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13th-dragon-prince · 9 months

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Research Notes; [S.25 Autopsy]

The large leather bound tome lay open across the table. The owner Eljth was nowhere to be found, but you doubt she would mind your curiousness for the stolen notes she’d collected from a world that no longer exists. Opening to one of the first few pages you find the following;

Report A-25b. Penned by Lead Dr. H. Orien. Documentation: Anatomical Findings in S.25.

I have just finished the preliminary dissection of one of the recent subjects [S.25], the body was recovered from a skirmish with the outer squadrons. The Hunters managed to bring this one back intact for once, [Notedly most deceased subjects are brought to the compound lacking heads or whole halves. This is recorded for note for the hardiness required to put down the creatures.] Cause of death remains to be seen.

Nonetheless, observations of the living subjects within the room were met with notions of distress at the sight of the body, I do not know if this is in part of empathy or pity or if they are capable of such emotions. I am the most excited about S.25 being so intact as none of the captive subjects that we currently have are expendable for a vivisection. B.42 seems to be close to death if the hue of white scales is any indication, I shall update in a future report on aetherical starvation.

S.25 weighed an approximate 17,600 Ponus, measuring 3 Fathoms; Addendum for Dr. Y, 18 Feet, horn to tail, standing height of 9. Hunters assisted with the movement of the subject and they have been paid accordingly.

This weight and size appear to be an average for La’Mellae. S.25 was approximately just over two centuries, with the ring count on the bisection of its frontal horns counting about 230. Other subjects support this hypothesis with measurements that do not deviate beyond 2-5% of scale, with all cut rings sharing this deviation on age. It seems to be that most La’Mellae that are sent to the field are between 100 and 200 years old. It is doubtful that this is the oldest they get, as horns have been brought back with rings ranging within 600 or more, and as little as 50. I would very much like to find a subject in the lesser rings to see if these approximations follow in the late-adolescent years or if the growth is sudden.

Outer scales continue to hold that onyx coloration even in death, thickened patterning across S.25 which may attribute to the age it had reached before this point. Removing them reveals the whole of the armor is connected to the skin underneath with strings of pale white nerves attached across the underside. Hypothesis; La’Mellae are capable of reading the aether around them through these scales, this in turn is why so many scouts are caught due to the blocking flow their bodies create. Testing is required to see if electrical currents can disrupt this sight for potential weapon augmentation.

The ‘unguarded’ skin that we often aim for is actually not without protection on closer inspection. Peeling out these miniature scales reveals the same growth of nerves starting but at a much lesser degree than the aether-dense chitin. Fat does not seem to be readily available between the muscles and bone. Hypothesis: Without natural fat to burn, this causes the constant hunger within the La’Mellae. Natural starvation is not possible due to the omnivore tendencies they have displayed for eating anything aetherically sound. Studies may still be pursued to see if poison is possible.

Claws appear to be made of something outside of a natural keratin as I would expect - further study has found them to be inorganic, and most likely why La’Mellae have been witnessed eating inanimate objects such as the volcanic stones they live in. This also means that there is a lack of nerve connection to the talons beyond their baseline connection. Secondary report is needed.

Eyes and pupil reactivity are unable to be studied with an inactive subject. Further reports will be filed using G.90 and G.91. It is noted that there is present a tertiary film in the lower lid, most likely used for keeping the eyes themselves clean while retaining sight. Tests needed for if these lids are used underwater, and if so, test any negative reaction to other liquids such as oils or metals; Addendum, reason for defense against attacks on aquatic settlements. Submerging a subject should prove to test hypothesis, and secondarily the lung capacity of La’Mellae.

Ears, Audio Cue, and Pitch will be studied with an active subject for responses. Further reports will be filed using V.6 - It has already been noted in a prior report that the membrane of the ears themselves is what captures specific sounds, they are sensitive to touch but heal quickly when dismembered.

The tongue (colored a dark blue like most of the innards of La’Mellae) is longer than anticipated, with S.25’s muscle from inner connection to tip measuring at 12 inches. Discounting the space of the oral cavity, this leaves about 9 inches of muscle to be used outside of the mouth - this matches with the average of 10/8 inches respectfully- when pulling out the appendage it is noted that there is a ‘U’ shaped bone along the lower jaw that holds the full length, which rose when I pulled the muscle clean. Beyond this bone aspects of the jaw appear to match that of our physiology. Along the upper texture of the muscle is a dense amount of hooked barbs akin to that of Coeurls. These are no doubt used to clean meat from bone or to clean dirt from their scales as has been witnessed with live subjects, the dexterous nature of the tongue aptly described as prehensile. Report needed on if tongues are required for eating, and how nerve receptors interact. Can they be used as negative reinforcement towards carnivorous habits?

Internal dissection notes below;

Cutting into the skin has proven to be as difficult as we’ve come to know, even with dead tissue the resistance along the seam of the chest required more force than I could provide, and a stronger tool was needed. Within the cavity of the subject the bone structure is reminiscent of our own; Such as the Sternum, Clavicle and Manubrium. In difference however, I am quick to notice that they only appear to have 6 rows of ribs as opposed to our 12, with each of these upon a cross section possessing a slightly porous membrane throughout. This bendability within the bones may be why La’Mellae are as flexibly as they are, including the lacking fact of the ‘extra’ rows of ribs that would facilitate the more drastic movements into difficult places. Keeping this in mind will help to find different architectural defenses.

While the bones themselves are a bleached white, akin to their teeth, the muscles and tissue inside are mixed hues of blues and blacks, with some of these membranes turning red after sufficient exposure to the oxygen in the air. Does this imply that they have a low requirement for Oxygenation in their blood? Perhaps this has something to do with the heights they are comfortable living at. Tests are required.

Perhaps the most notable factor of this report is the discovery that past dissections of half complete bodies have indeed compromised prior research. With a complete body it is confirmed that La’Mellae do not have most, if any, of our internal organs. The only ones that I can place in connection are the lungs and stomach. This explains the lacking rows of false ribs as there is nothing for the body to protect - the documented Core is in place of the Heart in the center of the Sternum - S.25’s Core seems to be nearly purely spherical and seems to inactive on death akin to an unaspected crystal. Further reports will be set aside for the Core directly.

Lacking an intestional track, kidneys, and the varitable other organs we use for conversion of calories proves the hypothesis that the ‘stomach’ (A single organ that connects from larynx/throat to the tissue surrounding the Core) is capable of breaking down anything that is aetherically sound. Some items such as unaspected stone that makes up their wasteland territory, seem to be eaten to balance this aether and potentially construct the chitin of their scales and claws. More research is needed.

Beyond ‘living’ organs, the rest of the space in their abdominal cavity seems to be reserved for internalized genitalia, both in penile and what can be assumed ovary sacs. With an sheath cavity that functions similar to that of vaginal format, the amount of elasticity that the channel and the ends within is astonishing to say the least, and this, I assume, is due to the violent nature of intercourse to keep from internal aspects being damaged from differences in size. I am left with only hypothesizing once again for the ‘Penis’ within to fill with blood similar to our own and be used externally in that manner to fill that canal in another La’Mellae. Insinuating both functions are available to all La’Mellae, this decreases the possibility of population control if any are capable of bearing eggs for offspring.

While S.25 has answered some of our original hypothesis, far more questions have been posed that can only be studied further within living subjects. I will have to ask the Hunters to provide more subjects for study.

Additional reports will follow.

Lead Dr. H. Orien.

#[research notes]#It's an Autopsy Report be warned #Most of the Research Notes will be FUCKED #Long post #This is me just summarizing LOL Each of these will get more notes directly #cause I just think lore is neat #tw: surgery #tw: long post #tw: death

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pegasusknightsonly · 1 year

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now that im at endgame i want to quickly run through my team and what i learned about awakening luna playing it again after seven or so years

what i learned:

i used WAY too many units. nice as it was to have a full second gen trip the late game it was not really feasible without a lot of grinding

its generally better to play aggressive than defensive on maps, even if it means you're not using pair up so you have better action economy. chapter 4 and chapter 9 were really tough until i went all out with the aggression.

myrmidon might actually be good in Luna bc avo+10 becomes really really good when it's cancelling out a whole bunch of hit+10s. this does not fix lon'qu's bulk issues.

map skirmishes blocking useful shops are the fucking devil and not something you can do anything about other than wait until you hit endgame. really annoying feature

DLC doesn't scale to game difficulty!! that's fun

weapon forging is my new best friend

van/ven is still ABSOLUTELY broken and Owain hard carried my team through several maps

and my thoughts on my team!!

Robin - i actually think i fucked up by second sealing at twenty instead of promoting? armsthrift is nice and i wanted it for Morgan's inheritance but robin fell off really really hard by the midgame and i never got him back so it would have been nice to have rally spectrum available when that happened. ultimately that was ok for me bc unlike the luna guides will tell you i was not solely relying on robin for the front lines but oof he fell off harder than Fred

Chrom - Chrom is Chrom. not much to say there. he didn't get to see a lot of combat early which kind of worked out in my favour bc it meant he was still in lord in chapter 12 and gave Sumia some HUGE effective dual strikes with his rapier. it might actually be worth delaying his first class change to get that?? as usual i went archer -> bow knight and he was great in both. rally skill is actually really good to have on a non-combat unit in later maps where everything has so much speed and avo, it definitely made the difference for Nah a couple of times

Sumia - MVP. oh my god she was so good. i had to grind Olivia anyway so i ran her through great knight and although i don't want her to see any enemy phase combat at this point it has been really helpful to have her fly in, kill something annoying with a luna proc and fly out again to physic or rescue. rally speed has been really helpful as well! i had to do a little hand holding with her in chapter two but early investment pays off so well and i can't think of another unit who can transition from frontliner to support as well as she can. love her.

Fred - when people say awakening luna is unplayable without using Fred are they like. are they just bad at the game? don't get me wrong he was fine but imo the Fred carry/Robin carry meta really only is true until chapter 3 which is... not long, and definitely not long enough for Fred to have the kind of reverence he has in Luna meta. idk. he was fine! i had to finagle a bit to get him and Olivia married which was a pain but then it was nice being able to give Olivia extra move via pairup in the late game.

Olivia - i normally bench her after getting the kids when i play hard bc galeforce is just better than dancing and she becomes a liability with the ambush reinforcements so it was kind of novel to still be deploying her in the valm arc, even though that was mostly just to dance Sumia so i had two actions worth of healing. i had to do a LOT of grinding with DLC to get her galeforce for inheritance which was pretty painful and her stats were never that good. dance utility for my healer has been pretty nice!

Sully - i probably shouldn't have used her and shouldn't have given her the resources that normally go to wyvern Panne but i LIKE her and she did really really well in chapter 12 after she promoted and got lance access back. Gaius s support is solid but those first few levels before reclassing were really difficult because her bases are just so low. if awakening luna slightly bumped up everyone's bases it would be a joy to play.

Panne - it says a lot about how good wyvern Panne is that i brought her back in to the team way too late and she not only kept up but then outperformed Sully who'd had so much more investment. brokenly good unit and by the time i got Yarne she had late game worthy stats. the lack of galeforce kind of hurts as does her weapon ranks - she was stuck using bronze axes for so, so long - but yeah. good unit. believe the hype.

Nowi - i have really mixed feelings about Nowi's performance because it was just. so painful. her bases do not get bumped enough and at the start everything was doubling her and her awful 18HP. speed issues continued for a long long time but she eventually kind of pulled it together. a bit. not sure I'll do this again

Vaike and Lon'qu - mostly they were used to produce Nah and Yarne respectively but they were ok!! really solid backpacks. Vaike's stats were toilet tier for a long long time but he got there eventually. lon'qu loved dual striking for panne so much it got her in trouble a couple of times. it's good that they can support each other as well!

Gregor and Miriel - i put so much into Miriel lmao i love her. woteva. she was fine, bulk and survivability issues but that's pretty standard for Miriel. i also had trouble with her critting things i did not want critted. Gregor got so little investment i actually felt kind of bad for him. i promoted him after like... one or two levels worth of dual striking experience but i probably should've done it sooner

Lissa and Libra - early promotion to get Lissa tomefaire (mostly from rescue staff abuse) was worth it! really solid performance from both of them and Lissa had decent offenses on her galeforce grind. i wish I'd used Libra as a frontliner more but ultimately Lissa needed more exp than him and that's how it worked out, but it felt like a missed opportunity bc Libra in luna is really, really good.

Sumia!Lucina - i was worried about her stats on recruitment but she's been really really good and had some fantastic survivability thanks to her aether procs. great unit, does everything she needs to. i ran her through great lord for rfk + rapier access and that worked pretty well! her final class was between bow knight and paladin but surprisingly paladin has better overall stats and she didn't desperately want anything from bow knight. i don't think i would want to do anything dramatically different with her

Chrom!Cynthia - BEAST. BEAST. BEAST. ALL OVER THE SHOP

Libra!Owain - my only van/ven build and boy did he do good work with it. kind of ruined a couple of maps when the computer abandoned all reason and prioritised attacking him bc he was a staff unit which was a pain but ultimately pretty recoverable. van/ven is good! van/ven owain is good!!

Gaius!Kjelle - sadly she became mostly just a pair up bot for Owain. i never quite got her offences up to scratch to get her galeforce which was a real shame. Owain appreciated the stats and a partner with flight though

Frederick!Inigo - ugh. my only real disappointment in this run. speed!! speed!!! where is his fucking speed!!!! giving him galeforce was nice and all but he can't use it very well if he can't fucking double!!!! Inigo!!!! what's going on there!!!!!! i think Fred passed down dual guard+ which is fine but ultimately inigo would've been better with either luna (the lack of offensive procs really started to hurt him) or deliverer for extra movement for Cynthia. kind of pain to level and promote. he relied on his s support with Cynthia a LOT.

Vaike!Nah - might have been a little too ambitious to want to run her through merc and hero before bringing her back to manakete but those Vaike offenses ended up really paying off. very very slow to start cooking but so good once she got going. sightly too tanky? enemies tended to avoid her on EP which wasn't helpful. her sol proc rates also need some work but overall a really solid unit and one i might bring back to hard mode or use in luna again.

Lon'qu!Yarne - I'm glad i made the decision to bring Panne back to avoid Lon'qu/Lissa. listen. i have not asked Yarne to do too much but he has done it so well and has probably contributed the most in battles for the least exp. bless him! bless his name!!! i wish Panne gave him a better class set. he could have been everything.... that said, even if my original plan of barbarian -> beserker -> griffon didn't work out due to lack of EXP he still did really well and sat in an unpromoted class until chapter 25 when i took pity on him and went to a DLC map. really solid guy.

Gregor!Laurent - i had such plans for a strong and bulky nostank with armsthrift and then it just... never happened. im sorry Laurent. i don't think i ever gave Gregor enough levels to make that work. he did ok promoting to dark knight instead of sorc to be Morgan's pair up bot but i kind of wish I'd managed to get him going. i have two forged Nosferatu in my convoy that i now can't use. whoops

Lucina! Morgan - less than 25 str or mag as a level 10 dark flier was not it. great crits, great aether procs but what the hell happened to her offensive stats. bizarre. probably not unfixable but she's going to close out the game as a rally spectrum bot. rip

Cynthia got the most MVP awards but Owain was just so, so good and Lucina did everything i needed her to. Sumia!!! she's so good!!!!! anyway i had a lot of fun with this run once i found my feet with it and i... honestly will probably finish it and immediately start another one lmao. it was fun!!!!

#awakening theoryposting #awakening luna tag #awakening lb

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hypmicdaydreams · 3 years

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Hi hi!! Congrats on reaching 100 followers! You deserve all that support and more! If requests are still open, can I request Jakurai and "in the water" and "a bet" from the kissing prompt list? Haha i thought it could be something fun fishing related but anything you can think of is fine with me!!

Ahh thank you so much for your kind words anon! I'm gonna be honest, it was a bit hard coming up for a scenario for this prompt, but I think I managed to write something somewhat decent? It was still really fun though! Hope this was along the lines of what you wanted! Thank you for the request and hope you enjoy 💕

"𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝘁" with jakurai

-pairing: jakurai jinguji x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

-summary: given how shy you were when it came to intimacy, especially if you were the one to initiate it, you’ve never taken the first step to kiss your boyfriend. it was always him kissing you. that all changes upon this fishing trip

-word count: ~1.2k

usually, you’d be quite at ease on your fishing trips with jakurai, finding it the perfect time to unwind after a tiresome week at work; but this time, you couldn’t help but be anxious, a bit skirmish as you sat next to your boyfriend. your mind was somewhere else entirely at the moment rather than focusing on the beautiful natural scenery around you or on your fishing rod that was bending at the moment. you were waiting for a chance to catch a fish all day by now; too bad you were too busy thinking of something else to notice one right below your nose.

annnd it got away. great.

