#so it’s very much andor town in these parts

[rooksunday]

i’m back and finishing episode four and sinking into despair etc etc

but! what struck me this time as the ISB officer tells meero to, essentially, cool her jets a second, is that the conversation is similar to the older officer telling karn the same, and so is the elder-to-younger of it

in both cases i’m struck that the older officers will have lived under the republic and now the empire, which is already being threatened by rebellion, and keep your head down is a viable strategy for an incoming third regime change, you know?

it makes me think of the dynamic of luthen and cassian being the reverse of this. when we meet him, cassian is ostrich-deep in that head down strategy, and it’s luthen who reaches in and yanks him out. because luthen is old enough to know that regimes only change when you topple them.

and it’s about mmm it’s about it the contrast in who makes history and who weathers it, i guess.

anyway i feel totally fine and normal

finally rewatching the Area Man (gender neutral; plural) Makes One Bad Decision After Another Show, because that’s what 2025 requires of me

in the first episode: area man tries too hard at work, fucks cassian over

in the second episode: area man tries too hard at home, fucks cassian over

like come ON. he’s too pretty and damaged for this nonsense. sure he shot that guy in the face but even the guy’s boss didn’t give a fuck.

[colleybrifanfics]

Imagine a divergent universe, where Cassian Andor never met two bullies on Morlana 1.

He’s not the man he should be.

Jyn Erso, dedicated Rebel in the face of an impossible fight with a triumphant Empire, comes to Ferrix one morning to buy stolen parts. Cassian is very much… his old self.

NSFW below the cut. Smut with a distinctly wistful flavour.

Ferrix, Imperial Era 24

As the glow of dawn makes a rare appearance low on the horizon a flock of five steelpeckers flap over, low and squawking, heading from the main salyards to their daytime roosting sites in the surrounding hills. He tenses a little, instinctively, and hurries under the awning at Gueti’s. One of these birds had shat on him once, and clothes were basically unsalvageable after that. He isn’t ready to give up on this coat yet, not after all these years.

He doesn’t go off-world much these days as the risks are so high, but he does remember a few planets with … nicer birds. Birds that made pleasant noises to greet the day, a chorus of joy at a new beginning rather those guttural cries that put in mind a Corellian hound being throttled. He can't remember the morning songs of the birds of Kenari, though, and supposes he never really noticed.

He selects an outdoor table with a nearby heater, greets Gueti and orders caf and pistachio cake. Then, oh so casually, he places a little iron bowl on the table and pulls out the datapad from his large bag. The Time Grappler marks Start of Day but his, and Gueti’s, and his buyer’s (whoever they may be) has already started.

So. Something to read while he waits.

How many have died recently?

He rarely dwells on the news these days. It’s so hard to know what is the truth anymore. But illicit stations, broadcasting from ships flying under flags of convenience or from all-out pirate vessels, still pop up every few months before being shut down, and manage sometimes to broadcast text updates too. His datapad is ancient and he can’t afford the latest software update, but it doesn’t matter - these guys use old tech and the ‘dark’ holonet, whatever that is. He still likes old tech. He stares at the silently unfolding letters, telling the same familiar story. Another several-billion lives destroyed in a heartbeat. Apparently, a rebel cell had been located on this outer-rim world, a planet he had never even heard of - and that fact didn’t matter one bit because it didn’t exist anymore anyway.

Peace is, according to the official version, being kept. According to the unofficial version, Palpatine is simply wiping out any signs of resistance. He sighs. You think they would have learned their lesson by now, those rebels. How utterly pointless it was to fight back. It’s so much better to live. To eat, to sleep.

He is vaguely thankful, in a passing thought that commonly comes his way, that Ferrix has stayed relatively unscathed all this time. It’s a well-behaved community. Heads down, continuing as they always have to exploit those with money, whatever the design of their flag or logo.

His buyer is late. Still, he doesn’t mind. It means more time to enjoy the small pleasures of an early morning. He lights a cigarette - the iron bowl serving as an ashtray. It’s good cover for its presence, but he wants to smoke anyway. Since giving up the drink, told at last flat-out first by the doctor and then, more convincingly, by Brasso that it would be the death of him if he didn’t, he had felt.. hmm, rebellious … enough to take up another vice. Death-sticks had no appeal even for a risk-taker like him and the last thing he needed was more mental stimulation. Just something to make the days seem… a little more pleasant, in some indefinable way.

“Hello. Is this seat free?” The voice is from behind him and belongs to a human woman, with a clipped Core worlds accent, and obviously she is a small individual as he had not heard her approach over the sounds of the waking town.

He turns and takes her in fully. She is in Pre-Mor uniform, but of course that can mean very little and there’s something about the way she wears it just a bit… too well that makes him immediately positive that she isn’t Pre-Mor. No matter. As long as she has his money, he really doesn’t care.

She’s looking at him very directly, with pale grey-green eyes. She’s attractive. Definitely. He’s probably spending a beat too long looking at her as her eyes now dart quickly to the table - the little iron bowl there - and he realises she’s waiting for confirmation. He gives it with a little wave and she sits. Gueti is over in an instant and she orders caf but nothing to eat.

He sees her eyeing the cigarette. “Would you like one?” he asks.

She grimaces. “No, I hate the smell. Thank you, though.” She says this forcefully enough to compel him to hold the cigarette down and behind his stool so that the fumes don’t bother her. She’s intriguing him already. She doesn’t really look like a rebel. But he is immediately of the belief that that is what she is and wonders if she will realise that he suspects.

Negotiations begin. He’s so used to this now, it’s almost second nature. He's employing a favourite tactic today: try to bump up the price agreed remotely by introducing another unexpected piece as a bonus. The buyer would then sometimes think they were getting a bargain, without the time to research the actual value of said piece. But he knows not to push either the price or the deception too high. He likes repeat customers.

Repeat customers. She is talking now about how the masking transponder he has produced from the bag isn’t the exact model stated in their communications, and he’s telling her that it’s superior. He’s talking on autopilot, practically. A good part of his concentration is leaping ahead twenty minutes or so, to the time when he estimates that they will finish their business in a mutually agreeable way. He is thinking about how he might persuade her to delay her departure.

Because she is very attractive. And the problem with getting repeat customers on Ferrix these days is that … the women who live here all know him. Either directly or by reputation.

Off-worlders were a happier hunting ground these days. With them, he could very often rely on his old methods. Which basically consisted of throwing out the net and seeing if the object of his desire wanted to swim into it. He knew how good he looked, despite the signs of his past indulgences. He didn’t see it as vanity, just as a simple fact - evidenced by the way that the lamest of pickup lines would almost always result in… a pickup. Experimentally, he had even once tried the simple “I’m free if you are...?” - and had scored a pretty much instant success.

He realises soon enough that he should have put a little more thought into this, but then he wasn’t prepared for this particular buyer.

All he can manage, as they stand up, salvaged or stolen parts and credits exchanged, is “Would you like to stay a little longer and…”. He realises his error immediately, as her gaze goes from his face to his hand, where it had been making a vague waving gesture at the dusty street that seemed to suggest that the sentence might finish with ‘…let me show you the sights of Ferrix’, and then back to his face with a dawning expression of incredulous and derisive mirth.

Her laugh is loud enough to draw a glance from Gueti over at the counter.

“That’s actually hilarious. I was warned about you, y’know, by my contact before she gave me the rendezvous details. I thought you were going to be a real Loth-wolf. But this? Is this the best you’ve got?”

Stung but helpless and still hoping, despite these less than auspicious signs, all he can do is smile. Sometimes that would work. In fact, most things would work on off-world women. Again, he really wasn’t used to making much of an effort with them. He wasn’t very good at conversation. Perhaps he should just be frank.

“I just thought.. you might like a little fun. You know. If you want to, we can go…”

“Oh wow, you really don’t know when to stop, do you!” But her smile is now wide and genuine, and he still goes on hoping. He doesn’t mind being humiliated if a payoff may yet come his way.

At this most bizarre but strangely captivating impasse they continue to regard each other levelly. Finally, she tilts her head a little to one side and she subjects the full length of his body to a long, sweeping stare, as if assessing the visual condition of a speeder before deciding whether it is worth a test drive.

(Cont below - NSFW. )

“OK,” she says contemplatively, with a smile that reveals another glimpse of her prominent overbite. It’s… very cute. “Why not?”

He does have a very lovely smile, she thinks. And it had been clear that Caleen had feelings for him, despite the lighthearted warning. An intelligent being, especially a female, can often sense the painful truth behind the outward nonchalance. He was obviously an ex who she still cared about, despite everything.

But besides all that… she knows what she likes, and knows what she wants. Right now, what she wants is this slightly-built man with the unusual accent, the long jawline under a short beard and those big brown eyes that are somehow knowing, cynical and childlike all at once.

He is very, very attractive. And she has plenty of time today.

They attract a few knowing stares on the short walk to his place, but he doesn’t care, and he knows the starers don’t either. He’s gone home with a few Pre-Mor employees before. Some of whom turn a blind eye to his activities for that very reason.

They are upon each other even before the door slides completely shut, and her kisses taste so very good. She allows him to take her all at once and greedily, perhaps sensing that once this initial hunger is sated he will be more measured and considerate of her needs too. Maybe. He can’t think that far ahead. He can barely think at all. All his blood and energy seems to divert to his groin and he feels the familiar but still so delicious burning. He doesn’t even take his clothes off, bar the coat, concentrating on her tight-fitting uniform instead, featuring belt, buttons and zipped trousers that are not hastily shed. Panting, she tries to help him but her fingers get in the way of his, bringing a few snorts of laughter from them both. So she switches to unbelting and unzipping him instead, freeing the cause of that promising bulge that she had noticed from that first sweeping visual inspection. Finally, in frustration, he yanks her trousers and her panties to her mid thighs and she allows herself to be pushed back onto the bed. He follows and is delighted to find her so ready, absolutely sopping, her body belying that slightly demure expression on her face that he has adored for the last - hour?! - since he has met her.

He cradles her face with one hand as he pushes at her and she nips at his fingers with those cute teeth as he enters her fully, trying her out for size.

She breaks off from nibbling and fixes him with a frank gaze. “So,” she says conversationally, “what should I call you?”

He has almost forgotten that they didn’t know each other’s names. And here he is, buried deep and hard inside her. It does seem a little rude. For a second, distracted as he is by his lust he considers giving her his real name. But no, that wasn’t how this worked. “Keef,” he says after a little hesitation.

She smiles, as she knows that’s not his name, but he has answered the question truthfully enough. “Lyra,” she says immediately, before he even thinks to ask. He then vaguely wonders if, like himself, she has chosen the name of a real person of some significance to her life.

He finds himself frozen for a moment, despite the nagging from his nether regions to just get on with it already!. The past, always frighteningly close in moments of emotional vulnerability, lurks just outside his consciousness. Previously, he could drink it away.

“Come on then, Keef”, she growls with sarcastic relish, emphasising the F sound somewhat derisively. “Show me if the man lives up to the notoriety. Fffffuck me, Keefff...” and she blows the imperative and the false name into his lust-anguished face with those two long puffs of fricative breath.

Already thinking ahead to the next course, which might well involve that intriguing mouth of hers, he gets to work as instructed and she matches him, effortlessly.

***

They rest eventually, after over an hour of frenzied and gloriously messy sex. He wonders anew at the human female's ability to just… keep on climaxing, but decides again that he isn’t envious: if pleasure came that easily and frequently to someone like himself he doubts he’d ever do anything else remotely productive. It’s almost too much effort to light a cigarette, but it does really help to enhance the afterglow. She hadn’t seemed to mind the taste of him. It was a high quality tabac.

Very much to his surprise, she asks him for one. “I thought you didn’t,” he says.

“I don’t,” she replies. “Except after sex.”

“And how often is that?”

“I’m not telling you about my personal life.” But she smirks at him as he holds the lighter for her and she puffs the first little drag into his face coquettishly.

She is, quite frankly and once again, adorable. He wishes she could stay longer. Despite his reputation, he really dislikes one-night stands. Or one-day stands: whatever. There’s not enough time to get to know exactly what works for each other. Not enough time for getting to know each other. Just… not enough time.

Yes, there was definitely such a thing, with his relationships, as not enough time. But there was such a thing as too much time as well, of course. Bix knew all about that. Commitment. No matter how many times they tried it again, it seemed that he was never actually willing or able to give her what she really wanted. Perhaps that was sad. They had been so good together, when it worked. She was so good to him, even now. So good for him. Still, she had her life and that idiot of a husband and her cute children - and she seemed to be happy.

Switching his thoughts to the woman here now, as there's never any point in dwelling on the past, he calculates quickly - as he is still mostly as sharp and perceptive as he ever was - that “Lyra” doesn’t actually have sex that often. Or rather, that she doesn’t have regular sex with the same person. There’s something in her manner, her hunger, her eagerness to please him and to please herself that tells him that she is unattached. He feels even more certain now that she is a true-believer Rebel, despite her accent, and that her mere presence here was exceptionally dangerous, to him and possibly to the entirety of Ferrix, commercially valued though it was. No planet was ever, really, safe.

No. Rebels didn’t do long term relationships either, and in that respect he knew she was like him. Rebels put the cause first, always. They didn’t want to risk heartbreak. He snorts a little, cynically. So he does have something in common with them after all, albeit for a completely different reason.

An unpleasant thought threatens to cross his mind then but he quickly dismisses it, distracting himself with a long pull at his cigarette. They are sitting up in bed, the blanket covering them in a surprisingly modest-looking fashion. He thinks anew how nice it is to be sharing a bed when all they are doing are relishing what has been and looking forward to what is to come.

This in-between time… could possibly be his favourite part of a sexual encounter. Well, OK - but...top-three, anyway. Time to digest. Time to contemplate. Time to savour.

They could even be a married couple, he thinks, this silence between them is so comfortable.

She breaks it then, a child with a naughty joke. “Question: do you smoke after sex? Answer: I don’t know, I’ve never looked.” And she giggles.

As is often the case with jokes involving double meanings, as this is still ultimately a foreign language for him, he doesn’t get it.

Frustrated, but amused, she attempts to explain and finally ends up with - “You know - from the friction?!”

He gets it then, but as is always the way the joke is lost by this stage so instead of laughing he quizzically raises his eyebrows and suggests that after their next bout - they should look.

She finds that hysterical, apparently, and he finds her even more adorable.

***

They don’t, literally, smoke but he feels it’s a close run thing. By mutual agreement, they take turns to cool down any possibly overheating areas with their mouths, just in case. And both agree, after a great deal of intensive research, that this process is very counter-productive.

***

They break for a meal in the mid-afternoon. He can see she’s impressed by his store cupboard, packed high with dried ingredients and flavourings from across the galaxy, some of it rare and expensive. While he fries up some leftovers from the conserver, she explores the little house. There’s another bedroom, with a small single bed, in the front and he tells her it was his childhood bedroom.

As he had known she would, she soon spots Bee on his pad. “Your droid. He doesn’t seem to be charging.”

Even now, he can’t help but feel a stab of pain at that, but he keeps his voice light. “I know. He can’t be charged anymore. Eventually, he needed a completely new battery, and they just don’t make them anymore and I couldn't find a secondhand one. I keep him… just in case I do ever find the right model.”

“But his files will be corrupted by then. Have you transferred his memory? You could at least talk with him. Put him in another droid chassis, even.”

