#Asura Appreciation Week

[system-architect]

BELATED asura appreciation week day 1 - talk about one of your asura ocs! i had a busy week but there's never a bad time to talk about my guys lmfao

gunner is my main character and is also my commander! he has a non-commander au as well but i mostly think about the commander version. don't let his appearance fool you-- he's about 185 years old right now, the mists just kind of pickled him

he's a rata novan who ended up getting hurled into the mists due to uncontained ley energy overloading the portal he was traveling through while trying to escape the chak. after escaping the mists, he got his masters in synergetics, had a brief stint in the inquest researching the mists/eternal alchemy, accidentally blew up a lab after making his collider go supercritical, hid out briefly in the maguuma wastes, and then fled into the fractals to lay low while being a fractal explorer. in commander au, he's eventually caught by the peacemakers and then sort of leashed to zojja (in the same way canach was to anise) and sucked into the personal story timeline from there on

the freak accident w/ the portal left him with permanent physical-magical-spiritual scarring, and on top of turning him into a revenant, it 'blew open' the ley channels within his own body. he's unable to properly regulate his own magical flow and soaks up uncontained magic like a sponge, with his condition worsening over time as more gods and dragons are killed

the extra magic has some perks and is why he's been able to so "easily" hold himself in combat as the commander, buuuut if he isn't careful, he hits critical mass and his body attempts to purge all of the excess magic at once. the magic trying to vacate forcefully is extremely painful and incapacitates him for awhile, and is super dangerous to anyone around him. he usually gets warning signs prior to this happening in the form of vertigo, headaches, and 'auras' (physically seeing ley anomalies and magical flows). the different pieces of tech built into his armor are regulators (built by one of his "coworkers") that are supposed to help slowly diffuse the magic out over time to prevent this. this 'ability' has won him a few fights, but the cost is high.

i think that's all? HERE'S SOME OTHER FUN FACTS ABOUT HIM:

he's trans + gay

he has adhd and tourette's syndrome. both of those get worse the more magic he has in his body (or the more stressed he is lol)

he has ley magic and spectral agony scarring all over the right side of his body

mallyx and shiro are his canon legends, kalla sometimes comes and goes at will

he obtains astralaria during heart of thorns, and he ALSO has a canon nevermore that he gets during icebrood saga

his name is technically gunn but he just plain prefers going by gunner and that's effectually become his name

he had Normal Organs at the start of PS but over time his magical corruption has turned his innards/mouth/teeth a glowy kaiju blue

[gglitchshit]

Asura Appreciation Week 2023 Day 1

Talk about one of your asura OCs! Who are they? What's their deal?

I decided to talk about Gliaster (they/them but any is fine) since they're my most developed asura, AND also my player character! (not Commander, just player character)

Here they are in ~1331 AE:

Who are they? Ex-wife of Joko! What's their deal? Love!

Basically, a necromancer obsessed with necromancy who read about Joko in a book in Divinity's Reach and became obsessed with him too. They travelled to Elona to learn necromancy from him but in the process they also fell head over heels for him. Dated, then married for 10 years, Joko's death shook Gliaster to the core, but instead of taking revenge on the Commander and Aurene, they decided to disappear from the face of earth and write books about him to preserve his memory and knowledge. Many years later, books published with great effort, they're now ready to culminate their expertise as a necromancer and become a lich; however, the power overwhelmed and somewhat corrupted them, causing them to ignore all their past ideals. They're now hellbent on getting revenge on not only the Commander and Aurene but the entire world. Lo and behold! The next supervillain in a never-coming future expansion who causes the next cataclysmic event in Tyria. <3

(This is a very shortened version; if you're interested, you can read more about them on my toyhouse- which I don't want to link because then it won't show up in the tag but yeah. The link is on my blog and pinned post fdjkghdfjk)

@asura-appreciation-corner

[uselessidiotsquad]

Asura Appreciation Week:

A contribution for said week is my newest rat, Trigikk who I haven't had much time to talk about before so I figured now is the time!

All of my Asura are family, brothers or sisters with one another - besides Trigikk. To know more about him we have to talk about the rest of them.

Dhizzi, who is one of the older siblings, was studying techomagical advances and ways of transportation that did not rely on ley energy given that at the time of her research Dragons using the juice from it was still very much a thing. As a result she began looking into opening pocket tears into the Mists and then trying to calculate where one would come out the other side. A way of transportation for soldiers, civs, and everyone else that wasn't at risk from work ending Dragons and a way to dip out should the world go tits up.

However, as part of her research she found her way into various realms but was not able to find her way out. As such, she's decided on making the best of it and is the one responsible for bringing players back from the Mists in areas where the Mist War rages on. Her official, self given, title is no longer Taskmaster Dhizzi, but Psychopomp Dhizzi.

These advances and studies into the Mists were not done by her alone, she had several Krewe members working with her at the time of her disappearance (and presumed death, but really she's alive but stuck in the Mists). One of said members was Trigikk. Unfortunately, not everyone in her Krewe was as sad about her disappearance as he was and when answers were needed, the lead researcher (after Dhizzi) pointed fingers at Trigikk and claimed that he'd purposefully messed up the pocket tear and had resulted in her death. The rest of the Krewe, not wanting to answer to the officials about a disappearance, echoed it and all the blame got funneled to him.

Now wanted for a murder that never happened that he did not commit, he did the only thing that made sense and fled Rata Sum. He has been on the run for nearly 10 years, never staying long in any one place to avoid attention of authorities and of his former Krewe mates who want to scapegoat him.

The Inquest, due to Dhizzi's sister Khenazzi, have also been searching for him. Though they are not opposed to killing, capturing, or torturing their way to find him. His skill set would benefit their causes greatly and this is not lost on him. He's used this knowledge to him him avoid others and is a skilled Revenant.

As a person he generally is quiet, well mannered, and easy to get along with. Much of this is not known as he speaks to others as little as possible and is prone to letting his (rightfully rooted) paranoia take over. Trying to clear his name in past attempts has gotten him closer to being caught or interrogated than it has in explaining anything so he has skirted it altogether.

Alas that if any of my other Asura find him, it's fight on sight. It's hard not to think he's at fault when all the clues are from a Krewe who spent more time into covering their own asses than they did trying to find a solution or answer.

[drakeheart]

Asura Appreciation Week

DAY TWO - Do you have an Inquest OC/how did they get there? @asura-appreciation-corner

Infiltrator Flikk, a terrible little shit and one of my many thieves.

he doesn't actually have much story, i just wanted to make an edgy rat bastard. i imagine he was a lazy ass in whatever college he was in, who would rather steal credit for other asura's projects than make his own, and was good enough at it that the inquest snatched him up and put him in acquisitions. he doesn't really care about all the atrocities, as long as he gets money and attention. (and he's not the subject... but they'd never experiment on their own guy, right?)

besides, he looks great in red.

[awakenedsylvari]

a belated Asura Appreciation Week post!

this is Arcanolinguist Lhille. he started his studies in elemental magic, studying how it related to interconnectedness within the Eternal Alchemy, but got side-tracked into a paper on how different cultures' languages affect the way they perceive their magic

since then, he has broadened his research into all kinds of linguistic phenomena, from the curious way that skritt speech grows in complexity alongside their intelligence, to how sylvari dialect relates to the Krytan spoken in Ventari's time

after all, how do you understand the Eternal Alchemy without the right language to describe it?

[full-of-skritt]

Asura Appreciation Week: Day 4

(as organized by @asura-appreciation-corner)

Day 4: Favorite NPC Asura?

Gorrik!!! Also Blish.

But holy shit Gorrik has grown on me so much since his introduction and I already kinda liked him to begin with.

Please just the mental image of Cixxe and Gorrik info-dumping at each other about bugs and shiny things AND SHINY BUGS is too cute!!

I will draw these two together talking about shiny bugs.

[indigo-montari]

ASURA APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY ONE

Though I have many asura I will go with my necromancer Oamna.

