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ma1dita · 1 year ago

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buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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greer2301 · 3 months ago

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Momma’s Boy

Chris Sturniolo X Fem!Reader

•Mommy kink• •NSFW• •SMUTT•

“Fu- Mommy, fe-feels so good” Chris moans, my hips coming down on him harder. The headboard smacking on the wall, his moans and whimpers echoing in the room over the tv noise. “Mmm, doin so good babyboy, so fucking good f’mommy” I praise him, holding his wrists above his head, my walls clinging to him tighter as he moans loudly for me.

His cheeks are flushed, his forehead coated in a lair of sweat clinging to his hair as he moans bellow me, his pretty lips parted as he pants. His muscles flexing and releasing as he fights his orgasm, my healed new titty piercings bouncing in his face as he watches them. Leaning in he takes one in his mouth as I speed up, moaning loudly he bucks his hips fucking up into me like the good boy he is. “Mmm want to fuck mommy baby?” I ask him with a moan, slowing down as he nods.

Chris turns me over and pulls my hips up as he gets into position behind me, one of his hands reaching forward to play with my piercings. “S’fuckin pretty mommy” Chris says, sliding his length through my pretty pink lips as he moans, I gasp as I feel him thrust into me bottoming out. I match his pace, fucking back into him as he wrecks me, my pussy drooling for him, leaking onto the bed beneath us as he ruthlessly fucks my pussy like a man starved.

“Fuck ma, takin me so good” Chris moans as he watches his length disappear into my pretty pink hole. Moaning I arch more for him, reaching down to play with my clit, his hand not on my piercing comes down hard on my asscheek. A gasp leaving my mouth as tears start leaving my eyes. “Fuck ma, so fucking close. Good fucking whore f’me” Chris moans, spanking my ass harder as he speeds up his release so close.

“Fuckk, fill mommy baby. Watch it drip” I moan, his hips stuttering as he gets closer. “Cummin for you mommy, gon’ fill mommy’s pretty pussy” Chris whimpers, his hips stilling before thrusting hard a couple times as he moans loudly and spills in me, coating my pink walls white. “S’good boy” I moan, my cream mixing with his seed. “Nice fucking piercings mommy” Chris pants, pulling out and moaning as his seed drips from me.

#fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #mathew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut

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fafnir19 · 9 months ago

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Clothes make the man

Felix was typing furiously at his desk in the bustling newsroom, his eyes fixed on the screen and fingers dancing over the keyboard. As a volunteer at a major newspaper, he harbored ambitions of becoming a journalist in the economics department. Despite his intense dedication, securing a position there seemed increasingly unlikely.

The secretaries were unkind, refusing to provide any help as he tackled the workload alone. "Hey, Felix, can I have a word with you?" a voice called out from behind him. It was Lucy, the editor of the fashion department. "Sure, Lucy. What's up?" Felix turned around in his swivel chair to face her. "Our journalist for the fashion beat is sick today, and we need someone to cover an interview with Victor Vlein, the famous fashion designer. Can you do it?" Lucy asked, sounding hopeful.

Felix sighed, feeling utterly disinterested in the fashion world. "I've never covered fashion before, but I'll give it a shot." "Great! The interview is in an hour at Vlein's studio. Good luck!" Lucy flashed him a smile before hurrying off to attend to other business. Arriving at Vlein's studio, Felix composed himself and prepared for the interview.

As he entered, he was greeted by Victor Vlein, a tall, imposing figure with a stern expression. "Mr. Vlein, I'm Felix from the newspaper," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "Ah, the replacement journalist. Let's get this over with," Vlein replied curtly. Felix wasted no time and dove straight into the interview. "Mr. Vlein, your fashion seems to perpetuate outdated male stereotypes. What do you have to say about that?" Victor Vlein raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Felix's directness.

"Appearance and reality often merge, young man. Maybe you should try on my designs to understand." Reluctantly, Felix agreed to try on Vlein's attire despite finding it utterly ridiculous.

Felix stood in Vlein's studio, trying on one of the designer's bold ensembles. As he struggled to pull the leather jacket over his shoulders, Vlein stepped forward, his dark eyes keenly assessing Felix's frame. "It's not working for me, Mr. Vlein. I don't see how this can change my perception," Felix remarked, frowning as he looked at himself in the mirror. With precise movements, Vlein deftly adjusted the jacket's collar, smoothing down the fabric over Felix's chest before moving to the trousers. His long fingers meticulously tucked and rearranged the pants, emphasizing the need for a wider stance, while his intense gaze seemed to be sizing up Felix's every reaction. "Please, Mr. Vlein, I don't think this is necessary," Felix protested weakly. Ignoring Felix, Vlein spread Felix’s legs, insisting that men should stand with a wide stance. "You see, the key to commanding respect is in how you carry yourself," Vlein explained, his deep voice echoing in the studio. "Stand with pride and confidence, as if you own the room." Continuing his transformative touch, Vlein lifted Felix's chin with a firm yet gentle grip, directing his gaze towards the mirror. "Hold your head high. Look at yourself as if you are the embodiment of power and authority," Vlein instructed. Then, with a surprising amount of intimacy, Vlein reached out to adjust Felix's hair, running his fingers through the strands and rearranging them with a sense of purpose. Suddenly Vlein grabbed his crotch and a visible bulge appeared in Felix's pants. Vlein remarked with a grin, “And always wear tight-fitting pants to show everyone that you’re the stud!”

The designer's touch was both unsettling and oddly soothing as he fashioned Felix's appearance to match his vision. Felix felt an undeniable discomfort as Vlein's hands roamed freely, but the sense of compulsion held him back from protesting. Throughout the entire adjustment, Felix remained speechless, his heart racing with a mixture of astonishment and unease. Finally, Vlein took a step back, his intense scrutiny softened by a look of satisfaction. "There you go, Felix. You look the part now. Embrace your masculinity. Own it," Vlein declared, taking a moment to appreciate the transformation reflected in the mirror.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Felix could hardly believe his eyes. He now resembled one of Vlein's runway models, his physique chiseled and free of any excess fat. Felix struggled to reconcile the image before him with his own sense of self. The chiseled features and powerful demeanor felt like an unfamiliar facade, imposed upon him by Vlein's deliberate manipulations.

Confused and shocked, Felix was informed by Vlein that he would remain like this for three weeks before returning to revert to his former self. "I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Vlein," Felix said, fighting to maintain composure.

In the following days, Felix noticed a stark change in how people treated him. They acknowledged his authority, eagerly listening to him. Women in the office looked at him with desire, their eyes lingering on his transformed physique, willingly obeying his commands.

Colleagues hesitated to disobey him, instinctively acknowledging his newfound confidence. "Hey, Jeff, can you take care of these reports for me?" as Felix asked a colleague, handing over a stack of papers without hesitation. Delegating tasks became easier for Felix, and he began to adopt an air of arrogance in his interactions. He never hesitated to spread his legs wide and hold his head high, as Vlein had emphasized. People noticed the change in his demeanor, though few dared to question it. He effortlessly gained entry into the economics department, despite exerting much less effort than other applicants.

At the end of the three weeks, Felix hesitated to return to his former self. "What if I could stay like this for a bit longer?" he wondered.

Felix returned to Victor Vlein as agreed and stood in his studio, feeling a curious mix of discomfort and bewilderment. Victor Vlein, with a wry smile, fixed his gaze on Felix. "Tell me, Mr. Felix, how does it feel to be seen as an object of desire?" Vlein's voice had a subtle edge, as if he knew something Felix didn't. Felix felt a chill run down his spine as Vlein's question lingered in the air. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Vlein," Felix replied, his tone guarded. Vlein's smile widened, and he took a step closer to Felix. "You're a journalist, aren't you? You must know the power of perception. Your appearance now commands attention, desire even. How does that make you feel?" "It's … unbelievable, to say the least," Felix confessed, averting his eyes from Vlein's piercing gaze. "I never sought such attention or... objectification." "But it's a reality in the world of fashion and influence, Mr. Felix. Appearance shapes perception, and perception shapes power," Vlein stated matter-of-factly. It was as if Vlein held the key to a truth that Felix wasn't ready to confront.

Vlein suggested reversing Felix's appearance as previously agreed, but Felix hesitated. He wanted to explore the power of appearance a little longer. "But Mr. Vlein, I feel different, confident, like I've never felt before," Felix pleaded, trying to convey his inner turmoil. "This change has brought about a newfound charisma and respect. I don't want to revert to my former self yet. Please, let me remain as I am now." Victor Vlein regarded Felix with a discerning look, contemplating his request. "You do have potential, Felix. I can see it," Vlein mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'll agree under one condition: you work as a model for some of my fashion shows. You'll be the perfect ambassador for my brand." Eagerly agreeing, Felix imagined nothing better than representing Vlein's cool fashion and showcasing his newfound confidence to the world.

Felix's heart hammered in his chest as he stepped onto the runway for the first time, his steps hesitant and uncertain. The bright lights blazed down on him, casting his shadow long behind him as he moved forward, each echoing footstep a testament to his trepidation. It felt like the weight of a thousand eyes bore down on him, scrutinizing his every move. His breaths came quick and shallow, his palms clammy as he fought to still the quiver in his hands. As he reached the center of the runway, the crowd's hushed whispers seemed to echo like distant waves crashing upon the shore, adding to the mounting pressure. But then something shifted within him. As he stood beneath the spotlight, the gazes of the audience melted into a symphony of admiration, their applause an electrifying crescendo that ushered in a wave of newfound confidence.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the uncertainty vanishing like mist before the sun. With each step, his posture straightened, exuding an aura of self-assuredness that captivated the audience. The once nervous Felix had transformed into the epitome of a charismatic bad boy, commanding attention with every stride. Victor Vlein, observing from the sidelines, leaned over to his assistant. "Watch him closely," Vlein whispered, "he's fully succumbed to his new persona, embracing it with such ease. He's become the perfect embodiment of my brand, effortlessly captivating the audience as a sweet bad boy."

Meanwhile, at the newspaper, Felix's enigmatic transformation had not gone unnoticed. His magnetism drew attention, and his charm and newfound sense of self-assuredness propelled him to the top of his career in the economic department, despite having to exert much less effort than other applicants. Felix had indeed left behind the echoes of uncertainty and emerged as a shining star, basking in the dual realms of the fashion world and the prestigious economic landscape, successfully embodying both identities.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #male model tf #male model

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cierraonline · 7 months ago

Text

More Than Ready

chapter one: more than ready

warning: none

masterlist | next chapter

XXX

A father holds his daughter's hand for a short while, but he holds her heart forever.

What does that mean?

I’m about to beat this old man in a game of basketball - Sasha James

“You’re not getting close to that hoop,” LeBron James huffs as he tries to block his daughter's clear path by staying low and close to her.

