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[ammirabilis]

I am so not normal about that fact that Di Feisheng needed to learn Li Xiangyi’s Yangzhou Man cultivation technique in order to break through the eighth level of Beifeng Baiyang. And Li Lianhua needed to learn Di Feisheng’s Beifeng Baiyang cultivation technique in order to fight the final battle against Shan Gudao 😭😭😭

This is the relationship they could have had ten years ago if the peace treaty had held! They had a chance to discover just how wonderful they could be together but it was cruelly snatched away from them. So much lost time! So much time wasted fighting each other when they were meant to complement each other. Ten years, and an entire lifetime, stolen from them. And by the time they reunite and get their second chance, by the time they’ve finally learned to trust each other and complete each other, it’s too late. Lianhua is dying. They are out of time.

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flower studies of enamel, silver gilt, jade, diamond, and rock crystal, house of fabergé, russia c. 1885-1915.

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The Moon & Art by Théodore Gudin 🌙⭐

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Joan of Arc by jinglin Xu

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Chapter 4

Pairing: Olivia x Fem!Hunter/Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a hunt gone horribly wrong, you're forced to confront the ghosts of your past and a feeling you’ve been too afraid to name.

Genre: Action, romance, angst, hurt/comfort

CW: There is SMUT in this chapter. Minors DNI.

Divider by: @strangergraphics

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 | Also on AO3

The day comes all too soon when Olivia is given the all-clear by Medy and tossed back into the fray. Her re-entry to the field is celebrated by the entire Astrum unit and all the expedition teams alike. No one even questions if she’s ready for it. You don’t either, but it doesn’t stop your chest from tightening when she rides off with a cheerful wave. 

It was just after nightfall when she returned to base, footsteps echoing faintly as she stepped into the outpost. You were already waiting in her tent, pacing a little whilst pretending you needed to hand in a report. The moment she came through the tent’s flap, you turned quickly, holding your breath. Her familiar silhouette fills up the entryway. She didn’t appear to be limping or wincing, and you feel yourself exhale as the weight lifts from your shoulders. 

“You’re back,” you said, and immediately felt embarrassed by how obvious it was that you’d been waiting here all evening. 

Olivia simply gave a smile, and tossed her vambraces in a box to the side of the entrance. “Of course I’d be.”

You were already moving toward her, gaze sweeping over her form in quiet urgency. Her armor was a little dirty but otherwise intact. She didn’t wince when she moved and her shoulders were relaxed. But you still had to be sure. 

When you reached for the clasps of her chestplate without asking, she didn’t stop you. Instead, she stood still and let you work. One by one, you loosened the buckles carefully as if any abrupt movement might hurt her somehow. You watched her face for any flicker of pain, but she only watched you in return, her expression patient and indulgent. 

“You’re staring,” she murmurs, the corner of her mouth curving upward softly. 

“I’m checking for injuries,” you replied, though your voice came out quieter than you intended. 

She tilted her head playfully. “Not anything else?”

You didn’t answer, just unfastened the last buckle and eased the armor away from her shoulders, revealing the soft fabric of her undershirt. No scratches, just a few light bruises. You let out another breath of relief. 

“I’m not going to disappear, you know.” She takes your hands, pulling you closer to her. 

“I know.” Your voice cracked in a way you hated. “That doesn’t mean I’m not scared about it.” You let your fingers trail up the back of her hands, your thumb passing over her wrist, searching for the steady rhythm of her pulse as if you still needed to convince yourself she was really there. 

You hesitated, taking in a deep breath as you looked up into her eyes. In that small space, you finally found a sliver of courage to speak the words that had been heavy on your chest for so long.

“I love you,” you confessed, voice soft but resolute. You’ve never said those three words before, afraid of what they meant and how real everything would become. But it was already real. From the moment you saw her brushing her drenched hair back during the monsoon, your heart had already been hers. 

