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generalhumancloudalmond · 2 years ago

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Part 2: Friendship

Ending 1: White lilies

Ending 2: Red lycoris

...

Tea

Platonic!Yandere!Mori x Child!Fem!Reader x Platonic!Yandere!Dazai

You hated your position in this hospital office. Yes, you were grateful that you were sheltered and provided with everything you needed. However, you knew that you didn't belong here and it wasn't even a matter of a sense of morality, but of your stupidity. Besides Mori, Dazai and Elice, you had no one, so they became an unattainable role model for you. Elice was indifferent most of the time and only occasionally let out caustic phrases, and Mori and Dazai were smart: they had common secrets, they understood each other from half a word, and Mori himself liked to note their similarity to Dazai.

It would probably be better for you if you knew that you are normal, not stupid, normal. Yes, you didn't have the genius of these two, but you weren't any worse than the other kids. But surrounded by grown-up uncles and aunts-other doctors of this hospital and seeing that Elice is trusted with the same secret that Mori and Dazai keep, you became scared. What if you look stupid from the outside? Whether their secret is connected with you... Or are they just afraid that you'll ruin everything? Maybe you've already messed up something?

Afraid to hear the answer, you didn't ask these questions, but the idea that you need to leave them alone did not leave you, but only grew.

"Y/n, are you all right, are you some kind of silent lately?"

It was Mori, he turned in your direction and looked worried. Dazai also became alert, pushing some pills aside, he also looked at you. Moreover, at that moment, you stopped hearing the pencil scratching on the paper, Elice stopped drawing. You flinched.

Did they understand? Understand what you know about how stupid you are?

"If something has happened or someone has offended you, then you can tell me or Dazai and Elice, if it will be easier for you to confess to your peers."

The voice of the underground doctor sounds calm and even soothing, and you realize that you still have a chance to escape the ruthless truth. That's why you smile your stupid hateful smile, for which you are ashamed.

"No, nothing happened, just everyone is silent and I am silent too."

"I see."

Reluctantly agreeing, the doctor turns away, returning to the medical card. However, you still can't hear the pencils scratching and feel the piercing gaze of Dazai.

How could you, stupid you, even think that a fool like you could hide something from them?

"Y/n, is the real reason for your silence somehow connected with the mafia?"

You don't want to look in his direction, you don't want to see his penetrating eyes, so in an unusual manner you avert your eyes and cling to Elice's drawing. The girl immediately begins to finish drawing it.

"Maybe with an underground hospital?"

"No, Dazai, what do you want?"

A stupid question from a stupid you.

"Find out the real reason for your silence."

"Fine, but only if I can buy some tea before your interrogation."

By pretending to turn your nose up, you put Dazai in front of the fact. You want to get away from them, you want to escape, you need to escape.

Osamu wants to say something, but seeing Mori take out his wallet, he falls silent.

"Y/n, here you are."

"But there's more than I need. Do you want me to take something for you too?"

"No, nothing, just spend it the way you want."

"Okay, thanks."

After accepting the money, you leave the room and walk to the store. There is not a single good thought in your head, just a feverish attempt to come up with a decent lie for Dazai. You try to think through every question of the boy.

When you finally reached the store, that annoying thought, more like a dream, which has now begun to come true, suddenly hit your head. You want to leave, you can leave, you have to leave.

Yes, you can leave, but can you hide and avoid the hunt that the mafia will start on you? Will you be able to avoid Dazai, who will personally search every possible nook and cranny where you could go? Will you be able to avoid Mori, who will search every orphanage, every shelter where you could be taken?

#child reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #platonic dazai #yandere dazai #platonic yandere Dazai #platonic yandere Mori #platonic bsd #yandere bsd #platonic bungou stray dogs #platonic mori #yandere mori #mori ougai #mori ogai #dazai osamu

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arcstral · 3 years ago

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❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱ sender bandages receiver’s wounds

"You guys and your sharp objects." A somewhat nervous chuckle escapes Merric as he slowly and carefully bandages the cut on his liege's arm. Perhaps complaining about wounds sustained during training is somewhat hypocritical of him, he thinks - it is not as though he and his fellow Mages don't casually fling fireballs at each other during practice.

... But at least when you're a Mage, you can build something of a resistance to spells over time. A harder skin to less easily get slashed in half, he finds, is... a bit more difficult to work on. And so, even though he knows that this really, truly, seriously is a normal part of life for a swordsman, he still to this day finds it a little difficult to accept; the unpleasant memories of the couple times when a blade was forced into his hands for training, and the cuts he ended up with as a result, do not help.

Well, at the very least he can be of some help for this.

"... There you go," he says quietly as the bandage now covers the entire injury. Examining his work one last time, he shakes his head in (perhaps slightly pretended) vexation before pointing his finger into Lord Marth's chest with a smile. "Do me and Lady Caeda a favor and please be a little more careful next time, okay? You having a training accident is just about the last thing Altea needs right now... I can't bandage or heal everything, you know."

SELF - INDULGENT PROMPTS / NOT ACCEPTING

For all the sensibilities known to the prince of light, and for his every great quantity of grace, there are still moments in his life that renounce his claim to both. An hour prior, Marth had fumbled an innovative arc of his sword because his mind existed elsewhere. Anywhere but on the needle of steel sat within his hand.

Distracted by a distant cry of distress, his fingers released at a sharp angle and down plummeted his blade. It registered later that the voice in question belonged to a female squire who snapped her training sword harmlessly in two. The knowledge had seeped in with its relief sooner than the flaring pain.

What’s done is done, but for it a noticeable gash curls across his forearm from his latest venture to the training yard. Not yet detected by those who may raise an uproar. Thankfully. Whether here or there, Fòdlan or Archanea, he has found with guilt that an international king’s injury is not really his own. Others will worry for him far more than he does for himself. He has the decency to withstand a friend’s scolding in relative silence, though to be named Merric and not Elice in this endeavor means that Marth’s tongue remains far looser for it.

“ You mages with your books! “ he quips back with a laugh. “ Between your paper cuts and our blades, I, for one, think our accidents quite the same... “ His face lowers on the excuse, fixed somewhere between infinite amusement and embarrassment, as he spectates the healing process. He finds the round-and-round wrap of gauze around his arm a comforting methodology, lazily tracked with his eyes whenever his gaze does not flit upwards to gauge Merric’s concentrated expression.

In short time, the ribbon is tied on the underside of his wrist and he flexes against it experimentally. Perfect; but he straightens like a schoolboy against the finger jabbed against his chest, the mention of his bride-to-be a doubly effective grasp for his attention. “ —of course, of course. I know your point only well. Believe me, I wouldn’t hope to trouble you in this way again if it could be helped! I shall be more careful... “

Marth pauses. The exaction of his sweet eyes and temper will absolve him of all guilt with someone like Merric, he knows. The measure, however, is unneeded, and so—simply because he can—he takes the mage by the shoulders, softens his gaze, then lands a lightning-quick kiss right between his brows. “ Thank you, Merric. There is no greater gift in this world than a friend like you. “ A hop to his feet and the Hero-King with his newly mended wound all but dances away, fit as a fiddle.

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞#how many times has merric said he can't do smthn for marth #and how many times has he done it anyways :'^)#windsheedme

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lorspolairepeluche · 4 years ago

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Why do you hurt?

I was tagged by @thefluffynug and @bladeverbena to take this uquiz for some characters, and given that it was essie n smith who tagged me, i took it for halla and cohr.

Halla Trevelyan: you swallow pain & fold around it

you have always hurt. you hold it carefully, and twisted in such a way that other people don't have to see it. you don't choke on it. you don't drown. you just have it, the way some people have freckles, this is a thing that lives in your bones. you fold instead of fighting because you know how to make yourself small, tuck away the places where they have clawed at, swallow the bruises so you seem clean. nobody needs to see it. you will live through this on your own. you know what you need, and relief isn't it. this doesn't mean you cannot reach out - it means it is not in your nature to do so. you should. hiding does not mean you won't be seen.

as one of many middle children of a family without a mother, halla relied on few people besides her siblings while she was growing up. her father, though she loved him, was often away, leaving her with a stepmother determined to break and reshape halla into a proper lady. halla learned quickly with elice that being directly aggressive would only earn her more punishment. she kept her smile on when she was away from elice. she dealt with things on her own. but when she has people around her, really near her, that care? she can heal. she can bloom.