“Good thing I don’t need to be near the hoop to make the shot,” Sasha smirks, dribbling the ball between her legs. She pulls back and aims for a long-range shot... which goes in. “And the crowd goes wild for The Assassin!” The brown-skinned girl runs around the court, making loud cheering noises. “Thank you, thank you…” She stops mid-run, pretending to give a heartfelt speech. “As the number one draft pick, I would like to thank me, myself, and I. Because I couldn’t have done it without me, myself, and I.”

“Is that really going to be your acceptance speech next year?” her father laughs, still trying to catch his breath.

“Next year?” She furrows her eyebrows, her pearly whites still visible, but her overall expression shows confusion. “It’s my junior year, remember?” Sasha turns to her father. How could he make a mistake that meant the world to her? “You remember... the plan? I can enter the draft my junior year, be the number one pick, and get sent to play for the Sparks.”

“I know that’s what we agreed on, it’s just... maybe it’s too early.”

“What do you mean, ‘maybe it’s too early?’” She laughs, shaking her head, retrieving the ball from the bushes where it had rolled after swishing through the net. “If anything, it’s the perfect time to enter the draft. I’m projected to be the number one pick, and the Sparks get the first pick.”

“I know, but... you’re not ready,” he says, trying to come up with an answer.

“Not ready?” Sasha scoffs, offended. “My stats are higher than yours when you were with the Cavaliers, and your fans considered that your prime.”

“You haven’t even finished college.”

“I have two bachelor’s degrees, one in sports management and another in racial and gender equality. 4.5 GPAs, always on the Presidential List. I’ve interned at the WNBA, did a semester abroad as head coach for the Youth Olympic Games, and we took home the gold.” The list of accomplishments echoed through the hot California air.

“What about your master’s programs?”

“I can always finish them online, Daddy,” Sasha shook her head, not believing the excuses coming from her father. “Since when were you against the plan?”

“I’m not against the plan, baby girl.” LeBron approached his daughter, trying to offer a comforting touch. He noticed she was starting to work herself up, as she usually did when her mind entered defense mode.

“Well, you sure don’t seem for the plan,” she said, taking a step back, not wanting her father’s touch as if he were about to deliver bad news.

“You guys ready to head to the airport?” Savannah James, wife and mother of the father-daughter duo, stepped out onto the patio in a mocha brown suede tracksuit, paired with a clean pair of white Nike Air Forces.

“Baby, I called the airline and made sure they have cans of ginger ale so you don’t get sick during the flight,” said Paige Bueckers, the 6-foot tall UCONN guard from Hopkins, Minnesota, and Sasha James' wife of two years, as she entered the area with a bubbly smile.

The two women on the porch noticed the tense energy between father and daughter and decided to take the risk of finding out what was going on.

“What’s happening?” Savannah asked, her gaze shifting intensely between her daughter and husband.

“Daddy doesn’t want me to enter the draft this year!” Sasha blurted out, turning to her mother for support.

“Bron?” Savannah’s expression filled with confusion as she turned toward her husband. “The plan?”

“It’s just... she’s not ready!” LeBron defended himself, raising his voice as he often did when confronted by the women of the house. “She’s not ready to be drafted!”

Silence fell over the patio. No one knew what to say, stunned to hear such words from LeBron James himself. This was the father who always told people his kids would be drafted and playing in the big leagues. The father who said his children could achieve anything if they worked hard. The father who had seen how basketball had lit up his daughter’s eyes from the moment she first touched a ball. And now, that same LeBron James was declaring in their household that his daughter, Sasha James, wasn’t ready to be drafted into the WNBA.

“LeBron!” Savannah sharply scolded him, her tone resembling that of a mother catching her child with something they weren’t supposed to have after being told multiple times to put it down.

“What happened to my dad who used to rave to his teammates that I’d be the face of the WNBA when my time came? The dad who swore his son and daughter would play in the same city under the same family name? The dad who said, ‘Don’t get filled with rage and attack on the court, just wipe the hate away, because one day you’re going to be the number one draft pick, and they’re going to be sitting behind you wondering if their name is even going to be called’? Where’s the dad who jumped up in excitement when Bronny suddenly said he was going to enter the draft his sophomore year at USC, even though we both know he doesn’t have the stats and the recruiters aren’t confident in him yet?” Sasha looked at her father, her eyes filled with hurt. “I’ve been planning this moment since I was four. I sat on countless benches, forced to watch, study, and practice because no one wanted to play against a girl for years. You can’t say I’m not ready when my stats match yours at your prime. You can’t say I’m not hungry for it because I’ve always put in the work, on and off the court. What happened to my dad who was all for the plan and ready to make revisions when things got tough and we thought there was no coming back?” Without another look, Sasha shook her head and pulled away from the tense bubble between her and her father, heading back inside the house.

“I-I should probably go check on her,” Paige awkwardly pointed in the direction her wife went, not wanting to stay in the tense, somber atmosphere.

“The plan was for Sasha to enter the draft her junior year if she was ready,” Savannah spoke up as she watched her husband stare at the spot where their daughter had stood. “She’s been ready to enter the WNBA since her freshman year, but she compromised because we wanted her to have that college experience we never got. She’s done that and more, LeBron.” She made her way down the porch and over to her husband. “Now, if you can give me a good reason why Sasha shouldn’t enter, I’ll support your decision—no further questions asked. But you can’t say she’s not ready when we both know she’s more than ready.” She gently placed her palms on his chest, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I see and read about these powerhouse women basketball players having to march up to the league commissioner’s office, asking for what they deserve. The benefits, the salary, the promotion... And you know what those corporate people tell them, Savannah?” LeBron finally lifted his head to make eye contact. “They tell them no. They tell them their seats aren’t filling up like the men’s league, that the quality of the game isn’t marketable, that they don’t deserve equal pay to the NBA rookies because no one is watching. I don’t want to go to practice one day and see Sasha marching to the commissioner’s office, begging for what she’s worth, only to be shut down. I can’t handle, as a father, watching my daughter be told she’s not worthy when she puts in the most work. I won’t do it, Savannah. Not again.” He shook his head, lowering it again.

“And as a father, you’re forgetting who your daughter is.” Savannah lifted his head again. “Your daughter is Sasha Bianca James, ‘The Assassin,’ and she’s number one. Everyone’s been watching her since we took her to her first basketball game. And as for the issues within the league... Sasha knows about them, and she’s been fighting to change the mindset. She’s not just a player, LeBron; she’s an advocate. She’s our daughter, and we raised her to stand up for change. Her goal isn’t what yours was when you were first drafted—chasing a fast life of basketball, money, and escaping struggle. She doesn’t have the struggles we had, so that’s not her goal. Her goal is to change how the world views women in sports. She doesn’t care about the money or the fame. She cares about her love for the game, as a young woman. As a player who believed she was never going to play once upon a time.” Savannah straightened her posture, her gaze firm. “So either get with the plan or be left behind, because my baby is entering the draft. She will be the number one pick and she will play for the Sparks.” Savannah’s determined tone, filled with motherly authority, aimed to lighten the darkened mood. “Now come on, we’ve got to drop the girls back off at college in Connecticut.”

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helios-writings · 2 years ago

Text

I Wanna be Yours

Vash x gn! Reader

WC: 1k

NSFW! 18+ only. Minors dni.

Warnings: Porn w/o plot, handjobs, crying during sex. Established relationship.

You and Vash rarely get moments alone, but when you do, you take advantage of it.

Your hands were tangled in Vash’s hair as he pressed little kisses down your neck, causing you to gasp. The two of you never really had time alone, so when you did, you wanted to make the most of it. Even if that meant the world’s most desperate makeout session. He sat on the bed of the shitty hotel you were staying at, your legs planted on either side of him, core planted directly above his hardening cock.

“You’re gorgeous.” Vash muttered, nipping at your collarbone.

You laughed a little, grinding down, causing the man to stifle his groan in your shoulder. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You loved making out with Vash, he was so reactive that it drove you insane. You couldn’t resist teasing him. You raised his head from your shoulder and brought him into a bruising kiss, grinding down on him again. He whined into the kiss, making you grin.

“Unfair. Don’t you know I’m a dangerous criminal?” He asked as you nipped down his neck.

“Maybe my plan all along was to seduce you and then take you to the police, claiming the bounty for myself.”

It wasn’t true of course, and Vash knew that, if his snort of amusement was anything to go by, even as he was putting a hand under your thin nightshirt.

“You’re not scared of the Humanoid Typhoon?” The grin on his face was cocky.

You leaned forward, nipping his ear and he keened, bucking his hip upwards, causing you to grind down. The hand that had slipped under your nightshirt was kneading one of your breasts, sending the tiniest sparks of pleasure through you.

“Not when I know what he sounds like in bed.” You told him, hands in his hair again.

Vash pulled the shirt off of you and tossed it somewhere in the room, wrapping his mouth around the neglected nipple. You’d never known another man to love your tits the way he did, he loved playing with them at any chance he could, pouting when he didn’t have enough time. He was the same way with making you feel good, wanting to spend hours between your legs before he even thought about getting off.

You ground against him again, harder this time, letting out a low moan. The desperation was getting to you; the pent up frustration from constant camping and never having a moment alone. Vash seemed to be feeling the same way, if his frantic bucking into you was anything to go by. His green eyes were glazed over with pleasure.

You pushed his head away from your chest, pulling him in for a kiss instead.

“Wish we had more time to ourselves,” he babbled, “I want to make you feel good, baby, I want to spend a whole day in bed with you, whatever way you want me.”

“I want you just like this.” You told him, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out.

The blonde moaned in relief at the cold air. “Feels so good, baby.”

“You’re about to feel even better.” You teased, wrapping a hand around his cock.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Vash moaned so loudly, it seemed to echo off the walls and you slapped a hand over his mouth, waiting to see if someone was going to pound on the door to complain about the noise. When no one did, you removed your hand, sighing in relief. “You need to be quiet, if we get caught in the act, I’ll never forgive you.”

He kissed apologetically up your chest, frowning up at you with his green eyes wide. “Aww, I’ll be good, baby, I promise.

You rolled your eyes, but started moving your hand up and down his length while he stifled his moans into your mouth. He was hot in your hand, and the sight of his cock did nothing to quench the heat you felt low in your stomach, but you rarely got to take the 60 billion double dollar man apart like this, and you wanted to cherish the moment.

Vash pulled away from the kiss and laid his head on your shoulder, whimpering as he bucked up into your hand. “Feels good, baby, don’t stop. Please.”

You kissed the side of his head. “I love you, Vash, I’ve got you.”

He shuddered as he came, his loud moan muffled by his face being buried in your neck. Spurts of cum covered your hand and you made a face at how it felt.

You tried getting up, but Vash clung to you. “Don’t leave.”

“I just need to clean up, I’ll be right back.”

He shook his head, but eventually let you go and you came back from the bathroom with a clean hand, and a warm rag so you could wipe the dried tears from his face.

