#also canto is just. so difficult

[unma]

I'm not going to be able to write my typical long rambles for a bit (need to catch up on important work), but here's a short list of things I wanna talk about with the latest canto.

Spoilers, of course.

The entire Canto taking place after the ending of Don Quixote (the first Don, I will not call him the Actual Don because our Don is as much Don Quixote as he is) is not something I expected, but makes so much sense and made for a wonderful story. There are themes of identity, struggling to live under a broken system and GOD THE FAMILIAL TIES. THE FIGHT AGAINST THE TWO MIDBOSSES + THE PRIEST HAD SUCH MAGNIFICENT STORY BUILD UP. AND THE PRIEST'S ENTIRE MOVESET. UGGGH I WANNA TALK ABOTU IT

Hey. Outis. What did you mean by that. We all know what I'm talking about, right? This is the first time I know of that she's actually given even a smidge of info about herself somewhat directly. Somewhat. Everything else is just in how she knows things and acts. Here she is asking a very specific question and god, I need to know more about her now.

Good job Sinclair. And everyone else. But good job Sinclair.

Vergilius with Sanson's face/mask is cursed.

I continue to feel so so bad for the Bloodfiends. They did the best they could in a world that gave them only two horrible options. I couldn't help but compare La Manchaland to the Tokyo Ghoul:RE ending, because the hemobars reminded me of the artificial meat, except in TG:RE it worked and here, well. We saw how that went. I think it's a great idea to start with the after of their solution; this isn't a situation with a possible solution, they tried that and failed. Who knows if there is one that works? Does it matter now that they're all dead?

I'm going to be very weird about Camille once this is all said and done, but I do want to note that the pretty boy being turned into a flower and having a name very clearly gotten from Carmilla the flower (and maybe the book? Haven't read it yet so idk if he's taken from there) is very cheeky. I still wish I could've besting him up myself. This isn't me critiquing the writing, this is me being weird.

The QTE in the ending cutscene of the boss fight was cool and really added to the feeling of fighting against and overcoming a clearly superior foe.

I wanna hug Don Quixote the First. He's such a ray of sunshine and deserved better. Even if he was somewhat delusional, at least he genuinely cared for his family.

What happened to Hong Lu's sister? Did she just vanish? I didn't notice until later on, so I'll probably need to go back and check myself.

Bari is the Librarian of Death (edit: Nameless Bookhunter, thanks for the correction AE)? Idfk and idc for now. If Bari ends up showing up again or a moot of mine decides they wanna talk about it, maybe I'll look into it.

The familial themes here are most certainly also going to be related to Hong Lu's story, which once more is a reason I really should get to reading all the books for this game.

Ryoshu accepting death from the possibility of fighting Don Qui the second was really funny.

The abno fights here are really good, and I love how Limbus is making unbreakable coins the standard from now on. Makes it so you can't just blaze through fights taking no damage, and these battles genuinely feel difficult. That's good. Their designs and mechanics are also pretty easy to understand and match with their ego gifts pretty well. God I wish we had more Rupture ids that could stack as much count as the Lasso abno.

Sancho fight was cool as hell. The clashable 10 speed skill was so good and made it feel like a massive improvement on the Cassetti fight. So good. On use coin power did mess me up a little given it doesn't show up in the clash numbers, but that was on me for not reading tbh.

Fun fact: final boss can be Meatlantern soloed really easily. So easy in fact that that's how I cleared it. Doing it with a full team didn't end well for me. The solo's also really consistent, which is nice.

Mili song is really good. As usual. I need to go listen to it again. I need an in-game mix. I need it. The childishness of Sancho's side of the tune compared with the seriousness of first Don's side is lovely.

Also. Please, in the final clash where you use Don's base ego. I hope you looked at the name of the ego and the name of Don the First's attack. Please. It's such a good detail. And it's so much better when you remember that Sancho was always the one making weapons for Don. He calls Sancho's lances much more graceful than his. It's so lovely. You can tell these two genuinely love each other. It's so good.

Also the fact that basically every fixer we went in with got wiped out by weakened Bloodfiends really shows just how powerful these bloodfiends are. Camille had to resort to using ego gear to survive. Sheesh.

That'll be all for now. Expect a long ramble on any of these points when I'm more free, aka never.

[sage-lights]

with you, there's no pretending

word count: 2165 chapter: 1/? Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her.

Angela was going to kill Arasha.  

Earlier that week, Arasha asked Angela if she could interview her about playing Grace Chasity in their high school’s upcoming production of Nerdy Prudes Must Die. Arasha eagerly volunteered to write this article for her journalism class, hoping that Angela’s insight would help her assignment stand out. Angela knew her friend had been working all year to impress her teacher and secure the position of Editor-in-Chief for the next school year.  

Just for fun, Angela made her best friend beg, playfully acting stubborn and difficult about the request—much to Chanse's amusement, who had a blast recording the whole thing and laughing at the two of them. In the end, Angela agreed, and the girls made plans to meet at their favorite local coffee shop on Saturday.  

That morning, she took Spork to the vet for a routine checkup, which, thankfully, hadn’t taken longer than anticipated. After making a quick stop to drop him off at home, Angela arrived at the coffee shop just in time to find a table near the back before the usual afternoon rush filled the place. She sat facing the door so Arasha could easily spot her when she arrived, then mindlessly scrolled on her phone to pass the time.  

Out of the corner of her eye, Angela noticed a girl with long, wavy brunette hair enter the coffee shop. She looked up, expecting to see her friend rushing over to greet her. But instead, in her place stood Amanda Lehan-Canto.  

Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her. She remembered leaning over and whispering (a little too loudly judging from the pointed looks the kids in front of them had given her) to ask Chanse who the new girl was.  

“Who are you talking about? There’s like a million people here,” Chanse responded, wildly swiveling his head around trying to figure out who Angela was referring to.  

Angela slapped his arm and pointed discreetly to the girl a couple of rows above them, “Over there, idiot!”  

“Oooooooh, someone’s got a crushhhhhh!”  

“Stop it! Could you be any more obvious?” She sunk further into her seat, “Do you know who she is or not?”  

“Nope, but I could find out.”  

Later, Angela learned her name and that she’d just moved to Los Angeles from Boston. Despite Chanse’s insistence that Angela should introduce herself and befriend her, Angela just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.  

That was almost four years ago, and even now in their senior year, Angela was no closer to Amanda than when she first laid eyes on her. Even when they’d been in the same AP Psychology class sophomore year, Angela had always been too nervous to say more than a few pleasantries. She didn’t want to come off as overly eager or that she was scaring Amanda away.

Angela admired Amanda from afar, how she greeted a table of friends with hugs and a “How are you?” and how freely she chatted and laughed with the baristas. The coffee shop seemed to brighten with her presence. 

But then Amanda turned and met Angela’s gaze. Shit, she’d been caught staring. Angela tried her best to recover, her face reddening. She turned in the other direction, pretending to search through her tote bag for something. She fumbled with her AirPods and pulled out a book, quickly flipping it open to her bookmarked page.  

“Hey! Angela, right?” Oh no, Angela recognized that voice. She glanced up at the girl speaking to her. Thank goodness for all those acting classes that taught her how to mask her emotions. She hoped her face looked calm and nonchalant, but also friendly and inviting. Oh, and maybe cool and suave as well. Honestly, Angela would take anything over looking overwhelmed at the fact that her long-time crush was now talking to her.  

“That’s me!” Just be cool.  

Amanda sat down in the seat across from her, and that’s when the panic really set in. “I’m Amanda. We had AP Psych with Mr. Hecox together.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” She prayed that her voice wouldn’t embarrassingly start cracking, “His class was definitely an interesting one, especially with the random dark jokes he’d thrown into the middle of his presentations.”  

Amanda chuckled lightly at her comment, and Angela felt her smile widen and her shoulders loosen. But when there was no indication of her leaving, Angela got nervous again.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but is there a reason you sat down? Not that I mind talking to you. Not at all. It’s just, um, I’m meeting my friend, Arasha, here in a little bit—oh, you might know her from Journalism then. Since you’re the Editor-in-Chief this year, right? Well, so you probably know that she’s writing a piece on the school’s musical, and she asked to interview me. So, I don’t think you can stay here for long. Oh my god, I sound super rude right now, don’t I? Shoot, I swear I—,” 

“Angela, breathe,” Amanda leaned forward and placed a hand over hers, interrupting her rambling. A thousand questions began spinning around in her head. Can she tell I’m freaking out? Is my hand abnormally sweaty? Am I making a fool of myself right now? Is she this touchy with everyone? Why. Is she. Touching. My hand?!

So much for keeping it cool.

“Did Arasha not tell you? I’m actually filling in for her. She messaged our class on Slack this morning asking if someone could take over because she woke up super sick,” Amanda explained.

“Oh shoot, maybe I missed that text from her,” Angela opened her texts with Arasha and briefly scrolled through to check even though she knows for certain that this a certified Arasha prank.

angela: you’re kidding me arash no way you’re sick

Immediately, Angela got a response. She could just picture Arasha’s smug face.

arasha: oh yeahhh i’m totally sneezing up a storm rn

angela: arasha lalani more like arasha lie-lani

arasha: lame but you’ll thank me later now go have fun on your date! but not too much fun ;’)

angela: NOT A DATE i hate you sm

arasha: you’re welcomeee

Amanda raised an eyebrow playfully, “Everything good with Arasha?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Angela fumbles with her phone again, shoving into the pocket of her zip up hoodie without even turning it off.

“Okay, good.”

“Good.” Oh no, did I just make it weird?

Amanda pulls her laptop out of her purse, “Ready to get started then?”

“Let’s do this thing.”

Amanda readied her fingers over the keys and looked over at Angela, ready to take notes like a professional journalist. “So, what can audiences expect from your performance as Grace Chasity in Nerdy Prudes Must Die?”

“Soup,” Angela answers cheekily.

“I’m sorry, soup?”

“Yep, soup! I mean who doesn’t like soup? A classic chicken noodle? Or a butternut squash soup?” Angela gasps animatedly, “What about a garlic tomato bisque? With a grilled cheese?! Come on, how could anyone hate soup?”

Amanda chimes in with a grin, “Broccoli cheddar though? Very divisive, I will say!”

“Ugh! I do secretly love a broccoli cheddar!”

“So do I! But have to ask again, Angela, what does this have to do with Grace Chasity?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. I will say though, Grace’s preferred soup is definitely dirty.”

Amanda laughs, “I feel like you’re purposely trying to confuse me now.”

“Gotta sell tickets somehow, Amanda!” She winks, to which Amanda laughs again. That sound, the resonance of it, settles into Angela’s chest and fills her with a blooming warmth. 

As the interview progressed, Angela’s initial jitters fade away. Each question Amanda asked felt less like an interrogation and more like a conversation she’d have with friends. By the time they reached the final question, she realized she’d very much enjoyed Amanda’s company.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” Amanda closed her laptop and slipped it back into her bag. “Thank you again for doing this interview with me. I know I’m not who you were expecting, but I’m glad I got to chat about the musical with you anyway.”

Angela shook her head bashfully. “Of course, it was no problem.”

They both gathered the rest of their things and stood up, though Amanda suddenly moved in for a hug. Angela returned the embrace, even though she was still a little shell-shocked from the whole afternoon. Note to self: Amanda’s a hugger.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Amanda pulled away. “I always forget not everyone’s down for physical touch, and then I go and make it uncomfortable by hugging you.”

