#i like the whole fighting for the heir to the puzzle thing

[romanceddawn]

tbh im really liking this duel so far, and its a shame because i've heard that ryuji and yugi's rivalry gets ironed out and the story moves on at some point but man he is such a good rival set up for yugi, they make a good parallel to yami and kaiba

[blueteller]

....pls, youre the only one i can rely on, was there a clear progressive difference for Alberu Crossman's characterization between earlier chapter and after the war with white star? thank u;v;

Hm, good question! Alberu's characterization is tricky, because it's very subtle. I consider it a steady slope, with several "critical" moments worth noticing.

The moment when Cale gave him Dragon's dead mana was obviously one of those points. Others could be the time Alberu personally fought the White Star, or that time he used Taerang to create light with the Sun God's power. Out of them all, the most important moment would obviously be the time he took Cale underneath the royal library to show him the rock with the "curse of the Crossman Family".

Why do I think it;s the most important, aside from being a major plot-relevant reveal? (Also the importance of the development for Cale and Alberu's friendship, but that's a whole other topic so I won't dive into that too much.) Well, it shows that throughout the whole series, despite the show of confidence he was putting, Albreru was filled with doubt. I'm not 100% sure he knew about the "curse" since the start of the novel (I'm using quotation marks because I don't believe it was a real thing, or not in the sense the Crossman family believed it; I think the Angelina was simply keeping an eye on them and wrote that thing to scare them off from being bad kings, when the rock was really just a "package" with a secret weapon inside). Alberu could have been told about it sometime in the middle of the story, after he cemented his position a the heir. But that's beside the point; Alberu had this whole act where he acted like he was totally confident he would and should become the ruler. But that was all a front.

He wished to become the king because he wanted to help people; the Dark Elves most of all. Did he believe himself worthy of it? Maybe a bit, he does have a bit of an ego haha. ...But definitely not completely. His insecurities become clear once we take a closer look.

He did not have flattering thoughts about his own race – he knew his people were considered "dirty" in the eyes of others. He was worried he wouldn't be able to have relationships because of his secrets (remember how he kept Choi Han at arm's length in the "Birth of a Hero" the whole time). Most of all, he was scared that he was not actually worthy of the throne. The moment he showed that vulnerability to Cale shows his growth the most, because I'm convinced that the Crown Prince at the beginning would NEVER have done that. And once Cale validates him and tells him upfront that he should be the king, Alberu sheds that doubt and allows himself to "step in".

Notice how most of the moments where Alberu personally takes action happened after that point. The fight with the White Star, the Earth 2 arc when Alberu was in charge of the army in Cale's absence, the Puzzle City battle. While not completely free just yet – I don't believe that will happen until his identity as a quarter Dark Elf gets revealed and the whole nation accepts him as their ruler despite his status – I had the feeling that Alberu "broke the final chains" that were holding him back mentally. He finally felt like he could take action and "become one of the main characters", you know?

Now, after all that, back to your original question. "Was there a clear progressive difference for Alberu Crossman's characterization between earlier chapters and after the war with the White Star?" I think the main thing is the confidence. Second would be how much support Alberu got, but I don't think that really counts as "characterization" and more of a "situation".

As for his "relationships with other characters"; we see that Alberu befriended more than just Cale. After Cale fainted in the Empire when the White Star showed up for the first time, we see that Alberu took care of things while he was unconscious. He was casually hanging out in Cale's room (Adin's room but whatever lol) in his true form where Cale's allies could walk in at any time. Which shows how much he trusted them; either not to do so or that it would not matter if they did. (Of course Raon and Eruhaben don't really count because they're Dragons and I'm sure Alberu knew he could not hide his identity from them, but the point still stands.) Alberu begun trusting Cale's people after trusting Cale himself, and that allowed him to make real friends outside his previously tight circle of family members from his mother's side. After that scene, Alberu really starts having a lot more fun scenes with other characters, such as giving cookies to the kids or hanging out with Choi Han. Remember that one time he jokingly asked him if "he would like to die with him"? There was definitely a big difference in how much he opened up.

So sum it all up: the confidence, the trust, and the degree Alberu was taking charge and his experience as a leader, all those things steadily grew throughout the series. There were other things of course, like Alberu personally growing stronger, or him getting more casual and snarky with Cale, but most of that happened pretty early on. ...Oh and the frequency of headaches and stress levels because of Cale's shenanigans, we can't forget those 😂. And in Part 2 (no major spoilers don't worry) Alberu continues his growth in a slow but steady pace, the degree of his involvement increasing in later arcs. ...As well as his personal hobbies lol. It IS subtle, but the character development is definitely there.

...I'm not sure if that answered your question to your satisfaction, but I hope it helps! 💖

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - and the wheel keeps turning

Guero has a reputation in the barracks. He knows people, and people know him, partially because he’s been running around the base since early Cat-3s and partially because he made it his business. He made sure the mid-level folks on the support side know to come to him when they need something from the dome without the fuss of the paperwork. He made sure the quartermaster always gives him and his first pick at the list if he doesn’t want his city activities exposed to the higher-ups. He made sure to drop in by the techs’ break room every other day for literal years and feed them whatever it is they aren’t getting through the official channels, in return for a little of the same. The Shatterdome machine rolls smoothly with a little grease, and Guero holds the oil canister.

It means he’s a busy man, and it means that he doesn’t like to waste his time if he can help it. When he reached out to the new guy, it was mostly because someone getting into the academy outside of a recruitment drive usually means they’ve got interesting friends. Reyes certainly turned out to have those, if not in the way Guero suspected.

“Decommissioned, my ass,” he mutters, watching the EPLS deliver an arc reactor to Hell Charger’s bay. Word in the hangar has it that Stark is personally overseeing installation, too. Some very interesting friends indeed.

“What do you even want with the jaegers, anyway,” Pavel groans, bored. “Didn’t you say there’s money in working the ground?”

“I did, and there is. But it’s risky, and I don’t have a good contact in the Bone Slums yet.” He has to be extra careful, talking to Hannibal Chau’s people. He isn’t willing to sell anything actually important. “Think about it, the rangers go anywhere they want. Even the brass doesn’t want to piss them off.”

“Isn’t it good, then, that Reyes made it in?”

Guero loves his friends dearly, but he’s painfully aware they’d be all doomed to the front lines if any of them was behind the wheel. Sometimes it’s like trying to keep a bunch of puppies from jumping into the lagoon. “Reyes is a lying piece of shit.”

“Eh,” Pavel shrugs. He’s more interested in watching the beastie fights on his phone than anything going on in the hangar. “No offence, man, but you give him too much credit. Lena said the blood lab all think the whole solo drift is bullshit. He’s gonna get a stroke the first time he goes out for real.”

Maybe. The D-Sci people know their odds. But so do the techs, and they have been surprisingly tight-lipped on the matter. Rumour has it that Stark has been trying to get his mini-armour program off the ground since he took over R&D – and suddenly a long-lost heir to The Charger turns up to pilot the damn thing solo? Guero likes to think he can read people pretty well, and Reyes didn’t strike him as a complete idiot. Naïve and in over his head, but not necessarily a patsy – even Brooks thought he was cheating on the sims. Someone who, with a bit of guidance, could help Guero get his foot in the damn door.

Besides, he did a little digging. Reyes Senior was easy – his photos are in the news reports from the time, and there was an obituary and everything. It even mentions a wife and children, even if no further detail. It’s his co-pilot that doesn’t show up in any searches. Probably a brother, because most rangers were related or married before Mk-3s, but everything about him has been scrubbed out from any database Guero managed to get his hands on. All he has is the old Filipino down in electrics ranting about a missing friend before his shift leader told Guero to scram, and several extremely vague recollections of an asshole nobody wanted to be around anyway. Which is just another piece of this puzzle that makes no sense – the rangers do everything in pairs, it’s their whole thing. The Romeo Blue brothers are said to be constantly at each other’s throats, but you can’t mention one without the other. All the other dead rangers have their dedicated entries on the memorial wall in the main hall. He checked both names around Alberto Reyes, and then the whole list from that year – every other one could be linked to a tech, or a janitor, or a soldier. Nobody unaccounted for, nobody ‘unassigned’, save for a girl who was only six years old and died a couple of months before Daggerblight anyway.

It's weird. It doesn’t follow what Guero has always understood as the way the Shatterdome operates. Rangers are damn near revered around here – this little information about the first ones to die from the corruption is just– maddening.

Guero Valdez doesn’t suffer being made a fool lightly. He’s going to figure this out if he has to beat the answers out of Reyes himself.

###

(ugh genuinely is he going too hard too quickly? I've had a Day so people making logical decisions as according to their internal compasses is a somewhat alien concept rn)

[amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet]

Random musing that I hope the Din's Temple arc is going to make pretty clear: Zelda can't be in the main party for Mark of a Hero for too long for the same reasons Gandalf can't be in the main party for too long. She is a divine wizard, and literally breaks the power scaling of any combat scene I want to write with her. She would one-shot 90% of the Mini Bosses & Bosses I've written so far. I know I said she's a level 3 wizard in the character sheets, but I mean like. Narratively. Mechanically, she's level 20 already, hands down.

There are more actual narrative reasons, chiefly in that as a major political figure (she's the heir to a nation) if Zelda jumped into the plot and started running around doing things, she runs into the issue of overriding local (and eventually foreign) governments. So the actions she has to take within narrative are more on political leveraging and intelligence gathering to allow the person who's "supposed" to be doing this stuff (our Hero) can do those things. The barriers she has are not ability, it's political liability. She could easily break the law and get things done, but what kind of future leader does that set her up to be? Link, as the Hero, does not have that restraint in movement, it's expected he'll show up. And also, Zelda is making sure he'll be welcomed if he does (in the Hero persona at least).

It also comes into some of the character contrast I want to have between Link and Zelda in MoaH as equal agents on the narrative, not one rescuing the other exclusively. If Zelda is also diving into these dungeons, it becomes harder to separate why Link specifically has the Triforce of Courage. Which is not to say Zelda isn't courageous, but she can't be equally courageous to Link. The two are meant to play off each other that way. Your lawful good, high tactics minded political official and your chaotic good, improvisational monster hunter. Long game vs short game, high profile vs low profile, Wisdom vs Courage.

Link is notably bad at politics and long term strategy, the Hero act is a rough attempt to convince the court of his title as Hero (since they have no in universe confirmation he is for sure the Hero) and not everyone is convinced. He is very good at solving short-term problems though, adaptation to things gone wrong, and immediate problem solving (like dungeon puzzles), which notably in MoaH, Zelda's not good at her plans getting thrown off. Eventually, they balance each other out that way. Link needs help thinking ahead, Zelda needs help adjusting quickly. They're a team, and their strengths are different. Compliments to each other. The threats that they're good at handling then are also different. Zelda could probably one shot most of the monsters outright, but it's Link's combat experience of learning and developing plans around monsters' weaknesses in the heat of battle that would get her the shot she needed. Which says nothing of his own ability to also fight those monsters.

Zelda is still an active agent in the story, we just don't see her front and center in the plot all the time. She's still doing plot, but the Link POV means the reader won't see that the whole way through. And not to get in my own head about my planning or whatever, but I wanted to ramble a little about the thought process behind the black cat autistic GF x golden retriever ADHD BF pairing that I have going for this Zelink story.

So much of the current formula, of Link being Zelda's knight/Hero/protector (and even with the reversal in EOW) has them chasing after each other rather than working together. And I think that reduces so much of Link's personality down to just "rescuing Zelda." Not to mention what it does to Zelda's personality. Rather than showing how they're equally competent, how they have personalities and lives outside of each other and also are strengthened and supported because of how they work well together. You know. Like a couple. God, just, let's circle back on this after Letter of the Law is out and I'll show you what I mean.

[amaiguri]

"He is not gone: In our Hour of Greatest Need On the Winter Solstice under the Serpentine Star, He will come again, with hair as black as night and eyes like fire. The rune of the sun will rest upon his brow. And bearing the Sword of Promised Victory, he shall bring peace. And war shall be no more." - Chanson du Roi

(Art Courtesy of @tarlartist)

The Once & Future Emperor

Once upon a time, long before you and I ever walked the earth, there was a great Empire known as Thuille. Thuille was ruled by a great many Old Emperors, who were each buried in a Trialhall - dangerous crypts which held traps, puzzles, riddles, or tests of strength. It was said the first one to pass previous Emperor's trial was to be the new Emperor.

The last and greatest of these Emperors was Riavh Solais. He was born the son of the Sagelady Scathach and a male Dragon, whom she seduced with her wits and her earthy nature which he could never have. Scathach taught him songs of the earth and sea, but his father's ambition and fiery nature filled him always.

Riavh was a wild but clever child whose curiosity got him into trouble as well as back out of it. He challenged an Empyreal Lord to a game of riddles and won. The Empyreal Lord was so angry that he slew his Lady-Sage mother. Riavh was left then to wander the world alone.

The Emperor before him left an enchanted sword stuck in an anvil and said that only the Once and Future Emperor and his rightful heir would be able to remove it. Many strong men attempted to remove it. What these men could not see was that there was an invisible enchantment on the sword and only saying the sword's true name would cause it to release from the anvil.

Riavh Solais, however, was born missing his left eye. This gave him the power to see the Weave of the World. He was but a boy at the time, barely aged fourteen. Yet the sword called to him. He went to the sword, knelt before it, and said, "O mighty Fragarach, I am not the wisest nor the strongest, but I swear, upon names of my fathers and forefathers before them, that I will lead Thuille to its promised victory. Will you accept me as your Master?"

With that, he grasped the sword and lifted it from the anvil with ease. And from then on, he ruled as a fair and just Emperor. His rule expanded across the whole of the North. Under his rule, sealfolk, hornedfolk, men, and women all lived in harmony. And even the spiderfolk from west came and left peacefully. During his conquests, Riavh was often assisted by Dragons - sent by his father to watch over him.

One day, a beautiful woman came to Emperor Riavh Solais' court. She had hair the color of the sea and silver eyes and she moved with a ethereal grace so much so that every officer in Riavh's army proposed to her. But she turned them all down, saying that she would only marry the man who could guess her true name. They called her "Sitheach" meaning "Fairy", both for her beauty and her strange ability to predict the future.

Unlike Fragarach, however, Riavh could not read her true name for it was not engraved on her body. And so, he did not pursue her. Instead, he allowed her to safely adjourn in his court, asking her advice on all things and heeding her wise council. In return, he taught her magic and fighting. She came to admire him for his wisdom and humility, as well as his pride and temperance. And so, she wrote her name in magic on the ceiling above his bed. He was able to read it and the two were wed. On her coronation, the now-Queen announced her birthday "Yeultide" as a celebration of her coming to this land. When asked, Riavh admitted this was a hint to her name, but he never revealed her name to anyone. Maybe you will be the one to figure it out.

Their love was fruitful and soon, a son was born. However, shortly after his birth, Sitheach - mysteriously as she had arrived - left the court and vanished into the mists and the boy was motherless. In his grief, Riavh still raised the boy as best he could before remarrying - a Sagelady like his mother. The prince admired his father above all else and yet, he always stood in his father's shadow. He was jealous, both of his father and his father's beautiful new wife - who took all his father's love away from him, he thought.

One night, when the prince turned fourteen, he stole Fragarach and decided to kill the Sagelady Queen. He snuck into her room and found her in bed with another man, one of Riavh's best officers, Lanfrac. The prince dragged them into Court and demanded justice in his father's name. The two begged for their lives and Riavh couldn't bring himself to execute them. And so, he sent them both away from his court.

The prince was so aghast that he declared his father to be a weak Emperor and rallied half the Empire against him. A bloody war was fought in which hundreds of lives were lost. Riavh could have won easily by summoning the Dragons, but he did not want to force his father to choose between his son and grandson, and so there were no Dragon sightings during this time.

Riavh met his son on the battlefield at Cuilline and demanded that single-combat end this, to which the prince agreed. The two fought and the Emperor Riavh emerged victorious but he was so exhausted that his arms and legs both fell off.

As he lay dying, Sitheach returned to him with magical armor to replace his arms and legs. She revealed herself to have the power to see the future, and she foresaw his downfall and journeyed far across the sea so he would not die in this moment. She said the world was not ready for an Emperor so gentle and so pure but they would be someday. And she laid him to rest, promising to reawaken him when Thuille needed him the most. His awakening would be heralded by the return of Dragons to the North.

And at last, his heart could be at ease.

The Saegari

Song of the Sage King - A Saegen Song about the Last Thuillean King

O-oh once there lived the most greatest king of kings And for his re-eign, the Dra-a-gons sing He pulled a sword from trialhall's firm stone A-And used his might to claim his northern throne

And then his kingdom ca-ame to cover far and wide With the Dra-agons by-y hi-is side And from the Empyre to the east To the land of the-e spiderbeasts

Such was the Thuille of Saegari!

