#star wars fatal alliance
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#swtor#star wars fatal alliance#star wars deceived#star wars revan#star wars annihilation#polls#thinking my personal ranking would go fatal alliance. deceived. annihilation then revan
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if eli shows up in any potential sw projects post thrawn getting stranded space whale style i think he should get to stab thrawn. eli deserves to partake in a bit of violence.
#anywhere is fine#fatal or nonfatal#star wars#also thrawn deserves it#what is that heir to the empire shit u freak#star wars ahsoka#ahsoka#heir to the empire#thrawn#tales of the empire#eli vanto#eli n vanto#thranto#mitth'raw'nuruodo#grand admiral thrawn#thrawn ascendancy#thrawn trilogy#thrawn 2017#thrawn alliances#thrawn treason
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Hey lovely!! Could you do a Cassian Andor x (f) reader? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers. I like the whole “you annoy me and piss me off” relationship that ends up in a situation where they are stuck together for something and end up in a fight where they suddenly realize they have feelings! I love allowing creators to have their own space to create, so if you wanna do something else entirely, please feel free too!!
❤️ take care of yourself
Thank you SO much, this is a great request! I am a sucker for enemies to lovers too. I hope you don't mind, but I had a similar Cassian request from Anon at the same time about Cassian x Reader having to go undercover to Canto Bight as a couple which I thought would work well with yours so I merged them. (Anon, I also hope you don't mind the merging and that you can find this ok as I don't know if/how I can reply to two asks in the same post?)
Also, I want to thank everyone who has interacted with my writing so far.
Requests for Character x Reader fics are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Keep 'em coming.
-Birdy
Title: Charade
Fandom: Star Wars
Setting: Between Andor and Rogue One
Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Enemies to lovers; Action/adventure; Fluff
Warnings: Moderate sexuality; moderate swearing; mild violence/peril; brief mentions of loss of family/friends by Reader.
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Female Reader
Chapters: 1/1 (Complete)
Word Count: approx 10k (oops)
Summary: You and Captain Cassian Andor have to negotiate your personal differences and difficult history when you are both assigned to go on an undercover operation to the Galaxy's playground for the super-rich, Canto Bight, as a married couple.
Prologue
Your first mission as a spy for the Rebel Alliance has taken you to Carida. The objective; to infiltrate and sabotage the Imperial Naval Yard there then get out as quickly and quietly as possible.
As it turns out, the mission is doomed from the outset. An Imperial mole who somehow dug their way into the very heart of Rebel Command on Yavin 4 has alerted the Empire to your plans.
Your team of six hardly made it five kilometers from the rust-bucket of a ship Rebel Leadership had assigned to you when you were intercepted by an Imperial patrol.
The firefight was brief. The Stormtroopers were green, even more so than you. You wondered with a pang of unexpected sympathy whether they'd come fresh from the Imperial Academy which was also based on Carida. There were far more seasoned combatants amongst your own unit and the fight was over before it had really began.
Still, that's when you'd lost poor Lily to a Trooper's blaster bolt. You're not even sure he was aiming at her. She'd fallen against you and you'd twisted your ankle as you'd spun to the ground following a futile attempt to hold her upright as if that would negate the fatal injury she'd just sustained.
Now, as you limp up the ridge of the hill you feel a swell of relief as you see that you are almost back to the clearing where the ship is stowed. But as you catch a glimpse of the hunk of old metal, you realise with horror that you are not out of the woods yet.
The Empire uses decrepit shuttles just like this one for for training cadets at the Academy. That's why High Command had insisted you take it - to blend in. You'd nicknamed it Tenacity because the old girl just wouldn't die and the name had stuck.
The ancient vessel doesn't do anything quickly until it's up in the air. Then she's sharp as a razor. But she has a complicated manual override for emergency take-offs whereby the crew need pump fuel round the engines a few times using an externally stowed generator.
Good for training Imperial cadets for problem solving and how to make the best of old tech. Not so good for spies who need a quick exit.
You're the engineer, it should have been you who hooked the ship up to the generator. But with your injury you are too slow and so the others went on ahead to start without you. You are sure you gave correct and clear instructions, but in his panic, it looks like Rogdul has connected the ports up all wrong. Dangerously so.
Overhead, you hear the scream of Imperial TIE fighters and you launch yourself into the nearby undergrowth. You count them. Four. They are searching the valley for you. They pass, but they'll be back in less than a minute. It's impossible that they haven't spotted the ship in the forest clearing.
From your hiding place you hear the ship's engines burst into life. Inside, you imagine Rogdul and Anya carrying out hurried pre-flight checks. Baslin is probably taking up position in the gunner's hatch, hoping to see some action.
No, you think. Not like this.
But you can reach the ship and fix the problem. You know you can. The whole thing will blow if you don't and that's not an option.
You dart out towards the Tenacity, but someone intercepts you, slamming into you with a body tackle and dragging you roughly back to cover through the mud. Soon, you're seated up against them, your back pressed into their chest, their arms and legs wrapped around you like a vice.
It's Captain Cassian Andor, you realise, your superior officer and the lead operative on this mission. You'd completely forgotten that he was even further behind the hasty retreat than you, taking up the rear and keeping watch for more Imperial patrols on your tail.
You don't care who it is. You struggle and writhe furiously against him, desperate to get away and stop the impending disaster you can see unfolding before your eyes. But Andor holds you fast against him as if you were a child having a tantrum.
"Let me go, I can fix it!" you scream over the howl of the returning TIEs.
"You can't, it's too late!" Andor shouts back into your ear.
As if on cue, the generator connected to the side of the ship starts to spark wildly, just as you knew it would. You watch helplessly as the fuel cells hidden within the Tenacity ignite with a deafening bang and whoosh of flame as the ship goes up in a hellish fireball.
A second later, the TIEs make their second pass. There's no need for them to bother firing their weapons. The devastation from the explosion is catastrophic.
They do it anyway.
Two years later
You are on approach to Canto Bight, Cantonica's capital city - the Galaxy's playground for the wealthy.
Captain Cassian Andor is in the pilot's seat, following instructions from the flight control tower. You'll sit down in a moment, but right now, you are desperately trying to sort the sticking-up collar of his cream shirt which is made of expensive looking silk.
Irritated, he tries to bat your hand away, but you are persistent.
"Kriff's sake, Andor, just let me do it," you mutter.
"I'm not a child," he says petulantly, but he relents.
There. Now he looks the part in his fine clothes. He's tidied his short beard and moustache so that the stubble is cropped neatly to the sharp contours of his chiselled face. His dark brown hair is neatly parted at the side, although it's perhaps still a little long...
You don't look too shabby either, bedecked in a knee-length silk day dress of sky blue, accompanied by a cloak of dusky purple which is draped elegantly across your shoulders. The Rebellion went to great lengths to fund this operation and they certainly didn't skimp on the provision of suitable attire. It's essential that you fit in.
"I look fine, you look fine, stop fussing," Andor says dismissively, noticing as you smooth out a couple of annoying wrinkles in your dress and swish out the skirt to make sure the fabric is lying properly.
"I think you look lovely," K-2SO, Andor's droid and almost constant companion, pipes up from the co-pilot's chair, "and that Cassian looks like he's swallowed an Endor fire hornet."
"You don't think," Andor retorts, "That's just circuits misfiring randomly in your head..."
K-2 turns to you with a mechanical whirr, and if he had the ability to conjure expressions, this one would read:
See? I told you.
You stifle a laugh and drop down into the passenger seat behind the droid.
The first time you'd met the hulking re-programmed Imperial security droid had been that fateful day on Carida. You and Andor had shivered miserably in silence for hours by the wreckage of the Tenacity as the rain lashed down, making little difference to the fearsome fuel-accelerated flames which devoured the ship. The Empire, in their arrogance, didn't bother to send out a patrol to check the site.
Then, late into the night, K-2 had finally arrived in Cassian's own ship under cover of darkness. With your injured ankle having swollen to twice its usual size, the gargantuan droid had lumbered over, scooped you up, and carried you with surprising gentleness into the vessel. Ever since, you've always enjoyed his company and his sardonic wit.
Your relationship with Andor, on the other hand, has been tumultuous since its inception. He's always been frosty and stand-offish with you. You sometimes wonder if your presence reminds him of the disaster on Carida the way his does to you.
Whatever his reasoning, his uncompromising demeanour has always brought out your worst qualities when you're around him, especially your stubbornness and your dislike of being told what to do. You've never gone so far as insubordination under his command, but when you disagree with him, you have a unique knack for finding your own way to interpret his orders. This always has the infinitely satisfying effect of winding him up.
Anyway, this time won't be like Carida. And despite your personal differences, you and Andor have worked together successfully - though admittedly never harmoniously - many times since.
Your objective is simple enough. You're looking for a business man, Dreylan Balgo. He's not yet thirty, but he's the biggest supplier of Imperial weapons in the Galaxy. You need to obtain his biometric signature and transmit it back to Alliance High Command. They'll then use it to access the designs and blueprints of the weapons his company is designing for the Empire and eventually send agents in as factory workers to sabotage various key elements.
As Andor and K-2 make the final approach to Canto Bight you look out the window. Below you, the dark sea glitters and ahead, the shining spires of the beautiful city glow golden in the evening sun.
You close your eyes as a flash of a childhood memory dances across your brain. You came here with your parents once when you were nine or ten. That's partly why you've been chosen for this mission. You used to move in these circles.
K-2 drops the shuttle neatly on to the landing pad which juts out over the water.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," the droid quips as you exit.
It's winter on Cantonica. As you step out onto the platform, the breeze is chilly but pleasantly fresh and you can hear the steady crash of waves against the cliffs below you.
At the entrance to the structure, you pause a minute to take in the monolithic doors, ornately carved and inlaid with beautiful coloured glass which catches the light of the setting sun with dazzling beauty. The doors open and you and Andor step into the elaborate marble halls of Canto Bight's most luxurious resort as newlyweds Mr and Mrs Race Pax.
**************************************************
The suite you are staying in is as lavish as the rest of the place, but it is small. The coiffeurs of the Rebel Alliance do have their limits.
"What are you doing?" You ask, suddenly stopping your own unpacking to observe Andor throwing an assortment of pillows and blankets onto the ground.
"I'm taking the floor like a gentleman."
"Don't be stupid," you snort, "What if the maid comes in and sees this..." you gesture to the collection of blankets on the floor, searching for a fitting description "...gentleman's pillow fort?"
The most important thing on this mission is that your cover needs to be believable. And, perhaps tantamount to that, if Andor is tired, he'll be even grumpier than usual and you don't think you could deal with that.
He straightens and sighs, repeatedly slapping the cushion he has been plumping with unnecessary force.
