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the-river-person · 3 years

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Mistral Sans is now Community Shared

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Can I send Asks for more details if I need or want them?: Yes. My askbox is open. I’ll answer what I can. I’ve put everything I can think of on here, but inevitably there’s always something missed in things like this. So ask away.

#mistral sans #community shared oc #undertale au #aeontale #character bio

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twisted-leader-of-something · 4 years

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Ramshackle’s Polarity - My RSA OCs

So, I must say, some things are [N/A] in this Profile because of a reason I willl state. Sorry for any inconvenience!

Elias Winterbottom

Full Name: Elias Faye Rosetta-Winterbottom

Nickname(s): Eli (by many people at RSA)

Twisted from: Eleanor Fay Bloomingbottom [From Godmothered]

Gender: Male

Species: Brounie, a type of Fae

Age: Not Officially Stated due to no one asking, but according to Lilia, he is defiantly younger than Malleus

Birthday: February 2nd

Star Sign: Aquarius

Height: 5′5 or 165.1 cm

Eye Color: Hazel Green

Hair Color: Golden Blonde

Homeland: Plains of Flowerage

Family: Great-grandaunt, Grandfather, Grandmother, Father and Mother, Step Brother [Bruatar/Bindumat Nelson] and Sister In-Law [Alette Nelson], and Twins Nefillings and a Nephew (Status Unknown)

Dorm: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

School Year: Second Year

Class: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Occupation: Fairy Godparent/Student

Club: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Best Subject: Home Economics

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Anything with Watermelon or Watermelon Flavor and Seafood

Least Favorite Food: Anything with Pumpkin or Pumpkin Flavor

Likes: Being Kind to Other People and Set Ways to Do Things

Dislikes: Violence, Mean People and Some Forms of Technology

Hobby: Making Crafts

Sexuality: Aromantic

Unique Magic: ‘Let’s Make Magic Happen!’ - For as long as Elias wishes it, Elias can induce any amount of confidence that he wishes in any animate object he chooses when he simply says the person’s name and “I need you to believe in yourself!”

Talent: Making Others Smile or Uncomfortable

Personality: Elias is often described as a ray of sunshine who often doesn’t understand personal limitations or modern things and is often described as old fashioned by most who meets him, due to his kindness that often get really out of hand and will get him into trouble. Elias also is described as overbearing at times due to his kind nature, and he acts really childish despite being a Fae and older than most people he meets. But, most people that know him agrees that Elias also is super positive to where even in the bleakest of times he still smiles and is sees the positives in life, which is even to a fault. And he also has motherly qualities that are often only come out with very young children. But, despite being a good person, Elias has shown he still has his Fae qualities, like his pettiness. But around Kinsey he is often like a child, trying to please him not matter what it is, no matter the task.

Background: Born and raised in Plains of Flowerage with most of his family nearby him, Elias grew up most of his life surrounded by lots of love and support from a family that for the most part sheltered him from the world due to his sibling, later named Bruatar, that his mother stole when Elias was little for Elias to have a sibling since Elias asked for one that was illegally changed into a Fae and had to be kept from the world in order for the family to not get into trouble with the Fae authorities. Elias had a sheltered, but decent childhood considering the time he was born, that is until his family encountered trouble when Bruatar ran away from home after discovering the truth of where he came from and ran off to find his real family. Which, he later did and for a long time cut off contact with his family and then after years and years of non-contact contacted Elias and had him come into the human world and meeting his family, which Elias was more than happy to have despite being half-Fae half-Changeling and his family not really liking him which he later on discovers from overhearing a conversation and then hasn’t spoken to since. Elias then became inspired to work with all kinds of children, especially human children since he had not interacted with them and went to a school called “The School of Godparenting” to become a Godparent, a type of Fae that watches over a human for most of their lives which Elias found was about to be shut down, but determined to work with human children searched for a child to become a Godfather of, and found Kinsey Wallace and turned the live of Kinsey and his family around and saved the School of Godparenting and then taught there for a while until Kinsey and Paisha managed to get into Royal Sword Academy despite their severe lack of magic to which Elias agreed to give them magic in exchange for spending time at RSA, since he had heard about it being a fancy school and wanted to see what it was like.

Kinsey Wallace

Full Name: Kinsey Wallace

Nickname(s): Kin (By Elias and serval others at RSA)

Twisted from: Mackenzie Walsh [From Godmothered]

Gender: Male

Spices: Human

Age: 17

Birthday: June 27th

Star Sign: Cancer

Height: 5′6′14 or 167.99 cm

Eye Color: Hazel Green

Hair Color: Copper Red

Homeland: Land of Pyroxene

Family: Mother (Status Unknown), Younger Brother, Girlfriend [Joanna Bells] (Deceased), Two Adoptive Sons [Joan and Miri Bells-Wallace]

Dorm: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

School Year: Second Year

Class: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Occupation: Dorm Leader/Part-time Journalist

Club: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Best Subject: Writing

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Donuts

Least Favorite Food: Takeout Foods, mainly Pizza

Likes: Things Clean and Orderly, Things Going His Way.

Dislikes: Parties and Lots of Work to do.

Hobby: Writing

Sexuality: Straight

Unique Magic: [N/A - Kinsey isn’t a Natural Magician, he’s actually an Deal-Bound Magician, so therefore he cannot gain a Unique Magic unless it is given to him by Elias, which is currently banned]

Talent: Either Getting Lots of Work Done or Making A Situation Worse

Personality: According to Paisha, Kinsey was once described as a toxic person to be around due to what stress he was under in a news station job he hated during his junior high school years that affected his life until Elias stepped into his life and became his fairy godfather and made him a better person, but Kinsey still has a pessimistic mindset that will show itself when Kinsey is under enough stress. But for the most part, Kinsey is a mostly optimistic person who despite responsibilities given to him always is smiling and trying to be positive while being realistic at the same time. He is often seen with Elias floating somewhere nearby him with a sigh and a tired expression despite how much respect he has towards Elias from how he speaks.

Background: Born into a stressed household of a single mother within the Land of Pyroxene, Kinsey grew up for the most part decently okay with pessimistic views of the mother due to his mother’s lack of optimism despite his father’s trying to help the situation until his younger brother Paisha was born, to which Kinsey’s father got a divorce soon after due to Kinsey’s mother’s increasing pessimism which was believed to be undiagnosed postnatal depression and unfortunately did not get much custody over the two boys. So, Kinsey spent most of his young life either taking care of his younger brother Paisha or rebelling against his mother by going to lots of parties with shady people which Kinsey said was retaliation for his mother for ‘ruining his life’, which have led many, many mistakes that Kinsey admits he regrets and had enforced Kinsey into becoming a mostly pessimistic and bitter person because of a situation beyond his control with hints of kindness here and there until Kinsey met Joanna, a woman that really changed Kinsey’s point of view due to her optimistic and kind but realistic attitude which Kinsey wanted in himself. Over time, Joanna really changed Kinsey’s point of view on life and taught him many things, and eventually the two started dating and fell madly in love. Which ended after years of fun times, that Kinsey still has good memories of to this day, when Joanna got into a huge car accident that was believed to be caused by gang activity in the area. Which first Kinsey into miserable and often angry person enough to Kinsey back into his old habits until he met Joan and Miri, which where Joanna’s children which Kinsey then promised he’s take care of, because his guilt of the loss of their mother ate at him until he adopted them, which subsequently got him kicked out of his mother’s house because of his mother claiming he got someone pregnant and for a while lived in a long-stay hotel with Joan and Miri and had a job at a news station that quickly made him stressed out due to a terrible boss, lots of work and the stress of wanting to do more with his life with Paisha helping raise the children. It was then Elias stepped into his life, and changed his life by trying to help him out with his life, which worked for Kinsey as well as Paisha, Joan and Miri and fixed the problems the family had and continued to be a presence in the family’s life. Then, Kinsey received a letter to attend Royal Sword Academy due to Kinsey’s hard work during his school years after Elias got his life together, which at first Kinsey wasn’t sure about until he finally met his father again, who was more than alright with contacting him and taking care of Paisha, Joan, and Miri while Kinsey was at RSA. But, Kinsey had another huge problem: He didn’t have enough magic to get into Royal Sword Academy despite being invited, which you’d think is impossible, but it happened. So, Kinsey made a deal for magic with Elias, that as long as Kinsey attended RSA, he’d have magic as long as Elias could attend as well. Later on, Pasha was invited, and Kinsey expanded upon the deal he had with Elias.

Paisha Wallace

Full Name: Paisha Wallace

Nickname(s): Shasa (by Elias and serval others at RSA)

Twisted from: Paula Walsh [From Godmothered]

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Age: 16

Birthday: August 1st

Star Sign: Leo

Height: 5′4′4 or 163.57

Eye Color: Hazel Blue

Hair Color: Light Blonde

Homeland: Land of Pyroxene

Family: Mother (Status Unknown), Father, Older Brother, and Two Nephews

Dorm: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

School Year: First Year

Class: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Occupation: Vice Dorm Leader/Student

Club: [ N/A - Not Enough Information about Royal Sword Academy ]

Best Subject: Modern Application of Magic

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Bagels

Least Favorite Food: Scarps/Wasted Food

Likes: Driving Motor Vehicles, His Father, Brother, and Nephews

Dislikes: Untangling Things, His Mother

Hobby: Being with Domesticated Animals

Sexuality: Pansexual

Unique Magic: [N/A - Like Kinsey, Paisha is not a Natural Magician but a Deal-Bound Magician, so unless Elias gives him a Unique Magic, which is currently banned, he cannot get one]

Talent: Spilling the Tea on a Situation

Personality: Paisha is often the definition of “I legitimately don’t know what’s happening but let’s roll with it” to those around him, despite being a decently intelligent and good person with a good sense of humor or knack for spilling the tea in a situation.

Background: Born into the house of a family in shambles within the land of Pyroxene, Paisha grew up most of his life in a household that wasn’t the best for him, that even he recognized even at a young age. But, despite his mother who wasn’t the most encouraging or greatest to be around, he did learn to be a decent person and to be better than his circumstances thanks to a lot of his friends he had, especially one older mutual friend he knew for a short time he that said he moves a lot. He often was the middle ground between his mother and rebellious brother when the two fought, and often got in trouble on Kinsey’s behalf. Which, didn’t make him bitter towards his brother, it actually made him really depressed, which thankfully didn’t turn into something out of control since his friend caught it early on but he still does have issues with his esteem and how he views himself. For the most part of his life, Paisha was doing alright in life until Kinsey met Joanna, and then Paisha admits his life got better knowing his brother was happier until his brother’s girlfriend died, and Kinsey fell into a deep depression and adopted two sons, Joan and Miri, which then Paisha agreed to take care of happily since he figures it might help his brother out, but in reality it made the family problem worse. That is, until Elias stepped in and changed his life, to which Paisha then decided to keep a positive influence in Kinsey’s life instead of watching from the sidelines and did his best to keep Elias in the family when Elias tried to leave. Later on, Kinsey was invited to Royal Sword Academy and was worried about how the family would live, which Paisha was able to help with when he asked Joan, the closest to Elias, to help out with their situation, which worked out.

#[ character content ]#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc

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thatoneraven · 4 years

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I finished all the info on my boy, so I'm just gonna drop it because I'm an impatient motherfucker. I put a lot of effort into him to try and make him as realistic to the game as possible.