The words came tumbling out of you like a dam breaking open. “I love you so much, the thought of being without you terrified me. I kept thinking about what would happen if you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of that blast—”

Olivia interrupts you with a shush and you snap your jaw shut, suddenly afraid you’d said something too raw, too intimate. You looked down, heart thudding in your chest. When she didn’t pull away, you looked up at her again. Her expression was unguarded and you saw the same fear you’d been carrying mirrored in her eyes. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, as if the truth had always been there, just waiting to be named. A small breath left her then and she continued. “That’s why I moved, you know. When I saw the charge building, I knew that your armor wouldn’t hold. I was afraid that I would lose you.”

Her words hit something deep inside you, an ache that was both painful yet profoundly beautiful. It all made sense now; the countless SOS flares she had answered for you, the times she stood closer than she needed to, the way her eyes always found you first in the crowd. She would have died for you, and you knew without a doubt that you’d do the same for her. 

It had always been this all along. 

Everything was laid bare now. Not just love, but the terrifying reality of it— that you’d both chosen each other anyway, in spite of the fears and risks that came with.

“I’m still scared,” you admitted.

“I know.” She bent her head, resting her forehead gently against yours. “But I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Then she leaned in and her lips met yours in a kiss that was deliberate and passionate. It spoke in all the words neither of you had dared to say until now. Her mouth was soft, but certain. Every motion held a longing so deep you both burned under it. Olivia had always held you gently, like something cherished. But now, her hands gripped you with intention. Her touch said everything: I’m here. I’m real. This is real. 

The kiss deepened slowly as her fingers threaded into your hair, and yours curled around her waist, drawing her in. When you parted for a breathless second, the sweet sound of your name fell from her lips and you reveled in it. 

“I want you,” you whispered, the truth of it catching on your tongue. “I need you.”

That was all it took.

She kissed you again, slower this time, with a tenderness that stole the breath from your lungs. You melted into her, yielding to the press of her thumb along your jaw and the warm weight of her palm steady at your back. Her presence, solid and real, lit embers under your skin. You had missed this. Missed her — the way her breath grew shallow beneath your touch, how she pulled you in as if this wasn’t close enough.

Her fingers slip beneath your shirt now, lifting it off you with a smooth motion. The roughness of her callused hands met the curve of your spine, sending shivers across your skin. You took your time with each other, undressing in the hush of the tent, wrapped in heat and shadows. There was no danger or looming edge of duty here. Just the slow, searching press of her mouth against yours and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat under your palm.

Then, she eased you down onto the bedroll, settling herself between your thighs. Olivia was radiant above you, bathed in the golden tones of lamplight. Her eyes deep and vivid, held your heated gaze with equal passion. Your hands roamed the expanse of her, tracing muscle and scar alike, desperate to memorize every inch.

“Don’t let go,” you sighed, voice trembling with want. 

“I won’t,” she promised, brushing her lips against the hollow of your throat. “I’m right here.” 

She placed another kiss to your neck before suckling gently, making her way down to your collarbone and chest. Soft red marks bloom against your skin where her lips had been— proof she had been there, proof that you were hers.

When she pressed herself fully against you, the heat surged between your bodies. Your hips met in a slow, sensual grind, her thigh pressed between yours as your hands clutched at her back. You arched into her, gasping when her mouth found your breast. Her tongue circling your nipple before taking it gently between her teeth. She soothed the sting with another languid swirl of her tongue, then moved to the other, lavishing you with a devotion that unraveled you entirely.

You felt like floating, and every nerve in your body pulsed with need. Yet, Olivia’s touch kept you grounded. Each kiss, each stroke, each whispered word of reassurance tethered you to her. She slipped a hand between your thighs, using her knees to spread your legs apart. Her fingers parted your wet folds, coaxing a strangled gasp from the back of your throat. She circled your clit in smooth, steady movements, fingers slick with how ready you were. You gripped her shoulders, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as she handled you.  

And when she finally slid her fingers inside, you moaned, low and broken. She filled you gently, moving in time with your body and relishing in the way her name fell from your lips like a mantra. Then, she curls her fingers just right, and your hips jerked with a pleasure sharp and sudden.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, her mouth returning to yours. 