“I haven’t.” He concentrates on frying, stirring the vegetables and now adding the beaten fiejuc eggs. He has also just added Durmic spice so knows he can blame that for any dampness in his eyes that might come with his next words. “I made the choice not to. When my mother died, he was inconsolable. He couldn’t understand what death was. I could have had his memory wiped then, I suppose, but … he wouldn’t have been him anymore. His name was Bee. Is. I just … keep him there, in case…”

She has appeared at his side and he realises that while the Durmic might explain his wet eyes it doesn’t disguise the catch in his voice. He glances sideways at her, smiles slightly and sheepishly. He feels her arm around his waist then and her hug is one of comfort rather than desire, and it feels just as good somehow.

And he realises then that this is what he has really missed.

After this moment, and after the shared meal, things are different between them. Different in a good way. He realises later that they had moved forward with the liaison to the same stage that would normally take a week or so in his other casual relationships. There is a tenderness between them now. They talk. On light subjects, but they find common interests. It’s like a kind of cautious dance around the perimeters of each other.

And it’s all so good, and sweet, and delicious and somehow… medicinal. And hot.

It ends, as they had known it must. She needs to take the shuttle ferry out to the commercial port for her evening flight back to - wherever it was.

He wonders, as he watches her retreating form in the fading daylight, if he should call out after her, or tell her his real name. He decides not to. Perhaps she would decide to come again. If she lived that long. He feels a sudden and genuine chill that she will not.

He feels the pain anew then, and something of the old anger. The Empire. They had taken so much. Lives, chances, time.

He even wonders if he should join the Rebels, even at this stage. Belong, in some way, have a purpose, even if it is a short lived one.

Maybe one day. Then again, perhaps not. It is surely better to … live. To eat, to sleep. To do what you want.

He watches her until her retreating figure fades into the failing light.

Steelpeckers are nocturnal. Their dawn comes with the setting of the sun. Day shift; night shift. A flock of five fly over now, low, squawking raucously. Perhaps the same five from that morning - it is impossible to tell. The chimes for End of Day join their chorus as he stands there still, framed in the open doorway, looking, but with nothing to see.

From chapter 2.

[gayleviticus]

I think the reason why stuff like FF 13 not having towns, ff16 not having (much of?) a party, or ff15 not having... women (lol) grates on final fantasy fans is less because these are things seen as essential to a jrpg, and more that final fantasy, as the flagstone jrpg series, feels like even when it's experimental it should always maintain a certain level of breadth. it's not supposed to go too narrow; the joy of it is how it brings together a variety of elements into a whole, not that it is judiciously minimalist in what it picks and chooses.

I think star wars is kind of the blockbuster science fantasy film equivalent. star wars gets its strength from the variety; space king fu wizards, world war 2 fighter pilot space battles, sword duels, gunfights, the vast variety of planets and creatures, even senate politics.

you can do star wars spin-offs that narrow in on only one of these elements (as andor did to much acclaim) but if a mainline, numbered Star Wars movie came out and it was only interested in space battles over one specific planet I yhink people would inevitably feel cheated. (and I suspect, altho they don't articulate it very well and also often mix it in w racism, this is part of the TLJ backlash bc it does have the 'narrowest' most claustrophobic approach to star wars yet).

people expect both Star Wars and Final Fantasy to be a bit maximalist and broad. and so even if ff13 being linear and townless is a very valid artistic choice, I think it cuts against what people implicitly expect from final fantasy, whose strength isn't in careful, restrained worldbuilding/storytelling

[syndianites]

I really like the way you write Alyssa! I’m curious on your interpretation on her as a whole?

So I've always been annoyed that she was a child compared to the rest of the alts, but I did like the fact that they gave Mot and Alyssa a relationship because in the og TR Tom and Sonja are the farthest apart, especially irl.

When it comes to Alyssa, I tend to give her a more independent, free-spirited vibe. Sure, she's a child (I normally put her around -14-16) but she also had to witness her home burn down and survive alone. I think in canon Mot picked her up almost right away, but I like to headcanon that she had to survive alone for a while and became hyper-independent because she was one of the few survivors and was already from a low-income family (the family part we don't get much information about, but I always wanted her to have come from a loving family).

For how old she was when the fire happened I'm kinda wishy-washy on because S2 canon tends to trip over itself when attempting to establish a timeline, but I generally put her around 6-8, so that she had enough time to remember her family but also be able to survive alone.

In terms of personality, she is very resourceful and self-taught in most things. Contrary to canon, I actually have Alyssa be more wary of the gods- Dianite included- because I imagine her town being less god-aligned than the others and also, being a child, Alyssa would have blamed the gods for not saving her town and family. She warms up to Dianite, of course, because through Mot she learns that the gods aren't as all-powerful as they are made out to be, but she's not the biggest fan of Ianite and definitely not a fan of Mianite after meeting Andor and Anya (who I personally love to have her be besties with).

I also imagine that she gets VERY clingly once she's warmed up to you. She lost basically everything in the fire, with only a few of her townmates surviving (I think in canon she is the only survivor, but I want her to have a heritage she can come back to and keep alive). So once she gets over the "Who the fuck is this Mot guy and where is he taking me" and the "This guy thinks I'll trust him just because he feeds me?" she ends up getting very attached to the point where people assume Mot adopted her (before he actually does).

Mot helps he re-learn to let others help her, and she helps him learn that others aren't always going to take from him without giving back.

From surviving on her own for so long, she has a great fondness for the wilderness, the woods especially, and is very outdoorsy as a result. She also tends to be adventurous and reckless, except when it comes to fire. For a long time she had a deep-seated fear of fire and even though she's gotten a better grip on it now that fear was one reason she had a hard time connecting with Dianite.

She portays herself as bold and brave, but she is always wary and nervous around new people, partly afraid to get attached and partly afraid they'll take her loved ones from her. I imagine that if she met TR she'd be very untrusting of them, Tom especially, and take a long, long time to open up to them. Ironically, I think she would take to Tom first, because Tom is a very open book and predictable, but also because he can relate, as a zombie, to losing all his loved ones and his home (which ties back into my personal backstory for Tom). Sonja would be the next she gets close to, because Sonja is gentle but also fun and silly and doesn't treat Alyssa like a child. Tucker she'd warm up to over time through Tom and Sonja and his general goofiness, but she'd take the longest with Jordan, because she initially sees him as having ulterior motives in everything he does and just wanting powerful gear and good gadgets (which is ironic since Tom acts the same, but she sees that Tom has a line when it comes to friends that she doesn't think Jordan does).

I think in canon she was taught how to use a bow by Ianite? But I generally imagine her being more of a cross bow/lance user, crossbow because when you're flying trying to keep the bow drawn can be difficult while also trying to keep your wings in check whereas a cross bow you just have to load and aim, and lance because its good for dive-bombing attacks and what she would have crudely made after the fire for hunting. The reach also helped keep the more dangerous creatures farther from her and give her a better chance to escape.

I feel like this mostly turned into a headcanon ramble, but in brief, I generally have Alyssa as outwardly bold and reckless and adventurous, while internally being very paranoid about the intentions of those around her and having a deep seated fear of fire and losing the few people she allows herself to care about. This all creates a genera show of Alyssa acting outgoing while also being very careful and feeling like she needs to be able to do everything and anything alone, even when help is available. She also generally doesn't trust the gods as /gods/ but she does end up trusting Dianite as family and Ianite to a degree.

Thanks for the ask! I have so many thoughts about all the characters

[coolcattime]

If you’ll allow me to talk about Lady Ianite because she is such a mystery. Something that interests me so much is that she has the ability to not care. When everyone was bombarding her with information and she heard about Furia’s plan, her response was literally “that’s not my problem”. She just did not care about her brother’s fate, which considering what he put her through it’s completely fair, but still that’s crazy to me.

Also, her making it day for Capsize and gifting Jordan a forest is also crazy, because she’s actively manipulating the overworld with seemingly no consequences. That either shows a strong connection between her and Mianite, or with Mianites lack of a presence, she’s become more comfortable overseeing his realm.

I think that Furia, Declan, and Capsize all have the same position in the like follower hierarchy. Guardian, Priest, and Messenger (or whatever it would be for capsize) all share an amount of power with their respective gods and are close to said god (to some extent).

On a side note, I personally, don’t take Capsize and Martha to be alts. Mostly because I don’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt to where Spark’s feelings are for Capsize. Like, I interpret that he treats her like an equal and with respect (as he does for everyone else), for no other reason than that’s just who he is and acts. I think otherwise it could be interpreted as him acting like Mot when it comes to Sonja, and I don’t think that works for his character. )And Martha definitely would’ve used the fact that they were alts as a manipulation tactic.) Like, the fact that out of everything Spark could’ve built for his lady, he chose a town says so much about him. A place where people can go to feel safe and seen with other iantees.

(Thank you for listening to me rambling)

Yes yes yes! Talk about Ianite as much as you want because she's so interesting!! And I very much agree with exerting you've put.

Her capacity but to care is so fun to look at because she clearly can care. She isn't an unfeeling deity as she clearly cares a lot for her followers, but she just doesn't care for her brother any more. Which, obviously, she has incredibly good reason for, as alongside all he's done to her, Capsize has also been killed by this point. Honestly her just saying "Not my problem" is pretty generous, even if she really shouldn't want Furia of all people to steal Dianite's power.

Her being able to manipulate the Overworld is so interesting, and I really like the idea that it's in part due to Mianite's lack of oversight. Obviously there probably is something to her and Mianite having quite a trusted connection, given how he does deliver a couple of messages for her throughout (telling Jordan that she exists, announcing that the pirates will be coming, actually getting Jordan to the realm in the first place if the animations are canon), but the idea of her being able to oversee her brothers' realms in their absences is so interesting. And I think it works as a form of her balancing, like trying to take over and make up for the absence.

Furia, Dec, and Capsize being in the same place in the hierarchy feels right. I can't say where exactly on the hierarchy they actually sit, since they felt both more and less important than the Champions, but they definitely feel like they hold a similar role for each of their gods.

Oh I fully agree that Martha|Capsize aren't my favourite as alts. I think (without disregarding the actual Canon alts) I much prefer Capsize|Andor and Redbeard|Martha but that's a longer discussion that is not currently the point. I really really agree that I want Spark to care about Capsize without any possible "She just reminds you of a family member" thoughts. Like I much prefer exploring Spark and Capsize's relationship with how it reflects and is different to Jordan and Capsize's and that only really works if Spark respects her on her own merits and because that is how you should treat people.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 39: Weaving of the Web

Something something spoilers.

Something something the entirety of The Wheel of Time, not just book one.

Something something block tags.

Something something read the books.

Something something chapt--

No wait this part I want to put effort into. This chapter's icon is the Lion of Andor once again, because we're still in Caemlyn and Rand is about to be diving skull-first into the lion's den.

Mat glowered from where he lay curled up in a ball on his bed. “Take that Trolloc you’re so friendly with.”

STFU book 1 Mat. Rand, if he needs a bath so damn bad, throw a full bucket at him for comments like this. Throw several buckets at him, then blind him with more lightning. All must love Loial or else.

Herbalists and hedge-doctors were lying low in Caemlyn right now; there was talk against anyone who did any kind of healing, or fortunetelling. Every night the Dragon’s Fang was scrawled on doors with a free hand, sometimes even in the daylight, and people might forget who had cured their fevers and poulticed their toothaches when the cry of Darkfriend went up.

It's impressive that Mat is literally being corrupted by a source of evil that is some equal yet opposite to the source of all other evil and yet he still isn't the most paranoid asshole in the city. The Whitecloaks are stirring this up of course, proof that they as a faction completely suck, but between the winter and the False Dragon it didn't take much.

“Don’t know his name. Just heard about him. I hear most things in Caemlyn, eventually. Beggar.” The innkeeper grunted.

Oh right, Fain's in town. Still, Mat's not even the SECOND-most paranoid asshole in town. Really, Caemlyn is all kinds of fucked: the dagger and Fain within, "strange shapes" outside the city, the Whitecloaks flowing in and out... This city takes beating after beating in these books. There's a noose tightening around Rand and he's barely paying it any attention.

“Watch your back today, man.” Lamgwin’s voice sounded like gravel in a pan. “When the trouble starts, you’ll be a handy one to have here, not somewhere with a knife in your back.”

I suspect that Rand had to have the accident he's about to have to keep his dumb ass from ta'verening the riot into some sort of coup. All the crazy accidents he causes most of the time would really be the last straw.

Today, Caemlyn celebrated a victory of the Light over the Shadow. Today the false Dragon was being brought into the city, to be displayed before the Queen before he was taken north to Tar Valon.

I feel like there's something here, with this false Dragon and soon-to-be former Queen (and soon-to-be false Amyrlin) being the thing that everyone has their eyes on while the real Dragon meets with the future Queen and the real Amyrlin (either Siuan or Egwene works) is miles away. Elaida's Foretelling in particular seems like an echo of the one Siuan received long ago. I just can't quite string all the parallels together.

No one would have dared do such a thing two days earlier. More, Rand realized, the men who had done the bumping wore white cockades on their hats. It was widely believed the Whitecloaks supported those who opposed the Queen and her Aes Sedai advisor, but that made no difference. Men were doing things of which they had never before thought. Jostling a Whitecloak, today. Tomorrow, perhaps pulling down a Queen?

It's never said so, but I feel very much that this is some of Rand's ta'veren, the way that these dudes who should feel like they're on the same side are all sniping at each other.

Where streets in the New City mostly ran every which way in a crazy-quilt, here they followed the curves of the hills as if they were a natural part of the earth. Sweeping rises and dips presented new and surprising vistas at every turn. Parks seen from different angles, even from above, where their walks and monuments made patterns pleasing to the eye though barely touched with green. Towers suddenly revealed, tile-covered walls glittering in the sunlight with a hundred changing colors. Sudden rises where the gaze was thrown out across the entire city to the rolling plains and forests beyond.

Frankly something about this construction sounds almost impossible. Too many angles, too many heights. It feels like navigating a city designed by M. C. Escher. Wish I could live in Caemlyn!

The ragged man paused on the far edge of the street. His cowl, torn and stiff with dirt, swung back and forth as if searching for something, or listening. Abruptly he gave a wordless cry and flung out a dirty claw of a hand, pointing straight at Rand. Immediately he began to scuttle across the street like a bug.

One of the reasons I never much liked Jordan's statements that Fain was unique and had "side-stepped the Pattern" is moments like these, where his presence in Rand's life seems like a necessary ingredient to victory. If Fain hadn't scared Rand so much here, he wouldn't have ended up at the palace. Sure, some other coincidence might have happened (and he hasn't been Winded yet, so you could argue that he's still mostly on track here), but every major Fain moment in the series seems as intricately necessary as other major events that don't involve him instead of anything feeling off-script. I'll talk about this more as we go forward.

The beggar would not give up; he was sure of it, though he could not say why. That ragged shape would be working its way through the crowds at that very minute, searching, and if Rand returned to see Logain he ran the risk of a meeting.

I think Rand's certainty here is him twigging off of the alterations Fain's had that make him more Shadowspawn that the average Darkfriend.

The face of the wall had been left much in the natural state of the stone, the huge blocks fitted together so well that the joins were nearly invisible, the roughness making it seem almost a natural cliff. Rand grinned. The cliffs just beyond the Sand Hills were higher, and even Perrin had climbed those.

