#false dragonhead

[faguscarolinensis]

Physostegia virginiana / Obedient Plant at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[thebotanicalarcade]

n225_w1150 by Biodiversity Heritage Library Via Flickr: The botanical cabinet London :John & Arthur Arch ...,1817-1833. biodiversitylibrary.org/page/28887974

[gothpossums]

can't you see that you're lost? can't you see that you're lost without me?

i can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

i can see through the scars inside you

[carolinawrenn]

Obedient plant (Physostegia virginiana). Also known as false dragonhead, Virginia lions-heart, and obedience. A member of the mint family.

[svsssbrainworms]

🍃 SVSSS fic rec list

yippeeeeeee!!! (shen yuan / bingqiu -centric edition) 1/3

[ truth serum/fix it; canon compliant/post canon; shen yuan transmigrates into someone else; disciple shen yuan/child shen yuan ]

truth serum / fix it

• right from the start, I gave you my heart

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible." Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.” "That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you." Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain— “A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.  or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

• save your tears (for another day) 

In which the SYSTEM provided Shen Qingqiu a way to distract Luo Binghe during their reunion in the Jinlan City Arc: And then he felt it, a hot and stinging sensation in his eyes.  Something warm and wet trailed down his cheek.His vision blurred and he hurriedly tried blinking it away. Shen Qingqiu quickly wiped his face before anyone could see. He stared at the wet trail in his hand in horror and betrayal. What the fuck, SYSTEM?! Too late, Luo Binghe already saw it, judging by the sharp intake of breath and everyone going silent around him.

• What Is Seen

…is not [always] the real truth. Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

canon compliant / post-canon

• That's NOT A REAL TROPE you Hack Author!

So. It turns out that Shang Qinghua was taking commissions on the side to write fanfiction of his own novel. Truly, his shamelessness knows no bounds, ect., ect., what else is new?! The problem is, now the System has found those stories, and shoved them in the middle of Shen Qingqiu's Happy Ever After! It can't be too bad, though, right? It's not like Airplane-bro wasn't already abusing every trope known to man! Only... What trope is this supposed to be??? "Great Master" Airplane, bro, why are all these tropes wrong??? Did you... Did you seriously scam people out of their money without knowing what their requests meant?! - A story of tropes where all the tropes are wrong.

• Imposter Syndrome 

"Don't make any hasty moves!" Shen Qingqiu said, keeping one hand lightly on the wrist of the Liu Qingge closest to him. Which -- he thought this was the same one that he'd been following down the stairs, whose hand he had taken in the dark, but he couldn't be sure. Which was, of course, exactly the point and the problem. "I know what this is." "You recognize this?" gulped one of the Shang Qinghuas. There were five of them, all trying to sidle into corners or otherwise get out of the line of sight, but this one looked correct to Shen Qingqiu. He turned towards the author-turned transmigrator. "Yes, and I'm sure you will too with a little prompting," he said, glaring at Shang Qinghua. "We're dealing with doppelgangers."

• Something White, Green, and Embarassed All Over

Shen Yuan knew the system was being too kind by giving him a perfectly good body to suddenly live in, he knew there had to be some other drawback. Of course he still had to deal with (the more minor) symptoms from his previous life! What kind of Peak Lord gets nosebleeds, system!?

• Treading Well-Worn Paths

After Shen Qingqiu married Luo Binghe, Yue Qingyuan thought his role in the man’s life was over.  However, as he carried the child-sized lord of Qing Jing Peak in his arms, he was grateful for this unexpected opportunity to bond with the person he cherished most. Shen Yuan, meanwhile, wondered desperately where the hell he was.

shen yuan transmigrates into someone else

• Tarnished Gold

Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him. The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life. Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy. - Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.

•  Locked and Loaded

 [THIS SYSTEM IS SORRY FOR USER’S DISSATISFACTION WITH HIS ASSIGNED ROLE, BUT IT IS THE BEST CHOICE IF THE GOAL IS TO CHANGE THE NOVEL FOR THE BETTER! AS AN APOLOGY GIFT FOR THIS AND THE DELAY ON LOADING USER INTO HIS ASSIGNED ROLE, THIS SYSTEM CAN GRANT 1(one) SPECIAL ITEM OF USER’S CHOOSING!] ‘... So I can wish for anything?' [USER ヽ(；▽；)ノ! YES, 1(one) SPECIAL ITEM OF USER 'S CHOOSING!]  ‘Then, I wish for a gun.’ [ ...【・ヘ・?】] Or Shen Yuan finally gets the gun that he always deserved.

