#do i even want to know what happens in scarlet blaze

[iturbide]

oof, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.

!! WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS for AG !!

at some point after the timeskip, dimitri and edelgard are fighting for control of arianrhod when thales, having been biding his time since he was ousted two years ago, interrupts, pulls out a crest stone, and somehow uses it to forcibly transform her into her hegemon form from AM. she proceeds to wreck mindless havoc on the fort with dimitri and co. barely escaping.

afterwards, it's shown thales retreated with edelgard in tow (having somehow un-transformed her?) and she's… clearly not herself, uncharacteristically silent with a slightly terrified expression in her portrait. a little later we find out that duke aegir's been appointed regent by thales given the emperor's "condition"—much to the complete detestation of the adrestrian countryside (having fallen to ruin from what, at best, seems to be severe neglect). hubert and ferdinand are reportedly MIA and not heard from again for the rest of the story (they never say they’re dead, but given we know hubert, at least, would literally die before letting edelgard come to any harm, it really doesn’t bode well).

the next time we see edelgard on the battlefield, it’s as mouthpiece by duke aegir for morale and her sentences are notably stilted and simple. then she tells us during the bonus chapter where she's temporarily fully cognizant again (don’t ask—its contrived so that the chapter is consistent with the other two routes) that after un-transforming, her body's been more or less on autopilot while her consciousness has been looking on from the inside, unable to do anything.

during the final battle she's being compelled to fight at thales' side and he revives her a couple times throughout the fight to act as a meatshield (though not transforming her for it??? we never actually get to fight hegemon edelgard) afterwards, when he's dead, she's just kneeling there on the ground looking absolutely lost and, having seemingly regressed into the mind of her twelve year old self, refers to dimitri by her old childhood nickname for him in confusion. to which dimitri is shocked before—in perhaps one of the most bafflingly out-of-character moments in the game, which is saying something—turning away and leaving her there without a word to go reconvene with both his army and the church and alliance forces.

the war is then said to still going on (despite the fact that the adrestria is in shambles, just about every prominent figure is either dead, defeated, or otherwise unaccounted for and the emperor who started it is now mentally impaired) and claude is implied to be about to make a move against the central church. the end.

note that this is the better of AG's two endings and, arguably, the best ending of all three routes (based on both the body count and the fact claude is actually in character for almost the entirety of it).

so. yeah. the writers would literally rather have edelgard outwardly reduced to the mindset of a child and inwardly living out her worst nightmare trapped inside of her own body than for the route to end with her in a bad light. which, for me, is more disrespectful to her character than just killing her outright.

okay I am primarily posting it because I need this to be on my blog for reference purposes instead of stashed in my inbox or lost to the ether but just

good gods

I honestly didn’t think that the character assassination could get much worse after what I’d heard about Golden Wildfire but somehow this ramps it up again you’re absolutely right this is utterly disrespectful for Edelgard’s character

And it doesn’t even make the plot contrivance any easier to stomach.  Thales isn’t responsible for Edelgard’s transformation into her Hegemon form in Three Houses: she transforms seemingly of her own volition as a means of trying to achieve enough power to stop Dimitri and turn the tides of this war (and possibly to clue Dimitri in on the fact that the other power at play alongside the Empire likely won’t fall with her -- a silent warning to stay vigilant for Those Who Slither, who are otherwise unaddressed in Azure Moon).  Thales is dead when she takes on her Hegemon form in Three Houses, and she never uses that form in other routes...so if he had that power, why didn’t he use it in Three Houses?  Given that the Twisted were ousted early, the capacity had to have been implanted well before that, meaning it had to have been possible in Three Houses, so including it here but giving Edelgard a ‘happy ending’ in Three Houses when she openly went against the Twisted at Arianrhod.  They could have -- and arguably should have -- let her finish off Rhea and then exerted full control over her.  It makes the whole CF ending reek of lies, knowing they could just do that the whole time.

(And this is coming from me, who thinks that CF’s endcards came up too rosy given the hard road she likely had ahead after conquering her way through two independent nations.  Even I wanted to see Edelgard do something that wasn’t ‘get leashed to Thales will and forced into the same role of puppet Emperor that her father was chained to.’)

I had heard so many interesting things about Azure Gleam being a good route with solid characterizations, but if they’re doing that to Edelgard I’m starting to question my sanity about what makes for a good route.

[lustlovehart]

Cease The Blaze

A/n: Takes place a little after “Scarlet In Black”.

Summary: [Yandere] Blade isn’t so sure anymore whether or not you are safe anymore, not even from yourself. It brings a question to his mind, should he try to save you? Or should he watch as you crumble by your own hand? He already knows the answer, and it’s definitely not the latter.

Warnings: Reader is wounded, Possessiveness on Blades part, Burning, Implied Imprisonment, Kinda angsty, Blade desperately wants to protect reader but doesn’t know how anymore

Blades eyes stare the deepest holes into your soul, his fingers wrapping the once pristine white bandages around your chest, his fingers grazing against bare skin, leaving a tingly feeling through your nerves.

"You really didn't have to do this Blade, I could've-" His fingers tighten significantly, though you don’t think he was trying to hurt you. “Gh..! I could’ve wrapped myself up…”

“No, you don’t need too. I’m doing it.” You don’t reply to him, only looking down at his hands as they worked, you didn’t dare to look into his eyes, they’d just serve as a further means to shrink down in embarrassment. When he finally finishes bandaging your wounds back up, he sits right next to you on the rock he made you rest on.

It was night where you were rested, the fire that laid in front of you burning a brilliant flame, it’s too bad you should never touch it.

“So, I thought you were in another solar system… Do you have some sort of third sense for me specifically?” Your eyes finally make contact with his own, smiling a little in hopes of lightening the tense mood with a joke.

Majority of the time he just looks at you, but there are a few instances where you can notice a tiny little quirk in his lips. You guess that isn’t one of those times though, with the way he replies in his usual straight face.

“If that’s what you wanna call it.”

“So you’re admitting to just magically knowing when i’m in danger?”

He lets out a firm ‘mm’ sound to the question. You assume he’s only agreeing to stop you from asking anymore, but even then it makes you laugh a tiny bit.

“Don’t know whether or should be creeped out or thankful? Kinda comforting knowing i’ll have you come rescue me whenever I need it.” For a moment you notice Blades eyebrows furrow, the moment once more going back to a stifling aura.

In his own mind, he finally thought about it, he had been too preoccupied with the feeling left in his chest to notice it himself, what happens when he can’t come to your aide? What if someone else caused harm to you and he couldn’t stop it. No, perhaps even worse, what if you cause your own demise?

After he had finally found something in his eternal damnation he enjoyed, is he really willing to let it go that easily?

“Not always. Don’t be so naive with your thinking. I’m not an aeon who will be the back of a chair you can easily lean on. What happens to you when you lay back and there is nothing to keep you from falling?”

“Wha…? What are you talking about…?”

“You fall [Name]. You fall and get hurt.”

You’re not too sure on how to reply to him, so you go back to gazing at the sparks of the blaze. A few minutes pass by, no maybe not even a few, half an hour had went on, neither of you speaking a word.

The inferno dimmed slightly, yet the fire felt even hotter than it did before. Your palms reach out without even thinking, finally feeling the burn before Blade bandaged had firmly grabbed onto your wrist.

“Do not touch that.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

The two of you don’t say anything else, your eyes only making contact with the inferno again. It was no longer as pretty as it once was, in fact, all it did was burn your eyes. Not Blades though, he wasn’t looking at the fire, he was only looking at you. Hesitantly, his hand grabs onto your shoulder pulling you in. His movements were stiff, yet you let him.

“I don’t want you to suffer.”

“What? Like-” you only stop yourself before talking more. ‘Like you?’ It was messed up, but you were starting to get sick of the vagueness in his words.

“Last time I saw you, you were covered in blood, not even a speck of your regular clothes could be seen. You shouldn’t worry about me being the one who’s ‘suffering’.”

“It’s blurred together, everything. The only thing that isn’t fogged by scarlet in my memories is my past.”

“Why don’t you revisit that past then?”

“That it is no longer there for me to revisit.”

Hot. The fire is burning you again. You blink a couple of times looking back at the man, no, the weapon perhaps?

“I have something else in front of me that isn’t tattered in bloodshed, I’m not willing to loose that.” He pulls out a red ribbon from his side, taking care in wrapping it around your wrist, the color reminds you off his eyes, and it smelled faintly of strawberries. When he finishes it up, he had shaped it into a tiny bow on your wrist, it’s kinda cute.