One thing you and Andor have never been around each other is shy. Having spent weeks at a time together in miserable, hastily erected camps, cramped transports, and underground bunkers in the service of the Alliance, the necessity of living in close quarters with him stamped that out quick. You've learned to move in each other's personal space with ease and usually without any awkwardness, so you can't fathom why he's making a meal of it now.
He looks at you defiantly for a moment longer before accepting defeat.
"Fine," he says, as he starts to pick up the elements of his makeshift camp bed and throwing them back on the bed, "Fine, but if you snore, I won't hesitate to kick you out."
"If I snore?!"
That was rich.
*******************************************
You and Andor are attending one of Canto Bight's seemingly infinite evening soirees for the rich and powerful. A colourful sea of people in lavish dress are engaged in polite conversation and enjoying expensive beverages in one of the grandest ballrooms you've ever seen.
Dreylan Balgo is here, somewhere. Tonight is a chance to observe his behaviour, get to know his habits and make an initial introduction if possible. Anything that could help you create an opportunity to obtain his biometrics over the next few days.
You are wearing a teal halter-neck gown, a drink in one hand while the other rests elegantly on top of Andor's arm. The silk of his plush evening jacket is smooth under your fingertips and you absent-mindedly fuss with it as you scan the crowd for your target.
Someone says your name. Your real name.
Andor stiffens next to you.
Trying to keep your composure you turn and relief floods through you as you realise it's one of your mother's oldest friends, Lady Sen Prya. It's been years since you've seen her and she must be in her eighties by now, but she hasn't changed one bit. She is adorned in the most grandiose yellow satin gown you've ever seen, complete with matching gloves. Her long white hair falls, twisted in an elaborate braid, all the way down to her waist.
Quickly, you take her gloved hand and squeeze it gently, a subtle message you hope she can read.
"Oh I'm sorry you must be mistaken," you say politely and introduce yourself as Mrs Pax.
Understanding flickers across Prya's face. She always was sharp as a knife and time doesn't seem to have dulled that characteristic one jot.
"Ah of course, child. Forgive me," she says tactfully with all the grace and ease you remember from your childhood, "You look very like a dear old friend of mine. It's nice to meet you. I am Lady Sen Prya."
She reaches a hand up and touches your cheek affectionately with a twinkle in her golden eyes. Then, she reaches out to Andor who brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses it gently.
"Race Pax, it's a pleasure," he says, and there is a genuine warmth in his voice.
He appears to have relaxed somewhat and you are sure it's because he probably recognises Prya's name. She has been funding various elements of the Rebellion for years.
"Now, is there anyone you need an introduction to, before I retire to bed like the old woman I am?"
Prya stresses introduction as if its a code word. And it is.
You look up at Andor questioningly. You hate to ask his permission for anything, but he is the senior operative here. He nods once in ascent.
"Dreylan Balgo," you say.
Lady Prya's eyes light up and you can tell that she is delighted to learn who your indented mark is.
"Well then, follow me, young lovers."
Andor gives that rare smile of his, the one you see so infrequently which reaches all the way up to his eyes where they crinkle at the corners. He likes Prya. Everyone does. That's what makes her so dangerous for the Empire.
You wind through the crowd, following Prya as if she is golden star leading you to your destination. You're suddenly nervous and although you'd never admit it, there is something comforting about how Andor's large hand entwines with your own as he follows your lead through the busy party.
"Dreylan! My boy!" Prya's voice is clear as crystal and cuts through the party hubbub with ease.
Balgo turns from a conversation he is having with several other men. He is a handsome man, dressed in an evening suit of black velvet. He is tall and elegant with piercing blue eyes and a mop of sandy blonde curls.
"Ah! Lady Prya! What a delight to see you," he says gregariously, stooping low to kiss the older woman's cheek.
"And you, my lad," she replies with gracious ease, "Now, I want you to meet a couple of newly weds, Mr and Mrs Pax. I'm certain young Pax here would be interested in discussing business with you boys, although I, for one, find it all very dull."
There is a ripple of smug, amused laughter from the circle of men, and you join in only because you know Prya could negotiate most of these idiots out of any of business asset of theirs she chose to.
Balgo turns his attention to you first, appraising you thoroughly before taking your hand and kissing it with an elaborate flourish. You let out a silly little laugh, ensuring your voice carries an appropriate blend of affluence and air headedness.
Less than a minute you've been in this man's company and you can already read him like a holo novel.
He then greets Andor with boisterous joviality.
"Congratulations, Pax, what a stunning creature you have caught in your net."
Andor chuckles amiably, shaking Balgo's hand.
"It's good to meet you," he says warmly.
This time, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes and you notice that his hand, which has been sitting lightly round your waist, shifts down to just under your hip.
Lady Prya retires to bed soon after, flashing you a wink and a dazzling smile as she sweeps from the room, an ageless vision in yellow.
The conversation and drinks flow. All night, you sense Balgo's eyes on you. Alliance High Command don't officially approve of so-called "honey-traps," and neither do you, but you see no harm in cultivating Balgo's delusion if it opens another window of opportunity. You don't discourage him, directly meeting the furtive glances he casts your way when he thinks Andor isn't looking.
Throughout the evening Andor proves why he is so good at his job. His ability to observe and imitate behaviour is uncanny. He adopts with ease that careless, raucous affectation that only young, wealthy men seem to possess. He hasn't taken more than a few sips of his wine, but he mirrors Balgo's increasingly boisterous body language and bawdy humour expertly.
By the end of the night the two are stomping around the dwindling party with their arms slung around each other's shoulders, swaying and laughing and singing like idiots.
The night has been a success. You've created a rapport with Balgo.
*******************************************
"Prya was a friend of your family's?" Andor's voice comes unexpectedly from the darkness, "What happened to them?"
It's very late - or early, depending on how your look at it - and you and Andor have just fallen, exhausted, into bed.
You are resting on your left side, as always, and you hear him roll over beside you, so that he is looking at your back.
You are surprised by how accurately Andor has read into the situation with so little information. You don't see any harm in telling him.
"My father owned an agricultural engineering works. One day the Empire came to his factory and asked him to design and build components for some machine they were building, probably a weapon. He refused. They executed him on the spot and took the factory anyway. I did my best, but we struggled and my mother died a few years after of a broken heart. That's when I left to join the Rebellion."
Andor shuffles, the bed shifting beneath you both and you can tell that he's propped himself up on his elbow. You feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.
"You've never told me that before."
"You never bothered to ask," you reply defensively, "I know what you think, what you all think. That I'm a rich brat who ran off to join the Rebellion just to piss off her wealthy parents."
There's a silence.
"Turns out you're only half right..." you finish with a rather bitter self-deprecating chuckle.
To your surprise, Andor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, before you reach across your body to place your hand on top of his, just for a second.
"Goodnight, Cassian," you say.
You rarely use his first name and it feels odd, but not unnatural on your tongue.
"Goodnight."
He rolls back over and is soon snoring softly. You don't fall asleep for a long while, not until you hear the birds begin their morning chorus and the light of dawn starts to creep through the open window with the sea breeze.
********************************************************
You and Andor spend the next morning trying to locate Balgo but he's nowhere to be found. You suspect he is probably in his bed nursing a very sore head.
The last place you try is the Fathier racetrack, although you know there are no races on today. You are glad. You can't stand to see these magnificent animals forced to run like that.
Even so, you are unable to refrain from grabbing Andor's hand in excitement and dragging him over to the nearest pen where a mother and foal are resting in a patch of sunshine.
"A baby," you find yourself saying, stupidly.
Andor laughs quietly at the ridiculous, breathless joy in your voice. You wonder if he's making fun of you, but when you turn to him his eyes are sparkling with a mischievous light.
He gestures to a nearby handler, adopting Pax's air of arrogant entitlement with frightening ease.
"My wife would like to see the animal."
"Of course, sir."
The handler coaxes the foal over and it's tall enough already to reach other the fence. You pat the creature on its nose and between its ridiculously long ears and it nuzzles sweetly into your hand.
"Mr Pax?" You say as you turn to Andor and realise he's hovering a few feet back from the fence.
You gesticulate to him to come over. When else will he get the opportunity to interact with such an animal?
"Oh no, I can see fine from here," he replies with a shake of his head.
Surely not, you think, and you feel your mouth twist into a devilish smirk.
"Are you scared?" You tease.
You sidle up to him and entwine your arm in his before stretching up to whisper into his ear so that only he can hear you.
"Captain Andor?"
Unable to resist your direct challenge he offers you his hand with a resigned, slightly nervous grin. You take it, leading him back to the fence. You guide his palm up to the baby Fathier's nose and the creature sniffs it curiously. You then press it gently against the animal's long forehead. When you let go, Andor continues to stroke the animal softly, his face lit up with an expression of childish wonder.
"Thank you, husband," you say when you both turn to leave.
He gives you a subtle wink and you feel a sudden rush of something close to fondness for him.
********************************************
That afternoon is spent sneaking around the resort's service corridors. You are right at the top of the building and the corridors are narrow and low. It's ridiculously hot and you feel stupid carrying out serious espionage in yet another one of the seemingly endless supply of dresses you've been provided. This one is a horrible pink colour that clings all over and you hate it which is why you've chosen it for this dirty, sweaty work. You know you need to wear something suitable for Canto Bight's grand halls in case anyone sees you on your way to or from the job, but it just feels so unnatural.
Hopefully this shouldn't take too long. All you need to do is wire in a small signal booster to the resort's communications lines. Then, when you obtain Balgo's biometric signature, the data pad can send a transmission to a commandeered, disused Republic satellite to confirm that the sample has been collected successfully.
Actually transmitting the scrambled data to the Rebel base on Yavin 4 needs considerably more power which means, at some point, you and Andor are going to have to hike out to Cantonica's main transmitter mast and send the signal manually from there.
You'd flown past the huge pylon on your way in to land at the resort. It's a monumental thing and you feel a rush of nausea at the very thought of having to climb it...but that's a problem for another day, you decide.
Your head is buried in a control panel, and you're trying to explain to Andor why you need to use a slightly different width of cable than originally planned but he interrupts you mid-flow.
"Can you do it, or can't you?"
"I can do it," you snap back.
"Then just do it, I don't care how."
Charming as ever, the morning's hard won truce between you apparently forgotten. He's nervous and so are you, so you try not to hold it against him. He just wants to get out of here quickly.
There's a sound, and with horror, you realise it's the service elevator doors hissing open. A stern male voice follows soon after.
"Lars, If you're up here slouching again, I'm going to dock your pay."
You and Andor both freeze, staring at each other like Loth cats caught in the headlights of a speeder. Then, without warning he grabs you at the back of your knee, hitching your leg up to rest on his hip, his hand travelling further up the underside of your thigh and underneath your dress as he shoves you against the wall and pushes his body firmly against yours. The other hand flies up to your face, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.
