Instead, she’s pleased to watch as his eyes travel down from her eyes to her lips, down her neck and through the valley between her breasts that he can see all too well in her black tank top. “Are you going to tell me you’ve never thought about it?”

“Uhhh… I mean you’re one hell of a woman and I’m still just flesh and blood, if you know what I mean.” She can see a bit of redness creep up his neck and Shepard wonders if the implication is just that his body reacts to her or if he’s actually done something about it when his body reacts.

“So am I, James. And you are one hell of a man yourself.” She slips in front of him, putting herself between himself and the railing, all but begging him to pin her there. He makes no move to do so however. Instead, his eyes drop down to their feet and Shepard feels like she’s sinking. “But you’re not interested.” She leans back into the railing, wanting to retreat. James snaps his eyes back to hers and his mouth flops for a few moments as if he’s going to say something, but after a minute of silence, Shepard gives up. She slinks away off to the side and as far away as she can get without feeling too awkward. “Well, now that you’ve shot me down, was there anything else you came here to talk about?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” he stutters, shaking his head. She feels a little bad to have put him on the spot, but she’s just as embarrassed as he is. “I wanted to show you something.”

He turns away from her and pulls his shirt over his head. It takes Shepard longer than she should admit to notice he’s not just showing off the well-toned muscles in his back and shoulders, but trying to show her the new and finished N7 tattoo. He looks at her over his shoulder.

“What do you think?”

“Looks good,” she says honestly. “You’ve earned it.” She sees him smile a little at her approval. She crosses her arms over her chest and tries to lighten her tone. “Though I think it’s a little mean to flaunt yourself to the woman you just turned down.” He chuckles, taking her teasing easily.

“Here I was thought I was being nice giving you at least a little something,” he jokes back before turning to face her, shirt still in his hand. “Thought you liked the show.” She rolls her eyes, but even after him turning her down, the flirting still makes her feel better. “Anyways... Just wanted to show you that bad boy.” He slips his shirt back over his head and she resists the small urge to tell him to keep it off. “I gotta get back to the Normandy,” he says. “Esteban wants my help working on the shuttle.” Shepard shuffles her feet for a moment and then sticks out her hand towards him.

“Thanks for coming by, James.” She uses a formal voice, hoping the gesture and tone will clearly communicate a no hard feelings vibe. He reaches out and takes her hand. The handshake lasts for less than a second before he brings her hand up into a fist grab and pulls her closer. He locks her eyes with his and that tension rises again.

“Lola,” he whispers. “I’m not not interested.” She loosens her grip in his, going from firm comradery to something softer. “It’s just that… you’re Commander Shepard, you know?” He watches her shoulders fall and he knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say.

“I get it, James,” she says, attempting to hide her dejection. It’s the title, the legend that again stands in her way from being a regular woman. So much for him being the person who makes her forget it all. “Don’t worry about it.” She withdraws from him quickly and a little more coldly than she intended. He again opens his mouth, but doesn’t form words. “I’ll see you later,” she dismisses him and he nods. He moves to leave before trying once more to end on a friendly note.

“This is gonna be a perfect place for a fiesta.”

~~~

For a guy who all but told her no, James is sure as shit staring at her an awful lot like he wants to rip her clothes off.

“Is constant staring customary to the human mating ritual?” Garrus teases him as he pours drinks on the other side of the bar. “Because if so, you’re doing a damn good job, Jimmy.” James grimaces and throws a peanut shell at the Turian.

“Shut it, Scars.”

“He’s still convinced regs are a problem to worry about,” Steve chimes in, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Regs? Really?” Garrus asks. “You realize breaking regulations is pretty much Shepard’s specialty, right?” He slides the drink towards James who just shakes his head at it and passes it to Steve. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re quite possibly facing the end of the galaxy here. Who’s kissing who isn’t something anyone’s worried about, even the brass.” James mumbles something and picks at the label on his nearly full beer bottle.

He can barely see Shepard at the kitchen entrance from his spot at the end of the bar and every time she moves, his neck cranes to follow her. He’d either purposely or accidentally kept her in view all night and has spent the better part of it kicking himself for not just throwing her against a wall earlier that day.

She catches his eye and he instantly looks away, back to his bottle. She chose to wear a dress of all things tonight. A god damned dress. A little black number that fit her better than it had any right to. The woman was trying to kill him.

“Boys,” he hears her greet them casually, having approached them at the bar while he was attempting to ignore her. “How are things going?” James doesn’t hear their response. He’s too preoccupied trying to keep his eyes off of her chest as she leans her hip against the edge of the bar. “You seem quiet, Vega,” she comments.

“Just enjoying the party.” He shrugs and takes a drink of his beer, thinking about how he could kill Garrus and Steve for the look they shoot each other.

“Steve,” Garrus interrupts. “Let me show you that data pad I mentioned earlier.” Garrus had, of course, mentioned no such data pad in their prior conversations, but Steve agreed eagerly and James really thought about strangling at least one of them when they left him alone with Shepard.

“We good?” she asks him so casually that he almost feels bad.

“Yeah, why?” He takes another drink of his beer and it quickly turns into a large gulp.

“You seem to be avoiding me,” She squints and forces a smile. “And also staring, which is odd. Just want to make sure we’re good.” She takes a sip of her own drink and shifts her eyes to the Turian alcohol bottle, investigating it curiously.

James chews on his tongue for a moment. She wants them to be good. Good means normal. Normal would mean telling her those squats she’s been doing have done wonders for her ass and that was dangerous tonight.

“It help if I tell you that you look damn fine in that dress?” He never was too good at avoiding danger.

“Maybe,” She shrugs and leans forward towards him just a little. “Probably help a little more if you called me Lola.” Damn if her voice didn’t sound husky and smooth. Despite his better judgement, he followed her lead and leaned in as well, lowering his voice if nothing more than to make sure eavesdroppers wouldn’t hear.

“Well, that dress is definitely giving me ideas… Lola.” A smile breaks on her lips and he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he sees her shiver just the slightest. He takes another long drink, but this time doesn’t take his eyes off her.

“You going to keep a girl guessing or are you going to share with the class?” She takes a step forward, getting close enough for him to notices she actually put on a light layer of perfume too. He chuckles, but curses internally.

“You’re making it real hard to remember why this is a bad idea,” he warns.

He starts listing the reasons in his head. Fraternization regs. She’s his commander. She’s fucking Commander Shepard and he’s just a nobody lieutenant who makes a shitty leader. She’s probably looking for some kind of easy fling. Distracting her like that would be selfish. It’d look bad. The rest of the crew might start to question her judgement. The list goes on and on.

“I never pegged you to be a guy who runs hot and cold,” she says, breaking his train of thought. “And yet today you’ve given more mixed signals than a broken comm transmission.”

“Sorry, Lola.” And he is, honestly. He’s a tangled-up mess of thoughts and emotions and even the little bit of alcohol he’s consumed tonight is making him think with his dick first.

“Want me to put on a wig? Change my name? Maybe lay on an accent?” He can tell by the wiggle in her eyebrows as much as the suggestion itself that she’s had a little too much to drink, but it twists his stomach in a bad way all the same. “I don’t have to be Commander Shepard for a night.” And now he feels guilty, so much so that his neck and his face turn red and he looks down again, embarrassed at himself. She gives a quick pat to his forearm. “Come find me if you change your mind.”

She grabs her drink and leaves to mingle with her other guests, leaving him alone to feel like an asshole. He could never find the right thing to say around Shepard. Not when it came to this. He wanted her and lately he had to admit it was more than just a sexual attraction. He wanted more than that, but the idea of being selfish enough to pursue Commander Shepard was intimidating. Maybe, he admits, he needs to stop separating her and realize that Commander Shepard and his Lola are one and the same. Maybe then he can stop being a dick.

“Fucking pendejo,” he whispers to himself before swiping up that Turian bottle.

~~~

She can feel the headache before she even opens her eyes. Had she really drank much last night? No, she’s sure she didn’t. She even remembers everything, including climbing into her bed after barely having the energy to change clothes.

She throws on her N7 sweatshirt and slowly treks her way to the kitchen, making sure to note all the remnants of the party, including some of her friends scattered amongst the apartment. It makes her smile.

She smells bacon as she rounds the corner and sees James at the stove already in the full throws of making breakfast. He beams a smile at her when he sees her in the doorway and flips the pan a little.

“Lola!” he greets. “Eggs?”

“You’re awful cheery,” she comments dryly, and a little bitterly, as she steps further into the kitchen. She rounds the island the stove is on and snags a piece of bacon from the plate there.