“What did you mean by ‘not willing to loose that?’ By the way? Is it another one of your cryptic sayings?”

“No. I mean it truly this time.”

For once in the moment, he doesn’t look at you, while all you did was look at him, confusion littered around you face.

After than neither of you spoke a word, until you dozed off, the last thing in your vision being the way the fire had went out, as if it had never been there, the only remains of it being the ashes it left in its wake. Blades calloused hands were still on your body, like before, he feared if he let go for even a moment you would be gone too.

Carefully he lifts you up, carrying you through the plain of nature that had surrounded you. In moments like this, he would always return you to the comfort of your bed, never leaving a trace of him behind for you to find.

“So Bladie, are you finally gonna bring them along with us? It has been a thought of yours for awhile has it not?” Her voice was undoubtedly the most recognizable thing about her, that and her blank eyes that always seemed to hold no fear. “The night I was waiting for you two, I expected you to bring them along right then. Why now hmmm?”

“They’re not safe. That won’t work.”

“I thought it would be their choice whether or not that was okay.”

“No. I want them to stay. If it means keeping them away from themself even, i’ll do it.”

His footsteps clank against the steel floor of the Stellaron Hunters ship, Kafka following close behind.

“Is that enough for you Bladie?” Her tone is of the usual, a bit condescending and playful, yet it makes him pause, if even for just a brief moment.

“If it means even a minutes escape from my suffrage.” She smiles at him, closing her eyes as they continue strolling through.

She knows what he said isn’t true. It won’t take long before his greed for you takes over, craving for more of your warmth as he starves for whatever you can give him. Maybe if he had taken you sooner it wouldn’t hurt so bad to watch you reach for home in front of him.

When you wake all you’ll remember is the way the fire had felt, the final feeling of the outside you can ever feel for yourself. In your last moments, you wished you had touched that flame, even if it meant being burnt.

———

Gonna be completely honest, I actually don’t enjoy the way this came out, but i wanted to highlight the softer side Blade has for Reader? While also showing how much he wants to keep them in his life. It definitely could’ve been better, but if it’s that bad, i’ll just rewrite it another time.

[the-lonelybarricade]

A Blaze in the Dark - (11/13)

Summary: On the eve of her wedding, knowing nothing about her husband besides his apparent disinterest in his soon-to-be wife, Elain uses a spell to meet her true love in her dreams.

Buckle up because this chapter gets spicy 🌶

Read on AO3 ・Series Masterlist・Previous Chapter

-

The ceramic vase shattering against the marble floor was a distant, far-away sound.

Elain found it reminiscent of submerging her head in a bathtub, the way she was enveloped in warmth while the details of the outside world became muted. Blurry. If she tried to focus away from the heat blooming on her skin, she could pick out an awareness of some things. Like the water spilling over the console table, seeping into her skirts and dripping over the edge, where it collected into a puddle atop the fragments of the vase below.

Her damp skirts may have been of greater concern to her, where they not presently bunched over her hips, thrown across the table as haphazardly as the bouquet of scarlet geraniums that had once occupied the space she was sitting in.

She’d handpicked those flowers with Vassa yesterday morning. They still had plenty of life in them, and she would need to scold Lucien for acting with such haste in discarding them.

Another time. Currently, she—

“Lucien!”

The gasp was involuntary, as was the arch of her spine, her body taken over by some ravenous creature that demanded to be closer, to be touching him, especially when his teeth grazed over her collarbone.

“I told you what would happen if you misbehaved,” he said, flicking his eyes to her face only briefly, just long enough to let the authority of his words linger, pressing against her as firmly as his strong body.

“I have never—” she sucked in a sharp breath as his mouth closed over her breast. Her nipples hardened beneath his lashing tongue, sending ripples of heated pleasure coursing through her. “Never— ah, misbehaved… in my life.”

That used to be the case, at least. Her governess had always asserted that Elain was the most perfect of her sisters. And by that she’d meant the most quiet, the most restrained, the most obedient.

At this, Lucien lifted his head, releasing her from his torment however briefly. Elain couldn’t help but shiver at his expression, the dark hunger within it. She held herself still, like she was standing in the line of a predator’s gaze, as he drew his lips to her ear and said in a rich, low voice, “I thought you’d know better than to lie to me, sweet wife. If you’ve never misbehaved, then tell me what you’re doing at this very second?”

He paused, waiting for her to answer. The sound of her panting filled the silence, and she wondered how he was so perfectly composed. How she didn’t hear a sound from him, despite how his mouth hovered just beside her ear.

“I’m sitting atop a table,” she said, tugging pointedly at the arm he’d looped beneath her knee, keeping her spread open before him. “Because my husband—”

“There you go again,” he chided.

She cried out, knowing what was coming even before his teeth sunk into her neck as retribution, followed by the slow drag of his tongue to soothe away the hurt. She squirmed in his hold and he made a deep, rumbling sound in the back of his throat, something similar to laughter but lazier, more taunting.

“You can be so petulant when you want to be. Where’s my good girl?”

This was a side of her husband she hadn’t been anticipating. He’d been so sweet, so gentle the first time they’d made love that she hadn’t known there could be this other side of him. The Lucien who was firmer, more demanding, but underneath always, always, loving. And when he discovered how much she enjoyed his firmer touch, well…

Lucien’s hand—the one that wasn’t holding her leg captive—raised from where he had been stroking her inner thigh, his fingers perpetually creeping just close enough to where she wanted him, but never any further.

Now, they wrapped around her throat.

“Remind me what I told you, wife.”

His lips returned to her neck as he waited, covering her skin in small nips and licks that made it extraordinarily difficult to focus on his question. Particularly when he ground his hips forward, using his clothed erection to offer her the barest amount of friction. Only to retreat when Elain pushed forward, desperate to chase the small fraction of pleasure.

Ducked against her neck, she could feel his lips pull into a smile, insufferably pleased at every twitch and huff he elicited from her. Initially she tried to restrain them, if only so he couldn’t have the satisfaction, but all that seemed to achieve was making the game more interesting to Lucien.

And now, with his fingers tightening at her throat, she knew he was growing impatient.

“We have to be quiet,” she said, repeating his earlier instruction. There was a strange thrill in the sensation of her words straining against his palm. “Otherwise someone will come down this hall and catch us.”

Lucien hummed in approval. “And wouldn’t you be mortified if someone were to catch you like this? So indecent, so eager to let your husband fuck you over a table.” He clicked his tongue, but she knew he loved seeing her like this. Knew because of the stark affection in his voice as he added, “Then everyone would know that sweet Elain Vanserra isn’t as prim and proper as she pretends.”

The shaky breath that parted her lips was one of relief. She relished knowing she could be like this with him. Bold and reckless and willing to take what she wanted, even if that risked being seen for who she was.

“I’ll be good,” she said, tilting her head back to expose more of her throat to him. Pliant, but only because she wanted to be. Docile, but only because she was in full control of who she did and did not obey. “I’ll be quiet.”

As a reward, Lucien kissed her temple and murmured against her skin, sweet as melted sugar, “Good girl.”

Elain’s eyes fluttered shut. His praise lit something deep and warm inside her. It was more than a craving. It was an addiction.

He knew its effect on her, knew how to drip each dose of it to keep her wound and wanting, willing to do anything he asked just so she might hear him whisper it again. For now, he chucked and offered her one more sweet kiss against her brow before instructing, “Stay still for me.”

That was one direction that she was never very good at following. Even as a little girl, when her governess would make each of them stand with proper posture and recite poetry, she would always be reprimanded for fidgeting with her skirts. Feyre used to accuse their governess of creating rules with the purpose of setting them up for failure.

Now, Elain wondered if her husband was just as cruel.

His hand returned between her legs, broad fingers curving in until they brushed over the arousal coating her inner thigh. Elain took a deep breath, recalling how they’d ended up here.

I have a secret, she’d said, giggling and a little bit drunk on the wine they’d shared at dinner.

Oh? One that you might trust on your husband’s ears?

She’d stopped and pulled him down an unlit hall that she knew was scarcely used, even by servants. There wasn’t a single candle lit in this direction, and the thick drapes over most of the windows were drawn, meaning that they had to fumble their way through the darkness until Elain was satisfied that no one would find them. Lucien had been patient with her, humouring it all with his soft, bemused laughter. That was until she corralled him against the wall and whispered her condemning secret into his ear.

I’m not wearing anything under my skirts.