The Taxidermist Rian ‘Kazugra’ O’Byrne Gender: Male Born: June 20, 1997 Age: 24 Nationality: Irish American Realm: Hangman’s Forest Power: Frankenstein’s cure Weapon: Walking stick Movement speed: 115% Power speed: 130% Terror radius: 32 meters Height: Tall DLC: Beauty in Death Special ability Frankenstein’s Cure “A powerful concoction containing poisonous plants such as nightshade and hemlock. It disables the body, but the mind remains awake. For a disease as destructive as humanity, paralyzation is the only cure.” Start the trial with 4 vials. To cure a survivor, press and hold the power button to prepare the syringe. Release the power button to increase movement speed for 10 seconds and rush at the survivor to initiate injection. A successful injection will trigger a timer for the survivor. At the end of the timer, the survivor is immediately put in the dying state and killer instinct reveals their location for 5 seconds. Before the timer ends, survivors can find and inject the remedy at cabinets scattered throughout the map. These cabinets are highlighted in white to the killer and affected survivors. To replenish your stock of vials, interact with a cabinet. Cured survivors suffer from the following afflictions: - Hindered effect - Exhaustion effect - Illusionary terror radius Perks Shadow kin You feel a sense of kinship with the crows of the realm. In your time of need, they offer you their eyes. All survivors within 5/8/12 meters of a crow will have their aura revealed for 5 seconds. Shadow kin has a cool down of 1 minute. Stirred Mulch The lessons of the forest stick with you. Listen to nature, and she will guide you. Disturbances in the environment are significantly more noticeable. Scratch marks made by survivors last 1/3/5 seconds longer. Sounds made by running survivors are amplified. Formaldehyde You crave the perfect specimen. You become obsessed with one survivor. Every time your obsession is healed within a 48 meter radius of you, you gain a token. You can gain up to 4 tokens. Each token decreases your terror radius by 3/5/8 meters. If the obsession is sacrificed or killed, all tokens are lost. Lore Rian O’Byrne was born in Ireland in 1997. At the age of 3, his family moved to America in the hopes of achieving a better life. They started a new life in Detroit, Michigan, but quickly fell into poverty after the chaos of 9/11. Growing up poor in a world where he had to live in constant fear deeply scarred his psyche. He was labeled as an old soul, always isolating himself from his peers and opting to read a book rather than play. With his childish innocence ripped away too soon, he watched with bare eyes as humans destroyed the world. He learned hatred, rage, and vengeance as those around him began treating him differently, separate from the rest of the population. He fell to self harm, finding comfort in the punishment of his human body. As if taking pity on him, nature left a gift in his path. Rian, at the age of 12, found an injured crow on the back steps of his house. He had a soft spot for animals, so he took the crow in and attempted to heal it. The crow lasted a few minutes, but ended up taking its last breath in his hands. He handled it the way he handled everything that upset him, he turned to his creativity to right the situation. He made it his mission to keep the bird’s beauty alive in death. With the help of the internet, he learned how to take apart the bird and salvage its parts. He took its skull and painted it to represent the night sky. In the basement closet, he set up a small shrine for the bird. Its skull rested in a bed of black feathers, surrounded by a crown of smaller bones and dried flowers. As if nature had appointed him a purpose, Rian started finding dead animals wherever he went. They started off small: birds and rodents. He would take them home and perform the same ritual of taking their bones and painting them. Eventually, the animals started getting larger, harder to hide. He managed to salvage a roadkill cat at one point, almost getting caught by his parents who arrived home sooner than expected. He’d started taking walks in the forest nearby, occasionally finding shed antlers to add to his work. After returning from one of his night walks, he found his parents in the basement inspecting a sickly sweet smell. In a panic, Rian ran upstairs and packed a bag with his things and ran away from home at the age of 16. With what little money he had, he managed to make it to a small town in the upper peninsula. A local farmer found him dehydrated and starving on the side of the road, and decided to take him in. They arranged a deal. Rian would work for them, and they would help him get back on his feet. He would wake up early everyday to work tirelessly on the farm, and would turn in early at night to work on preserving animals he found nearby. Out of fear, he kept these shrines out in the forest. He would often come back to find them ruined. This frustrated him, so when he managed to save up enough, he got a small apartment in the heart of the town. He continued to work on the farm in his free time, but with his own space, he was able to keep a safe workspace. He managed to get a job as a vet technician, giving him a better source of income. With this money, he was able to get better supplies for his work. He learned how to preserve flesh and make leather from leftover skin. Bigger subjects became easier to deal with now that he actually had the tools for working with them. His home became a graveyard of sorts, a place to remember the unfortunate victims of humanity. He lived in peace for 2 years, but as he already knew, good things don’t last. A man broke into his house late one night while he was working on a deer skull, holding him at knife point while he threatened him. Rian, strengthened by years of work on the farm, overpowered the man and turned his knife on him. All the rage and hatred he had held over the years came spilling out when the man insulted his work. Rian slit his throat, watching with disinterest as the life faded from his eyes. It was similar to the animals he worked with, but this time, he felt no sympathy, no urge to preserve him. He wanted to tear him apart and put him back together to represent the monster he really was. Rian locked himself away in his room for weeks on end, feigning sickness so he could work on his new project. After 4 weeks of work, Rian took the complete work and hung it in a tree in the surrounding forest where he knew someone would find it. The man was completely unrecognizable. His skin had been removed, dried muscles exposed and decorated with shards of glass. His limbs had been amputated and sewn back on with wire; his wrists ended in stumps, hands relocated to cover his empty eye sockets. His jaw hung low, black tongue flopping uselessly in the tooth empty mouth. His teeth stood out in a crown around his exposed brain, accompanied by shards of glass. His genitals had been burned off, and his gut had been ripped open and emptied, leaving only a dried heart hanging in the empty space. A week later, his work hit the newspapers. People began panicking; there had never been a killer in that town, let alone one that gruesome. Rian reveled in the fame, the power, the fact that he had finally gotten rid of one of the things ruining the world. He grew addicted to the feeling, and started watching people to find his next victim. With the leather he harvested from his last victim, he made a mask roughly resembling a crow. He became obsessed with the idea of plague doctors; he wanted to embody an inhuman doctor, here to cure humanity of its filth. From this sparked his new identity: Kazugra. He was no longer human, he was a vengeful spirit come back from the dead to enact vengeance. His next victim was a pedophile who he managed to drag into the forest. He ended up tied to the trunk of a tree along a hiking trail. He made headlines all month. After his third victim, Rian realized it was too dangerous to stay in the heart of the town. With what he had saved up, he moved to a cabin in the woods nearby. When he would go into town for work and other tasks, he would keep an eye out for future victims. Mangled bodies began to show up more frequently in the trees. People dubbed him “the modern Frankenstein” for his monstrous creations. The surrounding forest became the “Hangman’s forest.” To make matters easier for himself, Rian started learning how to create mixtures of deadly plants to take out his victims. He started a small garden of nightshade and hemlock, favoring those plants for their ability to paralyze his victims. At first, the mixture was too strong, resulting in his victims dying swiftly. Though, with some adjustments, he was able to get the perfect solution, capable of disabling them while leaving them awake. The police were struggling to identify the killer, as Rian was meticulous in his care to leave no clues. The bodies continued to pile up, and news of his work began to spread throughout the U.S. With the leather he had harvested from his victims, he made a new mask. One to represent his true self. During a particularly rough kill one night, a person managed to capture a picture of him with his mask on. The picture spread like wildfire, and he became a controversial subject online. At the age of 24, the police finally caught a trace of the man behind the murders. They found a single strand of red hair crusted to her dried flesh. Immediately, they tracked him down and pinpointed his location. As soon as Rian heard the vehicles outside his home, he fled into the forest. The forest seemed to whisper to him, telling him how to get away. A crow descended from the trees, staring at him with burning orange eyes. The whispers told him to follow it, so he did. The forest grew foggier and darker, until Rian was swallowed into the night. The modern Frankenstein was never found.

#DBD #Dead by Daylight #DBD oc #DBD oc killer #Slasher #Slasher oc #DBD Taxidermist #DBD Rian #DBD Kazugra #The Taxidermist #Rian O’Byrne #Rian “Kazugra” O’Byrne #Kazugra

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thepandapopo · 4 years

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Absolute Truths

This idea wormed its way into my head and for the life of me I couldn’t get it out.

This oneshot is a little longer than the stuff I usually write (a whopping 8539 words), but I loved every minute of it. I tried editing it to the best of my ability, but honestly I suck at that. No beta, we die like Glenn. #SorryNotSorry #TooSoon ?

Please note this is non canon. The time frame for this is sometime after the Battle of Gronder post time skip and it is a mash up of the GD and BL routes (ie. Dimitri joins Claude and is no longer crazy; Rodrigue still dies. RIP).

Cross posted to ao3.

Pairing: Sylvain x Felix

Warnings: mentions of child abuse and PTSD

Synopsis:

When Felix and Sylvain get hit with a dark magic spell that reverts them back to children, the Resistance Army gets a deeper look into their bond and learn 5 absolute truths that form the foundation of their relationship.

5 undeniable facts of Sylvain and Felix’s relationship.

Word Count: 8539

“Felix!”

Fuck. Sylvain loses sight of him for only a minute but that is all the enemy needs to overwhelm the already bombarded swordmaster.

Pulling the reigns sharply to the left, the Paladin charges across the battlefield, skewering any unfortunate enemies that dare block his way, the lance of ruin glowing like a beacon of fury despite the thick coating of blood on it. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and dark magic, making it hard to breathe and blurring the red head’s vision. Regardless, Sylvain presses on; determined to get to his best friend in time before the group of mages over the hill finish casting… whatever ominous looking spell they are aiming at Felix.

“Sylvain, get out of here!” Felix shouts angrily, not even pausing his fighting to face the sight of Bella charging her way through the throng with her master astride her.

Shit. Felix cuts down another enemy.

It is never ending. No matter how many falls to his blade, another two enemies take their place. Felix isn’t stupid – he can see the group of mages prepping a dark magic spell in the distance, which makes him even angrier when he spots Sylvain riding to his aid.

Like hell he’ll give his childhood friend another reason to toss himself into harms way. Felix isn’t weak. He doesn’t need protection. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Sylvain to be the one who gets hurt trying to fix his mistakes just because he got a little too cocky and split from the rest of his battalion.

“Fuck.” Felix grunts and pushes his sword hard to disengage the thief that has him in a sword lock. He doesn’t bother to see if he is being pursued and dashes towards Sylvain who is now dismounting a short distance away, Lance of Ruin making quick work of anyone who strays too close for comfort.

Sylvain was undoubtedly within hit range of the spell now. If that idiot insists on being his usual self-sacrificing self, then the least Felix can do is use his own body to shield the older man and take the brunt of the damage.

The tell-tale crackle of magic behind him sets the hair on his nape standing.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

He isn’t going to make it. Damn Sylvain for being so slow – this is exactly why he keeps telling him to take his training more seriously-!

“Fe!”

The last thing he knows before succumbing to the darkness is a hard chest plate knocking the wind out of him and warm, strong arms that remind him of summers spent with a heart lighter than air.

----

1. Sylvain always has, and always will protect Felix until the day he dies.

Leonie is one of two on the first shift of babysitting duty.

Undeniably, the orange haired paladin would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the greatest with kids, however there is only so much the tiny, and thankfully unconscious, Fraldarius boy can do given his current predicament.

No one really knows what happened after the enemy spell envelops Felix and Sylvain, the larger of the two curled protectively around his companion as they fall. No one even knows what the spell is.

But what they do know is that now, instead of a regular sized Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Sylvain Jose Gautier, they have a chubby cheeked blue haired cherub and an unfairly-cute-even-as-a-child ginger.

It is in the middle of bemoaning her poor luck at drawing straws when the mini-Felix begins to stir and she feels panic clawing its way up her throat.

“Ngghh…” small, unscarred hands balled into fist come up to rub at bleary amber eyes before they widen almost comically as they take in his surroundings.

“Uhh… hey.” His gaze snaps towards Leonie and she can feel her terror rising with mini Felix’s hysteria, clearly evident by the shiny glaze beginning to cloud his eyes and the fat crocodile tears gathering at the edges of his almond eyes.

“It’s okay, Felix. It’s just me.” She reaches out a hand tentatively in a placating gesture, but quickly withdraws back as young Felix lets out a squeak and scurries as far back into the corner of the bed as he can get, taking his older self’s wool Fraldarius crest blanket with him, as if it could shield him.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” The poor thing is absolutely terrified and damn it, Leonie wants to comfort him, but she is equally as distressed here and this is exactly why she didn’t want to babysit.

“It’s me, Leonie. You don’t… you don’t recognize me?”

It comes out sounding more like a statement than a question.

It’s so painfully obvious that little Felix has no idea who she is.

Which means he doesn’t have his memories.

Which means they are down two of their best generals.

Which means they are well and truly fucked.

So, Leonie does the only thing she can logically think to do.

“Come on,” She says, rising from her bedside chair and reaching for his arm. “We need to go tell Linheartd that the situation is much worse than we had originally thought.” But as soon as her hand wraps around his forearm, Felix screams.

“Oh shi-! Felix! Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you!”

If anything, this just seems to have the opposite effect and the wails increase to near piercing.

Leonie thinks it may be a trick of her mind, and probably her ears because holy crap does little Felix have a set of lungs on him, but she is pretty sure that Felix is screaming out a name.

Specifically, a name belonging to a certain red head that is, the last time she checked anyways, unconscious two doors down from his room and currently being watched over by Caspar.

“Fe!” The door bursts open and suddenly there is chaos.

Was being watched over by Caspar, Leonie amends in her mind.

“Get back here!” The blue haired warrior lunges and swipes his arm out trying to catch mini Sylvain who is slipperier than a fish in water, using his short height to duck between legs and launch himself onto the bed.

“Leave Fe alone!” Honey brown eyes that are so very familiar yet also so different, are glaring holes into Leonie and Caspar, proudly defiant and blazing with determination. Short arms stuffed into the smallest adult shirt they could find on short notice stretch out protectively, completely shielding Felix from sight.

“S-Sylvain,” comes the little sob from behind him and the older boy spares a second to throw a comforting smile behind him. “Don’t worry, Fe. I’ll protect you.” And Goddess, he sounds so genuine and earnest that it makes Leonie wonder what happened to cause their Sylvain to hide behind fake laughs and charming lilts of the tongue.

“Sorry, Leonie.” Caspar is gasping for air like he has just run a marathon. “I tried to keep him in his room but as soon as he heard Felix screaming, he was out faster than I could blink.”

“Ugh. Just go get Ingrid and the Professor.”

----

2. Sylvain hates himself and his crest, but Felix likes him in spite of it.

A day later finds Ingrid watching over the five year old Felix (“What?! He’s five? But he’s so tiny.” “Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll cry again.”) and seven year old Sylvain.