Ladies, gentlemen, those who transcend the petty binaries of mortals, meet the shittiest construction in the entirety of the Third Age. A wall whose only purpose is to allow one idiot farmboy after another climb the wall like they're lemmings with a power-up. It's a miracle Perrin never actually ends up doing it, since Jordan establishes right here that even he could. Why did they build this wall? How many people have taken advantage of it at one point or another? Can I blame Thom in some way to make sense of this absurdist bit of architecture? Yes that seems best. It's Thom's personal "fuck the queen while Damodred's at the front gate" wall. Maybe other sneaky lovers have used it over the years.

His clothes seemed ordinary, a cloak and coat and breeches that would not have caused comment in any farming village. But the way he wore them. The way he held himself. Logain was a king in every inch of him. The cage might as well not have been there. He held himself erect, head high, and looked over the crowd as if they had come to do him honor. And wherever his gaze swept, there the people fell silent, staring back in awe. When Logain’s eyes left them, they screamed with redoubled fury as if to make up for their silence, but it made no difference in the way the man stood, or in the silence that passed along with him. As the wagon rolled through the Palace gates, he turned to look back at the assembled masses. They howled at him, beyond words, a wave of sheer animal hate and fear, and Logain threw back his head and laughed as the Palace swallowed him.

Logain's being so clearly important despite being captured is nice foreshadowing for the way he'll sidestep the fate the Tower has planned for him. It also explains why so many people were willing to follow him, if he had such an air before capture.

Though it's not clear yet, Logain is laughing because he has the Talent to see ta'veren and Rand is so much ta'veren that he can see him from this distance. I'd always assumed this Talent is what Logain's controversial TV show line was referring to, Nynaeve being ta'veren in that canon and standing much closer to him, but maybe I'm crazy. It's been awhile since I saw season 1.

I have gotten my Fire Cube working again though, so maybe I should finish my rewatch to refresh myself? Eh. I'll probably just read butterflydm's a few dozen times and call it good and pretend that rewatching Bojack six times in as many weeks is healthy instead.

“Why were the Aes Sedai watching him?” he wondered aloud. “They’re keeping him from touching the True Source, silly.” He jerked to look up, toward the girl’s voice, and suddenly his precarious seat was gone.

Aww, Rand and Elayne have a meet cute. Rand nearly getting himself killed and barely dodging a concussion is a way better start to their romance than Min's creepy routine.

Sadly, Rand being knocked unconscious means we're done with this chapter and there was absolutely no Loial in it. It's an absolute travesty and I don't think Jordan's fixing that in the next chapter either. But we'll find out tomorrow!

[the-epic-magnus]

Another updated introduction

A very warm "Hallo!" from Germany!

Call me Magnus, lvl 30+ senior nerd and fanboy from a town called Erfurt, seated in the german county of Thuringia.

I'm in fandoms since 1997; Star Wars was my first love and it will be my last. :'D

I'm not an artist or writer; I don't create much content (besides my TF2 cosplay blog, link in bio), but I like a good conversation and interacting with other fans the normal or the feels way. x) I love meeting new people for fanboying/girling. xD I reblog a lot and I enjoy your creations, especially fanfics, headcanons or fanart.

btw: Star Wars cosplays are planned for the end of 2023 and 2024!

My current main hype: STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH (huge Tech simp with another small obsession to Echo qq)

More fandoms wich catch my whole attention:

+ Star Wars in general (Andor & RO, Mando & Book of Boba Fett, OT and PT, TCW)

+ Team Fortress 2 (check out my already named cosplay blog)

+ Star Trek (old series and movies until Kelvin timeline)

+ Mad Max (Ride eternal, shiny and chrome)

+ Firefly (more shiny!)

+ Futurama (waiting for new episodes so badly)

+ Transformers (G1, Armada, Animated, Prime, Movie '07, IDW)

+ Pacific Rim (but Part 2 sucks imho)

+ Brave Poilce J-Decker (so smol and nearly dead, the fandom ;_;)

+ Guardians of the Galaxy

I'm also a musician and I play piano and organ.

My favorite music genres: Metal, Epic Cinematic/Filmmusic and Hardstyle

You can find me on Twitter and Instagram, too. LInks in bio.

I'm looking forward for new people for simping, talking, laughing and crying about our favorite characters and fandoms. I live in constant denial, currently now. x)

Don't mind my bad english skills, it's not my native language. ^^;

Cheers and have a great day! ~Magnus~

[butterflydm]

wot reread: the fires of heaven (chap 47-chap 49)

spoilers through the fires of heaven

1. Nynaeve and Elayne are really starting to work each other’s last nerve, trapped in the wagon together except for performances (for safety’s sake). Anyway, through their (irritated) snipes at each other, they realize that actual!Egwene was sending them a message about actual!Rand winning a victory in actual!Cairhien. She told them about it potentially being Sammael as well. This is what I mean about the frustrating information diet that Rand is placed on. No one has any issue telling their affiliated people all of Rand’s business but all Rand gets back in return is a stonewall of “It is Aes Sedai business”. If I were Rand, I would be just as frustrated as he is about it! And I’m not mad that Elayne and Nynaeve are getting important information! They need to know these things. I’m mad that Rand isn’t! Because he also would find it helpful to know what Elayne and Nynaeve are up to.

2. Egwene was also telling them not to tell anyone (because she’s been dreamtalking without permission and she knows she will get in Deep Trouble if she’s found out by the Wise Ones) which makes Nynaeve worry that she’s being hunted by Moghedien.

3. Even after Egwene traumatized her the way that she did, Nynaeve still immediately wants to help her when she worries that Egwene might be in danger.

4. Ah, and there’s a riot in Samara because both Masema’s people and Galad’s people are trying to secure the same ship for Nynaeve & her pals. So... yeah, awkward. And now Masema’s forgotten about the ship and is focused on taking over the city? Country? Not certain which. Whatever he can get, probably.

5. Huh, I’d forgotten that Birgitte didn’t know (and doesn’t believe) that Elayne is the Daughter-Heir of Andor. I actually do really like this scene with Elayne, Cerandin, and Birgitte. Elayne’s frustration at how her teaching Cerandin to stand up for herself is backfiring now that Cerandin is standing up to her is effective/hilarious and Birgitte saying that she’ll be Elayne’s Warder when she’s actually in real trouble and not just getting herself into trouble by being pushy at someone is also good stuff. Birgitte and Elayne have a good dynamic overall.

6. The fight to the ship is fairly cinematic and quite sad, but I don’t have much to say about it. We don’t really learn anything new, though what we know about Galad gets reiterated. He does warn them against associating with Rand al’Thor which, you know. Town is on fire half because of Mister Dragon Prophet, so I get where he’s coming from there. Nynaeve does insist on a whole bunch of refugees coming with them, though. Very Nynaeve of her. Good heart. Also, Mat would do the same thing and be equally as embarrassed about admitting to his good heart.

7. lol, when Elayne points out that their captain is a smuggler, Nynaeve objects because the ship looks like a piece of shit to her. Ooh, Nynaeve thinking such true thoughts: “[Elayne] always did think obeying the law was important, however fool the law was. She shared more with Galad than she would be willing to admit.” I said the same thing a few parts back, I think.

8. tbh, after finding out that the captain is from Ebou Dar, it is no longer a shock to me that he dislikes women. That’s such a toxic city when it comes to gender relations. He doesn’t even want to talk to women, yeah, he’s probably worried that one might pull a knife on him at any moment! But spending time around a man who hates women helps Nynaeve, Elayne, and Birgitte get over their bad moods with each other. (lol and apparently there is no easier way to get me to sympathize with an asshole man than make him from Ebou Dar)

9. Elayne channels to hurry the ship along the river (she learned so much from her Windfinder friend!) and Nynaeve heals their soldiers and the passengers (discreetly as possible) and Elayne also continues to study the a’dam to figure out how it works.

10. The refugees that Nynaeve notes out by name: Nicola (wants to find a place where there’s no killing), Marigan (two kids who are scared of everyone; odd ideas about herbs), and Areina (former Hunter of the Horn). Nynaeve feels a sense of kinship with each of the three. Also, Areina wears trousers! So we now have four trousers-wearing women in the series: Min, Birgitte, Areina, and Elayne (when she’s tightrope-walking).

12. lol, Nynaeve is very much like Mat here as well, thinking that her good example would do Areina a world of good (or, rather, Mat will be like Nynaeve when we get there) in holding her tongue and not losing her temper. Anyway, things get better between Birgitte and Elayne once Nynaeve makes an off-hand reference to Elayne’s mother’s palace and Birgitte realizes that Elayne was telling the truth about being heir to a queen. Birgitte also starts going by her own name again.

13. The herbal-based hair dyes (and hair dye removals) in the WoTverse are a MIRACULOUS WONDER. Truly astonishing tbh a greater miracle than most of the feats of the One Power. And Nynaeve’s three named refugee women (plus Marigan’s kids) want to stay with the group because they feel safe around Nynaeve.

14. Nynaeve goes to TAR to try to see if Egwene is there in the Heart of the Stone, and confesses to Elayne and Birgitte afterwards that she’s tired of being a coward. They, of course, actually find her astonishingly and even recklessly brave. Nynaeve and Elayne go back into TAR together and go on a quick tour of All The Places: Tear, the Royal Palace in Caemlyn, Emond’s Field (where there is an enormous house being built. I see; there is also what sounds like a memorial plinth for the people who died in the fighting, though Nynaeve doesn’t know that’s what it is), Elaida’s study in the White Tower for news. Elaida has taken down the paintings that she placed to remind her of the price of failure (Bonwhin) which is a bad sign for her state of mind.

Elaida knows that Rand is now in Cairhien with a bunch of Aiel. Davram Bashere has disappeared with Saldaea’s army; Saldaea and Shienar are both sending letters to refusal to allow to Elaida to interfere in their affairs. And Elaida is Big Mad about a lot of things. She knows that the Aes Sedai are gathering in Salidar and has sent demands to them to return to the Tower. And Elayne and Nynaeve teach themselves and each other a great deal about navigating in TAR!

15. And now they finally meet with Egwene and Amys for their meeting. Egwene quickly tells them again everything she said in their dreams, so that her deception won’t be known to Amys, and the new information not previously shared that Mat was the one who killed Couladin. Elayne asks after Rand and is told that he is driving himself too hard and only listens to Moiraine (which upsets the Wise Ones). And Egwene says that Aviendha is with him all the time, taking ‘good care’ of him for Elayne. Egwene never did pick up on the sexual tension there.

16. Rand practices the sword with Lan for two hours each day, then two hours practicing hand-to-hand fighting with the Aiel. That one Nynaeve mostly understands -- she understands how helpless it can be not to be able to channel when you need to, though she’s not sure when Rand will ever be that helpless. Oh! And this is where we find out about the school that Rand founded. Off-screen! A school for scholars and craftsmen. Egwene asked Moiraine about it, and Moiraine said Rand wants to leave something behind.

17. Rand sends the spears south towards Tear and has not explained to anyone why. Elayne points out that “the best way to keep a secret is to tell no one” which gets her a hard stare from Amys. Once again, Elayne Just Gets It when it comes to Rand. Whenever they aren’t doing their plot-mandated Women And Men Just Can’t Understand Each Other dance, she understands him and the pressures he’s under so well!

18. Amys asks if they’re sure that these Aes Sedai in Salidar will support Rand, and Elayne and Nynaeve’s answer does not inspire confidence in me personally. Wow! Egwene actually plans to tell Rand about Masema and Salidar. It’s a miracle!

19. Egwene scolds them in private about nearly telling Amys about her speaking to them in dreams and Nynaeve immediately loses her grasp on saidar and wakes up. Egwene is lucky she doesn’t really follow ji’e’toh because she is working up so much toh against Nynaeve that she should just straight up faint from shame at this point.

20. Nynaeve is expecting them to get a grand reception in Salidar, while Elayne beginning to be nervous about the idea of going there.

[weasleywinchester]

It’s A Low Number

Cassian Andor x Reader

Welcome to the first fic I’ve ever written for one Cassian Andor. Rogue One is one of my top favorite Star Wars movies and Cassian was immediately crowned as another Space Husband. 

Warnings: Blood, shooting Imperial Officers and Stormtroopers, female masturbation, K-2SO’s legendary sass

Summary:

You never expected to be any kind of medic, let alone one for the resistance. You had once tried to tell a crewmember you weren’t a medic (more of a simple first aid person) when he shoved you onto a mission with Captain Cassian Andor, and then you managed to save the captain’s life. And now you’ve been put on every mission Cassian has ever put together, which made you, Cassian and K2 very happy. K2 loves to make you squirm about your little crush on Cassian, but you had no clue about Cassian’s true feeling towards you. All you both needed were simple calculations.

The ship rattles as it speeds away from the failed mission, various alarms warning that something is about to go wrong or the ship needs fuel. No one has said a word since you boarded, not even K2. Thankfully the same amount of people you left with are also coming back; but the resistance is no closer to winning the war. 

Captain Andor had managed to connect with someone who has information, and who needs protection in return. Unfortunately when you all had gotten there the imperial troops were crawling all over the city; leaving you no choice but to run.

The ship gives one last jolt before touching down in paddock 5. No one moves at first, you all brace for (another) tongue lashing from Captain Andor. But he remains seated, only nodding his head to the crew. Everyone shuffles about, gathering their things, noting what needs to be repaired and heading back to their rooms.

“Everyone get some rest, and be ready.” Captain Andor shouts as everyone hops out of the ship.

You quietly shuffle about, making a list of any supplies you need to replace as well as if any equipment indicators that are flashing red. K2 runs diagnostics from the port next to you, still surprisingly not saying anything. You take a look at where the med kit is stashed, it’s a wreck since you had to patch up your crewmates arm. You sigh and dump everything out onto the seat, you pick out everything covered in blood, tossing it into the trash bin. You sneak a glance at Cassian… Cassian, you wish you could call him that. You did, accidentally, once; he assigned you to clean the ship for an entire month! Although after that, he started using your first name whenever he was talking to you. Threw a few people off guard since he was so strict with everyone else.

You refocus your eyes from the memory and see he’s currently taken his puffy jacket off, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his head is completely inside one of the side panels of the ship. He reaches around to grab a tool from the box on the seat, his hands already covered in grease.

“The probability of him discovering you staring at him is about 80%.” K2 mentions. You side him, only to hear Cassian bump his head and curse. You both turn to him, waiting to see if he’ll stop working, but he continues.

“What’s the probability he’d sleep with me?” You sarcastically whisper. You let yourself focus on the movement of his arms. His forearms are flexed, his hands steadily working on whatever is broken in the panel.

“It’s a low number.” K2 loudly whispers next to my head. You go sass him back when what he said actually registers. He was NOT supposed to hear that! Let alone calculate it!

“K2. I swear. IF you say ANYTHING to anyone I will rip your circuit board out.” You growl, poking a finger into his chest.

“K2 I’ll be back, have to grab a part.” Cassian says as he walks out the door, giving you a small nod.

“By my calculations you have a high chance of being sexually frustrated. Is that why you’ve decided to fixate on Cassian?”

“K...”

“If you look for a partner at a lower rank your chances of not being sexually frustrated go down significantly. Although you don’t like lowering your standards of washing detergent, so why would men be any different.” 

You turn to look at K. He may not have eyebrows but if he did they would be raised, begging you to challenge his analysis. You move your jaw, trying not to punch him in the face; which you did once, it was not a good recovery process for your hand or your ego. You finally let out a sigh and turn back to the med kit.

