#lyra having that much faith in him just to die in the end...

[icanbeyourgenie]

“ But I had a nightmare... ” - a sad Lyra to Aeron

❝Still. You shouldn't be here, Lyra.❞

His little sister looked at him with her big sad eyes and he knew he would give up. He always did give up when she came in his bed in the middle of the night because she felt safer sleeping in his arms. But he still had to at least pretend to be stern about it. Lyra was way too soft to live in this realm. If someone found about her need of reassurance she would be punished and rejected. He did remember his own fear of spiders when he was little, and how his mother beat that fear out of him by locking him in room full of spiders for weeks. It did help him manage his fear, but he knew that Lyra would not handle this kind of exposure.

As a good fae, he shouldn't care. But Lyra seemed to escape his rules. So when her eyes started to water, he sighed and opened his arms. She jumped in and they laid down, looking at the celling. ❝Tomorrow I'm putting a double lock on my door.❞ He said for good measure. It was probably the 10th time he used this threat now.

❝What am I supposed to do when I have nightmares?❞

❝Go back to sleep.❞

❝That's easy for you to say. You can control dreams so you never have nightmares!❞ Lyra pouted and Aeron chuckled.

❝Other people's dream only. But anyway, what was your nightmare even about?❞

The little fae waited a bit before answering. ❝...About getting casted away.❞

Aeron stayed silent. It was a rather realistic nightmare, it could happen. It will probably happen. Aeron saw people way thougher than Lyra get cast away by his mother and uncle. He usually barely interracted with his potential siblings or cousins, not until they were a permanent member of the family. But Lyra was really persistent.

❝You have years before it happens.❞ He finally said.

❝Years won't change anything. I'm too weak.❞

❝Xanthe too. He's still there, isn't he?❞

❝Xanthe can create weapons that would decimate cities.❞

❝Maybe you could too.❞

❝I don't want to do that. I don't want to hurt people.❞

Aeron sighed. ❝Then yes. You'll be cast away.❞

He ignored his uneasy feeling. It was probably just something he ate. Gentle and soft faes were a myth, because in the real fairy world, they didn't last long. A weak royal household would be an abomination. Right?

❝Not if you're king...❞ Lyra spoke soflty, but Aeron groaned as he put a pillow on his head.

❝Not that again. We already talked about it, go to sleep before I knock you out.❞ But Lyra was already propped on her elbows, looking at him with a spark in her eyes.

❝You could, though!❞ She was maybe weak but she sure could bother someone to death. Perhaps she should bring that up to Morgana. ❝It doesn't have to be the elder. Syrus was the oldest and yet mother is the High Queen! Everybody knows she favors you, and you're the one who has fairy dust. You, not Rhys. Not any of us. You could be high king someday.❞

It was true enough that he was the favorite, and that in the matter of succession nothing was decided yet. Morgana let Rhysand believe he was the heir, but she was too manipulative to be trusted. As long as no crown prince was elected, nothing was set in stone.

❝And then what? Change the rules, make everyone happy and nice with each other?❞ Aeron almost laughed. This was a child's dream. A human child's, not a fae's. ❝This is not our customs, Lyra. It's nothing more than a fairytale.❞ He could see the irony in that.

❝Don't you want more, though? I know you're better than that. Deep down.❞

Aeron didn't think he was - he was thriving just well amist all the cruelty and chaos - but he knew where Lyra got this idea. So he looked at her, putting one hand in the back of her head to make sure she listened to him.

❝You forget two things. First of all, I have absolutely no intention of being king. This is the most boring job in the world.❞

❝You'd rather keep being a pirate?❞

❝Yes, actually. I'd barely be at court if it wasn't for Mother. Which brings me to the second point: this debate is pointless because Morgana Le Fey will never abdicate the throne. She has countless years in front of her, no one can touch her as long as she has the Spectre. She's just using the heir title as bait to manipulate us and Rhys, Aldris and Euphemia are too blind or stupid to realize they're being played and moved around her board as she sees fit. I don't want the throne, but even if I did, I'd never have it.❞

❝But-❞

❝No more buts. You go to sleep now. And tomorrow, you'll get back on the training field.❞

The girl wanted to protest, but Aeron discretly moved his hands to make the dust settle directly on her face. She was yawning already, and her body fell on the mattress. She asked, before falling asleep: ❝If I get cast away, could I come on your ship?❞

❝I don't think you'd like it very much there either.❞ He answered, but she was snoring already.

Aeron got up and carried her body accross the castle, all the way to her room. She wouldn't wake up, this time.

The next day, he installed the double lock. She'd resent him for it, probably wouldn't even talk to him for a bit, but eventually it was for her own good. Lyra had to learn how to toughen up. The thing was, Aeron was quite sure she didn't have it in her...

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 86

Cw: mentions of violence, death , the usual

Taglist: @stargaryenx @mercedesdecorazon @aemondx @darylandbethfanforever9

Gif by @ashley-jones

“The Citadel names the clash that followed the Battle of the Kingsroad. The men who fought it named it the Muddy Mess. By any name, the last battle of the Dance of the Dragons would prove to be a one-sided affair.”

---The Dying of the Dragons: The Short, Sad Reign of Aegon II

While Vermithor would never replace Vhagar in his heart, Aemond had to admit the Bronze Fury flew like a dream.

Despite the rain, both dragon and rider managed to cut through Baratheon's ranks like butter.

Well, what was left of it anyway.

