#<- look me in the eye and tell me imperialism and capitalism don't play a part in the unrelenting support that israel has gained
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You know what I find funny? That people across the world expect Palestinian people to just sit there and be bombed like good little victims and never retaliate against Israel because ‘thAt mAKes YOu JuST aS bAD as THem’ while not truly believing that Israel is actually doing anything bad because it’s so much better to be tragic pure victims with no ‘shameful and violent’ incidents behind them because that makes western media less likely to paint you as a tragic hero decades after Palestine is finely free and everyone can agree without being accused os anti semitism (despite the fact that Zionism =/= Judaism) that what Israel is doing is very bad actually. Which is genuinely hilarious because most of the people who are supporting Israel and condemning Palestinian for violent revolution are countries and states that gained freedom through violent revolution themselves.
Like, the USA, France, India, all of them had violent revolution to be where they are at today. And I know most of the anti-Palestinian movement is motivated by Islamophobia (not surprising considering the mentioned countries have some of the highest number of Islamophobic citizens) which also completely ignores the high Jewish and Christian Palestinians population might I add, but the genuine mental disassociation required to believe that violent revolution is not most often the only resolution left at the hands of the oppressed, especially after using violent revolution yourself to gain your freedom is not just hypocrisy but just downright evil.
Anyway, if you want to help Palestinians out and not be a genocide supporter, then please donate to relief funds and gofundmes so that the Palestinian people may one day again thrive in their ancestral land. Since I am not personally supporting any family from Palestine, I’m just going to link @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi vetted gaza fundraiser spreadsheet, please donate if you can and share if you cant.
#palestine#gaza#fundraisers#islamophobia#anti zionism#anti imperialism#and#anti capitalism#<- look me in the eye and tell me imperialism and capitalism don't play a part in the unrelenting support that israel has gained#not when the israeli people have literally said that they plan to raze gazan ground and build fucking luxury hotels over them for profit#which would then obviosly influence many of these states that support israel financially with import-export trade agreements#etc etc
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gloaming. yuri leclerc.
tags: fem!reader, reader has a personality and vague hints of backstory, sfw, pining
a/n: this is pretty self-indulgent. just fluff.
The night is quiet. Snow-covered fields stretch around you on all sides, leading to a distant tree line full of old, stubborn pines. The winter’s frost has grabbed tight hold of the land, blighting everything above the snow in a fine coating of frost. You can see your breath, like a brief curl of dragon’s smoke right in front of you.
One of the month’s many virtues is its distinct lack of insects. No crickets to chirp and no mosquitos to menace any patch of skin you dare leave uncovered. Not that you’ll have many in this weather. There’s quite a long way to go before winter ebbs into early spring. The patch of land Dimitri allotted you so generously after war’s end will remain in crystalline stasis until the season's turn.
In the distance, over the hills, you can see Fhirdiad’s towering silhouette. Its rough lines and pointed domes and salient spires cast an imperious picture on your east horizon. Did the people of the capital enjoy tonight’s midwinter festival? Did friends and family rush onto the crowded streets to partake in merriment and games and fantastic feasts? The streets played host to an astounding variety of breathtaking ice sculptures all around the noble districts. You wonder if any happened to feature the king.
You look away, back to the treetops painted frosty white, glistening in the eldritch dark of the night. The stone building you’ve chosen to occupy was once a manor and a military outpost, created to overlook these very vistas. The honorable members of House Rowe often utilized it to rest their heads when too exhausted too plod back to their hillside manners out west, leaving their gilded, cushioned carriages to wait in the front yard all evening. Heavens forbid they struggle for even a moment with a minor chill.
You shut your eyes and drink deep the wintry air. The icy sting in the air is sobering, granting you clarity. Dinner was spent alone, enjoying more mixes of wines and liquors than you would prefer to admit. Sometime along the way, you even attempted to wrangle the guards into drinking alongside you. It was at that point that one of them politely inquired if you would like to take a walk.
And now, the fresh air pricks at your numbing cheeks. The hazy remnants of your late night rendezvous with the liquor cabinet are battered back by winter’s embrace and your own irritation.
Across the countless times you have imbibed in your short life, you have discovered that being drunk is fun until it is decidedly not. It’s fun until you require your motor skills, fun until your stream of consciousness rolls into a riptide loosening the leash you keep wrapped ‘round your emotions. The festivities are long over. You're not even sure what occasion they had been celebrating. All of these winter festivals blend together after the first three.
You slump over the flat stone of the wall, bent at the waist. Your fingers don’t even reach the edge. Faint footsteps scruff across the old stone behind her. Quiet, but purposefully loud enough for you to hear. That alone tells you who dares approach.
“Do you believe in god, Yuri?” your ragged voice sounds unfamiliar to yourself. You don't budge from your prone position. The stone cools the overheated side of your face, seeps through your layers. You can feel the wild thrum of your heart begin to slow, cooling the agonizing sear of you pumping blood.
“I believe that it’s long past your bedtime,” Yuri says, a broken piece of glass crunching under his heel. “And I believe in the Goddess. How could I not when she blessed me with you?” The mocking drawl in his voice forces the corners of your lips into a deep frown.