Cohr Rindaryen: this isn’t enough for you.

the words creep into your head in the dead of night one night and you cannot get rid of them. 'this isn't enough for me anymore'. you thought this was enough for you at some point, or maybe you hoped that it would be, but it isn't, and it hurts. you need to change something, or die trying. this - life like this - does not make life worth living. there is a lump in your throat that demands attention every waking moment of the day. there is pain in your body like a cavernous maw you cannot keep balance over. this is not what you wanted. you need to change. you can't stay here. it is not a character flaw you want more.

cohr is always searching for something -- for knowledge, first. then, when their place of learning, of belonging, was destroyed, they searched for a safe place to recuperate. and one day, they woke in their hammock on their ship, and they knew they had to go back. another search began -- for answers. for revenge. and along the way...maybe finding a place to belong again. maybe finding a way to be enough.

tagging smith again (DO NOTHINGBOY), @gwynbleiddyn, and @figmentera

#halla trevelyan #cohr rindaryen #thank u guys

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markoftheasphodel · 5 years ago

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trick of the light (nagamas gift for last-rocket-to-mars)

Here is my belated nagamas gift for @last-rocket-to-mars. I tried the Elice prompt at first, but in the end went with Character of your choice: 'Consequences' as it sparked something I’d wanted to explore for a long, long time. I hope you enjoy it despite the delay in its arrival!

trick of the light

“perhaps she found love, for her beauty blossomed”

From the moment Linde unsealed her father’s tome, she felt a presence accompanying her, like a feather-light touch upon her head, a gentle whisper just past her shoulder. She imagined it to be Father, for who else could it be? That gave her enough resolve to keep running, keep hiding, to stay alive another day and keep Aura bundled up and out of the hands of Father’s killer.

Somewhere on the terrible road between the ruins of Millennium Court and the hell of Knorda Market, Linde decided the other presence might, in fact, not be her father’s spirit. It seemed… younger, somehow. More like the echo of some imaginary friend, like the companions she’d dreamed up in childhood when she was too young to accompany Princess Nyna anywhere and had no one to play with or even to study alongside other than Father himself. And as much as she loved Father, sometimes in those days Linde did indeed wish for a friend her own age…

Linde muttered conversations to this echo of a friend as she slunk around in filthy boy’s clothes instead of the sacred robe from Father, her hair covered in rags to keep the leering interest of the slave traders at bay, Aura bound tight against her as though it might protect her by its heft alone. It helped her rest, even a little, to feel its presence as she slept. Aura felt like a friend.

When Prince Marth liberated her from Knorda Market’s horrors, Linde cast away the rags and unbound her hair— and unsealed Aura again with renewed purpose. Now she spun its rings of light freely, zealously, and a thrill rose in her chest as the dazzling spirals ensnared one villain after another. It was killing, for certain, but a holy deed even as it was a terrible one, and she had to remember to reserve the spell’s power only for the most dire moments when mere Fire or Thunder wouldn’t serve. She carried Aura now as the sacred relic it was, its cover rich violet and gleaming gold beneath the sun, and she wore the delicate mage’s robes given her by Father again, even when she studied the tome alone in her tent long past curfew. This was her calling, her duty, her inheritance— both the beauty of Aura and its terrible power. She wasn’t a Pontifex like Father, and perhaps would never be, but Linde tried to carry herself with the dignity and grace of a Pontifex whenever she could. Aura, and Father’s memory, deserved it.

It was some weeks after Prince Marth rescued her when Linde thought she noticed something odd when casting Aura, like another voice intertwined with hers during the incantation. She paid careful attention during the next skirmish and noticed that when she used basic Thunder spells against less-menacing foes, there was no such echo. Only when she used Aura, in this case to save Prince Marth from imminent peril, did that second voice whisper alongside hers in strange harmony.

It wasn’t Father’s voice.

Linde, of course, hadn’t the chance to actually complete any formal magical studies, but now she had some colleagues in Prince Marth’s army from the Academy at Khadein. She wasn’t quite ready yet to ask any prying questions of Pontifex Wendell, but the wind mage Merric from Altea had been kind and friendly to Linde since her arrival, and as he too bore a hallowed tome, he might have noticed something odd going on with his Excalibur. Not that Linde asked him directly— divine magic was such a prickly subject among mages— but she stepped lightly around the topic more than once when they practiced together. Merric didn’t seem to get what Linde was fishing around for, though, and meanwhile each time she used Aura the echo seemed to get stronger, more resonant, more a part of… of her.

During one of her solitary study sessions in her tent after curfew, things truly became weird.

“You like that boy, don’t you?”

The voice wasn’t something Linde heard with her ears. It was inside of her head. Her hands twitched and she very nearly slammed Aura shut with undue and ungraceful force.

“Who are you?” She mouthed the words without sound escaping her lips, the way she’d lit fires during her flight from the palace. Linde grasped for a name for this… this entity… and seized on the first thing that came to mind. “Echo?”

And then she heard what sounded like a laugh.

“I could be Echo. I’ve had many names. You might call me Phoebe.”

“Might?” But “Phoebe” sounded right somehow, and Linde mouthed anew, “Who are you then, Phoebe? What are you?”

“I am that which lends Aura its power.”

“Oh.”

This clarified nothing to Linde, for nowhere in her studies with Father had he talked about the source of Aura’s power, any more than he’d talked about how precisely it’d been bound to her as a protection.

“Protection,” said Phoebe, as though reading Linde’s mind… as perhaps she, or it, was. But Phoebe sounded happy. Was that… possible?

“Don’t ask again about Merric,” Linde mouthed as forcefully as was possible without making a sound.

And Phoebe only laughed then, in the dim light of the tent, but while she accompanied Linde in all the battles to come, she never did bring up Merric again… at least, not until the day when Prince Marth made the grave choice to bestow Starlight on one of them.

“Let the boy have it. You’re bound to me,” said Phoebe, as Prince Marth hesitated over the regalia tome.

“That is the only spell under heaven that can avenge Father.” Linde was so shocked, even angered, by Phoebe’s protest that she nearly said the words out loud. “Besides, is Excalibur not bound to Merric… the way you are bound to me?”

“It’s not the same,” said Phoebe, and she almost sounded… petulant.

“Are you praying for guidance, Linde?” Now it was Prince Marth speaking, and Linde flinched at the strange break between Phoebe’s voice inside her head and Prince Marth’s pleasant voice against her ears.

“Yes, Prince Marth,” she lied. “I believe you should bestow this tome upon Merric.”

The prince’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

“But… I would have thought… your father…”

“I am certain,” said Linde. She could see Merric’s face, surprised yet delighted, beyond Marth’s shoulder, and something in that delight made her heart sing the way it did when she unleashed Aura itself.

-x-

After Gharnef perished in an explosion of Starlight and Prince Marth slew the king of Earth Dragons like his legendary ancestor before him, Linde accompanied Princess Nyna back to Archanea to rebuild. Merric, meanwhile, followed his teacher Wendell back to the Academy, and it seemed their paths would be separate again. Linde might have liked to spend some time at the Academy herself, but her place really was at Millennium Court with Nyna, and so she restored Aura to its full potency and sealed it away, then set about joining Nyna in preparations for Nyna’s wedding.

“Why the sad clothes today, Linde?” Nyna asked one day as they worked on embroidery together.

“Oh, they’re not… sad, are they? I just… didn’t want people looking at me today.”

The light robes she’d inherited from Father always got her more attention than she liked, so that morning Linde had put on a full-skirted gown like the ones Nyna wore, in a blue-violet color quite like the shade of Nyna’s own eyes.

“I think they’ll be watching whether you wear your mage’s robes or a court gown,” said Nyna, and Linde felt she understood imperfectly but didn’t press the princess to clarify. The ways of women, as the ways of mages, were… thorny, at times.