“I want to make you feel good.” He mumbled, eyes red.

You glanced at a nearby clock and shook your head. “Maybe next time, hotshot. It’s late. We need to get some sleep.”

Groaning, he shucked off his pants and jacket, but waited for you to be undressed to climb under the covers. He was little spoon.

Kissing him softly, you wished him good night.

***

The next day, Wolfwood greeted the two of you at the front desk. “Apparently someone filed a noise complaint last night.”

You turned away from the man, but Vash was beet red, giving you away.

He sighed. “They didn’t fine us. This time, but next time, learn to be quieter.”

Vash leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Can they fine you for a noise complaint?”

“I think he’s fucking with us. We weren’t that loud.”

He beamed. “Told ya I’d be good.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that, What would people say if they knew the most wanted man in the world was such a good guy.”

Vash pulled you into a kiss. “I don’t care what the world thinks; just you.”

“The two of you are sickening.” Meryl teased as she walked past.

“And you’re a mood killer.” You shot back.

“Just one of my many charms.”

You turned back to your boyfriend and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “We should get a move on. I love you.

He pulled you into another kiss. “I love you too.”

#Sunburst #character☀️: vash the stampede #fandom☀️: trigun #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede x you #trigun x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash x you #reader insert #vash the stampede x you #sunbathing with: vash #daylightarchive

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lynn-tged-posting · 4 months ago

Text

tged webtoon ep 159 spoilers and thoughts below the cut yep just the usual

JAVIERS FACE LMFAO "wow. these people are so weird. thank god im the only normal person here" jesus christ this entire estate is insane /aff

also i think im required to inform that i sent this panel to some of my irls because they're also civil engineers, and i asked if they recognized any of this and they said "oh god yeah"

so we can pleasantly confirm that the adaptor/artist are still referencing real civil engineering stuff!

while we're still here at the start of the ep/my thoughts i do wanna say, the whole "ugly" gag is getting. a little too well worn

it is really well drawn! the artist is very skilled at drawing exaggerated expressions and its always fun to see, but i think this is like the third or fourth time now that this has been used, and i think my brain is just tired of the repeated schtick. i dont hate it, but the funny has moved on for me

i really hope that in this next arc we see a return of a devilish or conniving lloyd, rather than silly "ugly" expressions; its funny when he looks stupid but id like a better balance, which means i want more instances of him looking cool and smart as hell!!!

of course these words will. probably fall on deaf ears its not like i can message the artist/adaptor directly lmfao but yknow its the thought that counts i guess. actually i might be using that phrase wrong not sure

ANYWAY ANYWAY verkis looks so pretty here,, i like that he confirmed lloyds intentions w the jewel of truth . truly a man who wants to do Nothing thats so real of him me too bud

AND THENNN my personal favorite peak of the episode THE SWORDMASTER SYNDROME KICKING IN AAAAAHHH AAAAHHHH

IT MAKES SENSE THAT LLOYD PUSHING HIS MANACIRCLES TO THE LIMIT WOULD BE THE LAST PUSH HE NEEDS TO BECOME A HIGH LEVEL SWORD EXPERT and now hes suffering the consequence of not dealing with this earlier </3 get overstim'd idiot shouldve taken a break before this happened bozo!!! /j

i really really REALLY love how the text and the effects were drawn in these panels and the following ones (thats three reallys!!!)!! the visual echo and then the sudden sharp jaggedness, it really shows how much OUCH and impact it has and i really really love it YEAHHHH PUT LLOYD THROUGH THE WRINGER YEAHHH YEAHHH

AND THEN JAVIER KEEPS LOOKING SO FUCKING HAPPY THROUGHOUT THIS EPISODE PLEASSEEJ LKAJDFLKSJDFLKJSDFLK JHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH he's having a grand ol time lmfao now his noble can experience what he had to go through!!!

ALSO ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THE VERY FIRST THING THAT LLOYD LOOKS AT WITH HIS NEW HEIGHTENED VISION IS JAVIERS FACE AND HOW PERFECT IT IS HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO you could have looked at anything else and yet the first thing you narrow in on is javiers face IM SHAKING YOU LLOYD

no seriously wow he's so pretty ALSO THE FUCKING. HAND POSE IM CRYING

also its really really fluffy nice that javier helped lloyd with getting used to his senses! though they couldnt really do anything abt his insomnia

i had heard that some really cute moments got cut from the novel in this little timeskip here which is like awww i wish we got to see it like, that short bit with the "ugly" gag could have been replaced with the moments from the novel and itd still fit the episode length! at least i think

(like i was told that lloyd gets called "good boy" by javier. like. WHAT. WHAT. GOOD BOY??? GOOD BOY??? AND THAT GOT CUT?????? GOOD BOY!?!?!?!? i told my irls abt this and we collectively had a stroke i wish it made it in bc javiers face when saying that and lloyds reaction wouldve been PRICELESSSS)

oh but also back to talking about javier helping lloyd out, i think its really really cute,,, i know its not explicitly said or shown but i want to think that javier is able to repay the lullaby in a sense by doing this. i really like that javier not only depends on lloyd, but lloyd depends on javier too, and they can rely on each other. thinking about that makes my heart warm and my feet kick and then i start giggling like a maniac

anyway few month timeskip and lloyd u look tired as hell im so sorry buddy

though honestly i really like how he looks in this panel for some reason HAHAHAHA idk him just looking grumpy and tired is fun bc u dont really see it that often u usually see him being silly or evil more so this is a nice panel to have heehee

disgruntled tired sleep deprived engineer now aint that the realest STEM experience ever,,, shaking ur hand lloyd i get u i understand

AND THEN THE END OF THE EP HI RAPHAEL the angel arc!! i guess!! idk the names of these arcs

i wonder how he'll try to enforce this,,, and i wonder how lloyd will get out of it,,, like did tkobai ever go over the angels and what they do? does lloyd know about them?

i did see pics of what he looks like from the novel and we were SO robbed of very pretty long wavy hair, it seems the artist just chopped it all off,,, uueueueueuee

i posted abt this on twitter already but my singular cope is that we actually just havent seen the rest of his hair and its just in a ponytail and its like really really thin and we'll see the rest of his hair soon trust <- copium pumping

and a bonus little illustration, happy chuseok!!!

thats all from me!!!!!!! IM REALLY EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THIS ANGEL ARC GOES and whether or not lupellan and wrot,,,, whatever his name was are going to interfere also,,, triple clash!!! also if he'll ever overcome his insomnia,,,

see yall next week :3

#tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #tged spoilers #javier asrahan #raphael #lynn misc #fun little bonus yap in the tags #after reading this i actually caved and read the corresponding novel chapters ahead of where im actually at in the novel #i got curious okay!!!! i was wondering what exactly it was i missed #and dont worry i didnt spoil myself. i think #the good boy line. wow. that sent me into hysterics #also the moment where javier tries to read the lullaby to lloyd and falls asleep himself that was so silly PLEASE WAHH #i do wish both the novel and the manhwa spent a little more time on how insomnia/sleep deprivation affects lloyd #javier is used to it with swordmaster syndrome #lloyd is used to it WITHOUT swordmaster syndrome #so i think itd be interesting to explore how that affects his physical/mental #ok now im done

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ulircursed · 5 months ago

Text

TOA Aniversary Munday

From Neffi!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: eri

Pronouns: she/her

Birthday (no year): 9/30

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Taiwan! GMT+8, currently 12 hours ahead of TOAST. Good news: the apocalypse hasn't hit the future yet!

How long is your roleplay experience? Probably around 10+ years at this point, unless running around as Pokemon on the playground counts, in which case more like 20 years ahaha

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? I'm reasonably certain Fire Emblem was my first foray into tumblr RP, and Emmeryn was my first muse! There was a little indie community that I joined back then, though I haven't kept in contact with them

How were you introduced to TOA? I don't really remember, but all I know is that I lurked around the masterlist around the time of L&K but didn't pluck up the courage to join until nearly a year later when I saw there was a Reyson (shoutout to birdie!)

Do you have any pets? Nope! Moved around too much as a kid and current living situation doesn't support having one. Closest I got was sharing an apartment with my roommate's floofy cat for two years in college; his name's Chester and he was super adorable. I'd like to have a dog someday though!

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) WINTERRRR I am a human furnace and summer is suffering. Every spring I start counting down the days to the next winter ahaha

What is your IRL occupation? I work at the counseling department in a junior college!

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Learning languages, singing, obscure fun facts and watching Youtube video essays

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Used to be a big Pokemon person but I stopped playing the mainline games by Gen VII (not for lack of interest! RL circumstances changed around that time and I just never got back into the habit of buying those games); nowadays I play a few mobile games daily but that's about it

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Water; too many, but if I had to name just one I will probably say Rufflet

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! The first fun fact is that the moment I get asked questions like this I immediately go Brain Empty and this is why I rarely fill out toa monthly feedback forms dakfjslfj uhhhh my favorite color is blue! I joined an archery club in grad school (two years ago) to understand what shooting a bow feels like. I love swimming but haven't been to a pool for maybe like 9 years now. I really like going to zoos.

How did you get into Fire Emblem? My older brother introduced my younger brother and me to Japanese FE4 when we were kids, when we knew absolutely no Japanese and just messed around the first map and never beat it. I properly started playing when I was in high school, with FE7 being the first game I beat! I normally count my official FE gaming journey as starting with 7 in high school :'D

What Fire Emblem games have you played? All the mainline ones except 1-3 and Echoes (I'm...... working on it)

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: FE7; FE3H

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! You can't do this to me man. UHHH ok Lucius is my very most favorite FE character. Andrei needs to be here. I lump the Heron sibs as one unit for questions like this. Tibarn. Sylvain. There are probably a dozen more but

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! HONESTLY Andrei thanks to the Oosawa manga. His arc changed my brain chemistry permanently

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 I don't think I've really crushed on fictional characters before ahaha

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: Chrom I think; uhhhh Lon'qu or Cherche?? - Fates: Silas I think???; I'm currently partway through a Birthright playthrough and I seem geared to S support with Jakob so him - Three Houses: Dimitri; started my first and only Myleth run a few months back and I'll probably go with Miss Thea :flushed: - Engage: None; man I don't know

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Bishop

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I think I could be a War Cleric wielding a giant hammer. If you don't go to bed on time I will forcibly join your army and make you

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Blue Lions I guess!