Your gasp of surprise is muffled as he crashes his lips hard against yours. It takes you only a millisecond to understand what he's doing and you kiss him back, twisting your fingers tightly through the locks of dark hair at the back of his head.
At this, a soft groan resonates in his throat and you are almost certain this is unintended. You feel a flash of satisfaction that you've managed to affect him in such a way, then scold yourself for being unable to refrain from point scoring with him, even now.
"Get out of here," Andor growls at the hapless employee, pretending he has only just noticed the man's presence.
His voice is low and husky. As he speaks, you feel his fingertips press into the flesh your thigh. Suddenly, the combination of his proximity and his heady, masculine, familiar scent is overwhelming, and you feel something hot and fierce coil in the pit of your abdomen.
Andor - Pax - has broken away from your lips to berate the man, but he hardly deigns to turn his head to look at the unfortunate employee. You take a moment to study the fine details of his face up close. His pupils are dilated, making his dark eyes gleam like midnight. His nostrils flare slightly with heightened breathing. An uncharacteristic blush is travelling up his neck into his cheeks. You can feel his heart slamming against his chest and your own.
"Oh, uhh... yes...of course," the poor employee sounds terribly embarrassed and all the previous managerial authority has vanished entirely from his voice.
"My apologies sir..."
The man actually stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck to see your face through the tousled mess you've made of Andor's hair before addressing you directly with a courteous nod of his head.
"Madam."
You raise your eyebrows at him politely and give him a ridiculous little wave with your free hand, the one that's not woven through Andor's hair.
You hear the employee blundering off back to the service elevator and the machinery clunks as the doors close and he disappears.
Andor's forehead is gracing your own and neither you nor he move for a moment. It's just long enough to catch the slow glint of recognition in each other's eyes that something new has passed between you and you both know it.
"Sorry," he mumbles as he finally breaks away, running a hand through his hair as if to sweep away the feel of your fingers there, "I didn't have time to ask nicely."
"It's fine," you say, smoothing your stupid dress down and clearing your throat, "Good thinking."
He leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed, as you return to your work in silence.
*******************************************
Evening has fallen and Andor and Balgo are talking animatedly at the bar. The resort is hosting another of its grand parties. You sit with Lady Prya at a nearby table. You don't talk about your new life and she doesn't ask, but the conversation is easy and comfortable and you feel a rush of gratitude that your paths have crossed again.
Once Balgo has left to mingle with other guests, you give Prya an apologetic smile and cross over to the bar where you drape yourself around Andor's shoulders. You lean in to kiss him on the cheek. To anyone else, these merely look to be the actions of a young couple.
In reality, you are providing cover as Andor works quickly with Balgo's empty glass. Earlier, he'd lined the outside of the receptacle with a special gel that picks up biometric data. Once settled on a surface, it is almost imperceptible to the touch.
Andor attaches, then tears away the transfer strip from the glass and quickly places it down on the data pad's receiver. A rather sad and weary boop from the device confirms that it hasn't picked up Balgo's fingerprints.
"Kriff," Andor curses quietly in frustration, a muscle working in his jaw.
"Give it to me."
"What?"
"Give it," you hiss.
Uncertainly, Andor passes the various components of the device to you. You snatch them from his hand, shoving the bits and bobs into your pockets and stride away before he can stop you. The satin of your dress swishes a melody to the click of your heels. You hear Andor swear under his breath.
As you walk, your eyes scan the room, searching for your target. There. A flash of golden hair at the other side of the room. You stalk Balgo through the crowd, waiting for the right moment.
You make your approach, taking out a small mirror from your pocket and quickly squeezing a blob of the clear transfer gel onto your finger before making a performance of patting the strange substance on your mouth like lipstick. You snap the mirror closed and move in for the kill.
"Oh Mr Balgo, I am so sorry!" you exclaim, feigning embarrassment as you collide with his shoulder, jolting him arm so that he spills red wine all down the front of his pristine, white suit jacket.
"Please, Mrs Pax, it's no matter, really," he says as he stays your pawing hands and swoops down to greet you with a peck you on the cheek.
"I really am sorry, Dreylan, I will pay for the damage."
"Nonsense," he scoffs amicably, his chest visibly puffing out as you address him familiarly by his first name, "Now, where has your husband of yours got to? The fool surely hasn't let you out of his sight in that dress?"
Balgo is right, it is a nice dress. Your favourite so far in fact. It is tailored in beautiful crimson satin with a full skirt, off the shoulder sleeves, and a plunging neckline.
"Oh, he's around somewhere, I'm sure."
You lean in and whisper in his ear.
"But he's not here."
He smirks back at you and you see his icy blue eyes light up.
"Shall we get some air on the balcony?" He suggests.
Well, what an unexpected turn of events, you think sarcastically as you accept the proposal with an external show of flirtatious grace.
Out on the ballroom's grandiose veranda with Balgo, you look across Cantonica's seemingly endless, dark waters. The sea breeze is cold, and the businessman drapes his jacket round your shoulders. You laugh at the right times, interject an asinine comment here and there as Balgo talks about business, and allow him to explain things to you that you already know without complaint.
When the timing feels apt, and the balcony is otherwise deserted, you reach up and plant a kiss on his lips. He returns it, placing his hands on your hips. Balgo is attractive enough, there's no doubt about that, and the kiss is far from unpleasant... but it's only a means to an end. There's no passion to it, and you can't help but compare it against the ardent fervour of Andor's embrace. The heat of it.
As you pull back from Balgo with a suitably flushed smile, the gossamer curtains behind him shift in the breeze and over his shoulder you catch a glimpse of Andor across the cavernous ballroom.
He's so far away, but you see him clear as day. His eyes are searing holes in Balgo's back before meeting yours with a look of disdain. He downs his drink and slams the glass on the bar's marble counter-top, stalking off towards the elevator.
You suddenly feel a pang of irrational guilt which makes you furious with him. You're doing your job. The one he failed to do.
Balgo's self-satisfied look of victory does nothing for your vexed and flustered disposition. He offers to go and source a drink for you both. Keeping your composure - you are a spy after all - you smile sweetly at him and agree.
When he is gone, you make sure no one else is around before you take out the transfer paper from your pocket and subtly dab it on your lips. Surreptitiously, you whip the data pad out of your other pocket - thank the stars you'd insisted on dresses with pockets - and press the paper against the reader.
You wait, visualising what the signal might look like if it was something tangible and visible. A little bolt of lightning, perhaps, arcing to the closest service hatch, climbing its way up wires and cables, escaping out into the cold night and up into orbit and the decrepit Republic satellite.
Finally, the device gives you a cheerful bleep and lights up green.
Success.
You'd like to see Balgo's smug face fall when he returns to find you've disappeared, but you don't want this to go any further than necessary. You've got what you need and your sudden absence can easily be explained away as a young wife's crisis of conscience. You leave his jacket on a nearby chair and make your way up to your suite.
*****************************************
When you get back to the room, you can practically feel the heat radiating off Andor as he rips his shirt over his head dramatically in the process of undressing for bed.
Trying to ignore his silent seething, you turn away from him and lift your hair away from the nape of your neck. He automatically moves behind you to help you unzip your dress and, despite his clear agitation, his hands are gentle. The red gown drops to the floor, leaving you standing in your flimsy under-slip.
You turn back to look at Andor, taking in the familiar outline of his body. He's not a huge man, but the muscles are strong and taut in his torso, back and arms. Littered here and there are scars, testament to a hard life lived dangerously. The moonlight streaming through the bedroom window gives his tan skin an ethereal glow and illuminates the sharp, handsome features of his face.
It's not that you don't find each other attractive. You both know that there's always been some unspoken tension between you. But the tempestuousness of your personal and working relationship has always prevented you from falling into anything that might be a mistake.
You are suddenly keenly aware of the obviousness your own form as your underdress clings to the curves and planes of your body. You can sense Andor's eyes roaming across it in a way you're sure they never have before.
You think - maybe - something changed with that kiss you shared this afternoon. An embrace which began as a charade and ended as something else.
"That was a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing to do!" he finally explodes, interrupting your reverie and bringing you back down to reality with a thud.
"It was a calculated risk," you retort, furious with him and internally embarrassed by your silly romantic notions.
"And," you stretch across to the nearby dresser to pick up the data pad where Balgo's biometric data is safely stored to brandish it under Andor's nose, "And it worked."
"In case you'd forgotten, Balgo thinks you're here with your husband..."
"That's why it worked!" You exclaim, "By the Force, men know so little about their own species..."
"You could have blown our cover, the whole operation!"
That riles you. Why can't he just congratulate you on a job well done? You've just saved this damn operation. You have what you need now. All you need to do is transmit the data and you can both get out of here.
"I know what this is," you say, your voice rising in chorus with your anger.
"Oh please, please enlighten me."
"You're jealous."
There's a heavy silence.
"Jealous?!" Andor scoffs finally, but the strength of his conviction has faded from his voice, "Of what?"
"You can't stand that I kissed him."
Andor steps towards you, brows furrowed, eyes alight with something that's not quite anger.
"He's welcome to you," he seethes, "The last thing I need is some highly strung rich girl playing at being a spy."
The words sting, especially after you opened up to him about your parents the other night. Even as the vague idea of restraint flashes through your mind, impulsion compels you to raise a hand to strike him across the face.
He catches you by the wrist as you lash out, pulling you even closer to him so that his sharp nose is almost touching yours.
"And so what if I am?" He continues and the change in direction is so unexpected that you are rendered speechless.
His tone is low and dangerous and his deep, brown eyes are wild, roaming your face desperately for an answer that never comes.
"What if I am jealous? What if I don't want his filthy, Imperial hands all over you? So what?"
Andor's face suddenly softens, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression of genuine turmoil. It's a display of vulnerability you've never seen from him before. His grip on your wrist loosens slightly but he doesn't let go.
When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper.
"What difference does it make to you? Ever since Carida... You despise me."
It's not true, you suddenly realise. It's never been true. Not really.
You want to tell him you've never blamed him for what happened on Carida. The actions of the mole? Not his fault. The failure of that sorry excuse for a ship? Not him either. Somewhere along the way, your perception of him became warped and refracted through the prism of your own feelings of guilt.
You know he saved your life that day. He must have gone through hell in the aftermath too, dragged up in front of various different elements of High Command to explain why only two of his six operatives made it back alive over and over and over again.
More than this, you want to explain that while you were kissing Balgo tonight, you were thinking only of him. You want to say how when you took a shower earlier and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you'd seen the faint, red imprints of his fingertips still lingering like little tattoos on your skin and that you hope they never fade.
But you're just so angry with him for always having to be such a stubborn, patronising, hard-nosed bastard. So you say none of these things.
You know how much it must have taken for him to admit feelings for you, no matter how clumsy and ill-timed the execution. This man who always holds his cards so close to his chest has shown you his hand. He's given you ammunition and all you can think of in this moment is shooting him down with it.