Then all of his charming humour faded, like paint scraped from a portrait. And Elain had barely any time to prepare herself before her husband had erupted on her in a fervor of kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes that had amounted to this—

To Lucien swearing under his breath, continuing his exploration until his fingers finally, finally, sought the small bump at the apex of her thighs. He circled his thumb lazily around her clit, still not touching it as he smirked at the wetness he found, at how easily his fingers slid against her.

She whimpered, and that small noise was enough for him to withdraw. Her frustration was beginning to take on a sharper edge, the ache more persistent. More consuming. He’d been teasing her like this for what felt like hours.

“Please.”

Lucien cooed with false sympathy. “Poor thing. I’ve given you so many chances. Now you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

“Open your mouth.”

Familiarity tugged at the corner of her memory, but like the shattered vase and the trampled flowers, it was a far-away detail. There was only Lucien, his teasing touch and heated voice, which made her feel as though she’d swallowed something warm. That she was melting from the inside out.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, overwrought and breathless and still daring to be bold with him.

She parted her lips, holding her mouth open. She didn’t realize she was expecting his arousal-coated fingers until he leaned over and spit onto her waiting tongue.

It took her a moment to process what he’d just done. In the dim light, his eyes were the only bright thing, like the smouldering pits of a bottomless forge, glowing molten gold and copper. Elain’s heart was hammering, keeping herself perfectly still beneath his appraisal. Her mouth was still open, still presenting his spit to the open air, not quite certain what would please him.

“Hold that on your tongue until I tell you to swallow.”

She couldn’t answer him, not without disobeying his order. So she nodded instead, keeping her tongue cradled in position, trying to ignore the saliva already welling in the back of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Lucien unlaced himself from his trousers. At this point in their marriage, Elain might very well have seen her husband naked more often than she’d seen him clothed. She would have thought that their weeks of rabid love-making would have cured some of the shock of seeing him undressed. Yet, as her eyes welcomed his impressive length for the second time that day, she was immediately seized with a sharp, aching need to feel him inside her again.

Lucien closed a fist around his cock, offering her a slow, leisurely pump that was all for show. Her attention narrowed to the arousal beading at the tip of his flushed head, and there was something about staring at his cock while holding her tongue on display that made her long to taste it.

Maybe he could see the filthy imaginings behind her eyes, because Lucien looked at her and smirked. “You’re going to be good for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Going to do what I say?”

He notched himself at her entrance without waiting for a response.

She tried to restrain herself. She did. But as he pushed in, stretching her so full, she couldn’t help the small whimper that built in the back of her throat. Her head started to fall back, her eyes fluttering shut, when Lucien caught her at the chin, pulling her gaze to meet his as he thrust the rest of the way in, forcing their hips flush.

This time, there was an ounce of derision as he asked her, “You’re not going to swallow are you, Elain?”

She shook her head, panting through her nose. Drool was collecting beneath her tongue and she could feel Lucien throbbing inside her. Not moving, not giving her the friction she was desperate for.

“Show me.”

Elain stuck out her tongue, tilting her head back to prevent excess saliva from spilling over her lips. Lucien brushed his thumb to wipe away the small amount that trickled out of the corner of her mouth.

“Look at you,” he praised. “Desperate and drooling for me. You can be such a good girl when you want to be.”

He withdrew slightly, and she could feel him drag against every sensitive nerve. She anchored her nails into his shoulders, but nothing prepared her for his next thrust and the way she practically choked to keep herself from gasping, from swallowing.

Lucien grunted, “Fuck, Elain.”

There it was. The first crack in Lucien’s facade. It was only a matter of time before her husband became equally as desperate, as undone, as she was. One of her hands slipped into his hair, knowing precisely how to expedite his unravelling.

Weaving his scarlet hair between her fingers, Elain tugged with a measure of aggression equal to his own. He let out a startled noise before snapping his hips forward in response.

“My wife wants to play rough?” He asked, driving his hips forward harder, faster. The console table was beginning to wobble beneath the momentum, knocking into the wall in what would be a rather transparent announcement of what this corridor was being used for if anyone were to walk within earshot.

Elain was beyond caring, as was Lucien, who pulled her leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts so that his cock pierced impossibly further, demanding space in her body she wasn’t certain existed.

She screamed, thought it was gurgled by saliva, and she worried if she didn’t swallow she might very well choke. Lucien grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her neck back as he demanded again, “Open.”

She obeyed, allowing her husband to spit in her mouth a second time, the act punctuated by his brutal thrusts and his bruising grip.

“Swallow,” he said, taking mercy.

The reprieve was short lived, because the minute she opened her lips to suck in a greedy breath, Lucien’s was there, tongue pushing past her teeth to claim her mouth. He had her practically folded in half, perfectly moulded to take every inch of him. Flushed and drooling and covered in love bites, there wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t marked as his.

But it was just as well, when his unkempt clothes and tousled hair and damp skin marked him as hers. The Prince and the rake and the gentle, tender husband all uniquely combined into this man who was unleashing his full self upon her, giving her everything she wanted, everything she craved.

Her whines, smothered by his mouth, rose into a fever pitch, and that was when his fingers in her hair loosened, then fell away altogether. Their lips parted, a string of saliva still connecting them, as he murmured so sweetly to her, “Come for me, Elain. My beautiful wife.”

At last, his fingers returned between her legs, rubbing at that spot she’d been desperate for from the very start. Her head fell back against the wall and he chased her, laying kisses anywhere he could find as he babbled a string of sweet, gooey nonsense. I know. I know, honey. You’re doing so well. Taking me so well. You’re so beautiful.

My love.

My Elain.

My wife.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It always ended this way, no matter how roughly they fucked. Whenever the rhythm of his hips fractured and light burst behind her eyes, it was always to a string of I love yous. She murmured it back, between her gasping and shuddering, until his hips slowed and stopped entirely.

And then they were folded atop the console table in the corridor of their palace, mostly undressed, and kissing each other like there wasn’t a single thing else that mattered in the world.

Her head was spinning when Lucien, with what seemed a great deal of reluctance, finally pulled away. They were both panting, still gripping onto each other as they anchored back into reality. The awareness that a world existed outside of her husband came back in slow, trickling pieces.

The first thing she noticed was Lucien’s dishevelled hair. He’d worn it so nicely at dinner, with pieces braided back from his face and tied in a knot, the rest spilling over his shoulders like red ink. Now those braids were torn loose, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to smooth some of them back into place.

It was as she reached for him that she noticed candlelight gleaming off the scarlet strands—a startling revelation, when before, the corridor had been smothered in darkness. Elain’s eyes flickered to the far wall, trailing from one golden sconce to the next. She marked with awe that they were all lit. Every single candle, spitting and flickering light down the entire stretch of the hall.

She giggled at the revelation, drawing her attention to the likely culprit.

“What can I say?” Lucien offered her a roguish grin as he tucked himself back into his trousers. “My love for you is a burning flame.”

It wasn’t the first time it happened, though it’d never occurred at such a large scale. Lucien tilted his head down the length of the corridor, assessing his handiwork with what she could only amount to pride.

Elain couldn’t hide her own smile. She happened to enjoy the phenomenon—so much, in fact, that she kept a candle at their bedside that she’d barred anyone from lighting through conventional means. Her goal was to see the entire stick of wax melted by her birthday.

Her joy at the display of candlelight was fleeting, however, once she caught sight of the mess it illuminated. Beneath the table, the vase they’d knocked over was completely shattered and had sent pieces of painted pottery flying in all directions over the marble floor. She hoped the vase hadn’t been expensive and further, that it’d held no sentimental value.

Even so, most of her grief was directed towards the limp geraniums, whose once vivid petals were now crushed and wilted.

She couldn’t keep the despair from her voice. “We ruined the flowers.”

Lucien spared a glance toward the collateral of their love-making and frowned. He took her hand, raising it to his lips in apology. “I’ll set off tomorrow and get you a new bouquet,” he promised. “What’s your favourite flower?”

It was such an innocent, off-handed question.

At first, Elain’s lips curled into a smile, prepared to tease him for not remembering, before she recalled with shackling clarity that Lucien hadn’t been the last person to ask her that question. It had been her True Love, in a dream that felt like centuries ago.

In my leisure, I like to plant flowers.

Do you have a favourite?

Sweet alyssum.

Lucien, oblivious to the riptide of memory tugging her under, began the patient task of fixing her dress into a somewhat decent state.

“Is it another secret?” he teased.

