i’m just popping in to say that i won’t be active on this account anymore and will likely be deactivating it in the near future (still deciding, but leaning that way).
i didn’t want to leave without sending huge hugs to my moots and to everyone who’s supported my writing here. every like, comment, reblog, and conversation has meant more to me than i can really put into words. this space gave me so much confidence in my ideas and my voice, and i’m endlessly grateful for that.
i’ll still be on tumblr, just on a different account. if you’d like to stay in touch, feel free to dm me and i can pass along the user. i’ll be around here and there while i save things from this blog.
wishing everyone a gentle, creative, and joyful 2026 💛
a Latin phrase literally meaning "with living voice" but most often translated as "by word of mouth."
pairing : husband!arthur morgan x fem!reader
summary : arthur doesn't usually do clean shaves; and when he decides to go against his habit, he finds himself apprehending your reaction. little did he know it would stir up this many emotions within you.
wc : 3.5 k words ⭑.ᐟ
tags : fluff, arthur morgan is an insecure man (poor baby, tell him he's handsome), established relationship, husband!arthur morgan, reader gets jealous
a/n : it's good to see me, isn't it? wink wink (did you get that reference?) anyway! i'm sorta back! ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) i managed to write this in between my busy uni days and i'm really proud of it! so i hope you guys like it ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ i'll update you more at the bottom of the post as i don't want to make this too long!! enjoy <𝟑 .ᐟ (for the people i tagged, check the end of the post mwah ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ )
arthur morgan wasn't a man who cared that much about his appearance. he tried to get baths whenever he could, made sure his clothes were somewhat clean (though it was hard, considering his job), and he cut his hair whenever it got a bit too long to avoid looking like a certain someone he despised. he also made sure to shave often so his beard didn't get too thick and bushy for comfort.
but now that he has you in his life, he started paying attention to his looks a little more.
he tried his best to coordinate his outfit colors, attempted to comb and even pomade his hair sometimes to look neater overall, and made sure he could always see his own reflection in his boots.
that was the wife effect for arthur: he wanted to make an effort for you. you had chosen to be with him till death did you part; and as much as he still struggled to believe that he was enough for you, that you didn't make the wrong choice by choosing to marry him... he still wanted to play the part, to pretend that he could be the sophisticated gentleman he thought you did merit.
so when he looked at his own reflection in the small mirror in his tent this morning, he decided that a shave was due.
he always remembered how in the beginning of your relationship, you'd always giggle whenever he nuzzled against your cheek or neck, because his facial hair would tickle you.
you got used to it now; you even grew the habit of scratching his beard whenever he laid down in bed with you, at night. it always managed to put him to rest so easily. and bonus points because he'd sleep like a baby after.
recently though, his beard did grow to be a bit too itchy than usual.
what to do, he wonders.
arthur usually wasn't one for bold ideas, especially when it came to his appearance. but he opted for a full-on clean shave this time.
it had been a while since his last one. he often avoided them because, for one, his face would feel far too exposed for his liking. at least with the beard, it felt like he was hidden, like people didn't instantly see through him. it acted like protection. a shield, if you will.
for second, going for a clean shave always meant he'd get teasing remarks about it from the others at camp, joking about how he must have some lady waiting for him in town, or that they could "finally see him"... which was precisely what he so desperately wanted to avoid.
and for third, the reason that scared him the most: he apprehended your reaction.
your opinion matters greatly to arthur. nonetheless, he knew that, deep down, you were nothing but kind with him. at worst, you'd sugarcoat it to spare his poor and pathetic self, because you knew how deep his insecurities run. still, he found himself wanting to please his wife. he wanted you to want him. to feel attracted to him like he did with you.
well, even if you did end up disliking it— which arthur internally hoped wouldn't be the case— his facial hair grows back quite quickly, so, it wasn't going to last for too long anyway. he just wants to give himself a fresh start.
regardless of whatever doubt still lingered in the back of his mind, it was inevitable now. he had already lathered his face with shaving cream and tried his best not to accidentally cut himself with his razor, which happened a bit too often to him.
a few minutes later, after rinsing off his face and drying it— there he was. a new man.
he kept scrutinizing himself through the mirror, almost glaring. he wasn't too sure how to feel about it. because in his mind, the lack of a beard wasn't the problem; it was his goddamn face.
