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xxfaithlynxx · 19 days ago

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Great Minds Think Alike

Word Count: 4K (4109)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, weapons, mention of r*pe (non-descriptive)

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DO NOT steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always.

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

Chapter 3:

It was hard not to like him. He wasn’t like any Alpha I’d ever met- not that I had much experience with much of anyone ranked outside of Ephraim and Caleb, and of course Caleb's friends. Two domineering males who liked having others beneath their thumbs. Both metaphorically and literally. How could I tell Sylus the real reason behind the attack wasn’t, mainly, due to recalling the death of my parents are feeling thrown under a buss from the insistence in his tone- but because my body struggled with alpha commands. My senses weren’t as heightened as a typical presented beta, alpha, or omega… as a human my senses were incredibly dull in comparison. One thing though that had been an ongoing issue since I turned thirteen was my body viscerally rejected the emotional command in an Alpha’s tone.

How does one explain that without delving into memories better left buried? “That hamster is flying, darlin.’ What’s on your mind?” His voice, the smooth timbre of it coaxed me back to the now. I didn’t answer him at once, I took a moment to focus on what he was doing, after our little introduction moment earlier when I’d seen how he reacted to my name. My name was a constellation, much like my twin sister’s. Cassiopeia and Orien. My mother had named us. So, why had that seemed to make him turn as white as a sheet? He’d shocked me almost immediately after that by, literally, bending the previously pried iron bars back together, so they were- not perfectly- but straight enough not to garner any unwanted attention. When he found the door to the cell, which had been surprisingly well hidden, he’d jarred the handle just enough to crack the lock, so when closed it looked secure, but even given the slightest push or pull- swung easily on its hinges.

Now he was knelt in front of a stone counter, peering into a small hole in its front. He seemed trustworthy, right? He hasn’t eaten or murdered me, yet. Should I tell him the truth? Nah. Better to keep that box of snakes to myself. “I was thinking about food….” My response was forced, even I heard that, but there was no lie there. Prior to being evicted from what I had considered home- I hadn’t eaten. In fact, which might’ve been the biggest reason behind my migraine- thankfully- a dull headache now. He stopped what he was doing and straightened on his flat-footed crouch, his long torso tense as his expression turned thoughtful. “Hmm…. Stay here.” He said after several silent seconds.

Before I could respond, he’d vaulted into a trot and disappeared up the corridor. I sat there, frozen in place as the now empty room almost echoed back at me. What the fuck, dude.

I snorted in the direction of the doorway where he’d vanished. “If you die… don’t come back haunting my butt… dumbass.” I rolled my eyes. I supposed, as I pushed myself to stand and move over to the hay loft of a bed, if he did get killed— I didn’t have to worry about those weekly report things, not that I’d put any stock in the word of Ephraim anyway. It still wasn’t clear or becoming any clearer as to why the Alpha had imprisoned Sylus in the first place and wanted intel on the man. So why send someone to spy on him at all? I nestled into the prickly fabric holding the hay and leant my head against the equally uncomfortable pillow. Feeling weirdly at peace in this space. As rough as it felt, it was better than what I had in the attic of Ephraim’s house, a rug, and a tightly coiled old towel. I could feel myself drifting into a restless sleep, the fact that I was aware it was going to be restless seemed odd, it wasn’t something I’d felt before. As the unease bubbled within my gut, I pushed back against the sleep and the anxiety that seemed to be crawling around in my still headache throbbing head. Fucking Hells. Sitting up, I turned to press my back against the solid surface of the wall, arching my left shoulder into a spot that jutted out, grounding myself to keep the exhaustion and lack of food from overtaking my system.

I felt my eyelids grow heavier through every silent second of being alone in this room. The previously felt peace I’d felt was slowly evaporating, making me wonder— what was different here, in this room, when I’d been alone plenty enough times in Ephraim’s abode?

I didn’t have to think for long or hard about the answer. Him. It was him. Of course. I’d found myself enjoying his presence, at an alarmingly fast pace. I shouldn’t feel like this. Like he’d filled a hole inside me that had been empty for too long. Filling a void in my chest that had remained hidden and unknown. We’d known each other for only a few hours and yet, here I was—enamored by his very presence.

I’d found I liked hearing him talk, not just to me—but just in general. His voice was like honey, velvety, soft, and comforting. Resonate and relaxing but also exuding authority and confidence. Aside from that, the way he spoke— never hurried, almost bored. One thing was becoming blatantly obvious about the brief time I’d spent with him— I liked him.

Whipping my hands up to cover my now burning hot cheeks, I groaned. “Oh, my Goddess… no.” I tried to reason with myself, stamping down the feelings I’d freed from my chest from simply acknowledging that thought. No, you’ve only known him for a few hours! It’s impossible to get a crush on someone that quickly! He’s too old for you! Wait… how old is he? Okay, he seems so much older! You only like him because he’s being nice to you! That’s all!

“Yeah, that’s all it is.” My voice felt almost psychotic as I spoke to myself. Oh, I’m losing it… yup. Insanity, here we come! It was him being nice to me when no one else had been. I was the only other person he’d met here, other than the bonehead guards—so of course he’d have to be nice to me, right?

“You talk to yourself too, interesting.” A shrill squeak escaped me as panic surged through my legs and launched me to the head of the bed. My head whipped around, finding the man himself leaning against the dented metal doorframe of the room. As I reached up to press a palm to my chest, quelling my erratic heartrate, I opened and closed my mouth, but no words came out, I was too out of breath. However, another of those ‘cat-got-the-canary’ smirks lifted the corner of his mouth as he pushed off the frame and leaned over to grab something from outside the room. “Depending on how long we want to stay here, this should suffice, yeah?”

My eyes greedily fixed on the bulging muscles of his biceps, feeling my mouth turn into a desert at the sight. Blinking rapidly, I urged my eyes down to what he was carrying. A bloated canvas bag of stuff. Without realizing it, I’d hopped off the headboard of the bed and ambled over to his side as he settled in the middle of the room, legs crossed as he began emptying the bag.

“I wasn’t sure your size…” He glanced at me briefly before he tossed me a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Whoa, wait. What? I watched as they landed gently over my thighs just as I settled in across from him.

“Clothes? I thought you went out there for food.” I raised a brow as I held up the shirt against myself, finding it was maybe a size bigger. When I looked up, he was staring at me. Those ruby orbs glistened with some hidden emotion. As he sat there, stock still for another moment, a thought occurred to me, “What’s your wolf’s name?”