The Archers led by Black Aly decimated the horses and killed half the riders, those who managed to arrive near the shield wall were killed by Bloody Ben’s men.

Those who managed to escape the ensuing rout were met by a dragon hungry for violence.

“Mercy, King Aemond!” Baratheon’s remaining men cry when he dismounts after.

Baratheon is not dead yet, despite his injuries the bastard is alive enough to be brought forth to Aemond and Aemma who had come like a silver goddess on her silver mount to put the fear of the gods in those who surrender.

They fall to their knees for them, more for her because they remember Aemma as the merciful princess who shares Baratheon’s blood.

“Yield, my lord.” She asks gesturing for the Maesters to treat the injured.

The man refused to be treated, but the Maesters do so anyways going as far as removing his dented armor.

But he won’t yield, not when he knows he’s too far deep to get away with it. Had he not sided with Aegon to give Cass a crown, perhaps he could simply yield with minor repercussions.

“I’d sooner dance in hell than wear your chains.” The man said with a curse before taking his own dagger and plunging it into his stomach.

Seven days later, his second son, Olyvar Baratheon, is born.

Had the man had more sense, he would have lived to meet him.

A shame so many had to die for this.

“They say he claimed Vermithor. They call him Jaehaerys Reborn.”

Every word and raven that comes after the Battle of the Kingsroad makes Corlys laugh like a madman.

Aegon would go against his own brother, the person he had believed would put him over his own wife.

By New Year’s Day, the rightful queen will sit on the Iron Throne and all this will end.

Word had come saying the last of his allies had changed their allegiance.

Lady Lannister would give her fealty in exchange for calling off Dalton Greyjoy, Lady Tyrell had her men take the remaining Hightowers into custody, Ser Tyland Lannister, Ser Marston Waters and Ser Julian Wormwood had all been captured by loyalists before they even left the bay.

Corlys did not need to bend the knee.

“Rhaenys, my love, just let me live long enough to see Laenor’s girl take what was meant to be yours.” Corlys prays to the only one being he ever had absolute faith in, his late wife.

It would not be long now, Corlys can feel the coldness of the Stranger in his bones. Either he will lose his head or whatever illness has taken root inside him will have him be burned with his ship.

He only asks that his remaining grandchildren get to be at peace when they have him join their parents and grandmother in the afterlife.

It is not much, but the Gods have never been generous anyways.

Aemma knows that by this time tomorrow, it will be finally over.

It had stopped raining by the time they reached Hayford.

They are given the Lord’s rooms because Hayford’s only remaining family are a maiden aunt, a babe sharing a nursery with his three-year-old sister, Lyra, the heiress of Hayford.

“Tomorrow, I will fuck you so hard you will limp on your way to the throne.” Aemond gives a hoarse laugh. “Gods, I miss our bed.”

“I would rather sleep on the floor than sleep in Aegon’s bed.” Aemma said and added, “Remind me to have his shit burned when we get there.”

It’s over tomorrow with the dawn they fly into the city and finish it.

Tomorrow they will arrest Aegon or kill him.

Aemma doesn’t know why that is enough to have her roll out of the bed and spill this evening’s supper into the chamber pot.

“Another dream, love?” Aemond asks, brow creased with worry as he helped her back to bed.

“I think I may be with child again.” she answered shaking her head. “I wager it’s a girl.”

And sure enough, the Maester can confirm her pregnancy with a sample of her urine and some wine.

Man fancied himself a pisse prophet, claims to know how to read piss and congratulated them on another son.

Seven moons later the good maester will apologize for his mistake when Princess Aenya, or Aennie for short, is born.

Aenya who will bring Dorne into the Realms with the only blood being that of her maidenhead by marrying Prince Morgan Nymeros Martell, son of Aliandra Nymeros Martell.

But that is still too long in the future and these dreams Aemma has are quickly forgotten the next morning.

“Do you think he will surrender?” she asks Aemond who tightened the chains on her saddle with enough wiggle room for her to jump should she have to.

“There is only one way to find out.” His hands shakes and had he not been wearing gauntlets, she would have taken them in hers and kissed them in assurance.

When they fly into Kingslanding, there are no cheers like before.

There are frightened screams drowning out those who cheer for them.

They cry for mercy thinking she will burn them to the ground.

But they did not attack them, so that was a good omen.

They land in the courtyard, where Jaehaerys and Alysanne once did with these same dragons.

Larys Strong comes to them, bows as best as he can and reveals a dead Aegon whose face had turned purple from poison.

“And so, it ends.” Aemond whispers, trying not to look at his brother’s corpse with pity.

He has her grandfather who is not too bad from his stint in the black cells with a circlet once worn by Queen Rhaenys, then her good daughter, Queen Alyssa, and would have been worn by her daughter, Jocelyn Baratheon, when Prince Aemon ascended the Iron Throne.

A Valyrian steel circlet with seven rubies that matched Aegon the Conqueror’s Crown and had been returned by Princess Deria of Dorne on the orders of her father.

A simpler thing than that of Alysanne and Aemma Arryn and Alicent Hightower.

And a different legacy as well.

“The King is dead, Long Live the Queen.”

With those words, the Dance of the Dragons ends.