“darling, are you alright?” at the sound of his voice, you snapped out of your trance and looked towards jakurai, who seemed to be closer than you than you had previously remembered. when did he get so close? you surely didn’t mind considering that his presence was always comforting, no matter how close or far he was (jakurai had the ability to calm any room he walked in upon entrance); but well, considering what was on your mind right at this very instant, you felt a bit flustered at his proximity.

“yes?” not very convincing and certainly didn’t wash away the concerned look on his face. “i’m fine. why wouldn’t i be?” well, given how you paid no mind to the fact that a fish got stuck on your hook and how your eyes seemed to be so distant, as if you were focusing on something else entirely, perhaps jakurai did have a valid reason for worrying about your wellbeing.

truth be told, you were too busy worrying over keeping your end of the deal you had made with a friend. despite being in a relationship with someone you loved very much, you also couldn’t help but get all shy and embarrassed each time you tried to be intimate. it was one thing for jakurai to initiate it, but it was something else when it came to you. each time you tried to kiss him or even cuddle, your heart skipped one too many beats, the butterflies in your stomach was starting to make you feel nauseous, and you felt your face heat up at the mere thought of it. basically, it all became too much, and you never could find it in yourself to do it.

so your friend had made a bet that you wouldn’t be able to kiss your boyfriend first, and naturally, as a competitive person, you bet them that you would. which led to the predicament that you were in now: trying to figure out what would be the perfect time to kiss him.

you contemplated on doing so on the care ride over, but you were still too busy trying to hype yourself up by then. right now, while the two of you were on the boat, would also be quite romantic, surrounded by the serene water as it was just you two in the middle of it. unfortunately, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to take action, still getting much too flustered at the mere thought of it.

while you were too busy convincing yourself that you definitely would, without a doubt, kiss jakurai at the end of this trip, you failed to account for the fact that the boat was becoming much too unstable (you still had no idea from what), swaying back and forth, as jakurai tried to tell you so.

“darling-”

“hm?”

and then it capsized.

the water was much too cold despite the fact that it was a rather warm sunny day out, and it was a pain trying to get your eyes adjusted once you rubbed all the pain away, though they still stung. this was an interesting turn of events to say the least, and you didn’t know how to feel about it, except for when you turned to jakurai.

he seemed to be just as bewildered as you at the moment, but before long, he broke out into a chuckle, contagious enough to infect you as well. it was such a silly situation, and with the two of you soaked to the bone right now, you couldn’t help but laugh at what had just occurred. it was a bit entertaining in a way, how fast your heart was racing, the intimacy of it all. it felt like time had somehow stopped in a way.

and as you heard his warm laugh, the one that never failed to make you feel butterflies, the bet you had made with your friend popped into your mind again. well, it was now or never, and this did seem like the perfect situation. whether it was the adrenaline or the murkiness of your thoughts, you decided to act on your feeling, immediately connecting your lips with jakurai’s and giving him a quick kiss. it definitely did nothing to quell your racing heart or the way your face flared up, but it felt oh so good. why hadn’t you done this before?

when you separated, you couldn’t bear to look at him, turning around to avoid his gaze and feeling way too shy given what you had just done. sure the two of you were dating, but sudden intimate contact like that was too much for you to take. well, at least you had won the bet at the end, even if it cost you stepping out of your comfort zone.

“i think that was the first time you kissed me.”

at the sound of jakurai’s voice, you turned back around, though still rather hesitant to meet his gaze; but when you did, finding that soft smile of his you adored so much, you pretty much felt your heart give up. you were glad that he didn’t seem to mind, but the fact that he had pointed it out only served to make you feel more flustered.

“y-yes,” was the only thing you managed to squeak out, still finding it difficult to speak due to the overwhelming emotions you felt at the moment. jakurai found your reaction to be quite amusing, in a good way of course. it was interesting how even after many months into your guys’ relationship, you still got rather shy at any sign of affection. it was cute.

“i quite liked it.”

those words were enough to almost push you off the edge. hearing him say that he liked your kiss, that he liked it when you were the one to initiate it, well, it was still too much. then again, despite all these feelings, it still felt rather good to have kissed jakurai first. perhaps you should do it much more often, especially since he seemed to love it just as much as you.

just yesterday you never would’ve imagined yourself kissing jakurai first, much less twice in a row, but well, the circumstances called for it. right at his words, you pressed your lips against his again, this time in a much longer and more passionate kiss. even if you practically couldn’t feel anything anymore in your face rather than heat, even if the two of you were bound to catch colds the next day from how soaking wet you were, you didn’t care. this feeling was simply the best.

you couldn’t wait to have your friend buy you lunch for the next week.

#asks #requests #milestone event #kissing prompts #hypmic #hypnosis mic #jakurai jinguji #jakurai x reader #fluff #fic #gender neutral reader

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years

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Shut Your Mouth

Small daminette one-shot, aged up characters. Close to Robin V’’s retirement, close to Hawkmoth’s defeat.

Word count: 1350

Enjoy!

----

Robin irately observed the spotted hero sitting on top of the stairs leading to the second floor. She seemed to like high places, he noted to himself. She was currently using her yoyo’s compact form, tapping and scrolling through something.

The hero in question had been Ladybug, Scarlet Luck of the city of Paris. She’d come all the way from the JLE headquarters to the JLA ground site to receive tutelage under Batman and Red Robin themselves. That meant she wasn’t hopeless at least, but he didn’t see that as an accomplishment.

However, he could admit that she was a competent hero and good at what she did. He wouldn’t tolerate a daytime hero otherwise. She was good at improvisation and quick-witted, well organized and well spoken. She was decisive and leveraged herself as a pillar of strength and support for the citizens of Paris, her team included.

In that way, Robin and Ladybug had quietly bonded, being leaders of their own team and often sitting in silence together as they worked on their own tasks. It was neither amicable nor awkward, at least now and for the time being, merely productive.

And regardless of what Grayson said, he did not like her. At all. In fact, there were a number of things he detested in regards to her character.

First, there was her lack of confidence. While her image as the certain and sure-footed Ladybug was maintained by the lack of media coverage and professional conduct, she was more unsure of herself than not despite her blatant skills, effectively crippling her investigation into Hawkmoth’s identity, the most crucial aspect of her job.

The moment someone’s opinion differed from her own she would second guess her decisions, wasting time and brain cells on a different perspective when all she needed were the facts and her own conviction.

Next, was her inane denial. She constantly proclaimed that Chat Noir was her partner, but where she saw an equal, the rest of the world saw ‘sidekick’. Granted, the cat hero could perform well, he wouldn’t still be here if he couldn’t, but he clearly did not contribute as much as he should be.

The one left to do all the planning, coming up with strategy after strategy, as well as resuscitating the dead, dying, and brainwashed, was Ladybug. He was a sidekick who needed to stop being coddled so that he could reach his full potential.

Lastly, was her leadership role. It was solid and her team didn’t question her judgement, he would give her that, but her team members weren’t solid enough to be relied upon. Chat was a one trick pony, more often a hindrance than not, Queen Bee had ultimately ruined any chance of wielding a miraculous again, Ryuko didn’t follow orders, Carapace was overtly prioritizing Rena Rouge over the rest of the team and Rena Rouge was recklessly endangering herself and others by either giving away her position, or clinging so close to the other heroes that she was a direct inconvenience.

And don’t even get him started on Viperion. One of Ladybug’s few competent allies and he retires?! For what reason, when he’s only participated in less than ten skirmishes, the lout. She needed to establish more than the ground rules, she needed to make clear expectations.

So, no. He did not like Ladybug. He didn’t hate her either. She did her job, worked with what she had, and left him to his own devices whenever they’d interact.

Except for now. Sort of.

Technically she hadn’t said anything, but every now and then she would glance up from her compact and thoughtfully observe his tight expression.

“Speak up or stop gawking,” he finally snapped. Ladybug’s thoughtful gaze quickly glimmered into something else, but it was gone before he could identify it.

“Trouble in Jump?” Robin didn’t care for being figured out so easily.

“Jump is none of your concern.”

She tilted her head. “No, but it is yours’s. Tell me about it?”

He just glared darkly, and she raised her hands in surrender.

“Okay, I get it. I wasn’t asking to be nosy or anything, you just seem less stoic than usual, like you’re upset or angry, so I wanted to offer an ear,” she waved her hands, a foolish tell she needed to correct.

“Upset? Angry?!” He leaped up to pace around the room, cape swirling being him.

“I’m neither of those paltry emotions, angry and upset cannot begin to communicate sheer fury that boils in me!” His cadence was fast and biting.

“How much more will I have to fight to keep my position as leader of the Titans?! Have I not proven myself time and again to be trustworthy, yet my efforts are only met with scrutiny and skepticism as though I’m still that same child from all those years ago,” he dragged a hand through his hair without dislodging his hood.

“What more do they want from me, what more could I possibly give them to prove myself, how--how do I…” he trailed off from his rant, mutely horrified.

“...Robin?” Ladybug hesitantly called. “Um--?!” He rushed to stand above her on the steps.

“You will speak of this to no one.” He threatened. Her worried expression quickly flipped to that of annoyance.

“Yeah, I gathered,” She scoffed sarcastically and stood on a higher step, looking down at him.

He gritted his teeth. “You want something, so name it.”

“Pardon?”

“You wouldn’t offer something without knowing you’d receive benefits, so let’s just get this--”

“Oh Mon Dieu!” she groaned under her palm. “I’m not blackmailing you, moron. I--”

“Who are you calling moron?!” he growled.

“Just look up, damn it!” she snapped. He brashly tilted his head up.

“What--!” could looking up tell me about this situation, is what he would’ve said, but the world just…

It was as if time slowed to a crawl. Every nerve ending, each skin cell gained a hyper awareness rare outside of combat.

What…

He could feel hot, gentle puffs of air on his right cheek. Heat was effusing through his body, soft and tender. Ladybug was closer than she’d ever been, close enough to see the detailed fibers of her mask. Ladybug was close because Ladybug was kissing him.

Why was she…? Robin couldn’t think, everything was focused on Ladybug. She pressed down and his head further tilted, accommodating her completely. Her lips were warm, sliding against his silkily, parting to slip her tongue into his mouth. The air got hotter.

Why am I…? Her tongue was slowly and possessively wrapping around his. He still couldn’t think. Then, it was over all too soon.

Ladybug pulled away with a quiet noise and he leaned into her space, eyes belatedly flickering open. When had he closed them?

“...” Robin gazed up, stunned.

“That’s...not why I offered, but I got lost in the moment,” Her blue eyes were steel, unyielding. Unapologetic. Strength left his limbs, the only reason he was still standing was because of sheer pride and willpower.

“...”

“Robin, I offered because it looked like you wanted to shut yourself away. I know what that looks like, from others as well as myself. It’s not a good mindset to be in, and I wouldn’t let you sink to that without at least trying to talk to you.” She bit her lip and he locked onto the motion behind his mask, frozen stiff.

“I...I don’t know what to say and I don’t know how to help, but I do know that I can at least listen to you so you can know that you’re heard. That you’re being understood.” She brought up her compact and input some command and his utility belt beeped.

“I just sent you my contact information. Call me whenever, for whatever.” She clasped her hand on his shoulder as she descended the stairwell.

“I gotta go deal with an akuma. See you later, yeah?”

“....”

Just like that, Robin was left alone in the break lounge, halfway up the staircase and gaping up at the ceiling like a complete imbecile. Red, weak-kneed, and utterly stupefied.

What…?

-----

The end. Now validate me.

#daminette #maribat #mlb x dc #oneshot #ficlet #maridami #marinette x damian

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indigowallbreaker · 3 years

Note

I haven’t seen any posts addressing this but maybe I’ve missed just missed them. How does Hubert resolve his devotion for Edelgard and his love for Ferdinand. I imagine this has gotten in the way of his relationship with Ferdie at least once and resulted in a very big misunderstanding, some soul searching and long heart dealt conversation. For maximum feels i hc that they seperate during this time and Ferdie stays with Lorenz and sorta ghosts Hubert. I don’t know what the conversation looks like but I was wondering if you had thoughts on this? Does Ferdie come first for Hubert and if not does this ever hurt Ferdinand especially given he seems to have a bit of an inferiority complex (sorry for the long ask)

(no worries for the long ask; sorry this took a bit to answer!)

I touched on this topic briefly in the form of a prompt fic which you can read here. It’s the resolution but it still speaks to the Hubert-Edelgard-Ferdinand dynamic.

Let’s first address your headcanon: it’s realistic to assume that the topic of Edelgard is a point of contention at least once between Hubert and Ferdinand. They both work for her and are devoted to her vision of the future, but in private it likely chafes a bit. It would be in character for resentment to build little by little and blow up in the form of a misunderstanding like you mention. I agree that Ferdinand could should and would stay with Lorenz at this time-- fellow noble friend and and very willing to lend an ear to Ferdinand’s drama.

I do think any issues regarding Hubert’s devotion to Edelgard would not be as a result of anything Edelgard herself does. In Byleth’s S-Support with Hubert, he says of Edelgard:

Hubert: I've already spoken to Her Majesty about this. She told me to follow my heart. She seems to prefer that you be with me rather than some dubious individual. So, you could say that we have her blessing.

So clearly Edelgard WANTS Hubert to have a life outside of her/work, and would prefer literally anybody over someone ‘dubious’.

(sidebar-- I am forever wondering who tf she is thinking of when she says this to him. Jeritza? Someone from Slither?? Edelgard, whom would you disapprove of for your right hand man???)

Anyway, it’s obvious that Edelgard wouldn’t try and get in the way of Ferdinand and Hubert. While things are a lot better between Edelgard and Ferdinand by their A-Support, Ferdinand still has it in his head that he needs to surpass Edelgard in some regard (the complex, as you mentioned) even though Edelgard has made it clear that she values him as he is. I like to think this fades over time as Ferdinand proves himself in his own right, but likely there were times early on where tempers flared.

I can easily imagine a situation where Ferdinand tries to one-up Edelgard and she brushes it off like “focus, Duke Aegir, this is important” and Ferdinand gets all frustrated that she won’t acknowledge his results (however small said result was; maybe he did real good in a skirmish? Took out more than Edelgard?). He complains to Hubert, who, of course, takes Edelgard’s side. He tries to calm Ferdinand by telling him it doesn’t matter anyway; why make a big deal out of it? Such a callous remark would have Ferdinand fuming. Hubert just doesn’t get it.

In this case, I think Ferdinand would start reflecting on WHY he wants to surpass Edelgard so badly (the soul searching you mentioned) and maybe it would start him on the path to calming down that drive. Probably Hubert realizes his mistake later and apologizes to the tune of “I did not mean to belittle your efforts. Of course you are impressive, but I will remind you that there are other important matters at stake now that we run the government. School yard rivalries will have to end.”

( [sarcastic] ”Oh should I woo Edelgard as well? That is how my last school rivalry ended.” “Your rivalry with Edelgard was completely one sided and I expect any wooing would yield similar secondhand embarrassment.”)

In the prompt linked above, I hint at a situation where Ferdinand forced Hubert to pick between Ferdinand and Edelgard. The context is never given since it’s not the main focus of the prompt, but I imply it was a situation where Ferdinand asked Hubert to pick who he would save in a life or death hypothetical (or something similar). You can see how I thought that would go. I’m a big fan of communication and couples talking things out. Once they both simmer down, I’m sure they would be willing to sit and talk about the situation with clear heads and make sure they’re on the same page of this relationship. They love each other, want this to work, and are used to approaching things diplomatically at this point.

I think there’s room for both Edelgard AND Ferdinand in Hubert’s life as long as there’s a clear line of communication. Ferdinand needs to understand that Edelgard comes first and always will; Hubert needs to learn when it’s necessary to put Ferdinand/ his own happiness first. It’s almost like Ferdinand is, by default, First to Hubert-- until it’s something involving Edelgard, in which case she takes that spot.

This reply is long enough but I want to touch on this line from Hubert’s A-Support with Byleth:

Hubert: Heh. I've already dedicated my life to Lady Edelgard. To throw my lot in with you is inconceivable. But if I had two lives to give... I might devote one of them to you. We could be a couplet of birds, flying along the sovereign of Black Eagles...

This makes me believe that Hubert’s ideal future is himself and his partner (the one who he dedicates his other life to) working along side the Empire. His personal life and his work life forever intertwined. Ferdinand, as Prime Minister, is already work life and, with a bit of courting, can easily be private life; making this vision a reality. Any issues regarding Edelgard in their private life have to be dealt with swiftly if they wish to keep working together for her. Something that probably requires practice but I’m sure they’ll get there in time.

In my head, it’s easier for Hubert to detach from Edelgard somewhat once she has her own partner. Someone else who can stand by her side and see to her emotional and physical safety. Not to mentioned Edelgard and her partner would likely enjoy some alone time and thus Hubert is free more often. Bonus if it’s someone he trust like the Professor or a fellow Eagles.