O Long reign the Saegari He was fair as fair can be And he-e will rise to come again And the whole world wide will know his name (2x)

Hyr dit jav, rivanjan jaga riva vymrja Or fet lir rivr yvjipa sirilin fava Lir osjiert shan dren me'ar or jalrja Aelni heime fet fadur or fo marja Or av lir heime ael arlyrja Il Yvjipen, lir vragmenrja Dren Njynheime suringrae A Hetheil Suraerae Di Thul sehrja til Saegari

[weregreatatcrime]

I'm sick and rereading Two Halves and I know I leave a lot (A LOT) of stuff in the end notes but there's actually lots of stuff I still never mention or talk about so here's a long sick (midday) ramble about things I didn't get the chance to talk about but wanted to (in somewhat of an order reminded by rereading) or at least just some lines I particularly enjoyed

It's time for chapter 7 while I fight off the sick urge to Nap. Warning for VERY dark content including suicidal ideation and Murder

I really enjoyed this chapter because I got to fully embrace and showcase some of Karai’s sadistic, bloodthirsty nature that I just hadn't been able to show yet. She's a changeling and a raised and trained assassin who hates humans. She can get NASTY when she's given the opportunity to, and the fic hadn't allowed that before this chapter. Finally I got to write my true murder girl 🧡

The very secret game between Shredder and Karai over what Foot ninja are loyal to whom. Some genuinely would rather follow Karai than him, while others just see her as a lesser of two evils. Of course this isn't all very up front- Shredder is in charge first and foremost, so of course, they all obey him. Some just... prefer to listen to the heir, when given the chance...

Shredder allows the heresy only because it's something of a game between father and daughter :) Plus she'll inherit the clan anyways, it's good to have men who will be immediately loyal to her when she does. The majority are still loyal to Him.

Even ninjas forget to look Up sometimes. Especially in their super secure throne room that shouldn't be Capable of having spies around

"Prime indicator that [Shredder] was smug about something that probably violated the Geneva Convention."

Xever was my FAVORITE villain in 2k12 as a kid. Nowadays it's Stockman, but I still have a lot of fondness for the evil murder fish

Changeling Karai makes a game of tormenting her father's Lieutenants, and Xever is her favorite toy. He's thoroughly petrified of her. He's one of the few who knows even a bit of just how far her sadistic nature goes

Karai’s first reaction to hearing she'd been *seen* while doing a secret mission was to launch herself headfirst off the roof and I wish I could say that's hyperbole, but uh, nope, that's quite literally her greatest fear and can result in her death so suicide can potentially be a better way to go than risking being hunted down by the Order

Xever thoroughly believes Karai is just manipulating the turtles so she can get in close and stab em where it hurts. From his experience, this is absolutely what she would do, and Karai has never proved him wrong about her malicious streak before

Xever equally as terrified of the Shredder because of the fact that she CLEARLY got it from him

Karai WISHES she could blow everything up on the way out like Stockman, but she can't risk the Order sticking their noses in before she's done. So she's gotta settle with dropping a metaphorical bomb instead

Karai, maybe leaving Shinigami on read is actually the WORSE option than not leaving her any sign at all

While thinking of what Karai would make into her changeling key, it didn't take me very long to think of something she would frequently have on her that would be inconspicuous. Eyeliner. That red is fire

Changelings have a LOT of backups and backups for backups

"Xever was fond of severing fingers, and she didn’t want to have to cauterize anything mid rescue."

The entire rescue scene just makes me happy. This is Karai in her element. Killing people right in plain sight without being caught, disappearing with their corpses before they're seen. This is changeling Karai doing what she was trained her whole life to do and she is GOOD at it.

Donnie was in fact drugged a second time to keep him down for a bit

Karai personally when picking a hostage turtle would've picked either Mikey or Leo, but she doesn't know about Shredder’s own plan for Donnie, so she's a bit puzzled

Personally, if Karai had designed it, rather than a bomb she would've used a biochemical agent that could've been pumped right into his bloodstream on either a programmed signal or upon someone attempting to remove it. What that agent would be would entirely depend on how much she hated the person in question

Karai has a real love for poisons that doesn't get a lot of time to shine, but it DOES pop in here and there

Despite her fucking with him, Karai did always respect Xever more than a lot of other Lieutenants. He's a lot more cunning and willing to use underhanded tactics which of course appeals to her

Ngl tempted to write a whump one-shot of what would've happened if Karai HAD shown up a bit later for the rescue

I ranted enough about fish biology in the end notes, I don't need to go on about it again here

Karai paralyzed Xever with he sword through the neck, but he WAS still alive. Just completely unable to do anything about it. Hence why she initially assumed he was dead. Sword through the skull was enough to end it though

Actually sending a sword through his thick skull required a lot of muscle, hence why she needed to put some oomph into it. Her changeling form would've managed fine but human form is a lot weaker

Imagine the scene they walked into later. Two dead foot ninja, Xever dead with Karai’s sword placed dramatically through the top of his head, the turtle missing, NONE of the cameras working, and the ONLY thing they have is a few clips of Karai sneaking in and one single shot of her dragging Donatello out of the lab while flipping off the camera. Fucking amazing

Yes, I play dnd. Sometimes when writing I use a d20 to make decisions when I can't decide because all my options are tempting. It's a great writing hack- especially because if you REALLY hate your roll, you discover that you actually did have a preferred option

[misireads]

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

[ physical book, read in english ]

set in a (post-apocalyptic??) world with nine planets, or "houses" that basically function like countries in this universe, gideon is a grumpy sword-wielding butch living as a servant on the ninth which is a dark planet inhabited by old people, animated skeletons, and some sort of skeleton cultists. gideon has tried to escape numerous times, but her attempts are always thwarted by her childhood nemesis, harrowhark, who is the princess of the planet and a necromancer with bone magic powers. this time harrowhark promises gideon her her freedom if only she accompanies harrow to the first planet to participate in some sort of intergalactic event where the heir of each planet has the opportunity to become a lyctor, i.e. some sort of immortal hero who serves the necrolord emperor of the whole universe, but the heirs are supposed to have cavaliers fighting for them so harrow wants gideon to be hers. gideon reluctantly agrees and they take a space shuttle to the event site on the first, along with the other necromancer&cavalier pairs from planets two to eight. all of them are strange characters, but gideon befriends a few. little by little, through some budding cooperative friendships, it's revealed that the trial they're supposed to conduct is made up of solving necromantic puzzles with the help of the cavaliers that then grant them keys to open doors to new spaces in the enormous delapitated mansion they're staying at where they find more clues to what they're actually there to do. it's all necrofun and swordgames until one heir&cav pair is found dead.

➕ this is like, the (gay) gothic body horror YA fantasy of my dreams. this book was made for me. i'm superglad for my habit of not reading the covers or nothin because all the contents came as a COMPLETE surprise to me. well i knew this was fantasy but other than that. nothing prepared me for the very first pages talking about gideon "walking down to her mother's nameless catacomb niche" and "skeletons going to pick at the snow leeks in the planter fields." i had to take a double take like wha wha WHAAAAT exactly did i read just now? but you get used to it. the whimsy never ends but you get used to skeletons cleaning houses and bones growing from unexpected places in this book

➕ the language. oh i am a lover of words. this book has so so many strange words, and strange ways of using those words. i didn't look all of them up because that would take forever, but i feel like every time i did look a word up, the meaning was somehow related to death, graves, or bones. delightful! also just a lot of looking up how something is pronounced because i need to be accurate for my audience (which is me)

➕ related but this is SO VISCERALLY VERBALLY VIOLENT, doesn't shy away at all from the main characters almost bleeding to death several times.

➕ what is there not to love about a setting with character pairs who work in tandem tbh. this also did everything right in this regard that fucking throne of glass did wrong lmao. even with the mild romance undertones. of which there weren't super much, mostly gideon being gay over some of the ladies. and gideon and harrowhark have a kind of an enemies-to-lovers thing going on which i am so fucking here for. the male characters really took a back seat here, it was all about the ladies. and the main ladies walk around in black robes and skeleton face paint. man. the aesthetics are so good. i don't think anything can top this anymore, i'll now forever be thinking "this is good but it's no locked tomb"

➕ although guys took the back seat i still managed to get a fucking cupid's arrow through my heart, i was so oooooooooo in love with palamedes, like, from the moment he and camilla first appeared, love love. i even managed to have dreams about him already i'm not joking, i fell hard, him and his beautiful eyes……… guh. i've never been so worried over a character's fate while reading a book!!!! [spoilers] but then i rather enjoyed how he went out anyway so.. i wasn't super mad… it was also becoming evident at that point that the rest of the trilogy does not feature this set of characters anyway so i knew he'd just fucking die any minute now so it wasn't so bad, i was emotionally prepared. writing love letters since he was a tiny little child tho. UGH I LOVE HIM!!!!!!! PLEASE WRITE ME A LETTER TOO I'm DYINGH

➕ gideon is so… like i just really enjoyed her being like this metal as fuck gal who's constantly cursing and goofing around and shit but then she surprises you by being so kind about other characters, mostly girls. she's surprisingly sentimental also. her characterisation is amazingly strong too for a story in third person instead of first, it's very effortless to be in her shoes here.

➖ the eccentric language wasn't just all positive, sometimes i didn't really follow what the dialogue was about. it all came together from context and just character actions in the end but i feel like a lot went over my head anyway. the beginning also confused me so much before i really grasped the vibe here. this prolly warrants a re-read

➖ relatedly a lot of this felt like... well basically the characters didn't really explain themselves much, which read a bit weirdly sometimes. like they just know things and that's it. there's almost under-exposition here, where things are just already known by the characters and the reader (and gideon) is always lagging a bit behind. it made me feel stupid

➖ i really became quite attached to the characters and was hoping the whole trilogy would be about them… alas……. they started dying

⭐ score: 5- -- VERY nearly a full five. but. i have this unspoken rule to myself that there needs to be a ship for a book to be a five to me. i mean, gideon and harrowhark… yes they are good. buuuuut… did i get The Doki Dokis? not really, more like i just, appreciated them? yes.

[king-mera]

10 and 21 for Ghostbusters, 20 for Alice

choose violence ask game

10- worst part of fanon (Ghostbusters)

Worst part of GB fanon is the same thing that bothers me in almost every fandom, the overemphasis on shipping. I have nothing against shipping, whether it's with canon characters, OCs, self inserts, etc. and there are ships I enjoy too! It just irks me how that's become the focus of much of the fan content (at least on tumblr). I swear, the way some people talk about the characters, you'd think this was a dating sim and not a horror-comedy from the 80s. Sometimes it's feels like everyone forgot this franchise is about… You know… Chasing ghosts? Romance is a side dish here, not the main course. Semi-related to that is some of the more inappropriate behavior I've seen from some users. The things people say about the actors, both young and old (one of whom passed away!) is creepy and disrespectful. I'd rather not go into detail. I get that the original movies had sex jokes, and NSFW is inevitable in every fandom, I just think that some people take things too far.

21- part of canon you think is overhyped (Ghostbusters)

Some of you are going to hate me for saying this, but Ghostbusters: The Video Game has not aged well. Don't get me wrong, it's a fun experience and one I'd like to replay some day, but I don't think it functions as a worthy sequel to the first two movies. I may be biased since I like Afterlife so much, but even before the new movie came out, the game still never felt like the true third installment to me. We revisit a lot of the same set pieces from the movie and encounter many of the same ghosts, which feels like retreading the same ground. The new elements that were introduced with the mandala guardians & Shandor's cult are interesting, but I found it weird that Shandor had a descendant. He was a misanthrope who wanted to end the world, why would he have heirs? I guess it's to sacrifice one so we can see how evil he is… But we already KNEW he was evil because he's trying to end the whole world! Ilyssa is an odd character too, why'd they give Peter a new love interest after he got back together with Dana in GB2? Plus, not being able to customize our character or drive the Ecto-1 is disappointing (Spirits Unleashed would only grant us the former option years later). I do enjoy the game, it's nice to hear Harold Ramis as the voice of Egon one last time, and I would like to believe parts of it are still canon. I just don't think of it as "Ghostbusters 3" like some others do.

20- part of canon you found tedious or boring (Alice)

The Oriental Grove is TOO DAMN LONG. Honestly all of AMR gets tedious but this level takes the cake. We have to go through three scrolls and three slides and three puzzle/fight/platform segments and WHY DID THERE HAVE TO BE THREE? And of course our reward for this is the same as the end of every other level, no bossfight and a cutscene giving us vague information. If you want to see a level similar to this, but done better, check out Cassie's Collection in Psychonauts 2.

[cherry-blossom-inferno]

-Okay, I gotta address the Goneril thing first because it comes from a big misunderstanding that comes from going from Japanese to English. Cyril is not meant to be a Goneril slave. Cyril is not a (奴隷) Dorei aka a slave. He's a Shiyōnin (使用人) aka an employee/servant. He's not property, he's an employee and the Gonerils were bad bosses that employed him after he was captured. Cyril just found better employment under Rhea hence his title in his bio is servant to the Archbishop just like his bio mentions he was a servant to House Goneril. That's why the House Goneril slave issue topic isn't really a thing in Japan compared to the West.

-I wouldn't use FEH as an indicator because their decisions are based on who makes more money. Like Bernadetta has her base and 2 alts and Hubert just has his base but I wouldn't say they put more effort into Bernadetta's writing than Hubert's (I wish they did) or that they prioritize Bernie's importance over Hubert's. Edelgard just has the most stans that shell out money for her hence she's given better treatment than Dimitri and Claude.

-I don't think you're giving Claude his just due. Everyone outside Edelgard is just a side-note when you go outside their routes. Dimitri gets off-screened in Verdant Wind & Silver Snow having done nothing of note. Dimitri only gets slightly better screentime than Claude does in Crimson Flower but only slightly and Claude gets treated better in Azure Moon than Dimitri did in Verdant Wind so it evens out.

And in Hopes, I'd argue he's on level with them. He determines who wins the war or doesn't win the war for example and he's always on your side.

In SB, Edelgard can't win without Claude so he determines whether she succeeds or it continues indefinitely if you choose the path where he betrays you. He's even the one that plans out the climatic Battle of Aillel for them.

In AG, Dimitri can't win without Claude and even moreso here, he's the one who plans Dimitri's final campaign with his initial "Many-headed Snake" idea.

In GW, well he's the lord there and it's the closest we will get to a golden route for three houses although not for the Church.

And if we look at it more closely and compare, just look at Azure Gleam where Edelgard gets turned into a plot device/puppet by Part 2 . Azure Gleam Claude, on the other hand, gets plenty of screentime and he has more lines in Azure Gleam than most of the Blue Lions:

Here's the line count btw:

Dimitri: 889 (923 with lord supports) 2. Shez: 586 3. Felix: 257 4. Arval: 225 5. Rodrigue: 204 6. Dedue: 179 7. Claude: 174 (192 with lord support) 8. Sylvain: 160 9. Ingrid: 131 10. Annette: 129

(this includes Explore Dialogue so Claude would end up above Dedue and Rodrigue if this was just cutscenes and battle dialogue)

Claude's got more screentime than Dimitri does in Scarlet Blaze as well.

-Anyways, I guess the character is not for you which is fair but Claude's just a very different character from Dimitri and Edelgard in framing. Dimitri and Edelgard (once the mask comes off) are very upfront about what they want. Claude hides everything even from the people he trusts so his characterization is much more subtle which fits with the whole "smile doesn't reach his eyes" thing. Claude's just meant to be a cipher. He's a puzzle that you have to really think about to unravel or you'll just end up confused. And the games acknowledge that he's objectively meant to be like that.

Engage's description of him:

"Known as the Emblem of Rivals. A calculating and enigmatic heir to a dukedom."

Heroes' description of him:

"The heir of Duke Riegan, head of the Leicester Alliance. He’s a hard man to get a grasp of, and employs means both fair and foul to get his way."

-On Almyra, they're not evil for the lolz. They're a warrior culture that that prizes survival of the fittest and strength. You didn't get the Claude paralogue in Hopes but they touch on it a bit more that the royal family is fighting itself to see who becomes king. This toxic culture all feeds into why Claude should want to change Almyra so bad and partially why he is the way he is at the start of the game in that he prefers to do everything solo and how much of a change it is when he ends his story with a speech on how individuals are weak by themselves but that together they can scale even insurmountable walls.

Obviously, more Almyra would've been great but that's not the story. The story is Edelgard's war and the 3 different perspectives on it.

-To be fair, they do that with the Eagles and Lions too. How many jokes have they made out of Caspar after talking about murder? Remember when Sylvain started talking about how everything could've changed if he made a move on Edelgard one second before Dimitri goes throw a breakdown in Houses. They do it more with the Deer but that's just the vibes of the House. The Deer are always pretty jovial and Claude even lampshades it during the Ordelia chapter in Hopes that nothing gets them down. But I do understand where you're coming from and how that might bother you. I enjoy black humor but it's not for everyone.