“No, it was alright. Don’t worry about it,” smiled Angela, reassuring Amanda. Neither of the girls said anything after that, leaving them staring at each other in awkward silence for a little too long. At least, it was awkward for Angela, given the whole “I’m in love with you” part. She really hoped she wasn’t smiling too much like an idiot. Maybe she should stop smiling. No, that would be off-putting as hell to randomly stop smiling. Maybe she should say somethi—

Amanda cleared her throat, “It was nice talking to you. I hope to see you around sometime.” Phew.

She waved to the retreating Amanda, “Yeah, I’ll see you around.” But there was still a voice inside her that urged her to say something more. This is your chance, Angela!

“Wait!” Angela called out, causing Amanda to turn back around. “You should, um, get my number. You know, just in case you have any more questions while you write the article.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Amanda handed Angela her phone with an amused expression. Angela carefully entered her information on the new contact page and passed it back to Amanda before saying a last goodbye and letting Amanda walk out.

Angela blinked a couple of times, hoping to snap back into the present. It didn’t help—she was too dazed from the whole interaction. Amanda Lehan-Canto had just talked to her. Holy. Shit.

After collecting herself a little more, she hopped in her car and drove home. Every moment of their conversation replayed in Angela’s mind: the answers she had given, the stupid jokes she had cracked, the way Amanda had sounded when she laughed. She pinched her arm over and over again to prove to herself that this all really happened.

As she pulled into the driveway, her phone lit up with a notification from her group chat with Chanse and Arasha—it was unfortunately named “ANGELAAAAAAA!” after the way her friends often called her name in disappointment.

arasha: your location says you’re home angela spill how did it go

angela: wtf are you stalking me

arasha: that’s beside the point

chanse: explainnnn pleaseee

arasha:  i set ang up on a date with amanda lehan cantooooooooo

chanse: A DATE?!

angela: NOT! A! DATE!!! it was an interview that arasha FLAKED ON

arasha: semantics

chanse: HOW DID IT GO

angela: it was chill she asked me about nerdy prudes and i gave her my number in case she had follow up questions

chanse: you gave her your number???? damn ang is finally make some moves took you long enough

arasha: YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME MAN she would still be sitting on her ass pining away if it weren’t for me

angela: jeez it was just a casual thing calm yourselves

chanse: why don’t you text her and say you forgot to mention something earlier just to get the convo rolling

angela: um bitch i’m tryna play it cool here don’t wanna seem too eager plus i just realized i didn’t get her number…

chanse: angelaaaaaaaaaaaaaa dude you fumbled that big time

arasha: i put in so much work to make that happen and you fucked it wasted effort

chanse: you idiot i cannot believe you

arasha: you got no game fr

angela: Y’ALL I WAS PANICKING CAN YOU BE A LITTLE MORE GENTLE

chanse: no you don’t get a pass for this arash do you have her number

arasha: nah we text on slack also it would be hella strange if ang had her number without asking directly

chanse: ugh true i guess

At this point, she had made it up the stairs and into her bedroom. Frustrated with her friends, Angela tossed her phone onto her bed before promptly flopping down and burying her face into the pillows. And then, she screamed. So loud and so long that she barely heard the “ding” of a new notification.

Angela rolled over and felt around for her phone, already groaning at what she expected to be another annoying message from her annoying friends.

unknown number: hey this is amanda

Her eyes widened.

unknown number: i realized way too late that i never gave you my number so i thought i’d shoot you a text so you could saved it too :)

Angela threw her phone again and went back to screaming.

a lil author's note: i started this amangela high school au a longggg time ago, practically when this blog started because it's one of my favorite tropes to mull around in my mind. funnily enough, this first chapter was written for the smosh girlies week back in feb, but i deleted the whole thing because i hated what i wrote, so the first draft has been lost to time. then, i wrote it again and abandoned it again. it wasn't until my wonderful friend @babychosen asked me about it recently that i decided to revisit it and finally finish it for all y'all to enjoy! this is for @babychosen, @unknownteapot, @poppyfamily, and @shesmore-shoebill. thanks guys for always yelling about amangela with me <3

[myreputatioooon]

Ya'll I need a fic where Outis being a war criminal with a body count haunts the cantos

The ✨drama✨ of Nelly's reunion with Heath being interrupted by her noticing Outis and asking "Mother?!" and Heathcliff being inflicted with staggering because he's been beefing to high hell with his nanny's MOTHER and oh fuck Outis is gonna hold this over his head

Outis remarking to Olga how she picked up everything from her father except maybe her fighting ability much to Olga's confusion

Outis being real awkward around Sinclair especially during his Canto cuz she might have birthed/sired one or more of his parents kids . . . Who may or may not have been sibling(s) to Sinclair . . . Or Sinclair because shit he looks like that man she shagged

All the sinners being off-the-wall frustrated at how damn difficult Aida and Los Mariachis are to fight but Outis herself is also smiling the whole way through and after Aida flees for the first fight she's just smirks and goes "good enough show for my daughter" giving one or more sinner whiplash

Outis as all the sinners die of poison spitting at Hopkins, "not even letting your own half-sister to die in your arms, and now this?" And Hopkins having no clue wtf she's talking about so he walks away faster to get the hell out of dodge

Outis remarks looking at the Lion, Wolf & Panther "you have your fathers/'s eyes" and it is never clarified who or how many she was referring to

[scalpelsyringe]

Limbus talk below.

Are any of these IDs worth uptying? It's difficult deciding what and what not to uptie, especially when thread is so sparse, and there's so many combinations for teams.

Solemn Lament Yi Sang - Likely should, especially since we use him. Just put off due to the high cost, since it is a 000 rarity.

W. Corp Yi Sang - His supports seem good enough, we just don't run charge teams often

My Seven Association - High cost -_- Also, it's a small thing, but I do prefer my nonuptied art for this ID far better... Sighs, but she also uses it frequently. So she supposes if it's worth it.

My Multicrack - Skill 3 and passives all seem good, high cost. Don't use charge much.

Kurokumo Clan Wakashu Ryoshu - Skill 3 and passives seem good, high cost.

Liu Meursault

Dead Rabbits Meursault - Seems fine enough, especially since we often use rupture.

Liu Hong Lu

W Corp Hong Lu

Fanghunt Hong Lu - Seems good to uptie? May do it once we personally reach Canto 7 on our account.

Seven Heathcliff - Skill 3 seems decent enough

R Ishmael - Have heard it's good but honestly it seems shit. Someone justify it to Faust.

Edgar Butler Ishmael - Ishmael wants to. And we use sinking often enough.

W Outis - High cost, don't use charge often

Blade Lineage Salsu Outis

Ring Outis

Zwei Gregor - Have been meaning to, since we use him constantly. Just a high cost...

Liu Gregor

Rosespanner Gregor

[ruinaimagines]

what do you think it would take for Heathcliff to warm up to somebody? because right now I feel like he'd scare a lot of people off with how brash and violent he is, but it'd be interesting if someone managed to befriend him.

I love him. And yes, I am alive! I am still crawling on. somehow.

Heathcliff Warming up to Someone Headcanons:

It is true that his outwardly brash nature is what a lot of people are initially met with, especially if they happen to be of some authoritative stance, but that’s mainly because of his own preconceived judgements. He’s a rather reasonable and good man otherwise.. Just a bit quick to jump to opinions.

If he doesn’t feel as though you are demanding respect from anyone then you have quite a decent chance of getting along. Talk to him as though he’s an actual person and you’ll find he’s pretty cooperative unless what you’re telling him to do is something he deems as outrageous.

Even though I lovingly call him an idiot, he’s quite the opposite. Heathcliff is a very apt man. We’ve seen this during Canto II with how he diverts the attention of the casino guards. He’s just a bit impulsive in some cases in the same sense that Don is. If he sees something he considers to be wrong, insulting, or similar he is quick to action if no one else is. He’s very good with short-term solutions but doesn’t immediately consider the implications for the long term. That’s Faust’s job. He’s clever and witty.

His recklessness also stems from the fact that death isn’t actually a problem for him (poor Dante), so not much is stopping him from speaking his mind. Unless the situation is really dire he has no desire to shut his mouth. Will still mutter under his breath.

He would immediately get along a lot better with you if you share any kind of similar passions in disrupting the system, calling people out, and overall being very blunt on the blatant ignorance and audacity some people have. While not to say the other sinners don’t agree, they just typically don’t really comment on it either. To have someone else that he can rant with and be brutally honest with? Ohhh that is just going to fuel the flames.

Would find you funny as hell if you insult the smug, sleazy workers of the city you happen to run into. Even better if it’s directly in their faces. Will back you up even if you don’t know each other much at this point because it’s entertaining. 

I believe that you have a pretty solid chance of getting along even if you don’t immediately call out someone to their face so long as he overhears you complaining about it later. Not all people have the confidence he does, and sometimes it’s easier for you to let it be in the moment as long as it’s not too treacherous or there’s quips here and there.

The most crucial part in befriending him is first and foremost about establishing a sense of likemindedness. If he doesn’t see you as an agreeable person, then chances are he won’t think well of you either. You don’t have to be as loud about it as he is but even stating something along the lines of ‘That is wrong and it needs to be acknowledged and not smoothed over’ after the fact works for him.

I think that it would be a lot more difficult for him to see eye to eye with someone who so compliantly follows along with orders and seems indifferent to the cruelty and justice around them. There needs to be some kind- any kind of proof that you have humanity and aren’t willing to stay complicit with continuing what is seen as morally wrong by him.

He’s a very passionate guy which can be a little difficult to navigate because he can very easily get lost to more aggressive feuds or grudges, in these situations he’s a bit unreachable in that he is very unlikely to hear others out. When it calms down though his opinion may alter slightly especially the longer he knows a person. Still sticks very close to his own truth nonetheless.

With this it becomes easier to talk to him because there’s no longer that  preconceived notion he holds over you, whatever it may be. You might find him even gravitating more near you or valuing your opinions a little higher than the others. When Faust is droning on he tends to tune her out, but whatever you’re saying he’s more encouraged to listen in on. There isn’t much of a difference in the moment, but you’ll notice that he’s completely forgotten what Faust has advised whereas he brings up a note that you mentioned instead.

Don’t expect the bickering to go anywhere. Friend or not, there will still be snide remarks here and there, though if you’re on good terms with him they’re meant in a more playful snarky way as opposed to a genuine complaint. Best be quick witted yourself.

You’re one of the few who can get away with insulting him without paying the typical price of being smacked over the head unconscious with his bat! Something that has happened an unnecessary amount of times with the other sinners much to the displeasure of Dante. Don’t expect to be completely devoid of being pushed around though. I imagine him to be the type of person to slam his hands around your shoulder with such force that it will completely knock the wind out of you for a joke.

Heathcliff is sort of hard to reach emotionally, even if you two get along very well. It can be kind of difficult to delve deeper into his own problems no matter how good on terms you are with him. He’s approachable in the way that his inferiority complex makes it extremely unlikely for him to ever mention his own shortcomings or communicate his distress in a way other than anger. Heathcliff does not want to have someone pity him, and above all he doesn’t want to be seen as weak.

It’s very hard to navigate, there’s hardly a right answer of how to go about it because it’s something that’s so emotionally fuelled that your best case scenario is just trying to listen and be more casual about it if something ever did get brought up. It’s a sore spot, don’t be surprised or feel bad if he snaps at you because he feels like you’re trying to be his therapist, it’s a spur of the moment thing and he’d feel bad afterwards. He just wants to be seen as a person.

Try to pry very little, what small trace amounts you get from him of his own personal experiences is something you’ll just have to take. Heathcliff might seem to be in particularly pissy and broody moods from time to time, whether from a bad interaction or something deeper, you can ask him what happens but if he says to drop it then it's recommended you do.