You tilted your head, chasing her kiss as if to make up for the time you’d lost. Your body arched into hers as she moved, each thrust of her fingers pulling you closer to the edge. You clench around her, arousal dripping down her fingers with how needy you were. She acquiesced when you begged her to go faster, her fingers now so deep inside you that she could cup your sex with her palm, thumb ghosting over your puffy clit. 

Your climax hit like a breaking wave, shattering you from all your thoughts except for her. Your whole body curled around her as you came. Olivia held you through it, and when the trembling passed, she didn’t pull away. She stayed, her hand squeezing the supple flesh of your thigh as your breath synced back into hers.

Olivia shifts slightly, hands moving to lift your hips up and position you as she liked. She was far from done with you, always preferring to completely ravish you before taking her own pleasure. But tonight felt different. Your desire for her ran hot through your veins, and you wanted nothing more than to claim her as yours. You tugged gently at her arm, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I want to mark you too.” You stated, almost shyly. Surprisingly, she moves without hesitation, letting you roll her gently to her back. It made your breath catch, the way she looked at you with such trust. You smiled, taking in the sight of her under you for once— still beautiful, still yours. 

You kissed your way down the freckled slope of her shoulder, letting your lips linger, then your teeth. A wanton sigh slipped past her lips when you sucked lightly at the spot just above her heart, leaving your own mark behind. A love letter written in her skin: You were here too, and you’d never leave. 

She gasped softly beneath you, her fingers curling into the blanket as your lips moved lower. Her skin was flushed, and when you glanced up, her gaze was already on you, steady with affection. You kissed a path down the center of her chest, pausing when your lips reached the jagged scar just below her ribs. It was the one she earned the day she shielded you from the Rey Dau’s blast. The memory still flared in your mind like a tender bruise, and something tightened in your throat.

Your fingers brushed along the edges of the scar as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to it, reverent and full of something deeper than gratitude. You let your lips linger there, then placed another kiss just beside it, and another, until her breath hitched again and her hand came to cradle your jaw.

“You don’t have to—” she began, but her voice caught.

“But I do,” you whispered against her skin. “I want to. Let me take care of you this time.”

For a moment, Olivia doesn’t speak. Her thumb grazed along your cheekbone, and you tilted your face into her palm, kissing the center of it. Then, slowly, she nodded.

“Then take me,” she said, voice low and steady, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m yours.”

Her answer made your heart soar, and your lips returned to her body with renewed purpose. Each kiss was an offering, each touch a devotion, a promise stitched into skin. When you finally reached the place where she needed you the most, you didn’t rush. You kissed her there first, gentle and slow before parting her with your tongue. She gasped, fingers tightening in your hair as you began to move. You licked her in long, deliberate strokes, savoring the taste of her and the way her body responded to every flick and curl of your tongue.

Olivia whispers you praises and you dig your fingers into her hips, hungry to give her more, as she deserved. You teased at her entrance, then pushed in, your nose brushing her clit with each thrust, coaxing more of those breathless sounds from her lips. You moved slowly, purposefully, letting your tongue write everything you still wanted to say: I need you. I love you. I would do this forever if you let me.

Her thighs tightened around your shoulders, trembling slightly as you mouthed at her. You curled your tongue against her warm heat, moaning in satisfaction when her hips rolled up to meet you. When she came, it was with a cry, slightly muffled by the back of her hand. You drank her like a gift, savoring every drop as if it were nectar from the gods. 

Even as she fell back against the pillows, body still quivering from the aftershocks, you didn’t stop. Your mouth pressed firmly against her, spit and slick wet against your chin. Her breaths came in heavy and short bursts, stomach taut with pleasure as you continued to take her higher. 

Only when her trembling ceased to something more languid and relaxed beneath you did you ease your touch. You turned your head, offering a kiss to her inner thigh, then another near the curve of her knee.Your worship trailed in a slow path back up her body— across the other thigh, over the curve of her hip, and the warm plane of her stomach. You followed the contours of her body like a tide drawn endlessly back to shore, back to the only place that felt like home.