-I agree with you on Dimitri but disagree with Edelgard. Hubert does say in SB after they kill Gilbert that they would leave Faerghus alone if they gave them the Archbishop. Now Edelgard later thinks that Faerghus and the Church have become one by the end so it's better if they just dissolve Faerghus.

But I don't think Edelgard says that about the Church just being an excuse. She means what she says about the Church because they're in the way of her imposing her ideals on Fodlan as a whole.

I'm 50/50 on whether she would go to war to unite the continent if Claude and Dimitri run their countries like she wants and if the Central Church is dissolved. Specifically in Hopes though, not Houses because her alliance with TWSITD makes it impossible.

-Edelgard's world isn't feudalism. It's a dictatorship-run meritocracy. There's no caste system in Edelgard's world where there are nobles and commoners. There, will of course, still be a rich and a poor but those are issues we haven't even solved in our world.

Her world gradually phases out the nobles for salary-paid bureacrats(mentioned her support with Constance). Claude's endpoint, at least in GW, is an elective monarchy + meritocracy but he plans to hand Fodlan off to someone else to deal with it since he has to change Almyra too and he has to do both to achieve his dream.

Dimitri doesn't plan to end the nobility. He plans to make more commoners into nobles which is an improvement but not ideal because you still have a system that decides who rules based on birth.

And yes, if left alone, all countries would improve from before, I agree. But Edelgard would improve things faster because she has more radical ideals and she's so much forceful and stronger whereas Dimitri is afraid of pushing too hard because of the Tragedy of Duscur. Buuuut Edelgard's way involves more death so….pick a side there.

Also I want to mention that Claude isn't slaughtering half of Faerghus. He's being exceedingly light-touched in his campaign with Faerghus. He's taking the quickest way to Fhirdiad(he literally just goes through Fraldarius and Blaiddyd lands although he does involve Gautier in a fight with Sreng), mentions that he'd prefer to ignore taking forts if he could and balks at excessive bloodshed. Claude's also trying to end the war faster to reduce casulaties albeit in his ideal way.

Golden Wildfire Ch 11

On we go to ch 11. Things are . . . uh . . . interesting.

MAIN STORY

So if you didn't see ch 10, I failed to recruit Byleth. I retried the level a few time, but honestly I just want to finish this game so I didn't bother.

Plus, the reason I failed was that Claude just sat there instead of moving forward on the escort mission, which got really frustrating, and honestly I didn't want to bother.

Ugh, I don't want to fight the Kingdom.

So those Houses that wanted to defect to the Kingdom didn't because Claude's battle was that bloody in that fire map.

Poor Dimitri and co seems like he's just betting bullied for no real reason by two imperialistic maniacs.

I love how Arval is getting snooty over Shez getting credit for their tactics lamo.

Man, this dialogue is dragging.

So Nadar is going to cause diplomatic chaos by utilizing the Almyran army without getting real permission.

Wait, Claude riled up Sreng? So much for "ending racism" lamo. Wasn't having two cultures not be prejudice against each other like his MO? The writers really just threw him in the trash, hunh.

I feel so bad for Claude fans. He's really a piece of work in this.

MAP/SIDE STUFF

Everyone missing Judith has a lot more punch than Randolph. Even Monica was like "get over it" to Fleche (but nicely).

So, let me make sure I have this right. Mr. I Want to End Prejudice Between Cultures just provoked Sreng into attacking the Kingdom so Edelgard can take it over because Rhea is the reason for everything bad. Did I get that right?

Unlike SB, GW is entertaining as hell, but man is the logic here is just non-existant. And poor Claude RIP.

Like, I know I'm biased and all, but I don't see how you're supposed to be the heroes and not Dimitri here. The people just defending themselves are getting attacked on all 3 fronts for the crime of *existing.*

Not going to lie. I kinda wish Claude didn't side with you in AG either. It would've been hype to kick everyone's ass as Dimitri after getting cornered by all these land-grabbers.

GW!Claude is really just the mean girl's sidekick. 😂

If Felix and Rodrigue die in this chapter I swear to God . . . (I just remembered Rodrigue is dead in SB now 😭 - LET THIS MAN SURVIVE).

I had to fight Felix in a side mission. Lysithea said they had to "defend this place" - like, girl, you are invading.

When the challenge is "you can't dodge" but you're using Lorenz 😌👌 (FYI, he just does not take damage in this game)

SHEZ & HILDA A SUPPORT

They're talking about how Hilda exerted energy in a battle because she worried about Shez.

Hilda claims it's just self-defense bc she was cheering for Shez on the front lines and enemies were there (honestly, this is pretty boring so far)

It's the same-old Hilda claiming she's weak but that not being true.

SHEZ & CONSTANCE C SUPPORT

I know she's an Empire character, but whatever.

She wants to create new magics to restore her noble house and wants to research Shez bc of their weird magic

Lamo, Constance low-key called us dumb

Shez suggests she get her house back through military accomplishments.

Constance refuses to train right now, she wants to at night (it's her dual personality thing, right?)

CLAUDE & LYSITHEA B SUPPORT

Their first one. Claude's unhappy Lysithea charged in the last battle. But Lysithea kicked ass, so she's upset with Claude.

Claude calls her plan dumb and that he thought Lysithea was smarter than that. Lysithea still argues it ended earlier bc of her.

Lysithea doesn't back down.

Honestly, I side with her here. Claude's being patronizing. And it's rich of him not to care about all the other deaths dragging out the battle would cause and only Lysithea dying because she's *important*

CLAUDE & HOLST A SUPPORT

Oof, this one hurts. Claude accuses the church of creating all the systems to serve their own interests, because he doesn't know the truth here. That the Empire actually created most of it, and that all the church ever did was protect a genocided race from being murdered by more power-hungry humans.

It's also hysterical to hear Claude talk about wanting to improve foreign relations while instigating a war between two cultures.

Oof, Holst doesn't care about any of this. He's only worried Claude's going to send Hilda to marry a big, brown, scary foreigner. NOT a good look.

Holst says he cares more about Hilda's future than the whole Alliance. Yikes.

HILDA & HOLST A SUPPORT

They're preparing a feast.

Oh, it's nice to see Hilda's insecurities about Holst's "perfection" come up in this, bc so far she hadn't said much.

After that last support though, Holst is actually a pretty shitty leader.

Holst wants to make the feast all about Hilda instead of himself though. Hilda likes the attention.

Hilda basically had to set up her own feast lol.

HILDA & LINHARDT A SUPPORT

Hilda's cleaning, and Linhardt's honestly upset that he's lost a fellow lazy person.

Hilda claims she never pushes work on people. That, is a lie.

Linhardt is mostly worried how bad it'll look if he's the only one not working instead one of two.

All this support confirms that Linhardt is by far the superior lazy.

LORENZ & LYSITHEA A SUPPORT

Their only support.

So, not related to their support (and watch it counter it), but I find it pretty amusing how getting a leadership position faster matured Felix and Sylvain, but Lorenz is still a bit of a joke and the butt-end of every support he's in.

He's just bragging about how awesome his position and power is.

Lysithea says she's not inheriting her house. She claims it's because she doesn't like what comes with nobility, but we all know why.

She worried that the land will go to chaos without it's leaders though. Lorenz offers help (which, imo, he's actually mature here!)

Lorenz suspects she's turning it down for another reason and encourages her to rely on others to help.

RAPHAEL & LEONIE B SUPPORT

Raphael keeps snapping bows in half when he uses them. Leonie's shocked.

Leonie seems to actually make one and invites Raphael to test it while on guard duty with her.

IGNATZ & MARIANNE B SUPPORT

Marianne found his picture. He puts it down, but she likes it (it's a horse, well a pegasus, but of course)

Ignatz gets carried away talking about it, but Marianne finds it cute.

Ignatz finds Marianne loving pegasus cute. She blushes.

He wants Marianne's help, helping him paint a pegasus bc they don't like men, but if Marianne is around he can get closer and get a better painting. She's happy to help.

Honestly, this whole support is really cute.

MAIN BATTLE/STORY

It sucks having to attack the Kingdom over and over again when all they want to do is exist in peace.

Oh, joy, Nadar wants to plunder Faerghus. I can see why Fodlan is so evil for not wanting to let them do what they will.

GW really had a chance here to finally do something interesting with Almyra. It even marketed itself as a route that WOULD. But instead it's just doubled-down on Almyra being a one-note lawless place full of barbarians. At least we have Brigid and Duscur so the only brown country isn't some racist stereotype. Since it's only 1 of 3, it's not AS bad of a look.

Fuck. I don't want to kill Felix and Rodrigue. It would be one thing if the Kingdom actually provoked this, but Felix and Rodrigue haven't done anything to deserve this.

I get to recruit Ashe again. Is he miserable here too?

Ugh, I was hoping Felix and Rodrigue weren't here. It seems vastly unfair that it's only Kingdom characters who die for reel in this.

Wow. Claude's really an A-class asshole. He told Ashe to surrender because Dimitri wouldn't want him to die. Maybe don't invade for no reason then?

Is Claude also going to single Felix out as a citizen of Faerghus who deserves to live? Or does only Ashe count and not the nobles and unnamed grunts he's slaughtering because he decided to team up with the person who plans on taking over his rule? (not hate to Ashe at all, I honestly feel awful for him in this game)

Ok, so fighting Felix is just a side quest. I'd rather fail a side quest than fight Felix so, going to try to avoid having to kill him. Ugh, he's attacking the engineers. And he's damn right saying he has every right to kill the people who are invading his home.

Thank God, he just retreated.

I still love how Claude got bent out of shape over Ashe, but Lorenz alone has killed 500 citizens of Faerghus this chapter so . . .

Felix is so worried about Rodrigue. I swear the writers wanted you to feel like shit playing this route.

Oh, fuck. Just when I thought I was finished killing people for defending themselves, Daddy Gautier shows up :( He's sacrificing himself to safe Felix and Rodrigue, isn't he?

Oh, fuck. He died for real 😭

It's really hard to like these characters, making mindless chit-chat after killing Sylvain's daddy. I hope Sylvain fucks them up a new one.

I've never wanted to slap a character more than I'd love to slap Claude right now. The moron has the audacity to be surprised people are going to die while he's invading a foreign country. What a fucking stupid moron.

He's also blaming - get this right - chivalry.

I'm like. I'm speechless right now.

That's right guys. Margrave Gautier died defending his king, his country, his home, and most importantly one of his fucking best friends from an asshole invader. But it's CULTURE'S fault he died.

I'm really confused what the hell Claude thinks he's doing. Does he REALLY think killing Rhea will magically allow people to live as they please? Didn't he grow up in another country where they had princes and shit and NO Rhea?? All he's doing is making Edelgard's take over easier.

This is starting to feel like a borderline spoof. Look at us end the war by invading another nation!!! I mean???

What's his plan? Kill everyone in Faerghus - profit - "freedom" from Rhea - Edelgard takes over - no profit???

The writing in this route has gotten really fucking stupid. Like, I LIKE the idea of evil!Claude. Either a Claude who wants to take over all of Fodlan or one who's ruthless and will do anything to preserve Leicester.

But what I don't like is really fucking dumb Claude, which is what GW's devolved into.

Oh, God, now we get a flashback between father and son. Sylvain and Gautier :(

Sylvain better not be fucking recruitable in this route.

Now Sylvain's in charge 😭😭😭😭

I'm convinced someone who's a major Edelgard stan wrote the larger plot of this, but then a Dimitri stan wrote the actual dialogue 😅

We really go from one moment Claude being like - it's Rhea's fault Gautier died bc Kingdom culture bad because church bad to Sylvain being like, naw, he died defending his friends.

At the very least, I'll give Hopes credit here. At least they didn't write anyone opposing Edelgard as either evil or like they're idiots for resisting invasion, but I almost feel like they made the Kingdom especially too sympathetic which makes Edelgard look more interesting (since SB is more honest than CF) and Claude just look like a bozo. Rhea just doesn't look like anything since she's not even here.

Though, I REALLY wish Claude didn't side with us in AG. I really wish we got to see Faerghus backed into a corner and kick everyone's asses. They've very much the underdog and watching them do that would've been awesome.

Felix and Rodrigue are beating themselves up over this.

See, this is what I mean - Sylvain just said he's reserving all his hatred for the foreign invaders who take everything for no reason - I really feel like a Dimitri fan saw how everyone collectively decided to take a dump on the Kingdom in the big plot and got revenge by making everyone look like villains (or morons in Claude's case) for doing so in the writing.

xxx

[ct-multifandom]

Post-AINI Thoughts

Spoilers for the whole game

First of all I’ll link my collaborative doodle whiteboard again for visibility. Obsessed with everything people have added so far,,, immaculate. If you haven’t been on it yet, go! (I hid a little something on it, too >:))

https://r9.whiteboardfox.com/91979430-1215-3634

I felt this way about game 1, but the English casting and voice direction for these games are always so good? So I looked up who’s in charge, and the director is Courtney Sanford with Robby Daymond as assistant director. I’ve never heard of him so I clicked on his link, and his directing project before AINI was the new Pinocchio movie??? Hit me like a semi truck dude you’re telling me the guy responsible for directing the great VA in AI is the same guy behind “THE WHOLE WORLDUSSY”??? I haven’t seen the movie, so maybe the VA is actually pretty good and that one part is just too easy to meme, but that threw me for a loop.

Saw lmaonade’s Aiba crewmate drawing which is fun because I posted an Aiba crewmate drawing last week, and someone in the notes said Aiba crewmate was the first thing they drew after seeing her… can we make this into one of those fake Mandela effect things like Greeble Simpson? Hive mind. In a parallel world Aiba IS a crewmate and we’re all using our SHIT abilities to see her.

I think it’s funny how Mamoru is a normal, somewhat decent guy who just happens to be employed by the minor villain of the story in both games. Imagine in AI3 there’s a character who seems very innocent and unassuming, but we find out they just employed Mamoru as their bodyguard which makes them instantly suspicious.

Thinking about how Amame dreamed about fighting Komeji for his title as Quiz King. If he’s the king, Amame would be the heir to the “throne” after his death, but she didn’t want it to happen this way. She’d rather have him back and wishes she could’ve become the quiz champion by playing against him until she surpassed him, which she will never have the ability to do. And this is a dream she has six years after his death showing how much she misses him

Also the irony of Uru seeing Amame and thinking that their encounter was fateful because he was entranced by her, and he was half-right since it was fateful, just that the fate was his own death

I started one of NicoB’s let’s play videos and someone commented how Komeji’s head being square could symbolize how he’s incapable of “thinking outside the box” which is why his somnium is so straight forward that it doesn’t have any puzzles or weird dream stuff in it. And how his “comedy” is just stories about what Shoma said because Shoma’s the creative and funny one. That commenter is a genius. I should watch Nico’s whole let’s play and read the comment section because someone always has some crazy analysis and trivia in there.

The canon explanation is apparently just “what’s the most fucked up character design I can make without it being too ridiculous”

I was expecting Ushidera to be the asshole “get out of my way, the adults are talking” detective trope, but turns out he’s just a guy with the snazzy detective aesthetic. The scene where Bibi gives him chocolate to butter him up is pretty cute

Hitomi is the CEO of finding random, injured, sketchy people on the ground and taking them home

I think if you gave Tokiko a copy of Super Mario 64 she’d have that shit wrapped up and 100%ed in under an hour. Any% in 10 min

I headcanon Shoma as being a trans guy. It makes sense with his VA being a trans guy and him not going to high school. Also angst headcanon that Komeji chose Shoma’s new name, as explained in Shoma’s somnium, based on the time he spent with his son growing up and getting to know him.

I love the fashion in the AI universe because it’s fairly diverse among characters’ individual tastes, but it has such a distinct “decades style” vibe from a decade that hasn’t happened yet. Part of it is the Pokémon design influence, but I love how it’s somewhat reminiscent of current fashion yet futuristic in a way that makes you think, yeah, if our world turned into a crazy sci fi future like AI I could see this being the new mode.

Also because it’s cool and trendy to wear huge sweaters and never brush your hair. They’re just like me fr

I saw Uchikoshi’s tweets about the weird, unexplained boss-called-SAT part at Brahman, and he said he’ll explain it if he can have a “third eye”… it seems to me like they’re planning the plot of a third game, but its development won’t be given the OK unless aini does well. I’m mad at myself for not thinking of the “third eye” thing in my AI3 predictions post lol

I hope we see Marco’s humanoid form and/or hear him talk in DLC content. We know his blob form has a finished 3D model that wasn’t used in the game.

I’m curious about a few things (people who have Twitter please send my questions to Uchikoshi. They are of utmost importance)

How do Ryuki and Tama… do what they do? Is it possible in the Virtual Reality mode?