I feel like he isn’t ready to unpack everything, he finds it unneeded and a hindrance to get all sappy and focus on how he feels. That said I don’t know if there ever would be a proper time… aside from his canto.

You become his complaining buddy. He will trash talk either the others or some unpleasant person you’ve met while at work. It’s honestly fascinating some of the most obscure and abhorrent insults he can construct, beat only by Ryoshu of course. Her’s is just vulgar.

He is so biased it’s not even subtle. Heathcliff might seem a bit unapproachable at first but you’ll quickly come to realize that if you offer a sort of loyalty then he will return it. Might make fun of you for getting into a tricky situation, but he will do everything he can to pull you out of it and I think that’s what makes him such a good companion.

[vibrantbirdy]

Hey lovely!! Could you do a Cassian Andor x (f) reader? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers. I like the whole “you annoy me and piss me off” relationship that ends up in a situation where they are stuck together for something and end up in a fight where they suddenly realize they have feelings! I love allowing creators to have their own space to create, so if you wanna do something else entirely, please feel free too!!

❤️ take care of yourself

Thank you SO much, this is a great request! I am a sucker for enemies to lovers too. I hope you don't mind, but I had a similar Cassian request from Anon at the same time about Cassian x Reader having to go undercover to Canto Bight as a couple which I thought would work well with yours so I merged them. (Anon, I also hope you don't mind the merging and that you can find this ok as I don't know if/how I can reply to two asks in the same post?)

Also, I want to thank everyone who has interacted with my writing so far.

Requests for Character x Reader fics are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Keep 'em coming.

-Birdy

Title: Charade Fandom: Star Wars Setting: Between Andor and Rogue One Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Enemies to lovers; Action/adventure; Fluff Warnings: Moderate sexuality; moderate swearing; mild violence/peril; brief mentions of loss of family/friends by Reader. Pairing: Cassian Andor x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 10k (oops)

Summary: You and Captain Cassian Andor have to negotiate your personal differences and difficult history when you are both assigned to go on an undercover operation to the Galaxy's playground for the super-rich, Canto Bight, as a married couple.

Prologue

Your first mission as a spy for the Rebel Alliance has taken you to Carida. The objective; to infiltrate and sabotage the Imperial Naval Yard there then get out as quickly and quietly as possible.

As it turns out, the mission is doomed from the outset. An Imperial mole who somehow dug their way into the very heart of Rebel Command on Yavin 4 has alerted the Empire to your plans.

Your team of six hardly made it five kilometers from the rust-bucket of a ship Rebel Leadership had assigned to you when you were intercepted by an Imperial patrol.

The firefight was brief. The Stormtroopers were green, even more so than you. You wondered with a pang of unexpected sympathy whether they'd come fresh from the Imperial Academy which was also based on Carida. There were far more seasoned combatants amongst your own unit and the fight was over before it had really began.

Still, that's when you'd lost poor Lily to a Trooper's blaster bolt. You're not even sure he was aiming at her. She'd fallen against you and you'd twisted your ankle as you'd spun to the ground following a futile attempt to hold her upright as if that would negate the fatal injury she'd just sustained.

Now, as you limp up the ridge of the hill you feel a swell of relief as you see that you are almost back to the clearing where the ship is stowed. But as you catch a glimpse of the hunk of old metal, you realise with horror that you are not out of the woods yet.

The Empire uses decrepit shuttles just like this one for for training cadets at the Academy. That's why High Command had insisted you take it - to blend in. You'd nicknamed it Tenacity because the old girl just wouldn't die and the name had stuck.

The ancient vessel doesn't do anything quickly until it's up in the air. Then she's sharp as a razor. But she has a complicated manual override for emergency take-offs whereby the crew need pump fuel round the engines a few times using an externally stowed generator.

Good for training Imperial cadets for problem solving and how to make the best of old tech. Not so good for spies who need a quick exit.

You're the engineer, it should have been you who hooked the ship up to the generator. But with your injury you are too slow and so the others went on ahead to start without you. You are sure you gave correct and clear instructions, but in his panic, it looks like Rogdul has connected the ports up all wrong. Dangerously so.

Overhead, you hear the scream of Imperial TIE fighters and you launch yourself into the nearby undergrowth. You count them. Four. They are searching the valley for you. They pass, but they'll be back in less than a minute. It's impossible that they haven't spotted the ship in the forest clearing.

From your hiding place you hear the ship's engines burst into life. Inside, you imagine Rogdul and Anya carrying out hurried pre-flight checks. Baslin is probably taking up position in the gunner's hatch, hoping to see some action.

No, you think. Not like this.

But you can reach the ship and fix the problem. You know you can. The whole thing will blow if you don't and that's not an option.

You dart out towards the Tenacity, but someone intercepts you, slamming into you with a body tackle and dragging you roughly back to cover through the mud. Soon, you're seated up against them, your back pressed into their chest, their arms and legs wrapped around you like a vice.

It's Captain Cassian Andor, you realise, your superior officer and the lead operative on this mission. You'd completely forgotten that he was even further behind the hasty retreat than you, taking up the rear and keeping watch for more Imperial patrols on your tail.

You don't care who it is. You struggle and writhe furiously against him, desperate to get away and stop the impending disaster you can see unfolding before your eyes. But Andor holds you fast against him as if you were a child having a tantrum.

"Let me go, I can fix it!" you scream over the howl of the returning TIEs.

"You can't, it's too late!" Andor shouts back into your ear.

As if on cue, the generator connected to the side of the ship starts to spark wildly, just as you knew it would. You watch helplessly as the fuel cells hidden within the Tenacity ignite with a deafening bang and whoosh of flame as the ship goes up in a hellish fireball.

A second later, the TIEs make their second pass. There's no need for them to bother firing their weapons. The devastation from the explosion is catastrophic.

They do it anyway.

Two years later

You are on approach to Canto Bight, Cantonica's capital city - the Galaxy's playground for the wealthy.

Captain Cassian Andor is in the pilot's seat, following instructions from the flight control tower. You'll sit down in a moment, but right now, you are desperately trying to sort the sticking-up collar of his cream shirt which is made of expensive looking silk.

Irritated, he tries to bat your hand away, but you are persistent.

"Kriff's sake, Andor, just let me do it," you mutter.

"I'm not a child," he says petulantly, but he relents.

There. Now he looks the part in his fine clothes. He's tidied his short beard and moustache so that the stubble is cropped neatly to the sharp contours of his chiselled face. His dark brown hair is neatly parted at the side, although it's perhaps still a little long...

You don't look too shabby either, bedecked in a knee-length silk day dress of sky blue, accompanied by a cloak of dusky purple which is draped elegantly across your shoulders. The Rebellion went to great lengths to fund this operation and they certainly didn't skimp on the provision of suitable attire. It's essential that you fit in.

"I look fine, you look fine, stop fussing," Andor says dismissively, noticing as you smooth out a couple of annoying wrinkles in your dress and swish out the skirt to make sure the fabric is lying properly.

"I think you look lovely," K-2SO, Andor's droid and almost constant companion, pipes up from the co-pilot's chair, "and that Cassian looks like he's swallowed an Endor fire hornet."

"You don't think," Andor retorts, "That's just circuits misfiring randomly in your head..."

K-2 turns to you with a mechanical whirr, and if he had the ability to conjure expressions, this one would read:

See? I told you.

You stifle a laugh and drop down into the passenger seat behind the droid.

The first time you'd met the hulking re-programmed Imperial security droid had been that fateful day on Carida. You and Andor had shivered miserably in silence for hours by the wreckage of the Tenacity as the rain lashed down, making little difference to the fearsome fuel-accelerated flames which devoured the ship. The Empire, in their arrogance, didn't bother to send out a patrol to check the site.

Then, late into the night, K-2 had finally arrived in Cassian's own ship under cover of darkness. With your injured ankle having swollen to twice its usual size, the gargantuan droid had lumbered over, scooped you up, and carried you with surprising gentleness into the vessel. Ever since, you've always enjoyed his company and his sardonic wit.

Your relationship with Andor, on the other hand, has been tumultuous since its inception. He's always been frosty and stand-offish with you. You sometimes wonder if your presence reminds him of the disaster on Carida the way his does to you.

Whatever his reasoning, his uncompromising demeanour has always brought out your worst qualities when you're around him, especially your stubbornness and your dislike of being told what to do. You've never gone so far as insubordination under his command, but when you disagree with him, you have a unique knack for finding your own way to interpret his orders. This always has the infinitely satisfying effect of winding him up.

Anyway, this time won't be like Carida. And despite your personal differences, you and Andor have worked together successfully - though admittedly never harmoniously - many times since.

Your objective is simple enough. You're looking for a business man, Dreylan Balgo. He's not yet thirty, but he's the biggest supplier of Imperial weapons in the Galaxy. You need to obtain his biometric signature and transmit it back to Alliance High Command. They'll then use it to access the designs and blueprints of the weapons his company is designing for the Empire and eventually send agents in as factory workers to sabotage various key elements.

As Andor and K-2 make the final approach to Canto Bight you look out the window. Below you, the dark sea glitters and ahead, the shining spires of the beautiful city glow golden in the evening sun.

You close your eyes as a flash of a childhood memory dances across your brain. You came here with your parents once when you were nine or ten. That's partly why you've been chosen for this mission. You used to move in these circles.

K-2 drops the shuttle neatly on to the landing pad which juts out over the water.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," the droid quips as you exit.

It's winter on Cantonica. As you step out onto the platform, the breeze is chilly but pleasantly fresh and you can hear the steady crash of waves against the cliffs below you.

At the entrance to the structure, you pause a minute to take in the monolithic doors, ornately carved and inlaid with beautiful coloured glass which catches the light of the setting sun with dazzling beauty. The doors open and you and Andor step into the elaborate marble halls of Canto Bight's most luxurious resort as newlyweds Mr and Mrs Race Pax.

**************************************************

The suite you are staying in is as lavish as the rest of the place, but it is small. The coiffeurs of the Rebel Alliance do have their limits.

"What are you doing?" You ask, suddenly stopping your own unpacking to observe Andor throwing an assortment of pillows and blankets onto the ground.

"I'm taking the floor like a gentleman."

"Don't be stupid," you snort, "What if the maid comes in and sees this..." you gesture to the collection of blankets on the floor, searching for a fitting description "...gentleman's pillow fort?"

The most important thing on this mission is that your cover needs to be believable. And, perhaps tantamount to that, if Andor is tired, he'll be even grumpier than usual and you don't think you could deal with that.

He straightens and sighs, repeatedly slapping the cushion he has been plumping with unnecessary force.

One thing you and Andor have never been around each other is shy. Having spent weeks at a time together in miserable, hastily erected camps, cramped transports, and underground bunkers in the service of the Alliance, the necessity of living in close quarters with him stamped that out quick. You've learned to move in each other's personal space with ease and usually without any awkwardness, so you can't fathom why he's making a meal of it now.

He looks at you defiantly for a moment longer before accepting defeat.

"Fine," he says, as he starts to pick up the elements of his makeshift camp bed and throwing them back on the bed, "Fine, but if you snore, I won't hesitate to kick you out."

"If I snore?!"

That was rich.

*******************************************

You and Andor are attending one of Canto Bight's seemingly infinite evening soirees for the rich and powerful. A colourful sea of people in lavish dress are engaged in polite conversation and enjoying expensive beverages in one of the grandest ballrooms you've ever seen.