"That's right," you say, leaning in close and whispering spitefully into his ear, "I despise you Cassian Andor."
You regret it immediately. Andor drops your wrist as if he's been burned. As he steps away from you, he looks completely lost. His eyes are cast down at the floor, full of humiliation and hurt. By the time they return to your face, they have darkened like storm clouds.
"Then, I'm glad we understand each other."
You open your mouth to say something, to take back your words and undo the damage you've wrought with your temper. Nothing comes out.
As Andor turns away, you reach out for him, try to catch him by the elbow. He shrugs you off angrily and storms out of the room.
He doesn't come back until late. You pretend to be asleep as he quietly slips into the bed beside you.
********************************************
When dusk falls the next evening, and with Balgo's biometric stored safely on the data pad in your pocket, you and Andor set out for Cantonica's main transmitter.
You want to use the journey time to explain yourself, to apologise to him and admit your own feelings. But you are so ashamed of your careless words the night before that you don't even know how to begin.
Continuing the trend of the day, you walk the ten kilometers together in almost complete silence, trudging in single file along the rocky coastline.
Even so, being out in nature and away from the city feels almost healing to you. Most tourists only see the rugged countryside of Cantonica from the confines of a shuttle. It has a wild, mountainous, windswept type of beauty that you find exhilarating. After days stuck inside the gilded cage of Canto Bight, it is wonderful to be out in the elements, even if it is rather cold and damp.
Night has decsended by the time you reach the transmitter. It is set precariously on the cliff edge, so close to the tumultuous waters below, it seems like a freak wave could wash it away at any moment.
It looks even more imposing than you remember. A huge durasteel spike with a narrow, fragile looking caged ladder stretching up into the sky leading to a high metal gangway which looks just as ancient.
You go first, and as you climb higher, your hands and feet start to feel fuzzy and your breathing becomes rapid, escaping through your lips in short, sharp pants. You've never been good with heights.
The icy wind starts to whip unpleasantly around you and you grip the ladder fiercely with each laboured step. The damp air has made the metal slick and you gasp as your boot slips on one of the rungs.
You catch yourself before you fall, but even so, you are relieved when Andor comes up behind you and positions himself so that his solid chest presses reassuringly against your back as you take a moment to steady yourself.
"Take your time," he says and his tone is gentle, "You're ok."
You nod and exhale deeply. Steeling yourself, you continue your ascent. You can do this.
You finally reach the top of the ladder and crawl up onto the round platform which encircles the pylon of the transmitter to provide access to where the mechanics of the structure are stored.
You think for a moment that this experience is going to be marginally better than the climb up the rickety ladder. That foolish hope is soon proven mistaken. The durasteel grating beneath your feet feels precarious. There are rusted gaps in the metal here and there and your stomach flips every time you look down. The wind is stronger up here, wild and blustery, and you feel horrendously vulnerable. You just want to get the job done and get down from this death trap as soon as possible.
Andor helps you lift the heavy panel off the front of the control box. You sigh with relief. It's a standard set up, one you've seen hundreds of times before and it's easy to bypass. You set to work infiltrating the system and once you're done, you wait in suspense as the data pad blinks text at you.
TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING....
TRANSMISSION SENT.
"It's gone!"
Instinctively, you turn to flash a smile of triumph towards Andor, and you are relieved when one corner of his mouth twitches upwards ever so slightly in return. You wonder if, on the way back to the city, you might find the courage to try and make amends for your rough words the previous night.
Your hopeful thoughts are rudely interrupted when, without warning, the gangway you are standing on shifts violently under your feet. The whole structure lets out an ominous and eerie metallic groan and you realise with dread that the platform is tearing itself away from the pylon.
You have no doubt that you and Andor are the first people up here in years, and that your presence has disturbed the structure from its hibernation and reminded it of its decrepit, fragile state.
You grab at one of the rungs affixed to the main pylon intended for servicing the internal mechanisms, but Andor is too far away to reach. As the walkway peels away, he falls with it. The huge hunk of metal stops suddenly at a right angle to the structure, and the now horizontal guard railings catch Andor as he slams into them with a sickening clang.
There's a brief moment of relief when you think the worst is over, but then the structure jerks violently again as another metal bolt fails, and it tilts just enough to send Andor somersaulting over the top of the railing.
Desperately, he scrambles for something to purchase, and he manages to grasp at the guard rail with the fingertips of one hand as he rolls over it, leaving him dangling helplessly over the roaring water below.
Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop down towards him and your body hits the metal railings agonisingly hard. You ignore the pain and, praying that the railings will hold you, you scrabble to grab at Andor, your hands clutching at a handful of material at the front of his shirt just as his own grip fails.
Unexpectedly finding himself suspended in the air, Andor looks up at you in abject surprise. He assesses the situation and his eyes lock on to yours in alarm as he understands what you've done.
Your shoulders feel like they are slowly pulling themselves out of their sockets and your fingers, numb and white, are twisted up painfully in the material of Andor's shirt. You can't breathe properly, the air in your lungs being crushed out of you as you are pressed into the railings by the pull of Andor's bodyweight below you.
You are terrified that at any moment the guardrail will collapse and you'll both plummet together into the angry sea which seems to wait with open maw like a predator beneath you. But you don't know what else to do, and you refuse to let him fall, so you cling on to him in utter desperation.
"Let go!" Andor shouts up at you, and you can tell it's an order.
"No!" You yell back.
Suddenly, the front of his shirt rips and he drops away so that he is now hanging, almost literally, by a thread. The abrupt and unexpected motion causes you to lose balance and you have to let go of him with one hand to steady yourself on the railings and stop yourself from almost flipping over them to join him.
Andor's eyes are wild and fraught now, flicking between the failing structure and your overwrought face.
"Damn you," he growls with renewed urgency, "let go!"
Your whole body is screaming at you to do as he says, but you won't. Tears sting your eyes, whether from pain or fear, you're not sure. You clench your jaw and shake your head at him.
Andor snarls with effort as he reaches behind him and into his back pocket, pulling out his flip knife. He wrenches it open with his teeth.
"Don't you dare, you stupid bastard!" you scream down at him as you realise with what he intends to do.
He looks at you for one final moment and the world seems to stop. His expression is completely open and readable to you, perhaps for the very first time. His dark eyes glint with a fear that you suddenly realise is as much for you as it is for himself.
Then, he sets his face into a mask of grim determination and with one swift motion, he severs the flimsy cord of fabric tying you together and cuts himself loose.
"Cassian!" The vague outline of his name is torn ragged from your throat in an incomprehensible shriek of despair.
Helpless, you watch as he falls, limbs flailing, down, down, down, until he hits the water below with a sickening crash and disappears into the black, unforgiving waves.
*********************************************
Unbeknownst to you, the Rebel Alliance have successfully received Dreylan Balgo's biometric signature and K-2SO is already on his way to extract you and Cassian from Canto Bight.
By his calculations, K-2 should reach Cantonica in twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and seven seconds. Plenty of time to mull over the conversation he'd had with Murdo the flight technician before he'd left the hanger.
"Maybe this time, eh K-2?" Murdo had quipped as he unhooked the re-fuelling nozzle from Cassian's ship.
"Maybe this time, what?"
"Maybe this time they'll finally have admitted their feelings for each other."
"That is a ridiculous observation," K-2 had said confidently, "They dislike each other immensely."
Murdo had laughed and made a comment about the droid having a lot to learn about human relationships which K-2 had thought was quite rude.
But as he barrels through the hyperspace lanes in Cassian's ship towards the Outer Rim and Cantonica, K-2 has time to mull things over.
He thinks about how on missions when the unit has to set up camp on some remote world, Cassian always leaves your meat rations on the fire just a little longer than everyone else's because he knows you like them so crispy that they're almost burnt.
Then he thinks about how whenever he and Cassian return from a mission you're not assigned to, yours is always the first face the droid spots in the hanger when they arrive back, and that once your eyes land on Cassian, you always walk away without a word, seemingly satisfied.
Now that K-2 really uses his circuits to process it, Murdo's conclusion doesn't seem quite so ridiculous after all.
"Humans," the droid muses to himself with an exasperated shake of his mechanical head.
**********************************************
Somehow, you manage to descend the transmitter, climbing and clambering down the structure in a daze. You don't bother even trying to mask your shouts of distress and frustration as your feet and hands slip on the blasted, kriffing, cursed metal all the way down.
You stagger the ten kilometers back to Canto Bight in something resembling a fugue state. When you reach the resort, you sneak through the back entry port you and Andor left through and wind your way through the maze of service passages and elevators back to your suite.
You are as bedraggled looking as you are distraught and you are glad that the corridors are as deserted as they were when you departed. You don't feel you could negotiate your way out of anything right now, despite all your training.
Once you've climbed out of your damp and dirty clothes you fall into bed. Andor's absence beside you is a stark, raw reminder of what's just happened and you finally allow yourself to cry. Somehow, at some point, as you wallow in your anguish, fatigue takes over and you fall into a torrid sleep.
When you awake, it's still dark and you have the distinct impression that you're being watched. There's someone else in the room with you. You bolt upright and almost cry out as your eyes take in the silhouette of a person in the moonlight.
The ghost of Cassian Andor is standing at the foot of the bed.
Except he's not a spectre, you realise. His outline, though swaying, is solid. He's flesh and blood. He's alive.
Once you've recover from the initial shock, you don't think you've ever felt relief like it in your whole life. You leap up out of the bed and fly to him, just as he starts to crumple to the floor. You grab for him, but too weak to moderate his own movements, he drops like a stone and his momentum pulls you crashing down on top of him.
He's all sand and salt and seawater and he is shivering violently. His eyes are heavy, like he's struggling to keep them open. You touch his face and his skin ice cold. His clothes are wet through and you're suddenly struck by the urgency of the situation. You need to get him warm. Now.
With great effort, you manage to half drag, half shove Andor towards the shower room. He's so exhausted and disoriented that even this appears to be an insurmountable task for him.
When you finally get him there, you bundle him into the shower, fully clothed. He slumps against the wall as you turn the warm water on. You start peeling off the sodden, freezing layers of his clothing.
He hisses through his teeth as you remove what remains of his shredded shirt and you see that the skin on his torso and back is blossoming here and there in vibrant shades of black and blue. You're not surprised, a fall from that height, these are probably bruises from hitting the water hard. You try to be more gentle.
Once he's free of all his clothing, you slide down behind him so that you are against the wall, and he's sat between your legs with his back pressed against your torso. You guide him to bring his knees up to his chest and he wraps his arms around himself pliantly, curling into a tight ball. He's still shaking uncontrollably.
You ignore your own discomfort as the warm water plasters your nightdress to your body like a second skin.