“Just stay in this area, okay?” She calls out over the din of raucous laughter echoing throughout the courtyard. “I don’t want you two wandering off and getting into trouble.”

The play wrestling pauses for a brief moment and little Sylvain sticks out a tongue at her.

“We don’t get into trouble! You’re just a party pooper!”

“Yeah! Party pooper!”

Shoving down the urge to smack her childhood friends into the next moon, Ingrid settles for watching with pursed lips as Felix dissolves into giggles, Sylvain’s grabby hands finding purchase in his sides and tickling him relentlessly. The look of such carefree happiness on their faces makes her heart clench and eyes sting.

If Ingrid is being completely honest… she misses this.

She remembers what it was like not carrying around a broken heart for a man buried six feet under, his remains not even whole enough to bring home. Back when she could play wrestle with Fe, Sylvie, and Dima in the dirt and then go to Glenn to kiss her knee better when one of them inevitably accidentally activated their crest and used too much strength, resulting in tears and scrapes and bruises.

It doesn’t do her any good to dwell on the past.

The dead should be left to rest, and the living should move on.

For an emotionally constipated guy, Felix is dead on with his philosophy.

Though she has long come to terms with her betrothed’s death, the small sliver of envy she has for her two oldest friends still lingers in the deepest, darkest recesses of her heart.

They’re lucky that they still have each other, even though they spend half the time bickering and denying their feelings.

“Is that the Gautier boy?”

Two monastery staff members stop beneath the path archway and look with undisguised admiration.

“So handsome at such a young age!”

“And I hear he’s incredibly charming too.”

Ingrid knows that Sylvain and hear them. He has always been keen of hearing, especially when it involves others gossiping about himself, for better or for worse.

Felix takes advantage of Sylvain’s distraction to get the upper hand and rolls on top, completely oblivious to the onlookers.

“If I were his mother, I would have secured him a betrothed as soon as he was tested for a crest.”

A hum of agreement. “Yes. His family is blessed with good looks so it would not be hard to secure an advantageous match. The Gautier line will likely continue on stronger than ever with such a prized heir.”

“Sylvain? Why did you stop?”

Felix is all wide eyes and adorable pouty cheeks, staring confusedly down at his best friend underneath him who has gone strangely silent with a strangled expression.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

The two gossipmongers snap to attention at Ingrid’s sharp tone, her expression clearly telling them to get the hell out of here or risk facing her wrath.

With rushed replies of “yes, sorry miss!” and “our apologies”, they scurry off down the pathway and disappear around the corner.

But unfortunately, the damage is already done.

“Sylvain? What’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

Gently, the older boy extricates himself from Felix’s death grip of a grapple and stands up with his eyes cast downwards. “Sorry, Fe. I… I don’t want to play anymore.”

“What? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“I’m tired. I want to go back to our room.”

It only takes one look at Sylvain’s expression before Felix is latching his fists into the fabric of Sylvain’s pants with a scowl on his face.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Fe! I don’t want to play anymore.”

“We’re best friends aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, of course we are.”

“Best friends don’t lie to each other.”

Ingrid has patiently watched the exchange between Felix and Sylvain to this very moment, hoping that they can sort out this argument without her intervening like she always did as a child, but through years of experience, she can sense that one of them is about to snap and she would very much like to avoid that.

“You know the only reason we’re best friends is because our parents are friends and we both have crests.”

There it is.

It’s absolutely heart breaking how Sylvain has already learned to self destruct at the tender age of seven. If Miklan were still alive, Ingrid would skewer him a thousand times over for instilling the mantra of ‘you’re not worthy of love’ into Sylvain’s head.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go-“

“You’re a stupid head if that’s what you think.” Felix’s interruption shocks her. His usually bright amber eyes are fixed in a watery glare leveled at the boy opposite him. Right now, Ingrid may as well be invisible for all Felix cares.

“What?”

“You’re a stupid head!”

Sylvain looks absolutely affronted.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are!” a few tears have managed to slip beyond the barrier and trail down Felix’s cheeks. “I don’t care that our parents know each other. And I don’t care about any stupid crests.”

Felix marches up to Sylvain with all the anger he can muster in his five year old glory and reaches up to smoosh his cheeks together. “I’d still pick you to be my best friend in the whole wide world because you’re funny and nice and I’m always happier with you than Ingrid or Dima.”

Sylvain can only stand there with his lips parted in round ‘o’ from his cheeks being pushed together and a dazed look in his eye. Felix takes this as a sign to continue his little tirade.

“And I know you’re smart so you should stop being such a stupid head because I don’t care what you think. You’re my best friend and I’ll always pick you over any stupid crest.”

“Fe…”

She recognizes that tone. Ingrid looks away then because she fears that if she doesn’t, the part of her heart that belongs to Glenn might just twist its way into her throat and choke her with envy.

Sylvain is giving Felix that look that she has seen many times throughout their lives whenever she watches her two friends from afar. It’s one that everyone, except for Felix, has seen a million times and knows that to Sylvain, the world around him has fallen away except for one person.

“You’re my best friend, Sylvain. So, don’t lie to me.”

For the first time since the gossipers appeared, Sylvain lets a smile slip through.

“Okay. I promise.”

Felix eyes him warily and searches for any hint of a lie in Sylvain’s expression. Once satisfied, he loops his own pinky around the one outstretched to him.

“Good. Now let’s go play Knights and Bandits!”

Perhaps it is because Felix is always looking ahead that he never sees how Sylvain looks at him like he was the one who hung the stars and moon in his dark sky, illuminating his life with happiness and love.

----

3. Felix feels so much and Sylvain is the only one who understands him even without words.

A collective sigh echoes throughout the monastery when they find out that mini Felix and mini Sylvain aren’t too picky with their food.

Granted, even as a child, Felix shows a proclivity towards eating meat; but with a little friendly jostling from his best friend, even the youngest Fraldarius son can be convinced to eat his brussel sprouts.

Which is exactly why Claude is so baffled when Felix starts to protest eating during mealtimes.

“What do you mean he won’t eat?”

He’s well aware that he probably sounds like an idiot, if the exasperated look Lorenz is giving him is anything to go by; but they haven’t had any trouble before so it makes absolutely no sense that Felix would start being picky now.

“It’s exactly as I said,” Lorenz frowns. “We were all simply sitting together enjoying a meal, when Felix stopped eating and refused to finish his dinner. I’ve been told this is now the third occurrence in a row that his has happened.”

“Was he full?” Byleth pauses from looking through some supply requests to chime into their conversation. Although she has not outright said anything, Claude knows his love well enough to tell that she is stressed about their current predicament. Felix throwing a silent protest against food is just one more thing to add to her pile of worries that she doesn’t need.

“Don’t worry, Teach,” Claude winks and flashes his signature grin. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You just worry about securing our supplies for the next moon, yeah?” His chair lets out a deafening screech as it drags across the floor, drowning out any protests their former professor may have and providing Claude the distraction he needs to usher Lorenz out of the room with him.

“Claude, are you sure you know what you are doing?” The doubt rolling off Lorenz would have offended a lesser man, but Claude has spent his life being the underdog and he lets the words bounce harmlessly off him. “Felix is not an enemy to be outsmarted. He is simply a child who only adheres to emotion.”

“I am aware of that, yes.”

“Then why do you look as though you are about to hatch a scheme?”

Because he is.

And although Felix is not an ‘enemy’, per say, doesn’t mean that Claude can’t use his usual tactics of watching and observing his opponent until he has hatched a plot to take them down. Hence, leading to Claude’s current position tucked away in the far corner of the mess hall during the following breakfast.

Even on his off days, Claude is always watching and learning. He knows the favourite foods of all his fellow comrades in arms and he also knows whom everyone’s preferred companion is.

There is very little that escapes his notice, and the Resistance Army leader is confident that he will have a plan by sundown at the very least.

It is a little past 8am when the two children sleepily trudge their way into the dining hall with Bernadetta, their ward for the day, close behind them.

Nothing seems particularly strange or odd when they join the line to retrieve their meal; and nothing remarkable happens either when Bernie leads them to the only empty table left in the middle of the hall.

“Good morning, Bernadetta!” Raphael greets cheerily and shuffles his mountain of food over to join the trio at their table. “Good morning, Felix, Sylvain!”

The little ones mumble back a greeting, but their voices are lost in the din of the morning meal chatter.

So far, so good. Felix is still eating his porridge (albeit with an adorable frown on his face) and talking animatedly about goddess knows what with Sylvain, who occasionally turns to answer a question from the adults.

“Oh, good morning, Bernadetta, Felix, Sylvain!”

Slowly but surely, the table begins to fill as their friends meander into the building in search of food to start their day. Greetings are exchanged and unsurprisingly, Felix and Sylvain garner a lot of attention due to their current forms. Sylvain, ever the chatterbox that he is, fields most of the questions; Whether it is because he is being considerate of his quieter friend or if he simply relishes in the attention is debatable, but Claude cannot help but notice how his eyes constantly dart back towards Felix who grows increasingly frustrated.

“Oh, you’re just too adorable!” Annette’s squeal of delight reaches even Claude’s remote corner and he assumes that the wince he sees from Felix is due to the sheer volume of the orange haired mage. Sylvain, the current object of attention, just flashes her his prize winning smile; his dimples making him look even more endearing than he already is.

The adults gathered around the children don’t even notice that Felix has stopped eating. Nor do they see Sylvain quietly reach below the table to grab Felix’s smaller hand in what looks to be a gesture of comfort.

In fact, it takes another five minutes of cooing and fawning before Raphael, of all people, notices that Felix is now glaring with teary eyes at his bowl of half eaten porridge.

“What’s wrong, little buddy? Not feeling well?”

Immediately the attention shifts to him and the effects are just as disastrous as Claude predicts.

“I’m not hungry.” Some of the porridge finds its way onto the table as Felix pushes his bowl away with such ferocity, Claude is half surprised it doesn’t completely tip over.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry?” Annette frowns. “This is the fourth time you’ve left a meal unfinished. Are you not feeling well? Do you need to go see Mercedes?”

“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Felix? We just want to make sure you’re not getting sick.”

“I’m fine.”

It’s a big fat lie and anyone with half a brain can hear the distress and frustration in the blue haired boy’s voice. One lone tear manages to squeeze its way out of Felix’s water logged eyes and that’s all it takes for the table to burst into a flurry.

Claude almost feels bad for Felix as the adults descend on him like a pack of vultures, all of them crowding him and trying to coax the reason for his distress out of him. The Almyran prince has half a mind to go over and rescue his friend in arms from a situation that is probably in his top ten worst fears, but before he can even get out of his seat, Sylvain is already bounding out of his chair with a teary Felix in tow.

Sylvain shouts something about ‘Knights and Bandits’ and they’re out the southern doors before Bernadetta can even process what has happened.

Felix’s half eaten bowl of porridge sits on the table completely forgotten.

----

At lunch, Claude decides to test a hypothesis.

He asks Mercedes and Hilda to sit with the kids at lunch and pay special attention to Felix.

To everyone else, he gives them strict orders to leave their table alone.

Satisfied with how his experiment is set up, Claude finally seats himself back in his observatory spot with his own lunch sitting in front of him.

He’s not expecting amazing results. In fact, he’s not expecting his first hypothesis to be a success at all, but he wants to try it none the less because there is always the possibility that mini Felix fundamentally operates much differently than the Felix that he is used to.

What he doesn’t expect is for Felix to immediately shut down the minute Hilda tries to engage him in some conversation about the games him and Sylvain play in the courtyard.

Today’s lunch special is Daphnel Stew and Claude has it on good authority that it is a favourite of Felix’s (technically Dimitri is a reliable source, right? They were childhood friends after all).

Sylvain tries his best to jump into the conversation and pull some of the attention to himself, but Hilda is every bit as smooth of a talker as Claude is; deftly maneuvering the conversation back to Felix no matter what Sylvain does.

This time, it is Felix that reaches for Sylvain’s hand under the table.

Except instead of just holding Sylvain’s hand, Felix starts to pull at it every time Mercedes or Hilda asks him a question, as if pleading for his friend to save him.

At least Claude could now say for sure that Felix is not, and never was, a fan of being the center of attention.

When the first afternoon bell tolls signaling the end of lunch, Felix’s stew remains uneaten and untouched. On the way out of the hall, Claude looks the other way and pretends not to notice when Sylvain steals an apple from the pantry.

His experiment doesn’t exactly succeed, but he cannot write it off as a failure either. The information gathered from his two observation sessions is plentiful and a solution is forming within his mind even as he makes his way up to the war room to meet Byleth for their afternoon strategy session.

By the time he pushes open the door to his usual haunt, Claude is absolutely certain of two truths.

One, that Sylvain knows Felix better than anyone could ever hope to compare, and two, Felix Fraldarius is incredibly lucky to have an attentive best friend like Sylvain because stars above, does he suck with using his words.

----

When the hour before dinner time rolls around, Claude makes sure to talk to everyone he passes by and give them the order that no one is to approach Felix and Sylvain’s tables at mealtimes anymore. He tells them to pass the word around and it doesn’t take long before the entire monastery is in the know of their Leader’s command.