In short, Edelgard comes first for Hubert, truly. But Ferdinand is on par with her. Hubert has to pour out his heart to Ferdinand to make him understand this (he shares the story of running after her when he’s taken to the Kingdom, learning of the experiments later, etc) but eventually they find a balance. Through communication, maybe a few missteps, but overall though love, I think these two jewels figure it out.

#hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #edelgard von hresvelg #ferdibert #fire emblem three houses #indigo asks #text #been thinking about this none stop for two days #so I hope its clear enough #fe3h #spoilers #my meta

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yukiwrites · 3 years

Text

Kiran, Categorizing

Thank you for the support and patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This was so funny to write, I hope you like it!

Summary: Bored during a meeting, Kiran started to sort some of the heroes in a way that he had only done back in his own world, in social media... Now, Sharena, Alfonse and Anna seemed interested in the magical world of the... himbos.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

Kiran’s workload after he was summoned to Askr kept increasing exponentially as the war against various kingdoms dragged on. There were many Heroes to keep track of and many different powers coming to play, so he always had to be careful when suggesting a team or a strategy.

Of course, he couldn’t deny that sometimes he made team compositions mostly based on personal preference or how the heroes would interact with one another rather than how well they complemented each other’s strengths, but he never sent those out to dangerous missions, so he liked to keep that to himself.

Take the meeting going on at that moment, for example; he was shuffling through a list of buff-looking heroes to form a team to explore whatever had been going on inside the Illusory Dungeon. No one knew for certain when phantoms of heroes and compelling songs would start appearing and playing there, but whenever lights shone inside it, Kiran formed one of those teams based on his own preferences just to hear the reports once they came back.

Well, the meeting wasn’t solely for this situation as Anna, Alfonse and Sharena were sitting on the round table around Kiran while talking strategies about the many other skirmishes happening in the country. There were some heroes who still had to go to the Training Tower, so the smallest pile of papers by Kiran’s left was a list of those; there were also heroes raring to go explore the Aether Islands, so the second smallest pile was full of requests from them; there had also been reports about suspicious movements in the woods nearby, so some nimble heroes were needed…

There was a lot to do, so Kiran was taking his time to at least form a team he found funny instead of drowning in the weight of his responsibilities like it usually happened to Alfonse. Kiran looked up from the paper in front of him to the sick-looking prince, raising an eyebrow at how intently he stared at a report.

“Alfonse, maybe you should take a break. You’re looking whiter than your own clothes.” Kiran’s hoarse voice from talking all morning made the prince blink and shake his head.

“I couldn’t possibly take a break at an important time such as this-”

“C’mon, Alfonse, Kiran’s right.” Sharena patted her brother’s shoulder, her face still full of energy as though she wasn’t tired at all from sitting at that table for hours. “Let’s go stretch our legs! I’ll come with you.”

Once again Alfonse shook his head. “No. As I said, I can’t cut the meeting short just for this.” He shifted his tired gaze from his pouty sister to the Summoner, “were you almost finished with the team for the Illusory Dungeon, Kiran?”

“Hm? Ah, yeah. I wanted a team of himbos, so I figured Raphael, Arden, Draug and maybe Shiro…? I was torn between him and Chrom, but perhaps Chrom isn’t really one…” Kiran mumbled the later half of the sentence, frowning slightly at the personal files of Chrom and Shiro as though he could find the answer there if only he stared long enough.

Anna raised her finger to ask, but then gave up on it, shaking her head. Sharena didn’t, though.

“Eh? What’s a ‘himbo’, Kiran? Is it something you use to sort the heroes? Or does it have to do with how strong they are?” The princess’ eyes shone, while her brother beside her looked confused yet intrigued.

Snorting, Kiran had to avert his eyes for a moment, wondering how he could have said that out loud. An internet lingo he had used back when he still had social media (though still pretty accurate to categorize people) now came up in this kind of situation. Kiran cleared his throat, fighting back a smirk.

“Well, yeah, it can be considered something to sort them based on how strong they look. A man is only a himbo if he has three characteristics: He has to be buff, kind, -- to everyone, though especially to women -- and stupid. If he’s missing even one of these, he can’t be considered a himbo.”

“Wha-” Anna frowned, placing one hand over her mouth to hide a snort.

Alfonse and Sharena, however, were appalled.

“S-stupid? That’s kind of mean to say about the heroes, though?” Sharena deflated like a sad balloon, sitting back after getting up in excitement about a new word.

“Truly, I- I never expected you to talk about them like this, Kiran.” Alfonse looked more offended than anything, as though all of the built-up trust they had shared had shattered.

Kiran pressed his lips into a thin line, almost unable to stop himself from laughing out loud. “No, I mean it in the best way possible. Look here,” he picked up Raphael’s file, which had a picture of him smiling wide and warmly, “this is the peak example of a himbo. He’s not book-smart nor does he have street-smarts, but his heart? It's as wide as the ocean. He’s kind, but without any ulterior motive, and he’s really, really big and buff.”

Sharena’s jaw dropped in shock, processing the information as Alfonse twitched his eyebrows. “But why refer to him as ‘stupid’...? That’s rather insulting.”

Kiran shrugged. “Well, it’s just the fastest way to call someone who doesn’t have much -- if any -- smarts in them, isn’t it? Look at this one here.” He pulled a file from a nearby pile, lifting it for them to see. “Tibarn here, he’s buff and kind, but he has smarts. You can see many thoughts going inside his head,” different from the zero braincells Raphael seems to have, Kiran thought to himself as he swallowed a snort. “So he’s not a himbo, but a hunk.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, “Anna managed to say after properly managing not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “So a himbo has those three characteristics, a hunk is a muscular and kind man. So what of the other combination? If they’re kind and… lacking in smarts?” She asked, barely containing a smirk from sprouting, which mirrored Kiran’s.

“Well, that’s just a decent man, I suppose.” He coughed out, trying to mask a snort as Anna threw her head back in laughter, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Pfft-aahaha! This is new!” She laughed loudly, taking shaky breaths to stop herself from crying as she dried her eyes with one hand. “So, since when have you been ranking the heroes like this?”

Catching her laughter, Kiran shook in amusement for a bit before glancing at the confused royals. “Since before I was summoned here, I suppose. It’s a ‘sorting technique’ used back in my world.”

Sharena’s eyes sparkled once again. “Well, if we can not say that they’re stupid, then I think it’s a good sorting! They have a big heart and big bodies, right? It doesn’t matter that they don’t understand the world around them, just that they’re ready to accept everything at face value!” The princess looked up as though she had made the discovery of the century, while Alfonse beside her crossed his arms to think.

If it was something from another world, Kiran’s world especifically, it was worth giving it a try, was it not? Perhaps if they applied themselves, they’d be able to sort the heroes more efficiently and cut back the time for these meetings so they could focus their energy elsewhere…

“As I was saying, I was in doubt about Chrom because, look: he’s buff enough, though not as big as, say, Draug; he scores high in kindness; but he has SOME smarts… Although he’s impulsive, it’s not like his brain is empty like- ahem, it’s not like his heart is as big as Raphael’s or Shiro’s.”

Not hearing the insulting part about the heroes’ smarts, Sharena nodded in compliance, thinking deeply. “Hmmm, I don’t think I can help in this right away. Can you give us more examples?”

“Sure, look here,” Kiran turned the pile by his left to Sharena. “Hinata, he’s a jock. He’s buff enough, but he’s not really kind and he’s kinda brusque, right?” Kiran held back the ‘he lacks brain cells’ part, saying it only with his eyes to Anna, the only one who truly understood him in all of this. “On the other hand, Stahl… is just a decent guy. He’s kind and although he has some smarts, he’s not buff, so he doesn’t fall into this category.”

“Hmmm, so do you think Owain could be one? He’s stup- ah, lacks smarts enough and he’s a good guy. But he- ah, yeah… perhaps not.” Anna started, but then stopped herself after comparing Raphael’s muscles to Owain’s. “Isn’t this kind of sorting way too specific? I don’t think many heroes fall under the ‘himbo’ category.”

Kiran nodded solemnly, as though they were talking about some important strategy. “Indeed. It’s very hard to find a true himbo, as they’re extremely rare. Hence why I was having trouble with the Illusory Dungeon team.”

“I see… It sounds really important.” Sharena nodded, basically accepting that this was something that went way over her head and tried to catch up in her own way. Alfonse still had mixed feelings about it, but the more seriously Kiran and Anna talked about it, the more he felt like he was in the wrong for finding something iffy about the sorting method in the first place.

“For example, Linus… if only he was a bit kinder, he would be another prime example of a himbo.” Kiran said over Sharena’s mumbling, sighing wistfully. “Lex would also be a good one, but he’s too smart to be a himbo.”

“Oh, I know! What about Keaton? He seems perfect!” Sharena raised her voice as her eyes glanced at one of the lists around Kiran.

The Summoner and Anna exchanged glances. “Not enough muscle.”

“Ah…” Sharena sat back with a pout. “This is really hard…”

“Yeah…” Kiran scratched his temple in thought.

In the following silence, only Alfonse’s voice could be heard after a few minutes. “... Isn’t Lord Hector one, though? From those examples…”

Kiran widened his eyes, jumping out of his seat with a bang. “That’s it! Alfonse, you’re a genius!” He praised, quickly shifting through the files to find Hector’s. “Do you have any more suggestions?”

Taken aback by the sudden cheer, Alfonse gulped. “Um, I thought about Helbindi, especially according to what Princess Yglr told us about him…”

“Hmm… A rare tsundere himbo, huh… perhaps?” Kiran took one hand to his chin in thought, mumbling something under his breath. “Alfonse, you’re on the right track! C’mon, keep the ideas coming!”

“Brother, you’re no fun, you picked it up so quickly! Tell me more!” Sharena protested, manhandling Alfonse into fessing up how he understood Kiran’s vague explanations so well.

Anna snorted under both hands as her shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, wondering how the hell they had ended up talking about that in the middle of a meeting.

Regardless, the topic was too much fun to be ditched now that the four of them were eagerly exchanging suggestions and adding more himbos to the pile, so no one noticed that the important meeting they were having was now a himbo-selection tournament.

Perhaps after night fell, they would come back to their senses, but for now, the Commander, the two royals and the Summoner threw heated debate against one another regarding the amount of intelligence this or that hero possessed.

#fire emblem heroes #feh #anna fire emblem #alfonse fire emblem #sharena fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions #kiran fire emblem

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witharsenicsauce · 3 years

Text

Chosen Stories From The War #43: A Secret Place to Pray

The ice on the ground created a blanket of glass that broke and splintered as they stepped over it. Parysatis led the way, sure-footed after years of hiking these treacherous trails. Gur-Rai followed, almost as confident but with the dexterity of a child taking their first steps. He watched the girl in front of him with silent curiosity as she raised her arm and let Tyche land.

“How much hunting do you get done with her?” Gur-Rai finally broke the silence. “Tyche’s a sweet old girl, but it seems like a bow or a rifle would be faster.”

“I catch as much as Aisha can in a day.” Parysatis said without looking back at him. “And that is what got me my seat at the left hand of the Khatun. She saw that I have many skills, not just good aim.”

“What exactly is your job for her?” Gur-Rai’s arms shot out as he slid backward on icy ground, and he barely managed to steady himself.

“I am her eyes across the steppe.” Parysatis said softly. “The Khatun cannot be in all places at once. But with Tyche’s wings, I can see the edges of our kingdom and the crevices under rocks.”

“She’s got good eyes.” Gur-Rai noted.

“As she should. I see through those eyes” Parysatis stopped and turned to him. “We shall start simply. You need to learn how to call your eagle.”

“Can I text instead?” Gur-Rai chuckled at his own joke.

Parysatis did not laugh with him. “Your eagle is not a machine, you can’t just plug a code into it and make it obey. You need to learn to speak to it in ways it understands the way it respects.” She pointed down into the ravine beside them. “Go down there about 200 yards, and face me.”

Gur-Rai silently complied, looking back at Parysatis only once. She was watching him closely, and he saw the purple glow of her eyes in the low morning light. She was beautiful, but in a reserved kind of way. The type of girl to admire from afar, to wonder about briefly, and then to never to see again.

He finally stopped where she told him and turned to face her. She held out her other arm, and he mimicked her with his. From far away, he saw her stroke her eagle’s head softly, and then the glow of her eyes disappeared as she closed them.

Tyche leapt off Parysatis’ arm and came swooping down the ravine, her caw echoing in the high hills only once. Gur-Rai flinched a bit as she came close, but forced his arm to stay steady enough for her to land.

And land she did, digging her claws into his sleeve, and he was happy he’d worn his armor for this. She ruffled her feathers and adjusted herself, and he saw the eagle’s eyes were glowing purple, like Parysatis’ had been.

Gur-Rai blinked, then reached out and gently patted the eagle on the head. “Good girl.” He said softly.

The glow faded from Tyche’s eyes, and he looked back up the hill to where Parysatis stood, her white hair blowing in the brisk wind. She held out her arm and made a noise like the coo of a pigeon and the screech of a fox all at once, and Tyche leapt from Gur-Rai’s arm and soared back up to her mistress.

He lowered his arm slightly, and saw that she had not closed her eyes this time. Tyche’s dark eyes remained so as Parysatis looked out towards where Gur-Rai stood, as though she were waiting for him.

He took a deep breath, thankful his siblings weren’t watching this, and pursed his lips, replicating the coo-screech he heard Parysatis make. For a moment, the eagle did nothing, so he tried again, and again, and again.

Tyche leapt from Parysatis’ arm again, and this time Gur-Rai knew to brace himself. He caught Tyche, letting her stabilize herself in his grasp, and when she finally did, he patted her head.

“There’s a good girl.” He said as he looked back up to Parysatis. She nodded to him slowly, gesturing for him to come back up the hill.

Senuna shifted her weight onto her left foot and crossed her arms, looking up at Drakaina as the Khatun stared into her glass of vodka.

“Have you been pleased with what you see?” Drakaina asked. “My ancestor built this city, and his son, Ögedei Khan, fortified its walls. It has stood against all odds, even those from off-world

Senuna bobbed her head. “It’s impressive what you’ve done here, I’ll admit that.”

That made Drakaina look up, curiosity in her eyes. “Impressive…is that all?”

“I haven’t seen more than the city.” Senuna said. “And you told me you have much more territory than that.”

“The rest of it lies in villages and Elerium mines.” Drakaina added quickly. “They are relatively scattered, due to their natural geographic location.”

“Fair enough.” Senuna still refused to sit, instead shifting back onto her right foot and putting a hand on her hip. “But I assume this means they get your protection, such as it were?”

“Of course.” Drakaina stood up, tipping her glass back and draining the remainder of it. “Until their children can be trained to fight for us, we send our own to protect them. They repay us by sending their warriors when they are grown, who then fight to defend us.”

Senuna bit her lip. “Do those kids get a choice?”

“They all choose to serve us.” Drakaina said curtly. “I give them food, shelter and protection. In return, they give me their sword arms.”

“And I thought I was a shitty boss~” Senuna chuckled.

Drakaina glared at Senuna. “I care for each of my warriors as a mother cares for her children. Do not accuse me of being callous.”

“I’m a mother too…” Senuna hesitated before she uttered the last word. “...Well in any case, far be it from me to tell you how to do your job. But all my soldiers go onto the field having chosen to carry a gun.”

“Is that why you sought help?” Drakaina retorted.

“You called me here, remember?” Senuna giggled. “I sought their help because, the Reapers, Skirmishers, Templars, and us? We have a common goal.”

Drakaina moved back up to where her throne stood, but didn’t lower herself, instead opting to just stand in front of it. “I am not here to debate ideologies with you. The last raid was very successful, but the rewards were minuscule compared to what we require.”

“Okay.” Senuna raised a brow. “And that is what, exactly?”

“There is a small outpost just south of Bürd, where we believe ADVENT is looking to build yet another city center. The people there have set up a small village and are receiving supplies. They are guarded by hybrids in armor.”

“Oh how scary!” Senuna chuckled. “This almost sounds like one of our havens, and ADVENT attacks those all the time. This should be easy.”

“Should be.” Drakaina said. “It never is. I would like to borrow two of your Chosen this time.”

“I knew you’d take a liking to them.” Senuna giggled. “Konnie, again?”

“Her and her brother, the sniper. He can set up with my archers and offer range support.” Drakaina hesitated. “Commander, how much do you know about her?”

“Who? Kon-Mai?” She sighed. “I didn’t have access to her files when I was plugged in, if that’s what you’re asking. ADVENT had me thinking I was still back home, fighting aliens and taking numbers.”

Drakaina sat down and leaned against the armrest of her throne. One of the skulls shifted under the pressure. “I thought you were used to manage all of ADVENT’s network.”

“I was.” Senuna bobbed her head. “But it’s…like a dream. Someone could call a file up from my brain, and in my sleep I could interpret that information as something completely different.”

