#which seems like a whole other thing in itself

[doctorho]

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably. 

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him. 

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 

He grins against your skin. 

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

He swallows. “Yes.” 

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 

“Better keep quiet, then.” 

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) Hextech, the Anomaly Future, and Jayce's Hammer

One cool thing about the second hammer Jayce gets from the Anomaly future is it appears to have the opposite power of the hammer from his home universe.

The hammer Jayce forged and that is from his home universe seems to engage the Hexgem inside in order to make it weightless.

This follows the principles of his first experiments with Hextech, which were weightlessness and transportation.

In the Atlas Gauntlets and in his hammer, you can see how Jayce applied those principles to weaponry and tools. They are based on his original inspiration from the Mage who saved him, who made him and his mother weightless, and then transported them to safety.

These specific uses of Hextech by Jayce show a really fascinating understanding of how you could use weightlessness as a tool and then re-engage the weight to apply its full force, as seen with transporting ships at high speeds using the Hexgates, with Vi's gauntlets and here, with his hammer:

In contrast, it looks like Hextech in the Anomaly future works on the opposite principle. Rather than Jayce conceiving of Hextech to make the item it's put into weightless, it kinda looks like the beam from his hammer firing makes other things weightless and that Hextech in general might have worked like that throughout that universe:

See how all the pieces of architecture are floating, in what might be my single favorite shot from the whole show.

The effect from Jayce's hammer in the other universe is also inverted:

Where after he shoots the pillar, the pieces of it continue to float after. (By the way, the architectural feats you could accomplish if you had the power to make things weightless like that would be staggering.)

Jayce's hammer also stopped working when he went to the other universe, implying that Hextech doesn't work the same way there for some reason, perhaps because Jayce and Viktor innovated on it along different principles, or perhaps because the entire polarity is inverted in that universe so Hextech magic can only project outward instead of inward.

The fact that his alternate universe hammer doesn't have the weightlessness power at all further creates strain for Jayce when he needs to fight with it. In addition to having less muscle mass in general because of his time in the cave, and a permanently damaged leg, Jayce can't engage this hammer's power to become weightless the way he could in the Shimmer Factory fight, so he has to drag it along and throw all his weight into swinging it around:

Because the design of that hammer is basically an anvil on a stick when you can't engage the weightlessness. It's very cool looking but it is not fast anymore.

And one more note to end on, but Jayce throughout the show tends to innovate uses for Hextech along the same lines of weightlessness and transportation, all based on the original spells he saw his Mage use. You can see those innovations, as mentioned, in the Hexgates, the Atlas Gauntlets, Caitlyn's rifle which use the Hexgate runes to speed up the bullet, and his hammer.

Viktor by contrast innovates on a different path entirely, with the Hexclaw which is a beam of light and doesn't rely on weightlessness or transportation, which makes it truly innovative compared to the original inspiration of the Mage (who is... also Viktor...). And of course, the Hexcore itself, the machine learning/AI version of Hextech that as noted in the show, doesn't rely on using runes as single application tools like Jayce, a toolmakers, does.

[demonic0angel]

a mermaid anger management idea:

"Damian's orca is back," Jason deadpanned, looking at the black face in the water. The orca didn't really belong to Damian, but the boy had befriended it by feeding the thing fillets of fish before the sinking of their boat.

Jason tuned out Bruce's refusal for any more pets as the orca noseyed its way over to Damian's raft.

"Shadow," a voice whispered called from the water, sending the bats into high alert. The orca chirped in response and turned to look at whoever called him.

Jason followed its line of sight and spotted a flash of red moving in the water, "I think he brought a friend."

(A tear fell down my face when I saw this ask. I LOVE it when I can tell that people look at the stuff that I post. It got long bc I got so excited lmaoo)

Damian gasped. "Is that your name? Shadow?"

The newly named Shadow gave a soft cry. Then it turned and began to leave. Damian nearly fell out of the raft to follow it, which caused Jason to grab him by the waist before he could leave.

Shadow paused and then turned to look at him. Damian gave a grunt, elbowing Jason in the gut, before beckoning Shadow closer. "C'mere! It's okay, we won't hurt you. You can bring your friend too."

"Damian," Bruce groaned. Jason couldn't help but snicker at the exhaustion in his voice.

Shadow trilled and then swam closer again, allowing Jason to let go of Damian, who happily stroked the orca's snout and fed him more fish.

The red blur came moving back and then stopped underneath the raft. Jason stared at it, tilting his head thoughtfully before he said, "Hey, you can come up too if you'd like. We don't hunt anything but fish."

The red blob in the water seemed to have heard him, but didn't react. It wasn't until Damian repeated the same thing that it finally moved and swam up, breaking the surface of the water with a splash to drape itself over Shadow's back.

"Shadow, I told you to come," a sweet voice said and Jason's eyes widened at the large female Mer that was now gazing at them all with sharp turquoise eyes.

Shadow chirped, but everyone (but Damian, that crazy brat) flinched backwards and clapped their hands over their ears.

Mer were beautiful, humanoid creatures with beautiful singing voices that often lured humans to death. They were different from sirens, whose favorite food were humans, but they were no less dangerous when provoked.

This Mer looked large and long, with pale skin hidden under wet layers of crimson hair and a bright, turquoise tail. She stared at Jason blankly before looking at Damian.

"Little one, are you feeding Shadow?"

Bruce lunged forward to grab Damian, who was still at the edge of the raft, but Damian answered before anyone could stop him.

"Yes. They're really cute," Damian praised, rubbing at Shadow's nose again. "Would you also like some?"

The Mer blinked her wet eyes at him and then beamed. "Thank you." Damian fed her a sliver of fish and Jason nearly bashed his head over the raft's edge. How could his little brother have so little survival instincts in the face of a creature?!

Damian then asked, "Could we ask for help from you?"

Jason blurted out, "Damian! Do not!"

"Do not talk to her!" Bruce ordered.

The Mer turned to look at him and Bruce with a blank stare. Then she turned to Damian and nodded. "Of course. Shadow likes you, so I don't mind at least hearing you out."

"Our ship sank from the storm a few nights ago. Would it be alright if you helped us get to land? Preferably near a city."

The Mer hummed. "And in exchange?"

Jason grit his teeth and spoke up. "We can get fish for you. And I've heard that Merpeople like collecting the metalwork that we have. We can get you other things as well."

The Mer smiled. "Deal." She flicked her tail, scattering water droplets all over them. She looked at Jason and said, "You will help attach the raft to me."

Jason couldn't help but raise a challenging eyebrow. "You can pull the whole boat by yourself, princess?"

The Mer slid off of Shadow to swim over to him with a small smile. "I will have Shadow help me. And you will call me Jazz, little man."

"Jason," he said, gesturing to himself with a smirk, "And nothing about me is little." Jazz gave a little melodic laugh, narrowing her eyes at him.

They both stared at each other with intense gazes before Jason snapped out of it with a start, face reddening as both Damian and Bruce stared at him with completely identical looks of disgust and disbelief. Jason coughed.

"Uh. What do I need to do first...?"

Jazz chuckled, making Jason's face heat even more, and then she began to give orders around. Even Bruce sucked up his protests as he helped out. Damian didn't help for awhile as he just petted Shadow, but when Shadow left to be strapped to the raft as a lead, Damian stood up to help around.

Soon, they would be back on land.

[grammarpedant]

Thanks for activating my trap card, buddy. You see, I haven't actually explained how Gurathin is irrational yet. Now I'll show you.

First, let's be clear about what "irrational" means here. This post is not interested in whether his concerns were justifiable or understandable for the situation he's in. I am arguing that his arguments aren't logically sound, and are principally driven more by fear and unexamined belief in propaganda than solid evidence.

If the SecUnit is rogue, if its governor module is broken, then it can't be controlled. Gurathin theoretically knows this—"there is no control over its behavior," he says—and Volescu clarifies for the group that the governor module "can transmit commands, but can’t enforce them or control behavior or apply punishment." The governor module is the crux of the concern, the whole reason they're having this conversation—everyone in this conversation understands that much.

So then what's the basis for Gurathin to believe The Company is controlling it? His theory is that "It’s acting for the company" to sabotage them—but if it can't be controlled, then how is the company controlling it? Why would they not just give it orders as normal and then make whatever claims they want about its governor module later, rather than risking it doing Literally Whatever as a free agent this whole time? Like, is it a rogue SecUnit or is it a company tool? It can't be both.

Ah, but as a matter of fact, PresAux does know how a SecUnit might be controlled without a totally intact governor module... they know because Murderbot told them. Immediately prior to this scene:

“The unknown SecUnit inserted a data carrier, a combat-override module. It’s downloading instructions into me and will override my system. This is why the two DeltFall units turned rogue. You have to stop me.” [...] “You have to kill me.” [...] So I grabbed the handweapon lying on the seat, turned it toward my chest, and pulled the trigger.

I've cut out all the parts of Murderbot's narration to show you only what PresAux knows and can see. Gurathin, buddy. If the SecUnit is part of the sabotage, then why did it explain how the sabotage was done, and then instruct you all to kill it, and then try to kill itself?

He only even HAS the opportunity to find out that the SecUnit is rogue at all because it put itself in that vulnerable position, in the active pursuit of keeping PresAux alive. If it was part of a sabotage, that wouldn't make sense. If it was a malicious free agent, then that also wouldn't make sense. Any number of other actions would make more sense.

Let's say for the sake of argument that there's some kind of long con going on here. According to Gurathin at his most skeptical, its log "confirms... what the Unit believes happened." The logs seem to be more or less a record not only of what Murderbot does, but also what it thinks and believes. That's why it's worth it to go digging in Murderbot's brain for them. But if that's the case, then why doesn't Gurathin find any evidence of other suspicious behavior in the logs when he looked? Things Murderbot actually did to sabotage PresAux? Is it because the logs can be doctored? In that case, why wasn't the reference to previous murder removed? What, did the SecUnit need some kind of dramatic backstory to explain the governor hack when Pin-Lee et al. went to look at Murderbot's code, which wouldn't have been necessary if it had just murdered all the witnesses in the first place? Hell, why weren't references to its name, "Murderbot," removed, if the logs were part of a long con? It'd be a simple CTRL + F + replace all to get rid of something that would complicate an attempted manipulation. Either SecUnit's under the direct control of a malicious party that can make it believe anything, in which case this is a really bizarre, stupid long con they're playing here, or its logs are its own, and reality as a rogue SecUnit is messy.

Moreover, Gurathin's argument relies on the very logs he's skeptical of. How does he know that Murderbot is rogue, that it killed 57 clients previously? Because its logs say so. What do its logs also say? That it spends all its time watching Sanctuary Moon, and that it believes the mass murder was caused by the governor module malfunctioning, and so hacked it to prevent further murders. Corroborating the fact that the governor module can be corrupted is the existence of the combat module, code for which Pin-Lee JUST spent a lengthy procedure removing from Murderbot. Corroborating the fact that it does absolutely watch the soap operas is Ratthi. Corroborating the fact that it does want to prevent further murders is the continued survival of Bharadwaj and Volescu, of Mensah, Pin-Lee, Ratthi, and Overse, and the fact that, you know, it shot itself in the chest rather than give in to the combat override code. Murderbot's story is supported by evidence. Gurathin's argument for distrusting it is based on corporate propaganda and evidence cherry-picked from a source he can't decide is trustworthy or not.

And it's absurd to say that they don't really know it. They know enough. They know it's not a mindless robot, and that its human face shows how it feels despite its best attempts to hide it. They know it knows it's a slave, that it's being abused, and that it's uncomfortable with having attention drawn to that. They know that it's previously acted within the parameters of its job to keep them safe, that it's demonstrated self-control and rational action towards a goal. They know it's gone above and beyond for their safety, actively putting their lives before its own. And now they know it's a free agent. At bare minimum the evidence of its prior actions show that it's worth negotiating with, that it is a rational actor with opinions and desires that can be used to persuade it that its interests align with PresAux's.

But let's say for the sake of argument that even despite all the compelling evidence that Murderbot is a person who can be trusted, or at least a person who can be negotiated with, that's not enough to outweigh the possibility that maybe it'll sell them all out for some reason, or kill them randomly because of whatever. Let's say that the lives of the in-group are worth more than the potential danger of trusting an out-group individual. Okay. Then the rational thing to do would have been to kill it before it could wake up. "I've had HubSystem immobilize it" with what, Gurathin? How is HubSystem immobilizing it? Why is the governor module so important if all it takes to neutralize a rogue SecUnit is having HubSystem immobilize it. How do you know HubSystem is safe if the SecUnit isn't. You dumbass, Gurathin, do you think you've succeeded where all the victims of past alleged mass murders had failed? You think as long as you control things, everything will be okay? Or is it just that the little part of you that has internalized Preservation's belief in the sanctity of life flinches from the idea of murder?

If Gurathin's fear, prejudices, and cynicism had been right, his irrationality would have gotten him and his teammates killed.

No, the rational move, especially for someone who draws the line at murder, is to negotiate. Parlay. Talk it out. We can call it "manipulation" if we struggle with the belief that nonviolence is naive. Put simply, if the SecUnit is a person, it can be influenced or even controlled the way people can be: with shows of good faith, with bribes and threats, with emotion, with convincing logic, with propaganda. If you're good at getting people to do what you want them to do, it's not hard to get a read on a person who's never dealt with other people as a person before and tie their self-interest and self-concept to your goals. Study up on abuse and indoctrination tactics if you don't understand what I mean, or crack open a corporate management handbook. If you care more about getting out alive than anything else, then THAT'S the smart play here! Talking like it might still randomly murder them for ??? reasons is not only insulting to its personhood, but a stupid waste of the good faith and strong opening position generated by showing that PresAux was willing to save its life in return. Mensah had the right idea—that (and the fact that she is a principled person who would never actually stoop to psychological abuse) is why she is the voice of reason and direction in this scene.

And finally, let me talk about what those prejudices are that make Gurathin appear rational to a reader in the real world.

Why do we assume that propaganda about SecUnits as mindless killers that have to be controlled from a known-untrustworthy source should be so compelling over hard, experiential data regarding the behavior of an individual? Because that's how racist, prejudicial logic works in the real world. You work backwards from a received assumption about, say, the dangers of immigrants or angry Black people, and everything either supports the conclusion, or is an exception to the conclusion that can be discarded.

Why do we assume that the best way to deal with a dangerous SecUnit would be to remove its bodily autonomy indefinitely? Because that's how carceral logic and retributive justice work in the real world. Some people are inherently Bad and deserve abuse, and if they aren't tightly controlled, they'll hurt other people because that's just what they do. Because if an abuse victim had the same power to harm as you do, or heaven forbid MORE power, then the first reasonable, justified course of action is to react with violence. Because if someone who's been abused gains power, of course they will treat us the way we treated them and take violent revenge. And we don't want that, our comfort and safety matter more than theirs.