• Midnight Blooms Peerless Flowers

Shen Yuan is transmigrated into Shen Jiu’s Shizun.

disciple shen yuan ✒️ / child shen yuan 🐥

✒️🐥 • Shen Yuan's School for Unrepentant Assholes

Shen Yuan has been dealt a rough hand at the beginning of his life. Then he gets sort of adopted by Shen Qingqiu, who desperately needs someone to help smooth out his interpersonal relationships. Thankfully, Shen Yuan is awesome at understanding people and what they want! Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he regrets claiming this chaos gremlin as his own or not, but now that Shen Yuan is here, he's never letting him go. He'll have to be pried out of Shen Qingqiu's cold, dead fingers first. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe is just caught up in the wake of both of them and trying not to be dragged under. (Or, a drama of errors with comedic moments, exploring the growing relationship between an unforgiving misanthrope with serious issues and a traumatized kid that just wants to teach him what family means (and maybe learn it, himself))

✒️ • Shen Yuan of No Relation

There is a boy digging a hole.  There should be nothing special about him. He is one of many children digging holes, each and every one eager to get a spot on Cang Qiong Mountain. At a distance, there was black hair and shabby clothes.  Yue Qingyuan could not look away from him. - In a world where they are the same age, Shen Yuan is going to try his very best to become the best friend of his favorite protagonist and prevent the blackening of Luo Binghe! Only, there is a problem. Shen Yuan looks way too much like the scum villain himself, Shen Qingqiu.

✒️ • raised by winter winds

Shen Yuan has had a push-and-pull relationship with Shen Qingqiu for years. Shen Yuan knows that Shen Qingqiu is meant to be a villain, but he knows just as well that many of the things Shen Qingqiu was accused of in Proud Immortal Demon Way were just shitty misunderstandings, and over the years Shen Yuan has become reluctantly fond of his Shizun. Abusing Luo Binghe was not a misunderstanding, though, and Shen Yuan will do whatever he can to correct the fact that he wasn't there to protect Luo Binghe when it happened. -- “Shizun, I already said that I like beasts best - if I can’t raise Luo Binghe to be my shidi, can’t I raise him as my pet instead?”

✒️ • Heart Made of Strings

Shen Yuan was apparently, an average disciple. According to Ning Yingying and some older Shimei’s, everyone had been baffled when Shizun had made him a personal disciple. He was good enough to be an inner disciple but not the best by a long shot, and Shizun only took The Best. He didn’t get into any of the infighting senior disciples normally did for their Shizun’s favor because according to Ning Yingying “Shizun thinks Shen-Shixiong is a lazy brat, and Shixiong doesn’t care what anyone thinks ‘cause he’s always trying to get off the mountain to go hunt monsters like he’s some Bai Zhan Brute.” She had then assured Luo Binghe that he’d love Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe has a sinking feeling in his chest that perhaps, this is the most accurate thing his Shijie has ever said to him.

🐥 • you're not coming home?

Shen Yuan works in the kitchens of Qing Jing Peak. It's not the best, but it's also not the worst. He just wants to lay low and get the hell out when Luo Binghe shows up. Shen Qingqiu has other ideas.

🐥✒️ • Like Real People Do

Waking up in that trash omegaverse novel is the last thing Shen Yuan ever wanted. In fact, if you’d have asked the twenty year old to make a list of his top ten nightmare scenarios this would have been in the top three. As far as he figures he has one way and one way only to survive this before Luo Binghe kills everyone; Run as fast and far as he can and pray to the heavens that the plot never interferes with him! And if that doesn’t work, he can always pledge his loyalty to the future demonic emperor and beg for his forgiveness. (Although Luo Binghe isn’t particularly inclined towards forgiveness towards men.) . . . He needs to get away from Cang Qiong as fast as possible.

✒️🐥 • The Twelfth Flight

Shen Yuan dies and wakes up in the body of a young dragon. He resolves to not deal with that, per Shen Yuan standard and is promptly adopted by the twelve flights of the Cang Qiong Mountain range. There he meets a grumpy but reliable Shen Jiu, and is consistently baffled at how Liu Qingge remains living and breathing. Or; Shen Yuan gains too many uncles and somehow trips his way into emotional maturity.

[idlebeks]

A few more SVSSS recs for the pile

right from the start, I gave you my heart by nex_et_nox

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible."

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.”

"That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you."

Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain—

“A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.

or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

stuffed with fluff (and blood and bones and rage) by nyoomerr

Ever since he was pushed into the Abyss, Luo Binghe has been dreaming of a strange world. In it, Luo Binghe's own face is everywhere, and his story is written out in humiliating detail for some stupid twink to read about. Luo Binghe hates the story, and he hates the dream realm, and he hates the godling within it - Shen Yuan - most of all.