He’s not going to leave, anytime soon, so you slide back onto your feet. The sudden change in position has you swaying on your feet, foot stumbling out of place. Before you can take a tumble and make even more of a fool of yourself, Yuri grasps your shoulder, touch grounding. You regard him with as blank a stare as you can manage. Despite the lashing winds and otherwise unpleasant conditions, Yuri is unflappable as always, long locks of lavender laid atop his shoulder. He’s traded his cape in for a dark cloak, sticked lines of embroidery lacing the cuffs and bottom of the garment, dance around its bone white buttons.
He’s still all purples and reds, but the smokey greys you’ve come to associate with his wardrobe have been traded in for darker shades. And he looks good, like he hasn’t lost a night of sleep in his life.
“Can’t sleep,” you mutter, kicking a nearby pebble. It’s sent skittering under a nearby table. Yuri regards you flatly, lips pressed into a thin, straight line—as thin as his petal plump lips can press, anyways. They’re coated in a subtle shade of pink, tonight, just blush enough to look natural. He rarely ever applies any intense, saturated shades of lipstick or gloss, lest it distract from the keen smolder of his eyes and his natural good looks.
Though, it doesn’t matter much what he wears. He dazzles on every occasion, sways swathes of civilians with his silver tongue and striking smile. He’s horribly, magnificently magnetic. Anyone would be lucky to have him, for what he has and what is underneath it all. He would surely make a marvelous spouse—
He flicks your forehead, sending you stumbling backwards. Before you can take a tumble onto your arse, he does you the good favor of snatching you by the arm to steady you. When had he come so close?
Up close, his chagrin is much more obvious. You shift uncomfortably under his stare. You cannot recall what having a mother was like, but you can imagine this is what being scolded by one would feel like.
“Where do you go in that head of yours?” he says with a sigh, wry smile breaking out across his pink petal lips.
“I… I don’t—” you stammer, scrambling for mental purchase.
“You can tell me all about it later,” Yuri takes your hand with a graceful flourish of his cape, drawing you close to the firm, lean line of him. The scent of faint lilac wreaths around you like an old, comfortable coat. “When you’re a little more sober, at least.” There’s a genteel grace to his steps as he shepherds you towards the stone staircase.
“Where are we going?” You’re left to do aught but follow, a sudden, giddy giggle erupting from your chest as you stumble into his side.
He sighs, belied by his wry smile. He relinquished his hold on your hand to wrap an arm around your waist, the stretch of his body so blessedly warm against your own. He chases the clinging chill away, dizzies your thoughts into paste.
You hardly hear him ask, “Bed. Yours or mine?” His question rattles you out of your drunken stupor. Your eyes go wide as saucers, palms hot with sweat as you struggle to form an adequate answer. Despite having known him for quite some time, his directness still manages to fluster you—an effect he likely intended, given his devious simper. What’s somehow worse is that you can’t bring yourself to be cross with him.
“Y-Yours,” you hardly realize you’ve spoken your mind until Yuri breaks out in a loud, genuine laugh. It’s unlike his typically tame chuckles, a sound of sheer exuberance that makes the inside of your chest twinge. You like hearing him this happy. You want him to be this happy all of the time.
“Bold. I like it.” he teases, jostling you in his grasp.
“Oh shove it—wait!” you huff, but stay in step with him, struggling not to stumble as he shepherds you down the stone stairs A line of torches straddle the descending path. In your drunken haze, you had forgotten about the two guards posted at the bottom. The sight of them shocked you stiff-still. Your fingers curl into the fine brocade of his black cloak, pulling him flush to the wall. ��Wait!” you hiss, voice nearly lost in his many layers.
“What? Did you leave something behind?��
“We can’t be seen sneaking around together!” you insist, and are immediately incensed at the eyeroll he gives you.
“And why would that be? Too ashamed to be seen with a charlatan like myself?” he drawls, yet takes you in closer. There’s a mean glint in his eyes, something decidedly wicked as his breath ghosts over your cheek, teasing your ear.
“Of course not!” you protest, eyes wide, cheeks got. How could you have misspoken so terribly? The last thing you wanted was to make him feel judged for the life he led, for the methods he employed in his occupation. “It’s you I’m worried about. What’ll people say if they saw you consorting with the Mad Witch of the Wend? No one would… would…” You draw a trembling hand over his chest, feeling the cool silk under your fingertips.
“You’re worried about my image? How darling.” Yuri coos, clearly disregarding the seriousness of the situation. People talk, servants talk, guards talk. If you two were to be seen on a random, midnight rendezvous, then word would surely get back to the capital, where plenty of available, valuable bachelorettes could hear.
“Of course I am. You could still marry someone nice and rich from the capital. Someone connected…” you reason. You blink your bleary eyes attempting to clear the blur that sticks to your periphery like stubborn burrs. The world at its edges is opaque and slow as melting candle wax. This is precisely why you typically abstain from the absinthe and fine brandies which tradesmen plod through the outpost. It makes your head dull and your words impossible to find.