Trying desperately to aid the shower in its work of returning some of his body heat to him, you rub his back, his arms, and his chest vigorously. Every so often he rests his head on the bridge he's created with his forearms across his knees and you have to coax him gently to sit up.
"Stay awake," you plead, "You need to stay awake for me."
Finally, his shivering subsides and you sit in exhausted silence as the warm water continues to pour over both of you. Your chin is resting on his shoulder.
"Cassian," you finally say into his ear, tucking a stray lock behind it as if that will allow him to heed your words better.
He leans back into you, tilting his head up towards your face, to show he is listening.
"I don't....I don't despise you, I don't..." you trail off, silent tears suddenly mingling with the spray from the shower as they start to fall from your eyes.
Slowly, Cassian turns to you. He rolls on to his knees, and sits upright on his heels. You mirror his movements so that you are face to face and your foreheads come to rest against each other's.
"I know," he whispers, bringing a hand to your cheek, his expression soft and full of tenderness, "I know that."
He trails a series of soft kisses down your face, touching his lips to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally down until they reach your own. You melt into him.
This kiss is not like the first you shared, hasty and hurried and fuelled by external forces. This is deep and languid and deliberate, as if you are the only two in existence and you have all the time in the Galaxy to spend in this moment.
One of Andor's hands tangles up in your wet hair, the other presses against the small of your back as if willing you closer to him. You can feel his urgency increasing now. His movements are definite and purposeful as he caresses and kisses your skin.
Selfishly, you want him to continue, need him to never stop. But you also know this might not be the wisest way for him to recover.
"Cassian..."
"You told me I need to stay awake," he argues as if he already knows what you're about to say, now tracing kisses along your collarbone, "I'm awake."
"This isn't exactly what I had in mind..." you protest weakly, but the breathy desire in your own voice betrays you.
"Liar," he mumbles as he nuzzles into your neck and you feel him grin against your skin.
The movement of his lips makes his short beard tickle your flesh and the feeling forces a raucous laugh from your chest. It's a loud, unrestrained, joyful sound.
Cassian pulls away to look at you, wearing an expression of wonder. You realise he's probably never heard you laugh like that before. In fact, you can't remember the last time you heard it yourself.
His eyes crease at the corners and dimples appear in his cheeks as he smiles widely at you. That smile, the one you realise you've adored all along. And this one is only for you.
"You're infuriating," you scold, but your voice is light and full of heady exhilaration.
You wrap yourself around him and kiss him hard, realising, finally, that it is impossible to deny yourself the joy of him any longer.
**********************************************
You and Andor step off the landing platform of the resort and up into his ship. K-2 wastes no time in piloting the vessel up and away from the city.
Compared to the sumptuous surroundings of Canto Bight, the interior of the ship looks admittedly a little dreary by comparison, but you won't miss life within those opulent walls. Not when you now know just how many of its inhabitants are within the insidious clutches of the Empire.
"Well, I hope you two behaved yourselves," K-2 greets you as you both enter the cockpit.
You and Cassian exchange a glance. He winks at you and you actually giggle, the internal glow of happiness you feel manifesting itself in an embarrassing little laugh.
"I'm taking that as a no," K-2 says, "Murdo will be pleased."
"Who the hell is Murdo?" Cassian asks and he drops into the pilot's chair beside his faithful droid.
#cassian andor x reader#cassian andor x female reader#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#cassian andor fanfiction
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guide to tarot
general information ;
- 78 cards in total
- every card has two different meanings based on if they're reversed or not
- sometimes reversed cards reflect the original meaning in a more bad/evil way
the lesser/minor arcana
- 56 cards
- divided into cups, swords, wands and pentacles
- they answer questions of everyday life, they are advisors and their meanings are not as drastic as the cards of the major arcana
- every section of the minor arcana consists of king, queen, knight, page, 10, 9, 8, (...) and ace (of the section)
the major arcana
- 22 cards
- they answer questions about people, the universe, power, magick and myths
0 - The Fool
folly, mania, extravagance, intoxication, delirium, frenzy
reversed: negligence, absence, distribution, carelessness, apathy, vanity
1 - The Magician
skill, address sickness, pain, loss, disaster, self-confidence
reversed: mental illness, disgrace
2 - The High Priestess
secrets, mystery, the future as yet unrevealed
reversed: passion moral or physical ardor, conceit & surface knowledge
3 - The Empress
fruitfulness, initiative, the unknown, difficulty doubt, ignorance
reversed: light, truth, public rejoice
4 - The Emperor
stability, power, aid, protection, a great person
reversed: benevolence, compassion, immaturity
5 - The Hierophant
marriage, alliance, captivity, servitude, mercy, goodness, inspiration
reversed: society, good understanding, concord, over-kindness, weakness
6 - The Lovers
attraction and love, beauty
reversed: failure
7 - The Chariot
war, triumph, vengeance, trouble
reversed: riot, quarrel, dispute, defeat
8 - Strength
power, energy, action, courage
reversed: abuse of power, weakness
9 - The Hermit
prudence, treason, corruption
reversed: concealment, disguise, fear, unreasoned caution
10 - Wheel Of Fortune
destiny, fortune, success, luck, felicity
reversed: abundance, superfluity
11 - Justice
equity, rightness, probity
reversed: excessive severity, law in all departments
12 - The Hanged Man
wisdom, sacrifice, intuition, divination, prophecy
reversed: selfishness, a crowd
13 - Death
end, mortality, destruction, corruption
reversed: sleep, lethargy
14 - Temperance
economy, management, accomodation, moderstion
reversed: things connected with the church, religions, sects, cults
15 - The Devil
inner conflict with oneself, ravage, force, fatality
reversed: evil fatality, weakness, pettiness, blindness
16 - The Tower
misery, distress, ruin, calamity, disgrace, deception
reversed: the same but in a lesser degree
17 - The Star
loss, theft, privation, abandonment
reversed: arrogance, impotence
18 - The Moon
hidden enemies, danger, calumny, darkness, terror, error
reversed: instability, silence
19 - The Sun
material happiness, fortunate marriage, contentment
reversed: the same but in a lesser degree
20 - The Last Judgement
change of position, renewal, outcome
reversed: weakness, simplicity, sentence
21 - The World
assured success, route, voyage, emigration, flight, change of place
reversed: stagnation, permanence
sources and other articles
answering yes or no questions with tarot
thoth tarot deck vs rider waite smith - how do they compare?
easy guide for a rider waite based reading
other tarot guides
/ written by @occultem
#tarot#divination#rider waite#thoth#guide#reading#readings#card reading#future#past#present#witchcraft#occultism#occult#witchy#witches
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Character Profile: Emerald Empress (I)
First Appearance: Adventure Comics #352 (1967)
Background
Born beneath a silver sun on the tropical world of Venegar, a young woman found an ancient relic within a hidden cavern. This object, known as the Emerald Eye of Ekron, promised knowledge and power to the woman, who accepted it eagerly. This woman's name was Sarya, but after using the power of the Eye to take over her planet's government and people, she renamed herself the Emerald Empress.
Venegar's people eventually rebelled against her, and with the support of the United Planets, the deposed Empress was taken away and imprisoned on the planet Takron-Galtos, where she would have remained, were it not for a galactic emergency. When people of exceptional power were recruited to help take down the creature known as the Sun-Eater, Sarya was set free to assist. Afterward, she formed an alliance with four other powered individuals, forming the terrorist group known as the Fatal Five, waging war against the United Planets and their willing lapdogs, the Legion of Super-Heroes.
After the group disbanded due to the death of their leader, Sarya allied herself with another terrorist group, the Dark Circle, and took over the United Planets' artificial planetoid, Weber's World. There, she was once again defeated by the Legion, and was eventually forced to join a new version of the Fatal Five, fueled by new emnity for the Legion, and the desire for more power. All the while, her sanity began to slip away, and the power from the Eye (and the being behind it) began to subsume her personality and sense of identity, causing her to refer to herself as "Eye" from that point forwards.
The Empress went on one final rampage, destroying cities and severely injuring Legionnaires in her wake, more powerful than every before. At this point, the Eye was mostly in control, and Sarya's personality had fractured away from that of the Empress. Finally, after this rampage was concluded, Sarya appealed to Legionnaire Sensor Girl (AKA Projectra of Orando), asking for help from a "fellow royal" to free her from the influence of the Eye. Hidden from its presence via Projectra's illusory abilities, Sarya was finally freed, but at the cost of her life force. Withering away and dying in Projectra's arms, Sarya was finally dead. The Eye, on the other hand, moved on to new subjects and victims craving its power.
Other Incarnations
DC Rebirth: Sarya has appeared in the current comics line, prior to her death, and from a separate universe than the current canon. While her appearance is never fully explained, this is the original Emerald Empress, who is in the present seeking revenge against a time-travelling Saturn Girl, and then against Supergirl (Kara Zor-El) for slights not yet realized. To this end, she forms a new Fatal Five in the modern day DC Universe, but is defeated by the Kryptonians present in the time period. She also served on the Suicide Squad during this time, captured while searching for Saturn Girl.
DC Animated Universe: Sarya appeared with the Fatal Five in the Justice League Unlimited episode "Far From Home", in which she and the rest of the Five involved Supergirl, Green Lantern, and Green Arrow in their war with the Legion of Super-Heroes. Another version of Sarya appeared in this universe in the film Justice League vs. the Fatal Five, where she had been sent to the past and imprisoned in Green Lantern Sciencells, keeping her away from the Eye, and away from the rest of the Fatal Five. She was eventually broken out and wreaked havoc on the Green Lanterns, before joining with the Five and facing off against the Justice League and Legionnaire Star Boy.
Legion of Super-Heroes: Sarya is the leader of the Fatal Five, as well as its most single-handedly powerful member. Waging war against the United Planets and the Legion, she and the Five are later recruited to fight against the Sun-Eater on the behest of their mortal enemies. Three years later, she is released from prison by Imperiex's actions, alongside many other Legion enemies, only to see her Eye destroyed by Matter-Eater Lad, who was driven temporarily mad by the energies within. After this point, this version of Sarya is stripped of her power, and never seen again.
Thanks for reading!
Check out my currently ongoing Legion of Super-Heroes essay series ( Part One | Two | Three | Four ) on a proposed television series if you're interested!
#dc#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#superheroes#legion of superheroes#legion of super-heroes#super-villains#supervilains#fatal five#emerald empress#sarya#venegar#sarya of venegar#adventure comics#JLU#far from home#justice league vs. the fatal five#wiki entry
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Psychometry in Star Wars Novels
Red Harvest by Joe Schreiber
The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance by Sean Williams
Dark Disciple by Christie Golden
Legacy of the Force: Sacrifice by Karen Traviss
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The Three Musketeers: Milady ⚔️
En Garde! ⚔️
This reworking of Alexandre Dumas's novel is full of swordplay, zippy repartee, and action gallant as its heroes. Swords up for the second chapter of this French franchise based on Alexandre Dumas’s classic novel, and it’s hard to think of better casting for the legendary femme fatale Milady de Winter than Eva Green. François Civil, Vincent Cassel, Pio Marmaï and Romain Duris round out the musketeer section of the cast.