She with her two siblings [older sister Thryxa and younger brother Oajinn] grew up in Rata Sum. Oamna is the more studious of the three and graduated from the collage of synergistics a full year early by presenting a very impressive magi tech project. After graduation she setup a krewe that specializes in consultations. The krewe even got hired to consult with the development of the larger airships used by the pact for the battles of Oar and Maguma.

Currently Oamna is studying canthas jade tech and the possibility of using dragon brand crystals for batteries and enhancements to jade tech devices.

[ratasum]

Asura Appreciation Week - Day 1

Talk about one of your asura OCs! Who are they? What's their Deal™? @asura-appreciation-corner

For this, the first day in our esteemed Appreciate the Rats week, I'd like to present the smuggler queen of Lion's Arch, the harbor shark herself, proprietor of the Hammerhead Salon, Lady Makko (featuring some older but accurate art from the talented @idaidaart I got a while back).

Coming into power not long before the Personal Story began, it didn't take long for a recently recovered Makko to make a name for herself in a city of pirates and brigands. She had watched her old boss, Scrimm, work the smuggling rings for years, making a modest living but never living up to the potential he could've had if he just played his cards a little bit more carefully.

So she took it all away from him.

With a keen mind for business and ruthless efficiency, she stole away her old boss's clients one by one. And though he tried to kill her in vengeance, Makko only came back stronger, sporting an elaborate pair of hand carved basalt golem prostheses and a pistol meant for Scrimm.

Though no one outside the Salon knows what happened to Scrimm - he just vanished one day - Makko knows full well he became food for the sharks that make up so much of her aesthetic. And he became a warning: she wasn't going anywhere.

In the years since, her power has only grown, and though she spent some time out of the city following Scarlet Briar's ill fated attack, she came back tougher than ever.

These days, those with an ornate basalt pin, inlaid with orichalcum and rubies, know exactly where to go to find luxury goods that may be… otherwise more difficult to obtain. A flash of a lapel and a door swung open… welcome to the underground world of Lady Makko. The salon itself is run by her "employees," but the woman herself is never far. The salon deals heavily in "difficult to obtain" luxury goods, and she prides herself on keeping well stocked, working out deals with pirates and smugglers to ensure only the finest items for sale.

Few but her most important patrons and partners have ever seen her face, but those that know her well know her as wary but straight forward… you can always expect a dagger from her in the chest, should you earn it.

[asura-appreciation-corner]

ASURA APPRECIATION WEEK 2023

(repost because i messed up the first one)

Do you love asura? Do you have asura OCs and lore you're itching to talk about? You're in luck - from August 20th to August 26th, we're encouraging you to post about your favorite sharkrats! You can use these prompts or make up your own - just remember to tag this blog @asura-appreciation-corner and tag the post #AsuraAppreciationWeek!

DAY ONE - AUGUST 20th Talk about one of your asura OCs! Who are they? What's their Deal™?

DAY TWO - AUGUST 21st Do you have an Inquest OC? How did they end up in the Inquest? (If you don't, what college did your OC attend?)

DAY THREE - AUGUST 22nd Does your OC have a krewe? What do they specialize in? How do they get along with each other?

DAY FOUR - AUGUST 23rd Who's your favorite NPC asura? Why?

DAY FIVE - AUGUST 24th Do you admire any asura OCS from other people on Tumblr? Give them a shoutout!

DAY SIX - AUGUST 25th Do you have any headcanons about asura as a society? Share them! (If not: What's your favorite canonical fact about asura? What drew you to play them?)

DAY SEVEN - AUGUST 26th Free space! Appreciate your local rat <3

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

6/9 We Appreciate Power

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

If one thing was sure with Simon, it was that he was never quite what he seemed.

It turned out that he was in a relationship for the first time since his twenties. He had a whole bunch of protocols, one of them being that he didn't date, didn't do relationships, didn't get attached. He said it was the usual approach in his line of work, but she didn't quite buy it. Other personnel and some of his teammates had partners, even children. She dared to believe that Simon was breaking his rules for her.

Simon was far more invested in people's lives than he would ever have cared to admit. But even if he appeared to harbor a tendency to protect those who could not do it for themselves, he didn't treat her like she was a helpless damsel. She was sure he would, after The Incident and especially after The Revelation, aka trauma dump. But it only felt like he had gotten more evidence of her toughness, her survival skills.

The more she learned about his past, the more she began to realize that he had a soft spot for the weak and suffering. He made no big deal out of it, but in her eyes, he was a hero for having saved his brother from drug addiction and beating his father close to death for everything he had done. Even the Puranic stories knew that demons needed to be punished, not forgiven; it was their only chance for redemption. To her, Simon was Krishna wrestling down Asuras who tormented innocents. He used his father's curse of anger for good.

And he didn't make her decisions for her. She wondered if things with her were much like with Soap: Simon let them both fuck around while he did the backup from a distance.

And another thing was that you never had a dull moment with Simon. Because one lazy Saturday morning, a week before Christmas, a ghost appeared in her hallway.

"Jesus Christ…!"

She had just brushed her teeth, but when she opened the bathroom door she was met with a huge masked man standing only a few feet away, just in front of her front door.

All the remnants of sleep vanished instantly. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, then slammed against her ribs as she saw the faded skull print on the black balaclava.

"Fuck." Her hand had shot to her chest, and she was sure every hair in her body was standing on end. But of course Simon only found the whole situation entertaining.

"Haven't heard that in a while."

He was dressed differently this time, introducing her to the professional soldier who was, even without the load of war gear, intimidating. She knew that he was a tall man, tall and broad, but now he seemed to shrink the entire hallway. The black cargo pants, waterproof jacket, padded, fingerless gloves and military boots could only be described as tactical — he was drenched in black on black on black, but it didn't make him look any smaller, quite the contrary. The dark brown eyes stared at her from under the skull balaclava with brazen mischief. When she finally caught up with her breath, she began to wonder how on earth Simon had even got here.

"Someone might think you're breaking in."

"Technically, I am."

She peeked at the front door behind him and was ready to scold him for breaking the lock, but there was no sign of any vandalism on it whatsoever. How the hell did this man do all this shit?

"Did someone see you?"

He crossed his hands over his chest like he had just been insulted.

"What do you think."

In a normal situation – if there was a thing called normal with Simon – she would be dangling from his neck by now. But he looked so impressive, so imposing and foreign, that she was suddenly shy.

"Ugh… Why do you have to be so, so…"

His eyes narrowed into a smile as she tried to search for the words.

"So you."

"You wanted to learn how to shoot."

Well, the last time they had spoken on the phone, she had asked him to teach her, but he had refused, saying that she would have to go to a range and receive tuition there like the rest of the folk. But it appeared his ego had gotten the best of him.

Because why else would he appear here like this, looking like a kidnapper, burglar and a commando guy, if it weren't to show off and get another reaction out of her?

"Now? It's raining."

The weather outside wasn't exactly inhibiting. It was just another London day where you couldn't tell if it was misty or rainy. And as if he had heard her thoughts, Simon raised his eyebrow and gave her a look that said Are you fucking kidding me?

"You got two minutes to get changed."

It was a command, and her eyes widened from him just ordering her around. Then she got back to her senses and simply obeyed. While combing through her bedroom closets, she figured Simon was being generous for her sake. Two whole minutes…

December this year was far from a winter wonderland: the weeks had been warm, rainy, and grey. But it was still wintertime, the kind of cold and wet that pushed through layers of clothing. She picked the most durable outdoor clothing she owned, paired it with her only merino base layer, then decided to change her underwear too. Into something more lush, something she had bought just for his sake. Just in case things got heated on the way back home or before they went to have a shower together...

As soon as she rushed back and had gotten her shoes on, he picked her up in a fireman's carry and headed to the door.

"Someone might get the wrong idea," she laughed at the pure audacity of this man as she watched his feet swallow the tiled path that led to the street.

"I can live with that."

"Simon, seriously. Someone might call the police."

"That would certainly be interesting."