“Been a while since you knocked that many back?” he teases, watching the way her eyes squint uncomfortably. “Breakfast will help.” He shovels some of the fresh eggs onto a plate and passes it her way. She takes them gratefully and reaches for the salt. James’ hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her reach. “You really gonna do me like that?” he scolds playfully. “Add salt before you even try them? That’s my abuela’s recipe. It doesn't need more salt.” She cracks a smile, but doesn’t move her hand away just yet, the warmth of his hand feeling too comforting to pull away from. There’s a gentle swipe of his thumb over her pulse before he lets go on his own. He empties the rest of the eggs on a communal plate before clearing his throat. “Hey, let me know when you have some time,” he says. It sounds surprisingly awkward. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

~~~

Never being one to put things off, Shepard returned to her room as soon as she’d finished eating and made the rounds to make sure everyone was awake or, at the very least, breathing.

I’m in my room. Got some time. She sends the message before even making it through the door. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for him to respond.

Be up in a minute.

She makes herself busy with her omni-tool while she waits. She feels a bit like a fool, practically throwing herself at him a second time only to be left alone again last night. She wouldn’t blame him if he came to talk to her about how uncomfortable she had made him.

She’s left the door open for him, but he still gives it a gentle knock to get her attention when he arrives.

“Nice room,” he comments, sticking his head over the threshold and looking around. “Bit different than the Normandy. Less fish.” He cracks a smile at her and the simple gesture puts her at ease a little. He can’t be pissed at her if he’s still making jokes, right?

“You’re just jealous you don’t have fish in your room.” She isn’t about to admit that she actually misses the blue glow and gentle whir of the filter when she falls asleep. Not right now at least.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should trade rooms sometime.”

Or maybe we could share mine. Shepard physically bites her tongue to stop herself from saying it aloud. Still unsure of exactly where they stand and just how awkward she made things for him, it is not the time to let the flirtations rise up that quickly.

He takes her brief silence to enter the room and close the door behind him. That makes her a little nervous, but not nearly as much as when he says, “So... we should talk about last night.”

“I owe you an apology, Lieutenant,” she says instantly, nearly cutting him off. The way she snaps back to professionalism with a straight back, pushed down shoulders, and a commanding tone makes him pause for a moment, his eyes widening just a fraction. “I was inappropriate with you and should not have taken advantage of my rank.” It takes an extra moment for her apology to sink in and his brow furrows as he sorts it through his brain.

“What? No!” he huffs and takes two large, hurried steps her way. She must not have held her surprise well enough because he suddenly stops again. “Lola,” he sighs. “I didn’t come here to... register a complaint.” His face crunches up as though he doesn’t like the way the word taste. “I came to apologize to you,” he says firmly. “And hopefully not fuck up my words this time.”

The intensity in his eyes and the way he’s not shying away from her makes Shepard feel like she’s a young girl again. Any and all experience she has with men and relationships seems to just melt away and suddenly she’s got butterflies and a blush. There’s a nervous heat in her stomach that makes it hard to regain her composure.

“Okay,” she says slowly, not completely sure of where he’s going, but hoping to every God in the galaxy that he’s not turning her down again.

“I can’t hook up with you.” The butterflies die and the excited heat turns to an anger.

“I promise you don’t have to reject me again for me to understand.” She says it harshly, bitterly even. She barely manages to contain throwing her arms in the air when she turns away from him, moving towards the desk in the corner as if she has something better to do. She hears him mutter under his breath and while her Spanish is terrible, the inflection makes it sound like a string of curses.

“Shepard!” He follows her footsteps and when she spins to sit in the desk chair, his arm is extended as though he reached out for her just a moment too late. “I can’t hook up with you,” he emphasizes. “I can’t do just one night and that’s what would have happened last night. Would have been a drunken hook up that one of us or both of us would have brushed off in the morning. I don’t want that.” Her anger starts to dissolve and her spine loses some of its rigidness as she slinks back into her chair.

“What do you want then?” she asks, voice softer and quieter now. She’s afraid of the answer. He chews on his tongue and grinds his jaw and she wonders if maybe he’s afraid too.

“You,” he finally says.

“You sure about that?” She can’t help but scoff. “I am Commander Shepard, after all.”

“Yeah, you are.” His sigh this time seems more like a pained groan. Shepard watches carefully as he turns and sits himself on her unmade bed. “Which is why it feels completely selfish and impossible to ask you to commit to anything more, let alone to an insignificant lieutenant like me.”

“Commit?” She suddenly feels lighter again.

“When I go for something, I go all in,” he tells her. “That would include you...this...us.” He waves his hand out awkwardly and avoids her eyes as though he’s nervous. She bites down on her lip to swallow down the smile. She knows it’s not exactly fair to enjoy his nervousness, but at least it’s not just her. She slowly pushes herself up from her chair.

“You’re not insignificant,” she assures him.

“I’m not some hero of the galaxy,” he admits. He doesn’t say it with a self-conscious, but rather states it just as a simple fact. “I haven’t been with you since the beginning like most of these guys.”

“You know that’s one of the things I like about you James?” He looks up at her curiously. “Sure, you’ve heard the stories, but we didn't meet on the ship in the midst of wars. We met on Earth.” She rounds the desk slowly, walking closer to where he sits still using caution in case he backs out. “You didn’t just get to know Commander Shepard. You got to know Jane, to know me. You treat me like I’m human.”

“You are human, Lola.” He’s not looking away from her now and it gives her a little burst of confidence.

“Yeah. What was it you said? Just flesh and blood?” There’s a tease of a smirk on her lips as she comes to stand in front of him, legs stopping just short of slipping between the gap of his spread knees. He chuckles and the weight of everything starts to lift.

“You sure about this, Lola?” He reaches out and curls his hand around her hip. It's the first time he’s ever really touched her and it makes her heart skip just a little. She leans into his touch, pushing her hip into his palm and leans forward to put her hands on his shoulders. He feels solid beneath her and she can’t resist the need to squeeze just a little, to feel the muscles at the end of her fingers.

“I’ve thought about it in great detail.” He cocks an eyebrow at her and tugs her in-between his legs. He watches her with an unbridled desire in his eyes and for the first time in a long time, she feels real excitement. She traces one hand up the side of his neck so she can run his fingers along his jaw. “That party shouldn’t be the last bit of happiness we get to indulge in.”

He moves quickly; his hand on the back of her neck before she knew he moved it, using barely any strength to pull her down to him. She follows him easily, all too eager to kiss him heatedly. Months of suppressed desires pour out into each other and for the first few moments, they merely hold onto each other and soak in the relief of letting go. And then James’ hands start moving, pulling her closer and sliding over the curve of her ass. Shepard is compliant and carefully climbs into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips on her bed. He bites gently at her bottom lip before using a hand on her jaw to tilt her head back, allowing him to kiss down her neck.

Eyes closed and succumbing to the pleasure he’s offering, Shepard is unprepared for when James moves again. He rolls to the side and pushes her onto her back on the bed. She lets out an actual squeak of surprise and James chuckles, still pressing kisses to her skin. With her legs still around his waist, his hips grind almost unconsciously and she doesn’t hold back her moan.

James peels himself away from her slowly, leaving a cold trail of air where his body had been on top of her. She opens her eyes and glares at him, but the smirk still on his face and the bulge she manages to catch a glimpse of through his pants, make sure no fear of rejection rises back in her.

“And where are you going?” she asks, attempting and failing to use her Commander tone. She tries again after clearing her throat and pushing herself up on her elbows. “You’re not leaving this room for a while.” James laughs and flashes her a smile as he keeps walking to the door.

“Is that an order?” he teases, pressing the lock for the door and waiting until it flashes red before turning back to her.

“You bet your ass it is.” She smiles back at him. She could have locked the door from right here with her omni-tool and he knew it. He was just being a teasing bastard. “You’re not leaving her until I say so.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs again before coming back to her.

[violethowler]

The Heroine’s Journey of Sora

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks writing out my thoughts on Kingdom Hearts and the way the series follows the framework of the Heroine’s Journey. Rather than a bunch of drabbles or a single long-winded post, I’ve decided to break up my explanations of the Heroine’s Journey and the way Kingdom Hearts fits into it as a series of ten essays posted weekly. I will put up a masterpost once all of them are finished, and in the meantime I will have all of them on my blog under the tag ‘Kingdom Hearts and the Heroine’s Journey.’

Due to the length of this essay, I will be putting the full thing under a cut. 

What many Kingdom Hearts fans do not realize is that while Tetsuya Nomura does sometimes make up the details as he goes when it comes to the writing of Kingdom Hearts, he does do things with a plan. 

In the KH3 Ultimania [1], he talked about how he’d had the conclusion of the Dark Seeker Saga outlined by the end of Kingdom Hearts II’s development. In an April 2012 interview��[2] with Nintendo President Satoru Iwata, he indicated that he’d had a general framework up to Kingdom Hearts II planned out when the original game was first announced. And in a 2004 interview after the original Chain of Memories was released on GameBoy Advance, he mentioned that he’d already come up with the “last scene” that would serve as the definitive ending of the entire series[3]. 

So while some details may be hard to predict because Nomura comes up with lore and backstory details as he goes, he does have a plan in mind where the overall story is going. And the central arc of the series is entirely predictable once you understand the framework that the story fits into. 

Since the late 1800s, scholars have been studying the common patterns that repeat in stories, legends, and myths across different cultures around the world. One of the most well known templates developed from such research is the Hero’s Journey. In his 1949 book The Hero with a Thousand Faces, literature professor Joseph Campbell published a 17 step formula of storytelling. Campbell held up this framework as the monomyth, an ultimate narrative archetype from which all other stories are derived, and in discussion of his work expressed his view of The Hero’s Journey as a universal framework that showed how people grow from youth into adulthood.

However in the 1980s, Maureen Murdock began work on her own narrative framework. Believing that Campbell’s view on the universality of the Hero’s Journey did not encompass the experiences of every identity like he claimed, Murdock developed what she called The Heroine’s Journey as a critique and response to Campbell’s monomyth. Other authors have shared their own variations of the Heroine’s Journey, but for the purposes of this analysis, I will be focusing on Murdock’s model. Hers is both the oldest one I know of, and the one that I personally have the most familiarity with. Though originally conceived as a therapy tool, the core concepts of Murdock’s template have resulted in its use in storytelling for narratives about protagonists overcoming the ingrained biases and preconceptions of society. 

Some notable examples of stories that follow the Heroine’s Journey template, albeit most with different formulas, include 

Beauty and the Beast

The Hunger Games trilogy

The Princess and the Frog

Tangled

Howl’s Moving Castle

Labyrinth 

Star Wars Sequel Trilogy*

Voltron: Legendary Defender*

*Note: Voltron: Legendary Defender and the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy are examples of 3-act narratives that followed the Heroine’s Journey framework in the first 2 acts only for behind-the-scenes conflicts to result in the formula being abandoned in the final act. 

Despite the name, it is possible in theory to have a male protagonist follow the Heroine’s Journey, much like how you can have a female protagonist in a Hero’s Journey.  While nearly every story I know that follows the Heroine’s Journey template has a female protagonist in the lead role, Kingdom Hearts is the first example that I’ve discovered of a male protagonist following this formula. Sora’s arc across the series follows Murdock’s framework so precisely that I was able to correctly predict the broad strokes of how Re:Mind would go three months before the DLC was released. 

Part I: The Beginning

While the Heroine’s Journey mimics the Hero’s Journey in its early stages, it ultimately goes in its own direction. I plan to go into further detail about the differences between the two in a later essay, but for now I will say that while Campbell’s monomyth describes physical plot points and the themes they represent, the Heroine’s Journey formula focuses on the emotional conflict of the narrative and the psychological development of its main characters. The pattern of the Hero’s Journey is fluid and doesn’t have a fixed central theme, while the core element of the Heroine’s Journey is a protagonist coming of age in a society that consciously or not regards them as lesser because they do not fit in with the expectations of the dominant social group. 

I know that some people who decide to read further will be put off by the fact that the names and descriptions of the Heroine’s Journey feature gendered language and focus on discussions of masculinity and femininity, so allow me to explain. The reason for this is that in a Heroine’s Journey, the protagonist is attempting to conform to a set of traits that the audience’s culture values. In pursuing this external validation, the main character has to suppress a vital part of who they are, cutting themselves off from achieving their full potential. The traits they are suppressing are the ones which are often regarded as feminine, while the ones they are trying to conform to are typically associated with masculinity. We see this pattern frequently in movies where the female lead tries to succeed in a male-dominated career field, only to feel lonely and unfulfilled when she finally gets what she wants because she sacrificed the parts of herself that made her who she is along the way. 

Now that I’ve given you a relatively brief summary of the Heroine’s Journey, I can get down to business and walk people through the steps to this template and how it fits with the story of Kingdom Hearts. Note that this is only a basic rundown of the steps of the Heroine’s Journey and how it relates to these games, and I will be posting additional essays shortly which go into greater detail on the themes, character archetypes, and other different layers of the framework that are present in the series. 

Murdock’s version of the Heroine’s Journey begins with the “Separation from the Feminine”. This is the stage where, as mentioned, the protagonist suppresses a core part of themselves in pursuit of external validation. It often takes the form of the protagonist sacrificing their emotional strengths and focuses exclusively on proving themselves in the physical sphere. Sora has demonstrated again and again that his greatest strength is his empathy and his willingness to make connections with others. It makes him a strong unifying force because of how well it complements the people around him. But because this isn’t something tangible in the same way that physical strength is, he doesn’t see the value of it, believing that without the strength of his friends he’s nothing. 

From the way the other kids on Destiny Islands talk about their competitions, Sora’s focus is on trying to prove that he’s just as strong and capable as Riku is. But he’s so focused on proving himself in physical challenges that he doesn’t notice the signs of Riku’s jealousy that lead his friend into the arms of Maleficent. And we see through Anti Form and Rage Form that Sora is still repressing his own negative emotions in Kingdom Hearts III. His narrow focus on external skills has cut him off from achieving the full potential of his internal ones. 

When Sora awakens in Traverse Town after the destruction of Destiny Islands, we come to the second stage of the Heroine’s Journey, “Identification with the Masculine and Gathering of Allies”. This is where the main character chooses to align with the traits and roles that the dominant social group sees as desirable in order to achieve their goal, and where they acquire the allies who will help them in their quest. With the adults around him focusing on his ability to destroy the Heartless, Sora latches onto the Chosen One status that implicitly comes with having a Keyblade. His interactions with Phil and his disappointment with the status of Junior Hero in subsequent games paint Sora as being focused on heroism in the sense of overcoming obstacles with force. Even Donald and Goofy, in the beginning, are focused on Sora’s value as a Keyblade Wielder in terms of how their fight against the Heartless can lead them to King Mickey’s location.

By setting off with Donald, and Goofy, Sora embarks on the “Road of Trials” stage of the Heroine’s Journey. This is one of the few points of similarity between the Heroine’s Journey and the Hero’s, corresponding to Campbell’s “Tests, Allies, and Enemies” stage. This is where the main character faces the initial obstacles and challenges of their quest. In the first few Kingdom Hearts games we have Sora face off against Maleficent, Ansem, and the Organization, before reuniting with Riku and Kairi in The World That Never Was. The final stages of Kingdom Hearts II correspond to the “Finding the Boon of Success” stage of both the Hero and Heroine’s Journeys. 

Part II: Interlude

In a Hero’s Journey, the Boon of Success is the end of the story. They slay the dragon, save the princess, and go home to live happily ever after. I suspect this is one reason why a lot of gamers in the KH fanbase tend to think of Kingdom Hearts 2 as the best game of the series - because in their minds Sora’s quest had been completed now that he had found Riku and Kairi like he set out to do in the first game. His journey, as far as they were concerned, was done. 

(This may also have an affect on how some fans reacted to Kingdom Hearts III, expecting it to be a grand epic finale that wrapped everything up with a bow and left a completely blank slate for the future of the series)

But in a Heroine’s Journey, the Boon of Success is not the end of the main character’s story. They have achieved their external goal, but they have not addressed their internal motivations for seeking that goal in the first place. And as their story continues, they find themselves facing challenges that their attitude thus far has failed to prepare them for. Finding The Boon of Success typically occurs early during the second act of the story. Usually it is achieved in the second half of Act II, but can sometimes happen as early as the end of the first act. For Sora, this was of course finding Riku and Kairi so that they could all go home to the Destiny Islands together.

But because the protagonist of a Heroine’s Journey has not addressed the underlying insecurities which set them on their current path, they “Awaken to Feelings of Spiritual Aridity”. 

They begin to learn that the conflict they find themselves involved in is not as clear cut as they previously believed, and the challenges that come with this new knowledge are ones that their current way of doing things has failed to prepare them for. They may have found their boon of success, but things quickly begin to go wrong until they are ultimately forced to sacrifice their reward. 

The first game already showed through Riku and Mickey that Sora was not the only person able to wield a Keyblade, but because of his heroic deeds the story still framed him as the Keyblade Master and treated him as having a more significant role to play in important events than anyone else. It’s only after he hears from Mickey of the Keyblade Wielders who came before him that it begins to sink in for him that being a Keyblade Master is not a special Chosen One status. He thinks that because of all that he’s accomplished, he doesn’t need the recognition that comes with the official title, and because of that he’s careless and almost gets himself Norted at the end of DDD. 

His failure in the exam is a blow to his self confidence and shows that despite what he had said at the start of the test, deep down he really does want that kind of external validation. His insecurities and doubts continue to eat at him over the course of KH3, culminating in his breakdown at the Keyblade Graveyard. Outside of battle, we see him bottle up his doubts and other negative emotions because his friends (Except for Riku. More on him later) brush his concerns and problems aside. It is very much like Joy from Inside Out doing everything to keep Rylee happy and refusing to let Sadness take the controls. 

When their current way of doing things ultimately costs them their boon, the protagonist tries to go back to the way things used to be. To return to a simpler time and avoid the pain of the present. When literally going back to where their journey began isn’t possible, a Heroine’s Journey story will use this stage symbolically. The main character will cling to a person, object, or relationship that they associate with a simpler time. But as comfortable as the sense of familiarity they get from that is, it ultimately cannot truly address their inner pain in the long run.

This is reflected in the Re:Mind DLC, where Sora goes back in time in order to find the pieces of Kairi’s heart and bring her back. One of Kairi’s most consistent character traits is her fear of change and desire for things to remain the way they were. 

At the end of the DLC, Sora compares his connection with Kairi to the bond between Ventus and Chirithy, a friendship explicitly strained by distance, time, and Ven’s amnesia. In an interview at E3 2018 [4], Nomura commented about Kingdom Hearts III tying into a theme of childhood friendships changing as one gets older, a plotline that Merlin calls attention to after Sora’s visit to the 100 Acre Wood. And in a 2006 book titled Character’s Report Vol. 1, Nomura specifically calls attention to Kairi’s anxiety about growing apart from Sora and Riku as they get older. [5] All of these details combined frame Sora’s quest to save Kairi as an attempt to symbolically recover the innocence he lost when he began his journey.

But while he is able to find a way to renew his connection to Kairi, it can never be the same as it was before, and attempting to go back to how things used to be is ultimately doomed to failure. By the time he brings her to The Final World at the end of Re:Mind, Sora has realized that he and Kairi cannot stay on the same plan of existence anymore as a consequence of his actions. So he takes her on a tour of the worlds to re-establish their connection before fading away at the end of KH3. Thus, we come to the final act of the Kingdom Hearts narrative. 

Part III: The Future Story 

It is at this point that the protagonist of a Heroine’s Journey begins the “Initiation and Descent to the Goddess” stage. Having failed to achieve meaningful success through their old way of doing things, they must look inward and examine the cause of their insecurities and accept that in order to move forward they need to heal themselves. In this step, the main character travels to either a dream world or a physical location that is closed off and forbidden to them, like the West Wing of Beast’s Castle in Beauty and the Beast. In Jungian psychology, this metaphorical dark cave represents the main character’s subconscious, and entering it triggers a dark night of the soul for our protagonist as they are forced to confront the parts of themselves they’ve been keeping locked away.

While Sora knows in his head that darkness is not inherently bad, he continues to rely entirely exclusively on light, on his connections to others, and has not properly accepted it in his heart. In order to truly finish his coming of age narrative, Sora must learn to balance his inner light and darkness the same way that Riku has. And to do that, he needs to look inside himself and figure out why he feels so badly that he needs his connections to others in order to be strong. And in order to achieve that level of understanding of himself, he needs to understand his Animus. 

Derived from the psychological theories of Carl Jung, the Animus in a Heroine’s Journey is an external representation of the protagonist’s masculine-coded traits in physical form. While not every Heroine’s Journey features an Animus, many of the stories I’ve seen that follow the formula do. Usually the Animus appears in the form of a deuteragonist who often functions as the protagonist’s Shadow, an archetypal character that embodies the aspects of the main character’s personality that due to their immaturity they either aren’t aware or don’t want to acknowledge that they have. 

In order to complete their character arc, the protagonist must symbolically integrate with their Shadow by learning to embrace the parts of their psyche that the Shadow represents. In many stories the protagonist has more than one Shadow figure, all of whom challenge the protagonist by forcing them to become faster or smarter to stay one step ahead, giving their interactions with the main character a push-and-pull dynamic as they drive the main character to grow. Shadow figures who fill the role of the Animus also challenge the protagonist to look inside themselves and examine their own emotional needs. With an Animus, the push to grow runs in both directions, with the main character motivating their Animus’ growth just as much as the other way around. 