-x-

Linde had no idea how thorny a woman’s path could be while she was embroidering to celebrate a marriage that went straight to hell so quickly none could fathom it. It was all she could do to escape the palace— again!— this time with both Aura and the Fire Emblem that Nyna urged her to give to Prince Marth.

Escape, again— but this time fully the mistress of Aura, resplendent in the robes that she’d earned the right to wear. Prince Marth again, and the path of war again… and Khadein, again.

This time, she helped save Merric (Phoebe rustled like a ghost in the back of Linde’s mind). This time, they scaled the mountains encased in ice to confront the Archsage in his temple and get some answers (some, not all, and Phoebe laughed). This time, she accepted Starlight from Prince Marth as they faced the resurrected Dark Pontifex (Linde heard a protest from Phoebe and refused to listen). This time, Linde stood by as Merric awoke Prince Marth’s sister Elice from an infernal trance and saw with her eyes what her heart hadn’t wanted to know all this time. So Linde tasted the power of the very stars, and Merric tasted… the lips of a princess.

And then, this time, they all went back to Millennium Court together, King Marth and his Queen, Merric and his princess, Linde and her collection of divine tomes (and Phoebe yet in her mind). The princess founded a new Academy of Magic, and Linde took her place at last among a community of sages and sorcerers (and Phoebe forgave her when Starlight was sealed away). Months passed, and years, and then half a decade…

The eyes still followed Linde. They still stared, from the back rows of her classrooms, from dormitory windows. Not Merric’s eyes, of course, which belonged to Princess Elice the way his magic belonged foremost to Excalibur.

“I can change that,” said Phoebe, her voice as childish now as it ever had been.

“What?” Linde, grand and disciplined Sage of Light, still knew better than to speak aloud to her invisible companion. But Phoebe subsided into strange twitters like a swallow under the eaves.

Linde, of course, knew now the source of divine magic, that the Archsage who founded Khadein and bestowed Aura upon Father was of the dragonkin, that Aura was a creation of the dragons as surely as King Marth’s Falchion blade had been fashioned from Divine Naga’s own tooth. Phoebe, it seemed, was indeed an echo— in this case the echo of a long-dead dragon, and quite possibly a dragon who’d gone a bit mad before dying. But most days she was quiet, as Linde rarely needed to open Aura for anything other than tame classroom instructions, and Linde worried about her less and less as half a decade turned to a full decade at the Academy.

She hadn’t married, and now the Sage of Light spent each spring both dodging poems sent her way by lovelorn students and and proposals from her fellow scholars. Her office overflowed with flowers. The eyes followed her, always.

And then one day, as they took a working lunch in a council chamber that hadn’t seen a war council in long years, Merric’s eyes turned to her with something more than collegial interest. He caught himself, coughed and flushed a bit, and Linde asked him in an overly solicitous way if he’d come down with a fever and perhaps ought to take the afternoon off. So they parted ways, and before long Linde stood again in her own office, behind a door that locked in the fragrance of so many unwanted offerings, and for the first time since the wars she demanded that Phoebe present herself.

“Of course now he wants you,” said the disagreeable dragon ghost. “Don’t you ever look at yourself? He can’t help but want you, because I’ve made you beautiful.”

And Linde looked, really looked, in the small scrying mirror she kept in her desk. She tried to see the woman in the mirror as a new student, a visiting scholar, an absent-minded old friend might see her.

“What have you done to me?” Her resolve and discipline cracked and the words escaped her lips as a terrible sound.

“I’ve made you beautiful as Light itself.”

Terrifyingly so— like the explosions of Starlight in the darkness of Dolhr, like the Morning Star blazing in the dawn, like the glittering treasures of the dragons’ temple hidden in the icy mountains.

“Why? How does anyone even imagine that I’m human?” Linde put her face down in her hands and was surprised she still had ordinary warm skin under her fingers. “You were bound to me for my protection.”

“You were bound to me for my protection,” said Phoebe. “And you haven’t even bothered to pick a successor for me. But he loves you now, so that should be easy. And if his princess objects to it… well, I can have you live just about forever if I need you to.”

Linde took in a deep breath that tasted of dusty roses and cloying lilies. There wasn’t anything to say, to whisper, to mouth without sound.

“From the day you unsealed me, you’ve been mine.” And the voice was like a dragon’s tail, curling, twining, binding. “I’ve served you well. Now, serve me.”

(A/N: “Phoebe,” meaning “bright,” was both a Titan associated with the moon and an epithet of the Greek goddess Artemis. It’s also a moon of Saturn. The detail about Linde not having a fellow mage as a friend until Merric comes from her support line with Marth in FE Warriors and the idea of the Aura as a “dragonstone” tome like the holy weapons of Jugdral comes from the SNES-era developers’ notes. Excalibur was not cited in those notes as being a dragonstone-powered weapon. I’ve always felt Aura did come across as sinister in Archanea and Jugdral, even before Three Houses provided yet another example of a divine gremlin hanging out in someone’s head.)

#nagamas #fire emblem ficcing #archanea love #text post #long post

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hope-for-olicity · 5 years ago

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - June 21st, 2019

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog. There are many great stories out there that I did not read - such as anything from S7, you should check those out too!

When Did It All Go Wrong multi-chapter WIP by @wrldtravler - After a mission with A.R.G.U.S. goes south, agent Oliver Queen learns something he shouldn't about Director Amanda Waller. Sent on the run when A.R.G.U.S. turns against him, he’s forced to seek out the one person that never wanted to see him again but whom he trusts with his life: his ex, Felicity Smoak. Putting their past behind them, the estranged pair come together along with John Diggle and Lyla Michaels to stop the looming threat. However, the past never stays buried for long. With their renewed connection comes great strength. But where there is strength, there is also great weakness – one that may cost them everything they worked to prevent. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019845/chapters/45169432

Lights Will Guide You Home multi-chapter WIP by behindblueyes72 - Warning "Lights Will Guide You Home" will be an intense story that will take you to some emotional places. It will be one hell of a ride but our Olicity will land in a beautiful loving spot. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209877

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

C: \Users\Flo>start “Worst Case Scenario”_ multi-chapter Complete by @steelrigged-blog - Oliver is kidnapped. In order to save him, Felicity offers herself in trade. It's his worst case scenario. Or at least it feels like it. The more Oliver works to unravel the problem and get his girl back, the more he realizes that nothing is as it seems... https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304465/chapters/25295535

The Way Back Home multi-chapter WIP by @it-was-a-red-heeler - When Moira Queen agreed to pay the ransom money to get her beautiful boy back she was told to keep silent and wait for instructions. She’s heard nothing for a week. Meanwhile, halfway across the country Felicity Smoak meets a homeless man with beautiful blue eyes. And no memories. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647716/chapters/44221912

One Step Ahead multi-chapter WIP by @stephswims - Felicity Acerbi is married to esteemed Italian mob boss. Married after a failed business deal with her father, she is forced into a life decided for her. That is until a new bodyguard is hired. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959333/chapters/39855036

ONE | (Oliver the Footballer) multi-chapter WIP @someonesaidcake - Felicity Smoak had a plan; to save enough money to kick her monotonous job and start up the company of her dreams. She made good plans, solid plans, attainable plans. He was never part of her plan. His name was Oliver Queen, the reclusive Brazilian football star with a broken smile and a story to tell. He'd never planned on her either. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005402/chapters/34779542

Providence multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated - Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she'll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move... And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17919056/chapters/42308753

Helplessly Wrecked multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue - A very smart, passionate, woman. Worked to get her dual masters from MIT, it may have taken longer being a mother of triplets but at least she has her mother’s support. Oliver Queen still has a yacht incident and was marooned for shorter time frame on a real deserted island. He never flunked out of his Ivy League schooling and is a very sought-after bachelor. His relationships never last more than half a year and is known to throw himself into his work. His motto ‘work hard play harder’. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194103/chapters/45628978

Mothers Know Best multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still jjpush for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921118/chapters/44918146

That's The Way It Is multi-chapter WIP by @stephswims - Felicity Smoak was arranged to marry Oliver Queen and uphold the Queen values and image. She complies to protect her own family name, but it's not what she really wants. Just for once, she wants to be able to decide her own future. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288078/chapters/45874270

Paging Dr. Smoak multi-chapter WIP by @laxit21 - When Oliver Queen gets into a car accident, he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak. He had no idea how much a chance meeting would change his life. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262497/chapters/40595483

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 // - let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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brightbeautifulthings · 6 years ago

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Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

"There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me."