Don't get me wrong, the way Gurathin acts in this scene is very understandable. It speaks to us as a reasonable response because fear of death and fear of the stranger are very deeply human experiences, and so is panicking in the face of that fear, so is jumping to conclusions, so is lashing out, and so is trying to maintain control or the appearance of control to cope with a bad situation. We've all done similar. We all have prejudices we have to unlearn because the purpose of prejudice is to make it easier and less effort-intensive to figure out who to trust and who not to trust, to keep us safe when things get dicey. But that doesn't make the logic of fear and prejudice rational or right. In fact it's pretty irrational when you look at it closely.

No, in fact, it's the rest of PresAux who actually looks at the evidence that they have access to regarding Murderbot and its trustworthiness, weigh it logically, and make the rational decision to trust it. They do this despite the prejudice and propaganda, despite Gurathin's jumping to conclusions, despite even Murderbot's own distrust in itself.

Because Murderbot, a literal product of the Corporation Rim, has internalized the same prejudicial thinking, carceral logic, and retributive justice that we have, for much the same reasons: because that's how you live and survive in a dehumanizing system that perpetuates those things. We're biased by its perspective, yes, by its obvious personhood, its dry humor and care for humans despite itself, etc, but Murderbot's narrative is also itself biased by these same cruel beliefs as many of us have internalized in our real lives. Remember, it believes Gurathin is reasonable. Murderbot really truly deep down believes that it's One of the Bad Ones, that rogue SecUnits are killers and the only way to deal with them is to kill them first, that the safety of the human in-group comes before any out-group, that trust and vulnerability will get you killed.

And Murderbot is wrong, too. PresAux was right to take a chance on it. Not only were they right, it was the rational, logical choice to make. Because they put their trust in it, because Mensah and the others took the time to connect with it as a person, they get a far more powerful ally out of Murderbot than they would get a tool, and PresAux survives with 100% of members because Murderbot rises to meet their trust with everything it has. Challenging its deeply-held cynical beliefs is one of the fundamental themes of both All Systems Red and of the series as a whole: Empathy and compassion are not just good moral principles, but a rational approach to survival and building a better world.

Gurathin is not only wrong, his argument is fundamentally irrational

Gurathin's argument in ASR:

We need to immobilize this SecUnit stat, because it's going to kill us.

I know it's going to kill us because its logs show that it's rogue. If there is no way to control it, then it is dangerous to us.

It is controlled by the Company to sabotage us. "The missing hazard report, the missing map sections. The SecUnit must be part of that." If it wasn't, that would be a coincidence, which is unbelievable.

This SecUnit has gone rogue and killed people in its charge before. It may do so again.

PresAux's counterargument:

It may be rogue, but that doesn't logically mean it will kill us. "The fact that the Unit has been acting to preserve our lives, to take care of us, while it was a free agent, gives us even more reason to trust it." (Volescu)

Someone may be sabotaging us, but that doesn't logically mean it's the Company or our SecUnit. "There were only three SecUnits for DeltFall in their specs, but there were five units in their habitat. Someone is sabotaging us, but I don’t think our SecUnit is part of it." (Ratthi)

If the SecUnit was trying to sabotage us, then why would it tell us about the combat module sabotage and shoot itself? (Bharadwaj, Overse)

The SecUnit believes it went rogue as a result of malfunction, and that hacking its governor module would prevent a repeat occurrence. Confirmation of its sincerity comes from the same logs that Gurathin accessed for his arguments. (Volescu)

Gurathin's counter-counterargument:

Well it gave itself an edgy nickname

[quirkwizard]

On the Matter of Quirk Counseling

So one of the hot-button issues of the fan base is the subject of Quirk Counseling. That it's this horrific practice done to "deviants" like Himiko to make them normal, and it's what turned her into the person she is today. And with the ending, people thought that Uraraka working to spread it out over the country was a terrible thing and was only going to make more problems. Naturally, this is something I disagree with. At least, to the extent the fanbase takes it.

We're told that Quirk Counseling is a program that helps the youth understand and adjust to living in modern society. However, as we see with Himiko and her flashbacks, this kind of process can end up isolating people who don't fit in with that society. A pretty grim perspective on the world. However, I don't think it's the most reliable one. This is the kind of perspective we get from Chitose, who is someone who is radically opposed to how society handles Quirks and wants to destroy it, and Toga, someone who was hurt by this same process. So I think that paints a specific picture of the practice. One that may not be entirely true.

Because in spite of being such a big part of a major villain, we know very little about what Quirk Counseling entails. We're told by Midnight that every kid goes through Quirk Counseling during elementary school. So every character in the series must have undergone this same process at some point. During Tamaki's flashback, we see something like this going on in middle school. People being taught how to use their Quirks, at least in a basic way. This is later reinforced during the Remedial Course Arc, where the whole point is the heroes helping to teach kids about their powers. All in all, it doesn't seem that terrible, and it seems to work with a lot of people in the world.

This all paints a different picture of what exactly Quirk Counseling entails. Because when we see it in action, it's mostly just teaching people how to use their Quirks and helping them understand their own powers. Which isn't a bad thing. Quirks can be very dangerous and wild, even from a young age. It's important you know how it works, whether it be how it functions or how to use it. Better yet, how not to use it. Because, as we have seen, the unchecked usage of Quirks is going to be dangerous for everyone involved. Values like this need to be put into kids at a young age to keep any kind of peace or stability in the broader world. And it seems to work.

Himiko is an odd case within the world. Someone whose Quirk had a potent effect on their interests and personality, more so than any other person we've seen. She is an outlier. A deviant. Yet she was still a little girl that needed help. Maybe, if she had gotten the right help, she wouldn't be the person she is today. And that is part of the tragedy of Himiko. That the concept of normality has been so enforced that they can't even hope to properly help Himiko. The problem wasn't the system itself. The problem came in its inefficiency to handle cases like Himiko. Outliers that couldn't handle possibly fit within the brackets of "normal." And when all that pressure comes down on someone, they will eventually break under it.

It's why I don't think that Quirk Counseling growing is the problem everyone tries to make it out to be. Uraraka's helping to expand the system that is meant to help and teach kids about their powers. We've seen how that can help troubled kids. The Remedial Course is the prime example of that, where it's something that works with the kids rather than trying to strongarm them. And with that system growing, it will help to prevent cases like Himiko. It can help the kids learn about themselves and their powers. It can show kids not how to be "normal." But what they're going through isn't something they have to be afraid of and can live with. Just as Himiko could have. Expanding this isn't disrespecting her. It's keeping other kids to suffer like she did.

[aspentreewrites]

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 3

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, fake dating, only one bed, general angst and pining, realising feelings, Cody is having a breakdown, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: Oh, Cody, we're really in it now. Happy holidays! It's been a tough end to the year, but everyone who's been so kind and left such lovely comments on here and on my AO3 have really been keeping me going :') thank you so much for reading so far!

As always, thank you so much to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 link here) for beta reading!

Wordcount: 8.9k

Prev chapters: 1, 2

✷✷✷✷✷

The General and the Commander get a good deal of work done together that evening.

Their first order of business is checking in with Gregor about the state of the files they’d sent across - it seems they’re encoded, which isn’t much of a surprise, and will take a little while to fully decipher. A few select members of the 212th who can be trusted to keep quiet are already on it, and expect to have it cracked within the week.

Next comes the important affair of discussing the follow-up steps of the mission, particularly how they’re going to proceed with information gathering after facing Barrek directly, in a… less than subtle encounter. They aren’t able to come to a definite conclusion this evening.

Finally, they once more go over their guesses on what the deal they’re here to disrupt is actually likely to be. Knowing that it’ll be weapons related helps narrow it down, but not by much.

They trade dry comments about the state of things, about how much they’re already looking forward to getting back to normality once this is over. Obi-Wan makes a few comments about the state of the room’s provided caf machine - though he’s quick to mention that it’s still above the standard of some of the GAR-supplied requisitions.

The one thing they don’t speak of, is the kiss. 

A few times throughout the night the odd, thick tension rears its head. Cody catches the Jedi’s eyes lingering on him with a strange expression more than once, always glancing away when their gazes meet. 

Each time, it makes Cody wince. White, hot shame crawls across his skin before he has the time to shove it down, prickling beneath his collar. Cody knows - Force, how he knows - that Obi-Wan sensed more than he should have, earlier. To call it ‘mortifying’ would be an understatement.

It’ll pass, he tells himself. A lapse of judgement and concentration that he can make up for by performing professionally and exceptionally in the field, as often as he can from this point onwards. 

With any luck, his General will have pity on him and forget about the whole thing.

Rather robotically, Cody finds himself getting ready for bed that night. He goes through the motions of getting changed, all the while trying very, very hard to not think back to the feeling of Obi-Wan’s mouth on his. 

Stars above, he’s never been kissed so carefully, so gently. 

Because it wasn’t real, the voice in his head reminds him, sounding particularly bitter. Because it was a strictly professional necessity.

The thought makes his stomach twist, his heart aching with a longing that he knows, intrinsically, will be incredibly tricky to sate. It’s one thing to have feelings for someone, knowing they can never be acted upon… it’s another thing entirely to experience a taste of what could be, if only everything were different.

If not for the fact that Cody is certain that it’s unrequited, if not for the war…

Cody can’t help but let out a heavy sigh. If not for the war, he wouldn’t exist at all. The reminder is a lead weight upon his soul, albeit an old and familiar one. 

He’s a man whose hands were engineered to be bloody, he’s come to be at peace with that.

Despite it all, sometimes he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be nat-born. To exist for the sole purpose of living, not for taking life.

To be someone that could be allowed to love, and be loved in return.

Perhaps that version of Cody, unburdened by the war and the weight of expectation, would have the courage to go after the things he wants.

To tell Obi-Wan how he feels…

Cody wrinkles his nose. He’s being far too sentimental and dramatic over something that doesn’t need to be such a big deal. They’re just… feelings. He can live with that.

The two men settle in to attempt sleep that night, firmly keeping to their opposite sides of the bed. An unspoken rift of tension has opened up between them, and Cody doesn’t quite know where to start in broaching it. 

Perhaps the morning will bring clarity. It usually does.

With a deep exhale, the Commander closes his eyes, willing himself to shut off his mind and rest. 

The moons have risen high enough in the sky by now that their light permeates gently through the thin curtains of the hotel room, creating a uniquely soothing atmosphere. 

Cody, like most of the vode, is far more used to the artificial darkness of a sleeping pod than natural moonlight. Some of his brothers struggle to relax under the light of the real stars, finding it far too bright, but never him. In his mind, no fluorescent recreation is ever a substitute for the real thing.

He focuses on that light, on the repetitious sound of waves lapping at the shore outside, and allows himself to let go, as much as he is able.

When the morning comes, Cody isn’t afforded the luxury of a gentle awakening.

Rather, the sound of a scream startles him into consciousness. His hand moves without deliberate input, closing around the blaster on his nightstand even before his eyes have fully opened. When they do, his gaze is sharp, deadly - a trained killer, alert and hunting for the enemy. 

… The enemy that appears to be a distressed child outside who’d dropped their ice cream. 

With a slow exhale, Cody’s grip on the pistol loosens, setting it back down as his shoulders slump, just a little. 

He glances around the room as his heart rate calms, his eyes settling on the source of the sound - the open balcony door, much wider than they’d left it last night. That’s odd.

His gaze automatically shifts to Obi-Wan in concern - or, rather, where Obi-Wan should be. Instead, he finds himself staring at an empty side of the bed. 

The Jedi being up before him explains the balcony being open at least, though Cody can’t deny that the smallest flicker of disappointment that wells up within him at the sight. 

He tamps it down swiftly.

Cody has kicked himself into his normal alertness, showered and dressed for the day by the time the Obi-Wan returns. The other man is as calm and steady as he always seems to be, balancing two bowls in the crook of one arm and two mugs of caf in another as he steps through the threshold of their room. 

For the briefest of moments, Cody stills, quietly remembering that he doesn’t quite know how to approach today. 

And then Obi-Wan turns to face the door behind him with a scrunched brow, and any hesitation in Cody is immediately overridden by the sight of his general in need of rescue.

“Had a trip to find breakfast?” he finds the words to ask, heading over to offer aid for the precarious crockery situation. Obi-Wan hums appreciatively in response, gratefully allowing the other man to take a bowl and both mugs from him, slipping the door closed with his now-free hand.

“Thank you. Yes, I bought some fruit from the kitchens downstairs. They were supposed to be complementary, apparently, but they still somehow weaseled some credits from me. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Ah, so they’re pretending that nothing happened last night. Cody finds himself considerably relieved - he can work with that.

“Beats ration bars,” he returns with a shrug, eyeing the offerings with cautious interest. Even if the rest of the food here was definitely over-complicated and over-priced, they surely couldn’t go too wrong with preparing fruit. He sets the mugs on the sideboard to better investigate.

“... How did they get you to give them money?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “The staff said it was a ‘charitable donation’.”

Cody can’t help the way his mouth twitches into a smirk..

“Uh-huh.��

“... To go towards their Life Day bonuses.”

“There it is.”

Obi-Wan frowns, looking defensive even as he pops a grape into his mouth. 

“If they say it’s for charity, I can’t very well go ignoring their request,” he protests, waving a hand in front of him as if to illustrate his point. “And they’re likely being underpaid anyway, so it’s simply good manners–”

Cody snickers, shaking his head and giving his Jedi a fond grin. “Mm, no, absolutely,” he agrees, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Which reminds me, sir, I have a bridge to sell you on Corellia, actually–”

Obi-Wan does his best to not look impressed, though his eyes betray him as they always do, lighting up in mirth. “Oh, hush, you.”

Cody can’t hide his amusement, even as he attempts an imploring expression.  “It really is a fantastic piece of architecture, though. And at such a reasonable price…”

He trails off as he sees the fond exasperation painting Obi-Wan’s features. It’s one of the other man’s signature countenances, and one he’s been on the receiving end of many times over the years. He doubts he’ll ever get sick of it.

“So,” the Jedi starts pointedly, steering the conversation to more practical topics. “The finalised agenda for today.”

Cody nods, taking a bite of a piece of fruit as his expression turns more serious. It’s one he’d seen growing on the native trees here during his excursions through the grounds yesterday - bright pink and not dissimilar to an apple, but decidedly more sour. He thinks he likes it. 

“Right. We’re hoping to intercept Barrek at 1030 hours,” he recites easily, shrugging slightly at the Jedi’s request to go over all of this again.

Cody is a man who prides himself on his strategic prowess - it’s entirely good practice for he and Obi-Wan to cover the mission details whenever they have downtime, he’s aware of this.

… All the same, this isn’t a battlemap with three chokepoints, a hundred enemies, and countless potential flanking positions to watch out for. This linear-style of plan is as simple as it gets.

“While he’s booked a slot on the local tour,” Obi-Wan adds, stroking a hand over his beard in thought. Cody’s eyes track the movement idly. 

“For some reason.”

The Jedi hums. “It seems as if he’s treating every moment that he’s not involved in intergalactic crime as a legitimate holiday.”

Cody huffs at the thought. It doesn’t seem particularly likely to him that someone preparing to take down the Republic would be so relaxed as to go around sightseeing like a normal tourist - but then again, he supposes he’s not really got an insider look on the proclivities of terrorists. 

“Perhaps,” he responds, though his tone is doubtful. “So we tag along on the tour to watch Barrek, see if he tries to slip away, or takes any extra notice in concealed coves or hideaways. What comes after that…?”