Dreylan Balgo is here, somewhere. Tonight is a chance to observe his behaviour, get to know his habits and make an initial introduction if possible. Anything that could help you create an opportunity to obtain his biometrics over the next few days.

You are wearing a teal halter-neck gown, a drink in one hand while the other rests elegantly on top of Andor's arm. The silk of his plush evening jacket is smooth under your fingertips and you absent-mindedly fuss with it as you scan the crowd for your target.

Someone says your name. Your real name.

Andor stiffens next to you.

Trying to keep your composure you turn and relief floods through you as you realise it's one of your mother's oldest friends, Lady Sen Prya. It's been years since you've seen her and she must be in her eighties by now, but she hasn't changed one bit. She is adorned in the most grandiose yellow satin gown you've ever seen, complete with matching gloves. Her long white hair falls, twisted in an elaborate braid, all the way down to her waist.

Quickly, you take her gloved hand and squeeze it gently, a subtle message you hope she can read.

"Oh I'm sorry you must be mistaken," you say politely and introduce yourself as Mrs Pax.

Understanding flickers across Prya's face. She always was sharp as a knife and time doesn't seem to have dulled that characteristic one jot.

"Ah of course, child. Forgive me," she says tactfully with all the grace and ease you remember from your childhood, "You look very like a dear old friend of mine. It's nice to meet you. I am Lady Sen Prya."

She reaches a hand up and touches your cheek affectionately with a twinkle in her golden eyes. Then, she reaches out to Andor who brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses it gently.

"Race Pax, it's a pleasure," he says, and there is a genuine warmth in his voice.

He appears to have relaxed somewhat and you are sure it's because he probably recognises Prya's name. She has been funding various elements of the Rebellion for years.

"Now, is there anyone you need an introduction to, before I retire to bed like the old woman I am?"

Prya stresses introduction as if its a code word. And it is.

You look up at Andor questioningly. You hate to ask his permission for anything, but he is the senior operative here. He nods once in ascent.

"Dreylan Balgo," you say.

Lady Prya's eyes light up and you can tell that she is delighted to learn who your indented mark is.

"Well then, follow me, young lovers."

Andor gives that rare smile of his, the one you see so infrequently which reaches all the way up to his eyes where they crinkle at the corners. He likes Prya. Everyone does. That's what makes her so dangerous for the Empire.

You wind through the crowd, following Prya as if she is golden star leading you to your destination. You're suddenly nervous and although you'd never admit it, there is something comforting about how Andor's large hand entwines with your own as he follows your lead through the busy party.

"Dreylan! My boy!" Prya's voice is clear as crystal and cuts through the party hubbub with ease.

Balgo turns from a conversation he is having with several other men. He is a handsome man, dressed in an evening suit of black velvet. He is tall and elegant with piercing blue eyes and a mop of sandy blonde curls.

"Ah! Lady Prya! What a delight to see you," he says gregariously, stooping low to kiss the older woman's cheek.

"And you, my lad," she replies with gracious ease, "Now, I want you to meet a couple of newly weds, Mr and Mrs Pax. I'm certain young Pax here would be interested in discussing business with you boys, although I, for one, find it all very dull."

There is a ripple of smug, amused laughter from the circle of men, and you join in only because you know Prya could negotiate most of these idiots out of any of business asset of theirs she chose to.

Balgo turns his attention to you first, appraising you thoroughly before taking your hand and kissing it with an elaborate flourish. You let out a silly little laugh, ensuring your voice carries an appropriate blend of affluence and air headedness.

Less than a minute you've been in this man's company and you can already read him like a holo novel.

He then greets Andor with boisterous joviality.

"Congratulations, Pax, what a stunning creature you have caught in your net."

Andor chuckles amiably, shaking Balgo's hand.

"It's good to meet you," he says warmly.

This time, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes and you notice that his hand, which has been sitting lightly round your waist, shifts down to just under your hip.

Lady Prya retires to bed soon after, flashing you a wink and a dazzling smile as she sweeps from the room, an ageless vision in yellow.

The conversation and drinks flow. All night, you sense Balgo's eyes on you. Alliance High Command don't officially approve of so-called "honey-traps," and neither do you, but you see no harm in cultivating Balgo's delusion if it opens another window of opportunity. You don't discourage him, directly meeting the furtive glances he casts your way when he thinks Andor isn't looking.

Throughout the evening Andor proves why he is so good at his job. His ability to observe and imitate behaviour is uncanny. He adopts with ease that careless, raucous affectation that only young, wealthy men seem to possess. He hasn't taken more than a few sips of his wine, but he mirrors Balgo's increasingly boisterous body language and bawdy humour expertly.

By the end of the night the two are stomping around the dwindling party with their arms slung around each other's shoulders, swaying and laughing and singing like idiots.

The night has been a success. You've created a rapport with Balgo.

*******************************************

"Prya was a friend of your family's?" Andor's voice comes unexpectedly from the darkness, "What happened to them?"

It's very late - or early, depending on how your look at it - and you and Andor have just fallen, exhausted, into bed.

You are resting on your left side, as always, and you hear him roll over beside you, so that he is looking at your back.

You are surprised by how accurately Andor has read into the situation with so little information. You don't see any harm in telling him.

"My father owned an agricultural engineering works. One day the Empire came to his factory and asked him to design and build components for some machine they were building, probably a weapon. He refused. They executed him on the spot and took the factory anyway. I did my best, but we struggled and my mother died a few years after of a broken heart. That's when I left to join the Rebellion."

Andor shuffles, the bed shifting beneath you both and you can tell that he's propped himself up on his elbow. You feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

"You've never told me that before."

"You never bothered to ask," you reply defensively, "I know what you think, what you all think. That I'm a rich brat who ran off to join the Rebellion just to piss off her wealthy parents."

There's a silence.

"Turns out you're only half right..." you finish with a rather bitter self-deprecating chuckle.

To your surprise, Andor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, before you reach across your body to place your hand on top of his, just for a second.

"Goodnight, Cassian," you say.

You rarely use his first name and it feels odd, but not unnatural on your tongue.

"Goodnight."

He rolls back over and is soon snoring softly. You don't fall asleep for a long while, not until you hear the birds begin their morning chorus and the light of dawn starts to creep through the open window with the sea breeze.

********************************************************

You and Andor spend the next morning trying to locate Balgo but he's nowhere to be found. You suspect he is probably in his bed nursing a very sore head.

The last place you try is the Fathier racetrack, although you know there are no races on today. You are glad. You can't stand to see these magnificent animals forced to run like that.

Even so, you are unable to refrain from grabbing Andor's hand in excitement and dragging him over to the nearest pen where a mother and foal are resting in a patch of sunshine.

"A baby," you find yourself saying, stupidly.

Andor laughs quietly at the ridiculous, breathless joy in your voice. You wonder if he's making fun of you, but when you turn to him his eyes are sparkling with a mischievous light.

He gestures to a nearby handler, adopting Pax's air of arrogant entitlement with frightening ease.

"My wife would like to see the animal."

"Of course, sir."

The handler coaxes the foal over and it's tall enough already to reach other the fence. You pat the creature on its nose and between its ridiculously long ears and it nuzzles sweetly into your hand.

"Mr Pax?" You say as you turn to Andor and realise he's hovering a few feet back from the fence.

You gesticulate to him to come over. When else will he get the opportunity to interact with such an animal?

"Oh no, I can see fine from here," he replies with a shake of his head.

Surely not, you think, and you feel your mouth twist into a devilish smirk.

"Are you scared?" You tease.

You sidle up to him and entwine your arm in his before stretching up to whisper into his ear so that only he can hear you.

"Captain Andor?"

Unable to resist your direct challenge he offers you his hand with a resigned, slightly nervous grin. You take it, leading him back to the fence. You guide his palm up to the baby Fathier's nose and the creature sniffs it curiously. You then press it gently against the animal's long forehead. When you let go, Andor continues to stroke the animal softly, his face lit up with an expression of childish wonder.

"Thank you, husband," you say when you both turn to leave.

He gives you a subtle wink and you feel a sudden rush of something close to fondness for him.

********************************************

That afternoon is spent sneaking around the resort's service corridors. You are right at the top of the building and the corridors are narrow and low. It's ridiculously hot and you feel stupid carrying out serious espionage in yet another one of the seemingly endless supply of dresses you've been provided. This one is a horrible pink colour that clings all over and you hate it which is why you've chosen it for this dirty, sweaty work. You know you need to wear something suitable for Canto Bight's grand halls in case anyone sees you on your way to or from the job, but it just feels so unnatural.

Hopefully this shouldn't take too long. All you need to do is wire in a small signal booster to the resort's communications lines. Then, when you obtain Balgo's biometric signature, the data pad can send a transmission to a commandeered, disused Republic satellite to confirm that the sample has been collected successfully.

Actually transmitting the scrambled data to the Rebel base on Yavin 4 needs considerably more power which means, at some point, you and Andor are going to have to hike out to Cantonica's main transmitter mast and send the signal manually from there.

You'd flown past the huge pylon on your way in to land at the resort. It's a monumental thing and you feel a rush of nausea at the very thought of having to climb it...but that's a problem for another day, you decide.

Your head is buried in a control panel, and you're trying to explain to Andor why you need to use a slightly different width of cable than originally planned but he interrupts you mid-flow.

"Can you do it, or can't you?"

"I can do it," you snap back.

"Then just do it, I don't care how."

Charming as ever, the morning's hard won truce between you apparently forgotten. He's nervous and so are you, so you try not to hold it against him. He just wants to get out of here quickly.

There's a sound, and with horror, you realise it's the service elevator doors hissing open. A stern male voice follows soon after.

"Lars, If you're up here slouching again, I'm going to dock your pay."

You and Andor both freeze, staring at each other like Loth cats caught in the headlights of a speeder. Then, without warning he grabs you at the back of your knee, hitching your leg up to rest on his hip, his hand travelling further up the underside of your thigh and underneath your dress as he shoves you against the wall and pushes his body firmly against yours. The other hand flies up to your face, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.

Your gasp of surprise is muffled as he crashes his lips hard against yours. It takes you only a millisecond to understand what he's doing and you kiss him back, twisting your fingers tightly through the locks of dark hair at the back of his head.

At this, a soft groan resonates in his throat and you are almost certain this is unintended. You feel a flash of satisfaction that you've managed to affect him in such a way, then scold yourself for being unable to refrain from point scoring with him, even now.

"Get out of here," Andor growls at the hapless employee, pretending he has only just noticed the man's presence.

His voice is low and husky. As he speaks, you feel his fingertips press into the flesh your thigh. Suddenly, the combination of his proximity and his heady, masculine, familiar scent is overwhelming, and you feel something hot and fierce coil in the pit of your abdomen.

Andor - Pax - has broken away from your lips to berate the man, but he hardly deigns to turn his head to look at the unfortunate employee. You take a moment to study the fine details of his face up close. His pupils are dilated, making his dark eyes gleam like midnight. His nostrils flare slightly with heightened breathing. An uncharacteristic blush is travelling up his neck into his cheeks. You can feel his heart slamming against his chest and your own.

"Oh, uhh... yes...of course," the poor employee sounds terribly embarrassed and all the previous managerial authority has vanished entirely from his voice.

"My apologies sir..."

The man actually stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck to see your face through the tousled mess you've made of Andor's hair before addressing you directly with a courteous nod of his head.

"Madam."

You raise your eyebrows at him politely and give him a ridiculous little wave with your free hand, the one that's not woven through Andor's hair.

You hear the employee blundering off back to the service elevator and the machinery clunks as the doors close and he disappears.