“So you knew nothing about the Chosen?”

“I didn’t say that.” Senuna stopped, then looked away. “I heard her speak to me a couple times, but I interpreted her voice as something else. Someone else. They were always connected to someone I knew once. Dhar-Mon…well. His voice is pretty distinct. But Konnie, not entirely sure what I saw for her.” Senuna admitted. “The first time I really saw her was when she carried away Mox to one of ADVENT’s torture facilities.”

“So they do still participate in abductions.” Drakaina nodded. “That is valuable information.”

“Have you lost many to that method?” Senuna asked.

“No.” Drakaina picked up her empty glass and held it up, the light refracting through broken crystals. “…Only one.”

“Mai!”

At first, Kon-Mai didn’t even realize someone was calling her, until she heard footsteps directly behind her. She turned, and then slowed her brisk trek, allowing Aisha to catch up to her.

“Mai?” She raised a hairless brow.

“Yes, sorry. It…slipped out.” Aisha bowed. “Kon-Mai. I wanted to check on you; are you doing alright after that lesson?”

“I am fine.” Kon-Mai said curtly, turning away.

“You seemed really distracted after that first demonstration.” Aisha continued.

“Perhaps I was. But it should not concern you.” Kon-Mai scoffed. “I simply need a place to rest. Clear my head.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Aisha chuckled. “I know a place actually. Come on.”

Kon-Mai watched Aisha take up a long stride in front of her, leading her westward toward where the sun was setting. She hesitated, but then the woman turned back and waved her to follow. In the low light, the gentle embroidery along her hijab glowed a soft blue.

Kon-Mai followed her silently, the smaller woman keeping up a fast pace that Kon-Mai kept time with easily. Once outside of the city, she looked back once toward the blue glow, and the barren land around it.

“Do you not farm here?” Kon-Mai asked. “The only vegetation I see is the animal feed…”

Aisha shook her head. “As much as I would like to--I much prefer vegetables to meat, if I’m honest with you--it seems edible plants don’t take well to this soil anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“I heard they used to.” Aisha elaborated. “When my parents were fleeing ADVENT they briefly settled down around here, near Khorgo, and there was some arable land there.” She hummed a bit. “Sometimes I think about going back there and seeing if anything is left but…I have my new family here. As much as I want to look back.”

Kon-Mai remained silent, musing on this for a moment. “If you did go back…” She finally said. “What would you hope to find?”

Aisha didn’t answer her, and Kon-Mai abandoned the question when she looked around at the line of trees they suddenly stepped into. Larch trees with thick, needled branches reached out, covering the pale sky in a curtain of green.

“What is this place?”

“I come here to pray.” Aisha said. “The other warriors, they don’t mean to be rude, but they don’t really understand why I still practice. I come here so they won’t hound me for answers when all I want is a spiritual connection.”

“I can appreciate that.” Kon-Mai chuckled. “I often find my brothers in particular like to bother me when I am trying to meditate.”

Aisha chuckled. “I’m curious, your eldest brother seemed like he was at least interested in religion, but what exactly does ADVENT practice?”

“Practice…is a strong word. I suppose the religion of ADVENT centered around the Elders, and thus any customs were woven into their government.”

“But what else?” Aisha kept prying. “What do they teach you about how the universe works? Where do you think people go when they die?”

Kon-Mai thought for a moment, trying to recall old teachings from almost a decade ago. “They never told us.”

“Never told you?”

“No. They never taught us of an afterlife. They only said there was the void, and if we failed them, they would throw us into nonexistence.”

Aisha stopped walking briefly at that, faltering in her steps as she looked up in surprise. “Oh…like Buddhism? Was there rebirth?”

Kon-Mai shook her head. “If there was, it was not attainable for us.”

“So you…would just die?” Aisha blinked. “That’s…terrifying. I’m sorry.”

“The idea of nonexistence never troubled me until I was staring it in the face.” Kon-Mai retorted. “And even then I would have chosen that over what my parents would do to me for failure.”

“And what would they do?” Aisha kept prying.

Kon-Mai’s silence served as an answer, and the two came to a silent stop in a small clearing, where the trees formed a small circle.

Aisha settled down on her knees, facing Southwest, and Kon-Mai settled into her meditation pose beside her. Instead of closing her eyes, though, she watched Aisha instead, observing as she bowed, touching her head to the ground. Something tugged at the strings of her heart as she witnessed it, and soon she too closed her eyes.

They held that silent vigil until the sunlight fully faded, and the dim glow of orange clouds was the only light remaining. Surprisingly, it was Kon-Mai who broke the silence. As she heard Aisha get back to her feet, she asked “How does the Khatun feel about you practicing still?”

“The Khatun doesn’t mind.” Aisha shrugged. “Generally all her warriors are allowed to practice any religion they want. Many adopt Shamanic beliefs because, well, that’s the majority and it’s just easier.”

Kon-Mai followed her demonstration and stood. “And you did not adopt them as well?”

“That’s a long story, but no, I kept my own faith.” Aisha chuckled. “When I first came to Karakorum, I had a really rough time assimilating. It may sound counterintuitive but keeping to the traditions I was raised with helped me during that time.”

“This was after your parents…” Kon-Mai trailed off.

“Yes. I don’t remember the event really well. My clearest memory is after it was all over, and I was on a black horse, and Monkh…” Aisha broke off again, her voice shaking as she said “M-Monkh was carrying me.”

“Monkh?” Kon-Mai asked, suddenly blinking as though something was in her eye. Her temple stung for just a moment, and a shiver went up her back, all in such quick succession she herself hardly noticed it. “Who is Monkh?”

Aisha took a few steps, and then leaned back against one of the trees so she faced Kon-Mai. “She was the Jinong before me.” She said. “I might have mentioned we were close but…it was more than that.”

“More in what way?”

“She was almost grown up when they found me, and I was really young, extremely young. I had such a hard time adjusting to Karakorum, new people and language and food and it was all so overwhelming, I threw fits, I lashed out, and nobody would take me in, not even those who knew me.” She crossed her arms over herself. “Nobody but Monkh.”

“She adopted you?”

“She was more like a big sister than a mom.” Aisha admitted. “But…yes. She took care of me. She encouraged me to keep praying because praying helped calm me. She never forced me to, she wasn’t Muslim herself but…she always said it was important to remember the roots, especially those that gave me nourishment. She arranged for my meals to be caught, she sewed all my clothes and beaded my jewelry with her own two hands, and she taught me riding and archery and sword fighting. Nobody else believed in me. Monkh…Monkh believed in me.”

Kon-Mai swallowed, and realized she was holding back tears. “Her loss must have been very hard.”

Aisha nodded. “I regret so much from my childhood, but I most regret how much I took her for granted. I didn’t realize how precious life was until…” Aisha bit her lip, and when she spoke again, her voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

Kon-Mai took a step toward the young woman, holding out a hand but hesitating to touch her. “I…I know how it feels to lose someone you loved, without ever being able to tell them goodbye, or how much they meant to you. It is a pain that sent me spiraling, I cannot imagine experiencing it as a child.”

Aisha stepped forward and grasped Kon-Mai’s hand, squeezing it. “Thank you…” Tears were streaming down her face now. “I just wish I could have thanked her.”

“Perhaps you still can.” Kon-Mai said. “If I have earned another chance, perhaps you will too.”

Aisha shook her head. “It’s a silly thing to hope for. And yet, I still do.”

The inside of the mine was not dark, but lit up in a rainbow of soft, glowing light. Dhar-Mon closed his eyes and felt the familiar hum of Elerium crystal radiating off his skin. Like a babe being swaddled, he felt comfort in this early memory.

Then he opened his eyes and composed himself, looking around at the miners around him. Most only payed him a few glances before squaring up their shoulders and returning to their work, running wheelbarrows full of sediment out and in and dumping them onto an assembly line, where more workers, smudged in dirt, sifted through the sediment and broke open geodes to get at the crystals inside.

He approached one of the miners, and they turned and gasped, startling backward and scrambling away, yelling something in Mongolian or…maybe Kazakh? He could not tell. Dhar-Mon only raised his hands in response, trying to demonstrate he was not there to hurt them.

Luckily, one of the others, an old man who looked as though he had seen years in the mine, seemed to understand, and stepped forward. Dhar-Mon slowly lowered his hands, and bowed low to the person who was by all means his elder.

The old man smiled a toothless grin. “Sain uu, khüü mini!” The man chuckled, and upon realizing that Dhar-Mon didn’t understand him, broke into a sympathetic laugh. Dhar-Mon smiled awkwardly, looking around at the other miners that were still watching his hesitantly.

The old man beckoned Dhar-Mon over to the assembly line, where the others continued to sift through the silt and dirt, removing the Elerium from its earthen shell. He watched in curiosity as it was then sent down the line to be washed and sprayed, the dirt splashing over a young woman’s face as she cleaned the glass-like rock.

“This is difficult work.” Dhar-Mon said. “I sincerely hope the Khatun rewards you well.”

The man either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand him as he led Dhar-Mon farther along down the line, where the clean Elerium was taken into mortars and pestles and ground into shining, powdery dust. Each time the pestle struck the glowing rock, sparks would bounce away, and Dhar-Mon would flinch.

The glowing dust, pulsating with irradiated energy, traveled along the conveyor line to the end, where two others began re-mixing it with a soft, white powder, almost resembling dry clay. Their careful hands mixed the sparkling Elerium with this clay, before it was shoved off the table into a vat of liquid that began to boil. Dhar-Mon was at first nervous about this unknown reaction, until he saw the fire burning under the vat.

“They are stabilizing the Elerium. To keep it from degrading.” He rubbed his chin. “Fascinating. It seems to dampen the raw energy available but…” It made sense, if they were using it in things like jewelry, they didn’t really need the Elerium to pack that much of a punch.

The old man patted Dhar-Mon on the arm, chuckling as he returned to his post, leaving Dhar-Mon to either stay or go. The Hieromonk wandered around the vat for a few moments, watching as the water boiled away, leaving a paste of glowing blue rock that settled heavily in the bottom of the cauldron. The mix was not perfect, but he figured it would be further distilled and refined and sure enough, a thin looking lad came over, dragging a wheelbarrow and stopping only to reach in and scoop the rock-paste into the wheelbarrow.

Dhar-Mon raised a brow as he saw that the boy, who looked no older than a teenager, was not wearing cloves around this hot metal. And with that exhausted look in his eyes, that was absolutely asking for trouble. Dhar-Mon reached out, and the boy startled a bit, but looked up at Dhar-Mon almost like he was in a trance. Dhar-Mon did not have to pull hard to get the spade away from him, and he rolled up his sleeves and began doing the boy’s assigned work for him.

“I have many more scars than you.” Dhar-Mon said. “And I would like that to remain the truth.”

He wasn’t sure that the boy understood him, but he did begin tearing up. Once the wheelbarrow was full, Dhar-Mon took hold of it himself and pushed it along, the boy leading him to where it needed to go.

They approached the yawning mouth of the mine, and inside he heard pickaxes ringing against stone, and felt the pulsing radiation from the barely exposed rock. He stopped for a moment, gazing down into the black mouth that continued on seemingly forever…

A scream echoed from down the tunnel, and for a moment all the miners stopped, but when Dhar-Mon dropped the wheelbarrow and began to run toward the noise, the boy stopped him, crying out in Mongolian and shaking his head quickly.

“Someone could be hurt!” Dhar-Mon insisted. “I must help them!”

“No!” Was all the boy said, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “No. No. No.”

Pratal Mox stared out at the sun setting over the icy mountains and yellow grass, where the horses stood and picked out what little bits of vegetation they could pull from the ground, and he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You aren’t going to be able to sleep until you face this.” His wife said, moving her hand from his shoulder down around his waist.

“I am naively hoping it will not need facing.” He said. “Vox Prima…I mean. Kon-Mai has not shown much interest in her past, and I am hoping we can leave this place before it shows interest in her.”

“Even so. She has a right to know. And you have the power to tell her.” Elena moved to stand beside him. “Look at how much good it’s done Gur-Rai to have old friends and new friends again.”

“Gur-Rai is…” Mox twiddled his thumbs. “He is different. His memories were not completely overwritten by Camazotz, he remembers things the others don’t.”

“And maybe Kon-Mai remembers too.” Elena crossed her arms. “Or at the very least, I think someone in this camp does.”

Mox sighed. “That is what I fear. What if they tell her?”

“Tell her yourself.” She took his hand. “You’ve taken hold of your own fate time and time again, my love.”

“I know, and I’m tired.” Mox sighed. “It is not just my fate anymore. How do I tell Kon-Mai that I was the ferryman who led her to hell?”

Summary: The chapter begins with Gur-Rai and Parysatis going out to open field so Gur-Rai can train to become an eagle hunter. As it’s his first lesson, Parysatis starts him off by just teaching him how to land the eagle on his arm, which he does with some difficulty. Back at Karakorum, Drakaina is meeting with Senuna to talk about the next mission, and Senuna briefly chastises Drakaina on her leadership methods.

After the training, Aisha catches up with Kon-Mai and invites her to a secluded spot, where she likes to pray. She tells Kon-Mai that her devotion stems from her parental figure, Monkh, encouraging her to maintain that which connected her to her happiness. Aisha also clarifies that Monkh was the previous Jinong before her, and that one of her earliest memories is waking up in her arms.

Down in the Elerium mines, Dhar-Mon meets several of the miners, who are all diligently working on mining Elerium to be used recreationally and in warfare. One old man shows Dhar-Mon around, and he sees the process by which Elerium is stabilized. While helping a young boy bring the processed sludge in for refining, Dhar-Mon hears a scream from deeper in the mine.

In Karakorum, Pratal Mox reflects on how much he knows about Kon-Mai’s past. Elena encourages him to tell her, but he hesitates.

(Hello everyone, I know it’s been over a month and I’m so sorry I kept you all waiting. February just completely kicked my ass, starting with my cat passing away and ending with a slew of health problems that have left me pretty much out of commission until now. I’m not 100% better yet, but I am recovering and recovered enough to get this to you. I have NOT given up on the shark babies, and I’m still in this for the long haul!

Thanks to my buddies in the discord for helping me get my motivation!)

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom au #chosen stories

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the-shy-shrimp · 3 years

Note

Well, hello! I am one of your readers from the AO3 and I just wanted to say that I enjoy your lotr related works very much! And since you allow asking for commission, there is one thing I would love to see if you ever felt inspired and that is Elrond Peredhel being hurt in a fight.

Adding in the rest of the ask because this came to me in three parts:

It seems that since he is a healer in most stories it is quite rare for him to get physically hurt – which is understandable of course... But I would love to see that written by you, as you are quite good at portraying this amazing hurt/comfort stories.

The floor is all yours, but maybe it would be nice to see how his family would react to that? Or any Imladris inhabitants. But you know, it’s just an idea, no pressure. Thank you very much! And whether you decide to use this idea or not I hope we will meet in some lotr-related work. Have a nice day! :D (And sorry for sending three asks - I am not used to Tumblr :c)

So here you go! Sorry it took forever, but I made a bad decision (very, very bad) when scheduling an exam that my entire career relied on me passing, so I was pretty brain dead for the two weeks after I got this ask... But here it is! Enjoy!

...

Pain is the first thing that registers when Elrond wakes, pain and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from fighting for one’s life.

Strange, he can’t remember being in a fight, not recently. Yet here he lays, sprawled out on the floor of his study, exhausted and aching for no clear reason. Attempting to move proves to be unwise, bringing dizziness and nausea with each shift, but the alternative of lying prone until someone finds him seems even more unsavory.

He goes slowly, first turning onto his side as he tries to deduce what has happened. His face and his jaw hurt the most by far, though the rest of his body is not far behind. But his jaw had been tightly clenched for several days now, likely the result of stressing over his third child’s imminent arrival, and so he finds it difficult to relate that symptom with the rest of what he feels. His hands wander over his body in a search for injuries. While he does not discover anything new, he does find his shoulder to be red and hot, the small puncture wound he sustained in a skirmish over a week ago now open and weeping. He groans internally at the finding.

It should have healed long before now, and that knowledge fills his gut with dread. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

The simple act of using the corner of his desk to pull himself upright leaves him shaking, and the idea of forcing himself to walk down the hallway to find Erestor is daunting to say the least. But it must be done. He presses onward, putting one foot in front of the other, desperately clutching whatever furniture seems sturdy enough to lend some support as he shuffles toward the door. Once out in the corridor there would be little to hold onto, unfortunately, but it was only a few yards between the doors to each of their workspaces. He would have to manage.

After fumbling with the doorknob for a moment, he breathes a sigh of relief upon finding the hallway to be entirely empty. The last thing he needs to be gawked at in his present state.

His movements are slow, but determined, as he makes his way along the wall, eventually coming to a stop in front of Erestor’s door. He attempts to knock before entering, but the sound is weak and piteous, barely heard over the sound of his own breathing. He has better luck with the doorknob this time around, and with minimal struggling, he tentatively steps into his friend’s space.