And when she reached for you, caging you under her body once more, you were ready to surrender to her completely. 

The night melts away in the heat of your gentle lovemaking, time unraveling at the edges as you lose yourself in her. When morning comes, it feels too soon. Already, you mourn the moment’s passing and the inevitable loss of her warmth against your skin. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety of her arms and head out to face the day. 

As her fingers card through your hair idly, you wished you could stay like this forever— safe and untouched by the uncertain future, just the steady thump of her heartbeat quieting the world outside. Moments like this were always so fleeting in the life of a hunter. How long before the hunt came calling again? What if next time you weren’t so lucky?

“Still thinking, little bird?” Olivia’s voice gently cuts through your thoughts. Her hand trailed from your hair to your chin, tilting your face up to look up at hers. Her tone was light, but beneath it was the same depth that always saw through you. 

In the dim light, her lashes cast delicate shadows along her high cheekbones. She’s always been captivating, but here, beneath all her armor and behind the mantle of Captain Olivia the Guild Ace, there was simply the woman you loved. The one who reserved the most tender parts of herself just for you, who kisses you like you’re the only thing she’s ever been sure of, and who mends all your broken parts without even trying. You felt your heart squeeze at the sight of her. 

“You said before that the dream we walk in is fragile…” you trailed off, voice thin and wet. 

Olivia wraps her arms around you tighter, and you fully sink into her touch. “Yes,” she murmured, “it is fragile. And only through constant betterment of ourselves can we delay its inevitable end.”

Her voice was softer now, more intimate than when she first shared those words with you beneath the plain’s sun-baked sky. Back then, they were words of advice from one hunter to another. Now, they felt like a promise meant only for you. Suddenly, you understand her words with a new clarity. It’s why you keep fighting: to stretch the dream even if just for a little longer, to protect the world you're building together— the one that lets you have this, here, with her. 

And when the next hunt comes, you know that you’re ready to follow her through the fire. Because when the smoke clears, there will still be the two of you, in between heartbeats.

[ammirabilis]

Thinking about Olivia’s back muscle because of that Suja meal cutscene (A Calm Night in Suja)

スージャでみんなして食事をごちそうになるあの場面で、オリヴィアさんがものすごく身軽なかっこうで出てきてびっくりしたハンターさんいっぱいいますよね？　というわけで背筋がちょっと気になる

[ammirabilis]

Vietnamese Bún Riêu

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Source: Instagram

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[ammirabilis]

Chapter 3

Pairing: Olivia x Fem!Hunter/Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a hunt gone horribly wrong, you're forced to confront the ghosts of your past and a feeling you’ve been too afraid to name.

Genre: Action, romance, angst, hurt/comfort

Divider by: @strangergraphics

Part 1, Part 2 | Also on AO3

The sun had already set before you even began to realize it. You sat beside Olivia in the infirmary tent, zoning out as you ran a whetstone across the blade of your carving knife in slow, practiced strokes. The repetitive action soothed you somehow, especially as the sound of metal on stone blended in with your own breathing. You hadn’t planned to stay this long, but you found it more difficult to leave each time.

A subtle rustle of sheets broke through your haze. You paused and glanced at Olivia, your heart already jumping the way it always did at every twitch of her hand or every sigh in her sleep. You didn’t want to get your hopes dashed, so you wrote it off as your imagination. But then, there was another movement: a shift of her shoulder under the blanket, followed by a soft inhale that was deeper and less automatic than before. 

You sat up straighter, leaning in towards her. “Olivia?” 

She stirred again and her eyes fluttered open. They were sluggish as her gaze flickered around the room, scanning shapes and shadows before they landed on you. Her voice came out as a rough whisper. “You’re here?”

You nodded, quickly dropping your items to the floor to hold her hand instead. She didn’t seem entirely present yet but her eyes held onto yours as she came to. 

“Were you hurt?” She asks, simple and straight to the point. 