Obi-Wan finishes off his bowl of fruit, placing down the dish on a small side table. “Lunch, I suppose,” he says evenly, checking the chrono on his wrist.

Now it’s Cody’s turn for exasperation.

“I meant with Barrek,” he clarifies. He reaches for a cup, taking a sip of his caf. The warmth of the mug in his hands is a grounding sensation, the same here as it always is during their morning meetings, wherever they may happen. It’s a pleasant constant to be drawn back to.

“Well, I imagine he’ll be eating lunch too,” Obi-Wan muses, “perhaps we might be able to do so together, hm?”

Cody raises a brow.

“You’re certain that’s wise? Won’t he remember, well… everything from last night?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “I daresay I’m counting on it, Commander.”

Now that catches Cody’s attention. He gestures for Obi-Wan to continue, and the Jedi steeples his fingers together, a plan already put together in full, it seems.

“We introduce ourselves with an apology for our drunken impropriety last night, and tell him that we recognise him from previous Pyke dealings. He’ll be irritated by us, but intrigued. Play up the oblivious angle and he might just spill something about the deal tonight.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Cody’s brow pinches in a frown, already going over the thousands of ways that such a direct ploy might backfire. “Wouldn’t announcing our intentions like that be an incredibly suspicious move?”

Obi-Wan shrugs, clearly an old hand at this social game by now.

“Then he writes us off as oblivious and unsubtle smugglers - they’re a credit a dozen in a system like this. A spy would never be quite so direct.” He finishes off his own mug of caf, glancing at Cody with a sly twinkle in his eye.

“Never,” Obi-Wan starts, his tone indicative of an incoming lesson, “underestimate the value of someone believing you to be a harmless fool.”

Cody can’t help but chuckle. “That’s usually Skywalker’s gambit, as I recall.”

“And just who do you think he learned it from?” Obi-Wan responds lightly, giving Cody a friendly pat on the shoulder. The Jedi taps his chrono, before turning to grab his coat from the nearby hook. “Now, we’d best be off, my dear. I believe we have a tour to catch.”

Cody nods, rolling his shoulders as he slips on his own jacket. Once more into the fray by each other’s side. 

The lingering nervousness of the need to uphold his alias remains, though with the success of last night, Cody has to say his confidence has grown, just a little.

He offers Obi-Wan a small smile as they step out into the corridor, offering him his arm to take in a moment of boldness. 

He knows he probably shouldn't indulge like this, and it'll likely only serve to make his predicament worse, but he can't find it in himself to care as he feels Obi-Wan's arm slip into his own, the Jedi's warmth steady and reassuring.

“It seems we do.”

______________________________

The tour of the curated grounds outside of the hotel ends up being as much of a waste of time as the both of them had suspected - not that they’re here to sightsee, but the Jedi and Commander still can’t help but make muttered comments to one another under their breaths with every egregious claim made by their guide.

The worker giving the tour has a veritable litany of diplomatically worded stock phrases about the history of the planet that they cycle though, obscuring the planet’s history as a corporate bidding ground and making it sound more like a ‘paradise’ that happened to be discovered by their company’s founder. The word ‘colonisation’, in particular, is very carefully tiptoed around.

At least some of the views are worth appreciating.

From their position at the back of the group, they maintain a watchful eye on Barrek, noting anything he seems to be paying particular attention to, any moment that could possibly give him means to slip away unnoticed.

… And Cody has to begrudgingly admit that it does, in fact, seem like the man is here to enjoy himself - it looks like he’s genuinely interested in the things the tour guide is saying. Force knows why.

As the event is wrapping up and the group is beginning to disperse, the two men share a glance and a subtle nod. Now or never.

Obi-Wan and Cody make their pre-planned approach, catching up to their target before he can disappear out of their sight. The Jedi clears his throat.

“Atashe Barrek?”

The Rodian’s shoulders stiffen, and the man turns, eyeing the two warily. Obi-Wan puts on a bright, easy grin, offering a friendly wave as he steps over. “It’s Renne. From that party for the Syndicate, back on Oba Diah? I knew I recognised you when we talked last night!”

Bold, bold move. Barrek lurches forwards as Obi-Wan says just the right amount of ‘too much’, the Rodian’s hand reaching out to grasp him by the lapel of his coat. Cody tenses, but taking his cue from his General, doesn’t move to intercept the attack. Still, he feels his shoulders draw up, body coiled like a spring even as he tries not to show it.

“Keep. Your voice. Down,” Barrek hisses, his fist tightening in the fabric. Cody makes note of the four different ways he could break the Rodian’s wrist from this position if things get ugly, his entire focus narrowed down to the threat currently being presented. It’s a nice fantasy, if nothing else - the sight of someone manhandling the Jedi like this irks him, and he itches to act.

Obi-Wan can handle himself, Cody knows this, but it’s his job above all else to handle things for him so he doesn’t have to. 

During a particularly intense confrontation, Ventress had once referred to him as Kenobi’s trained attack dog. It was meant to be a disparaging comment, he’s sure, something intended to deny him of his agency - Obi-Wan’s eyes had flashed with something uncharacteristically dangerous at the comparison -  but in the moment, Cody couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

So he’s an attack dog, then - good. Obi-Wan is his charge, and it’s his duty to go down fighting with bloodied claws and teeth, ensuring that he takes the hits in the other man’s place. 

The small thrill he gets from the thought is probably not wholly borne from the loyalty trained into him since decanting - though Cody finds it easier to pretend that’s all that it is.

There’s no Commander Cody without a General Kenobi to protect. It’s simply the way of the Galaxy.

The Jedi placidly smiles as Barrek’s grip loosens and eventually lets go, Cody’s hackles lowering reluctantly as he does so. A small, irrational part of him almost wanted the Rodian to push, just for an excuse to put him in his place. It would certainly be more comfortable than playing nice.

“Ah, of course, of course. Secrecy, got it,” Obi-Wan murmurs, the vacant grin still plastered on his face as he taps the side of his nose conspiratorially.

Cody forces on a smile too, though his gaze is probably still a little too sharp on the man who’s far too comfortable with putting his hands on Obi-Wan. 

He sucks in a quiet breath as he feels a foreign, yet soothing rush of calm entering his mind, no doubt courtesy of his Jedi sensing the tension that runs through him. 

Cody allows it to seep into him, relaxing his shoulders and reminding himself that even without their usual access to their weapons, they still have the advantage here. His eyes meet Obi-Wan’s for the briefest of moments, silently thanking him for the assist.

Barrek takes a step back to brush himself off, though he’s still clearly irritated. He glances around rather conspicuously to check no one else is listening in, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Good. Who are you and why do you know me?” he growls, voice low.

Obi-Wan blinks, managing an incredibly convincing look of offense. “You don’t remember? Really, Atashe, I would have thought you would.” 

At Barrek’s ensuing blank stare, he elaborates, “Renne and Vidarr Emerin. We were at the Pyke Palace - the soiree last year? We were speaking to Lom himself when you were passing, and I said–”

At the mention of the leader of the Syndicate, Barrek pales. 

Cody holds his breath. If their words are being believed here, then Obi-Wan has made them out to potentially be incredibly important. This could all come tumbling down terrifyingly easily.

“Right– right,” Barrek interrupts, nodding vigorously. “I, ah– I remember now,” he lies. “Yes, at the, uh, mid-year party, right? I had drunk a lot, so that was why I didn’t immediately…” he trails off, eyes darting between them, evidently trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, unaware that the two men in front of him are playing chess instead.

“Of course, of course,” Obi-Wan returns brightly, clapping a hand on Barrek’s shoulder. “Now, you were on your way to the buffet before I interrupted you, right? How about we join you for lunch?” 

The Rodian isn’t quite as adept at concealing his grimace as Cody imagines he intended to be.

“I… already arranged for company,” he says with a frown, his discomfort palpable. Obi-Wan’s smile grows brighter, clasping his hands together in delight. 

“Well, more colleagues to meet sounds perfect! Lead the way.”

There’s not really much Barrek can do with that level of social ineptitude. As frustrated as he clearly is, Obi-Wan has done a skilful job of getting across that ‘Renne’ does run in the same circles as him, and the Rodian has no way of knowing how important they are to the Pykes, meaning he has to play nice just in case.

Barrek blinks, bewildered, not quite realising that he’s been expertly backed into a corner.

“... Uh, fine. It’s… Yeah, this way.” 

Cody and Obi-Wan share a glance behind the Rodian’s back as he begrudgingly gestures for them to follow him inside. The Jedi has a distinctive triumphant gleam in his eye, but Cody suspects it’s a little too early to call victory just yet.

The real work starts now.

______________________________

Barrek leads the two of them through to a small table at the resort’s pop-up buffet for today’s lunch, awkwardly introducing the two of them to an apparent girlfriend, a Togrutan woman named Lia. 

It’s admittedly strange that their intelligence hadn’t mentioned her at all, and from Cody’s memory, there was no hint of a second person staying in Barrek’s hotel room last night. Not enough reason to outright be suspicious, but definitely something to keep track of.

Despite his reservations, he offers her what he hopes is an easy smile as they settle down to eat.

Obi-Wan takes a seat across from Barrek, wasting no time in starting conversation about their ‘mutual’ line of work. 

Cody is content to let the Jedi take the lead in conversation, his eyes tracking the lunch hall around them as subtly as he can. It’s not particularly busy in here right now, but they’re not exactly in the most secluded of spots… if someone were to attempt to listen in, they’d find it all too easy.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by Lia reaching across the table and tapping him lightly on the arm.

“The two of you are together, then?” she asks with a smile, inclining her head towards Obi-Wan.

It takes Cody a moment to register what she’s asking. Ah. Here they go. Time to actually play the role he’s been preparing for for the past few weeks.

He glances to where Obi-Wan is still very much engaged in conversation with Barrek, wincing internally. Looks like he’s on his own.

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, finding a tone that feels too light and airy to be natural to him. “Married, actually,” he adds, gesturing to the band on his ring finger. 

Lia seems to be expecting him to say something else in the ensuing pause, so he offers a small smile. “We’re… here on our anniversary.” 

Lia actually sighs at that, resting her head on her hand and smiling dreamily.

“Oh, how sweet. I figured it must have been a special occasion for the two of you,” she practically coos. Cody raises a brow.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you the other night. The two of you are just so…” she shrugs, eyes sparkling. “... In love, really.” She leans in, giving him a playfully conspiratorial nudge. “I wish Barrek would look at me like that.”

Cody lets out a strangled laugh, the sound more one of a desperate need to cover his surprise than anything else. He takes a sip of his drink, trying to stall out the need for a response. How had they been looking at each other, exactly?

“I, uh, I suppose we got lucky,” he manages to say after a moment, hearing the way his voice comes out a tiny bit strained, though luckily Lia doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Keep talking, Cody, Vidarr would not shut down on this topic, he reminds himself, trying to keep his calm as much as possible. “Closest thing to soulmates someone could get, I’d say.”

“Yeah?” Lia prompts, twirling the end of one of her lek around her finger. She’s enraptured, which Cody is grateful for, because it means he’s being believable enough - but it’s also absolutely terrible, because it means he’s going to have to improvise more.

“Well, y’know…” Cody starts, glancing sidelong to Obi-Wan, who’s currently leant back against the chair lazily as he talks shop with Barrek. He finds a strange sense of sureness wash over him as he takes a moment to just… look. Talking about being partners with someone. He thinks he can do that. He turns back to Lia with another smile, this one more certain than his previous attempts.

“We just… fit, I suppose,” he says with a shrug, his voice soft, thoughtful. “A good duo. Not just the, uh… romantic stuff. We’re close friends, allies first and foremost.”

He pauses to take another sip of his drink, feeling his heart ache slightly, tugged on by some invisible (but far too familiar), force. For once, he thinks, it could be helpful. He doesn’t push it away.

“It’s what makes it so special, you know? I know there’s nothing I can go through that he wouldn’t have my back for, and he feels the same about me. It’s…” Cody looks down at the band on his finger, his expression turning more pensive. “It’s only been a few years, but I can’t imagine anyone else being by my side. Being that… primary person that I turn to when I need advice, or… just company, really.”

He falls quiet for a moment, reflecting on the truth of the words. How much of this is him trying to play as Vidarr, and how much is real? It’s all tangled up in his mind, an inextricable knot of uncertainty.

“... That’s love,” Lia responds softly, giving him a warm smile.

Cody blinks. “Is it? I–” he meets Lia’s gaze again, scrambling to not blow his cover. “It– it is, I mean. Love.” 

He lets out a steadying breath, focusing on making a recovery, and not on the way his heart has picked up its pace violently.

Is that what love is?

 “I think I just forget that not everyone has something like this,” he says, forcing on the smile again. “It becomes so normal after a while. Background noise.”

Lia offers him a wry smile, her eyes landing on Barrek briefly, something like sadness etched there for the briefest of moments.

“Would that we all could be so fortunate,” she murmurs, her finger idly tracing the rim of her glass.

She smiles something bright and fake as Barrek turns back to face her, slinging an arm over the back of her chair.

“Ready to go, babe,” the Rodian announces, and the two ‘couples’ stand from the table, bidding their goodbyes. Obi-Wan goes in for a hug, which Barrek uncomfortably rebuffs.

‘It’s not laying it on too thick if it works’, Obi-Wan had told Cody earlier, blatantly enjoying the idea of playing the fool a little too much.

The man was right, Cody concedes, watching the way Barrek rolls his eyes as soon as they think they’re out of sight. ‘Renne’ seems to have been relegated to ‘harmless idiot’ status in the Rodian’s eyes, just as they’d planned.

Obi-Wan takes Cody’s arm once again as they head outside. The Commander forces down the distracting, odd feeling in his chest that has been lingering from the conversation with Lia, pushing it away to deal with later. Much, much later, if he has anything to say about it. His deathbed, perhaps, when he’s old and only has half of his memories left anyway.

… Although, Cody imagines he’s kidding himself with the notion that he’ll get to live that long in the first place.

“Success?” he asks the Jedi, attempting to shake off his persistent discomfort as the two head to the resort’s gardens to speak privately.

Obi-Wan nods. “He was incredibly resistant to saying more than he needed to, but all the same…” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking considerably self-satisfied. “They’ll be meeting at 9:30pm tomorrow. I’m not certain where, but we can trail Barrek if we’re careful.”

Cody lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“I don’t know why I was worried. Good job.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “It was purely luck, I assure you, but I appreciate it nevertheless.”

They pause for a moment to watch as a sparrow flutters overhead to land at a nearby birdfeeder. A small moment of peace after the emotional chaos of the last twenty minutes.

Beside him, Obi-Wan’s head tilts a little, a warm expression gracing his features.

“And you did excellently, too. Not that I could pay attention to the entirety of your conversation, but it looked like you dealt with Lia confidently,” he compliments. Watching Cody’s response carefully, he adds, “I do not, of course, wish to patronise. I only mention it as I knew you were nervous about the ordeal.”

Cody feels himself flush a little under the praise. He can take commendations about his prowess in battle - he knows he’s good at that - but it always feels harder, somehow, when it’s something he’s unsure about.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs, eyes still tracking the small bird ahead of them.