More importantly, where does Tama park? How does she find parking for a stretch limo in the city?

Does Shoma only own one shirt? When we look at Date and Mizuki’s closet, we can see that they have several exact repeats of their usual outfit, but when we look in Shoma’s closet, all we see are some sheets, Roboji, and the large pile of thermite bombs. Has he been wearing the same thing for six years?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 4 -

Jiang Yanli wasn’t sure her parents had ever agreed on anything, ever, in her life, but they were in complete accord now that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were missing.

Admittedly, that was the only thing they agreed on – that they were missing, not dead, not dead – but it was a good start.

It had all started when that strange woman with the very ordinary face had arrived, she thought. It’d been late when she first arrived, after Jiang Yanli’s parents had stopped receiving audiences; they’d asked her to wait until morning and then got busy and didn’t receive her until nearly midday, even though the woman had been pacing around anxiously in the waiting hall. And then there was a whole lot of arguing before finally they sent out some disciples to go check –

The disciples returned, pale-faced, and reported on what they’d found: a pool with signs of swimming, a spilled but empty lunchbox, and the bodies of seven men, covered in cloaks to suggest an identity as rogue cultivators but wearing Wen sect insignia underneath.

No sign of Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng.

Everything had very quickly gone to shouting after that.

Jiang Yanli was worried, too, of course, but she was only thirteen and a poor cultivator besides, average in every respect – looks, skills, power – and no one ever listened to her; she knew she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t give orders to go search with a solemn expression that she’d never before seen on her father’s face, eyes filled with panic and shoulders bowed with premature grief, the worst result already expected even as he denied the possibility of it; she couldn’t stalk around with so much rage that it felt like the onset of a thunderstorm like her mother, making sure that everyone was doing everything they could. She could only wait patiently by the gate to see if anyone came back.

Maybe it was her patience paying off, or maybe it was just luck, but she was the first one to see the cultivator arrive, late into the night. It wasn’t very ceremonious – he didn’t announce himself or anything, just swooped down with his saber until it was close to the ground, released the bundles he was holding in his arms, took a step forward and then collapsed onto his knees, face pale.

“Da-ge!” four voices shouted, distressed, and two of them were extremely familiar.

Jiang Yanli jumped to her feet and rushed forward, still disbelieving but overwhelmingly joyous. “A-Cheng! A-Xian!”

“Jiejie!” “Shijie!” they shouted, and she was so happy to see them, so happy, but they didn’t seem anywhere near as worried as she’d been; instead, they started talking at the same time. “You have to get someone, he’s used up too much spiritual energy –” “I can’t believe he carried us that far, and back, and after such a long trip, too –” “And a fight! Maybe he got injured?” “Impossible! But we should get a doctor just in case –” “Yes, and soup – shijie, can you make some –”

“Enough,” the cultivator rasped, lifting his hands to his face and rubbing it. He looked exhausted. “Thank you for your concern, all of you. I will see Sect Leader Jiang first.”

“It won’t make for much of a talk if you fall over!” one of the children she didn’t recognize said – the younger one, about her brothers’ ages, face full of baby fat. “Meng-gege, you’re older, tell him –”

The remaining child was about her age, if she had to guess, although he was short and looked gentle.

“Nie-gongzi is right,” he murmured – his accent sounded more Yunmeng than Qinghe, even if the oversized outer layer he was wearing looked more like Qinghe Nie than anything else. It probably belonged to the cultivator that had brought him, judging from the size. “You will not be able to make your case if you are unconscious.”

“I’m fine,” the cultivator insisted, and staggered up to his feet. “There’s no time, there’s still Lanling –”

There was no way this cultivator was flying all the way to Lanling.

“My parents will see you,” she interrupted. “They’ll be very happy to see A-Cheng and A-Xian are all right.”

They were, too, and Jiang Yanli assumed that only pride kept them from running over to grab them into an embrace – Jiang Cheng did run to their mother, and Wei Wuxian followed close behind to go beam at her father – but they were very puzzled to see the cultivator.

“Sect Leader Nie?” Jiang Yanli’s father said, and Jiang Yanli blinked: was that who her brothers’ savior was? “What are you doing here?”

“I received information,” he said. “Regarding the Wen sect –”

“We heard something similar,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said shortly, and glared at her husband.

“Unfortunately, we initially disregarded the warning of our spy,” he admitted. “And then we found the Wen sect cultivators’ bodies…your doing, I take it?”

Sect Leader Nie looked embarrassed for a moment, but then squared his shoulders. “Yes,” he said. “I was flying in to speak with you when I saw the attack taking place, and intervened.”

“They were coming at us with their swords!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “There was one right in front of my face, and then da-ge dropped down from the sky with his saber and – bam! Woosh! Urk!”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Yanli’s mother snapped, though not as harshly as usual. It was almost long-suffering rather than cross. “Have some respect for Sect Leader Nie!”

“It’s fine,” Sect Leader Nie said. “I don’t mind. Are you prepared for invasion?”

“Invasion?” Jiang Yanli’s father said, frowning. “You think –”

“Wen Ruohan had given orders that the sect heirs of all the Great Sects be kidnapped or killed, not to mention your ward here and a few sundry others,” Sect Leader Nie said. “What is that if not a declaration of outright war? Surely he’d know that such a move, if successful, would lead to us all declaring war on him – he must have a next move planned out already.”

Jiang Yanli’s parents exchanged looks.

Sect Leader Nie pretended (badly) not to see it. “I’ve activated defenses in the Unclean Realm,” he said stiffly. “As you know, I’ve always thought…well. At any rate, we’ve made plenty of preparations, and they’re being put into action now. If it would be convenient, I was thinking of sheltering some of the targets there – I’ve already invited the Lan boys – and it would be no difficulty to have yours as well.”

He’d already assumed that they wouldn’t be prepared, Jiang Yanli thought, and saw her parents hear that unspoken message as well. He’d known they wouldn’t take the threat seriously and acted accordingly, and it was only due to his decisiveness that her brothers were still alive.

Her parents looked at each other again, gazes full of meaning.

“Very well,” Jiang Yanli’s father said after a long moment, voice heavy. “I will have to prevail upon your kindness, Sect Leader Nie.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sect Leader Nie said, and then frowned. “My concern is in regard to Lanling Jin...they have closer ties to Qishan Wen than either of us, and may discount the information, especially if it comes from me –”

“I’ll go,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said at once. “Madame Jin is my childhood friend. She will listen to me, provided it’s not already too late.”

Sect Leader Nie’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded. “He may as well come to the Unclean Realm as well,” he said. “Lanling City is large and Jinlin Tower spacious and luxurious, but there are many holes through which a snake might burrow.”

“I’ll bring him,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said. “Yanli can come with me.”

Jiang Yanli looked up, surprised. “Me?”

“You’re an heir, too,” her mother said. “You might not have been on the list, but you’re still at risk, especially if there’s going to be a war – greater risk, even. Anyway, Madame Jin will be more inclined to send her son to a safe place if she thought it was a way to build ties.”

The Jin sect heir was Jiang Yanli’s future fiancé. She supposed it was a good idea to meet him – and at least this way, she’d be going to the Unclean Realm with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, rather than staying behind.

“You should get something warm to wear,” Wei Wuxian advised her. “It’s cold when you fly!”

Jiang Yanli had developed her golden core just this year, right on schedule, so she doubted it, but she appreciated his consideration.

“Really cold,” the child in Nie sect colors said – the smaller one, since the older child, the Yunmeng one, was doing his best impression of a transparent plane of glass. “And we’ve been flying forever – we flew all night to get here from home, you know, and that was before da-ge fought seven Wen sect cultivators. And then we had to fly even more! Someone said something about soup. I want soup!”

“You should rest,” Jiang Yanli’s father said to Sect Leader Nie, abruptly sounding concerned. “Do you or any of yours require a doctor..?”

“Something to eat and some rest will be sufficient,” Sect Leader Nie said, which was probably a lie. “I’ll want to head out first thing in the morning, traveling by flight – I know it’s uncomfortable for the young ones, but I want to be back at my sect as soon as possible. You can send any additional luggage after us by horse.”

There was more talking then - mostly about how crazy Sect Leader Nie was to think he could make such a long flight with so many children, and, when he insisted, making him promise he’d take many breaks along the way - but luckily not much, and then there was saluting and Jiang Yanli was being swept away by her mother to go to Lanling City.

She knew it was wrong to be excited by the prospect of war, but she couldn’t help it. What an adventure!

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 12

masterlist

Y/N froze, staring at Namjoon like a cornered animal while Namjoon had her pinned down like that sharp, dark gaze that reminded her so much of a predator. 

“What others, Y/N?” he growled, getting impatient with her silence. 

“Namjoon…” 

“What others.” he demanded, slamming a hand down on the table startling both Y/N and Moni, and yet she said nothing simply staring at him with wide, apprehensive eyes while her fingers clutched the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white. Namjoon took a deep breath, leaning back in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down even though his words still came out gruff and annoyed. “What others, Y/N?” 

“Don’t yell at me!” she snapped, standing up from her chair, chest heaving as she stared him down. 

“What others?” he growled, returning her harsh stare. 

“You don’t get to yell at me, not now.” 

He sighed, taking another deep breath. Despite the tension and high emotions, he knew she was right. He had no right to yell at her about things that happened before they met, and he knew that she had been through hell before him. Yelling at her and demanding answers wasn’t going to do either of them any good. It never did. 

“I shouldn’t have shouted.” his voice was softer now, an attempt on his part to be more soothing, especially as she looked like a frightened rabbit. “I need to know what others, jagi.”  he took one of her shaking hands gently in his, treating her like the fragile doll she seemed like in that moment. 

“Were there other pregnancies? Before?” she nodded slowly, eyeing him warily as he carefully steered her back into her chair. “When you were with Marcus, you were pregnant?” she nodded again. “Can you tell me about them, jagi?” 

“There were two.” she admitted staring down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers. “The first didn’t get very far. I was only a few weeks along when I lost it.” 

“And the other?” Namjoon asked, almost scared of the answer he was going to receive.  

“I was five months along.” one of her arms came up to curl protectively around her belly. 

Namjoon could see the way her hands were shaking, the distant almost haunted look in her eye, and it pained him. “What happened, jagi?” 

“I was twenty one weeks. It was a boy” she smiled sadly “but there was so much blood, and I couldn’t get to the  hospital. Marcus wouldn’t…. He left. I shouldn’t have made him angry. I knew- I knew better.” she blinked back tears, and Namjoon had to tamp down his growing rage, not towards her but towards the man who had put her through this. “By the time I got to the hospital it was too late to do anything. There wasn’t much they could have done anyway.”  she shuddered at the memory. “The baby had been in distress for too long, and he came breech.  There was nothing they could do. He was… he was too little, and it was too early. He couldn’t...” 

Namjoon stopped her, pulling her into her arms as she trembled, gently stroking her hair as she began to cry. There was nothing he could say to make this better, nothing he could do no matter how much he wanted to. 

“You gave birth?” he asked, the horrible realization, the full extent of what she must have gone through sweeping over him. She hadn’t just been pregnant. She’d given birth to a child, traumatically, and the child hadn’t survived. From the sound of it, there was nothing she could have done, nor was the loss naturally occurring. Part of him regretted asking her, for making her relive this memory, but he needed to know, and knowing what she had been through, he only loved her more. She was so unbelievably strong.

She laughed tearily, a fond but terribly sad smile passing over her features. “He was alive for about twenty minutes. I held him until he passed.” 

“What was his name?” 

“Noah. His name was Noah. I buried him at the little cemetery just past the bridge.” 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, gathering her into his arms again. “I’m so sorry, jagi.” 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t breath after it happened. I couldn’t look at him. That’s when I met Jackson.” she admitted a more rueful smile taking over her features. “He gave me an out, and I made them pay.” 

So many things made sense now. A missing piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, and suddenly it all made sense. He’d known she was in a bad situation with Marcus. He knew she had only entered the relationship to try to provide for herself and her sister, but it never made sense why she toppled a whole criminal organization to escape. Something about it just never seemed to fit with what he knew of her, but losing a child was just the sort of catalyst that would send her down that path. 

His poor sweet Y/N had been through more than he could have ever imagined, more than even he had been through, but that was part of the reason he loved her, part of the reason she was perfect for him. She had seen the same darkness he had been raised in, and yet she was nothing like the women he had known in his youth, nothing like his mother had been. 

Namjoon’s memory of his mother was vague. He was only a child the last time he’d seen her, but he could remember the drugs, the bottles of alcohol. He remembered the dingy half basement they lived in, how it always smelled faintly of mold. He remembered the men- lovers, loan sharks, dealers, and none of them had anything against knocking around a scrawny kid from the bad side of town. His mother had allowed it all. Nothing mattered to her except getting her next fix. Even as a child, Namjoon had known he was meant for more. He was so much smarter than the other children, so much better, and he wanted better for himself. It seemed impossible though. What could a child do to get himself out of the gutter? And then Si-Hyuk came. 

Namjoon had been only eight at the time, but he could remember that day so clearly. Si-Hyuk had come to their home looking for him and his mother. He hadn’t known that he had an uncle before that day. It had always just been him and his mother, but suddenly there was this man claiming to be his mother’s half brother. His mother was out most likely meeting her dealer or one of the loan sharks she owed money too, so it had just been Namjoon and Si-Hyuk in the apartment. 

Si-Hyuk was a wealthy man, a powerful man, but he lacked one thing, an heir. He needed a son to carry on the business, but his wife had failed to provide one before her untimely death. He could have simply adopted a child, but he wanted an heir of his own blood, someone with the blood of his father and his grandfather. It was a family business, and he wanted it to stay in the family, but Si-Hyuk had no siblings, no legitimate ones anyway, but there was one woman. 

His father had had a daughter with one of his mistresses. Both the woman and the child had left soon after. His father had had no use for an illegitimate daughter, but Si-Hyuk had use for her now. It was a long shot, but if there was any chance that his sister had had a son, he had to take it. So he’d gone looking for her, and lo and behold, there was indeed a son. They found the perfect solution for both of their problems within each other. Si-Hyuk wanted a son, and Namjoon wanted out of the gutter, to be away from the mess of a woman he called a mother. There was only one problem, the woman herself. She might not have cared about Namjoonj, but she was a greedy woman by nature, and if she had thought there was anything to be gained from her son, she would cling to him like a leech. Everything would have been fine if Namjoon and his uncle had been able to leave before she returned. She never would have known what had happened to her son nor would she have cared, but she had come stumbling home just as Si-Hyuk and Namjoon were preparing to leave.

Distaste was too mild of a word to describe how both Si-Hyuk and Namjoon had felt about the woman before them. She might have been a beauty once, but a life of bad habits had degraded that beauty until she was nothing but a shell of the woman she had been, rotted from the inside out. She wasn’t willing to let go of her son without ensuring a life of comfort and debauchery for herself, and Bang Si-Hyuk was not a man to be blackmailed, so he’d given young Namjoon a choice: him or his mother. Only one could live, and Namjoon was nothing if not a survivor.

 “Nothing will ever… I  promise nothing will ever happen to our baby. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” He urged, holding her tight to his chest. 

She was a survivor too, but she didn’t have to be anymore. He was there to take care of her now. If only he’d found her sooner, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that she was here now. She was here in his arms, pregnant with his child, and nothing would happen to either of them. 

“You can’t promise that.” she shook her head, pushing on his chest so she could stare up at him with those fathomless eyes of hers. “You don’t know.” 

But he did know. This was his kingdom, and he made the decisions here.

“I promise you, jagiya, you will never lose another child. I won’t let that happen, not again.” she stared at him, brows furrowed in uncertainty. It was sweet in its own way. Logically, she knew there was no way for him to keep that promise. There was no real surety, but it was nice nonetheless. “As long as I’m beside you, nothing will happen.” he promised again, and she melted into his arms, too tired to fight both emotionally and physically, something Namjoon was quick to notice. 

“Why don’t we go inside, jagi?” he murmured, still holding her close. “You’re tired, and you shouldn’t overdo it.” 

“Okay.” 

Namjoon helped her up from her chair and led her back into the house with Moni trailing at their heels. Miss In stood guard just past the door waiting for the couple to come back inside. 

“We’ll take breakfast in the master bedroom. Y/N is tired and needs to rest. Another day of bed rest wouldn’t hurt.” she had a feeling that the last comment was directed more at her than it was his faithful housekeeper.  

“Of course, sajangnim.” 

Namjoon treated her like glass as he led her back to their room. One arm was wrapped around her waist to steady her while the other held her hand as though she was going to stumble and fall at any moment. She wasn’t, but she was grateful for the extra support. She didn’t talk about her other babies often, and each time it filled her with the same soul numbing sadness. 