Unfortunately, Luo Binghe can't do anything about it - within these dreams, Luo Binghe is stuck within the body of a doll.

second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox

“All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information.  "Who am I supposed to be?"

Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders.

Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh.

[Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]

or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?

Type Casting by pallas_rose

Shang Qinghua’s fertilizer has unexpected effects on the mushroom body. In addition to... that, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t remember his death. Or anything at all after planting the Sun Moon Dew Mushroom seed in the dirt.

But he doesn’t need to, right? Shen Qingqiu knows PIDW and Luo Bing-ge like the back of his hand. He’ll be fine. He just has to avoid getting noticed—you know what happens to beautiful women in PIDW!

…though would life in the harem be so bad?

says the shadow by tciddaemina

Luo Binghe wakes up to the heavy, suffocating feeling that something is wrong.

His back aches, sleeping on the floor of the woodshed has left him stiff and sore, and yet all the pain and agony of his latest caning fades into inconsequentiality, washed away in the face of the sheer, suffocating, heavy dread pressing down on his shoulders. It steals the oxygen from the air, swelling to fill every inch of the room, the pressure crushing.

His eyes open too quickly, and he scrambles up, heart pounding in his throat, head snapping towards the door of the shed. There's a knot in his throat, thick, and he struggles to swallow around it, throat suddenly dry.

The woodshed looks as it always has. Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

-

Luo Binghe's shizun has a qi deviation and the thing left afterwards isn't Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan's School for Unrepentant Assholes by TGP

Shen Yuan has been dealt a rough hand at the beginning of his life. Then he gets sort of adopted by Shen Qingqiu, who desperately needs someone to help smooth out his interpersonal relationships. Thankfully, Shen Yuan is awesome at understanding people and what they want!

Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he regrets claiming this chaos gremlin as his own or not, but now that Shen Yuan is here, he's never letting him go. He'll have to be pried out of Shen Qingqiu's cold, dead fingers first.

Meanwhile, Luo Binghe is just caught up in the wake of both of them and trying not to be dragged under.

(Or, a drama of errors with comedic moments, exploring the growing relationship between an unforgiving misanthrope with serious issues and a traumatized kid that just wants to teach him what family means (and maybe learn it, himself))

dreaming you the same sun in a different place by JRaylin441

[Activating: Bonus Chapter – In Another Life]

[We notice that you are searching for someone. Would you like to accept the bonus chapter mission In Another Life in order to reunite with User: Shen Yuan, Bound Role: Shen Qingqiu?]

Shen Qingqiu disappears. Luo Binghe isn't going to let that stand.

Written for a Gotcha for Gaza prompt "Luo Binghe sucking Shen Yuan's dick (any dynamic)" from an anonymous prompter

[redjayson]

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible." Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.” "That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you." Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain— “A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.

or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

ella enchanted au for @febuwhump day 4 "obedience"!

[shiratamako]

How about ESTINIEEEEEEEEN (He's the Azure Dragoon!)

Impossible to Love // AO3 Link

1,286 words, Enemies, Hate/Love Set after the DRG lvl 50 Quest Pre-Heavensward

He held nothing but contempt for her within his heart. It kindled his body with intense fervour, driving him to wander the rimed wastelands of Coerthas in constant vigil over Nidhogg and the Dravanian Horde. In his solitary madness, he proved his resolve to Ishgard was true; that Ishgard was in no need of an outsider to be her saviour.

Ishgard did not need Shira. Alberic was a coward and a fool to take her in. The scaled, repulsive creature should have never picked up a lance.

To Estinien, she was the same as any heretic, if not worse. A damnable witch that awakened the Eye of Nidhogg with profane magic to force a second Azure Dragoon into being. Yet, she manifested Haldrath’s armour all the same, channelled his will and his might — in his mind, he determined it to be a grand falsehood.

For Estinien was still standing. If she truly displayed Haldrath’s might, then his life would surely have been forfeit, his body extinguished.

Estinien did not need Shira, even if he hunted her down obsessively. The contempt within him was the force that drove him, that kept his blood burning hot. Nidhogg chose a champion of his own to use against Ishgard — to bring about its downfall.

Today, she would be his quarry. He would claim victory and bury his lance into her chest as the Eye’s true chosen. He tracked her footprints in the fresh snow, even in the sleet. She was close to Whitebrim Front, near the Sea of Clouds.

