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trashscenariihxh · 4 years

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Razor x fem!Reader

Another commission! Reminder that for commissions, I personalize the smut for you and make it as specific and detailed as you want. If you give your permission to post it on the blog, I remove all personalized info and make it much more general. Contains: cisfem!Reader, semi public sex, Razor being a sleaze

You never, not in a million years, expected to run into him again, especially not within virtual reality. You’d heard about Greed Island from a friend and entered the game out of boredom and the desire for a reward upon completing it. Why billionaires hired people to complete the game for them, you didn’t know, but weren’t going to ask too many questions when there were hundreds of thousands of Jenny on the line.

You’d been in the game for a couple weeks before you heard about “Razor and his 14 devils.” To be honest, you didn’t really make the connection, though a part of you had wondered. It’s not as though Razor was a popular name.

Having traveled through the different cities and landscapes of Greed Island, you’d experienced some surprises. You’d had to fend off dangerous creatures that looked like they’d stepped out of a fantasy novel and dealt with your fair share of odd individuals trying to steal your cards. Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you arrived at the lighthouse just outside of Soufrabi. Or rather, who you saw.

“_____?”

You jumped when you heard your name, spoken by a man whose voice you hadn’t heard in over ten years. Spinning around, you found yourself face to face with an all too familiar countenance.

There was no doubt that it was him. Sure, he’d aged. His hair was different (a marked improvement, you thought) and he’d traded in his tattered outfits for clean, tight-fitting gym clothes (also an improvement), but there was no mistaking it: a relic of your past was standing before you.

“Razor?”

***

After you and your teammates suffered a crushing defeat (who would have thought that badminton was going to be so violent and... nen-filled), you lingered in the gymnasium, promising to join your companions shortly. You wanted to catch up with an old friend.

Razor’s face was frozen in a smile as he approached you. “____! I never thought I’d see you here. Welcome.” His voice was a lot warmer than you remembered. “You feeling okay?” He pointed at a rapidly forming bruise on your shoulder, a souvenir from an errant shuttlecock.

“Ah this? It’s fine.” You touched the bruise gingerly, suppressing a wince. “So this is your new… home? I guess?” You looked around the now-empty gym. “You playing this game too?”

“Not exactly.” Razor chuckled. “I’m part of it, more like.”

“Oh.” You nodded, pretending to understand. You couldn’t see why anyone would choose to live in such an odd place, but you supposed it was better than Death Row. Speaking of which, how did he… avoid that? Could you ask? Would it be rude? You rolled your eyes at your own stupidity. Razor was a man who had beaten people to death with his bare hands. Who was he to get offended by a question?

“I was given the opportunity to come live here and be part of the game.” Razor seemingly read your mind, much to your embarrassment.

“I see.” Your face grew warm. “So kind of like a delayed plea bargain.”

Razor’s smile was unfaltering. “Something like that.”

You nodded, sucking in your cheeks as you glanced around. “Live here alone then?”

“Nope.” Razor made a sweeping motion with his hands. “Normally the rest of the ‘pirates’ live in this building too.” He knelt down to pick up some haphazardly discarded weights, grumbling about ‘irresponsible lowlifes.’ “They’re probably out drinking. Not much else to do here.” He turned to you again. “We don’t get many visitors here, you know?”

“Isn’t it lonely?” You silently calculated everything Razor had said to you earlier and determined that he’d been stuck on Greed Island for over a decade. When was the last time you saw him...

“A bit.” Razor shrugged, still smiling. “I find ways to keep myself occupied.” His eyes opened a bit, and for an instant he fixed you with that same smoldering, intense gaze that you used to know so well. A familiar tingle rushed down your spine.

You nodded yet again, falling silent under his unnerving stare. The Razor you’d known never smiled this much. “Well, um… I guess I should head out then. My companions will be waiting for me. It was great to see you, Razor.”

As you turned to leave a large, rough hand grabbed your wrist. “What’s the hurry?” He rubbed his thumb across your skin.

There was little you could do to pull away. Not that you wanted to.

“No hurry, just…” You scrambled for an excuse. “I figured you must be busy, having Greed Island players showing up and challenging you for that one card.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” There was laughter in his voice. “I don’t get many visitors. You’re fine.” His grip loosened, allowing you to pull your hand away.

Being in such close proximity to Razor was beginning to have an unexpected effect on you. It had been years since you’d last seen him, but that overpowering, all-encompassing pull he had on you was just as strong as it had been back then. Heat radiated from his body; the slightly musky smell of sweat from his earlier exertion crept into your nostrils, triggering long-dormant olfactory memories of being pinned beneath him and wrapped around his cock. You shivered imperceptibly and turned to leave, eager not to see your companions, but to escape the crushing pressure of want.

“Hey…” Suddenly Razor was behind you, hands running up and down your arms. “Do you really wanna leave so bad?”

You closed your eyes, unsure of what to say.

“If you really want to leave, go ahead. I’m not gonna stop you.”

Wouldn’t he? You hesitated. You knew exactly what would happen if you stayed… and yet, why not? Why shouldn’t you? After all, it’s not like you hadn’t before.

“You got someone waiting for you at home, is that it?” Razor was slipping back into his common vernacular, slowly regressing into the hardened criminal you used to know.

“N-no.” You shook your head. “Nothing like that.”

“Well?” Razor pressed up against you, rubbing his already-prominent clothed erection against your ass. A decade of presumable celibacy had evidently had quite an effect. “I seem to remember we never got to say goodbye properly.” He dipped down to kiss the crook of your neck.

You tiled your head to the side to provide him with better access, the last of your resolve gone. “It’s not my fault you got yourself arrested.”

Razor chuckled, a deep, growling laugh. “You have some nerve. Coming into my territory, challenging me, losing… and you have the guts to sass me?” He nipped at your skin.

“What are you going to do about it?” You let your head fall back against his chest as you rubbed your ass against him, feeling him grow even harder. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in his touch, and suddenly you weren’t in the middle of a gym on Greed Island; years hadn’t passed, Razor was just as he was before. Wetness began to pool between your legs.

“You wanna know?” He slid a hand under your shirt, fondling your breasts.

“Razor, I will sass you as much as I want.” You smiled, arching into his touch.

“Better not.” He was really grinding against you now, rock-hard. His shorts were strained beyond capacity.

“You don’t have the balls,” you taunted, reaching behind you to palm him through the thin fabric of his shorts. God, how were they containing him?

It happened quickly. In a flurry of motion, Razor roughly pinned you against him with a hand against your abdomen and pushed your skirt up around your waist. He rubbed you through your panties before forcing them down. You squirmed against him, unused to the direct contact. It had been a while for you as well.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to follow through?” Razor shifted behind you, sliding his shorts down to reveal his cock. He rubbed it against your entrance. “Good thing you’re already wet, Princess. Or else you’d be in for a hard time.” Gripping your hips, he lifted you to line your entrance up with his cock. You stood on your toes, struggling for balance as he entered you.

Razor pushed into you with one hard thrust, tearing a small cry of surprise from you. A hand placed squarely between your shoulder blades bent you forward at the waist; you were sure you would fall, but Razor grabbed your wrists, holding them back for leverage.