“Hm. No. I don’t think I will. Noble life never agreed with me.” Yuri gives your cheek a consoling pat. You get the feeling that he is still, for some reason, very amused. Which is preferable to him being offended, or hurt. You don’t mind him laughing at you, you think, not when genuine mirth flatters him so. “If I’m going to make a difference, it’s not going to be with someone else’s spending money.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He tugs you past the posted guards, ushering you within the hollow halls of the outpost. Torches positioned on the wall shed gentle light up and down the small tunnel. You break beyond the thick walls which surround the inner manor—a proud, brutal building that sits a hybrid between the harsh stone architecture meant to shield from the cold and the slender, elegant cathedrals and house manors found en masse within the capital.
“I know.” Yuri shoots you a conspiratorial, knowing look. His thumb rubs gentle circles into your side. You can feel his touch through the two layers you have on, his arm having scooped beneath your outer cloak with dangerous efficiency. “The fact that you still think I could find some nice, doe-eyed girl from the upper crust to fall in love with is adorable, but I’m not interested in all that.”
He pulls you through the inner sanctum with a self-assuredness that would make you think he owned the place. His strides are slow. His voice keeps his strides slow and his voice quiet, sticking to the walls and where the shadow sinks the deepest. His cape swishes and billows around you, keeps you shielded from prying gazes of glancing guardsmen. Every step he takes is quixotically quiet despite his heels.
“I just want you to be happy. With someone nice. Who can help you make your dreams come true.”
He scoffs. “Ugh. When did you become such a ham?” you shove him again, and he laughs. “If you must know, I’ve already found the person I want to spend the rest of my days with.” He herds you to a nondescript wooden door, jamming a key into the lock before thrusting it open. The room is deathly dark, the only light slipping in silvery through a slit in the curtains.
Incredulous and wide-eyed, you gape at him as he draws you inside, wondering if you had heard him properly. While he engaged with a number of brief romances and paramours, he never seemed entirely beholden to the idea of a permanent entanglement. Which you will not judge him for. Only members of the nobility prioritize marriage so persistently, all too eager to shuttle off their children to new, unloving homes for the sake of power. You can’t imagine Yuri buying into such a sham—even if the court’s coffers could fund his ambitions.
“You are? Who is it?” you finally muster up the gumption to ask. There’s a strange, cold feeling at the pit of your stomach. Burgeoning dread you cannot make heads or tails of.
“Worried they’ll steal me away?” Yuri says with a fond smile. He looks at you while he lights the bedside lamp. He does it with magic, you realize, catching the tail end of his somatic gesture, pointer finger aimed straight at the lamp in question, thumb quirked skyward. You’ve seen him do it a few times before in battle, spells interwoven with fast footwork and flashes of forged steel from underneath his half fastened cloak. “You don’t need to worry your pretty head about all that—but you’ll be relieved to know that they live nearby. Very nearby, in fact.” He said, voice slowing to emphasize a point you don’t quite comprehend.
He unlatches the clasps on his cloak, gently dropping it over a nearby wooden chair. He smooths his hands over the back of it before he reaches for the buttons of his shirt. If you were perhaps a shred more sober, you would have immediately looked away. But you watch as he deftly sheds the silken garment, exposing planes of leam, pale flesh to the slight candlelight.
He clears his throat, with a knowing smirk. You pointedly snap your gaze downwards, pretending to find sudden interest in the floorboards. They seem to glow a soft, warm brown, aged polish scuffed and scratched with the wear of time.
Hastily, you follow his example, casting off your outermost layers with great haste. It’s second nature to shift down to your undergarments at this point. Despite his teasing, you’re comfortable with Yuri. Word of his cunning and cut-throated customs is rife in both the underbelly and upper crust of Faerghus, but none of the gossip mongers who gab on about him actually know him.
Years spent at his side have let you understand exactly the kind of man he is. Which is also why you know he would never be interested in someone like you. You’re something broken, something bent, misshapen by the malicious hands which made you. The idea of being coveted, of being loved strikes within you an uneasy feeling of wrongness.
Ah, but you’re sure he’s still waiting for an answer…
“Yuri…” you begin. You don’t quite remember what you had been discussing, you realize with a strong swing of dismay. Yuri, blessed with an unfathomable amount of kindness, is quick to remind you.
“What? Does the honored Marquis truly want to know the sordid details of my sex life? How scandalous!” he exclaims. You guffaw, dropping onto the mattress face-first, still in your boots and trousers.
“I just wanna make sure you’re with someone good.” you mumble, pressing your face into the pillow. It’s cool, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you burrow further into the cushions. The entire bed smells like him, and if you were possessed of but an ounce more of sobriety you would be too abashed to savor it.
“Again. Adorable. But you should really watch out for yourself,” he hums. His footsteps trail away from the bed, and you’re about to look over your shoulder when his hand wraps around your ankle and tugs, urging you onto your back. “I’m surprised you don’t have a line of suitors breaking down your doors everyday…” His fingers run down your clothed leg, to the leather and latches of your boots. You watch the graceful weave of his fingers as he slides them off, one after the other. He’s taken off his gloves, allowing you to just barely feel the fleeting warmth of his hands as they briefly swipe over your skin. “Though, I suppose I should be grateful.”
“That I’m gonna be lonely forever?” you grumble, turning onto your side.
“That I don’t have any background checks to do.” Yuri says, further away this time. You glance over your shoulder to where he’s gently dropping your boots near the door. So much care and compassion for something so small.