He blinked, and his lips parted, giving me the briefest of glimpse of teeth. I tilted my head as the silence extended, feeling guilt blossom before I dropped my eyes. “Sorry… I was only curious.” Checking on him from beneath my lashes, I saw him blink a few more times and close his mouth. His adams apple bobbing multiple times before he dropped his eyes to the bag in his hands.

“His name is Stayrus.” I looked up at him, slowly mouthing the name- feeling how it rolled off my tongue. Seeing the bloom of red across his cheeks and down his neck, I felt my eyes widen a fractionate. Was that too personal a question? I hadn’t realized asking the name of someone’s wolf was a personal thing. His eyes flicked up to meet my own. “Sorry, I haven’t said his name out loud in… a while.”

I tipped my head, adjusting my position so my knees were folded off to one side. “You don’t have to say anything or explain anything. Remember, I don’t even have a wolf….” I gave a half-hearted laugh, looking down to fiddle with the waistline of the shorts he’d tossed at me earlier. “I was curious… and we all know what happened to the cat when that happened.”

“Don’t be sorry, little one… it’s natural to wonder.” He suddenly shifted as well, resting a hand on the solid floor and dragging himself a little closer to me. When he saw I wasn’t against the idea of his approach, he tipped his head- the partial silvery white bangs falling over his right eye. “He likes you. To be honest, I… haven’t heard him speak to me in years.” He smirked, lifting a hand to brush a strand of wayward hair behind my ear. “It’s hard to focus, after so long with silence- only to have him nattering away at me.”

I swallowed, feeling the heat of his hand brush the skin of my cheek, “I wanted to ask…” he cleared his throat, “I was curious how old you were.” I felt myself smile before I could help it.

“I’m thirty.”

“Really? I would’ve pegged you for nineteen! Twenty, at most.” The shock in his tone was evident as he grinned at me, leaning back on hands palm down to the floor. “I’m serious. Don’t laugh at me!” He paused before another blush overtook his cheeks, right up into his ears. “You look amazing for your age, if you’re only thirty.”

That brought my side-splitting giggle to an abrupt halt, my own blush climbing through my cheeks and into my ears. He wouldn’t say that if he knew…. “Please,” I balked, “I’m basically an old maid.” I couldn’t meet his eyes, not now. He’d see it clear as day, how his words affected me.

“If it makes you feel any better, sweetie, I’m thirty-three. That would make me the old maid.”

Emotions momentarily forgotten, my head snapped up to look at him. “You are not thirty-three. I call bullshit, sir!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grinned, a light flaring in his eyes, making them glimmer in the dim fluorescents of the room. As soon as it was there, it was gone, as another thoughtful expression fell over his face, “Thirty, and you never presented… that must have been… difficult.” He’d said the word with disdain, almost like he could tell.

I sighed, letting my gaze drift back down to the bag between us. Remembering the ridicule, the obscenities, and the abuse. Recalling the verbal slander and the neglect. Trying and failing to keep the memories of Caleb sealed behind the door I’d hidden them in. I swallowed heavily, feeling the fabric of my shirt burn against my now tightly curled fingers. Breathe… he’s not here.

I could feel Sylus watching me, he patiently waited for me to either let him in, or shut him out, and for the first time, I wanted to let someone in… to tell them everything.

“I’d had to learn on my own after turning thirteen. When they realized I wasn’t going to present as anything… they’d been so excited to have twins brought into the pa—” I felt a hand on my knee out of nowhere and looked up at him, closing my mouth as I saw his wide eyes. “What?”

“You’re a twin too?” I nodded slowly, and the small smile that pulled his cheeks up was the sweetest I’d seen thus far. “Liam really did have it all, didn’t he.” It wasn’t a question; it sounded more like an admittance to a long-wondered idea. Hearing my father’s name brought back to how insistent he was about wanting to know who he was… bringing forth more questions to my own mind. “I apologize for interrupting, go ahead.” His hand disappeared from my knee, but I had felt safe under its heavy warmth, and I found myself reaching out to bring it back.

The stunned silence between us as my eyes lifted to meet his wasn’t awkward, or at least it wasn’t for me, he just seemed taken aback before looking down at my hand covering his, tiny in comparison. “It… helped me… stay calm….” I whispered, brushing my thumb over a prominent vein down the back of his hand.

“It’s fine.” His voice was just above a whisper, airy but laden with something I couldn’t put my finger on. I heard him breathe a quick exhale through his nose before pressing his thumb harder against my knee, “Continue.”

So, I did, I tried not to hurry through the memories of Caleb, how he’d held me down on numerous occasions with his friends. Knives, belts, tools of various styles having been their choice to use on me. How chopping my hair off had become a normal occurrence when it grew past my shoulders. While his friends, his family and of course… my sister watched. I told him about how later, the disturbing events that happened behind closed doors. The bruises and bite marks in places normally unseen. I told him about how I’d needed to be taken to the pack hospital that was in the territory over a fractured pelvis. How the nurses and doctors did as little as they could to examine and discharge me, saying I’d simply fallen. I’d let him know that with everything that Caleb did, what his friends, and family had done… my sister have never intervened, she’d only watched.

I told him about how my sister willingly chose to become Caleb’s mate, as she’d presented as a Delta, a rank higher than Caleb—who had presented as a Beta, much to his father’s disdain.

I told him everything, well… I pointedly left out the part about my revulsion to Alpha commands, but everything else I finally voiced. Right up until the night prior, how Ephraim had more or less exiled me to be here. I told him Ephraim’s request, and had watched as his already narrowed, angry eyes turned to slits. The red of his iris’ burning between each lid, even without one—I’d seen it enough times with Caleb, when a wolf was close to tearing free. It was the confusion I felt at seeing him like that, that made me reach out and cup my palm against his cheek.

“Sylus.” I paused and when he didn’t react, I maneuvered so I was kneeling in front of him, having shoved the bag away so I could gain some height on him while pressing my other palm to his opposite cheek, “Stayrus.” I waited, and saw recognition, “there we go, please calm down for me, hey?” I stroked my right thumb down the Sylus’ left cheek and gave him a small smile, “I’m okay.” I held his wolf’s gaze, the glowing, swirling red. “I’m here, Stayrus.”

I felt my lip’s part on a gasp as I watched Sylus’ wolf depart, revealing the human in its stead. Tipping my head, I smiled down at him, “Thought I lost you there.” His breathing was erratic, and his chest bumped against my stomach with every shaky inhale. Slowly, I lowered myself, so I was right in front of him, our kneels on either side of one another. I kept my hands against his cheeks, just in case his wolf wasn’t done, and for him to ground himself with.