She was hauled to a colossal car with darkened windows and tires the size of a mini horse — some kind of a preposterous off-road land cruiser she could never in her life afford. If this was his own car or if it was leased through work, she couldn't tell, but it was precisely like Simon: dark, robust and fierce.

He drove safely enough though; calm and collected, like he was driving a family car to a shopping mall. It was such a delightful little detail that she briefly thought that Simon would make a good father.

After about a 40-minute drive off the city, they reached some abandoned gravel pit in the middle of nowhere. The weather had stayed much the same, but the cold she felt came from finding herself in a completely unfamiliar setting.

She waited demurely as he opened the trunk, unloaded a few gun cases, and then picked up a black tactical vest with pouches filled with ammo. She watched with her mouth dry as he swung it on, adjusted the straps, and looked even more massive with that thing. She was given a set of eye and hearing protection, and then the first case was clicked open. It held some sort of rifle.

"I thought we would use a handgun?"

"Not before you've practiced with long barrels."

Practiced…? Just how hard could pistol shooting be?

He gave the gun to her and told her to get used to its weight. She didn't know whether the safety was on or off or if the gun was even loaded, but she pointed it to the ground as Simon went to set up targets a rather long distance away. She ended up strolling around with her shoulders tense, holding the gun like it was an explosive that could go off any minute.

This was just fucking crazy and she felt like a fool… and Simon was marching back, looking like a whole goddamn war movie.

He took the gun from her, adjusted the sight, and showed her how the bolt action worked. She only now saw that the chamber was empty – of course he wouldn't leave her unattended with a loaded firearm – then watched how he grabbed a magazine that looked like a little box and pushed it in the stock with seasoned motions.

"This is a Browning X-Bolt rifle. Good for hunting both deer and people."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at such hillbilly talk. Simon put the hearing protection on, which was a sign for her to cover her ears as well. He fired only one round to see if everything worked correctly, then gave the gun back to her.

"Remember to squeeze the trigger. Don't yank or pull it."

He then adjusted her stance, which she had briefly tried to imitate from him. He came behind her, and the gun was raised and tucked against her shoulder like she was a child who had to be shown everything by hand. And she guessed she could be compared to an infant when it came to these things.

It was a whole other ordeal to try and memorize everything he said when the hard ridges of his gear pressed against her as he showed her how to hold the rifle. And it certainly wasn't an accident for him to pack his crotch against her too. They hadn't even kissed yet, let alone reveled in the usual, steamy sex that occurred the moment they met after weeks of pining on the phone. He was like the devil himself, pouring that dark, raspy velvet in her ear and knowing perfectly well that he left her aching after every single call. Long distance relationship was a sweet, sweet hell.

"Is that a knife in your pocket?"

She could barely detect the slight tensing of his core as she said it. The shoulders caved in just a little, the hand that was snaked over hers tightened its grip only marginally… So she raised the stakes.

"Or another long barrel?"

"Concentrate."

"It's pretty hard to concentrate with a barrel up my arse."

There was a short silence, and she bit her lip — Simon never let her have the last word, not to talk of teasing him like this without being punished. The hearing protection was lifted just enough for her to catch what he whispered in her ear.

"Should've fucked you before we came 'ere."

Her pussy clenched at that, quite involuntarily, but the dark honey combined with that gruff purr while he was pressed against her was simply too much.

"You would've been all nice 'n' quiet."

Well, it was now obvious that further punishment would ensue after the shooting lesson. Her nipples grew taut, and not from the cold. He gently put the hearing protection back on before taking a few steps back, his warmth leaving her like a cloak she had been deprived of.

She took a deep breath to level her head, then slid her finger on the trigger and braced herself for the kick. It was enough to mess up her aim, but the second time was easier now that she knew what was coming. After the third round, Simon came to show her how to change the empty mag.

"That's it. Good girl."

"For God's sake, Simon, you're not helping."

The third magazine she changed herself, with shaky hands, because shooting had turned out to be both thrilling and nerveracking.

Next up was a submachine gun, during which point she was literally sweating. Everything looked nasty and technical, and she felt like she didn't know shit about anything.

"Ok, now this one you gotta keep steady, or else you'll find yourself shooting at the sky."

He adjusted the grip of her left hand so that instead of cradling the gun in her palm, she bore her thumb over the rail for better control.

"How do I keep it steady?"

"With muscles. I know you got some."

The first few spurts were full of shy stress, but she got used to the feel of it after a while. The first magazine was empty just when she started to have fun. He came to change it, and she did another round, during which Simon gave her curt advice — "don't let the gun control you," "lean into it a bit," "elbows in line," and so on. It was absolutely ridiculous how the clink of bullets on the ground could make her feel like she was Rambo or something. After the third mag, Simon deemed it done, and she almost felt sad to be departed from the gun.

"That went well."

"Yeah. I like this one," she agreed while looking at the black steel like she had just made a new friend.

"You little maniac," he said while giving her an approving once-over. The sexual tension was electrifying, the smell of acrid gunsmoke made her feel exceptionally wild, and she started to understand why people were attracted to these things. She had thought that anyone could fire a gun, but she was wrong. It required practice like any other activity, it demanded both patience and strength.

Some of the expended cartridges had melted the polyester of her jacket in a few spots, one had even burned a tiny hole in the fabric. Simon noticed her surprise as he took the gun to return it to the car.

"Yeah… Burns real nice when they catch some skin. We call them brass kisses."

After the SMG was back in the case, Simon lit a cigarette, and she felt even more timid. Seeing him in this kind of setting, hauling guns around, lifting that mask to have a smoke, dressed like he was going to some special operation, suddenly reversed months of acquaintance. She was out of her element while he was 100 % in it, and the aspects that had made her fall for him were turned up not by a notch but by a stretch.

"Now we get to the pistol. And this ain't no toy. You really gotta pay attention to your form." The cigarette hung from his lips while he emptied the gun, then took a drag like it was just his second nature to fire some shots while having a smoke. The magazine was changed by the same hand that held the empty one like he had done this a thousand times before. Probably because he had.

She would never have thought that this was what she was really into. She had spent years searching for a soulmate in future professors or decent guys who were safe and dull. All of that evaporated into thin air like the smoke from his tobacco.

It felt almost shameful that she found such a stereotypically masculine man not only intriguing but so attractive that she felt weak in the knees. To gawk at the display of muscle and war and dirt and get wet from the smell of gunpowder and his sweat as he came close to show her how the guns worked… It felt like a betrayal. She had always looked down on these people because she had simply thought that wars were stupid and anyone who wanted to be part of such violence was stupid.

But Simon wasn't stupid or simple; he wasn't a jackass with distorted views of honor and ethics. In fact, he was one of the most intelligent, morally sound people she had met. Perhaps a little gloomy and with a twisted sense of humour, but those things only added to his depth. Simon wasn't cannon fodder, nor was he a gun-crazy, trigger-happy recruit who had made reality of most boys' fantasy life. He was a relic of something essentially, fiercely masculine, a man in a world full of boys.

He came to give her another crash course on how to line the sights, take off the slack from the trigger before firing, how to square her stance toward the target. It also seemed that she was gripping every weapon wrong. Whether it was a limp wrist or the wrong spot for grip, he saw it and corrected her on it.

And after firing a few rounds, she understood why they had started with rifles. The pistol shooting was an absolute shitshow. Aiming that small but feisty piece required an extremely delicate yet stern hand.

"See what I mean?" Simon changed another mag for her, and she tried to hide her sulking.

"Yeah. Why would anyone want to use these things?"

"Easier to carry and disguise."

After the second mag was empty, he told her he had been mean and that beginners usually started pistol shooting from 7 yards away. The target she had hit only a handful of times was more than 20 yards away.

"Got one more beauty," he said, went to the car, and came back with a monster. It looked heavy, even in his hands, and for a moment she thought they were about to shoot with a machine gun in the middle of serene countryside.

"What the hell is that…"

"I saved the best for last."