In these types of stories, every aspect of the character is tailored to make the Animus and the protagonist fit together like Yin and Yang. In visual stories such as film, television, and video games, the Animus’ entire look is designed to complement the main character and they are framed in the narrative as the protagonist’s equal physically, intellectually, and spiritually. This serves to emphasize that despite their surface differences, much of the conflict between the protagonist and their Animus comes from the ways in which they are fundamentally similar. While their circumstances may have led them to drastically different lives, the characters are ultimately two sides of the same coin, and their character development is driven by learning to balance their contrasting traits.

And within the structure of the Kingdom Hearts series, there is only one character who fulfills all of these qualities in relation to Sora’s journey. 

The same character who Testuya Nomura said in the KH1 Ultimania was designed to balance Sora; [6]

Who series producer Shinji Hasimoto said was part of the core of the series alongside Sora [7], as has been repeatedly emphasized by the number of games where he is given a major focus and is a playable character alongside Sora. 

[Image Description: Riku walking towards a door to light in the opening of Kingdom Hearts III. End Description]

While Sora and Riku have addressed some of the latter’s behavior in the first game during their conversation on the dark beach at the end of Kingdom Hearts II, they have yet to truly dig deep into why Riku felt the way he did in the first game. Riku has not told Sora about how he felt like he was being left behind and forgotten. And since that conversation, Riku has gone to the opposite extreme, dealing with his emotional problems on his own instead of lashing out at others like he had done at the start. Likewise while Sora has accepted that darkness is not inherently evil he has yet to apply this to his own negative emotions, as seen in Kingdom Hearts III. Neither character has truly achieved an ideal balance yet, and they cannot until Sora completes his journey. 

After the protagonist returns from their spiritual journey, they experience an “Urgent Yearning to Reconnect with the Feminine.” As the main character recovers from their period of soul searching, they embrace the parts of themselves that they had neglected in their pursuit of outside approval. Their Descent allowed them to recognize their value as a person and an individual outside of their ability to fulfill the role that they were expected to fill. Following this realization, they go about “Healing the Mother/Daughter split”. Reclaiming the aspects of their personality they’ve been repressing gives the protagonist the clarity necessary to gain a different perspective on their old way of thinking. This new understanding is what will allow them to find the inner balance needed to truly complete their journey. 

The Japanese version of the “My friends are my power” mantra often repeated across the series is “Connected hearts are my power.” For Sora, who has long relied on his connections to others as a source of strength, he should come to realize that these connections go both ways: that his friends draw strength from him just as much as he draws strength from them. This should help him come to accept that he is still strong and worthy all by himself. Ven’s version of the mantra from the English version of BBS summarizes it best: “My friends are my power. And I am theirs.” After he accepts this, Sora will finally be able to use the full extent of his emotional abilities.

After achieving that new perspective, the protagonist’s next step is “Healing the Wounded Masculine Within”. This is the stage of the Heroine’s Journey where the main character, having come to understand themselves, reconciles with their Animus, thereby symbolically integrating the aspects of their psyche that the Animus represents and permanently healing the rift between the two characters. This will be where Sora and Riku need to have a longer, more in-depth conversation than the one they had on the Dark Magin at the end of KH2. Where they talk about why Riku acted the way he did and finally address the underlying reason for why he was so jealous of Sora in the original game. 

The final stage of the Heroine’s Journey is the “Integration of Masculine and Feminine”. This is the point at which the main character and their Animus finally achieve a perfect balance between them. They are united both internally and externally. There are no more secrets between them, and they are now free to move forward and overcome the main antagonist together. 

Part IV: Conclusion: 

While there’s too many different possibilities to completely predict every twist and turn of the series’ lore in future games, once you understand how Kingdom Hearts fits into the framework of the Heroine’s Journey, the broad strokes of how the story will go in terms of Sora’s growth and character development are entirely predictable. When Re:Mind first released and the rest of the fandom was reacting on Twitter, I was sitting back with a smug smile on my face thinking:

[Image Description: Emperor Palpatine in Star Wars: Episode VI: Return of the Jedi sitting aboard the Death Star II with the caption ‘Good, Good. Everything is going according to plan.’ End Description.]

While I didn’t expect the precise mechanics of how Sora went about saving Kairi, Re:Mind was exactly what I expected it to be in terms of themes and its place in the Heroine’s Journey framework, and then the Secret Episode came along to reinforce that the next game is going to be Sora’s Descent.

While there isn’t a complete guarantee that the series will continue to follow the formula, I find it extremely unlikely that it won’t. Kingdom Hearts follows the stages of this framework too precisely for me to ever believe it happened by accident. So as long as there is no corporate interference from Disney like what happened to Voltron, I’m confident that Nomura’s plan for the finale of the series will be exactly what the Heroine’s Journey predicts it should be, no matter how unexpected future additions to the lore may be.

Special thanks to @dragonofyang and the rest of Team Purple Lion for everything I know about the Heroine’s Journey. I wouldn’t be as enthusiastic about analyzing the story of Kingdom Hearts if they hadn’t taught me the vocabulary to realize the kind of story that Nomura has been telling right under my nose for the last 18 years.

Sources:

[1] “Kingdom Hearts III Ultimania interview with Tetsuya Nomura”; March 12, 2019

https://www.khinsider.com/news/Kingdom-Hearts-3-Ultimania-Main-Nomura-Interview-Translated-14763

[2] “Iwata Asks: Nintendo 3DS: Third Party Game Developers, Volume 12: Kingdom Hearts 3D [Dream Drop Distance], Part 3: Square’s Intentions”; April 2012.

https://iwataasks.nintendo.com/interviews/#/3ds/creators/11/2

[3] “2004 GMR Nomura Interview 2004!”; Translation by Kingdom Hearts Insider posted May 5, 2012. 

https://www.khinsider.com/news/GMR-Nomura-Interview-2004-2563

[4] “E3 2018: Tetsuya Nomura on If Kingdom Hearts 3 Is the End of Sora's Story”; June 14, 2018.

https://www.ign.com/articles/2018/06/14/e3-2018-tetsuya-nomura-on-if-kingdom-hearts-3-is-the-end-of-soras-story

[5] “Character’s Report Vol. 1 Translations”; Jul 16, 2014

https://www.khinsider.com/forums/index.php?threads/characters-report-vol-1-translations.195560/\

[6] “A Look Back: Kingdom Hearts Ultimania Gallery Comments Part 1″; August 30, 2019;

https://www.khinsider.com/news/A-Look-Back-KINGDOM-HEARTS-Ultimania-Gallery-Comments-Part-1-15519

[7] “How Kingdom Hearts III Will Grow Up With Its Players.” September 24, 2013

https://www.ign.com/articles/2013/09/25/how-kingdom-hearts-iii-will-grow-up-with-its-players

[X] “The Heroine with a Thousand Faces”; June 13, 2019;

https://www.teampurplelion.com/heroine-with-a-thousand-faces/

[X] Murdock, Maureen. The Heroine’s Journey. 1990.

[X] “Maureen Murdock’s Heroine’s Journey Arc”. The Heroine Journeys Project. https://heroinejourneys.com/heroines-journey/

[morganaseren]

Warden Niamh/Warden Bethany AU

So because there seemed to be interest in the idea, I decided to expand on the second prompt on this list of AUs I made for Bethany and my Niamh Cousland.

Since Bethany is a Circle Mage in Niamh’s canon verse, I really wanted to experiment with Bethany in one of her other potential routes We don’t talk about the ones where she died not long after escaping Lothering or down in the Deep Roads. Like, what are you talking about? Lalala~ and see if I could work together a happier ending than what the games canonically gave her.

Like most of the AUs I’ve already written about though, this is just a snippet into the verse, so it’s not as polished as I’d like it to be, and the pacing isn’t on par with my main fic. However, there are still 50+ pages for your reading pleasure! Depending on reader interest, I’ll be more than happy to write more about this or other AUs once OtSttCA is completed.

Disclaimer: Any section written in present tense beneath the Read More contains notes or scenes that I’ve yet to expand upon properly.

CliffNotes version of what goes on:

This whole thing takes place sometime after Bethany becomes a Grey Warden and continues on through the years-long breaks between the Acts of DA2. The epilogue will be set sometime after the Trespasser DLC is completed.

Niamh is the Grey Warden who Morrigan chooses to do the Dark Ritual with, and through the obvious use of magic, Kieran is conceived. Because of this, Niamh’s sister Saoirse escapes her otherwise canonical death and gets to be happily married to Leliana.

Because of their mutual respect for one another, and the fact that Niamh went through the trouble of finding Morrigan through the events of the Witch Hunt DLC (she was worried about her friend and their son), she and Morrigan remain in close contact and co-parent Kieran together. Their relationship is often mistaken as a romantic one though.

Bethany eventually falls in love with Niamh over the years, but because she believes the other woman is in a relationship with Morrigan, she keeps her feelings to herself. As such, this is obviously going to be a slow burn romance much like OtSttCA.

Bethany only confesses (albeit by accident) when Niamh nearly dies during a darkspawn ambush when the two woman accidentally find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads.

There’s a romantic kiss out in the rain along with a semi-NSFW scene later on, which explains why the Read More is in place beyond the fact that this is already super long despite the fact that it’s unfinished...

They both go off in search of the cure to The Calling not long after the Kirkwall Rebellion, and they both eventually get married sometime after the Trespasser DLC with Divine Victoria (spoilers: it’s Leliana) officiating their wedding.

Interested so far? Click below to read more!

“You’re originally from Ferelden, no?” Stroud asked, drawing Bethany’s attention from where she’d been listlessly staring at the cobblestones as they walked away from Amaranthine’s sea port.

The city itself seemed to be thriving with fishmongers and traders of all kinds rattling off their wares to passersby. Save for the workers carrying about lumber and other building materials, one might not have even believed that Amaranthine had suffered its fair share of woes during the onset of the Fifth Blight or the consequent, mysterious darkspawn attack upon its walls nearly a year later. Still, the denizens of the arling were ever a hearty people. For whatever hardship befell them, they continued to persevere. 

She supposed she couldn’t bring herself to be too surprised by that.

The Storm Coast had spawned some of Thedas’ most fearsome raiders once upon a time, and they had proven the bane of Orlais in the rebellion that had spanned over half an Age. For the empire’s trespass upon their freedom, they had fought back with a ruthlessness that matched the raging waves of the sea that was as much a home to them as the land. In the face of such an unsympathetic enemy, they depended on one another to see themselves and each other through to another day. Such faith eventually earned them the liberation they had long sought against Orlais.

Bethany could still see evidence of such camaraderie in the way the people greeted one another so whole-heartedly, stopping to make conversation or help with the transportation of wares. It was such interaction that she’d miss in all the time she’d been away.

Kirkwall had lacked such sincere enthusiasm.

Still, in the two years since she’d left it, she was finally back home, but Bethany knew it was yet another decision she hadn’t had a say in. She hadn’t agreed to returning to Ferelden any more than she had agreed to becoming a Grey Warden. Her jaw clenched, remembering how her sister had simply handed her over to them even when faced with the proposition that they’d likely never see one another again.

Was it really so easy for you to leave me behind, Sister? she thought bitterly, and perhaps upon sensing her melancholy, Stroud changed the subject.

“I realize it seems a rather abrupt choice in returning you here, but what I seek is far too dangerous for someone so new to our way of life to accompany me with,” he explained. “I’m meeting with the Warden-Commander of the Fereldan branch so that I might share some information in the event that things go awry. Their group is smaller than the ones seen across Thedas, but no one can deny their efficiency.” Stroud spared a small chuckle at that. “A bit like your sister and her crew, I suppose; I thought perhaps you would be more comfortable in such a setting.”

It had been a thoughtful suggestion; Bethany knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh. She had always felt that the individuals whom had made up her little social circle were more Emrys’ friends than they had ever been hers. Her older sister had the type of presence to draw anyone to her with her rakish charm and absolute battle prowess.

…which was the exact opposite of her.

As an apostate, it was far easier to stay out of trouble by being unobtrusive. If she gave the Templars no reason to suspect her, she wouldn’t be taken away from her family and the quiet life she had always known. Yet, for all her trouble—and for all her desperation to abide by the rules of a society that had long hated mages like her—she had found herself alone anyway.

Bethany sighed as she looked down at the blues and silvers of the brigandine and tabard of her outfit that signified her status as a Grey Warden. Even with her staff openly displayed across her back, she supposed she no longer had to fear being turned into the authorities. Save for a few curious glances, no one so much as batted an eye at them.

She wasn’t entirely convinced this new life was better than the one she’d left. She could have dealt with the ever-present uncertainty in Kirkwall and the endless, interpersonal squabbles of their ragtag group than spending the remainder of her years surrounded by strangers and fighting darkspawn.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make.

Very little ever was.

---

“So that’s Velanna. She took over as Archivist for our branch when the Warden-Constable was promoted to her current position by our Commander,” Nathaniel said as he took Bethany and Stroud through a tour of Vigil’s Keep since the fortress’ respective Warden-Commander and Warden-Constable were currently out on business.

Their latest stop was a library filled with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves and even more that lined the walls of the chamber that consisted of three separate levels. It was impressive, and Bethany was half-convinced she could have spent an Age in this room alone and never be able to read the entirety of its collection.

At Nathaniel’s commentary, she spared a cursory glance at the woman writing intently at one of the tables furthest away from them, paying little mind to her audience. As was typical of most elves, Velanna was a slight woman. Her hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was nearly white, but there was a surliness in her pensive expression that gave Bethany pause. It was something that suggested the other woman didn’t welcome the company of others easily, and she seemed to have been proven right by Nathaniel’s words.

“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit standoffish at first. Velanna’s usually that way with everyone until she starts warming up to them,” he assured.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She didn’t really like humans all that much to begin with—hardly a surprise considering how terrible some of them were toward her former clan. Truthfully, I think the only people she really respects are our commanding officers—the Constable mostly though.” He spared a soft chuckle at that. “Granted, the Warden-Commander could lead a damn army from one side of Thedas to the other, but only her sister has the type of negotiation skills that could somehow end up with a High Dragon allied with a sheep of all things.”

“Probably a good thing,” said Varel—the Keep’s seneschal. There was amusement in his dark eyes as he stroked his beard, which had long grown grey with age. “Actually succeeding in getting the Warden-Constable angry is a terrifying sight to behold.”

“Please don’t remind me; I still have nightmares from our first meeting…” Nathaniel muttered with a shudder.

Bethany found that curious, but before she could begin to question him, she saw how he blinked at further movement inside the library. She followed his gaze to see that a dark-haired, dwarven woman had entered through one of the side entrances, carrying two, steaming mugs. One had been set before Velanna, who whispered something quietly, but both of Bethany’s brows rose when she saw how the elf’s cheeks quickly reddened by the kiss that had been pressed to them by her latest visitor.

“Ah. And that’s Sigrun there—another one of those few, honored individuals who Velanna won’t immediately snap at,” Nathaniel remarked humorously.

The tour then continued elsewhere with the party entering the Mess Hall. While neat and tidy, it would have otherwise been unremarkable were it not for the lone dwarf snoring loudly atop one of the tables—an empty cask by his side. Bethany and Stroud shared bemused glances while Varel only cursed next to them, running a weary hand down his face.

“I told you we needed better locks for the cellar if we’re to keep Oghren away from the wine stores,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

Oghren grumbled nonsensically in his sleep before promptly rolling off the table and right onto the floor, loudly overturning more than a few chairs in the process. Despite the fall, he continued to doze away, and his snoring only seemed to grow in volume. They then watched as the poor seneschal wearily hauled the dwarf back to his quarters before he could cause another incident in front of their guests.

“…well, that was Oghren,” Nathaniel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh. “Quite the interesting fellow, that one. With him, you’ve pretty much met every Warden in the Keep save for—”

He was interrupted by the sound of voices coming down the hallway.

“I told you that I’m more than capable of walking on my own!” protested a feminine voice, irritation evident within it.

“Says the woman who was nearly side-swiped off a cliff by an ogre,” came the deeper timbre of another woman’s amused reply.

Unlike Nathaniel or herself, the latest arrivals didn’t seem to bear the typical, Fereldan accent or even Stroud’s Orlesian one from what she could tell. Bethany could hear how some of the vowels lilted somewhat as they spoke.

“It didn’t really give me any choice in the matter,” was the dry response. “It was either stand before its charge or risk the family in the wagon being swept over the edge instead.”

“I was hardly questioning your bravery, Sister. The people in that caravan certainly wouldn’t, but perhaps leave the more death-defying stunts to those of us with the armor to handle it, hm? I shudder to think what our brother or Aunt Eithne (writer’s note: pronounced Eth-Nah) would say once they find out about this...”

“Perhaps that you were lazing about while I was doing all the work as per usual.”

“Hey!”

Two women appeared in the doorway of the Mess Hall then, and Bethany was startled to find that one of them rivaled her older sister in both height and size. She was a warrior through and through if the impressive greatsword over her shoulder and her overall physique was any indication. Her mane of hair was the color of pale wheat, the length of which was held in a braid that trailed down half her back, and her eyes were a deep, stormy grey. The woman she was carrying—her sister, according to their conversation—was much slighter in comparison.

Rather than sharing in the warrior’s blonde-haired looks, hers was a stark, raven-black. The loose curls trailed to roughly chin-length with a longer fringe that covered one of her eyes—the color a whisper of smoke than the darker grey her sister had. The woman’s arms were also crossed over her chest as she regarded her sister—deeply-unimpressed—before her features cleared at the sight of their visitors.

“Ah. Stroud. Glad to see you and your companion made it across the Waking Sea safely. We weren’t expecting you both for at least another day, or we’d have sent an escort to meet you at the port.”

“No need for the trouble. The winds were kind during our voyage, Warden-Constable,” he said before tilting his head in concern. “Although it appears we’ve arrived too late to help you both. Has the darkspawn presence been more troubling as of late?”

The warrior whom Bethany deduced to be the Warden-Commander merely snorted. “They’re not as plentiful as they were a year ago thankfully. With Niamh’s and Velanna’s respective magic, our branch here has slowly been sealing any access tunnels we’ve come across, but our enemy may just be as awful as vermin with how they manage to reappear in other areas.”

“The incidents have been isolated so far as we can tell, but they’re capable of disrupting travel all the same. On that note…” The Constable trailed off as she turned her gaze toward the Warden who had been showing them about the Keep. “Nathaniel, we have guests from the caravan mentioned earlier. As it’s getting rather late, Saoirse and I decided it was best not to press our luck by letting them travel so soon after the darkspawn attack. Could you and Varel direct them to the guest quarters? We’ll arrange an escort for them to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.”

He pressed a fist over his heart respectfully as he bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Wonderful. Now—”

“Now we get you back to your quarters so that we can tend to your injuries,” her sister interrupted, cheerily grinning when it led to the other woman scowling outright, as if she had been reminded of her current position.

“And I’m more than capable of walking there on my own. Put me down!”

“And risk you further injuring yourself? What type of sister would I be if I were to allow that to happen? Now then!” The Commander directed a smile Bethany’s way, and she jerked in place at the sudden attention. “You’re the latest to join our Order, aren’t you? Stroud mentioned you were a mage. I don’t suppose you know any healing magic, do you?”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Um, well, yes. I have some experience with it.” She had tended to her sister’s and their friends’ injuries often enough back in Kirkwall.

“Excellent. Would you mind tending to Niamh here as best as you can while I go find Velanna? I’m pretty sure my sister fractured a few ribs in that fight earlier.” She chuckled. “And don’t worry if she gives you any trouble; she has a history of being a terrible patient,” she added, earning a pained grunt for her troubles when the woman in question elbowed her sharply in the chest.

---

And before Bethany knew it, she found herself alone with the Warden-Constable in her quarters.

She was trying not to blush at the sight of the woman reclined against the propped pillows at the headboard of the bed. Modesty didn’t seem to be an issue for the other mage. Without another word, she had undressed—with a few occasional winces here and there as the movement pulled at her injuries—and was now bare from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts.

Bethany couldn’t help her own wince when she saw the livid bruising that covered the right side of the woman’s torso. It almost looked like the trunk of a tree had been slammed against it if the abrasions and bits of bark embedded into the cuts were any indication.

And she kept insisting to try and walk on her own with an injury like this? she thought in absolute disbelief before delicately pressing the tips of her fingers against the bruise. Despite being as gentle as possible, it still drew a sharp hiss from the Warden-Constable, and Bethany jerked her head up to see the other woman’s clearly pained visage.

“Sorry!”

“No, it needs to be done. Keep going,” she insisted even as pale eyes closed themselves to focus on breathing in and out evenly—albeit with some difficulty.

With permission given, Bethany laid her hand out over the woman’s side, drawing her magic out with a silvery-blue light. From there, she began sounding out the extent of the Warden-Constable’s injuries by feeling where it burned hottest beneath her palm—an indication of how bad the damage was. There was always a tickling sensation that spread out to her fingertips whenever she gently coaxed broken bones back into place. It was akin to puzzle pieces slowly sliding back together before she could encourage them to heal, and she waited for the pulsing waves around them to fade into a dull echo before focusing on the next fractured bone.

As for the bruised muscles surrounding them, they were far easier to deal with. Bethany poured magic beneath the skin in gradual increments—droplets of rain spilling into a cup one by one—until she felt the burning heat simmer down to a more bearable ache. She continued the process, slowly sliding her hand along the woman’s side until the patchwork of blues and blacks which had covered its expanse faded into a yellowish tinge and the superficial cuts had closed themselves. Bethany pulled away then with a satisfied smile.

“What song was that?”

Bethany blinked, turning her gaze up to see silvery eyes staring at her curiously. “Hm?”

“You were humming something while you were healing me.”