Obi-Wan nods, and the two fall into a companionable silence.

Cody allows himself a brief reprieve from the stress of the last hour, quietly letting himself just enjoy the moment in the here and now. A gentle scent from the flowerbeds around them diffuses through the air, the sunlight peeking through the sheet of clouds above to softly make itself known.

Obi-Wan turns to fix him with a faux-earnest look, his eyes twinkling with what can only be described as mischief. 

“Though, speaking of that chat you had… Soulmates, are we?” He asks innocently.

… Well. Cody was enjoying the moment. He feels his cheeks flush even brighter.

“Not. Another. Word,” he mutters, frowning over at the other man. Obi-Wan simply grins in return.

“No? Not one?” he presses, clearly delighting in the huff of annoyance that draws from his Commander.

“You’re incorrigible,” Cody grumbles. “I’m not going to encourage it, I know you too well.”

Obi-Wan hums at that, expression softening ever so slightly to reveal a genuine affection underneath his smirk. He gently nudges the Commander’s shoulder with his own, glancing back to the resort behind them.

“You certainly do, my dear. Come, we should be getting back to get our further agenda in order.”

Cody sighs, unable to keep from returning the fond smile.

“Right behind you. As always.”

______________________________

Obi-Wan had always been good at flirting.

Flirting, flirting, flirting, with anything that moves, anything that breathes.

He particularly has an aptitude for flirting with the enemy.

That doesn’t mean that Cody is good at listening to him do it.

The Commander sighs, fiddling with his comm-unit to give him something to occupy his hands with, focusing on getting the signal as clear as possible.It’s fairly clean already, but he’s desperate for something to do.

The smooth tones of his General drift out from the small device, serving to make the crease of his brow deepen.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex asks from beside him, glancing sidelong at his oldest friend. 

Cody grumbles under his breath, keeping his attention on the damn comm-unit. The tiny thing is vexing him more than it probably should. 

For a brief moment, he fantasises about crushing it.

“Nothing,” he responds irritably. 

Even through his vod’s helmet, he can practically feel the raised brow this earns him. 

“Nothing,” Rex repeats, sounding skeptical. “Sure.”

The two drift into a silence once more, keeping an ear to the unfortunate conversation they’re listening in on over the comms. Once General Kenobi says the codephrase, the 212th are going to rush in, the 501st backing them up.

It’s just… taking longer than they expected.

Stars, why can’t they just get on with it? The Commander feels twitchier than usual, some unknown force making his usually endless patience wear thin. 

His General throws out a casual line about the target’s eyes pleasantly matching the shirt they chose, and Cody rolls his eyes. At this rate, his scowl will be permanently etched onto his features. 

Rex once again notices his tension.

“He’s just stalling until Skywalker arrives,” the Captain tries, but it doesn’t do anything to abate Cody’s prickly mien. 

“Then he should get there faster,” Cody huffs, trying not to let the words come out in as much of a snap as they seem to want to. He’s aware he’s being irrational, but he can’t seem to shake it off.

Rex doesn’t respond. 

After Skywalker comms in to inform them that he’d be at least another ten minutes (because of course he will be, Cody thinks to himself), the two hunker down in their small, temporary bunker (if it can even be called that - it’s more of an empty shack that they’d squeezed themselves into to keep out of sight while awaiting their next orders). Rex removes his helmet with a sigh, running through a routine check of his blasters to give himself something to do in the meantime.

A soft, charming laugh fills the room, a little fuzzy from the distortion of the comm signal. “You’re too much, truly. But I would be lying if I said it doesn’t intrigue me,” Obi-Wan murmurs - or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he purrs. 

Either way, it irks Cody considerably, making his chest feel oddly tight. He can clearly imagine the look on the Jedi’s face as he speaks, that sultry glint in his eye that comes to him so easily when he’s making eyes at the enemy.

“... It’s not about the mission.” 

What? Cody startles as Rex breaks the silence, having apparently been watching him carefully for the last few minutes. Cody looks back at his vod like he’s grown a second head.

“Of course it’s about the mission,” he objects, absolutely baffled by his suggestion. “We’re wasting precious time, and the men are sitting ducks out here. I’d rather not do most of this firefight after sundown–”

“Sure, Codes, but difficult odds never phase you this much,” Rex counters, raising a brow.  He continues to watch Cody, his gaze searching for Force knows what. The Commander is suddenly very grateful he never took his own helmet off. 

“In fact,” the Captain presses, “I’ve never known you to be so off your game in the field. You usually do best when you’re backed into a corner. So it’s not about the mission.”

Cody doesn’t really know how to respond. He doesn’t particularly want to delve into all of the reasons behind his uncharacteristic distractions today.

“Just drop it, Rex’ika,” he insists, his voice a little weary. “I’m just feeling a little off today. It’ll pass.” 

Something like sympathetic understanding crosses Rex’s features. Cody watches him hesitantly try to find his next words. 

“... Is it about what happened on Cato Neimoidia a few weeks ago?” he asks. “How’ve you been sleeping since then?” 

Cody shakes his head quickly. “No, I– I’m fine. I’m sleeping fine.” Or - as fine as a man whose life has been spent at war is capable of sleeping, but Rex knows well enough what he means. His last mission had been… messy, to put it lightly, but he’s dealt with worse. He can compartmentalise.

His brother looks a little relieved to hear that, though Cody can tell he still wants to push.

Another comment from Obi-Wan that implies he and the target are imminently about to go home with one another makes its way through the space, and Cody grumbles quietly under his breath. Something seems to click for the Captain. Something that seems to amuse him greatly.

“... Ah,” Rex says. The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk. Cody wishes it didn’t do that.

“What?” he responds, tone clipped and making it clear that he is absolutely not in the mood for whatever the other man is about to come out with.

“Just connecting some dots.” If Rex looked any more smug right now, Cody might consider walking right out of the shack and eating his blaster - it would ultimately be more dignified than sitting through this inevitable conversation.

He does not want to talk about this, not now, not ever.

“Rex…” he murmurs lowly, a clear warning bleeding into his tone.

A warning that, of course, goes unheeded.

“You’d be unfazed trying to take down a kriffing rancor. And jealousy is what throws you off?”

If looks could kill, the 501st would need to hire a new Captain after this.

“I’m not jealous,” Cody rebuts without hesitation. He spoke too quickly, he knows immediately from the look on his brother’s face. Damn it all.

“No? Then why is every flirt he makes causing you to sound like Fox on that day the caf supplies ran out?” Rex looks practically triumphant in his discovery. “Oh, Force. That also must be why you got all touchy when that Twi’lek came onto Kenobi that time in 79’s. I thought it was about the other guy, but it wasn’t, was it?”

Cody sputters for a moment, trying to come up with a viable defense. 

“That’s not– I–”

As far as Rex is concerned, that’s a veritable confession. He offers his friend a wide grin, returning his focus to the comms.

“Your secret’s safe with me, ori’vod. I won’t tell a soul,” he says, far too brightly for Cody’s liking.

Cody considers continuing to argue, but he knows that it’s a lost cause. With a heavy sigh, he deflates, slouching in his chair.  

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you court-martialed for insubordination,” he mutters darkly, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’ll add that to the extensive list of reasons I’m glad I’m not one of your men, then,” Rex returns easily, giving Cody a playful nudge.

The Commander snorts, shaking his head. A wry smile finds its way onto his face, despite everything.

“Yeah, yeah. I still outrank you.”

The comm crackles with murmurs of conversation, and the two share an alarmed look. The codephrase.

“I’ll harass you about it later,” Rex chuckles, pulling on his helmet as the two rush out of the bunker.

“Just worry about surviving long enough to do that first, vod.” Cody mutters. “I could still shoot you in the back before this is all over.”

His brother only laughs.

______________________________

With the knowledge that the deal was set to be happening the following evening, the Jedi and Commander had spent the rest of their day at a fairly leisurely pace. After much persuasion, Cody had even let Obi-Wan buy a dinner for them both.

(“We usually split at Dex’s,” Cody had protested, not wanting the Jedi to pay out of pocket for such an expensive outing. He was aware that Obi-Wan had access to much more money than he did, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Yes, but I want to do something nice for you,” Obi-Wan insisted, gently placing a hand on Cody’s, staying his hand from reaching for his wallet. “I asked you to join me here on the mission in the first place, so let me repay you in kind.”

Cody had raised a brow at that. “I’ll be getting paid by the Republic for agreeing to come, regardless.”

Obi-Wan’s expression didn’t falter. “You might be, yes, but not nearly enough. Allow me this, please.”

Cody always had been bad at denying him when he used that tone.)

They’d both fallen asleep quickly that night, having stayed up to trade stories - a familiar ritual from when they first began working late together to get their mountains of paperwork turned in on time.

Obi-Wan tells Cody of planets he’d visited before the war, and promises to take his Commander to see some of them once this is all over - to give him the holiday and time off that the Jedi says he deserves. Cody regales his Jedi with tales of his childhood on Kamino, telling him of the books Shaak-Ti had helped smuggle to them to help the tubies sleep at night.

The following morning brings with it a quiet sort of strangeness.

Something urgent, but not necessarily dangerous, tugs at the edge of Cody’s conscious mind, gently drawing him to wakefulness.

He’s warm, warmer than he’d usually like to be, and he can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something important that he needs to be paying attention to.

He dozes, trying to figure out what, if anything, is different about today.  

Obi-Wan lets out a soft murmur behind him in his sleep, pressing his nose closer against Cody’s back and– 

Oh.

Well, that would certainly explain the warmth.

Cody doesn’t move, doesn’t even dare breathe as his mind works overtime to process the situation. 

Obi-Wan is pressed directly behind him, one of his arms slung lazily over his torso. For want of a better word (and Cody is desperately searching for one), the Jedi is… holding him.

An explosion of conflicting emotions bubble in Cody’s chest, his mind still far too fogged from sleep to make sense of any of it.

With each breath from Obi-Wan, Cody can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back, and in a brief moment of delirium, he finds himself wishing that he’d forgone his undershirt too, just to feel the touch of skin against skin.

It’s a thought he immediately admonishes himself for, wondering just where, exactly, he’d gained the audacity to think such an unprofessional and objectifying thing about his commanding kriffing officer. 

Cody’s breath grows progressively more shallow as he continues to draw a blank. How had this even happened? Cody is firmly stationed on his own side of the bed, meaning it was the Jedi who had to have shuffled over - but that means nothing. He’s asleep, and pressing close is a normal sleeping instinct when you’re in bed with someone else. Right? Perhaps Obi-Wan was just cold - though, that would hardly make sense, given that they’re on a tropical kriffing island.

Cody’s face, he’s sure, is flushing deeply, his heart hammering against his ribs at the contact. It’s fine. This… can be fine, and not existentially mortifying - as long as he extricates himself from the hold before Obi-Wan wakes up.

He doesn’t even want to imagine how awkward this would be if the other man was aware of what was happening.

He tries a very, very gentle shuffle towards the edge of the bed, but Obi-Wan lets out a quiet groan of protest in his sleep, curling himself around the clone even tighter.

Cody desperately tries to ignore the way that the sound goes straight to his groin.

Shit, shit, shit. 

He doesn’t see another solution, though he wishes he did. Cody once again shifts, a little more firmly now, peeling Obi-Wan’s arm off from him as carefully as possible.

The second he sees a hint of freedom, the Commander bolts, rolling out of bed and rushing to the ‘fresher. 

His Jedi, thank every star in the sky, does not seem to stir.

Safe inside the refresher, with the door locked behind him and his mind buzzing, Cody thinks faintly that his legs might actually give out under him.

Between the feeling of Obi-Wan pressed close against his back, and Lia’s words from yesterday still unsettling him, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

It all adds up to a great cacophony in his head, one Cody has absolutely no idea what to begin to do with. It’s too loud, too insistent, and his heart is still fluttering like a caged bird attempting escape.

A shower, he decides, is a good first step. He could probably do with a shower.

Shrugging off his sleepclothes, he numbly makes his way to the cubicle, determined to do something, anything, to calm his racing thoughts.

Cody presses his forehead against the cold tiles as the scalding water runs down his back. Neither of the contrasting sensations serve to ground him in reality the way he wishes they would.

He… wants.

No, that’s not quite right.

Wanting is ephemeral, malleable. It’s intense, burning, but it doesn’t stick around too long or cut down quite to the bone. 

It usually, in Cody’s experience, is something that can be ignored, temporarily or not, with enough focus and discipline.

No, Cody does not want. He needs.

He raises his head from the tiles, closing his eyes as the water trickles in too-hot rivulets down his face.

Of course. Of course. He should have known, should have seen the signs… perhaps then, he could have done something to stop it.

Cody lets out a quiet, strangled groan. It echoes off of the tiles of the small shower back to him, sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Force.

This whole mission has been a cruel play by the Gods. By even stepping foot here, he’d opened the lid on something he could have gone the rest of his life ignoring, and Cody is afraid - no, terrified - that there’s no going back now.

Passion, desire, infatuation - he can deal with those. They’re to be expected for anyone, even someone of his station trying to navigate living through wartime. Love, on the other hand… 

… What the fuck does a clone do with love?

From the other room, he hears the front door of their room close, feels the slight shake of the walls. Obi-Wan has left, no doubt waking and deciding to pick them up breakfast like he did yesterday.

Slowly, Cody slides down the wall of the shower, sitting with his knees drawn to his chest and his gaze unfocused as the water pools around him.

His thoughts drift back to the words his Jedi had said to him two evenings ago, just before their kiss. 

‘This… isn’t ideal.’

No, General, Cody thinks to himself, more than a little miserably. He drags a hand over his face, doing his best to stop his teeth from grinding together in frustration. No, it is not.

______________________________

The effort required to pull himself together for the evening is gargantuan, but then again, the Commander has always thrived under impossible odds.

They’ve been trailing Barrek from afar since 9pm, waiting for him to make his way to the site of the deal, wherever it may be. It’s almost a relief when, at 9:25, he finally takes his leave from the resort’s main building and slips out into the night. 

“Showtime,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his eyes locked on the Rodian from their vantage point in the gardens. 

“So it seems. We should be careful.”

“Ah, but we’re simply two lovers going on a nighttime stroll,” the Jedi responds lightly, giving his companion a gentle, friendly nudge. “Nothing suspicious there.”

Cody isn’t certain he’s up for their usual banter tonight. 

Still, he forces on a small smile. It begrudgingly becomes genuine when he takes in Obi-Wan’s expression. 

“You’re sure you’re alright, Cody?” he asks quietly, worried eyes searching Cody’s.

Obi-Wan had noticed his distraction earlier - of course he had. Cody had told him, not entirely incorrectly, that he was simply feeling a little ill.

A mistake, he immediately realised, as that meant that he’d been unable to avoid the Jedi’s fussing for the rest of the day.

A situation that had, unfortunately, not helped Cody’s heart after his earlier discovery. If he had to feel the gentle press of the back of the other man’s hand upon his forehead one more time…

Cody sees the familiar concern in his friend’s eyes, and nods. 