Today would be the day she died.

Her black armoured figure stood out from the white snow, the Drachen mail’s highly polished surface exuding a wicked shine. The helm of her armour was off, as were her gauntlets. She was crouched down in the snow, her back turned away from him. Shira was doing maintenance on the armour, blissfully unaware of his hateful cathexis as he watched from a distance. She donned the gauntlets again, latches moving to cohere to her form, flush against skin yet showing the protruding spikes that mirrored his own armour.

Look upon the begetter of thine anger and to thy hatred.

A wraithlike voice roused within his mind. Its words coalesced into a singular goal.

Rend her flesh and channel mine power.

She turned her head, her blue eyes wide with false innocence. Her dark hair rustled in the frigid winds, white breath dancing from her lips. As she stood up, her tail swayed and swished with draconic mimicry. The fin-like horns protruding from her head disgusted him. Her cheeks and neck were covered in scales like a horrible blight. He was glad that the armour at least covered most of her body, in similarity to his own as perfect replica. 

He had never laid eyes on a being more ugly and impossible to love.

“Estinien?” Shira beamed at him upon seeing his figure. “It is you! Thank the Twelve,”

She ran up to him with blithe confidence that he was her ally. Estinien remained silent, stony-faced as he observed her underneath the helm of his Drachen armour. As she spoke, all he could fixate on were her pointed canines that gleamed from the cavern of her lips. How did these fangs escape the notice of Alberic? Of the Lord Commander?

All had been charmed. All save him.

She spoke as though he were her friend. “Alberic is still waiting for you. We can return to Camp Dragonhead together—”

“No. Only one of us will remain standing.” He readied his lance, pointing it towards her. “I will dispel your illusion, once and for all!”

He forced her to draw her weapon as he lunged at her with all his might, his aim and lance true. She blocked his blows, nimbly moving with the snow underfoot each step. She avoided his attacks, forcing her to be on the defensive as Estinien felt himself fall into the trance of battle.

“Return to ash!”

A surge of energy swelled through him as he charged to pierce her chest. His power was used against him as he remained open for a counterattack. Shira moved in close, attempting to raze him to the ground with a leg sweep, intending to incapacitate but not kill. He wove out of her attack, sweeping his lance to disarm her. It fell, buried in thick snow.

His victory was assured: he was resolved to kill her. Nidhogg’s enmity consumed him wholly with his one desire. A hand reached out to her throat to grasp it, throwing the other dragoon to the ground with all his hate.

“You are unworthy to wear the Drachen mail!”

He felt his voice was not his own, guttural and hoarse as he screamed at her in his frenzy. She gasped and choked under him, her face contorting with pain as she squirmed to be free. His hands moved on their own, as though gifted with fang and claw to rend and cut. With all his force, he tore apart the front of the Drachen mail, exposing her flesh. He threw the unneeded carapace away, dark fragments falling into the Sea of Clouds.

“I will tear you asunder!”

He gripped his lance, intending to drive it through her stomach, to end her once and for all. Instead of plunging through her flesh, his lance was met with resistance. Blood fell onto the snow, blooming with fresh crimson. Her hand had stopped the point of the lance as the other wrestled to keep it from piercing her. Her teeth grit tight, wincing through the torment he inflicted on her.

“Estinien—please—come to your senses,” she spoke faintly, in between gasps and clenched teeth.

Why did he relish the sight of her pinned underneath him? Why did it stir and mesmerise him so? His breaths grew heavy and ragged, mouth parted and jaw heavy with unquenchable, unspoken need.

“Ah…” Her lips parted for precious air. The way she seemed to sigh roused him. Her eyes met his. He realised this himself when he could see his own face reflected in her pupils. Her cheeks suffused with a rosy flush, her eyes wide with fear and curiosity at the discovery of the face beneath the helm.

He looked away. Estinien could not stare at her strange features any longer. As his bloodlust faded, he looked to where he pointed his spear. Her smooth, creamy white stomach; the alluring valley of muscle tone down her abdominals were in stark contrast with the sharp armour that still surrounded it. He was ilms away from driving it through her, to grant her an ignoble death.

By the Fury, what had he done?

Estinien clambered off her, staggering with grim realisation. As soon as he was off her, Shira sat up, breathing in the sting of the frigid highland air. He gave an awkward grunt, backing away as he felt the heat in his face. The smouldering hatred in him seemed to burn with something new and uncomfortable.

“You— you tore it clean off,” she exclaimed, looking down at her bare stomach as she patted it in disbelief with her unbloodied hand, searching around her to find if there were remnants of his destruction.