It turned out to be a large caliber rifle with a scope, typically used by snipers — only, this one was larger and more powerful from the usual military use. The silencer at the end of the barrel only increased the outrageous appearance of the weapon.

"Don't look so glum. This should be easy."

She got a nice little setup that included a poly tarp and a tripod for the gun. Shooting prone with a mounted gun gave her the much-needed support, and the scope made her feel that even a person with a Bachelor's degree could do this shit. The recoil didn't scare her this time; she even liked the feel of it when it got absorbed into her body.

"Lookin' good."

And the commentary from the back made her realize that the absorbing thing no doubt meant that more than just her accuracy was on point.

"I'm sure it does," she said mainly to herself while silently happy about Simon unmistakably checking her ass out. The sniper setup was so much fun overall that she asked for extra mags. He only had two, and the session was soon over, and her cheeks were red from both joy and the brisk morning air.

Simon came to crouch beside her, and she turned on the tarpaulin to give him a smile that must've told him just how happy she was. He smiled back with his eyes, which now held a hungry glimmer in them. Yup, he had definitely checked that ass out.

"That's it," he said while removing the protective gear for her.

"Can I join your team now?"

"Sure. You'll make a great mascot."

She fake punched him for that, and he caught her wrist while laughing at her sad tries to pose a threat to someone like him while lying on her back. The next punch was not that playful, even if she was laughing too. It soon turned into a whole wrestling contest until he finally climbed to mount her.

She figured he had bested her and relaxed under the straddle of his thighs, but the greedy look in his eyes only increased.

"C'mon. Fight back a little."

She guessed this was just another need to show off, but she felt reckless enough to indulge him. She caught him slightly off guard by diving an arm around his neck while doing a hip bridge that almost bucked him off to the side, but he quickly drove his other foot to the ground to prevent himself from being toppled.

"You've done Jiu Jitsu?"

"Beginners course, 5 years ago," she answered to the mild surprise in his voice, then tried to push herself out from under him with an escape from the mount that usually worked… at least in a training situation with other beginners. But Simon countered it easily, and she soon found herself being seized in a chokehold from behind while trying to break.

He took her back down with him, even wrapped his legs around hers, performing a perfect rear naked choke on her. She should've known that Simon was adept in martial arts as well.

She was staring at the sky while clutching the steel muscle that forced her to lay her head beside his. It was a pure instinct to reach for his forearm to pull it off, even if he was holding her in place rather than doing an actual choke.

"You're always far more fun than you let on," he whispered in her ear, so close that the fabric pressed on her skin and sent tingles down her spine.

"Glad to be of entertainment even here," she said while trying to maneuver herself out of the choke, to no avail. That bastard even let go with his other hand, quite capable of holding her in place with just one arm while the other began to travel down.

She froze from the heady realization that Simon hadn't spread the tarp just for shooting purposes. It had been laid there for some other action entirely.

The hand forced its way under the waistband of her pants and swept over her underwear, cupped her with no fanfare, just to inspect the state she was in.

"Of course you're wet." The voice was dark, amused, and slightly out of breath as his legs forced her thighs further apart still.

"Of course you're a cock," she said while trying to suppress a moan. Her muscles were already sore, but she didn't want to go back to a warm house, a hot shower, and a soft bed afterward. She wanted him to continue whatever this… exploration was developing into.

He stroked her through the thin fabric she had deliberately chosen to wear today under the all but erotic outdoor apparel, and knew he could feel just how wet she was. All the fight left her, her legs relaxed into the spread they were forced into, and her hips ground against that hand, utterly wanton and shameless. She assumed it was her way of tapping out.

"Fuck…" she cussed the second time today as her head laid back to rest on his shoulder.

"Just say the words and I will."

"I already did."

"Nah… you gotta say it." The grip on her throat tightened a little while he swept a thumb right over the spot that was crying for attention, and her eyes squeezed shut just from the sheer frustration this man aroused in her.

"Please. Just..."

"Yes luv?"

God, he was annoying...

"Fuck me," she submitted like she always did.

"With pleasure." He rolled them both to the side, and she was quite literally manhandled to lie down on her back. She dutifully helped him remove her pants and noticed she wasn't the only one having trouble with restraint. She had never seen a man so enthusiastic about getting her clothes off.

But when he was met with the high-waisted lingerie composed of strings and sheer black lace instead of the plain black knickers she usually wore, there was a pause.

"Fuckin' hell…"

And she could understand the allure of it now: there was something enticing, dizzying, about pale skin covered in nothing but a few thin threads and see-through mesh. Especially when contrasted with a giant male encumbered with magazines of cold metal and dressed in black, rough ripstop. She knew he carried not one, but two knives this time: one on the back of his vest and another strapped to his thigh.

"Don't destroy them, ok?"

He was still looking at the dainty little thing like it was the most fascinating sight he had ever seen. And to think that she had almost left them at the store because it felt foolish and corny to wear something like this just for him to take off.

"Simon? Please."

The dark stare flew briefly to her eyes before darting back to the ridiculous thing that, in her opinion, didn't deserve to be called clothing.

"Since you asked so nicely."

The lace looked even more pitiful in contrast to those reinforced half finger shooting gloves as he reached to take the garment off. The whole scene must've looked like a threatening situation rather than the passionate encounter of two lovers: a giant soldier opening his pants to get his cock out and adjust himself between the legs of a half-naked woman. If anyone from school saw what she was up to this weekend, they would've probably fainted.

And how on earth could it only feel better every single time he slid in?

He did it sluggishly — it was his bravura: to torture her and watch how she gasped and tightened around him. He turned the most basic things into a fantasy, made a simple missionary feel like a holy event.

"Now that's a hungry cunt," he commented with a barely restrained groan. She nearly told him to just shut up for once…but didn't because as always, that talk only made her clamp around him more fiercely.

"Try concentrating on missions with this tight lil' fit on your mind…"

At that, she was speechless, but her fingers curled around the shoulder straps of that stupid tactical vest he wore, the contents of it pressing against her uncomfortably as he slowly filled her. He so rarely rushed, even when the air was filled with so much intensity that there could've been sparks flying from their contact. It was aggravating how patiently he could slide in and out while they were both trembling, while whole worlds were shattering from the insane passion at work here.

Her thighs were already quivering from the stretch and mutual tension and the knowledge that they were doing this in broad daylight under a dull, gray sky, on a tarp that smelled of storage room, gasoline, and lifeless plastic. But even that was nothing compared to the masked man above her. She couldn't feel skin except for the part inside her and the pelvis that brushed her as she so willingly opened up for him after they had fired guns like they were some bloodthirsty, lunatic couple.

And Simon was breaking records every time they met. She felt cold, alive, and so happy that those three words were so close to slipping out this time that it brought her to tears. And he just kept making love to her in this disturbed setting where the sniper rifle was still lying beside them with the safety off, wearing that unbelievable skull print mask that made her want to scream because it was so cringey and hot at the same time.

"Simon," she started, not knowing what she wanted when she already had everything she could ever wish for.

"What can I get ya?" He murmured to her neck, the warm breath hitting her skin through the mask and providing some alleviation to the December cold. The plastic sheet made scrunchy sounds beneath them as he continued to shag her while she was having another breakdown from the love she felt for this man.

"I- Just… a little faster," her whisper rose as a mist in the air as she tried to come up with something other than I love you. He chuffed against her neck in amusement but granted her request, and a few tears escaped.

She was crying while everything was already soaked. The foggy morning and her pussy were equally as wet for Simon to have a nice, refreshing Saturday filled with all the things he enjoyed the most. Her whole body ached, both from the cold and the love.

She nuzzled her way under that mask and finally met precious skin, salty and heavy with the scent she now associated with all things Simon and safety. She kissed his neck like an idol at first, then with more passion, like she was starving for the whole essence of him. He messed up the rhythm of his thrusts for a brief moment, just from that subtle touch of hot breath and wet tongue. And then there came a swallow and a pained sound — almost like a hushed, uneasy sob.