Year Read: 2019

Rating: 3/5

Context: I took a contemporary American fiction class that loosely centered on 9/11 stories, including novels like Don DeLillo's Falling Man and Thomas Pynchon's Bleeding Edge. Since Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close wasn't on the list, I can only conclude that not only did my favorite professor not like Foer's novel (which I doubt informed his choice overly much; he had a tendency to spit whenever he talked about Jonathan Franzen, yet Freedom was still on the book list), he also didn't consider it important enough to teach. I find this both sad and hilarious. I gravitate toward 9/11 novels because it's one of those events that divides American culture clearly into Before and After. I'm new to Foer's fiction, but I probably wouldn't put it on my list either. Trigger warnings: death, death of a parent, death of a child, suicide, PTSD, trauma, anxiety, terrorism, falling, body horror, burns, graphic images, some snobby comparisons to DFW, and a total failure to condense my thoughts into < 1,500 words.

About: Nine-year-old Oskar Schell is devastated by his father's death in the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. More than a year later, he discovers a key among his father's belongings that doesn't fit any lock in their apartment. It's in an envelope labeled Black. Estranged from his mother and unable to connect with other kids his age, Oskar devises a plan to meet every person named Black in New York City and ask them if they met his dad. He's determined to reconnect with his father any way he can and learn the truth of their last scavenger hunt, but Oskar is haunted by his father's last messages on the answering machine from inside the tower and, since his body was never recovered, that he will never know the full truth of how he died.

Thoughts: Interesting premise, shaky execution. My overall sense is that if Foer had spent more time on the story and less on the structure, it would have been a more effective novel. It's like a lot of these kinds of books in being slightly weirder than the actual world. Nothing that happens absolutely couldn't happen, but it's highly unlikely that it would all happen together. (What kind of parent lets their nine-year-old wander New York City by himself, especially following 9/11 when everyone was highkey paranoid?) I don't mind experimental novels done well, but ELIC is experimental-lite at best and not altogether ground-breaking. The text is supplemented by photographs, pages of writing on top of writing, single sentences on a page, and various other stylistic diversions. It's not so overwhelming that a novice to this kind of fiction would have trouble following the plot, but with one or two exceptions, these additions don't feel like a necessary part of the text; the story would have read just as well, and possibly better, without them.

My favorite exception is the chapter edited by a red pen, the only confirmation we have that Thomas Schell ever read his absent father's letters, and an ironic comment that he had the emotional distance to grammar-check them; he even circled the "I love you" in the complimentary closing like he would circle a correction. The other exception is a tougher pill to swallow, and it's hard to imagine why Foer thought it was a good idea to include actual photographs of the falling man in his book. If you didn't know what it was, you might not realize what you were looking at right away, but the images of people jumping to their deaths out the windows of the World Trade Center are a ubiquitous part of 9/11 history. (Is it ubiquitous because books like this brought attention to it? I was in middle school, so I don’t remember.) Like most things that are done for shock value, putting them in the book is in extremely poor taste.

I don't care that much for Foer's prose. The chapters cycle among Oskar, his grandmother, and his grandfather's perspectives. Oskar's chapters read exactly nothing like a nine-year-old kid's and seem mostly an excuse to include juvenile humor, random facts, and quirky observations (much more, in fact, like a 20-year-old male writer's perspective). His grandfather's are an onslaught of run-on sentences, comma splices, and spelling mistakes, and as a father who walked out on his wife and unborn child, he's possibly the least sympathetic character in the story. Much like real life, characters wander in and out of the narrative without any attempts at reason or closure. This is most noticeable with the Mr. Black who lives in Oskar's building, who randomly decides to remove himself from Oskar's search for no apparent reason and is never heard from again.

There are attempts to draw parallels among Oskar's experience with 9/11, his grandparents’ experiences with the bombing of Dresden, and, more loosely, the atomic bombings in Japan. Aside from the fact that they're all tragedies that leave dead and traumatized people in their wake, I have a hard time comparing 2,000 deaths to 20,000 deaths to a potential 200,000 deaths. (Once you start adding zeroes, is that not a whole different level of atrocity?) The book does better justice to 9/11 than any of the others, and it's an interesting look at how we struggle to make meaning after something so horrific and meaningless happens to us.

In that respect, the novel itself is an act of meaning-making as we struggle to piece together the various kinds of text and the different perspectives and timelines. Like most books of this kind, it puts a lot of responsibility on the reader to make it into a coherent story. Like most books of this kind that aren't done that well, it doesn't do enough work of its own to make a meaningful story. I wasn't expecting closure from a book like this (which is good because there is none to be had), but there's also no impression that Oskar is bringing his experiences together in a meaningful way--so there's no chance for the reader to do that either. The overall message seems to be that there IS no meaning to them. On one level, I might agree; it may be impossible to bring meaning to the death of a parent, particularly one who died in such tragic circumstances.

But the other stuff, the living part where Oskar met so many people and affected so many different lives, is open-ended to a frustrating degree. It's not quite as nihilistic as a lot of post-9/11 fiction; Oskar's search ultimately brings him back to the most important people in his life, which is a strong message, but it doesn't bring a whole lot of sense to anything leading up to that. Forcing readers to draw their own conclusions is a fine strategy, but I would have preferred to see Oskar's conclusions as well after I followed him through an entire book. In that respect, the film does a much better job in bringing Oskar's experiences together into something meaningful. We get to see how it was actually a bonding experience for him and his mother, and how touching all those lives brought something important to them and to him. This is the kind of thematic closure I was hoping for from the book, and the film just made it more obvious that it isn't there.

Notes on David Foster Wallace connections: I'm one of those terrible snobs who compares every contemporary literary fiction novel written by a white dude to Infinite Jest, and Foer doesn't seem at pains to hide the references. My favorite is a picture Oskar has of a tennis player on the ground, but he notes that from the expression on his face, we can't tell if he's won or lost. This is an A+ IJ reference, since it's rife with tennis players, sinister smiley faces, and confusion over whether people are laughing or crying. The others are more inscrutable. I have no idea what to make of Oskar playing Yorick in his school play, other than that his teachers are strangely morbid in dressing up a kid in a papier-mâché skull to play a dead guy. I'm sure that's not traumatizing at all. IJ is a loose Hamlet retelling, so Foer could have picked any other Shakespeare play to avoid the reference; I'm just not sure what it's saying. The last includes mild spoilers for both IJ and ELIC, so proceed with caution. In possibly the weirdest and most pointless detour of the book, Oskar and his grandfather dig up his father's empty casket and fill it with notebooks. Again, I have no idea what to make of this. While Oskar is very bothered by the fact that it's empty, we don't get the sense that he gains a lot of closure from this mad adventure. It's clearly a parallel to Hal and Gately digging up Himself's grave, except in IJ, they have good reason for doing so. Thoughts and theories from people who have read both? I'm interested to hear interpretations.

#book review #Jonathan Safran Foer #Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close #literary fiction #9/11 fiction #experimental fiction #3/5 #rating: 3/5 #2019

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darkpetal16 · 6 years ago

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Ennichi Festival

My Hero Academia © Horikoshi

Kiyomi © Darkpetal16

This is an omake from the fanfiction Hail Friendship!

Time frame: First semester.

Ennichi Festival

I yawned in my seat, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Eh? Sleepy?” Ochaco asked, taking her seat beside me.

“Mm. I guess. I had to stay up late last night.” “Huh? How come?”

“My aunties came over last night to adjust my yukata, but they ended up making a new one. I had to stay up last night while they took measurements, and fussed over it. I didn’t get to bed until three and then I had to get up at four to help with farmwork.” I gave another big yawn, resting my head on my desk.

Ochaco reached over and rubbed my back. “Sounds rough. How come you need a yukata?”