he didn't realize how long he stood there having a staring contest with his reflection until he heard whatever new vinyl dutch bought from town being played on his gramophone.
you weren't currently with him in your shared tent. you had slipped away after a quiet good morning kiss to help around camp and make breakfast. you would probably be by the campfire now, waiting for him to bring you two some coffee, so you could sip it and spend some time together before he had to leave camp for the day. it was your little ritual; and right now, you must be wondering what could possible be taking him so long to join you.
so join you he did, without forgetting to bring along two steaming mugs of coffee.
he settles next to you, almost in a shy manner; like a young boy who doesn't quite yet know how to behave around his first love. it was strange, to see a tough burly man like that act with such clumsy hesitance; almost like the tall scrawny boy he once was all those years ago had never left at all. the same tall scrawny boy who had stole your breath away the moment you laid eyes on him, and whom, after years, eventually worked up the courage to confess, and then, to ask for your hand.
you had always found his timid mannerisms to be most endearing; as if he'd somehow forgotten for a moment that you two were quite literally married.
he scoots a little closer to you, his hand reaching to scratch the bottom of his face, which he always did when he struggled to start a conversation. though this time, his muscle memory failed him as he had forgotten his usual beard was gone now, so he quickly fumbled with his hand to rub the back of his neck instead.
the awkwardness of his movements made you chuckle. you took a sip of your coffee, and you watched him do the same, like he just remembered he brought himself a cup too.
"good morning arthur."
your voice was so soft, it felt like that nice morning breeze he's always loved.
"yeah, g'morning darlin'..."
he gives you a side-glance, before he settles on staring at the faint steam rising from his cup.
your gaze stays trained on his side profile, admiring his new look, taking in all the details it allowed you to make out. some moles you had never noticed appeared, and the clean shave made his freckles pop out more. you adored them, always joked about how the sun must be infatuated with him, for it to leave so many kisses on his face. but he always shrugged it off, said they all looked more like burns than kisses. and it always tugged at your heartstrings to hear him say that.
you watched how his fingertips nervously traced the rim of his mug, quietly asking and waiting for a reaction from you, anything; just adress the elephant in the room. why drag it on for so long? how cruel you were, to play with his heart like that. a heart he had so generously entrusted you with.
you knew he was aching for a response, but you enjoyed seeing him anxious over the tiniest things a little too much. and either way, arthur was too fun to tease.
your gaze shifts to the quiet morning scenery in front of you; nature was slowly waking up.
you can't help the smirk that forms on your face, even when you try to sound as nonchalant as you can manage.
"did we have a date today i happened to forget about, honey?"
arthur blinks and confusedly shakes his head.
"not that i recall... no."
"oh, how interesting. so,... maybe you have a romantic rendez-vous with some young maiden downtown?"
that earns you a scoff from him which could be translated to, *how dare you even entertain such a thought?*
"darlin', what are you on about?"
"oh, i don't know", you shrug innocently, "your unusual clean shave just got me wondering, is all."
he groans, and looks you in the eyes for the first time that morning. how they shined like two jewels adorning his face.
"that ain't why i shaved. it just started feeling a bit too itchy... figured i'd just regrow it."
a beat of silence. you keep your gaze trained on his face, a cryptic smile forming on yours.
"hmmm. i see."
it was your turn to scoot closer to him, your knees brushing against his thigh as you put your cup on the floor next to your feet.
"well, i think this look suits you. not more than the beard but, it does fit you well."
"...y'think so?" his eyes widen, and his defensive tone softens under your words. suddenly, he looked like a young child lighting up when getting praised.
"what? you don't believe me?"
"... just don't know if yer still making jokes about me or if yer being honest." he shyly admits, his eyes set on the cup once again.
you giggle and press a kiss on his cheek. it felt strange, not to feel his beard tickling your skin. but for arthur, this enabled him to fully feel the softness of your lips.
goddamn... he should definitely do clean shaves more often.
you nuzzle against his neck, laying your head on his shoulder and he wraps his strong arm around you, keeping you steady against his sturdy form.
"i mean it, arthur."
you look up at arthur and observe as his cheeks turn into a deep crimson. and you noticing it didn't help...
damn it. if he hadn't shaved, maybe his beard would've made it less obvious.
anytime now, you would make a comment about it in that sing-songy tone of yours he loves and hates at the same time. love, because, quite frankly, your voice was one of the most beautiful sounds that ever graced his ears. hate? well, now that he thinks about it, it was a word too strong; he just never knew what to expect with your ever-so witty mind.