He was suddenly speechless too, there were no commentaries on how good she felt or how well she took him or even that good girl talk. Simon was fucking her on mute for the first time ever, only sighing and grunting as he went. He wouldn't even look at her. But it felt even more sensual, their most sensual fuck yet – that everything just trembled and shuddered and shifted like continental plates.

The build-up was far from hasty and desperate. It grew inside her, layer upon layer of swelling heat and devotion until her whole body went tense. The shaking stopped — but he wouldn't; he completed the job the same way he did everything in life. Confident, meticulous, unwavering.

When she came, he still wouldn't say anything, only hummed against her with a satisfied rumble. It was stupid, how she felt more like a goddess on that tarp than on the bed they usually did this. It felt idiotic how she felt like a goddess at all... But there was no other word really, to describe the sensation of total elevation and surrender that followed from being filled with a man like him. He was supposed to be a simple grunt and turned out to be everything but. He was full of magic, an embodiment of otherworldly power. It made her cry and left her legs shaking.

He allowed himself some mercy only after she had had her pleasure, and the sex became feverish. She dared to roll the mask up just enough to find his lips, and he allowed it, answering her kiss almost violently.

"Fuck I've missed you," he panted in her mouth like it was a confession torn from him by torture, and before she could say anything, he crammed his mouth on hers again. He never showed affection straightforward, and the sudden frankness pierced her heart like a javelin, far heavier than his actual mass bearing down on her.

The love fluttered inside her chest like a painful secret as he prevented her from returning the closeness that bordered on unbearable. He eventually came with a few hearty thrusts and broke the kiss, and the liquified stare behind those half-lidded eyes was a whole nebula of sore adoration. If this was anyone else, she would've deemed that look vulnerable.

He was perfect, and this day was perfect, and she felt a sinking, sweet fear in her stomach from getting everything she wanted and then some more – because it could never, ever last, not in her world of experience. This was simply too good to be true.

His head hung heavy beside hers, then came to rest on the crook between her shoulder and neck like he was in need of a short, cuddly moment. While valiantly supporting himself on his elbows even after the climax, his weight still managed to steal most of the air from her lungs. The magazines, albeit softened by the pouches of that vest, dug into her skin even more painfully. But she didn't care — she even wrapped her legs around him, as far as they would go, to prevent him from ever leaving her. And he didn't withdraw for a good long while. Lately, he wanted to stay inside her for as long as possible, and it was another thing that sent her to the brink of tears.

"That was…" she broke the mist of silence with words and felt him sigh.

"Yeah."

Her hand was halfway under that mask, and she could feel his hot sweat under her palm, the cold British fog licking her fingers. If she would ever catch Alzheimer's when she grew old, this was the memory she would fear losing the most.

"You're one hell of a man, Simon."

"I like you too, Sarah," he chuckled, but she could hear it… The word 'like' had started out as something else, and he corrected it just before it curved to love. The heavy accent made it roll off his tongue like it was just his usual manner of speaking, but it was there.

And if that wasn't evidence enough, he was abruptly tense, having realized he had almost made a mistake. And why would it be a mistake? Because it would've been mortifying to be the first to say it?

She looked at the heavy sky above them and smiled. Insufferable man… he was bold and fearless and hardy but turned into a stubbornly proud man with these kinds of things.

She opened her mouth to be the one with more balls, but he got off her, and the moment was lost somewhere in the folds of that tarp. Her cowboy looked at her with warm, sleepy eyes.

"You look like shit."

In his language, and said with such overly puffed up affection, it meant gorgeous, or magnificent, or beautiful. She could hear in his voice that he was inwardly beaming — like he was looking at a mess he was proud to have wrecked.

"Gotta clean you up when we get back," he chimed, no doubt eager about getting to run his hands all over her slick soapy body after first making a dirty mess of her.

"Enjoying this a little too much, don't you think?"

"Not nearly enough. Put some clothes on before I attack you again."

He was gentleman enough to help her back into her clothed and shoes, laughing when dressing her turned into yet another contest and they nearly stumbled on the tarp all over again. The elegant material of her freshly bought underwear didn't stand a chance against the cum that seeped out of her in a sudden rush. She was definitely in need of a shower.

The trip back was mostly filled with a satisfied silence as a few rays of sun broke from the clouds to shine through the windscreen. It was still early, the day had just begun. They would probably spend the rest of it, hopefully, the whole weekend, at her place — doing good food and sharing silly stories from work and school, sleeping late and misbehaving like two hormone driven teenagers.

"I got you something," Simon spoke when they were nearing the city, offering some sort of a short bladed knife. It had a t-shaped handle, and she intuitively wrapped her fingers around it so that the blade was protruding from between her knuckles as she drew it from the hard nylon fiber sheath.

"Looks… vile," she said while apparently holding it right since Simon didn't correct her on it.

"Push dagger. Very handy in close combat. Would ease my nerves to know you have it when you're, ah…"

"At work?"

"Especially there."

She felt like a psycho when a smile crept up her face from handling such a cruel-looking knife supposedly meant for punching people in the gut or neck.

"Is this legal?"

"Not in the UK."

"Right." Her nerves would not be eased by the knowledge that she was carrying an illegal weapon with her. But she already knew there was no two ways about it. How many times had she walked home from the club in an anxious sweat? And when did all that dread become normal? His gift was actually delightful.

"I can leave you that Glock too. Just keep it somewhere out of sight until we get you a license. It's for emergencies."

She thought about commenting on using it accidentally on a certain guy who had broken into her house this very morning, but then again, she knew she couldn't kill a man like Simon in a million years.

"Sure. Thanks."

Other guys had bought her books and manicures as a gift, taken her to the movies. Someone had even bought her a large TV as a birthday present. Mainly to watch football from it himself.

But Simon… Simon gave her a vicious looking knife and a pistol to protect herself with and fucked her under the sky after teaching her how to shoot with different firearms.

"Look at you all smiles," he observed her with remnants of sultry smoke still coating his voice. She realized she was watching the road with a silly grin on her face.

"You had fun today?"

He tried to appear distant and thick-skinned, but ended up taking care of her safety, went to great lengths to find out what she liked, and always made sure she was pleased. If she had known who she was dealing with from the start, she would've been more polite. But then again, it appeared her nerve was what had caught his interest in the first place.

"Yeah. And I got a lot of presents... Guess I have been a good girl after all."

"Hm. That you have."

The sun shone so brightly that she had to squint her eyes. It was the perfect moment for giving him a gift as well.

"I got something for you too." She reached for the gift that wasn't even wrapped, because she hadn't planned it to go this way, but it was of no importance right now.

Simon remained as solid as always, but the pale eyelashes fluttered in the bright morning light when he saw that she was holding the key to her apartment between them.

"So you don't have to break in."

It wasn't much, it wasn't a massage or a gift card or anything like that. He didn't exactly need it. But it was symbolic, and he accepted it with a solemn, courteous nod that meant more to her than any appreciative words or overly expressed gratitude. He was speechless for the second time today, meaning that his feelings had gotten the best of him.

[estinininininen]

FFIV: Arm in Arm, Hand in Hand, ao3 link, ~2400 words

Rydia has a simple request for Cecil.

He'd do anything for her. She doesn't want to make it weird.

(He makes it weird.)

warning: unbearable cuteness

Cecil and Rosa agreed at once when Rydia asked for a private moment.

"Thanks for seeing me," Rydia said. "I know you're busy all the time."

"It's no problem," Cecil said. "I'd make time for you. Are you hungry? Did you have a good trip?" Taciturn King Cecil only babbled around people he liked. "Surely you must know I'd make time. Surely you know that."

"I know. I believe you. And I'm fine," Rydia said, even as Rosa brought a tray of tea to their table and Cecil jumped up to help her. Rydia stood up on court etiquette but Rosa shooed her back into the chair. "Really, I won't need more than a moment with you, but I wanted to ask you something."

"To ask something in private," Cecil said. "Are you safe? Are you in danger? What do you need?"