“Ah? Oh for the Ennichi Festival tonight—”

“Eh?!” Ochaco’s voice switched several octaves higher than usual as she squealed. “The Ennichi Festival is tonight?! Oh my gosh, thank goodness I got my paycheck. Oh I can’t wait to go. So you’re going, too?”

“Yeah, Sho-chan asked to go see the fireworks together,” I answered her.

Ochaco squealed again, grabbing her cheeks. “Oh my gosh it’s a date!”

“It’s not a date,” I corrected her tiredly. “Ugh. I need coffee.”

Despite my insistence it was not a date Ochaco kept giving me a sly look, with my only reprieve when she went to go tell Toru about the festival outside of class. Even after the rest of our friends arrived and classes started she still occasionally shot me a smug smile.

As soon as classes ended that day I hurried home before she could tease me further.

Momo’s perspective, before class

Momo heard Ochaco and Toru shouting excitedly outside of the classroom. Curious, she approached them (wearing her standard gentle smile) and inquired, “Uraraka-san, Hagakure-san, you both seem very excited. What are you girls going on about?”

“Ah, Yaoyorozu-san!” Toru chirped. “I visited a shrine and there was a sign about the Ennichi festival that’s happening this evening.”

“Ennichi?” Momo repeated slowly. “It must be a shrine that is directly related to the religion of Shinto or Buddhism. They perform a special ritual there where food is offered. I apologize, I didn’t know Hagakure-san was so deeply spiritual.”

“No, to me Ennichi is all about the celebration and not so much the religion.”

“Celebration?” Momo tilted her head in confusion. “But the festival should be all about preserving and continuing the tradition of remembering Buddha.”

“Goodness, that’s just wro-o-ong!” Toru cried out.

Ochaco added, “Yaoyorozu-san you’re way too serious about the history. You’ve got to be more open-minded.”

“Yeah, our view of Ennichi festival is all about the fantastic food stalls. Okonomiyaki, yakisoba, you can feast on them all and be glad about it!”

“Ah, so that’s what Ennichi festival is all about,” Momo concluded, believing she understood now.

“It’s good that you get it, do you want to come with us?” Ochaco offered, grinning hugely.

Momo’s brow furrowed and she looked away. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to exclude myself from this get together. I don’t think I have the opportunity to go this time around.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Eh? But it’ll be so much fun,” Toru whined.

Momo shook her head regretfully. “My mother definitely wouldn’t allow it. She told me not to bother with the sweets and snacks the festival sells, because real dessert specialists can make better stuff than those unhealthy sweets. And also because you’re bound to get sick from festival food.”

“Your mom antagonizes the festival too much,” Toru told her. “I think she made all the stall owners her enemy. Just throw back a bit and enjoy!”

“Enjoy?”

Ochaco frowned. “Um, Yaoyorozu-san, could it be that you have never been to the festival before?”

“No. Ever since I was a child I was told by my mother that it is not necessary to go.”

“WHAT A WASTE!” Ochaco and Toru cried out, genuinely upset by such horror.

Ochaco was quick to follow up with, “How could you miss such a fun and tasty event?”

“Really! You do know that it’s such a fun place, right? This festival is the essence of the Japanese spirit. It’s the heart. As a girl, there’s no way you can pass this chance to go.”

“Oh…”

“Ah, Hagakure-san, let’s stop pushing her,” Ochaco said quietly, looking over at Momo’s conflicted expression. “Yaoyorozu-san should have the right to decide for herself. It’s her own choice whether or not to go. Yaoyorozu-san we’re sorry if we made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s okay,” Momo reassured them, her expression still conflicted as she thought about their previous statements.

Toru and Ochaco gave her bright smiles before taking their leave, deciding to invite the other girls in class. Momo watched them leave, wondering what she should do.

‘The Ennichi must actually be really fun,’ she thought to herself.

Later that night

‘I-I can’t believe I came here by myself,’ Momo thought worriedly to herself. She stood at the entrance of the festival, anxiously shifting her weight as she tried to work up the nerve to go in.

A part of her was thrilled—the festival seemed so exciting!—but another part of her was terrified of what her mother would say if she found out.

“Huh? Momo-chan?”

Momo looked over nervously at the voice, relieved to find that it belonged to one of her classmates, Kiyomi. The class rep had dressed up in a stylish red yukata, her hair swept up in a neat bun with a few curls poking out. Momo thought she looked cute in that, and seeing Kiyomi smile brightly at her made her reflexively smile back.

It was hard not to smile back at Kiyomi.

Momo waved at Kiyomi, not surprised to find Shōto—in casual clothes which seemed lackluster in comparison to how much Kiyomi had dressed up—beside her and holding her hand. “Hi.”

Kiyomi’s eyes brightened. “You look so adorable, Momo-chan! That yukata really suits you.”

Momo blushed, looking down at her own dark blue yukata. It was something she had made on the fly, so she wasn’t certain it was up to the standards of everyone else. It felt nice to be complimented on it, though.

Kiyomi nudged Shōto. “Doesn’t she look pretty, Sho-chan?”

Shōto looked over at her. “You look very nice, Yaoyorozu-san.”

Momo gave a small giggle at that. “Thank you both. Are you here on a date?”

“Mn-mn!” Kiyomi denied, shaking her head. “Sho-chan and I are here mostly for the fireworks. Did you come by yourself?”

“Oh, um, actually, yes,” Momo admitted shyly. “I—I have never been to a festival, so, I, um.” The young heiress couldn’t resist fidgeting anxiously with the end of her sleeves.

Kiyomi approached Momo, taking one of her hands and intertwining her fingers. “Then why don’t you spend the night with us? The fireworks won’t happen for a while longer, and we can show you around the festival.” “Oh, I couldn’t impose—”

Kiyomi gave Momo’s hand a squeeze, her gaze softening. At times Momo felt like Kiyomi acted like a mother when she looked at others with that gaze. Her eyes sometimes appeared to belong to someone older, but still kind. “I insist.”

Momo relaxed minutely under that look, giving a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

“Mn! Don’t mention it,” Kiyomi said, holding out her other hand for Shōto to take it. Her childhood friend obliged, and the three of them began their journey into the festival.

Kiyomi swung their hands back and forth for a bit a she guided them towards the first booth. “Hehe! First thing’s first and that’s food.”

Momo’s expression momentarily clouded, recalling that her mother would detest her eating such “junk food” as she would call it. Kiyomi ordered three takoyakis and handed them to Momo and Shōto before keeping one for herself.

Momo automatically accepted the food, even as she reluctantly stared at it. Kiyomi seemed to be thoroughly enjoying hers—she was already nearly finished devouring it and was trying to steal some from Shōto who swatted her hand away with habitual ease.

When she noticed that Momo had touched any of her own food, however, she looked over at her with concern. “Momo-chan? Are you allergic?”

“Ah, no,” Momo responded, biting on her bottom lip for a brief moment. “My mother wouldn’t like me eating this kind of stuff.”

“Hmm,” Kiyomi hummed. “Well, sometimes what mothers don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Momo gave her a scandalized look. “But—”

“Go on, give it a try. It’s your first festival, you have to try all the food,” Kiyomi insisted, a gleam in her eyes. Under Kiyomi’s encouragement Momo took a tentative bite.

Momo’s eyes widened. “Oh my! This is actually really good.”

“Ri-ight? Festival food is always the best. 50-50 chance you’ll get sick later, but it’s completely worth it,” Kiyomi said cheerfully.

Shōto wrinkled his nose at that. “You’re not the one holding back hair.”

“And thank you in advance for that,” Kiyomi giggled, playfully nudging Shōto. She also tried to swipe his last takoyaki but he quickly popped it in his mouth before she could do so. “How rude!”

“I will buy you another one if you stop trying to steal from me.”

“But stolen food tastes so much better!”

Momo giggled at Shōto’s exasperated expression. Kiyomi stuck her tongue out before her face brightened. “Let’s try all the food now!”

“Okay,” Momo agreed, curious and excited to see what else might taste as good as takoyaki. Kiyomi held Momo and Shōto’s hands as they went to each food stall, and without fail she continuously tried (and never succeeded) to steal food from Shōto. It was entertaining for Momo to watch, finding their friendly banter and relaxed demeanour calming. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been incredibly nervous about coming to the festival on her own, but she was genuinely glad she had.