“Can’t be too wrong by your side, sir,” he murmurs, a little more truth in the statement than he imagines Obi-Wan will ever know.

The Jedi’s expression softens further, and he reaches out a hand to squeeze Cody’s shoulder, sparing a quick glance over to Barrek’s retreating form in the distance. “Good. Let us go save the Galaxy once again, then, Commander,” he murmurs, smiling gently.

Cody allows himself a quiet chuckle, even as his stomach does a somersault at the gesture. “It does seem to fall on us often, that.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkle in a combination of fondness and amusement that he seems to only reserve for those quiet, between-mission conversations.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re always fit to answer the call, I suppose.”

It begins to rain a little ways into their excursion, the two pulling the hoods of their cloaks up as they follow Barrek from a safe distance. 

He’s jumpy - though for good reason, Cody thinks, considering he’s being tailed - repeatedly checking over his shoulder and keeping a twitchy hand on the blaster at his side.

Rodians have considerably better night vision than humans, so Obi-Wan is sure to breathe a soft word of warning for them duck out of sight each time he senses the other man is about to turn. 

Cody silently gestures for the two of them to take a path up the side of a nearby cliff as they see Barrek wander down to the shoreline of one of the many nearby beaches - less chance to intervene, perhaps, but a better, more secure vantage point.

The wind rushes past them as they find a place to properly set up, their cloaks billowing out behind them as the waves crash against the shore below. Cody frowns as he removes the blaster clipped to his back, fully extending it out to become a sniper rifle.

Yesterday he had been out of his element, but this is his arena. He's run countless stakeouts before, and the Commander is confident that today’s won't be particularly more difficult than any other.

“Wind’s in a bad direction, gonna affect my aim,” he gripes, glancing down to where Barrek is waiting around on the beach with his hands stuffed in his pockets. They have time, but the others will be arriving any moment. “Stand there,” he orders.

Obi-Wan raises a brow, though he steps over to where Cody had pointed without question. 

“And kneel,” the Commander directs firmly, his focus dedicated to fiddling with the scope. 

He belatedly realises that that is perhaps an incredibly inappropriate request to make of your commanding officer when he glances up to see Obi-Wan, wide eyed and a little red in the face.

Before he can open his mouth to apologise, rectify the situation, Obi-Wan nods, clearing his throat quietly. He arranges the cloak below him, settling himself down on the damp grass below.

Usually, the Jedi would make a joke out of the whole thing, or gently needle Cody for making such an order. For whatever reason, though, he stays quiet.

“Might I ask why…?” he eventually responds. Cody could swear his voice comes out a little strained, though he quickly dismisses the thought.

“Didn’t bring a stabiliser,” Cody answers with an apologetic smile, crouching in front of Obi-Wan and setting the body of the rifle down on the Jedi's shoulder, checking the scope and adjusting it minutely.

Cody tries not to think too hard about the way Obi-Wan's gaze burns into him as he hovers just over the other man, face to face and barely inches away between the cold metal of the blaster.

… But now is not the time for such distractions.

His attention zeroes in on the task at hand, the importance of it all providing a welcome reprieve from the pressure of being so close to his friend.

“... Slightly to the left,” he murmurs, and Obi-Wan dutifully shuffles himself over bit by bit until Cody, keeping close, breathes a quiet ‘stop’.

A few moments pass while he fixes the focus, feeling how tense the Jedi is.

“You can breathe, you know,” Cody says, unable to hide the amusement that slips into his teasing tone. “This is just a glorified telescope, I don’t need it steady enough to take a shot.” 

It takes Obi-Wan a long beat to respond.

“... Right. Of course,” he says, letting out a quiet, shaky-sounding exhale. Cody frowns in worry, nearly commenting on how strange his General is being, but his attention is drawn first by three more figures moving into the scope.

“It’s starting,” he whispers, pulling back briefly to meet the Jedi’s gaze. “Tell me anything you sense.”

Obi-Wan nods, his eyes fluttering closed in that peaceful way that tells Cody he’s reaching out to the Force. “I will. Tell me anything you see,” he requests in return. 

“I will.”

The General and Commander fall quiet as they settle in to work, their world narrowed down to the four people down on the quiet beach below.

The wind, though still strong, ceases its howling, as if holding its breath along with them.

It’s now or never, Cody thinks, watching as conversation on the beach begins. Time for them to save the Republic.

✷✷✷✷✷

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Dangancember 2024 - Danganronpa Top 24 Class Trials - Number 5: Danganronpa V3 Case 1 {BEST CASE FROM DRV3}

//Me running from the angry mob who think this case is fucking overrated:

//Okay, okay, I already knew going into this, looking at my top 10, that this is probably the second or third most divisive placement on this list, because the feelings that people have for this trial are generally mixed, and all of it rides on one particular aspect of it, that carries the whole thing.

//But that's not a problem becase we already have a set precedent for that on this list, and yeah, I will not deny it. This trial is only up here because of one massive bias that I have towards it, and if you know me by now, then you already know what it is.

//But I have lots of other reasons as to why I absolutely love this Class Trial, mainly because even if it's not as good a mystery as 2-1 or A2-1, this is the best opening case for me because of how it kicks V3 off with an emotional bang.

//This isn't like the first trial of Another 2 where I think it's generally not a good sign that my favourite case in that game was the first one. This one has a legitimate reason for being up here because of how, even to this day, it sets itself apart from every other Danganronpa trial that we've covered so far, not just among the openings.

//And trust me, it was SO GODDAMN DIFFICULT trying to decide which I liked more between V3-1 and V3-4, because they're both AMAZING. But the thing that ultimately decided it is that I actually have come back to this case a few times over the course of my time as a DR fan. While I only sparingly go back to Chapter 4 of this game, because it's already had its impact on me.

//If you thought the opening cases in previous games were wild, V3 comes out swinging (literally) with a mystery that doesn’t just set the stage but completely flips the script on what you expect from a Danganronpa trial.

//It’s not just about solving the murder; it’s about the emotional gut-punch, the clever twists, and the bold storytelling choices that make you question everything you thought you knew about the series.

So let’s dive into what makes this case such a standout moment in the franchise.

//The first victim in Danganronpa V3 is Rantaro Amami, a man of mystery whose Ultimate Talent remains unknown during the first chapter. His untimely demise occurs in the library, where he’s tragically bludgeoned on the head with a heavy shotput ball.

//I know there are other aspects of the trial that stand out to people more, but I actually want to kick this review off by saying that Rantaro’s death is not just shocking but downright brilliant.

//It's one of the best character fakeouts in the series, and the only time I think Kodaka does it better in any of his mystery games is the prologue case of Rain Code (If you know, you know.) It's executed so well that it leaves you doing a mental double take.

//At first glance, Rantaro seems poised to become this game’s equivalent of Nagito. i.e. a morally ambiguous outcast with potentially twisted ideals.

//His enigmatic vibe and cryptic behavior practically scream "plot relevance." Honestly, he even gives off shades of Yuri from SDRA2, with that same aura of someone you’d expect to stir the pot in bizarre and unsettling ways.

//To emphasize this further, all the other Ultimate ???'s have been integral to their games. Kyoko was the deutragonist and leading lady of DR1, and Hajime was the protagonist of DR2. And in the first chapter of DR1, Kyoko is mostly unnasuming, and you don't know what her relevance to the plot is until the trial actually happens; since most of the screentime of Chapter 1 is taken up by Makoto's relationship with Sayaka.

//But before we even get to unravel his deal, he’s unceremoniously removed from the board. It's as if the game chuckled to itself and shouted "SIKE!"

//This clever bait-and-switch caught me completely off guard. I was ready for Rantaro to take center stage as the group's wildcard, only for the game to pull the rug out from under me.

//Instead, the role of chaotic, antagonistic schemer eventually falls to Kokichi, who turned out to be another fantastic choice, though his brand of chaos is a touch different.

//I'd really like to see a potential fanfic rewrite where Rantaro survives, and serves as the rival character to the main protagonist. Because most V3 rewrites are one's that have Kaede survive the first chapter, but Rantaro still dies, and he hardly gets any screentime, if any. And that's a shame, because I'd like to see what people do with his character.

//Please read all these fanfics by the way, they're so good.

//And sure, you could argue the setup feels a bit reminiscent of Danganronpa 2, where the first victim is also a character cloaked in mystery, and then later, his real talent is revealed to be something monumental to the plot of the game. But hey, if it ain’t broke, why fix it? It’s a bold way to kick things off and keep players guessing, and it sets the stage for the rollercoaster ride of twists that V3 is known for.

//But...okay, let's not delay ourselves any longer. All ya'll motherfuckers know the precise reason why it is that I love this trial.

//When it comes to the first trial of Danganronpa V3, the victim is certainly a shocking element, but let’s not kid ourselves...there’s one reason why this trial is etched into the annals of the series’ history as one of its most mind-blowing moments.

//And that reason is…The culprit.

//So, who killed Rantaro Amami? Who's the mastermind behind this library bludgeoning?

//You are!

//Okay, to be more specific, the person who turns out to be Rantaro's SUPPOSED murderer is Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Pianist, who starts V3 by serving as the player character.

//Yep! The character you’ve been controlling this whole time is the murderer. And that alone is one of the best plot twists in the entire series, already rivalling the final plot twists of Danganronpa 2.

//And if that doesn't set a precedent for this game, I don't know what could have.

//To elaborate, the game opens with you playing as Kaede, a talented and determined pianist with a big heart, a hopeful spirit, and a knack for rallying her classmates. Everything about her screams "main protagonist," from her bright demeanor to her prominent placement in marketing materials.

//But as this trial unfolds, the game pulls the ultimate fast one.

//At first, the trial plays out like classic Danganronpa fare: you gather evidence, debate your classmates, and cross names off the suspect list. The usual, right? But as the suspects dwindle and the pressure mounts, it becomes clear that solving this case won’t come easy.

//The group edges closer to despair as they struggle to pinpoint the killer. This is where Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective, the game's current deutragonist, becomes the prime suspect for much of the trial.

//After some prompting, Shuichi, putting his sleuthing skills to good use, proposes a theory that flips the entire case, and the game, on its head. The real killer isn’t anyone standing on the sidelines. It’s Kaede herself. The cheerful, hopeful pianist you’ve been guiding through this madness turns out to be the one who orchestrated Rantaro’s death.

//Let’s pause to appreciate just how wild this twist is. Up until this point, Kaede was framed as the central figure of Danganronpa V3. You’ve bonded with her, rooted for her, and poured hours into her perspective. And now, she’s sentenced to death.

//The "main character" doesn’t even survive past the first chapter! It’s a daring, genre-defying move that caught players completely off guard.

//To make this twist land, the game’s developers went all out. They weren’t just pulling a fast one on Kaede; they were pulling one on us. Here’s just some of the things they pulled off this grand deception:

On the game’s official Steam page, the promotional images heavily feature Kaede as the protagonist. Shuichi, on the other hand, is LITERALLY a background character.

Kaede is front and center in nearly all official artwork; at least those that dropped at the time of release. Shuichi’s presence is muted, making it seem like she’s the undisputed lead.

V3 is the only one of the Danganronpa games that had a fully released demo. In the game’s demo, Kaede is marketed as the hero, reinforcing the idea that this is her story. Makoto and Hajime, both of whom make reappearances for the demo, specifically refer to her as a "fellow protagonist."

The developers warned fans repeatedly on social media to avoid spoilers, knowing this twist was too good to ruin.

To cement the illusion, they even slapped the "Female Protagonist" tag on the game’s store page.

//This level of misdirection is nothing short of genius. It’s one of the most ambitious twists the series has ever pulled off, and it solidifies this trial as a standout moment in Danganronpa history. Clever, daring, and a little cruel, it’s the kind of narrative gut punch that keeps fans talking years later.

//Also, as a side note, while I was doing this analysis and getting screenshots from YouTube to use as part of it, I found this comment, and I never actually thought about it this way, and it's so goddamn funny for some reason:

//It definitely keeps ME talking years later, since these days, Kaede is quite possibly my favourite character in the entire series.

//And yes, I'm sorry, this is turning into a rant about why I absolutely love Kaede, but it is very relevant to the plot of this trial, since this is her one and done. So I want to establish what she was able to achieve within her time.

//Kaede is a delightful bundle of joy, determination, and just the right amount of chaos, and even though she is the protagonist initially, she sets herself apart from the previous series hitters; Makoto, Hajime, and Komaru.

//She’s a hardworking leader type with a strong will, unshakable beliefs in herself and others, and a heart set on making people smile. especially through her music. But while her Ultimate Pianist title highlights her talent, it’s Kaede’s personality and quirks that truly make her shine.

//For starters, Kaede’s kindness and selflessness often lead her to put others first, sometimes to a fault. She’s so trusting that in the game’s demo, she outright fakes an alibi for Makoto based solely on gut instinct, even though she has no rational reason to believe he’s innocent. She does this for Shuichi as well, but obviously, as far as she's aware, SHE'S the culprit, so she knows that if Shuichi is voted for, she gets executed.

//She’ll lie if it’s for a good cause, but at the same time, she’s hilariously bad at it, squirming uncomfortably every time.

//Like previous protagonists, she’s sensitive to others’ struggles and listens earnestly to their concerns. But Kaede takes it a step further: she actively pushes people to improve, even if that means bluntly pointing out their flaws.

//It's easy to go through all of V3 without seeing her FTE's, because she's obviously only around for this chapter, and has two per character. And unless you reset the game multiple times, you won't get to see them all.

//Which is a shame that you have to go through so much effort to see them because they're all packed with moments of encouragement that show her as an unshakable force of positivity. Unsurprisingly, most of her classmates quickly grow to like her.

//That said, Kaede isn’t without her...problems...In fact she has quite a few.

//Her obsession with piano borders on comical; she works musical metaphors into everyday conversations and avoids any activity that might harm her precious fingers. Her Free Time Events with Tsumugi even lead to a minor existential crisis when she realizes her entire identity revolves around piano, prompting her to desperately search for new hobbies.

//Which is not true, because personally, I think she's among the deeper characters in V3, but it's still funny.

//Kaede also has a goofy, impulsive side that often makes her unintentionally funny, or awkward or awkward depending on the situation. For example, she has absolutely ZERO sense of restraint

//In K1-B0’s Free Time Events, she casually asks questions about his robotic nature in ways that come off as insensitive. She’s the type to poke buttons (literally in Keebo's case, where she pushes his emergency shutdown) or cheeks without permission, giving her a playful, almost childlike quality.

//But then there’s her tendency to blurt out comments that can sound…questionable. She enthusiastically calls Tenko cute, describes Tsumugi’s "sexy aura," and even threatens to lift Tsumugi’s skirt to get her to talk, prompting Shuichi to point out that she’s acting like a creepy old man.

//Her layered personality doesn’t end there. While she’s a genuinely kind and brave person, Kaede also has a fiery temper and a knack for standing her ground. She’s quick to lash out when provoked, whether it’s snapping at Shuichi for panicking, telling Himiko to shut up during an investigation, or calling out Kokichi for his attention-seeking antics.

//Yet, these moments of frustration come from a place of passion, as Kaede firmly believes in justice and doing what’s right. She’s not afraid to call out any behavior she deems unacceptable, earning her a reputation as a bossy but well-meaning figure.