“Care for company?” Byleth smiles and sets her tray down beside his own without waiting for a reply.

Claude does a quick survey of the area to make sure no one is looking before leaning in to land a quick peck on Byleth’s cheek. Joy flutters in his stomach at her rising blush and he merely laughs and winks at her stuttered protests.

“Check it out,” Claude quickly changes the subject and nods his head over to where Bernadetta sits exhausted with a now cheerful Felix and Sylvain. The latter nodding enthusiastically to their conversation with the occasional laugh and both of their plates near devoid of food.

A tiny rush of pride swells when he sees the relived expression on Byleth’s face.

“Told ya I’d take care of it.”

Underneath the table, he flips his palm facing upward so that he can intertwine his fingers with her searching ones.

“Yes, you did.” The unspoken thanks lingers in the air between them, louder than the constant buzz of activity in the room.

For the first time in a while, the former professor looks more at ease. And Claude, being the shit stirrer that he is, cannot help but toss a little fuel into the fire.

“So… who do you think will wear white at the wedding? Between the two of them, I think Felix is the better choice.”

“What?!”

----

4. Felix has an unwavering faith and belief in Sylvain that he’s not afraid to stubbornly stand by to the bitter end.

“Annie, are you sure this is a good idea?”

If Mercedes is concerned, then Lysithea is absolutely certain that no, this is most definitely not a good idea.

They are at the part of the training grounds where the various magic users can come to practice and hone their spells. The ground is singed with charred marks from stray thunder and fire spells, the black streaks contrasting starkly with the pale stone underneath. To the side, there is also a sand pit where mages can practice some more destructive flame based spells.

“I’m just a little curious, is all!” Annette whispers back. “I know Sylvain is really good with magic even though he never uses it. He was the one who helped me understand that magic formula that I was stuck on for a week, after all. I was thinking maybe he might show an aptitude for Reason as a child.”

“That’s fine and all; but I’m not really sure how safe it is to teach a child how to conjure a fire spell. That just seems like a recipe for disaster.”

The orange hair mage cannot help but look slightly put out by Lysithea’s comment.

Yes, maybe it wasn’t the safest idea ever… but Annette just really wants to find out the extent of Sylvain’s inherent abilities. Even after she makes him promise to take his training more seriously, she still feels like he is holding back on her when they are paired together.

“What kinda magic are you gonna show us?” Felix is eager and bouncing on his toes. The House Fraldarius specializes in swordplay, not magic, so this is a treat for him and he can barely contain his excitement.

“Oh well, I was thinking we could start off with a basic fire spell!”

“Oooh, fire!”

Annette really hopes that Felix doesn’t have a penchant for pyrotechnics.

As much of a bad idea as this is, Lysithea can’t exactly bring herself to leave them in case something goes terribly wrong. She is the strongest, most advanced Gremory the Resistance Army has; with her around, she’s confident that the worst that could happen would be some singed eyebrows and possibly an impromptu need for a haircut. But even that is an outcome that she is hoping to avoid.

Once the target is set up, Sylvain and Felix eagerly make their way over to the sidelines to watch Annette demonstrate a basic fire spell.

It’s nothing special really. Even the older Felix and Sylvain could probably cast it without much problem, but to their younger versions, the small ball of fire is so grand and spectacular that it warrants oo’s and ah’s and enthusiastic applause.

“Wow! That is so cool! Isn’t that so cool, Sylvain?”

Felix is pulling on Sylvain’s sleeve and the older boy nods emphatically with admiration shining in his eyes.

“Do you think you could do it too?”

Lysithea is startled to hear the question Felix asks Sylvain. Of course, Annette was already planning to ask the Gautier boy to attempt the spell, but that was out of curiosity.

From the shining look on Felix’s face, Lysithea knows that he is asking because in his mind, there is nothing that his smart, talented best friend in the whole wide world cannot do.

“Magic is difficult to learn and takes time. It can take years for some to learn just the basics.” She cuts in before Sylvain can answer.

She doesn’t want Felix to unwittingly trap him with an unrealistic expectation that he cannot meet and she figures it is better to disappoint him now rather than allow the red head to try and then feel guilty when he disappoints his friend.

“Sylvain is smart. I bet Sylvain could do it!”

Felix is pouting in that way that they are all quickly learning means ‘I’m right and you can’t convince me otherwise’.

“I’m sure Sylvain is very smart!” Mercedes agrees and gives the boys her best placating smile. “But I’m not so sure that a person could learn how to cast a Fire spell in one day! Why, it took Annie and I at least a week of practicing before we could do it!”

“Yep, I remember I almost burned my eyebrows off the first time I tried! But I can teach you the basics maybe and then we can bring you here again next time to practice?”

The urge to verbally reprimand the warlock for her relentless pursuit to satisfy her own curiosity rises and Lysithea has to physically clutch her biceps to stop herself from bursting.

Fine. If they were so eager to set themselves down this path, then so be it.

“Yeah!” Felix is literally vibrating with excitement and Sylvain looks nervous but determined to not let his admirer down.

Heaving a sigh, Lysithea moves to settle next to Mercedes who sends her an apologetic smile.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

----

Unsurprisingly, Felix does not do so well with learning the basics.

The diagrams and symbols are a little too much on the side of complex and it becomes apparent rather quickly that there is a reason the Fraldarius men carve through the battlefield with swords instead of magic.

“Aw, it’s okay Fe! You’re still the best with a sword anyways. You don’t need magic!” Sylvain ruffles his hair and smiles. “You’ll always beat me at swordplay.”

The small admission is enough to cheer Felix up and after a bit more nudging from the older boy, he runs off to play around with the wooden practice swords they have on the other side of the training room while Annette and Sylvain continue to work on creating basic magic circles.

It’s only after the third hour and Mercedes has long left to attend to various chores that Lysithea turns to watch Felix go through rather crude sword forms instead.

“You need to spread your feet farther apart.” Using her own foot, she nudges Felix’s left heel to the side to widen his stance. “Try striking again now.”

The wooden sword wobbles a bit in its trajectory, but the swing is undoubtedly much better than before. The sheer delight that lights up in Felix’s eyes almost makes Lysithea laugh out loud because she recognizes it as the same gleam she sees in the older Felix’s eyes when he executes a particularly hard maneuver.

“Why aren’t you watching Sylvain and Annie?”

For a five year old, Felix is incredibly perceptive.

Rather than lie to him, Lysithea opts for honesty because she is sure that’s what older Felix would have wanted.

“I don’t think he’ll succeed.”

Felix frowns. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know how hard it is to learn magic. I’m sure Sylvain is very intelligent, but it takes a lot of hard work to use Reason.”

“Sylvain can do it. I know he can.”

She sighs and turns a baleful eye down at Felix. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you.”

“Glenn said that to me too when he didn’t believe me that I could stay up all night waiting for Sylvain.”

“And did you prove him wrong?”

Felix turns to full face her, expression full of gravity.

“Yup.” The dead seriousness of his tone looses Lysithea’s first laugh of the day and she cannot help but be drawn towards this little boy, the same way she was drawn to his older self.

Deigning not to continue a lost conversation, the cake loving Gremory opts to turn back and watch the progress that the other two have made, leaving Felix muttering to himself about his steadfast belief in his best friend.

----

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

The sun is setting and it is nearly time for dinner by the time Sylvain and Annette break away from Magic and Sorcery: Vol 1. to actually put some practice to the theory they have spent all day studying.

“Now, don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get it.” Annette says while moving out of the way. “You did just learn the basics and it takes a lot of practice!”

Lysithea has not moved from her perch from a nearby bench. She’s still extremely skeptical that Sylvain will manage to do very much at all. Yes, it is true that he had a budding talent for Reason during their academy days, but Sylvain hardly ever applied himself to any of his studies. The professor had to literally force him to attend one on one magic lessons with her before his aptitude for spells finally emerged.

Although, she muses, this younger Sylvain seems to be more enthusiastic to participate in things he was interested in. Even now, the scrunched up look of concentration on his face is indication enough that the Sylvain Lysithea is used to is a much different creature than the one before her currently.

House Ordelia does not really have any established trade routes with the Gautier territory, but the Ordelia heir has heard enough to know that the current Margrave is an arrogant, crest-obsessed prick.

It doesn’t take a prodigy to connect the dots and surmise that Sylvain’s carefree attitude and refusal to apply himself to anything is a product of his father’s suffocating expectations.

Fuck Margrave Gautier.

Maybe Lysithea does want Sylvain to prove her wrong and succeed; then at least he can go back home and light his father’s breeches on fire.

She’s only slightly disappointed when her expectations prove correct and the best Sylvain can conjure is one tiny flicker from a lone flame in his hand. However, it is still much more than she thought Sylvain would be able to do and for that, she is genuinely impressed.

Annette is also very much awestruck with Sylvain’s quick learning and happily informs the boy of this all the way to the dining hall. Sylvain is uncharacteristically quiet as he listens to the older mage praise him, but he is not yet skilled enough in the art of hiding behind a mask and the slight downward tilt of his lips does not go unnoticed.

“You really did an amazing job learning so much in such a short time, Sylvain! Don’t be too disappointed that you couldn’t do it.”

Sylvain gives a weak smile in return, but it is Felix who ultimately responds; one hand clasped tightly in the Gautier’s and the other one balled into a fist.

“Sylvain can do it. Just watch.”

----

Dinner passes without much fanfare and the boys are eventually tucked in for the night. Claude and Byleth have long decided that a full-time night chaperone is no longer necessary; although occasionally, one of their friends will peek into the room in the dead of night before they retire, but very rarely do they find anything wrong that requires their attention. A week has already passed with no incident, so there should be no need to exhaust their soldiers by keeping them up at night.

Except this time, when Petra nudges the door to their room open – being extremely careful not to open it too fast lest the hinges squeak – she does not see any sign of Felix or Sylvain anywhere.

It is the dead of night, but Garreg Mach Monastery blazes alive with a flurry of panic at the toll of the emergency bell.

“You’re absolutely sure no one saw them leave their room?”

Seteth slams his palms on the table and interrogates the night shift guards; his brows furrowed and mind racing a mile a minute.

If the enemy has somehow managed to sneak into Garreg Mach and kidnap the children, then they are well and truly fucked. They may have to abandon their home base or at the very least do an extensive investigation of their current ranks and re-evaluate their current passive defense.

“There were no signs that a struggle was happening.” Petra voices from her place around the war table. “I am having confidence that they left with willingness.”

“Goddess, please keep them safe.” The situation leaves a bad taste in Flayn’s mouth; it is much too reminiscent of when she was kidnapped and although it has been years since the incident, the memories still plague her.

Byleth’s voice leaves no room for discussion, “everyone split up and search the grounds. Most of our facilities are locked up at night so that should help limit the number of places we need to search.”

Everyone dashes out of the room with their orders and branch off at the second floor corridor. Those once belonging to the Black Eagle house comb through the main hall while the former Blue Lion students check all surrounding independent buildings; the Golden Deer fanning out to cover the outdoor grounds of the monastery.

An hour passes. Then another. And another.

Soon it is 3 in the morning and the panic is truly beginning to set in, giving rise to an unsettling fear clawing its way up from the depths of the night.

“Dimitri, Dedue! Have you found anything?” Ingrid pants and skids to a halt just below the stairs to the Sauna; the rest of her Blue Lion classmates run up to join her and debrief their findings.

“Nothing,” Dedue’s tone is flat as usual but his strangled expression is enough to betray his underlying worry. “We have searched all the open buildings and the grounds. There is no sign of them at all.”

Annette is near tears now and Mercedes places a hand on her shoulder, offering her silent support even while she herself is fiddling with her shawl, an attempt to keep her mind occupied before it spirals.

“It’s not like them to run away,” Ashe frowns. “Did anything happen today? Were they acting weird at all?”

“Not really. All we did was practice magic at the training grounds.”

Mercedes frowns. “Perhaps they left something there and went back to retrieve it?”

“The training grounds should be locked at 11PM. No one should be able to get in or out until sunrise.” Dimitri shakes his head.

“Well then we’re clearly running out of ideas here!” Ingrid throws up her hands in frustration and rakes them through her hair which is on the verge of looking like a bird’s nest. “We’ve checked the dining hall and the greenhouse but –“

“Your Majesty.” Dedue’s raised voice cuts Ingrid short and they look over to see the doors to the training grounds swing open slowly with a slight push of the man’s hands. “The doors were not locked as we thought.”

It takes only a heartbeat for them to scramble through the large wooden doors and down the hallway, their rushed footsteps echoing like thunder in the stone corridor.

“Oh Goddess. I smell smoke. Does anyone else smell smoke?” If her heartbeat accelerates any more, Annette is pretty sure she will have a heart attack.

“It’s coming from over there!” Their King leads the charge towards the magical training arena where the smell of smoke is the thickest.

When they burst into the open area, they are prepared for the worst. Weapons are drawn and hands raised with spells on the tips of tongues, but the sight they are greeted with is enough to shock them into stasis.

There in the middle of the sandpit, hunched over and panting hard, albeit with a brilliant grin on his face, is Sylvain. The practice dummy a few feet in front of him is alit with flames, illuminating the room with an orange glow, casting shadows along the stone walls that flicker like a live audience.