----

Next up: the epilogue

[florbelles]

hit me with a bit of shaggy suffers

#shaggy-suffers

description. a compilation of shaggy’s greatest suffering moments. 100,000k+. not a slow-burn.

in actuality this is just where put alternate povs for certain scenes so i can rework them for whatever prompt i need or whatever perspective i decide to go with, i collect the Shaggy Observational Narrative here.

excerpt. in which shaggy goes to invite lyra up to the ranch on her second day in hope county, unwittingly sealing his inevitable doom (the true #shaggy-suffering origin story, if you will).

"Invited, am I?"

She's leaning in the doorway, hip cocked, a cigarette smoldering between her fingertips, the curl of her mouth telling him she knows this isn't an invitation at all, not really, and for a moment he thinks she's going to ask him what would happen were she to refuse, and he really hopes she won't, because the truth is, he doesn't fucking know.

So much. There's so much he doesn't know.

He doesn't know yet that he'll die for her, her eyes wild and blood dripping from her side, the shot that rings out and her voice in his ears screaming Not me, Philip, not me —

Doesn't know the number of times he'll stitch her up, before that, grinning as she tells him, You see I've opened it again, John will be cross, I'm afraid —

Doesn't know he'll wear her name on his left knuckles, that he'll call her the Judge, that he'll call her sister, family, boss — herald, sometimes, though it won't be true, not really.

Shaggy, she'll call him, and he'll be called that until he dies. Doesn't know that, yet, either.

Here's what he does know.

He knows she pissed off John, yesterday, could see it in his white knuckles and the set of his jaw; knows he saw her, yesterday, heels dangling from her fingertips, swaying slightly on her feet, eyes darting wildly, knows the way Faith's gaze clicked from her retreating figure to Joseph to John, the unspoken I should have handled it. Knows she was probably right.

Knows how he ended up in this mess, knows he wouldn't be here if he'd kept his damn mouth shut, if he hadn't blurted out "Brother John, that woman, recognized her, saw her round Fall's End, she was askin' questions —"

Knows John was a man possessed the last twenty-four hours, office strewn with papers, phone permanently pressed to his ear.

Knows he looked down at the file on John's desk.

And that's how he knows she's a serial killer.

Twenty men, those are the ones he knows about.

"Forty," she'll say hours later, pause and amend, "Forty-one."

Impossible, he'll think.

Impossible, but not impossible, not if she is what they say, what Joseph says.

And so he goes to collect her at sunset, John's voice in his ear, telling him to be persuasive, and he's wondering how persuasive that shotgun in the back of the truck will be and why she only killed men and if she's thinking about killing him and delivering John his head as a message, but she merely stubs out her cigarette on the doorframe and says, "Very well. Lead me to your master."

It's the first time she links her arm through his familiarly, first time he smells her perfume, first time he watches her hitch up her skirts and climb into the passenger side of the truck.

The radio turns on and she mutters something that might have been "oh my fucking god."

[imagi77]

The King and the Knight ~ Drabble

Wrote this with a friend, @claude-frollo-archives​~ I thought I’d share. :’) Nothing official or anything, but it sure made me happy~

His nightly ride had come to a strange end when he soon found someone he knew, oddly placed at the center of a glen. She had greeted him like an old friend, and graced him with an enchanted waltz that even his own discovered wild spirit could not resist. It brought tender memories of this first part of the decade of raising a little girl, when he truly did not have any sort of obligation to take on the work of another. And to continue it to the very end… was just enough proof of the heart to someone who waited deep in the pines for these two wayward voyagers.

The towering pines became from dark and looming to somehow calm and peaceful to the point that it began to feel … uncanny to him. It felt so different that he had to stop. The stallion stalled in his tracks, with his ears back, upon a sudden… The female creature who was accompanying him paused and looked back to him.

Her eyes lit up with realization when this brilliant stallion displayed, shockingly… a lack of confidence? It almost made her eyes water to see this wise one hesitate so suddenly before her eyes. This was a wizard who has scorned in the face of evil itself and had been on a transforming journey for more than a decade — This was unreal. What was fastened here? What was trapping him?

In this form, he had to abandon it, for it was a treasured secret of his and has been so for years — If this was lie of some kind or some cruel trick, he had to come as his true form, the way he was. There was this… tranquility overcoming him, overcoming his logic and if he let that go, ever… it would leave him too vulnerable.

The stallion’s form wilted away before the Dryad and there stood a very on edge wizard, whose cloaks were just as slick as the beast’s coat as before. At her, his eyes looked shocked… hurt even at the mere possibility.

“What are you doing?” he asked her suddenly, a new tone taking over his often strong voice. It sounded fragile.

“I have done nothing,”

“Nothing. Have you charmed a wild animal’s naivete in order to bring me to this place? The very same way that you cursed it?”

“Absolutely not, dear Prince…” she answered, patiently. “You are not who you were almost 20 years ago. Far, so far from that. That curse relies on you now… Not I… but I do really believe that is the least of our worries now.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Only come, there is nothing to fear here…”

“Even you should know that there is always fear — Do not be so with me. I am aware of the dangers of feeling this close to safety can only be a diversion of some kind. If I know the effects of the Dark Arts well enough, this is a deathtrap waiting to happen…”

Her ambers softened sadly. “Things are not as they were, Orpheus… You have loved and have become loved and in doing so, you have something far beyond what you have once dreamed of as a boy. You are correct that fear would always survive, but love blooms brighter during such times, wouldn’t you agree? You have looked after so many and lastly that young inventor who proved to be more than what he seemed to be, after your Lily’s found petal no less…”

The anger fell from his eyes before he trailed them to the ground away from hers. He drew in a deep sigh, yet he still held his wand… ready for anything.