//However, Kaede’s determination to do the right thing is both her greatest strength and her biggest flaw. She’s relentless in pursuing her vision of justice, even when it’s misguided or downright dangerous. In this chapter, she rallies the group to escape using one of Monokuma’s obvious traps, earning everyone's pointed criticism, specifically from Maki and Kokichi. Her pushy attitude sometimes rubs others the wrong way, but Kaede genuinely doesn’t realize how her actions affect those around her until it’s pointed out. When her good intentions go awry, it leads to moments of genuine regret.

//Of course, Kaede’s defining moment comes in the trial, where her unwavering sense of justice drives her to extremes. To save her classmates, she attempts to murder the Mastermind, a decision that ends in disaster when her plan misfires and Rantaro becomes the unintended victim.

//And despite the inclusion of the First-Blood Perk, which allows whoever commits the crime to escape the school without the need for a Class Trial, she refuses to take the chance, because she wants to use the trial to out the Mastermind.

//This twist not only redefines Kaede’s role but also highlights her complexity. She isn’t just a good person in the traditional sense. Her belief in her own righteousness blinds her to the consequences of her actions, making her a beautifully flawed and deeply human character.

//Now...before I go onto what I actually liked about the trial itself, and how, while the Kaede twist carries it, it's still supported by a bunch of really neat moments, mysteries, and pacing, I want to go over one massive concern that we haven't really established with this case, and give my opinion on it. Because this is something that we've kind of already gone over, but I want to talk about it in more detail here, because this is where the point becomes relevant.

//During the trial, the evidence begins to point toward the fact that Rantaro was killed by a heavy shotput ball dropped from the vent above the library’s bookcases, which is how Kaede set up the trap. Initially, suspicions are scattered among several characters, with Shuichi himself being a prime suspect for much of the trial.

//However, in a dramatic reversal, Shuichi pieces together that Kaede’s actions prior to the murder align with the placement of the murder weapon. He theorizes that Kaede had hidden the shotput ball inside the air vent with the intention of setting a trap for the Mastermind. This trap involved the ball rolling out of the vent and hitting whoever triggered the motion-detecting cameras set up in the library. Tragically, Rantaro happened to be the one caught in the crossfire.

//Or so we thought...

//In truth, Tsumugi Shirogane, who is secretly the mastermind of the killing game, altered the events of the murder after Kaede set her trap. Kaede’s plan to kill the Mastermind failed, and the shotput ball actually MISSED Rantaro. He was instead killed directly by Tsumugi, who procured her own ball and smashed him over the head with it.

//Using her authority over Monokuma and the game, Tsumugi manipulated the evidence to make it look like Kaede’s trap had succeeded. Ensuring that Kaede would take the fall for the crime, not only eliminating a strong-willed leader who might disrupt the killing game early on, but also, due to Monokuma's threat of killing everybody if nobody died within a certain time limit, to ensure her own survival.

//The group unknowingly plays into her hands, convicting Kaede as the blackened based on incomplete and fabricated evidence. And it's quite possibly the only substantially evil thing Tsumugi does in the whole game.

//Now...this element of the game is controversial, both for me, and for the audience, for several reasons.

//My big issue is that it's an unfair manipulation of the rules of the killing game, which usually relies on airtight logic and player-driven deductions. Knowing that the evidence was tampered with by Tsumugi retroactively feels like a betrayal of the game’s premise of uncovering the truth.

//And yeah, this isn't the first time the Mastermind does this. Junko does this in Game 1, in fact. And it's highly unrealistic for you to believe that the Masterminds would ever willfully play by the rules, but my problem is that it really undermines them from being the powerful villains that they play themselves as in the final Chapter. It's why I believe AI Junko in the second game is the best Mastermind of the lot, since she's the only one who doesn't royally fuck up at one point (barring Mikado and Akane T.)

//The bigger issue for people in general, however, is that some fans feel that the framing diminishes Kaede’s role in the twist. Instead of her actions directly leading to the crime, her plan is sabotaged and used against her by an outside force. This makes her appear less culpable, which can feel like a cop-out for such a high-stakes moment.

//One could argue that if Kaede had actually succeeded in killing Rantaro, the twist would have been more impactful. It would’ve forced players to grapple with the moral complexity of Kaede’s actions, as she would’ve knowingly crossed a line to protect her friends. By shifting the blame to Tsumugi’s interference, the narrative somewhat softens the weight of Kaede’s decision.

//And I do agree with all of these notions, and understand where people are coming from. HOWEVER, despite these criticisms, Kaede’s framing still works within the context of the story and doesn’t take away from the emotional impact of her being the Chapter 1 culprit.

//What you have to remember is it isn't simply that Tsumugi committed her own crime individual of Kaede. Kaede started the murder plan, and Tsumugi finished it.

//It still means that Kaede isn't the killer, and shouldn't have been executed for it, but it doesn't change the fact that she still TRIED to kill somebody.

//It doesn't take away from the complexities and flaws of Kaede as a person in this game. The Despair she felt, and the corner she was driven into, still mattered, and she still acted on it in the worst way possible. Had the shotput ball hit Rantaro and not missed by pure coincidence, she would still have been the culprit.

//Even though she was framed for the actual murder, Kaede’s actions remain central to the story. Her plan to kill the mastermind reflects her unyielding determination to save her classmates, even at the cost of her own morality. Whether her trap succeeded or not, Kaede willingly put herself in a position where she would’ve been responsible for taking a life. This is the heart of the twist, and it’s not about whether she succeeded, but about her willingness to go that far.

//The framing doesn’t change the fact that Kaede is executed believing she is responsible for Rantaro’s death. Her guilt and despair as she tries to encourage Shuichi to carry on in her place still land with full emotional force, and the player shares her devastation, and her death leaves a lasting impact on the narrative. This doesn't change with Chapter 6's revelations.

//And on top of that, Tsumugi’s interference is consistent with her role as the mastermind and a villain who thrives on deception. The killing game has always been about manipulation, both of the participants and the audience. By framing Kaede, she ensures that the game starts with a shocking betrayal of expectations, cementing her as a calculating and ruthless antagonist.

//Only to fumble the ball much later, but this is more of a knock on Trial 6 than Trial 1.

//And that's mainly the big reason why I think this trial is great as an opening. It allows several characters to shine early.

//Kaede’s bold leadership, Rantaro’s mysterious potential, and glimpses of complexity in Kokichi’s manipulations and Kaito’s steadfastness all take center stage.

//But beyond Kaede, the real breakout star here is Shuichi, whose journey from hesitant sidekick to true protagonist begins in earnest during this chapter.

//At first glance, unlike Kaede, Shuichi feels eerily familiar to Makoto and Hajime, or previous protagonists. He’s polite, serious, and perpetually anxious, sporting a hat he refuses to take off because he’s self-conscious about making eye contact. He blushes, breaks into cold sweats, and often assumes everyone else is more capable than he is.

//In short, he doesn’t exactly exude confidence or charisma, and that’s exactly why his growth feels so satisfying. V3 may have ups and downs in terms of its characterization and plot development, but if there's one thing that I can say for certain, it's that Shuichi's character writing, throughout ALL of this game, is FLAWLESS!

//Despite his meekness, Shuichi shows surprising flashes of initiative early on. He’s the first to suggest they set a trap for the mastermind, proving he’s not as passive as he seems. He’s also quick to stand up for himself when pushed too far, such as his angry outburst at Miu accusing him of being a pervert.

//Kaede’s role in shaping Shuichi cannot be overstated. As the initial protagonist, she radiates optimism, courage, and determination. Her plan to stop the mastermind, though it fails, demonstrates her willingness to take risks for the group’s sake.

//When the truth of the trial forces Shuichi to accuse her, the weight of that responsibility crushes him, but Kaede’s faith in him remains unwavering.

//Kaede’s final words, encouraging Shuichi to believe in himself, become the foundation for his transformation. Her trust in him, paired with Kaito’s relentless support afterwards, helps Shuichi shed his self-doubt (and his hat) and step into the spotlight as the protagonist. From here on, Shuichi is determined not to look away from the truth, no matter how painful, a promise he makes in honor of Kaede’s memory.

//Trial by trial, Shuichi grows more confident and assertive. By the time the finale rolls around, Shuichi has fully stepped into his role, calling out the mastermind and rallying his fellow survivors with unshakable resolve. His passionate outrage upon revealing Kaede’s unjust execution shows just how far he’s come, not only as a detective but as someone who refuses to let lies define their lives.

//What makes Shuichi such a compelling protagonist is how different he is from Kaede. Where Kaede is bold and charismatic, Shuichi is quiet and thoughtful. He lacks her boundless optimism but compensates with razor-sharp intellect and a deep sense of responsibility.

//His understated heroism makes his victories feel earned rather than inevitable, and his struggles resonate with anyone who’s ever doubted themselves.

//In the end, Shuichi becomes the protagonist that Team Danganronpa never anticipated. While Kaede was ideal for their manufactured Killing Game, Shuichi subverts their expectations entirely. By rejecting the binary of Hope and Despair and refusing to vote, he takes a stand that transcends the game’s twisted rules. His quiet determination and intellect ultimately bring an end to the Killing Game and the series itself.

//Just as he promised Kaede.

//Kaede’s death and the way she passes the torch to Shuichi set the stage for one of, if not, THE most rewarding character arc/arcs in the series. Her impact is felt throughout the game, not just in Shuichi’s growth but in how her sacrifice inspires the survivors to keep pushing forward.

//Shuichi’s evolution from anxious and self-doubting to confident and decisive is what makes him such a standout protagonist. His relatability, paired with his ability to rise to the occasion, ensures that his journey, from the first trial to the game’s finale, is as compelling as it is memorable.

//But while the characterization and the relevance of Kaede is what carries this trial this high onto the list, I want to talk a little more about my thoughts and feelings on the invesigation, and the trial itself.

//The first chapter of Danganronpa V3 is just as heavy and depressing as its predecessors, but it cranks up the confusion factor to eleven. While Hope’s Peak Academy and Jabberwock Island had some sense of familiarity, the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juvenies in this game feels more alien, making the stakes even harder to grasp initially.

//I kind of already said this, but from the way Rantaro carries himself in the prologue, acting all mysterious and competent, I was convinced he was going to be a key player. Maybe even a leader figure who would stick around for the long haul. And then when he started going a bit off the rails, I thought, "Ah, I see where this is going."

//I began thinking that he was going to turn out like Tsurugi from the Another games. Like the morally rigid, justice-obsessed type whose sense of right and wrong is slightly…off.

//But nope! The next thing I knew, Rantaro was lying there, very dead, and I was sitting there questioning my life choices. That little arc of his really threw me for a loop.

//Unless you're NicoB and somehow channeling detective-level intuition, figuring out who the killer is in this case is next to impossible based on the investigation clues alone. And that’s exactly what makes it so brilliant.

//With Kaede as the culprit, you essentially experience the entire murder setup firsthand. You’re there for the plan, the execution (as in the crime HAPPENING in real time, not the execution that kills Kaede, although we are also there for that), and the aftermath. But the game cleverly omits just the right moments or twists key words in a way that keeps you from ever suspecting her.

//Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: some fans argue that the protagonist switch is the only good thing about this case, dismissing the rest as basic or bare-bones.

//Respectfully, I think they’re wrong.

//Sure, the protagonist twist is a massive highlight. It’s chef’s kiss in terms of execution. But the case itself has plenty to offer.

//As a first case, it had some big shoes to fill. On one hand, it easily outshines the first trial in Danganronpa 1, which, let’s be real, was serviceable but not exactly riveting.

//On the other hand, it had to compete with Danganronpa 2’s first trial, which featured Teruteru’s surprisingly intricate scheme. That one’s a tougher act to follow, but I’d argue that Kaede’s case pulls ahead in terms of how engaging and multilayered the mystery is.

//Teruteru's crime was more complicated, and engaging, but it wasn't as fun to solve as this one was for me.

//Is it the most complex case in the series? No.

//Does it redefine what meta means in V3? Not quite.

//But it’s still an awesome, tightly crafted mystery that deserves its spot among the series’ best. In hindsight, even though they are my least favourite set of mysteries in the main trilogy, V3’s cases are all pretty intricate, so the fact that this one holds its ground says a lot.

//And really, how can you not appreciate a case where the game essentially says, "You’re the killer, but good luck realizing that before we drop the bombshell?"

//It’s clever, it’s bold, and it sets the tone for V3’s penchant for subverting expectations. Whether you’re here for the shocking twists or just love seeing your brain get tied in knots, this case delivers.

//For good measure, I'll reiterate how this whole thing goes.

//So, the whole mystery kicks off with Rantaro getting murdered, and Kaede, being the brilliant hero that she is, takes it upon herself to help the group narrow down the list of suspects. She shuts down anyone who tries to throw blame at others, using hard evidence like a detective on a caffeine high.

//The excuses for why certain people couldn’t have been the killer range from, "They were miles away at the time," to "They’re physically too weak to throw a shotput hard enough to kill someone". Basically a smorgasbord of alibis and physical limitations that could’ve come straight out of a detective’s handbook.

//But as it goes, all suspicion seems to funnel onto Shuichi. After all, he’s the only one who could bypass the security system, because Miu, the mastermind behind the tech Shu and Kae used for their trap, told him how to do it, while Kaede was not informed beforehand. And since Miu has her own alibi, she's off the hook.

//However, in a classic display of Kaede's wits, she manages to throw a few crafty suggestions, and a little white lie here and there, to get Shuichi off the suspect list.

//But if Shuichi isn’t the culprit, then who in the world is? Well, Shuichi, after a brief moment of hesitation, and probably some deep internal screaming, suggests a bold new theory: Kaede could be the killer.

//Now, if this was a soap opera, this is where the dramatic music would kick in. The rest of the trial devolves into a full-on "everyone vs. Shuichi" situation. Which is a terrible situation to thrust the poor boy into, especially since this chapter also features a whole ass scene where Shuichi is crying about being scared of the truth.

//I get why Kaede did it, and it did help Shuichi in the end, but it doesn't change the fact that she was making him fight everybody over a truth that he didn't want to come to light.

//The tension is palpable, and the whole room is practically ready to tear him apart, but this is where Shuichi starts showing his detective chops. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, and argues with the same quiet determination you’d expect from someone who’s been taking notes on how to deal with chaos. It's a subtle flex of his growing skills as a detective, and honestly, it’s pretty satisfying to watch him hold his ground against everyone.

//Eventually, the trial wraps up with Kaede confessing to the murder. But here's where things get a bit…well, complicated.

//Now, if there’s one thing that makes this trial truly stand out, it’s how the protagonist switch ties into the game’s larger themes of Truth vs. Lies, and more importantly, the colossal twist that the world of V3 isn't even real.

//Shuichi, the true protagonist, is like the ultimate punchline to the whole game. The fact that Kaede doesn’t make it past the first chapter is like one giant narrative rug-pull. Not only does it break your expectations for what you thought the game was going to be, but it also ties directly into the overarching narrative of deception that runs through V3.