"I'm sure she's fine," Rosa said. She had an idea what Rydia might say, but it was important and Rydia should be the one to ask.

"I'm fine," Rydia said. "I'm more than fine."

"Right, right," Cecil said. "You wouldn't let anyone get the drop on you."

Rydia wrinkled her nose like she always did when teasing. "You should know that by now. No one gets past me if I don't want them to."

"Dear, have a little faith in her otherwordly magical abilities," Rosa said.

Cecil held up his hands. "Don't need faith. Seen it myself." He laughed. The stress of being King melted from his face. "I just worry about you, when I'm not looking." His expression blanked, and history for a moment weighed over their little table. Rydia and Rosa understood this was a truth that popped out before Cecil meant it to.

"That's alright," Rydia said. "I worry about you two, too." Then she stopped. Whatever Rydia had to say, she might need a little prompting.

Rosa covered the pause in conversation with pouring the tea. "How is Edge?" she asked.

"Speaking of people I worry about," Cecil said.

Rydia smiled and tucked her head down a little, to hide her glee. It was such a typical movement for a young woman in love that Cecil had to hold his surprise.

"Well. Edge and I. Um. We just got back from visiting the Feymarch," she said.

The Feymarch was a home to Rydia, and to everyone else it was the long-forgotten alien world of sentient monsters of legend. Even though Cecil and Rosa had been, twice, they still felt a thrill of awe when it was mentioned.

"And?" Rosa said. "It . . . went well? Asura and Leviathan are well?" she asked, stumbling and falling back on neutral politeness.

"Oh yes. I wanted to introduce them to Edge again, and for him to spend enough time for them to get to know each other. He managed to spend two whole weeks out of Eblan, got everything prepared and signed off. He gets so much more done when he's motivated. It turned into six months in the Feymarch. I think he really appreciated a long time away from the throne."

"Between us? Can't say I blame him," Cecil said. "And this . . . went alright? Edge in the Feymarch?"

"For half a year?" Rosa said.

"Yeah," Rydia said. When Rydia had started looking dreamy-eyed when talking about Edge, Cecil couldn't say, but it made his heart clench a little at his responsibilities drawing him away from friends. "Yeah, he and I had a wonderful time. I miss them all already," she sighed. "But, it also really is like Asura tried to tell me. I miss the surface, too. I'm glad now she told me to get out of the Feymarch more." She took a sip of her tea. "I don't think I'll be going back for such long periods anymore."

"Oh?" Cecil said. "Not that I'm not afraid when the next time I see you you'll have grown old, but are you sure that's what you want?"

"Mist is also my home," Rydia said. "And Eblan is too, now-"

"Oh," Cecil said, and Rosa thought, Ah.

"-and I've done what I set out to do with the new order of Summoners," Rydia continued. "There's not many, but there are some. My distant cousins, or random chance. They're doing so great, they study everything I tell them, and practice all the time," she said.

"Wait, but do you not still intend to keep them hidden? You don't need to tell us about them," Cecil said. "I still think you shouldn't. For their sake."

"I won't," Rydia said. "And I'm not. But I get to be proud of them, right? Let me brag a little! They're doing all the hard work but I like to think it's because I'm a good teacher, too!"

They all laughed.

She continued. "My point is, Mist is my home but it's not going to be the home of Summoners any longer. We're going to move around, stay separated for a time."

"That's a hard life," Cecil said.

"Not like wanderers," Rydia said. "Just a hidden group, our people in different places around the world. Living ordinary lives, as black mages or white mages. I might even have a Sage on my hand, if they can hold on to the balance. But I will be the only one who knows where all of them are," she said.

Cecil assumed this was what she needed help with. "What do you need? Anything I can give, I will," he said.

"Oh, no," Rydia said. "It's already done. The ninja skills have been of great help. Edge taught them the basics."

Cecil and Rosa glanced at each other. "He did?" Rosa said.

"He knows them?" Cecil said.

"He's the one who suggested all the subterfuge," Rydia said.

"But, he is . . . " A king, Cecil wanted to say.

"Ah," Rydia said. She sighed. "It really is unavoidable, politics."

"No. No," he said. "Not for this. It's too important. Does he understand that no one else can know? If, all the gods forbid, one day Eblan does as Baron did, then a record Edge leaves behind, even accidentally-"

"I don't think that will be a problem," Rydia said. "He doesn't know their names, or where they are. Give us some credit, please."

"Of course, of course," Cecil said. "But-"

"I don't think Eblan and the Summoners are going to be in conflict for a long time, unless Edge is taken off the throne," Rydia said, and shifted in her seat.

Rosa shifted. "Rydia, I know you've spent a lot of time with him, but he will always be the leader of his people before a friend," she said.

"I know. I know that!" She threw up her hands. "Next thing you're going to tell me is he has to marry some day," Rydia said, and avoided looking them in the eye.

"I'm sure that's hard to think about, Rydia," Cecil said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Whatever happens, Rosa and I will be here for you." He looked to Rosa for assistance, who was now being quiet for some reason Cecil couldn't fathom. "It - it might not even change much between you and Edge," he said.

"Well I hope not," Rydia said, "because he's married to me."

Cecil stopped rubbing his thumb over Rydia's scapula.

"What?" he said.

"I married him," she said. Her eyes twinkled and her nose was, very slowly, wrinkling again. "Edge. We got married. We decided in the Feymarch."

Rosa broke into a huge smile.

"Arm Lady and Daddymonster were really patient with him," Rydia said, using her private family nicknames for Asura and Leviathan from when she was a girl. "Daddymonster especially, while Edge figured it out. He was right, he needed time away from court."

Cecil said, "What?"

"Time away from court. To figure out that I am much scarier than Eblan court politics," Rydia said.

"Much scarier," Rosa said.

"No," Cecil said. "I mean, you . . . got married? You married Edge?"

Rosa giggled and stood up to cover his ears, laughing at him. "He needs a moment," she said.

Rydia was giggling now, too. "Why - why is he like this whenever anyone surprises him?"

"It's good news, Cecil," Rosa said, drumming his skull. "Don't think too hard."

"Hey, hey now," he said, grabbing Rosa and pulling her into his lap. "Of course it's good news! Con - Congratulations!" he said.

"Why are you wheezing," Rydia said, now laughing in full.

"I just needed a moment," Cecil said. "Oh, oh. Oh. You're married." He stood up. Rosa squealed in indignation as she was forced to stand up too.

"Cecil, what-"

"You're the Queen of Eblan, now," Cecil said.

Rosa dashed around and grabbed Rydia in a huge hug.

"I feel like - like this is very good but maybe a little bit rushed," Cecil said.

Rosa glared at him from over Rydia's head.

"Are you sure about this?" he said.

Rosa huffed. Rydia said, "Well, I sure hope so, because it's done! Yes, Sir Cecil, I'm sure."

Cecil blushed. Rydia had only ever called him Sir Cecil when first reacquainted as adults and unsure of mortal habits.

"She spent six months with him in the Feymarch," Rosa said. "That's plenty long enough."

"The Eidolons all like him," Rydia said.

"I . . . " Cecil said. "I don't mean about the Eidolons. Eblan has assassins, Rydia. Eblan is assassins."

"That's a negative stereotype, but yes. It is. But I'm not worried about them," Rydia says. "Or the old judgy Judys at court."

"Who knows?" Rosa said. This was what Cecil really wanted to know but couldn't assemble the words for.

"The Lord and Lady of the Feymarch, Edge's personal guard, and his seneschal. And now you two. For now."

"Oh, so we are still important to you," Cecil said.

Rydia and Rosa stared at him.

Cecil clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I didn't mean that," he said. "I didn't mean that. Rydia, I'm sorry, I don't know why I think I have the right-"

"Cecil," Rosa said, and having known Rosa for most of his life and been married to her for five years now, he heard the danger. "Are you jealous?"

Damn women and their damn intuition understanding him before he understood himself.

"No!" he said. "I'm not jealous."