"... for a rugged and tough cowboy, you sure can be adorable at times."
ah, there it is. he huffs in indignation.
"that ain't no such thing." he retorted a little too quickly. a blatant lie.
"it is! i managed to make the mean, cold-blooded outlaw blush like a schoolboy."
if your eyes didn't betray you, that made him redden even more.
he straightens his back and shifts a bit away from you on the log, hiding his face under the brim of his hat.
"i...! ain't blushing, yer just seein' things."
"your beard can't save you now~"
there is no denying that, is there? he sighs and grumbles something under his breath as he takes the last sip of his coffee.
his gaze meets yours for a moment, and finds it full of a mischeviousness he couldn't rival; not now, anyway. not when he feels so vulnerable under your lovingly teasing stare.
"... dammit, sweetheart. i can never win with you, can i?" he sighs as he gets up from the log, heading towards your shared tent.
you stay on his trail, almost skipping on the way behind him. "nope. never."
he smiles fondly, as he swiftly moves under the tent flap. you follow suit and sit on his weapon locker, watching as he gathered his flask, his journal, some food.
"you go around saying that and i'll have to silence you, woman." he mutters in a mock warning tone.
he stands in front of you, probably for him to get his weapons. but you don't budge, crossing your legs.
"oh yeah? and just how will you silence me?"
"you don't want to know."
"boohoo, i'm soooo scared." your words were punctuated by an eye roll.
arthur's hand settles on his gun belt as he stares you down. his gaze serious, almost as if he was considering something.
"you'd better be."
you gasp in mock offense. was that a threat? was he really threatening you right now? how could he say that to you? the sun of his days and the moon of his nights?
"arthur morgan, you would not hurt a woman, and especially not your wife." your tone is nearly reprimanding, as if you were admonishing a child for his bad behavior.
"i wasn't thinking of that", his eyebrows knitted in confusion because, how could you even envision a universe where he ever did that?
he cups your chin and tilts your head up to him, his rough thumb gently grazing your bottom lip. "i could shut that smart mouth of yours in tons of ways other than that."
your lips parted further under the touch of his thumb and for a moment it felt like he was casting a spell on you. the energy in the room had shifted, and it felt like you had lost the upper hand. his touch, considering how scarcely he initiated it, especially at the beginning of your relationship, never failed to make your stomach do flips, as if it was the first time all over again.
screw you, arthur morgan, you thought. you hated how he knew that his touch had that much of an effect on you, and what you hated even more, is how he always used that to his advantage.
you gulp and attempt to maintain the sly grin on your face regardless; just to see how far he is willing to go with his... dirty tricks.
"... oh, well. color me intrigued, mister morgan."
that earns you a chuckle from him, a slight darker, the type that made a shiver run down your spine.
he suddenly grabs your forearm, pulling you to your feet, and before you could register anything, you felt warm lips press on yours hungrily. your hands end up gripping his shirt for balance, which makes him place a steady hand on your lower back to prevent you from falling backwards.
this was the type of kiss that made your mind reel; because it felt like arthur was pouring all his love, emotion, and desire into it. the type of kiss that reminded you that, somehow, even after being with you for all this time, that he was still as enamored with you.
once he pulls away, you instantly lick your lips to taste his flavour just for another moment longer. arthur's lips curl up and he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
he murmurs in that soft voice he reserves only for you. "'course i'd never hurt you, darlin'. i'd rather die than do that."
his lips press a soft kiss on your wrist before gently pushing you to the side so he could get his guns from his locker.
you were still in a haze from the kiss, a soft smile adorning your mouth when your brain finally registers his words.
"is it just me or did the shaved look bring forth your romantic side?"
arthur gets up and closes the locker with a thud, tucking his revolvers in his gun belt.
"ain't the shave. 's you." his words slip from his mouth so easily, just like the soft kiss he planted on your forehead.