Soon enough breakfast was over, and Y/N had been put back to bed with Namjoon beside her, keeping her tucked protectively into his side as he put on a movie for them to watch. Apparently, he had no plans to leave her today. 

As for Namjoon, he had always known that she was meant for him, ever since that first night. Everytime she challenged him, everytime he learned something new about her and her past, it only strengthened that conviction. She was perfect for him in every way. She was smart, beautiful, unbelievably strong, and she was his. They were both survivors, and what’s more, she was everything his mother wasn’t. Y/N would do anything to protect her family. She would fight for them till her last breath, sacrifice anything including herself. His mother had thrown away everything on drugs and liquor in a vain attempt to make her life better. He was happy the day she died. He’d been happy to be the one to shoot her.  The world was better off without her, but the same couldn’t be said for Y/N. 

She was light. She was music. She was everything, and he would tear the world to pieces for her. Anyone who hurt her, anyone who tried to take her from him would pay. Nothing was going to keep Namjoon from having his perfect family. 

part 13

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 10

Chosen One. 

Marianne Al Ghul. 

Mari. 

Pixie.

The Lily of the Desert. 

Marinette Dupain. 

Ladybug. 

The Great Guardian.

And now she would eventually become Marianne Wayne. 

She had had multiple names and lived for what felt like a hundred lives, all very different, but all of them with one thing in common. Damian. 

From the moment he was born until her first death, she lived for him. Always there to aid and protect him at all costs. At all costs. She lived for him. The only time she had something for herself, it was taken from her. So she wasn't good with owning things. Her whole life nothing was truly hers. Damian was the League’s. The Miraculous were the Order’s. She was divided between two organizations. Never truly belonging to one or the other. She ached to belong, so it was very important that she proved herself to her father. She knew she was never enough for her mother, she was indeed the second option. Useful enough to not be discarded, but not the heir she most desired.

So now. Standing in front of her Father, having imagined this moment her whole life, she had to admit, she was scared. Would he reject her too? Would she be enough?

“Father… This is Marianne, your daughter.” Damian presents her. She doesn't know how to act so she stays in place, awaiting instructions or directions, but still getting the time to analyze the man in front of her.

He was taller than she imagined, but intimidating with his Batman attire just as she had pictured. He looked at her in a cautious way, as if at any moment she would combust into flames. She kept her eye on him, looking for some sort of sign on how to act. It took some time but eventually, his expression turned to a mesmerized one. 

“You look like my mother…” He whispered, reaching to her with his right hand but never touching her. His face in awe. “How… I-”

He turned his head to Damian as if he could explain more. In his face a lost and anxious expression. She could see that her little brother wanted to comfort their father, but didn't know how. So he stayed at her side, hoping that his presence was enough. Clearly, it wasn’t.

“I need to think'' And with that he turns and walks out of the cave, never even sparing a glance back. The only thing that can be heard are his footsteps, and when those are gone, an awkward silence installs.

Only then does Marianne let go of the air she didn’t even know she was holding. With not even a nod of his head father had dismissed her. He was similar to Mother after all. Only ever interaction with her if needed, just to make sure she was still alive. She could deal with that, she knew what to expect. That actually calms her more than it should. The uncertainty was still there, but at least she knew that deep down he could care for her in the future as her mother did. 

“Daeh Washanuh” She tells her brother when she sees his indignant face. Her father needed time, she understood that, so for now she would let him be. 

She still felt a bit weak, having spent all her energy between fighting her brother and mending her injured body. Damian must have seen said exhaustion because he instantly went to her side, to support her. With her body pressed against his side, and a strong arm crossing her waist holding her she admired how much he had grown. He was taller than her now. Stronger too. Gone was the 10 year old that followed her around. In his place was a slight better version of that person. She gives him a reassuring smile, trying to transmit her gratitude and appreciation without words, the same way she would do before they were separated. She could only hope they still understood each other after years of no contact.

Damian chooses that instant to start introducing the others. The redhead in the wheelchair looks at her with interest, as if trying to solve a puzzle. She doesn't seem to be judging her like the guy in the red leather jacket with a shocked expression is, so she counted that as a win. The dark haired teen that she knocked out a few days ago looks like he’s seen better days, and by the dark spots under his eyes and the large cup of what she assumed to be coffee in his hand, he was an insomniac, like her. The two still wearing their full costumes start to remove their masks, the one in blue has a calm expression, but the other is still very much shocked.

“Habibti... This is Richard Grayson, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Jason-”

“Todd.” She smiles. “Long time no see.” 

How could she ever forget those blue eyes that hunted her dreams. He was a big part of her past, and she would always be able to spot him in a crowd. 

She can almost remember the first time she met him. At only 13 she was tasked with training this overemotional 16-year-old. Let’s just say their relationship wasn’t good at the beginning. He carried too much anger inside of him to allow him to listen to what she was trying to teach him. He was hot-headed and stubborn, and most of the time she just wanted to throw her dagger at him to see him bleed. But after some time they got close. Closer than they should. 

At that time Grandfather had intensified Damian’s training so she wasn’t able to see him much, instead, she found herself around Jason a lot. They confided in each other. She gave pieces of herself to him that she never gave anyone else, only for him to be ripped from her life as punishment. 

Last she heard her mother had dealt with him. She assumed she had killed him. But seeing him in front of her, healthy and very much alive was a relief. She had mourned him for a long time, but the joy she feels in knowing he was alive was immense.

“Pixie!” Jason speaks for the first time, by now he already got up from his seat, and is now standing in front of her. Different from her Father's reaction, he seems to need to touch her, to guarantee that she is real and truly there. Confused about how she knew his older adopted sibling, Damian backs away from his sister, too stunned to properly comprehend what was happening. She now was using Jason as support, feeling the heat of his body next to her’s, just proving that he was really there.

Pixie was a nickname he gave her when they first met after he discovered she could do magic. At the time she did not understand the reference, not having grown up with fairytales, but after he patiently explained to her about fairies she could see where he was coming from. Small and Magic. That was enough to describe her. And secretly she was pleased to have a nickname especially made for her. “I told you we would see each other again…” He says with a smug smirk on his face. Caressing her cheek with his hand. Oh, how she missed that look on his face. 

“Am I the only one that’s freaking out with this scene in front of us?” The spell is broken by the voice of the blue hero. Richard. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. She knew a bit about him, when she was younger a part of her training was inspired by his stunts on the field. “How the hell do you know her, Jaybird? Bruce’s secret love child?” 

He still holds her, more for support than anything else. It’s been a long time since they’ve been together, but their friendship hopefully still remains. She takes him not letting her go, as a sign that she wasn’t the only one affected by this unexpected reunion. When she first arrived at Gotham she knew she would inevitably meet her extended family when she finally sought her brother. And yes, it came to no surprise that Jason Todd was once her father’s ward. But remember that she did believe him to be dead. And if that was truly the case she would carry her secrets to her grave. But apparently, it was time to come clean to her brother. Her relation with Jason was the one thing she ever kept from Damian. And she could see from the look on his face that he was very confused.

She detaches herself from Jason and tries to reach her little brother, but the day's activity finally takes a toll on her body and she trips and almost collapses on the floor if not for the two that come to her rescue. Jason being the one closer to her catches most of her weight, but Damian has both her hands into his own.

“I'm fine…” She tries, but by the look on both their faces, they don’t believe her one bit.

“Dick, why don't we leave the rest of the interrogation for tomorrow? When Bruce can participate.” Barbara speaks for the first time. She pushes herself away from the table and starts making her way out of the cave in her wheelchair. It seems that her words have power, because with only a grunt and a side glance and he leaves as well. Sometime between her father leaving and Jason making himself known Timothy fell asleep, face down on the table in what could only be described as an uncomfortable position.

If she wasn’t so exhausted she would have questioned how easily Damian’s family accepted to wait until tomorrow for answers. If it was her she would want them as soon as possible. No matter what.

“Come, I’ll show you to my room” Damian removes her from Jason’s arms and starts directing her through the same path all the others took out of the cave. Tomorrow she would come back and admire all the technology and weapons the Bat Cave provided, but for now, she was content in being almost carried to a comfy bed. After almost a month of chasing Gabriel Agreste around the globe and mostly sleeping when she could, wherever she could,  just the thought of sleeping in an actual mattress brought her immense joy. “I promise to not ask questions today, but I need an explanation for the display of affection you gave Todd downstairs.” His tone is stern and she knows he meant that. 

"Deal." He nods, accepting my answer.

We walk through a long corridor for quite some time, but eventually, we stop in front of a door. Damian opens it and carries me to the bed. He sits me in his bed and goes to his wardrobe. While he does that she admires the size of his room, which is big, just as it was in the League, but here she can see bits of his personality. Photos on the wall, drawings on the tables. She is happy that he gets to explore his part of himself. When he comes backs he hands a change of clothes to her, and without saying anything he makes his way to what Marianne assumes is an adjacent bathroom. Leaving her room to change alone. He gave her a black long-sleeved shirt and black pajama bottoms that were definitely too small to git him now, and she can only question as to why he has it still.

She removes her attire and changes into the offered clothes, but not before inspecting the place where there was supposed to be a wound. She was healed, as expected, but her dried blood still clings to her abdomen. By now Damian finally comes back, wearing an outfit similar to hers and carrying a damp towel.

“I thought you would want to clean yourself of the blood.” He hands her the towel. She in return gives him a sincere smile, accepting the offered object and immediately removing all traces of blood from her body. 

While she did that, he sat on the other side of the bed, removing some pillows and getting under the covers. Marianne leaves the towel on the floor beside the bed and carefully puts one knife on the bedside table and her dagger under her pillow. Old habits die hard after all.

Damian observes her with a nostalgic look on his face but otherwise remains silent. He turns the light off by the switch near his bed and the bedroom immediately gets dark, the only source of light coming through the closed windows. As she gets under the covers she feels his body getting closer to hers. And she can’t help but smile again, remembering how many times they did this exact same thing during their childhood without their mother knowing. Or at least they thought she didn't know, not knowing she merely allowed them this simple thing.

“Aishtaqt lak ya 'akhi” She repeats the same words she said to him when they were on the rooftop earlier that night.

Her only answer is his hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze.

Final chapter of part one! Do you like the stoy so far? After a lot of messages from you guys I decided to continue with a part 2 of this story. Still haven’t decided how long it would be, probably about 10 more chapters but who nows. Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter, its was finals week at my university and you know how it is. 

Let’s hope I get more time to write! Thank you all fot the support do far! You are all amazing!

It curently 3 am so sorry if there’s any mistakes!

Next

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[elvish-sky]

Aerinithil Character Sheet

i’m so delighted to introduce you to my new OC, Aeri! I’m so nervous about this, but I really adore her and I’m so proud of the work I’ve put into her so I hope you all love her!

Aeri, by the incredibly kind person and wonderful artist @lady-latte !!!

Name: Aerinithil, meaning ‘sea of moonlight’ is the name given to her by her elven mother.

Nickname: Aeri. It’s what her father called her when she was little, and it’s stuck. (pronounced air-rhee)

Heritage: Half-elf, half-human. Her parents were an elf from Lothlorien and a man from Rohan that got lost and fell in love with her mother. They disappeared from everyone they knew and lived together in the foothills of the mountains west of Fangorn, raising Aeri there. The only being that ever knew there had been another union between elf and man was Gandalf. They were killed by orcs when she was in her 40s, her father living a very long life for a human. However, she was not offered the choice between a human lifespan, and an elven one, instead only given an extended lifespan. However, she doesn't know how long that lifespan is until she meets Gandalf for the first time.

Age: She was born on February 14, TA 2414, and is almost six hundred years old at the Council of Elrond.

Appearance: Aeri is 6’3, a normal height for an elf, but tall for a human. However, she is shorter than Aragorn, who stands at 6’6. She’s very muscular after so many centuries of physical activity, and lean, but not slender like the elves, a reminder of her human heritage. She does have the elven pointed ears, though.

Her hair is a mahogany color and wavy, reaching to the small of her back when she actually leaves it down. Which is rare- one of the things she hates the most is having hair in her face, so it is almost always in a long ponytail or various kinds of braids.

Aeri has piercing blue eyes, a much darker blue than usually seen, but with starbursts of aquamarine around the pupils. She has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and a few around her face. She also has a triangle of freckles on her right shoulder, something that her father had too, which has always puzzled her but she sees it as a connection to him. Her nose is slightly upturned, and her lips are somewhere in between rounded and heart-shaped, but she can never decide which.

She has a lot of scars all over, a result of centuries of fighting and a whole lot of clumsiness. She has one on the bottom of her chin from tripping as a child, that Aragorn tried for years to get the story about out of her and once he succeeded has not let her forget it. She received a scar at Helm’s Deep that stretches from her hip, across her thigh and almost to her knee. She also has a small one on her cheek from where an arrow grazed her during the battle at the Black Gate.

Personal Information: Aeri is usually very hostile with new people, but secretly craves connection and is rather touch-starved. She’s become almost numb by the time she joins the Fellowship and only does that because she received a message from Gandalf, who, when she met him centuries before, had promised to never ask her for anything unless the situation was truly dire.

She does have a sense of humor and enjoys the antics of the hobbits. Her common sense is strong, and her intuition is finely honed. She’s also inquisitive, sensitive, and has a large amount of hope, qualities that come to light as she starts to unconsciously think of and treat the Fellowship as a family.

Aeri is scared of bees, but she doesn’t know why (and thinks bumblebees are adorable, she’s just scared of any other kind). She has nightmares about her parents’ deaths that constantly trouble her, and hundreds of years later often wonders that if she’d been there, would she have been able to save them? She also suffers from panic attacks and is very nervous in large crowds, but she has learned how to cope over the years, and Aragorn teaches her tricks he uses as well.

In the years between her parents’ deaths and joining the Fellowship, she traveled Arda, visiting everywhere from the Shire to Erebor. She always returned home to the cabin in the foothills of the Misty Mountains near Fangorn, alone, with the books and goods she brought back to keep her company. And her horses and dogs over the years.

She’s fantastic with any weapon you put in her hands, but her favorites are her long twin daggers (that she bonds with Legolas over) and her long cutlass that befuddles Aragorn and Boromir.

Aeri, from this picrew!

Friends: Once the Fellowship gets her to trust them, on the way to Caradhras, she opens up a little more. She becomes fast friends with Merry and Pippin but enjoys Sam’s quieter company and Frodo’s thoughtfulness as well. She also knows a lot about compulsion and temptation and helps Frodo with the ring. Boromir quickly becomes her brother-in-arms, and she manages to take down the Uruk-hai that tried to kill him, saving his life. Legolas has a harder time trusting Aeri, especially because he can see the elvishness in her but knows she’s not fully elven. However, when she rescues him from an orc patrol one night they become friends, and he teaches her more about her heritage. She and Gimli don’t interact much until Moria, but he sees the respect she’s showing and they begin to like each other.

During the several months between her arrival in Rivendell/The Council of Elrond and the Fellowship’s departure, she becomes friends with Arwen, the first being she lets her guard down around in many years. However, she always feels a sense of jealousy around the elf, which she doesn’t realize is because of her feelings for Aragorn for a long time.

She also becomes really close with both Glorfindel and Erestor during her time in Rivendell, enjoying the warrior’s battle-wisdom and humor and the councilor’s quiet thoughtfulness and sass.

Love Interest: Aeri and Aragorn do confess their feelings for each other some time during the quest, much to Merry and Pippin’s delight when they hear of it. However, it takes a while, and there is lots of pining along the way as both think the other wants nothing more than to be friends. Aeri is intimidated by the fact that Aragorn is the Heir of Isildur, and Aragorn is intimidated by the fact that Aeri is a half-elf that’s been alive for eight hundred-ish years. Some hilarity ensues from this as well, much to Boromir and Legolas’s enjoyment.

Aeri and Aragorn with this picrew!

i’m tagging everyone on my everything tag, as well as people i think might be interested and just some that is really like to see this! i’m sorry if you don’t want to be tagged and i hope you’re not mad, i’m just very excited about this!!@entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny @laurfilijames @grunid @claraofthepen @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth @starryeyedrogue @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @ladylouoflothlorien @lady-latte @luna-xial @elles-writing @band--psycho @annkdarar

this character sheet was inspired by @guardianofrivendell ‘s for her amazing OC Tullaina, which you should check out here!

and a huge thank you to @laurfilijames who gave me the push i needed to do this. thank you so incredibly much, i hope you like her!

[sesamestreep]

if dreams were thunder, and lightning was desire

(read on AO3)

(read the whole series here)

SUMMARY: It's one thing to agree to get married for symbolic reasons in the name of political unity. It's another thing entirely to actually be married. [AKA - further adventures in that arranged marriage medieval fantasy AU of Rogue One]

A/N: Here I am, arriving three years late with proverbial Starbucks, to post my now once-yearly attempt at fic! I'm actually posting this as a birthday gift to my forever girl @firstelevens​ who is also responsible for helping me flesh out this idea in the first place.... [checks notes] uh, four years ago. Happy happy birthday and thank you for being the most supportive and wonderful friend in the multiverse, even though I’ve recently become terrible at replying to texts. Further notes are there if you want them if you follow the AO3 link above!