Andor's forehead is gracing your own and neither you nor he move for a moment. It's just long enough to catch the slow glint of recognition in each other's eyes that something new has passed between you and you both know it.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he finally breaks away, running a hand through his hair as if to sweep away the feel of your fingers there, "I didn't have time to ask nicely."

"It's fine," you say, smoothing your stupid dress down and clearing your throat, "Good thinking."

He leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed, as you return to your work in silence.

*******************************************

Evening has fallen and Andor and Balgo are talking animatedly at the bar. The resort is hosting another of its grand parties. You sit with Lady Prya at a nearby table. You don't talk about your new life and she doesn't ask, but the conversation is easy and comfortable and you feel a rush of gratitude that your paths have crossed again.

Once Balgo has left to mingle with other guests, you give Prya an apologetic smile and cross over to the bar where you drape yourself around Andor's shoulders. You lean in to kiss him on the cheek. To anyone else, these merely look to be the actions of a young couple.

In reality, you are providing cover as Andor works quickly with Balgo's empty glass. Earlier, he'd lined the outside of the receptacle with a special gel that picks up biometric data. Once settled on a surface, it is almost imperceptible to the touch.

Andor attaches, then tears away the transfer strip from the glass and quickly places it down on the data pad's receiver. A rather sad and weary boop from the device confirms that it hasn't picked up Balgo's fingerprints.

"Kriff," Andor curses quietly in frustration, a muscle working in his jaw.

"Give it to me."

"What?"

"Give it," you hiss.

Uncertainly, Andor passes the various components of the device to you. You snatch them from his hand, shoving the bits and bobs into your pockets and stride away before he can stop you. The satin of your dress swishes a melody to the click of your heels. You hear Andor swear under his breath.

As you walk, your eyes scan the room, searching for your target. There. A flash of golden hair at the other side of the room. You stalk Balgo through the crowd, waiting for the right moment.

You make your approach, taking out a small mirror from your pocket and quickly squeezing a blob of the clear transfer gel onto your finger before making a performance of patting the strange substance on your mouth like lipstick. You snap the mirror closed and move in for the kill.

"Oh Mr Balgo, I am so sorry!" you exclaim, feigning embarrassment as you collide with his shoulder, jolting him arm so that he spills red wine all down the front of his pristine, white suit jacket.

"Please, Mrs Pax, it's no matter, really," he says as he stays your pawing hands and swoops down to greet you with a peck you on the cheek.

"I really am sorry, Dreylan, I will pay for the damage."

"Nonsense," he scoffs amicably, his chest visibly puffing out as you address him familiarly by his first name, "Now, where has your husband of yours got to? The fool surely hasn't let you out of his sight in that dress?"

Balgo is right, it is a nice dress. Your favourite so far in fact. It is tailored in beautiful crimson satin with a full skirt, off the shoulder sleeves, and a plunging neckline.

"Oh, he's around somewhere, I'm sure."

You lean in and whisper in his ear.

"But he's not here."

He smirks back at you and you see his icy blue eyes light up.

"Shall we get some air on the balcony?" He suggests.

Well, what an unexpected turn of events, you think sarcastically as you accept the proposal with an external show of flirtatious grace.

Out on the ballroom's grandiose veranda with Balgo, you look across Cantonica's seemingly endless, dark waters. The sea breeze is cold, and the businessman drapes his jacket round your shoulders. You laugh at the right times, interject an asinine comment here and there as Balgo talks about business, and allow him to explain things to you that you already know without complaint.

When the timing feels apt, and the balcony is otherwise deserted, you reach up and plant a kiss on his lips. He returns it, placing his hands on your hips. Balgo is attractive enough, there's no doubt about that, and the kiss is far from unpleasant... but it's only a means to an end. There's no passion to it, and you can't help but compare it against the ardent fervour of Andor's embrace. The heat of it.

As you pull back from Balgo with a suitably flushed smile, the gossamer curtains behind him shift in the breeze and over his shoulder you catch a glimpse of Andor across the cavernous ballroom.

He's so far away, but you see him clear as day. His eyes are searing holes in Balgo's back before meeting yours with a look of disdain. He downs his drink and slams the glass on the bar's marble counter-top, stalking off towards the elevator.

You suddenly feel a pang of irrational guilt which makes you furious with him. You're doing your job. The one he failed to do.

Balgo's self-satisfied look of victory does nothing for your vexed and flustered disposition. He offers to go and source a drink for you both. Keeping your composure - you are a spy after all - you smile sweetly at him and agree.

When he is gone, you make sure no one else is around before you take out the transfer paper from your pocket and subtly dab it on your lips. Surreptitiously, you whip the data pad out of your other pocket - thank the stars you'd insisted on dresses with pockets - and press the paper against the reader.

You wait, visualising what the signal might look like if it was something tangible and visible. A little bolt of lightning, perhaps, arcing to the closest service hatch, climbing its way up wires and cables, escaping out into the cold night and up into orbit and the decrepit Republic satellite.

Finally, the device gives you a cheerful bleep and lights up green.

Success.

You'd like to see Balgo's smug face fall when he returns to find you've disappeared, but you don't want this to go any further than necessary. You've got what you need and your sudden absence can easily be explained away as a young wife's crisis of conscience. You leave his jacket on a nearby chair and make your way up to your suite.

*****************************************

When you get back to the room, you can practically feel the heat radiating off Andor as he rips his shirt over his head dramatically in the process of undressing for bed.

Trying to ignore his silent seething, you turn away from him and lift your hair away from the nape of your neck. He automatically moves behind you to help you unzip your dress and, despite his clear agitation, his hands are gentle. The red gown drops to the floor, leaving you standing in your flimsy under-slip.

You turn back to look at Andor, taking in the familiar outline of his body. He's not a huge man, but the muscles are strong and taut in his torso, back and arms. Littered here and there are scars, testament to a hard life lived dangerously. The moonlight streaming through the bedroom window gives his tan skin an ethereal glow and illuminates the sharp, handsome features of his face.

It's not that you don't find each other attractive. You both know that there's always been some unspoken tension between you. But the tempestuousness of your personal and working relationship has always prevented you from falling into anything that might be a mistake.

You are suddenly keenly aware of the obviousness your own form as your underdress clings to the curves and planes of your body. You can sense Andor's eyes roaming across it in a way you're sure they never have before.

You think - maybe - something changed with that kiss you shared this afternoon. An embrace which began as a charade and ended as something else.

"That was a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing to do!" he finally explodes, interrupting your reverie and bringing you back down to reality with a thud.

"It was a calculated risk," you retort, furious with him and internally embarrassed by your silly romantic notions.

"And," you stretch across to the nearby dresser to pick up the data pad where Balgo's biometric data is safely stored to brandish it under Andor's nose, "And it worked."

"In case you'd forgotten, Balgo thinks you're here with your husband..."

"That's why it worked!" You exclaim, "By the Force, men know so little about their own species..."

"You could have blown our cover, the whole operation!"

That riles you. Why can't he just congratulate you on a job well done? You've just saved this damn operation. You have what you need now. All you need to do is transmit the data and you can both get out of here.

"I know what this is," you say, your voice rising in chorus with your anger.

"Oh please, please enlighten me."

"You're jealous."

There's a heavy silence.

"Jealous?!" Andor scoffs finally, but the strength of his conviction has faded from his voice, "Of what?"

"You can't stand that I kissed him."

Andor steps towards you, brows furrowed, eyes alight with something that's not quite anger.

"He's welcome to you," he seethes, "The last thing I need is some highly strung rich girl playing at being a spy."

The words sting, especially after you opened up to him about your parents the other night. Even as the vague idea of restraint flashes through your mind, impulsion compels you to raise a hand to strike him across the face.

He catches you by the wrist as you lash out, pulling you even closer to him so that his sharp nose is almost touching yours.

"And so what if I am?" He continues and the change in direction is so unexpected that you are rendered speechless.

His tone is low and dangerous and his deep, brown eyes are wild, roaming your face desperately for an answer that never comes.

"What if I am jealous? What if I don't want his filthy, Imperial hands all over you? So what?"

Andor's face suddenly softens, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression of genuine turmoil. It's a display of vulnerability you've never seen from him before. His grip on your wrist loosens slightly but he doesn't let go.

When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper.

"What difference does it make to you? Ever since Carida... You despise me."

It's not true, you suddenly realise. It's never been true. Not really.

You want to tell him you've never blamed him for what happened on Carida. The actions of the mole? Not his fault. The failure of that sorry excuse for a ship? Not him either. Somewhere along the way, your perception of him became warped and refracted through the prism of your own feelings of guilt.

You know he saved your life that day. He must have gone through hell in the aftermath too, dragged up in front of various different elements of High Command to explain why only two of his six operatives made it back alive over and over and over again.

More than this, you want to explain that while you were kissing Balgo tonight, you were thinking only of him. You want to say how when you took a shower earlier and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you'd seen the faint, red imprints of his fingertips still lingering like little tattoos on your skin and that you hope they never fade.

But you're just so angry with him for always having to be such a stubborn, patronising, hard-nosed bastard. So you say none of these things.

You know how much it must have taken for him to admit feelings for you, no matter how clumsy and ill-timed the execution. This man who always holds his cards so close to his chest has shown you his hand. He's given you ammunition and all you can think of in this moment is shooting him down with it.

"That's right," you say, leaning in close and whispering spitefully into his ear, "I despise you Cassian Andor."

You regret it immediately. Andor drops your wrist as if he's been burned. As he steps away from you, he looks completely lost. His eyes are cast down at the floor, full of humiliation and hurt. By the time they return to your face, they have darkened like storm clouds.

"Then, I'm glad we understand each other."

You open your mouth to say something, to take back your words and undo the damage you've wrought with your temper. Nothing comes out.

As Andor turns away, you reach out for him, try to catch him by the elbow. He shrugs you off angrily and storms out of the room.

He doesn't come back until late. You pretend to be asleep as he quietly slips into the bed beside you.

********************************************

When dusk falls the next evening, and with Balgo's biometric stored safely on the data pad in your pocket, you and Andor set out for Cantonica's main transmitter.

You want to use the journey time to explain yourself, to apologise to him and admit your own feelings. But you are so ashamed of your careless words the night before that you don't even know how to begin.

Continuing the trend of the day, you walk the ten kilometers together in almost complete silence, trudging in single file along the rocky coastline.

Even so, being out in nature and away from the city feels almost healing to you. Most tourists only see the rugged countryside of Cantonica from the confines of a shuttle. It has a wild, mountainous, windswept type of beauty that you find exhilarating. After days stuck inside the gilded cage of Canto Bight, it is wonderful to be out in the elements, even if it is rather cold and damp.

Night has decsended by the time you reach the transmitter. It is set precariously on the cliff edge, so close to the tumultuous waters below, it seems like a freak wave could wash it away at any moment.

It looks even more imposing than you remember. A huge durasteel spike with a narrow, fragile looking caged ladder stretching up into the sky leading to a high metal gangway which looks just as ancient.

You go first, and as you climb higher, your hands and feet start to feel fuzzy and your breathing becomes rapid, escaping through your lips in short, sharp pants. You've never been good with heights.

The icy wind starts to whip unpleasantly around you and you grip the ladder fiercely with each laboured step. The damp air has made the metal slick and you gasp as your boot slips on one of the rungs.

You catch yourself before you fall, but even so, you are relieved when Andor comes up behind you and positions himself so that his solid chest presses reassuringly against your back as you take a moment to steady yourself.

"Take your time," he says and his tone is gentle, "You're ok."

You nod and exhale deeply. Steeling yourself, you continue your ascent. You can do this.