You bit your lip to keep from crying out when Razor began to slam into you. He was just as relentless as you remembered, perhaps more so. You unclenched and clenched your fists, desperately hoping to hold onto something, anything… Razor’s iron grip was all that kept you from toppling forward; the precariousness of the situation made a coil of apprehension and excitement tighten in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah!” You cried out when Razor slammed against your g-spot. “What if—w-what if—”

“What if someone comes in?” His voice was little more than a growl as he continued to fuck into you. “Let them.”

Your reply died in your throat when he hit your g-spot again.

“Missed this, huh?” Razor asked smugly when you began to moan and whine. “God, I forgot how sweet your cunt is.” He brought your arms behind your back with a harsh jerk, holding both of your wrists in one large hand.

You yelped in surprise when Razor brought his free hand forward and shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded, stalling his thrusts and grinding against you. “Good girl.” He withdrew his fingers and began to thrust into you again.

Moments later a slick, wet digit pressed against your asshole. You let out a shocked squeal when it pushed past the ring of muscle. “O-oh!” Razor’s finger was thick, its girth stretching you to the point of discomfort. He pressed down while angling his hips slightly upwards, his cock slamming against the wall of your back passage. The sudden intensification of the stimulation brought you to orgasm within seconds; you whimpered as your knees began to buckle beneath you.

Had Razor not released his grip on your wrists to catch you around your waist, you would have surely crumpled to the floor. He continued to thrust into you, holding you up with an arm around your waist as you struggled to suppress mewls of overstimulation. After a few more thrusts he came with a deep groan, filling you with his release.

You whined when his finger left your ass and his cock slipped from your cunt; the emptiness was suddenly overwhelming. As soon as Razor unwraps his arm from your waist, your legs give out; you slowly sink to the floor, a panting, sweaty, sloppy mess. It had been years since anyone had fucked you like that.

Razor, on the other hand, appeared none the worse for wear. His normal easy smile returned to his face; he’d pulled his shorts back up while you were still lost for words.

“Good?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel he’d pulled off of a nearby pull-up bar.

“You have no idea.” You grimaced, suddenly acutely aware of just how used and grimy you felt after everything. “You got a shower in this gym?”

“Yeah.” Razor pointed in its general direction. “I’ll show you. I’ll grab you a towel too.”

“Thanks.” To be honest, you hadn’t had the opportunity to bathe in hot water for a while.

“You know,” there was a hint of playfulness in Razor’s voice. “You can always come to my room and shower there. More privacy. Nicer soap.”

“Oh?” You arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to join?”

His smile widened. “Is that an invitation?” An arm snaked around your waist as he leant down to kiss you for the first time in ten years.

You hummed appreciatively as he pulled away. “If you can spare the time.”

“I told you,” he kissed you again, drawing you close. “I don’t get many visitors.”

#smuttastic #razor hxh

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blazing-emblem · 4 years

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I finished the Black Eagles route!!

Ok this one has a couple stuff regarding the ending, so those are under the Read More. I also tagged spoilers in case Tumblr fails to hide it.

First off, this run was with male Byleth, and I gave him glasses. He looks so damn fine with glasses!

And yes,I married Jeritza XD Ashen Demon x Death Knight is the A E S T H E T I C Power Couple

This run went so much smoother than my Lions route in terms of power and knowing what to do now! My units were more specialized instead of trying to get their skills to be around the same grade. I looked ahead of the classes, and planned which ending class I wanted my units to be this time, and it helped a lot

Speaking of power, I knew that Eagles had a short route, so I grinded hard in maps to get the supports, and my units were +20 levels higher than the enemies every chapter battle. But it paid off in the last map because it wasn’t so annoying to get to Rhea

Speaking of grinding, I WAS TOLD THAT IT WAS BETTER TO GO ON TEA PARTIES AND GIVE GIFTS TO RAISE SUPPORTS QUICKLY o)--( I’m dumb ^^;;

Since I used some renown to raise my Professor level quickly, I was always left with some action points in some free days, and I used those to have tea parties with Jeritza, and whoever else was slow to support with me. NEW GAME+ IS SO HELPFUL

Linhardt, my OP healer, I love you and your clutch Psychic heal. Thank you for saving many of my units’ butts

Caspar and Alois, my strong, brawler bois <3

Caspar is the lovable, sunshine idiot. I love him. Son material

I did not have a single flier in this run, and it was a huge pain in some maps

I got really scared to use the Relics because I didnt want to find a way the materials to repair them again, so I put them in the inventory, only planning to use them in important fights. I ended up never using them at all, even in the last fight ^^;;;

RANDOLPH AND METODEY AND LADISLAVAAAAA

Again, so many cute supports! I love many of Bernie’s, and Hubert’s and Linhardt’s were amusing

I was surprised with a handful of endings the game gave me! Dorothea/Hanneman, Ferdinand/Manuela, Edelgard/Linhardt, and Hubert/Petra were the ones that made me go what??? I even checked their partner levels, and that wasnt who was in the top three for each of them?? I wanted Edelgard/Dorothea or Dorothea/Manuelaaaaa. Hubert/Shamir was interesting too but...didnt get that lol

Not hating on the endings I got; just surprised. The endings are pretty cute still! Oh man, now I’m here thinking about Edelgard/Linhardt dynamic. Imagine her coming to Linhardt about her secrets...taking naps with him when she wants to take a break from being an emperor...

Speaking of cute supports!! Ferdinand x Flayn was so adorable! BUT SHE LEFT ME AFTER THE TIMESKIP ;A; so I gotta wait for when I replay the routes again and do a recruiting run to see more of their cuteness orz

I was rooting for Hubert/Shamir, but in the end, Shamir got her lone ending. WHICH I FOUND SAD because this was the route where Catherine doesnt get recruited. They married in Blue Lions, so even in another route, Shamir still loves her partner and chose to not find anyone else after her death AAAAAAAAAA

Speaking of Blue Lions, IT HURT SO MUCH KILLING THEM!! Playing Black Eagles immediately after that route HUUUURRRTTTSSSSS!! MY BAAABIESSS

Ok this is the area that contains some important info...maybe, but hiding it still just in case

Rhea is a creepy lady... The way she just fawns over Byleth because they have Sothis in them is...*shivers* But I didn’t hate her. UNTIL SHE CALLED ME A PIECE OF TRASH FOR SIDING WITH EDELGARD!? AND SHE KEPT CALLING THEM A THIEF EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS THE ONE WHO “GAVE” BYLETH THE REMAINS OF SOTHIS?

That was phenomenal voice acting from Cherami Leigh though. Big kudos to her!

I honestly thought Edelgard was gonna turn into Hegemon this route too, and fight Rhea in the last map. Very disappointed that that didn’t happen. She could have been a huge fire power on our side

Since Claude survived the Blue Lions route, I couldn’t bear to kill him in this route, SO I SPARED HIM!! The only main character that I left alive! And I am so glad I spared him... Sorry everyone, but best boi gotta live

When Byleth’s hair returned to their original color in the end, it was such a surprise!! All the fanart with any ending with the Eagles always depicts minty Byleth! I liked it

So Rhea used Sothis’ crest stone on Byleth’s heart...but I dont understand why Byleth still lives without it. I thought they were born with a still heart, but the crest stone let them live. So how did their heart start beating without it

Also it was funny that Edelgard thought that Byleth was dead because they didn’t have a heartbeat, even though...that was their natural state

I felt like we could have had an epilogue map where the Eagles fight Those Who Slither in the Dark. I wanna kick Edelgard’s uncle’s butt! REVENGE FOR DAD!!!