Eight months after the release of D'Artagnan, the heroes of Alexandre Dumas are back to, on the one hand, thwart a politico-religious plot against the king and, on the other hand, confront the dangerous Milady de Winter.
The favourite swash-buckling swordsmen are back for The Three Musketeers: Milady. Credit: PA
“All for one and one for all” ⚔️
Francois Civil continues to prove himself as an excellent D’Artagnan, and musketeers Athos, Aramis and Porthos bring added charm. As Athos, Vincent Cassel also has a delicate touch as his character faces inner turmoil when his past comes back to haunt him.
Vincent Cassel in the film The Three Musketeers – Milady. ©Julien Panié
Director Martin Bourboulon delivers yet again in this fantastic French language flick, Pictured: Francois Civil as D’Artagnan and Romain Duris as Aramis Credit: PA
From the Louvre to Buckingham Palace, to the gutters of Paris to the siege of La Rochelle… In a kingdom divided by religious wars and under threat of British invasion, a handful of men and women will battle and tie their fate to that of France. Constance is kidnapped before D'Artagnan's eyes. In a frantic quest to save her, the young musketeer is forced to join forces with the mysterious Milady de Winter.
François Civil and Vicky Crieps in The Three Musketeers: Milady
But as war is declared and Athos, Porthos and Aramis have already joined the front, a terrible secret from the past shatters all old alliances. As the King falls further and further under the control of Cardinal Richelieu, D'Artagnan and the Musketeers are the last bastions before chaos. But, drawn into a plot that threatens to put the country to fire and sword, fate presents them with a terrible choice: will they have to sacrifice those they love to complete?
If you enjoy historical fiction, drama, adventure, action stories, or tales of heroism and friendship, then "The Three Musketeers": Milady is worth adding to your list.
Eva Green’s performance as Milady is perfect. She’s an Actress with a huge talent.
Just a quick note on who is Eva Green. Maybe you know her:
Eva Green appeared in Ridley Scott's historical epic Kingdom of Heaven (2005), and portrayed Bond girl Vesper Lynd in the James Bond film Casino Royale (2006). In 2006, Green was awarded the BAFTA Rising Star Award. She has also appeared in the television series Camelot (2011) and in Showtime's horror drama Penny Dreadful. Her performance in the series earned her a nomination for Best Actress in a Television Series – Drama at the 73rd Golden Globe Awards.
The Three Musketeers: Milady is released on 15 December in UK and Irish cinemas.
Original Language: French: Director: Martin Bourboulon, Producer: Dimitri Rassam; Writer: Alexandre de La Patellière, Matthieu Delaporte, Alexandre Dumas. Production Co: Pathé Films, Umedia, Constantin Film, ZDF, DeAPlaneta, Chapter 2, M6 Films.
#AlexandreDumas #ThreeMusketeers:Milady #D'Artagnan #Athos #Aramis # Porthos #novel #LouisXIII #Cardinal Richelieu #French franchise #EvaGreen #FrançoisCivil #VincentCassel #PioMarmaï #RomainDuris #MartinBourboulon #Director
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STAR WARS PHASE I: THE OLD REPUBLIC
Dawn of the Jedi: Into the Void - Tim Lennon (before 25000 BBY)
Lost Tribes of the Sith - John Jackson Miller (between 5000-3000 BBY)
The Old Republic: Revan - Drew Karpyshyn (before 3500 BBY)
The Old Republic: Deceived - Paul S Kemp (before 3500 BBY)
Red Harvest - Joe Schrieber (before 3500 BBY)
The Old Republic: Fatal Alliances - Sean Williams (before 3500 BBY)
The Old Republic: Annihilation - Drew Karpyshyn (before 3500 BBY)
Knight Errant - John Jackson Miller (circa 1000 BBY)
Darth Bane: Path of Destruction - Drew Karpyshyn (circa 1000 BBY)
Darth Bane: Rule of Two - Drew Karpyshyn (circa 1000 BBY)
Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil - Drew Karpyshyn (circa 980 BBY)
The High Republic: Convergence - Zoraida Córdova (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Quest for the Hidden City - George Mann (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Path of Deceit - Tessa Gratton & Justina Ireland (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Battle of Jedha - George Mann (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Cataclysm - Lydia Kang (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Path of Vengeance- Cavan Scott (circa 382 BBY)
The High Republic: Quest for Planet X - Tessa Gratton (382 BBY)
The High Republic: Into the Dark - Claudia Gray (circa 232 BBY)
The High Republic: Light of the Jedi - Charles Soule (circa 232 BBY)
The High Republic: Test of Courage - Justine Ireland
The High Republic: The Rising Storm - Cavan Scott (circa 231 BBY)
The High Republic: Race to Crashpoint Tower - Daniel José Older (231 BBY)
The High Republic: Out of the Shaddows -Justina Ireland (circa 231 BBY)
The High Republic: Tempest Runner - Cavan Scott (circa 231BBY)
The High Republic: Mission to Disaster - Justina Ireland (229 BBY)
The High Republic: Midnight Horizon - Daniel José Older (circa 230 BBY)
The High Republic: Fallen Star - Claudia Gray (circa 230 BBY)
The High Republic: The Eye of Darkness - George Mann (circa 229 BBY)
The High Republic: Defy the Storm - Tessa Gratton & Justina Ireland (229 BBY)
The High Republic: Escape from Valo - Daniel José Older & Alyssa Wong (229 BBY)
The High Republic: Temptation of the Force - Tessa Gratton (circa 229 BBY) RELEASE DATE June 11, 2024
The High Republic: Tears of the Nameless - George Mann (circa 299 BBY) RELEASE DATE September 24, 2024
The High Republic: Beware the Nameless - Zoraida Córdova (circa 229 BBY) RELEASE DATE AUGUST 27, 2024 (JR)
The High Republic: Tempest Breaker- Cavan Scott (circa 229 BBY) RELEASE DATE DECEMBER 3 2024
Tales of Enlightenment - George Mann
Starlight Stories - Charles Soules, Cavan Scott, Justina Ireland
Old Republic Stuff SOO intent on making me learn about mandalore. and unfortunately. i am!!! boo!!!!
I like Revan + Scourge!!! cool guys
ohhh the sequels are evil btw.
LotJ is such a difficult book to read bc the Jedi who die at the end of every chapter, lmao but i Loveee thinking about Hyperspace. 6 year old me would be so surprised
FATMAN IS THE NAME OF THE SHIP
NOOOO NOT MANDALOREEE NOT MANDAALOREEE
lol the semi organic droids to protect cynxia are very cool make me sad, AND i like shigar he’s my new bestie
theron is also cool + a whole new appreciation for GRANDMASTER SATEEL SHAN
ZOMBIES
OMG not the random cult and the LEVELER and The Kevmo baby boy babiest of alll baby boys he’s so sweet and earnest and he DIED
ohh btw i like dalien in that i think he is Interesting and i am interested in him. i do not like lanoree in that she has a bad attitude but i do think that’s the point
literally zero things worked for me in out of the shadows while the first YA book had A LOT that worked. go figure.
Pretty much soured on the YA/MG Novels at this point
missing my boy Kevmo, but i think that might have been the excitement of a little jedi
Reath Silas. Sure! i can dig it.
Cohmac Vitus buddy i am COMING FOR YOU. that motherfucker handed his 18 year old padawan his lightsaber and sprinted out of the room. GIRL.
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Taking place during 1BBY, this tiny tragedy follows two Rebel pilots final moments together. Based off Samuel Kim's "Star Wars (Epic Main Theme), and it's recommended you listen to it while you read.
Tw: war zone, battle, suicide.
One by one, ships exploded around her. Squadron after squadron bursting into a ball of flames and gas in the deep of space. Red lit up Libana’s windshield as she watched TIE Fighters bombard what was left of her fleet with their cannons and guns.
That was when she saw it; the purple painted X-Wing of Esmiris Elon. Esmi. Her Esmi. The ship thankfully hadn’t been blown to pieces yet, but it was floating in a ring of debris that had begun to orbit around the nearest planet. That was when she realised she wasn’t the only one who had taken notice of the perfectly intact X-Wing. Pure adrenaline kicked in, pushing on the thrusters she headed straight for the TIE Fighter that was charging and shooting at Esmi’s ship. Green flashes joined the sea of red. Lib smashed the trigger over and over again, her aim poor as she desperately shot to save her Esmi.
The TIE shot and landed a blow.
Another.
Another.
Lib was screaming by now, eyes teared over and her vision blurry. She was shooting into the abyss and hoping that the Force would help her to make her shot and save the only woman she’d ever loved.
Another.
She could see Esmi waking up from the blow that had knocked her out, and immediately she began panicking in her cockpit. She pushed as many buttons as she could, trying to steer out of the path of the oncoming TIE, her BB-unit similarly panicking as he desperately tried to repair what he could of their ship.
Somehow, some way, the Force had granted her this last wish, green colliding with the black metal and blowing it to pieces right before it could land a fatal blow.
“You came back for me!” Esmi said in disbelief. She truly thought she would never see Lib again.
“Of course I did. You still owe me credits.” Another Rebel ship blew up nearby. “Do you still have control?”
“Yes. But my hyperdrive is gone. There’s no leaving for me… not this time. You need to leave, Lib.”
“A life without you, Esmiris Elon, is not a life I’m willing to live. If you die, I die. We do this together, okay?”
With a nod, Esmi and Lib turned to face the star destroyers and TIEs that were charging for the last two remaining enemies. They were about to charge when they heard it.
“Spider Squadron, we have arrived.”
Jumping out of hyperspace above them came Rebel ships. Hundreds of them, if not thousands. While they were still greatly outnumbered, the odds on the battlefield had drastically changed. From their position, they watched as pilots took down TIEs with ease, teaming up and pushing the Empire back. The Empire’s numbers slowly but surely began to dwindle, most taken out when a Star Destroyer had been wrecked. But two more remained.
The Rebels took on damage, of course, but nothing compared to the elation everyone felt when the final Star Destroyer and been blown up, and the remaining TIEs jumped to hyperspace to avoid certain death.
Lib, in her joy, turned to look at Esmi’s ship next to her to celebrate their victory together. But as she laid eyes upon the field once more, she saw that the wing of Esmi’s ship had been blown clean off, and the cockpit door was wide open. Esmi, though strapped to the seat, was undoubtedly no longer breathing. While the rest of the Alliance commemorated this impossible victory, Lib felt her heart breaking. As her world crumbled around her, she had one final thought before she, too, opened her cockpit door…
A life without you, Esmiris Elon, is not a life I’m willing to live.