“Elrond? Is something the matter? You don’t look well.”

Erestor is at his desk, several papers in his hands and concern written across his face. He seems to be debating between getting up to rush over, and letting Elrond speak first.

The Peredhel swallows thickly, then gives an almost imperceptible nod, taking one, then two steps beyond the doorway. When he opens his mouth to speak, however, the ache that had thus far been sitting quietly in his jaw crescendos into a roar that races down his neck and back and into each of his limbs as pain engulfs his entire body.

A strangled cry is the only sound he makes, and Erestor’s cursing is the last thing he hears before the world goes dark.

“You really are the worst, you know.”

Erestor’s chiding is soft, lacking its usual barbed timbre, and is accompanied by the warm weight of a thick blanket settling over his body. The Peredhel gives him only a quiet sigh in return, blinking until the image of his friend comes into focus. He is not sprawled across the floor of Erestor’s office, as he halfway expected to be, but is instead tucked into a cot in the middle of an unfortunately familiar room. He groans, feeling even worse now than he did before, every muscle in his body wound tight as a bowstring, unable to relax no matter how much he ached.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before Elrond decides that he does not like being the one in the sickbed, and much prefers to stay within his role as a healer.

“Why didn’t you have the wound looked at when you returned? If one of your sons had pulled the same stunt you would have had their head on a platter.”

He can see the poorly veiled concern in Erestor’s expression, creeping through every time Elrond fails to suppress the violent shivers that come in waves almost too intense to bear.

“T-T-T’was only an, an, arrow…”

His voice is weaker, shakier than he would like it to be, stuttering as he tries to keep the shuddering at bay. His advisor only scowls down at him, looking more hurt than angry.

“Yes, only an arrow with a rusted head. If you were fully elven you might have been able to ignore such a detail, but you aren’t, Elrond! Now the poison is already in your blood, and it might just kill you. Andûnél says that it probably won’t, but there is still a chance.”

“I’m s-sure I’ll, I’ll be f-f-fine.”

Erestor leaps to his feet at that, sending the stool he had previously occupied flying back to clatter against the floor.

“Fine? You think this is fine? You cannot take risks with your life like this! What if you don’t make it, hm? Everyone in this valley depends on you, son of Eärendil. Your family depends on you. What if this is what does it? Would you leave your children to grow up fatherless, leave your people leaderless? You are all we have left, Elrond. They don’t have a high king to follow anymore, no one is going to step in and take care of things if you perish.”

He turns on his heel, disgust written on his face as he slams the door shut behind him.

Silence descends on the tiny room, and Elrond finds himself whimpering as the next wave of shivering hits him full force. He knows he isn’t alone, not truly. Someone will be around to check on him eventually. But for the moment he cannot help but feel abandoned. He wants Erestor to come back, but he will need time to sulk. He wants Celebrían, but he knows she won’t be back in Imladris for another week. Perhaps shamefully, he finds he wants Maglor most of all.

Maglor who had done his best in spite of circumstance, who made sure their needs were provided for. Maglor who held him when the tears didn’t seem to have an end. Maglor who sat with him late in the night when sleep wouldn’t come because of nightmares or insomnia or the disturbances that had come when his foresight finally began to manifest. Maglor who was the closest thing to a father he had ever really had.

It wasn’t until Andûnél knocked and entered that he realized there were tears in his eyes.

“Now, now, none of that.”

She sighs softly and dabs at the wet spots on his cheeks before anything else. He is grateful for the way her touches are nothing short of professional, devoid of the almost motherly tenderness they held when he and Elros were just young things being brought to her with scraped knees and sprains and broken bones. He already feels small and broken enough without being coddled.

Was it because Erestor had yelled at him? Probably. Being reminded of everything, everyone, that relied on him had left him feeling grossly inadequate. There was no high king. No one was around to supervise him and yank him out of his stupidity anymore. Ereinion couldn’t come to his rescue. Galadriel might, but not because she actually cared for him. She would come out of responsibility, and likely regret allowing her daughter to marry him as a result. Just a stupid, half-blooded fool who managed to survive long enough to reproduce in spite of his own idiocy—

“Elrond? Look at me, Elrond.”

He hiccups twice while trying to blink away the tears, and it takes several more minutes of dabbing at his eyes before he can actually see her face as more than just a wet blur.

“That’s better. Now, are you weeping because you are in pain, or because you are upset?”

“Pain.”

The single syllable is rasped out, barely louder than a whisper. The look in her eyes tells him that she knows he is lying, or at least telling only half the truth. Maybe the pain was a part of it, but Andûnél clearly knew it was just as likely a combination of the two.

“Alright. I can do something about that, at least.”

She leaves his line of sight immediately. If his neck didn’t ache so badly he might have tried to watch her, but he could barely move at all with how tense he was. He settles for staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly. At least he could hear her moving about the room, and so he knew she hadn’t left him. Not like Erestor had.

Another whine escapes him at the thought.

“Hold on, I’m coming.”

He doesn’t get the chance to feel any more sorry for himself before she pries his lips apart and sticks a dropper full of bitter medicine in his mouth. It tastes foul, as all her tinctures do, but it works quickly, dulling the ache in a matter of only a few tense minutes, and for that he is grateful.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Elrond sighs, relaxing against the bed beneath him as the pain is driven back for the moment. He hadn’t noticed just how much the tension in his body was bothering him a moment ago, but with it now under control, its absence leaves him feeling weak and jittery.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do outside of managing the pain that comes with the muscle spasms.”

Andûnél’s voice feels far away, even if vaguely registers that she now sits beside him in the stool Erestor had previously discarded. She smiles down at him, looking tired above all else.

“There isn’t an antidote or any effective treatment for it. You’ll just have to wait it out until your body rids itself of the toxin.”

The idea sits poorly with him, although there isn’t anything he can do to change things, not now. The healer is quick to remind him, of course, that had he gotten the wound treated sooner, properly cleaned and bandaged as it should have been, he might have avoided this unpleasantness altogether. She says he ought to know better, and he knows she is right. But she takes his silence as exhaustion rather than the moping that it is, and mutters something about the two of them being the sole purpose someone came up with the adage that “healers make the worst patients” before tucking another blanket around him and getting up to leave.

“I will send Camaenor in to sit with you while I take care of some other things that need my attention. He will probably be so engrossed in whatever book he brings with him that you’ll hardly notice him, but at least he’ll be present if you need him.”

Elrond is asleep not long after Andûnél latches the door behind her, snatching up what sleep he can while he has the option. He’s seen this sickness before, in mortals wounded by pieces of old metal, and he knows that it is likely to get worse before it gets better.

When it does get worse, either Andûnél or her reedy apprentice are always present, ready and waiting with another draught for the pain and muscle spasms that make his limbs cramp and his back arch off the bed. The Peredhel is grateful that it is only the two of them who see him like this. Not that he doesn’t trust the discretion of the other healers, but he knows that Andûnél will not gossip, and Camaenor has been so absorbed in his studies that he is likely to follow his master’s trend.

The days all blend together, a cycle of sleeping until he is awoken by excruciating pain and downing more medicine until he can once again rest comfortably. More than once he wakes in the dead of night, due not to the constant muscle contractions, but instead because the apprentice perched nearby is struggling with his reading, stumbling over some new term or another and attempting to sound it out.

The first time this happens, it leaves Elrond confused and disoriented, wondering if the apprentice is trying to speak to him and his brain is simply failing to interpret the words. Eventually though, after hearing several similar sounding terms in a row, he realizes what is happening, and rasps out an answer.

“Parenchyma.”

Camaenor nearly jumps out of his skin when his charge suddenly speaks, but quickly recovers and nods his thanks before asking if he would like some water, or if he was in pain. Elrond decides then that the boy will make a good healer, someday, and resolves to help him study during his precious moments of wakefulness and clarity. It is the least he can do.

He loses track of how many days and nights he’s been bedridden, knowing only that it has been long enough for him to grow tired of it. The only break in routine comes when Erestor returns to his previous position, constructing a nest of bookwork at Elrond’s bedside to keep himself busy while he sits with him. He says nothing of the outburst that resulted in his several-days-long absence, but instead chatters on about all the things going on in the valley that he’s missed since this all started. Profit margins for new trade routes. Personal correspondences that need attention. Setbacks in planting a new section of the orchard.

His chief advisor says nothing of Celebrían’s whereabouts, and so he assumes that she has either not been informed of his current state or has chosen to remain with her parents until this has all blown over. Part of him hopes for the former. This pregnancy has already been hard enough for her, and it has only just begun. She doesn’t need the added stress.

It comes as a surprise, then, when the soft morning light brings him toward wakefulness and he is assailed not by the whole-body ache he has come to expect, but by the soft velvet of her lips on his. He sighs, thinking it must only be the remnants of some very pleasant dream, but the gentle brush of her fingertips over his eyelids tells him otherwise.

“Wake up, my love.”

A weak smile finds its way to his face, the first in days, as he slowly pries his eyes open. His silver queen is waiting for him, her soft expression framed by the wild platinum curls of her unbound hair. She kisses him again, more fiercely this time, and though his attempts at reciprocating are sloppy at best, it still fills his heart with joy.

They still cling to each other, even after Celebrían finally stops nibbling at his lower lip and stretches out on the bed beside her husband. Neither of them says a word about what happened, about what Elrond has suffered through in the past week, or about the fact that they are celebrating their reunion here instead of the quiet intimacy of their bedroom. None of it matters, though, at least not to the Peredhel.

The presence of his beloved is like a balm on his aching soul, and in her strong arms he is reminded of what it feels like to belong and be loved. He sighs, burying his nose in the tangled nest of her hair and breathing in the scent that is undeniably hers, causing her to giggle and throw her arm over his bared chest and drag him closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

#fanfic #lord of the rings #requests are open #If you want one I'll make u one #just ask #I swear I'm not dead

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adzuki-ren · 3 years

Text

Wish Upon a Twilight

Title: Wish Upon a Twilight [Read on AO3] Series: Haikyuu!! Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou (mentioned), Kozume Kenma (mentioned) Pairing(s): BoKuroo, KenHina (mentioned) Rating: Teens (mild swearing) Word Count: 2320 Additional Notes: Fantasy AU, Romeo x Juliet AU, Soulmates, but not necessarily a Soulmates AU, it’s just being discussed, Pre-Relationship, kuroo has it bad, just to be clear bokuroo aren't Romeo and Juliet, but this is still about them, sorry for the big disappoint Summary: Kuroo had never really thought about soulmates, what they were, and what it meant to have one, least of all if he had one. There were more pressing matters, like trying to make it out of the war alive, or at the very least, protect his liege till his very last breath.

It’s only from a simple conversation with his partner and comrade, coming out of seemingly nowhere, that gets him to wonder…

For BoKuroo Week 2020 on Twitter (Day 2 Prompt: Soulmates)

A/N: Apologizing in advance because this short fic is probably gonna make sense to absolutely nobody, but in case you’re interested, you can check out my notes about this sloppily put-together AU. The TLDR of it is that Kenma and Hinata are Romeo and Juliet, and they are Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s lieges respectively. Kuroo and Kenma are still childhood friends.

I haven’t written in a while, and I’m still trying to figure out what my writing style is, so sorry if it’s a janky read.

Bokuto was quiet. Bokuto was never, if not almost always, ever this quiet. He had been for nearly the entire day now, ever since…

Kuroo should have been making good use of his time; Time: a luxury they most certainly could not afford, not when they were finally able to rally enough support to launch the rebellion against the Nekoma clan, not when they were constantly fleeing from enemy troops and always needed to be prepared to defend and strike within a moment’s notice, not when Shouyou had finally taken up the banner in the name of Karasuno, taken up the fight he never wanted, riding on nothing but his convictions and hopes of a swift end to the war with the fewest possible casualties.

What he should be doing at the moment was sharpen his blades, on any chance that they were confronted by a surprise assault. If he was to best serve his liege (his friend, his family), he must always have the proper means to do it; ensuring that his tools were at the utmost optimal condition was a crucial part of fulfilling that role.

So then, why was something so trivial, like his usually loud-mouthed comrade-in-arms suddenly becoming quieter than a still midsummer’s night, such a distraction?

Even if he hadn’t looked over at the corner of his eye, Kuroo knew that he and said companion were doing the same. Their sights had never left Kenma and Shouyou, not once since they had fled the capital together that stormy night and had seen many skirmishes since, had seen to it that they got out of them alive.

And that remained true even as they discovered this small, quiet town, far, far away from the capital, and the lush clearing lying just a little way up north. Only, instead of vassals, at that moment, they were more of mere onlookers, watching their charges wade through tall blades of grass dyed in the warm oranges of the softly setting sun.

It should have been fitting for the moment. Amidst all the fighting, they had finally found for themselves a moment of respite. He, Bokuto, and their allies could use this time to treat their wounds, brace themselves physically and mentally for the many battles that awaited. Kuroo’s eyes followed his liege and he wasn’t sure if the smile that formed in his mind had ever reached his lips. Kenma had taken his dragon steed along with him, and he hadn’t let go of Shouyou’s hand even once.

At least someone was finding peace in these times, Kuroo mused; because even when he was supposed to take this moment to rest, he found that couldn’t, at least not until he figured out what the hell was going on in his partner’s head.

And as if the timing couldn’t have been any better, any words he had prepared were abruptly cut off by one simple question.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

Bokuto blurted the words in one breath, even gasping out a little, all as if to push the words out of his mouth before his brain had the chance to take them back. Kuroo blinked twice. He was taken aback, to say the least, though whether it was from the question itself or the fact that this was what Bokuto mulled over, he didn’t know.

But it seemed that he wouldn’t even be given the chance to ruminate over it, because as quickly as Bokuto had asked, he threw in a hurried but mumbled, “Never mind, it’s a dumb question.”

Kuroo sighed. Shaking his head, he gently placed a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Hey, I haven’t even said anything yet. And no one’s saying anything about it being dumb.” He hoped Bokuto understood from his tone and comforting gesture that he was willing to listen. (In truth, he would always be ready to lend his ear to his most trusted partner if it meant putting him at ease and returning that radiant smile to his face.)

Bokuto deflated somewhat but decided he’d rather pout instead. It was this contrast of Bokuto as the strong, courageous warrior that he was in one second, only to transform into a big, sulking child the next that would never fail to amuse Kuroo. And it was moments like these, small and insignificant they may be, that he could feel in his chest that familiar tickle of mirth and affection that came from just being around Bokuto.

Seeing that Bokuto had lost some spirit in him and was less than likely to interrupt him again, Kuroo hummed, “I haven’t ever really given it any thought.” Whatever thoughts that began to take shape in his mind were quickly brushed aside as Kuroo’s eyes trailed back to Kenma and Shouyou. The pair had wandered further towards the cliff overlooking the sea and its crashing waves, but could still be made out within their line of sight. He could see that their hands were still linked, and then all at once, it struck him; when Bokuto had started to grow quiet, why he asked about soulmates—Kuroo might just have stumbled upon their roots.

He turned back to Bokuto to give him his long-awaited answer. “I don’t not believe they exist.”

One glance and Kuroo could tell he’d already lost him. He continued, “If being soulmates just means that there might be some otherworldly or spiritual force out there, someway or somehow connecting them, then yeah, I don’t think it’s that far-fetched. Okay, maybe not the otherworldly stuff. But,” he paused briefly, tapping his chin in mild contemplation, “Kenma and I have been together for before I can even remember. For all I know, he could’ve been my soulmate this entire time. Who said bonds couldn’t be formed between souls as close as family?”

Kuroo didn’t think his rambling would earn him much of a reaction, but he was able to catch the subtle widening of Bokuto’s eyes. And because he was such an open book, Kuroo could already tell from his furrowed brows that Bokuto had something he wanted to say, but it would be Kuroo who got to cut him off before getting to say his piece this time.

“But,” and he looked back to Bokuto, only to be met with those striking golds, bright and clear with a curious mixture of bewilderment and expectation, “That’s not what you wanted to hear, was it?”

Bokuto jerked back visibly, which meant he’d hit a bull’s-eye. Kuroo chuckled lightly, this time inviting Bokuto’s gaze to join his own with a simple nod towards the general direction of their lieges. More often than not, Bokuto was dumb as a sack of potatoes, but he decided to put a little faith in his dearest comrade, letting him know that they were on the same page with the knowing looks they’d just exchanged.

Bokuto let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in, with the dejected look of someone who had just admitted defeat. He was being so dramatic, as always. He finally spoke up again, though his voice was still quiet with uncertainty, “It’s just that when I look at them, I can’t help but think…”

(And Kuroo wanted so badly to make a quick jab at that (“You? Think?”), but thought better of it and refrained.)