#thea rambles #thea plays 3h #this is a long rambling...#3h spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fire emblem three houses spoilers #spoilers

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silvokrent · 5 years

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The Prices We’ve Paid - 1

In the aftermath of the Fall, Emerald starts to realize she might be out of her depth.

There were days—once far and few in-between, but now becoming increasingly more frequent—when Emerald was relieved the entirety of their plans didn’t hinge solely on Cinder’s confidence.

Not that the surety was unwarranted. Tonight had been the culmination of months spent carefully vetting and recruiting numbers to their cause, compromising the kingdom’s defenses, theft and sabotage and infiltration and death of a magnitude that Remnant hadn’t seen in nearly a century. Cinder had been meticulous in leaving little to chance, and in the end, they succeeded.

Or very nearly, anyway.

Emerald struggled not to lose her footing on the gnarled root of a tree, nearly-overbalancing to compensate for the weight borne between them. Beside her, Mercury faltered in his pace, pausing long enough to readjust the limp form braced by his shoulder. The light of the shattered moon and distant flames illuminated the sheen of sweat on his face, and the haunted, hunted look he did little to hide. She never thought she would have found herself missing his obnoxious arrogance or haughty disdain for everyone around him, if only because it was something familiar. Anything would have been better than the sobering panic he wore, that she was sure perfectly mirrored her own.

“We’re close to the extraction point, right?” Emerald asked, when the silence became too much. Well, no, silence wasn’t the right word. Even with all the distance they’d put between themselves and the city wall, she could still hear the screams of people and the spine-chilling ululations of the Grimm.

Mercury pulled out his scroll and thumbed through a mess of readouts on the screen. “It’s about thirty meters northeast from here. Rendezvous’s gonna be a spot in Forever Fall. Figure it should only be another ten minutes.” He scowled. “Probably not though, seeing as we’re sort of inconvenienced at the moment. We could get there faster if we just—”

“Don’t,” Emerald snapped.

“For fuck’s sake, Emerald, look at her.” It was kind of hard not to, with her adrenaline-overdosed brain jumping back and forth between spellbound morbid curiosity and gut-churning disgust. Emerald made an effort to keep her eyes fixed ahead, determinedly ignoring Mercury’s glare. “She’s slowing us down. And if by some miracle the Grimm don’t pursue us, she’s lost a lot of blood. Who knows if there’s anything left to even save.”

Her pulse jumped in her throat. “The Grimm aren’t going to go after three people while there’s still the entirety of Vale,” Emerald said in what she hoped passed for a reasonable tone. “And—” She weighed her options against all the things she actually wanted to say (she’s our leader, we wouldn’t be here without her, we’ve survived worse, abandoning her is wrong) and decided that appealing to Mercury’s self-interest would get her the results she wanted. “What happens when we show up without her? What happens when she finds out we made that call?”

A vicious satisfaction surged through her as Mercury, however discreetly, flinched.

“We already lost our chance at getting the Relic. How forgiving do you think she’d be if she found out we lost the Fall Maiden, too?”

Very faintly, she could make out the sound of teeth grinding together.

In the end self-preservation won out, and to her relief Mercury didn’t argue. On some tacit agreement they resumed their trek in tense silence, with the only interruptions being the occasional grunt of exertion, the snap of a twig underfoot, or an incoherent noise of pain. Fortunately her theory held true and they moved through the shadows of the trees unaccosted, though it did little to quell the anxiety savagely beating against her ribs. The thoughts came unbidden, and Emerald tried (and failed) to not dwell on the very real possibility of Mercury’s words.

There had been a lot of blood. And in the pandemonium of the aftermath, they’d had little time to make a full assessment between digging through rubble and sprinting through the hysteria-induced crowds toward the outskirts of the commercial district. Were it not for the shallows puffs of air against the side of her neck, she could have forgiven him for assuming otherwise.

She could have, but the odds of that were up there with the ones of ripping off one of his prosthetic legs and proceeding to bludgeon him to death. For now, at least, he was keeping his spiteful cynicism to himself.

Her uneasy train of thought was interrupted by the sight of a dim glow in the gap of the trees.

Emerald stopped and gestured with her free arm in the direction of the light. After briefly consulting his scroll, Mercury nodded, and they pushed their way through the undergrowth.

During the final stages of preparation it had been a foregone conclusion that Atlas’ fleet would be too preoccupied with the White Fang, Grimm, and overridden mechs to pay mind to any lone airship that just so happened to blip on the edge of their radar. Despite this, Cinder had been loathe to let a getaway vehicle anywhere near her preparations, with the merest hint at a contingency plan from Torchwick nearly earning him a second-degree burn. To even suggest the need for one implied failure, an implication which Cinder did not take to kindly. It was only when Salem was consulted on the matter, and made it clear that retreat must be considered a possible outcome, did Cinder relent.

It made sense, really, when Emerald had tried to approach the issue from Cinder’s perspective. Contingency plans were a sign of ineptitude. That you didn’t posses the resolve or skill to succeed, that you openly acknowledged your inability to account for what could go wrong. Cinder had accounted for everything, and therefore nothing could go wrong.

A mutinous voice at the back of her mind (the one Mercury liked to mock whenever they were beset by boredom and passed the time by bickering) tried to empathize. Emerald had wanted to believe her. And as she’d watched from the rooftop—the wyvern perched atop Beacon Tower, stygian tar dripping from its wings and Cinder’s outstretched hand caressing its skeletal maw as the world burned below them—she had.

Their encumbered pace brought them to the edge of the small clearing where the airship idled. A seamless door slid open on the hull, pooling light on the ground ahead of them. Emerald squinted against the glare as a familiar silhouette stepped into view.

“Just because the CCT has fallen does not mean local communication was disrupted,” said Watts, by way of greeting. They’d only dealt with him a handful of times in the last year, as Cinder preferred to minimize her and her team’s interactions with him. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out why. Salem made sure to fill the ranks of her council with people of varying occupations and skillsets, and it had taken all of thirty seconds of listening to Watts talk before Emerald had filed him under the heading of Professional Bastard.

Of course it was their luck that he’d been assigned to extraction, in the event of a worst-case scenario.

Then again, he was apparently some sort of doctor, so maybe it was their luck.

Time to find out.

Mercury bristled. “Sorry, but it’s kind of hard to call ahead when we’re running and avoiding capture.”

“And whose fault is that, I wonder?” Watts said. He brushed his hands down the front of his overcoat, narrowed eyes peering into the darkness where he couldn’t see, but still heard them approach. “Were I not concerned with the impending consequences, I would congratulate you on the manner in which you failed. I suppose if you were going to waste our one chance at victory, then might as well do it with style. That was quite the lightshow. I think there were a few people in Mantle that didn’t go blind just now.”

“That wasn’t us,” Emerald said, an edge creeping into her voice. She took another step toward their escape, desperately trying to ignore the stab of agitation at the seconds ticking by. “We need to get onboard and leave. Cinder is—”

“Ah, yes. Our fledgling Maiden. I did wonder how she fared.” He had the audacity to smirk. Were she not making the effort to fight off exhaustion, Emerald might have considered the risk worth striking him. Agitation and fear were quickly fraying what little patience she had left, and if Mercury’s clenched fist was any indicator, consequences be damned was going to become a battle cry very soon. “Our lady invested quite the time and resources into her training. It would be a shame to learn that it had all been for naught.”