#star wars#star wars fan fiction#star wars fiction#star wars oc#sapphic star wars#star wars sapphic story#sapphic#sapphic romance#sapphic love story#sapphic fiction#sapphic short fiction#star wars short story#sapphic tragedy#yes the cover was made using the Sims 4#I have no artistic talent#this was the best I could do#okay?
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Hello everyone,
I have long been working on a timeline of all of Star Wars media and I can finally see the light at the end. However, there is still a lot to write down.
Until I can finish up all of it I'd like to share a little part of it here. This list contains all the short stories, novels and cinematic trailers released for the Star Wars: The Old Republic or SWTOR MMO, starting with the Revan book. Enjoy!
Edit: Now with comic books! (can't believe I forgot to add them)
Revan, 3954-3950 BBY, novel, 2011
SWTOR: Return, 3681 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2011
Blood of the Empire, 3678 BBY, comic book, 2010
The Old Republic: The Third Lesson, 3667 BBY, short story, 2011
SWTOR: Hope, 3667 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2010
The Old Republic: Smuggler's Vanguard, 3660 BBY, short story, 2010
SWTOR: Deceived, 3653 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2009
Deceived, 3653 BBY, novel, 2011
Threat of Peace, 3653 BBY, comic book, 2009-2010
Red Harvest, 3645 BBY, novel, 2010
The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance, 3643 BBY, novel, 2010
The Price of Power, 3643 BBY, short story, 2015
The Sixth Lane, 3643 BBY, short story, 2015 Part 1 | Part 2
The Lost Suns, 3643 BBY, comic book, 2011
Star Wars: The Old Republic, 3643-3626 BBY, game, 2011
The Last Battle of Colonel Jace Malcolm, 3640 BBY, short story, 2013
Annihilation, 3640 BBY, novel, 2012
SWTOR: Shadow of Revan, 3638-3637 BBY, game, 2014
The Final Trial, before 3638 BBY, short story, 2015
Prelude to Depths of Manaan
Surface Details, 3637 BBY, short story, 2014
Wanted: Dead and Dismantled, 3637 BBY, short story, 2014
Prelude to Legacy of The Rakata
Remnants, 3637 BBY, short story, 2014
Prelude to Blood Hunt
Bedtime on Concordia, 3637 BBY, short story, 2014
After SoR
One Night in Dealer's Den, 3636 BBY, short story, 2015
Regrets, 3636 BBY, short story, 2015
SWTOR: Sacrifice, 3636 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2015
Brothers, 3636 BBY, short story, 2015
Vacation, 3636-3631? BBY, short story, 2015
SWTOR: Knights of The Fallen Empire, 3636-3631 BBY, game, 2015
SWTOR: Betrayed, 3630 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2016
A Mother's Hope, 3630 BBY, short story, 2016
SWTOR: Knights of The Eternal Throne, 3630 BBY, game, 2016
Prelude to Crisis on Umbara
Trading Scars, 3629 BBY, short story, 2017
Prelude to A Traitor Among the Chiss
Copero, 3629 BBY, short story, 2017
Prelude to The Dark Descent
Quite A Story to Tell, 3626 BBY, short story, 2021
Seeing Red, 3626 BBY, short story, 2021
Prelude to Legacy of The Sith
Intelligence Report: Historical Analysis of Manaan, 3626 BBY, short story, 2021
Mission Abstract: Investigate link between Darth Malgus and the planet Elom, 3626 BBY, short story, 2021
SWTOR: Disorder, 3626 BBY, cinematic trailer, 2022
SWTOR: Legacy of The Sith, 3626 BBY, game, 2022
All That's Left, 3626 BBY, short story, 2022
Bottled Fury, 3626 BBY, short story, 2022
Prelude to Showdown on Ruhnuk
Snare, 3626 BBY, short story, 2022
Feel free to tell me if you noticed something I missed!
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@jennadknowsbest-blog
I must say he was a challenge, somehow making arts with lady characters is much easier :)
This is Mirta’s brother Alexi:
Name: Alexi Paz Djarin-Kryze
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Year of Birth: 12 ABY
Place of Birth: Mandalore
Parents: Din Djarin and Bo-Katan Kryze
Siblings: Grogu(adopted), Mirta, and Isabeth
House: Kryze
Clan: Mudhorn
Titles: Prince of Mandalore, Duke of Concordia
Appearance:
•5’11
•Light olive skin (Caucasian X Latino)
•Athletic
•Short face
•Shaven
•Straight, short, brown hair.
•Green eyes
•Visible freckles on both sides of his face.
Notable Skills:
•Combat: Like the rest of his family, Alexi is well-rounded in various combat styles. He’s been well trained in the use of Westar blasters and quarterstaffs.
•Athleticism: Due to constant training under his father, Din Djarin, Alexi is very athletic like the rest of his family clan.
•Intelligence: Above-average intelligence, excelled well at both the newly reestablished Royal Academy as a youth and in training with his clan.
•Weapons Expert: Alexi is extremely talented in the field of weaponry. He can build various types of weapons for different variations of combat. They include blasters, pistols, explosives, and sabers.
•Piloting Expert: Due to constant training under his mother, Bo-Katan Kryze, Alexi is an expert pilot skilled in the helming of both The Gauntlet and the N1 Starfighter.
•Diplomacy Skills: Alexi is a strong advocate for Mandalore’s ability to maintain its independence but form alliances with any New Republic-based planets that are open to provide support through trade, education, and peace-keeping treaties.
•Force Sensitive: Yes, like his brother, Grogu. Has the ability to heal most fatal wounds and illnesses and can communicate with the dead through the force.
Additional Information:
•Youngest of triplets to sisters Mirta and Isabeth.
•Has trained with Cal Kestis to learn how to use, control and appreciate his force sensitive abilities. Yet, he has no intentions of ever joining any type of Jedi Order.
•Can wield the Dark Saber like his sister but chooses not to possess it.
•Has created dozens of weapons for the Resistance when Mandalore joined forces with them on their mission to stop the First Order.
•Has forged most of his family clan’s weapons.
•Has a tight-knit relationship with his family clan.
Strengths:
•He’s a great diplomat who can help Mandalore forge alliances with leaders from different planets.
•He’s open minded when it comes to other cultures across the Galaxy.
•Can always seek guidance from the dead, via, the force, to help him solve problems that he might struggle with.
•Just like his brother, Alexi’s force-healing abilities can always come in handy when someone is sick or injured anytime and anywhere.
•He’s extremely compassionate like his father.
•He’s incredible when it comes to his knowledge and skills with weaponry.
•His piloting skills have proven to be a great asset in both combative and diplomatic situations.
Weaknesses:
•Extremely emotional
•Quick tempered
•While he’s a great pilot, he does lack skills in engineering ships.
•He’s so compassionate that sometimes, people take too much advantage of him for it.
•Absent minded at times partially because he’s often buried in his work with weaponry.
•Has a reputation for instigating public fights with senators who doubt Mandalore’s ability to be an independent sovereign.
Armor:
•Helmet: Similar to his father’s in terms of its design, it features a decal that almost resembles his mother’s headband. On top of it is the “Kryze” signature that can be seen at its center.
•Chest and Neck Pieces: Alexi has an identical chest piece that his father has but features an armored neckpiece that once belonged to his maternal grandfather, Duke Adonai Kryze. The decal on the chest piece is his mother’s Nite Owl signet.
•Groin: None
•Pauldrons: Similar to his father’s but features two different signets. The left features his mother’s Mythosaur signet and the right, his father’s Mudhorn signet.
•Guantlets: Similar to Axe Woves’ but with the ability to fire blasts of energy at targeted figures to stun them and deactivate droids. They also enable him to use grabbel lines when a situation calls for it.
•Hand Armor: Similar to Tristan Wren’s.
•Thigh/Hip Plates: Forged by his sister, Mirta, his hip plates are similar to that of a fallen Wren Mandalorian warrior from the Imperial Era.
Knee Armor: Forged by his sister, Alexi’s knee armor set almost resembles his father’s but with a few modifications that would enable him to shot a flamethrower out of them in midair.
•Shin Guards: None, but he does have calf gaiters where his shin guards used to be before he lost them in an accident.
•Foot Armor: Similar to his mother’s old foot armor from the end of the Republic Era.
•Jet pack: Similar to his mother’s.
Armor Color Scheme:
•African Gray
•Beskar Silver
•Gray Blue
Soft Parts:
•Similar to his father’s.
Belt:
Similar to Axe Woves’.
Weapons in Possession:
•1 Westar Blaster
•His own lightsaber he forged with his brother.
•A few explosions he created himself.
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Night had long since fallen: stars glowed overhead, blanketing the misty, far-flung village in an almost eerie glow as the group tended to their own after a full day of fighting. Alliance soldiers led by Greymane had taken the capitol by force and storm in glorious and storied battle, while a much smaller-scale war of inches was fought on the fringes of Gilneas by civilian groups and paramilitary forces alike. By the time they’d gained ground and settled in for the night, there was little left to many of the sea-sprayed coastal hamlets.
As they tended the wounded and mourned the dead, a grim silence had fallen over the hundreds who were encamped in the nameless town’s square; a silence much needed after the day’s struggle and strife. The only sounds came from the medical tents, where the last of the wounded were being brought in from the surrounding countryside.
Gwen stood in a tent next to a cot, her hands stained reddish-brown as she peeled back layers of bloody clothing covering a young man’s chest. He can’t even be twenty, she thought as her fingers picked at charred and bloody cloth. Her look darkened almost imperceptibly in the lantern light as she pulled the last bit of cloth back to reveal a gaping chest wound, blackened around the edges. The sharp smell of copper and burnt flesh met her nostrils as she shifted her gaze to the lad’s face.
“Yer gonna be fine, love,” she said gently, even as the light began to dim in the boy’s eyes. His charred hand grasped at her skirt, blackened fingertips clawing desperately at cloth as he reached out to touch someone else one last time. Gwen scooped up his hand in one of hers as the other rummaged in her pocket.
“Yeh s-sure?” he rasped as he struggled for breath. She nodded as her fingers closed around what she’d been looking for: a tiny syrette— one of dozens she’d used that day alone.
“Sure as the day’s long— what’s yer name?” Gwen asked as she slid the needle smoothly into his upper arm.
“H— Henry, m-ma’am…” He struggled to focus on her as the drugs took quick effect. “...feels… feels like’m gonna… be fine…” he mumbled as his eyelids fluttered shut. Gwen dropped the syrette to the floor and placed a palm on the side of his face.