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Axe boon, Reason bane, Riding budding talent

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? Brodia

How do you pronounce TOA? TOE-uh

Current TOA muses: Just me and my bow man for the moment

Past TOA muses? Leanne, Lucius, Altena, Nino

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Leanne was my first! Honestly she always lives in a cozy little corner of my head, so she can be back at any moment if RL permits

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? Nice Girls (gender neutral) who have no quarrel with 99% of the world. As you may be able to see, Andrei does not fit this mold.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Flirts. They're so much fun to read but I don't think I could flirt my way out of a paper bag irl so I would never know what to write

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I honestly love fluffy cozy fun friendshippy situations!!! Again, Andrei is not conducive to this. I mean I do also like painful scenes but--

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? that Yngvi AU where Brigid never disappeared because things will still go to shit but the circumstances would be so different. Honestly Brigid doesn't even need to explicitly be there for this to work so if any Gen I Jugdrals ever want to do this then I grip you

Favorite TOA-related memories? So many, but the West Faerghus Croc lives rent free in my brain forever.

Present or past tense? I started off with past tense, but now default to present. When the stars align and I notice my partner using past tense, sometimes I will also switch, but not always.

Normal size text, small text, no preference? Small text, though I am happy to switch for my partner's preference if needed!

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 Waves goodbye to my faceless Glenn delusions honestly thank u new anniversary ruling for saving me from those eternal brainworms

#➵ a quiverful of arrows (ooc)#happy anniversaryyyyyy toa

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mysteriouslikeness · 1 year ago

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I don’t know how to format on tumblr but uh-

Hi I’m dumping my Drabble from Elesa fall au

For some context of This AU:

Ingo fell to Hisui , has been gon a good two years. Then elesa fell when it was trying to get Emmet, leading Emmet down a rabbit hole to try and find them both knowing now what actually happened to his brother (he assumes after Elesa got taken that way) Elesa has memories, ends up in Diamond clan. Meets Ingo by chance and he can’t remember her but thinks she’s his lover (this is Elesa x Ingo and he never actually confessed before he fell) they both rekindle that love and try and find a way back to Emmet. Unfortunately they had a little too much rekindling and now have a baby on the way so all attempts to figure out how to go back stopped (especially after Ingo got desperate and hurt himself in his desperation).

This Drabble is from my OCs perspective. Feivel is who nursed Ingo back to health and was his friend through thick and thin. He was the only one told they they are from the future. He is Calabas apprentice of sorts but mostly travels to keep supplies flowing into Pearl clan.

>>>>>>>>>>>The Unseen Stars<<<<<<<<<<

It was raining in the Feildlands, the sky was covered in a soft blanket of grey. It was a light shower but it had gone on for several hours. There was plenty of mud on his boots as the ground beneath him tried to suction him there, damp with mud from a constant traveled path. The warm air despite the rain spelled for storms, the quiet rumble of a distant anger echoed across the land, faded to a soft hush by the time it reached Jubilife village. Feivel had made it to the village safe and sound, he’d gotten rather wet, the moisture was starting to soak in deeper to the under layers of his Pearl clan attire.

The River that flowed through the village was rising and active as he passed the bridge to the houses. In years past he would find his way to the other side, welcomed by uncaring eyes or not at all. He stopped at the door and paused to pet the wet fur of his companion. “Go find someplace dry.” He whispered to the Wyrdeer. The beast let out soft huffs as her dark eyes gazed at him before turning to leave, she was a welcome help in guarding the town, the little walls that had a roof made for perfect cover for a storm. The moisture mostly slid off her fur anyways, so Feivel wasn’t too concerned about her out in the rain.

With his final goodbyes he slid open the door to the house. It was quiet, he’d missed dinner it would seem. Time was hard to tell when there was no sun or stars for guidance. The only indication of time he has was the dying embers of the hearth in the dim room. He sighed softly as he slid the door closed behind him. He took his shoes off and set his things down, dusting off some rain that was still on his garbs to let it drip away in the area before the house began.

After a moment he stepped up into the house, the soft sound of socks on wood and creaking floorboards filled the air accompanied by the pitter patter of rain on the roof. He walked past the kitchen into the bedroom, tired silver eyes met his. Ingo was holding tightly to Elesa, who was fast asleep in his arms, woken by the sound of Feivel entering. He’d become much lighter of a sleeper recently with Elesa expecting their child at any time. There was a pause of quiet acknowledgment before Ingo closed his eyes again and nuzzled his face back into Elesa’s hair. Now that Ingo knew he’d arrived he went from their room to go start the fire back up, gently giving it a log to last a short time before he too fell asleep. As quietly as he could he got the wood burning, striping off his outer layers and setting them out to dry. He sniffled softly as he sat down cross legged and watched the small flame dance, the distant thunder creeping closer.

In the morning he’d make them breakfast, check on Fujie, and buy them some more firewood… after that just process the herbs he’d gathered on the way. A simple day for a simple man. Feivel smiled a bit, he’d walked into a dark house many times before, built fires and cooked food for an uncaring man who supposedly was his father…. It had felt empty. It was nights where the darkness would consume him regardless of how bright he made the hearths fire. The brightness was never the light he needed, but a rage that burned and lashed out trying to consume, just as the darkness was. The room in his fathers house was the predator and he was the poor prey caught in the jaws of mediocrity. Lifeless. A home with no soul and only judgements. He can hear his father say in the back of his mind not to get the floor wet. The task of course was impossible, little drops had followed him through the house…. Not a peep from Ingo. He’d not said a word but with the look in his eye, the bother to check, he knew if something was wrong Ingo would have gotten up. He was acknowledged. No words needed to be spoken between the two men after all. They had held each others lives in their hands. On the mountain in the Icelands so many years ago, in youths haze of memories, he knew his father didn’t run to look for him in the snows that fell in the avalanche. He wondered if that was the weight he felt in the air when he’d gone to stay at his fathers house, the weight of the snow.

A dash of light caught Feivels attention looking at the door, a rumble soon followed. The house he was in now carried no weight. There was no darkness, angry fires or invisible snow. Just the soft bubble of anticipation. The room wasn’t dark, and the fires were gentle, Soon there would be a new life and a cry filling the air of the house. A family would say it’s first hellos to a baby. Ingo and Elesa had come a long way, and as a healer he wanted to be there for them. He shifted to lay down on the floor next to the hearth watching the fire dance and eat the log for nourishment. Waving little hellos and getting excited to find more parts to cling onto.

This house, was undeniably, a home. Full of life. Full of love. As he closed his eyes he could see Elesas smile and ingos bright eyes as he greeted them in the morning, like he’d done since they first welcomed him to stay in their house after it was built. The house was so welcoming and warm…. But he knew it wasn’t home for them. They had fallen through space and time to get here. What did their home feel like, he wondered. Did it feel like he felt with them? He knew they searched as best they could, rushing into danger trying to find a way back home…. It wasn’t till Elesa fell with child that they stopped and settled into building some life here. They Grounded themselves to a home in Jubilife. If they found a way back, would the house feel so warm? The thought left him feeling empty. Would he return to that darkness he knew all too well? He’d never thought much about his future up until recently. He wanted to know the warmth they longed for…. He wanted to know and follow them to whatever embrace it was that was on the other side. He wanted to step into the other side from a time far in the future, even if he was to turn to dust the moment he did. He could scatter himself in the winds of the world they called home and settle peacefully in the lands that gave life to Ingo and Elesa. He’d be happy just to nourish the flowers on the hill for one spring in their time.

The fire shifted and fell, the ash dotting out parts of the fire that once were stronger. He felt a bit cold as he drifted to sleep on the floor, wishing on stars he couldn’t see that there would always be warmth for Ingo, Elesa and the child they were to have.

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 2 years ago

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Day 2

Pairing: Vincent Valentine x reader

Prompt: Hope

Description: You loved him, sure and true. And you wanted him to know, it was okay for him to love you too.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 1022

Notes: I love this man so much its crazy. I tried so hard to also not just choose jojo/fe characters for this list but. its mostly fe...

“Hey, Vincent?” Your voice draws his attention your way. He offers no response, but from his red gaze, you know you have it. “I have… a kind of silly question, if you’ll let me ask.” You smile softly, but there’s an obvious nervousness about you.

It wasn’t like you to be like that. You were so full of life-- so careful and sweet. It felt… wrong to see you like this. See you so serious. This was obviously important to you. Of course he would oblige.

“Silly?” He repeats. His voice feel rough in his throat. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in a while so… he really had no reason to.

“Well… kinda.” You shift your weight from on leg to the other, your gaze always shifting from him, to something else, back to him.

“Go ahead.” He says simply. Continuing walking with you in no particular direction.

“This is kinda just an observation…” You added, folding your hands behind you head as you walked. Trying to seem nonchalant. “But… you don’t let yourself feel a lot of emotions, do you?” Your words seem unsure. Probably because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Admittedly, he does feel a little surprised. Called out, even. But… your not wrong. Some emotions they… weren’t his to have any more. Who was he to feel happy, feel content, or hopeful for all he had done?

“Why do you ask?” He doesn’t answer directly, but you both know you’re right.

“Well… not to be like, you need my permission or anything…” You laugh sightly, the nerves he had noticed in you the entire time finally making way to your voice. “But I want you to feel like that it’s okay, you know?” Your voice is smaller. The two of you naturally stop walking as you turn to him. “Perhaps this is the silly part of this but… I want you to be happy.” You say softly.

“Me, happy?” He echoes, testing the word on his tounge. It felt wrong.

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it.” You huff dramatically, running a hand through your hair with a big sigh. “I want you to be happy… with me.” You say it slowly, words coming out as if you had to force them. His gaze has never left you.

“...I don’t hate you, if that’s what you think.” He offers to you, and you scoff.

“No, that’s not it. I mean, that’s great to hear, but what I mean is…” You trail off, meeting his gaze again and stopping. Studying him a moment, perhaps looking for the right words to say. Or maybe the courage to say them.

“You… you give me hope. A lot of it. A lot of good feelings, even.” You shake you head. “Geez, I sound so dumb…” You hold your head with one hand. “What I mean to say is, you make me happy. So happy sometimes, I’m fit to burst.” There, with your trademark goofy grin. “I’d like to return the favor. See you happy. See you full of hope. Maybe even smiling.” Your grin grows as your ambitions do.

“...I see.” It takes him a moment to mull over the words. He can see it in your gaze, in the way you try to keep up your smile for him and raise your eyebrows to hope. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to feel that way again…” There’s a sigh in his voice, and you falter.

“Can you try?” Your voice is small. Vincent can’t help but soften at your tone. You’ve never looked so hurt. “For me?”

He can’t help but blink owlishly. “For… you?” He repeats.

“Well actually… for us.” You look up at him. “I love you so much Vincent, so much that I want to see you happy, want to be the one to make you smile…” You fidget under his intense gaze. Vincent can’t help but take a sharp breath.

Love? He… hasn’t loved someone in so long. But with you.

“I-I understand it’s a lot… and I don’t expect you to feel the same.” You admit hastily. “But I want you to know that. That you’re loved.” You tremble as you say the words. “I always thought that, I dunno… a little love would do a lot for you.” If only you knew.

He can’t help but feel the beating of his heart. The idea of you loving him had never even crossed his mind. But now that’s its in there, he can’t help but ponder what it would be like; to love and be loved by you…

And he realizes, this soft feeling bubbling up inside him is hope. Hope that, maybe with you he could… change. Maybe, even, absolve his sins.