Near the end of the food stalls the trio took a seat at one of the benches. Momo rubbed at her stomach, letting out a content sigh. “All of that food was really great.”

“Mm-hmm,” Kiyomi agreed, leaning heavily on Shōto and sighing. “I could eat festival food my entire life.”

“You’d get sick of it after a week,” Shōto corrected her.

“Don’t be a stick in the mud.”

He reached over and tugged on her hair, eliciting an mock glower.

“Oh!”

The trio looked up to find Ochaco and Toru from their class heading over to them with their arms filled with food. Both girls were dressed in cute yukatas, with Ochaco wearing a pale pink and Toru a baby blue.

“Yaoyorozu-san, you made it,” Ochaco said cheerfully. “How do you like it?”

“It’s a lot of fun,” Momo admitted with a smile. “Kiyo-chan and Todoroki-kun have been showing me around.”

“If we knew you were coming we would have waited for you,” Toru exclaimed. “Where else have you been? Did you see the games yet?”

“Oh not yet.”

“You have to come with us,” Ochaco said, grabbing Momo’s hand. It was impressive she was managing to hold all her food with one arm. She looked over at Kiyomi and gave the pinkette a wink.

Momo found it odd that Kiyomi’s cheeks turned red and she looked away with a huff.

Toru, catching Ochaco’s hint, grabbed Momo’s other hand. “Yeah, c’mon. Let’s eat together over here.”

Momo smiled at that, happy that her classmates wanted to spend time with her. She felt bad about simply leaving Kiyomi and Shōto, however, since both were kind of enough to be her escorts. She looked back over at them. “Oh, I don’t mean to simply leave—”

“It’s okay, as long as you have fun,” Kiyomi reassured her with a smile. “Text me before you leave and I’ll walk you home, okay?”

“Thank you!” Momo responded, sincerely grateful for that offer. With a big smile on her face she allowed Ochaco and Toru to drag her off for more food and to play games.

It was truly a wonderful and memorable night for Momo.

Kiyomi watched the trio leave before she looked back over at Shōto and gave him a soft smile. “You want to go find a spot for the fireworks now?”

“Yeah,” Shōto said. “Can you get us up there?” Shōto pointed towards one of the hills by the shrine.

Kiyomi took his hand and with ease she teleported both of them atop the hill in one of the trees. She took a seat on the sturdy branch, Shōto following suit. Their hands rested in her lap where she played with their fingers as they patiently waited for the fireworks.

Neither felt the need to break the comfortable silence. The weather was nice, the sky was clear, and the fireworks would be starting shortly.

“Kiyo-chan?” Shōto asked.

“Mn?”

He looked down at their hands, his brow furrowed. “You look very nice, too. Nicer than… than others.”

Kiyomi giggled at that. “Thank you, Sho-chan.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but the fireworks started and their attention was drawn up towards the sky.

They always watched fireworks together, after all.

And at the end of the night Kiyomi did what she always did after they would watch fireworks. She leaned over and kissed Shōto’s cheek goodnight and said, “Thank you for taking me to see the fireworks.”

“Always,” Shōto promised her.

Reviews are love.

#Hail Friendship #BNHA #mha #my hero academia #shouto todoroki #momo yaoyorozu #ochaco uraraka #toru hagakure #omake #ennichi festival #oc #kiyomi marin #fluff #fwuff #fanfiction

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sexysilverstrider · 8 years ago

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Hey, so I saw those asks about Marth and Caeda meeting their tiny descendants and I just had to write a little something…Although this little something turned out a bit longer than I expected…But I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~

How had they gotten here? How do we get them home? Where did they come from? When do they come from?

These questions and many others had ran through Marth’s mind a few weeks ago when he and Caeda had entered the throne room of their castle to find three mysterious, confused, and deeply frightened young children.

The oldest was a girl around ten years old with long golden hair and a cautious but steady look in her eyes. In her arms, looking around curiously, was a baby girl who couldn’t be more than a year old, tufts of gold hair on her head. Beside the pair was a blue haired boy who looked to be four years old, looking at Marth and Caeda with distrust while clutching at the older girl’s dress in his small hands.

It had taken a lot of coaxing from Marth and Caeda to get the answers they needed from the children. The three were siblings, the royal children of a land called Ylisse, and none of them had any idea how they had arrived in Altea Castle. The oldest was Emmeryn, the boy was Chrom, and the baby was Lissa. Then came the more unbelievable revelation: the children were his and Caeda’s descendants.

It was a bizarre claim, one that under other circumstances Marth probably would never believe. But there was something about those children, who did somewhat resemble him and Caeda, particularly Chrom…those marks on Emmeryn and Chrom…the way his Falchion had reacted when Chrom had touched it while Marth was distracted. It was true, wasn’t it? These were his distant descendants who had somehow ended up in the past, in his time. And he had to get them home soon. Who knew what consequences this could have on the future the longer the children stayed here?

The children had been staying in Altea Castle in the weeks since their sudden appearance. With Marth and Caeda having only recently been married, letting the children’s existence be known outside the castle would cause unneeded scandal. Marth had plenty of historians and mages working on figuring out some way to send the children back to their time, but there had been nothing so far. If answers didn’t start coming soon then he’d have to go to Tiki and see if she can figure out an answer with Naga’s assistance. While that had been going on, Marth and Caeda had to juggle the expected responsibilities of being a king and queen and the unexpected responsibilities of being surrogate parents.

They had originally tried to let the servants of the castle care for the children, but it that idea quickly turned sour. Chrom was too wary and Lissa would cry so much, with Emmeryn being the only one who could keep them in check. Marth and Caeda were the only one who the children felt the most at ease with. It was understandable, Marth supposed. They were so young and trapped in a place they didn’t know. Of course they’d want to stay close to the two people they were most familiar with, even though the most they probably knew about Marth and Caeda were from history books. It had been a hassle but the king and queen soon adjusted to balancing politics with child care. And as the weeks passed, Marth got to know his descendants rather well.

Young Emmeryn was the easiest to care for, always so polite and mature, listening to them and helping when her younger siblings were too much. Marth couldn’t help but recall fond memories of Elice every time he saw Emmeryn with her siblings. Yes, Emmeryn was easy to care for…and yet, she was a puzzle for the longest time. Never talking of her worries, never asking anyone for anything, always keeping her thoughts to herself except for when she insisted that she was fine, that she was grateful for everything Marth and Caeda were doing.

The barrier that was between them only broke when Caeda happened to hear a sleeping Emmeryn crying. A little gentle persuasion was all it took for Emmeryn to finally talk to them. About how she wanted to go home, about how scared she was that she’d never see Ylisse again, about the recent death of her mother, about her father and his growing obsession with a devastating war between Ylisse and another land called Plegia, about how the people were angry and suffering and how she just wanted peace. Caeda held Emmeryn as she cried while Marth had left the room, those worries that Emmeryn had brought up hitting a little too close to home. She had stayed strong all this time for the sake of her siblings, but she was still a child herself…That night changed things between them. Whenever things became too much, Emmeryn was now more comfortable coming to Marth or Caeda for a talk, or simply just sit by them in peaceful silence.

Lissa, being a baby, caused her fair share of troubles. Caeda had joked, as Lissa yanked on her hair, that this would be excellent practice for that day she and Marth became parents. Marth had decided not to voice his thoughts that, after all this, it would be a good few years before he’d be ready to take a shot at fatherhood. Lissa had quite the set of lungs on her and a strong love for shiny things, especially Marth’s crown and Caeda’s lance. Marth was thankful the people of the castle chose not to bring up how exhausted he and Caeda looked after taking care of Lissa on some of her bad days.

But even with all of those issues, it hadn’t taken long at all for Lissa to charm Marth and Caeda. She had the most precious laugh and a smile that made all their trouble feel worth it in the end. After a long day of debating with officials or an exhausting battle, seeing little Lissa smiling and reaching out to them took the stress away, if only for a little while. Of course, they had run into a little trouble when Lissa started calling them “Mama” and “Papa” and worked quickly to try and fix that before any rumors started. Although, it had felt nice to be called that, if only for a little while. As Marth watched Caeda gently rocking Lissa, he couldn’t help but long for that day he and Caeda could do this with their own children.