The question was so absurd, you flinched. She was the one who nearly died, yet she was worried about you? For a moment, anger swells up in you. You wanted to scold her, to ask why she would do such a reckless thing, but you knew Olivia. Always the protector, the first to rush in, always ready to take the fall. It was the mark of a good hunter. It was also the responsibility of a good leader. But she was more than that to you, wasn’t she?

“You shouldn’t worry about me right now,” you say instead, carefully measuring your tone.

She frowns slightly, unwilling to accept your non-answer. “I’m serious. Are you okay?” 

You knew it was her default mode to worry about everyone else first, but her kindness tugs at something within you and your eyes start to water. You wanted to reassure her that you were fine and that you hadn’t been unravelling in slow motion ever since she went down, but Olivia had always been good at spotting lies.

“I thought I lost you,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what to do. You were just lying there—” The words came out disjointed, as if your brain couldn’t keep up with everything you were feeling. “I kept thinking, what was the last thing I ever said to you? And I was so scared, Liv, because what if you never woke up and I never told you that I—”

The words fracture mid-sentence, scattering into silence. You want to tell her more. That it wasn’t just fear, it was her and what she means to you. But the weight of guilt, both old and new, locks it behind your teeth.

Olivia watches you, quiet and steady. She didn’t press you, just waited for you to compose yourself. Her fingers curl gently around yours, warm and comforting. 

You swallowed thickly, shame clawing at your insides. She was still recovering, and you should be taking care of her, not unloading your own trauma. With a sigh, you stood, the chair scraping backward in your haste. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake,” you muttered. 

The excuse was a weak one but she didn't stop you as you slipped out of the tent. The cool air brushed against your skin, carrying the weight of everything still unspoken between you.

You hadn’t spoken about whatever lingered between the two of you since that night in the tent. Olivia had thrown herself into recovery with her usual resolve, eager to get back to work. You pushed your feelings down, buried them under quests and research reports, pretending you weren’t hovering around with baited breath every time she stepped into the training grounds.

The moment you step into the yard, you spot Olivia already there. The sunlight casts a soft glow to her skin, which has regained some of its color. She’s moving through a standard form, hammer gripped with familiar ease. Her posture appears solid and her grip steady. To a casual observer, it might seem effortless, but you know better. Anyone who watched her as closely as you have would catch the slight hesitation in her swing, the way she shifts her weight to favor one side.

Then, she catches sight of you, and her stance sharpens immediately. She straightens a little too fast, trying to hide the wince that follows with a tight breath. You pretend not to notice, like your heart didn’t just drop to your stomach when you saw her steps falter a bit from the strain. 

“Don’t say it,” she calls out, not quite smiling. Her voice carries its usual confidence, but there's a flicker of frustration behind it. You see it in the way she clenches her jaw and the slight furrow in her brow, a subtle indication she wasn’t satisfied with that particular set she just finished.

You shrug. "I wasn’t going to."

She doesn’t say anything else, just picks up the hammer again, intent on seeing the drill through. Another week or so and she’d be cleared for duty again. Olivia would be thrilled of course, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to see her out in the field so soon. Yet, the words stay buried in your chest as you silently watch her. Each swing and every shift of her hips into the rhythm of her hammer felt like old memories coming back to life. You were seeing it over and over. Her weight crashing into you, and the world changing all over again. 

You blink, forcing the images out of your head. Olivia was still there, in all her glorious determination, moving to strike the training dummy again. Her stance is slightly better this time because she knows you’re watching now. It’s her way of reassuring you, even without words.

You stay with her a little longer, fingers wrapped around the water canteen you’d brought. When she takes another brief pause, you step forward and uncork it. She accepts it easily, her fingers brushing yours in a soft, familiar way that still makes your heart flutter. 

“Just don’t overdo it, okay?” you murmur, using your sleeve to gently blot the sweat from the side of her neck. When she leans slightly down so you can pat her forehead too, you can’t help but catch her smile. It reaches her eyes, crinkling around the corners.