Rydia muttered something under her breath. Unless Cecil's ears were also as muddled as his thoughts were, it very much sounded like, "And there he goes again with the guilt spiral."

"Cecil." The Queen of Baron crossed her arms. "You're upset she didn't tell you they were getting married when they were in the Feymarch," Rosa said.

"No, that's ridiculous! I wouldn't be so petty," he said, and hoped, oh how he hoped, that the political skills he gained as King were going to one day give him the ability to lie.

But not to Rosa. Never Rosa. Just because he wanted to avoid the consequences of his own stupidity right now didn't mean he thought it was a good idea to lie to his wife. She looked in his eyes. "You are," she said.

"That's absurd," Cecil said. I thought I stopped digging my own holes a long time ago. "I - I really don't know where I get the idea I can keep doing this to you, Rydia, but I am so sorry-"

"Keep doing what?" Rydia said.

Rosa stared him down too and Cecil felt almost nauseous.

"Keep doing what, exactly?" Rydia said.

"I - I -"

Rosa saw what he meant, saw him floundering, and finally gave blessed, stinging mercy. She uncrossed her arms and spoke quietly. "We're not your family."

"No," Cecil said. "We're not. I'm sorry."

Rydia looked between both of them, and no matter how hard Cecil told himself she was an adult - she was more than an adult, she had often walked the road between the sands of time and come out closer to Edge's age than Cecil's own -

- he still just saw a little girl peeking out from beneath the covers in Kaipo while he wiped his blade clean of his countrymen's blood.

"You're not?" Rydia said.

Cecil grew even more confused.

"So do you not want to be?" Rydia said.

Cecil and Rosa shared glances. "Huh?" Rosa said.

Rydia said, "I don't know a lot of people personally on the surface still. People that can come to a royal wedding. The Eidolons and my summoner students can't. Isn't it important for someone to give the bride away?"

"I'm confused," Cecil said.

"I am too," Rosa said.

"Oh. We're going to have another wedding," Rydia said. "I got scared and skipped ahead. Sorry. Do you . . . Do you not want to walk me down the aisle?" She tilted her head at Cecil. "It's more of a surface thing, Lord Leviathan already gave his blessing anyway. I thought it wouldn't matter to me but in the Eblan weddings I've been to - oh, oh no, oh Cecil don't cry," Rydia said.

Cecil reared back and touched his face. He was crying? Why had he started crying?

He blinked and was hugging Rydia. He blinked again and was sitting down in the chair sagging like a bag of potatoes. The weird noises coming from his mouth and nose were indecorous for a king of a sovereign nation to make, but wasn't he already among company that didn't care?

"Oh," he heard Rosa saying. "Another wedding. Oh, that makes sense."

"For the benefit of Eblan and everyone else," Rydia said. "Because it really is always about politics, isn't it? He's marrying the Summoners and I'm marrying Eblan."

"Politics," Rosa said. "Sometimes I think Kain had the right idea . . . "

"Is - is he alright?" Rydia said, eyeing Cecil.

"I think he will be, yes," Rosa said, and she squeezed her hand. Cecil realized it was wrapped in his. He squeezed back. "I've . . . never seen him like this, though," Rosa said.

"Cecil, sometimes I can't tell what's going on in your head," Rydia said.

"Oh that's alright," he said, sounding like he had a head cold. "Makes two of us."

"So . . . can you do it?" Rydia said. "Walk me down the aisle?"

Cecil burst into tears again.

"That's happy crying," Rosa said. "Yes. Yes, he will, or I will throw him in the dungeon myself."

"I'm glad I have you to translate," Rydia said.

"Well I - I really don't know what's happening. Cecil, honey, breathe-"

Rydia started giggling. "Oh, no, I've broken him again."

[commander-wame]

☼ - Wame

☾ - Eldrid

☆ - Gixi

years after dreaming up a timeline for the main three i finally made one 👍

+ more context under the cut! anything commander-y in story not mentioned is glued onto Wame

Wame doesn't act on his Slaying a Dragon destiny for a long time. He needs a lot more guidance regaining his strength and working on his social skills than most other saplings before he can leave the Grove. Pale Tree's and Caithe's insistence just leave him feeling more pessimistic about the whole ordeal, he leaves to live in Cathal finding his calling as a ranger training Fern Hounds. His older brother Fehine is teach him in Mender skills.

Pre Personal Story

Wame and Eldrid awoke the same day. Wame first during noon, but his pod was so high up that his first meeting with the ground would've been his last if El hadn't found him slowly bleeding out 12 hours later when she awoke during night. They dreamt of each other, they recognise each other. Wame dreamt of slaying a dragon and saw Eldrid die a firey death. Due to his injuries to his spine and head he ended up Soundless against his will. Eldrid barely remembers anything save for a few glimpses, including Wame's face.

Eldrid is more adventurous and has slowly built a party of friends. Like lots of sylvari, she's obsessed with knighthood and wants to be one herself. She always visits Wame before and after an adventure. She wants a Wyld Hunt of her own, but never gets one. Neither of them admit to romantic feelings, being unable to feel each others emotions due to Wame' soundlessness.

Gixi is having a horrible teenage / young adulthood. School was a terribly rough time and the one college that accepted her booted her out after a few weeks due to 'incompetence'. Slowly cultivating mesmer skills in her spare time, but really wants to be academically succesful like an asura is 'supposed' to be.

Weeks go by and Wame is worried, and finally starts following his Hunt, but only really in hopes of finding El. During his travels he starts appreciating and caring for Tyria more. He's still pretty sure he'll be dead before reaching Zhaitan though. He joins Whispers, thinking their tracking skills and hidden knowledge might help him find El.

Personal Story + Lws1 + Lws2

Eldrid left one day and didn't come back. Unbeknowst to everyone else, her entire party was killed fighting creatures from the Mists. She was sucked into the portal the creatures came from.

Gixi turns out a pretty talented mesmer but still feels useless. Whispers ends up recruiting her, after Tibalts death she ends up becoming Wame's newbie partner. She has 0 confidence in herself. Wame and Gixi become good friends, Gixi gains Some confidence (but not a lot).

With Zhaitan dead, Wame is now fully invested in his, Trahearne's and Caithe's cause. Hasn't lost hope of finding Eldrid yet, but chances of her being alive start feeling more slim.

Gixi is now a very active Whispers agent. Wame is collecting friends (future Dragon's Watch) like pokemon. He doesn't tell them about Eldrid. The lead-up to HoT and its implications has him worrying that Eldrid ended up in the wrong part of the jungle.

Eldrid is ???.

Wame was captured and Mordrem Podded in Tangled Depths. Managed to resist and escape just about, but physically altered halfway through his Mordremisation. Finds his first pet Honeybee (fern hound) dead. Has a terribly hard time convincing Pact members and friends not to kill him on sight.

HoT

Very painful no good time. Gixi was on a crashed airship but survived. Mostly stayed in Verdant Brink scouting out survivors and getting them to camps unnoticed.

Finds a juvenile Smokescale, names her Sparkfly.

Eir's dead. Had to kill Trahearne. Life sucks but we keep trucking for Tyria's sake.

Eldrid meanwhile popped back into Tyria, extremely confused with no memories of what happened in the Mists. All she knows is that she feels angrier than ever and there's creepy voices in her head. It concerns her greatly that they sound like her dead friends, writes this off as grief. She hears about a commander with her dear friend's name, desperately wants to see him again. Follows rumours and murmurs of his presence best she can, but with no way to contact him ends up far behind.

Lws3 + PoF before the Departing

After the events of HoT, Wame 100% thinks Eldrid is long dead. Finds solace in taking care of Aurene's egg and eventually Aurene herself, being the only creature nearby who doesn't have a reference of what he looked like before the jungle, simply looking at him with love and happiness.

Whispers remember El from Wame's description of her. They don't trust her casually popping back into existence just like that and think something's up. Gixi is tasked with tracking and observing her, and if need be to keep her away from Wame if she gets too close. Gixi knows abt Wame's desire to find Eldrid and feels incredibly guilty, but ultimately doesn't fully trust her either.