“Then see for yourself,” Mercury spat. At last he stepped forward and pulled Emerald with him into full view, carrying with them the third member of their party.

The emotion slid from Watts’ face.

“Bring her onboard and set her down, now,” he ordered.

“What did you think we were trying to tell you?” Mercury’s barbed remark was predictably ignored, not that Emerald really cared. Watts had already disappeared to the front of the ship by the time they’d hastened Cinder’s limp form onto one of the benches by the wall.

For the first time since they’d hauled Cinder from the wreckage, Emerald was able to get a clear, unobstructed look at the extent of her injuries. It occurred to her, somewhere, in the region of her brain not preoccupied with gaping like a fish, that a lifetime spent in poverty had given her a pretty great front row seat to the unflinching horrors of the world. What people looked like as they starved to death, what people smelled like as untreated wounds turned gangrene from medical neglect. What people sounded like as they died in anonymity, begging for help from passersby that would avert their gaze and double their pace. The familiarity had taken on a role reversal in recent months, courtesy of Cinder’s benefactors, and Emerald could now say that she’d perpetrated quite a few of those horrors herself, with the odd homicide or two thrown in for good measure.

A lifetime of horror had made Emerald assume she was immune to the worst of it by now, only to realize she needed to seriously update her definition of worst.

The arm was the most immediate and visually arresting. Halfway down the appendage, just above where the elbow should have been, hung strips of mangled flesh. Debris and bone fragments sullied the wound, darkening the blood that had begun to trickle around the remains of the limb.

There was a sudden, plummeting sensation in her midriff, accompanied by a bout of nausea Emerald very nearly failed to suppress. Not wanting to vomit on her boss, she decided to focus on Cinder’s face instead.

And immediately regretted it.

A mutilated stump was a lot to take in, but at least it still looked like a limb. Cinder’s face was all but unrecognizable. Skin had been asymmetrically burned away into a topographic map of red-and-white flesh that furrowed here, peaked there, as if it were suspended in the process of melting. Where an eye should have been was a congealed mass of raw flesh and fluid that pooled into the socket. Only the right side of Cinder’s face remained unmarred, comparatively speaking. Amidst the pallor of the skin her remaining eye shone wetly, the pupil dilated to a pinprick, unfocused on the people crowding above her.

“She looks…bad,” Emerald managed, when her vocal cords finally remembered how to work. As far as descriptors went it was pretty underwhelming, and judging by Mercury’s unimpressed frown, he agreed.

“She looks nearly dead,” Mercury corrected her, rather unnecessarily at that. Okay, it was more accurate than “bad,” but it still made Emerald want to punch him. Common sense quickly banished the impulse from her thoughts. Both of them were low on Aura and running on fumes, and getting into an impromptu fistfight on a moving aircraft probably wasn’t the smartest plan she could’ve come up with. Instead, she focused on trying to drag air through her lungs, wincing at the burning sensation from the smoke she’d inhaled. The gesture did enough to clear her mind though, and bring with it another intrusive thought.

“Why hasn’t she said anything?” Torn between the desire to touch and the instinctive fear of Cinder lashing out at any physical contact, Emerald hovered nearby, arms folded over her chest. “She made noise when we transported her, so she’s definitely conscious. I think.”

Mercury frowned, this time in thought rather than contempt. “It could be some injury we’re not seeing.”

“Perhaps if you moved,” said a voice from behind, “I could find out why.”

In the time between configuring the flight controls and rejoining them, Watts had donned a blue-gray lab coat and retrieved a pinstriped physician’s bag. With an impatient shooing gesture he strode past them and set it down on the benchside table.

“Formalities first. Cinder”—Watts leaned forward—“if you’re alert then I need you to prove it. Can you speak?”

His only answer was a faint, rasping breath.

“I assumed as much.” A critical eye swept lengthwise over his patient as he removed a pair of latex gloves from his bag. “Not that it particularly matters, but in the event you can still hear me, I assume you’re consenting to whatever treatment methods I deem necessary.”

She could've imagined it, but Emerald thought she saw Cinder’s chest rise and fall a little faster.

Mercury, meanwhile, had made himself comfortable leaning against a nearby wall, close enough that he could still watch the proceedings. It was a deceptively casual gesture that to the untrained eye would have given the impression of indifference. It was also a complete lie and fooling no one, so Emerald really didn’t see why he bothered. Couldn’t he at least pretend to look worried?

Then, to her surprise, he spoke up: “You’re not seriously going to perform surgery on her now, are you? Right here? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“More or less dangerous than leaving her to hemorrhage everywhere?” Watts asked dryly. He arched a slender brow at Mercury. “If you’re squeamish then by all means, you’re welcome to leave the room.”

“Leave the—? It’s an airship with one room and a cockpit.”

“Precisely,” Watts drawled. He slipped a surgical mask over his face, but not before Emerald caught a flash of teeth. “So I suggest you get over yourself rather quickly.”

There was a pause as he removed another piece of equipment from his bag, before he added, almost as an afterthought: “And to answer your earlier question, no. I’m merely seeing that she arrives in stable condition. We’ll operate upon our return.”

That got her attention. Emerald exchanged a wary glance with Mercury, before curiosity got the better of her. “You actually never said where we were—”

That was exactly when Cinder decided she’d had enough, and with an incoherent cry slammed the heel of her foot into Watts’ ribs.

The blow caused him to stagger backward, although it lacked any of the usual strength behind it. The most it achieved was creating a meter gap between them. With a swear Watts closed the distance, sidestepping a second kick aimed for his head and pinning her with the weight of his arm in the same fluid motion. The proximity caused Cinder to thrash harder, teeth bared in a snarl.

It took Emerald a stupidly long moment to realize she was still standing there, occupying about the same level of uselessness as Mercury, who hadn’t even vacated his spot by the wall. Uncertainly she took a step forward, wanting to intervene but not sure how, or even who, to help.

It was a decision that became irrelevant a second later, as Watts had finally managed to wrestle what looked like a syringe out of his bag. Before either of them had the chance to react, he’d stretched out her intact arm and jabbed the needle into the skin. An eerie, cold sensation, like the kind Emerald got whenever in the presence of Grimm, settled in her gut as she watched the fire fade from Cinder’s remaining eye. Her face slackened into an emotion that she couldn’t read (not that it was necessarily a good one), and with a final gasp the tension bled from her body.

Cautiously, Watts straightened to his full height. He collected himself with a quiet exhale, and then scowled at the copious blood stains that had soaked their way into his coat.

“I suppose I’ll have to dry clean this,” he announced to no one in particular.

Emerald must have been telegraphing her thoughts pretty hard, so she didn’t exactly jump so much as dramatically fidget when Watts answered her unspoken question: “That was a general anesthetic. It should keep her unconscious for…well, for however long I decide. If nothing else, the silence is an improvement.”

Prick.

Weighing the pros and cons, Emerald crept a little closer, while maintaining an apprehensive amount of space. It wasn’t so much a lack of faith in the drug so much as it was a lot of faith in Cinder. And the reasonably healthy paranoia of nothing short of a rhino tranquilizer keeping her boss down. A paranoia that may or may not have been stoked a little by the sight of Watts touching her arm and fastening a tourniquet to the bicep.

“Why did she do that?” Not that Emerald blamed Cinder in the slightest. “How was she even able to do any of that?”

“You’d think bleeding to death would take a lot out of you," Mercury added. Emerald shot him a glare.