"cheesy", you mumble, as you watch him move past you to take his satchel and slip out the tent.
you follow him only after seconds, your fuzzy mind still taking in everything that happened just now.
he was saddling up his horse, fixing his satchel and verifying everything was there.
but, still, a tinge of doubt and insecurity lingered in your heart. as much as arthur was oblivious about his good looks, you weren't; and by extension, other women weren't either. you never for a second doubted his faithfulness to you, but just the simple thought of another woman making advances or pushing her luck with him... you hated to say it made your blood boil and your jealousy flare dangerously.
just imagining that made your jaw tighten, and turned your expression sour. you couldn't help the bitter overtone of your mumbled words.
"you'd better turn down the offers you'll get from the women downtown."
he snorts at your words as he feeds his horse some oatcakes. he found it funny, how you were certain he would get hit on. maybe you liked the clean shave a little more than you let on.
your instance of possessiveness did tickle his pride, so he answers almost casually.
"darlin', y'don't have to tell me twice."
your brows furrow when he brushes off your concern like that. you're not joking anymore now, no; these are your real feelings on display. however horrible they make you feel for having them.
"it's just because i know they won't leave it." you mutter, crossing your arms.
"i'll take my gloves off then."
he rids himself of them, revealing his hands, rough and calloused from his daily labor, and on his ring finger, a gold band shone under the sunlight, matching yours.
a wedding ring yes, that should "normally" be enough to get others to back off. yet somehow, it wasn't. worse; the forbiddance of being with a married man only further drew in ladies. it supposedly "added to the thrill", or some half-assed justification along the lines of that.
you pout. "you know that won't be enough."
seeing your downcast expression genuinely tugged at his heart, nearly making him regret shaving altogether. and it also made him wonder how such insecure thoughts had even managed to implant themselves in your head?
you feel two large hands settle their comforting weight on your shoulders, and before you knew it, that made you lift your head to look at arthur. he leans impossibly closer to you, his words hushed, but they spoke volumes. the kind of words that hit you just as hard as a romantic poem made of thousands of verses. he speaks slowly so you can weigh in his words and understand them better.
"then, i'll kindly tell 'em that i'm happily married to the loveliest woman i've ever laid my eyes on... better?"
the wistfulness in his eyes told you he spoke truthfully; and the way he held your gaze for moments after, even in silence, said even more than that; after all, arthur was a man of a few words. so you knew to cherish his sparse attempts at verbally conveying how much you meant to him.
your lips trembled before curling up into a small wobbly smile.
"... better."
quite frankly, the man was skeptical of your answer. but he lacked the tactful elocution needed in these tricky situations, where emotions were at stake. especially yours. everything was clear to him in his heart though. but at every attempt, his words always get jumbled up and, suddenly, it feels like they're not making sense anymore. it feels like they're not even enough to translate how he feels in his flesh and bones when it comes to you. and so he grumbles about how he should just shut his trap altogether instead of even trying. thank god you had the patience of a saint with him though.
arthur makes a mental note to bring you something from town; a broach? a shawl? some hairpins?... maybe make you a wildflower bouquet; ah yes, seeing your eyes light up at the sight of the flowery set never failed to make him feel alive like he's never been before.
he just needs to bring you something meaningful, to prove to you that, although he isn't much vocal, his mind always finds a way to drift back to you during his waking hours.
for now, a soft kiss on your pretty lips would have to do.
he holds you close to him for a moment as quiet reassurance, and feels relieved to see your face slowly light up again; the clouds who had dimmed his sun were gradually disappearing.
"come back to me in one piece, my dear." you whisper, as you watch him mount his horse, reaching for his hand to squeeze. his thumb gently brushes over you ring; a quiet reminder that you're his, just as he's all yours.
"always."
you watch him trail away on his horse, giving a greeting to javier who was guarding camp before taking off to town. but your heart rested a little easier knowing that the man you cherish, that the man who loves you quietly, his affection hidden behind fond glances and whispered words reserved for you, intertwined with the graceful pencil strokes that were, according to him, "a mere attempt" at capturing your alluring radiance, can also be openly loud about you, about you and him. and the fact he found himself able to do that sometimes... that made everything all the more special to you.