You finally reach the top of the ladder and crawl up onto the round platform which encircles the pylon of the transmitter to provide access to where the mechanics of the structure are stored.

You think for a moment that this experience is going to be marginally better than the climb up the rickety ladder. That foolish hope is soon proven mistaken. The durasteel grating beneath your feet feels precarious. There are rusted gaps in the metal here and there and your stomach flips every time you look down. The wind is stronger up here, wild and blustery, and you feel horrendously vulnerable. You just want to get the job done and get down from this death trap as soon as possible.

Andor helps you lift the heavy panel off the front of the control box. You sigh with relief. It's a standard set up, one you've seen hundreds of times before and it's easy to bypass. You set to work infiltrating the system and once you're done, you wait in suspense as the data pad blinks text at you.

TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING....

TRANSMISSION SENT.

"It's gone!"

Instinctively, you turn to flash a smile of triumph towards Andor, and you are relieved when one corner of his mouth twitches upwards ever so slightly in return. You wonder if, on the way back to the city, you might find the courage to try and make amends for your rough words the previous night.

Your hopeful thoughts are rudely interrupted when, without warning, the gangway you are standing on shifts violently under your feet. The whole structure lets out an ominous and eerie metallic groan and you realise with dread that the platform is tearing itself away from the pylon.

You have no doubt that you and Andor are the first people up here in years, and that your presence has disturbed the structure from its hibernation and reminded it of its decrepit, fragile state.

You grab at one of the rungs affixed to the main pylon intended for servicing the internal mechanisms, but Andor is too far away to reach. As the walkway peels away, he falls with it. The huge hunk of metal stops suddenly at a right angle to the structure, and the now horizontal guard railings catch Andor as he slams into them with a sickening clang.

There's a brief moment of relief when you think the worst is over, but then the structure jerks violently again as another metal bolt fails, and it tilts just enough to send Andor somersaulting over the top of the railing.

Desperately, he scrambles for something to purchase, and he manages to grasp at the guard rail with the fingertips of one hand as he rolls over it, leaving him dangling helplessly over the roaring water below.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop down towards him and your body hits the metal railings agonisingly hard. You ignore the pain and, praying that the railings will hold you, you scrabble to grab at Andor, your hands clutching at a handful of material at the front of his shirt just as his own grip fails.

Unexpectedly finding himself suspended in the air, Andor looks up at you in abject surprise. He assesses the situation and his eyes lock on to yours in alarm as he understands what you've done.

Your shoulders feel like they are slowly pulling themselves out of their sockets and your fingers, numb and white, are twisted up painfully in the material of Andor's shirt. You can't breathe properly, the air in your lungs being crushed out of you as you are pressed into the railings by the pull of Andor's bodyweight below you.

You are terrified that at any moment the guardrail will collapse and you'll both plummet together into the angry sea which seems to wait with open maw like a predator beneath you. But you don't know what else to do, and you refuse to let him fall, so you cling on to him in utter desperation.

"Let go!" Andor shouts up at you, and you can tell it's an order.

"No!" You yell back.

Suddenly, the front of his shirt rips and he drops away so that he is now hanging, almost literally, by a thread. The abrupt and unexpected motion causes you to lose balance and you have to let go of him with one hand to steady yourself on the railings and stop yourself from almost flipping over them to join him.

Andor's eyes are wild and fraught now, flicking between the failing structure and your overwrought face.

"Damn you," he growls with renewed urgency, "let go!"

Your whole body is screaming at you to do as he says, but you won't. Tears sting your eyes, whether from pain or fear, you're not sure. You clench your jaw and shake your head at him.

Andor snarls with effort as he reaches behind him and into his back pocket, pulling out his flip knife. He wrenches it open with his teeth.

"Don't you dare, you stupid bastard!" you scream down at him as you realise with what he intends to do.

He looks at you for one final moment and the world seems to stop. His expression is completely open and readable to you, perhaps for the very first time. His dark eyes glint with a fear that you suddenly realise is as much for you as it is for himself.

Then, he sets his face into a mask of grim determination and with one swift motion, he severs the flimsy cord of fabric tying you together and cuts himself loose.

"Cassian!" The vague outline of his name is torn ragged from your throat in an incomprehensible shriek of despair.

Helpless, you watch as he falls, limbs flailing, down, down, down, until he hits the water below with a sickening crash and disappears into the black, unforgiving waves.

*********************************************

Unbeknownst to you, the Rebel Alliance have successfully received Dreylan Balgo's biometric signature and K-2SO is already on his way to extract you and Cassian from Canto Bight.

By his calculations, K-2 should reach Cantonica in twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and seven seconds. Plenty of time to mull over the conversation he'd had with Murdo the flight technician before he'd left the hanger.

"Maybe this time, eh K-2?" Murdo had quipped as he unhooked the re-fuelling nozzle from Cassian's ship.

"Maybe this time, what?"

"Maybe this time they'll finally have admitted their feelings for each other."

"That is a ridiculous observation," K-2 had said confidently, "They dislike each other immensely."

Murdo had laughed and made a comment about the droid having a lot to learn about human relationships which K-2 had thought was quite rude.

But as he barrels through the hyperspace lanes in Cassian's ship towards the Outer Rim and Cantonica, K-2 has time to mull things over.

He thinks about how on missions when the unit has to set up camp on some remote world, Cassian always leaves your meat rations on the fire just a little longer than everyone else's because he knows you like them so crispy that they're almost burnt.

Then he thinks about how whenever he and Cassian return from a mission you're not assigned to, yours is always the first face the droid spots in the hanger when they arrive back, and that once your eyes land on Cassian, you always walk away without a word, seemingly satisfied.

Now that K-2 really uses his circuits to process it, Murdo's conclusion doesn't seem quite so ridiculous after all.

"Humans," the droid muses to himself with an exasperated shake of his mechanical head.

**********************************************

Somehow, you manage to descend the transmitter, climbing and clambering down the structure in a daze. You don't bother even trying to mask your shouts of distress and frustration as your feet and hands slip on the blasted, kriffing, cursed metal all the way down.

You stagger the ten kilometers back to Canto Bight in something resembling a fugue state. When you reach the resort, you sneak through the back entry port you and Andor left through and wind your way through the maze of service passages and elevators back to your suite.

You are as bedraggled looking as you are distraught and you are glad that the corridors are as deserted as they were when you departed. You don't feel you could negotiate your way out of anything right now, despite all your training.

Once you've climbed out of your damp and dirty clothes you fall into bed. Andor's absence beside you is a stark, raw reminder of what's just happened and you finally allow yourself to cry. Somehow, at some point, as you wallow in your anguish, fatigue takes over and you fall into a torrid sleep.

When you awake, it's still dark and you have the distinct impression that you're being watched. There's someone else in the room with you. You bolt upright and almost cry out as your eyes take in the silhouette of a person in the moonlight.

The ghost of Cassian Andor is standing at the foot of the bed.

Except he's not a spectre, you realise. His outline, though swaying, is solid. He's flesh and blood. He's alive.

Once you've recover from the initial shock, you don't think you've ever felt relief like it in your whole life. You leap up out of the bed and fly to him, just as he starts to crumple to the floor. You grab for him, but too weak to moderate his own movements, he drops like a stone and his momentum pulls you crashing down on top of him.

He's all sand and salt and seawater and he is shivering violently. His eyes are heavy, like he's struggling to keep them open. You touch his face and his skin ice cold. His clothes are wet through and you're suddenly struck by the urgency of the situation. You need to get him warm. Now.

With great effort, you manage to half drag, half shove Andor towards the shower room. He's so exhausted and disoriented that even this appears to be an insurmountable task for him.

When you finally get him there, you bundle him into the shower, fully clothed. He slumps against the wall as you turn the warm water on. You start peeling off the sodden, freezing layers of his clothing.

He hisses through his teeth as you remove what remains of his shredded shirt and you see that the skin on his torso and back is blossoming here and there in vibrant shades of black and blue. You're not surprised, a fall from that height, these are probably bruises from hitting the water hard. You try to be more gentle.

Once he's free of all his clothing, you slide down behind him so that you are against the wall, and he's sat between your legs with his back pressed against your torso. You guide him to bring his knees up to his chest and he wraps his arms around himself pliantly, curling into a tight ball. He's still shaking uncontrollably.

You ignore your own discomfort as the warm water plasters your nightdress to your body like a second skin.

Trying desperately to aid the shower in its work of returning some of his body heat to him, you rub his back, his arms, and his chest vigorously. Every so often he rests his head on the bridge he's created with his forearms across his knees and you have to coax him gently to sit up.

"Stay awake," you plead, "You need to stay awake for me."

Finally, his shivering subsides and you sit in exhausted silence as the warm water continues to pour over both of you. Your chin is resting on his shoulder.

"Cassian," you finally say into his ear, tucking a stray lock behind it as if that will allow him to heed your words better.

He leans back into you, tilting his head up towards your face, to show he is listening.

"I don't....I don't despise you, I don't..." you trail off, silent tears suddenly mingling with the spray from the shower as they start to fall from your eyes.

Slowly, Cassian turns to you. He rolls on to his knees, and sits upright on his heels. You mirror his movements so that you are face to face and your foreheads come to rest against each other's.

"I know," he whispers, bringing a hand to your cheek, his expression soft and full of tenderness, "I know that."

He trails a series of soft kisses down your face, touching his lips to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally down until they reach your own. You melt into him.

This kiss is not like the first you shared, hasty and hurried and fuelled by external forces. This is deep and languid and deliberate, as if you are the only two in existence and you have all the time in the Galaxy to spend in this moment.

One of Andor's hands tangles up in your wet hair, the other presses against the small of your back as if willing you closer to him. You can feel his urgency increasing now. His movements are definite and purposeful as he caresses and kisses your skin.

Selfishly, you want him to continue, need him to never stop. But you also know this might not be the wisest way for him to recover.

"Cassian..."

"You told me I need to stay awake," he argues as if he already knows what you're about to say, now tracing kisses along your collarbone, "I'm awake."

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind..." you protest weakly, but the breathy desire in your own voice betrays you.

"Liar," he mumbles as he nuzzles into your neck and you feel him grin against your skin.

The movement of his lips makes his short beard tickle your flesh and the feeling forces a raucous laugh from your chest. It's a loud, unrestrained, joyful sound.

Cassian pulls away to look at you, wearing an expression of wonder. You realise he's probably never heard you laugh like that before. In fact, you can't remember the last time you heard it yourself.

His eyes crease at the corners and dimples appear in his cheeks as he smiles widely at you. That smile, the one you realise you've adored all along. And this one is only for you.

"You're infuriating," you scold, but your voice is light and full of heady exhilaration.

You wrap yourself around him and kiss him hard, realising, finally, that it is impossible to deny yourself the joy of him any longer.

**********************************************

You and Andor step off the landing platform of the resort and up into his ship. K-2 wastes no time in piloting the vessel up and away from the city.

Compared to the sumptuous surroundings of Canto Bight, the interior of the ship looks admittedly a little dreary by comparison, but you won't miss life within those opulent walls. Not when you now know just how many of its inhabitants are within the insidious clutches of the Empire.

"Well, I hope you two behaved yourselves," K-2 greets you as you both enter the cockpit.

You and Cassian exchange a glance. He winks at you and you actually giggle, the internal glow of happiness you feel manifesting itself in an embarrassing little laugh.

"I'm taking that as a no," K-2 says, "Murdo will be pleased."

"Who the hell is Murdo?" Cassian asks and he drops into the pilot's chair beside his faithful droid.