“I… can’t say I feel the same.” Even expecting his answer, he sees your mood fall. Sees the way you hold back tears. “I… never thought of loving someone again. Thought I didn’t deserve it.” You nod, sniffling hard. He thinks to speed this up, wanting you to feel better. “But… I can’t lie. I enjoy your company. You make my life lighter and… I find myself looking forward to our time together.” He can’t up but raise a gaunt, gentle as sin as he wipes stray tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Vincent?” Oh, and to hear a sob in your voice… He never wants to see you sad like this again.

“But knowing you love me…” He dares to close his eyes. Imagine something soft and kind with you. “I’d like to try.” It feels like a promise. Perhaps it is, as you end up hugging him, clutching him close until you feel him wrap careful arms around you as well.

“Thank you…” Your words are muffled. “Thank you…” You lift only so he can properly hear your voice, see the shine of tears in your eyes and the smile that pulls on your lips. “You’ll see, I promise. You’ll find something worth being happy for.”

Vincent gives you a smile. He thinks that, perhaps you’ll be that thing worth being happy for. You give him hope for that.

#vincent x reader #vincent valentine x reader #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ff7 vincent

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kunosoura · 2 months ago

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Top 5 FE units (here interpreted to mean “purely in terms of gameplay”)

Seth. It has entertained me for close to 20 years now that in a series that prides itself on how it gives you a wide variety of units and tries to encourage you to come up with a balanced and well built army, one game gives you literally the best unit in the game in the prologue operating at full capacity and capable of soloing the game.

Jill FE10. There’s nothing like being one of the only decent units in a roster of trash to really make an otherwise-good-at-best unit shine.

Lysithea, essentially infinite use warp goes crazy and that’s on top of already arguably being the best combat mage in the game, I hope more games in the future use the Gaiden/Echoes/3h magic systems

Rafiel, dancing four units a turn is an all timer crazy game design choice, what were they thinking etc (even if it’s balanced out by the endgame making you face like 100 units per map)

Maybe an oddball choice but Echidna, as a representative for every other time the games give you prepromotes in the mid-late game and they’re actually competent units that can immediately find a spot in your deployment list

Top 5 female fe units painfully shafted by shit balancing with heavily gendered stat points

Marisa. Eternally cool design, interesting character, statistically inferior in every significant way to Joshua who joins way earlier and in a way more ready to use state. You can’t even cope and say she’s decent as an assassin because luck doesn’t factor into crit rate in fe8.

Sophia. All time Nadir of FE gameplay design. Joins near the end of the fucking game at level one with worse averages than Every other mage so she isn’t even an Est. She’s literally just there to be a liability on the desert map. Holy fuck.

Lyn. Honestly so much of FE7 feels straight disrespectful to her. The bar to clear here was Celica man holy fuck.

Wendy. What if we made an armor unit that had no bulk and did no damage. Maybe the platonic example of “we made her worse than her niche competition because she’s a girl”. Fir is also a good example from 6, maybe a very subdued one in that she’s not terrible or unusable, just mechanically inferior to the male competition in the ways that matter.

Karla. Honestly similarly to Sophia she doesn’t feel like a unit you’re supposed to take seriously at all. I mean, hidden behind bringing a bad unit you won’t use along the whole game and getting him strong enough to face her in an arena but not so strong you’ll kill her, and then she’s worse even than the other pre promote swordmaster you get earlier at higher level for less effort? I guess Karel is technically optional, but still.

I thought of a good chunk of examples from Tellius but most of those were honestly more about how tellius hated a lot of unit types. Micaiah is maybe the series’ least impressive lord but how much of that is that she’s a girl and how much of it is the fact that she’s in a game that fucking hates mages.

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four-loose-screws · 6 months ago

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FE6 Novelization Translation - Chapter 14 Section 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

Chapter 14 - Breath of Fate (Section 2)

*Note: The 1st 13 chapters are FE7's novelization.

“What I need to know is where Her Highness is now!”

In the castle on the border with Lycia, Belreth, Milady’s shouting was echoing through the entrance hall. She was a female wyvern rider and commander of Guinivere, Princess of Bern's, personal guard.

She wore a deep red suit of armor, and her almond eyes were seething with anger, glaring at the short, plump man in front of her.

He was the lord of this castle, Rude. The livid anger on her face made him break out in a cold sweat and plead, “And I-I’m telling you, Commander Milady… Sh-She was in her room this morning…”

“I’ve been told that multiple times! I'm asking you where she is now!”

“Um, uh…”

“Our decisive battle with the Lycian League could start at any minute. What would we do if anything happened to her?!” Milady continued shouting, then crossed her arms and bit her lip.

‘She did suddenly say she wanted to see the border… I really should have stopped her.’ The person she was supposed to be guarding, Princess Guinivere, had declared out of seemingly nowhere the day before that she wanted to survey the situation at the Lycian border. Milady said that it was dangerous for her to go out on the front line, and strongly rejected her proposal, but the princess was so insistent that Milady relented and brought her to this castle.

But at dawn, Guinivere and the cleric that served her both disappeared.

Milady did not know what had happened, but because she was supposed to protect her mistress, she saw Guinivere’s going missing as her own personal failure.

But no matter how much she blamed herself, it would not help get the princess back. She immediately shifted her focus and went directly to Rude to give him her orders.

“I've been ordered to return to the capital. You will find Her Highness, so this cannot become an even bigger problem than it already is!” Milady said without waiting for a response, before storming out of the room.

Rude looked out the meeting room window and up at the sky.

Before him, he saw Milady and the imperial guard that served her all straddle their wyverns and take flight. They gradually became smaller and smaller. After he was certain that they had disappeared completely, he turned around to face the soldier standing behind him.

“Nothing has changed with Princess Guinivere, has it?”

“No, Sir. As you ordered, we are keeping a close eye on her in one of the cells in the dungeon.”

“Excellent. Do whatever it takes to make sure she does not escape.” Rude said with a smile on his face, happy to hear his soldier’s report.

Princess Guinivere had gone missing - and it was all in accordance with Rude's orders. The night before, when Milady’s imperial guard took their eyes off her, he locked her and her attendant up together in the dungeon.

Seeing Rude treat their king’s younger sister with a complete lack of respect made the soldier feel uneasy, so he spoke up and said, “A-Are you sure? Should we be doing something like this…?”

“Worry not. There are many, many groups that are currently hostile towards our country. Whoever we sell the princess of Bern to… they will pay us so handsomely that we will never have to work another day in our lives!”

Bern was a country that highly revered hard work and living a simple lifestyle. To rise quickly in social status, superior talent in combat skills was a necessity. Rude was not good at fighting, nor did he have the intelligence to make up for that weakness. Neither did he have the wealth or connections to buy his way into a position in the government.

But he was a little bit cunning, and by stretching that skill to its limits, he had come up with his current plan.

And so far, his gamble of a lifetime was all going according to plan.

As Rude gloated at the thought of how much money would soon be his, the soldier said hesitantly, “Y-Yes, Sir. …There’s just one problem with your plan…”

“What do you mean?”

“I just received word… that Princess Guinivere’s attendant has escaped…”

“What?! You fool! Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?!” Rude shouted as the color drained from his face.

If word of this got out, then he would lose his current social status. The crime he was attempting to commit was so great that not only he, but his entire family could be killed for it. Anyone who could possibly reveal his plot had to be exterminated.

“Find her this instant! You cannot let her get away!”

☆

As Rude flew into a panic and started to look for the escaped cleric, the Pherae army, led by Roy, was just arriving in front of the small village on the opposite side of the mountain next to the castle.

Roy, out of consideration for the villagers who might be scared by a large group of soldiers marching through the middle of their home, had most of his forces wait outside, while only Marcas and a few others went inside.

Because the village was on the border of a country at war, very few people were out and about, making it feel nearly deserted.

“Lord Roy, I am certain that this is the place.” Explained Merlinus, serving as not only the leader of the convoy carriages, but also as an adviser to the young boy.

He was a government official who had now served House Pherae for over twenty years as the person in charge of all their finances. If Marcus was the most essential soldier in Pherae’s army, then Merlinus was the person who contributed the most directly within their government.

In his old age, all the hair on top of his head had fallen out, but both his mind and body were in such good health that one would never believe he was as old as he was.

“Is this where we will meet up with the mercenaries my father said he hired?”

“Yes. …However, I don’t see anyone here yet.” Merlinus ook a good look across the village, but didn’t see anyone that fit the description of a group of mercenaries.

Roy decided to let everyone take a short break until the mercenaries arrived. The road ahead would be long. If they did not rest when they had the opportunity to do so, they would be unable to make their move when the time came to fight.

Just as he was about to give his soldiers the order to leave the village, a cleric came running up to them, completely out of breath. It seemed like someone was chasing her, as she looked behind her constantly, paying so little attention to Roy in front of her that she bumped straight into him.

“I-I’m sorry… I was in such a hurry that… um…” She wore the robes of a cleric of St. Elimine’s church, and apologized profusely for her rudeness.

“I’m fine. I’m more concerned about you…”

“Ah… I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’m happy that you aren’t hurt.” Roy said with a kind smile that also made the cleric smile back.

Her long, chestnut colored hair glistened with sweat, and her chest was heaving violently. As further proof that she had been running as fast as she could, the sleeves and hem of her cassock were covered in a light layer of dirt and dust.

After calming her breathing back down, she asked timidly, “Um… Are you… from Lycia?”

Her eyes glanced up at the flag his cavaliers were flying. It was the flag of the Lycian League, decorated with a sword surrounded by flames on a white background. It represented the founder of the Kingdom of Lycia, which predated the current Lycian League, Roland. He was one of the Eight Legendary Heroes of Elibe, known also as the Little Knight.

The crest on the flag was an image of the divine weapon he wielded, Durandal.

“Yes, I am Roy, son of Marquess Pherae.”

“Ah…! Oh, Goddess Elimine! I thank you for your guidance!!”

“Huh?”

She suddenly started thanking the goddess, causing Roy to open his eyes wide in surprise.

But she ignored his shock and pleaded, “My name is Ellen. I am a cleric of St. Elimine’s Church. Please… won’t you help my mistress?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My mistress wanted to meet with the marquesses of the Lycian League, and made it this far. But… then she fell into Rude’s trap, and he captured her! He is the lord of the castle in this area, Belreth.”

“L-Lord Roy! We can do no such thing! Fighting an unnecessary battle here with Bern would not be a wise strategy!” Merlinus was direct in expressing his opposition to Ellen's plea.

Roy's army was rather small at the moment, and they still hadn't met up with the mercenary group yet. They also didn't know how strong the forces stationed at Belreth Castle were, nor anything else about its current status.