“Oh.” She felt heat gathering along her cheeks at the revelation. “It’s an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. When my father first taught me healing magic, I used to hold my breath while I was performing the spell, but as you can imagine, it’s not a very sound idea unless you want both an unconscious healer and patient.” Embarrassed laughter spilled out of her then as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “After a time, I learned that humming a few songs was useful in reminding me to breathe.”

“I see.” The Warden-Constable smiled, looking a great deal more relaxed as she reclined further against the headboard. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The Warden-Commander walked in then with Velanna in tow, and the warrior seemed surprised to see her sister still in bed. “Did you actually manage to get her to stay there the entire time?” she asked incredulously.

Bethany blinked in confusion at that since her patient had otherwise been well-behaved. As it was, she could only nod tentatively, causing the other woman to grin openly.

“Hah! Well done! I didn’t expect Stroud to send me someone who could cow her into submission.”

The Warden-Constable’s eyes narrowed then. “It was not my hearing that was damaged in that fight, Saoirse. You would do well to not make such comments before me,” she deadpanned, and despite the threat, it only drew hearty laughter from her sister, who soon drew her attention back to Bethany.

“Stroud said your name was Hawke, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably, having grown too used to her surname being used to refer to Emrys, but she nodded all the same. “I’d prefer just to be called Bethany if that’s alright.”

“Ah. Understandable. Can’t tell you how many times my sister and I both answered ‘yes’ in the same room whenever someone called out for a Warden Cousland.” She smiled. “In any case, welcome to the Fereldan branch of the Grey Wardens, Bethany. We’re glad to have you with us.”

---

After that, Bethany settles into Vigil’s Keep.

She sends letters home every now and then, but they’re usually only addressed to her mother. They’re never really long—just enough to let her know that she’s alive and well. Although Bethany realizes it’s a petty thing, she doesn’t ask about Emrys or send her anything for that matter. She’s still angry and resentful that her older sister managed to escape their adventure down into the Deep Roads unscathed while she got cheated out a future, leaving her to a life of killing darkspawn until the Calling finally takes her into the abyss of death. 

Melancholy is ever her constant companion, but eventually, she gets paired with Niamh for missions, who teaches her much about their duties as Wardens over the months, which takes them all around Ferelden. They deal with darkspawn sightings and document areas where they’ve sealed off underground routes into the Deep Roads with earth-based magic, hopefully preventing them from returning so regularly to bother nearby provinces.

As partners, they slowly become closer.

---

"Do you regret it?" Bethany asked one night as they sat by the campfire, watching as Niamh effortlessly flicked a hand to control the size of it just as a strong wind passed beneath the rocky overhang they'd taken shelter under. "Being a Grey Warden, I mean?"

Niamh paused, giving the matter some thought. "There are worse things to be, I suppose." She shrugged. "For a time, I hated the idea of being a mage because it took me away from my family. However, my being a Grey Warden was likely the only thing that saved me from being slaughtered with the rest of them when Howe plotted his coup. It likely also saved me from dying at the hands of my colleagues in Kinloch Hold when one of the Senior Enchanters overthrew it with blood magic and his followers.” She looked over at Bethany then. "Truthfully, I enjoy being able to see more of the world than through the cage the Chantry kept me in. I like the experience of being a part of it even in the moments that people dislike most."

Niamh held a hand out past the edge of the overhang, casually catching droplets of rain in her palm. Bethany watched as a slow smile spread across her features at the sound of another crash of thunder, and she couldn’t help how her own heart seemed to quicken upon seeing that serene expression.

"Our lives are more finite than they ever were," Bethany said distractedly, knowing all Wardens had only a few decades at most after their Joining.

"They are," she conceded. "That’s why I intend to make the most of it." Niamh's expression then turned sheepish as she turned back toward her. "I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, was it?"

"No," she admitted, but as mellow as the other woman was, she was hardly surprised. Niamh had a way of remaining positive despite everything else life seemed to throw at them. Bethany smiled in spite of herself. "It was an honest one though. Thank you."

---

Every day is always an interesting adventure.

If not darkspawn, they deal with brigands out on the road or aid people across the countryside. To Bethany’s surprise, their help is openly requested sometimes when they reach a new town or village. Following the Blight, the utter bravery of the Grey Wardens had earned them Ferelden’s deepest respect. Thus, despite the fact they’re two mages traveling about, their regalia draws easy admiration and conversation alike.

It’s admittedly an odd feeling to have as a mage: to be wanted.

Bethany slowly grows to enjoy it though, especially when she can help with her magic so openly without being reviled for it.

Sometimes the jobs asked of them are simple enough: deal with a band of thieves, rid the area of rabid animals encroaching too close to farmland, helping out with some odds and ends around the village, etc.

Given that Niamh is a veteran of the Fifth Blight, Bethany also ends up learning a lot of survival skills from her during their travels together. She’s endlessly amazed by how the other mage utilizes her magic in combat and with other tasks such as hunting or fishing.

Bethany’s understandably shocked when she realizes that Niamh knows how to shapeshift, often scouting the skies as a raven to search for any nearby danger or roaming the wilderness as a sleek-looking, black wolf to hunt for game. It’s an unexpected revelation, especially since the other woman admitted to having been a part of the Circle most of her life before being recruited as a Warden.

She’s never met another mage so intriguing.

While Anders had been a benevolent healer, offering his skills to those most in need, it was his restless anger—an almost blind righteousness—over the plight of mages that gave Bethany pause.

Merrill was sweet in comparison, of course, and Bethany never minded talking with her even if there were the occasional cultural gaps that led to amusing misunderstandings at times. Still, the other woman held an interest in blood magic that Bethany wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with. After all, she had grown up hearing about the dangers of such magic from the Chantry. Then again, Andrastian religion also denounced who she was as a person as well, which was depressing in its own right…

While Niamh’s aptitude for elemental magic alone is impressive, Bethany is certain the woman’s shapeshifting draws upon some form of ancient or arcane magic—something well outside of the Circle’s teachings. It draws her curiosity endlessly. As such, Bethany asks her about the skill one day. Niamh just smiles, idly toying with the wooden ring that sits on a cord of black leather around her neck, revealing that a former companion taught it to her.

And that’s how Bethany learns about Morrigan.

---

“What?” Bethany exclaimed when Saoirse revealed how she was able to survive the slaying of the Archdemon. “You’re telling me that she and Niamh were able to…” She trailed off, trying to fight the blush burning across her face as her mind began imagining the possibilities of how such a conception was possible.

“You know, I thought to ask Niamh the technicalities of it once, but given she’s my baby sister—and obviously lacks the essential, uh, tool for the matter—I just decided it was best not to pry,” Saoirse answered dryly. She idly waved her hand about. “I don’t care to learn about her intimate life any more than she cares to know about mine,” she added before the corner of her mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “But for all intents and purposes, Kieran is my nephew, and Morrigan’s very much family now despite her protests to the contrary.”

“And he has the soul of an Old God?” she asked quietly as she turned to look at Kieran and the two women who were his parents.

Oghren had heard of their latest visitors and was—

Bethany squinted in confusion.

He was doing some type of weird jig in front of the baby, who was currently in Morrigan’s arms. Unfortunately, the erratic, uncoordinated nature of it did nothing to amuse him or his mother. Seemingly uncomfortable by the sight, Kieran gave an unhappy whine before reaching out toward Niamh, little fingers grasping repeatedly in her direction. Morrigan transferred him easily into the other woman’s arms when it was clear she wouldn’t mind holding him, allowing her to dryly berate the dwarf while Niamh comforted their son.

“So Morrigan says, yes,” the warrior answered with a shrug. “I originally turned down her ritual because I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting an innocent life to such a fate, but I can’t be mad at the result. I still have Leliana because of it, and I can see how much Niamh adores both Kieran and Morrigan.” Her smile softened. “She has a piece of the happiness that I always wanted for her—something Niamh felt she could never find in this world, terrible as it is for mages at times.”

Bethany couldn’t help but agree at the latter sentiment.

Looking at the three of them, they certainly did seem like a happy family. Still, Bethany couldn’t help but feel some small pang of envy. While she had discovered that Niamh could draw just about anyone into easy conversation with her, she was rather private about her personal life. It wasn’t until recently that Bethany discovered she was even in a relationship—let alone one involving another woman. She had no issue with the idea or with Morrigan for that matter. The other mage was well-matched with Niamh on the basis of intrigue alone, but…

Bethany bit her lip.

After all those long months together with Niamh, she couldn’t help but feel—

Bethany nearly swallowed her tongue when she realized sharp, golden eyes were staring at her over Niamh’s head—as if somehow reading her thoughts. Morrigan was tall for a woman of Fereldan origin, but not nearly as much as Saoirse. With her dark hair and pale skin, she was as bewitching as she was powerful—her magical aura a fount of seemingly endless, wild energy. Bethany almost felt like prey beneath the other woman’s gaze, and she averted her own nervously.

Thankfully, Morrigan made no comment about it, but Bethany did wince when she heard her suggest turning into bed early to Niamh. She and Kieran had arrived relatively late in the day after all, so they were no doubt tired from their travels. Niamh gave no objections, and they soon headed off to the woman’s personal quarters.

Bethany sighed soundlessly.

She was no stranger to infatuation. Her attraction to Leliana back in Lothering was a testament to that fact. Granted, it was also somehow deeply ironic that her commanding officer was now married to the same lay sister who had since gone on to become the Left Hand of Divine Justinia.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but think the Maker enjoyed toying with her in subtle, annoying ways. In any case, like with any other infatuation, she would just have to wait for the one she had on Niamh to run its course.

It couldn’t last forever after all.

---

Spoilers: it does.

---

During one of her occasional visits, Morrigan left Kieran temporarily in the care of Niamh to follow up on a magical lead involving some of her arcane research. As they weren’t needed outside of Vigil’s Keep for anything, Bethany also got to watch over him as well, and as she did, she brought up a question that she had long been curious over.

"You said you started the ritual with Morrigan when you were already a Warden, weren't you? I thought Wardens became barren after the Joining though?"

"Hm. That's the assumption, yes," Niamh said as she idly waved a stuffed griffon over Kieran, delighting the baby instantly as they laid on the floor together. "I’d been a Warden for a little over a year at that point. Perhaps it was still soon enough that infertility hadn’t affected me yet, or the spell did something to compensate for it."

Bethany just nodded as she looked over at the two of them. "I see bits of you in him."

"Do you?"

"Yes," she admitted easily enough. "There's his sweet nature, the way he seems far too clever for his own good at times, and how his eyes light up whenever he smiles or laughs."

Niamh chuckled, flattered over the assessment. "Morrigan and I are always arguing about it. I see more of her than me in him, but then she retorts that he’s retained my love of sweets and just about every known creature in existence." Her smile widened when tiny, grasping hands finally succeeded in pulling down the stuffed griffon in her hands, and Kieran wasted little time in snuggling the toy to his chest with a pleased hum.

"Do you regret not being able to see him whenever you wish?"

"Sometimes," Niamh answered, "but Morrigan’s mother…" She trailed off with a frown even as she ran a hand affectionately through her son’s hair. "She’s powerful, and she’s hurt her before. I can understand her caution. I’m willing to go years at a time without seeing them if it means they’re safe."

---

Morrigan eventually returns, and she takes Kieran with her to hide and do magical stuff as Empress Celene’s Arcane Advisor in Orlais as per canon.

Several months pass.

Although Niamh had professed to understanding the need for her little family’s relocation, the distance means that visits from them are now few and far in between. Bethany can see how much the other woman misses them and how she worries about their safety. She often catches Niamh distractedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

As if anticipating that, Morrigan does send letters to Niamh every now and then, and Niamh’s entire expression lights up every time she receives them, learning how the other woman and Kieran are fairing in Orlais along with how their son continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

She cannot fault the happiness Niamh has found with Morrigan, but it also serves as a constant reminder of what life will never offer to Bethany.

Eventually, it gets to a point where Bethany grows resentful of their relationship because her own feelings for Niamh are just so strong by then. It causes her to lash out at Niamh one night in camp, angry with how calm and positive she always is despite knowing they all have a death sentence over their heads.

---

"What world do you live in that you see it through such an idyllic lens?! You can wax poetic about this life all you like! I never asked for this! I never asked for the darkspawn to steal what little I had from life only to be made the gatekeeper against the very things I despise most in this world!"

And Niamh was quiet for the longest time, having stopped mid-sentence over Bethany's sudden tirade. As the silence continued to drift over their camp, so too does a veil of sudden cold air, and Bethany realized far too late that she’d crossed a line with the other woman.

"No one does, really," Niamh admitted at last, the warmth gone from her voice. "Save for Saoirse and my brother, I lost most of my family, but the terrible thing was that it wasn’t even darkspawn that killed them or even the Blight. It was just one man’s petty greed for what he felt was owed to him. He pretended to be my family’s ally for decades, and under the cover of night, he used his men to slaughter nearly the entirety of my bloodline. My parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew… He was only eight when it happened, you see. Oren wanted to a warrior like my siblings. He was trying to defend his mother with one of those wooden swords young boys tend to play with, but against the likes of Howe’s men...”  She clenched her jaw. “They gutted him just like everyone else."

Another pause stifled the air between them even as Bethany stared at Niamh, horrified.

"Darkspawn are terrible, yes, but they’re not always as terrible as people," Niamh said, eyes narrowing as she looked into the fire. "We can be so far worse. If I'm at all patient, it's because I try to be kind in a world that offers so little of it. I want to believe it can be better than it was before. I want this to be a better place for our people, but I also want to ensure that tragedies like that never happen again. That the people caught in the middle—victims of simple circumstance—don’t have so suffer. If it means I must be a Grey Warden in addition to a mage, then I accept it. To do otherwise damns them as much as me."

With that, Niamh then gracefully rose to her feet and headed back to her own tent, leaving Bethany alone at the campfire.

The rest of their journey back to Vigil’s Keep passed without much conversation between them despite Bethany’s attempts. Niamh only said enough to give a suitable answer, but she never offered anything more beyond it. A vault door had seemed to close behind the cool grey of the eyes that had long enraptured her, offering little warmth. It was clear Bethany was no longer privy to the other woman’s innermost thoughts and feelings

Niamh wasn’t petty, however.

She still hunted when necessary so they didn’t starve, and as was long part of their agreement together, Bethany continued to cook whatever game she caught. Other than that, however, Niamh offered no friendly greetings in the morning when they woke or any words that allowed her to wander off peacefully into the Fade as she slept.

Bethany didn’t realize just how much she’d miss them.

---

When they finally return to Vigil's Keep, Saoirse is confused by how quiet and despondent her sister seems to be. Given how amiable Niamh normally is, she has a right to be concerned.

She pulls Bethany aside one night to ask what happened since they normally get along so well, but Bethany and Niamh haven't even spoken a word to one another since their return.

Bethany ruefully explains the situation, but she doesn't reveal the actual reason why she lashed out to begin with. As such, Saoirse just assumes it was just the usual stress of being a Grey Warden.

---

"Ah. It happens to the best of us, really. Here." Saoirse handed Bethany a tin box. Something Orlesian, according to the script on it. "Leliana’s currently away on business in Val Royeaux, but she sends care packages out to me whenever she can. This one's for Niamh though. It's tea," she explained with a laugh. "She loves this stuff more than anyone else I know."

Bethany still felt badly over the situation however.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Oh, Niamh’s too well-mannered to outright ignore someone,” Saoirse insisted with a brief snort. “If anything, she becomes more… Well. ‘Distantly-polite’ as my wife would describe it. Besides, I have it on good authority that she never turns down a good cup of tea.” A lazy, conspiratorial grin played on her lips then. “Especially if there’s a spoonful or two of honey in it.”

That eventually culminated in Bethany making tea for Niamh that evening, who had been locked away in her office as of late. Bethany was still nervous despite receiving permission to enter the room, allowing her to face the woman who she hadn’t seen in nearly a fortnight. Concern grew within her when she saw the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes—a familiar indication that she had been working far too hard. She watched as Niamh struggled to blink the exhaustion from her eyes as she regarded her, but she otherwise said nothing, simply waiting to hear what Bethany required of her.

“I’m sorry," Bethany said at last, contrition clear in her voice. "This isn’t the life I would have wanted for myself, but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when you were merely trying to help.” She held out the still-steaming mug of tea in her hands—the very thing Saoirse had convinced her would make for a suitable peace offering. “Here,” she offered with a tentative smile. “If you’re going to be working through the night again, you should at least drink something.”

For a time, Bethany believed the other woman was just going to remain silent. It would have been well-deserved given how terribly she behaved the other week, but then Niamh reached out to gently take the mug from her.

"Thank you," she said at last, the ice slowly melting behind those wintry eyes, and as they did, Bethany could feel the vice around her heart gradually unhinge itself in relief.

---

Things pretty much go back to normal between them.

Niamh and Bethany are back on the road again, especially after several reports of wandering darkspawn near the outskirts of a town.

As expected, however, Bethany's longing toward Niamh is still there—constant as an evening star. Even with the taint of death coursing through them, Niamh’s aura emanates with so much life—like a forest in winter, cool and refreshing with the scent of pine buried beneath its depths, waiting to burst into spring’s lively greenery with just the barest spark of magic.

It fascinates her.

She often wonders if such single-minded focus is a side effect of the Joining other than the enhanced physical strength and the ability to sense darkspawn. She feels a hunger that is never sated, a thirst that is never parched, and also…

Amber eyes wander over to where Niamh is disrobing to bathe in the nearby river, and she catches sight of the elegant play of muscles along her back before she studiously turns her gaze away. She feels the way her face burns even as she feels something else stir in her veins.

---

While still traveling, they get attacked by some hapless bandits, and while the two women aren't hurt, they manage to lose one of their tents to a stray grenade.

They end up sleeping in the remaining tent together, but it’s small, and they huddle together inside it for warmth against the pouring rain outside.

Bethany is surprised when she unexpectedly wakes up in Niamh’s arms—one is around her waist, and the other is curled behind her shoulders—which pull her closer in sleep. Sometimes she’s amazed at just how warm the other woman is, and although she knows she should pull away to avoid any awkward conversations in the morning, she can’t bring herself to do so. This is probably as close as she’ll ever get to the intimacy she desires with Niamh, and while the moment won’t last forever, it’ll be one more memory she can cherish—something no one else can ever steal from her.

Idly, Bethany listens to the rain outside—now a gentle pattering instead of the rage of a growing storm—falling against the material of the tent, and the sound is so rhythmic that she begins to doze off again.

---

Sometime after that, they receive a letter from Stroud, who requests their assistance with a matter out in the Free Marches. Saoirse stays behind to oversee things at Vigil’s Keep, which leaves Niamh and Bethany to travel across the Waking Sea with Nathaniel as additional support.

They arrive in Kirkwall several days before the qunari invasion begins in full, but not long after they do, Nathaniel’s reconnaissance around the city reveals something terrible:

Bethany’s mother was murdered.

Bethany is understandably upset, but Niamh and Nathaniel do their best to comfort her. They end up holding a small wake in honor of Leandra.

By the time they manage to rendezvous with Stroud, the qunari invasion has already begun, and they’re caught in the middle of it, leading to the Wardens running into Emrys Hawke and her companions.

Emrys obviously wants to talk to her little sister, but Bethany is resistant to the idea since her emotions are still riding high with the news of their mother’s death and the ever-present resentment regarding how she was made into a Warden without her say so on the matter.

Niamh recognizes Bethany’s tension and politely tells Emrys to leave the matter be for the time being. There is little point in having a conversation if one half of the party isn’t ready to have it after all.

Running on adrenaline, the warrior objects and tries to push her out of the way, but Bethany retaliates immediately on Niamh’s behalf. She presses her hand against her sister's chestplate and essentially shoves her back several steps, momentarily forgetting her Warden strength. Both Hawkes seem surprised by the ease in which she can do that.

---

“Bethany?” Emrys uttered in confusion, especially as her sister outright glared at her.

"You do not accost Warden-Constable Cousland that way!"

“Wait… ‘Cousland?’” Emrys looked over to the woman in question, taking in the obvious staff situated across her back. A wolf’s head ornament adorned the top of the weapon in exquisitely-sculpted silverite, and her eyes slowly widened in realization, remembering tales of the mage who could bend the very heavens to her whims. “Wait, you’re the Storm Wolf of Ferelden? Sister to the Hero of Ferelden?”

The woman merely gave a long-suffering sigh in response. “I suppose I was being too optimistic in assuming Leliana’s tales would’ve lost their weight this far past Ferelden’s borders…”

---

Despite the chaos ravaging itself across Kirkwall, the Wardens can’t stay to help. As such, they’re not there to see the end of the invasion. It isn’t until Bethany returns to Ferelden with the others that she receives a letter from Varric, saying that Emrys nearly died in her duel against the Arishok.

While Varric takes the time to mention that Emrys is recovering, and that her bravery led to her becoming Kirkwall’s Champion, the idea that Bethany had nearly lost the very last member of her family is so shocking that she's left inconsolable one night.

---

"I was such an absolute wretch to her before we left, and she nearly died afterward!” she wept when Niamh came to check on her in her room. “She’ll never forgive me!"

The other woman’s eyes are sympathetic as she held her in her arms. "Don’t be so sure."

"How can you say that?" Bethany demanded as she looked up at her, eyes red and swollen with grief.

"I’ve seen the way you talk about her, Bethany. The memories stir up more than just hurt within you,” she explained. “They light your eyes up with joy in remembrance of them. I’m sure she misses you and wishes things had gone differently. She wouldn’t have bothered sending all these letters to you otherwise over the years.

"My siblings did the same when I was still in Kinloch Hold, where I often wondered if my family had forgotten all about me. There were times I feared my being a mage would have meant their love for me would have gone away, but it didn’t. I received letters from them all the time—sometimes over the most asinine things like Saoirse’s warhound tossing bits of her armor into the pig pen." Niamh rolled her eyes, but Bethany could see the fondness in her gaze before they refocused on her.