Chrom was…an experience, to put it lightly. Marth felt that Caeda hadn’t been joking when she said she spotted a couple gray hairs on his head. The boy seemed to attract trouble wherever he went. Breaking expensive vases and statues, constantly getting unnervingly close to someone’s weapon (particularly Falchion), running off and hiding whenever he pleased. He was a troublemaker to the bone, Emmeryn being the only one who could really keep him in check. And there was that one time Chrom messed with Caeda’s pegasus…By the end of that incident Marth had a headache, Caeda swore she had an ulcer, and that pegasus probably had a death wish for Chrom. Honestly, with how much trouble young Chrom caused sometimes Marth wondered if the boy truly was a descendant of his.

However, at other times, he really could see himself and Caeda in the boy. He could see it when Chrom felt protective of his sisters, when he talked about wielding Falchion when he grows up so he can protect people, when he showed his confidence and his insecurities, when he revealed that endless kindness. And, despite how he acted at times, Emmeryn had informed Marth of Chrom’s willingness to put his trust in almost anyone. A worrying but rather admirable quality, Marth had to admit. And the boy was truly endearing when he ran up to Marth with a storybook and an eager expression on his face, or when he excitedly showed off a new sword move to Caeda using a small wooden practice sword.

Yes, the three children were certainly a handful to raise, but they were family to Marth and Caeda. So of course they would look out for them until they found a way to bring them back to their home, to their own time. Marth wondered if the children would forget about their weeks spent in Altea Castle when that day arrived. Actually, would Marth and Caeda remember them once they went back? How did this time travel stuff work?

“You worry too much, Marth,” Caeda whispered.

The children had all fallen asleep on the bed in the guest room Emmeryn had been staying in, Emmeryn and Chrom on either side of young Lissa. Caeda carefully arranged the blanket around them while Marth gently removed the storybook that lay on Emmeryn’s lap.

“The idea that they may forget all this is…sad,” Marth admitted, “But the thought that we may forget them is even worse.”

“Whatever happens will happen,” Caeda said as the pair headed to the door, “But even if they don’t remember their time here, it will take all the magic in the world to make me forget them.”

Marth chuckled at that, turning to look at the children. He smiled as he saw Emmeryn sleepily reach her arm out to her siblings, Chrom snuggling closer to his sisters as Lissa let out the softest yawn. He noticed Caeda regarding him with a fond expression.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” she replied, linking their arms and resting her head on his shoulder as she smiled at the children, “I feel the same way.”

Marth let out a sigh at that. The children had to return to their timeline. He would talk with Tiki tomorrow to figure something out with Naga. They may have no idea what brought them here but there must be a way to bring them home. It wouldn’t be right for them to stay here. Rumors and scandals aside, Marth and Caeda would only grow busier in the passing weeks. They had a country to rule, foreign royalty and dignitaries to talk with, alliances to form, people to take care of. As much as they both had grown to love Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa they also knew very well that they belonged elsewhere, that they would have to say their goodbyes soon.

But, gods, Marth and Caeda were going to miss them…

THIS IS SOSOOS GOOD AND JUST PURE FOR MY HEART JUST WHAT I NEED I LOVE IT SO MUCH I SMILED SO WIDE IN THE MORNING THANK U ANON THANK U SOSOOS MUCH

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!#marth #caeda #chrom #emmeryn #lissa #fire emblem #anon #submission

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royalrapier · 8 years ago

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earth, aldebaran, hydra, andromeda, supernova

Earth: Where’s your home?

“Home is where the heart is, as they say, but... Altea will always truly be where I belong.”

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about?

“Elice is my only remaining family. I truly treasure her more than anything in the world.”

Hydra: Favourite sound?

“Rain beating on windows. Something about the gushing storm outside not being able to reach you within your room is very soothing to me.”

Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social?

“Oh, I suppose so. I do enjoy being in the presence of friends and like meeting new people. I don’t find talking to anyone very hard, though that might also in part be thanks to my upbringing.”

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die?

“I would like to perhaps travel the world and learn more about lands beyond our continent of Akaneia. There’s just so much to see, you know?”

#steci memeing #i really enjoyed answering these tf #ofchrysopoeia

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lumivall · 6 months ago

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And where they are falling towards. Well, only destiny knows.

Elic belongs to me :]

Starlight belongs to @shadows-coffeebeans ! Go check them out! They draw great stuff, and the lil bean is just too sweet!

#Elic the hedgehog #starlight the hedgehog #sonic art #Sonic OC #sonic fanchild #sth #Sonic art #sonic the hedgehog #digital art #lumiart

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arcstral · 4 years ago

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Drabble: 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑

The first observation that alights upon him is the stench. The medley of old dried blood, unwashed hair, and ammonia-piss staled beneath the desert sun. A rank fetor that he could not have imagined belonging to any civilized man, much less a properly knighted one who once served under a kingdom’s banner. Beneath the formerly noble Hardin, least of all.

“..If it isn’t the ever illustrious Marth. Your light is blinding as always, lord. A sure model of perfection in everything you have wrought and attained!” Wolf greets unkindly, a mocking semblance of the proud warrior he once was as he leans over his rusted bow. Marth had seen that bow dearly loved and oiled in the previous war. Now he sees it plucked from grace just as its master.

A knight without purpose, without a lord’s greater cause to purify the honorable designs of his body and soul, is no better than any lawless barbarian that dots Anri’s Way. If not him, this opinion surfaces by the wrinkled noses of Kris and Cain, disgusted by what they behold and holding in their tongues. Breathing thinly from their mouths. Marth himself steels; he does not dilute his reception of these perversions. His judgement must ring true.

“My apologies for not noticing it sooner, Wolf. Roshea has filled me in on the details. I see now that you are a harm to yourself and to the morale of your fellow knights. I will deal with you. Before then, I would hear what you have to say.”

“..You? Deal with me?” Wolf spits, eye-whites glaring and his pupils quivering with rage like a stuck, doped bull. Marth had meant his words compassionately but somehow it is the wrong thing to say. “If you have given me leave to voice my sickening thoughts, then I will say them, Marth. You are the reason I am driven to these infernal pits! Hardin’s killer; King-slayer!!”

‘Hero-King’ was not his only title. He has known this, speculated it to be the truth long before Wolf uttered his fears aloud, yet it does not strike him as any less painful. Marth jolts as if he were slapped, then shoves Kris back with his elbow, unthinking but rightfully expectant that the knight will charge forward to dash the Aurelian’s head from his shoulders. At least Cain and Jagen had the wise benefit of a few more years to temper their emotions. He is lucky Merric keeps Elice company in the palace, lest his Excalibur show the man to an untimely end spattered across the sands of his forefather’s pilgrimage.

“..Forgive me,” he says, and is only able to say, his fists clenched. Jiol, Medeus, Hardin. He has performed regicide thrice over the course of two wars but in Hardin’s case alone he has not found cause to savor it in the slightest.

A mere three weeks have passed since the war, a simple one since he has ascended the Archanean throne. Marth learns that it will be months and years before he earns the love of all the people and knights who he proclaims to rule.

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › gathered wits ‹ INTROSPECTION. ◞#Dont mind me...... just an unhappily realistic fe3/12 drabble u__u #i think about marth a Lot but also about wolf #marth killing hardin then ruling over his former knights all fine & dandy?#beyond sedgar and roshea and vyland i do not See it.