“Oh… Does that mean I can ba…background check the person you like?” you ask, and he smiles.
“Of course,” he says. His fingers weave through his long lilac locks, handily undoing his hair tie. He drops it on the nightstand before slipping underneath the sheets to settle beside you. “I have full confidence in your investigative skills, and you’ll quite like the person I chose.”
“That’s because you have good taste,” you mumble, eyes slipping shut. You wait a moment, and then two, and then three before opening one eye to peer at him. “Can I get a hint?”
“Again, don’t worry about it. At least, not right now. I’ll talk your ear off about it tomorrow, okay?” he says, consoling. His hand runs over your hair, fingers sliding down your neck. A flush of heat rolls through your spine, so silken and sanguine that you can’t suppress a shudder. You retreat to the cool comfort of your pillow, letting his touch sap the tension from your sore muscles. “When you have a better chance of actually remembering what I say.” The meat of his palm presses against your upper back. His heated touch saps the remaining tension from your body, soothing you enough to slip into the beginning phases of sleep.
“...Fine.” you huff, but there’s no real bite behind it. It’s half muffled into the pillowcase. You know Yuri likes being a man of his word, but he’s also a man in demand. There’s no telling if one of his gang members will burst through his door and announce a sudden tragedy that demands his attention. There’s no telling if he’ll be gone in the morning, a note left in his place written in that familiar, tidy cursive.
His roaming touch wanders upwards, warm fingers spanning across the nape of your neck. His thumb rubs soft circles into the skin together, and the touch alone would keep you awake if not for the alcohol muddling your system.
“And I’ll be here when you wake up,” he continues, as if sensing your apprehension. “You have my word on that.”
#fe3h x reader#fe3h/reader#yuri leclerc/reader#yuri leclerc x reader#yuri/reader#yuri leclerc#oz write#featuring fe3h
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Holy hell, that tower.
And it's just there. You can see it. From the opposite side of the bloody map.
Okay, okay. Write a proper post now...
In Limsa we meet with several of the Alliance's leaders. The plan has been made: we are taking the war to Garlemald. A contingent of elite soldiers will use our newly acquired warding scales to invade the Empire's capital and bring aid to the tempered Garlean populace.
While I trust your intentions, Nanamo, I do not in general trust a foreign government invading a nation with which they have been at war, claiming to be bringing "aid." But then, this is a video game and not real life. Perhaps it is what it says.
Our other target is the colossal tower (that tower holy FUCK) that used to be the Imperial Palace. Because that thing... That thing's bad news.
In Ala Mhigo we confer with Raubahn and Aymeric, who confess that our aid mission is not popular with either of their respective populaces. We also speak with Gaius, who wishes dearly to join us but who regrettably cannot due to both being accused of Varis' murder and his position as a former legatus making him a candidate for a new leader. Maxima will instead be accompanying us.
It turns out that Lucia will be the leader of the Ilsabard Contingent! And what a crowd she will be leading; representatives from all five of the Eorzean Allaince nations (many familiar faces from my class quests among them! How delightful!) as well as several of the Eastern Alliance!
Oh it is so wonderful to see so many old friends in the spotlight again. Brings a happy tear to my eye.
Sadu and Cirina are gal pals. I don't make the rules. They make my little shipper heart happy.
Suddenly, a wild Tataru appears! To provide all us Scions with hand-made winter coats to keep us warm in frigid Garlemald.
...Liar. That's the battle light. Trying to trick me, are you? Lull me into a false sense of security? Well joke's on you. The "several cutscenes" warning puts me on guard like nothing else.
Ah, Emet, what do you have to tell me about Garlemald? You would know it best, I'd imagine. At least, as it was before the Telophoroi got to it.
Really fucking cold? Yeah, I got that. Time to freeze my tail off, I suppose.
Our first obstacle on the road to the capital? Tempered Imperials. Comprised of members of both the Ist and IIIrd legions who had been the main instigators of the civil war, the IIIrd supporting Nerva and the Ist... not. (Who exactly was the Ist supporting??) Are we ever going to meet Nerva? I assume he's not dead yet, but is he tempered is the real question...
Anyway.
Thancred's group will disable and explode the magitek in the nearby depot to create a diversion while we guide the supply convoy through.
Unfortunately this means I must play as Thancred again. Oh boy, and it's a stealth mission this time.
I am less than good at stealth.
Alisaie and I are guarding the rear of the supply carriages, when the blizzard clears and we suddenly find ourselves surrounded by Imperials. It's all we can do to disable them without killing them.
I really enjoyed this fight sequence. Very nice and tense, but not as stressfully difficult as Thancred's section was. Perfectly balanced for a story scene.
Once the fight is well in hand for our side I make for the front to join the vanguard where my friends are contending with the main force of Imperials and their commander: Vergilia.
Nice design. I wonder if she'll be in any way important after we cure her of her tempering?
Oof. That's the first good look I get of that tower. That thing is creeeepy. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Fuck. Look at the city.
Wait, that's a road. Like, a modern road. Do the Garleans have cars!? Like. Civilian cars?!