It was too dangerous of a fight for them on their own. Roy knew that. “It is too risky for us to make any rash movements. But we cannot just abandon someone who came to meet with the marquesses…”

Just as he finished his sentence, they saw several soldiers appear from the woods near the village.

They appeared to be looking for something, as their eyes were darting around in all directions. That is, they were until they saw the cleric standing next to Roy, and one shouted, “There she is! Over there!! Do whatever it takes to get her back! She is coming with us, dead or alive!”

“Aaaaah…!” Ellen shrieked.

With it now clear that the Bern soldiers intended to fight them, the moment Roy heard Ellen scream in terror, Roy made up his mind. “Merlinus, if they started the battle, then we have no choice but to fight back, do we?” He said with his eyes on the Bern soldiers.

The first person to give a response to his decision directly was Alen, as commander of Pherae’s cavalier vanguard unit.

“Let’s do this, Lord Roy! Leave the vanguard to me, Alen!”

“Alen, do not be so rash. Do you think you’re going to rush headfirst into battle without taking in any observation of your surroundings, like you did in our previous battle against the bandits? This enemy is a proper army!” His fellow cavalier Lance was angered by his words, and scolded him.

But Alen did not feel the same way in the slightest, instead thumping his fist against his chest and saying, “I’ll be fine! I shouldn’t run into any trouble if I follow you around!”

“Seriously… You never learn…” Lance said, but still had a smile on his face, as he was not opposed to fighting Bern here either.

“C’mon, Lance! Not a level-headed soldier like you too! No matter how you look at it, this is…”

“Give it up now, Lord Merlinus. Once Lord Roy has made the decision for us to fight, it is our job to work towards claiming victory!” Marcus said to pressure Merlinus, still protesting even now.

At the words of a veteran general, even the veteran government official had no choice but to fold. “I concede defeat.… If there's no changing his mind, then shall we see how much he has grown during his time in Ostia?”

“I won’t let you down! Our goal is to attack Belreth Castle! You go hide somewhere safe…” Roy told Ellen to stay in the very back.

But she shook her head and said, “No, please take me with you. I cannot fight, but I can help your wounded.”

“Really? But…”

“I appeared before you out of nowhere and asked for your assistance with a request that does not involve you. Please at least allow me to do something to help.”

“Alright. In exchange, I ask that you do not put yourself at risk.” Roy said, then returned to the front line to march his army into battle.

The Pherae army entrusted Alen and his troops to be their vanguard. He rushed into battle, directly flanked by Lance and Marcus. This was a complete surprise attack, and so the enemy army did not know the best formation to fight in. Because of that, when they were rushed into battle, none of their soldiers were properly prepared for combat, and they were in total chaos.

The number of soldiers that Belreth Castle sent out to fight them was much higher. But since they were not expecting to fight Lycia either, at the beginning of the battle, they were also not ready to fight.

However, as the battlefield gradually calmed, the enemy army started to put up a long, hard fight by shutting themselves into the fort on the front line. Even Pherae's cavaliers, who demonstrated unmatched strength on flat land, struggled during sieges and attacks on forts.

As the battle slowly reached a stalemate, another army appeared from the road located south of the fort built on the Bern side of the country border.

Their leader was a muscular mercenary with scars over his eyes and on his cheek.

He was the commander of this army… or more accurately, this group of mercenaries, Dieck.

“They should be waiting somewhere around here… Shanna, look around and see if the Pherae army is close by.”

“You got it!” Shanna replied cheerfully, and flew up into the sky on her mount, a pegasus.

Though she was still just a young trainee, she was already an expert in maneuvering her pegasus. The mercenary group deeply appreciated her invaluable reconnaissance skills.

One of their other members, a powerful fighter named Wade, watched her disappear upwards, then asked, “Commander Dieck, who is our employer this time?”

“House Pherae, one of Lycia’s territories. The marquess’ son is going to help lead the Lycian army.”

“Then that would mean our foe is the Kingdom of Bern?”

Another member, Lot, followed up with his own question. He was from the same village as Wade, and often served the role of stopping him from rushing recklessly into battle.

“Yes, it does.”

“Heh he he, sounds fun! My muscles are tingling already!”

“Bern, huh? They’re going to be a tough opponent… If we go in unprepared, then we’ll be in trouble!”

Both Wade and Lot shared their individual feelings of the battle at hand, just as Shanna was already returning from gathering reconnaissance.

“I found a person at the northern fort that matches the description of our employer! But he seems to already be involved in a skirmish.”

“Huh? They’ve already started?! Then let’s go!”

The moment he heard Shanna’s report, Dieck grabbed his iron blade that he carried on his back and immediately broke away from his spot in the front of his group’s formation, then ran towards the battlefield. Each of his mercenaries also unsheathed their own weapon, and followed after him.

The addition of Dieck and his mercenaries was more than enough to completely change the tide of battle.

“Let’s go, everyone! Cut into their ranks from the side!” Dieck shouted his orders out as loudly as he could.

The mercenaries were much more agile than the heavily armored knights. Using that difference to their advantage, they all climbed the mountain to the west of the fort, then charged down it at once to unleash a surprise attack.

“I-It can’t be! Are those enemy reinforcements?!”

With this second surprise attack coming from a direction they did not suspect at all, the Bern soldiers could finally no longer hold the fort, so they abandoned it. Now that the front line had lost their higher ground, Belreth’s forces crumbled back into chaos, and started to flee.

“Grrrr! You cowards! Hold your ground and keep fighting!!”

But no matter how long Rude shouted for, he could not get his troops to reorganize. Once a cowardly wind had blown through an army, it was a difficult task for even the most valiant or intelligent leader to get them back in formation. And Rude was neither valiant nor intelligent. At best, he was a perfectly mediocre commander.

The path between the fort and Belreth Castle was on entirely flat land, and had not a single obstacle along it. Pherae’s army marched along entirely unmatched. They chased after the fleeing Bern soldiers and flooded the castle in one fell swoop.

Before the might of Pherae’s army charging forward with weapons at the ready, Rude kept the castle’s front gate closed, but his face was as white as a sheet.

“Y-You won’t be able to get me while I’m locked up in the ca-” His sentence was cut short.

Holding one’s army up a castle to buy time and call for reinforcements was a common strategy. But Rude could not do that. He had Princess Guinivere inside the dungeon. In the one in a million chance that any reinforcements found her, his life would be ruined forever.

And to make matters even worse for him, the enemy army was protecting the escaped cleric. There was also a chance that they may reveal his secret plot.

The moment Rude realized he would have to drive away the enemy army and kill the cleric alone, he froze in shock. When he turned around, he could clearly see the dust cloud Pherae’s cavaliers were kicking up.

“Just as I was finally getting my chance in life… Damn it!” Those were Rude’s final words.

☆

#fire emblem #fe6 #fire emblem 6 #the binding blade #fire emblem the binding blade #fe6 the binding blade #roy #japan #japanese #translation #novel #novelization #light novel #fe6 novelization translation

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beardedmrbean · 1 year ago

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youtube

A belated Remembrance/Veterans Day, but better to be a day late than to forget all together. This time my thoughts go back to my ancestor Hayward Frank Wade, who was 19 years young when he died in the Battle of Mons. I'll DM you a memorial his hometown created for the Great War's 100th anniversary.

This is Bugler Hayward Wade, 19, the first Worthing man to be killed in action during the war on August 26, 1914. After running out of ammunition, his unit fixed bayonets and charged the Germans, who shot them down. This is an account of his final moments as he lay dying on the battlefield.

They were recorded by a comrade lying wounded beside him. In a letter to Wade’s parents, Sargant FE Ward wrote: “He was with me thought the Battle of Mons, and on that memorable August 26th, when our regiment found part of the defense in the rearguard action. He was with me when I received my first wound, and was wounded himself the next minute, at the close of the terrible charge when it was then growing dark. Men lay all around. One calling your son’s name, he answered quite close to me. I crawled to him and asked where he was hurt and if I could do anything. But my ability was small, having received another shrapnel wound, which smashed my right arm. I find it very hard to put on paper what my feelings were as I lay badly wounded by your son’s side, myself growing weaker and sinking to what I thought would be the end. I can only say that I have often wished that I might meet me end with as brave a front and apparent satisfaction as he did. His last words with always be dear to my memory. Although only comrades, you can understand the love that springs up between in these positions of life and death. I spoke to him as best I could, and well remember his answer: ‘We have done our best, may God bless us all, and England.’ I thought no man prepares for the end could ever meet at with such a calm frontage. I then dropped off to sleep, of unconsciousness, and woke at 11 o’clock the next morning, and on turning toward your son, found him with eyes closed, and apparently dead. I feel sure he had a peaceful end. I can truly say he did his fighting and dying bravely as a soldier. A better soldier I should never wish to have in any charge.” ______________________

Submitted by @eggs-n-ham-sam

All wars are stupid, the people that start them rarely end up suffering for them anymore, WWI was especially stupid, there was no good reason for it to have happened and the echos of it are still creating problems to this day.

Lions led by donkeys.

I like how they set it to "Jupiter" took a moment for that to register, but it feels appropriate to me.

#submission #eggs n ham sam #sunday song #remembrance day #Youtube

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arkus-rhapsode · 2 years ago

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So This is My Spoiler Free Thoughts on Fire Emblem Engage

This is definitely Awakening 2. And I don't just mean because its an anniversary title. But I mean if Awakening was the greatest hits of FE rolled into one game, Engage is the second volume to that. So much of Engage is a love letter to this franchise creating a story that tries to hit on some of the best plot beats in the entire franchise. Yes even if there are storybeats that are predictable they are executed so well. The amount of love this game has for this series is admirable. Some of the cutscenes and storybeats use the switch to the best they can in a post 3DS franchise though still limited and clipping because... yknow Switch and not a main nintentedo development team. But still expressive for something that has always seemed to be limited on its hardware. It makes me super excited for the next FE on the switch.

There is also some of the best immersive experiences in the game with a real stand out being chapter 11 which might have earned itself iconic status.

The characters are generally likeable though its about Awakening level in characterization, though I did notice that this cast honest gets along super well together and it makes sense as this continent hasn't been drenched in conflict till now. Awakening, Fates, Echoes, and 3H all sorta start in a pretty cold conflict worlds.

Now storywise, Alear was good. Its been so long, but we have a protagonist with not only a personality, but an arc. I knew I like Alear the first moment I saw them be genuinely scared of the corrupted and as the story goes (even if you can predict it at points) Alear genuinely grows as a person and they do seem different from what they are. Yes, I get it they're the super special awesome, but yknow what this starts you off with that and builds the plot around so you can focus more on the characters. Honestly, Alear really doesn’t feel like an insert avatar, instead they feel like their own person that you just pick the gender of. And Honestly, I love it.

The Villains were pretty standard FE, but goddamn the FOur Hounds might be one of the best four-man villain team in FE. Zephia in particular.