Cassian Andor wakes up to an empty bed, which is not, in and of itself, a startling thing. In fact, there was a time, only a few months ago, when it would have been a much greater surprise to find the other side of his bed occupied. Even now that he is married, waking to find his wife already up and gone is not an uncommon occurrence. The first few times he woke to find her gone, he had been confused, certainly, but he has adjusted to her habits and the sight of her side of the bed empty no longer inspires panic or concern as it had in the beginning.

However, this morning is different. Cassian’s wife is an early riser almost without exception, but she is not normally so far ahead of him that her side of the bed is as cold as it is now when Cassian runs his palm over the linens. Even more startling is the darkness that still lingers outside the window. It’s not yet dawn, then, and she is already awake and about the castle. That is highly unusual.

Perhaps, if Cassian had slept well, he might let these confusing details go. But he never sleeps well the night before he travels and tomorrow—or today, actually, given the hour—he leaves on a scouting mission to the southern provinces. He has slept fitfully most of the night and apparently only got enough actual sleep to let his wife slip out of their chambers unnoticed. He sighs and throws off the bedding, knowing he won’t get any more rest until he knows where Jyn has gone.

In little more than three months of marriage, Cassian cannot say he’s gotten to know his wife well. She is secretive and aloof, as a rule, and he has done all he can to give her the space she seems to yearn for, because he knows that, while she has accepted him as a husband, she did not choose him. Their union is a symbolic one, designed to mollify two disparate factions of the Rebellion as they struggle to rule together. He and Jyn are not royalty or even particularly important people, aside from that. No one is waiting on them for heirs or anything of that sort, and they can spend the rest of their lives as indifferent to each other as they please. 

 Still, Cassian cannot help that he has learned things about his wife, in spite of the careful distance that exists between them. He is a spy, after all. His job is to discover new information, even—or perhaps, especially—when the other party does not wish to give it to him. Jyn is adept at hiding things from others, but even she is not a complete mystery to him. No one is, for one thing, but she has the distinct disadvantage of sharing a bed with him.

 What he knows does not amount to much, truly. Except that he had heard his wife complain more than once, in an undertone to her brother, of how restless and bored she feels cooped up in the stone walls of the castle. That, and the early hour where almost everyone else will still be in bed, suggests to Cassian that he would do well to get dressed and try to find his wife outside.

 His instincts are correct in this case, as he finds her on the southern lawn outside the castle, standing alone and, he imagines, waiting for the sunrise that is beginning to tinge the sky with an orange glow just above the horizon. He takes the opportunity, before she hears him approach, to pause and take in the image of her, alone in the pretty half-light of the early morning.

 She wears no overcoat, which irks him for reasons he does not fully understand. By midday, there is a good chance it will be a balmy spring day, but now, it is still chilly and damp without the sun to warm them. Jyn could catch a cold in this weather and Cassian has never known someone who can be so cautious and so careless at the same time.

 On the other hand, she did go through the trouble of getting fully dressed before heading out, so perhaps Cassian should be thankful. He apparently also got more sleep than he realized, because he hadn’t heard any sound at all while she got her clothes on in the dark of their bedchamber. He half-expected her to still be in her dressing gown, given her lack of concern with convention.

 He wishes he could say she looked tranquil as she surveys the forested land that borders the castle, but, for all he can only just make out her features in the minimal lighting, he can tell she is frowning. He thinks, absently, that she is beautiful nonetheless and then regrets it. He should not be distracted by her looks when he knows she is unhappy.

 The distant call of a bird draws her attention in his direction and he sees the way her eyes widen in alarm when they land upon him before she thinks to hide her reaction. His opportunity to observe her unnoticed is gone, and he has no choice but to cross the distance between them, though he does try to appear unhurried.

 “Good morning, Captain,” she greets him as he comes nearer and he almost stops short.

 It always trips him up when she refers to him by his rank. It’s fine when others do so—that is protocol—but hearing it from his wife always strikes him as odd. He has told her as much, but there are moments when she defers to it still. He believes, though he has no proof of this, that she does it on purpose, that she only uses it when she is in a certain mood. Cassian has yet to ascertain what that mood is—if she is being sarcastic, if she is angry, if it might be her way of showing affection, even—but he knows there is some motive behind it that he does not understand. If he knew, he might be able to respond in some clever way, but as it is, he is at a loss for words.

 “Good morning, my lady,” he says, and perhaps he is cleverer than he gives himself credit for, because Jyn’s frown deepens momentarily before she can stop herself. “You are up early today.”

 “As are you,” she says, her tone suggesting that she heard the question hidden in his statement and she won’t be responding to it.

 Cassian laughs, without meaning to. “I couldn’t find my wife this morning. It was an alarming way to wake up.”

 He expects a terse response from her, saying that she is always awake before him. Instead, Jyn’s eyebrows raise in surprise and her frown eases, just a bit. “You were worried?” She asks, disbelieving.

 “I—of course I was,” he replies. He is always worried, he doesn’t know how she hasn’t noticed yet.

 “About me?”

 “Yes,” he says, puzzled by her need for clarification. “We’re married. It is my duty to worry about you.”

 Jyn  tsks  at that, whether in understanding or disappointment, he’s not sure. “And you are always dutiful,” she says, her tone unreadable still.

 “I try to be,” Cassian says, feeling like he is stuck in a game of wits for which he is unprepared. He is capable and coherent around others, but his wife always has the upper hand on him. It never feels like he has the right answer for her. Even now, she nods before looking away, back at the horizon as it becomes rosier by the moment. 

 “Are you well?” He asks, when the silence starts to stretch out too long. 

 She blinks in confusion when she looks back at him, as if she had forgotten he was there. “I—yes, of course,” she says, and he realizes it was the question that confused her. “Do I not look well?”

 Another question to which there is no right answer, he thinks. “It’s very early to be out of bed,” he says, instead of answering her question.

 “I am always up early.”

 “Not this early.”

 “Have I done something wrong, Captain?”

 “Jyn, I’m not chastising you,” he says, laughing. He’s not amused, not precisely, but if he doesn’t laugh, he’ll probably shout from frustration. This feels safer. “I’m asking if something is troubling you. I want to know that you are alright.”

 His obvious frustration must outweigh her annoyance, because everything about her—her expression, her posture—immediately softens, the fight going out of her instantly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be defensive. I just couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you, not when you’re leaving this morning, but I see that I did anyway.”

 “You didn’t. I...never sleep well before a journey.”

 “Oh?”

 He hesitates to say more, lest he seem like he sought her out just to drop his problems at her feet, but she is watching him with interest and, if he’s not mistaken, concern, so perhaps she would not mind. “All of the details, the logistics of the trip, I go over them, in my head, all night long. I’m practically frantic by morning, most of the time.”

 “I—” Jyn cuts herself off, shaking her head, like she had something to say and thought the better of it. “I have a hard time imagining you in a frantic state,” she says, instead.

 “Well, then,” he says, feeling some strange twinge of pride, “I suppose I am doing my job well.”

 “As a spy, perhaps,” she replies, her tone unreadable.

 “What other job do I have?” He asks, ignoring the fact that he’s not, officially speaking, a spy anymore. His actual title has something to do with “intelligence,” a distinction he’s meant to care about a lot more than he actually does. He’s not spying in the same way that he was during the war, but he’s not delusional enough to tell himself that those aren’t the skills the Republic has kept him around for.

 Jyn gives him a long, searching look. “It hardly matters,” she says, finally, waving a hand and looking off at the horizon again. She’s quiet for a moment before she speaks again. “I’m a miserable excuse for a wife, though, not noticing that you couldn’t sleep.”

 “I wouldn’t say that.”

 “Of course not,” she says, smiling, though the light of it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You are far too polite.”

 “‘Polite’ is not the first word most people would use to describe me, my lady.”

 “‘Careful,’ then,” she says, pointedly.

 Cassian nods, feeling as if he has lost this round. “That is far more likely.” He pauses before he says anything more, weighing the risk of it, but ultimately decides it might be worth saying. “I did not want to trouble you. I didn’t realize you were awake.”

 “I often am, at odd hours,” she says, and there’s something light and teasing about it now. “And you could stand to trouble me more, Captain. I’ve never heard of such an undemanding husband before.”

 Unable to parse what she means when she suggests he “trouble” her when he cannot sleep—and unwilling to use his imagination, knowing where it will lead him—he decides to address a less mystifying part of her comment. “I’ve told you that you needn’t call me that,” he says.

 “‘Husband?’” She asks, innocently, though he sees a bit of performance in it.

 “No. ‘Captain.’”

 “Well, you still call me ‘my lady.’ Only one of those honorifics is still worth anything, and it surely isn’t mine.”

 “I only call you ‘my lady’ when…”

 “Yes?” Jyn’s features take on the expression of an animal that has backed its prey into a corner, leaving it no options of retreat. 

 Cassian thinks it unwise to point this out, though. He also thinks it unwise to finish what he was about to say, which is that he only calls her ‘my lady’ when he wants to call her ‘my dear’ or something equally sentimental that he’s sure she would not approve of. It feels disingenuous to him, as well. He simply finds his vocabulary for expressing the intimacy of living so closely with another person without encroaching upon the territory of affection rather wanting. He cares for her, of course—why else would he be out of bed and out of doors on a freezing morning if he didn’t?—but there is hardly a chance of love or even affection in a marriage as young and unfamiliar as theirs.

 “When I do not know what else to call you,” he says, instead of the truth. It’s barely even a lie, but it nags at him like one regardless. He has been trying to lie less around his wife, but it’s a difficult habit to break.

 “My name would work well enough,” Jyn replies, her tone caught somewhere between amused and suspicious.

 “So would mine.”

 She hesitates before responding, looking shy, although it is a rare thing from her. “I thought you might like it, being called by your rank.”

 “Not from you,” he says, immediately. “I am called that by enough people. When I’m home, when I’m with you, I am just your husband.”

 He doesn’t realize the way this sounds—sentimental, the very thing he was avoiding—until the words are out of his mouth and Jyn’s face goes blank with astonishment. She recovers quickly, though, looking down at her feet.

 “As you wish, husband,” she says, quietly.

 “Well, you know now why I could not sleep. What has kept you awake?”

 “Bad dreams,” she says, matter-of-factly. “As always.”

 “Always?” Cassian repeats, concerned. He didn’t know she had nightmares. She shifts in her sleep often, he has noticed, always twisting herself into shapes that cannot possibly be comfortable, but he’s never known her to cry or panic enough to wake herself, the way he associates with nightmares.

 “Most nights,” she confirms, looking away to avoid his gaze. 

 She crosses her arms over her chest, although he cannot tell if it’s a defensive gesture or simply because she is cold. He decides to proceed as though it is the latter and begins to slip his arms out of his coat’s sleeves. The rustling of the fabric draws her gaze back to him and her eyes widen with alarm when she realizes what he means to do.

 “Oh, no,” she says, waving a hand to ward him off. “Don’t bother. You will freeze without it.”

 “Is that so?” Cassian asks, ignoring her protests and pulling his jacket off completely.

 “I know how cold you get,” she says, archly. There are things she has learned from sharing a bed with him, too, it appears.

 He doesn’t take the bait to argue with her and instead steps forward until he’s only a single pace away from her and sweeps the jacket over her shoulders. She stands stiffly as he does so, as if she cannot figure out her part in this scene. Or perhaps she worries the slightest gesture will upset the moment they are sharing, though this idea might be romantic nonsense on Cassian’s part. 

 He draws the coat tighter around her body by the lapels and he fidgets with the collar so it will stand up and block the cold wind, since she has no scarf. He wants nothing more in the world than to take her hair that has gotten trapped in the collar and draw it out for her, if only for the excuse it would give him to run his hands through it without the risk of giving himself away. All the while, Jyn watches him with her chin tipped up, her eyes narrowed in obvious but neutral interest. Perhaps he has already given himself away.

 “Do not worry on my account,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. He has finished arranging the coat around her shoulders, but his hands still linger on the lapels, holding it together, not wanting to let go and give up his excuse to be close to her. “If I am any good at my job, I will convince you to come inside before I even feel the cold.”

 “Your job?” Jyn asks, warily. “As a spy?”

 “Yes, and as a husband.”

 “It is your duty as my husband to ensure I do not freeze to death?”

 “Amongst other things.” He means it plainly enough, but in this close proximity, he sees the way Jyn bites her lip and look away at the implication of his words and he feels himself flush with embarrassment. He tries to steer the conversation elsewhere, no matter how artlessly. “I have nightmares too.”

 Jyn’s head snaps up. “You do?”

 “Yes.”

 “About the war?”

 Cassian swallows and words feel more difficult than he anticipated, so he simply nods. It’s probably important that his wife knows these things about him, especially if he wants her to tell him things too. 

 She watches him carefully, as if she’s waiting for a trap but Cassian just gazes steadily back at her, to see if she’ll trust him. After a moment, she sighs and says, more to his chest than to his face, “most of mine are from when I was young.”

 “I have a few of those too.”

 Jyn nods, closing her eyes. Cassian transfers the lapels of the coat into one hand, so that his other one is free to rub her shoulder. He wants her to say more, but he doesn’t want to pressure her. Without warning, she steps further into his embrace, close enough that she’s able to perch her chin on his shoulder. Though her face is turned away from him, the sweetness of the gesture nearly overwhelms him. He places his hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, just so she doesn’t think to pull away.

 “I think the trouble is not having much to occupy my time here,” she says, after a moment, and Cassian could collapse with relief at hearing her speak. “I’m not accustomed to idleness. And when I try to sleep, my mind is still awake and it gives me these vivid dreams.”

 He can’t help himself any longer. He smooths a hand over the back of her head, brushing back some strands of hair that have come loose from where she’s tried to tie it at the nape of her neck. He thinks he feels her pull closer. “And what do you dream of?”

 “My brother and I, when we were young, we were always out of doors. We’d have breakfast with my mother and then she’d send us away and we’d spend all day together, collecting rocks and shells from the beaches or scrambling over rocks. We never came home until dinner.”

 “That doesn’t sound like a nightmare to me.”

 “It was lovely,” she says, sounding pained, and he tightens his hold on her. “I had a very idyllic childhood, in most regards. Mostly because my parents didn’t tell me anything that was going on.”

 Cassian laughs, lightly, at that. “That’s what parents are supposed to do.”

 Jyn buries her face in his shoulder, hiding from his gaze. “A lot of good it did me,” she says, and even her tone sounds closed-off.

 “What happens in your dreams?” He asks, quietly. He knows she probably wants to end this conversation and pretend it never happened, but he needs her to know that he’s here, that he’s willing to listen. 

 She takes a deep, shuddering breath, as if to prepare herself. “It’s just me and Bodhi as children, running around wild like always. At first, it feels like a memory, but then it starts to feel…sinister. I don’t really know how to describe it, it’s just this inexplicable dread that washes over me. Sometimes, we can hear people coming, a great mass of them, and we get scared. Other times, there’s some terrible storm moving in, faster than we can run. But we try to get home, anyway. We’re always running to find my mother, to warn her. It always feels so important that we get to her. And the ground falls away beneath our feet. Sometimes, I lose Bodhi; he falls or gets hurt and he’s crying out for my help but I can’t stop, or sometimes, he just disappears and I can’t remember how to get home. And I’m completely alone.”

 After a moment’s silence, Jyn pulls back in his embrace. He doesn’t let her go, but he does give her some space. “Foolish, isn’t it?” She asks, with a false smile. He can hear the unshed tears in her voice and knows she’s trying to make light of it so he doesn’t think her weak.

 “No,” he says, firmly, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. “Not at all. But you and your brother survived the war, Jyn. And you’re together. It must be some comfort to you.”

 “Yes, it is. Of course it is. But our parents didn’t survive. And that version of us, the children who used to play on the beach together, they didn’t survive the war, either. Our lives are so different now. I think that’s what the dream is about.”

 “You wish to go home?”

 “I wish to go back,” she says, bearing his personal question with grace. She thinks on it a moment, before sighing in frustration and shaking her head. “If only it was as simple as returning to Lah’mu. But I know that the place will not be the same now as it was then. And I am different too.”

 “Perhaps that’s why something is always wrong in your dream,” Cassian muses. “You long to go back to that time in your life, but you know you don’t belong there anymore. Maybe that’s the source of the tension you feel in the dream.”

 Jyn looks at him, appraisingly, and he worries that he overstepped somehow. However, when she finally speaks, she doesn’t seem offended. “What do you dream of, Captain?”

 “Me?”

 “Yes. You said you have nightmares too.”