The recollection was disorienting. Some part of her mind insisted on inserting her husband in the memory, when she knew it’d been someone different. She could picture his smug lips, inches from her ear and whispering so softly, And why’s that one your favourite? She could see the flash of scarlet hair, though there’d been no light. No features at all to distinguish one gentleman of her heart from another.

“I have many favourite flowers,” she said, fighting against the confusing images. She didn’t want to be remembering the dream at all; she wanted to cast her True Love and all thoughts about him permanently in the past. “It depends on which quality I’m using to assess them.”

Lucien smiled as if endeared by her answer. “What are the qualities?” He asked, pressing at her shoulder to urge her to swivel on the table, just enough so he might slip her dress back up her torso and begin lacing it.

“If I were to choose a flower for its appearance, it would be gaillardia.”

“Why’s that?”

“They remind me of you,” she said, growing shy at the admission. “Red and copper and gold. They’re one of the most vibrant flowers I’ve ever seen.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “And what about before you met me?”

“Even then.”

Elain marvelled a bit at that. As if subconsciously, she’d always felt some sort of draw to him, even before she’d known his name or his face or the colour of his eyes. That admission must have warmed him, because he paused his task to drop his head and press a lingering kiss to her shoulder.

“And your other favourites?”

“Sunflowers,” she hummed, “because they’re easy to grow, in addition to being beautiful.”

Lucien used his nose to trace the path of her shoulder, gliding up and along the crook of her neck, where he nuzzled himself closer and mused, “A bright, beautiful thing that thrives in adverse conditions? That sounds like you, sweet wife.”

A warm, wonderful feeling bubbled inside her. She leaned into his touch, wondering if this was what complete and utter happiness felt like.

“Are there any others?” He asked, offering one last, departing kiss so that he could return to his task.

“Just one,” she said, feeling less wary about it. She could reclaim the flower, make it something special to them. “Sweet alyssum. I like it for its meaning, worth beyond beauty.”

Lucien halted, the ties of her dress still lifted in his hands. “Is… is that a common flower in Carterhaugh?”

“I suppose,” she said, having never considered its abundance. “It used to grow very generously on the grounds of our manor. I used to collect the blossoms and dry them for tea. Allegedly, it’s meant to have soothing properties, though it never seemed to have much effect on my sisters’ tempers.”

He wasn’t saying anything. She waited for his response, allowing the silence to stretch beyond considerate thought, until the icy hands of anxiety began to stake their grip. Had she said something wrong? Elain glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her, not moving an inch.

It was an effort to keep her apprehension from showing. “Is everything alright?”

Lucien shook his head as if he could physically dispel his thoughts. “Everything’s fine,” he said, though his eyes were still wide. “You reminded me of a story I’d once heard before, that’s all.”

“Oh?” She tried to turn further to face him, but he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place, insistent on finishing. “Will you share it with me?”

“Another time,” he said, with an apologetic kiss along her spine. “I think right now, we should focus on making ourselves presentable and cleaning up this mess.”

His voice held a tightness that told her he was hiding something. That whatever he’d recalled had set him off balance. Curiosity burned at her. Enough that she almost pressed, prepared to accuse him of still keeping secrets. But she thought of his scars, recalling the weight of the memories that plagued him, and decided to hold her tongue.

She knew her husband loved her, and she trusted him enough to offer him the freedom to process his thoughts. He would reveal the truth to her in his own time. When he was ready for it.

-

Elain went to sleep that night in the large circular room in the corner tower of the East Wing. Lucien’s bedroom, or so it used to be. Now it was hers, too, and she cherished the intimacy of sharing a bedroom with her husband.

Whatever bothered Lucien had disappeared by the time they made it to their bedroom, and hadn’t prevented him from continuing his nightly tradition of laying her out on the bed, kissing his way down her stomach, and burying his face between her legs.

Beneath his slow tongue, her body became the strangest combination of weightless and heavy. Taught and loose. Lapping back and forth between the shores of pleasure and slumber until she settled somewhere in the middle, capable of only soft, contented sighs and drifting thoughts.

You’re so sweet like this, she heard him murmur to her, his voice just slightly louder than the fire popping and crackling in their hearth. My sweet Elain. My sweet wife.

My sweet soul.

That one couldn’t have been right. Must have been a figment of her dozing mind, blending reality with memory until she was delivered into the depths of a warm, caressing darkness.

When she next opened her eyes, she was startled to find that the space beside her was empty. Where she’d fallen asleep in the arms of her husband, she now sat up in her bed alone, his side vacant and cold, as if he’d never been there to begin with. Elain was prepared to light a candle and search for him when a voice drifted through the dark.

“Hello?”

Lucien? She thought. She nearly called to him, his name shaping her tongue before other oddities crept into her awareness.

The bed. The bedding wasn’t right. Lucien liked to sleep with the window open, inviting the biting autumn into their chamber, and when she’d complained about the cold, he compromised by piling their bed with fur-lined coverlets and thick blankets. They were nowhere to be found on this bed, nor were they necessary given the breeze circulating the room that was too light, too warm, to belong to the Eastern Kingdom.

She was not in the bed she’d fallen asleep in. She was not awake at all.

“Is that you?” Elain called. After all this time, she still didn’t have a name for him. “My True Love?”

A floorboard creaked beneath his weight.

“It’s me,” he said.

It was a relief, perhaps, that Lucien hadn’t abandoned her in the middle of the night. But one that was short-lived, given that she was alone with another man. In a dark, intimate space. Naked, just as she’d been when she’d fallen asleep in her husband’s arms. The room was completely dark, devoid even of moonlight, and still she scrambled for a sheet to cover herself.

It felt like a betrayal of Lucien to be here, but she wasn’t certain how to leave. This was the first time her True Love had been the one to summon her to their dreamland. She was wary of why he would choose to do so now, when they hadn’t communicated since the day they were to meet in Carterhaugh Gardens. Nesta’s note said he hadn’t shown up, and Elain was so preoccupied by her relationship with Lucien that she hadn’t properly considered why.

Why insist on meeting, why send her the coin to do so, if he wasn’t going to be there? Did he know that she hadn’t been there either? Given his absence, she’d assumed that they’d parted ways mutually, though she supposed there hadn’t been any proper closure. No heartfelt goodbyes, no explanations for what had gone wrong.

“You didn’t meet me in Carterhaugh,” he said. There was no accusation, only simple curiosity as he asked, “Why?”

His question surprised her. How would he know if he hadn’t been there either? It was a test, perhaps.

“I was there,” she protested, recalling Nesta’s letter. “I waited at the labyrinth’s center as long as I could. I did not see any man with a rose behind his ear.”

Her assertion was met with a moment of stunned silence.

Then he said, “Impossible. I was there from the moment the sun rose and a good while after it set.”

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Nesta would have seen him. Would have assessed every man in the center of the maze, and would have told her the truth if he’d been there. Wouldn’t she? Elain wasn’t certain who to believe. She’d never known her sister to lie, not about something like this.

“You must have had your head turned,” she rationalized. “And the flower escaped my notice.”

Had Nesta not looked properly? Had she gone at all? Elain couldn’t make sense of it, though she told herself that regardless, it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to know who her True Love was. She was happily, blissfully married.

“My mistake, then, to rely on your scrutiny. Were there too many men in the labyrinth’s center to pay each a thorough assessment?”

He couldn’t see it, but Elain crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care for your tone.”

“Answer me truthfully, then. Did you come to meet me that day in Carterhaugh?”

Elain didn’t see a reason to keep the truth from him. “I sent someone on my behalf. And they told me that no man suited your description.”

“I see.”

Without being able to gauge his expression, she couldn’t determine if he was angry with her. His voice revealed no emotion at all, though she imagined that she would be frustrated in his place. From his perspective, he believed that she was in a loveless marriage. That she was miserable and was too much of a coward to pursue their life together.

Though it was all built on a lie, she began to feel defensive. Of Lucien, of her life with him, of her reasons for staying. “It is easy for you to cast judgment when there was no risk for you. You demanded an impossible task—it would have been a two day journey to meet you, an absence my husband would certainly have noticed.”

“And tell me of your husband.”

“What of him?”

“I was going to help you flee him,” he reminded her. There was an edge to his voice. “I didn’t consider it an impossible task because I believed his notice of your absence would be inevitable once we ran away together. Unless you were planning to go back? Has your desire to escape your marriage changed?”

This was it. This was the moment to tell him, to end things between them for good. She swallowed back her guilt, knowing that any resulting heartbreak would be her burden to carry. She’d been the one to place the first butterfly under tongue, despite knowing that they would always end up here. Saying their goodbyes.