“Yer gonna be fine, love,” she repeated as she leaned in and touched her dirt-smeared forehead to his. Her eyes closed as his last, shuddering breath left his body. “Ancestors guide him,” she intoned, barely above a whisper, “an’ bring him peace in his next life.” As Henry’s grip slackened in hers, Gwen straightened herself up and made a moment of placing his hands crossed over his chest, just above the fatal wound that had taken his life— the one she’d been too late to treat. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention: she turned to see a woman approaching with a ragged blanket.
“S’all I got, but he shouldn’t have t’ lie around uncovered,” she said to Gwen as she went about draping the blanket over Henry’s body. Gwen gave her a single, stiff nod.
“Yeh know ‘im?” she asked quietly.
“I know boys like ‘im,” the woman replied grimly. “Lost as much as we gained today, eh?”
Gwen hummed her agreement. “Aye, we did,” she replied as she turned away. Her eyes— bright with unspilled tears— scanned the tent for the next person, the next victim, as her fingers pulled desperately at the hem of her shirt. She flinched and turned around as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“He were the last one brought in,” the woman said gently as Gwen fruitlessly attempted to blink away the tears.
“There ain’t— there ain’t no more?” she asked; the woman shook her head. Gwen let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding and fairly collapsed into the woman’s arms as the dam burst and the tears fell thick and fast. “Thank the gods,” she mumbled as the woman guided her to a chair. The woman removed her shawl and placed it across Gwen’s shaking shoulders, and stood in silent vigil next to her as the rest of the scant few medics in their group finished tending to the last of the wounded.
In the distance, the hulking shadow of Gilneas city loomed, its slate rooftops silhouetted by flames from the battle undoubtedly still raging in the city proper. It would be morning— grey and drizzling rain— by the time the Gilnean flag was raised once more in the cathedral square; by then a dozen more fighters would be gone from Gwen’s cadre in the smouldering, windswept remnants of the forgotten seaside town.
In the upcoming days, some would wonder aloud— and in the throes of grief— if what they were fighting for was worth it; others would insist that retaking their homeland was a necessity for the pride and glory of Gilneas. As Gwen sat in the chair with her face buried in her hands, something her father had said to her on the eve of the family’s last fated trip to Duskhaven struck her memory: This is just a place, my love. Gilneas is not this land— Gilneas is and has always been its people.
Scant comfort were the words in the wake of the intervening years, but she would have been lying if she’d said she hadn’t wondered if Gilneans couldn’t have both; not just their people, but also the reclamation of their ancestral homeland. Part of her mind was certain that she would finally be at peace with the magnitude of her own personal loss if there could be meaning behind it; certain she would at least truly begin to heal. Her own desperate hope for any semblance of a life after grief was so all-consuming that she had leapt before she’d stopped to look: she’d vanished in the night— again— fairly aching to find purpose in her misery.
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The Fox
Sherwood Smith
Publisher: DAW Books (Penguin Random House)
Genre: epic fantasy, military fantasy
Year: 2007
So I guess I am starting off 2024 with a bang, because I stayed up into the wee hours of the night to finish The Fox, sequel to my first read of the year Inda (review here). Because Sherwood Smith has now ignited a ravenous hunger in me to see where this story goes and I expect I'll have finished the quartet before the end of the week. When people as me "have you seen x movie?" and I answer "no" this is why. I'm too busy speed-running an entire fantasy epic.
Somehow, I think this book is even better than it's first installment. Inda, on his way to being a grown man, works his way up through the world of privateers and pirates, forging friends and alliances wherever he goes. He really learns how to be a man, a good one at that. The way this book kept me in suspense, when like half the characters died at 40% I was shocked I was bamboozled I could not fathom where the story would go next, but it went to new places still. And the teasing and close calls! Inda gets so close multiple times to his old life. And despite Inda cultivating a larger-than-life aura, he is still at his heart a young man. The tryst in Ymar was the pinnacle of this.
Inda: "I will go undercover to learn things"
Inda: gets captured on the first day
Inda: gets drugged an immediately gives up the ghost
Inda: does not go undercover, does not learn things
Thank god Tau and Jeje are still alive because if they were also dead, I was going to riot. That cliffhanger on the last book where I thought they'd all died nearly wrecked me, first Dogpiss and now this? But they both made it alive. They are such an interesting duo, Taumad the pretty man who uses sex and seduction to get what he wants, and Jeje, the ugly, loyal, stoic female fighter. They make such an interesting contrast as people, and as narrative foils that inhibit the opposite gender trope character-wise. It's usually the femme fatal with the gruff soldier, but in this it's Tau with his complex feelings about intimacy and sex as someone who uses those skills as a job (tbh I feel like the Astarion girlies would go feral over Tau).
My only hangup is Signi. She appears as a much-coveted mage that Inda will need to brave the war across the seas. His crew captures her, and fresh off the heels of his own torture, he refuses to torture her. In 4 chapters after meeting Signi, Inda declares he's in love. Compared to all the deep characterizations and relationships, romantic and otherwise throughout the novel, Signi's appearance clangs discordant with the meat of the novel. It's almost like Smith was so eager to explore what their relationship will mean that she blasts through the most important bits, the getting-to-know-you bits, and all the interesting ways their relationship could challenge them in its beginning.
I feel like Inda has been through so much although he's only twenty by the end of the book and I just... still a child. That's a baby. I can't tell if I'm dreading watching him become a man or excited. Maybe a little bit of both. And I absolutely cannot wait for the reunions that are promised at the cliffhanger.
storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston
★★★★★ HOMESICK, SEAFARING STARS
#the fox#sherwood smith#astarion#book review#coming of age#inda series#queer books#a good read#all time faves#asexual rep#disability rep#epic fantasy#military fantasy#fantasy#profound#queer#women writers#five stars#2007#daw books#penguin random house#featured
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BALANCE OTOÑO 2022
- - - LIBROS - - -
“Aguacates en el bunquer”, M. Markusen.
"Altar”, Catherine Lacey.
“Cuento de hadas”, Stephen King.
“Desde el otro lado”, Bernardo Atxaga.
“El bazar de la cebra con lunares”, Raphaëlle Giordano.
“En la casa”, Philip Le Roy.
“Ese día cayó en domingo”, Sergio Ramírez.
“Horizonte de estrellas”, Víctor Conde - Guillem Sánchez.
“Huesos olvidados”, Preston & Child.
“La cosecha pálida”, Josan Mosteiro.
“La llama de Focea”, Lorenzo Silva.
“Nieve en Marte”, Pablo Tévar.
“Punto ciego”, Paula Hawkins.
“Read zombie”, Diego G. Andreu.
“Sobre hormigas y dinosaurios”, Cixin Liu.
“Todo arde”, Juan Gómez-Jurado.
“Tren bala”, Kotaro Isaka.
- - - SERIES - - -
“1899”
"Apagón"
“El Club de Medianoche”
“El Gabinete de curiosidades”
“Heridas abiertas - Sharp objets”
“Historias para no dormir” T2
"Infiniti"
"La Brea"
“La Casa del Dragón”
"La novia gitana"
“Los anillos del poder"
“Manifest" T1 - T2
“Miércoles"
“She-Hulk"
“Star Wars - Andor" T3
“Star Wars - Crónicas Jedi"
“The Devils Hour"
“The Peripheral"
- - - PELÍCULAS - - -
“Attack the Block”
"Cerdita"
“Déjame entrar”
“El espíritu de Bridge Hollow”
“El teléfono del señor Harrigan ”
“Enola Holmes 2”
"Freaks"
"Jaula"
“Logan”
"Los renglones torcidos de Dios"
“Lou"
"Mad Heidi"
"Mañana es hoy"
“Men”
“Un Mundo Extraño”
"Padre no hay más que uno 3"
"Pasajero oculto"
"The Innocents"
"Troll"
"Valerian"
"Vesper"
"Wind River"
"Zona mortal"
- - - - - - - - - - MÚSICA - - - - - - - - - -
Octubre 2022
ANTI-CLONE - "Human" [EP] (2022)
BJÖRK - "Fossora" (2022)
PARKWAY DRIVE - "Darker Still" (2022)
NEOMAK - "Neomak" (2022)
GOLD, FRANKINCENSE & MYRRH - "Framing My Perception" [EP] (2022)
BUSH - "The Art Of Survival" (2022)
NEROARGENTO - "Land Of Silence" (2022)
QUEENSRYCHE - "Digital Noise Alliance" (2022)
STRATOVARIUS - "Survive" (2022)
RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS - "Return Of The Dream Canteen" (2022)
ORIANTHI - "Rock Candy" (2022)
ELLEFSON-SOTO - "Vacation In The Underworld" (2022)
RED ELM - "Arena" (2022)
THE ELECTRIC ALLEY - "Apache" (2022)
CELLDWELLER - "Satellites" (2022)
LACUNA COIL - "Comalies XX" (2022)
Noviembre 2022
ALTER BRIDGE - "Pawns And Kings" (2022)
COLLATERAL- "Re-Wired" (2022)
WARCRY - "Daimon" (2022)
HÄMATOM - "Lang lebe der Hass" (2022)
CHAOSEUM - "The Third Eye" (2022)
MICE - "Lautada" (2022)
THE PRETTY RECKLESS - "Other Worlds" (2022)
MEDINA AZAHARA - "La Cápsula del Tiempo" (2022)
FRONTSTREET - "Moving Balance" [EP] (2022)
SOEN - "Atlantis" (2022)
RAMMSTEIN - "Adieu" (2022) -videoclip-
THE SMASHING PUMPKINS - "Atum, Act I" (2022)
LEATHERWOLF - "Kill The Hunted" (2022)
Diciembre 2022
NICKELBACK - "Get rollin' " (2022)
LEE AARON - "Elevate" (2022)
SAINT ASONIA - "Extrovert" (2022)
JEVO - "Fatality" (2022)
SU TA GAR - "Alarma" (2022)
MELIORA - "Aethereus" (2022)
KRILLOAN - "Emperor rising" (2022)
LEANDER KILLS - " Vérkeringö " (2022)
ASGARTH - "Zeldatik" (2022)
CIRCE - "Odisea" (2022)
††† (CROSSES) - "Permanent Radiant" (2022)
CITIZEN SOLDIER - "Scarecrow" (2022)
SOZIEDAD ALKOHOLIKA - "Mendizorrotza" (2022)
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So I got around to reading one of the SWTOR books I got for Christmas and came across this line:
And you know what he wasn’t wrong!
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Swtor Confession
I changed my name to "ulavii" because of Ula Vii from Fatal Alliance by Sean Williams and sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who read the book cause I've never seen the characters talked about in the swtor fandom ;;
#swtor#star wars the old republic#fatal alliance#sean williams#Ula Vii#Dao Stryver#Darth Chratis#Eldon Ax#Jet Nebula#Larin Moxla#Shigar Konshi#writing all of their names cause they deserve some love#that book is good I promise#I love you Ula#I might be the first one to write you in a fanfiction I won't let you down
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