...I find it fascinating that even after living an entire life in Solus' body, Emet-Selch never came to think of himself as Solus. Even now, in reflection, he sees it as playing a role. It makes me wonder... It makes me wonder a great many things... And this is really not the place for them, but you see, I have a one-track mind. And we're in Garlemald. The empire he built and ruled.
...
Here at last.
#ffxiv liveblog#rhesh'a tag#merlwyb bloefhiswyn#nanamo ul namo#lucia junius#maxima quo priscus#thancred waters#sadu dotharl#cirina mol#tataru taru#alisaie leveilleur#emet-selch#garlemald
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Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Being Loved END
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary
It was the day the talks of armistice between the Shogunate, Rebel Army, and Imperial Court ended.
Yasuchika-san asked me a question…
Yasuchika: I’m going to ask you the same thing one last time. Just tell me honestly what your choice is, you don't have to worry about me.
(What?)
Yasuchika: Do you want to go back to Kamakura?
Yasuchika-san was no longer smiling.
He waited for my answer with a serious look in his eyes.
Yuno: I…
Yuno: I like everyone in the Shogunate, so of course I want to go back, but…
Yuno: More than that, I want to be with you.
Yasuchika: That’s great.
Yasuchika: Then, let’s go to Kamakura together.
(Together!?)
Yuno: But you’re an Onmyōji who works in the capital, so you can’t leave Kyōto…
Yasuchika: You’re right about that, but when we were discussing the terms of the armistice…
Yasuchika: We decided that each region will deploy one member to the other two regions, in order to maintain fairness.
Yasuchika: Therefore, I’ll be transferred to the Shogunate from Kyōto.
Yuno: Oh, I see…!
I was surprised, but there was one thing that kind of bothered me, so I asked about it.
Yuno: Will you really be okay with leaving His Majesty and the others?
(Akihito-sama is the person Yasuchika-san wants to support the most.)
Yasuchika: His Majesty told me that he respects my decision, and that this decision will benefit the Imperial Court in the long run.
Yasuchika: We intend to gather opinions from the point of view of people outside the Imperial Court.
Yuno: I think that’s a great idea! I’ll definitely support you.
Yasuchika: Thanks. Hearing you say that feels very reassuring.
— The pathway to our future took a turn in an unexpected direction.
…
Three months later… at the Okura Bakufu in Kamakura.
Kagetoki: I will now give my verdict on Yasuchika-dono.
Yuno: Uhm?
Shigehira: I knew this day would come.
(What is going on!?)
Yasuchika: Whaa? That's so mean. All I did was capture the guy who was being a threat to Kamakura’s security.
Seated next to Kagetoki-san was Yasuchika-san, tied up.
Morinaga: It’s not right for you to use your Onmyō powers to shave that guy’s head.
Yuno: He did WHAT!?
Yasuchika: … That was accidental, okay?
Yasuchika-san looked up and added on with a huff.
Yasuchika: It’s not like I caused him any physical harm!
Yasuchika: I know Yuno-san will be upset if I did that, so I just wanted to use an alternative way of punishment.
Yasuchika: The spell I used on him killed his hair follicles, so his hair won’t grow back for at least a year. He’ll be alright.
Shigehira: That sounds scary. It’s not alright at all.
Yuno: I- It is a rather harsh punishment…
Yuno: What did that guy do, anyway?
Shigehira • Morinaga: …
Yasuchika • Kagetoki: …
(Huh? Why did they go silent all of a sudden?)
Kagetoki: Yuno… when you attended a house call during your work as an apothecary this morning, did you encounter an unreasonable man?
Yuno: Eh? Oh, yes. How did you know…?
(He wasn't satisfied with my treatment, so he refused to pay for it.)
(I was afraid that he would turn violent, but… the people around us suddenly fell down and it distracted him, so I took the chance to escape.)
(I haven't reported about the incident to anyone, though.)
Morinaga: That man is the one Yasuchika-dono punished.
Yuno: What.
Shigehira: I heard that he’s been causing trouble elsewhere as well, so it's a good thing we caught him.
Shigehira: But what you did was obviously due to a personal grudge. Am I right to say that? Yasuchika-san.
Yasuchika: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Kagetoki: Drop your pretense already.
Kagetoki: The townspeople, and even the man himself upon interrogation, all said that Yuno was being bullied…
Kagetoki: And you knew about it from the start, so you went after that man.
Yuno: What do you mean by… “from the start”?
Kagetoki: You’ve been surveilling Yuno’s every move, right?
(... No way.)
Yasuchika-san’s mouth lifted into a smile upon being pressed on by Kagetoki-san’s words.
Yasuchika: “Surveilling” is not a very nice way to put it!
Yasuchika: I heard that Yuno-san was going to attend a house call in an unsafe area today…
Yasuchika: So I put a shikigami on her just in case.
Yuno: Since when…!
Yasuchika: My bad for not informing you about that beforehand.
Yasuchika: Its function was to only let me know when Yuno-san feels troubled.
Yasuchika: Therefore, I wouldn't call that “surveilling her every move”.
Yuno: I didn't know about it at all…
Yuno: Ah, so when those people suddenly fell, that was you?
Yasuchika: Yup. Those were all my shikigami. Sorry that was the most I could do to help.
(The way he’s being genuinely sorry is a problem on its own too…!)