“How…” He sucked in a breath, then fixed me with a confused look, “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Get him to back down like that. I… Goddess, I thought he was going to rip free.” I could hear the quake in his voice.

I shrugged, finally feeling his breathing calm down enough where I felt the need to move away, “I dunno… I just spoke to him.” He shifted as he looked at me, one dark brow lifting.

“You spoke to him.” He paused, reaching up to rough a hand through his hair, “That’s it?”

“What? Yeah, I spoke to him. I just… I saw the panic in his—your eyes and felt like I needed to reassure him. So, I simply told him that I was here, that I was okay and asked him if he could calm down.” I flinched from the exasperated look I was getting from the silvery white-haired man. “What!”

“I’ve lost control of him a few times before… and believe me when I saw, he hasn’t listened to anyone, like he listened to you just now.” I shared his look of pure shock as I watched the emotion cross his features as a thought he hadn’t expressed passed over his eyes. Someone from his past maybe?

I couldn’t think of anything to say, now that my mind had bid the image of a different female trying to calm the beast. So, I stood up and grabbed the bag off the ground, hauling it up and on to the stone counter of what I realized while he’d been gone was a kitchenette type area. I floundered with something to say to him but couldn’t find anything appealing, so my mouth said the first thing to come to the tip of my tongue. “You did say he liked me.”

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

SYLUS

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

It was strange to hear his wolf purr of all things, but here he was, a mass of shaggy black fur, curled happily in the corner of Sylus’ mind. Completely content after having nearly ripped through his control and torn a path of blood and bone through everything and everyone who had hurt the girl in front of him. What the fuck, dude! Sylus griped internally, only to receive a huff as he rolled on to his back, showing his metaphorical belly. You sap. You don’t even listen to me like that!

‘She’s ours. I listen to what’s ours.’ The words tore through Sylus’ chest like electricity. She can’t be… ours. Can she? It’s not possible. ‘Yes she is. Ours.’ The animal in Sylus’ head gestured to the girl standing in front of that concrete counter, emptying the contents of the bag he’d procured.

He hadn’t known at the time what she liked, and having noticed her dilapidated state of dress, he’d managed to snag a few different pairs of shirts, pants and shorts for her—as well as a few items for himself. Once he’d felt satisfied with the clothing issue, he’d raided several kitchens, from a couple separate houses, as well as the main annex of the Alpha’s domain. He’d been surprised to see the layout of the place resembling that of an Imperial Palace, complete with rock gardens—considering where they were, which was nowhere near anyone of royal bloodlines.

Clearing his throat and shoving aside the words of his wolf, he stood and came up beside her. “I wasn’t sure what you liked. So, I grabbed… well, everything I could.” He purposely kept his voice low, as to not spook her from his sudden appearance at her side. He noticed he had a knack for doing that, scaring her. When he looked at her now, he could see the faint scar tissue that had healed. Faint tissues discoloration over her neck, her cheeks, her forehead even. Maybe what he’d seen earlier wasn’t actually acne scars… but trauma scars from her past.

He couldn’t help but think, If she had a wolf… she wouldn’t have those scars. The thought made Stayrus growl low in his head. Clearly the beast was perfectly content if she was human. Moving his eyes to her face again, he saw how concentrated she was, chewing on the corner of her mouth. A mouth, he had to admit, was looking more delectable by the second. His wolf let out another purr, making Sylus realize, in the short time they’d spent together… his wolf wasn’t the only one who liked her.