Her True Love deserved a happy ending, and she wished she could give that to him. But her heart belonged to Lucien. She suspected it always would.

“My husband is not the man I thought him to be,” she said. “He is good—kind.”

“There are plenty of good and kind men that do not treat their wives as well as they deserve.”

Even in her dreams, even from someone who did not know Lucien, she would not tolerate such accusations. “He treats me better than anyone I know.”

Her True Love paused, like he was inclined to argue, but instead asked, “Are you happy with him?”

Elain didn’t waver, didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“Yes.”

It was the honest, simple truth.

She was met with further silence as her True Love processed this answer, what it meant for him. For them.

“Then consider this our last meeting,” he said cordially. “I will not disrupt your marriage any further. I truly wish you happiness, lady.”

To his credit, he sounded sincere. And she thought he must be a very decent man. One who could perhaps learn to find happiness in his circumstances the same way she had.

“Wait,” she called to him.

He paused. Curious. “Yes?”

“Your wife… Do you think you could find happiness with her? I feel a kinship to her,” she admitted, pressing her hand to her chest. “I hope she can find happiness in her marriage as well.”

Her True Love laughed, and there was a warmth to it, an affection, that swelled her heart. “My wife is extraordinary. I promise I will endeavour to make her happy.”

That brought her more peace than she could have hoped for.

“Then perhaps we were not meant to find each other in this lifetime,” she said. “Perhaps the Mother willed our lives to walk in parallel. I hope we can each find fulfillment on our separate paths.”

There was an ounce of whimsy in his response, his tone a touch too knowing as he said, “Perhaps one day our paths will converge outside our dreams. I’ll be looking forward to it until then, my sweet soul.”

-

When Elain next opened her eyes, it was to one eye of russet and another of metal. Lucien was watching her sleep, a soft smile parting his lips. The kind that was rare to see from him. Not sarcastic or smug or self-satisfied, just… happy.

A low humming noise rumbled in his throat. “Good morning, wife.”

He leaned down to kiss her, slow and unhurried, like the steady creep of fog drifting just outside their open window. The air was fresh with dew, but too chilly to coax her from the warmth of her husband’s body and the pile of blankets.

He asked between a trail of kisses along her neck, “Did you have a nice dream?”

For a moment, she panicked. Did she tell him? Would he understand? The last thing Elain wanted was for her husband to lock himself in his study to try and track down her True Love. It was over. There was no need to plague his mind with it.

“I… I don’t remember it.” She said, shuffling closer to press her face into his chest, hoping to distract him from the lie by dragging her lips across his throat. “Did you? Have a nice dream?”

“I did.” His fingers lovingly traced the shape of her spine, and he was still wearing that beautiful, unrestrained smile. “I dreamt of you.”

If only Elain could have been so lucky.

“Couldn’t have been so nice, then,” she teased, nipping at his neck.

He made another of those rich, throaty noises that she only seemed capable of eliciting in the mornings.

“You’re mistaken. There is no dream lovelier. Though I doubt any could compare to this.”

“To what?”

Lucien placed both hands on her hips and heaved her up so that she was practically lying atop him. His eyes were so rich with affection she almost couldn’t stand to be the sole focus of it, could feel her face heating as though she were standing directly in the sun’s path.

“Waking up to the sight of you.”

He pushed one of her curls behind her ear, studying her face like he was memorizing every detail. Elain was beginning to suspect an ulterior motive.

“You’re being rather complimentary, husband.” She trailed her fingers suggestively over the planes of his chest. “Is there something you’re after?”

“A good many things, Elain.”

Lucien kissed her, and she could feel him harden against her stomach. It was a pattern she’d noticed before, and this time she couldn’t contain her curiosity. She retreated from their kiss in favour of pulling up the blankets to glance down their bodies, admiring the thick appendage that was already swelling to attention.

“Does it always do that in the morning?”

He chuckled. “It will do that so long as you are naked in bed with me.”

Elain continued to stare, feeling her mouth grow dry as she realized she had a great many curiosities when it came to her husband and his body. “That thing you do with your mouth,” she said, recalling the way he’d licked her just before they’d fallen asleep. “Does the equivalent feel nice for you?”

From the way his cock twitched in response to her question, she thought Lucien might have found the idea appealing. Even as he said, “It’s not necessary for child making.”

She glanced at him flatly. “That’s not what I asked.”

When he didn’t say anything further, Elain elected to take matters into her own hand. She shuffled down his body, reaching until her palm wrapped around his length.

“Fuck,” he bit out as she pumped her fist experimentally, the same way she’d seen him do it. “Yes, Elain. It feels nice for me, too.”

“Then show me—”

“You don’t have to.”

Elain ignored his protest and shuffled the rest of the way down his body, until she was crouched between his legs. “I want to be a good wife.”

“You are already a good wife.” His voice was becoming strained, particularly as she leaned over his cock and tentatively swiped her tongue over his head. “You’re—fuck. The best wife.”

“Then I don’t want you to ever forget it,” she crooned, repeating the small licking motion over the bead of moisture gathered at his tip. It was saltier and slightly more bitter than she expected, but the way Lucien shuddered warmed her blood. She kept the rest of him in her fist, continuing to move her hand up and down the length of his shaft. “Like this?”

“Elain—”

She giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

His cock was pleasantly warm to the touch. Softer than she’d expect—not so different from silk, the way she could slide her palm against him with so little resistance. She wanted to know what it would feel like to take him in her mouth. What he would taste like.

“Cauldron,” he groaned.

Elain flicked her eyes up to see Lucien was watching, his eyes half-lidded and still utterly fixed on what she was doing as she slowly opened her mouth and slid his head between her lips. She swirled her tongue around him, marvelling at the taste, the sounds she was coaxing from him, how his hand speared into her hair and tugged.

“Stop—Stop, sweetheart, please. You’re going to make me come.”

Elain pulled her head up, but didn’t stop working him with her hand as she asked, “And that’s a bad thing?”

“If you want a child, it’d be a waste for it to go in your mouth,” he said candidly. His eyes were glazed, and he seemed to hesitate before adding, “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing myself all over your lips.”

Oh? Elain grinned, then lowered her mouth back down, taking in as much of him as she could manage. He was enormous, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to fit all of him in her mouth, but Lucien didn’t seem to mind. His head had fallen back into the pillows, his lips parted open in pleasure. She hummed, delighted to see he was enjoying himself, and nearly gagged when his hips bucked in response.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

Lucien’s voice was ordinarily decadent. Rich and low and a little bit raspy. In the mornings that raspiness became thicker, more raw. And when he was like this, still half asleep and drunk with desire, it became the most exquisite sound she’d ever heard.

She hummed again to see if she could elicit the same response. It was exhilarating to be able to drive him senseless for a change, to watch the way he came apart as she hallowed her cheeks and continued bobbing her head. He was able to manage only a few more passes before his fingers tightened in her hair. His hips jerked forward, and a low guttural noise was all the warning she was given before he spilled into her mouth.

Elain waited until his body stopped shuddering before she swallowed and gently pulled away. She met his eyes as she sat up, swiping his spend from her bottom lip and sucking it from her thumb with a flourish. He made an odd sound in the back of his throat.

She sang, “Looks like you’ll have to make it up to me another time.”

Lucien shook his head. “Now,” he said, reaching for her. Elain yelped as she was dropped back atop his chest, and he was pulling her down to kiss her again and again, paying no mind to the taste of himself. He grunted, “I’ll make it up to you now.”

She believed that he would have made good on that promise if there hadn’t been a knock on the door.

“We’ll take our breakfast later,” he called.

The knock came again, more insistent. This time, followed by Vassa’s voice.

“Your Highness, I’ve received an urgent notice from the guards at the gatehouse. They say that King Beron is on his way. He’ll be arriving in a matter of minutes.”

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt 10

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Some gore and violence.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-9 here

Chapter Ten

A/N: I Googled the recipe for authentic Hungarian Chicken Paprikash in order to see how difficult it might actually be to make, and as someone who can’t cook but three things, I have to say it looks hella complicated. I’m giving Reader far more credit than I would ever give myself with regards to kitchen skills.. That said it sounds delicious and now I want it :’(  Someone pls feed me. Also I felt super bad that I went so long without posting when I had this just… sitting in my Google Docs, so uh… have another chapter. I only have 12 written so far though so I guess I better get to steppin’. sweats nervously

The pair of you had elected on a movie marathon today, watching the Hobbit series together on the couch when Wanda felt it. That telltale tingle in the back of her mind, signaling that her wards had been tripped. This wasn’t the alarm for a breach, but rather letting her know that someone was at the perimeter attempting to get in. Pearly teeth grit in rage - how dare someone ruin her perfectly good afternoon with you? Everything was coming together, and now someone had the audacity to try and intrude, possibly to try and take you away from her? Wanda couldn’t have that.

Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the redhead informed you she needed to check on one of her projects and it might be a while. Your pout was quickly kissed away, Wanda directing you to play the new video game she had gotten you last month. Unintentionally, you had been putting it off - between spending time with Wanda and trying to play all the other video games you had, there hadn’t been much time for it. Excitedly, you agreed, getting the disc ready before putting it in the console, as Wanda stepped away. Sure it would be better with the woman by your side, but you could be patient while she worked on her projects. 

Or at least, you would try to be. Healthy relationships and all, you had to be able to spend time apart, and you certainly spent enough time together even if secretly your selfish heart thought not enough.

Out of your view and satisfied you were preoccupied for the foreseeable future, the witch conjured her battle regalia, and stepped through a portal to the ground's perimeter. From the moment she stepped through, the cause of the alarm became readily apparent - Stephen Strange stood just beyond the barrier looking smarmy as ever.

Wanda was getting really sick of that stupid goatee.

“Stephen,” Wanda said, calmly, “How did you find me?” She asked, but she didn’t truly care, the how didn’t really matter.

”America didn’t sell you out, if that’s what you’re asking. The trail of death and destruction you’d left pointed me in the right direction. It took a while but eventually I found where you've been hiding, as you had to know I would.”

The witch hummed noncommittally. “I’m just trying to get my family back, Stephen. You of all people should understand that. I’ve seen what you have done to try and reunite with Christine. Can you blame me for wanting to be happy? Why do you get to choose the reality we all must live in, but when I try to make a life for myself, I’m labeled a villain?”

Strange knew there was some truth to her words, but he was never one to back down. “The family you had wasn’t real, Wanda. They never wer-”

“They were real to me!” The witch seethed, cutting him off.

“In almost every other universe, we are together and happy. If I have to go through you to make that happen, I will. To you they aren’t real, but to me they are my family, and I would burn every universe for them.” Red eyes blazed in rage, and Stephen had no doubt the Scarlet Witch meant her words.

Nevertheless, the sorcerer had no patience for empathizing with his former colleague. There was an innocent person in her grasp and it was his duty to save them. “You have to let her go, Wanda. You can’t hold her against her will like this.”

A sinister chuckle. “Against her will? Does she look like she’s being held against her will?”

With a flick of her stained fingers, and a hazy one-way portal appeared off to the side of them, showing where you were currently engrossed in playing your new video game: Baldur’s Gate 3. From there the scene changed to the recent dates you both had been going on, and how happy you were spending time together, focusing on just how enamored you looked gazing up at Wanda. Another twitch of ink-tinged digits, and the images were gone.

The sorcerer had to admit you didn’t look unhappy, but that didn’t mean all was as it seemed. He knew there was no way she had come clean to you about everything she had done to get you here. If she had, surely you would have run for the hills by now, or at least attempted to. Things wouldn’t be so rosy for you if he left you in her care, Stephen was certain.

“Be that as it may, this Y/N doesn’t belong with you. You decimated entire universes in your search for her, leaving countless innocents dead in your wake. Does she know that? Does she know that you murdered her parents in this universe?” He asked, knowing full well the answer.

His words stung, Wanda knowing that some part of him was right in this instance. No, she hadn’t told you, and initially she had never intended to. As she had gotten closer to you though, Wanda realized she wanted you to know. Not to hurt you, but to solidify that she would always keep you safe from any harm, no matter who it was. She loved you, truly, and wanted you to know everything about her. However, she couldn’t risk that until she was sure your heart wouldn’t turn away from her with the knowledge she revealed.

“They were abusing her, Stephen! In your infinite wisdom, did you know that? Do you know the life she led before me? I’m not her captor, Strange, I saved her! Here she is happy, and I provide her with everything she could ever want or need. Taking that away from her for the sake of your pitiful morality and duty, that would be the real crime. Y/N deserves to be loved, to be happy, and so do I. Don’t take that from us.”

Strange knew he couldn’t win on logic alone. This would undoubtedly end in another showdown, but he was hoping he could reason with the witch. “It’s not just about rescuing her from your clutches, Wanda. You have caused real harm to the multiverse. Untold suffering, trillions annihilated for your selfish obsession. You have to be stopped, Wanda. What’s to prevent you from killing Y/N when she doesn’t fall in line like you want? What will you do then, toss her body aside like so many other innocent people, tearing through countless more universes to find another copy? When will it stop?”

“I would never hurt her!” the redhead snaps, her magic flaring out in warning. She was blatantly ignoring the fact that not long ago she was chasing you through a forest in the fear and anger that you were leaving her. Even then though, she had never planned to hurt you, certainly not kill you. Only to teach you a lesson. Wanda deeply resented that Stephen thought she would ever purposely hurt you. Not to any lasting degree at any rate. She loved you. You were her everything, the key to her happiness.

The witch took a steadying breath, calming herself. She had to think of you first, and she didn’t want to risk a battle so close to her home with you in it. “I have no intention of leaving this universe ever again, Stephen. I can’t say that I am sorry for what I did - it has brought me here with Y/N. But we are happy here, and unless someone comes along to threaten my family, I otherwise have no need to ever harm anyone ever again.”

She paused to look Strange in the eyes, trying to convey her sincerity. “Please Stephen, just go. Leave us in peace. This doesn’t have to be a fight. I’m so… tired… of fighting, Strange, but I want to be clear: I will never give up what is mine. I will neutralize any threat to her, or her happiness, and that includes you.”

The sorcerer couldn’t deny that Wanda looked every bit as exhausted as she suggested at this moment. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t allow the greatest threat to the multiverse that’s ever existed to continue free. Stephen believed that Wanda believed she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but that didn’t mean that he trusted her temper. Having already proven volatile at best, and if he left her alone with you, there was nothing stopping Wanda from going on the rampage he expected her to, should you step one toe out of line.

With a deep sigh, he looked at the ground, pondering his options, wishing there was another way. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I can’t take that risk. Not with someone as powerful as you. I’ll ask you one last time, let Y/N go, and surrender. This doesn’t have to end in blood.”

The witch tilted her head, studying him. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, Stephen.”

Purposefully she strode through the barrier to her home, no longer protected by it, able to engage if necessary. “I won’t let you take her from me. I won’t allow anyone to take her from me, ever again. I have grown so much stronger since we last fought. If you insist on your foolish crusade, this will end with your blood.

By now Wanda was mere feet in front of the sorcerer, refusing to back down. “Like you said, Strange. Last chance.” She tilted her head again, and a chill ran down Stephen’s spine at her determined, if slightly unhinged visage.

Strange sighed, moving to take a defensive stance, when suddenly the witch’s arm was protruding from his chest. He let out a surprised grunt. He hadn’t even seen her move, but he could feel the agony radiating throughout his body, proof enough that she had.

With a disgusting squelch, Wanda withdrew her hand, his heart clutched firmly within, still beating. Horror darkened the man’s face as he stared in shock. He hadn’t even seen her move, much less been able to react. How had she gotten so fast? Pain and shock prevented him from even speaking.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Stephen, but I told you. If you continued to come for me, it would be the Scarlet Witch you would be dealing with.” With an almost regretful look at his flabbergasted expression, Wanda crushed his heart in her hand before dropping it. What was left of the ruined organ thudded onto the ground at almost the same time his body did.

Wanda turned and began walking back towards the cottage, not looking back as she waved her hand. Red phosphenes surrounded Stephen Strange’s body as it disintegrated into ash. She neglected to take a portal this time, electing instead to take the long way to the house in the hopes the night air would steady her. It didn’t.

Eventually setting foot in your shared home, Wanda cast a glance towards the living room and was relieved to see you were clearly still enthralled with your new game. So engrossed were you, that you failed to notice Wanda, hand and arm covered in blood, as she headed towards the bathroom for a shower. Though she could have cleaned herself instantly with magic, she knew she was in no state of mind to return to you just yet. Despite how unaffected Wanda had made an effort to appear to Strange, her sins were weighing heavily on her heart. Killing someone she had once fought beside was not something she relished. Another death she was going to have to explain to you one day. Since the walk hadn’t done anything to ease her troubled heart and mind, the witch set about taking a shower. It stood to reason you would hear it and not question her continued delay, buying her time to not only clean up but hopefully also clear her head. 