“It does, or hadn’t you noticed her inability to fight?” What would have ordinarily been a derisive remark sounded almost pleasantly neutral—or rather, what passed for “pleasantly neutral” from Watts, if only because his focus was on the windlass he was torqueing against her skin. “That little outburst certainly clarified a few things in retrospect. I suspected this would be the case, if the earlier unresponsiveness and confusion hadn’t been dead giveaways—oh dear, that was rather insensitive, wasn’t it?”

If she concentrated hard enough, Emerald could picture the smirk beneath the surgical mask.

“Clarified what, exactly?” Mercury prompted, after a beat of silence.

Watts clipped the windlass into place and jotted something down on the strap. “Her current condition, which lines up with the other symptoms she’s been exhibiting since you dragged her onto the ship.” He reached down and secured Cinder’s wrist with one hand, pressing two of his fingers against the skin. He lapsed into a momentary silence before releasing the appendage, and inscribing something on a holographic tablet with a stylus. “Reduced temperature to extremities, pale complexion and clamminess, pulse one hundred and thirty beats per minute, heightened anxiety and panic, respiratory rate estimated at thirty breaths per minute.” He tsk’d. “Even without the measurements for systolic and diastolic pressure it’s safe to infer she’s in the early onset of hypervolemic shock. That would place blood loss at…” Watts tapped the end of the stylus to his chin. “About a liter and a half, give or take.”

“What?” Emerald lurched forward. Out of her periphery she saw Mercury’s expression go blank. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, quite.” Watts’ eyes didn’t stray from whatever was so fucking fascinating on his screen. “Do bear in mind that she’s lost an arm. Amputations tend to be rather bloody affairs.”

“Then do something about it!” Mercury snapped. For a moment, Emerald was taken aback by the venom in his voice, only to belatedly remember that she’d convinced him that making sure Cinder didn’t die was in their best interest. Well, that was reassuring. In a messed-up sort of way.

“I am,” Watts said. Rather pointedly he set down the tablet and went about retrieving his supply bag. “The pressure I set in place is constricting the blood vessels. Not that it matters, seeing as her brachial artery was completely severed by whatever put her in this sorry condition. That's some good news, I suppose.”

“Good news?” Emerald made a strangled, indignant sound. “How is a severed artery good news?”

“Because it induces a process called vasospasm.” With an elastic snap Watts removed his gloves. “In any other circumstance that would be a problem, as it would lead to ischemia and tissue death. Here, it’s acting like a clamp and preventing the artery from hosing everything in blood. Factor in what I’ve already done to minimize blood loss, and dear Cinder shouldn’t be losing another liter any time soon.”

What should have been reassuring only dialed up Emerald’s stress to an eleven. It seemed to be a mutual sentiment, as Mercury didn’t resume his original post by the wall, but actually came to stand next to her. If Watts cared about having an audience then he didn’t show it, as he busied himself with swapping out a fresh pair of gloves and fetching a tube he’d left off to the side of the bench.

A thrill of revulsion and discomfort shot through her as Watts dabbed the ointment onto his fingers, and with obscene gentleness, began to massage it into the burns on Cinder’s face. Just the mere act of watching him touch her made Emerald want to do—something. Probably something dramatic and stupid and not at all helpful to their current predicament. In a vain effort to distract herself from the whooshing sensation in her gut, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

Thank the gods or pathetically good timing that Mercury decided at that moment to offer a distraction, in the form of what seemed like a fairly obvious question: “Look, I’m not going to pretend to know anything about medicine—”

“And yet you’re still talking,” Watts said.

“—but shouldn’t she be hooked up to IVs and crap? What about an oxygen mask?”

Weird how that was the thing that got Watts to stop, long enough to shoot the pair a withering look. “Does this look like a hospital to you?”

Only Mercury could make a talent of taking all the insolence in the world and packaging it into a single shrug.

“This model of airship is designed for fast transport, not medical intervention and treatment. The extent of what I can do is everything laid out before you.” He’d gone for a second application of the topical cream—Emerald could make out the words silver sulfadiazine on the label, though what that was or what it did she had no idea—and resumed rubbing it into the skin. “Once I have access to my equipment I can begin a blood transfusion, and get her on a saline drip. For now, we make do.”

Which wasn’t exactly great news, but Watts seemed to know what he was talking about, and it wasn’t like they had any other options. Mercifully he withdrew his hand and binned the soiled gloves.

“What about her Aura?” Emerald asked. “I know depleted Auras can take a while to recover, but they’re part of the healing process for us. Shouldn’t hers have started to come back?”

It didn’t sound nearly as reasoned-out as it had in her head, and Emerald might have been grasping at straws by that point. She’d hit a profoundly new degree of desperate if she was relying on conversations with Watts for reassurance

But at least he was humoring her, even if the scornful eye-roll indicated that such questions were beneath him and a clear waste of his time. “That depends on the extent of the injuries, which in her case are rather impressive, if you can describe incompetence as such.”

A hand shot out and grabbed Emerald by the shoulder. Thankfully Watts missed Mercury’s warning headshake. With a long exhale Emerald extricated herself from his grip and stepped back.

“Until her body has healed up a bit on its own, her Aura won’t be regenerating any time soon.” Then, to her surprise, Watts pocketed his scroll and turned to face them, arms braced against the bench. “Of course, I could expedite that process if I knew what caused it.”

Emerald briefly faltered under his scrutiny and shot a helpless glance at Mercury. “We…actually don’t know what happened,” she answered, after a brief internal debate. “She was like that when we found her.”

“Oh?” he drawled. “Do tell.”

“There’s nothing really to tell.” Mercury crossed his arms. “We were the first people to get there. There weren’t any signs of what did that to her. Cinder was delirious and sort of confused, and that dragon-Grimm was turned to stone.”

Watts’ eyes narrowed, and he inclined his head to the side. Emerald didn’t like the sudden interest.

“And her assailant?” he asked. “Had they already fled?”

It took a second for her brain to connect his question with what she’d seen, and even then, Emerald really wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but it certainly wasn’t what they’d found. “There was another student—a girl who goes to Beacon. She was out cold when we got there. No injuries. At least, none we could see.”

“Not like we were taking the time to give her a full-body physical,” Mercury added. Though that hadn’t stopped him from kicking Ruby in the torso as they’d collected their half-conscious employer and scrambled back down the tower.

Whatever Watts thought of that, he didn’t say. There was an assessing quality to his expression as he gave them a precursory once-over. “Were either of you injured during the battle?”

“No,” said Mercury. Emerald shook her head.

“Good. Leave it that way.”

Emerald recognized a dismissal when she heard one, and frankly, she didn’t need to be told twice. That went double for Mercury, who wasted no time in staking out a corner of the ship that was relatively free of clutter, and with a grunt, prizing off Talaria. He’d produced a screwdriver from somewhere on his person (seriously, where was he hiding all these tools?) and began to make adjustments to his protheses. Watts, meanwhile, went about cleaning up his work station, discarding the facial mask and sanitizing any surfaces of blood.

Which left Emerald rather aimless. Down time hadn’t exactly been a thing during her childhood, with every moment spent pickpocketing strangers, stealing food, or looking for shelter. Her upgrade from homeless street rat to criminal accomplice hadn’t changed much there either, as she’d immediately been consulted on everything, from planning heists to acquiring assets. It was only during their undercover operation at Beacon she’d found herself with a sudden surplus of free time, and an overwhelming uncertainty of what to do with it, exactly.