He blinked back that epiphany as her voice cut through the sweaty fog in his head, “I’m not picky when it comes to food.” She’d let her lip pop free from between her teeth, the skin still slightly reddened from how hard she’d been nibbling at it. “This though,” she held up a bag of dehydrated figs, “this I could live without.”

~~~

That night—having seen the time when he’d been sneaking around earlier, Sylus found himself lounging next to her on the straw bed as she spoke of what she remembered of her father and mother. Her cheek was lain against his shoulder as she spoke. Every now and again he could feel the dampness of the fabric closest to her eye. He knew she was crying, but he didn’t want to stop her from talking.

He liked her voice. Her soft cadence that bordered on—in his mind—a melody. He was sure if she were to read to him, he could easily be lulled into a dreamlike state of illusion and imagination. Stayrus grumbled in agreement, head braced against his front paws, ears lolled out to the sides. Sylus had never felt his wolf so relaxed, in turn— he hasn’t felt so relaxed, not since….

“You know… if I’m boring you to sleep, I can stop talking and let you.” He hadn’t seen her move, so when he turned his head, he found her smiling up at him. Her blue eyes glistening from the previously shed tears. He felt his jaw pop; she looked radiant in the soft yellow glow of the room.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, “Absurd,��you bore me? Doubtful.” He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow at the same time. “I was engrossed in what you were saying, darling.” As he went over what she’d said about her parents, he knew…. “I never actually met your father. I’d heard many things about the man though.” He didn’t want to mention how he knew her mother, not yet….

She sat up straighter, turning her whole body to face him, “You did? Like what?” The glare of excitement flashed in her eyes, making him smile.

“Have you ever heard of… an Enigma?” His wolf bristled inside his head as he said the word, yet his eyes focused solely on her face. Watching for any kind of reaction. When she shook his head, brows pulled together, he continued. “An Enigma is… another rank in the dynamic. Where Alpha’s can command ranks beneath them, an Enigma can command any Alphas, and any rank below them.” He watched as her eyes widened, her brows lifting to her hairline. “Only a single Enigma can exist at any given time, making them the rarest presentation known to Shifter kind.”

He waited for that information to settle in her mind before he took a deep breath.

“Ori, your father was the Enigma.”

Ω ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ω

#love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deep space #sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #prose #a/b/o fic #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #sylus x oc

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dreammfires · 2 months ago

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Ernest Levaincois CH 1 Translation.

There are BMP 0 routes now with the ancestors of the BMP 1 & 2 princess in the Japanese app. Ernest is Edward and Max's ancestor.

BMP 1 and 2 MCs are from Oriens, this MC is from Phillip (Wilfred and Hayden's country).

My Japanese isn't great (that hasn't changed in my 7 year absence since I neglected my studies) 💀. So I may have made mistakes.

CREDIT ME IF POSTED ELSEWHERE

NOTES: I failed History in secondary school so I can't place this time frame because it doesn't seem to be the medival centuries but it is not 19th Century either.

I didn't intend to post this so I was writing it personally for me and I am too lazy to go back and blank out the name. Helaina = my MC.

INTRO

Helaina lives in Phillip with her adoptive family Darius someone she considers a brother and their mentor she affectionately calls Uncle La Salle. They run medical clinic where Helaina is an assistant.

Seven kingdoms have just been created and their first Kings crowned. It's a time of excitement and wonder at what the future brings. She is watering medical herbs when she thinks of this. Watering the herbs is her task before she goes to the clinic. Mr. Molière (Jean Pierre in normal BMP and Francisco is SLBP) is excited as he is a pharmacy owner and these new kingdoms mean new trade routes for bringing in medicine and herbs not available in Phillip. So Helaina is about to embark on a journey to one of these new kingdoms to learn more about medicine.

CHAPTER 1

When Helaina was a child, she goes with her parents on one of their jobs to Charles. They travel by boat and horse carriage to a big house. She gets bored of the adult conversation and sneaks outside to this wide, vast field full of beautiful, colourful flowers.

While taking in the beauty of her surroundings she meets a crying boy with silver hair like that akin to starlight.

She approaches him kindly and notices that he fell and scraped his knee. She gently offers to help him. The boy is resistant to her at first and asks her what is she doing on his family's property but she still helps him.

Helaina pushes her skirt up and the boy looks away out of modesty and asks what is she doing? She tears her chemise and makes a bandage that she carefully wraps around his knee.

The little boy is grateful for her kindness and he picks 8 roses, wraps them in a handkerchief embroidered with roses and gives them to her.

Boy: As a token of my appreciation please accept this.

Helaina accepts but one of the thorns pricks her through the handkerchief and she winces but the boy puts his hand over her own.

Helaina asks what is his name Boy: My name is .....

She wakes up to the powerful scent of medical herbs. She wonders if meeting that little boy was a dream.

"What was your name again?"

She remembers that is wasn't a dream. She did encounter the little boy who gave her flowers years ago. That was a time where her parents were still in good health back then but now they've passed.

Right now Helaina is a healer/medical assistant.

She is leaving Phillip to go to the Kingdom of Charles. Her adoptive father La Salle who drilled everything he knows about medicine into her comes to see her off along with Darius.

Darius is fussing over her leaving and doesn't want her to go but she insists and assures him that Charles is a safe country. Thibault, a family friend comes to take her on her journey.

Her reason for going to Charles is because she wants to go train and learn more about medicine. She feels like she needs to broaden her field of knowledge and staying in Phillip will limit her.

She arrives in Charles after a long journey by boat. Thibault warns her about pickpockets then leaves. She almost loses the handkerchief that the boy gave her years ago. She thinks of him.

"Just because we're in Charles doesn't mean I'll be reunited with him."

Helaina dreamt of the boy on the morning of her departure so she took it as a talisman of good luck.

The streets are bustling and lively. She melts into a crowd of people trying to find a pharmacy but she has no idea where it is.

A man knocks into her hard. She is annoyed, then remembers Thibault's warning, goes to get her purse then realizes it is gone.

She screams that there's a thief who just stole her purse then out of nowhere a man with long silver hair subdues the thief elegantly as if it is a waltz, the thief's arms are now pinned behind him tightly and the thief is groaning.

Silver haired man: "This isn't yours. I sympathize that you are poor enough to resort to stealing but find another way."

He nods to a well dressed attendant who he turns the thief over to.

Silver haired man: "Is this yours?"

He hands the purse back to her and comes unusually close to her face and she is taken aback wondering if being so close to someone is the norm in Charles. She is enchanted by his purple eyes as well and how his silver hair glistens under the clear sky.

Silver Hair: Are you a tourist? His eyes drop to her suitcase. Helaina: Yes I got here a while ago. Silver Hair: You were probably walking around aimlessly like a child. You're basically showing that you don't know the area. Helaina: Ah Silver Hair: Carrying that heavy suitcase with such thin arms you can't move properly. You're displaying a lot of weaknesses no wonder you are an easy target. You seem to be alone but at least try to have some sense of prepardness. You're being reckless.

Helaina is so entraced by his beautiful face and the contrast of his words that almost misses what he says. She becomes annoyed. She cannot excuse her carelessness but she wishes he would be more careful with his words.