And off to the side bundled up in a woolen teal blanket that they all recognize, is a tired, but extremely proud looking Felix Fraldarius staring directly at the newcomers.

“I told you he could do it!”

----

5. Sylvain has given Felix all the pieces of his fragile, fractured heart, even if he isn’t aware he possesses it.

Although once his greatest secret, Ignatz no longer hides his passion for art from his fellow Resistance Army members.

It’s not uncommon these days for people to find him at random places in the monastery with his art supplies sketching away at preserving a moment in time on blank paper forevermore.

Today, he is sitting on a bench next to a large oak tree, just a stone’s throw away from the main grounds. Beneath the shade and tucked between two large roots lie Sylvain and Felix, both completely tuckered out from their earlier attempts at climbing the towering tree. Sylvain is starfished on the ground with his arms stretched wide; to his left, Felix lays curled away from him with his head pillowed on the outstretched limb.

Sylvain and Felix have been the talk of the monastery for the past week and it is pretty obvious why. It’s not every day that you see two high ranking generals revert back to their child forms. Especially the most notorious bother-me-and-I’ll-bite-your-head-off and if-it-breathes-I’ll-flirt-with-it Generals to boot.

Of course, stories of their shenanigans and troublemaking usually fill the daily meal conversations, but there is one topic that floats above all else; the one that makes the maids in the kitchen giggle and even the burliest of knights crack a smile:

It is clear that even from a young age, Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius are absolutely smitten with each other.

The two are inseparable and Ignatz is pretty sure that even a blind man would be able to see the absolute trust and unspoken devotion they have towards each other.

Ignatz has spent the day watching Felix and Sylvain, not just because it’s his turn to babysit, but also because he is fascinated with their bond. He had once thought that the Goddess was the most beautiful thing in the world, but the rawness and purity of their relationship fills him with more piety and awe than any portrait or statue of Sothis ever did.

It is like they are two parts of a well-oiled machine. Where one gives way, the other will step in to fill the gap; whenever Sylvain’s insecurities flare up, Felix is always there to chase the demons away with clumsy words and a physical display of affection, using his own body to ground his best friend and keep him close. Likewise, whenever tears well up in the youngest Fraldarius’ eyes (which is unfortunately quite often), Sylvain is there to wipe away the salty tracks and light up Felix’s heart with a smile warmer and brighter than sunshine.

Ignatz’s original plans were to draw the oak tree and the beautiful meadow of primrose flowers, but it seems that there will be a last minute change in muse.

Taking up his piece of charcoal, he begins the outline of what he thinks will be his fondest work to date.

Ignatz doesn’t know how long he spends sitting on that bench hunched over his sketchbook in silence with only the occasional birdsong floating through the silence. It’s so calm and peaceful that he doesn’t even notice that Sylvain has begun to stir until he looks up to find one of his subjects in a different position.

Leonie had warned him that Sylvain has a tendency towards nightmares. She had discovered that unfortunate fact in the first three days when each time she tip-toed into their room to check up on them, she found Sylvain wide awake with wild terror in his eyes and a sleepy Felix clinging to him comfortingly.

Strangely enough, Sylvain also does not startle awake from his nightmares. Instead, he slowly rouses himself as if from a deep sleep and if it weren’t for the glaze of lingering fear in his eyes, none would be able to tell that he had just woken up from a night terror.

That same glazed look is now flickering rapidly around him as if searching for the shadow of a monster that exists only within his mind.

“Sylvain…?”

Wild brown eyes finally settle on steady molten amber ones.

“Fe.”

“It’s okay, Sylvain. I’m here...”

Felix yawns and shuffles around until he is half wrapped around Sylvain with his left hand settling over Sylvain’s pounding heart.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you…” Small hands curl around the material of Sylvain’s shirt in a death grip. Felix’s loyalty and protectiveness so painfully evident even when the boy himself is half asleep. He manages to cling to the realm of the conscious for a little while longer, until the rapid thump thump thump of Sylvain’s heart slows to a steady lulling rhythm, pulling Felix back down under the veil of sleep.

Ignatz has silently watched this entire exchange and to be honest, he’s not really sure that Sylvain or Felix even remember that he is here with them. He cannot bring himself to make his presence known, so he continues to watch and observe.

He watches as the fear that was once in Sylvain’s eyes slowly recede again, the monsters inside his head vanquished in the company of his best friend. It only takes one more glance at the boy cuddled up to him with a hand protectively hovered over his heart to melt away the chains that bind him to the expectations of the people around him.

Here under this oak tree in a field of blooming young love, there is no crest or Miklan or nobility. There is only Felix and Sylvain.

Sylvain holds onto that truth as he wraps his free arm around the younger boy, tucking him more securely under his chin, letting the cool summer breeze lull him back to a dreamless sleep.

Ignatz pulls out a new page and starts a fresh outline. It takes him a little longer than anticipated to finish his drawing, but he figures it’s not such a bad thing since he likes this new version much better.

Later, as he trails after the now energetic boys back towards the monastery, Ignatz tucks his newest masterpiece securely under his arm, being very careful not to smudge the drawing or crease the paper.

After all, Claude did mention something about a wedding and Ignatz thinks that his drawing will make a fine gift.

----

Bonus: They’re just two idiots in love.

“Go away. Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my meal?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Felix! You know, the younger you was much cuter. Definitely less prickly, too.” Dorothea pokes his cheek and snatches her hand away before Felix can stab it with his steak knife.

It’s been roughly a week since Felix and Sylvain have returned to their normal sizes, the dark magic having run its course and fizzling out without so much as a final spark. To the rest of the Army, this is a joyous occasion as it means that two of their best generals are now back to normal and can command them again. But to the last class of the academy… it is bittersweet.

Of course, they want their friends to return to normal. But that also means that Felix will go back to hissing and spitting with all the fury of a spooked cat and Sylvain will go back to seducing any individual that makes eye contact with him for longer than half a second.

“Better do as he says, Thea. Felix’s looking extra grumpy today and we wouldn’t want you to lose a pretty little finger.” Sylvain winks at her as he sets down his own meal and settles in the seat across from the swordsman.

The opera singer snorts, “right back to the flirting as usual. Save your hollow words for some other girl.”

“Ouch. Give a guy a break! I just recovered from a dark magic spell after all. Doesn’t that warrant some pity?”

“The only pity is that you immediately lost all your innocent and cute appeal when you reverted back to your regular body.”

Felix scowls at them, “if you insist on continuing your flirting, I’ll just eat my meal elsewhere.” He moves to stand but Sylvain is quicker and grabs his wrist, preventing him from moving.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just stay, okay? Please? For me, Fe?”

Sylvain is looking at Felix with that expression which he knows he cannot resist and Dorothea takes this opportunity to slip away while the two engage in a silent conversation with only their eyes.

“Fine.”

Their meal continues with little fanfare and easy conversation. Around them, their old classmates are scattered in their own little groups and if they notice, none of them mentions anything about how everyone seems to avoid sitting at Felix and Sylvain’s table.

Easy conversation flows into dessert, or more specifically: Felix wordlessly giving Sylvain his peach sorbet and Sylvain beaming a rare genuine smile and promising to join him at the training grounds first thing tomorrow morning.

The sun is slowly dipping below the horizon when Sylvain and Felix gather up their dishes. On their way out of the dining hall, Ignatz stops them with a heartfelt congratulations and a bundled up package that looks suspiciously like one of his works.

“Congratulations? For what?” Artfully tousled red hair shifts as Sylvain tilts his head in confusion and reluctantly accepts the gift.

“O-oh, well Claude just said…”

Dread rises up from the pit of Felix’s stomach. “What did that schemer say this time?”

“…He said that you two were getting married.”

“What?!”

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drethanramslay · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3

Pairing: Cassian x MC (for this chapter)

Warning: Violence, slight description of blood and swearing

Word count: 3.3 K

Chapter 1 2

Taglist: @choices-love-affair @miyakokurono @openheart12 @trappedinfandoms @noboundariesplease @nooruleman @madampugzalot @sekizincimektup @dailydoseofchoices @choicesfanaf @kaavyaethanramsey @junggoku @flyawayboo @whatchique @vampiregirlsblog @squishywizardhq @lilyvalentine @agent-breakdance (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist ☺️)

Song: Lover of mine by 5 seconds of summer

Forgive me if there are any mistakes 😬

Being a US Marshal, doesn't purely mean fireballs and explosion. It doesn't mean strong, burly men entering empty warehouses guns blazing.

It means practice, precision and patience.

It means to learn from your mistakes but not dwell in them. We must learn from failure and try better next time. But to indulge in the sorrow or regret brings about unsustainable misery, which doesn't help the cause.

It means providing protection to the people in need when the environment is threatening to their life.

It means being selfless and not hesitating to lay your life for the country. It doesn't mean being suicidal, but it's actually gives meaning and purpose to life.

It means being patient with fugitives and keeping a cool, calm and collected mind at times of crisis.

Assess the situation and defuse it. That's what my supervisor used to say. And it's stuck with me all through my life.

My eyes scanned the room, gauged the situation we were in. Adira was wimpering which gave the intruder a sadistic pleasure. He was running the gun along her jaw.

"Not so feisty are we now?" He said smiling sinisterly.

We could use the false sense of security to our advantage.

The room was a mess. Upturned tables and broken lamps. I was standing at the entrance of the room and they were right across me, around 20 metres away. I know that if I were to do anything, he would straight up blow her brains out. But one thing caught my eye.

They were standing in front of an open widow. That window was pretty big and it opened up on to the rose bushes. A fall from this height might just result in broken bones but, the element of surprise can help us escape.

"Adira." I said calmly, trying to calm her down with my eyes. Her eyes met and I tried to show her that we are going to be okay. That I always have a back up plan.

"Cassian..." She whimpered again.

"Hands like Houdini." I said my eyes not leaving her cerulean ones.

"Huh?" Her eyes focusing, like the lens of a camera.

"Hands like Houdini." I said, without giving much away.

"Stop with this lovey dovey eyes. Shut the FUCK U-"

And at that moment, she threw her hands down and pushed him back with her hips. He stumbled and lost balance resulting him to fall down the window. We heard a yell but it was caught off short. I ran to her and gathered her in my arms.

"It's okay. You are safe. You are alive." I said as I ran my hand through her head. As she seeked comfort in my arms I glanced at the man who fell of the window. A pool of blood was slowly increasing around his head.

He had hit his head to the brick fence. He was dead.

"We need to go. We are compromised." I said as I grabbed her hand and picked up the gun which the intruder had dropped. I checked the number of bullets and Adira picked up the crowbar.

I stared at her and she just shrugged.

Okay then.

We immediately left the house not caring about our clothes or anything. Tomas will hook us up. It was still dusk as we ran down the beach, never once slowing down. I had kept a jet ski under the tarps nearby which could help us in a quick getaway to the sea.

My iPhone had somehow survived the entire ordeal as I reached for it in my pocket. I sped dialed Tomas's number.

"Tell me Keane." Tomas's cool voice spoke through the phone.

"Tomas we have been compromised. I just now fought of three intruders who were wearing a pin with the logo of the Great Irish mob. Tomas... They sent in assassins."

"How is the witness?"

"She is shooken up but okay. We are getting on to the-" a bullet ricocheted through the air and it grazed my shoulder.

"FUCK." I hissed as the pain stung me.

Adira screamed and I immediately spoke into the phone. "Alert the backup. They have cleaning up to do. But DO NOT make a huge show."

Hanging up I turned and I assessed the people shooting us.

"Adira, get the jet ski started. Do you remember how I taught you?" As I loaded the gun and switched off the safety.

Resolution and determination sparked in her eyes. "Yes. Just knock those assholes down while I ride."

She got the jet ski into the sea and put the key into the ignition and roared it to life. I sat facing the shooters lining up the gun and breathing out as my eyes focused on them, letting my instincts flow through me.

Three people.

Three bullets.

Three headshots.

Three dead.

I sighed with relief as the threat had been neutralized. From my point of view this was an absolute win but Tomas would look at it as a failure. But that's okay. Adira was smirking as I leaned against her back, a small smile playing at my lips.

I live to see another day. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well... We have a goddamn mess on our hand." Nwosu's voice boomed through the laptop. Adira was sleeping in the bedroom while Tomas and me were in the lounge on the house boat. It was around eleven in the night and the stars shone bright above the ocean.

I was sitting shirtless, drinking a cool beer so that I could have enough fuel to deal with Nwosu's cranky ass. My collarbone tattoo was on full display and my shoulder was bandaged.

Luckily it was just a scratch but it still stung.

Tomas was standing, with a hand dragging down his face. Sleep deprivation was written all over his face as he took another sip of his third coffee that evening.

"You can say that again." Tomas said as he grumbled into the mug.

"How did it happen though?"

"Adira mentioned her finance background at the shack today, accidentally. I think they have been tailing us for a long damn time. They just were waiting for our cover to blow." I said as I looked into the video camera.

"Fuck. You had one job. So you know what this means?" Nwosu said as he rubbed his hand on his balding head. Anger seeped into my veins and I narrowed my eyes.