Standing in the middle of the ship, Emerald realized she still hadn’t figured out what to do with it, and it was eating away at her nerves. The offer to help Mercury with maintenance momentarily crossed her mind, only to be discarded just as quickly. He would have thrown her off the airship just for bringing it up. And she’d rather jam scalpels into her eyes before she asked Watts if he needed a hand.

And so, with nothing better to do, Emerald began to pace the length of the ship.

It was on her fifteenth pass when Watts finally looked up from whatever he’d been doing by the bench. “You know,” he said, in a voice that went for impassive and fell a little short, “it’s going to be a rather long flight. You might consider getting some sleep.”

And stop annoying me. He didn’t voice that part. Not that he needed to.

“I’m not tired,” Emerald answered, only to be betrayed by the yawn she wasn’t quick enough to hide.

Watts’ lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk. “Clearly.”

Just the suggestion of sleep opened the floodgates for all the exhaustion of the past few hours, from wherever it had been conveniently stashed away until now. Brains were funny like that. “No, really, I’m fine. I don’t need to sleep.”

“Would you like a second opinion from a licensed physician?” Watts asked meanly.

Emerald turned to face him, and was struck by the sight of him standing by Cinder, another syringe in hand. Suspicion crowded out any previous fatigue. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take turns keeping an eye on her,” she offered, in what she hoped passed for nonchalance. “I could take the first watch.”

Watts studied her for all of three seconds before he let out a low chuckle. (This time, Emerald did jump.) “Do you honestly believe I spent the last hour patching up the little drama queen only to off her the second your eyes were closed?” He sneered. “For that matter, do you think either of you is in fit enough condition to stop me, even if I wanted to?”

Emerald really wished she had some clever insult to fire back with. That he’d seen right through her was making it a little hard to concentrate.

“I’m merely giving her another sedative, so she doesn’t wake up and try to put a hole in the ship.” Watts stroked his chin. “I couldn’t allow it in good conscience if you were deliberately neglecting your rest. Perhaps I could help with that.” He gestured ever-so-minutely with the syringe.

Message received. Emerald warily retreated a step or two back. The other implication in his words finally caught up to her, about patching Cinder up, and she spoke before she could stop herself. “So she’s really going to live?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“But you can fix her?” Emerald gestured to what was left of the arm, now obscured by some sort of tarp.

Watts heaved a sigh that was more theatrics than sincere. “If I wasn’t the most distinguished person in my field, some other hapless soul would be standing here, tending to this mess. Yes, I can fix her.”

A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding shakily left her.

“Now either find something useful to do or make yourself scarce. You don’t want to leave that choice up to me.”

“Em.”

Emerald turned to see Mercury regarding her with a look that, while not friendly, was a step up from his usual stick-up-the-ass MO. He appeared to be deliberating on something that he hadn’t yet come to regret, but was about to any moment.

Honestly, she really, really didn’t have time for this.

Before Emerald could say as much (along with a couple other mean things) Mercury reached a decision. Very awkwardly, he patted the spot next to him.

Emerald blinked.

Apparently she took too long for his liking, because he snorted and went back to tightening a bolt on one of the legs.

Much as she wanted to stand there and contemplate the universe and whatever planetary alignment was causing him to act like a decent person, sleep beckoned. On unsteady feet she trod over to the wall, and slid down to the floor next to Mercury. For a moment Emerald entertained the hilarious thought of using his shoulder as a pillow, but decided not to push her luck. She’d slept in worse conditions. A little discomfort was doable.

Very doable, in fact. She was out before she had the chance to think about the horrible neck pain that would be awaiting her when she woke up.

#rwby #rwby fics #rwby thought dump #the prices we've paid #emerald sustrai #mercury black #cinder fall #arthur watts #tw: amputation #tw: gore #tw: surgery #tw: burns #filling in the gaps for volumes 3 and 4 #my posts #i speak

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langwrites · 5 years

Text

Lang Plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses

So a while ago I said I was planning on playing the story routes in this order: Blue Lions, Black Eagles, Church of Seiros, and then Golden Deer.

The Golden Deer made a liar out of me.

So, here’s an approximation of What Happened During Verdant Wind.

So many spoilers below the cut, you guys. I do a lot of route comparisons.

Okay, I’ve been staring at the “which house do you want” selection screen for an embarrassing amount of time.

This shouldn’t be hard. I had a plan.

But no.

I clicked the Golden Deer, just like that. What the fuck, Claude. I blame you.

Immediately upon talking to this rop of students again, I can feel the difference in the social group from what the Lions were like. The latter were really a bunch of noble kids around their prince, and they felt really tight-knit. Classic Fire Emblem starter crew.

The Golden Deer is the fucking Scooby Gang.

First impressions of individuals:

Raphael, thank goodness, is the one character who absolutely has his shit in order. Sure, he’s bad at book work and thinks everything comes down to MUSCLES, but all of his emotional issues are handled by the time he arrives at Garreg Mach. He’s the brightest of sunshines.

Ignatz needs some more confidence in his art, and also I want to see his painting of Seiros. Now, if only both of his offensive stats and growths weren’t incredibly bad.

I was so close to making him my dancer. Just because he sure as hell wasn’t gonna be useful anywhere else.

Lorenz! I don’t like him. His haircut is a monstrosity.

Leonie! We are going. To be. Besties. Even though the timing of your support conversations are incredibly bad.

Marianne no please don’t be sad everyone loves you

Hilda is the greatest enabler I have ever seen. By which I mean she enables other people to do all her work for her.

Lysithea is going to have the last word with God. And especially he Death Knight.

And finally Claude! Teamwork makes the dream work, so obviously meme work does the same.

I’m sorry.

PRE-TIMESKIP

Mock battle! Marianne’s great and I love her and also the only healer oh god.

OKAY. I have access to New Game+ bonuses. What do I do first?

Immediately crank the Professor Level stat to max to avoid ever having to run short of activity points again.

Next, raise all skills I can’t easily get to at least Rank D+. HEAVY ARMOR IN PARTICULAR.

Third: Boost supports with people whose support ranks are an absolute pain in the ass to earn. Lookin’ at you, Rhea.

Also, put glasses on Byleth (named “Yuri” for this playthrough). Glasses are the bomb. I am the evil genius.

LEVEL GRINDING TIME.

It’s a lot harder with Blacksmith access being story-locked, but I can do this!

As a direct result, every single battle after this point is a complete curbstomp in my favor. Because the grind don’t stop.

I broke a lot more weapons than last time, though.

I will befriend Leonie and Ferdinand if it’s the last fucking thing I do. I will befriend everyone, and I will not get timeskip-locked out of supports! >:(

Ferdinand was my first recruit. Oh dear.

Okay, there are like five born cavaliers in this game. Leonie, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Sylvain, and I guess Dimitri if you’re on the right route.

Last time, Sylvain was a great paladin and a decent Dark Knight before he started getting one- or two-stat level ups for like thirty levels. Similarly, Dimitri was great until all his ultra-secret-awesome promotions didn’t use a fucking horse.

Contrast Leonie who, despite sitting out 99% of the game out of spite from me getting locked out of her support chain, went to endgame with a ten-level deficit and still rocked.

Ferdinand didn’t count since I failed to recruit him last time and he died. These two facts are directly related.

I didn’t use Lorenz at all; I recruited him to keep from having to kill him later.