“Perhaps it was the pathetic hope of keeping who I held dear away from the horrors I have seen. If I was that close to losing myself to the enemy that young, it would prove the same for anyone… Or… I was always guilty of my sins…?” he brooded. “A shallow, weak minded fool who only wanted one day in the sun, shrouded in darkness, every day. Lyra… oh little rosie … when she took that hit and held it inside, killing that part of him with it, I felt a part of myself just shatter into ashes… Her eyes were cold ice for so long after those lessons… I thought I would never see her again.”

Soon enough, he looked ahead to the glen she was aiming to lead him to with a sign of dread yet there was a shred of once lost innocence in his eyes.

“I have forgotten this feeling. There was never a time when I ever felt this way, except for a few…”

“Like whom?”

“My mother… Then there was Lily… and then Lyra, two of which I have failed outright. I feel no danger here and so I cannot step further, for I know I will be betrayed and everything I have worked for would be undone —“

“It will not be that way — Prince, that is a promise. This is someone who knows and they will help everyone we hold dear. I swear it! Just come with me, this once. Let me show you.”

Severus couldn’t bear to look her in the eye for one minute. Casting his gaze to the ground and he did not go for her reaching hand - Not at all.

“Whether this is a lie … or not. I shall see and determine for myself.” he warned, keeping his distance. “I am warning you — I have no room in my heart for any more treachery… Of what’s left of it…”

At that she nodded, respectfully. The agony he had to endure to get to this point in time was precious and so she understood as to why he was so cautious about it.

He swept passed the Dryad soon catching onto the distant sunlight that seemed to be trapped within this one part of the forest and oddly, it did not illuminate much else. The Wizard instantly felt a change in the air that almost took the breath right out of him. A fascinating, yet yearning peace warmed up in his chest as he stepped into the sunlight, very cautiously. There was a body upon one of the ledges between two grand pines… A massive golden body with a mane a brilliant as gold as the wind blew through it, it glistened like diamonds. Prince stopped not knowing how to process this at first…. This felt like a dream… As the Dryad joined his side, the great Head then turned to face them. The eyes were more human than ones he had ever seen, belonging to such a massive beast — Pure sunlight gold, full of mirth and a great knowledge that brought forth a score of sorrow. That face resembled that of a crown, for a King so great.

Right then… Prince felt the overpowering desire to stay humbled. All the pride and stubborness he had just vanished entirely… He felt small, worthless whilst in the presence of… whoever this was. It was not only not human, but far beyond that. Far beyond any magic. Had he just died just now… Was time even real?

Right then, the golden Beast rose from their perch on a pair of strong front arms, with a tail gracing behind them.

“I understand that you have much to ask me.” the Beast had spoken in a deep, profound voice, almost purring and rumbled like distant thunder. “Do not fear me, brave Knight.”

For a moment, it seemed that he could not even speak. Prince had a sense that this was a presence to be reckoned with.

“I find that… problematic, with all due respect.” he soon managed a response.

“With a drawn wand that I see, I do understand why. I vow to you that no harm shall come.”

“You know me enough to know my alias…. Who are you?”

“I am ASLAN. The Great Lion. I have come from a world that is not of your own, friend. I have come seeking the courageous, the trustworthy and the wise.”

At the sound of that mighty voice, it had seemed to have the Wizard in a state of peace, whether it was welcomed or not. The Lion knew it was something the weary man needed in his life, it was so lacking that the feeling was purely foreign to him. At that, Aslan held the most compassionate gleam in his golden eyes as he gently climbed his way down from the ledge, with so much power that he even shook the ground beneath Prince’s feet.

“This world has worn you down. I can see it, I can feel it… You must know now that I am no enemy. I have seen your beginning and your present. The rocky road you have traveled on as shook you to the point that you no longer believe in your own truth, yet you believe in others whom you hold dear. You have regrets and sorrows that can never be forgotten… You try to forget the past yet your soul still lives in it. It lives in it and you fear of the terrors of the past returning again. I am not here to humor you of this, but to encourage you to let free of that bind. It never defined you. If you let it free, your heart will heal.”

Prince’s eyes flashed as if something had just awoke within him and his brow furrowed once again, soon taking a step back.

“No one will ever have power over you again, Orpheus Prince… or are you still Severus Snape? The boy who supported and honored his mother to the very end of her days. He who tried to shield his childhood friend from the evils of another… He who had no control over such evils ever since the beginning?”

“DON’T. Severus is DEAD.” Prince soon spoke, his voice clearly on the verge of absolute agony. “… He had been killed along with his filthy excuse for a father, whom I was almost molded into…”

“You were never your father, Prince. He had chosen his fate long before you returned for Eileen. He had been given chance and chance again, and he still returned to what truly killed his soul, entirely. Whereas you, you hung on to a single thread and you managed to mold your own destiny. Severus Snape did not die. He only transformed…” Aslan’s powerful tone soothed further into a gentle and loving tune, even as a tear escaped Prince’s eye. “If Lily and her husband saw you now, they would be overjoyed. You carried on her tender work of raising their daughter, sparing her from evil, as they so wished on their last night. She always had faith in you. It broke her heart that day, but deeply she knew that you would make the wisest choice. This will be your choice to make. I only ask that you consider this offer with a calm heart.” said the Lion. “I do not desire you to be eaten by self loathing… That is not how others see you. The past no longer plays a part in your life NOW. You shan’t look back and compare, rather, look back and reflect of how different and more you have become ever since you had endured those events. I see a magical boy who escaped an abusive home, he who made a living for himself, from what he knew, he taught and therefore he learned… Instead of using your abilities to bring harm to others, you took that evil and created good out of it. You taught others like you to fight for independence and protection. That is no school you run. It is a home now. You are a magician who anyone can trust. Hence why I come to you now. I have been in silent observance, in search of magical blood worthy to aide my realm.”