The acting is pretty great. Adding a lot of heart to every performance. With the one who absolutely crushed it was Megan Taylor Harvey.

If I had some criticisms, the emblems themselves really are kinda tools and their rules really are played fast and loose with. Also they leave me a bit confused on how they exist. However I think their paralogues are at least some fun fanservice. That said they are basically just tools. Im glad its not really "their story" like Chrom in Awakening is the real protagonist, but I definetly felt like their existent could be replaced with any old legendary weapon.

The music is also kinda a bit off for me. There are some tracks I really dug, but nothing stuck out like Echoes or 3H. Probably my favorite is the Solm music. The Four Hounds track Im not sure if I like or not.

As a mark against the characters, we do have a fates problem where there's a two royal siblings in each country, but only the older siblings get plot armor. That wouldn't be too bad but they also come with two retainers each so there's some cast bloat. I know its to give you more options.

The difficulty curve also gets insane near the end. Thank god resources and the time rewind are limitless because boy some of these maps are unforgivable. The worst in my opinion being chapter 24s.

Also there's only one paired ending and its who you chose to pair with, which sucks. But hey maybe you'll avod getting a weird ending. Speaking of pairing this game's supports generally felt way grindier. If you are just looking for Alear supports, spam gifts on the Sommniel. But for anyone else, get ready to basically solve a pairing puzzle.

Now I came in with managed expectations before the game had come. I was gonna use Awakening as my meter stick as its the only other anniversary game. So I didn't expect this to be some deep political, game of thrones style story. So I found this expirence very nice for what it was.

Fire Emblem Engage is like a big budget popcorn flick of a game. Its got questionable mechanics or story points, but the real substances is giving you this exciting journey that shows off big impactful moments wrapped up in a pretty package. Basically it is an MCU movie mixed with a Fast and the Furious movie. And yknow what, I will take something that wants to be a fun and passionate romp over something trying to be epic and serious and complex that ends up not capable of pulling off that momentum for the entire run and leaving you unsatisfied wondering what could've been done differently . And

honestly... with the romantic fantasy, the over the top animeness, but still able to make a cast you care about and story you do get invested in even with some cheesey but endearing writing... That's classic FE right there. That is some Kaga-level FE. We just added different fashion

Fire Emblem Engage is a fun game and if you are a fan of the franchise, I think you will enjoy it if you want to get on this wild celebratory rollercoaster.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #fee

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secretagentfan · 11 months ago

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Not us (No never)

FE Three Houses - Russian Doll (2019)

Dimisylvix

Thought I'd share here too because it's been a minute since I've posted a fic and this one has been fun.

On Archive!

“Come on Eileen” echoes through walnut floor-standing speakers proving that, despite having a streetwise best man capable of getting private reservations at the nicest bar in town, Ashe’s taste is an affront to mankind.

Yuri, the best man in question, is currently walking away after playing sommelier to a tipsy, giggling Mercedes. Felix glares at him.

“Eyes elsewhere Fraldarius,” Yuri drawls. “It’s Ashe’s last day of bachelorhood, so allow him his terrible taste in Celtic folk pop, and be glad I spared you all the trip to Medieval Times. There are limits to what I can do.”

“That’s a blatant lie.”

“Why Felix, I’m flattered you believe me so capable.”

Perfect timing— Felix has been aching for a fight. He throws the verbal gauntlet: “Everything about this place screams mob connections. Not a single thing happens under this roof without you, his best man, allowing it to happen. That includes the shitty music—”

“Hm, someone really got up on the wrong side of the bed today. You really want to talk about my alleged mob connections at our sweet friend’s bachelor party, or shall we walk that back?”

“Walking it back sounds good,” Sylvain interrupts, returning from the open bar. His red hair is mussed and he smells like some combination of cologne, brandy, and cigarettes. So he’s started smoking again. Annoying. “What are we talking about?”

“Felix seems to be in a grouchier mood than usual.”

“Oh, don’t tell him that; he thinks he’s being subtle.”

Felix scoffs. He’s fine. Fuck them. The caramel-colored shot in Sylvain’s hand is significantly more important than whatever’s leaving his mouth, and Felix overlaps the familiar fingers with his own to tip it back.

“Whoa, hey, at least ask, Felix,” Sylvain complains but lets it happen. He winks at Yuri. “I’ve gotta say, you’ve done a great job on the party. Not at all what I expected from Ashe.”

“Sometimes he needs a reminder that he can actually be fun. Have you seen him?”

Sylvain gestures behind him, and Felix can make out Ashe alone on a barstool. He’s obviously a little drunk, openly fiddling with his engagement ring, a dopey grin on his face. Yuri shakes his head.

“He makes a terrible barfly. I’ll go liven things up before he pulls out a book. Enjoy yourselves, you two.”

“Later Yuri.”

Sylvain’s drunk too, right hand drifting to Felix’s waist in a way that would never happen sober. His breath tickles Felix’s ear. “How’d my shot taste?”

“Bad,” Felix replies, not stepping out of the half-hearted embrace. They’d fucked twice before. Maybe they’d fuck a third time. Maybe that would salvage the day. Dedue and Ashe were somehow getting married, anything could happen.

That was unfair. Felix didn’t mean to think that. The truth was, they deserved it, deserved each other and the surprisingly nice bachelor party even if it was undoubtedly procured through means that would probably piss Ashe off. Felix was just—

Somewhere behind them, a glass breaks. There’s laughter so it’s probably Annette’s doing. Everything was too damn loud. Felix still hadn’t seen him anywhere.

Sylvain’s fingers squeeze his waist.

“Seriously, what’s eating you, Felix? You’re not usually this tense.”

“I am.”

Sylvain actually laughs. “You know I’m just going to keep asking, right?”

He will. Felix could stonewall him, but he isn’t a coward. They can talk around this. “Lost the cat.”

“Aw wait, seriously? The one that’s been following you around?”

“Is there another cat I’d be referring to?”

“Okay, okay. Well, sorry. That’s awful. What happened?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t shown up in a few weeks. I’ve been feeding it—”

“Hold on, you’ve been feeding it—”

“You know what, I’m not having this conversation.”

“No, no no. Just hang on Felix.” Sylvain grabs his hand. “You want to go search for it?”

It’s a stupid offer. The cat doesn’t matter, but still, something dead stirs in Felix. Sylvain means it; he’d ditch the whole party to search for a stray. Felix yanks away, rubbing his wrist. “Of course not. If it’s dead it’s dead, I’m not going to waste the night looking for a corpse.”

“It might not actually be dead, though. What if it’s just shivering in the park somewhere? We could—”

“Do you want to have sex or not?”

The words leave Felix before he can think them through fully. It’s the alcohol, probably, but the surprise blossoming on Sylvain’s face is starting to feel pretty rewarding too.

“Seriously? Now? Today?”

Felix shrugs. “I don’t have condoms so we’ll have to buy some somewhere. I trust that won’t be an issue?”

Sylvain frowns. “You’re…sure? Felix, I’m a little—and aren’t you…?”

“Drunk? Yeah. It isn’t like we haven’t done it before. Take it or leave it.”

Those are the magic words. Sylvain’s expression snaps to a neutral grin— unreadable.

“Well when you put it like that, I’ll take it. We should say bye to Ashe and Dedue first though.”

They do.

Sylvain calls the driver he’s supposed to use for necessities only to take them to one of the worst 7-11’s Felix has ever laid eyes on. Scratches on the walls give the distinct impression a trapped rodent gave his all before letting death claim him behind the humming slurpee machines.

Before they leave Sylvain calls “Felix,” in a low, quiet way and sloppily kisses him against the checkout counter.

Felix pays way too much for a box of condoms and doesn’t notice the eyes on them.

They agree to fuck at Sylvain’s place because it’s closer, and Sylvain once found a crusty half-fossilized piece of pizza on Felix’s couch and has never let him forget it.

Sex isn’t difficult.

Touching Sylvain feels good, warm and simple. He kisses too hard and hugs too tightly, even when their clothes are on, but it’s an alive sort of feeling that fills Felix when they’re in bed together. Electricity under his skin. Still fresh enough there’s a novelty to the act.

It helps that Sylvain is stupidly adventurous. Curious and clever with his fingers and mouth, eager to test limits and see what he or Felix can take. He doesn’t complain when Felix bites more than he kisses, and maybe that’s why they keep ending up here.

Every time it seems Felix notices something new about Sylvain: how strong his thighs are, white vein-like scars on his fingertips, under his nails.

Wait.

“When did you get these?” Felix asks, catching Sylvain’s hand. It’s still damp from Felix’s saliva. Ugh. Weird.

“You’re asking that now?” Sylvain breathes out, pupils dark. “Just kid stuff, don’t worry about it.”

What kind of kid stuff would lead to finger scars? Felix almost asks, but all thoughts temporarily abandon him as Sylvain sucks down hard on his neck, making him grunt.

“Got you,” Sylvain grins, tongue flicking over the mark he undoubtedly just left. “Told you I’d pull some sounds out of you eventually.”

“That wasn’t a sound,” Felix lies. “Air was just leaving my mouth.”

“Yeah with a vocalization attached.”

“So?”

“That’s a—” Sylvain actually pulls back, eyes narrowing. “C’mon Felix, have we really reached the point in this process where you’re denying what a sound is?”

“Shut up.”

“Guess I’ll have to remind you, over and over again.”

“Hm, get to work then.”

Sylvain’s good at undressing him. He doesn’t waste time. For someone who spends all his time talking about romance and fucking and girls, girls, girls, Sylvain knows how to handle a dick. Knows exactly the amount of pressure to put around Felix to make him gasp, arch, cum.

It works, enough.

Felix crawls over him after, kissing him in the rough way he likes, and thinks, infuriatingly, about the stupid cat, shivering in the cold somewhere. Sylvain tangles his fingers in his hair and makes to turn them over. Felix blindly grabs for his boxers.

“I have to go,” he says. Now Sylvain’s looking at him in that sleepy-fucked-confused way that means he’s about to insist on another round, but Felix is already on his feet, pulling his coat off one of Sylvain’s stupid abstract sculptures.

“Wait, now?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back later.”

“You going to tell me where you’re going?”

“Do you need to know that information?”

Sylvain swallows. “Well, I can’t say I’d mind knowing it, but I guess you can just take off cryptically into the snow instead.”

“There’s nothing cryptic about it. I’m just leaving. Shut up and wait here,” Felix demands.

“Sure, sure,” Sylvain replies, digging in his nightstand to pull out a cigarette.

Felix crosses his arms, just looking at him. “Really?”

“What? You’re the one choosing the unforgiving snow, I’m just keeping it warm and lonely here.”

It’s obviously bait. Felix doesn’t have time for this.

“Be warm and lonely then,” he says, slamming the door before Sylvain can light up.