“K, I’m fine. But every once in a while a girl just wants a really hot guy to screw her really good. It’s not like a lot of us have a big future ahead.” You shove all the med kit contents back into the bag and briskly walk out of the ship. 

_______

The next few hours continue as normal; you refill the med kit, grab some dinner and finally get to take a hot shower. You let the water run over you, relaxing every muscle and taking the feeling of failure down the drain with it.

You replay the mission in your head, having to comb over every detail. The morning you left, Cassian had come to get you himself. He had said he finally made contact with someone and that he was assembling a crew to leave before first light. When you got to the ship you recognized some familiar faces, most of whom Cassian worked with often.

“Good to see the Captain finally picked a medic he trusts.” One of the crewmembers commented, patting your shoulder as he pulled himself into the ship. 

“(Y/N), ready?” Cassian asked, raising his eyebrows at you in that super adorable way he does. You lost any ability to talk so you simply nodded. The journey to the meet up was fast, Cassian and a few of the soldiers coming up with a plan for how each member of the team would move. 

“(Y/N), You’re with me.” Cassian comments, continuing to study the map of the city. 

“Captain?” You frown, sharing a look with the guy who talked to you earlier. 

“In this part of town,” He points to what looks like a marketplace, “it looks suspicious to be traveling alone. Since you’re the most inexperienced out in the field, you’ll stick with me. Everyone will pair off and take the following routes” He points at a few sections of the map.

“And let me guess, I stay with the ship.” K2 sighs. Cassian nods and continues to work out as much of the plan as possible. You feel the nerves work their way up your spine; you have to get out of the ship and into the line of fire. You sit on your hands, trying not to squirm too much. You’ll be with Cassian, it’ll be fine.

You jump a little as the ship touches down. Cassian lets the others jump out ahead of both of you. 

“Take this, It’s set to stun.” He whispers, placing a small blaster in your hand. He hops out of the ship and you holster the gun.

“Try not to die, I don’t hate you.” K2 whirs from the pilot seat. You roll your eyes a jump from the ship, jogging to catch up to Cassian. He leads you through the city at a leisurely pace, his gaze steadily moving around the area. You pass a few imperial robots, no sorry, soldiers. And then you start to see more the closer you move to the meeting place. 

“Captain...” You whisper, he looks at you following your gaze. Stormtroopers, and a lot of them. He grabs your hand and changes your route to intersect with the others. You happen upon a pair of your crewmates and then Cassian shoves you into an alcove as he runs for them. He tackles both out of the way of oncoming fire. You wrestle your way out of some wooden crates as the shooting gets heavy. You see one of the guys has been shot in the arm and the other has taken off to find the others.

And you run... towards Cassian.

You run until you stand back to back with him, gun out and ready.

“(Y/N) get him out of here!” Cassian demands, blasting two troopers.

“Only if you’re coming with me.” You shout, blasting an officer that comes around the corner. Cassian grunts and turns to help you move your crewmate. You manage to get him into the alley when more troopers start firing at you.

“We have to buy some time.” You look down the alley, seeing the rest of your crew running towards you. You point your blaster up, taking it off stun. Cassian nods and the two of you walk back out, dodging blasts and fighting back. A few manage to get close enough for you to fight hand to hand, easily kicking their asses with your karate skills.

Cassian peels you off the stormtrooper and takes you by the hand, running back to the ship. Thankfully everyone else made it back and K2 takes off as soon as you hit the floor of the ship. You immediately start tending to everyone’s injuries, the one who got shot already has blood everywhere. You manage to get every patched up to survive the journey home.

You sit in your seat, strapping yourself in so that if you fall asleep you don’t tip out onto the bloody floor. You look over at Cassian in the copilot seat, he has the faraway look he always gets when you’re coming back from a mission... 

You realize you’ve been in the shower so long it’s gone lukewarm. You quickly get out and get dressed. And then you remember your conversation with K2. Damn him! He said your chances with Cassian were low... but not zero, those odds aren’t the worst. But you would have no clue how to get from where you stand with Cassian to being in his bed.

His bed. It probably smells like laundry detergent, you can’t imagine him spending any time in it; not with the war going on. Although you have heard rumors about him going back to a few different women’s rooms. And for a brief moment, you wish he would come to yours. Your mind begins running wild with things he would do to you, and you would do to him. You lay down on your bed, letting your hands trail over your body. You peel your clothes off, your fingers eagerly moving to your throbbing clit. You imagine they’re Cassian’s skilled fingers, gently toying with you, making the right patterns and using the perfect amount of pressure to make you

“Cassian...” you whisper to the four walls of your room as the warmth of your orgasm spreads leisurely through your body. You sigh, any tension you had left is quickly being replaced by exhaustion. 

Knocking? Is there actually someone knocking at my door? You open your eyes to look at the ceiling. It comes again, so you quickly pull your clothes back on, take a few steps across your tiny apartment and swing the door open. 

“Y/N.” Cassian says. You feel your  jaw moving up and down but no sound seems to be coming out. “May I come in?” He raises his eyebrows the smallest fraction. 

“Yes of course, Cass- Captain.” He moves the corners of his mouth just enough to make a smile.

“Using my name recently?” He gives you a sly smile. You mash my lips together and cross your arms, if he only knew. He steps toward you, his fingers lightly grazing the thin fabric around your hips. “Were you cursing my name?” he presses his palms to your hips, the heat shooting through you like lightning. “Or moaning it?”  His lips lightly graze your ear, the fan of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You close my eyes and mash your lips again. Fantasies really do… come...

Oh.

No.

No no no nonono! 

“Mi Amor?” Cassian gently whispers, stepping back to look at you, brushing your hair away from your neck. He looks concerned... not like when you’re on a mission; like the only thing that matters is how you feel.

“What did K2 say?” You whisper back, laying your hands on his chest.

“Something about calculations and you and me.” He lets out a small laugh. You push a little on his chest to give yourself room to breath. After a few seconds you look up at him. 

“Are you doing this because of what he said?” 

“Yes.” And with that you can hear your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Of course, now you’re easy so why would he not seize the opportunity? “Mi amor, I want to be with you.” He tilts your chin up so he can look at you, “What K2 said gave me the push I needed to go after you.” 

“You’re not here just for...” 

“I’m here for the possibility of us.” 

[redrikki]

May The Fourth Masterpost

Prequels/Clone Wars Era

May the Force Get With You- You’d think Anakin Skywalker’s conception would be pretty epic, mythic even, but you’d be wrong. Turns out, the Force is a lousy lay and a worse father. (Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, The Force, Salty Narrator)

Second Wind - Ahsoka takes the wrong exit of the the world between worlds and ends up with a second chance at saving her master. (Ahsoka Tano, Shmi Skywalker)

Pain Management - Anger can get a slave killed. Shmi teaches her son some coping strategies. (Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, Watto)

The Force Is In the Details - The chance cube lands on red and now Shmi must learn to manage with a freedom she never asked for. Written as part of the Jedi Fest Rogue Robin challenge as a continuation of The Force is in the Details. (Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, Padme Amidala, Jedi Council)

The Anchor That You Can’t Leave Behind - On the queen’s yacht headed back to Naboo, Anakin and Padmé miss their mothers but Obi-Wan can’t get why. (Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Another Word For Nothing Left to Lose - When Obi-Wan told him he was free at Qui-Gon’s funeral, Anakin took him at his word. There may, however, have been something of misunderstanding. (Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi)

For Amidala - Her handmaidens had all poured so much of themselves into Amidala, it was like they were part of her now. Padmé didn’t know if she had the strength to let one go. (Padme Amidala, Sabe, handmaidens)

Wordspring - Anakin’s words dry up in the middle of his fourth month at the Temple. If Obi-Wan can’t get them flowing again, maybe someone else will. (Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sheev Palpatine, various Jedi)

Nothing to Write Home About - A month after losing his wife, Cliegg Lars decides to write to her son. Anakin Skywalker gets the pen pal he never knew he needed. WIP. (Anakin Skywalker, Cliegg Lars, Owen Lars, Beru Lars, Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala)

For the Greater Good - Count Dooku has never seen the appeal of Anakin Skywalker, but, when the Chosen One breaks with the Council over the treatment of the clones, he decides acquiring the boy’s allegiances might be worthwhile after all. WIP co-written with @grand-duc and @thendstartsnow (Count Dooku, Anakin Skywalker, Palpatine, Clone Troopers)

Once More With Feeling - A redeemed Anakin travels back in time post-RotJ and decides to unfuck the timeline with mixed results. (Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala, Sheev Palpatine, Jedi Council, bunch of other people)

Bridal Carry - On Naboo, it’s tradition for the groom to carry the bride to their marriage bed. With Anakin’s new prosthetic, it’s more difficult than it sounds. (Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker)

Secret Tunnel - War in the Outer Rim! While fighting on the mining world of Mumblety, Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano is tasked with mapping the tunnels along with a team of clones. When trouble strikes, will she have what it takes to save the day and complete the mission? (Ahsoka Tano, Echo, Fives, Anakin Skywalker)

No Place Like Home - Ahsoka’s return to the temple after her first deployment was strange, made even stranger by the fact that it should’t be strange at all. (Ahsoka Tano, Rex)

Eat, Snip, Love - Ahsoka can’t remember the last time she had a home cooked meal. Anakin and Padmé are determined to change that. (Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala)

Love and Support - After Padmé is shot at a conference, her mother insists she come home. Padmé, of course, is going no where. Episode tag to 3.07 “Assassin.” (Padmé, Ahsoka)

Across a Crowded Room - It’s a party in his honor, but it turns out the Hero With No Fear isn’t good with crowds. Padmé to the rescue. (Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker)

Lightening Rod - Anakin gets electrocuted…again. It probably says something bad about his life that he’s getting used to it. (Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Coming Out of My Cage, Doing Just Fine - On the way back from Kadavo, it finally hits her. In this war, Ahsoka had been outmatched, outmaneuvered, and outgunned, but she’d never felt powerless. Not like she did in that cage on Zygerria. (Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker)

In Our Bed After the War - After the mission to Zygerria, Padmé and Anakin have a difficult conversation. (Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker)

Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style - Despite her best efforts, Padmé is pregnant. Now she has a difficult decision to make. (Padme Amidala, C-3P0)

You Call That Family? - In an AU where Anakin has left the order to be Padme, Obi-Wan encounters unexpected resistance when he goes to collect the twins. (Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Padme Amidala)

Birthright - The Force called him to his family and Anakin is not prepared to give them up. Not even to the Jedi Council. (Anakin Skywalker, Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, baby Skywalkers)

If Not For These Bad Dreams - Fives has dreamed about killing every Jedi he’s ever met except General Skywalker. Turns out he’s not the only one. (Fives, Kix, Tup, Jesse)

Dateline Felucia - Embedded with the troops on Felucia, a reporter from HoloNet News paints an intimate portrait of the men of the 212th Attack Battalion. (Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, clone troopers)

Ahsoka the Vampire Slayer - Ahsoka is the Chosen One, the Slayer, or at least she was until she died. She got better, but now there’s a new Slayer in town and things with her Watcher are strained at best. Add in a bunch of zombie mind control bugs and Ahsoka’s week could be going better. BtVS fusion. (Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker, Barriss Offee, Luminara Undili)

Bursts of Stardust - Collection of short tumblr prompts. (Everyone ever)

Rogue One

The Lord’s Estate - Every lord must have an estate. Lord Vader’s is Mustafar. (Vader, Palpatine)

Peace is a Lie - Sometimes Vader wakes up and can’t remember what war he’s fighting. (Darth Vader)

A Cog In Something Turning - Cassian hadn’t meant to give K-2SO free will. Good thing for both of them he’s a terrible slicer. (K-2SO, Cassian Andor)

Original Trilogy

Sea of Sorrow and Sand - Ben Kenobi is an island in a sea of sorrow and sand. Beru Lars has come to drag him back to shore. (Obi-Wan Kenobi, Beru Lars)

What Remains - What remains of a relationship built on lies? Nothing, as Darth Sidious will soon find out. (Darth Vader, Darth Sidious, Padmé Amidala’s preserved corpse)

On This Strange and Mournful Day - The events of Vader Down go very differently. The father and child reunion is only a motion away. (Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker, Dr. Aphra)

After the Funeral - Han offers Luke some unexpected support after the funeral of the guy who tortured him. (Luke Skywalker, Han Solo)

A Cynic’s Guide to the New Golden Age - The second Death Star goes kabloowie and takes the galaxy with it. It’s a new golden age of piracy and Aphra’s got some looting to do. (Dr. Aphra, Luke, 0-0-0, BT-1, Black Krrsantan)

The Last Truce We Ever Came To - Darth Vader is dead but he won’t leave Leia alone. (Leia Organa, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker)

Sequel Era

Red Fish, Blue Fish - Leia bought an aquarium for her child like her father before her. In a perfect world she could raise Ben to fill his grandfather’s legacy. Too bad he had more than one. (Leia Organa, Ben Solo, Angst)

A Matter of Precedence - FN-2187 wasn’t the first, except for the time he was. Others have defied the First Order before, but none quite as spectacularly. (Finn, First Order)

So You Want to be a (Space) Wizard - Finn finds a mysterious book, takes an Oath, and starts one hell of an Ordeal. Crossover with Young Wizards. (Finn, Poe Dameron, Rey)

Old Haunts (All We’ve Ever Known) - Anakin and Obi-Wan as snarky Force ghosts during The Force Awakens. (Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, TFA cast)

Lady in Waiting - Rey’s spent so much of her life waiting it’s hard to know when to stop. Luckily, Poe’s there to give her the push she needs. (Rey, Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, Finn)

Not a Drop to Drink - On Luke’s island, Rey couldn’t quite get her mind around the sheer amount of water stretching out towards the horizon. (Rey, Luke Skywalker)

[onthesandsofdreams]

Under The Storm

Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Rating: T Summary: Cassian knows he has a soulmate, after all, he bears the white tattoo on his right wrist that reads, ‘What a weather, huh?’ Words: 1721 Notes: Using the prompt ‘Soulmate’ from @dailyrebelcaptain‘ Valentine Day Celebration.  Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3

Cassian knows he has a soulmate, after all, he bears the white tattoo on his right wrist that reads, ‘What a weather, huh?’

And while it is not the most clear of answers, because well, it’s about the weather, it brings him some form of comfort knowing that there is someone out there for him. Someone who will match and compliment him. Someone he can be happy and someone to love.

He has always wanted someone to love.

Even knowing his words, he has dated, because who knows if she or he would be the one. The tattoo will only change color once he has found his mate, and while he has heard those words, the tattoo remains white and has not changed. It has been heartbreaking, but he has dealt with it as best as he could.

He’s currently very single and looking. Hoping against hope that he will find the one he is meant to be in the next face, in the next heart or soul. But thus far, he has had no luck. But he refuses to give up or give into despair. Something inside of him tells him to keep going, that his special someone will find him as soon as they are able to. He believes in love, and he believes it will find a way.

And that way comes in the most unexpected way.

There is a massive storm coming to town, and he has already gone shopping and he is prepared to spend the rest of his day indoors. But then, as he is putting his groceries out, he realizes that he has forgotten to buy more dog food. Kay is running low and he will have to brave the storm and go out and get it. He doesn’t have it in him to leave his dog without food.

So, he grabs his parka and an umbrella and begins making his way to the store. He makes it there, buys what he needs and as he is making his way home, the rain turns into a downpour. He quickly seeks the shelter of a bus stop, he will have to wait for the rain to lessen before he can move out, his umbrella is already bending, a clear sign that is both old and about to break.