Her shower was longer than usual, with less time spent cleaning than simply existing. Rivulets of water ran down her face as the redhead stood beneath the showerhead, staring sight unseeing at the shower wall. A necessary evil, she told herself. That didn’t make the weight of his death any less burdensome. What was she supposed to have done? Even if she had let him go, eventually he would have come back, the insufferable pest that he was. Likely then with numbers that even the Scarlet Witch might struggle with. She couldn’t have risked that. Risked you. Never again.

Why couldn’t he have just left her well enough alone? Wanda had meant what she said: she had no intention of universe hopping anymore. All she had ever wanted was her family. Now that she had you, she could begin rebuilding that, and you were making such good progress for her. Why would she want to start over with another variant of you, when you were just… so perfect for her? She still missed your Avenger variant, but every day that hole in her heart hurt just a little less. Besides, something about you specifically had a hold on her heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Maybe in the beginning Wanda might.. have gone searching for another if you had not panned out as she expected. Terrible as that was to admit. Instead, from the moment she laid eyes on you before even entering into this universe, she was gripped by you. It was Fate, she was sure of it. And now? She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Of ever even trying to find another. Out of the vast multiverse, there was only this version of you. She wanted you as you were, and she refused to let you go or allow any harm to come to you. Even if it meant protecting you from herself.

A shuddering breath was exhaled, and Wanda began slowly rinsing the blood off of her face and out of her hair. She may have left you with a video game to keep yourself entertained, but Wanda knew from experience if she wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be too long before you would come looking. Wanda had become your rock, your favorite person. You could be playing your favorite game of all time, but if Wanda was not present, you wouldn’t have nearly as much fun. It was sort of cute how you would look for her at every opportunity, unable to stand being without her for too long. She felt similarly, and hoped you knew that now.

Finally clean, and deeming herself capable of functioning again, the witch changed into her most comfortable pajamas before mindlessly making her way back to the living room where you were. Absorbed in your game as you were, you only vaguely registered Wanda’s presence returning. You scooted slightly on the couch to make room for her, without ever taking your eyes away from the screen.

“Hey, Wands!” you said, enthusiastically. “How is your project coming along?”

The former hero was not ready to speak just yet, so she simply hummed instead, and leaned against you. She took comfort in your familiar warmth, even if your arms weren’t around her just now, your presence was enough to be soothing.

The lack of a proper response caught your attention. You almost didn’t turn to look at her, being in the midst of a pivotal battle, but you were glad you did. Hazel eyes puffy and tinted pink from crying met yours. Alarmed, you immediately stopped playing, controller forgotten in your lap, the game not even paused. Turning to the older woman, you placed one hand on her arm, the other to her cheek which she leaned in to.

“Wanda? What’s wrong? Has something happened?” 

Oh her precious detka, thought the witch. Always such a big heart, eager to provide comfort and aid. Perhaps if she were to tell you, maybe you would understand. Maybe you would forgive her. As she took in your concerned gaze though, she knew she wasn’t ready to risk it. Not right now. Instead, she shook her head to your question, unwilling to answer it.

“Can we not talk about it right now?” Her Sokovian accent was slightly more pronounced.

Though you were dying of curiosity as to what could bring someone so mighty to tears, you didn’t press. It’s not as if there would be something someone as powerless as you could do anything about whatever it was anyway. All you could do was ask and offer comfort. Wanda would tell you when she was ready. Until then, this was your opportunity to return some of the love and support she had provided you with, and you positively ached to bring that to her. Wordlessly, you pulled her into your arms, leaning back on the couch until she was laying atop your body. Murmuring gentle words of reassurance, you held her close, occasionally running your fingers through her auburn locks.

After a while, you grabbed the remote nearby and turned the tv from your video game to the DVD player. The Dick Van Dyke show began playing softly in the background, and Wanda’s chest bloomed with love for you at your thoughtfulness. She nuzzled further into your embrace, staying that way for the better part of the rest of the day as you both dozed intermittently.

Hours later Wanda slipped into a proper sleep, and once evening had rolled around, you took it upon yourself to cook dinner. Though you hadn’t wanted to part from the witch, she clearly needed the rest, and you wanted to surprise her by making dinner for her. Carefully you rolled her away from your chest and onto the couch instead, placing one of the pillows beneath her head. The only indication she registered any change was the slight, adorable scrunching of her nose. Why was this woman so damn cute?!

The kitchen had never been your chosen domain. Before Wanda, you were more likely to burn a pot of water than actually cook something successfully. Now you were hoping some of her lessons had rubbed off on you as you rummaged through the pantry and fridge trying to locate ingredients. With any luck you would be able to throw together and create something vaguely resembling an edible meal.

It was a pleasant surprise for you to discover that you currently had all the ingredients available to make Chicken Paprikash - Wanda’s favorite meal from her home in Sokovia. Going through her recipe note cards, it didn’t take you long to find it, and soon you were throwing seasonings in a pot along with some onions, tomatoes, peppers, and the chicken. While that was cooking, you prepared the noodles. A little under an hour later, and everything was coming together. You just hoped it wasn’t trash.

The aromatic and savory fragrance must have awoken the redhead because she sleepily padded her way into the kitchen to find her sweet surprise. You couldn’t see her yet, your back to her as you stirred the food while it simmered. Though unable to carry a tune to save your life, you were humming quietly to yourself with your earbuds firmly in place as you focused on making the delicious meal. Precious.

“Are you cooking, detka?” Wanda asked just loud enough to be heard over your music, and you jumped, startled. Blushing you turned to face the witch and grinned sheepishly.

“Uhh.. if you could call it that?” you chuckled, pulling out an earbud. “I just thought since you’re always taking such good care of me, maybe I could return the favor?” Voice lilting upwards almost in a question, hoping you hadn’t overstepped.

Moving to stand next to you and see what you had made, Wanda’s eyes widened as she took in the familiar dish. “Is this chicken paprikash?”

“Haha, yeah uhh.. my attempt at it at least?” You absentmindedly rubbed the back of your neck  - a nervous tick you’re pretty sure you didn’t have as a child until you started watching anime to learn the nuances of facial expressions better. It wasn’t until well into adulthood you learned most people don’t actually do that. Embarrassed, you fought not to slap your own arm, and instead simply lower it like a normal person.

“I hope I didn’t butcher it too badly. I tried to follow the recipe you had on the card since we had all the ingredients, but I can’t speak to the integrity of the dish as I haven’t tasted it yet. Besides, you're the true connoisseur here, so even if it seems okay to me, your superior palate might be able to tell the difference.” The joke rolls easily off your tongue, followed by a quick wink.

To you this was no big deal, you were just trying to be kind. But to Wanda? This was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her, and it reminded her almost of when she taught your Avenger variant how to make the dish. The other you had never tried to make it for her in return however, opting simply to learn about the meal while Wanda cooked. Now, looking at the beautiful dinner you had created for her, simply because it was her favorite and might cheer her up, Wanda felt her heart about to burst with affection for you.

Unable to hold back, deft fingers gripped your neck softly, quickly pulling you in for a searing kiss. Pouring all her love, affection, and appreciation into the kiss. You were surprised, but not unhappy with this turn of events. It hadn’t been your goal, per se, a kiss from the woman you were coming to love. However, if she wasn’t melancholic anymore, then you considered your goal accomplished. Your arms came to wrap around her neck, though you were careful to keep the spoon from making contact with her clothing or hair, you had heard her take a shower earlier and didn’t want to ruin that for her.

The kiss simmered into something soft and sweet. Meanwhile your food, unfortunately, was starting to bubble over. Hearing it, the pair of you sprung apart, with you frantically pulling the pot off the eye of the stove, stirring it to return to the intended consistency. Embarrassed and amused, you both burst into giggles at the almost mishap.

“Thank you, Y/N. This is incredibly sweet of you, I-” The redhead pauses, unable to eloquently convey everything she felt in that moment. “Just, thank you.”

The wattage of your smile could have been seen from space; you were so happy. “Of course, Wands! Any time.”

While you turned off the stove, Wanda set the table so you could begin plating your dinner. Jokes and laughter flowed easily between you as you both enjoyed your meal. Wanda, who never doubted your cooking skills, though you are pleasantly surprised, enjoyed that the paprikash is not only edible but rather delicious.