Eldrid gains a reputation as the Rosewood Knight on her travels. Noble and kind with devastatingly high skill in combat and helping those in need, fighting with a rage and strange new magic people don't want see up close.

While following Eldrid still, Gixi was killed in the desert and promptly got Awakened by Joko's forces. On the grounds of her being asura, she's sent to Rata Primus. She... actually isn't too mad about this. Someone finally thinks she's useful for traditional asura stuff, like portals. It's nice to feel appreciated in the way you've always dreamed of even though you're dead?

PoF after the Departing

Eldrid followed Wame into the desert, FINALLY catches up with him just as he's about to be barbequed by the God of War himself. Heroically gets herself barbequed instead. Wame is now tripple traumatised (Aurene kidnapped + someone he loves who he thought died, now actually dying right in front of him + being horribly burned himself). Oh wow Eldrid dying a firey death in his dream was a prophecy. That Sucks.

Wame wakes up to horrible pain, burn marks, and Eldrid rising from the dead. 1 Tender mutual confession later and they're now dearhearts. Turns out she's still too angry about dying right before properly seeing Wame again and couldn't let that go. Kills God about it (mostly to save people but also out of spite). Wame is stressed about being unable help out, but has to recover manually instead of death-resurrection instantly.

Rytlock keeps his mouth shut about having seen Eldrid in the Mists. He didn't think the rampaging incoherent entity was a person. He awkwardly tries to help her with her new revenant powers she also got in the Mists.

Gixi, after Joko's death, now a free awakened, has a personality freeing and changing breakdown. Fully a mesmer master now that she knows her full abilities and can't get tired because she's a walking corpse. Glamours herself up to look alive. Isn't sure whether she feels happier or acts it.

Lws4

Wame is back on his feet. Eldrid is learning to control her rage and her powers. No time for dates all time for kicking Joko where it hurts.

Bangar shot Wame in the face. Wame lost his eye about, seeing as it was a Dragon Killing Bow and Dragon Killing Arrow. Eldrid, being the only sylvari nearby, tried her best to fix his face while he was recovering. She wasn't very good at it. Wame loses the eye but doesn't mind, just mad at Bangar.

IBS

Wame and Eldrid were having a decently relaxed time getting to know each other again and recovering from the trauma that was. Everything. Before charr civil war broke out. No time for dates again.

Gixi joins everyone in EotN and mostly stays there to help out, fascinated by Aurene and keeping Taimi and Gorrik company. Gixi still glamours herself but finally fully knows who she is. She likes being loud and happy and pranking people where possible. Having lived all her life in anxiety, she now wants to not care about what others think at ALL.

Killing Soo-Won luckily set Eldrid free without needing to kill her, but it nearly got to that point.

EoD

Turns out the voices in Eldrid's head weren't JUST her dead friends and restless spirits. Also the Void! Yippee! She turns into an incoherent powerful corrupted mess (again. but she doesn't remember the Mists). Wame and Gixi are having a no good time trying to not kill Eldrid (who seems the most powerful and clever of those corrupted). She always wanted a powerful destiny, but this isn't what she meant.

After that ordeal it's FINALLY time for some dates.

Eldrid having been the one who died and got better, received the honour of having Peitha in her head. Sometimes Peitha will slip into Wame's mind just to mess with him a bit and freak him out. Eldrid trusts Peitha and they both might feel wlw about it.

SotO

Wame would've liked some more chill time together but they all felt the itch of wanting to do Something. Rumours of strange people and portals sounded like a nice getaway. Ah crap.

Gixi wants IN on being part of a secret wizard society. WHY wasn't she invited. She bonds with Zojja.

[more tba when the story progresses]

[dustxechoes]

@asurastro

...Asura. This is an emergency request from the Rubicon Liberation Front. I'm sorry to interrupt you while you're off duty, but this one couldn't wait.

Arquebus forces, led by one of their elite Vespers and assisted by an independent mercenary, have managed to overrun one of our key strongholds.

...The Wall, has fallen.

We're still reeling from the loss of The STRIDER, and the attack on the Gallia Dam Complex. We're spread thin, and I'm afraid we are unable to mobilize a counterattack at this time. There's...nothing we can do for the people settled there.

...Your objective is to rendezvous with an allied AC already on-site, and clear a path for some key personnel to evacuate.

...Asura. A personal note. I know the last few weeks have been hard on you. You've quickly become a key figure in our movement, and...I appreciate it. We're asking a lot, but...please. Ensure there are no...additional, casualties.

Coral, abide with Rubicon!

[drakeheart]

Asura Appreciation Week

(aka i saw ratposting and wanted in)

DAY ONE: Talk about one of your asura OCs! @asura-appreciation-corner

Juggernaut Havokk, my scrapper/raid main/scrunkly lttle jerk

it all starts with him getting kicked out of college for his "unsuitable temperament" i.e. being a confrontational little bastard with unaddressed anger management issues. after a few years of doing menial grunt work and fending off inquest recruiters, he decides he's fed up with asuran society and takes off on his own.

a few years later, he finds himself in ascalon, where he accidentally gets caught up in a clash between a charr warband and some human separatists. inspired by the action and impressed with the charr's formidable ordnance, he decides to make his way to the black citadel and promptly offers himself up to the legions as an engineer.

unsurprisingly, his offer is scorned and he is turned away, but refusing to be overlooked yet again, he stubbornly settles down amongst the gladia and sets to work learning everything he can about weaponry and war machines. despite still living as an outcast, he thrives among the charr, finally passionate about his work, and even starts developing some custom projects of his own.

eventually, his effort earns him the notice of an iron legion tribune, who grants him special clearance to serve on the warfronts as a siege engineer. it's here that he first meets Amara, my main commander, during her early legion days. later on, he'll join her as a member of the pact and fight alongside her all the way from orr to the maguuma, after which he stays with the pact while she goes off to deal with dragon magic. they reunite again during the fall of kralkatorrik, and once more during the charr civil war.

as far as personality, he's generally cranky and abrasive, with a glare that could knock a minotaur flat. if you can get past his prickly shell, you'd find that he's quite witty, surprisingly talkative, and intensely loyal to those who earn it.

[sytiart]

Asura Appreciation Week - day 7

Free space!

Well, in order to really appreciate our dear sharkrats, i'm holding a free art event!! ➤ Reblog with info about one of your asuras: name, description, behaviour, all you think it's needed, and at least two screenshot/artworks! I'll pick at least 2 entries (depending on my job schedule :''D) and draw an headshot! ➤ I'll pick the ones who inspire me most, even if i acknowledge every asura is special in their own way <3 ➤ You have time to submit your OCs until 29th Aug. 12:00 CEST

You can also propose a friend Asura, it doesn't have to be yours but it must be a OC (no npc). I'm holding a parallel free drawing event on Twitter and Instagram as well, without the asura restriction. You can participate there following the specific rules of the posts but you can be picked only on one platform!

Time's up! Updates coming soon~

[full-of-skritt]

Asura Appreciation Week: Day 5

(as organized by @asura-appreciation-corner)

Day 5: Favorite Asura OCs?

I'm going to use this as an excuse to shout out my partner's lovely rats: Havokk, Flikk, and Lhuan! @drakeheart

Havokk is a good grumpy old man and I adore him and the silly sort of mild antagonism he and Cixxe have. Here's them during the Halloween event a few years ago! Look out, Cixxe!

And here they are today! Look out, Cixxe!

Flikk, aka Infiltrator Flikk, was the inspiration for Cixxe's title, and also he's such a smug asshole, look at that face and tell me you don't want to punch it! He and Kwikk probably occasionally interact as well, being both Inquest. Don't know how well they'd get along lmao.

They look uncannily similar for some reason...lol sameface (also side shoutout to Flakk, who is actually Flikk's twin sister, who belongs to @thesnarkknight)

And IDK much about Lhuan but they have a good aesthetic~