He could offer no apology, his voice catching in his throat. Estinien felt himself sweat like a sinner before the Inquisition. Uncertain as to what Shira would do, he readied his legs, tightly wound like a spring. He jumped straight up into the air, leaving the other dragoon behind as he retreated from this terrible meeting.

He needed time and space to reconcile his thoughts.

A lot of time and space — to reconcile if she was truly that ugly and impossible to love.

[bisquicklite]

101 quick prompts: Kiss for Luck

:3 What's got two thumbs and finally found the motivation to answer my asks for the beautiful sexy folks in my ask box?

They were in the middle of saying goodbye- for the second time that day- when Osha was struck with the urge to kiss this handsome, brave, possibly-slightly-mad knight. This in itself wasn't unusual, as she was often struck with spontaneous fancies.

Not necessarily of the romantic inclination, in any case. Not in the past months since her abrupt career change from chocobo jockey to adventurer. Not since she was so abruptly dumped by her last beau.

"Well, hello again!" Osha greeted brightly from her seat on the back of her loyal, but restless, chocobo, Wing-Ding.

She had been heading out to the next leg of her journey when she spotted Lord Haurchefant from across the fort's yard. He had smiled widely at the sight of her and jogged over, and looked full of intention to send her off with yet another fond farewell. The thought that he would be so inclined sent the butterflies in her gut aflutter for the umpteenth time this visit.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Haurchefant greeted once he was close enough. He stood close enough to place a hand on Wing-Ding's neck for some gentle scratches, which did not go unappreciated, and went on with barely veiled disappointment in his pretty blue eyes, "I suppose you'll be making your way to Whitebrim then?"

"Aye, I've already sent Alphy and Cid on ahead. And I would already be on my way, but someone needed to be bribed with treats before she let me put her barding on." Osha said this with false annoyance, patting her mount affectionately. She didn't particularly mind the delay. Had it been up to her, and there weren't currently realm-threatening matters that she needed to attend, she would have happily lingered at Camp Dragonhead.

Coerthas had started to grow on her in the short time she had been there.

Wing-Ding gave a small kweh of indignation, and a small shake of her feathered head, as if to complain about being coerced into roaming the frozen wastelands, and how nice it would be to a more temperate location. Like La Noscea, perhaps, with its many farms growing all sorts of tasty treats, and general lack of ice and snow.

"And I do not blame her one bit!" Harchefant cooed, speaking more to Wing-Ding as he reached out to give the chocobo more thorough scratches up her neck. "If I had to choose between running around in this weather or cozying up in a nice, warm stable, I know exactly where I would like to be!"

Wing-Ding gave a throaty wark in agreement, her head tilting back to enjoy the attention and the fact that someone was talking sensibly. If the chocobo had it her way, she would still be snuggled up in a loaned pen, her rider tucked under her wing, as they often were when they were afield.

But Wing-Ding settled for this delay they were granted, and the affection from the practiced hands from the nice knight her rider had gotten so attached to.

Osha couldn't very well argue, she was far too distracted being enamored with Haurchefant. She had always been a sucker for those who were especially kind to animals, and adored how her chocobo seemed to enjoy the knight's attention as much as she had. How Wing-Ding eventually bowed her head to Haurchefant's eye level, clearly enjoying when he moved to gently rub at her thick sharpened beak, all while the knight cooed about what a lovely, pretty bird she was. Osha adored seeing her chocobo, who she knew to be capable of great violence and bravery in battle, treated so softly. Especially as the bird was often suspicious of anyone but her closest allies.

"You know, Wing-Ding doesn't generally like most folks, but you seem to have won her over in just a few days." Osha said on the back of a chuckle, "If anyone else tried to do that she'd likely take a finger as a warning."

'That' in this case being Haurchefant's fingers loosely clasped in Wing-Dings beak, the chocobo nibbling at the leather of his gloves in a way that could be called 'curious' and 'playful'. He looked back up to Osha, shining a bright smile at her, "Well, then I'm honored to be in her good graces." The knight then leaned in towards her to ask, quietly, "Has she really taken fingers?"

"Well, no," Osha had to hold back her laughter, then leaned closer to whisper as if sharing a secret, "but she does get awfully nibbly."

They shared a chuckle, while Wing-Ding seemed none the wiser to the slander on her good name.

"I suppose I shouldn't keep you further." Haurchefant started, after the moment had a chance to linger. "I fear I've already delayed you long enough."

"Aye, Cid's ship isn't likely to find itself."

Neither of them moved to immediately leave.