"Your sister has asked for nothing in return even in the times where you never sent word back. I won’t tell you how to resolve this. You were right in saying that no one truly asks for this life, but I believe she only had the best of intentions when she entrusted your safety to Stroud. Trust in that if nothing else, and if you still find the matter wanting, tell her so." Something sad and brittle lingered on the smile she shared with her. "The what-ifs hurt more than the reality of things at times. No one deserves that."

---

Niamh helps to cheer Bethany up over the course of several weeks.

They’re off in a nearby town, investigating more sightings of darkspawn, and Niamh goes downstairs to pay the innkeeper for breakfast while Bethany packs up some of her belongings to continue their journey. When she reaches for her staff, she blinks, startled to find an ice flower blossoming on the end of it. She stares in surprise at the door the other woman had left through because there’s no way someone else could have done this.

It's almost like something out of a scene from one of those romantic tales Leliana used to tell her back in Lothering. She had thought them nonsense at first—that surely no one actually did such sweet things in real life—but now…

Bethany gently brushes her fingers over the beautifully-conjured petals and leaves, feeling the cool aura radiating from them.

Now she’s not so sure.

---

During their travels, they’re ambushed by darkspawn, and in the middle of the fighting, the ground manages to crumble beneath both women’s feet. The fall is long and painful as they slide down an old mine shaft, and soon they find themselves down in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, it's an area they haven't charted yet, so they have no idea where they even are.

They have rations from the last time Niamh hunted and smoked some game, but they know it won't last forever. They can feel the press of darkspawn everywhere against their senses, and it's difficult to get any real bearing down in the tunnels because of it. The ambushes are sporadic throughout the days as they try to find their way back to the surface. They have taken to sleeping in brief shifts so they’re not caught unaware.

One fight lags on long enough that they have to retreat, but their enemies lead them right into the lair of a broodmother.

Bethany has never seen something so hideous in all her life, but when she turns briefly to Niamh, she’s disquieted to find the other woman looks more terrified than she's ever seen her. She barely has time to think over that before the darkspawn attack them again, but now they have the broodmother and her various tentacles to dodge as well.

The fight rages on for quite awhile, long enough that Bethany voices the thought they might never see Vigil's Keep again.

---

“No.”

"Niamh—"

"No!" she repeated firmly, glaring as she lashed out with an arm, incinerating an advancing line of darkspawn to their right. "I am getting you out of here! I swear it!"

You.

Not us.

What are you planning, Niamh? Bethany couldn't help but think worriedly.

Then she felt the sudden rush of magic—causing Bethany to almost stumble in place at the overwhelming sensation—as Niamh’s aura manifested itself more tangibly in an array of colors. Blinding arcs of lightning and lines of roaring flames raced across her form, and Bethany could see her own breath forming in rapid, exhausted puffs as the temperature inside the entire cavern seemed to drop even as the stone walls rattled ominously from the breadth of absolute magic being conjured.

The power of it was soon unleashed as Niamh slammed her staff end into the ground, allowing countless rays of energy to simply explode from her body. They radiated out like spectral hands of vengeance, and the cries of the darkspawn were nearly drowned out entirely as utter destruction rained down upon them. Each blast hit like deafening peals of thunder, and the echoes of them spanned for several long heartbeats, leaving Bethany’s ears ringing even after everything eventually fell silent.

As the dust and debris finally settled from the turbulent winds, she could see the other mage leaning heavily upon her staff, utterly exhausted. Each breath she took seemed to be a laborious effort, but Bethany watched as those eyes remained keenly alert to their surroundings, waiting to see if any of the darkspawn she had laid waste to would try and attack them again. They both tensed upon hearing the low, wailing groan of pain, and they looked to the far side of the cavern to see the broodmother still alive—albeit barely.

While already repulsive, it was now a macabre mass of flesh, bleeding sluggishly from the wounds inflicted by Niamh’s attack. Bloated skin bore severe burn marks, and entire chunks of flesh were missing. One of the broodmother’s arms had been severed completely, but the heat from one of the elemental attacks had unintentionally cauterized the fat stump even if Bethany grimaced upon seeing the pink-tinged bone that still protruded from it. The broodmother’s entire form seemed to slump back with what they assumed was her final breath, but then the sudden sound of earth breaking behind them alerted them far too late to a final danger.

Bethany turned her head just in time to see a lashing tentacle sprout from the ground, and her mind barely registered the sight of it before she heard the frantic call of her name along with warm hands pressing against her side.

"Bethany!"

As if time had slowed itself, she watched in horror as Niamh pushed her out of the tentacle’s swooping path, but in doing so, the other woman took the brunt of the attack entirely. Niamh was sent flying into one of the naturally-formed pillars of the cavern, impacting it hard enough that it broke at its center, raining rubble down upon the mage resting eerily still at its base until she was buried beneath it.

Bethany’s eyes remained fixed on the sight even as she shakily rose to her hands and knees. An overwhelming sense of disbelief overtook when her longtime partner didn't emerge at all out of the stone pile. In fact, there's a terrifying lack of anything in that direction.

Nothing of the taint in Niamh's blood.

No sound.

No magic.

Just... nothing.

Distantly, she could hear the half-dying moans of the broodmother somewhere beyond her peripheral vision. Although Bethany was all too aware of how dangerous her current situation still was, all she could feel was a staggering rush of absolute rage building inside her. It seemed to grow with every beat of her heart until she could hear it pounding inside her ears—a drumming sound of accusation over the fact that she had been powerless to help someone dear to her yet again.

It was her anger that gave birth to the sudden burst of power—whether a second wind or simply a dying gasp, she didn’t immediately know—but Bethany whirled to face the grotesque beast, magic already gathering within her hands. With an infuriated cry, she pressed her palms out, and she felt the immense displacement of air around her immediately as she summoned enough force magic to take up almost the entire space of the cavern. The pressure of it proved too much against the broodmother, and Bethany watched impassively as its enormous body was flung toward the far wall with enough violence that it was reduced to a grisly splatter of darkened blood, pulverized bone, and putrid meat.

With its death, Bethany felt the presence of darkspawn waiting beyond the cavern retreat even further, as if afraid of tempting her fury. Safe from any immediate threats, however, she wasted little time in rushing over to where she last saw Niamh. She used her hands and magic to try and dig her out beneath the rubble, but when she found her, fear took hold of her immediately when she realized the other woman wasn’t breathing anymore. Desperately, Bethany tried to use her healing magic in an attempt revive her, but to her utter dismay, the chest beneath her hands remained impossibly still.

“Oh, no…” she breathed. “No. No! You can’t be dead! Niamh, get up!”

But her cry fell on deaf ears.

Despite her best efforts, no matter how much healing she tried to force through the other woman’s veins, Niamh didn’t respond. As each minute continued to pass by in silence, Bethany began to wonder what she’d have to tell Morrigan if she ever made it back to the surface, let alone the little boy with Niamh’s kind smile. It would be such a terrible thing, she knew, informing them the woman they loved died trying to save her.

Just like everyone that ever entered her life.

Leaving before she even got the chance to give her goodbyes.

Bethany withdrew her healing magic and began conjuring lightning beneath her hands instead—the same way Niamh had taught her once upon a time—desperate for anything that could attempt to shock some life back into the other woman. Niamh’s body jolted with each burst of power, head lolling about along the dirt, but she still remained impossibly beyond Bethany’s reach—perhaps now wandering past the Fade and into the Maker’s embrace.

At the thought, her anguish soon gave way to anger.

“Damn you, you selfish wretch!” she shouted as she pressed her hand over the woman’s sternum with another pulse of electricity. “I never asked you to try and save my life! You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to just leave me here when I never had to chance to tell you everything! Not when you don’t even know I love y—”

Just as she went to jolt the other woman again, Bethany felt a hand firmly wrapping itself around her wrist.

Shocked, she looked up toward Niamh's face, especially as she heard a very weak cough. The other mage hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she saw how the still blue-tinged lips began to move—too soft for her to hear anything. Bethany lowered her head to listen more closely and soon heard a quiet question.

"...are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and fresh tears began to fill Bethany's eyes again in spite of herself.

Even after everything they had both suffered through, Niamh's first concern had still been solely for her.

With a shaky breath, she carefully curled herself up against Niamh’s form, crying silently even as she rested her hand against the other woman's stomach to continue and apply weak, healing magic.

That was how the other Wardens found them later.

"There they are."

Bethany didn’t pick her head up off the floor, but there was little mistaking Morrigan's distinct voice. Saoirse’s own followed soon after.

"I owe you my thanks for this, Morrigan."

“Thank your sister; I would not have been able to find her were she still not wearing the ring I gave her years ago.”

A weary chuckled greeted the mage’s words. “Ever the sentimental woman, my little sister…”

The sound of heavy footsteps treading closer caused Bethany to look up, and she could see Saoirse kneeling down next to them. The warrior’s face was worn with stress, but there was nothing but relief in her eyes as she saw them both together. "It appears I owe you my thanks as well, Bethany." She jerked her head up then, shouting out an order. "Get a litter for them now!"

"But I'm not nearly as injured," Bethany protested, drawing her hand away from Niamh’s body self-consciously, especially when Morrigan appeared and began to take over healing and stabilizing the woman’s condition with fresh magic.

"No," Saoirse admitted even as her lips lifted up into a tired smile. "But you and I both know what a terrible patient my sister is. I’ll be depending on you to make sure she behaves herself if she wakes up during our trek back to Vigil’s Keep.” She gently clapped a hand over Bethany’s shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you a debt.”

“Warden-Commander—”

“No. Niamh and I have lost enough in our lives. It would have hurt me to lose her as well.”

---

Niamh remains unconscious for several days as she recovers back at Vigil's Keep.

Bethany and Morrigan basically take turns looking after her.

Despite the other woman’s position as a member of Orlais’ Imperial Court, it seemed Morrigan returned to Ferelden after receiving a frantic letter from Saoirse, saying that Niamh and Bethany had been missing for several days following a routine mission.

As mentioned in the previous section, Morrigan gave Niamh a ring, which would allow her to find her were she ever in danger. It proved especially useful when Niamh and the other Wardens were imprisoned in Fort Drakon, where Saoirse essentially put her foot in her mouth and ruined their attempt to sneak Queen Anora out of the estate she had been held captive in.

I believe the ring is only canonically available if a player is in a romance with Morrigan. However, I’m headcanoning that because she held Niamh in such high esteem, she gave it to her anyway.

Kieran is also present at Vigil’s Keep because there’s no way Morrigan was leaving him behind in Orlais. He’s about five years old at this point, and he’s grown to inherit both his mothers’ looks. A crown of dark, loose curls sits atop his head much like Niamh’s, and he even fashions a forelock like hers, which hangs in front of his right eye. His gaze is a piercing shade of gold reminiscent to Morrigan’s own. As a possessor of an Old God Soul, he’s also begun to speak cryptically at times, which is understandably jarring to those around him.

Bethany happens upon one such conversation by accident, and she immediately pauses in the doorway when she sees Morrigan and Kieran standing at Niamh’s bedside.

“Sire was caught within the paths of the Fade, Mother. She heard the voices of old ghosts calling to her, but she didn’t follow them.”

Morrigan indulgently runs a hand through her son’s hair. “Indeed; she did not.”

“She missed them though, but she still returned to us.”

“Of course. Why would she desire an eternity without you?” she asked with a fond smile, causing Kieran to giggle.

“That’s not why, Mother! Not completely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She would have missed the Sunshine too much. She’s been following her warmth for years. It would have hurt her to be without it.”

Kieran’s words pull at Bethany oddly, but she soon pushes them out of her mind and quietly walks away, feeling too much like an intruder upon the small family.

Thankfully, Niamh regains consciousness not long afterward, and everyone is understandably relieved by this news.

As per usual, however, Niamh proves herself to be an exceedingly stubborn patient, but perhaps wanting to set a better example for Kieran after her near-death experience, she remains in bed for the duration of her recovery. The other woman doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially given that her son continues to keep her company, telling her of the various odd things he’s seen around Orlais and the even odder people.

After several weeks under Morrigan’s watchful eye, the witch begrudgingly says that Niamh's okay to begin light duty around the Keep, relieving the other mage immensely. She goes out herb-gathering, an excuse just to get out of the fortress, and Bethany volunteers to go with her.

Things are quiet between them for a time as they begin picking up elfroot to place in the shared basket between them. Their conversations as of late haven't been of anything too substantial. A good thing, Bethany thinks, considering her feelings for her and how close she’d been to revealing them. Soon, however, they're caught in the middle of a light rain shower, and Bethany says they should head back. She begins to lead their way out of the forest when Niamh’s words stop her in her tracks.

---

"I was waiting for you to say it again, you know."

Bethany looked over her shoulder in surprise to still see Niamh standing in the middle of the clearing, her gaze expectant. “What?” she asked nervously.

"When I nearly died, I heard you say something… significant to me,” she revealed, causing Bethany’s heart to pound as she stared at her in disbelief. “However, when I recovered and you never repeated those words again, I thought it might have been little more than a fever dream of mine." Niamh's smile turned sad then when Bethany said nothing else to her words. "Perhaps it was after all... I’m sorry. I’ve made this rather awkward then, haven’t I?” She took a few steps closer, reaching toward the basket of herbs Bethany still held in her hands. “Here, let me—”

But Bethany just let it drop to the ground before she reached out to grab the collar of Niamh’s cloak. The other woman seemed taken aback, but before she can even begin voicing a question, Bethany pulled her forward to kiss her desperately in the rain, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

As far as first kisses went, it was a touch awkward as their teeth clicked together, lips mashed between them. Bethany felt a moment of panic as Niamh pulled back, but before the urge to run away in mortification could overtake her, a warm palm pressed itself against the back of her neck, keeping her in place. There was the brush of knuckles as they ran along her jaw, and Bethany was just able to catch the silver of Niamh’s eyes before all thought fled from her mind upon feeling the soft press of the other woman’s mouth on hers.

Bethany followed into the easy guidance being offered, and they both soon settled into a comfortable rhythm that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. She felt light-headed with giddy delight, and her hands reached out to hold onto Niamh’s hips, helping to ground herself there, as their kiss continued. There was a soft sound as Niamh sighed contentedly into her mouth, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment between them.

The thought seemed almost too impossible to comprehend, especially when she knew Niamh was committed to someone else. As such, Bethany pulled away first despite the sound of protest it caused. Despite her resolve, Bethany was reluctant to pull away from Niamh entirely, so she settled for gently leaning her forehead against the other mage as they panted quietly in the rain.

"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, practically speaking the words against Niamh’s lips. "It wasn't my intention to interfere with your relationship with Morrigan."

As close as they were, there was little mistaking the clear confusion in the eyes across from hers. "'With Morrigan?'" Niamh repeated. "What does she have anything to do with us?"

"But… I thought—” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Aren’t you both together?"

"What? No," Niamh answered, almost amused by the idea. "When we laid together for the ritual, it was an agreement of mutual benefit meant only for that night. She's not—Well." An exhale of breath escaped her in the form of laughter. "Morrigan's admitted she's not interested in women—or anyone, really—in quite that way, but none of the male Wardens with us at the time dared to lay with her even if it meant sparing us all from death. She trusted me, and I her. I consider Morrigan one of my dearest friends, and we share Kieran together as a result of that night, yes, but we are certainly not bound together as others seem to believe."

And Niamh’s answer suddenly changed everything.

What Bethany had been feeling, what was now possible between her and Niamh...

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally realized she could have a bit of the happiness she’d always wanted for herself.

---

So everyone knows that they’re a couple after that.

Niamh becomes more overt in the romantic things she does for her—the very same things Bethany had thought were the woman simply being thoughtful. She finds out that Niamh had apparently been interested in her for awhile and had actually been ready to confess her feelings a few years ago, but their first argument, where Bethany had accused her of being too idealistic, had stemmed the thought immediately.

Niamh had been understandably heartbroken by the words, which was why she’d had been so despondent for weeks following the incident, believing Bethany had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. The apology in her office later had restored their friendship, and while Niamh had been disappointed it likely would never evolve into anything more beyond that, she was still determined to be a good friend to her if nothing else. 

Bethany’s completely exasperated at the idea that they could have been together long before now, but she realizes it was likely better this way.

She had needed time to get over her anger and resentment regarding her life as a Warden.

She needed time to get past her guilt and the complicated thoughts regarding herself and her faith.

And she needed time to grow into herself and discover who she was as a person.

She’s grateful that Niamh’s been so kind and patient over the years, and Bethany finds great joy in the new facet of their relationship together.

They’ve kissed and been involved in heavy makeout sessions around Vigil’s Keep—much to the exasperation of their colleagues—but barring the incident that led to Kieran’s conception, Niamh’s been celibate for years, and canonical dialogue in DA2 reveals that Bethany’s pretty much a virgin. As such, she’s understandably very shy and nervous about the whole thing. However, she knew every part of her would be in good hands with Niamh when they finally reached that point.

Their first time together takes place several months after their first kiss, where Niamh tries her utmost to make it a memorable thing for them. She takes Bethany to a grove they frequent together outside of Vigil’s Keep for a midnight picnic. The moon is full, and the skies are clear, revealing an endless sea of stars. Little fireflies dance over the surface of the lake while they sit on the grass along its shore.

It’s a casual reminder that for all their hardship, life goes on and finds a way through a magic all of its own.

They stargaze for and handfeed each other little bits of food in between kisses, but soon things start getting a little more heated. Niamh gently tugs Bethany onto her lap, who follows willingly, settling her knees on either side of the woman’s hips. Bethany takes some initiative of her own, pushing at Niamh’s chest slowly until she lowers herself against the grass, and then…

---

Bethany’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing Niamh’s features haloed by the soft glow of the little fireflies. Normally pale eyes had darkened at their edges with both pleasure and interest as she regarded her, leaving Bethany flushed, especially as she realized she doesn’t quite know what to do from there on out.

Perhaps having sensed that, Niamh reached up to gently run a thumb along the corner of her mouth, and Bethany barely resisted the urge to press her lips against the pad in a kiss as slim fingers then went to cup her cheek gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Niamh reassured as she brushed a few strands of Bethany’s hair behind an ear. “I quite like kissing you.”

But Bethany did want to.

She knew Niamh had more experience with sexual intimacy, and she worried she couldn’t be able to compare against the woman’s past paramours. There was no expectation in those starlit eyes however. Niamh was as relaxed as she had been when they first started, and Bethany knew she would have been more than content to lay with her beneath the stars if that was all she desired. She was always considerate with her feelings, never pressing her to do more than she was ready.

Thus, Bethany knew Niamh would be patient with her during their first time together.

“If I asked, would you show me what to do?” she whispered tentatively, and she watched as the corners of those lips turned up into soft smile.

“Always,” Niamh answered, gently tugging Bethany’s hand toward the buckle holding the front of her leather and steel-riveted brigandine closed. “Here. Help me out of this first please.” 

From there, Bethany quickly realized it all wasn’t quite as simple as the tawdry novels Isabela used to loan her made it out to be. Nothing really prepared for the warmth of the flesh beneath her fingertips as she gradually disrobed her lover of the layers that made up their Warden regalia. Fortune favored the bold, she knew, and she experimented by pressing kisses against skin as more was revealed to her. She smiled against Niamh’s sternum—pleased—when she heard the exceedingly rare quiver in her voice.

As promised, however, the other woman continued to give suggestions on what types of touches would best give pleasure, but she also allowed Bethany to set the pace of whatever she felt most comfortable with. With each encouraging whisper against her ear, each caress and rock of her hand became more confident. When Niamh shuddered beneath her for the first time—the barest hint of magic curling against her own—as she reached her peak, Bethany was convinced that she had never felt more triumphant.

And she didn’t think she had ever felt so unfettered when Niamh later returned the favor by kissing a line of fire down her bare body. Those mist-grey eyes never left her own gaze though. Bethany had long known how attentive the other mage could be. As their lead tactician, there was always a studious quality in how she approached anything set before her.

Feeling the full magnitude of that attention focused solely upon her, however, was another matter entirely. Niamh stared at her as if she had hung the very moon and the infinite tapestry of stars into the night sky. It was like she was her very reason for drawing breath, and the thought of that brought forth a stunning wash of emotions over her as she saw the clear reverence in those eyes—so much so that she couldn’t help the tears beading themselves across her lashes nor her soft, surprised exhale of laughter when Niamh leaned up to gently kiss them away.

It was only when she assured her lover that she was ready to continue that Niamh returned to her exploration. The woman was committed to learning every part of her, gauging every physical response—the touches that made her moan breathlessly or sigh in contentment with the press of lips against her skin—before reacting accordingly. She felt that dedication most vividly as a warm mouth settled between her thighs and began working itself thoroughly there.

Bethany couldn’t help but break eye contact with Niamh as she threw her head back against the cool grass, lost to the new but pleasant sensations coursing their way through her body. Her hips seemed to move of their own volition, especially as the almost overwhelming heat of a tongue pressed itself flat and lapped languidly at her.

After a time, it felt like she was freefalling, and she blindly reached out toward Niamh. One hand sank itself easily into the tousled waves of raven-black hair, but with the other, Bethany found slim fingers gently intertwining themselves with her own. There was strength and reassurance within the warmth of that grasp—a steady tether to ground her—even as Niamh continued with her ministrations, quickly unraveling the foundations of her world.

Were you the answer this entire time?

Were you the one whom my heart was always waiting for?