(But nevertheless, his actions did help get me out of that situation.)
Yuno: Um… thank you for helping me.
Yuno: And I think it’ll be better if you discuss such matters with me privately in the future…
Yasuchika: I’ll take note of that! I’ll try not to let Kage-chan and the others find out next time!
(Ah, I don’t think he got it.)
Shigehira: Yuno-san, you shouldn't pamper Yasuchika-san so much!
Shigehira: Listen up, Yasuchika-san. I just want to take this opportunity to say…
Shigehira: Your love language is too extreme!
Shigehira: It's fine for you to want to protect Yuno-san, but can’t you do it in a… reasonable way?
Yasuchika: That’s quite tough, Shige-chan.
Yasuchika-san grinned, despite still being tied up.
However… I caught a glimpse of the menacing look in his eyes, hidden behind that smile.
Yasuchika: … Do the people who try to harm Yuno-san deserve to be treated “reasonably”?
Yasuchika: I wanted to tear that man up from limb to limb, but I refrained from doing that because Yuno-san would get upset if she found out I did such a thing for her.
(... I haven't seen this look on Yasuchika-san's face for quite a while.)
(Because ever since we became lovers, Yasuchika-san only showed me his sweet and gentle face.)
Kagetoki: There’s something seriously wrong with you.
Morinaga: I thought Yasuchika-dono’s personality became softer thanks to Yuno, but it seems that I was wrong.
Shigehira: As for the final judicial decision — let's have Yasuchika-san buried in the courtyard.
Kagetoki: The meeting is over? In that case, I will now go prepare a shovel and a hoe.
Yuno: Kagetoki-san! Please don’t bury him.
I scrambled to stop Kagetoki-san, and then…
Morinaga: … Um, just for everyone’s information, I think Yasuchika-dono has already untied himself.
Shigehira: Oh! He really did. What the heck!?
(He was so tightly tied up!)
Yasuchika-san responded while sipping a cup of tea.
Yasuchika: Ah, that? That was a new technique I developed to untie ropes.
Kagetoki: Can you stop getting more and more unworldly with each day that passes?
Shigehira: … Hey. Isn’t that tea mine?
Yasuchika: Okay, Yuno-san, let’s run away!
Yuno: HUH!?
(Wah.)
The moment Yasuchika-san grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, a white smoke filled the room.
Shigehira: What’s this? Is the room on fire!?
Yasuchika: It’s just a smoke screen and it’s completely safe!
(H-hey…)
Yasuchika-san speedily escaped the hall, pulling me along.
Yuno: I hope that didn't anger them…
Yasuchika: It’s alright, I think?
???: It’s not.
(Ah.)
Yoritomo: Kagetoki and the others told me what happened, don’t bother Yuno so much. Got it, Yasuchika?
Yuno: Yoritomo-sama!
We stopped in our tracks when we heard Yoritomo-sama coming down the corridor.
Yasuchika: Got~ it~. I’ll be careful.
Yoritomo: That tone sounded concerning.
Yoritomo: Whatever. As long as you do your job well, I don’t have any complaints, even if you behave wildly.
(Yasuchika-san’s job is to take care of all matters involving the Imperial Court, especially negotiating with them and the Rebel Army.)
Yuno: Yasuchika-san, are you managing well at work?
Yasuchika: Nope! Not at all.
Yasuchika: My workload is so heavy, it makes me stressed. Can you comfort me?
Yuno: What? Erm…
The lack of physical distance between us was starting to make my cheeks burn.
Yoritomo: I know this is supposed to be some kind of bittersweet moment, but Yasuchika seems to have a lot of free time on his hands. Too much of it, actually.
Yuno: Really…?
Yasuchika: Eh— that’s not true.
Yoritomo: How’s the situation regarding the power struggle over the shrines and temples in Kyōto?
Yasuchika: I’ve made all the necessary arrangements, so there should be no more problems. You can start the flood control works.
Yoritomo: That’s fast. I expected it to cause even more problems for us.
Yasuchika: Well, uh… there was this weakness I had in the past… *incoherent babbling*
(Looks like I shouldn't ask him too many questions…!)
Yoritomo: What about the road maintenance works near the border between us and the Rebel Army’s territory?
Yasuchika: You received a message from Yoshitsune-sama for that matter, please check it later.
(Those are some very complicated tasks…)
Yoritomo: — See?
Yuno: It certainly seems that way…
Furthermore, Yasuchika-san has been traveling around the country with me, in the guise of being on a business trip to conduct inspections between his tasks.
If we encounter people being harmed by ayakashi, we’ll help them regardless of which region they’re from or their social status.
(Yasuchika-san is a very busy man, but he always tries to hide it.)
Yuno: Actually, Yasuchika-san has always been like this. Even back at the Imperial Court.
Yuno: He would get everything done with the same unbothered facial expression, but shoulder all burdens alone without hesitation.
Yasuchika: …
Yoritomo: Heard that? Yasuchika.
Yasuchika: I’m not going to answer that.
(Ah. It made him awkward.)
Yuno: But Yoritomo-sama is a workaholic as well, so you’re not exactly the best person to be saying that about Yasuchika-san.
Yoritomo: Oi.