“I won’t,” she replies. “Especially not with you looking out for me.”

The campfire has burned down to a low, steady glow. Smoke curls up into the cold night air, carrying the scent of charred wood and wylk. The others have tucked in after dinner, leaving just you and Olivia by the fire. You’re seated next to her, both of you leaning towards each other so your shoulders are touching.

She’s wrapped in a fleece cardigan, fingers curled around a tin mug she hasn’t taken a sip from in ten minutes. Her posture is looser than usual, but not fully relaxed. Her gaze is fixed on the fire, half-lidded, the light casting soft gold across the edges of her face.

You haven’t said much all day, mostly keeping occupied by accompanying Olivia in her recovery activities. The silence gave you time to mull over your feelings, but words still eluded you. 

It’s Olivia who breaks the silence, “You’ve been doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you go silent and stare off like you’re somewhere else entirely. So what is it?” She turns to look straight at you then, and you regard her for a moment. She looks at you like she always does, with fondness and something knowing, like she’s seeing right through you. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“It’s just a memory,” you finally say. “I lost a friend before…a long time ago. And I guess the recent events brought that back to the surface.” 

Olivia hums, a sign of understanding. “Is that why you’ve been a bit of a lone wolf?” She poses it as a question, but you know she’s already figured it out. Back in Suja when she asked you what changes pushed you to come on this expedition, you evaded the question with practiced ease. She never pushed, but she’s been doing this long enough to see the invisible scars you carried. 

“It changed things for me, shifted my perspective. Thought it’d be easier on my own.”

“You’ve challenged yourself then, by coming here. Taking care of Nata, working with Avis unit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“That taking care of a child is hard.”

She laughed at that. It’s a gentle sound, like wind chimes ringing in the air, warding off the anxiety in the pit of your stomach. “But didn’t you find it easier with Alma and Gemma there?” 

Her eyes held a teasing glint, and you understood what she was really trying to say. It had been easier, not just because you had the Avis unit. It was because she was there too, right beside you. For the first time in a while, you felt yourself really smile. 

When she holds out her arm to you, you settle into her side, the warmth of her body grounding you. Even though you don’t move or speak after that, the silence between you feels somehow lighter than before. Not healed nor whole, but less alone. For now, it was enough.

[ammirabilis]

Rachel Eliza Griffiths, from Seeing the Body: Poems; “Name”

[Text ID: “Awake, terrible universe, / awake inside of my blood I could hear it, / the end of the daughter who could bleed / for no good reason.”]

[ammirabilis]

Valentin Yudashkin S/S 2019

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uhh yeah

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Erik Tryggelin - Early winter morning - Skeppsholmen, Stockholm (1939)

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Alucard / Castlevania

[ammirabilis]

Chapter 2

Pairing: Olivia x Fem!Hunter/Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a hunt gone horribly wrong, you're forced to confront the ghosts of your past and a feeling you’ve been too afraid to name.

Genre: Action, romance, angst, hurt/comfort

CW: Canon-typical violence, reader has PTSD

Divider by: @strangergraphics

Part 1 | Also on AO3

There was so much blood. 

The red liquid gushed out of the open wound, soaking through the fabric of the leggings you’d ripped up as makeshift gauze. You packed the wound as best you could but the bleeding wouldn’t stop with anything you tried. Where were the medics? Why were they taking so long?

She didn’t have much time, you could tell by the way she struggled to breathe, wheezing as blood gurgled out of her mouth. You felt helpless at this point. She was starting to choke on the fluids filling her lungs but you didn’t dare to move your hands from her stomach as it was the only thing keeping her insides from falling out. 

“It’s okay. Stay with me, they’ll be here soon.” You whispered, a weak attempt to console her. Your eyes blurred with tears, obstructing your view of her expression for a brief moment. It wasn’t pained anymore, just resigned, utterly exhausted. “Don’t close your eyes,” you begged, unsure if she could even hear you anymore.