"It mean they are onto us. Nwosu, we need to relocate them as soon as possible. Which safe houses are ready to go?" Tomas asked, smoothly cutting the tension. I let out a sigh completely exhausted.

Luckily I don't have a concussion from hitting my head to the counter but there was a dull throb in my temple. I pressed the icepack ti the sore spot again, getting temporary relief.

"If they caught them in a matter of week in Nantucket, then what is the possibility of them finding them anywhere else in the States?" Tomas continued as he scratched his chin.

"Well we-" I began but Nwosu interrupted me like the colossal jackass he is.

"Shit you are right..." I rolled my eyes as he leaned back into his chair.

What a dramatic asshole.

"We are looking at international relocation Nwosu." I said as I crushed and threw the empty beer can into the trash can. "Move the witness into a better location which has good connection with the American embassy and is willing to co-operate to catch these buggers when we need back up." I said as I stretched my hands behind my head.

Tomas and Nwosu were in a long and tense silence. "Which countries will work with us?" Tomas asked.

"We have good relationship with Ireland, Canada and Australia." Nwosu said as he looked up.

"You can remove Canada from the list. Did you see how Trump threw a bitch fit after he found Trudeau and Boris talking behind his back in that conference?" I scoffed. I maybe in law enforcement but I hated the president.

I mean how would he, an owner of a multi-million company know the struggles of the poor. And he is greedy and racist as hell. I have seen how much Nwosu and Tomas had to struggle because of their colour. I'm telling you, one of these days, America is gonna fall into ruin because of this retard.

"Yeah.. you are right. We can even remove Australia because transport is time taking and the mob issues there aren't as grave as it is over here."

"So that leaves Ireland. We did contact them regarding the Great Irish Mob a couple of months back and apparently the HQ is over there in... Kenmare." Tomas said as he opened the other laptop to search for the exchange of messages between them.

My heart started beating fast.

No.. Not Kenmare please.. I started praying. I worked all my life to get out of that hell hole and if I have to go there for an assignment it will be total clownery.

"Kenmare? Haven't heard of that.." Nwosu said.

"It's a small town south to the county if Kerry. It has its peek tourist season and there is considerable nightlife there but, it's pretty quiet out there. It's an ideal place to have HQ. People are busy in their own lives and nobody will question anything." I said as I gave a dry chuckle.

And that's true. They might appear to be friendly and nice but, nobody gives a damn and they turn the other way when a fourteen year old would ask for help.

"Seems like we just got you a new holiday location, Keane. Kenmare it is." Nwosu said as he shut the case file. "I'll be sending you the details ASAP. Good night boys." With that he disconnected the call. I sighed, tension seeping into the muscles of my shoulder, making me stiff.

"How does it feel like to go back home, Keane?" Tomas asked with a grin.

"Can't wait." I said dryly, worry and panic slowly stirring in my stomach.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tomas, Adira and me stepped out of Kerry airport. The sun was shining but the wind blowing was cold. Adira was shivering in the shorts and top she had worn. I had specifically told her that the summer over here is chilly and short but, will she ever listen?

"Hello Mr. Tomas. Welcome to Ireland. I'm Matthew." A Irish ambassador who was wearing the disguise of a taxi driver spoke as he shook my hand.

"Dia dhuit." I greeted him, my Irish accent becoming more pronounced.

"Irish?" Matthew asked as he gave me a curious eye. I just stiffly nodded, and stuffed my hands in the pocket and eyes him, challenging him to ask me anything more about my personal life.

He got the hint to shut up and turned towards Tomas. Adira just gave me a quizzical look because of my moodiness but I just ignored her. "I shall take you to the house. This way please."

We all piled into one of the yellow cabs with Tomas riding shotgun while Adira and me sat in the back. We were cozied up due to the luggages but I couldn't't help but notice the distance between us.

"So, debrief me." Tomas said, straight getting down to business.

"Well... Killian and wife aren't here but the mob is in control of a certain person who goes by the alias 'Killer'."

How original. I scoffed mentally at the cliche name.

"This 'killer' person is the right hand of Killian and this mob believes in family and hierarchy. Initially they were all over here but, Killian took maximum amount of the mob members to the States. 'The killer' is just a temporary head."

"Do you have any mugshots of him? Tomas asked as he scanned the manilla file.

"The guy is literally like a ghost. He is damn good at what he does and he covers up his tracks so well that there is any clues. He just kills and vanishes. He has no weaknesses whatsoever."

Tomas looked at me and we had a moment of understanding. This 'killer' dude is too good and would be too hard to take down.

"Let's talk about safety of the witness." I said as I leaned my elbows on my knees.

"She will be perfectly fine because the mob hasn't been very active as of now. I have selected a safe house and working place where the activities are minimal and our agents are present." Matthew spoke as he pulled on to the N22 road.

"Good. And how about backup in case things go to shit?" I asked as I side eyed Adira. She just huffed and crossed her hands, glaring out of the window. She knows, if she would have been a little more careful, things wouldn't have gone the way they did in Nantucket.

But there's no point bringing that up, is there?

"They will be ready the moment you give us the signal. Agents will be in disguise." He said dutifully.

"Good." Tomas said before they dipped into the boring conversation about paperwork and the different tourist attractions in Kenmare.

I just turned towards the window and looked out at the scenic beauty of the place. Adira was in awe and she was clicking photos but I just couldn't help but detest the place.

All beautiful things have something to hide.

I had wanted to get out of this place so badly but seeing the familiar bridge across the river and the Sheen valley, made it unbearable to watch. I just shut my eyes and tried to push it all out.

If only I could do the same with my past.

If only it could stay where it's supposed to be.

If only I didn't have to go back to the place which took my parents away from me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We were going through the town and I noticed how much it had changed. The buildings had been repaired and repainted in vibrant colours and many more shops had opened up. I could see No. 35, a famous cafe open still and I couldn't help but smile.

My mom and dad used to take me there for pancakes on Sunday mornings. I would hold their hands and we would walk around and then stop by the waterfalls, where we would play tag and bask in the sun.

It was beautiful. My family was beautiful. And seeing the different places I had spent time with them gave me joy as well as it tormented me. It was a flux of emotions which I couldn't comprehend.

I mean, men are not emotionally evolved.

"Cassian... Are you okay?" Adira asked lowly as she saw me clench my jaw and she proceeded put a hand on my clenched fist.

"Yeah I'm fine."

Fine. That's all I am ever going to be. I can't break down. I can't show weakness.

"If you say so..." She said as she shrugged and gave me a last look before looking out of the window.

The car turned and started going down a familiar route. My eyes widened.

"Wait a minute... Where is the safe house?"

"Henry Street."

FUCK.

"Why does that mean anything to you?" Matthew asked as he looked into the rearview mirror, his blue eyes meeting mine.

"Uh, yeah.. I used to live there with my family before I shifted to the States."

"Cassian will we be meeting your parents?" Adira asked excitedly and I couldn't help but wince. Tomas gave me a sympathetic look and I sighed.

"No. They... are dead."

"Oh I'm so sorry." Pain flickered in her eyes and I gave a small smile.

"Me too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could see it from my room.

I could see it mocking me.

I could see it taunting me.

I could see it calling out to me.

The familiar red brick house which was once my home, stood there, looming at the corner of the street. The trees had grown and the weeds were all around the place. But the house was surprisingly well kept. When I left the place because the authorities had thrown me into an orphanage, I had locked up everything. The doors, the windows and the gate. I keep that key with me.

Think of it as a symbolism. This key opens the room in my heart, where all the happy and good memories are. Whenever things would get hard, I would hold the key and reminisce. I don't expect anyone to understand me or anyone to get what I'm saying and honestly, I don't care.

I stood there looking at my old house, clenching the key in my hand. As if it was supposed to give me strength.

I know I need to go there and clear out my family's belonging.

But it's terrifying.

"Cassian! Let's go and check out where I will be working. I also heard that there's a farmer's market." Adira spoke as she knocked on the door.

I let go of the curtain and turned around to grin at her. Her hair was chestnut colour now and she was wearing specs. She had also worn green coloured lenses so that we could sell the disguise a little bit more.

A distraction is what I need.

"Sure. Also we need to discuss your disguise, Anastasia Roy."

"Yes Cassian, I know. Let's go now!"

Throwing one last look at the ghost of my past, I picked up my leather jacket and walked out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around 6pm and all the stores were slowly shutting down. Adira and me were walking down the streets with an ice cream and groceries in the other hand.

"God I always loved European ice creams." Adira moaned and I shook my head.

"Well you can't say that if you are a barista." I pointed out.

She momentarily got angry but then she just sighed. "Yeah.. I am sorry for ignoring your advice in Nantucket. I will follow the rules to the T. Also I can smoothly transition into a barista because I worked in a cafe when I was in college."

"I can't believe you worked in a cafe."

"I was bored so I just joined a cafe so that I could learn latte art and all. I got fired though when I threw cold coffee on Tiffany. God that BITCH." She waved her hand.

Such a drama queen.

"I hope you don't do that in yoir new job. Also, you will be working there, at George's cafe in the morning shift. I would prolly be in the opposite park during your shift so that I can keep an eye on you."

"I don't need babys-" Adira stopped herself before she shook her head, as if she was clearing her head. "Okay Cassian. I appreciate it."

What has come over her?

I wanted to ask her and know what was going on in her mind but we were interrupted.

A young boy came running up to us and greeted us. He handed a beautiful blue lily flower in our direction. I just chuckled and looked the other way, assuming that it was for Adira.

"Awww aren't you a sweetie. Thank y-" Adira was saying but the boy interrupted her.

"This flower is not for you. Its for him." My eyes shit towards him as he handed me the flower.

"Who gave it?" I asked my eyes narrowing, instantly not trusting this.

The boy pointed across the road. "Him."

My eyes followed the direction he was pointing in and my eyes met one of the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen.

Green ones met hazel eyes and I was in a trance.

He was standing across the street wearing a full sleeve shirt, with a jacket thrown on top and black jeans. He had twinkling hazel eyes, which gleamed in the rays of the dying sun. A smile was playing on his lips and he had pronounced dimples. He had a sharp jawline and tousled long brown hai, which could not decide which direction they wanted to stay in.

Let me tell you, I'm straight but I have never seen such a handsome and beautiful man in my life before.

He had a tall and lean frame with both his hands in his pockets. When our eyes met he lifted a hand and gave me a small wave. I couldn't help but grin and wave him back, the joy in his eyes was contagious. With that he turned and strolled down the street, disappearing into the crowd of people.

"Cassian... Who is he?" Adira asked, breaking my reverie as she eyes him.

I looked down at the lily he gave me and shrugged.

"I don't know..."

But I am intrigued...

honestly I was so demotivated that I almost didn't post this chapter

the tags are not working as you have seen me whine about it lmao but meh

I hope you guys liked this chapter!!

like comment reblog and let me know what do you think?

and like please, don't let this flop otherwise I swear I will feel like the biggest clown hahahha

god I should sleep

#choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #play choices #choices witness #witness: a bodyguard romance #cassian witness #witness mc #witness #choices fanfiction #cassian keane #cassian x mc #Cassian x OC #adira lockhart #Anushka writes #wabr #wabr choices #choices wabr

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odysseywritings · 4 years

Text

Rust and Woods

A trio of pre-teenaged classmates in the sleepy Appalachian town of Tidville (Americanized from Welsh roots) and traveled the old one-lane road in the backroads as a dare. It was a cold autumn that year, with brisk wind and gray clouds souring the kids’ moods. The orange and yellow fallen leaves surrounded the road in a sea of warm colors as the dull road was peppered with scattered leaves that crunched under their shoes. Their optimism varied among the group.

Ashley Sawyer’s brown eyes were half shut by the searing wind, but her curiosity led her onward. Her braided black hair swayed in the wind like ropes as her stout fingers readied her camera.

To her left was the taller and skinnier Danny Williams, who was the calmest one despite his disinterest. His curly black hair rose two inches off his scalp in fine-cut evenness on the sides that felt no push from the wind.

To her right was the sluggish but broad Theo Polinsky, who tagged along with dazed green eyes and disheveled blond hair. He unwrapped and chewed a piece of gum to keep himself up and moving even if it was just his jaws.

“How much more do we have to go,” Danny asked, more irritated than whining.

“There’s uh,” Theo paused. “There’s a white line in the road. When we see it, it oughta be close.”

“Exactly!” Ashley beamed. “Let’s hop to it, gentlemen.”

The two gentlemen groaned in unison. They nevertheless pressed on.

The 5-pointed yellow leaves on the road appeared as stars to the kids, giving them wonder and light. Old enough to be intrepid without that worrisome puberty getting in the way. Theo spotted the white line on the road signaling the half-mile mark, showing they were close and picked up their pace.

It was there that they turned the corner of the hill and spotted their site down a steep slope. The abandoned dull red mill had black roofing and various woodcutting tools and saws left unattended for over 3 decades. More striking to them was the amount of white and black graffiti plastered on the sides, some with poetic witticisms like “Fuck Tidvil” and other scribbles ruined by time and weather. It filled Ashley and Danny with childish dread, while Theo looked only upset at the dark windows.