(Yoritomo-sama accepts Yasuchika-san’s carefree personality with magnanimity.)
(Perhaps the two of them are more similar in their working styles than they think.)
(But, of course, overworking is never a good thing. I hope they’re resting enough.)
Yasuchika: Hey, hey. Say whatever you like, but don't say that I’m similar to Yoritomo-sama.
Yasuchika: If I could, I’d just lay down all day with Yuno-san in my arms and do nothing else.
Yuno: D-don’t tease me.
I looked away in embarrassment.
Yoritomo: You have a pretty nice hobby, huh? Yasuchika.
Yasuchika: Right? … Don’t envy me.
Yoritomo: … ◠‿◠
(...? They’re smiling, but why does it feel as if there's some tension between them?)
Yoritomo: — Whatever. I’m giving you a vacation.
Yasuchika: Huh?
Yoritomo: This is a good time to take a break and go on vacation. Yasuchika, you should return to Kyōto.
Yasuchika: …? There’s still quite some time before the rites I have to attend in Kyōto.
Yasuchika: According to all the letters I’ve been receiving, there’s no political instability or security problems in Kyōto at the moment.
Yoritomo: That isn't the problem. I'm talking about His Majesty.
(Akihito-sama?)
Yasuchika: … Did something happen to Akihito-sama!?
Yasuchika-san’s smile instantly vanished.
Yoritomo: Nothing happened to him—
Yoritomo: Just that whenever I visit His Majesty, he puts immense pressure on me.
(Hm?)
Yoritomo: “I heard that you’ve been depending on my Yasuchika greatly. You’re not giving him so much work that he doesn't have the time to come home, right?”
Yoritomo: … He’s always saying things like that.
Yoritomo: “What if he becomes barbaric because he got influenced by the warriors at Kamakura? I’m worried about that. Do you understand, Yoritomo?”
Yoritomo: And he says all that with a smile.
Yuno: Wow…
(Akihito-sama has a soft smile, but his words tend to carry poison at some times.)
Yasuchika-san had a suspicious look.
Yasuchika: Did His Majesty really say those words? That wasn't what I read in his letters, though.
Yoritomo: He won't tell you unhappy things directly.
Yoritomo: Both you and His Majesty are men of good character, so I wonder what’s bothering him.
(As expected of Yoritomo-sama. In such a short period of time, he realized the kind of relationship they have.)
(On the surface, they seem to be very easy going. But when it comes to caring for each other, they’re awkward.)
Yasuchika: I’m not very satisfied with that explanation, but since you offered…
Yasuchika: Yuno-san. Will you go with me?
Yuno: Of course! I’d love to.
(I want Yasuchika-san to take a well-deserved break after working so hard for a long time.)
(I’m looking forward to chatting with Ibuki and Akihito-sama as friends, too.)
Seeing how excited I was, Yoritomo-sama smiled.
Yoritomo: Yuno… remember to come back with Yasuchika after your vacation, alright?
Yuno: Okay! Yasuchika-san has an important role to play here in the palace.
Yoritomo: I mean, there’s that.
(...?)
Yoritomo-sama reached his hand out and lifted my chin with his fingertips.
Yoritomo: The palace gets boring without you.
(Eh…)
Yasuchika: ... Don’t you think it's rather unbefitting of the Seiitaishogun to hit on his subordinate’s lover?
Yasuchika-san pulled me away from Yoritomo-sama before I could respond.
Yoritomo: Yuno was originally mine.
(Oh. He’s talking about how I was under his care as a wielder of fox powers, right?)
Yoritomo: If this pisses you off, you should work hard to make sure your relationship lasts long and she doesn't dump you.
Yasuchika: — I don't need you to tell me that. I’ll make her so happy, it surpasses the amount of pain I caused her as an enemy.
(Yasuchika-san…)
Yoritomo: Good. You heard that? Yuno.
Yuno: Uh… yeah.
(So Yoritomo-sama was trying to get Yasuchika-san all fired up for my sake.)
The warmth and affection from Yasuchika-san made me happy, and my cheeks relaxed into a smile.
Yoritomo: Let me know if ever Yasuchika makes you cry again.
Yoritomo: My chest will always be available for you to cry into.
Yoritomo-sama waved casually and walked away.
Yasuchika: … Sigh. That Seitaishogun is so smart and flawless, it's a bother.
Yasuchika-san sighed bitterly.
…
The next day—
Yasuchika-san and I quickly packed our bags and headed for Kyōto.
(Wow, it's beautiful!)
We stopped by a field of flowers mid-journey to take a break.
Yasuchika: The flowers are in full bloom. I’m lucky I get to see them with you.
Yasuchika: Our recent meet-ups were only in town.
Surrounded by the sweet scent of nectar, we sat down huddled together.
Yuno: Those made me happy too.
Yuno: And I’m looking forward to traveling to Kyōto with you.
Yasuchika: Me too.
Yasuchika-san suddenly pulled me closer.
(Yasuchika-san?)
Yasuchika: This feels unusual. I used to always have mixed feelings about returning to Kyōto.
(Oh…)
I recalled the day we first went to Kyōto together to help deal with ayakashi.
= Flashback Start =
Yuno: This is my first time going to Kyōto! It’s a beautiful city, isn't it?