 “Oh, yes,” he replies, with considerable effort. He’d forgotten about that admission. “It’s difficult to explain.”

 “Of course,” Jyn says, and her expression shutters immediately. “You’re under no obligation to tell me.”

 Cassian reaches for a stray piece of hair that’s brushing against her collarbone, twisting the errant strand around his finger loosely. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he says, quietly and more plaintively than he meant to. He doesn’t know why he’s so worried about offending her by accident. “I’m not equivocating. I really do not know how to describe them.”

 “Do you even wish to?” She asks, with a sharpness he deserves but is still unprepared for.

 “No,” he answers honestly, which makes her blink in surprise. “I do not wish to tell you anything that will make you think less of me.”

 “You should not worry about that.”

 “Is your opinion of me already so low?” He asks, with every intention of making light of it but the question comes out unfortunately earnest.

 Jyn, for her part, looks bewildered. “No,” she says, immediately. “Quite the opposite. I have a hard time imagining anything you could say that would make me think less of you.”

 He takes a deep breath, looking away from her face and focusing instead on the strand of hair he’s still toying with. “I always dream of people I’ve…lost. People I’ve hurt or abandoned,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “It’s much like what you’ve described, I think. They feel like memories but I know they’re not quite right. And I know there’s nothing I can do to change what happens. So I just have to live through it again. And again. Until I wake up.”

 As he’s speaking, Jyn reaches for him, closing her hand around his wrist where it’s resting against her shoulder. When he feels the weight of her thumb pressing into the space between the bones of his forearm, he releases the lock of her hair, letting it unspool from around his finger. He’d pull his hand back completely, but her grip on him tightens like she’s read his mind. She brings his hand close enough that she can press her lips to the spot where his pulse is now racing wildly. 

 “You ought to have told me sooner,” she says, and she must be able to feel his heartbeat against her lips. The thought makes him warm with both embarrassment and anticipation.

 He swallows with considerable effort. “To what end?” 

 “There are things,” she says, against the soft skin of his inner wrist, “that a wife can do. To help her husband sleep. To take his mind off his worries. I could do those things for you, if you wanted. You need only ask.”

 She makes it sound so simple, as if they had the sort of marriage where they stated their desires plainly to each other, where they asked for what they wanted and then got it. But the asking is the most difficult part, in Cassian’s experience, or maybe the wanting is. They’ve been intimate together in the way Jyn is implying only once, on their wedding night, and, while enjoyable, it hardly left him with a strong sense of what his wife wants or expects from him.

 Now, though, Jyn is offering that to him again. There was no mistaking it. His own need startles him, thrumming in his veins so loudly that he can hardly think. He has weeks of travel ahead of him, weeks of sleeping on the hard ground with only young, raucous soldiers for company. It will be cold and lonely and it will not even occur to him to complain, to dislike it, since it’s all he knows. Or, rather, it was all he knew before he was married. Before Jyn. He would be wise to avail himself of his wife’s offer while he can, enjoy the softness of her before he leaves and knows no softness of any kind for weeks.

 He takes too long considering it, though, for Jyn’s face falls and she pulls back from him, only a little but it feels like a great distance, when they are this close. “Of course, you should feel no obligation to—”

 “I don’t,” he replies, hastily. “I don’t feel any obligation.”

 “I merely thought I should offer,” she says, and her eyes lower to avoid his gaze.

 “No, that’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, closing his eyes in embarrassment. “What I meant to say is…what I feel for you is not obligation.”

 He can feel her looking at him now, the scrutiny in her gaze obvious even with his eyes still closed. “And what do you feel for me, Captain?” She asks, carefully.

  An overwhelming and terrible want , he thinks. A desire so deep he has yet to discover the bottom of it. A dangerous kind of possessiveness, like they belong to one another, even though they’re not the sort of people who belong to anyone, or the sort to hold onto anything they’re given too tightly, because they know the pain of having it taken away.

 He doesn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he makes the mistake of opening his eyes and looking at her and the only logical conclusion to that action is to step forward and kiss her. His hand, the one she’s not still holding captive, curves around her cheek as his mouth covers hers. Her lips part for him without hesitation and their kiss deepens. It’s as good as their wedding night, but this time he’s sharp and clear headed, not hazy and tired from long hours of drinking and celebrating, and he intends to memorize every single detail. The way she wraps her arm around him and her fingers dig into his shoulder blade, desperate for purchase. The sound of surprise she made when their lips first met and how it mellows into a quiet hum of satisfaction, as if she’s been waiting for this.

 When she pulls away from him after a few moments, it takes everything in his power not to whine in complaint. But they’re both breathing heavily and Jyn’s hair is even more disheveled than before, which might be his fault but could also be from the wind that’s doing its best to push them back to their warm bed. He’s beginning to think they should listen, and he’s about to say as much, when Jyn speaks first.

 “You’re cold,” she says, and he’s about to take it the wrong way when she pulls his hand from her face and wraps it up in both of her own to warm it.

 He laughs, more overwhelmed than anything else. “I don’t feel it,” he says, because he was too busy feeling everything else. 

 She levels an arch look at him, either because she’s not impressed with his effort to flatter her or because she’s actually worried he’s going to catch his death like this, kissing her on a hillside in the early morning. He’s going to die somehow, it might as well be like this, he thinks, but he doesn’t try to kiss her again. He has the sense that she has more to say.

 “You can kiss me in our bedroom, you know,” she says, making it worth the wait. 

 His heartbeat races, caught somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. “I can?” He asks, stupidly.

 Jyn searches his face, looking for something. Reassurance, perhaps, or sincerity. Whatever she’s looking for, she must find it, because she nods, slowly, and a smile overtakes her face. “You can kiss me anywhere you like,” she says, and it does his heart rate no favors.

 Cassian steps back, grabbing her hand so he can pull her with him in the direction of the castle. She follows him and, as they walk, he pulls her into his side, burying his face in her neck and planting a kiss there. When she squirms slightly and elbows him in the ribs, he laughs against her skin.

 “You said  anywhere ,” he says, and she laughs too.

 ***

 The next morning, the castle bustles with activity as Cassian leaves his briefing with Draven. Using the former seat of the emperor’s power as the headquarters of the government of the New Republic has always struck him as a smart choice on the part of the rebels, from a symbolic standpoint and in a practical sense of needing the actual work of governing the country to happen somewhere. By its very nature, a castle is almost comically oversized for one person’s needs, even a ruler’s, and so the former rebels had made a much better use of the space than the emperor ever had.

 However, on this particular morning, with his mind already running through logistics of the mission ahead and planning what to say to the soldiers he’s bringing along, Cassian finds the crowded halls and corridors more grating than he normally does. It hadn’t seemed possible to feel this way during the war, when the emperor’s excesses had seemed so absurd and villainous, but Cassian is beginning to wonder if maybe the castle is too small for their purposes. The new government will loathe the idea of expanding, will object to spending money on something so frivolous, but it may be necessary, he thinks, as he bumps into yet another person in the crush of people moving about as he makes his way to the courtyard. The small party of soldiers accompanying him on this mission are gathering there now and they’re meant to depart in less than an hour. It will not set a good tone for the next few weeks if their captain keeps them waiting.

 Much like in the old days—and it is staggering to think of the rebellion as something of the past, he realizes with a lurch—these missions are to gather information on activity across the Republic. However, unlike in the old days, he’s not trying to find the one piece of intelligence he’s certain will win the war for the rebels, which is a welcome change. He’s also, generally speaking, not in constant mortal danger anymore, though there are some areas of the country that the war ravaged worse than others, leaving desperation and crime in its wake. That’s why Draven still sends Cassian on these scouting missions, to see what corners of the nation still need aid or resources. Peacetime has been far from perfect for everyone, but even with the things he’s seen, Cassian can’t deny most people, himself included, are better off.

 He’s so lost in his thoughts of the mission as he makes his way to the rendezvous point he arranged with the party that Bodhi must have had to call his name a half a dozen times before Cassian finally heard him. By the time he turns around, Bodhi is practically at his elbow, which is both impressive and guilt-inducing, from the way Cassian can see him leaning heavily on his cane. He does his best not to wince, because Bodhi doesn’t enjoy being fretted over, and slows down so his brother-in-law can more easily keep pace with him instead.

 “Captain,” Bodhi exclaims, managing to only sound slightly out of breath, “I’m glad I caught you!”

 “Coming to see me off, Captain Rook?” Cassian asks, pointedly.

 Bodhi looks properly chastened. “Sorry, Cassian. I’m still not used to it.”

 “Calling me by my first name or being a captain yourself?”

 “Either,” he says, and Cassian understands. Bodhi was only promoted to Captain after his heroics in the Battle of Eadu and it was only a few months later that the treaty was signed. He’s only ever been a captain in peacetime. “I just don’t fully think of you as my sister’s husband yet.”

 That does make Cassian wince and he isn’t quick enough to hide it from Bodhi, whose eyes immediately widen in alarm. “Not like that!” he practically shouts. “I mean, it’s nothing to do with you! I just can’t believe Jyn has a husband at all. In my head, she’s still six years old and telling me what to do all the time.”

 “To be fair, she does still tell you what to do,” Cassian replies. “No change in your rank will ever change that.”

 Bodhi laughs. “You’re certainly right about that.” After a brief pause, he adds, “Where is my sister, anyway? Isn’t she coming to see you off?”

 “Oh, well, she’s—no.” He clears his throat. “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”

 Bodhi nods absently, seemingly satisfied with this answer and mercifully doesn’t ask for any further details. Cassian is not sure his nonchalant facade would hold up under questioning and the exact nature of the goodbye he and his wife shared this morning would soon be extremely obvious to her brother. It’s better for everyone if they somehow avoid that outcome altogether.

 His relief is short-lived, however, when Bodhi suddenly asks, “And did she…uh…did she get a chance to, well…?”

 They arrive at the training yard before Bodhi arrives at his actual question. Cassian pauses in the archway that leads into the yard and turns to face him. “What is it?” He asks, dreading the answer.

 “Well, I was just wondering if my sister got a chance to speak with you?”

 “Bodhi, your sister and I are married. We speak with one another quite often as a result. You will need to be more specific.”

 Bodhi makes a face that suggests he would much rather do anything else. “I thought she might have mentioned the incident with Senator Jebel?” he says, voice stuck between a statement and a question.

 Cassian blinks, searching his memory for anything relevant. “Incident?” He finally asks, when nothing comes to mind. He doesn’t like the sound of that.

 “‘Incident’ might be too strong a word,” Bodhi admits apologetically. 

 “Here’s an idea: why don’t you tell me what happened and I’ll decide what the correct word for it is?” 

 “It’s just—if Jyn didn’t tell you about it, then it clearly didn’t bother her very much. I certainly don’t want to insert myself into the middle of your marriage!”

 Cassian doesn’t point out that it’s a little late for that sentiment and instead asks, as calmly as he can manage, “What happened, Bodhi?”

 “Well, it was just—” He pauses as a few people pass between them to exit into the yard, shifting his weight uncomfortably while trying to maintain his grip on his cane. When they’re gone, he continues, “Jyn and I were walking together the other day when we came across Lieutenant Tuesso walking with Senator Jebel. And, well, Kay was saying something to her about passing along some information for your upcoming scouting mission and—actually, Jyn told him to tell it to you himself because she’s not your secretary—”

 Cassian smiles at that, able to picture it so clearly. Kay is perhaps his oldest friend and the person he trusts most in the field, but he and Jyn get along like oil and water. Still, if Kay had truly objected to Cassian’s marriage, he would have done everything in his power to stop it, but he’d only asked if Cassian was sure before giving his blessing. Well, it was more like his resignation, but coming from Kay, they’re basically the same thing. Cassian likes to imagine that Jyn’s fiery temper and sharp wit secretly amuse Kay but he’s simply too stubborn to admit it.

 “But that’s not the point,” Bodhi says, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “The point is: Kay was talking about your trip and Senator Jebel asked why you were being sent off on a mission so close to your wedding, to which Jyn replied that it had been three months and that it wasn't  terribly close. And then the Senator said she must have been very confident in…well, winning you over, if she was comfortable sending you off on your own so soon.”

 “‘Winning me over’? What does that even mean?”

 Bodhi looks uncomfortable. “You know, as a wife?” He says, sounding pained. When Cassian just stares at him blankly, he sighs and adds, begrudgingly, “Senator Jebel may have implied that a man of your rank might use a mission like this to…avail themselves of the sexual talents of women other than their wives, you know, during their travels. Unless, of course, the wife in question had already proved herself irreplaceable in that regard.”

 Cassian knows that Bodhi has expressed himself clearly and put all of his words in the right order, and yet he still cannot comprehend a single thing he’s just heard. They stare at each other in silence—his baffled, Bodhi’s embarrassed—for a long time before anything clicks into place in Cassian’s mind.

 “He said this  to Jyn?” He asks, finally. It’s hard to speak around all of the dread pooling at the base of this throat.

 Bodhi cringes. “Well, he really said it to me and Kay. He was talking over Jyn’s head, which sounds better but, as you can imagine, made it much worse.”

 “And what did she have to say to all this?”

 “I made sure to drag her away as quickly as possible and Kay distracted the Senator with just as much haste!” 

 “Bodhi,” Cassian says on an exhale. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, feeling the early signs of a headache coming on. “What did Jyn say?”

 His shoulders sag in defeat. “She only said that she had no concerns on that front,” Bodhi says, plainly unsure if he’s helping or hurting at this point. “And then I made our excuses and got her away from him as soon as I could, I promise!”

 “I believe you,” Cassian replies, holding up a hand in acknowledgement. “And I appreciate your efforts to take care of your sister.”

 “I thought perhaps her feelings had been hurt by Senator Jebel’s comments, but since she has not mentioned the incident to you, perhaps she dismissed them as quickly as they deserved.”

 “Perhaps,” Cassian says, for Bodhi’s benefit, but his mind is on his wife’s behavior this morning; all of her talk of the ways a wife could comfort her husband, how solicitous of his troubles she’d been, how vulnerable she’d seemed herself, even the kisses they’d shared and the way she’d allowed him to take her to bed. How different it all looked in this new light. Of course she wouldn’t mention the conversation with the Senator to him—to do so would be, in Jyn’s mind, to admit to a weakness, that she cared at all what others thought of their marriage or, worse, that she cared what Cassian thought of her as a wife—but it wouldn’t stop her from taking it as advice. 

 So she’d seduced him, and quite adeptly at that. He hadn’t even realized it was happening. He might have known better, under other circumstances, but he’d naively thought that being married to someone meant that you didn’t have to concern yourself with seduction. If his wife wanted to sleep with him, it seemed to him that all she had to do was show interest in such a thing or, heaven forbid, simply say so, and she could have her way. To play such games about it seems counterproductive to him, but given how easily he was manipulated on this occasion, Cassian might not be the person to ask.

 “I hope I haven’t spoken out of turn,” Bodhi says, anxiously, at which point Cassian realizes he has been staring off into space for a long moment.

 “Of course not,” he says immediately. “I appreciate your telling me.”

 “You won’t tell Jyn I mentioned it, will you?”

 “No. Like you said, if it had bothered her, she would have told me herself.” It isn’t true, not in the slightest, but Cassian can see that Bodhi needs to hear it. “Besides, now I can use my spare time on this trip to plan my revenge on Senator Jebel.”

 “Revenge?” Bodhi asks, wide-eyed with concern. It’s sometimes hard to believe someone as tenderhearted as he is fought in the war, let alone survived it. 

 Cassian waves a hand dismissively. “I’m not thinking of challenging him to a duel, Bodhi. Relax. But there are a great many ways a man of my position can make his life…uncomfortable and I shall enjoy thinking of as many of them as possible.”

 “I am once again reminded how glad I am to be on your good side, Cassian,” Bodhi says, faintly. “And that you’re looking out for my sister.”

 Cassian has never felt less capable of doing any such thing, not when Jyn is still keeping secrets from him and treating him as an opponent, but he nods anyway. His wife would likely roll her eyes at the sentiment, but he cannot stand by knowing that someone made her feel small even for a moment. He gets a savage sort of thrill out of the idea that she shall have his protection, whether she wants it or not. 

 “I am glad to be of service,” he says, vaguely. “But I’m afraid I must give the soldiers their orders now if we’re to be off on time.”

 “Of course. Safe travels.” Bodhi offers his hand for Cassian to shake and then claps him on the shoulder as he takes his leave.

 Cassian is certain that he relays Draven’s orders to the soldiers assembled in the yard as soon as he’s done speaking with Bodhi but he can’t actually remember a single thing he said by the time he’s securing the saddle on his own horse. His only excuse is that his mind is obviously elsewhere. Even though he knows he should focus on the mission ahead, he can’t stop thinking about Jyn. 