Bokuto’s last words were left hanging, but it was fine. Even if neither of them finished those thoughts, they didn’t need to when it was the same, now just hanging heavily in the chilly air around them. Can a love like that truly exist?

The conversation was already strewn with gaps of acknowledged silence, and it wasn’t as though either was trying to fill them in. Their words flowed and ebbed with the push-and-pull of the exchange, and just as natural as the tides, some things were best left to the course of that flow. So the somewhat-confession that followed surprised Kuroo and didn’t all at once.

“I wonder if I’ll ever be lucky enough to find mine...” Bokuto uttered in a bit of a pensive daze, and then added a bit more optimistically, turning to Kuroo expectantly, “I’m a lucky guy, right? I mean, I escaped death more times than I can count!”

Peace and harmony and all things good and natural between them be damned, that still didn’t excuse these instances where he was asking for the life to be wrung from his neck for saying crap like this. The bastard had the gall to even laugh about it?

Instead, Kuroo did the less merciless thing and gave him a hard shove, intending for it to come off playfully, but still gaining some sort of petty satisfaction, snickering inwardly from seeing Bokuto catch himself from nearly toppling over.

“Psh, yeah, because I was there to save your ass, dumbass.”

And what does he do? He laughs it off. Again.

Kuroo’s hand was two centimeters away from making impact on his friend’s dense skull. Bokuto needed to learn how to look a little more ashamed, or at least pretend to look embarrassed.

He let out a loud sigh of exasperation but decided to backpedal to their focus, his tone taking a sudden solemn turn. “You and I both know full well that it wasn’t good fortune that brought them together.” Not with all the suffering they both had to endure, just to see each other again.

The last trickles of Bokuto’s laughter ran dry and he was quiet again, thankfully only for a fraction of the time he’d been all day. Bokuto faced him again, and any trace of annoyance Kuroo may have had left instantly melted.

For the short time they’ve spent together, Kuroo thought he knew Bokuto like someone he’d known his whole life, someone he’d fought with for what felt like ages. But it was times like these that he learned Bokuto was still so full of surprises.

“Lucky or not, I’m just really happy you’re here.”

His smile was just as blinding as the first time. Not their first meeting ending with the two shaking on a truce thrust upon them (one that should never have been possible); lips were drawn in taught lines, courteous on the surface, but thinly veiled the wariness, bordering distrust. (Though neither of them imagined they would eventually come to embrace that truce as an oath inherited from their lieges.)

No, it wasn’t until the first time, gathered by the crackling campfire to fight the night’s biting winds, Kuroo made a witty retort and Bokuto excitedly interjected with an idiotic remark of his own, sending them both into loud, raging fits of laughter with seemingly no end to obnoxious cackles, desperate gasps for air, and clutched stomachs. And when Kuroo caught his breath and looked back to Bokuto wiping away a single tear, the first thought his brain should have supplied him with was that he knew they’d get along just fine. It should have only been something that simple.

But all Kuroo could think about were the tiny crinkles around his eyes, specks of gold peeking through thin slits, cheeks dusted in the blush of dawn (and looked just as warm to touch), and those lips (oh, those lips) stretched out in the widest smile he had ever remembered seeing. And all were accompanied by light, airy jingles of laughter; as if everything else wasn’t already enough to send him spiraling into an existential crisis. He simply glowed.

Bathed in a pool of twilight like this now, Kuroo realized Bokuto had never stopped glowing.

“Thank you for always having my back.”

And with those honeyed words dripping with the sweetest sincerity, Kuroo’s entire heart leapt into his throat, choking him speechless. In terms of looks, he must have rivaled a gaping fish with the way he kept opening and shutting his mouth, too.

Kuroo returned his gaze towards the sun dipping into the horizon, now just glossing over the lovers in the distance. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled with as much indifference he could muster, not that it would do anything to hide the telltale signs of the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Bokuto just chuckled, the sound ringing pleasantly into the warm dusk air. It somehow managed to once again invade Kuroo’s thoughts, along with the very seed Bokuto had sown earlier. Unless he entertained it, it might just fester.

What about me? Would I ever…?

But as quickly as the thought formed, he quashed it. The more he dwelled on it, the more trifling it seemed.

(Because when Bokuto was standing right by his side like this, so close within his reach, he only had one selfish wish.)

The sun had just set, though whether it was a few minutes or hours ago, Kuroo had lost track. Time was lost on him, and sometime during it all, the space between them had vanished and Kuroo felt the weight of Bokuto’s head on his shoulder; or rather, he would have if his partner had been notably shorter. The sight was ridiculous, no doubt, with Bokuto’s head propped at an angle against the side of Kuroo’s.

They looked silly and he should feel silly, yet, all he could feel was the stir in his heart. The gesture was incredibly endearing, and Kuroo had given up trying to recall when he’d first yielded his heart to Bokuto. They most definitely looked ridiculous, but he could care less, so he laid his own head atop Bokuto’s. Standing in a familiar and comfortable silence, Kuroo really should have been more surprised by the less familiar, but equally comfortable, faint beating of hearts.

He longed for many, many more of these days to come. When all of this, all the fighting was over, maybe one day they could have that peaceful life.

And when he felt Bokuto’s hand quietly slip into his, he squeezed back gently and didn’t need to wish for anything else.

Thank you for reading! Again, sorry for the lack of context. I’m not super happy with how it came out but I just love Bokuroo so much and if it wasn’t sappy enough, then clearly I have failed in my mission. Please come scream Bokuroo, KenHina, or Haikyuu (anime-only tho) to me here or Twitter! The To the Top-shaped hole in my heart needs to be filled. ;-;

#BoKuroo #BokuKuro #KuroBoku #BoKuroo Week 2020 #BKKRWeek2020 #Jenny writes #Source #Haikyuu!!#Kuroo Tetsurou #Bokuto Koutarou

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aaluminiumas · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas Chopper

Time flows differently at sea, especially on the Grand Line: the weather in this part of the world never followed the ordinary calendar people had outside the ocean, so a blizzard in the middle of the summer wouldn’t surprise anyone. The climate depended on the island itself, and the inhabitants stuck to their specific routine maintained throughout the years: the holidays of the Fish-Men didn’t coincide with those of the Minks thus a lucky traveler may get a chance to become acquainted with rituals and traditions of all races.

The Straw Hat Pirates had already seen a lot. That’s why Nami yearning for Christmas she last celebrated a couple of years ago, made sure that the ship steered for another Winter Island and then ordered to throw a real party. Initially, only two latched on the idea: Sanji who agreed to do anything offered by Nami, and Robin, as usual peacefully calm, whose multiple hands immediately embarked to festoon Sunny. Luffy seemed to worried about one thing only – whether they were going to have meat; Zoro followed his Captain’s suit and asked about drinks – again, following Luffy’s suit, he got punched in the head and crawled away with gloomy grumbling. As a result of the powerful blow, the swordsman deigned to hang a garland over his mat on the deck. Sanji waspishly advised not to remove it in the future in order to define the borders of the improvised botanical garden and what is the vantage point to feast the eyes upon the ugliest plant.

While Brook, Usopp and Franky were trying to part the fighters to the rippling laughter of their Captain, Chopper took advantage of the common turmoil and ran over to Nami. He had first-hand knowledge of Christmas: as resident of a Winter Island, he often celebrated the holiday. Even when other reindeer atrociously lambasted him, he kept believing in miracles and never doubted Santa and his presents. However, the presents weren’t the main concern: absolutely unspoiled, he was waiting for some other guest – the red-nosed reindeer, Rudolph, who was claimed to have been mocked himself. Since childhood he swore he would stay up till morning to see Santa and his famous sleigh; he was sure he would talk to Rudolph in the animal language asking how he managed to take the lead, to turn his flaw into an assert and to overcome the sneers. Unfortunately, Chopper kept falling asleep – and woke up with bitter frustration written upon the snout. Later in the morning he disappeared in his lab and crammed another book borrowed from shrewd Kureha who unexpectedly failed to grasp what ate him away every winter so desperately.

Nami wasn’t paying attention to the skirmish between the cook and the swordsman: she continued decorating her tangerine trees and enlaced the boughs with colored garlands even though they hadn’t yet reach the island.

“Nami,” Chopped called in a low voice awkwardly tapping his hooves against each other and snuffling, “Is… Santa coming to us?”

Puzzled by the question, the navigator nodded.

“Of course, Chopper. Santa comes to all good kids… and adults. To the bad ones too,” she narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and slowly turned her head in the direction of the bickering friends. “But there is not enough coal for those in the whole world. It’s easier to send them to a mine.”

“Are there deer, too?” he went on, still meek and at the same time more enthusiastic. “Or is he traveling by ship? He can’t get here by his sleigh, right?..”

Nami looked at him, clearly perplexed: she wasn’t ready for such questions; practically deprived of childhood herself, she never had illusions as to Santa’s personality but the girl didn’t venture to shatter her friend’s faith in this mythological figure. To her Christmas was a day when she could finally express her gratitude and affection towards all the crew members (and to get a nice present for her outstanding navigation skills) but for Chopper it was an evening of miracles and didn’t want to wreck it all.

“Doctor-san,” Robin suddenly came to rescue with her low voice pierced with confidence, “his sleigh runs across the sky, not by the sea. Why would he need a ship if it is safer to travel above multiple dangers of the Grand Line?”

The archeologist’s words mollified the reindeer: his large woeful eyes beamed in a heartbeat. If Nami was able to fib a little, Robin would rather remain silent or elude.

“Don’t you happen to know,” Chopper hesitated for another moment rattling his hooves again, “when is he coming? I would… I would love to just have a peep… at Rudolph. I heard that he was… different from others. Just like me. But I have a blue nose…”

Even if Robin was taken aback, she didn’t reveal her astonishment in the slightest: her face remained serene and tranquil. With a small apologetic smile upon the lips, the woman shook her head and adorned his tiny antlers with a garland interwoven with a sparkling tinsel.

“Unfortunately, Doctor-san, I cannot give you a proper answer to that. The number of good kids changes from year to year, and he has to pay a visit to them all. But I am certain this time he will stay a little longer: after all, you have done so many good things that you deserve a special present.”

Encouraged by the praise, Chopper was about to start dancing: the reindeer still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was genuinely loved and cherished even though aloof and unsociable Law tended to commend him every once in a while. And if Nami expressed her emotions in quite a ribald way, Robin tried to find the right approach to everyone not resorting to punches and manipulations – even a rejection didn’t sound adamant though her voice was always firm.

“Then,” the doctor scratched his blue nose, “If you see him… can you please wake me up? I promise not to fall asleep but,” here he got embarrassed completely, “Every year I just pass out and… I would love to…”

“Of course Doctor-san,” Robin interrupted him soflty, “We’ll be on guard.”

“Don’t worry Chopper,” Nami bolstered her friend, “A mouse won’t slip by Zoro, let alone an old man with a flock of deer. We’ll take care of it!”

As soon as their inspired friend rushed to his little laboratory equipped with all the necessary things for his endless experiments, Nami crossed her arms in the chest staring at Robin with a suspicious grimace on the visage.

“I certainly love your idea,” she muttered in a low voice, “But what is that you suggest us doing? We cannot steal a deer, put a red nose on it and introduce it as Rudolph. I couldn’t even think that he’s so…”

“Flustered? Excited? This is quite obvious,” the woman adjusted a glossy purple ball on the tangerine branch so its ribbon didn’t cover the image. “He doesn’t really have someone… to share his experience with. Whether we want it or not, we… do not fully understand him.”

“So what are we supposed to do? To turn ourselves into deer?” said Nami sarcastically. “Can’t even imagine myself… this way. I’m no doe. What kind of doe… would I be?..”

“The most beautiful doe in the world, Nami-swan! You will be the most charming female deer in th–”

Robin chuckled: Sanji didn’t manage to accomplish his laudatory ode as he got maimed which nonetheless failed to cool him down.

“You’re just in time, Sanji-kun,” the woman smiled thus provoking another bout of jitter. “Do you know the legend about Rudolph the Deer?”

Soon enough the whole crew began to arrange the Christmas party for Chopper. Nami, as usual, was in charge: she succeeded to draw attention to the discussion by heavy blows and threatening stares while Robin put forward various proposals that seemed suitable. Luffy only comprehended that Chopper ‘had some wrong Christmas’ and offered to pile the deer with presents but the idea implying a thousand of meat dishes didn’t sit well with the rest of the crew. Zoro supported his Captain on the topic of presents but added on his own behalf: let the swirlybrow make a present to them all by locking himself up in the kitchen throughout the celebration. Sanji pledged to cut the swordsman in pieces and feed seagulls, deprecated. Brook proposed to compose a song – and Robin’s hands writing down more or less reasonable suggestions, started jotting something in her notebook.

“Why not write him a letter?” exclaimed Usopp out of the blue. “It won’t replace Rudolph of course but… at least we will show we care about him.”

“And then he’ll eventually understand that Marimo is a good-for-nothing sentinel who hasn’t heard the thud of the hooves,” Sanji noticed melancholically, lighting another cigarette. “What a remarkably useless plant. Shall we toss it overboard?”

“I don’t need my swords to beat the shit out of you,” hissed Zoro flaring up. “Damn you, ero-cook!..”

It didn’t take much time to put things in apple pie order and reassert the breached discipline: Nami scattered the two in different directions, and both the swordsman and the cook rubbed their heads and squabbled in hushed voices not to instigate the navigator who seemed to like Usopp’s offer.

The preparations lasted for the whole day: Robin sneaked into the farthest corner of the deck to write the letter; Sanji wearing a funny apron garnished the desserts with cotton candy. As for Zoro, he had risked to get a carver knife between the eyes and now imitated some frenzied activity – according to the cook, it was ‘frenzied enough to outshine the quickest algae drifting with the stream’. Brook, laughing, was playing a song by ear while Usopp was wrapping the presents. Nami kept things tidy: she prevented Luffy from pushing his nose into every single box he saw. Franky, though, took care of it himself: he had cut out several wooden boxes for various trinkets. Now he improved his invention and fit locks into them – exclusively by the navigator’s request so eager to keep the spirit of Christmas. Albeit none of the tasks looked hard to finish, they appeared to be time-consuming, so none of the pirated noticed when and how the warm climate gave way to pleasant frost and slight snowfall.

Chopper went out to the deck only in the evening and started perusing snowflakes, so brittle and peculiar that they seemed to be knitted. They sank into his auburn fur and didn’t melt at all as if they morphed into a scintillating garland. Back at home they looked less fragile and yet bigger; accustomed to blizzards and cold, he learnt to ignore them and now, after all those visits to hot countries, a simply snowstorms morphed into a hibernal miracle.

He remembered the first time he saw himself in the reflection of the frozen river. He remembered his resentment for himself, that blue nose, and roared smashing whatever he could smash. He remembered how he nuzzled into white and fluffy snow hoping that the color of the nose would alter, and he, Chopper, would be just like others.

He also recollected the frosty redolence Hululuk’s fur coat exuded; he recalled Kureha’s perfume mingled with the fragrance of the wind. Her hands were always tender and smelled ice while Hululuk reminded him of the first snowflakes’ scent. It dawned upon him how much he actually could reminisce: that cheerful laughter, ridiculous stories the Doctor used to tell, and those midnight talks – they spoke about everything in the world. It was almost eternity ago when Chopper lost his best friend – and they still had so much to discuss. Hiluluk always supported him, and, probably in his own manner, taught the little reindeer to keep his head up.

“Merry Christmas,” a familiar gentle voice came; Chopper sharply turned in the direction of the sound and instantly noticed a figure he knew so well: it was a tad shorter than he remembered and moved angularly but the kind smile and warm eyes made everything clear. It was exactly the person who encouraged Chopper to become a doctor.

“Doctor Hiluluk!” the reindeer darted towards the man feeling he was barely able to squelch the tears that were about gush out from the eyes. “Doctor Hiluluk!.. How did you..? You are...”

The intruder laughed in a low tone and embraced his friend caringly.

“You’ve become so big and strong,” the doctor patted Chopper by the shoulder, “Are you happy with them?.. I’ve heard a lot about you, Chopper. I am exceedingly proud of you. You have become a talented physician. You are definitely second to none.”

The little reindeer didn’t release his friend – and almost ignored the praise. Millions of questions were swarming in his head but he didn’t hurry to ask them. Hiluluk didn’t insist on a decent conversation: he kept smiling looking at the reindeer cursing himself for the cruelty he had shown in the past. How could throw him out sugarcoating his atrocity and calling it care? Why didn’t he tell the truth letting Chopper make his own decision whether to stick around or to deal with his own life? Yes, that notorious quack felt ashamed and couldn’t disappoint his friend, but at the moment, after all those years, he finally realized that it may have been the only blunder he regretted so much. If he could turn back time, nothing of it would have happened.

“They do love you,” the guest drawled squatting before Chopper. “And protect you too. I am glad to know that you have found a family… despite everything. I am so sorry that I cannot be near.”