a/n two : first off, thank you for reading! if you have been following me, you must've noticed that i haven't been active in over a month. mainly because of self-doubt and insecurity regarding my writing. it has truly been a thrill to write for arthur, and i've had the chance to meet and interact with many sweet people who have supported my craft and myself, and for that i am eternally grateful ♡︎ so for them, i dedicate this piece of writing. thank you for your words of concern and encouragement when i was in doubt. in no particular order, as i hold you all very dear in my heart : @dustyharlan , @stupidgaynerd , @ardeniaa , @d0lliesp1t and of course, @heartsickspider <333 thank you for the many messages and words i have gotten from you all and it is quite literally thanks to you that i find myself posting here today ₊˚⊹♡
nana!!! i’m so sorry it took me so long to read this, but honestly, i wish i had sooner. this fic was so incredibly sweet 💗🥺 it instantly lifted my mood, which is something i’ve really been needing lately, so thank you. and thank you again for including me in your dedication—it genuinely meant so much. i’m so glad my words were able to help, and this is an amazing piece to return with. i’m really happy to see you writing again, and i hope you continue, because you truly have such a way with words.
i absolutely adored your characterizations of both arthur and the reader in this piece. the way you explored arthur’s insecurities and quiet thoughtfulness was beautiful, and i especially loved that you gave the reader her own doubts, too. i wasn’t expecting that, and it made the emotional core feel even richer. and that final paragraph??? actually insane. such a gorgeous way of capturing how arthur shows his love. and yes, he will speak up for his wife!!!
i’ve always loved your use of metaphors and similes (seriously, it’s inspired me to try being more poetic myself. i feel like my writing can be very to-the-point and sometimes stiff, which is absolutely a consequence of being a science major and writing too many research papers lol). there were so many in this fic that i’m obsessed with, especially:
you adored them, always joked about how the sun must be infatuated with him, for it to leave so many kisses on his face.
the sun of his days and the moon of his nights?
the clouds who had dimmed his sun were gradually disappearing.
like hellooooo??? gorgeous. and the way you wove the sun and moon imagery throughout—chef’s kiss.
a few more moments i absolutely loved:
quite frankly, the man was skeptical of your answer. but he lacked the tactful elocution needed in these tricky situations, where emotions were at stake. especially yours. everything was clear to him in his heart though. but at every attempt, his words always get jumbled up and, suddenly, it feels like they're not making sense anymore. it feels like they're not even enough to translate how he feels in his flesh and bones when it comes to you. and so he grumbles about how he should just shut his trap altogether instead of even trying. thank god you had the patience of a saint with him though.
this entire passage felt so arthur: the frustration, the tenderness, the way his feelings are so physical and inarticulate. it hit perfectly.
his touch, considering how scarcely he initiated it, especially at the beginning of your relationship, never failed to make your stomach do flips, as if it was the first time all over again.
his thumb gently brushes over you ring; a quiet reminder that you're his, just as he's all yours.
Hey, just letting you know that the person that told you about what Guillermo Del Toro signed is a radfem. I'm not defending Del Toro for this btw, and honestly, I have no idea WHY he signed that, but it's just something to keep in mind.
Thanks for letting me know! I had a misunderstanding of the term radfem and didn’t realize it could include some really harmful views that I don’t agree with, so after doing a bit of research, I decided to remove their tag from the post.
I’m still keeping the info about Del Toro up, though as I think that part is important for people to know.
I definitely wasn’t expecting that post to blow up the way it did, so it’s been a lot to handle lol.
i love guillermo del toro so much because having a grown man incessantly drink milk to represent his mommy issues has to be one of the funniest ways of doing that ever.
Oh no, I didn’t know this when I made the original post 😭 and I absolutely don’t condone that decision at all.
Since this post has already circulated so widely, I’m not sure deleting or privating it would help much since the reblogs would still be out there and I would rather have anyone who finds it going forward know this information.
So, I’m going to reword the original post so it’s no longer praising GDT and add a note about this. Thank you for letting me know.
i love guillermo del toro so much because having a grown man incessantly drink milk to represent his mommy issues has to be one of the funniest ways of doing that ever.
That's... not what that was about, no. Casting Mia Goth to play his mother AND the object of his obsessive "love" is what symbolised that pretty well, I think. The milk was about making sure we knew he A) wasn't a drunk and B) was high-strung--milk has been a remedy for heartburn and ulcers forever, and that was seen as a symptom of "a nervous disposition" back in the 19th century (and not for nothing--stress DOES cause your body to become more acidic over time, causing all kinds of digestive issues), and the first time we see him drinking milk, he's talking about how he's high-strung, so it's a pretty clear link. Milk is still suggested for acidic problems like heartburn, acid reflux, GERD etc, even if we have discovered ulcers are caused by bacterial infection, and so cured by antibiotics, not milk.