Yasuchika: Yup. It does look good.
Yuno: What does it look like?
Yasuchika: It looks pretty, but it's also filled with conspiracy.
Yasuchika: Unlike Kamakura, it's like a lovely fruit that’s slowly rotting.
Yuno: … Do you hate Kyōto?
Yasuchika: …
Yasuchika: There's no way I can hate it. I'm too attached to Kyoto.
Yasuchika: Living in Kyōto made me suffer countless bone-crushing nights, as well as beautiful encounters.
= Flashback End =
(Those words carried the weight of Yasuchika-san’s past.)
Yasuchika: I know that the Kyōto I’ll see with you now, is incredibly beautiful.
Yasuchika: For the first time, I can love Kyōto without being bothered by my worries.
(... I’m so glad to hear that.)
It was so heartwarming that I felt myself tearing up.
Yuno: … You became the protector of this country because of your unyielding determination.
Yasuchika: Yeah. You were the one who changed me that day.
A gust of wind blew and sweet smelling flower petals danced in the air around us.
Yasuchika-san embraced me and wore the most genuine smile ever.
(Ah…)
Yasuchika: Life’s more interesting when we don't know what the future holds.
Yasuchika: But there's one thing I can foretell.
Yasuchika: You will always be smiling by my side. In order to make you happy, I’ll even defy fate itself.
Yasuchika-san, the protector of this country, was also the protector of my heart.
(What should I say to him to convey my feelings?)
A simple “thank you” would not be enough.
Yuno: … I love you, Yasuchika-san. I’ll be the protector of your heart too.
Yasuchika: Yuno-san…
Yasuchika-san muttered my name and at the same time, something crystal clear fell from his eyes.
Yasuchika: Huh? What's this?
(You’re crying.)
Yasuchika-san used to be someone who could have his heart ripped out and torn into shreds, and he wouldn't even shed a single tear.
But right now, he’s tearing up.
Yasuchika: — Yuno-san.
Yuno: Yes?
He called out my name once more and our eyes met.
Yasuchika: … Ah, that’s right.
Yasuchika: What I’m feeling now is happiness.
Yasuchika: I guess people also cry when they’re happy.
The sight of Yasuchika-san’s tears was so beautiful that my vision turned blurry too.
He gently wiped the tears off the corners of my eyes with his fingers.
Yasuchika: — Why are you crying, Yuno-san?
Yuno: Because… I’m happy.
Yasuchika: That’s good. So this doesn't count as me making you cry.
(It doesn't matter how many tears I shed.)
(I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re always happy.)
Enveloped by the sweet smell of flowers, our lips met.
...
THE END.
#ikemen genjiden#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#otome#ikegen main story#yasuchika main story
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From a future chapter of Sins of the Fathers:
"Why hello there, cousin."
Azula froze. She knew that voice, even if she'd only encountered it twice. Once when its mistress had attacked her and Ursa had thought it was her who was the monster for fighting back. And then when the owner had jumped her in front of Ursa with a vicious smile and Ursa had, for the only time in her life, actually fought for her. It had not been *that* which sent its owner to prison.
It was her grisly murder of her parents and the two Imperial Firebenders drawn to the smell of burning flesh that had.
Now she saw those golden eyes looking at her as the figure drawled in slow, menacing speech.
"My cousin sent me to find you, and to bring you and the Crown Prince back. Didn't say anything about your little friends."
Azula's fires blazed bright blue.
"You won't go near them," she growled.
Jiren threw her head back and laughed raucuously.
"Oh cousin, if I wanted to you wouldn't be able to stop me. I have a foot in height on you and a good forty pounds in weight. More to the point I am the monster people think you are."
Her grin became wider and more deranged as her right hand formed blades of fire.
"Now my cousin did say not to harm your ability to Firebend, so regrettably I have to play nice."
She dimmed the fires and her hand flexed as Azula blinked, surprised for a moment.
"Why-"
Jiren's smile remained deranged as she leaned forward and pulled her cousin uncomfortably close to her.
"Because my dear cousin forgot one thing. I'm the only one he's got to pursue you. So if I say I can't find you because I want the fun of the chase and to simply not risk going back to my cell, what's he gonna do? Everyone in Capital Island by now knows what he was doing to you. People do talk, you know.
And I know what I am, and what I've done, but I'm having altogether too much fun being free. He gave me what, eight Imperial Firebenders on my ship? Killed every one of the buggers and dumped them into the ocean to feed the fishies."
Her breath was hot against Azula's ear as she pulled her still more closely.
"So I'm just popping in to tell you that I won't catch you...too soon."
Then there was a voice that echoed sharply as Jiren froze. That was a sw-
"I don't know who you are or what you're doing on my island," a girl's voice spoke.
"But I want you out of here."
------
Suki had seen the figure slipping onto the island, and had tracked her. She had heard enough of the louder statements that she had gambled, desperately, on the idea that this figure wouldn't just kill Azula in spite of the Fire Lord's promises. She quite literally had the business end of her katana at the figure's neck and had expected a great many reactions....but not the raucous laughter that echoed as the being formed fire in her fist and slammed it hard into Azula's stomach to knock her down and sprang out of the way of her sudden thrust.
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