Silver Hair: Where were you planning on going? You surely cannot be wandering aimlessly.

She is wondering if he will show her around but she already doesn't want to owe him anything more.

Silver Hair: Not only are you lost you've forgotten your destination. You're rather hopeless!

She is annoyed but she bows to him politely and says she doesn't want to cause him more trouble and that she'll ask someone else.

Silver Hair: How admirable.

She finds that he speaks coldly and it seems as if he is wrapped in thorns. The man narrows his eyes and stops a woman passing by and he asks the woman to show Helaina to her destination.

She hears him muttering "Measures to prevent petty crime and support the poor." He then disappears into the crowd. __

Helaina arrives at the pharmacy thanks to the lady's warm guidance. She is still thinking about how handome Silver Hair but how covered in thorns he seems. She is blushing so much that the pharmacy owner asks if she is okay because she is bright red.

She regains her composure and gets the owner's permission to look around. Helaina is in awe at the different medical herbs all local to Charles that she had never seen before in Phillip. There's fresh herbs, fresh flowers, dried, some chopped and some mixed in ointments.

Helaina imagines Mr. Molière being excited at all of herbs especially the ones he hasn't seen before since he was excited about distribution routes with the new kingdoms. She takes advantage of the pharmacy owner's kindness and asks a lot of questions about each of the herbs. She takes a lot of notes.

She sees one shelf is empty and asks why? Shopkeeper: A customer from the Rolle Region in the south bought up all of those herbs. They were for the fever and swelling.

Helaina: *thinks of cold*

Helaina: "Is there a cold going around there?"

Shopkeeper: There is a disease spreading around across the country at the moment. The Rolle Region had a famine last year it seems the effects are lingering but it isn't chaotic to a point where people are buying up all of the medicine.

She thinks of how the Rolle Region in the south is probably not like the city and if something is happening there, they may not have easy access to pharmacies and doctors so she may be needed.

She decides to go South.

#bmp #voltage otome #voltage inc games #be my princess #Bmp jp #Bmp eternal kiss #Oujisama no propose #Oujisama no propose eternal kiss #otome #otome game #Ernest Levaincois #voltage game

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myreia · 6 months ago

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Sketches of Times Lost

Day 09: Lend an Ear

at long last, aymeric hears from the one dear to him. aymeric x female warrior of light, mentions of past aymeric/estinien. set during stormblood. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: teen words: 1617 ao3 link

It is two bells to noon when the linkpearl hums.

At first Aymeric thinks he must be imagining it. The delicate thing has been dormant for weeks, ever since Aureia left on her journey. She was so flushed and bright-eyed when she gifted it to him, pushing it eagerly into his hands on the day she left for Gyr Abania. A token, a private link to keep them connected while she journeyed away from Ishgard.

They have only used it three times. Once when she arrived in Castrum Oriens. A second when she reached Rhalgr’s Reach. And finally, the third not long after the Resistance was raided. She was so silent then, saying little more than a word or two. He prattled on, filling the silence with arbitrary small talk and unimportant politics and Emmanellain’s latest tomfoolery, until she finally blurted it out. She was injured. Badly. And she wished to return to Ishgard.

She was coming home from her foray too soon, bruised and bandaged and broken.

Her injuries healed quickly under the chirurgeons’ care—she had survived much worse, Alphinaud said—but her spirit remained crushed. This was no simple taste of defeat; there was a hollowness inside her that was eating her alive, and gods be damned she could not speak of it. He could not bring himself to ask what happened that horrible, horrible day. He knew the small details, of course—the burning base, the Imperial destruction, the tally of the injured, the tally of the dead.

Zenos yae Galvus stalking the battlefield like a demon summoned from the Void.

Aureia’s silence was uncanny. Unsettling. This was not the first time she had fallen in combat, nor would it be the last. She is no stranger to defeat. And yet the Garlean prince left an undeniable mark on her. Even after her recovery and the plan to travel to Othard was put in place, she felt distanced. Faded. Like an autumn leaf torn from its branch, falling away from the place it called home.

The linkpearl hums again, the delicate white bead pulsing faintly with light.

Aymeric stares at it, certain now that he is not making it up. He wets his lower lip and puts down his pen, stretching out a hand. His fingers hover above the linkpearl’s box, its home since he removed it from his ear. Out of the way, but not forgotten. Housed safely and waiting, ready for when she saw fit to call. There was no expectation for her to call right away. The journey to Othard is long, and the seas are perilous. She has more important things to do than to worry about calling him, just as he does.

His gaze flicks to the chronometer above his mantlepiece. Then back to the linkpearl. The day is still young. A fire crackles in the hearth, staving away the early cold that creeps in through the windows overnight. He returned from morning prayers not that long ago. A pile of paperwork is stacked upon his desk, and this only matters so urgent he must deal with them at home. There will be others waiting in his office at the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

That really is a mouthful, you know. Has no one thought of renaming it to something maybe under seven syllables?

The memory murmurs at the edges of his mind, softened by the haze of reminiscence. They were lying in bed, perhaps. His bed—or was it hers? No. It must have been his. The sun was too bright that morning, flooding through tall windows. She sat up with the sheets pulled around her, her hair a mess, creases in the corners of her eye, all but glowing in that sun.

The linkpearl hums once more.

Aymeric shoves his seat back and rises to his feet, seizing the linkpearl and putting it in his ear.

“Aureia,” he breathes.

Nothing at first. Then—

“Hi.”

Her voice is clearer than expected. He closes his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, as if the pressure can soothe his aching heart. “You called.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

A pause. Faint music echoes from her side, too distant for him to make much sense of. Harmonies played on instruments unfamiliar to his ears. Where is she now? How far has she gone? Has she made it safely? Is she hurt? Halone above, he does not know what he will do if this is how he discovers she has been gravely wounded again—

“We’re in Hingashi.”

“Hingashi?” His eyes widen. “Then you—”

“Made it, yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank Halone. Your journey was uneventful, I take it?”

“An incident with pirates.” He can envision the playful smile on her lips from her tone alone. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. I suppose one could say Alisaie taught them a lesson or two. Or four.”

“Would that I could have seen that.”

“Would that you could have come with us.” She pauses, the score of the city shifting behind her. The instruments have faded now, but he can hear the rhythm of a busy street, the cacophony of distant gossip. Is she outside? Sitting by a window? If only his tongue wasn’t so tied, she could paint the picture for him. “I think you would like it here in Kugane. The city is wonderful.”

“Any snow?”

“No.” He’s certain he can hear her grinning. “Tataru took us on a tour of the markets. And the tea houses, Aymeric! The tea here… I can’t describe it. I hate to say it, but it puts your Ishgardian brews to shame.”

“I would very much like to argue that. Ishgardians pride ourselves on our tea, you know.”

“You could, but I don’t think you’ll win.”

“That’s hardly fair. I taught you everything you know.”

“And now I have surpassed you.”

He chuckles, a soft smile spreading from ear to ear. Abandoning his desk, he pads across his office and slows to a halt by the hearth, watching the flames dance. It wasn’t so long ago that she was here, curled up on the couch. Her favourite coat—a red leather duster—is still here, hung over the back. “Then I look forward to this tea sparring match upon your return,” he says, warming his hands above the fire. The chronometer ticks, the second hand moving determinedly forward. “Shall you put it in your calendar or shall I?”