[melonisopod]

Convinced Priest-Gregor was designed to acclimate players to the idea of running their Sinners at low health.

Also! Jia Xichun being a Rupture unit (and having enemies that are Rupture-focused as well like the Fanghunt Fixers and Rose Hunter) got me thinking that we may be getting our "Season of Rupture" very soon, at the very least Canto 8.

So this got me thinking, "Okay, Rupture is almost too broken an archetype on its own to be giving out truly meta-defining units to, and Rose Hunter alone was a nightmare to deal with because of his high Rupture stacking. Now, if I were a game designer, how would I try to balance this? How would I try to weigh out my shiny new roster of True Damage Powerhouses with enemies that still make the fights sufficiently challenging, and perhaps even difficult enough to make the Hot New Rupture Gameplay enticing enough to make people roll the gacha?"

My best guess would be a really consistent heal-per-turn mechanic akin to the K. Corp. mobs, but potentially worse. If the enemy can proc enough heal or maybe revive to keep pace with, say, a full roster of shiny new Rupture Meta doing enough damage to erase a whole health bar in a single hit, that seems like it'd be my first answer. Just give an almost annoying amount of healing or revival. Heck, we already have units in the game with infinite revive (YOU WANT TO GET BEAT? HURTILY? <-no that's what they're called it's not a threat) (K. Corp. Hong Lu's Ampule passive, and more recently Priest-Gregor; to an extent there's also Erlking's teammate revive proc though that's only one turn) so it wouldnt' be a stretch to imagine just doing more of that.

So if my theories are right (which, last time I tried making theories I was about half-wrong with a lot of them lmao) in about six months we're going to see a lot of enemies that proc self-heal or revive.

[raintakesabow]

If you had to rank the project moon games from favorite to least favorite, how would you rank them and why?

I think, from most to least favorite: Library of Ruina, Lobotomy Corporation, Limbus Company.

Explanations under the cut (also reminder that these games are on sale until November 4th!!! Buy them if you're interested!!!!)

To understand why, I honestly have to start with lob corp.

It's the first game, it's great, and it's got a lot of rough edges /pos. The first play through is phenomenal, and they never show you their full hand. It'll give you some information, and then turn it upside down (such as the day 10 Angela reveal, followed by Tiphereth's 4th cutscene (I think it was the 4th) much later changing what you thought you knew.

And then for every play through after, it's done with full knowledge of the story and the mechanics and it's genuinely fun to go in with zero knowledge, as well as returning with full knowledge and a memorized encyclopedia to choose specific abnos that are easiest to deal with (for a specific reason at days 40-44)

It's a great game, and I love it

Then LoR comes around and shows what Project Moon can do with a real budget. Much more detail, fuckin voice acting, the combat is incredible, the gameplay is so good and the VN segments are even better, chef's kiss. It's a different genre so it's hard to compare them at times, but I have had more consistent fun with LoR compared to Lob Corp. Both are incredible though and I highly recommend both

I also highly recommend Limbus Company, but not to the same degree. The combat is a lot more simple, and it doesn't feel as great as with LoR. It's still really good and I enjoy it (particularly the abno Boss fights), but it doesn't feel as challenging, and it hasn't felt like I've come out of anything barely scraping by.

Granted, I've only recently beaten Canto IV, so I've still got a lot left, but it doesn't have the same feeling of triumph that LoR has had with every one of its difficult fights, which I have big strong memories of the specific emotion each one filled me with.

Limbus is still absolutely cooking with the story though. Canto I: everything is in the shitter, it's a good starting spot. Canto II: much more silly and the characters show a bit more personality, it's a good next spot to go to. Canto III: The Horrors. I had to take consistent breaks during Canto III because it genuinely made me feel sick at times. The story is so damn good and they play with your feelings so damn well.

LoR is an excellent turn based deck builder with great Visual novel elements that shows what Project moon can really do, and it feels so satisfying to play through and overcome. 10/10

Lob corp is a great management game that gets a bit tedious at times, but is fun to eventually master. Plus the story and characters are great, and it's so good to go through and unravel just what's going on. 9/10

Limbus Company is an excellent visual novel with great turn based combat /mj. I love the characters so much and they do a really good job of balancing all 13 sinners and nobody is left out, even when the spotlight is on someone else. And if they are left out, then it's done because that sinner is actively withdrawing from the group, not because PM doesn't want to focus on them right now. 8/10

Also reminder that Lob Corp and LoR are on sale and that Limbus is always free :3333

Oh and I forgot to mention, but Limbus is extremely F2P friendly despite being a gacha game. Like, extremely friendly, and it's great and wonderful and I love it. Haven't spent a cent and yet I've got 7 3-star IDs (highest rarity)

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

Hey im so sorry. My roommate has cursed me with this question and i think you are qualified to answer it.

Is ryoshu a milf?

Most Truthful Answer: We'll find out in her Canto. We don't know yet, there's lots of references to raising kids within her mirror worlds (Cheif Butler and Lobotomy Corp) and any mention of family catching her attention. (Politly, don't tell me shit about the most recent Canto. I know she said something there, I saw the interaction with Gregor, nothing else. Zip it. ) but that is not absolute confirmation yet. Theories range from her being the mother, the daughter, the Emperor of Horikawa, or all three at once. That last ones not my theory though so its not mine to tell. All are valid. We don't know if she's a MILF yet.

My Personal Headcanons: Absolutely, but she acts so unlike it unless the subject is brought up. Im biased. I don't know how MILFs operate. Enlightenment would be nice. In my books, if she was a mother, she qualifies as a MILF. She doesn't have to do anything else. You raise a kid, your a MILF. M is for mother and idk what the other letters mean. Debatably, Outis is more MILF if she's Odysseus, a serial cheater, and does in fact have a family to come back to. Virgilius is the second closest to MILF on that bus.

Thank you for the question! Please tell your roommate that their question was nice. Anyone else can weigh in if they'd like.

Under the cut is me rambling unimportant stuff. Descriptive Nsfw, Veiw At Own Discretion

My brain is weird about Ryoshu and I overthink her niche in my life. I've accepted that my obsession with her is strange in the way my approach remains inconsistent? The sheer act of calling her milf makes me feel strange. I love her in many ways and I am ashamed of that because it's difficult to love in a healthy way.

Ive rotted my brain so milf is forever lewded, and thinking lewdly about Ryoshu is a mixed bag. So by default, I don't think Ryoshu is a milf if your definition of milf is mommy curvaceous plump ass tight lips bimbo, child rearing hips, because that's now how she is. If the parameters for milf = Soft spoken dommy mommy, she is absolutely not a milf. To make it clear, Im not accusing anyone of this, these are my thoughts, I just don't like when Limbus Company characters are mischaracterized, Ryoshu esspecially. Yet, I also acknowledge that I do mischaracterize her myself because of my own biases and Ill repeat that over and over.

I should go to bed before I type more stupid shit.

[quinnonimp]

whatre ur thoughts on canto 5 (so far) i need to hear it

OKAY SO gathering my thoughts on it is difficult unfortunately since i focus on getting through all the gameplay first, theeen go back to reread the canto to fully focus on whats going on u_u but !!

the intervallo was fun !!!! lowkey wish it was a real beach episode but obviously that would never happen in limbus (made me want to draw a real one though) . the 3 scrapyarders have a fun dynamic w the team & it was as cute as intervallos usually are (i really love intervallos .. & just general side content . i eat that shit up)

as a splatoon fan ofc ill like the sea aesthetic of it all .. rip ishmael she wouldve loved splatoon . plus fish ice cream is a funny idea im glad charon enjoyed it lmao, was nice to know that her & verg hung out in town

fun to hear saude is alive ! im not particularly attached to any of the npcs but im glad she got promoted . the lccb guy w brown curly hair looks like me and i was surprised when he showed up

i found ishmaels behavior & mindset pretty interesting ! to me shes sort of in the middle tier of characters-i-like - but so far this canto has written her in a very effective way, and i appreciate characters that have an extreme sense of determination & care, and her quest for revenge is compelling

yi sang being seasick is terribly relatable it made me like him more LMAO . i enjoy how much more talkative he is rn even if i dont have a deep connection to his character . my feelings on him after canto 4 have definitely improved (he used to be at the bottom tier together w 2 others 💀), & also bc i got his walpurgisnacht ID and im a huge funeral of the dead butterflies fan ..

I HATE RICARDO 😭😭😭😭 yes its a skill issue . but i also dont rly like his character i dont think hes that funny . being stuck on his stage was genuinely frustrating esp with the thought that the final boss of the canto is gonna be even more difficult . sorry . i know a lot of ppl love him and im sure his stage was fun mechanically to someone

the scene where we learn dante has a self destruct button was so much less sad to me than it shouldve been bc when it was explained i got mega distracted thinking abt barbwire (my oc) ..... woops .. still really liked that scene though . dante holds the number one fave spot together w don for me so im always invested when we get focus on them, and this in particular was impactful, especially with faust being clear about their chances of survival in that moment and the indigo elder telling them to "get used to the idea that not everything can be brought back" . themes of permanence & temporariness are super appealing to me and i love extracting that out of dante

when the indigo elder got revealed i was immediately like "oh yeah dons gonna freak tf out with 2 whole color fixers on the same bus" . i was right . she shouldve been allowed to have a way bigger reaction though i mean this is a huge deal .. anywho i like him ! he might be the npc i find most intriguing so far, and im very interested in seeing him & ishmael interact more

so yeah uhmmmmmmm thats what ive got so far while doing a mirror dungeon . im at 5-32 (shoutout to my friends list for getting me past 5-30), so once ive finished the canto i might add onto this post if u wanna hear more or ask specific things !

[bloodiegawz]

strategy tips for limbus company?

invest in nclair

are you just starting out? for the most part the strategy in the game just involves building your team around enemy weaknesses (which are told to you at the beginning of battles). each ID has a different set of sin affinities and attack types so check their skills before sending them in

the game doesnt really get too difficult until canto 3 so dont worry so much about the intricacies of mechanics and status effects until then, as long as you meet the team level suggestion and read what your skills actually do (something project moon fans are famously known for not doing) you should be fine

also uptying enhances skills, leveling makes them more powerful. this is a difference i didnt really understand at first. dont waste thread on the standard lcb IDs

[delusinalandpassionate]

Okay it's rather fun how I made such a big fuss about Don lacking Pride in her IDs only for two her latest versions both have Pride as a core sin.

Funny, isn't it?

But I guess, now having two of them, we could actually make some theories or ideas.

First of all, they are like genually happy, stable and satisfied with their lives.

Like ShiDon and WDon, if not actively miserable in their positions, don't like their job in a way they did when they only started.

Hammer Don is kinda difficult because she is genuinely happy(at least no signs of brainwashing that other sinners have), but there is something not right in this version of her.

Cinqixote and MiddleDon? They have happy, fulfilling lives, with no signs inner conflicts surrounding justice they inflinct, or cult menatlity and in MiddleDon's situation, she even has a community in which she is highly praised and considered fitting. And that is a completely new thing for her, but I guess as was mentioned in 5 Canto, it's much easier for her to fit in, when people match her energy, just like Middle.

So I would consider core Pride for Don, symbolise settling and committing to her "justice" even if she has to make a compromise. Is it really that bad if she takes money for defending good people? Is it really cruel to punish enemies of Middle if they did break a rule. It's insignificant in grand scheme of things.

(Fun fact she and Pirate Greg are only IDs, at least as I remember, who actively trying to harm or murder Dante

Also makes me wonder how exactly MiddleDon book has Dantes name if she's from another universe)

Envy in Middle Don is also rather easy because it suits Middle's color aesthetic and their strong bond between each other.