//And, if you’re paying close attention, it’s not just a clever narrative trick. It's a commentary on the entire premise of the game. The creators themselves are in on the joke, which adds a whole layer of meta to the experience.

//In the end, this trial is a perfect storm of clever writing, emotional punches, and mind-bending twists.

//Kaede may not have been the killer, but her actions set the stage for everything that follows, and that’s what makes this trial one of my absolute favorites in the Danganronpa series.

//So yeah, I'm definitely biased. And I'm sorry if that ticks people off.

//But I should warn you. If you think THIS is the most controversial pick for the upper rankings? You'd best get ready for tomorrow's.

[cemetegee]

Could Ianthe see Cytherea's Corpse?

The question if Ianthe could really see the corpse under Harrows bed, is an important approach to her character. Gaslighting Harrow would be one of the most cruel things she's done (besides of the murder of Naberius Tern) In my opinion, there are several hints that the corpse was NOT visible to anyone, and I'd like to present them to you.

But before we start, what is even the "proof" that she could see it?

I love Gideon very much, but she is an unreliable narrator. How does she want to know that? The fact that she narrates the whole book implies, that she can see The Body as well... And The Body is surely not visible to anyone else. Sure, dor The Body, it's kinda clear that it's not visible to anyone else (SINCE NOBODY EXCEPT HARROW NOTICES IT), and for Cytherea's body we have less evidence. Still, Gideon lives in Harrow's mind and can obviously see things other's don't see. Her information is not trustworthy.

Ianthe is also not trustworthy, but that doesn't mean that she didn't say the truth that time. So let's look at the facts:

Something's odd with the body. And by "odd" I mean "really odd". It starts with the fact that it just casually walks through the Mithraeum, when we see it for the first time:

Ahem, Wake, not gonna criticize you, but... Don't you think it's a little dangerous for your identity as a dead corpse, if you walk through a space ship WHERE LITERALLY ANYONE COULD SEE on your way? Except if you... Weren't visible to anybody... And only Harrow could see your for some reason...

The next thing! It's explicitly stated to the Lyctors looked for it one the whole ship! Since the corpse is an old friend of them, you'd expect they'd have a certain interest to find it...

They shall have looked everywhere, but NOT under Harrow's bed? (To be honest, since they don't really trust Harrow, you'd expect it would be one of the very first places to look for it.)

+ Jod couldn't detect it anywhere? (Well, it's Jod, it could be a lie, but why should he lie about that?) That's actually the BIGGEST hint, that something's necromantically odd with the body. It apparently can camouflage itself from being necromantically detected BY GOD HIMSELF. (Why shouldn't it also could make itself "invisible"?)

One another thing! (Or actually: several another things, that fit in the same category.) Physically things don't seem to affect her sometimes.

Like for example the wards. Why don't they affect her? Gideon seems to think they should. (Again: she's an unreliable narrator, but still, it's a hint)

Or the bone cuffs? You would expect as a physical being she should need to break them to escape. But they appear to be untouched. As if she'd just slipped out...like a ghost.

And let's look on the "Gaslighting" scene once again. Before, Wake-in-Cytherea is described as walking very clumsily:

How can she silently disappear, suddenly, in the three minutes Harrow needs to calm down in the bathroom? (Like THIS!) Something's off with the disappearing, that's for sure.

And there's also the last thing, which is actually what brought me on the Cytherea-wasn't visible train. Let's assume for a moment that Ianthe does lie about the corpse to Harrow, okay? That she CAN see it, and that she intends to invalidate Harrow's experience to make Harrow believe her perceiving wasn't trustworty. What's exactly was gaslighting is btw! (Although it's really questionable why she should do that, since Harrow obviously already doesn't believe that, one, and second... You would think that such a mysterious walking corpse is a HEAVY security risk - not only for Harrow, but also for Ianthe! - so that she better should accept it's existence if she'd see it. But okay.) If she wants to do that, why does she try to validate Harrow's perceiving in a scene before? Hm?

What she says means very much. "I believe you that the corpse HAS been moving. (I believe YOU!) But it doesn't have to be such a sinister thing as you think. Maybe there's a completely harmless explanatation for it (Like necrophilia.)" It's a try to calm her down and reassure her. How does that fit together with the destabilising of gaslighting? It doesn't fit at all...

To conclude: I believe the corpse WAS there. I mean, it must have gone somewhere after the strike on ""Ortus"", and why shouldn't the location be under Harrow's bed? But I'm not so sure, to not say that I doubt that the corpse was visible to anybody. There are just...to many strange things. I couldn't really explain what she did (someone else suspected different layers of the River as an explanatation, what I find very interesting - if you have an other theory: go ahead! I'm very interested to see it) but I really think she did something. Some things only make sense if she was either very careless or invisible and some things absolutely don't make sense without anything being strange about her.

But how to interprete Ianthe's expression during what she says (which could btw another point for the theory that the corpse wasn't visible)? I've often heard people say that Ianthe would lie about the corpse, because she thinks it would be funny to gaslight Harrow. But I ask you: does she look as if she had fun here?

My personal theory is... That she is concerned. And probably specifically concerned about her participation on the lobotomy. I mean, imagine you had played around in someone's brain with some sharp tools... Wouldn't you be concerned you've BROKEN something, if that someone would suddenly start to come up corpses which ""don't exist""? It's even a concernment she tells Harrow before. An outcome, she WOULD NOT LIKE:

I am very sure she thinks - what's not true, but I think she thinks it! - that she has damaged something permanently in Harrow's brain. (During the lobotomy.) But she can't say that, because of her vow and the Sewn Tongue. (And maybe a little bit of shame, if life is fair.)

PS: if you have any other theory, feel free to share it!

The majority said I should make this post, and I bow to the majority! I remember there was a post which included some of these points, but it seems to be gone. I feared mine could become too similar (although these *are* my points), but now that I've done it I see, that it's not so similar at all. (If someone gives me the link, I can paste it in [place where I'd paste it in]).

[rin-and-jade]

Love-Me, Love-Me-Nots Daisy : A Guide on Navigating In-Sys Relationships

Romantic relationship, situationship, friendship, kinship, partnership.. There's way too much to list in just one sentence!

Here's a random fact for this topic; People say first impression is reliable to know of the other person, and surprisingly they're only 51% accurate when it's about judging wether a person is extroverted. But will you be able to judge better when it comes to your own alters as you technically live in the same headspace?

All that aside, this post will address inner relationships as a whole. Use this chance to see this topic outside of the romantic stereotype that we always see! (X-mas Activity included)

FAST PASS: Not available--this is an important occasion, read the full post!

What's a "relationship" with no romance, then?

according to this quote,

"a continuing and often committed association between two or more people, as in a family, friendship, marriage, partnership, or other interpersonal link in which the participants have some degree of influence on each other’s thoughts, feelings, and actions." - Merriam Webster

Basically, it means there's atleast two people committing with the connection they have formed with each other to qualify as a relationship, no matter the form.

When it comes to systems, it is up to themselves to see alters as separate people, or as different versions of itself,, the idea still can be applied here: as rebuilding the connection you lost/dissociated with your yet-to-be-integrated personalities/facets.

Being a system is a relationship already?!

Well--yeah!

But let me explain a bit here.

As a complex living being, our brain is made to adapt through tasks that requires multifaceted thinking. This would mean you would incorporate both logical and emotional thoughts, curious and cautious perspectives, and any behavioral or social habits or patterns you have learnt which all condenses into one singular conclusion or action that seems to be the best for a current situation--which is also dependent on how your thought processes work.

That is the basic depiction of integrated thinking to agree on a solution, but for systems--this is fragmented, leaving short-sighted solutions based on each facets, which bypasses the "filter" to integrate multiple ideas as one. Now, creating many different solutions or outcomes you could take, which is equal to the amount of alters actively participating on the discussion.

I... guess you're still confused, which is why i prepared this visual representation:

This should explain everything i had described beforehand. Now im not sure if the quality is the best..

So yes, as a complex being, you had already own different views which take skills to talk it out into one unified resolution.

Especially, if your different views you have can influence what actions, feelings, or reaction you get. That's your own emotional and mental dynamic when it comes to navigating your own map of thoughts. A literal relationship with the self..!

Eg. "I love this food! But i can't eat too much or else i'll feel sick" When you have a passion of food driven by emotional resonance, you still have a logical side that completes the thought to exact a reasoning without over-eating.

A.. Self Relationship..?

It's not a cringe thing at all. Trust. No cap.

There's literally a concept named self-care, which focuses on maintaining your health, emotional wellness, and enrichment in your life. Another term accepted widely by society is a self-date where you treat yourself similarly like a partner, focuses on practicing self love--this one would talk about how do you approach your different views (or alters, for systems), as a form of self regulation and processing.

To put this within context, you're a system, and, that means there are multiple parts of yourselves (or people) that are separated through dissociative barriers. This means you are disconnected with the majority of your multifaceted nature,, which also means you do not have a good relationship with yourself.

Simply put, this is where you learn to meet your needs again. As described from the hierarchy of needs by Maslow.

--

From a more general view, a negative relationship with yourself looks like:

A sense of distrust with your gut feelings

Unable to accept certain feelings or traits of your own

Self-blame/hate

Ignoring/neglecting your emotional and mental health

Unsure of your likes, dislikes, or favorite things

Not allowing yourself to be authentic (masking)

Operates in shame and focusing on failures

Not feeling you have worth or deserving of good things

Internal suppressing (notable for alter dynamics in systems)

System things that branch out from a negative relationship with yourself additionally appears as:

Fighting for front with different parts

Oftentimes arguing, playing down other's opinion

Feeling uncomfortable around headmates

Crippling sense of loneliness/disconnection amidst your alters

Things like shame, guilt, negative opinions of others, or poor treatment often shapes an unhealthy relationship with yourself.

The reason behind this is when your external environment is an enemy (eg. instead of supporting, you're being blamed) to you and your integrity, you may consciously or unconsciously pick up behaviors where you must abandon yourself to appease others and survive better, which means you have been taught to be an enemy of your own in order to live. Absolutely not nice.

Oh god. Can i ever break from this habit?

Ofcourse you can, but oftentimes your system are not in terms with some or most alters at the first place. It is normal to have a difficult or a conflicted dynamic within your other selves, and, you totally can shift this negative relationship with your own parts into a healthier and cooperative one!

It's better to take it nice and slow--i'll briefly show the steps on how to start demolishing this tensioned dynamic:

Inspire yourself with the idea of how working together would help in tackling difficult days.

Be aware of your negative thoughts or reactions when interacting with your parts, make sure that you don't act out on it. Also take this as a sign to un-learn some sabotaging or passive aggressive behaviors!

Help bringing awareness to the collective of their reactive behaviors, and reflect what can be done to increase better communication without conflict involved.

Parts often listen to their own egos--not caring about other alters and doing impulsive things while fronting. Bring clarity to how their actions impact the collective, and even themselves at the future. This would help foster more teamwork.

After some degree of awareness and cooperation has been established, do small acts of kindness for each other to strengthen the bond. This is also a good time to give roles and jobs, ensuring trust and that your back is covered.

The rest of this phase is up to you and how your natural dynamic and system works, good luck!

Waddya think of in-sys romance then..

We've briefed ourselves on what relationship constitutes as, and what does it mean generally to systems. Which means, In-sys partners and their romantic relationship is a valid (plural form) of fostering self love, akin to self-dates.

A good cooperation with your alters means a good relationship and terms with any alters you have--wether they have a purpose or not in your system. When it comes to internal romance situations, it focuses as a specific integration that your alters are going through. This will create a fusion between two or more headmates due to the dissociative barriers between them broke down.

It takes a long way to start loving yourself after years of internal disputes and conflict which perpetuates the high dissociation with each other, don't feel ashamed of it!

Are romantic relationships mandatory?

No they are not, but they are one of the most intimate, personal forms of self bonding. You still can heal and bond through cooperation and camaraderie, and everyone's styles are different, so let's not judge 'em.

Of course, romantic relationships within your system offers some pros that a normal comrade-dynamic cannot replicate:

Deeper understanding of your alters emotionally

Getting your love-needs met when you never received any proper care

Often faster to start integrating than a typical relationship

Another way to work around negative sense of worth and habits

Definitely, with some cons too:

Some alters are not compatible together, which creates friction

Unresolved habits or beliefs that blocks them from truly embracing love and care

Often frowned upon to have in-sys partners by communities, that prevents them from fully immersing in it

It brings up uncomfortable or painful truths or unresolved trauma, then to be faced and healed from

Not an extensive list, but you now got the idea. Use this list to prepare or broaden your knowledge on what romantic relationships look like!

Lastly. Did you also know that you can have parental dynamics in your system? it is similar to the romantic one, yet now driven with a different kind of love, just like a caretaker with their child parts. They are also important to heal, and feel safer after having trauma from younger times.

Takeaway & Together Activities

At the end of the day, no matter how many daisies you've plucked, a flower can't tell what's the answer to your internal relationships--romantically or not, for your system.

How do you see system dynamics differently now? There are many lessons packed in one posts that you could bring home. I definitely think that internal relationships are rarely discussed, so i gave it my all to create this entire topic, consisting of different system dynamics!

Lastly, internal relationships don’t need to be limited to serious work--they can also be fostered through shared joy and celebration! With Christmas approaching, here’s the five-day activity plan to build your bond together as i promised previously:

DAY 1

Reflect on how far you've all come. The year is coming to an end, what are the proudest moments or milestones of your system journey this year?

DAY 2

The day after reflection, what gratitude do you have for your alters? It's best to let them know you truly appreciate their work and efforts to keep things afloat before new years--let them know you feel supported by them, and willing to support them back!

DAY 3

Discuss how you would spend the whole day with others/your partner. Do you like outings? Watching movies? Or do you have multiple recommendations to do? Even if you are limited to night time only, go for it! You deserve a day to do the things you want.

DAY 4

There's one day left before the famous holiday, Take a moment to ponder on what you could get for others--if there's no money, consider a homemade gift like a memorial art, or letters,, make sure to keep them a secret before the day.

DAY 5

Don't forget to give each other's presents if you have prepared from the day before. Any consumables are also allowed to be bought on this day. Merry Christmas everyone!

On a personal note. This post took two weeks- augh-

- c

[pomrania]

So, ah, it's been a while; but this will be finishing it off, for this year.

THE ANTARCTIC: A Fangame? by @ringedretrospective I am genuinely curious if this IS a fangame OF something; and if so, what, because "penguins fighting against angels in the long day, and other penguins in the long night", sounds RAD AS HELL.

Core Competence by @rathayibacter I always like "pick a beneficial trait, and take the detrimental trait which comes along with it", and that's like the base concept of this whole thing. It'd benefit from some examples -- ideally a wide range of skills and their corresponding restrictions to choose from -- but that's what you get with a 200-word limit (and also "coming up with good examples of stuff" is hard work).

Dagobert et Saint-Eloi by @bossarmadimon It's things like this which make me glad I can read French at a functional level. I highly respect the mindset of "doing it because someone said it was impossible", plus the game itself seems like fun. I'm probably missing a LOT of the context, since my exposure to francophone culture consists of two non-sequential months spent in Quebec in the mid-late 00s.