At that, Prince rose his eyes to meet the Lion’s, deeply confused.

“I? Worthy enough? To aide the likes of you, whose able to flatten me with a mere stare?”

“You are worthy to me, Orpheus… Someone worth more than a thousand songbirds.” Aslan lovingly smiled. “Show me who you really are ~”

This was no challenge but this was a form of expression. The transformed Wizard, with his chest feeling as though it could burst unleashed a Patronus so bright that it trapped the entire glen in pure white light. In quiet tears, Prince freed a sprightly doe from his wand and she danced about the glen… even inviting the Dryad to prance with her.

“There she is…” Aslan softly whispered with a smile at the sight. “As bright as a spring day…”

“Just as I thought…” the Dryad laughed.

Prince watched his own creation be alive about the glen with a deep wistfulness before she gently came to his hand and he seemed to stroke her head.

“. . . what is it do you wish of me?” Prince soon asked, his soul feeling entirely free for once before solemnly facing the Lion who gently closed in.

[vaguely-concerned]

I am reading the Rogue One visual guide and I’m going to ramble at you about it

Starting with Baze and Chirrut facts because nothing is more important than Baze and Chirrut

- The Guardians of the Whills believe very deeply in the Force but their cosmology doesn’t center any fight between light and dark and they believe mortal minds can ‘encompass the totality of the Force’ with the right training (seemingly even for non-Force sensitives). *thinks of a little green baby who’s going to need some help with his place in the universe one day and how reductive the light/dark side dichotomy can be* good to know good to know. yes everything eventually comes down to baby yoda and his poor stressed out dad. protect them

- “Opposites in balance. Chirrut Îmwe and Baze Malbus share a homeworld and a history, although they strike a compelling contrast. Baze is a hardened pragmatist, while Chirrut’s faith flourishes even in trying times. They both claim to act as the protector of the other.” 

in every way they are #goals. bffs/partners to lovers is Everything. ‘They both claim to act as the protector of the other’ is very funny and very sweet and very true; my favourite thing

- this book describes chirrut as baze’s ‘best friend and moral compass’, which is a funny way of spelling ‘husband of 30 years’ but who am I to criticize 

- baze is just. he’s so good. they say here pragmatism is his biggest trait but you can tell how much love has been at the center of him (and probably continues to be under it all) from the totality of his rage. I don’t think you can be this deeply hurt without loving just as deeply first. (like chirrut says, he used to believe more than anyone and now he’s thrown aside literally everything about the guardians except chirrut) it’s like he’s suffered a moral wound just seeing what’s happened to his home and it won’t heal and it never does, he just loses chirrut too and then at least it’s over. jesus christ it’s so soul crushingly sad in a quiet undramatic way 

- “Though both are Guardians of the Whills, Baze and Chirrut could not be more different in their approach to combat. Traditionalist Chirrut still carries weapons associated with the ancient order, while Baze adopts an implement of modern warfare. Their methods suit them individually, and both are effective extensions of their distinctive personalities. Though Baze may chide Chirrut for his antiques, and Chirrut may decry Baze’s reliance on soulless tools, they trust each other’s defences to such weapons.”

THEY TRUST EACH OTHER’S DEFENCES TO SUCH WEAPONS. YOU HAD TO WORD IT LIKE THAT HUH. YOU HAD TO GO AND MAKE IT CLEAR THEY’RE EACH OTHER’S MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD. WHAT. THE FUCK

- it’s implied baze’s hair used to be shorter when he was a Guardian! he’s just let it grow past what’s customary for them (and an excellent choice too his hair is wonderful)

- his repeating blaster is described as ‘modified and highly illegal’ hahaha

it also weighs 30 kg and is meant to be mounted on a tank

baze is the best

- chirrut built his own lightbow! apparently used to be a thing the guardians did to symbolize the end of their training. I wonder if baze used to have one too? even more I wonder if they’ve always been part of the same uh ‘divisions’ or what have you within the guardians, because I think there are some implications that baze has been more of an assassin/focused on violent conflicts even before the empire came and chirrut hasn’t

- this book does not adequately capture chirrut’s trickster/funny side, making me wonder how much of that was an addition by the actor and how much was planned out

- honestly... more baze & chirrut (well baze/chirrut let’s not play here) prequel books WHEN. what does their living room look like (because we do know they live together) how did they meet, when exactly did baze lose his faith and chirrut his sight, what was their first kiss like 

inquiring minds want to know (it’s me I want to know) 

- unless the wording is deliberately misleading here chirrut was not born blind (though he won’t discuss how he ended up this way) and he’s learned his current fighting technique over a prolonged period of time 

- bodhi is a bit of a gambling addict! and specifically one who’s pretty good at it; even after the empire knows he’s a defector he gets past their restrictions because he’s saved up all the credits/favours/even id-vouchers he’s owed by other imperial grunts fsdhfksdjf precious I love him 

- saw gerrera’s medical droid a) has been modified so its programming won’t stop it from being able to dispense drugs at dangerous intervals, b) professes sheer bafflement that saw is still alive and c) is ‘frequently deactivated to prevent it from building an ethical case to discontinue treatment’. I find the whole thing darkly hilarious.  