And he’s been there for a minute, when a woman arrives there, she’s holding her case atop her head, valiantly trying to avoid getting wet. It doesn’t work. She smiles when she sees him and says, “What a weather, huh?”

No sooner than those words leave her mouth, his wrist burns and, to his side, the woman curses and lets her briefcase fall to the floor. He is reeling, and he somehow manages to put the dog food down and lift his sleeves. The tattoo has changed.

Whereas a few moments before it was white and plain, now it’s deep blue with storm clouds around the words. “Uh.” Is all that he manages. And when he turns to see the woman, her eyes are wide and she is also cradling her right wrist, a matching tattoo can be found there. “Sorry?” He tell her.

Her eyes are wide, “Shit.” She says. “You’re my soulmate?”

“I suppose?” He is still very much dazzled, because his brain is not working very well right now. “I’m Cassian. Cassian Andor.” He offers his right hand.

The woman nods, “Jyn Erso,” she takes his hand and a slight electric shock runs to both their arms. He knows that she feels it because he sees her shiver at the same time he does. “Well, what a way for us to meet, huh?” She teases, not letting go of his hand.

“Indeed, in the middle of a storm, beneath a bus stop. What are the chances?”

“I don’t know,” it is only then that she lets go of his hand. “But I assume they’re very small, I mean, had my umbrella not breaking, I might have kept walking.”

And isn’t that a crushing thought? The idea of his soulmate just walking by, not stopping, never knowing is one he doesn’t like very much. “While I am sorry that you got wet,” he says slowly. “A very selfish part of me is glad your umbrella broke.”

Instead of being angry, she snorts in amusement. “A romantic notion, but I guess, given how we are just meeting, that is not too off. Look at us, two strangers trapped under a storm, meeting our soulmate just by chance.”

“Does it bother you?” He asks. He needs to know where he stands, if she wants to get to know him and perhaps, pursue a romantic relationship further down the road.

“It should,” she admits. “But I find that I’m not too bothered, it could have been worse.” Then, she leans forward, a smile on her face and with a spark in her eyes, “Unless you’re a serial killer, in that case, I’m going to tap out.”

It’s his turn to snort, “No, not a serial killer. I’m a book editor.”

“Oh thank god. And also, sounds fun. Any big names that you know?”

“A couple, have you heard of Bodhi Rook?”

Her eyes widen comically, “Have I? I have all his books, don’t tell me you work with him.”

He smiles. “He’s a really nice guy, I can get you a signed copy of your favorite book. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Her eyes shine bright at the prospect, “I’d love that. Thank you.” She smiles and her smile comes easy, as if they had known each other forever. “I teach music, currently trying to get my students ready for a singing contest.”

“Oh?” He’s intrigued, he likes music and he has always enjoyed a good choir. “High school or college?”

“High school,” She answers easily enough. “They’re pretty great, but they tend to either take it over serious or not serious enough. But hey, it’s fine.”

“I should hope so. Got any pets?”

She shakes her head, “I don’t. But I can see you do, what breed?” She points at the dog food at his feet. “Is it a fancy one or a mutt?”

“A fancy one that was rescued, actually.” It was true, he had managed to find a local husky rescue and now he and Kay were pretty much inseparable. “A husky. He’s quite the drama queen. But he’s my best friend and just makes life so much better.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She then hesitates, takes another look at her wrist and then looks at him straight in his eyes, “Have you waited for long?” She points at his wrist. “Or were you hoping we never meet?”

“I have waited,” he won’t lie to her about it. “I got the tattoo when I was five, it’s been white until today. And truth be told, I wanted to meet you. Because I a romantic sap if you will, but I wanted to find that one special person who could compliment me and be a good match. I heard the words so often, but it never changed, and I didn’t want to give up and give in.”

She looks away and ruminates his words for a long time, he lets her, he doesn’t want her to feel pressured, but he won’t lie and pretend that he didn’t want to meet her. She’s still looking away when she speaks again, “I heard the words myself, but nothing changed. And I was ready to give up, they’re such common words that I wasn’t sure if I’d ever meet you. I lived my life and hoped for the best.”

“As did I. I never sat and waited. I lived and loved, but there was a big part of me that hope, that wonder, ‘will he or she be the one?’, so yes, I am quite thrilled that you are here and have the tattoo. But I will understand if you wish to walk away.”

It was that that caused her head to snap and turn to look at him. “No. I want to get to know you, I want to be your friend first. Truth be told, my life has been quite lonely and I’m tired and right now, I’m feeling quite selfish, because I want to call you mine and never share, is that terrible?”

He shook his head, his lips curling at the corners. “No, I think it’s quite human. For all the friends I have, it’s been lonely too. Almost as if there was a you shaped hole and no other could fill. How strange that is?”

“Not strange at all,” it was her turn to reassure him. “It makes sense, you’ve been waiting for me for a long time, and I’ve look for you for almost the same… what age are you?”

“I’m 30.”

She nodded, “And I’m 25, so you have waited since you were five for me. I’m here now, and Cassian Andor, I want to get to know you. To be your friend, possibly lover and love further down the road.”

Her words brought a smile to his face. “I would like that. Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean everything will be easy. I’m sure we’d be like all couples. But I am very much looking forward exploring ‘Us’.”

“As I am.”

While they had been talking, the rain had slowed and then fully stopped. He looked at the lack of rain and opened his umbrella and offered his arm, “Would you like me to walk you somewhere?”

She grins as she takes his arm, “How about we go for some coffee? There’s a great place two blocks away. And they make absolutely delightful pastries too. My treat.”

“Very well, coffee and pastries, off we go.”

It is only that she remembers what he’s bought and frowns, “Won’t your dog be hungry?”

“No, he’s got food for the day, this is back up in case he ran out.”

“Alrighty then, let’s go for that coffee.”

They walk under the umbrella out of the bus stop. And while the skies have not cleared, there’s no rain and some sunlight is coming through the clouds. The wind is chilly and the street is completely wet, but as they make their way to the café, both their hearts feel lighter at the promise of a tomorrow.

[myfriendscallmecoelophysis]

The Fears of a Goddess Pt 4

Part 4 of my Dark! Ianite fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Dedicated to nerf house (Blame them for the delay ;D )

Enjoy and as always

Find me on Ao3:

Selenejessabelle12626 for the tame stuff

Lady-Spieroles for the less tame stuff ;)

~

Jordan remembered when he’d first seen the Taint. He remembered working with the others to defend against it and then eventually push it back. He remembered the appearance of the grotesque manifestation of his Lady that had appeared after Andor’s confession and subsequent arrest. He remembered working with Wag to destroy it, despite it being in Ianite’s likeness and how accomplished they’d felt in ‘saving the town’ even after Martha had warned them against it. He remembered the horror that had replaced it, the eldritch and terrifying abomination that nearly took over the town of Dagrun. He remembered that all along it had been Ianite’s subconscious. 

He’d been horrified by his actions then and the realization of the part he’d played. It had been the first of many choices he’d made in the name of ‘the greater good’ that he would come to regret. Now, as he looked upon it once more, it was with guilt heavy in his heart. Once again, he’d made a mistake that had led her to pain, this was his fault. Was he capable of doing anything but hurting her? He’d just wanted to help. Just wanted to see her free. Wanted to keep her from the fate he knew she would face. How had it become this?

“Sparklez!?” “Cap?!” Tom and Karl’s voices were a surprise. This place was far from their little archipelago, their own Gods must have brought them here. 

“Jordan? Can you hear us?!” Tom sounded genuinely worried, amazing considering the way Jordan had been behaving towards him the last several weeks. He wanted to call out to them but his words died in his throat. What was there to be done? They couldn’t destroy the monster even if they had the weaponry or strength. It was Ianite. It had been her in Ruxomar and it was her now. 

“Tom! Over ‘ere!” 

“JORDAN!” 

He fell forward, tackled from behind in an embrace. 

“We were so worried you idiot.” Tom told him, climbing off a moment later so Jordan could get up. Jordan looked to him briefly but then back at the Taint. 

“That’s her isn’t it.” Tom said softly. He’d not played much of a role in the Taint debacle back in Ruxomar. He’d helped them fight it back initially but had not been involved further until the Abomination had appeared. 

“It is.” Mianite’s voice confirmed, his voice flat. “As my brother and I told the Captain, she may have found the strength she wanted but it was at the cost of herself.”

“So what do we do?” Karl asked. “Fight it?” 

“No!” Jordan snapped, turning to glare at Karl. He got to his feet shakily, stepping away from to stand between them and the remains of the temple. He’d dropped his bow in the explosion but still had his sword, drawing it with a wavering hand. “I won’t let you hurt her.” He hated the weakness in his voice and the pity in their eyes. 

“Jordan.” Tom said softly, his voice infuriatingly gentle. 

“I won’t let you.” Jordan repeated, blinking harshly to keep his vision clear. His eyes stung from tears building within them but he would not back down, not while he still had the strength to stand. 

“Captain. We have no other option. If we do nothing, that sickness will spread across this land destroying everything in its path. We have to contain it.” Dianite said.

“That sickness is your sister! You lied! You want her out of the way, all of you! I won’t let her get hurt, not again!” 

“Then what do you want us to do Jordan?!” Tom shouted. “I understand that you’re afraid for her. But tell me how this-” He gestured sharply at the writhing monster “-is possibly what she wanted? You’re saying she wanted to be free. This is not free. Do you remember Ianite in Ruxomar and how she cried when we told her what she’d done to the town? You told her about this very monster that she was responsible for and she was so ashamed she didn’t want to come back. I may not know your God as well as you but I can bet that this Ianite isn’t happy about this either.” 

Jordan had nothing to say, he didn’t move or speak in response to Tom’s words. All he could do was meet the zombie’s eyes. He didn’t look mad or sad, he looked concerned. But concerned for who? Himself? Surely not for Ianite or Jordan but then he spoke again and the bitter feeling in Jordan’s mind softened. 

“If I understand what's going on, this happened because of a spell World Historian wrote. Ianite used it thinking it would make her strong enough to do what? Fill me in Jordan. I want to help you but I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on. Let me help you to help her.” 

He didn’t appear to be lying, Jordan had always been fairly good at spotting one of Tom’s lies, he did actually care. Jordan lowered his sword and his eyes in one motion, then slowly spoke. “She wanted to be stronger than her brothers. They wouldn’t be able to lock her away if she was stronger.” 

“Alright. Fair plan. But why the spell?” Tom prompted in the same empathetic tone, not judging or offering his support, simply commenting that it made sense and pushing Jordan to speak more. 

“She had a vision. Their father told her that his spell would give her the strength she wanted.” 

“Their father, World Historian right?” 

Jordan was once again struck by a pang of guilt. “I thought he would be different here. An alternate like Spark and Mot were to us. I didn’t think-”

“We’re not focusing on that right now Jordan. I just wanted a little clarification. We’re focusing on what happened so that we can help Ianite. If the spell was in there, why’re you out here?” 

“I was with her. She needed me, needed a mortal to go in the temple, but then I started feeling sick. I couldn’t go any farther. She sent me back out here to-” he trailed off, suddenly ashamed of how hostile he’d been. His thoughts leapt back to the tainted arrow, now hyper aware of it’s deadly power. He’d been so close to using it on Dianite or Mianite, if not for the explosion knocking the bow from his hand, he may have fired on either of them or even Tom or Karl. 

“Keep us busy?” Tom finished for him. Jordan looked away from him but nodded. “I’m not mad Jordan, haven’t been this whole time. I know I’ve been worried for you and I know Karl has too. You’re our friend mate. Us following different Gods doesn’t change that.”

“He’s right Cap.” Karl chimed in, the casual agreement drawing a reluctant smile from Jordan. 

I don’t blame you for doing everything you thought you could to help her. You couldn’t’ve known what would happen. I doubt that even she fully knew what would happen.” Tom put a hand to the side of his mouth like he was about to tell a secret then stage whispered “Between you and me, these Gods don’t know what they’re doing half the time anyway. I think they’re too young or something.” 

“I heard that Syn.” Dianite grumbled but it was without much malice. Tom grinned behind his hand, the same mischievous grin Jordan had seen on the zombie dozens if not hundreds of times since they’d met on that island years ago. 

“So let’s help your Goddess get back to herself and then we’ll find a mutually beneficial solution for all of us. See Jordan look at me being balanced.” 

“Unfortunately Syndicate, it is not that simple.” Mianite spoke up from behind Tom. “I’m afraid that there is no solution besides the one that my sister and her champion fought so hard to avoid.” 

“What do you mean?” Karl asked, looking at his God in confusion. 

Mianite frowned, the expression making him appear far closer to the wise God of Order they would come to know, instead of the young prankster he was now. “You mortals cannot sense it the way Dianite and I can, but there is a Darkness within that creature. The Darkness that has been haunting your islands and our own psyches. It is taking advantage of Ianite and the strength of this form. Her quintessence-”

Jordan’s world slowed at the mention of that word. No, not again. He would not let this happen to her again. Not in this world. Not if he could stop it. 

“To defeat the Darkness, you’re saying it will take us defeating the Abomination?” He interrupted Mianite. 

The God looked to Jordan and nodded “Based on the research I was able to find, yes. Without something to fuel itself, it will wither and dissipate.” 

“So all this time, it’s been using her?”

Mianite looked at Dianite and then back to Jordan “We believe so.”

There was a stinging sensation in his eyes as he leveled his sword at Mianite, despite knowing it would do nothing. “Tell me you’re lying. Tell me this is just a plot for you to lock her away.” “Sparklez-” Dianite began to say

“Just tell me you’re lying! Tell me I don’t have to hurt her again!” He yelled, blinking as tears welled up. Tom had fallen silent, looking between his God and Jordan with a desperate expression. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could, but to save Ianite, we must destroy the creature the Darkness had twisted her to become.” 

The sword fell from his hands as the tears fell from his eyes. He was on the ground suddenly, knees and fingers digging into the dirt. “I promised her that I would save her. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This world was supposed to be different.” His glasses had fallen from his face, the lenses scratched and dirtied. “Why is it always her? Why is it always us?” 

‘It is the duty of a balanced person to bear the burden of all sides. That is our purpose, my Champion.’ The words in his mind now did not belong to this Ianite, nor to the one he’d lost in Ruxomar, instead they were the words of the wise Goddess he’d first met all those years ago. He recognized them, could recall when she had spoken them. It had been after one of his first prayers to her after she’d revealed her existence. He’d prayed for her healthy and speedy recovery, asking why she, of all the Gods, had to suffer. It was the reminder he needed now. Balance was what she stood for. Was what he stood for in her name. Balance meant feeling the good and bad, the victory and the defeat, not lending yourself to one side or another, but staying in the middle ground. It would always be her burden as the Goddess of Balance to keep things as they should. And right now, Balance meant destroying the force that threatened it. 

Slowly Jordan began to breathe and collect himself, wiping the tears from his eyes. He’d done many things in his life for the so called ‘greater good’, many of those things had been mistakes. But this, somehow he knew this was not one of those times. This had never been his Ianite, not from the moment they’d met in this world. She never would have tried to run from her fate if it meant disturbing the Balance of the world. He had no choice but to fight in her name. It hurt, it hurt so badly, but the Balance had been thrown in flux by the possession of his Goddess and it was his responsibility as the Champion of Balance and of Ianite to return things to how they should be. 