“Mm. I think we can think of better things to do than to spar over tea.” Her voice drops to a murmur, low and husky, thick with suggestion. It’s surprisingly forward of her, considering their lack of contact over the past weeks. Or is that another thing he is imagining? “Did you know they have public baths here? Hot springs. Perhaps there are more similarities between Ishgard and Hingashi than we thought. Just like the mountains. They’re beautiful here, Aymeric. I don’t know if I there will be a chance to visit before we move on, but I can see them from my window before the sun sets too far.”

His throat constricts, his breath shallow. “Is the sun setting now?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the hearth.

“Yes. It’s just gone below the horizon.”

“And it is morning here.”

A pause. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I can call again later. If you’re busy—”

“No, no. Please.” He exhales a long breath and rests his forearm along the mantlepiece, his fingers tapping the wood near the chronometer. “It’s good to hear your voice. More than I can say.”

Another pause. “I’m attuned to the aetheryte here now, you know. I could slip away. Come see you in person.” Though there is hopefulness in her voice, it isn’t as much a question as it is a daydream. One where the weight of nations doesn’t weigh on their shoulders. One where their names and faces are unknown. One where he isn’t the Lord Commander and she isn’t the Warrior of Light.

“It would attract too much attention to receive a visitor all the way from Kugane,” he says softly. “I cannot guarantee there wouldn’t be talk, and any talk can find its way back to the Empire. Best stay discreet.”

“I know, I… I miss you. I wish I could see you.”

“But I can hear you. That is more than enough.”

She falls silent. A distant rush of wind—a breeze blowing by her window, perhaps?—and he can hear the faint trail of music once again. “I should let you go,” she murmurs. “Let you get back to work. And I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Aureia—”

“Yes?”

He flips the chronometer around, pushing it face-down into the mantlepiece. “Stay with me a while?”

She doesn’t answer. In the uncertain space between breaths, he wonders if he is about to find the answer to the question that has haunted him for weeks. How did a Garlean prince—however ferocious—shake her so badly that their relationship feels uneasy? Have they reached that impossible place he fears the most? The immutable point where they begin to break apart, slowly but surely moving away from one another. It has happened before. He was young and foolish when he let Estinien into his heart. Has he learned anything since? Or is she destined to meet a similar end?

There is something about these warriors his heart chooses—bound to wander like distant stars, while he is ever bound to Ishgard.

Aureia’s voice resounds in his ear, warm and firm and with such tenderness he is reminded why exactly he loves her. “I would like that.”

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #writing tag #myreiawrites2024 #aymeric de borel #warrior of light #wolmeric #aureia malathar #oc tag

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paeliae-occasionally · 5 months ago

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Xaeren Character Intro!

After popular demand (@thecomfywriter) I have made an intro for your favourite magic guy Xaeren. For more info go to the ‘Xaeren lore’ links in my intro, or #xaeren writing.

Ok so I have a list of questions from the number 1 Xaeren fan, but if anyone has further questions feel free to put them in the comments.

Questions:

This man’s sleeping position?

He sleeps on his side, usually his left side unless he is injured. His coat hangs next to him in case he needs to leave quickly and he has other runes on his pyjamas just in case.

His daddy issues?

Xaeren’s biological father (Morden Teyri) was a necromancer from the 3rd Altic Kingdom, when he was taken Xaeren was adopted by an abusive step father from the Ponturesi who used him to study the effect of pain or learning runes. All in all not a great parental situation but when he finally reached Zairel he is quickly welcomed into Hiresias and the hidden king becomes something of a father figure to him so that is nice.

His crippling anxiety?

He fears that he is running out of time, which he is. Xaeren has spent a lot of time and effort protecting himself from the gods but has recently figured out that it was not enough to keep him safe. The concept of the goddess finding him and imprisoning him again is terrifying, if only just because of his utter helplessness and failure at his life goal: magic and survival.

His Runes?

Ok, long story. I have other rune posts, but happy to make more if needed. His runes of choice are ‘Awen’- protection, ‘Xaeren’- souls/banishment (Obviously) ‘Tas’- Binding and ‘Tesellel’- Dispelling magic

Where did his resilience come from?

Xaeren has been running from this goddess since he was 15. Resilience isn’t a choice for him, it is a requirement for his survival, and survival is something he cares deeply about. The people around him in Zairel have helped with this. He can keep going because he knows that he can protect them, and they can help him.

His favourite ice cream flavour

Ooh I hadn’t thought about this one. Probably blackberry. I don’t know why so don’t ask.

Who is in his family?

Wow. Loaded question for him. First family - Altic necromancers Dad (Morden) from the 3rd kingdom and Mum (Saire) from Orien. They were taken by Schaeres for messing with death. She also would have taken Xaeren if she had seen him Second Family - The Ponturesi. Runic cult who experimented on how much loss a person needed to experience to use runes. He sent most of their living souls to a death realm. Third Family - Travelling group as he travelled around the altic lands and down the Wysindi coast to Zairel. They moved on when he decided to settle down in Zairel. Fourth Family - The hidden King and HK’s son Arlei. The crew: Zeudi - resources coordinator Herra and Koi - message runners, lower level hiresias. This later includes Kell. All of these are still currently alive.

Who does he hate?

Himself, the goddess Schaeres, The Ponturesi, sometimes the small council of house Lysandri

Who does he love?

You Naveena. He loves you. (Also his closest friend Arlei)

What inspires him? What terrifies him? What compels him to hide?

He is inspired by magical research. He spend a large portion of his life studying and developing runes so new forms of magic always intrigue him. The feelings of helplessness and eternity terrify him, which is why he is so particularly scared of the abyss. Schaeres scares him because she is an incredibly powerful entity that actively means to harm him. He is compelled to hide by very few things and when he does hide it is incredibly temporary before he goes straight back into the world. This is a common flaw and strength he has.

Who does he trust most in the world. Least?

Most - The hidden king. He can keep a secret and is very dependable when you have his favour. This extends somewhat to Zeudi because she works directly under him and manages his affairs. Least - The small council (House Lysandri leaders)

Could he pick me up

Sigh. Yes. With magic, maybe not physically he isn’t that strong.

How much tea does he drink?

When he was studying he drank copious amounts of tea, now he forgets about basic needs and has to be reminded to drink water.

Who is his love interest? Can they fight?

He doesn’t have one. There is a bit of tension between him and Arlei but they never even begin to explore that. He is single.

What is his full name?

(Deep breath) Xaeren Corin Teyri, Runic of the Ponturesi, Arcani of Hiresias, Silmern and first of his name, the betrayer of Anosel, and binder the goddess Schaeres of Tamir’sul.

He doesn’t always introduce himself like that, just a few titles he has acquired in his travels. And these are only the titles he claims.

Adding the tag list to this one. Leave further questions in the comments.

@thelovelymachinery, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @winvyre

@happypup-kitcat24, @wyked-ao3, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @alnaperera, @dearunreliablenarrator

@rumeysawrites, @urnumber1star, @seastarblue, @thecomfywriter

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writing #xaeren writing #writers #oc questions