Bethany found her answer just as her climax crested over her.

---

The next scene takes place several months after Niamh’s and Bethany’s first time together but just before the Kirkwall Rebellion.

Niamh heads over to Amaranthine to see her aunt, Eithne Mac Eanraig, since she's the Arlessa there.

Now, here’s where I’m veering off from canon.

Per the events of Awakening, the Warden ends up becoming the Warden-Commander, and for their services during the Fifth Blight, Vigil’s Keep along with the entire arling of Amaranthine was given to the Grey Wardens. The fortress and the territory originally belonged to the Howes, but after Rendon Howe’s betrayal, all titles and properties were stripped away from them. As such, the Warden-Commander would also become the Arl or Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Per my headcanon though, Saoirse felt that she couldn’t tend to both her duties as a Warden while also ruling over the arling. Thus, she suggests to King Alistair to let her aunt oversee it instead.

While Eithne is technically my own creation, it was canonical that Eleanor had three siblings prior to marrying Bryce Cousland. All the children of Bann Fearcher Mac Eanraig—also known as the Storm Giant—were exceedingly skilled raiders although Eleanor was the most infamous of them. Still, I headcanon that Eithne’s own prowess allowed her to take over as head of the family and their impressive fleet after her father’s death sometime before the events of DAO.

I also headcanon that the Mac Eanraigs and their fleet proved instrumental during the Fifth Blight, allowing desperately-needed supplies to travel to the country without fear of them being intercepted by pirates. When the reconstruction of Ferelden began in full following the defeat of the Archdemon, Eithne opted to expand the services of her family’s fleet, offering to escort any incoming and also outgoing cargo ships. This allowed trade to flourish in Ferelden since the threat of piracy was reduced greatly against the might of the former raiding family and their respective crews. With goods being consistently transported and received, it led to the otherwise pricey import and export tariffs being lowered significantly.

It expanded the influence of the Mac Eanraigs considerably to say the least, and while they were of minor nobility compared to the Couslands, the family was already well-respected for their long connection to the Storm Coast and their role in the Fereldan Rebellion as well as the Fifth Blight.

As such, no objection was given by Ferelden’s Bannorn when the Mac Eanraigs were consequently raised further in nobility by the decree of King Alistair and Queen Anora, allowing Eithne to officially be named Arlessa to the city of Amaranthine.

---

"Aunt Eithne," Niamh began, walking into her office, "may I have access to the castle's forge?"

The older woman was sat behind her desk, looking through various reports when she glanced up at her. Kind, weathered features warmed instantly. "Ah, there's my wee Storm Pup," she said as she rose to her feet to meet her. "You know you’re welcome to anything within the castle, lass. I take it that blacksmith of yours is being stubborn at Vigil’s Keep again?"

As per usual, Niamh found herself looking up at her aunt as she rounded the edge of her desk. While her late mother Eleanor had been roughly her own size, the Mac Eanraigs as a whole towered over most people with their intimidating height and broad-shouldered frames—traits that Fergus and also Saoirse inherited as they grew into adulthood. In her youth, Niamh remembered that her Aunt Eithne had also possessed her mother’s pale blonde hair, but it had since turned silver with age and was now kept in a neat braid that dangled in front of her right shoulder. She imagined that Saoirse would likely resemble their aunt greatly in looks over the next few decades.

…provided they find a cure against the Calling first, of course.

Morrigan’s arcane research had turned up several possibilities, but the latest one she’d found seemed especially promising. Still, Niamh put the thought from her mind momentarily to answer her aunt’s question.

"You and I both know Master Wade won’t allow anyone to go near his forge. He’d pout for weeks on end before we could convince him to resume work again,” she said dryly before shrugging. “Just as well, I suppose. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. What I have in mind is more of a personal project."

Dark grey eyes blinked. "Oh?" she intoned curiously.

"It's... Well." Niamh shifted from foot to foot, a tad nervous to put her thoughts into words. "I'm making matching torcs for Bethany and I, so—oof!"

No sooner after she had stated her purpose did Niamh unexpectedly found herself drawn up into a crushing hug by her aunt, who lifted her clear off her feet with the force of it.

"Haha!" Eithne crowed with delighted laughter as she twirled her about. "Wait until I tell your uncles about this! Why, it’s been ages since we’ve had a wedding in the family!"

"We had one a year ago for Fergus and Olithia," Niamh corrected hoarsely as she tried to wriggle out of her aunt's grip to little avail. Corded muscles built over a lifetime at sea ensured the woman’s strength was nigh unbreakable. "And there was another for Saoirse and Leliana before that."

"Details, wee niece, details," she brushed aside when she placed Niamh back on her feet again, placing large hands over each of her shoulders with a grin. "Honestly, I was half-convinced my ashes would be scattered across the sea before I saw my last niece be married off! Dermot!" she called out loudly beyond the walls of office to her second-in-command, leaving Niamh wincing from the sheer volume of it. "Break out the casks! We’re celebrating tonight!"

Niamh merely sighed, somehow glad that Bethany was currently away from Vigil’s Keep with Nathaniel to tend to a matter out in another seaside province. There was no way she’d be able to surprise her with a proposal otherwise.

---

Bethany didn't know what to really expect when Niamh took her out to their favored grove, but then she was offered a… necklace of some sort. It was thick and sturdy but exquisitely-crafted. It formed an incomplete circle, but there was no clasp holding both ends together. As she took the necklace into her own hands, she found there was a certain pliability to it as she stretched the space between the twin, silverite wolf heads open a bit more.

"I spent weeks getting the details just right," Niamh admitted. "The hardest part was finding the perfect bits of citrine to match your eyes," she added, pointing to the small, gemstone orbs held in the maw of each wolf.

"You made this for me?" Bethany asked, awed.

"Yes. It’s a custom from the maternal side of my family. They’re generally gifted to those of status or individuals who have achieved great deeds. The more bands woven together designate one's importance." Niamh's expression turned somewhat sheepish then. "I don't think it needs to be said that I think highly of you."

Bethany looked at the thick braiding and saw that there were at least five bands wound together in a cord and then welded together.

"I..." Niamh wet her lips briefly, as if caught beneath sudden nervousness. "I realize marriage is usually just a matter of settling titles and heirs, but I believe you know by now that my family tends to eschew commonly-held norms. As such, I would consider it a great honor if you were to become my wife. As for anything official—a wedding for instance—we needn't concern ourselves with it right away. Not if you don't wish to certainly." Silver-colored eyes rolled themselves. "Honestly, my family uses any type of excuse available to throw a celebration. They’ll likely still drink the night away, knowing that I’ve finally settled down with someone."

Bethany couldn’t help but laugh at that. "They were that invested, were they?"

"Before you, they had a tendency to think I was more married to my duty within the Order, and I can’t say that were not wrong in thinking so."

"And that’s changed?"

"Well... I was managing day by day as well as any of our comrades, but I won’t lie in saying that there came a point when you were all I could ever think about in the many moments in between."

It was… quite the confession.

In an instant, all the stories her mother had ever told her of romance paled in comparison to this moment.

"Yes," Bethany said at last, watching as the ghostly-grey eyes across from her widened, but there was little hiding the hope building within their depths.

"Yes?"

"Yes to the—" She stumbled a bit over the word. "—torcs, you said?” Bethany asked in clarification, earning her a nod along with a very relieved sigh. “I don’t want a ceremony.” She bit her lip as she stared down at the thickly-braided necklace. “At least not just yet, but I like the idea of the promise these contain.”

“You would like to have your sister here when the time comes,” Niamh deduced understandingly. “Very well.”

“You can wait?”

A very warm smile burnished beautiful features that she had long fallen in love with so many years ago. “A Chuisle Mo Chroí,” she began, voicing an endearment that never ceased to make her heart flutter, “for you, I would gladly wait a thousand Ages and more.” (Writer’s note: A Chuisle Mo Chroí is phonetically pronounced Ah Khush-lah Muh Kree and means “Pulse of My Heart.”)

The words earned her a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. If Niamh noticed Bethany was trembling, she said nothing of it. In fact, they both had little to say at all as they slowly lowered themselves to the grass and surrendered themselves to the night and the promise of everyday thereafter.

---

The Kirkwall Rebellion still happens in this verse, and because Saoirse's busy butting heads with the higher-ups at Weisshaupt, she sends word to Niamh, asking her to go to Kirkwall to provide Leliana backup if things get bad. Bethany is concerned as well about the well-being of her sister Emrys, and she asks to go with her. Niamh, of course, can't really deny her anything, so they both take the fastest ship across the Waking Sea.

---

"There you are," Bethany declared when she managed to come across her sister and her companions despite the chaos around them. She settled her staff over her back, walking through the tangle of defeated Templars around her to meet them. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I'd almost feared you were dead."

Emrys hadn’t expected Bethany’s presence in the city, but she’s beyond elated to see her. At her words, the warrior merely preened. "As if they'd be able to best me. And, uh, what’s this about 'we?'" Emrys asked, confused. “Did you bring the other Wardens with you?”

“Just one.”

As if attuned to her thoughts, Niamh made her entrance then by Fadestepping through a handful of Templars—who had arrived on scene as backup—freezing them in their tracks. She and Bethany had momentarily split up to try and cover more ground in search of Emrys.

Bethany arched a brow at her sister while gesturing toward her lover with an emphatic wave. "You remember Warden-Constable Cousland, don’t you?"

Emrys had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as she recalled their last meeting, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she regarded Niamh. "Oh. Yes. Uh, about the last time we met—"

But Niamh seemed amused more than anything, waving aside the apology graciously. “Bygones, Champion. No need to worry yourself about the past. My sister’s a warrior as well; I’ve fared worse on the rare occasion."

"In any case, Sister, if you need help, we’ll gladly give it."

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” Bethany swept a bit of hair behind her ear nervously, but as Niamh settled alongside her, offering her wordless support, she continued on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened down in the Deep Roads and for how we parted the last time I was here. You saved my life, but I couldn’t see past my own anger back then. I’m sorry,” she whispered, contrite. “I should have said it long before now. You’re all I have left of our family, so if you need help against the Templars, say the word.”

Emrys looked beyond thrilled at the prospect of having her at her side again. “I’m certainly not going to turn away help now of all times, but…” She shot a look of confusion over toward Niamh. “I thought Wardens weren’t to involve themselves in political matters?"

The other mage merely sighed. “While true, that follows a line of policy that my sister and I strenuously object to, especially given the matter involved here. She and I will deal with the leadership at Weisshaupt later if need be." Slim shoulder shrugged themselves then. "Of course, even if my sister-in-law weren't nearby, Bethany wanted to help, and that was good enough reason for me to be here."

Emrys’ dark brows rose at the claim, and she immediately turned a searching gaze over toward Bethany, who couldn’t help but turn her own away, flushing somewhat.

"Yes… Niamh and I are a bit of a package deal these days."

Unfortunately, the minor shift in movement allowed for something else to be revealed, and Isabela took notice of it immediately as her eyes darted toward the area of her neck just beneath the collar of her uniform.

“Wait… is that a torc?" she asked, brows raising, impressed.

“A what?" Emrys asked, flustered, especially when she saw the matching one that Niamh was also wearing.

“It's a little bit of tradition from my mother’s side of the family,” Niamh explained. “They’re beautifully-crafted pieces of jewelry, but they can be as symbolic as rings, especially in the ceremonial sense."

"'Rings?'" Emrys parroted with a choke. “‘Ceremon—’” The warrior paled instantly as she realized the implication, shakily pressing her hand against a nearby wall to steady herself when she began swaying in place. “Oh, Maker’s breath… I think—I need a moment,” she murmured, and Bethany watched—concerned—when Emrys practically folded in over herself, working to catch a breath. After a time, Emrys’ comically-wide blue eyes turned over to Niamh. “You’re married to my baby sister?"

"Engaged, technically," Niamh answered, blinking owlishly at her reaction. “I proposed to her before we left Ferelden."

---

Annnnd then Saoirse shows up because she got worried about Leliana, and she and Emrys get along like peas in a pod. They’re exceedingly competitive with one another though...

---

“Hah!” Saoirse crowed, grinning smugly at Emrys as she rested the flat of her greatsword along her shoulder. “Is that the best Kirkwall’s Champion can do? I managed to neatly cleave my opponent in half.”

Emrys merely scowled, matching pace with Saoirse as they marched toward The Gallows. “Only because I helped! Besides, that strike wouldn’t have held against him if he had a shield as well!”

“Yes, it would have!”

“Lies!” Emrys scoffed. “It would have been caught halfway through the shield before you would have been able to reach his armor!“

“Not with the proper leverage it wouldn’t have!”

As they argued heatedly about sword techniques, Niamh and Bethany shared a long-suffering glance with one another before moving on ahead of their respective sisters.

“Warriors…”

“Indeed.”

---

Eventually, this all culminates in that huge battle at the end of DA2, where Meredith is defeated. As per canon, it becomes clear that it’s no longer safe for Emrys and her companions to remain within the city without eventually facing possible repercussions from the Chantry. As such, they begin scattering to the winds not long after the end of the rebellion.

---

"You could come with us, you know," Emrys suggested.

Bethany looked over to where her sister stood next to Isabela, ready to board the ship that would take them to Antiva. Emrys’ expression was almost painfully hopeful, but Bethany knew it wasn't meant to be. Although she had resented it once upon a time, she had a duty to the Wardens, and she would not easily abandon it. She said as much to her sister.

"No. Niamh currently seeks a cure that affects the lives of every Warden."

"A cure for the Calling?” she asked, surprised. “Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is easily the cleverest person I’ve ever met though. If there is a solution, she will be the most likely one to find it, and I will not stand to be apart from her."

"I see.” Emrys rubbed the back of her neck, shoulders slumping somewhat. “So… this is goodbye again."

It was admittedly a bittersweet feeling, knowing that this had been the first time in years they had seen one another and it would likely be several more yet before they would meet again.

"For now,” she answered quietly. “You have your life, Sister, and now…" She glanced over at Niamh, who was talking to the captain of a ship heading back to lands far to the west—ones that had never been touched by the Blight, according to Morrigan. “I have mine.”

Emrys followed her gaze. “You seem happier."

"I am."

“That’s all I ever wanted for you, you know? Just to know that you were happy.”

“I know that now." Her smile turned more genuine as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Emrys, hugging her for all she was worth. "I wish the same upon you always. Safe travels to you and Isabela, Sister."

---

And as mentioned in the bullet points up above, they spend several years traveling abroad. Some days are harder than others as they meet their fair share of challenges, but Niamh and Bethany support each endlessly through it all.

They both return to Ferelden several years after the Trepasser DLC when they’ve found a cure for the Calling. With the taint purged from their bodies, they’re guaranteed the long life that would have otherwise been denied to them. As such, Niamh and Bethany finally get married—torcs gleaming bright—as Leliana as Divine Victoria officiates the wedding.

---

And that’s pretty much it.

I have about 20 pages of random scenes I’ve yet to elaborate on for this AU, including one for the huge battle at the end of DA2, so while I don’t see it as being nearly as long as OtSttCA, it’ll likely make for quite the lengthy read when I finally get a chance to work on it properly.

Still, if this verse interests you, leave me a like, a comment, or just swing by my inbox to tell me your thoughts! Until next time, readers! Take care!

[batarella]

The Bullet: A Sequel to The Commander - Part 2 (Jason Todd x Reader)

THE SMUT STARTS HERE. THO THIS ONE ISNT ACTUALLY FULL ON SMUT, YOU’LL KNOW WHAT I MEAN. 

ALSO, THE FIRST SCENE IS THE RED HOOD AK DLC!!!

WORDS: 7649 WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, FIREARMS, SURVIVOR’S GUILT, SMUT (hihi)

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

Jump.

Glass shattering beneath his feet, the Red Hood dove in from the unknown above and landed meticulously on his knee and fist onto the cold hard ground. Black Mask’s goons were quick on their feet, but it wasn’t without the chilling spook instilled into their beating chests that came with every one of his unsuspected appearances.

“I would run if I were you!” Red Hood grabbed his two hand guns and open fired at the incoming company. About ten of them in the room, to his estimate. They brought out their fists, trembling no less, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be up to a fight. The vigilante started with the left. Leaping towards the black masked goon, he slammed the back of his gun against his head, whilst narrowly avoiding a hit from another. From behind, he could feel another about to take him, so he let the thug grab him before he laid it on him with a series of elbow shots left and right until his body was too limp to even move. He threw him from behind, over his back, then Red Hood shot him in the head.

The others must have thought he wasn’t really going to willingly kill. Surprise, surprise. He was.

Another three shots at one of them. He backflipped, landing a kick to a man’s chest before he shot his neck. He turned around and hit a head with his closed fist. A fucking barrel of gasoline came flying to his way. At the last second, he grabbed it with both arms and hauled it over to two heads. “You better hit harder than that!” one of them said.

“You get points for trying!” Red Hood sputtered as he fired his guns at an onslaught from three men just about to collapse. Then the gate started to rise. Reinforcements. Now, we’re talking.

Two of them had electrified sticks in their hands. Cute. Just like the ones from the militia. He just aimed at their head and in no time, they ended up on the ground. A dozen of them were after him now, and without much of a fight, Red Hood slowly took them out one by one, leaping in the air, landing a kick or two at one before jumping to the next to land his fist at wherever. He stunned one of them, then right before any of them could interfere, he started landing a run of punches right to his chest, more than enough to fully take him down. Then he used his body as leverage to pull himself up, before hitting his head stronger than any concussion he could survive with.

A few more. His ammo was barely even out. He kept firing at anyone coming close to him, with his hits getting stronger and faster the more he landed a hit. He dodged one just as he was about to be grabbed and pinned to the ground, so with a flying kick, the thug’s body was sent to a wall.

Three. Two. One.

One more.

Red Hood walked over to the trembling Black Mask goon and grabbed him by the collar.

“Where’s Black Mask keeping the goods?!”

“You want information,” the man coughed. “Read a newspaper!”

“Wrong answer-“

The gun he held up to his head sent his arms flying and his whole body shaking beneath Red Hood’s hold. The man gave in. “Okay, okay! At the Docks! He’s keeping the guns at the docks!”

“Appreciate that!” Red Hood slammed his head with hi gun, landing him onto the floor, then without further thought, he placed a bullet right into his skull.

Penguins shipment must have just arrived. The docks shouldn’t be too far off.

-----

She didn’t stay in the hospital longer than the doctor forced her too. He hadn’t slept. Demanded to be placed in the same room as she was. He told himself he was okay enough to take care of her when he was just as equally in need of help. But he ignored the pain. She needed him.

Jason walked over to her hospital bed. She wasn’t even asleep. She was sitting up, knees folded up to her probably aching chest. Her eyes have never looked so empty and dead. She was cold to touch, her eyes dark circled with bags and bloodshot. She didn’t turn to him. And if there were tears, they had dried out after the past nights of endless torturous crying over something she couldn’t go back to.

When Jason reached for her hand, she broke down. For the hundredth time, she cried. And even when he could feel the guilt pulling her away from letting him hold onto her, he mustered up all the strength he could, held her to his chest and felt the tears seep into his clothes. It stung. Everywhere. On his skin, and within his chest no medication could reach.

-----

The weapons were all at the docks, alright. Black Mask couldn’t have made it more obvious. Never mind it saying ‘Gotham Hardware’ at the middle. His goons had their masks on stupidly as if a big fat ‘Illegal Shipment Happening Here!’ neon light up sign was flashing through the street.

Red Hood climbed up a metal beam and turned on his heat censors.

“You’re all about to discover crime doesn’t pay…” he whispered.

One of them had a bullet proof vest. There were eleven of them. All heavily armed. He’s going to have to take all these morons out silently.

He started with the bullet proof one. Might as well get him over with. He grappled over to the center, grabbed onto the ledge just below the railing where he couldn’t be seen.

Then when the man walked close enough, Red Hood flipped himself over to let his feet land onto his head. He twisted his neck with his incredibly strong thighs, then his fist met his face. One down. He fired his gun at an armed guard who caught sight of him and he was down after just three shots.

His own bullet wounds started to sting, but at that point he barely went through a day without an injury just slightly holding him back. Red Hood swung over to the control area where the beams were to be moved around and crouched down before one of them saw him. He hid behind a weapons crate, waited until he was inside, then just as he was out of anyone else’s sight, Red Hood crept up from behind and outrightly snapped his neck. “Worthless ape,” he muttered.

Another one nearby. He just shot him in the head when he wasn’t looking with the gun right up against his temple. The fifth one was all the way to the other side, just by himself, so he took out both guns and fired mercilessly at his chest. He fell over the ledge and his cold, bloodied body was spilled out onto the ground.

The others started finding the bodies. He heard one of them scream his name. Red Hood waited behind the crates for another to climb up a ladder, then he snapped his neck again just to keep his silence. He left him on the ground.

Not one of them had managed to land a hit on him yet. He was starting to get bored. Through the night, taking advantage of their fear and the darkness to his favor, the Red Hood terrorized the whole of the docks, sending one body lie cold after another. Some of them, he just subdued, but when he felt like it, he snapped their necks or placed a bullet into their heads. Tonight, he was so feeling it.

Turns out a lot of them wore bullet proof vests. Didn’t mean he killed them any less viciously.

Two of them huddled together by doorway. Red Hood grappled up, flipped over the railing with the goons’ backs turned to him, then without any of them taking notice, he grabbed the back of one’s collar, flipped him over to the other one’s body, then when both were on the floor, he shot them.

The last one, the same as the other, on the ground shivering as Red Hood approached him with a big hand gun coming for his head. His voice was clear through his visor. “I want a word with your boss, Black Mask. Where is he?”

“You ain’t gonna kill me! You ain’t gonna kill me!!!”

Damn Bruce’s moral code and how it’d affected Gotham’s crime monkeys. This wasn’t the first time they taunted him for not actually being able to take lives.

“Do I look like Batman to you?” he growled. “Rethink your answer before I fill you up with lead…”

The henchman mustn’t have been paid too much because he immediately gave in.

“Downtown. In his office. But you ain’t gonna kill him. He knows you're coming, freak!”

He slammed his visor onto the man’s black mask. On the ground, through the eye holes, Red Hood could see what every man had on their eyes before death came in to consume him.

“Good,” he said, then he shot him in the chest.

-----

Nothing has ever hurt more.

It had already been a few weeks. She hasn’t let him do so much as touch her. Never. Never has she ever been so distant, so consumed in her own guilt that even he didn’t have an answer to. He can tell himself it wasn’t her fault as much as it wasn’t his. But he knew, she knew, that at the end of the day, it was her doing. And he was never going to outrightly admit that. And even if it was true, when at last, he does believe it was because of her, he’d already forgiven her. How couldn’t he?