He stood and when the haze of tears disappeared entirely, Tom was there, Jordan’s bow in his hand. The wood was cracked in places, damaged from use and from the explosion, but it should hold out, it had to. Jordan took a deep breath and took the bow from him, it’s enchantments still shimmered dully, he could feel them all pulsing comfortingly under his hand. He knew what he must do. He would make this as painless for her as possible. 

With calm, measured steps, Jordan walked past Tom and Karl and the Gods to where his bow had lain. There, half buried under ash and dirt, was the tainted arrow. With care, he picked it up and cleaned the fletching of debris, straightening it so that the arrow would surely fly true. Then, he turned back to the others, who were all watching him with uncertainty. He took a deep breath and said “I have to do this alone.” 

“Jordan-” Tom opened his mouth but it was Karl who put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. 

“Let ‘im do this Tom.” He said, then nodded to Jordan. 

Before them all, the Abomination writhed, tentacles smashing through what remained of the mountain. It didn’t make a sound itself, only the slam of its limbs against the earth and the crumble of stone and obsidian. He’d seen this creature before, knew what lay in the center of the mass of purple limbs. In Ruxomar, the maw had taken them to the End and to Ianite, as that Abomination had been her subconscious, now though, it would be a weak point. 

Jordan slid the tainted arrow into his quiver, shrugged off his chest plate and switched his elytra. 

“Sparklez.” Tom said and Jordan turned to look at him. “Be careful alright?”

He gave Tom a small smile, the best he could muster with all the different emotions he was feeling. “I will.” He assured, then with a flick of a firework, shot into the air. 

The air was cleaner the farther he got from the ground, the dust mostly having settled to the ground below. He flew higher and higher until he felt a chill in his skin and his breath fogged in the air. He’d used several fireworks to get this high this fast, the hand he’d fired them with tingled from the residual heat, but that was the key. He had to get above the Abomination’s reach. He knew how far those tentacles could stretch and how much damage they did from a single touch. Already the land was turning a sickly shade of purple, the taint spreading too fast to even try to stop. It was a risk to put so much faith in the tainted arrow, for all he knew it would be entirely useless but he really didn’t have a better plan. If what Ianite had said was true, this would incapacitate her to such a point of weakness that the Darkness would have no reason to continue to use her. It would let her go entirely. At least that was what he hoped. 

Finally, he drew his wings into a glide, spiraling slowly around the entire mass of the Abomination, observing and scouting and formulating a plan. A few of the tentacles reached upward towards him, but weren’t quite long enough. He was out of their reach for now, but as he spiralled lower and lower, that advantage wouldn’t last for long. He searched for the weak spot, the throat and maw of the Abomination. It was the only place an arrow of any kind would pierce, he knew that from when he and Wag had tried to, inadvisably, destroy the Abomination in Ruxomar. As far as he knew, that had been Ianite’s subconscious and her subconscious only, this was different. This time, the Darkness was a contributing factor. Sure they’d fought the Darkness before in different forms, but never like this. 

There! A slight shift of one of the more central arms rewarded him a glimpse of the gaping mouth. He struggled with how to address this in his mind, because in the end it was Ianite. It was His Lady even if before him was a massive eldritch creature. ‘Forgive me My Lady’ He prayed, then angled into a dive. 

~

Tom watched Jordan climb further and further into the air, feeling helpless. He was capable of helping of course but he respected Jordan and his wishes. He couldn’t help but to wring his hands and fidget. He hated not being involved. For what it was worth, Karl looked to be in a similar mental state, his face contorting minutely as his eyes tracked Jordan’s flight. 

“I hate this.” Tom muttered to himself. “He knows I hate sitting on the sidelines. Him and his damn pride.” He huffed, frustration building. “I can’t just sit here!” He looked to Dianite “Can’t we do something? I get that it’s his Goddess and his problem and all that but he’s my friend!” 

“Tom, you have to give him a chance-” Karl started to say but his eyes widened, Tom turning to see what he was seeing. Jordan was diving, wings pinned back and bow in hand. Tom’s heart stopped in his chest, but then, as if in slow-motion, he watched one of the tentacles move directly into Jordan’s flight path. It flicked him away like a minor annoyance and Tom couldn’t help but cry out Jordan’s name. He launched himself in the air, the crack of another firework just behind him. 

By the time Tom got to where Jordan had been hit, Jordan had already managed to right himself and use another firework to regain some height. But now all three of them were in reach of the monster and it seemed to notice, flailing about madly in a crude attempt to strike them. Karl managed to maneuver himself level enough with Tom. 

“What was your plan here?” He shouted over the rush of wind. 

“Help Jordan! Distract the thing I guess!” 

“Any tips on how?!” 

“Nope. Didn’t help deal with it the first time around!”

“I’m gonna get that story out of you if we survive this!” 

“I’ll give it to you mate!”  He called back, Karl giving him a teasing salute before angling his elytra away. Karl wasn’t the best at using them, but he’d picked up some skills after dozens of races. Tom watched him grab his bow and shakily draw, firing at the tentacle closest to him, narrowly dodging when it retaliated.  

Jordan had noticed them by now and even from here Tom could see the displeasure in his eyes. 

“This is my fight Tom!” He yelled as he wove between two tentacles. 

“What’s a new dimension without fighting one of the Gods eh?” Because it was true in the end. In both prior worlds they’d fought one of the Gods. He himself had dealt the final blow to Dianite when they’d fought him in Aethoria, Ianite’s kingdom above the void. They’d fought Mianite in Ruxomar as well. Both times together as a team. It wouldn’t make sense for Jordan to do this on his own. 

“Besides, no harm in Karl and me providing a bit of distraction. Do what you need to Sparklez, we’ll keep it off you.” 

Jordan’s frown wasn’t subtle but as he flew past he said “Thank you.” and Tom knew that it was as good as a blessing. 

They parted, both going in dramatically different angles. Jordan went practically straight up to prepare for another attempt at the trick he’d tried first. Tom, on the other hand, chose to dive down low. He was confident in his own skills at piloting an elytra, he could maneuver through the forest of taint. If they split up like this, Karl peppering it with arrows from the middle, Jordan trying to dive from above and him keeping it busy from below, surely Jordan would have an opening. 

Being surrounded by so much of the taint was bringing back unwanted feelings. The days of paranoia spent digging a moat around the tree while the taint crept closer and closer, the panic to collect cobblestone to build a wall around the town, the desperate hunt for resources to make the flowers to fight it back. Needless to say Tom hated the taint. But what he hated more was seeing his friends suffer. And Jordan had suffered enough because of the Darkness. Tom could swallow his discomfort if it meant helping his friends. 

He took care not to touch anything except with an arrow or the blade of his sword. He’d seen what the taint did to things and he was not planning for it to infect him. He really should have warned Karl but too late now, all he could do was hope that Karl would recognize what was clearly something dangerous and not touch it.

It was worrying that his weapons did almost nothing. They barely broke the flesh, purple sludge weakly oozing from what cuts he managed to make. Thank Dianite that he had infinity on his bow or else he’d have run out of arrows long ago. Fear was starting to creep in though, if their weapons, as strong as they were, did hardly anything, what more could they possibly do? He still had a wand stashed away somewhere, that might help, but he also had no clue where he was compared to their islands. It would take too long to go back and get it. They just had to keep trying. 

He broke free towards what he thought was the center of the Abomination, here the tentacles were smaller, more agile and more dangerous. He’d seen Jordan attempt a dive or two, only to pull back at the last second because his opening had disappeared. Tom risked a glance upward, he could see Jordan circling, preparing for another dive. He had to have something he thought would work or else he wouldn’t keep trying this. 

If Jordan was going for whatever was in the center of this thing, then Tom would sure as hell help him in the best way he could. 

~

Jordan saw glimpses of both Tom and Karl moving in and out of the Abomination’s reach. He’d seen Karl fumble but he’d managed to recover. Tom had hardly left the mass of arms, Jordan only caught brief peeks of his hat or the tip of his elytra. He knew that they were helping though, the way the tentacles no longer focused on him was proof of that. But yet, the Darkness still was keeping the closest arms protecting the maw. He’d missed his chance twice already, the thinner more active tentacles blocking him every time he’d gotten close. He was past the point of melancholy, he was getting mad now. He was tired of fighting this, he was tired of the Darkness ruining everything he cared about in every world. 

The bright red wing of Tom’s elytra was stark against the writhing mass of purple below, he saw Tom chance a look upward, angling his wings as easily as breathing. He had a sword in hand, the diamond blade shimmering with enchantments. This might be his chance, if Tom could distract these arms and give him an opening, Jordan could take the shot. 

“TOM!” Jordan yelled as loud as he could to get the other man’s attention. Tom looked up again and Jordan knocked the tainted arrow with as much care as he could. There was a slight inclination of Tom’s head so Jordan took that as a sign that Tom understood his intentions. 

With a deep breath, Jordan angled downward, determined that this would be the final time. The world blurred around him, his eyes focused on the gaping darkness at the center of the Abomination. The wind rushed past his ears, drowning out all other sounds as he flew faster and faster. The purple mass grew larger as he approached, flashes of red obscured the flailing tentacles, Tom’s glowing blue sword swinging wildly, trying to do as much damage as he could. 

Just a little bit more, just a little bit closer, just a little bit more power. And suddenly the tentacles moved as one, standing straight up then slamming down towards Tom. Without hesitating, Jordan drew back his bowstring. 

“I’m sorry Ianite.” 

The arrow left his bow straight and true, lighting with toxic flame as the fletching slipped past his knuckle. He watched it fly down into the writhing tentacles below, miraculously missing every one of them. Farther and farther away until he had no choice but to pull up his flight, forcing himself to keep from looking back while he questioned if he’d made the right choice. 

Moments later, a heart wrenching wail of agony erupted from below him, every tentacle thrashing. Noxious violet smoke began to fill the air and Jordan could only hope that Tom and Karl had managed to get clear in time. Jordan landed on a nearby mountaintop, the closest safe place of earth, his legs wobbly beneath him. 

He fell to his knees, tears in his eyes as he watched the Abomination dissolve into smoke and dissipate in the air. 

~

Ianite came to in the scattered ruins of the temple. Her memory was foggy and pain filled but some part of her could still feel the void where the power had been. She’d been stretched so full with strength, vast and limitless, but now there was nothing. She was on the ground, but her body would not cooperate enough to let her lift even her head, let alone turn over off of her stomach. She’d never felt this weak in all her life, like every ounce of divine power had bleed away. Deep in her chest was a straining ache, all of her body ached but there was something even further, a pinprick that almost stung with energy. 

The arrow 

The realization hit her in an instant. He’d used the arrow on her. She could feel it not just in her chest but in her heart. What had she done that he, her most loyal follower, had felt the need to use that arrow on her? But then she noticed the dark cloud that had been in her mind for as long as she could remember, was gone. It was like a weight had been lifted and replaced instead by the gentle ache of the arrow. 

A cloud of dust flurried around a pair of boots that filled her vision. She blinked, trying to clear the haze from her eyes and look up but she was just so unbelievably weak she couldn’t even manage that. 

“Milady?” It was him, her Champion. He’d come back to her. There was a heaviness to his voice and with horror she realized it was fear.

“Sparklez?” Her own voice was rough, hoarse with fragility.

“Are you alright?” He was keeping his distance where before she thought they’d always been closer. 

“What happened?” She asked in lieu of answering.

He shifted from one foot to the other, hesitating in answer. 

“Jordan?” She asked, a cough tearing itself from her throat in between syllables 

“The spell, it wasn’t what you thought it was.” 

Four more clouds of dust kicked up and she desperately wanted to look but for the life of her could not move. She’d told him the arrow would weaken a God but she’d not imagined it would be like this. She could feel the slightest remnant of her power but it was like grasping for something just out of reach, smoke drifting through her fingers.  

“Sister.” So, that’s what had happened. Her brothers had intervened. Wait, why was that a thought that crossed her mind? She loved her brothers. Why had her first thought been filled with such malice? 

Jordan crouched down and she nearly cried from the sadness in his eyes. “Please, just someone tell me what happened.” She begged. 

“You told me you remembered parts of your other selves. Do you have any memory of a world where you and I were more than follower and Goddess? The other version of me left the other version of you behind. And your, her, subconscious, she lost control of it. It manifested in the form of a, of a,” he struggled to find the words he was searching for but she realized he’d already said enough. She knew of the world of which he spoke. She’d seen that world through her other selfs eyes. She’s seen the other Jordan leave and felt the acute and painful sadness her other self had felt. She knew that she’d sequestered herself in the End for years, wallowing in her own trauma and that from it, a great darkness had emerged. 

“A monster.” She finished and she could see by the way his jaw tightened, that she was right. “You used the arrow.” 

“I did.” 

She wasn’t sure what to say at first but as she thought about it, there really was only one thing to say if she had become that Abomination. 

“Thank you.” 

“I failed you.” He said, hanging his head. 

“You didn’t. If I became that monstrosity, there was nothing else for you to do.” 

“But milady, the future.”

“We’ll find another way, a safer way. But truly, I’m not sure that I am strong enough to do anything but accept my fate.” The more she thought about, the more true it became. She wanted to rest. All these last years had been spent desperately searching and longing for an escape but now, there was a lightness to her, an apathy towards her impending destiny. Her concern had melted away. The darkness that had clouded her mind had dissipated in the wind along with her fears of what lay ahead. No, he had not failed her. He had saved her. As he always had and always would.

“What are you saying?” His melancholy had morphed to concern, his brows furrowing above his glasses. 

She reached out with what little magic she had to speak to her brothers “I’m ready. It is time for me to rest.” 

Sparklez had a look of fear and confusion in his eyes as Dianite stepped forward to lift her into his arms with care. They’d always been close, the two of them, she’d wondered what circumstances could possibly lead to him being the one to lock her away, but now, she knew. 

“What are you doing? You can’t!” Her Champion began to protest, desperation and turmoil in his voice.

She gave him a small, sad smile. “Thank you My Champion, for your many years of loyalty and your devotion. I have you to thank for saving me in this life and all the rest. I look forward to the day where we meet again, however long it may take.”

“Milady” He breathed and she could see sparkling tears on his cheeks. 

Ianite mustered one last smile for Her Champion and chose the words of her other self for her last goodbye. 

“See you soon, my man.” 

[coolcattime]

Heyo it's the usual anon here with a bit of an angst mianite au.

I kinda have given up on this idea but i was working on it as a fic called "the man that would be king" where not long after andor was taken to the prison, helgrind very suddenly dies and andor is left either comatose from the trauma of having his wings ripped off or dies. Suddenly dagrun has no king. With this sudden vacuum of power the worshippers of mianite and mianite himself wants to put lieutenant al as regent, however sparklez is has a shockingly legitimate claim to the throne. Considering he is kinda the same person who built the kingdom. Mianite decides to hide in the shadows for now and acts through lt. al. He doesnt want to do it but is convinced by farmer steve to not abdicate his rights to the throne. Meanwhile along with tom they plan on ruling the kingdom from the shadows as dianitees by offering a future king sparklez their council (in this au sparklez never learns that steve is actually a dianitee instead of an ianitee) of course mianite can just try to take over the town by force but he doesnt want to confront a younger much more feral version of sparkplug. So he has to play around trying to slowly manipulate things to put pressure on sparklez as a leader to make him give up his claim to the throne. [Namely increasing the frequency of blood moons, stalling trade with the kingdom and even highering pirates.] While using al to try and convince him away from his faith in ianite.

Spirit dianite still shows up in this au and decides to lay low not openly declaring his presence to the heroes other than tom. Using his power he helps provide tom and steve with extra supplies and might to be worthwhile allies to sparklez.