“But you are here!” the reindeer exclaimed blinking his watery eyes. “I’ll introduce you to my nakamas. They’ll like, I assure you! Sanji will cook the pies you are so fond of, Brook will sing for you, you’ll talk to Robin and–”

With a sad smile on the lips Hiluluk shook his head.

“Alas, it won’t do.” He sighed heavily. “You have a different life now… But,” he straightened up, “I have a little surprise for you, Chopper. I know who you are waiting for. Unfortunately, he cannot…”

Robin’s soft hand touched the glossy fur. Flummoxed, Nami noticed that Chopper finally awoke and placed a small box near the adoze reindeer: it was different from those that Franky had created. This one had incised ornaments and a carving of a certain mushroom on the lid. Still sleepy, Chopper kept staring at the present: did someone do that specifically for him?

“Open it, Doctor-san. This undoubtedly belongs to you.”

Robin’s honeyed mellow voice seemed to have pushed him, and the little hooves lifted the lid. Inside, there was a handful of pink powder – the same powder his friend had been working on, – and a letter with a stamp of a deer hoof. The whole crew gathered around: Usopp failed to wake him up, and panicked alarming the rest – even Zoro, normally apathetic and detached, scowled and rushed to rescue.

The whole ship was emblazoned and festooned. Nami had cleared the place underneath her tangerines, and now neatly wrapped presents were peacefully lying there revealing the cards written in Usopp’s and Franky’s untidy yet diligent hands. Sanji was serving cocoa with little cloud of marshmallow. Exclusively for Chopper he had created rosy petals of cotton candy. Robin, normally calm, adjusted bows, knots and decorations striving to make everything look like a picture. The evergreen lawn where the crew used to sprawl and relax, turned white: no one even tried to get rid of the glistening snow which reflected all Sunny’s embers and glimmers.

“Merry Christmas, Chopper,” Nami flashed him a broad smile.

“Merry Christmas!” shouted both Zoro and Sanji and looked daggers at each other.

“Su-u-u-u-u-u-per-r-r-r-r Christmas!” Franky struck a pose raising both his arms in the air.

“Mefwy Fuwissmas!” pronounced Luffy proudly munching on the ham he’d just stolen from the kitchen. A sound of Sanji’s powerful kick muffled another sentence he was about to utter.

“We love you, Chopper!” candidly declared Usopp.

“Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!.. Merry Christmas, Chopper-san. Thank you for suturing our wounds! Though… yo-ho-ho… I don’t have skin to be sutured! Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

The little reindeer sniveled. Probably he should let his past go – to let it get dispersed in a blur of pink petals.

#one piece #OP #merry christmas #christmas #xmas #chopper #hiluluk #dr. hiluluk #nami #luffy #zoro #sanji #robin #franky #brook #usopp #mugiwara kaizoku #mugiwarapirates #straw hat pirates

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laird-brochtuarach · 4 years

Photo

Sam Heughan On Outlander's Devastating Double Loss

BY JULIE KOSIN

“Murtagh, ugh!” In the midst of a pandemic, Sam Heughan is trying to remain positive—the actor has just completed a social isolation baking challenge with his Outlander cast mates when we hop on the phone to discuss the latest episode—but I've just accused him of emotional manipulation, and I'm well within my rights. Tonight's Outlander offers several tragic beats that would be crushing on their own: Jamie Fraser donning a British red coat to fight against the Regulators; the death of his beloved godfather, Murtagh Fitzgibbons (Duncan Lacroix), in the skirmish history will remember as the Battle of Alamance; and the gruesome discovery of his son-in-law Roger (Richard Rankin) hanging from a tree after crossing paths with the enemy camp.

Heughan loved every minute. "It was my favorite episode," he tells ELLE.com of "The Ballad of Roger Mac." "This was a tough season to break from the book and I think it’s going to be one of our best because of that storyline." Murtagh's death is a controversial storytelling choice; in the Outlander books, the character died years earlier under less dramatic circumstances. But on the show, Jamie and Murtagh are pitted against each other—Murtagh as a Regulator, part of an early group of rebels plotting against British rule in the late 1760s, as Jamie is conscripted to fight alongside the British lest he lose Fraser's Ridge, the land he and Claire (Caitriona Balfe) have built into a bustling settlement in the backwoods of North Carolina. In fact, Jamie's superior has ordered him to find and kill Murtagh, a task Jamie managed to avoid until battle, when another soldier completes the deed with a shot to Murtagh's chest. The Scot dies in Jamie's arms, his last words exactly the same as in the book: "Dinna be afraid, a bhalaich. It doesn’t hurt a bit to die." It's a heartbreak neither Jamie nor book fans saw coming, and one compounded by the strain of losing Roger. "It's a very dense episode," Heughan accedes. "The repercussions are huge for everyone."

Below, Heughan breaks down the process of shooting this episode, what's to come, and how his My Peak Challenge fitness charity is encouraging self-care during coronavirus self-isolation.

Jamie has experienced a lot of grief in the last few seasons. What makes Murtagh’s death different?

It felt [like] the most grief. He's not only losing his godfather—basically a stepfather—but he’s losing the last real contact with Scotland, the last member of his blood apart from his aunt and daughter. It’s very raw—losing that part of his life, the old world and ways of doing things. For Jamie, losing him is like losing his rock, like losing one of his points of safety. There was always this great love between Jamie and Murtagh and it was never spoken of. You just knew Murtagh was always there for Jamie, and likewise.

Jamie’s unwillingness to accept reality is surprising. Everyone can see that Murtagh is dead, but he drags his godfather’s body to Claire and demands she heal him.

I mean, he knows. Of course he knows, but he would do anything to save his godfather, and Claire is the one person who if anyone could do anything, it would be her. He's in all the stages of grief, and then reality dawns on him. It's funny because we shot that as a pickup scene, [so] it’s interesting when it [comes] together. We had to shoot [Murtagh's death] a couple of times because of problems with continuity, so it was challenging to shoot.

You’ve been planning to put Jamie in the red coat for a while—how much of what we see onscreen is what you envisioned when you first pitched it?

It's pretty similar. Before we finished last season I knew Jamie was on the side of the British, and I went to Matt [Roberts, executive producer] and the costume department and said, "Could we put Jamie in a red coat?" Then I went back early to do a fitting for the coat. I wanted Jamie looking good and powerful in it. Everything it stands for is everything he’s fought against—the occupation of Scotland, the suppression of his culture, Blackjack Randall, Wentworth Prison. There’s so much psychologically in this piece of material. Historically, it’s probably not quite accurate—if he was a general in the militia, he probably wouldn't have worn a red coat, but really, it’s less about him becoming a redcoat and more about Tryon testing him.

Did you research the Battle of Alamance before shooting?

It actually wasn't much of a battle—I think the number of casualties were maybe 20 or so. Those words Governor Tryon says, "Fire upon them or fire upon me," is what [the real] Tryon said. We see that he really pushed for this battle. He wanted to be seen as a great general and he wasn't. His men wouldn't fire upon the regulators initially, because they were [basically] the same people.

This episode felt uncomfortably resonant—a federal government turning on its own people in a time of crisis.

Not much has changed, and there are torn loyalties as well. It was the same at Culloden, because you had Scots fighting for the British against [Stuart’s army]. It's [a question of], where does your loyalty lie, and who do you think is going to look after you? A lot of these people were fighting because they needed money. They needed to support their families or they thought they were doing the right thing. It's tough morally.

What was shooting those battle sequences like?

Crazy. I think we shot the main sequence with the cannon in two days. It was summer in Scotland, and we don't generally have a really hot summer, but it was pretty hot at that point. They were tough days. We shot over a number of days in the forest with a second unit, and we all loved being part of that. We haven't seen that type of battle in Outlander, with muskets and guerrilla warfare. It’s very different from the battles we had before. We can see the world is changing, with this new technology and modern warfare.

The final shot of the episode is the family finding Roger hanging. What does this mean for the rest of the season?

The whole family will be hurting. We can see everyone really struggling. The family is beginning to fracture, and that's what the season's really about—they’re torn apart by different circumstances. There's a really fantastic episode coming up, which is quite stylized. When we first read it, we weren't sure how it was going to play out, but I think it really works.

This section of the book is so dark, and now we have Murtagh’s death weighing over it.

Of course there are people that are purists, but it's really great to still surprise the viewer while in Diana Gabaldon's world. We're not changing much. We're adding and layering, and we're back to the status quo now. That character's gone, so we're back to Diana Gabaldon's book, but the Murtagh storyline has definitely added a lot to the season.

Is Jamie hardened at the end of this episode?

I think he's lost something. There's a hole there and it'll take him time. Time is the healer in this one, for all [the characters]. But because of circumstances, he's really thrust into having to be the man of action again and put his family first. By the end of the season, everyone is unsure of the future. They're uncertain of what's going to happen. Even though they have this prior knowledge, they know this great battle is coming. The forecast of the future doesn't look very promising.

You launched My Peak Challenge years ago as a fitness program that helps members get healthy while supporting different charities. How did the social distancing challenge come to be?

We launched My Peak Challenge four years ago and we've been growing—we have ambassadors from every country and they get together and do challenges. Now they've been working out how to do things online, like Zoom challenges. We have a private group where people post about finding mobility and losing weight and gaining strength and confidence and making new friends. And we've fully financed a couple research projects for blood cancer. It’s nice to be able to do something. As an actor, you feel pretty pointless and hopeless. We're there to entertain, obviously, and to help spread the message, and we wanted to do something with [My Peak Challenge]. It took us about a week to put the videos together, but people seem to really enjoy it, and we want to post more challenges. Hopefully it's helping people stay sane. It's great that people can share it and virtually challenge their friends and family. It should be accessible as well. I noticed a lot of people are putting together these workout series, but I think we beat Hemsworth to it. [Laughs]

#Sam Heughan #Jamie Fraser #duncan lacroix #murtagh fraser #Outlander #my edits

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sjrresearch · 4 years

Text

An Interview with Matt Hingley, Ehliem Miniatures Founder

(This article is credited to Jason Weiser. Jason is a long-time wargamer with published works in the Journal of the Society of Twentieth Century Wargamers; Miniature Wargames Magazine; and Wargames, Strategy, and Soldier.)

Author’s Note: Mr. Hingley is a very private person and has asked us not to include a personal bio with this interview as is customary. However, with his permission, I will give you all a short history of Ehliem Miniatures. He’s been the victim of a few online scams, and thus, is reluctant to give personal information out.

All pictures are from the Ehliem Miniatures website and have been used with gracious permission.

Ehliem Miniatures was founded in 2005 and is based in the United Kingdom. The company was founded and is run by Matt Hingley. Ehliem has gone on to set a standard for excellence in the 20mm wargaming miniatures market, having a fruitful partnership with Ambush Alley Games. Matt has expanded the business to sell a range of 3-D printed terrain and vehicles, and I can personally attest to the quality of his miniature ranges. He has always been a solid, kind professional and is “one of the good guys in the hobby.” You can order these wonderful figures for yourself at: https://www.elhiem.co.uk/

Without further ado, here’s the interview.

Jason Weiser: So, how did you get started sculpting historical miniatures? Was there an “aha” moment, or did you fall into it?

Matt: I started out as a historical gamer and painter. As a painter, I got to know quite a few guys involved in the design business and asked them to produce a few figures that I wanted that would not really sell. They told me no, so that was that. I managed to get the contact details of a couple of sculptors and convinced them to make my figures. Over time, they were too busy to make anymore so I decided to teach myself how to sculpt, mold, and cast. My first efforts were pretty poor but not without hope so I carried on and read up on techniques and tools. Over time I improved. So, not so much an ‘AHA’ moment, more a long slow learning curve.

JW: How did Ehliem Figures come to be?

Matt: When I started out, I only had a handful of miniatures. No one had the time to manufacture them for me, so I ended up using commercial casting companies. The costs soon increased, and I started selling to recover the costs. Also, you had to buy hundreds of the same miniature at a time using casting companies so it seemed sensible.

JW: What are your future plans for the historical lines?

Matt: Expand the WW2 lines, the modern lines, the Sci-Fi and the Pulp ranges. There is a whole lot of historical conflicts out there to keep me busy for a long time.

JW: What’s your favorite historical sculpt of your line?

Matt: That is a difficult one to answer. I try to make every figure interesting and fun to paint as that’s what I enjoy painting. It’s also why I struggle to make seated figures and vehicle crews, to me they are dull to look at and make, so they tend to get made last. My favorite sculpt at the moment is one of the Fantasy figures I just made, the evil Wizard figure. Historical miniature is probably one of the new SAS in NVG, [See picture below] I took a lot of time getting the details right on those.

JW: Is there a period of history you want to sculpt, but haven’t?

Matt: [The] Wild West. I fancy making a spaghetti Western range, a few Civil war guys, and maybe a few Native Americans. I grew up watching westerns so have a soft spot for them…

JW: Can you tell our readers what goes into figure design and sculpting?

Matt: Planning and lots of research. I spend as much time researching the equipment and the way weapons were carried as I do anything else. I sometimes sketch out ideas, most of the time the basics are the same for all figures though (so many rifles, so many NCOs, so many support [weapons] etc.) I tend to use a system of dollies in poses and build upon them using previously made parts such as heads, weapons, webbing equipment, etc. It has changed a lot over the past 12 months though due to new design and tech.

JW: Has 3D Printing changed this any? And, do you think it will change the hobby as a whole?

Matt: Yes, I have invested in computer design software for hard and soft design work. I have invested in very high-quality printers and it has opened up a new world of possibilities to me. I can now design and 3D sculpt all my weapons and even vehicles which I was never the best at making in plastic but seem pretty decent at in CAD. I also use my knowledge of the scale I manufacture and make designs workable (something that is just not possible if you just shrink a model to scale).

It has already changed the hobby. Lots of design work is available free for you to print at home. People are designing their own models, Companies like my own are using it to create even more detailed models. I myself have recently switched over to pure digital sculpting. I use the same methods as I did when sculpting (often using the same models in the original CAD files for weapons etc). I see it as HD sculpting in comparison to my old handmade sculpts.

I can also see it potentially hurting the hobby long term as people will be able to produce their own models at home and no longer must buy from people like me. Files will be pirated and sold on eBay, pirates will print out files and cast them and sell them on as their own work (this already happens to my old figures on eBay). It won’t kill the hobby industry, but I feel it will add challenges going forward. I like a challenge though and I think it will encourage us all to try harder.

JW: What are your favorite historical periods and why?

Matt: WW2, Romans, Vietnam, Cold War and the 2001+ modern conflicts. I grew up watching films and TV about them. The modern conflict was an important part of all of our lives, and it is fascinating to see the development of gear and weapons. And Romans are just cool.

JW: How did you settle on 20mm when so many manufacturers are producing 15mm or 28mm these days?

Matt: I grew up with 20mm plastics and metals. I think it’s the perfect scale for skirmish and mass combat. It can be painted as good as a 28mm figure or as fast as a 15mm. I honestly think as a model scale 20mm or 1/72 is the better option for storage and gaming. There are thousands of models available as well as all the model railway terrain. You will never get a full range of oddball stuff in 28mm as it's just too expensive to produce and smaller scale work has never interested me as I’m a painter at heart and while you can paint small tiny scale stuff up to fantastic quality, I have to always ask ‘what’s the point?’ no one can see it once it’s on the table. That is my personal opinion of course, I am sure there are lots of guys out there who disagree, and good for them.

JW: What other hobbies do you pursue to unwind?

Matt: I [play] computer game[s], I [also play] airsoft, [and] I go for lots of walks.

JW: What do you see for the future of historical miniature wargaming?

Matt: I think it will carry on as it is. Scales come and go, types of games become fashionable. All that is constant is players like to get new collections and play new games. It keeps things fresh yet still very stable. Young players tend to start with sci-fi and fantasy, they grow older, go to college, get jobs and stop gaming for a few years and then tend to come back later to historical gaming, their children start off in the same way and it continues. In the late 90s, a lot of guys I know were worried that the gamers were drying up. Well, 25 years on I see more than ever. The internet has helped bring people together and gamers can collect figures and models even with no locals to game with.

JW: You’re well known for your commissions and requests, is this something you just kind of decided on, or was this something you saw lacking in the marketplace?

Matt: Well, it’s sort of why I started making figures so I like to listen to what people want made. Sometimes I say no, most of the time I just have too much on. I also have to balance if people really want what they ask for or just would like to see it made (big difference). So, I run the commissions and the vote/fund as my way of crowdfunding. I also like a structure to work too, people give me lists of what’s needed and I’ll just work to it rather than sit there and think up a new range. I suggested the idea years ago to another company and have just carried the idea on.

At SJR Research, we specialize in creating compelling narratives and provide research to give your game the kind of details that engage your players and create a resonant world they want to spend time in. If you are interested in learning more about our gaming research services, you can browse SJR Research’s service on our site at SJR Research.