“Well,” Ashley hesitated. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get in and record. What all could happen?”

“I’m going to guess anything, Ash,” Danny quipped and raised his voice. “I heard my mom talk about places like these. Where teenagers shoot up.”

“What, like hunt deer?” Theo asked.

“No, butt-munch. Like drugs.” Danny folded his arms together. “But I also want to prove my fearlessness to the others. Quite a pickle.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get as close as we can. We can record our trip and if we’re too scared, we’ll just ask my sister to edit it out.”

With no better ideas, the boys accepted this begrudgingly and slid down the hill as leaves swept away like creases in the water. Ashley went behind them and turned on the video recording after they were on equal footing with the building. The size of it increased immensely once they got close. An intimidating relic from a time they only know from their parents’ times. Ashley remember hearing about this place off and on from adults but forgot the details. The main parcel was an accident some time ago that was blamed on devil worshipers at the height of the 80s.

The blood red facade froze their feet, aided by huge windows covered in years-worth of brown and green grime. Many were shattered in almost decipherable patterns resembling spider webs. They couldn’t see anything inside outside of darkness from the lack of power. The silence was broken up by the vocal wind, sending them each back a step. Life felt alien with this structure, but the rusted blades felt like death was walking around them. Quiet, unnerving tension ended as Theo made a peep.

“If we get attacked,” he continued. “I know how to kick a guy in the balls really well.”

It got the other 2 chuckling and lightened up. Taking more steps forward, they used momentum to check the imposing red and black mill. Danny was the tallest and could peek in more easily through the windows. The grimy ones were useless, so he walked to the cracked ones and poked the shards with a twig. He could see better but his expression showed him losing color fast.

“Did you see something cool,” Ashley inquired.

Danny shook his head but kept eyeing the window. Ashley stood on her tip toes and recorded with the camera.

She surveyed the interior and found a blank darkness. No tables or wiring or tools. An abyss with a perpetual low drone, almost electrical in tone. Turning up the brightness did nothing. She thought it was broken but she raised the phone to the mill’s side with an obvious spotlight. Whether it was real or their imagination, the droning grew louder and closer. More industrial and cold.

They all took steps back, too awed to really scream. There was nothing to scream about. With heavy panting and breathing they darted to the hill. Ashley could hear her heartbeat pound from the adrenaline and struggled to think aside from keeping her camera.

Theo made it uphill quicker than the others and he reached his arm out for them. They gasped and shivered from the fear and grueling wind. Ashley turned off the recording in the middle of her sprint but she took what she got, tearing up from the sight of pure nothingness. Danny and Theo hugged her to ease her, slowly bringing her to grounded reality, even if both were as scared as her in less vocal ways with teeth clattering and tight grips.

Their movements calmed down and their breaths required less labor. Ashley sniffled and rebounded quickly enough.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said with some choking in her throat. “I hate the dark. I just can’t handle so much of it. And it felt like something was going to pop out at me!”

“It’s alright, Ash,” Theo said with lucid sincerity. “That place wigged me out too.”

“Mm-hmm,” Danny hummed. “Something was up with that dark. Even if the lights were out, we should’ve seen something. It’s still daylight.”

She sniffled and smiled at the two, causing them them to smile back. The boys took a look at the footage, and started ragging on each other in boyish fashion over the most scared. Amused by Danny’s animated gestures and Theo’s deadpan retorts, Ashley felt comfortable again. She nudged the boys to keep walking before it hit dusk while they continued taunting each other.

Ashley walked behind the boys normally but her peripheral vision caught something. The mill itself stayed the same, but a window did not. There was a white figure standing inside. A pale specter with a white helmet and glancing eyes. But she saw the nose and teeth removed of flesh, revealing holes and maybe black gums. She touched Danny’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” she alerted the two. “There- there’s someone in there! He looked like a skeleton with eyes popping out!”

The two were worried but unamused. They went back to look again but saw no one.

“Look, Ash,” Danny groaned. “I know you’re scared, but you don’t need to say stuff like that. It’s fine if you’re freaked out by that place. But there’s nothing there. We already proved that.”

Theo nodded and yawned. “Yeah, let’s just forget it. We got a recording of the place, and the kids will know we went to it and looked in. We’ll just say the mill was locked and that’s all we got to see.”

Ashley fumed at the suspicion, but she knew there would be no use persuading them. They marched on, still weary from the uphill run. Danny and Theo resumed talking about a cartoon show starring superheroes and how implausible the plots were. She tried her best to follow along, but her mind went back to the white face among black. Thoughts on what happened if they stayed were growing and only stopped temporarily by the boys’ chatter. It was the sanity of togetherness that anchored her in that walk home.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #horror #Appalachian gothic #njm #my writing

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denki-kami-lightning · 5 years

Text

Dabihawks writing shit

Hawks’ writing guide:

https://waxwingedhawks.tumblr.com/post/185881407778/guide-to-writing-hawks (Go follow @waxwingedhawks)

and a few things I want to add:

1: As ive said before, Hawks’ food addiction is probably just his coping mechanism. Stress eating, yknow? I mean think about all the stress this poor boy is under. he has to find some way to deal with it, and it doesnt take a genius to see that way is food.

2: how long it takes for his wings to grow back. Just a convenient reminder. To quote the wiki, “When he uses all his feathers, it takes at least two days to grow back entirely, which can be a considerable weakness.”

3: Just how fast he can go; “By his own admission, Hawks' strong side isn't strength but his phenomenal speed. He was able to reach Endeavor's attackers from the top of a skyscraper, in the blink of an eye (0,5 s) which makes 375 - 400 km/h (233 - 248 m/h) and he did not even seem trying, which implies that he can go faster. Hawks solves most fights so rapidly that his sidekicks can't keep up with him so he usually just leaves the aftermaths of his battles to them, while he rushes to the next case.”

4: This handy little trick that I havent seen in many fics: “Vocal Espionage: Hawks is able to use one of his feathers to distinguish sounds from the minute it changes in the air, allowing him to decode conversations and vocal information from sensing the vibrations. Especially after leaving the room or increasing the distance, this technique makes him a dangerous spy.”

5: The fact that he’s actually a little baby “Hawks holds the record for the youngest Pro Hero, as well as the fastest for a Pro Hero to become one of the top 10 Pro Heroes on the Hero billboard chart Japan.”

6: The fact that his nickname is LITERALLY PRECIOUS MAN

7: He never attended U.A and some of yall forget this

8: He’s actually a very complex character, and he knows his death is coming, so dont forget to write that. https://linkspooky.tumblr.com/post/188365405175/when-the-cherry-blossoms-fall (Follow @linkspooky too)

9: My personal {Educated} headcanon; He can’t really handle too much loud noise, so he wears those headphones.

10: My other headcanon: Hawks is kinda adhd.

and theres no guide for Dabi yet, so ill make one for you:

1: Dabi is very aloof, casually confident and kinda emotionless at times. So you really have to write him like he doesn’t give a rats ass about anything... Except for Endeavor. Anytime Endeavor or any real mention of family is part of the situation, Dabi is always mad and unhinged (At least that’s what I’ve observed from the Manga).

2: Dabi is actually kinda useless:

https://echodrops.tumblr.com/post/177149516011/is-dabi-just-terrible-at-being-a-villain (Go follow @echodrops)

3: You still have to remember that he’s a villain, and that he enjoys playing that role. In the wiki it says that “Despite his usual expressionless behavior, Dabi finds joy in establishing himself as a villain fighting against what he believes to be false heroes. He takes pleasure in taunting heroic figures, students, and Pro Heroes alike. He even takes sadistic pleasure from the pain he inflicts on others, including the people he's murdered.”

4: His intelligence level varies a lot. The wiki tends to portray him as some kind of manipulative genius, while his stats are pretty low. So I guess that’s up to you

5: He still shares Stain’s ideology, and probably looks up to his image as some kind of vague guideline. I’ve seen so many people forget this when writing fanfictions and it kills meee

6: Touya ‘died’ while he was in middle school, so he would’ve been about 13-15 years old. {Still a baby} Also, it’s been noted that this happened shortly after Rei was admitted to the mental hospital.

7: Dabi is slim and sickly. So maybe you should have other people take notice.

8: POINT OUT HIS FIGHTING POSTURE. I cant stress enough how much i love when people write this. he has the same fighting motions as Shoto, and you shouldnt be afraid to have other characters notice.

9: This is just a popular headcanon, but almost everyone seems to agree that Dabis hands are cold. {Got it from his mom obviously}

10: Dabi’s nerves are absolutely obliterated under his scars, so he cant feel anything. Pain or soft touches.

_______________________________________________________________________

Ok now that that’s out of the way, lets focus on the Dabihawks aspect of this;

1: Unless you’re skipping the getting together part of their relationship, you need to start with its roots, which to quote the wiki “It is unknown if Dabi sees through Hawks’ lies, but it's hinted that he's still observing him. Their relationship is mocking, dishonest and resembles a constant power struggle. As far as is known, Dabi is the only villain who may suspect Hawks of being a double-agent.” So dont forget that they didnt get along at first.

2: If Dabi finds out tha Hawks is a double agent, it can go a bunch of different ways. He can get mad and feel betrayed {Angsty, and also kinda overdone}, He can cut off contact without much warning {His feelings can be up to you}, He can be a bit surprised{Or not} and be ok with it {Haven’t seen this one done yet}, or my personal favorite He can just kinda be like obviously and just string him along, giving him false information {Imagine Hawks feeling betrayed by the man he was supposed to be betraying. Like the tables were switched the whole time or something. Ironic right?}

3: If youre writing smut, I think its been made pretty clear that Dabi has some kind of pain kink. {Sorry Hawks}

4: This ones kind of just a writing tip in general, but i like seeing other characters thrown in too. Not just the main ship, you know? I’m pretty sure it isn’t just me either.

5: The height difference isn’t that big. {Sad I know.} Hes only really about an inch taller than Hawks {Making him the shortest Todoroki son.}

6: If you’re writing smut Dabi would probably play with Hawks’ feathers i.e gently{Or not. Up to you} Biting them, licking them, or whispering into them.

7: Their names:

https://griffinmcelroyspisskink.tumblr.com/post/187357377193/with-dabi-it-almost-is-a-form-of-power-that-we (Last one go follow @griffinmcelroyspisskink)

#Dabihawks #Hotwings #Dabi #Hawks #bnha #mha #writing advice #Dabi writing guide

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boobiemom · 4 years

Photo

Allow me to formally introduce my wonderfully busty booby boi, Haru-kun!

This piece was done by the ever fantastic Sealguy, over on twitter.

Since tumblr may downsize the image, you can see the full sized one here. Also, since the extra text here is a big wall, I’ll put his profile under a cut.

He's an energetic, boobtastic femboy who is the face and voice of a huge fashion and cosmetics company, called B ♂ I, aka "Boi". One of the products his company is most famous for is the Nanite Silicone & Saline implant system, as well as Nanite-enhanced "Real Sensation" Breast Forms, the latter of which, when attached to the skin with the matching gel, allows you to feel the fake boobs as if they were your own!

Haru-kun also developed a mobile app that controls the implants to inflate or deflate via nanite manipulation to just about possible size, limits only given by the wearer! Size Limit upgrades are a one-time payment based on personal income. What a nice guy! Rumour says that Haru-kun is related to a certain white fox woman, who is known to utilize magical science for various purposes... how mysterious.~

Beauty and youth like a living doll have given the boy a lot of attention in the cosmetics industries, and he admits that the nanites he uses for this company he also freely uses and modifies in his own time, which have since made him eternally youthful in appearance. One of his many mottos in life is "Plastic is Fantastic~!", which of course is one of the few slogans B ♂️ I is known for. Despite his appearance, Haru-kun is roughly 20 years old, give or take a year, though he appears no older than 17, the product of genetics and nanite enhancements. Another rumour in the naughtier tabloids state Haru-kun indulges in Sexdoll TF play... After all, Plastic is Fantastic.~

Stats:

Full name: Katou Haru (Surname / Given name)

Age: About 20, appears physically younger however.

Height: 5' (5'6 with normal heels, 5'10 with the more extreme ones)

Weight: "I won't tell~!" [ He's about 56kg (123.4 lbs) + 7kg (15.4 lbs) for boob weight on average though that can increase ]

Ethnicity: Japanese

Favourite Food: Smoked Salmon w/ Cream Cheese Sushi (Philadelphia roll), Inarizushi (Fried tofu pouches filled with sweet rice), pink salmon, and steaks.

A few weird and/or fun facts!

- Haru-kun's surname only came to me as I was writing this bio, and is the name of a doujin artist I love, Katou Jun. Cute traps, femboys, and shemales all around, mph!

- Haru-kun's origin started back when I finally picked up Pokémon Silver and Crystal for my 3DS a little over a year ago or so. I thought "If I'm gonna be playing a boy, I'm gonna be a cute femboy with big fake tits and date the red-head rival". Thus, Haru-kun was born as a joke character that became real, just like Nagisa-nii! How about that!