Wrath is interesting, because it suppose to be earning for justice, but it seems rather shallow in her.

(It’s also interesting, that while for her it surface sin, for Meursault its a core one, but at the same time with his character story we can see that for him committing Middle law is more important than for Don)

Cinqixote is...still difficult without any other Cinq ID to compare, but I guess again that her Lust is again her first impression, person who act before thinking without self-control, which is fastly proven to be wrong when we see how she made these things work for her.

Gloom is...weird, I guess we could consider that she's actually not that happy about compromises that she had to make, but we can't say it with confidence.

[enkephallic]

Queer Sexuality in Limbus Company

My not very coherent mini-thoughts.

Playing Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, I had an impression that PM often wrote women who would end up entangled in the lives of several people and lead them down a twisted path (Carmen), use their strength to make a name for themselves for perceived good (Kali) or just Absolute Strength for what it is (Garion). In addition to this, the female characters in lead roles of the games would wittingly or unwittingly shift the narrative to bring havoc upon the male protagonist's reason to exist (Angela to Ayin, Angelica to Roland).

This can be seen in Limbus Company - Kromer ruins what was Sinclair's normalcy. Catherine pulls a Carmen. Ryoshu's relentless pursue of artistic anatomical destruction. However, a key difference between Limbus and the previous games is the incorporation of classical literature, and its figures into the narrative. This creates an interesting blend of PM-style characterization and gender/queerness in the source material.

Demian and Moby Dick are good examples of this. Both can be read from a queer lens - Demian can be interpreted in several ways, from a psychological journey of awakening to a story of understanding one's own identity (sexuality and gender is also encompassed in this). Most of the book focuses on Sinclair's internal self and his growth, with periods of both with and without Demian in his life.

The most notable difference is the lack of homoromantic tension present in the book. Book Sinclair is tormented with dreams of Kromer hurting him, until he dreams of being forced beneath Demian and feels 'ecstasy' while suffering gladly under him. His complex feelings towards Demian encompasses more than love, while simultaneously evoking queer themes to many readers. It is difficult to argue the same for Limbus Demian, who certainly leans more heavily into the symbolic mentor role and questionably human.

This could be due to Sinclair's journey being far from complete. The book gets rid of Kromer very early, and it's only the start of his growth as a person. Perhaps we'll see more of Demian and Sinclair's relationship unfold, though right now there isn't much of that happening.

On the other hand, Ishmael and Queequeg leans quite heavily into the book duo's closeness. So much so that Queequeg saving Tashtego in Moby Dick is adapted into an Ishmael-Queequeg interaction. Moby Dick features a close bond between them described with the words 'marriage', and goes on to feature them sharing a safety rope that would bind their fates together if one should fall. These aspects, prime for queer reading, are picked up on and detailed in Canto 5.

What's more, there are many narrative and characterization choices that could have been made to tell their story. In PM fashion, the genders are swapped and both Ishmael and Queequeg are women. All of the female Sinners are genderswapped versions of their counterparts, while the male sinners are as-is (not adapted female to male). The decision to adapt Queequeg into a woman along with Ishmael is a choice that allows the preservation of queer reading - they could have chosen to keep Queequeg male, but did not. Conversely, Kromer was swapped into a woman from her book counterpart. The reason why is unclear, but the gendered 'genderswapping' in PM has a lot of avenue to explore in.

In many ways, Limbus defies gacha traditions including gendered conventions employed in larger games (gendered attire, implied sexualization) which can be attributed to their indie-ness and nonconformity. The most notable one would probably be how they handle romance - many playable gacha characters do not hint at heterosexual relationships, while Heathcliff straight up has the most twisted love affair with Cathy. Some games with female fanbases create strong bonds between male characters, while keeping female characters catered to their male fanbase. The opposite can be seen in Limbus, where straight relations are hinted at the most (or outright established) while male-male friendships aren't very prominent within the Sinners. There's some resentment (Hong Lu and Heathcliff) and improvement (Sinclair and Heathcliff), but not really any One duo that stick out.

[hellcab]

Do you RP other muses?

I do! I just haven’t been as active with my other muses. Regardless, here’s the roster.

First, my Fallout muses. There’s Ares T.A. Redwood, a ghoul mercenary driven by his own moral philosophy. Although stoic, his rage towards cruelty, oppression and corruption burns brighter than any nuclear reaction. He’s a man of principles, he believes A is A regardless of the century. He’s a difficult man, troubled and haunted, but he’s a good man.

Then there’s Scratch. He’s a Fiend; a highwayman who targets lone travelers. Scratch is cruel, decadent and always chasing that next high. His M.O. usually involves him chasing down people on his motorcycle. Robbing them, and if necessary, killing them where they stand.  Yet, he’s not nearly as psychotic as his fellow Fiends. Scratch has standards and his limits. He still clings to some consciousness. In truth, he hates the lifestyle.

There’s also Quintus, a Legionary. He’s a man of broken faith. Through misery alone, Quintus has realized how obscene The Legion is.  Yet, despite his disloyalty to Caesar or Lanius, he’s loyal to his men. It’s the survival of his men that compels him forward. Quintus wants them to survive the way, no matter the cost. He’s a cynical soldier, bemused and horrified by everything around him.

Now, for my Hellaverse characters.

Over at @infinity-cantos, you can find my multimuse blog. There you can find Guns Akimbo, Shrike, Kaizaan and finally The Wire.

Guns Akimbo is a mercenary who runs guns across the eight rings of Hell. She’s a Valkyrie, chasing the adrenaline rush of violence. By the way, she was also married to Roth Kruger. Despite her bloodlust, there’s some good in her. After all, it was one good deed that sent her to Hell. Deep down, she wants something more than violence. Yet, she feels she’s destined to it.

Shrike is my Exorcist. Compared to Lute, Shrike is very subdued and reserved. She views slaughtering Sinners like any other chore. Yet, she’s a woman haunted by tragic mistakes. At one time, she was fanatical, blinded with rage at every turn. That cost the life of her best friend.

Kaizaan is an Imp, a thief as well. She’s highly successful, able to afford a comfortable and luxurious living. She even uses magic, so she can invade people’s dreams and steal their secrets. Overall, she’s greedy, selfish and blinded by materialism.

Then, there’s The Wire. He’s the man who murdered Roth Kruger. He also murdered several other people, before becoming crippled for life. In Hell, he’s back to his old habits. Now, murdering those who society could care less about. The Wire is just some murderous pseudo-intellectual snob. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t.

Finally, we have @mindhate. There you can find The Tyrant of Jinn, Sargatanas. He once was God’s chamberlain, but that ended when he sided with Lucifer. Now, Sargatanas is a monster who feeds on suffering, fear and cruelty. He’s what Hell once was, the last remnant of that nightmare. He hides many secrets, many terrible things. He desires to drag Hell back to where it once was. To torture every Sinner to the end of eternity.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

I saw that anon that mentioned Leon learning Mandarin, I think it’s more likely that he would learn Cantonese since Ada’s last name is Wong, one of the more common last names in Hong Kong / southern China area. I forgot where I read it, so don’t take it for a fact, that devs at Capcom were big into Hong Kong films in the 90s, which could have been the inspiration for Ada. It’s a popular belief that “Chungking Express” was likely one of the inspiration for Ada’s look and the Aeon dynamic in RE2R lol it would make it even funnier to me because comparatively, Cantonese is the the more difficult language because it has more tones compared to Mandarin so good luck to Leon 😂 Especially since Ada is Chinese American, I’m Asian American and majority of my Chinese American friends are all Canto speakers, likely because most who came to America and planted roots here during the gold rush were Cantonese. Sorry for the little side track history lesson!

HELLOOOO

so i kinda struggle with this too. i have troubles headcanoning whether or not ada speaks cantonese or mandarin or both or just one of the other. i think the general consensus has been that she speaks mandarin, but i can see her being brought up speaking cantonese and then switched at some point because it was more helpful to her for her career.

i always headcanon that ada learns many languages, focusing on english, mandarin, maybe cantonese, french, japanese, and whatever language that would've been spoken in eastern slav republic, and i see her learning italian for leon.

also wong is a fake name, so there's really no indication whether or not she would be speaking one or the other. but also it could be just like a "common chinese last name," so it wouldn't be easy to find her necessarily. like if you want a common last name, use that.

i love that there are so many ada stans that are asian lol kinda goes to show that representation matters ;)

anyways yeah i just love the idea of ada speaking chinese to leon and him picking it up. it only makes sense lol. most couples like that, the other one picks up some of it.

also ada teases him when he says things that are slightly off hehe. she'd be cursing out someone like >:( sei pok gai!!! and leon's just like :O

[fabien-euskadi]

8. 25. 50. (Your current favorite quote.)

Blessed night! ✨

8.What’s your favorite band/artist?

Well, that is an incredibly complicated answer, since it is absolutely impossible for me to chose just one.

These are some of my favourite bands and solo artists (the order is absolutely aleatory):

Nightwish, Dream Theater, Skeletoon, Black Sabbath, Within Temptation, Avantasia, Liquid Tension Experiment, Elend, Savatage, X-Japan, Temperance, Manowar, Virgin Steele, Danger Danger, Lord of the Lost, Ghost, HIM, VV, Rhapsody of Fire, Luca Turilli’s Rhapsody, Angra, Shaman, Tierramystica, Xandria, Michael Kiske, Glenn Hughes, The 69 Eyes, Luca Turilli, Joe Satriani, Soulspell, Daemonarch, Rotting Christ, Beast in Black, Battle Beast, ELO, Dead Can Dance, Meat Loaf, The Dark Side of the Moon, Femme Fatale, Aina, Majestic, Halestorm, Mark Free, Marcie Free, Unlucky Morpheus, Megadeth, Moonspell, Mago de Oz, Magic Dance, The Sisters of Mercy, The Mission, Amaranthe, Apocalyptica, Van Canto, Therion, The Night Flight Orchestra, Ayreon… and I could go on forever, adding more and more bands and solo artists. And I didn’t even mention that I love classic music.

25.What’s your favorite decade?

Despite having academic degrees in History and Heritage, I am not strictly focused on the past. I am not fascinated by the idea that the best years - Humanity's and mine - live somewhere in the past. There is something deeply attractive, almost sensual, about nostalgia, but I am perfectly aware that longing for the past is also a powerful - and devastatingly sweet - poison. Maybe, my romantic side came with one of the most amazing traits of the XIX Century: a blind (almost religious) faith in the future and the progress. That’s why I believe my favourite decade is somewhere in the future. I only hope it’s not a decade after I am no longer alive… albeit I suspect that may be the case.

50. Your current favorite quote.

That is also a difficult choice, but I a going to opt for the paragraph that ends the XVI Chaper of Saint-Exupery’s “Night Flight” (I have just finished reading it):

« "Too beautiful," he thought. Amid the far-flung treasure of the stars he roved, in a world where no life was, no faintest breath of life, save his and his companion's. Like plunderers of fabled cities they seemed, immured in treasure-vaults whence there is no escape. Amongst these frozen jewels they were wandering, rich beyond all dreams, but doomed.»

There is also a sentence that I found in one of my WIPs – this one is called “The Death of Miguel Guerreiro Murta”:

«Everything I see only exists inside myself.»

There is also a verse from the song I amm listening to in this very moment - Dream Theater's "A View From the Top of the World" (by the gods, this song is a masterpiece):

«The impossible is never out of reach»

(thank you so much for the asks 🤍 – it’s always a wonderful pleasure talking to you; and sorry for the delay in the reply, but this has been a slightly complicated day)