- there are literally whole subplots going on in the crowd scenes on Jedha about a mad evil surgeon who ‘decraniates’ people (essentially turning them into mindless servile husks with all of their head above the nose cut off, somehow), a masked cop from the Milvayne Authority who’s gone rogue to do the right thing and hunt him down against orders, a death cult, a bunch of different religious sects, a translation droid who has befriended a group of local orphans and shares his credits with them so they can eat and he’s SAVING UP FOR A PROCESSOR UPGRADE SO HE CAN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND THE NATURE OF SPIRITUALITY ;_____; what the fuck I want a tv-series about this droid IMMEDIATELY 

- this book shows you just how crucial K-2 is as an asset and what a masterstroke cassian’s reprogramming of him is... and it says some very, very sweet things about cassian as a person under all the trauma and spy stuff that he essentially treats him as his best friend instead of a tool. cASSIAN he deserved to survive and have SO much therapy ;_____; ah well at least we’re getting a prequel series about him right? pls be good

- oh cassian was a proper separatist during the clone wars! he probably has some very interesting points of view about the republic pre- and post empire huh (this is what I love about the clone wars era; they have built SUCH a believable and interesting political world here, all shades of grey. there were separatists with very valid points even thought they were lead by a guy named COUNT DOOKU played by CHRISTOPHER LEE, the first sign that you should look inwards and ask yourself... wait are we the bad guys)

- it’s so much more understandable to me now who in the rebel leadership is for following jyn’s plan and who is not. (namely: the ministers of finance and industry are both Not Into challenging the empire directly, kind of understandably)

in depth description of weapons technology... I sleep. deep dives into the political structure of the alliance leadership and their backgrounds and motivations? I have never been happier

(this. sort of should have been in the actual movie tho things would have made more sense)

- BAIL ORGANA Leia’s actual dad out there lookin’ fiiine, being righteous and good, almost making me forget he’s going to die SO SOON oh fuck :( 

- orson krennic is, presumably straight faced, described as ‘a cruel but brilliant man’ which is PATENTLY LUDICROUS because krennic is by literally every indication a fucking idiot, he needs galen to do all the real work for him, he mouths off to DARTH VADER and then tarkin just effortlessly swoops in and fucks him over in the end, easily outmaneuvering him... orson krennic is a fucking loser I don’t care if he’s the one who introduced brutalist architecture to coruscant

lol lol lol *arrow pointing towards krennic’s head* ‘Keen mind dissects architectural puzzles and conspiratorial plots’ okay I see what happened here orson krennic wrote this book 

- oh galen erso is kind of one of the most interesting and heartbreaking characters in all of star wars. (and I do not say this just because of mads mikkelsen’s cheek bones) he’s incredibly intelligent but from a really poor family and wanted to eliminate the difference between rich and poor and invent a new form of infinitely renewable energy... and technically he did achieve that, except his old college buddy orson krennic immediately found a way to use his technology for genocide and he didn’t realize until it was too late :’) there is something so comforting in the fact that in the end galen still got the last laugh in the most epic but unsung way. he’s the sort of quiet Magnificent Bastard who doesn’t even care he’ll never get the credit as long as it worked. u did good on that one jyn

also several of the scientists galen is leading on eadu are in the same category as him -- captured and forced to work for the empire. so that’s great and not at all upsetting 

- galen and lyra’s falling in love story is kind of sweet (though naturally it pales against baze and chirrut’s whole deal but then who could compare) and the sheer effort and detail that’s gone into building the farmstead in the beginning we end up seeing for 5 minutes... dude (it feels very convincingly like somewhere a family would live though) 

- *sees that ‘databook’ is a concept that exists apparently; groans in fic research I thought ‘holodisc’ might do the job but maybe this is a better fit*

- I will say that my largest gripe with this movie is how glaringly unnecessarily male it is. there’s literally no reason for most of the rebels and ESPECIALLY all of the scientists to be male but here we are. 

well the stormtroopers could all canonically be any gender behind the armor so uh that’s. something lol

- despite being all desert-y jedha is apparently quite cool! temperature-wise I mean though the huge ancient statues lying everywhere are pretty awesome too

- wow stormtrooper armor really does just suck huh. it’s like ‘well it might protect you from a blaster bolt if you stand upwind and angle yourself just right, who knows’. I guess this is why everyone and their grandmothers are drooling over mando’s beskar lol

- star wars’ insistence on sticking to single-biome planets is so silly and I love it. stick to that incomprehensible world building decision lucasfilm I respect you

- mon mothma! basically the most important character in the star wars universe who most people won’t know about lol she’s like the anti-palps. for the most part she is one of the most Big Goods in all of star wars (along with bail) but also she’s played by the actress who voices moira in overwatch so I do instinctively distrust her whenever I hear her talk haha. called palpatine a ‘lying executioner’ to his face which is both admirably bold and remarkably restrained, considering all the things palpatine is.

- oof the two people mentioned the most on anakin/vader’s pages are palpatine and obi wan. that’s. hurtful and bad and awful. the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was making me watch ‘clone wars’ because watching ‘clone wars’ actually made me care about anakin skywalker :(

-ah shit this is a lot of pages about pasty empire dudes i’ll uh come back to these lol

[melodyalanaroster]

Serenity Wouldn’t Have Stood For This.