How could he let all this built up anger get the best of what they had? She meant everything to him, always had. And now, she was solely the only thing he’s got. He can't let this take over what they had. But he couldn’t even tell her that. Not when she hadn’t spoken anything over the littlest words of bland acknowledgement, yes or no’s every now and then. She hasn’t kissed him, held him. But when she does speak, it’s in cries of bitter horror asking him for the forgiveness he never wanted out of her.

Laying on opposite sides of the bed, he stared out into the window. She wasn’t asleep. He could tell. Jason shifted in the bed so he could face her.

The sheets formed her figure, and he could see just how beautiful she was even in such sadness. He really, really wanted to hold her. Because as much as this was hurting her, it was hurting him, too. They’d both lost. And they were supposed to be in this together.

He reached out to her shoulder, and after letting him touch her for the shortest moment, Y/N moved away. He fell asleep that night, only out of exhaustion, with endless tears flooding their pillows.

-----

The pain. It never faltered. Never hindered with anything he’s ever sought to try.

It was always there. Every bullet he shot, every neck he’s snapped. It all goes back to everything he’s lost. Everything he’s ever loved. He reached Black Mask’s office and he’d been mindlessly firing his bullets at everyone who was in his way. He didn’t care, never gave anyone much of a thought. He wasn’t a hero, but he was killing villains. Fuck what he was. He didn’t have anything to hold onto anymore.

Red Hood got to a group of unarmed men, and with a long stretch of his neck, he gripped onto his guns, head craned down. “Useless dogs,” he growled. Then already he’s flipped one of them over to the ground at a hard slap against the side of his face. He fired his guns, left and right, then flipped over so his feet landed on someone, anyone’s face. Their fucking masks on were practically to no use. He used to them hit their heads harder, as if the butt of his guns or his fists already weren’t enough. A number of them were scattered around, but not one of them landed a single hi-

A large blow to his back. He almost-almost­­-fell to the ground, but he stretched out his spine, turned around, and the goon in question was backing away from Red Hood’s obviously larger frame. He blew his brains out before he could move any further. Two of them went after him at the same time, and he flew in the air, grabbed their heads, then smashed them against each other.

The doors flew open.

Roman Sionis. Black Mask. In an untainted white suit. Probably his worst enemy. The man, not the suit. The crime lord held out his fists and screamed, “Big mistake coming here! Big mistake!”

Red Hood rolled his eyes, then dodged just as a sniper’s red laser managed to get a good shot of him. He jumped, his leg landing against two necks cracking beneath his boot. “This is gonna hurt,” Black Mask said.

“Blah, blah, keep on yapping,” Red Hood fired two shots at him and jumped over to another henchman just about to hit his head with a lead pipe. Alternating between his fists and feet, Red Hood took them all out one after the other, shooting at Black Mask when the last bullet wasn’t enough. He flew in the air, he jumped against walls, he moved so swiftly not one of them could catch him in the middle of a strike. One of them got too close to an electrical control box and he slammed his head into the board.

When at last, Black Mask was the only one left, his henchmen’s bodies scattered about on the floor, Red Hood, growling beneath his breath, grabbed the smaller man by the collar and hauled him up in the air.

“Black Mask,” he said. “You shoulda left when you had the chance…”

Red Hood pushed him against a glass window, and he held onto the one hand on his neck.

“Y-you don’t need to do this,” he trembled. At least his men put up more of a fight. This coward didn’t even take long to give in. “Whatever you want! Please. I’ll take a plane. Leave Gotham. Never show my face again. Anywhere you want. I’ll go anywhere!”

As if that’s ever done any good for anyone.

“How about you go to hell…”

His boot, right up against his chest. Red Hood pushed him into the window and it broke at the impact. Roman Sionis fell to his death five stories above ground.

“Say hi to Joker for me…”

-----

For the first time in weeks, Y/N crawled over to his side of the bed, his chest warm and naked and all the tensions, his muscles frozen over, it all felt infinitely better at her touch. She wrapped her arms around his body from behind, her chin against his shoulder. “I love you…” she said into his ear.

Jason held her arm and placed a kiss onto her wrist. He felt tears seep into his chest. And that was all there is. Maybe, this was the first step at getting better. He closed his eyes, hoping tomorrow had something better in store.

He never realized that was her saying goodbye.

Jason woke up to an empty bed.

No.

No. No. No. No.

Everything was gone. Her clothes. Her guns. All her stuff. It was all gone. It couldn’t be… She would have been preparing for so long.

But everything was still there before he went to bed. Even her toothbrush was gone from the cup on the sink. How could she have taken everything and wiped out all traces of her in so little time?

No. Fucking no.

He tore up the apartment. He looked through the only three rooms they had. Nothing. Like she was nothing but a dream he’d conjured up this whole time. The most wonderful, dangerous dream.

Jason sank to the ground, hands trembling on his phone as he called her but to no end, no one answered.

-----

It was raining by the time he’d snuck out of the building. Out into the alleyways, where the winds were disrupted even when his hood concealed most of the cold, he leaned against the wall and stretched out his back, hand over his abs to feel for any of the stitches possibly ripped apart or any sigh of bleeding. There was a sting, but nothing too much to worry about.

Twenty-thousand dollars. Right inside a cash box in Sionis’s office where a bunch of them were counting the bills. He took them out and flashed through them with his fingers before stuffing them deep into his pants. He’ll have to get out soon. It wouldn’t be too long before they’ll find the bodies.

Red Hood walked into the alley; head faced down into the darkness. He placed his guns firm into his holsters and hissed his way through the pain. There was nothing much left for him to do. Black Mask was dead, probably the one asshole he’s had to deal with the most, other than Penguin and the rest. It had always been Sionis who he’s messed with for more than two years now. He finally killed him. After all this time.

He didn’t know what was about to happen next, what happens to his empire. He and Deadshot used to take them out one by one. Gotham’s biggest crime families. Just two days ago, she took out Sal Maroni, the last of her debt to Falcone. And what usually happens was that their money, their weapons cache, their drug crates, they all usually get turned up to the police.

Further down the alleyways, he found a place where he could change and take off his visor.

His feet stepped into the puddles into the cracks of the ground and the raindrops fell seeping into his clothes. He stopped when he saw a dark figure standing in between the walls of the alley not so far from him. As a light from a car passed by, he saw bright flashes of blue glisten from his black suit. And in his hands, the figure held onto two escrima sticks.

Red Hood’s hand went over to his gun, then he heard something else from behind him, jumping from one of the rooftops. He turned around.

Red and yellow. He could see it from the lamppost enlightening the other side of the alley. A domino mask on his face. A long Bo staff held over his shoulder.  

Nightwing and Robin stared at him from opposite ends, then they made their way to the center.

Red Hood didn’t even flinch. “This is why I have two guns.”

He grabbed the two from his holsters, holding them out to opposite ends, then started firing at will at wherever he could. Nightwing flipped over his back, missing the bullets, then Robin jumped towards a trash bin to avoid the shots.

“Jason!”

“What the fuck do you assholes want now?!”

He kept firing, then Nightwing was first to climb out from hiding, swiftly running sideways against the wall. Red Hood focused fire on him, then when he felt Robin come up from behind, he turned around to swing his arm, but Robin ducked just in time.

A kick to his back, from Nightwing’s stupid leotard-covered leg. Red Hood fired his gun at his direction but Nightwing had flew up in the air, the way only an acrobat can do, and landed his knee against Red Hood’s visor.

“You killed Black Mask!” Robin screamed.

“You can't hold anything against me-“

“We just saw you come out of Black Mask’s hideout with fifty other dead bodies!” Nightwing tried to grab him in a headlock, but Red Hood butted his head into his nose and elbowed him out of the way.

Robin tried blocking Red Hood’s blows with his staff, spinning it around to create some sort of shield from his hits. Nightwing landed a few hits on his shoulder with his own sticks, but Red Hood didn’t falter.

Until he was hit right in the stomach by Robin, making his knees tremble at the shooting pain until he kneeled to the ground.

“You fucking replacement-“

“Nightwing, watch out!”

Red Hood shook off the pain, started for the wall so make him run right up to it and spin around, open firing at every direction he can aim at.

“You two can fucking try.”

“Jason, just stop!”

“Why the fuck would I stop!?”

“Come with us to the safehouse-“

He almost shot Nightwing in the shoulder if he didn’t move in time. They kept leaping, dodging his bullets, then Robin started for his limbs but he could only land so many hits.

“Why?! Because Bruce is gone, you think I’m just gonna come crawling back to you?” he snorted. “I don’t believe for a second that that dickhead’s dead.”

“Why would we lie about that?” Nightwing said.

“You people lie about everything!”

“Jason-“

“You, shut up!” He pointed the gun at Robin. They’d stopped fighting. They just stood each other off, hands up. Robin held his head high despite the muzzle being pressed right against his forehead. “You don’t get to talk.”

“Robin’s only trying to help-“

Red Hood laughed a grim, throaty chuckle. “I want either of you morons to pinpoint the exact point in time when I asked for your fucking help.”

“This isn’t how we do things-“

“This is how I do things. I don’t play by Bruce’s stupid code anymore. And I swear, the next time you show up bringing this with you,” he shuffled the gun against Robin. “I’ll put a bullet into both your skulls.”

“Jason-“

He shot the ground just where Nightwing was standing. The older man breathed, panted at the sight of near death. He looked up to where Red Hood’s eyes would be. “Either you come with us, or we take you to the police. You’ve killed too many.”

“Good luck catching me.”

“Commissioner, do you copy?”

GCPD’s radio signal. It started blaring out from Nightwing’s communicator loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Two vehicles on pursuit. We have eyes on Deadshot driving a pizza truck in Drescher.”

“Sending coordinates.”

Nightwing was just about to turn off the radio when Red Hood spun around, kicking both of them in the knees, before popping out a smoke bomb.

He grappled up to the roof. “Where the hell is he going?!” Robin yelled.

Red Hood didn’t give them a second look. He jumped up and around from rooftop to rooftop. He could feel them coming his way, either to put him down or see why he was suddenly so keen on brushing them off.

He turned on his own comms.

“Attempting rolling roadblock.”

“She’s losing control. Calling for backup.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. The woman can drive a tank but she has no idea how to drive a fucking pizza truck.

He turned his head back, with Nightwing and Robin still on his tail. Pulling out his gun, he started firing at them but kept his speed.

“We’re coming with you!”

“This is my fucking fight, Grayson! Just stay away!”

He jumped into a roof too far for his feet to reach. Grabbing onto the edge with just his fingers, Red Hood barely pulled himself up. Nightwing’s leaner physique and acrobatic abilities allowed him to backflip through the distance and Robin’s cape helped him glide much more smoothly. He snorted.

A bike. Just nearby at the sidewalk. He jumped off the side, hands and feet slowing his descent towards the ground, and as swiftly as he could, Red Hood reached the ground and jumped onto the vehicle. He started the ignition, and just before the two could reach him, he’d sped off into the streets.

-----

Maybe going after one of El Penitente’s drug houses wasn’t such a good idea when cops were in the middle of a gathering in a nearby pizza parlor.

And maybe it wasn’t a good idea to steal one of the trucks to get out of the place just because she couldn’t find a single bike nearby.

This time, she wasn’t there on an assignment. She chose Penitente’s Cartel because of their operations reaching out to an elementary school. Of course, it wasn’t without stealing from one of their cash boxes. She wasn’t in this for free.

But it didn’t matter how much money she had on her now when she was running for her life, driving a damn pizza truck around Founder’s Island with three police cars on her tail. The roads were roaring of sirens, car horns, noises. She took a sharp turn at an intersection and the truck almost fell over at the weight. Fuck.

“Attempting rolling roadblock,” she heard one of the cops say into an intercom. She stepped on it, and running past the traffic with the cars steering out of the way. She cursed repeatedly as two cars started to surround her sides.

So she turned into an alleyway barely able to fit the truck inside. Running over trash bins and sacks and probably a cat that was too slow to get out of the way, the police cars came up behind her. She was met with another road, then she turned to the side, facing the incoming traffic. FUCK.

Left. Right. Left. The truck was fucking heavy. Like she was actually lugging it around. She managed to steer into the right side of the road without running anyone over and stepped on the gas. She was running out of fuel. As if the world hadn’t already been so cruel to her.

As she passed an intersection, the cops caught up behind her.

A motorcycle, speeding like a bullet to her side. It caught her attention as she heard the driver yell out to her. She glanced at him and almost choked at the sight of a red hood.

“Fucking-“

“PULL YOUR WINDOW OPEN!”

“GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!”

But as she pushed on the gas, Red Hood only seemed to go faster. “DEADSHOT!”

“LOOK OUT!”

Red Hood swerved just as he was about to hit a pole. Then he kept to her side, slamming his fist against the car door. Deadshot turned further away from her and saw the cops coming nearer.

“JUST LET ME IN!”

“NO!”

Red Hood grunted, then he disappeared. She turned left and right, away from the cars too slow to move out.

Then before she could notice Red Hood coming from the other side of the truck, he had leapt all the way over to the window, pushing his boots against the glass so it broke upon impact. Deadshot blocked herself from the shards, then shot him a deathly glare as he sat on the passenger seat.

“MISS ME?”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“EYES ON THE ROAD!”

She turned before she hit an old lady on the pedestrian lane.

“What are you trying to do?!”

“Helping you. You can't get out of this alive.”

“Excuse me?!”

A police car, just at her left, so close to coming to her window. “Shit-“

“Let me drive-“

“I can take this!”

Another sharp turn, then the truck was so close to falling over, they felt the weight on themselves.

“Okay,” she gulped. “You drive.”

She climbed over Red Hood’s lap over to the passenger side, then Red Hood took the wheel, slammed on the gas, then sped through the roads.

“Won't use your whole arsenal of weapons on your back?”

“I’ve sworn off killing cops.”

He swerved just enough to hit the police car’s left side. It skidded into the road, but not enough to stop it. “What do we do?”

“We’re gonna crash this thing!”

“What?!”

“Got your grappling gun ready?”

Crime Alley. He’s headed for Crime Alley. The cars around them were frantically turning around and they were practically running on two wheels at this rate. Why did she have to pick a fucking truck?!

“Get your gun and fire at the air!”

To scare people off. They’ll set themselves aside. Deadshot grabbed her pistol, pointed it at the sky just outside her window and started firing relentlessly into nothing. People were screaming out of the way, and the cops started calling in backup. One of the pedestrians jumped onto the sidewalk just as he crossed the road and another threw himself at a window for safety. The streets have never been so chaotic.

But then again, this was Gotham. It continues to surprise itself.

“On my count, shoot at the windshield!”

Deadshot held onto her gun like her life depended on it. At the sharp turn over to a corner, just for the split second they were out of the cop’s sight, Red Hood fully turned the wheel until the truck finally gave out and fell onto its side.

They grabbed onto the seats, holding their heads. Sparks started to fly out onto the now secluded streets and the truck drifted against the ground. “Now!”

She fired at the windshield, then they both kicked at the glass with their boots. Two grappling guns shot out onto the nearest rooftops it could reach and they fled out of the truck just as it skidded into a sidewalk and crashed.

And just as the police came to the scene, Red Hood and Deadshot had disappeared.

The cops went up to the truck.

“Thought you said those guys broke up?”

“They don’t exactly keep you updated on vigilante relationships on TMZ, now do they?”

-----

She couldn’t possibly think he’d just go away after that.

Crime Alley. It was deserted, despite the fact that at this time it should already be littered with thugs and maybe a robbery somewhere if you looked hard enough. Deadshot landed her feet onto a puddle, followed by another set of boots slamming against the ground behind her.

She started walking towards the light, at the streets, but she felt a hand reach for her shoulder.

So the first thing she did was turn around and kick him in the chest, right where she knew the bullet wounds would hurt the most.

“Fuck!” he landed on the ground. “What was that for?!”

“Why can't you just leave me alone!?”

“I saved your life-“

“I didn’t need you to save it!”

Red Hood got up to his feet and ran in front of her, stopping her from walking any further. “Lately you’ve been out of control-“

Deadshot scoffed under her white mask. “So you decide to play the hero and step in? Stir trouble over at the other side of the city in Chinatown so they’d leave me alone? Or kill Black Mask right before you knew he was about to hire me the next day?!”

“I’m not sayin-“

“Say it! Say I’ll be dead without you! Convince me that I need you so much so I’ll come crawling back!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do!”

“Then what!?” her muffled screams echoed into the darkness.

“Is it so wrong that I’m looking after you!?” He stepped forward and his larger body pushed her back.

“I don’t need you to look after me.”

“You think you can fucking stop me?”

Deadshot pushed his chest with her arms, but he caught her wrists, twisted them so she’d fall off before she could grab him.

“I swear. The next time I see you following me-“

“You’ll what?”

Deadshot looked up at his visor and stared him down with what little he could see of her eyes. Her optics glowed, and she hoped it blinded him from such close distance.

“Just. Leave. Me. Alone.”

“You’re insane-“

That’s it. This asshole’s gonna pay.

A swing of her leg, right against his head. Red Hood flew over to the wall and Deadshot grabbed his jacket to fling him over to the other side of the alley.

“I’m not here to fight!”

“I wasn’t either!”

She ducked before Red Hood’s arms could come and grab her, then she started for her leg, pulling him down to the ground. With his boots, he kicked her down, grabbing her with her mask so he could push her against the wall.

“Don’t ever call me crazy-“

“Then what is it with all these suicide missions!? You trying to get yourself killed?!”

She held onto the hand grabbing her collar. “Shut up!”

A knee managed to reach up to his chin. Red Hood backed off, stretching his jaw, then Deadshot started flinging her fists over to his visor. Some he could block, some he couldn’t. Her punches got stronger but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Not without her guns.

Red Hood grabbed her fists and pushed her away, then with his arm, he grabbed her into a headlock really making sure she couldn’t squirm out of it.

“Enough!”

A gun. She managed to grab one from her holster. She slammed it against his head and shot up into the sky, right up against Red Hood’s ear.

He hissed at the noise for the slightest split second, then pulled out his own gun.

Right where they were two years ago. Pointing their guns at each other when both of them knew none of them would pull the trigger.

“Put the gun down,” Red Hood said. “You really gonna shoot me?”

“I just might.”

She wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t. Even with the mask over her face, he could see her features soften the way it did when she was looking at him.

So Red Hood lowered his gun first, dropped it to the ground.

“Go ahead.”

Fuck.

She hated it when he did this, challenge her into doing something so vile and cruel just as he did at the militia. It was nothing more than when he’d ask her to put a bullet into someone’s skull when he felt like it.

She wanted him to take off that fucking visor and look at her right at her face when he did this.

Deadshot dropped her gun, then her hands went over to her head just to squeeze the pain out of her scalp.

“Fuck!” she growled.

“Y/N…”

Jason raised his visor and his hood.

How his eyes screamed out to her, asked her to be calm, to be how she would be towards him if they weren’t in this alley. The look that had always been the one thing she could hold onto, to keep her on the ground and at the same time fly her all the way up to the sky.

Y/N took off her mask.

And she turned around before looking at him just became too much.

“God…” she whispered to herself. “What have I done…”

“Come back to me… Please…”

“Jason-“

He stepped in front of her, backing her against the wall. She looked up and all she wanted to do was kiss him.

“I want you back… Please come back.”

“Jay-“

“I blame myself just as much as you do.”

“You told me so,” she bit back the tears, the crack on his voice. Looking up, his face getting closer to hers. “The look on your face when we were at that hospital…”

“I’d never say that…”

“I’m so sorry…” she cried. Something was blocking her throat from coming up with any else for her to say. Jason’s gloved hands, though stiff and cold, felt comfortable holding her face. She held his wrists. She wanted them there. So much. But further more and she’ll never be able to let go. She tried to pry them away, but his hold was too strong.

Fuck, his breath. His voice. His face. She wanted to have him, pull his hand and go over to her place for the night…

“You're the only one for me-“

“Don’t go there-”

“You are.”

“I said don’t.”

That’s when Jason froze at the pursing glare shooting right from her eyes and onto his own. She grew stiff, then started to push him back.

“I was clearly not the only one-”

Jason exhaled a long, shaky whip of air. “What?”

“You think you're the only one following me around?” she scoffed. “I saw you bring in a few women into the apartment.”

“You left me-“

“Don’t go around saying you were so fucking loyal-”

“Y/N, they meant nothing.”

“Don’t say it,” she breathed. “It’s a surprise you still claim not to be over me at all.”

A hand to his chest, but this time he stood firm.

Then it was his turn to push her body against the wall.

“You have no idea…” he growled against her face. Actually growled. Low cracking at the pit of his voice. His breath hot, right up against her mouth. He made sure his body guarded around her so she couldn’t move. His chest, pressed right up against her. “Those women I’ve used… Just to get over you…”

She was shaking, not so much as terrified as she was feeling some kind of surge up to her head. His voice, it was comparable to a lion’s before it pounced at a gazelle.

“You know how much I hate putting myself out there to people I don’t trust but I was fucking ruined after you left. So I tried it. Just a few times. I kept my clothes on. I didn’t let them see or touch me. But I fucked them. Exactly like we used to the first time. Just to see if it could make me forget you.”

“Jason, stop-“

But his arms caged around her. She shut her eyes, felt his nose trail up to her forehead. She didn’t want him to feel how much she was trembling. Not at fear. No.

Jason’s lips, hovering over hers so intensely close. She could feel them touch, ever so softly just enough to feel the friction but not hard enough to actually kiss. Y/N wanted so badly to close the distance between them.

“I tried so fucking hard, then I ended up screaming your name when I came-“

“Fuck, Jay.”

Still, she couldn’t move, though her efforts to do so were getting less and less.

“Then I realized you’re the only one I’ll ever want to fuck. You know why?”

With his arms, so large and enticing, he flipped her over so she faced the wall. She tried to keep off the wet cement but Jason was pressing against her back.

She could move now. Out of the way. Push him back and leave for good.

But, god almighty, she didn’t want to.

His head came up to Y/N’s shoulder, and with her hand, she touched the side of his face. “Why…” she asked him.

Jason pushed his hips against her ass.

“They couldn’t get my cock to be as painfully hard for them as you do…”

“Shit,” she moaned, his breath painfully hot against her neck.

“They weren’t as soaking wet for me as your pussy gets even when I just breath into your ear… Just like this.”

And he did just that, whispering against her ear despite her hair in the way. Y/N was up against the wall, cheek against the cement.

Then her eyes rolled to the back of her skull when Jason reached in to cup her pussy. “Oh!”

Not being touched for so long, she just might cum right then and there. If he moved even the slightest bit, despite all the layers of her suit, she’ll cum. “Fuck!”

“It doesn’t even come close when I had you bent over my desk being fucked like you weren’t the Commander of my militia army-“

She tried to grind against his palm, closing her eyes, imagining just that memory she’d memorized despite the years.