 As though he’s conjured her, she suddenly appears in the courtyard, with Kay and Senator Mothma in tow. The latter two are deep in conversation about something, while his wife doesn’t seem to be participating at all if the mild, far-off look on her face is any indication. It’s not surprising to see them all together; he’s sure that the Senator is the one who approved their scouting mission for General Draven and that he asked Kay to appraise her of the mission’s status because he’d rather not do it himself. And Jyn and Senator Mothma are often in each other’s company. Jyn often jokes that the Senator has claimed her as an unofficial assistant but Cassian suspects it’s just because she doesn’t want to admit that they are friends. 

 Before he can think better of it, Cassian calls out to Jyn, despite the fact that she’s on the other side of the courtyard still. It doesn’t occur to him until afterwards that shouting to get someone’s attention in a crowded area is probably bad manners, especially if that person is a lady. She looks startled to hear her name and the soldiers scattered throughout the area look up in shock at hearing him raise his voice at all. When her eyes meet his across the yard, Jyn’s neutral, distant expression shutters, turning into something more wary and focused. Cassian tilts his chin very slightly to beckon her over, not risking a bigger gesture lest the assembled soldiers think they’re about to witness something salacious. He’s determined they won’t, and Jyn catches his meaning anyway, even from a distance, and begins to make her way over.

 He means to use the long moment it will take her to reach him to plan what he will say, how he will broach this delicate subject with her without implicating her brother in divulging the information to him, but he’s too distracted by the sight of her. She’s dressed plainly enough, not being one for embellishment, but her dress is a deep burgundy that suits and fits her well and she’s gingerly holding the skirt to keep the hem from dragging along the dirty ground. He only has to think on her clothing for a moment before his mind supplies the image of her this morning, as he was preparing to leave, just in her nightshirt, only deigning to get out of their bed to give him one last kiss goodbye. It was the only time he can remember being tempted to stay in bed rather than get on with his work. By the time she arrives, his face is warm with the sort of embarrassment he thought he’d grow out of once he was married.

 “Yes, my lord?” She asks, and he’d tell her again to do away with such pointless formality if he couldn’t see the bright glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She’s trying to be funny.

 He still has no idea what to say to her. His mind remains a complete blank, while his pulse is running wild. There is no way to tell her she should have trusted him enough to tell him about the incident with Senator Jebel, or that he knows the intimate moment they shared this morning was more inspired by that than by any genuine passion on her part, without giving away that he’s been listening to gossip. To admit that would only succeed in raising her defenses and causing an argument.

 She didn’t trust him. That’s the heart of the matter and what is bothering him the most. Or perhaps it is that, for once in his life, he acted without suspicion or subterfuge and now he looks like a fool. Without realizing it, he’d begun to trust her but apparently the feeling is not mutual. It is only once this thought articulates itself in his mind that he catches himself; he’s embarrassed. She’s injured nothing but his sense of pride—that he always knows when someone is lying to him, that he’s always the man in the room with the most information. 

 But what, really, is the cost? So what if she outsmarted him? It’s not life or death, this. He wishes she had felt safe enough to be honest with him, but he can hardly blame her that she didn’t. In the grand scheme of things, they hardly know each other and three months is not long enough to change a lifetime of mistrust in others, especially if one is accustomed to it as a means of survival. He still doesn’t know much about her past before they met, but if it was anything like his, he understands why opening up to him might prove difficult. 

 And maybe some of it was real—the dream she told him about, the reasons she has difficulty sleeping. Maybe she needed the ulterior motive of seducing him to make sure he doesn’t stray as an excuse to tell him the truth. And what does it tell her if he gets angry? How does it look if he holds it against her for being as secretive and wary as he always is himself? How can he ever expect her to trust him with anything if he lets his ego get in the way now? And perhaps more importantly, what does it really cost him to let her be right? 

 If she did what he thinks she did, it was an act of desperation, to ensure that she had some control over the life she was unceremoniously shoved into three months ago. She was afraid of the idea of him leaving on this trip and forgetting the vows he’d made as soon as she was out of sight. He can see now all the ways that her own ego is tied up in this—not wanting to be seen as an inadequate wife, wanting to prove Jebel wrong after he’d been so crass and unkind to her, and perhaps even worrying that Cassian felt the same way, that he had any complaints of their marriage—but he can also see further, to the core of the matter, where it’s just Jyn being afraid and alone. How can he punish her for that, when all he wants is for her to feel safe with him? 

 It costs him nothing to let her be right, then; to let her believe that he’s blissfully unaware of any hidden reason for her behavior or any conflict and just play the role of the devoted, smitten husband. It’s not as if he planned to be unfaithful to her while he was away, and giving her some assurance on that matter without revealing what he knows should be easy enough. Let her believe that her machinations paid off and she’s won her husband over with her feminine wiles. There’s no harm in that. When he thinks of it that way, it’s barely even a lie.

 “Cassian,” she says now, eyes full of concern at his silently staring at her. “Is everything alright?”

 He comes back to the present moment when her hand comes to rest on his arm. “Yes, everything is fine,” he says, weakly. “I apologize. There were probably less dramatic ways to get your attention.”

 “No matter. I appreciate the efficiency of your method, I must say.”

 “Still, I do not wish to embarrass you.” When he sees she means to shrug at that, he adds, “under any circumstances.”

 She blinks at him, surprised, so some of his implied meaning must come through. “You do not embarrass me,” she replies, warily.

 “I am glad to hear it.”

 “Is that why you called me over?” She asks.

 “No, I was—well, I realized I had forgotten to ask you if…well, if there was anything you needed.”

 “Me?”

 He nods, probably a touch too emphatically. He’s normally better at this, but Jyn has always caught him off guard. “Yes, I’m going to be traveling for the next few weeks and you can get almost anything from the markets in the southern provinces, so if there was anything you needed, I could bring it back for you.”

 She stares at him as though he’s spoken in a language she’s never heard before. “I don’t believe I need anything at the present,” she says, finally, after considering her words for a long time.

 “It doesn’t have to be something you need,” he says. “Something you want would suffice. Didn’t you lose your gloves recently?”

 “No, I found them. I had left them in Senator Mothma’s chambers after she and I returned from a walk.”

 “Still, I could get you nicer gloves.”

 “It wouldn’t make much difference. I’d still forget them everywhere.”

 “I could get you several pairs of gloves.”

 “Cassian, what is this about?”

 He covers her hand, still lingering on his arm, with his own, chafing her knuckles with his thumb. “Keeping your hands warm,” he says innocently.

 She laughs incredulously. “You are not going away for the sole purpose of buying me presents. You will be busy with work. I imagine you will hardly have time to even think of me.”

 “No, I’m afraid the real difficulty will be thinking of anything else,” Cassian says, his own pulse thundering behind his ears. It’s not the nerves of telling a lie and fearing getting caught, he realizes, but the panic of finally telling someone the long-guarded truth.

 Jyn looks down at her feet, scuffing the toe of her shoe back and forth in the gravel. “You don’t need to say such things. I do not require flattery to sustain me.”

 “Well, whether you’re flattered or not is incidental. What matters is that it’s true.”

 “Is that why you said it?”

 “Yes. I know the truth and I have a complicated relationship, sometimes by necessity, but I try to be honest with you, as much as I can be. And I can only hope that I get a little better at it with each try. It’s not much, I know, but—”

 “It’s worth more than you think,” she says carefully. 

 “I’m glad you feel that way.” He doesn’t say the rest of what he’s thinking— you can be honest with me too  or  I wish we could know each other better —because it feels like asking too much or risking betraying Bodhi’s confidence, so he leaves it at that. 

 Behind him, one of the lieutenants whistles for everyone’s attention. “Everyone is here and accounted for, Captain,” he adds, to Cassian. “We’re ready when you are.”

 Cassian nods to him before looking back at Jyn just at the moment the wind picks up and loosens several strands of her hair from where it’s pulled back. He attempts to brush them back into place, while she watches him with amusement.

 “It seems I must be going,” he says.

 “So it does,” she replies. She appears to struggle with something, turning it over in her mind for a moment before she leans in and kisses him. His hand is still buried in her hair, trying to keep it from blowing about in the breeze again, and it helps him to keep her close. He’d normally be reticent to have such a display in front of his fellow soldiers—he doesn’t want to give them inspiration for gossip or a reason to tease him mercilessly if he has to spend the next several weeks in their company—but he’ll have to make an exception this time. It feels like a coded message from Jyn, that she trusts him, that he’s done well as her husband, at least in this moment. She’s not one to say so directly, and that’s fine. He’s willing to learn to speak her language, especially if it means kissing her like this more often.

 However, common sense prevails eventually and he’s forced to pull back from her before they embarrass themselves in front of all the gathered soldiers. He runs his thumb over her cheek just once, feeling the chill of the morning there more than in his own body. “Goodbye, Jyn,” he says, quietly so only she can hear, and kisses her knuckles lightly for good measure.

 “Take care of yourself,” she says, in a rush. Like she’s tried to keep it to herself but couldn’t manage it. “I expect you home in one piece or there will be hell to pay.”

 “Of course, my dear,” he says as he steps up into the saddle. 

 “Don’t worry, ma’am,” the lieutenant beside Cassian chimes in, looking amused. “We will make sure nothing happens to your husband. You have my word.”

 Cassian shakes his head at the young man, who looks even more shamelessly delighted, but Jyn is pleased by this, he can tell. 

 “Good,” she replies, nodding at him. “You don’t know me very well, sir, but I will tell you this: you would not like to be on my bad side.”

 The lieutenant laughs. “No, ma’am, I would not. I’ll lead the party out, if you’d like, sir,” he adds to Cassian.

 “Thank you,” Cassian replies. When the group has started to move out from the courtyard, he turns his attention back to Jyn and reaches his hand out to her.

 She takes it, and plants a kiss on his knuckles. “My thoughts go with you,” she says.

 “And mine stay here with you.”

 The answering smile he receives stays with him as he follows the rest of the party out of the courtyard, as he lies on the cold ground of their camp that night, even as the mission turns long and tedious. It lasts until he can replace it in his memory with the smile he gets when he returns home again and sweeps her into his arms once more.

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 16

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Deaging~

Yes I know I left a cliff hanger. Yes I know it was evil. That my friends is the point! if I cannot be an evil gremlin whats the point in writing at all.

Ao3

First < Previous

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Damian blinks awake, head groggy and with an ingrained sense to pretend he’s still unconscious. There are bird calls and the sound of the wind. He isn't at the league's base. Last he remembers he was.

Then he catches the sound of movement, not from an animal but a human. He stays still. They look around for a minute before shuffling closer to him. Foolish, they were obviously untrained and stupid. Even more so when they poke his cheek talking with soft-spoken words.

Damian grabs the wrist lightning-fast making them yelp. He surges up turning the grip into a pin and going for his sword, which isn’t there. In fact, he has no weapons. This realization makes him zero in on the person below him. It’s a girl, his age, and looking terrified. As she should be.

“Who are you?” He demands, no weapons so he presses the wrist at a painful angle.

“Ma-Marinette!” She squeaks, Damian doesn’t let up raising an eyebrow, “Dupain-cheng!”

Damian doesn’t know that name. So she can’t be a threat and she can’t be important. He lets up enough that her wrist won’t break and takes stock of his surroundings. They’re outside, a tropical area judging by the foliage. There are tire tracks, some footprints, and that's it, no other people around. 

It must be a test from his mother or grandfather, those aren’t unusual. The question is what could it be. Certainly, it can’t just be to kill this girl, Marinette. Even without weapons he could have snapped her neck long ago. Information doesn't seem to be it either she doesn't have any training in resisting pain. But perhaps she can provide a clue, maybe that's her purpose.

“Why are we here?”

“I don’t know!” Or perhaps not.

He’ll have to look around. He drags Marinette over to a tree using the vines to tie her up.

“If I am meant to kill you I can do that later, it’s harder to unkill someone,” She relaxes, “Harder, not impossible,”

She is no longer relaxed. Damian paces through the forest, the tire tracks are clear, no effort to hide them, and can easily be followed back. He takes stock of his clothing. Someone changed those. They are all ill fitting, and now that he notices so are Marinette’s. Damian looks over his person for any details missed, finding a small notebook.

None of its coded which is strange in itself since it’s his had writing. Notes, a to-do list, Marinette is mentioned several times, something about a pet store, calculations and what he’s looking for; a location. They’ll head to Alaska then, he likely had to bring Marinette considering she was mentioned. He’ll have to find out where they are and move from there.

“Where are we going?” She demands as Damian unties her from the tree, not completely unbound as they start walking.

“That's not your concern,” Damian snaps pulling her along by a length of vine.

“Well, I am concerned so-”

“What?” He hisses turning to glare at her, Marinette shrinks under it.

“Fine,” She follows along in a few blessed moments of silence,  “... what’s your name?”

“That’s not your concern either,” Damian rolls his eyes, this journey is going to be insufferable.

“Is anything my concern?” Marinette snarks, Damian squashes the smirk down putting up his serious facade.

“Walking faster so I don't gut you,”

That's an effective threat, at least for a while. Damina followed the trail of snapped branches and squashed foliage. If this was a test tracking certainly wasn't what was being tested. So what was? How quickly did he have to figure it out? And what would be the punishment if he didn’t?

“Do you know where we are?” Marinette tries again, she’s incessant that certain.

“I will soon,” The dirt was kicked up into what could almost be a road. They followed to find a proper dirt road and follow the worn path.

There's a few tracks, recent enough to be the past few days which means it wasn't just the people responsible for their situation that have come through here. It was a long walk. Not that it bothered Damian he had trained for much worse. The problem was Marinette. She wasn't tired, actually the opposite which was a problem for Damian. Pounding him with a hundred questions a minute.

“I’m from Paris,” Despite her hands being tied behind her Marinette still managed to lean in front of him, “Where are you from?”

“That's none of your business,” And so he kept trying to shut down every topic, but Marinette seemed more afraid of silence than whatever threat he could dish up.

When night started to fall they set up camp off to the side of the road. With luck, a truck would drive by at some point and he could commandeer the vehicle. Damian was willing to set up a fire but not try and hunt. Without weapons and Marinette in tow, it would be a pointless task regardless.

“Do you like pastries? I live above a bakery,” Which only begged the question of why this girl was important. The daughter of a baker? He was the demon heir and son of Batman, why on earth was he left here with her?

“I don’t care shut up,” Damian rolls over, Marinette securely fastened to a tree. 

He wouldn't sleep tonight but maybe the illusion would keep her quiet. It doesn't. And Damina is unwillingly lulled to sleep. He only realized this when he was startled awake by Marinette warning him that a truck was coming. Damian readies himself to fight as the truck slows as it approaches them. Marinette has other ideas.

“Excuse me, we could use a ride,” 

“Why are you tied up?” the driver asks looking between them concerned.

“A-a prank!” She is not a convincing liar, “Could we please ride with you?”

“Uh, sure, just untangle yourself and let's go,” Damian weighs the advantages of just killing the driver here, but ultimately deems it not worth the effort. Letting Marinette free can’t be that big a risk he greatly outmatches her in speed, strength, and skill.

Damian will admit her habitual questioning comes as an advantage as she makes small talk with the driver. Figuring out where they are. They get dropped off at the main city and from there they go to the port. It’ll be easier to stow away on a ship than a plane even if it will take longer.

“Stay quiet and follow me,” Damian warns Marinette, hiding behind crates at the dock.

Marinette nods following along closely her steps louder than his practiced soft ones. They sneak onto the boat headed for Alaska, its easy enough to stow away hiding among the shipment during the security checks.

“Wow you move like my Maman,” Marinette whispers, once the security has left.

“I highly doubt that,” Damian scoffs perched vigilant high on the crates.

“No really, she always moves silently and sneaks up on Papa accidentally,” Marinette giggles leaning back on the crates.

“Ah-ha,” Damian dismisses watching her out the corner of his eye.

“Yeah she tried to teach me but I’m too clumsy,” 

“Teach you?” Damian actually looks over, “That would imply she actually trained,”

“She did, I don’t know where but I think it was with aunt Talia,” Damian freezes.

“.... Talia?” He hesitates, looking fully at Marinette now, “What's your mother's name?”

“Hm? Sabine,”

… well… it's a really good thing I didn't kill her Sabine would have taken down the whole league

“... So it was an act?” Marinette looks over at him concerned, “Surely Sabines daughter wouldn't be bested so easily,”

“What are you talking about?”

She must know something but what?

“Hey, wanna play hide and seek?” Marinette breaks Damian out of his thoughts.

“For training?” Damian puzzles.

“No silly,” She laughs, Damian can't bring himself to feel offended as it doesn't feel like she's laughing at him, “For fun,”

Hesitantly he lets her drag him along, taking turns hiding among the crates. At first, it does feel like training, staying silent, staying still. Then when she catches him he realizes the difference. There's no pain, no punishment, nothing. Marinette just smiles.

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no taglist :P