- In Pokémon, Haru-kun's signature Pokémon are a Feraligatr named Nagisa, and outside of gen2, a shiny male Gardevoir named Mitsuru, which is Wally's Japanese name! He's a Poképhiliac, as one would expect. He often calls his Feraligatr "Daddy gator"... he's lewd.

- Haru-kun is also an extension of myself, hitting my desire to be "a cute shota-esque femboy and feminized into a sissy bimboy slut. As such, he's basically my boy self, despite being so girly. "I''m totally a guy, duh!" denial and such is cute as fuck.

#My OCs #Haru-kun #I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAA #I'M SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO GET THIS DONE~!

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rika-kihira · 5 years

Text

Rika Kihira x Gutto sports

A while ago Rika appeared in a Japanese tv program. The program was pretty long and unfortunately a full video of it isn’t available at the moment. However the program, cut in 6 parts, was uploaded on drive and translated by @juronom on twitter.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Translation of the most interesting parts, done by Juro, please do not repost without credit. Part 1: Gutto Sport presenters commented that Rika is smaller in height than what her aura gives off. They ask Takeshi Honda and Akiko Suzuki about their shared skating experience with Rika.

T: We skated together at Kandai rink, so I meet her almost every day. I just met her yesterday too.

R: I lost count how many times I greet you already *laugh*

TH: She’s like *comes up to me* “Konnichiwa” (Hello), then skate away, then come back and “Konnichiwa” again.

A questionnaire with Rika on what she thought was her best weapon?

Upper left: Maintain positivity Lower left: No edge error Right: 3A (no 1)

The secret of her 3A:

- “The type that hasn’t been seen until now”-Takeshi Honda

- Comparison with legendary 3A by Japanese ladies:

o Midori Ito: height that can be comparable to men’s 3A

o Mao Asada: beautiful air position (vertical jumping posture)

o Rika Kihira: quick rotation, clear-cut (neat, sharp) 3A => allows her landing to be relaxed&free

On what she used as reference for her jumps:

“In the past, I used to refer to male skaters’ method of jumping quads, etc, carefully observe them. Then I always looked at Mao-chan’s amazing 3A as well. Recently, I rely on observation of) my own best condition, how much of the intensity of (practice) it can handle. Something like “When my muscles are at this condition, I should practice increase the intensity of my practice (practice many times).” On the other hand, if on that day, my jumps are off, I’d stop and let my body return (to its good condition) properly.”

Physical check: the secret why Rika can rotate so fast?

According to Prof Sakurai Tomono- researching on the mechanism of athletes’ muscles: her hip and thigh muscles can contract quickly.

Experiment for Rika: measuring the distance of one’s bunny hop from a kneeling position.

Average for boys: 41cm; girls: 20cm

Rika’s distance was 65cm

Part 2

Another secret: Rika is very “obsessed” with her skates (including blades)

She brought the pair she was using at the moment to the set.

Each of Her skating boots, (like other skaters’), is meticulously customized. When the skates first arrived, she had to adjust the blades’ position and angle, how much they lean forward or backward, towards one side or another etc, by herself carefully. She couldn’t say she could adjust them to their perfect condition, but she tried her best to tune them to as convenient a position as possible for her skating, millimeter by millimeter. Not only the position, but the gap between boots and blades are also controlled. Even if the gap is one 1mm wider or narrower, her skating can be affected greatly, to the extent that she could either do 30 3As in one day or none with the boots.

It takes more than 2 weeks to get used to a new pair.

Presenter asked why she couldn’t keep using the same pair.

It’s because the leather will soften, especially at the area around laces. Rika said when there’re some leather materials coming off around that area, she can’t jump at all. She changed boots around every 3 months, and since the boots take 3 weeks to be produced, she couldn’t change to a new pair immediately, and must notice when the pair in use shows some signs of softening.

The presenters need to stop Rika before she talks forever about her skating boots-her obsession.

Rika: “And then, recently, this part…” Everyone laughs: “She honestly can stop”

Questionnaire with Rika:

What does Rika have on her mind: 100% figure skating.

Takeshi Honda’s question: “Rika, is that really ok?”

It’s about her socks.

Skaters generally stick certain types of specially made socks produced by 1 brand when competing, but Rika is ok with any types of socks and doesn’t mind if her socks are ankle-length or longer. She just grabbed a random pair if she forgot her socks. (t/n: she’s actually using the kind of cute socks sold at tutu-ana (1000yen for 3 pairs) or gift shops lollll)

Akiko Suzuki’s question:

Akiko noticed that at ice shows, before eating, Rika always quickly takes photo before eating, but not in the manner suitable for posting food photos on SNS. Akiko thinks she did it to calculate nutrition value.

Rika: “After a day, I calculate my total calories intake. Combini food has calories value on them, but I don’t know the values for every separate item, so I took photos of everything, then calculate the amount later”.

Presenter: Is it hard to maintain (athletic) body form?

Rika: “Yes, I try as hard as I can. Even if I lose weight (or gain weight). If I lose too much weight, I can’t jump.”

Presenter: As a 17-year-old girl, you may want to eat things like sweets, drink tapioca tea etc…?

Rika: “Well technically I can, but when I eat things like cake or tapioca, which still adds to the amount of calories intake, meat, or such is still important, so I need to eat food that can be converted into energy correctly. If I eat cake or tapioca, my diet’s efficiency will be tampered with.”

Presenter: You can’t even after winning?

Rika: “But still, I still eat the food that can be converted to energy…”

Presenter: “Pizza and cola?”

Rika: *shake her head vigorously*

“If I sleep with an unfilled stomach, I feel like my muscles aren’t there. There are times when I was thinking about whether to get dinner or not, or just only eat the meat properly (not carbs), and then I felt like my muscles decrease, so I concluded that I must properly eat dinner anyways.”

Part 3

Coach Hamada rating Rika:

“She is very disciplined. Her practice ability is very good, and she always has the drive to improve herself. Not in a reckless but proper way.” Scoring (from upper left going right)

- Comprehensiveness (4)

- Linguistic ability (2): “I wish she could handle English questions in interview sessions or press-conferences. Since she is competing internationally, it’d be nice if her linguistic ability could be improved. Also, she may have more and more international friends, and international fans.”

- Performing ability (4)

- Decisiveness (4)

- Athleticism (5)

- Narcissist power(3) (t/n: lol what =)) but sorry it wasn’t mentioned at all)

- Talkativeness (2): “She doesn’t talk much. I’ve never heard her jokes”

- Humor (2)

- Girliness(4): “She has good sense of fashion, how to coordinate clothes.”

- Considerateness (4): “At ice shows, she always immediately wears and takes photos with all the presents from fans. She wants to send her gratitude to fans, and tell everyone she is really happy with the gifts, which she can’t do often.”

Rika: “Yes, I’m bad (at English). There are many times I want to tell (international fans) “I’m very happy that you support me”, but I don’t know how to. So I just *raise both hands and wave nervously while saying “hai (yes)” and nodding*”

Figure skating’s This and That – presented by Satoko Miyahara.

Top 3 Figure skating truths by Satoko

1. I’m very embarrassed when messing up the stsq.

2. I fight time difference (jet lag) every day.

3. I only forget important things. (Satoko’s story about losing her Olympics ID)

On practicing with Satoko:

Rika: “I practice with her almost every day.”

Presenter: So do you talk?

Rika: “Yes, but for things irrelevant to skating. Satoko normally said things like “I forgot my CD >_<”. Satoko-chan is really interesting”

Figure skating truths by Rika

1. What does she think throughout a 4-min performance?

“There’re many things I think about. For instance: “The axel is coming up next”; “It’s bad if I overdo this part”; “I can’t miss this axel”; “If I made mistake on this jump, all the jumps I landed until now will become meaningless”.

Asked about whether she had entered a “zone”, where she wasn’t thinking anything but everything went well.

“In the past, that happened to me a lot too, but recently, sometimes I don’t think when performing, and there’s excitement too. However, when looking at and understand the real event happening, and thinking that “I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I’ve made until now” …then (that thought) appears in front of me, and in my head, then I’d think that “I don’t want to this (repeat the mistake)” and reconfirm the jumps. When I jump, it’s unconscious reflex, but I think about my surrounding, my own conditions or even my nervousness.”

Presenter: It’s the positive feelings of being able to see everything.

Rika: “Yes, it’s like that”.

Part 4

Choreography challenge with Ryouga Haruhi (t/n: Ryouga is known for playing male role in Takarazuka Revenue, a Japanese all-female musical theater troupe)

The program discussed the role of expression.

Presenter asked Rika what she does as supplement to her expression in figure skating.

Rika: “I do classical ballet around 2-3 hours/week, and I also go to dance school”

Presenter: Dance school? Like rock dance and hiphop?

Rika: “Yes, things like hiphop.”

*show vid of her practicing dance in the US *

Rika: “This is the dance lesson I had in the US, but normally, I have dance lessons that use more hip-hop-like music and more strong movements.”

Everyone complimented on her (and Satoko’s) beautiful movement.

Rika wanted to ask Ryoga about the way she and Takarazuka actresses use their expression, how they pose, and the angle of their faces.

Ryoga explained that expressions showed of male and female roles are opposite: soft and flexible vs cool, then she proceeded to give “posing” lesson. She showed the movement patterns of: female role, lower-class male role and upper-class male role.

Rika was asked to do the movement of “lower-class man” then “upper-class man” (the one with hand on her face) and she managed very well, receiving compliments from the presenters. Part 5

About the Nobeyama Kougen training camp, known as the place where “Golden-eggs” of Japan figure skating are assembled. Notable alumni: Mao Asada, Yuzuru Hanyu, Takeshi Honda, Shizuka Arakawa, Rika Kihira.

The training camp is 4 days long, with various training sessions from 8am-9.30pm. The camp’s purpose is to evaluate and search for skaters with potential and to check their living attitude as well, like how they conform to curfews, etc. Rika went to the camp 3 years ago, and she said it was very tough.

Rika: “(Being there), you have to worry about whether you will be seeded or if you will be assigned to any competition, and then there’ll be new comers…so in every aspect, you have no way but show you are the best one. Even off-ice physical checking is so tough, squatting/ running around etc, that on the next day, I can’t even move my legs or climb the stairs, but still have to perform programs.”

Presenter: Do you want to go back?

Rika: “Maybe”

Akiko said being there makes you realize she was hand-picked from among all skating children in Japan. That really changes her working attitude and elevates her determination.

Video about legendary 3A by Midori Ito, done 1 minute before the end of her program at 1992 Olympics. The 3A has become the trail-blazer for future generations.

Rika: “I don’t think I can do 3A in the latter half at all. It’s already so tough to have it as the 2nd or 3rd jump but I don’t think I’ve ever tried jumping it 1 minute before the end of the program.”

Part 6

Rika’s impression of Midori Ito: “I experienced challenging 3A but failing in competitions. The first time I met her, she comforted me: “Ahh 3A is very difficult. Though it’s difficult, I really support you”, such kind actions.”

Presenter: But you haven’t got any chance to talk to her leisurely

Rika: “No, I haven’t”

Presenter: Let’s do it now ^^

Rika: “Heeehhh”

Midori Ito appeared: “You’ve worked hard” (to Rika)

“I’m so happy. You even remember the 1st time we met. That makes me so happy.”

Rika: “I do remember”

Midori: “Really?”

“It’s amazing. You can jump it (3A) stably now” to Rika.

Midori said she contemplated whether to do 3Lz or 3A when she was spinning in that program, then decided to do 3A. She asked Rika: “If you made mistake on the 1st 3A, do you think about the 2nd time?”

Rika: ”Well, but I’ve not thought about it in the latter half, really, (3A) in the latter half it’s sugoii…”

Midori’s secret for her super high 3A is to “skate with all her power at top speed”. Because she entered 3A at a very high speed, she can get to that height. She described that method of jumping 3A is like: “Doing long jump (a athletic sport) but rotating at the same time” (t/n: Rika’s face loll)

Rika said she didn’t jump 3A at top speed because she can’t control her axis.

Midori: “However, in my generation, we just focus on doing our jumps at high speed, but in Kihira-san’s generation, the programs have to be beautiful as whole, and in such programs, there is 3A. It’s a generation that (3A) isn’t effective if the programs aren’t beautiful itself. It’s amazing that there are beautiful programs but at the same time allow to do 3A efficiently.” *looks at Rika* Rika is very happy to receive advice from Midori. Rika: “With this experience, I will try harder and harder every day in order to create a sense of stability. Then, I must perform quads cleanly too.”

Midori’s advice to Rika: “She’s very serious. She is already going forward while staying fixated to her goal. So, *looks at Rika* try to keep yourself in good health. You can’t suddenly jump triples or quads. You can’t say you’ll be free of injury at all, but you have to make compromises with injury and your body conditions. When you’re injured, there’re things you can’t do, so..but then, it’s vital to harmonize things you haven’t done and your techniques. It’ll be nice if you can try to balance those things. I hope that you’ll try your best.”

Rika’s aims: “This season, my first goal is to aim for the podium at the World championship, which I couldn’t do last season. Then, I will make my best effort every day towards my biggest dream of winning the Beijing Olympics.”

#rika kihira #midori ito #Akiko Suzuki #translations #Interviews #interview #gutto sports

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