It struck Osha suddenly that it was entirely possible that she might never see him again. That her adventures might not take her back to Coerthas. Or, worse, that she would die sometime soon fighting to protect the realm.

Not that she had been doing a very good job of that the last week.

So, obviously, Osha was not going to let an opportunity go to waste.

Perhaps, she mused, it would be just the sort of thing to help turn her luck around.

"Before I go, I wonder if I might ask one more favor?" She started, not allowing the man time to properly respond, but felt encouraged with Haurchefant perked up to full attention. "I'm aware you Ishgardians are a bit... Conservative." Osha tried her best to avoid sounded awkward, or worse, judgemental, "With public displays of affection. But I was hoping I might have a kiss? For luck?"

Harchefant's eyes lit up at the request, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and the knight himself stammered over his response before finding his feet, "I- Oh, of course! Nothing would make me happier than to send you off with such affections! If there were more time, I would shower you with kisses!"

Osha found herself grinning. The knight was terribly endearing, tripping over himself before resuming the flirtatious nature of things that had been established in the days prior. The way he looked at her now, full of affection and a beaming smile, made her stomach flip.

It was an easy feat to maintain her balance and lean far enough to kiss him. The kiss itself was a far too brief press of warm lips, where Osha had a hand leaned against his shoulder, and Haurchefant had a hand cupped her face, worn leather against her windbuffed cheek.

They managed to part without toppling her off her bird. A feat that even impressed Osha with herself, for how she felt she could swoon.

The pair said their goodbyes properly this time. Haurchefant gave an all too flourishing blow that drew a girlish laugh from Osha, and then she was off. Her heart felt lighter than it had in days, and she felt ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.

She didn't realize she was going in the wrong direction for nearly a malm.

shoutout to @raynshyu Thank you for the ask! :D

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 29 Thoughts

Chapter 29 for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group!

First up why did the parents name her Hundred Flowers’ Shame though? I’m inclined to believe they meant it like she puts even a hundred flowers to shame with her beauty. Both the J. F. Jenner and German translation confirm this as well. Given the track record of the novel so far though it was only natural for me to squint a little and stop to think about it for a moment. This is likely a case of things having become a little unclear in translation with the Chinese name probably being very clear in its meaning when you understand the language.

Precious Image Kingdom is called Elephantia in the J. F. Jenner translation, which I find quite hilarious.

This chapter’s creature feature is the scorpaenid. They probably mean scorpaenidae which is a fish! They’re better known as scorpionfish though fishes called Dragonhead also fall under that family!

This is one of these beauties!

However from what I could gather from the Chinese Original with the help of Google Translate and images specifically looking at [鰲魚 Áo yú] it seems to be a mythical fish with the appearance of a dragon, so this was likely the closest translation available.

Yet in the J. F. Jenner translation it is a turtle instead of a fish, which makes for a decently cohesive image as well. And if you only take the character [鰲 Áo] it can refer to a mythological turtle, so this can be seen as a plausible translation as well.

Moving on to some place names, personally I prefer the J. F. Jenner translation here for the Halls and Palaces. They just sound a little too silly for the grandeur they are meant to portrait in the Anthony C. Yu translation.

Hehe, Tang Sanzang is collecting those seals like loyalty stamps on a stamp card. That’s a pretty decent metaphor as to how it works since he gets one in every place with his grand price at the end when he collected them all being the scriptures.

Green hair you say? Why that sounds like an anime character! Also yes, golden eyes, blue face and green hair all checks out in terms of accurate colour translation.

Now the other two translations specify that in the letter she means her two sons are bad, which makes me wonder if she even tried to raise them to be good. Like the father’s influence is undeniable since he probably had a hand in raising them as well, but nobody is born bad and they did also have their mother sooo. I’m just saying. It would understandable if she has a difficult relationship with them given how they came about, but flat out condemning children like this is not okay.

On a lighter note I really hope he actually means a couch looking like a dragon that would be so cool! It probably isn’t, but the mental image of it is still nice! Tang Sanzang should really start mentioning upfront oh yeah, they are demons so they look really scary, but they are good guys so you need not fear them. Just calling them ugly sets incomplete if not false expectations.

[faguscarolinensis]

Physostegia virginiana / Obedient Plant at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 5: stamp

Rita stared down at the hastily written letter without really seeing it. Now that she was finished writing, regret was seeping in like ink.