Alana sat in the waiting room, her eyes red from crying so much, tears still streaming down her face. Lyra had brought her a change of clothes so she’d be more comfortable, so when the doctors pushed her out of the room to work on Nathaniel, she slipped into the bathroom and got changed. It was during her time in the bathroom that she called Severina.

“Rini, please come. As fast as possible... Please. I’ll text you the location.” She sobbed. “Mels? What’s going on? Do I need to call Viktor home from his meetings in Australia?” Severina asked, worried. “No, come alone. Just, please. I don’t know if I can hold on for much longer.” Alana begged. “Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Severina sighed before she hung up.

It wasn’t long before Severina had made it to the Waiting Room and found Alana sitting in the fetal position, on the floor, in a corner, sobbing. She set her stuff on the floor by Alana’s bag, walked over to Alana, sat down next to her and put her arm around her. “Mels? What happened? Why are we here? You hate these places.” Alana looked up at Severina for a minute and hugged her. “Nathaniel didn’t want my help. We won’t have jurisdiction over his situation until he wakes up. I’m sure the police will be here soon to investigate the situation. I just hope they can save him.” Severina looked shocked. “What do you mean?! What happened to him?!” Alana proceeded to tell Severina about Nathaniel’s situation, and the stabbing after the Carnival. Nathaniel had begged Kim not to call her, but Kim disobeyed. He even begged Alana to not call for help, and especially to not take him to the Black Tower. Of course, Alana disobeyed by calling Emergency Services and having him taken to the hospital. “Oh my god! Mels!” Severina choked when Alana finished talking. “Yeah, so, they’re doing emergency surgery and giving him blood transfusions. Although, when they learned precisely who I am, not even my sobbing and terror could stop them from asking me why I didn’t take them to the Infirmary at the Black Tower.” Alana put her arms around her knees, tightened the ball she was curled up in and continued sobbing. “Rini, I can’t lose him. I just can’t. Life is meaningless without love... And I love him with everything I have.”

After a few minutes of holding Alana while she sobbed, Severina tried to lighten the mood. “You know? It’s at a time like this where Serenity used the Legendary Silver Crystal to save Endymion and bring him back to life.” Alana got up from the floor, picked a seat by the window and began looking at the night sky. “If I had a powerful force like that, I’d do the exact same thing... Even if it meant using up some of my own life force in the process. He’s worth it.” Severina sat next to her. “So? What are you gonna do when he wakes up?” Alana looked down. “What I want to do is order the Genocide Protocol to be carried out... But I don’t think I can make that call... I desperately want to do it... I want everyone in the Cartel to suffer in the most vicious ways possible... But I don’t think I can, personally, order it to be done. I wanna call Amber and Castiel because I feel like they deserve to know what’s going on... But I don’t have the strength... So? As for what I’m actually gonna do? I’m gonna wait. Wait for what the Doctors have to say, wait for him to wake up, wait for the police to get here...” Alana was staring at the moon, thinking. Thinking about how she should have ignored his request and dealt with Nathaniel’s enemies herself. Thinking about how if he had allowed her to end his troubles, he wouldn’t have been stabbed in the first place. Thinking about how she should have instilled fear into that Cartel when she first saw Nathaniel hanging around those fools. Thinking about how Kim and Amber might blame her for not doing all she could to protect him. Thinking about how Severina was right in the sense of Serenity doing everything in her power to save Endymion each and every time he was in danger, or died. But, this was not the world of Sailor Moon. This was her reality. The reality being that, despite being a highly trained, highly feared and respected, powerful, operative in an organization that could very easily take over the world if they wanted to, she wasn’t there to protect the one she loves most from harm. And now, the very real possibility that he could die was hanging over her head... Like a guillotine, ready to end her at any given second. “Mels?” Severina asked. Alana snapped out of it and looked at her. “Yeah?” Severina hugged her. “It’s gonna be alright. He’s gonna pull through this and be okay.” “How can you be so sure? What if he dies on the operating table tonight? What if someone from the Cartel gets in here and assassinates him when no one is around? What if I can’t instate his immunity fast enough and he goes to prison? What if he goes to prison and gets killed there? What if...” Alana began to babble. “I know he’s gonna be okay because I have faith that you will do everything in your power to save him. I know you’d walk through Tartarus for him. I also know that, by now, the universe owes you one. You deserve happiness and he is the key to it.”

Alana held Severina tighter. “She makes me sound like the Doctor from Doctor Who and compares me to Serenity from Sailor Moon... If I was half as good as them, I could see the universe owing me a favor... But all I’ve done is keep an eye on my mom while she was sick, help my friends, and save a few kids from a human trafficking ring... I haven’t saved the universe.. So, no, the universe doesn’t have to do a damn thing for me, and probably won’t...” She looked at the moon and thought about her relationship with Nathaniel. She could see why Severina was comparing it to Serenity and Endymion. Their High School days were very much like a messed up Silver Millennium, and now they were in the modern times... The times where Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask were fighting to survive and save the people they care about at each and every turn. That meant they still had Crystal Tokyo to reach... The time where they got married, had a baby and enjoyed their lives together... But, that wasn’t the focus right now... She looked in the direction of Nathaniel’s room, then at Severina, then back out the window and muttered the only thing that crossed her mind clearly. “Serenity would fight to the end for her love, risking everything for his safety and happiness... She wouldn’t have stood for that.”