This time, Lorenz straight-up sucks, Sylvain did the terrible level dance for like the entire game, and Dimitri’s not recruitable.

Contrast, again, Leonie. Her support chain with the player character is hot garbage, but she plowed through most of the game as a mainstay of my team and made it to Bow Knight first out of anyone.

Bernadetta and Ashe as Bow Knights don’t even come close to being as durable as she is, except for Ashe’s absolutely bananas Resistance. 29?! WHY?!

And Ferdinand is also awesome. His only real weak point is Resistance, but he doesn’t need it. He dodge-tanks everything, is faster than Leonie, and has two Saints’ relics he unknowingly stole from Seteth.

He still talks in MLA format, though.

I started putting off recruiting people so I wouldn’t have to level-grind them up to par with the rest of my team.

But if these people wanna join, of course I’m saying yes.

Lord Lonato’s rebellion and Miklan yoinking the Lance of Ruin feel way less relevant on a Golden Deer playthrough than on a Blue Lions one. None of the Herd really know who the hell these people are.

I say that despite having already recruited Sylvain for this playthrough and deploying him in the relevant level. He wasn’t treated as there by the game’s preamble cutscenes.

At least the Holy Mausoleum stuff feels more...handled? Claude actually asks questions about rebellion and about the “assassination plot,” where Dimitri didn’t really.

OKAY SO there’s this whole plot thing where Flayn goes missing for a month. With the Blue Lions, this is handled like a manhunt. Dimitri’s seriousness about the issue rubs off on everyone except Sylvain, and Felix actually correctly identifies the culprit almost instantly. He doesn’t know he’s done it, though, because basically everyone is just throwing out accusations. Manuela is the real MVP.

CONTRAST THE DEER. The very first meeting reads like a Scooby Doo episode, when they’re piling up clues and throwing out suggestions like the gang of goofball teenagers they are. Claude’s got this group running like Persona 4′s Investigation Team. None of them are jaded or frantic, they’re just doing this.

Why did Rhea entrust the investigation to a herd of teenagers.

Anyway, the rest proceeds as usual.

I don’t know why the game tries to drop the same set of hints for each route. “OoooowoooooOOOOoooo, your house leader might be the FLAME EMPEROR.”

The Flame Emperor wears heels. And is still too short to be either Claude or Dimitri. Especially Dimitri. Who the fuck let this kid get so tall.

The only real result of all this bullshit is that my wyvern-riding sniper of doom is not available during the first map where Yuri personally beat the Death Knight into the ground.

Which, by the by, was hilariously cathartic.

It doesn’t exactly matter, since the only unit who can make real use of the Dark Mage and Dark Bishop classes is unrecruitable, but bragging rights.

Remire Village’s drama is about as bad while playing as the Golden Deer. One of the foreshadowing cutscenes, though is excellent:

Claude actually finds a book that depicts The Immaculate One before its debut, only to have it confiscated by Seteth and learn that it wasn’t a library book at all; it belonged to “Tomas.” Like, all of his suspicions--which he shares with the player--start lining up. Censorship! Monsters! Sword of the Creator! What the hell is going on here??

Dimitri’s version of the cutscene involves him being caught investigating Lord Arundel by the player and Sothis. Which--since his route doesn’t meaningfully deal with the Morlocks faction aside from steamrolling them as incidental opponents--seems kinda useless.

Kicked the Death Knight into submission again out of spite.

Sylvain was useful! Mostly because I had him sit there and distract the incidentals while Claude and Lysithea cleaned house, but still!

Claude is the only lord character who seems to understand that the transforming Morlock faction probably needs to be taken more seriously. For the remainder of Part One, no one does so.

Rhea you’ve got some ‘splainin to do.

Marianne’s my team’s dancer this time. She’s a sweetheart. She seemed happy to be asked and to pursue the lessons, and being able to use Physic is a good trait in someone who’s nearly always going to be waaaaay behind the rest of the group.

Dad-stabbing happened.

Again.

Boop boop Solon’s dead.

Again.

Dear diary: I learned the definition of irony and set the Flame Emperor on fire.

I kid.

But Claude took her out in one completely overpowered shot, because crits are a thing, Flame Emperor class skills don’t reduce damage enough to survive it, and his Dex stat is through the fucking roof. And he was on a wyvern at the time because fuck it, why not.

Claude’s reaction to all of this is a minor letdown compared to the fully-rendered cutscene in the last route.

This would become something of a trend--taking out OP bosses with unexpected critical hits.

I didn’t expect to like Lorenz and now I do. How.

This is hilarious simply because he seems to be the only character that Mercedes hates. What the fuck, man.

Once again, Edelgard invades! Once again, I drop someone unexpected on her head!

Not really. It was Yuri.

Yuri does the timeskip shuffle and we’ll see everyone again after a nap.

FIVE YEARS LATER.

Aw, Claude was waiting for Yuri to show up. Adorable.

The post-meetup fight is actually harder than it was in the BL route, despite excessive level-grinding. This is due to three factors:

Claude is automatically on a wyvern, meaning that he has inherent class vulnerability to archers on a map with at least five of them. And less range than they did, for some fucking reason.

Lorenz and Ignatz started out on the same corner of the map and both of them are shitty offensive units who could barely kill a mage between them. (Neither of Ignatz’s offensive stats cracked 20 for another thirteen levels.)

I don’t have Ashe and his personal skill Locktouch, and nobody started with a Chest Key or Door Key, which meant I had to keep various enemies alive long enough to steal all of their stuff. And the enemy item drops came up one short of the number of chests on the map. I want my stuff, dammit.

LET’S MAKE A SCENE.

Randolph, as a boss in Verdant Wind, did not get any better at figuring out when he’s outmatched. Therefore, I killed him with Raphael again.

At least he straight-up died this time.

Claude didn’t even get to set the damn place on fire.

Ingrid is turning out to be way better of a unit this time than she was last time. She’s a little slower, but a lot stronger.

FELIX, WHERE THE FUCK WAS ALL THIS STRENGTH HIDING LAST TIME. YOU’RE TEN POINTS AHEAD OF THE GUY WHO HAS STORY-BASED SUPER STRENGTH.

AND SPEED.

Iiiiiiiiit’s JUDITH!

She only shows up on one map in the entire Azure Moon route, and that’s a damn shame. She’s so cool in Verdant Wind.

A lord-class character who isn’t also a Lord! WOO!

Also her spies are better than anybody’s apparently.

I am choosing to believe that because Ingrid’s family is related to Judith’s, her badassery in this route is the direct result of meeting her distant cousin and absorbing badass radiation.

There’s something funny about having to pull one over on Lorenz’s dad to get anything done. The Great Bridge falls not to power, but Claude baiting Count Gloucester’s entire army to be somewhere else. (FEAR THE DEER.)

As a result, Ladislava dies alone. (As opposed to taking Ferdinand with her due to plot shenanigans.)

Lysithea and Ferdinand’s paralogue was really quite sad, for all that the only named guy who died was deeply unsympathetic. Ferdinand’s dad was an asshole, but he wasn’t the asshole for this particular scenario, and now both of his parents are gone. :(

Felix...hasn’t heard from his dad in a while. Worrying.

Oh, and Caspar’s uncle is still dead, in case we were keeping track of that.

Dorothea’s happier with Ferdinand alive. She did an impression of the Gatekeeper. :3

Gronder Field! FUCK.