“And when they came,” he pressed a finger further into her hole despite the gloves he had on. “It’s not as fucking satisfying as watching you shake and scream out my name… even with just my fingers.”

When her pussy lips had opened up enough for him to feel her clit, his fingers firmed up, then he started slowly rubbing over the thick layers of her suit. She cried out, but he kept his mouth too far for her to conceal her moans with.

“That’s it…” he breathed against her ear when she kept grinding. “You miss this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” She grabbed his hair and pulled to make the goodness ease up, but she was so fucking wet, she could hear it even from there. Y/N pressed her forehead against the bridge of his nose, then Jason started digging his teeth into whatever skin she had that was exposed near her jaw. “You’re mine…”

“Jason…”

Police sirens. Coming from outside the alley. They stopped and turned their heads to wherever the sounds came from.

When the car had passed, Crime Alley was empty.

-----

From above one of the buildings at Drescher, Red Hood and Deadshot stood over the ledge, watching the police frantically go about the city in search for them. They looked like ants from where they stood. Red Hood kept his hood on, but his visor was up.

Hands on their sides, feet on the ground as if ready to just jump onto the ledge from right across, they took in at how the city was, quite literally, at their feet. They weren’t welcome here. They were despised. But they were needed. In their own, sick little way.

Jason didn’t look at Y/N as he was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he swallowed. “I don’t know what came over me…”

“It’s… Don’t apologize.”

Jason reached over to hold her arm, expecting the same rejection as before. Her pushing him away, backing off, leaving before anything else were to happen.

But she welcomed his touch. A flood of cool relief went over his body when she did. Y/N, without her mask on, closed her eyes and touched his hand with her fingers over his skin.

Then he pulled her closer until his arms were fully around her, encasing her into his chest. She did the same and hugged his neck so tightly, it didn’t even matter the suit he wore or the armor between them. Jason pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed, feeling her body, her warmth that he yearned for so much.

Hands on the sides of his face, thumb brushing over the brand on his cheek, Y/N broke down. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop that.”

“I made you lose everything…”

Jason pulled her even tighter, then his lips met her cool skin.

“Only when you left…”

He let go of her waist so he could look so deeply into her eyes with his hands holding onto her cheeks.

“If it’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone. For good. It’s your choice now…”

A tear down her face. She closed her eyes before any more could seep out and fall.

“But if you come over to the apartment tonight, I swear, I’ll never let you go again, no matter what you or anyone else does to keep us apart.”

She kissed him, lips unmoving yet still so powerful and silent. The cold Gotham winds couldn’t pull them apart. Nothing can. If she chooses not to…

When Jason left, she was at the rooftop for hours on end, fighting against herself for her own life.

-----

Not a single light turned on.

His eyes were bloodshot. From the past three bottles of booze he had at the side of his bed. The last one he’d thrown against the wall.

Encompassed with the same cloud of loneliness, defeat, helplessness that he had to succumb over the passing months, it had been hours. For just the slightest, yet slowest moment, he thought she would actually give in this time.

But he should have known. Her stubbornness. Her will. He never should have expected her to come.

Then, he guessed, this meant it was over.

Love. A fucking torment to his life he never should have given into.

Another bottle would help.

Still just a bit tipsy, Jason walked away from his bed, hand on the wall, then he walked over to the kitchen to grab one from the fridge. He tore the cap open with his bare hands and drank almost a third of it in one gulp.

Hands over the counter, he closed his eyes. This wasn’t the reality he had to face. It couldn’t possibly be.

He was so into his thoughts, he almost completely neglected the light coming in from the bathroom.

Jason walked over to the bathroom door to turn it off before going to bed.

Only to stop his tracks when he saw her, through the slightest creek of the open door, her back turned over with her hair undone and over her shoulders.

Fuck.

Y/N must’ve known he was watching.

Because she took off her suit, slipped it off her arms, then her bare back stared at him so deliciously perfect and waiting for his lips to kiss every part of it.

Fuuuuck.

And she took so long just fixing her hair, head ever so slightly turned to his direction. Jason stood frozen, jaw on the ground, then he swore he had to hold back a small yelp when she bent over to take her pants off, along with her underwear. She even arched up her back to make her body look even hotter than it already was.

Completely naked. Beautiful. Absolutely flawless. Y/N didn’t glance behind her when she walked over to the shower, then let the boiling hot steam fog up the air.

Fuck.

Yes.

Not too long after, Jason slipped out of his clothes, pulled the glass door of the shower open.

Then when Y/N looked over her shoulder, he shut it behind him.

 -----

MASTERLIST

THE BULLET MASTERLIST

-----

everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc@multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises@egdolan@xemiefx @arkhamtoddler@elsenthal@mythicbitchx@supremehaunter burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherriesshadowsndaisiesriver9noblezphilophobiazannoylinglyaries@knightfall05x @l-horizon11flowersgirl02

[aricazorel]

I was tagged by @noire-pandora Thank you!

This is from a future chapter of my Dragon Age story "Anchor: Ripples" featuring Cullen Rutherford and Anyssa McBride. The third in the Anchor series it centers around their lives after the end of DA:I and the Trespasser DLC.

Read Anchor: Ripples here on AO3

~ ~ ~

“Cullen, why is Mia writing me about staying with them after you retire?” Anyssa’s voice filtered through the bathroom door that he had left ajar. “Do you know something about that which I don’t?”

He toweled dried his face as he rolled his eyes. Of course his sister would read more into his inquires than he had meant. As he put away his shaving kit, he called, “No, sweetling. That is simply my sister wishing things would move more swiftly than they are.”

“But why make the offer at all if we have not made any concrete plans,” the historian noted as she stuck her head into the bathroom. “Unless you mentioned something to her that indicated otherwise…”

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered as he met her curious gaze. “With my last letter all I did was mention an extended visit after my retirement. That was something we have discussed. She took it to mean more than it did.”

Anyssa pushed the door open further as she leaned against the door frame. A grin spread across her features as she said, “I should watch you shave more often.”

“You didn’t even watch me shave this time.”

“No. But I’ll use any excuse to see you shirtless.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I was unaware you needed an excuse to see that.”

“I suppose I don’t now,” she admitted contentedly. “But why bring up an extended visit in the first place?”

Cullen let out an exasperated sigh. “To placate my sister. If I continue to sporadically mention plans to visit after I retire, she lets other…sensitive topics go.”

“Sensitive topics?” McBride echoed with piqued interest.

“I—ah, that is while they say they are not pressuring me to ask for your hand in marriage, the subject matter of their letters and their tone suggest otherwise,” Cullen admitted slowly as he moved towards her. “And by ‘their’ I mean Mia. She hints that Bran and Rose think we should marry sooner rather than later.”

“I have written to Rosalie and I know for a fact she has set a personal goal of being married before you and that she doesn’t actually care if we get married or not,” the historian stated firmly. “All she requested was that you keep me because I can keep you in line.”

“I suppose that is a reasonable request even if that is not the only reason for us to remain together,” the Commander conceded as he leaned forward and rubbed his freshly shaved cheek against hers.

“I still like your stubble more,” she murmured as she placed her hands against his bare chest.

“Give it a day, Nys,” he teased as he placed his hands on her hips. Making lazy circles with his thumbs, he added, “I am sure it will be worth the wait.”

“It usually is,” she replied with a grin.

“Usually?” he echoed with feigned hurt in his voice.

“It always is,” she corrected as she bounced up on her tip toes and kissed him.

Cullen chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers. “I only want to be with you. How we go about that does not matter.”

Her expression shifted ever so slightly. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, it would have been missed. “So even though you don’t think its required, you won’t ask me?”

Cullen paused, wanting to make sure he knew exactly what she was referring to. He had made the mistake of assuming before and it had caused an unnecessary misunderstanding. “Before I answer, you are referring to my sister’s not so subtle wish for us to marry?”

Anyssa nodded but said nothing. He sighed. “Nys, we have discussed this already. We both agreed that marriage was not a condition of us remaining together. We both agreed that if we had children it should be after the Inquisition. I thought we had not discounted the possibility of marriage though. Have I misunderstood?”

“No,” she replied quietly.

“But?” he prompted her, knowing the issue was deeper than she led on.

“I thought—It’s stupid,” she quipped as she began turning from him.

“Nothing in that beautiful mind of yours is stupid,” the former Templar assured her as he pulled her gently back to him. “Please, Nys, tell me.”

She made a face of reluctance as she admitted slowly, “I just—It’s silly and sounds so contradictory to what we already talked about and agreed on.”

“I have found that many things in life are contradictory,” he said as he hooked as finger under her chin, tilting her head up. “However, in recent years I have found the things worth the most involve contradiction. Usually between what one thinks and what one feels.”

“It’s just that I always wondered if someone would want to marry me. If they would even ask and then Bryan happened…and I stopped wondering,” she said softly. “But coming to Thedas, I remembered wanting that but realizing it wasn’t necessary. If I met someone who wanted to be with me for the right reasons then it didn’t matter. We’d be together no matter what and a ceremony or official piece of paper didn’t really matter.”

“Like that ridiculously, absurd official announcement Josephine insisted on?” Cullen asked with a smirk.

“Yes. Just like that,” she agreed. “But I suppose I just wanted to know if you’d consider it at least…”

“Well, why could you not be the one to propose?” he asked with a tilt of his head. “You said such things occurred on Earth. I have heard of a few instances here as well.”

“You wouldn’t take offense to that?”

“Anyssa McBride, you know be better than that.”

She wore a sheepish grin. “I suppose I do.”

Tagging @raflesia65 @shadoedseptmbr @commanderadorkable and anyone else who wants to play! As always, no pressure, just fun!

[bustin-a-hazelnut]

RAIN's ARC 4 Predictions - Part 2

So, here’s the second half of my theories on what awaits us in RAIN’s finale. I made sure to keep this one shorter & less detailed, because most of them are pretty vague & self-explanatory, and long paragraphs of this would simply be a drag to read through. No survival percentages either, as I don’t expect many casualties on the “team good” side.

Team RAIN

To start off, I fully expect our guys to win the day, eliminate the Braith threat & stay together as a team of young hunters, ready to face off against new challenges (but am not adverse to the idea of a final, that isn't a traditionally "happy ending").

Robin’s big struggle is bound to be facing & defeating Kamala.

Her fears of loosing more people could cause some disagreements (particularly with Marron), but I expect those to be resolved & for them to stay happily together.

Robin’s newly realized main motivation of being kind & doing good could very well drive her to reach out to some of the more “redeemable” Braiths & offer them a chance to give up on Kamala’s masterplan & start anew.

There’s gonna be more focus on Irving, now that his family is involved.

His & Nyssa’s “archnemesis” among the Braiths is Viola (much like Kamala is Robin’s), so it’s nice to see them face off against her.

Romance between the two of them will continue gradually developing (plz give me some precious lovebird moments ; _ ; )

Nyssa has a talk with her mom about Pitch ahead of her.

I don’t expect her to show any interest in seeing him again, though.

When it comes to Akane, I sorta draw a blank, but I fully expect her storyline to be heavily associated with William (I’m not holding out my hopes for a classic romance with a happily ever after, but the chemistry between the two is undeniable).

The Lincoln Clan

While on the subject of Willl, he’s the one I have quite a bad feeling about – the way I see it, he could very well become one of the arc’s casualties. Not many in-comic clues for this that I can think of, but his overall troubled personality, complicated bond with Akane, lack of positive connections to other characters – it just gives me this sense of danger looming over him (needless to say, I don’t want anything like this to occur, but a theory is a theory).

My precious daughter Lilliana is bound to finally open up about her struggles & get a fucking friend.

Seriously, I have very little idea of whom it’ll be or how it’ll happen, but it has to. I’ve waited since reading the first comic pages that featured her, & I believe I’m not about to be disappointed.

The only certain thing I know I am hyped about is her facing Artemis once she is rescued.

There is also her majorly unnoticed connection with Pitch, but I’ll leave that for his section of the post.

Tobin is probably about to come out any moment now, and I firmly believe, that when it comes to Braiths, her & Viorel will get a heart to heart, and she could very well get a proposition of a lifetime from them. Of course, they could be using it to manipulate her, and uncovering their plot/outsmarting them could be a chance for her to shine. I’m not sure how it’ll work in the plot technically, but these two interacting is too good an opportunity to pass up.

I expect Artemis to wake up from her coma – she needs to learn about Tobin, and also finally be confronted with Lilli's storm of emotions & realize how badly she’s fucked up with her girl (and, y’know, work on fixing it).

However, the damage she suffered will probably prevent her from fighting ever again.

I am not sure how, but Roderick will regain his courage & play his part in bringing the Braiths down. I won’t say he’ll survive for sure (the idea of Maylis as a lord seems to be favoured by some), but at the same time, killing many more members of Robin’s family feels like too much.

I’ll group Marron here, since she is basically Robin’s family at this point – it would be nice to see her gain more independence & not just stay “the love interest”. She embarked on that path already when she stood up to Sterling, and should definitely go further in that direction: take more initiative, express opinions, that don’t necessarily correlate well with Robin’s – altogether, be her own person more than just "main hero's girl".

The rest of them

The remaining free members of the Crazy Bunch (Bianca & Rufus iirc) will probably get tracked down – if Kamala can spare any manpower to silence them. It’s also possible for her to just forget about them, since they aren’t likely to confront officials about the Braith threat, and if her plan is successful, they’re going down with the rest of humanity regardless. I like the idea of them sharing the Braith money & just laying low & enjoying themselves offscreen, while the final battle breaks out.

Beyond learning more about him from Maera, Pitch isn’t likely to play a role in the plot again. I have very little hope for him making another appearance, but if that could possibly be, Lilliana has to be the reason it does (since Nyssa’s already had enough of that man for a lifetime).

I don’t think many people paid attention to it, but there was clearly some sort of semi-bond between Lilli & Pitch – probably due to them both being the clan’s outcasts. Even though he’s about to be dragged away, it’d be nice for her to seek him out & go absolutely apeshit into his face about betraying her family (and lowkey betraying her personally).

Though it’s unlikely, I would love to see more between these two – they’ve known each other for years, Pitch might as well have trained Lilli in combat, and it would be nice if he displayed any kind of emotion at realizing she fucking cared whether he’d be around or not.

“The Wishing Well” bar we’ve been teased for the first post is likely to be the place where Jin-Shi, Nyssa & Irv look for Raleigh.

I’m not sure how he’ll influence the plot surrounding Irving’s family & Viola, but once he learns what happened to Otso, I expect him to help our heroes track him down to get more info from him, consecutively causing them to stumble upon Tahlia & Gardner (as already stated, definite plot points aren’t my strongest suit, but this is how I believe they could all come together).

Please wrap my man Otso in a fucking blanket & let him have a heart to heart with Raleigh & regenerate his eyes in peace you people, I am fucking telling you-

I’ve left team JNPR for dessert, namely, because of Jin-Shi Pan – I don’t really have any guesses when it comes to Nanako, Petra or Isambard.

For now, she’ll likely busy herself helping Irving & Nyssa deal with Viola & her welcome party. But there’s a mystery regarding her, that’s been mentioned, but never elaborated upon – her lost friend, Ninety Nine, whom Nyssa promised to help in searching for.

In any other case, I’d say, we are being teased a dlc/spin-off of the main story. It might just be a part of her past, that isn’t going to come up again. But once again, I just have this hunch, that we weren’t told that for nothing. Perhaps a clue will be found somewhere down the line; perhaps some new character will surprise us with their connection to Jin. I don’t know, and this is admittedly the weakest theory on the list, but it’s here nonetheless.

And this is it for my arc 4 predictions. Gotta say, I’m proud of myself for meeting my deadline & finishing it before the first post of the arc. All of my thoughts on it have already been stated, so without further ado, I wish everyone a very exciting part of our beloved comic by @neopoliitan!

[sparrowsabre7]

Ok this was in my drafts from ages ago and I forgot to post so it’s here now: 

So with Arkham Knight completed I wanted to discuss the story and some of the things I liked about the plot.

For my money Arkham City is the most entertaining of the series plot-wise. It is wide in scope, incorporating a large group of Batman’s rogues, with a lead villain who has a commanding presence. It is the quintessential Batman plot, full of twists, focusing on his dynamic with the Joker and is a big ‘ol actionfest.

Arkham Knight’s plot on the other hand is quite pedestrian by comparison looking at the villain plot: Scarecrow wants to take down Batman and cause chaos in Gotham and a mysterious new villain appears to help. From this standpoint, Arkham Knight is nothing special. However, as a character study of Batman, it goes much deeper than any of the previous games, and deeper even than any of the films. Most of those dealt with “Why does Bruce Wayne become Batman?” whereas Knight asks the question “What does it mean to BE Batman?”

In this respect “Be the Batman” is more than just a marketing tagline. We really delve into what makes Batman and Bruce Wayne tick and their relationships with the world, their allies, and enemies.

We’re going to delve into big spoiler territory now so be ye warned.

Batman in this game is in an interesting place. Crime is supposedly lower than ever when Scarecrow’s plan starts falling into place, yet he’s hitting criminals harder than ever, working tirelessly in his war on crime. His modifications to the Batmobile make this immediately apparent, adding numerous heavy weapons and armour. One of the unlockable Arkham stories indicates that adding more weaponry has been something Batman has fought for years, according to Lucius, but he had a change of heart some point between City and Knight. We learn soon enough that Batman is on borrowed time. His blood is still infected with Joker’s own and is actually beginning to turn him. This is his last assault on crime, one final push if a cure cannot be found. As a result, he is pushing his allies further away than ever. This alienation was seen in a small way in the epilogue DLC “Harley Quinn’s Revenge”, keeping Robin at arm’s length and mostly avoiding contact with his allies entirely.

This is one of the key themes of the whole game and, personally, if I were to choose one word to sum up Arkham Knight it would be “family”. “Asylum”, “City”, and “Origins” were all solo efforts on Batman’s part, with some input in his ear from Oracle and Alfred, and a brief appearance by Robin. This is the first game to really have the Bat-family on board proper and this really informs a lot of the game and Batman’s motivations.

He pushes them away because he knows he’s dying. He pushes them away because he wants them to get used to the idea of him being gone. Most importantly, he pushes them away because he believes this will keep them safe. This is underlined when Scarecrow’s fear toxin kicks in. Thanks to the hallucinations provided by it, we are shown two of Batman’s greatest failures in his eyes, along with his raison d’etre: the crippling of Barbara Gordon, the torture and murder of Jason Todd, and the death of his parents. The former two are clearly never far from the dark knight’s thoughts and show why he genuinely does fear for his allies safety. This ends up, in the obvious ironic twist, putting them in greater danger. By keeping them at arm’s length and withholding his plans, the Batman is a less effective force. He doesn’t consider that they are safest together, working as a team. His allies come to his rescue a couple of times during the course of the game, Nightwing saving him from Penguin’s thugs, Catwoman saving him from an unwinnable fight against The Riddler, Oracle aiding him during the defence of the GCPD and Robin not saving him per se, but defusing some of the Johnny Charisma’s bombs while Batman is unable to move.

Another key subplot is Batman vs Joker. Even after his death, through his blood and the fear toxin, Joker is resurrected as a hallucination, a dark Jiminy Cricket pestering and needling the caped crusader at every turn. This is the ultimate Joker, no less potent for not being “real”. He represents everything Batman hates and fears, because he is not only The Joker, but the darkest parts of Batman’s mind, all the what ifs, the maybe should’ves, all of this tumbles out of Joker’s mouth, taunting the dark knight with his own insecurities. It shows Batman’s human side a lot more than any previous game, shows he can be afraid, he does have doubts, can fail, can falter. This is something which clearly plays across his mind throughout the game and leads him to the ultimate conclusion of the game which I will touch on in a bit.

The Joker has always been key to the Batman mythos. He was that in Batman #1 so nearly as long as the Batman has been in existence. Having him manifest as a facet of Batman’s subconscious is both a neat narrative trick (and way to skirt the “Joker is dead” thing without cheapening the end of “City”) and a useful dynamic in explaining who Batman is. Much of his existence has been spent battling The Joker and it’s clear that there is a side of Batman in “Knight” that almost misses him in a sense. His presence also plays up the yin-yang of their relationship and eventually culminates quite literally in a battle in Batman’s psyche.

Near the game’s ending Scarecrow unmasks Batman and injects him with a heavy dose of fear toxin. This causes Joker’s personality to be brought to the fore but at the same time empowers Batman’s own power of fear, showing the clown prince of crime his own greatest nightmare: being forgotten. This is ultimately delivered personally by Batman, bursting from the shadows of his own mind and subduing the Joker side, locking him away forever, enforcing this with the time tested phrase “I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Batman.” This is said, as another blogger pointed out, as much to himself as to The Joker. This is a declaration that he is Batman, he is no longer Bruce Wayne. To paraphrase “Batman Begins”, as Bruce Wayne he can fail, be killed, and simply die, which is when we come to the ending.

Upon the final villains being rounded up he initiates the Knightfall protocol and removes his mask. This is a clear symbolic gesture as he is leaving Batman behind on the rooftop with the Batsignal and reverting to Bruce Wayne. He flies back to Wayne Manor and it explodes, destroying the whole building. It’s not made explicit but it’s fairly evident that Bruce has faked his death, very publicly killing Bruce Wayne, now that he has been revealed as the alter ego of Batman. Gordon’s narration states that “this is how the Batman died” but it’s really how Bruce Wayne died.

The final scene shows Thomas, Martha and young Bruce Wayne stand-ins walking down an alley past a theatre, visually recreating Batman’s origin. There’s a gunman, there are broken pearls, this is the birth of Batman as we remember. This time however, Batman already exists. A shadow appears on the rooftop behind the criminals, towering high before spreading shadowy wings and fiery demon eyes alighting as it swoops towards them and cuts to black. It’s clear this is more than a symbolic statement as the criminals react to this “Knightmare” and are clearly terrified. Ultimately it’s up to interpretation, but I think, either it is The Batman in his purest form, shed of the Bruce Wayne identity, free to be more than human (with the use of Scarecrow’s fear toxin apparently), or it simply a psychological manifestation. After Scarecrow’s gas flooded Gotham’s streets, perhaps the residual effects left a lingering memory of Batman that was burned into their consciousness.

Either way it’s a true and final realisation of Bruce Wayne’s goal for the Batman. To become something eternal, supernatural even, that will watch over an protect