She weakly grasped your collar and opened her mouth, attempting to speak. You pressed closer to hear what she had to say but all she could do was moan. You knew it was the end, her brain was shutting down. Her body gasped and shuddered with one final exhale, eyes completely glazing over. She was gone.

You don’t know how long you sat there, holding her guts and blankly staring at the blood beginning to dry on your hands. There was so much of it still. 

There was blood on your hands.

There was blood on your hands and you were shaking. 

“Hunter!” 

There was blood on your hands.

It was still wet.

You were shaking. 

No— you were being shaken, lightly, as if you could snap at any moment. 

Someone was calling your name.

Another shake, firmer this time, and your senses began to knit themselves back together. You were in the Windward Plains and Alma was here too. When had she arrived? You barely registered the warm press of her palm on your shoulder, bringing you back to the present.

“Medy is here, we’ll take Olivia back to base camp,” she paused, searching your face for some kind of indication that you were listening. “Are you okay to continue? Rosso will assist you in finishing the hunt.” Alma’s voice was soft, but the tension threading through it betrayed her worry.

You nodded mechanically, the importance of the unfinished hunt settling on your shoulders. The monster was still out there and knowing that Olivia was counting on you to finish this gave your body permission to move. You stepped aside to let the medic palico work, turning toward Athos with a somber look.

“You should go with them.”

But the felyne shook her head defiantly and darted to your side. “No, I’ll stay with mew. It’s what Livvie would want!” 

A lump formed in your throat at her words. Had Olivia specifically instructed her to stay with you, just in case? Of course she had. It was so like her to be thinking of others first, even when she was the one bleeding on the ground.

You wanted to object, but Rosso’s voice cut through your hesitation, shouting for you to quickly regroup.

“Alright then,” you murmured, tightening your grip on your glaive. “Let’s go.”

Your body moved on its own, slipping into a rhythm forged from repetition and necessity. You launched back into the fray against the Rey Dau, vision narrowed to the curve of your blade, the snap of muscle, the spray of sparks where steel met scale. You didn’t think, you didn’t feel. You just struck again and again, chasing the end of it.

When the Rey Dau finally crashed to the earth, you didn’t stay to carve, didn’t speak to Rosso. You called for your Seikret and mounted without a word, Athos and your palico close behind, the three of you racing back to Olivia.

The camp came into view through the craggy hills, a glow of lanterns and bustling movement against the darkening sky. Your Seikret skidded to a halt outside the infirmary tent, and you were on the ground before it had fully stopped, Athos leaping off behind you.

Alma and Werner were already there, their backs to you, speaking in low, urgent tones to Medy. You caught fragments of the conversation: “fracture... shock... internal bleeding.” The words made you want to vomit.

Werner turned in your direction, his face grim. “She’s stabilized but not out of the woods yet. Word was sent to Erik, he’s on his way.” His fingers clenched around Olivia’s damaged armor, knuckles bone-white. All you could do was stare at it, the scorched ends and bloodstains a cruel reminder of your failures. With a sharp exhale, Werner shoved past you in the direction of his forge.

Athos moved on ahead, but you had frozen at the flap of the tent. For a moment, your legs wouldn’t move. You were braced against the memory of another time: 

Five years ago, in the swampy Marshlands. Jess, crumpled under a Deviljho’s jaw, and a look of terror on her face that you’d never forget. She had been so eager, so young. Too inexperienced for that kind of shit. 

Back then, you were throwing caution to the wind in chase of hunts that could prove your ability to stand with the elite. Jess was your junior by a couple years. She had just wanted to learn, and you let her tag along, thinking you’d be able to handle it. The Deviljho took you both by surprise and by the end of it, Jess returned to camp wrapped in a tarp. You remembered it so clearly— the same sick tang of blood and poultices hung in the air outside her tent as they prepared to send her body home. 

You blinked and the image dissolved, but the taste of it lingered at the back of your throat. That memory haunted you for a long time. You promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again, that you’d go at it alone until you were strong enough to protect others too. Yet here you were again, still failing. 