Sonja is checked out during all this falling deeper and deeper into madness exploring thaumcraft leaving one of the few solid allies sparklez had essentially a gone.

Tucker starts snooping around and sees mianite is the one behind alot of the recent tragedy and attacks surrounding dagrun and decides to track down and confront the god.

All the while the death and the turmoil of the city causes ianite and her taint monster to stir.

And that's as far as i got. I had some plans for martha to show up during the next few parts. For tucker to confront mianite, and for more focus on sonja but i realized i dont love writing political dramas as much as love reading them

This idea story is intriguing. I think the idea of Jordan taking the throne after Helgrind dies. I think either version of Andor's fate is pretty interesting for how the story could develop as if he's in a coma then it does make sense that Jordan could be pressed into taking the throne as regent as it's unlikely Al would want to help Andor. Meanwhile, if he died then there's the point of view that could be had that Mianite is purposefully killing off people so he can do a hostile takeover of the town.

I think Steve manipulating Jordan to rule for Dianite's interests from the shadows is pretty interesting, especially with Tom helping. Though I do think maybe Tom should be a little less opening to manipulating Jordan from the shadows just because like they're friends and that's a bit of a dick move to do to your friends.

Obviously Mianite putting pressure on Jordan by basically putting siege on the town is very in character. Though trying to persuade Jordan away from Ianite I doubt will work out well for him.

I don't have too many opinions on Dianite and Sonja's side stories other than this is very funny if in the background of this political drama is the story you've earlier sent of Sonja going slightly mad from trying to revive Capsize. But I do really love the idea of Tucker going to confront Mianite because I love the idea of him actually turning against Mianite when he realises all the harm Jordan is doing.

I do think the story idea is really interesting though obviously I do see why writing this would be difficult as like this sort of story is so reliant of knowing what everyone thinks and is actually doing compared to what other characters think they're doing.

[wot-tidbits]

RJ’s notes Part 68 by Linda Taglieri

AES SEDAI HISTORY NEW ERA

SOURCE

Daughters of Silence (794–798 NE)

The captives were displayed at every town and village on the way to Tar Valon, and at every village one of the prisoners was selected for public punishment, to drive home that this sort of activity was not permitted. The captives were birched in the White Tower before not only the assembled sisters, but all novices and Accepted; the followers were each birched once, the ringleaders both before the others and again after. The ringleaders were kept in the Tower for almost a year, worked hard at the dirtiest tasks until it was certain that the lesson had been driven home sufficiently, and then put out again. Those of the followers who were young enough (i.e. eighteen years of age or younger; numbering six) were kept in the Tower as novices. One of these (Saerin Asnobar) managed to reach the shawl. Those over eighteen were put to work alongside the ringleaders, and each was sent away when it was felt that she had "learned her lesson."

Jarna Malari, Grey Sitter and Head of the Black Ajah, noticed Tamra calling in senior sisters to give them instructions for a mission and wanted to know why badly enough to torture the information out of Tamra and kill her. She feared that the lack of Black sisters in Tamra’s emissaries meant that they were hunting the Black Ajah. A ring of twelve black sisters forced Tamra into their circle against her will and they manipulated her physical and emotional sensations through the link, torturing and interrogating her without leaving any marks (Robert Jordan, Aes Sedai notes). Chesmal and Galina took part in this interrogation (Winter’s Heart, A Plan Succeeds) and probably helped make it seem as though Tamra had died in her sleep (A Crown of Swords, Prologue). Tamra’s Warder also died that night (Robert Jordan, Aes Sedai notes).

In the year after Tamra died, 30‒50 of the most senior sisters—some old, some strong channellers—were killed by the Black Ajah.

Most simply were killed out of hand, though often some accident was arranged. Few were put to the question. After all, the Black Ajah thought it had all necessary information from Tamra; what she had told them was all there was to know. So long as the sister clearly had not found the man—in which case, they would try to question her—there was no need. If she did seem to be behaving as though she might have found him, all they needed to know was whether she had. If the answer was no, again, there was no need for more information. Besides, putting a sister to the question is not easily done even inside the Tower. Outside, it is even more difficult… Very few were clearly murders, and were taken as killings by Darkfriends or possibly Whitecloaks.

Тhe Chronicles only record sixteen male channellers found in the last twenty years, when actually twenty-four were (including Rand, Logain and Taim (Robert Jordan, Aes Sedai notes)), as recorded in the Thirteenth Depository (A Crown of Swords, Prologue). Eight, including Owyn, were never taken to the Tower to be tried and gentled as required by law. Elaida was personally involved in Owyn’s gentling, using the information that Thom’s nephew could channel to break Thom’s influence over Morgase (Robert Jordan, Aes Sedai notes). Like many Reds, Elaida believed, and still does, that this was the right way to handle these men even though it is against Tower law. Most of those sisters involved in the illegal gentling of men believed that the majority of those they executed on suspicion of being channellers were guilty (Robert Jordan, Aes Sedai notes). The majority. Those sisters bound by the oath against lying used the allowed excuse of the danger and/or impossibility of bringing the man in, when they did not just fail to report the man at all.

The depository records two thousand men and boys killed in six years between 979–985 NE, but the true number was understated by at least a factor of five. The Black Ajah killed 30–50 senior Aes Sedai who may have known about the Dragon Reborn’s birth.

The three short reigns and rapid changes in administrations limited the long-term planning for the White Tower’s internal and external affairs. This led the Hall to seek a long period of stability by breaking with the established tradition of twenty to thirty year reigns and look at younger candidates for Amyrlin. The choice must have been much wider in that range than in the group of old sisters at the end of their lifespans, which had been further reduced by the Black Ajah’s murders. The Hall was also insistent that the candidate be free of any involvement with the male channeller pogrom.

The agreement to consider a much younger Amyrlin implies that the deaths of at least two of the three short-reigned Amyrlins were believed to be natural old age. Even if some Sitters knew or suspected otherwise, that was publicly how they explained the deaths to each other. While most Amylins in the New Era have been well over a hundred years of age—if not two hundred—when raised, there have been Amyrlins in the earlier eras that were as youg as 50, so young Amyrlins were not without precedent.

The first four potential candidates the Hall considered as Marith’s replacement had all been Aes Sedai for less than fifty years, but the Hall could not decide between them. This is not surprising, because such a young Amyrlin would have a two hundred year reign (if not deposed or killed) and no Ajah wanted to let another Ajah, even an ally, rule that long, not to mention it would destroy the hopes of the Sitters themselves of being Amyrlin one day. The Hall then decided to look at even younger candidates. Probably the thought of a malleable Amyrlin was pleasant after being so strongly restrained by the stern Marith. Elaida was proposed (none of the Sitters knew of her involvement in the pogrom) and then Seaine Herimon suggested Siuan, who had been Aes Sedai for only ten years, but who was very strong in the Power and had a reputation as a very good administrator. Neither Elaida nor Siuan had strong support amoung the Sitters, but nor did they have strong opposition. However, Elaida had concentrated on Andor to the exclusion of other countries, while Siuan had travelled prior to becoming an administrator and showed good judgment on foreign affairs.

A good many ordinary sisters supported the move, which meant that no Sitter found herself recalled for standing to depose Siuan or raise Elaida. Besides which, there is a great tradition of acceptance in the White Tower; the removal of Siuan and the raising of Elaida was done within the letter of the law, however barely, so many felt that it must be accepted. Others did not, though; the law was met, barely, but the custom by which the greater consensus is supposed to involve the full Hall or as near to the full Hall as can be arranged, was ignored.

Elaida had little idea of what was really going on—what Alviarin’s schemes were—and even less about how to undo the damage she caused:

Elaida thinks the trouble is centered in the Green and the Yellow, but she is wrong. The Whites seem to think Elaida's actions have been illogical, the Grays seem to think she could have negotiated an end to the division (or at least solved it in some way that kept the truth decently hidden, a believe shared by many in other Ajahs), while the Browns seem to resent that she is suspicious of them over the two Sitters going over to the rebels (although, remember, many sisters of other Ajahs are suspicious over this). Even some Reds are irritated that Elaida hasn't found some way to squelch the tales and rumors about the Red Ajah and false Dragons, especially the rumors inside the Tower.

The Red Ajah faces considerable mistrust. In the face of rumors about them and Logain, about them and other false Dragons, they have refused to "demean themselves" by even acknowledging the existence of the rumors. Publicly, at least. Privately, among themselves, they burn like fury! That fury is directed at the other Ajahs, at the sisters who seem to believe in the rumors, at those who even listen to them without denying—and increasingly, at Elaida for not putting a stop to it.

In fact, with the turning against each other spreading even inside the Ajahs, some are not sure of the claims of sisters of their own Ajahs.

For one thing, rebel Sitters, Ajah Head and, above all, Amyrlin, are usurpers according to the law, and if they are on the losing side, face prosecution as such. An Accepted Amyrlin would be punished on her return to the Tower but surely not so severely as a full sister who claimed the title of Amyrlin. Surely there would be leniency in spite of the law, especially for one of her potential who had plainly been manipulated by others.

As a "phony" Amyrlin, she would be easily pushed aside later, and in the meantime she would be a puppet for the Hall AND a means of helping make sure that neither Lelaine nor Romanda would gain enough power and following to keep the rebellion going.

[mianite-3-unofficial]

Arrival

After the river, there was nothing but forest, miles and miles of forest between them and Vatredas.

A weeks worth of forest, to be accurate. A full week. Well, a week and three days, but those first three days weren’t anything compared to the long days of traveling they went through. Packing at sunrise, making camp at sunset. It was grueling, but efficient, and honestly sort of fun. The aches in her legs and back kept her comfortably distracted from her friends.

If Tom was the same Tom, the town would be half razed, Tucker trying to put the pieces back together or joining in on the mischief. Wag would go find something magic, Martha would stay Martha, and Andor would... do something. They discussed friends over the campfires. Lev and her both agreed that Sparkelz would probably have done something stupid for Ianite by now.

Lev didn’t talk much about what their life was before they started traveling, all she knew about them was that their father was in prison, and that they were going to meet someone. Vague, not enough to trust someone from, but Lev probably didn’t trust her either. Not fully, at least.

Especially not after the thing with the spiders at the river. They didn’t talk about that.

The thought of all those little white spiders bridging the river crossed her mind for the eighth time that day when she looked up. No more trees on the horizon. Only farmland- low and level, a few homes clustered in a few small villages.

“Is that it?” Sonja asked.

Lev frowned.

“Big fuck city with wall and farmland? Yes. That’s Vatredas.” They cracked their neck.

“Let’s get to walking,” Sonja decided, “I think we can make it there before dusk.”

Lev nodded, face still cold.

They did, in fact, get there before dusk, walking through the woods in silence. Sonja couldn’t help but feel anxious about her friends, and god knows what Lev was worrying about.

Just as the sun was starting to set, the forest ground turned to a road of gravel, unkempt and messy around the edges, fields stretching out as far as the eye could see. Over the wall, Sonja could see tall, rich buildings, quickly hiding under the wall as they got closer to the village. Same gravel roads, same small, old houses and shops she saw on the horizon. The buildings were all in some sort of disrepair, air reeking of earth and rot.

The people walking past wore dull, simple clothing, not even sparing them glances as they walked. The only ones who looked well off were what Sonja assumed were guards, clad in shining armor, wearing what looked like feathery cloaks- no, those were wings.

“This is Vatredas?” Sonja whispered to Lev. Lev nodded.

“Outside of the wall, at least. The person I meet is inside of them... is that-“

They were cut off by someone suddenly slamming into them, lifting Lev off the ground and spinning him around, laughing. Finally, she set them down-

“Anya?” Lev asked, stunned, “You’re still alive?”

The woman- Anya- laughed. She was short, with black hair cropped close to her scalp, cream colored dress standing out against her dark skin.

“I could ask the same of you!” She cried, taking Levs hands in her own, “I thought you were dead! Another miracle! Oh, you’ve missed so much- ol Gerta died two springs ago, and guess who’s in charge of the bar now? Me! Oh, it’s just how I dreamed it to be. I missed you so much, Lev. Who’s your friend?”

“Uh,” Sonja said, “I’m Sonja, I’m here to meet some friends of mine in the city-“

“So am I,” Lev interrupted, “Here to find a man my, er, father sent me to find.”

Anya’s face fell. She squeezed Lev’s hands in her own, then forced a smile.

“Well, you can at least stay the night here. Go search in the morning. There is someone, actually, that I’d like you both to meet! He is a delight, a real... voice, if you know what I mean.”

“Another revolutionary,” Lev sighed. “We can’t do anything until, you know, my father is out of prison. I have to deal with my... er, um-“

“Aunt?” Anya suggested. Lev nodded. Sonja felt she was missing something.

“Yes. Aunt. I’ll meet this new voice, but first, a drink.”

“That sounds perfect,” Sonja said. Anya seemed nice, and if not nice, was at least very welcoming. And very pretty. As much as every part of her wanted to go inside the walls, find her friends and get to see them again, traveling in the dark never ever ended well.

Anya started walking away, leading Lev by the hand through the roads, which were starting to become emptier and emptier. Silently, she prayed to Mianite.

I’m here now. They’re here, right? I need to know they’re here. That they’re safe. Please.

They stopped in front of what Sonja assumed was the bar, cracked windows leaking light and sound out into the street. Sonja checked her arms for spiders. No, nothing. Anya opened the door, the three of them making their way into the bar.

Sonja closed the door behind them, hit with a wave of sound and the stench of alcohol. She sat at the bar next to Lev, watching absentmindedly as Anya started filling chipped glass mugs with frothy ale, fluttering about the bar like a butterfly.

“Don’t worry,” Lev whispered, putting their hand on her shoulder, “your friends will be fine. Tomorrow we search, and... Sonja? I’m glad I met you. You are remarkable.”

Sonja smiled, looking away.

“You’re pretty remarkable too, Lev.”

Lev pat her shoulder, then pulled their hand away. Sonja stared out the window, catching the last wisps of sunset before darkness.

She wished the sun would rise already.

[anonymoose314]

Timelines - Part 1

First off, I really enjoyed both Rogue One and Andor and truly believe they are both exceptional examples of storytelling.

My singular issue with Andor was the retcon-ing of previously established canon. Reason being, continuity is really important to maintaining suspension of disbelief. The story is cheapened without it as it feels like the creators are just making it up as they go along (for financial reasons) rather than telling the story 'as it happened'.

In light of this, here are some of my headcanons which I have told myself in order to reconcile Rogue One and Andor in my head, with minimal conflict to either. Plus some extra ones cause I got carried away with the world-building and the characters 😁.

- Cassian was born on Fest (a planet in the neighbouring system to Kenari) in ~26 BBY to Elena and Felix Jeron and named Cassian Jeron

- Kerri Jeron was born 3 years later, in 21BBY.

- When Kerri was learning to talk she could not pronounce 'Cassian' entirely so nicknamed her big brother 'Kassa' which caught on quickly with the rest of their family and friends

- Elena was a Librarian and archivist whose life's work was in preserving and sharing knowledge from all cultures and sources as she believed that education and learning from history was necessary for any improvement to society

- Elena shared her love of stories and books with both her children from babyhood. She would sit with Cassian every evening after long and stressful days at work, and read to and with him

- after Kerri was born, Felix would hold his daughter while sitting in an old, but very comfortable green rocking chair in front of the fireplace while Elena and Cassian would sit together on the sofa. Sometimes the children would be held by the other parent for storytime, but Felix had badly damaged his back at work when Cassian was a toddler and often struggled to lift him without pain as he grew heavier. Regardless of the arrangement, storytime never started until everyone was settled, so no one missed any pages.