It really had been a whim; that was the worst part. She hadn’t planned it at all. Hells, Avery Mordeterre was—had been—her enemy, even when all she’d known of him had been red curls and flashing violet eyes across the crowded tavern at Dragonhead. He worked for the Inquisition, who were the biggest bastards she’d met since leaving Gridania, and she’d met an awful lot of bastards since leaving Gridania. The smart thing to do would’ve been to leave him to his fate after the false Inquisitor Guillaume fell, let him slink off to his superiors or die in a ditch somewhere or be questioned by House Haillenarte. It hadn’t been any of her business what happened to Guillaume’s lackeys. Master Alphinaud would probably prefer it continue to not be her business; he was far more politically-minded than she’d ever been.

She was pretty sure real heroes didn’t go saving peoples’ lives on a whim. They had grand gallant reasons to charge in like knights in shining armor, ready to lay down their lives in heroic sacrifice. They didn’t stare down Ser Whatsisname—Drillemont, that was it—and casually point out that, in case the man forgot, her day job was killing primals, so perhaps he wanted to reconsider torturing interrogating an archer whose only real crime had been to believe a heretic who was, after all, a very good liar...? They definitely didn’t feel a smug little thrill at making a seasoned knight with the backing of an entire Ishgardian noble house go all pale and stammery.

Well. She wasn’t very much of a hero, all told. But if saving Master Mordeterre in the first place had been a whim, writing to him now was...something less than that. A blip. A half-formed thought skittering across her mind and out of her mouth before she could stop it. But he’d just been—been so skeptical and huffy and pretty, it had apparently made her reckless. In retrospect, she had the feeling she’d wanted to prove him wrong. He’d thought she and Master Garlond and Master Alphinaud couldn’t survive the Stone Vigil? She’d show him.

And now she had. The furiously-scribbled proof was laying on her desk, signed and dated. All she had to do was send it, and the moogle post would take care of the rest. Give them a name, and they could deliver letters to the bloody New World, never mind the frozen spires of Ishgard’s Holy See.

He’d probably use it for kindling. It wouldn’t surprise her. Again, she considered taking the smart option and saving him the trouble.

But he’d said he would look forward to hearing from her, and she was stupidly optimistic enough to want to believe him.

She folded the paper, stuffed it into the waiting envelope, and reached for the sealing wax.

[sunderedazem]

Soulshards (Ch 4)

Self-Appointed Sibling (Mid-ARR, Coerthas)

Chapter rating: Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Sickfic

Summary:

Coerthas is a cold place, and its clime is cruel to foreigners used to the sunny warmth of southern Eorzea. Especially if they're the type to push too hard and too fast, and burn the candle at both ends, as is the young Scion now grumbling and feverish in one of Camp Dragonhead's sickrooms.

Haurchefant will see them well, however. It's the least he can do - and Count Edmont de Fortemps agrees wholeheartedly.

(Haurchefant POV. Set just before the Stone Vigil)

Ao3 Link!

Start Snippet: There was only so much the poor lad could take, and if what Haurchefant had heard from the young Miqo’te’s erstwhile companions was true, his troubles had begun far earlier than his arrival in Coerthas, unpleasant as it must have seemed at the time. Nay- the grief he must have carried to this point must have finally worn him through. To no surprise, to be sure – the young man had already been all over Coerthas it seemed, rescuing members of House Durendaire, House Haillenarte, and even his own House Fortemps from both heretics and false accusations of heresy. And while Haurchefant had at first only allowed a passing interest and sympathy for the Scions’ pleas to find their missing airship, Corrain’s single-minded drive and soft-smiling dedication to simply making the world he lived in better had entirely stolen away the hearts of those around him. Lord Portelaine and Lord Drillemont of House Durendaire and the young Lord Francel of House Haillenarte, among many others, all now looked upon him with both respect and the warm affections one would afford to a folk hero. And Haurchefant himself found that he should be included in that number, though not unwittingly. Thus endeared, he’d taken it upon himself to provide for the young warrior and his companions now, both as thanks for unmasking Guillaime as a false Inquisitor and heretic to boot, and as- well, a mere expression of his own gratitude for the pleasure of making Corrain’s acquaintance.

[aerialsquid]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Day 15: Portentous

More of the Edmont/Charlemend set from earlier in FFXIVwrite, and obviously once I get the full thing done I'll compile and edit it into a single entity fit for polite company. Wrote this on my phone in my parents' hotel room so idk if this will even make it to the finished product.

"You're right?"

"Eh?"

"I didn't hold up my end of the bargain to my son. You're right. It's just refreshing to hear someone actually admit it."

Carvallain's golden eyes were narrowed at him,waiting for the punchline to drop. 

"Duty is the chain that binds us all. I suppose you'd have heard that often enough, growing up."