What’s worse is that this time it was Olivia that you had failed.

You tried to be professional at first, excusing the flutter in your chest whenever she was nearby as nerves or brushing it off as simple admiration for her prowess in the field. But somewhere between shared campfires and thrilling hunts, your walls had cracked. She found her way in, quietly and inevitably, like sunlight filtering through the forest canopy after the Downpour. Now, she meant more to you than anyone ever had. 

This fact alone terrified you, because if you admitted the true depth of what you felt then the stakes become unbearable. In the violent, fragile life of hunters, was love a strength or liability? You didn’t have the answer to this question but you knew that if you lost Olivia, it would ruin you.

A soft nudge at your leg broke your thoughts. Your palico looks up at you with worried eyes. “Come on, meowster, let’s go see her.”

When you finally stepped inside, the sight of Athos curled up by Olivia’s side nearly broke you. She was so still, her freckled skin looked pale and cold. Her arm was bound in layers of gauze, torso wrapped tight, shallow breaths barely lifting her chest. She looked small, and you hated how fragile she seemed beneath the thick canvas blankets. You were used to seeing her tall and strong. Her presence had been a constant by your side throughout this entire expedition— unshakable, relentless, and indomitable. And maybe she still would be, if it weren’t for you. 

You sank to the chair near her cot, laden with guilt. It should be you laying there instead. “She shouldn’t have shielded me.” 

Athos’ paw touched your hand, a small comfort you didn’t deserve. “She made a choice. We all do, out there.”

“Still, I should’ve been more alert. Faster. Something.”

“Livvie’s tough, she’ll bounce back. And when she does, she’ll kick your tail for blaming yourself.”

You let out a bitter noise that might have been a laugh. Maybe Athos should blame you, too.

Beside you, your palico put a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself. Olivia wouldn’t want you to fall apart.” Perhaps he was right, but you were already falling apart. So you simply stayed there, watching the rise and fall of Olivia’s breathing like it was the only thing holding the world together.

The next few days blurred together. You’d lost track of time and the countless hours spent by Olivia’s bedside, consumed with guilt, fear, and whatever harsh hypotheticals your mind conjured up. Barely sleeping or eating, you were irritable.

Alma noticed it first, gently pulling you aside. “You’re a wreck,” she said, giving you a tight hug. “I’ll clear our schedule until your head’s back where it belongs.” 

You initially wanted to fight her on it, but you knew she was right. Instead, you threw yourself into the training grounds. You ran through maneuvers like a mad thing, over and over. If you had shifted left, if you had vaulted faster, if you had taken an extra second to scan the ground. Every misstep became a lesson that you forced yourself to endure until you could barely walk.

Astrum unit closed ranks, like they always did when one of their own was down. The last time it had been so serious was when Athos almost lost her eye.

Erik brewed various salves from rare herbs he foraged and traded for. The concoctions were potent enough to knit flesh, ease fever, and minimize scarring. He spent hours brewing them up, and tended to Olivia’s injuries every day with a reverence you’d only seen in him when handling his most prized specimens. 

Werner holed up in his forge, eyes rimmed red from smoke, hammering new reinforcements into the plates of Olivia’s armor. “Not letting this fail her again,” he muttered, inspecting every inch meticulously. On his weapon rack was Olivia’s trusty hammer, kept neatly polished for her return.

And sweet Athos, who always introduced herself as “Livvie’s companion,” naturally managed logistics with great precision. She brought everyone meals, even you, and nagged Werner to sleep when it got too dark outside. She followed Erik on his foraging runs, kept a schedule, and sat in on meetings. In the evenings, she’d make a fuss about Olivia’s blankets and pillow being just right, then recount the day’s events to her as if giving a formal report.

They didn’t talk much about what happened, but they didn’t need to. Their silence held weight— not of her absence, but of their endurance and how they shouldered every obstacle together.

You were the only one still spinning, wondering if you still deserved to be in her orbit at all.

[ammirabilis]

Archivio J.M. Ribot S/S25 via InkClothing