- towards the end of the clone wars everything with the riots is pretty much consistent with previous texts including the death of Felix Jeron at Carida Academy (where he was studying in order to change careers to one that did not as much lifting and manual labour due to the damage to his back)

- Cassian was found in the aftermath by a family friend and brought home

- The community became concerned that the republic and separatist forces would destroy their knowledge and heritage (intentionally or accidentally in the fighting) so Elena was assigned/volunteered to create copies of as much of the history, stories, wisdom and learnings of the ~500 years of Festian colonisation (the planet's people having originally discovered Fest as Kenari explorers, Kenari being both the name of the planet and the race of people) to take along with the transport ships and many of the citizens (especially children) to Kenari. The thought process was that Kenari had a larger population with which to protect the information and the children, whereas Fest was a series of small villages and one large town with a university, hospital and library and small spaceport. With only one really traversable path between all the villages and the town (located at the bottom a large mountain range) the Festians knew that the colony was largely indefensible and realised early on that their most precious and vulnerable would need to seek refuge on Kenari, should the war reach Fest.

- the plan had been for a series of 'cargo' transports to leave Fest as citizens were barred from leaving by the separatist forces (so they could be used as living shields if necessary) and the republic bureaucracy was such that application for refuge (especially from a separatist-aligned state) was virtually impossible.

- most families planned to have one parent leave with their children and family-knowledge (books, recipes, maps, written accounts, holos etc) while the other parent and remaining family stayed behind to fight and defend their homes and (in some cases) 20 generations of life's work.

- the transport that Elena was taking belonged to the same friend who rescued Cassian after Felix died and was to be loaded with the copied datacores from the library as well as rations and other supplies and was to ferry the Jerons as well as five other families to safety on Kenari. Elena was able to smuggle both her children and all the datacores onto the transport successfully (with the help of some individuals who would become the Festian Resistance) but received an emergency message from one of the other families saying they would not be able to make it. Elena refused to leave them behind, and hugged and kissed her children goodbye just in case, before leaving the transport to help the others. Her last words to Cassian and Kerri were: 'Whatever happens, I love you more than all the stars, your papa does too, and we will all be together again one day. Look after each other, be brave and above all, be kind.'

- Cassian watched through the window of the transport as his mother left, the remaining families boarded silently and in the dead of night and then as the last group approached the hanger with only the starlight to guide them. Cassian didn't see what happened but blaster fire broke out and the refugees appeared to be caught between republic and separatist forces. Elena appeared, running towards the transport with one of the other children in her arms, limping slightly from a blaster burn to her leg. She was close enough to look up at Cassian through the window one last time before a stray blaster bolt caught her in the back and another almost simultaneously hit the nearby fuel cannisters, engulfing the hanger in flames.

-the pilot fought back his own tears of grief and sorrow for his lost friends but knew he had a duty to protect his charges and took off for Kenari, dodging cannon fire on his way to the upper atmosphere. Despite his best efforts, the ship was damaged but still spaceworthy as they left Fest's orbit and he set coordinates for one of two short jumps to Kenari.

- After the first jump, the ship was in poor shape and the pilot was not confident it would survive the second so, now a safe distance from Fest, he activated the emergency transponder, which broadcast to all nearby ships requesting assistance

- unfortunately, the transponder was detected by a ship of particularly vicious pirates who docked onto the crippled refugee ship and attempted to board. All the adults except the pilot, who was trying to handle the situation from the cockpit, gathered at the docking port in defensive formation. In the subsequent fight, the docking tube was damaged, soon after which it ruptured completely, sending all the remaining combatants (pirate and refugee) into open space.

Despite the critical damage to his ship, the pilot was able to crash land on the surface of Kenari, near a large lake, but the cockpit took most of the damage due to its placement at the front of the ship upon descent. The pilot knew he would die on impact but did it anyway, saving his young charges one last time.

-many of the children had superficial injuries from the crash, but had gathered in the tiny escape pod on the pilot's instructions, which he launched in the opposite direction to the ship's trajectory, successfully reducing the velocity they would impact with to ultimately safe limits as one final act of brilliance, duty and love.

-the nine children, bruised, heartbroken and exhausted as they were, were found by a small group of teens, the scouting party of the Lakeside Clan. They were shepherded to the main camp where the injuries were treated as far as possible and they were accepted into the larger group.

- All children on Fest were at least bilingual -- learning Kenari Proper and the Festian Dialect from their earliest years. Galactic Basic was taught mostly from 'secondary school' equivalent as it broadened opportunities for tertiary education and scholarship. The Kenari language had evolved somewhat, especially the 'common' version but all Kenari children learnt Kenari Proper as well (in order to read, write and speak in official documents and forums such as universities, legislation and court proceedings) where Kenari Common was more like another derivative dialect and evolution of colloquialisms. For this reason, the Festian children could understand and be understood quite clearly in their new home though they continued to speak Festian among each other to preserve their own memories and stories, and as a comfort.

- two years later, the Republic had reformed into the Empire and the separatist movement seemed to have dissolved, but this fact was not broadcast to mid and outer rim planets which had no official affiliation or senate representation during the war (including Ferrix and Kenari) in an attempt to reduce panic and widespread protest (as was later seen on Ferrix when Imperial forces arrived) until the Empire's might could be solidified. This is why Bee, Maarva and Clem referred to the downed and incoming ship as 'Republic' (that being the official designation for the region) despite the clearly Imperial design and operational choices (cold blooded murder and such) which had become increasing violent and intolerant in the months since the reformation. Though the citizens did not have the name, they certainly noticed the difference (the republic having once been a firm, steady --if highly bureaucratic-- but mostly fair and just authority, now displaying cruelty and carnage apparently for the sake of power alone).

- In 16 BBY (nearly 3 years after Palpatine became emperor):

Maarva and Clem Andor were a couple of salvagers of 43 and 45 standard years old, respectively.

-They had both grown up on Ferrix and had been best friends since early childhood, as their respective older sisters became best friends on the first day of school.

They continued to be just friends as they grew up, each with aspirations to leave Ferrix temporarily to study abroad, having both been awarded fairly rare scholarships to study at the Naboo Academy of Sciences. Clem had deferred his own acceptance to go alongside Maarva who, despite being younger, was particularly brilliant and tenacious and had planned to study at NAS since she was twelve years old, just like her older sister who was, at the time, studying tirelessly for her own acceptance. (Due to the social structure laid out under the PreOx corporation, most citizens did not finish standard schooling until age 25 as they were expected to work a near full-time job in addition to their studies, in order to support themselves and their families from early teens)

These plans were brutally disrupted just after Maarva's own graduation and acceptance (a much celebrated event) by the Trade Federation's invasion of Naboo. Both Maarva and Clem's sisters were killed during the incursion and the NAS temporarily rescinded all scholarships as it attempted to rebuild after being near completely destroyed during the occupation.

At the resolution of the Invasion of Naboo, all students who were originally promised places at NAS were guaranteed entry to the courses to be held five or more years later (on the logic that rebuilding would be mostly completed by then).

Maarva and Clem's plans changed after that, they decided to work together and save money like crazy so that a decade from their original planned commencement, they could both support themselves (and their families) while studying. It was a good plan, and evolved into them going into business together as salvagers, working hard, living frugally and sharing their dreams as they had always done. They did not become a couple until they were 30 and 28 respectively, but that is a story for another time. Suffice to say, their sisters both would have laughed uproariously as they had been betting on such an outcome many years previously -- and the echoes of their joy always did seem to smile down from their places on the Wall.

- In an exceptionally ironic and cruel twist of fate, Maarva and Clem's plans to study were delayed yet again as the Separatist Crisis began and war raged across the galaxy. As a colony settlement and trade planet, Ferrix had no particular official allegiance as it did not have representation in any form of a senate (one of the reasons the PreOx corporation got away with so much) and this kept them sheltered from most of the fighting although the economy and standards of living still suffered woefully.

-The younger generation especially was forced to take increasingly risky jobs to provide for their families and keep the heating on through the icy Ferrix winter.

-Maarva and Clem were much adored through town especially in the years after their own parents passed as they put their own dreams on hold (never forgotten, just delayed) to support others in need within their community. Despite living very frugally themselves, they were two of the most generous souls, well known for providing food and shelter and a place on the sofa for anyone who came to them in need. They welcomed people without judgement or reservation and asked only that the 'debt' be paid forward whenever the unfortunate soul was able. They never locked the door, even when they were away on salvaging trips, incase someone needed a safe and sheltered place to stay. No one ever took advantage of this trust in any negative way.

- As busy as they were, working and contributing to the community especially through the Daughters and Honor Guard (in universe version of CWA and Men's Shed, with both being open to any gender and species equivalent although the vast majority of (humanoid) members did join the organisation which matched their sex assigned at birth), any thoughts of a family of their own sort of just...slipped. But by the end of the Separatist Crisis they both realised that despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, it was likely a case of 'now or never' and they decided to stop being quite so careful and just ... see what happened.

- A couple of years later, after tracking a 'Republic' (Imperial) ship to the tropical planet Kenari, they found a young boy, perhaps 8 years old, in the wreckage. Realising that he belonged to the group that had killed the officer outside the ship, and taking into account the inexplicable penchant for needless violence that the Republic forces had displayed of late, they knew that the child, if left alone, would likely be the first casualty of the bloodbath that was surely coming just minutes away.

They, along with their trusty droid companion Bee, took what haul they could carry, sedated the frightened boy and legged it back to their ship. As they took off for Ferrix, Maarva looked back to the child, confused and drowsy as he was waking, and gave a small, sad smile. Realised that her actions would change both their lives forever.

- It took a couple of days to find a translation subroutine compatible with Bee or their datapads at the refueling outpost halfway between Kenari and Ferrix which enabled effective, if stunted, verbal communication with the boy. Maarva and Clem caught each others eyes in horror and guilt as little Cassian was finally able to articulate to them why he was so distraught -- he had a younger sister back on Kenari. His responsibility to take care of her, he said. He promised mama, he said. The Andors raced back to Kenari, heedless of the risk, stopping only to refuel on the way. Little Cassian took their hands, having come to trust and seek comfort from the two warm and caring adults, especially once the language barrier was addressed. He lead them to the campsite by the lake. Maarva and Clem were wary, knowing that something terrible had most likely occurred in their absence and unwilling to have Cassian witness the result. They had no way of finding the camp or its people without him however, and no will to prevent him from trying to find his sister.

When they reached the camp, all that remained were smouldering ruins, blasterfire scars littering the rocks and trees. But thankfully no bodies.

Realising what had happened, little Cassian collapsed to his knees, silent tears streaming down his face. He staggered to his feet and ran across the clearing, systematically checking every nook and cranny, searching every branch of every tree, yelling for Kerri. Begging that she had found somewhere to hide. That they hadn't found her. She was small and quick and clever. She must be ok. Hours later, as nightfall rapidly approached, the exhausted child gave in. Kerri was not here. The monsters in hard shells with no faces had taken her and the others someplace else. Somewhere far away from her brother and their Clan.

The little boy walked slowly back towards the big man who knelt down as he approached. Cassian collapsed into Clem as sobs finally escaped his tiny form, tears hidden as he burrowed into the corner of Clem's shoulder and neck.

The three exhausted humans and one tired droid, his battery drained from constant scanning over the past several hours, stayed for a few minutes more until the sobs gave way to sniffles and the boy quietly, haltingly asked to leave the miserable remains of his former home.

- Cassian barely relinquished his grip on Clem's jacket for the entire week-long trek back to Ferrix, immediately latching back onto either him or Maarva as quickly as humanly possible

-By the time they reached Ferrix, and despite being near catatonic for most of the journey, Cassian could ask for Clem and Maarva and indicate a variety of other basic necessities such as hungry, thirsty, cold, tired.

As they landed in the shipyard, Cassian began to show more interest in his surroundings --fascinated by the wide open plains and the mountains made of scrap and metallic debris as opposed to the trees or rock and snow of either of his previous homes.

- Maarva and Clem forged the documents and told anyone who asked that Cassian had been born on Fest and left any mention of Kenari out to distance him and themselves from being potential witnesses to the destruction on Kenari and painting targets on their backs

- They never stopped searching for any mention of Kenari and it's children however, with Bee devoting much of his time and energy to discreetly sifting through public networks and restricted Imperial channels for any hint that may lead to finding Kerri and the others. Every possible lead was chased down in the old hauler to no avail and despite increasing financial difficulties.

- Over the next few years, Cassian Jeron Andor became known as the shy but curious little boy who followed either Clem, Maarva or Bee anywhere they went. Once his Basic improved, he attended school with the other children in town and became close friends with Bix Caleen. While still shy and quiet, he had an excellent brave face and did not back down from any challenge, physical or intellectual -- proving himself to be incredibly intelligent and reserved but cheeky and confident when the situation required it or when he was comfortable around his family and close friends.

- One of those friends was Brasso, a boy seven years Cassian's senior at nearly 16 when first they met. Brasso was the son of close family friends of the Andors and was seen as a nephew by Clem and Maarva who were also to be his designated guardians should any harm befall his parents.

Brasso always saw Cassian as more of a baby brother than a cousin and adored and protected him as such from the moment they met.

In fact, it was Brasso who was the original owner of Cassian's beloved toy bantha. Maarva and Clem had found the materials and stitched it together as a gift and a comfort object for their best friends' newborn son. After meeting Cassian for the first time, Brasso realised that the Andors now had a son of their own and gifted his much-loved Barny the Bantha (well-worn from years of cuddles as he was) back to Maarva to give to little Cass.

- While Cassian was learning Basic, he and Brasso developed their own hand-speak to communicate which they continued to use many years later when talking was too loud, intense or demanding. Cass would use some of the same signs with Clem and Maarva at times when speaking verbally was difficult as well.

- Cassian was 14 when the Empire came to Ferrix and killed Clem. He was imprisoned for 3 years after attacking the garrison in grief and retaliation, taking down 4 sentries, 6 other stormtroopers and 3 officers before being caught

- When he arrived home at 17, Cassian's untempered rage had distilled into icy fury and he had learned to compartmentalise his emotions, shutting down when they became too overwhelming and rarely letting anyone see beyond the protective facade. Maarva, Bix and Brasso became the exceptions to this but even opening up to them was rare.

- A year later, on a salvaging mission a long way from home, Maarva and Cassian entered the unsteady remains of a long since downed Republic cruiser. While they were inside, one of the rusty support beams gave way and a section of the structure fell. Maarva reacted instantly, shoving her now grown child out of harm's way, but was too late to move herself as well. As the structure collapsed, Maarva was caught, her leg crushed and several ribs and other bones broken. Cassian and Bee worked tirelessly to free her but by the time they made it to the tiny, ill-resourced medical centre at the closest outpost there was nothing they could do to prevent the damage to her organs or properly fix her leg without an even greater risk of death during the surgery.

Cassian left Bee to look after the ship and stayed by Maarva's bedside the entire week she was in the hospital, barely leaving (at her insistence) to shower and eat. While he kept a lonely vigil, Cass recalled the many nights Maarva and Clem had stayed awake, coaxing him back to sleep with their gentle voices and warm arms as he woke with nightmares so terrible no child should have to face.