As well, "adult" drinks from the time period, like tea and alcohol, were so acidic they would have been intolerable. Milk is literally the only thing other than water that he would have been able to stomach. It's about his stress-levels, y'all, his stress-levels. It's about making sure we know the way he behaves is him being 100% sober and that it's not him being a drunk or on drugs, it's him being a shit-tier human being.
Thank you for the thoughtful explanation. I agree with your interpretation of the period context and the way the film uses the milk to underline Victor’s sobriety and his high-strung disposition.
I didn't mean to suggest that the milk only represents “mommy issues,” but rather that it is also a deliberate part of the character’s psychological framing. Oscar Isaac mentioned in an interview that he and del Toro would even joke about the motif together, calling it “la lechita.” He also explained the deeper intention behind it, saying that “when he gets nervous or when he needs comfort, he looks for mother’s milk,” and that the milk was “an extension” of Victor’s attachment to his mother.
Because of that, I think both readings can coexist. Here’s the full interview if you’d like to check it out!
i love guillermo del toro so much because having a grown man incessantly drink milk to represent his mommy issues has to be one of the funniest ways of doing that ever.
What are your favorite Cassandra Cain quotes or her quotes that you think encapsulate who she is?
Ohhhhhhhhh
This is just an awesome question! I love it : ) Thank you for asking!!!
“Sorry, Shiva. I don’t kill… but I don’t lose either.”Batgirl (2000-2006) #8
I talk about this quote a lot, I think, but only because I truly believe it deserves it. It is the very quote that changed my relationship with Cassandra and my understanding of her character.
What it encapsulates is a dedication. A personal oath. This is Cass’ declaration of purpose in direct parallel to Bruce’s own declaration of War on Crime. The difference is, Bruce sees the enemy externally. He declares he will make the world better so that a child like he was wouldn’t suffer again. Cass is internally reflecting: the only thing she can control is herself, and that is precisely what she aims to do.
"Yes. He is. But… you’re… not. Okay?”Batgirl (2000-2006) #16
This is from a storyline where Cass helps apprehend the very father a young boy asked her to help save.
It reveals an understanding from Cass — as she was in the same position as the boy, though she personally sees herself as having lost her innocence whereas the boy hasn’t yet. But more than that this is a feature of Cassandra’s compassion. Which I will stand forever by the fact that compassion is the single most important attribute to Cass’ character.
"No. Not you. This.”Batgirl (2000-2006) #50
I find that I’m a lot more affectionate toward Horrocks’ run than most — it’s the run of her series that I started out with years ago and was the basis for how I saw Cass for a long time before getting a hold of the back issues and trades for what came before. But I hold that Cass’ statement here — this statement of her loyalty to what Batman stands for rather than the very fallible man himself encapsulates Cass’ independence and her right for the mantle of Batman.
I mean, Cass really is one of the most quotable heroes in comics. I love quotes. I love Cass. I love Cass quotes. There’s so many more I could just go on and on about (“You can change. You can.” "Instinct. That’s… who you are.” “Am I volving?”“Nobody dies tonight.” “Terror. Then… nothing.” “I see you, Shiva.” “Don’t worry. I’m… a detective.” “I’m not perfect anymore. Take the words away… and give me back my skills.” “Don’t… talk to me like that. Like I’m stupid.” — this is a dangerous door you’ve opened), but unfortunately (or fortunately, really) I don’t have time to get all of them
These three are probably my favorite most consistently, though.
Other favorite quotes include what others say about Cass:
Bruce: “Batgirl is a phenomenon” - Robin 88
Alfred: “You have achieved more in your few short years as Batgirl than many costumed heroes manage in a lifetime. You have saved countless lives, brought justice to the wicked and helped the city regain hope during the most difficult time in its history.” - Batgirl 43
Bronze Tiger: “We made you a warrior. You made yourself a hero” - Batgirl 67
Lady Shiva: “Heroes are forever…the rest of us are just part of the story.” - Batgirl 71
I think the Bronze Tiger personifies who Cass is better than anything else. She was born to be a weapon, a warrior, but she made HERSELF a hero. If I was rebooting Cass and giving her a title thats the tag line I would use to sell her to an audience.