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stxrfclls · 1 month ago

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‘ priscilla quintana, cis woman, she/her, 32 / 320 , high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems XANTHEA RIVEN has been teleported to the dusk court, the SPY from WINTER is said to be ELUSIVE and is said to describe themselves with COMMANDING THE SPACE YOU ENTER, UNCERTAINTY IN EVERY CONVERSATION, TRUST AS A CURRENCY, A SPIDER WEAVING A WEB, BLOOD RED SILK and with all of this in mind their SERPENTINE nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time. ; written by honey.

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

full name . xanthea riven

nickname(s) . xan, thea

age . 32 appearance / 320 actual

sexuality . pansexual

occupation . spy

species . high fae ( half winter / half autumn )

loyalty . winter court

height . 5'5"

family . father - joran riven ( winter fae, soldier ) + mother - elysande auterra ( autumn fae, lesser noble ) step-father - cassian auterra. siblings - orien, isolde, rowan

𝐭𝐥:𝐝𝐫;

born to an autumn lady and a winter soldier, xanthea rejected courtly life early on, favoring weapons over etiquette and battle over ballrooms. leaving her mother’s world behind, she thrived in the winter court, embracing her wild nature and proving herself among warriors. clever, charming, and utterly unreadable, she walks into a room and demands attention without a word, her every move a carefully laid trap. now a spy, she weaves through courts with riddles on her tongue and secrets in her eyes, a wildfire in the snow, impossible to tame and even harder to outmatch.

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

xanthea riven should have been raised as an autumn lady, a mother holding the seat of a lesser noble house in the court who would have given her the world. only, xanthea never wanted any of it. raised until she was about 14/140, it was painfully obvious to any who knew her that the autumn court was not her home, the fire in her veins did not mean she was meant to be a lady of the court nor wanted to be. etiquette lessons ditched for weapons training, found attempting to slip out of puffy dresses hardly moments into the night. the girl was unruly, and her mother found that she didn't know what to do any longer.

and so xanthea moved to the winter court to live with her father, a soldier in the army who had once fallen for an autumn lady but it was never meant to be a love story. they co parented well, he visited often, but still it was more than clear that xanthea was better suited to his lifestyle than that of her mother's. instead of chilled weather and colorful leaves, she traded her life as a lady to one of a winter fae, daughter of a commoner, and was happy for it. xan still visited her mother often, saw her younger siblings when her mother eventually married and had more, but never wished to go back. she knew it hurt her mother, but xan thrived away from court and alongside other wild hellions like herself.

it's because of her father that she met lailah, and the two became fast friends. xanthea thought she would remain in the winter army for all her life, but as she began to grow in the court, flourish, she realized that her flirty, charming, and cunning ways were not made for such a life. she was destined for more. it just so happens that this lined up about the same time that her best friend took on a new role in the inner circle, and the story of how xan became a spy for the winter court is as old as time.

xan is a very intense person. she's the kind of woman who walks into a space and demands attention, even without saying a thing. her eyes miss absolutely nothing, and her lips hint at secrets all to tease, never to share. she speaks in riddles sometimes for fun, like a blade hidden in velvet skirts that's soft, smooth to the touch but hidden with a dangerous edge. she doesn't flinch, she doesn't falter, she moves as if she not only has played the game for years, but made the rules. you never really know if she's flirting, lying, setting a trap, or maybe even all three. she's a storm wrapped in silk, born for war and whispers and not the title of a lady attempted to be thrust upon her. she's a wildfire in the winter court, and certain to test anyone who tries to play her games.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

on main : tbd

other ideas : dalliances / flings / flirtationships / exes / friendships

✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 × spy of winter ❜, ✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × threads ❜

✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 × spy of winter ❜, ✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × inspo ❜

✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 × spy of winter ❜, ✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × dev ❜

✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 × spy of winter ❜, ✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × image ❜

#✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢��𝐞𝐧 × spy of winter ❜#✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × threads ❜#✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × inspo ❜#✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × dev ❜#✶ * ⁎ ⋆ 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 × image ❜#ofcourtfables:intro

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queenofcandynsoda · 1 year ago

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Sol Fertilis: Victory Week and Day

Victory Week and Day

Victory Day, also known as officially the Day of Victory in the Ardens Oriens War, meaning “Blazing East”, celebrates the defeat of Nazi-Ostania and Zandia and the end of the Ardens Oriens War on March 27th. This is a major part of Abbadon’s Inferno War. In the week leading up to Victory Day, Sol Fertilis observes Victory Week, a period of remembrance and celebration dedicated to honoring the nation's triumph in the Ardens Oriens War and the defeat of their enemies. It occurred from the 21st to the 26th of March.

The Departments of Art Promotion and National Holidays from the Ministry of Celebrations & Festivals would provide each household with Victory Day decorations, along with small Nazi-Ostanian and Zandia flags that look like they’re on fire, PNP Banners, Victory Wreaths, and memorial candles. Streets, Centers, malls, Children’s Palaces, workplaces, government buildings, and many other places would be decorated with Victory Day decorations, along with anti-Nazi Ostanian, anti-Zandian, and pro-Sol Fertilian propaganda.

On the first day of Victory Week, town squares across Sol Fertilis present documentaries that vividly depict the atrocities committed by Nazi-Ostania and Zandia during the Ardens Oriens War. The documentaries did not spare any graphic details of war crimes and crimes against humanity. There are images of Nazi-Ostanian soldiers killing Sol Fertilian citizens, bombing major cities during air raids, enslavement of citizens, mass murders of the Jews, Roma, Arab, and African Sol Fertilians, Zandian soldiers destroying religious monuments, etc. The purpose of this is to increase rage against Nazi-Ostania, which was already defeated, and Zandia, which has a conditional surrender and is suspected to house escaped Nazi criminals.

On the second day, citizens are presented with historical footage and audio from their teleautomata, which is a television with automatic activation capabilities, and an automataradio, which is a radio device equipped with automatic activation features. The historical footage consists of Sol Fertilian military leaders, soldiers, supporters, and citizens preparing for war to protect its sovereignty. The purpose of this is to remind the nation’s resilience and defense.

On the third and fourth days, this is where the Sol Fertilian children would prepare items for the Victory Day Parade. All of the Iuventutis Foederatios, meaning youth leagues, would prepare their decorations. Examples include the Ceres Gaia Junior Harvesters, a Beta Neutral Iuventutis Foederatios focus on agriculture, which would build a cornucopia of ration food that soldiers and citizens eat. Another is the Bona Flora's Bloomers, an Omega Iuventutis Foederatio focusing on floriculture, which would make garlands and bouquets that represent the Supervictus, a term for the survivors of the Nazi-Ostanian and Zandian atrocities. Another example is the Keres Scouts, an all-female Alpha Iuventutis Foederatio, who would build paper-mache figures of Sol Fertilis’ enemies so they would be burned down at the end of the week.