I delayed playing this chapter for two solid days because I already knew what was gonna happen. Specifically: Edelgard gets injured and evacuated, and Dimitri drops of exhaustion just in time to get run through like ten times by the Emperor’s rearguard.

I eventually got my shit together enough to do the thing.

Marianne, Raphael, and Ferdinand went after the Kingdom army first. Leonie and Felix hung back and then reinforced them after taking out the archer on the central hill.

Claude killed everyone in the center of the map, which meant Edelgard set the entire hill on fire and if Bernadetta had not been recruited she would’ve burned to death there on the spot.

Ahem.

I sent Yuri to clear the entire left side of the map by herself.

She succeeded.

Raphael KO’d Dimitri with a luck Gauntlet crit, got blasted down to half health by a Warlock, then plunked ineffectually at Dedue until Marianne used her Levin Sword to sort him out.

Ferdinand killed everyone else on that side of the map.

Claude once again got the kill on Edelgard with a lucky crit, after Yuri had killed everyone else (up to and including the Demonic Beasts) single-handedly.

And then the plot moved on. Hilda’s account of Dimitri’s death was awful, Dedue’s reaction was worse, and off we go to punch Edelgard’s teeth in.

Again.

Annette’s dad is probably dead now.

Felix’s, too.

(I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THE DAD-STABBING.)

FOOOOOORT MERCEUS.

No matter how many times I think about it, Claude’s Almyran army reinforcements only make so much sense. How the hell and fuck did he manage to sneak an entire foreign army across a whole country to help with one battle?

But hey, they’re here, and Claude almost admitted the reason why he could do that. And the arrow greeting between him and Nader was cool.

(Spoiler: On top of being the Alliance’s leader, he’s also the crown prince of Almyra!)

The Death Knight had the gall to run from my army.

Yuri punched his ticket for the third time, which was not the charm.

And then Fort Merceus took an intercontinental ballistic missile and suddenly defeating the fort’s garrison feels a lot less triumphant.

Spot the miscolored eyes in this cutscene!

Welp. Fuck it, we’re off to Enbarr. Time to also punch Hubert this time! What a change of pace.

Eyyy, it’s the Enbarr map. I totally forgot to bring Seteth and Flayn along to check out the opera house, despite a whole bunch of characters talking about how they totally wanted to check that place out at some point. No room for deadweights in a map that has SO MANY ARCHERS.

Managed to get the special dialogue between Ferdinand and Hubert, and now I’m sad again.

Killed Hubert with Claude.

And because this is a two-part map, we immediately run off to chase down Edelgard. Due to the player army not doing a really weird 180 in the middle of the plot to kick Cornelia out of Fhirdiad, she didn’t have time to turn into a giant demonic thing! She just has WAY TOO MANY MAGES.

Strategy: Forget what Door Keys are, split the team by Avoid rating, and go to town.

Claude nearly died thanks to a critical mass of Gremories and Mortal Savants (and still, what the fuck is that name), but Dedue-as-guest-character didn’t, so I count that as a win! His defense was so high that the Giant Demonic Beast couldn’t even scratch him.

Claude, Petra, and Ingrid all having Alert Stance as a skill means dodge-tanking is hilariously easy.

Also, Ingrid was supposed to just take a chunk out of Edelgard’s HP bar for the final assault and ended up crit-killing her on the first attack. With a bog-standard silver lance.

Weird as the situation turned out, I guess that means one of Dimitri’s friends really did avenge him after saying they would. Even if Dedue was the only one who had a special cutscene about it.

We rescued Rhea! And the characters being happy about it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I want answers, same as Claude, and being forced to RP Yuri being oh so worried about Rhea’s safety felt incredibly disingenuous.

Claude actually yells at her over the “...” she seems to think is an explanation. THE TIME FOR SECRETS IS PAST.

WHY DID ALL THIS SHIT HAPPEN.

WE’VE BEEN AT WAR FOR FIVE YEARS.

A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE DIED HORRIBLY FOR BASICALLY NOTHING.

Incidentally, this is why I didn’t end up playing Edelgard’s route as planned. Her logic for kicking two other sovereign countries in the balls felt incredibly self-centered.

At least Catherine’s happy. Same with Alois and the rest of the Church crew.

They are soon going to be not as happy.

I’m filling out the ENTIRE support log before endgame. I have absolutely no idea what characters are going to end up together as a direct result.

The last conversation? Seteth and Manuela’s A+ support!

Because so many of the support conversations are romantic at A/A+ level, I guess we’ve managed to turn this ragtag army into a polyarmory.

Oh boy, Thales sure is a sore loser.

I say, as though I didn’t kill EVERYONE he knew over the course of an hour and also split his skull open under Seteth’s axe. His racism would have keeled his ass over before death set in.

That sure is a ICBM.

GOD DAMMIT RHEA, THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A Q&A SESSION AFTER THIS.

WHY DOES EVERYONE WHOSE JOB IS EXPOSITION UP AND DIE.

Meanwhile: THE UBER-DEAD PEOPLE.

Claude, your route is batshit. What is this genre anymore?!

I wanna point out that, despite seeing Rhea/Seiros do the dragon thing, the player character never told Claude what the fuck that was about. I feel like one of the first things I would have done after the class reunion would be going, “By the by, did anyone else notice the fucking dragon?!” WHO IS ALSO THE POPE???

Bah.

ANYWAY. Looooong-overdue exposition time!

I notice that Rhea didn’t out Seteth or Flayn, which was nice of her.

Claude, she can turn into a fucking dragon. I don’t think immortality is that far from being plausible.

GOD DAMMIT NEMESIS, CAN YOU FUCK OFF FOR TEN MORE MINUTES.

Uuuuuuugh fine, fuck everything, I’m putting your head on a pike.

CLAUDE, THE SWORD OF THE CREATOR LOOKS LIKE A SPINE.

OF COURSE IT’S MADE OF BONES. A BUNCH OF THE HEROES’ RELICS MOVE ON THEIR OWN!

The frantic music is not helping.

Time to kill a bandit king.

“My flabber is completely gasted by now.” Okay, that made me laugh.

Nemesis’s boss mechanic is pretty neat. To kill him at all, you need to kill all of the minibosses in the level and take down his friendship-based-plot-armor.

Or it would be, if I didn’t already make a habit of steamrolling everyone else on the field before tackling the boss at the end.

CUTSCENE.

Cutscene lesson: “Fuck honor duels.” It’s time for CHAIN SWORD LIMBO.

Claude, your bow shoots LASERS. SINCE WHEN.

Also getting kicked across the field by a dude twice his size didn’t seem to actually affect his mood much.

Awww, Yuri smiles now. Adorable. :D

AND THAT’S A WRAP.

Pairings: Yuri/Sothis (mostly to get them out of the way and see what everyone else would do), Claude/Petra, Raphael/Marianne, Catherine/Shamir, Lorenz/Mercedes, Ashe/Annette, Felix/Sylvain (bad end; the former straight up disappears), Seteth & Flayn wander off, Manuela/Dorothea, Lysithea/Linhardt (again), Leonie/Ignatz, Ferdinand/Bernadetta, Caspar/Hilda, and a couple of people are alone. Cyril gets to actually be a student after the story’s done, though!

Whew, that was fun. Gonna mix up the pairs a bit next time I play through the endgame and see what happens.

#fire emblem three houses #Lang plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses #Lang Plays #spoilers #long post #fire emblem

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