#gaming #wargaming #miniatures

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fandom-collective-writers · 5 years

Text

The Dragoness Unleashed

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Masamune x MC (Mai)

Prompt: I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.

Warning: A little smut at the end

Word Count: 2154

Written for: Anonymous @ikemen-discord-writers

Written by @kiarigirl

Summary: When the men go off to war, what is a dragoness supposed to do? Mai gathers a few ladies to assist her in a counter offense that no one will see coming.

A/N: Thanks to the overwhelming support on my last Masamune fic, I have decided that I would make this part 2 of The Dragon series

Part 1 Thank you to @whalebubblez @muggzc @louveau @prettybird8 @pandapeachez for requesting this couple get their own series.

Mai watched through the early morning haze as Lord Nobunaga and his retainers headed off to war. That included the man she was promised to marry, the One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu, Masamune. It hadn’t been long since she first arrived in Azuchi offering herself as a bride to him as a way of earning protection for her village. She wore a valiant smile that masked her true concern, The war would begin soon and no matter how prepared men on either side trained, there would be death. There was no way to know if or when she might see Masamune and the other warlords again. For all she knew, they could lose the war which put her village right back in the path of danger. With that knowledge hanging over her like a Damocles sword, Mai made a hasty retreat back to Masamune’s manor.

Shogetsu met her at the door, as if welcoming her into his owner’s domain. With little more than a resigned sigh, Mai petted the tiger kit. “He’s gone off to war, so I guess you’re my responsibility until he returns. We’ll keep each other company until Masamune comes back.” The kit circled around Mai’s feet before finally padding off to one of the bedrooms. Mai moved to the writing desk that Masamune had given her shortly after he had accepted her as his wife to be. With unhurried strokes, she began writing a letter to her father. When finished, she sent it with a Date clan messenger with instructions to wait for his reply.

Elsewhere, Nobunaga and his men stopped to set up camp. “We will stop here to set up a camp. Make certain that the medical tent is protected.” He recalled an earlier skirmish in which enemy forces had poisoned the water supply and desperately wanted to avoid that from happening again. He needed all of his men healthy.

Once camp was set up, the warlords gathered around for a war council meeting. “Hideyoshi, I want you and Mitsunari with me. We will meet the God of War head on.” A silent pause was taken as he looked between his remaining three vassals. “I realize you have fought the Tiger of Kai before Ieyasu but I need your specialty here so I am sending Masamune to face Shingen.” If he felt any remorse or regret about his choice, Nobunaga hid it well. “Mitsuhide, you are to aide whichever of us that needs it.”

With their orders, every man gathered his troops and prepared for the coming battle. Before heading off to face Shingen, Masamune approached Nobunaga privately. “Lord Nobunaga! Might I have a word with you before we head out?” His normal wild ‘ ready to murder some people’ face, suddenly clouded over as he stood before his lord. “If anything happens to me. If I die in battle, promise me that you will honor my promise to defend Mai’s village. I think she’d do well as a wife to Mitsu--,” but before he could finish the name of the man he trusted Mai with, Nobunaga silenced him.

“You do not have permission to die today, Masamune.” That was all Nobunaga had to say on the matter. He refused to promise something that would never need a promise. He mounted his horse and ordered the march into the midday battle. Masamune stared wide eyed at Nobunaga before wiping away the concern he felt. He climbed atop a magnificent black steed and with only a sword thrust led his men towards Shingen.

Meanwhile, in the village where Mai was raised, a messenger stood before the village elder. “I see. This is very problematic.” He read the words on the letter once again before finally turning to the messenger. “The battle begins today for you, but for us it never ended. I will send six girls with. Tell her I can not offer more and for that I am sorry.” The elder walked to an adjacent room. To the dismay of the messenger, Mai’s father returned with six women.

“I am certain Lady Mai will be grateful for the women you are sending her.” The messenger looked to the women a bit woefully unsure of how they would all get back to Azuchi before nightfall.

Once outside three horses were readied for the journey back to the castle. “I shall pray for Lord Oda’s success in a swift war.” The elder looked at the women he chose to help aid his daughter. To the unsuspecting eye, there was nothing remarkable about them but the elder grinned. “Be safe,” he advised before the women mounted horses two to a horse.

By the time night fell over Japan, the Date messenger and his six charges were safely approaching the gates of Azuchi. Mai stood stoic as she watched half the number of people return as expected. Six, better than none, she mused to herself. “Welcome to Azuchi. Come, you all must be hungry.” It wasn’t a question of if, but rather a command to join her. “Even you, Tarou,” she hinted, which earned her a shocked look from the messenger.

Tarou’s eyes were like starless skies as he learned that years earlier each and every woman at the meeting had been trained in espionage. Chou was one of two war widows who had the good fortune to meet with Mai when she was barely an adult. Chou, Tarou discovered, was a very skilled geisha. Emi and Hana were twins who were orphaned at birth. Their parents believed, wrongly that the sign of twins meant impending disaster. Naturally they had been wrong about the girls who now worked as maids as part of their spying. Kasumi, it turned out was the youngest of the bunch. At the age of fifteen, her village was burnt to the ground. Shingen had taken her in and seen that she was trained to spy on his enemies; little did he know he was actually training a woman whose life his men had destroyed. Then there was Yua, the second war widow. She was the niece of Yoshimoto Imagawa, but had no love for the man. During dinner, Mai discussed her plan for herself and the six women she had been granted.

At a camp hours from Azuchi, the cries and groans of injured men filled the night sky. Those who could eat did while others took turns helping tend to the injured. “There weren’t as many injured as anticipated,” Ieyasu said trying to sound optimistic despite his usual gruff nature.

“Still, too many if you ask me. Lucky none have died yet.”

The trampling of horse hooves grew louder as they neared the camp. The dark moonless sky made it nearly impossible to tell who it was until the rider was upon them. A messenger bearing not the attire of the Oda or even the Date clan but that of the Akechi approached the camp. The horse slowed but had not come to a halt when the man leapt from it. “Lord Mitsuhide. I bring you a message from Azuchi.” He realized too late that the others were close at hand and covered his mouth with a tessen.

Masamune recognized the fan immediately, his one good eye stared at Mitsuhide’s messenger. “Where did you get that?” His hand reached out for the fan.

The messenger jerked the tessen back in time to prevent Masamune from grabbing it. “I was returning from my duties when I spotted a group of women and one of your men approaching Azuchi. I followed them at a safe distance. One of the women dropped this when Lady Mai met them at the gate.” The look of shock fell upon nearly every warlord’s face; all but Mitsuhide and Masamune.

“I see,” Mitsuhide grinned, trying to provoke Masamune, “and how many women exactly arrived tonight?”

Masamune’s hand reached for his sword waiting for the man’s reply. “I was too far away but if it was between three and six. If they doubled up on horses that is.” He tossed the weapon to Mitsuhide. “Perhaps women from her village?”

Masamune stormed off into the darkness muttering something that no one quite made out. Once alone he looked in the direction of Azuchi and gave a loud scream of frustration. The sound was loud enough that it frightened small creatures that had been hiding in the tall field of grass.

Sometime later, all of Kasugayama and Azuchi men had fallen asleep save for a couple of look outs on either side. The small band of women worked their way to their directed targets. Two women settled in the village nearest the encampment of Kenshin while another two found lodging closer to Shingen’s location. The last two, Kasumi and Yua went to Kasugayama Castle. There was no way to get messages to Mai, but she trusted that all would go according to plan. In the dark of night, Mai tripped over a body that was lying hidden in the wide grass.

She attempted to get up, but a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream when her eyes finally adjusted to the smokiness of her surroundings. “Masamune?”, she questioned.

“Lass, what are you doing out here? It’s dangerous. You should go back but I have some questions before you do.” He pulled her into his embrace. Oh yes, he had questions for her, like why did she leave Azuchi after night fall and who were those women that the messenger had seen. Just as he opened his mouth to question her, Mai kissed him, disorienting him and his mind in the process.

She peeled open his kimono, eyes looking for wounds or sign he had been in battle. When no new injuries were found, Mai smiled down at the man she had started to fall in love with. Her fingers slid her kimono open revealing her naked body to Masamune. He stared at this bold as brass woman who wanted to make love to him on the eve of another battle. He was like a deer caught in the headlights, trapped between what he was doing and should be doing. “Why don’t we just say I missed you too much to stay home?”

He grabbed tight onto her arms and eased her down over his ever hardening cock. It was a bad idea, but god he couldn’t help himself. When the universe sends you a woman to keep you calm, warm and sated, you don’t turn your back on the universe. He thrust up until his body was almost one with Mai’s much smaller and softer body. He grunted softly into her ear. “You know you won’t be permitted to stay. Come morning, I have to send you home.”

Mai moaned as she pressed kiss after kiss along his neck. “Are you not enjoying this, Masa? I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” She teased him for being so quiet when no one else seemed to be awake. Her fingers danced over his chest until they found his nipples.

Did she just challenge his manhood? He rolled her over onto her back; with the right angle and more control of the situation, Masa drove harder into his wild dragoness. Even with only one eye he was able to see how his actions affected her. “Sing for me, princess and together we will hit those high notes you are so very fond of.” Smoldering heat rippled through the both of them as her tight walls clamped down on his thick shaft.

Her body twisted and contorted beneath her dragon. Each thrust of his hips only impaled her that much deeper until at last her moans rang like the sweetest melody. Her orgasm hit quick and hard leaving her in a flinching puddle of splayed arms and legs. Once certain that he had given her what she needed, Masamune pulled free on her and rolled her onto her hands and knees. He eased into her ass as he leaned in biting her ear. “Now, let me show you how a dragon roars.”

He plunged deep into her, hands latched onto her soft supple hips as he made use of her in ways neither envisioned; at least not on a battlefield. Masamune’s rhythm and tempo ensured that both him and Mai would be well pleased, if not a little sore. With nothing but earth to dig her hands into, Mai leaned down making her body into a wedge shape. This angle was perfect for Masa who let out a loud roar as his orgasm hit and he felt the tell tale spurting of his seed into her body. Once satisfied, both Mai and Masamune collapsed back to the ground. He closed her kimono with his arm so that when morning came, no one would see the vision that would one day be his wife.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen fanfic #ikesen masamune #kunoichi #mai is the dragoness #fluff #ikesen smut #part two #Maybe request

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three-houses-text-files · 5 years

Text

felix/sylvain

c-a support + paired endings

Sylvain: Hey, Felix, you free? You don't look very busy. Let's go find some girls to chat with. Felix: Chat with them by yourself. You're interrupting my training. S: Hey, come on. Don't talk like that. How long have we known each other? F: Long enough, if you ask me. F: We only know each other because of our parents’ friendship. I didn't have a say in it. S: Is that how it went? Huh. I remember it more like you always following me around. S: Whenever there was something wrong—like you lost to your brother or you fought with Dimitri—you'd come crying to me. S: You were so meek and pure back then, cute even...like a baby brother. F: That’s enough. S: What? F: I said, "That's enough." S: Hey! Sorry. I just came to see if you wanted to pick up some girls. I didn't mean to get on your nerves. F: Look. You've been getting on my nerves for years. F: I’ve tried to be patient with you, but I'm tired of holding my tongue. F: You’re reckless in your personal affairs and in battle. And you're always prattling on about women! S: Well, if a man sees a pretty girl, he can't just let her pass by without commenting. That's just rude. F: You’re insatiable. Do you ever stop? F: Certainly not to practice your sword technique. You always skip training. F: And you never consider how your actions hurt others...or how you hold them back. S: That's never my intention. Come on, you know me better than that. I'm not really— S: Look, if that's the impression I've given you, then I'm sorry. F: Hmph.

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F: Sylvain. I want to apologize for the other day. S: The other day? What are you talking about, Felix? Is this a trap? F: You know...when I called you "insatiable." S: Oh, that? Can't say it didn't hurt, but you have nothing to apologize for. S: I mean, you've said worse, Felix. S: Considerably worse. S: Come on, we've known each other since we were kids. We're not going to let your constant verbal abuse get in the way of our friendship, are we? F: No, I suppose not. S: Whenever I started doing something dumb, you’d yell at me about it. S: And whenever you dragged me into something, Ingrid would find out and start lecturing us. S: All these years and not much has changed, has it? (w/ ingrid in house) S: All these years and not much has changed, has it? Even if we don't have Ingrid lording over us… (no ingrid) S: But you're different, Felix. You used to be so, I don’t know...carefree when we were young. S: Now you're the exact opposite. F: Well, you're not any different. Good-for-nothing then. Good-for-nothing now. S: Again with the abuse! This from the guy who’s always been by that good-for-nothing's side. S: So did you come to apologize or to insult me? F: I was on my way to train and I saw you. That's all. S: You're off to train? Again? Now who's insatiable? F: Better than sitting idle like you. S: A little idleness would do you some good, pal. S: Come on. Let me buy you something to eat. F: No. S: You have to choose, Felix. Our friendship, or your training. F: My training. Good-bye for now. S: What did— Is he— Wait, Felix! I'll come train too. Wait up!

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a (i?)

F: Sylvain. Eat these. S: What are "these," Felix? Oh, hey, is this candy? F: A girl in town gave them to me, but I don’t want them. S: Right, you don't like sweet stuff. Thanks, I'll eat them later. S: So, what do you need? Want me to help you get closer to a girl? Just point her out. F: You’re incorrigible. No. I wanted to thank you for your help in battle. F: If you hadn't spotted that enemy ambush, I would have been killed. S: Nah, I didn't do anything special. S: Friends help each other out, especially on the battlefield. Just a little give and take, ya know? F: You never change. S: Nope. I try to stay on an even keel. F: You're always... S: Always what? F: Nothing. S: Come on. If you've got something on your mind, then say it. F: Maybe I'll tell you later. Maybe I won't. S: Fair enough. I'll be having something to eat while you're deciding...whatever it is you're deciding. S: Actually, come with me. My treat. If you do want to talk, then I'm right there. F: OK, just this once. Only because you saved my life. S: Free food, possible conversation, and when we’re done, we can find some girls. F: … S: It was a joke! Felix, I was joking! Come on, let's just go eat.

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a (ii?)

F: Sylvain. S: Hey, Felix. I'm glad you're safe. F: You irresponsible fool! Protecting me like that. You're so weak, and yet you always...always... S: Look, it doesn't matter, as long as you're safe. You can go on living, while I... F: Stop kidding around. You're not going to die. I won't let you. S: Heh heh... Nah, I won't die on you. I promise. S: You think something like this could kill me? No way. S: A little magic will take care of the wound. Some bed rest then I'm good to go out and do it all over again. F: Sylvain! S: Oh, come on. That was funny. It's not like you to be so concerned. F: You really are a fool. The biggest in all of Fódlan. F: I thought something was off. There's no way you could die from such a small cut. F: You’re so reckless and inattentive, I thought this might be divine punishment. S: Hey! That's not nice! You should be thanking me. F: I am grateful. You've been doing this since we were children. F: Constantly fooling around, but then showing up and helping when we really need you. F: I'll admit, seeing that smile on your face, I almost want to give you a hug. Almost. S: A hug? Did you get hit on the head? Come on. Tell me you want to hug me again. I liked it. F: Hmph! I won't be repeating it, you half-wit. You're obviously fine, so I'll leave now. S: You know how we grew up together? F: Obviously. S: Do you remember the promise we made when we were kids? About sticking together until we die together? F: I remember. S: Well, I'm really not trying to get myself killed before you. You know that, right? F: I know... I know. F: But I'm tired of these close calls. F: You have to stop fooling around. Take your training more seriously. F: You can die whenever you please, but I'm not going down with you. S: OK, I get it. Once I've healed, I'll get my act together. F: Hmph. Then I hope you have a speedy recovery. F: Sylvain? Thank you. S: That's what friends are for, Felix.

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paired endings

After the war, Felix and Sylvain inherited their respective titles of Duke Fraldarius and Margrave Gautier, and set to work restoring the Kingdom. Each led a busy life, but that only seemed to enhance their friendship over the years. Each became known for making surprise visits to the estate of the other, in order to deliver the latest taunting in a friendly but relentless game of one-upmanship. It is said that, in their later years, they became so close that they passed away on the same day, as if conceding that one could not live without the other. (blue lions route)

Even after the war's end, skirmishes continued to break out across Fódlan. Learning that there were still places where he could fight, Felix abandoned his noble title and chose to make a living with his sword. Decades later, he reunited briefly with Sylvain, who had need of his services as Margrave Gautier. Felix departed as soon as the job was finished, however, and the two never met again. Years later, a sword that was thought to have belonged to Felix arrived on Sylvain's doorstep. (other)

*i’m not entirely sure how the second ending gets unlocked. maybe if felix doesn’t also unlock an ending where he settles down with someone?

edit: i lied! after some further deliberation, i’m sure it’s blue lions route vs. other

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #felix x sylvain #sylvain x felix

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