"Was on every schoolbook I owned, I believe," said Carvallain, folding his arms.

"The funny thing is, it's not." Edmont held up his hands, as if to demonstrate the lack of bindings on him. "There are no chains. We made them up, as easy as the Holy See made up their lies about the Dravanians, and then we told our children that they were laws as immutable as the movement of the stars."

False chains that kept him tied to a woman he hated and who hated him, that forced him to let her drive away the woman who he *did* love. Forced him to deny the flesh of his flesh as a mere pebble cast to the side of the road. Forced him to wait threescore years to feel the touch of his friend's hand against his body without fear or guilt.

By the Fury, even the end of the war had not felt as sweet as that moment he could finally cast off the mantle of 'Count de Fortemps'.

"The irony was, Haurchefant knew such chains for the fickle things they were. He knew they were applied unevenly, weighing heavily on the lowborne and bastard, weighing light on the powerful. He knew it was all a farce, when your nobility is tied to naught but the luck of what womb you clawed your way out from.

"I have heard from so, so many people who saw an appointment to Camp Dragonhead not as a punishment but a liberation–that because of my son, a cold outpost surrounded by dragons became somewhere far warmer than any hearth in Foundation. So many soldiers and healers who came to shake my hand, as if I had any role in creating what he became. And meanwhile those foul creatures I'd call my peers fell over themselves to tell me that he'd died a hero. He'd died for Ishgard, for the glory of Halone, for…"

He wavered. 

"If you've a mind to spit, it's not *my* floor," Carvallain commented dryly. Edmont eyed the floorboards warily, and then, with great deliberation, leaned over and did so beside the desk. The break in protocol felt deeply satisfying. 

"He didn't do it for them," Edmont finished, after he'd brought his head back up. "Gods help me, I couldn't tell you what was on his mind at that final moment but it wasn't the glory of Ishgard. He died to save a friend, one I would have left out in the cold save for his testimony on their behalf. It was my duty to shield our house from scandal and our city from outside poisons. And had my son not been…not been a better man than his father…"

Breathe, Edmont. You'll find no sympathy for tears under this man's gaze.

"No. I didn't do right by him. And I won't say Charlemend did right by you, that's not my place. Neither of us can take credit for what our sons became. That doesn't mean we can't mourn that which we drove away, through our own failings. The good men we never took the time to know."

[thesilverfullcr]

Rothalion stands up on his tiptoes, reaching up to ever so gently pull him down so he can reach better. Arms wrap loose around his neck, a shy smile upon reddened face as he tilted his head and even so gently kissed Haurchefant upon the lips. The kiss is gentle, uncertain and only a few seconds long, and when he draws back he nervously glances away.

"S...sorry I've just, really wanted to do that..." he whispers.

@draikoeques | toss a kiss to your knight <3

Things had been building between them for a while, Haurchefant would be the first to admit. He had admired the Warrior of Light since he had first come here, a fledgling hero trying to find a missing airship. It had grown during Rothalion's time in Camp Dragonhead, escaping from the false claims against him, and now, as he made himself known in Ishgard.

And so, when Rothalion took things to the next level, Haurchefant was – well, not prepared, exactly, but he wasn't exactly taken aback with shock.

Instead, he kissed back for that brief moment before Rothalion leaned away from him, cheeks pink and eyes looking elsewhere. Or, he tried to, but the kiss was so short that he barely had time to react to it. Then Rothalion apologized, and Haurchefant shook his head.

“Now, now,” he said, giving the other a quiet smile. “No need to apologize when you haven't offended anyone.”

[jefarawol]

Alisaie's warning pulled me out of the false security I had let myself fall into. Unfortunately it was time to face the harsh reality that was my situation. The warriors of Darkness were out there and were planning something. It would be down to Alphinaud and I to reach Xelphatol before they did.

Despite the late hour, we were preparing to leave right away for Dragonhead, you had already prepared an escort for us so that we could be received at the outpost. At first light we would move out. Aymeric wished us well, and I promised to come back as soon as possible. We made a quick stop at the infirmary and found apa watching over Alisaie. He told us not to worry, she was in good hands. Thancred would be back as soon as he had made some calls back to Urianger.

Daughter, you have made your choice? Mended you bond?

You do not disapprove? I chose my mate outside the tribe. When you find the one, you know.

Thank you father. I think that's the first time I've ever heard you both speak your own language?

Forgive us master Alphinaud.

Not at all, perhaps one day you would teach me?

When there is no fighting to be done, now begone both of you. And be careful.

We will apa.

Yes sir!