There’s a park near Felix’s apartment. They used to have snowball fights here when they were small and stupid. Contests at the lakeside: who could dash from one end of the lake to the other quickly enough so the ice wouldn’t crack. Ingrid partially fell in once, scraped up her leg. She still has the scar. A metal fence got put around the perimeter soon after, but it didn’t matter. None of them wanted to go near the lake after that.

Felix is taller than the fence, now. It always felt so big.

He walks around, searching for the cat, knowing he won’t find it but needing to anyway. The snow builds up gradually until Felix realizes he’s leaving footprints. What the fuck is he doing out here, really?

His phone rings and he silences it without looking at the name. He knows who it is, and he’s not dealing with that now. Felix doesn’t want to think about him. Felix doesn’t want to think about anything.

He keeps circling.

Felix finds the cat only after it’s dark and he’s given up. Point for Sylvain: it’s not dead, but it’s not looking great either. It’s too small, too thin. Its matted tail drags behind it like it can’t be bothered to hold it up anymore. Felix almost calls out to it, but he’d rather die than be caught expecting a response from a dying animal. It’s upsetting.

He hurries into the street instead, scooping the trembling thing to his chest at the crosswalk. It accepts the rough handling without protest.

“Shit,” Felix mumbles, voice softening in a way he’ll never admit. It’s so light. Skin, bones, and a persistently beating heart. He digs in his pocket for his phone to call Sylvain — he’s closest. “Let’s get you someplace warm.”

The sound of brakes and swerving tires pulls him out of it. Felix has always had good reflexes—second only to Glenn in military school. They don’t help him here.

The cat leaps out of his arms with strength Felix didn’t know it had and a yellow cab crashes into him. The windshield cracks and Felix slides over and off it, skull slamming hard onto the curb.

He can’t move.

His head is tilted toward his phone. The screen is broken, but it’s lit up with notifications. They’re still coming. One after the other.

1 missed call from Dimitri

7 missed calls from Ingrid

4 missed calls from Sylvain

The texts are moving too quickly, and Felix’s brain is too full of colors to register the names.

Forgive me.

Where are you?

Felix I need you to fucking answer right now

Call me.

Felix please please answer your phone.

Felix, call me now.

There’s so much blood. Felix is dying here, on the sidewalk outside the stupid park. The realization is oddly tepid, considering. His life doesn’t flash before his eyes— in fact, it just drains out of him.

He wonders if the cat made it.

“Come on Eileen” echoes in his ears and Felix downs his stolen shot, coughing after.

“Whoa, hey, at least ask, Felix— serves you right,” Sylvain complains, yanking the glass out of Felix’s grip. “I’ve gotta say Yuri, you’ve done a great job on the party. Not at all what I expected from Ashe.”

“Sometimes he needs a reminder that he can actually be fun. Have you seen him?”

Sylvain gestures behind him, and Felix doesn’t follow his gaze. His palms are sweating. Something feels unplaceably, impossibly off for a moment. He swallows hard, running his palm over his face.

He’s at Ashe’s bachelor party. Yuri’s probably part of the mob. Felix stole Sylvain’s drink. It feels like he’s taken a few steps away from his body. He breathes out, slowly, focusing enough to catch Yuri’s next sentence.

“He makes a terrible barfly. I’ll go liven things up before he pulls out a book. Enjoy yourselves, you two.”

Everything is…so… Sylvain’s hand slides distractingly around Felix’s waist. Felix slaps it away— dammit he needs to think.

“Man,” Sylvain whines. “Guess it’s going to be like that.”

Something vague slides into place in the very back of Felix’s head; he grips the hand he just slapped.

“Don’t grab me now, I’m thinking,” he grouches. He’s forgetting something important. Sylvain studies his face for a moment, a previously missing clarity slipping into his relaxed, drunken expression.

“What’s eating you, Felix? You’re not usually this tense.”

Wires connect. Felix finds one of the things he’s looking for.

“I lost the cat,” he says, testing.

“Aw wait, seriously? The one that’s been following you around?”

Felix can’t believe he has to explain this again. “Yes, the one that’s been following me around. What the fuck was in that drink?”

“Huh? The one you just stole? It was brandy, I think. You’re not dizzy or anything are you? I swear I watched the bartender pour it and everything—”

Felix steps out of his hold. “Shut up, you’re the last person I need mothering me. I’ve done this before.”

“I should hope so, Felix. I’m pretty sure I was there for your first drink—”

“—Not the stupid alcohol, the cat! I went to find the cat after we…”

Felix trails off, very clearly remembering Sylvain’s breath at his throat, palming his dick. Scars on his fingertips. He turns Sylvain’s hand, examining— sure enough, they’re there: faint and white.

It’s Sylvain’s turn to pull away. “Not that I’m opposed to all this contact, but what are you doing Felix?”

“Have you always had those scars?”

Sylvain’s face goes slack, just slightly, in the way it always does when Felix cuts too close to the quick. Maybe that wasn’t the thread to pull at. Felix cringes. What the hell is he doing, grabbing Sylvain, interrogating him about his scars?

Sylvain shakes it off, fingers closing tightly around Felix’s. “This cat really has you shaken up, huh? You want to go search for it?”

Felix’s heart pulls, Sylvain’s hand feels deeply necessary for a moment, a grounding force in a collapsing reality. He looks away.

“Yeah.”

Sylvain lets go, offering him a small smile. “You got it, then. We should say bye to Ashe and Dedue first though.”

They do.

“Let me get this straight, Felix. You’re saying we hooked up again, and you went out here to find the cat and got hit by a taxi in…what? Another reality?”

Snow’s starting to fall. It catches in Sylvain’s hair. Felix glares at it.

“When you say it like that I sound insane.”

“Well, I can’t exactly say you sound totally right in the head Felix. You’re pretty light, but the cab would have to be going pretty fast to get you to roll over it. I’m not even sure that’s possible— just gravitationally speaking.”

“I’m telling you it happened.”

“I’m just saying, what’s more likely: another universe, or you had a little too much and had one hell of a waking dream?”

“I’m not making it up!” Felix growls. “I don’t know why I expected you to get it. Just leave me alone. I’ll find the cat myself.”

“No way, I’ve got to learn more about this other reality.”

“Fuck you.” Felix glares, cheeks hot as he tries to scrape together a defense for whatever absurd thing is happening inside him. “I don’t know, okay? I just know it felt real.”

“That real, huh? I��d like to think I’m better than whatever dream me showed you. If you want a demonstration, I’m happy to get your mind off things.”

Sylvain’s hand brushes Felix’s and dammit he really can turn any moment into an awful line, can’t he?

“I’ll pass,” Felix grunts, pulling away. “I’m still thinking about bleeding out on the side of the road.”

“Oh, come on! I left more of an impression than that, right?”

“Trust me, I’ve already forgotten you.”

“Ouch!” Sylvain’s dry laugh echoes in the empty park. They’re leaving behind two sets of circling footprints now. Something pricks unpleasantly in the back of Felix’s skull. He reaches for his phone, checks the messages. No calls. No texts. His head throbs. Something is missing. Something is wrong.

It’s starting to get dark. Felix pulls his jacket tighter around himself.

“Hang on, hang on, stop walking for a sec,” Sylvain says suddenly, crouching in the snow.

For a moment, Felix thinks he’s found the cat and gets down to join him, but then scarred fingers wrap around his wrist, and Sylvain’s entirely too-warm left hand covers Felix’s.

“What,” Felix bites out. He realizes, with mounting exhaustion, that this was a trap all along. Sylvain held his hand like this all the time when they were kids and he had to ask for Felix to cover him while he did something idiotic. As if tonight wasn’t enough already.

“Don’t bite my head off yet,” Sylvain says, voice uncharacteristically serious. “Look, we’ve talked around this enough. Dimitri’s been out for two months now. He’s always asking about you. When are you going to actually have a conversation with him?”

Felix bristles, yanking out of Sylvain’s grip and standing up. His heart squeezes in his chest.

“What does the boar have to do with any of this?”

Sylvain’s measured voice only serves to make Felix’s ears ring harder. “Felix it’s been five years. He was at the party, even if you didn’t see him. I know you still care.”

“Like you understand any of it! You weren’t there!”

“I wasn’t,” Sylvain allows, and repeats, softer. “I wasn’t. So maybe I jumped the gun and you’re not ready to talk about this now but—”

“Maybe save psychoanalyzing me for when you can spend one night alone in your own bed, Sylvain.”

Sylvain takes the sentence as the blow it was intended to be, expression hardening.

Felix spots the cat. Still malnourished, limping across the crosswalk. His body acts on reflex, dashing into the street.

Brakes. Swerving.

Felix’s life does flash before his eyes this time: he sees himself as a child, snowball fights with Glenn, Ingrid, Dimitri, sneaking out past curfew in military school to trade blows, Glenn and Dimitri’s deployment, bloody teeth on the counter, Dimitri’s trial, his promise with Sylvain, the fucking cat, bleeding out on the sidewalk, two sets of footprints—

And he’s yanked back onto the curb.

“Felix, shit! That was way too close. Are you okay?”

He’s looking at Sylvain, wide-eyed and breathless.

For some reason, the first thing out of Felix’s mouth instead of the intended thanks is: “A fucking taxi cab. I told you.”

“So watch where you’re going!” Sylvain shouts, visibly agitated. “What the hell, Felix?”

Felix’s heart is in his ears. He almost died. No, he almost died again, and for what? Words leave him him without permission, like Sylvain knocked loose the seal on a fire hydrant.

“Fuck off Sylvain, I would have been fine! I didn’t ask you to protect me!”

“You’re not serious,” Sylvain repeats, incredulous. “You’re really yelling at me, now. Right now?”

“I said fuck off! Just leave me alone!”

And now Felix is running. Legs taking him as fast as he can away from this moment and toward whatever’s left of that stupid cat. He chases it back into the park, scooping it up before it can shimmy under the fence to walk across the iced-over lake. It goes lax in his arms.

Felix, in a moment of exhausted triumph, leans against the short fence. He’s older now. He’s fine. The cat purrs quietly in his arms, and Felix feels a little better.

Then he doesn’t.

“Dammit,” he whispers.

He should probably apologize to Sylvain when he sees him next. He doesn’t know where to start with Dimitri. What the hell was he supposed to do?

At least he got the cat. Everything else can fall into place when Felix is somewhere quiet, indoors, and unlikely to kill him. The cat is just as cold as it was earlier, ribs still protruding. Felix wonders for a fleeting moment if it needs a vet and then he isn’t holding the cat.

His arms are empty, cradling nothing at all. There’s no heartbeat in his arms, no mangy creature.

He’s still outside. It’s still snowing.

The cat was there, he was holding it, and now he wasn’t.

The fence creaks, tips, and before Felix can think twice about it, he falls into the frozen lake.

#dimisylvix #sylvix #dimilix #fire emblem three houses #my fic #been a minute since I've posted -anything- tumblr is a different place now #yet somehow the same #hi

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