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hope-for-olicity · 6 years ago

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - March 1st, 2019

Will Fate Allow? multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Seeing her parent's marriage dissolve at a young age made Felicity yearn for a healthy marriage of her own. She thought she'd finally found what she was looking for when Billy Malone showed up offering her what her heart desired. She thought she was happy and had everything she could want, but things began to unravel. Slowly she turned to someone who had become an unparalleled constant in her life...Oliver Queen. Oliver and Felicity are the definition of polar opposites. He is the mob boss that strikes fear in the hearts many, while she is seen as the sweet girl next door, but there is more to both of them underneath the surface. Along the way, they become connected to one another leading to their lives being intertwined forever. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521596/chapters/38699951

The Fan multi-chapter WIP by @leuska - For the past couple of months, Felicity Smoak, previous child star known to the world through her alter ego Lisy the Tech Whiz, who ended her career and her growing popularity at the age of thirteen rather abruptly, has sporadically received disturbing notes and gifts in her mail. Police believe the notes to be just little tokens of appreciation by a former fan. Despite having left the spotlight over a decade ago and living in anonymity since, the fan mail keeps coming, increasing in frequency as well as intensity. The last drop is when Felicity receives another letter with a love note. A scary, ominous note. A note written in human blood.FBI director Amanda Waller tasks her best Agent to the case. Oliver Queen, a criminal profiler, is currently working on a special task force formed between SCPD and FBI to catch a man dubbed the Start City Slasher, who has murdered at least three young women in the past nine months. Agent Queen is not thrilled with the prospect of holding a former princess’ hand through her problem with a simple stalker while a serial killer is still at large. However, once meeting her, Oliver finds there is nothing easy or simple about Felicity Smoak as their worlds start to intertwine. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726573/chapters/41820368

Love and Little Cupcakes multi-chapter WIP by @christinabeggs - Felicity loved sweets so much that she paid no attention to her lovelife. Until Thea Queen came into her store wanting fabulous cupcakes for her sixteenth birthday. SO ADORABLE! http://archiveofourown.org/works/12400539/chapters/28216053

If I Tremble multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - A collection of prompts and ficlets, with all the smut! Olicity sexy times are the best times. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/35762643

| ONE | (Oliver the Footballer) multi-chapter WIP @someonesaidcake - Felicity Smoak had a plan; to save enough money to kick her monotonous job and start up the company of her dreams. She made good plans, solid plans, attainable plans. He was never part of her plan. His name was Oliver Queen, the reclusive Brazilian football star with a broken smile and a story to tell. He'd never planned on her either. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005402/chapters/34779542

Run to the Water multi-chapter Complete by @someonesaidcake - The year is 1912, Oliver was 9 and far too old to be babysitting that nonsensical girl Felicity whose parents owned the cattle ranch where his parents worked and lived, but she won him over with oat and raisin biscuits and soon became his little blonde sidekick...with a completely unrequited crush on him. Years later she returns from boarding school and more than bush fires ignite in the changing times.... https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455738/chapters/16942293

With the Speed of an Arrow multi-chapter WIP by @academyofshipping - Oliver Queen’s elite and silver-spoon life has taken some blows in the past few years, but he is still the carefree billionaire everyone knows of and loves. When his role in the family business is in jeopardy and he is introduced to a motley of new people, his status quo is threatened. With a changed perspective, Oliver realizes his feeling for his best friend and anchor-in-life, Felicity Smoak, may be more than just platonic. OR A modern adaption of Jane Austen’s Emma with a gender swap* and no island. *Knowing that gender is not binary https://archiveofourown.org/works/16559846/chapters/38799857

P.S. Hong Kong: Was it Real?!? multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue for Olicity trope-tastic award: Fake Marriage - This is off season 3 Flashbacks. When Tommy goes to Hong Kong he doesn’t go alone he takes his friend Felicity as the best information system being to help him locate Oliver Queen. Tommy may leave empty handed but Felicity gets to be a bride… https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025697/chapters/34832747

(Don't) Let Me Go multi-chapter WIP by @emmilynestill - Felicity told him to let her go, but even when Oliver tried, it didn’t seem to be something he was capable of. In the end, there would be nothing in the world Felicity was more grateful for. Weaving in and out of the final four episodes of Season 5 and beyond, follow Oliver and Felicity’s emotional journey back to one another, one step at a time. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11591223/chapters/26051715

There's a Hole in My Soul multi-chapter Complete by @felicityollies - Felicity Smoak is the daughter of a powerful and dangerous mob boss. Oliver Queen, who had been an associate until recently being promoted to bodyguard, was given the job of protecting Felicity. Neither of them are very happy about the arrangement. https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827837/chapters/13431532

The Emerald Umbrella multi-chapter WIP by @arrowgirl20 - All it took was a little rain and a emerald umbrella for Oliver and Felicity to take their relationship to the next level.http://archiveofourown.org/works/8752441/chapters/22096217

Overwatch multi-chapter WIP by @it-was-a-red-heeler - A burglary attempt convinces the Mayor of Starling City to hire Smoak Technologies to strengthen his security. But between the sassy AI watching him 24/7 and the personal trainer with his own reasons to kill him, Oliver may wish he’d stuck with his baseball bat for protection. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500640/chapters/41221793

Home To You multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Oliver Queen has never done what his family expected of him. He took a gap year after high school instead of going to college right away. He quit his fraternity sophomore year to join the student newspaper, switching his major from business to journalism. He became a photojournalist for a wire service instead of taking a place at Queen Consolidated. He went missing after six months instead of coming home for his sister’s twenty-first birthday. He survived five years of captivity in a war zone when everyone thought he was dead. He came home. But home didn’t have a place for him in it anymore. His parents were both dead, casualties of their own mistakes and a city they had turned against them. His sister was all grown up, the CEO of Queen Consolidated with a fiancé and a dog and a life of her own. Oliver didn’t belong in his old life, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He was a man without a home, without any way of finding one, until he stopped by the IT department of his sister’s company to get files off an old, battered memory card, and found a woman with curly blonde hair and bright, intelligent eyes chewing on a bright red pen and swearing at a computer screen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613188/chapters/28734552

Burning Souffles multi-chapter Complete by @allimariexf - Felicity really needs to have a talk with Oliver. Which they will really, definitely do just as soon as she stops being kidnapped. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827772/chapters/42064055

Re-Airrow 2x18 by @lostolicityscenes - A short and sweet end scene takes place after the events of the episode. Felicity seemed in a lot of distress in the episode, most of it nonverbal choices by Emily Bett Rickards; arms crossed defensively, hands crossed over her throat, or other body language cues. https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/183078203313/re-airrow-2x18

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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hope-for-olicity · 6 years ago

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - March 15th, 2019

Thursday multi-chapter Complete by @someonesaidcake - There is something about the girl next door that Oliver Queen is only now noticing... Felicity is moving to college just down the road from where Oliver is a senior. He suddenly becomes very protective of the girl next door. Thursday night dinners might not ever be the same again. This story gets better and better! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10688658/chapters/23670255

Queen of Thieves multi-chapter WIP by @spaztronautwriter - Freed from her past and now attending college in Boston, Felicity Smoak thinks she might finally have a chance at a normal life. That is, until Oliver Queen suddenly shows up with news about her father, international thief Noah Kuttler. With her past catching up to her, she'll not only have to face the sins of her father, but come to terms with the feelings she thought she'd put behind her for good. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033512/chapters/42612608

From Somewhere Within multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - Their connection has always felt natural to them, safe and secure. But others tend to fear what they don’t understand, and as far as their enemies are concerned, the world isn’t ready to accept two people who can know each other the way that Oliver and Felicity do. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009244/chapters/37356257

Do You Remember multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Eight years after Oliver and Felicity became teenage parents, they have everything they could have ever hoped for and more. They have a good life in a nice house. Their marriage is happy, and a second baby is on its way. The calm they have settled in is interrupted abruptly when a stalker starts terrorizing Felicity. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409059/chapters/40978307

Perfect (Season 7) by @dust2dust34 - Set in Season 7. Seven times Oliver and Felicity dance. (Based on "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714660/chapters/42663575

(Don't) Let Me Go multi-chapter Complete by @emmilynestill - Felicity told him to let her go, but even when Oliver tried, it didn’t seem to be something he was capable of. In the end, there would be nothing in the world Felicity was more grateful for. Weaving in and out of the final four episodes of Season 5 and beyond, follow Oliver and Felicity’s emotional journey back to one another, one step at a time. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11591223/chapters/26051715

Alone in the World multi-chapter WIP by @laxit21 - Oliver and Felicity are trapped in the bunker when Chase sets off an EMP. They emerge hours later to find that the world has changed drastically in those few hours they were trapped.Ohttps://archiveofourown.org/works/17991881/chapters/42501815

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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