On the fifth day, there are films about major heroes from the Ardens Oriens War. Starting from the Sol Resistance Army to the “Witch of Berlint” Sigal Fleischer, to the Juvenile Soldiers who fought the Hässlich Youth, to the Berlint Theatre Massacre along with the eventual Beheading of Hässlich. These are the most iconic films and would be shown on primetime, depending on which channel. Also, the AlphaVigil, which is a short program for young Alpha children in the Centers and Children’s Palaces to instill a sense of rage towards Sol Fertilis’ enemies, would show recreations of war heroes’ fights to celebrate the triumph over enemies.

On the sixth day, there would be televised public executions of those who are convicted of High Treason, officially known as Altum Proditio. This type of High Treason mainly connects to Nazi-Ostania and Zandia as these traitors are convicted of being collaborators, terrorists, spies, assassins, seditious criminals, and secessionists. Once they are convicted, they are held in prison until it is the day before Victory Day. They are taken to the April 3rd Square where they are executed by either firing squad, hanging, burning at the stake, and, for the most severe offense, damnatio ad bestias via wolves. In Olympia, most of its citizens would be in person to watch and praise the executions as high-ranking government officials, such as Senators, Justices, and Patriarchs/Matriarchs, would watch them from the balconies. Citizens living outside Olympia are mandated to watch it on the screens in public squares, taverns, workplaces, Centers, post-Center institutions, malls, etc. Omegas, pregnant women, the elderly, and young children are the only ones to be excluded from watching the brutal executions.

On Victory Day itself, there is a massive festival around the nation with a military parade in Olympia. There were presentations on military strength and citizen resilience. There are floats from the Iuventutis Foederatios to show that the nation survived to be fertile. Citizens would eat “Victory Snacks” as they watch the parade. Sol Fertilian leaders and war heroes would watch from balconies and praise the military and Iuventutis Foederatios. Citizens would visit Ardens Oriens war memorials and museums to commemorate the soldiers, heroes, and Supervictus, which is a term for survivors of the Nazi-Ostania invasion of Northeast Sol Ferilis and the enslavement. There is a televised orchestra concert at the Minvera Theater with songs based on battles that Sol Fertilis won. At primetime, citizens would watch a documentary film that shows the entirety of Sol Fertilis’ involvement in the Ardens Oriens War, starting from Nazi Ostantia’s invasion of the north to the death of Hasslich, marking the end.

#sol fertilis #holiday #victory day #victory week #omegaverse #dystopia #dystopic #dystopian #dystopian omegaverse

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pyuart · 11 months ago

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Owien…

#my art #orien #my ocs #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h oc

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nickandros · 2 years ago

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so. our 2 year and three month long campaign ended last night. which means i get to post the final playlists for the two most co-dependent capitalist siblings in all of khorvaire.

now we're enemies : a playlist for frederick d'orien, the late head of house orien, the richest man in khorvaire.

your mom called : a playlist for hazel d'orien, the master artificer, the pride and joy of her house.

much love to my beloved players. i hope you enjoyed the campaign as much as i did.

#sharn's least wanted

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selchwife · 2 years ago

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i should type up the pfeil lore tbh since ive changed it up a little bit recently (very minor changes)

so to start off with pfeil was um. a bit of an oopsie. as has been previously discussed his biological father is thancred. his mother was a noblewoman in gridania; she and her husband were like the only keeper family of any real status in the city and so they were very image-concerned, but didn't particularly like each other. thancred did his typical thancred shenanigans and ended up having a brief affair with pfeil's mom. pfeil, when he was born, was clearly thancred's kid and not his dad's, so it was a whole thing. (to clarify a little, pfeil calls the man who raised him his dad and just calls thancred thancred, so i do it too because it's easier lol)

his mom decided the best way to deal with it would be to just forbid pfeil from leaving the house and kind of. hide him. "What baby? It was a stillbirth! I don't have any conspicuously half-hyuran children!" kind of deal. she also kind of tried to ignore him the best she could when he was growing up because she just really wished he'd vanish. his dad was more hands-on and was sometimes okay but was often egregiously abusive. the servants kind of tried to just stay out of it because what do you even do in that kind of situation? this is where the csa part of pfeil's backstory comes from but that doesn't need any further details.

anyway, since pfeil wasn't allowed to like, go outside and play or anything, he was kind of a weird kid in the beginning. he did a lot of reading and both of his parents encouraged it because it meant he was silent and out of sight, so he had access to pretty much any reading material he wanted as long as it was something convenient for his parents. his favorite subjects were history and adventure fiction.

eventually he just could not tolerate how his dad treated him any longer though and ended up getting the idea in his head to run away from home at about ten ("i've read books about Outside. I can handle myself!" mindset). this would have ended disastrously for him but luckily after a little while of his wandering around gridania CLEARLY lost as fuck mother miounne took him in. she agreed to let him stay at the inn at the carline canopy in exchange for work from him (child labor laws who?) and he agreed. he mostly just waited tables and washed up and he was very cute and the patrons loved him.

the calamity happened when he was 12 and he ended up getting injured and trapped. while he was trapped he saw the Vision From Hydaelyn one gets at the beginning of the game of their wol kicking lahabrea's ass. this is when he got his echo, and also when he decided he wanted to be an adventurer and HERO!!!!!!1 so obviously he goes home and is like "mother miounne let me join the adventurers guild" and she's like "ummm....you're 12. how about you uuuhhh go do odd jobs at bentbranch! that's an adventure!"

so he went and lived at bentbranch for the next five years and got Really Good at caring for chocobos, which became his special interest, and also at hunting using a bow and arrow. he was given a little leeway with hunting in his spare time because it was a useful skill in that it helped feed everyone who lived at the stables or worked there for very long periods, especially immediately post-calamity. as discussed earlier he did not like castrum oriens (i got the name wrong last night LOL), it was always something of a risk to go near it armed even though he was just a teenager with hunting equipment, and it disturbed the wildlife in the area which made his life a little harder. he definitely threw rocks when he thought he could get away with it lol. during this time he also ended up developing amnesia for a lot of his early childhood.

once he was 17 he felt confident enough in his skills with archery to join the adventurer's guild. and then everythign in his life went wrong. Actually it went great at first. at the end of ARR he's like "oh i'm the coolest hero boy ever and everyone loves me and i'm hydaelyn's gift to mankind" but the ARR patches were uhh...well they kind of disabused him of that notion. he had a massive mental breakdown at the beginning of heavensward, became a dark knight, and then awful things just Kept Happening! he did not start getting any better mentally until like, the tail end of endwalker, although he had a bit of a false start for winning at mental health during shadowbringers up until mt gulg.

anyway that's the sort of short pfeil primer. i have some more thoughts about individual expansions but we could be here all day

#csa ment #incest ment #abuse ment #none of this is graphic; it's literally just mentioned and not really described

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