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This is part of Alana’s Canon for Episode 15 of UL. I used Drachea Rannak’s Sailor Scout Maker on Doll Divine for this because I figured it would be best to illustrate Alana’s pain in this form.

[florbelles]

General for Lyra and John please 💜

thank you lovely!! also asked by my loves @consumedkings and @strafethesesinners xx

GENERAL

i. who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

um, god did? ask the voice :/

this essentially comes down to technicalities; theoretically it’s john who pursues her in the most tangible sense, approaching her after the first sermon she attends and inviting her up to the compound ( an invitation she refuses ), and later up to the ranch ( somewhat forcefully via shaggy showing up at her doorstep ) —  none of those instances were intended to initiate a romantic relationship, as his interest was in recruiting her into the project and bringing her in for joseph to speak to her ( and later to confront her about her history and her intentions in coming to hope county, as well as the potential threat she posed ).

he was correct in his conclusions about her aforementioned intents, however, meaning that lyra — though she cast off her plans immediately upon actually hearing joseph speak and gaining insight into the project — had in fact arrived with the intent of using the project and john by proxy, via seducing him, if necessary. ultimately, seduction  ( a method both were willing to resort to ) and manipulation ( a method they both default to ) weren’t necessary, and their relationship developed with the same intent on both sides at the same rate.

lyra did, however, initiate their physical relationship — again, on a technicality, not an objective — so we may tilt it to her side, even if john took the greater initiative in the circumstances that lead them to that point.

ii. did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

they did not, unless one is counting the aforementioned evening at the ranch ( what’s more romantic than being confronted with your history as the most prolific female serial killer in the history of the united states? ). the closest thing they have to a courting phase before they’re essentially living together ( what, she isn’t getting that water pressure anywhere else in the valley ) is in the first weeks while they see each other at sermons and services and later in the evenings, ostensibly for her to give intel on rumors of outside interference — the film crew’s anticipated arrival and her promise to join the project after proving her good faith and dedication upfront deflect the urgency from her personally — and in reality is the beginning of their romantic and sexual involvement.

all jests aside, they do both believe they’re divinely intended and that they were always meant to be brought to the place they find themselves, and that belief combined with their intense and obsessive personalities ensured about a quick escalation in their attachment.

iii. what was their first kiss like?

unfortunate, impulsive and extremely unsexy. her neck was still bleeding from where she’d begun to slice her own throat, john was trying to put pressure on it and twist the knife out of her hand, his nose started bleeding from the collision force when she kissed him, they were caught up and she was on top of him so they started having sex but it was just hurting both of them more than anything. it ended when she butted him in the forehead halfway through, hopped off, started borderline hyperventilating and repeating “i can’t, i’m sorry, i can’t, i’m so sorry,” left him in great confusion and physical pain on the floor and sprinted away. shaggy found him crawling around on the ground cursing and looking for her knife.

they’ve both had much worse! 3.5/10.

iv. were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

definitely not physically speaking, but probably the first ( and canonically only ) great love of each other’s lives, since emotional intimacy isn’t something either of them have historically afforded ( at least in the context of both full awareness and acceptance of what both parties are loving; john is the first person in the world to know exactly who she is and what she’s done, with the possible exception of joseph if you leave out specifics ). on a more technical note, but relatedly, it’s their first marriage.

v. what’s their height difference? age difference?

just under six inches ( ~15 cm ) in bare feet, and just about six years as far as anyone can attest ( the record does not state how many years john seed has been 32, c. 2018 ).

vi. what’s their relationship with each other’s families?

neither of them have any relationship with lyra’s family — she left at sixteen and was disinherited within the year. lyra is a member of the seed family both via her marriage and outside of it; she would have joined the project with or without john. she’s closest to her sister-in-law, faith, but jacob is her mentor and training overseer; she has less personal closeness with joseph purely by virtue of their difference in station, but it’s a positive relationship — she believes him, and he believes in what she is; in that respect, they understand each other in a way unique to them, but that’s painful knowledge. while her closeness with his siblings is mostly a good thing in the context of their relationship, it can also be a mild source of contention when he feels she is valued or adulated in ways that he is not, but that has more to do with his fears about how they perceive him than how she feels about them or how they view her.

mostly, though, their family is the project, and their shared family is enormously important to both of them.

vii. who takes the lead in social situations?

while john would like to say this could be either of them — and it could be, in practice — lyra is more extroverted and affable in a way that genuinely puts others at ease ( generally speaking ). john is more likely to make everyone uncomfortable. remember that time he just walked up to mary may’s truck and asked if she was scared? ugh his interpersonal skills, his mind,

viii. who gets jealousy more easily?

lyra legitimately does not experience jealousy in this capacity at all, so the answer is john, but any petty jealousy that exists is generally outside of the romantic sphere and more regarding his insecurities in the familial realm, particularly with joseph; one of the worst fights they ever have is immediately after the reaping, regarding lyra’s apparent trust in everyone else in the family to have things handled but absolute fury that he interfered after she’d been taken hostage by bombing the bridge — it’s because joseph has seen him die, never her, a source of anxiety that almost cripples her every second of every day, but for him it triggers the fear that the others consider him weak or incompetent, his wife included, and jealousy of the easy praise and confidence seemingly afforded to everyone else by everyone else.

ix. who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

both of them. do not go near them, ever. ever, but especially before or after sermons or seminars. shaggy just wishes they whispered more at home.