Destiny: Keep Dusk by @notsomeoneyouknow I already liked this just from the title; I've a weakness for things that are just synonyms of what they're based on. I love the concept of picking a Summons by just getting a random wikipedia article. Everything else feels like it would be hilarious if I knew more about Fate Stay Night.

Earth, Sun and Rain Grow a Plant by @cornishpatsy I just really like the bit about how it works out to okay if there's two much of two different specific things, because it balances out.

Expert Professional Liars by @souridealist I appreciate something that starts with "here's a weird thing to use as a randomizer" and then continues to "what type of thing would most fit with the results pattern given by this".

from nothingness by @kalinary That's something I don't think I've seen before, where everyone gets randomly assigned a trait and THEN only one person gets to keep it, I'm assuming here that it's their "true" trait and not something they were just "acting as" in the moment, going by "best embodied". I always love coming across new shiny concepts.

I'm an English Major, Not a Scientist! by @coopbella This concept amuses me. Like, I always love "everyone is secretly an X pretending to be a Y, and they think everyone else is actually a Y", but "librarians on a submarine" is great.

Interlocked Fates by @thefaewriter I respect the idea of having a bunch of games all together, which are all linked. But more than that, I like all the "again" in the vampire one; you can TASTE the frustration and annoyance with those damn vampires, and I love it. The rest of the stuff seems pretty good too.

AN INTIMATE INTERPLAY OF SWORDSMANSHIP ATOP A SUNLIT PEAK by @seth-a-nahk I really like that dice mechanic here. That's… not much to say, but there's not much TO say; it's not like I write a poem extolling the virtues of baked goods every time I eat a cookie, even a really yummy cookie.

Naive Rules to Argumentative Fantastical Play by @meticulac From the notes about this, it seems really cool; I love the concept. From the text of the game itself, however, that… wasn't so clear. This is another of those games that would really benefit from some more words; this one in particular, I want to read a version of it done WITHOUT a word-count limit, because some ideas simply can't be compressed beyond a certain degree without losing what makes them worthwhile (compare the album art done for vinyl records, vs the album art done for things that will play online and it'll mostly be seen in thumbnail), and I don't know what its "full proper size" would be.

On God's Desk By End Of Days by @krawkpaladin There were a bunch of things posted on the last day of this event with the theme of "oh frick it's nigh the deadline and stuff still needs to get done" (for obvious reasons). This one though actually feels like its own game, prolly due to the setting/concept (which is cool).

Prototypes by @derpravener I do not care about mech stuff; I don't HATE it, I just don't find it intrinsically cool. That being said, I like this, with the different options it has available to choose from.

Quaint Seaside Town Stuck In A Time Loop by @believerindaydreams Gotta say, "changing up who you are and what your role is" WORKS for a "stuck in a time loop" situation, can't believe I'd never seen that before. (One thing I need to point out, though: d66 means "roll a d6 for the ones place, and a d6 for the tens place", and leads to a total of 36 possible results, not 66.)

Secret Agents of the 60s by @wrrdbrrd I can't articulate what exactly I like about this, but I like it.

Sneaky Snack by @blueberrybananasmoothie This is simply DELIGHTFUL, large smile on my face.

TANGERRITORIAL by @certified-llama-chauffeur I'm just impressed that someone managed to figure out a way to make a TANGERINE part of a game. And the whole thing seems pretty functional, which… isn't a given for this event, and ESPECIALLY isn't a given for weird gimmicky stuff.

!(Zombie Apocalypse) ? Proceed As Usual : CYOA by @that-house I fucking hate Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and I have ever since I was a child; it doesn't matter the quality, I just hate the whole genre or medium or whatever it counts as. Still, I have to respect someone who manages to a) write this and b) get it all within the wordcount.

So that's it for the stuff from this event; I've talked about all the ones I found interesting enough to talk about. If I've mentioned one of your games on here or on the previous thread, and you want further feedback on it, feel free to hit me up. If you have a game I didn't talk about here... I can still give you feedback if you wish, I just likely won't have much to say and/or a decent chunk of it would be criticism, but it's your choice.

Continuation from my previous thread (because it got long), of stuff from @200-word-rpgs that I find interesting.

THE CURSE: A Rabbit and Steel Fangame by @ringedretrospective I'm not sure I've even HEARD of "Rabbit and Steel" before, let alone know what it's like. But having "apologize for what you did last night", as the single sentence for the "day" phase, amuses me greatly.

Make Brown by @thee-rat-king I like colour stuff; I also appreciate how "should or shouldn't end up brown" is a 50% thing determined at the start of the game. And that's just SUCH a cool concept, how one player gets their colour combined with that of the other.

Paleolithic Fantasy by @cavetalesz I agree with the writer (whose url is PERFECTLY fitted for this game), we need more stuff set in this… setting. And also more FANTASY stuff in that setting; heck, if we're going from the thing we commonly see in fantasy of "magic has been fading from the world", then the earlier back we go, the more room there is for magic (and also it's not like there's any written documentation to contradict it). As to the game itself, I appreciate how the "stuff you find" table includes entries with relevant stats, and then at the end there's just "the antlered man", no detail given.

Elegy For A Better Yesterday by @notsomeoneyouknow I don't have enough familiarity with John Woo movies to properly appreciate this. But from the design notes, it seems like a lot of thought went into mechanics that properly match the theme.

Mires by @i-exist-for-spleen and manguypersondude I appreciate something that, as they put it, turns "how partial a GM is inevitably going to be" into a feature and not a bug. Also, something that started with a design requirement ("no dice math") and then built from there. And yeah, when you just stumble upon a theme or concept that ties everything neatly together, that is SUCH a good feeling; the spark of inspiration that lights up the tinder you've prepared from your own efforts.

You Know How This Story Ends by @indraklyr I just think it's cool; everyone has things that will happen, then those things get placed in an order, then you play out how the things happen.

You Sunk My Battleship! by @ineffable-gallimaufry Gotta respect something that finds a way to turn BATTLESHIP, of all things, into an RPG.

[beardedhandstoadshark]

I need a new niche interest to obsess over and I’m not able to pick. Can you infodump about your own hyperfixations so I can adopt one of them?

Just to ask something here, because between the last ask about hyperfixations and this one I found out that’s actually strictly an adhd term, right? Cuz regardless of suspicions I kinda don’t really have an official diagnosis or anything, so answering this ask As Is seems a bit like indirectly pretending I do, which seems?? Kinda mean to lead you on like that?? So, yeah. Just wanted to clarify/apologize/make sure everything’s cool and comfy here

But anyways, infodumping! I mean, there’s the usual, the videogames, kirby, pokemon, Zelda, minecraft, etrian odyssey- but those are like half this blog anyways and minus the last one not very niche so I kinda doubt they’re gonna be interesting. Uhhhhhhh if the following isn‘t doing it for you please tell me and I‘ll try to find something else, but otherwise

DID YOU KNOW CUCUMBERS ARE CACTI!?

Well not really. But I’m growing some right now and a) their leaves a *gigantic* and b) they’re very fuzzy but also kinda rough because of their hairs, while their stems are full on prickly- I’m guessing it’s a safety mechanism because the cucumbers grow very close to the stems so it makes sense, but having tiny plant-glass shards in your hand still hurts lol. Also depending on the sort, the cucumbers themselves can also have actual spikes. Their flowers are really pretty, they’re big and yellow with 5 leaves, kinda remind me of hibiscuses without the middle thingy. There’s usually separated male and female flowers (unlike tomatoes or peppers) but some variations are bred to only produce female flowers that pollinate themselves, and when they need the male ones for their seeds they make the plants grow those by using silver-ions, which sounds kinda metal ngl (pun absolutely intended). Also their tendrils? Twines? Are super strong for how tiny they are compared to the plant, if they feel something climbable they really latch on to that and don’t let go. They’re actually touch sensitive, kinda like Venus fly traps. Not as instantaneous though lol, it does take a bit of time.

I’ve also got two begonias that I saved from getting thrown into the trash, and apparently their flowers are edible…?? They are really pretty though. And change colors depending on sunlight! They’re apparently supposed to be sitting in half-shadows but mine are taking the sunlight pretty well and turns out if they get a lot, the plant gets redder- not just the flowers but also the leaves and the stems! They’re also male-female separated, with the male ones having differently shaped leaves (and I think I also counted 5 instead of 4?) that’re on top of a capsule holding the seeds, which are microscopically small! You can barely see them and gotta "plant“ them by brushing them like super fine sand. Also apparently another way of growing new ones is by just. Breaking off a branch and sticking it in the mud? Which is?? Super weird??? Because these guys are very fleshy and on normal difficulty, while the only other plant I know you can clone like that is my bow hemps.

And those guys are basically indestructible. Like, normally that credit goes to cacti but those need light. Meanwhile my big guy‘s been hanging out in my no-light-after-11am-room all this time and doing great. They only need water once a week normally but I forgot yet because it’s been sitting in shadows this guys been groovin though 3 weeks. There’s even a tiny baby plant growing! They only grow a single flower per cluster so the main way of getting more is by either chopping said babies away from the mother cluster, or by chopping leaves horizontally so you get stripes, and sticking those in soil. Apparently it can take months until something grows, though. Also when you use this method with the sort that has yellow stripes on the side, it‘ll lose those stripes? Even though the leaf stripe (and therefore the genes) has that yellow in it? Couldn’t find why that happens yet, but it’s interesting. The only way to really screw up with them is either bugs in the soil (though they can tank those too to some degree), or getting too much. Nutrients, but mostly water. It’s better to use pots that‘re a bit tighter and also have holes underneath because the biggest threat is rot, either root or stem rot. That’s also why you shouldn’t give them (or any plants that grow in this circle form) water from above, because it’ll get stuck inside the center and cause rot. It’s better to fill something up with water and put the pot inside, that way you also don’t risk giving them too much water and having it soak your entire floor/desk/etc. Also pots with holes are just better in general because all flowers got the same "too much water = drowned roots“ problem. (Except for my begonias for some reason which frequently get their entire soil drowned and still grow like nothing - even though they’re supposed to take it especially bad?? Not complaining though, just confused)

And tomatoes are berries which makes a lot of sense if you think about it but also feels horribly wrong since they’re neither sweet nor sour

[transmascutena]

people talk about miki's shirtless touga fantasy from episode 5 somewhat often, but i didn't realize that it's pretty much directly paralleled in episode 36, except with touga thinking about akio and utena, rather than miki thinking about touga and anthy (and kozue by extension). and the parallel makes a lot of sense since the two situations are similar in many ways. miki and touga are both being convinced to duel to possess someone (thinking they are actually protecting them) to make sure they (utena and anthy repsectively) won't "belong" to someone else. and like he does in many other ways during the first arc, touga is playing at akio's role in that scene, only to realize he's a victim of it too towards the end of the show.

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[onceinawhilemoon]

*punches the fuckinf WALL*

You know what else, I've been thinking a lot about what Sherlock says to Mycroft in this ending:

"This is where we differ, Mycroft. To you, the ends justify the means. To me, the means have DECIDED the end."

When Mycroft said, "the ends justify the means," he meant that lying and hiding the truth from Sherlock (the means) was a necessary evil, because it allowed his little brother to thrive and lead a functional life with his support and guidance, on his way to becoming one of the greatest men in all of England (the ends). But here it's like Sherlock is telling him that everything Mycroft has ever done for him—all his sacrifices were in vain because Sherlock’s end (life in prison) has been decided from the moment he stirred a few extra drops of sedatives in his mother's tea..

It's like... he's not only throwing away his own life, he's throwing away a huge chunk of Mycroft's, too. He's also disregarding the sole reason and purpose Jon even exists in the first place. And worst of all (imo), he's fulfilling Vogel’s “doomed to fall” narrative, which he has been (literally) painting for him since day one..

With this single action he conveys to his brother that all his sacrifices didn't matter, the entire purpose of Jon didn't matter, and he proves that Vogel was right all along, making his once powerful statement "I remain, despite you, and to spite you" sound weak, unsure, and a lie, because in this ending, Sherlock doesn't "remain," he actively commits himself to rot and decay. He doesn't spite anyone but himself, least of all Vogel. He disregards everything good anyone's ever done to him and rejects all forms of love. Sometimes, I think this is even worse than him shooting Jon. It's one thing to bury your innocence and self-love, but to completely lose your sense of worth that you become literally ABANDONED by the personification of your will to survive and flourish is on a whole other level of messed up imo...

This doesn't even begin to unpack why I can't swallow this ending, lol. I myself can't fully explain it. I think I, much like Jon, just can't bear to witness someone destroying their lives so... deterministically. losing themselves to a moral philosophy to the point where they're unable to see their own value or how much they're loved and protected and well looked after, to the point where they see an act of kindness and protection and preservation of wellbeing and a promising future (bailing him out) as doing them an "injustice".

I still think despite the harsh and bleak picture that this ending paints, it holds itself to realism because (much like the Jon Did It ending) Sherlock's self-destructive actions seem like a visceral and unfiltered response to the trauma.. and it's just... can I fucking hug him please?

That one ending of Sherlock Holmes Chapter One, where he comes to the conclusion he killed his mum, is so deeply silly to me. I understand him wanting to be brought „to justice“, like okay he is reeling from finding out he was, however unintentionally, responsible for his mother’s death and all the complicated emotions tied up with that, fine. But the implication that Mycroft had to somehow bail him out and he was banished from Cordona as a result after turning himself in?

Like imagine with me for a second, you are an officer of the law. A young man, around 20 years of age, comes and confesses to having murdered his own mother. He says she died of an allergic reaction to the medicine he administered to her. Oookaay... I see... was it, like, some black market shit? No, he says it was what her doctor prescribed, she’d been ill for a while and he was apparently branching out. Alright, so that's barely even a crime, certainly not murder, but the young man is clearly in shock. You are a bit overwhelmed with what is clearly some sort of nervous breakdown, so you just go with it for now. You ask him exactly where and when this happened. He tells you it happened at his home - ten years ago. 😑 Sir, please leave, you’re wasting my goddamn time. Talk to a shrink about it.

Although maybe then he punches you for not taking this seriously and gets thrown in jail for assaulting a police officer. His older brother has to come in to explain the situation and apologize profusely. Alright Sir, just take him home, he’s clearly got more than a couple screws loose… and make sure he doesn’t come back to waste all our time again! You probably make him pay some bail money, but mostly, you're just mad you had to do all this work over nothing and want them out of here asap

And Sherlock overdramatically relays this to us as „Mycroft preventing justice from being served yet again“ and „banishment from Cordona“

That is canon to me now lmao, at least as far as this ending is concerned

[squorttle-pox]

idk if it means anything really, but i think it's interesting how after all their time together as a couple in a christianity-adjacent world, lucifer and lilith only had one (1) child, and it was only 200 years ago at that

[bmpmp3]

everyone on earth probably has a hypothetical farming sim in their mind's eye that they daydream about on occasion because of the unfortunate situation that despite there being like a thousand farming games released every minute only like 4 of them are any good. and i think this is fun, i think its good to keep the imagination alive. if i made a farming sim i would bring back rival marriages from the old friends of mineral town. i want to steal someones wife.