As you and Wanda settled into the domesticity of it all, the witch found her heart becoming light once again. So incredibly kind and thoughtful, you brought her joy, and filled her with hope. She resolved then and there to tell you everything one day. Deserving of that much at the very least, Wanda prayed, hoping, with all her being, that you would forgive her when the truth was finally revealed. For now though she sank into the warmth and comfort you provided, falling for you just a little more with each grin you flashed her way.

A/N 2: I’m not proud of what I had Wanda do in this, but I still have some left-over rage for how Stephen treated Wanda. All she needed was a little empathy, especially from the man who made the call to allow the events with Thanos and the Mind stone to play out as they did, basically letting Vision die. For no good reason. No you can’t convince me he was right. Its lazy plot writing that out of thousands and thousands of possibilities, none of them could have involved sparing Vision, or at least making his death mean something. I’m a Wanda apologist first and foremost, and I will die on this hill. Wanda deserved better, especially from those she called “friends”. Also, I stan women’s wrongs 😛

Taglist: I remembered this time!! @dorabledewdroop

[romione-trope-fest]

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Title: The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Author: alltoowellread

Selected Trope: Fake NOT Dating

Summary: A non-Voldy AU where Hermione & Ron get together in 4th year and then keep it a secret…until they don’t.

Inspired by the Friends episodes The One With All The Resolutions and The One Where Everybody Finds Out.

Word Count: 4,943

Rating: General Audiences

TW: implications of underage shenanigans

Notes: Italics at the beginning indicate lines taken directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Although I did not put them in italics, there are also quite a few lines taken directly from two episodes of Friends (The One With All The Resolutions and The One Where Everybody Finds Out.)

****

Harry climbed into the common room and found Ron and Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face.

“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?” yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.

“Oh yeah?” Ron yelled back. “What’s that?”

“Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”

Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water. Then, as Hermione turned on her heel to storm up the girls’ staircase, Ron raced across the room and grabbed her arm before she could take another step. Hermione turned to him, face tense as if she expected Ron to continue their row with another biting remark. But Ron’s face was determined rather than angry now. And Hermione’s expression quickly turned to shock as he leaned down and kissed her.

Harry immediately sank back into the portrait hole. It was clear that neither of them had noticed him entering and he very much wanted to keep it that way now that they were…well, snogging. Ron and Hermione were snogging. Hermione had very quickly gotten over her shock and returned Ron’s kiss fervently, so that Harry’s two best friends were now without a doubt groping at each other and kissing as if their life depended on it.

Harry turned on his heel and decided to go anywhere that wasn’t the common room. Even the Slytherin common room would be preferred.

Harry very much hoped that his friends would realize where they were quite quickly so that they would move somewhere a bit more private. Harry thought it was lucky that it was he who had caught them, as any other member of the Weasley family or even another Gryffindor student would have called them out immediately. As it was, Harry was much more inclined to ignore what he saw until Ron and Hermione decided to bring it up to him themselves.

Which they did…never.

Not over Christmas break.

Not for the remaining part of the school year.

Not even when they all came together again at the Burrow after a short time apart in the summer.

For the first few months, Harry wondered if Ron and Hermione had actually decided to ignore the kiss altogether. Besides a few weeks of awkward moments between the two of them when they were with other people, they didn’t give any indication that anything had happened at all. They even went back to their usual bickering fairly quickly after the night of the Yule Ball. No one else seemed to notice anything different about the two of them, and Harry expected he wouldn’t have either if he hadn’t seen them kissing with his own two eyes.

However, once Harry started paying closer attention, he realized that they often made up excuses for doing one thing or another that gave them ample time to be alone together without anyone else catching on. Hermione would go to the library to study instead of coming down to the Great Hall for dinner (nothing strange about that), and then Ron would suddenly remember something he had left in the dormitory (and it would take quite a long time for him to find whatever it was). Harry found it rather amusing, and since he didn’t particularly want the dynamics of their friendship to change if they didn’t have to, he decided not to push the subject.

***

Ron and Hermione’s luck ran out towards the end of the summer. Grimmauld Place, where they spent most of the holidays, was much larger than the Burrow and thus made it much easier to sneak off to various rooms under the guise of “cleaning”. Except one day the “cleaning” occupied both of them so much that they didn’t notice when a certain red-headed young woman walked past the very cupboard where they had decided to “clean”.

Ginny was so shocked that she was momentarily speechless. She decided to do the same thing that Harry had done upon catching his two best friends. She turned on her heel and walked right back where she came from.

Harry, who had been sent by Mrs. Weasley to find Ron and Hermione, ran right into Ginny as soon as she turned the corner. There were a few seconds of apologies and steadying each other, and then Harry noticed the look of shock that was still on Ginny’s face.

“Are you alright, Gin?” Harry asked. He looked furtively behind her down the hallway. “Is there some sort of boggart nearby or something that we’ve missed?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Ginny said quickly. “I just…uh…might have seen something.”

“Seen something?” Harry repeated, still looking worried. Then, remembering what he’d experienced months ago, he quickly realized where Ron and Hermioned might have gotten to and what that might have entailed. 

Ginny, noticing the “ah-ha” moment that she recognized so well from Harry, immediately went from shocked to suspicious. She narrowed her eyes and said, “Do you know something?”

Harry still wasn’t sure if what he suspected had happened, had actually happened. Since he still wanted things to stay the way they were, he wasn’t willing to give anything away yet. He asked, “Do you know something?”

“I might know something,” said Ginny, crossing her arms.

“I might know something, too.”

“What’s the thing you know?” Ginny glared.

“Oh no,” Harry shook his head. “I can’t tell you until you tell me what you know.”

“Well, I don’t want to tell you what I know.” Ginny was now no longer shocked nor suspicious, but rather annoyed that she may have been out of the loop on a very interesting piece of information.

“Well then I can’t tell you what I know,” Harry insisted.

“Okay, fine,” Ginny huffed. 

Neither of them moved for a few moments, since they were equally stubborn and didn’t want to be the first one to break. Harry, however, had had a much longer time to process what they both now knew, and curiosity eventually got the better of Ginny.

“All right,” Ginny spoke up, “how about I turn around and I walk back down this hallway and I will see that thing that I think that I know is actually the thing that I think that I know!”

Harry gasped. “You know!”

Ginny pointed at Harry. “And you know!”

“Yeah, I know!”

“Ron and Hermione?! Oh, this is unbelievable!” Ginny paused, her brow crinkling a bit. “Except not really. Hermione’s had a crush on Ron since second year and I’m sure Ron has had one on Hermione for at least as long. It’s more unbelievable that they both finally got over themselves and finally did something about it.” Ginny paused again, then glared at Harry. “How long have you known?”

“Too long,” Harry replied.

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“Of course not. I didn’t want to bring it up if they weren’t going to.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered what sounded like, “Typical.” Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she smiled slowly. “I’m going to give him so much hell about this.”

“Listen, I don’t think we should say anything about this to anybody. It would be too weird.”

“It would be too funny,” Ginny countered. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, since you don’t have siblings.”

“How would you feel if Ron got involved in your love life?” Harry countered.

Ginny had the decency to stop to think about it for a few moments. Then she sighed and said, “Fine. You’re right. But they’re lucky it was me who caught them, not Fred and George. They would have no mercy.”

***

Unfortunately, Fred & George were indeed the next ones to find out.

In fact, they found out in the presence of Ginny, who for Hermione’s sake (definitely not Ron’s) had actually become rather fierce about keeping their secret the longer it went on. Plus, she appreciated that it had become a little inside joke between her and Harry.

The three Weasleys were in a deserted part of the castle fine-tuning their Portable Swamp item. Normally the twins kept all of the products they were testing under wraps, but since Ginny had been the one to joke about a portable swamp they had decided to include her in on its creation. Plus, George admitted that she “had good ideas sometimes I guess”. As they were casting not-quite-allowed charms in a large hallway, they had made sure to put up wards that made it impossible for someone to see or hear them unless they were right on top of them, which didn’t seem likely given that this wasn’t a very well-known part of the castle. Plus, the three of them kept an eye on the Marauders’ Map that Harry had let them borrow.

Fred noticed the two dots on the map first. His first thought when seeing that it was Ron and Hermione was that they were on their prefect rounds. “Shit!” He exclaimed.

“What?” George and Ginny said together, glancing at the map simultaneously.

George had the same thought as his twin and said, “Let’s hope the wards work. Looks like they’re coming down the opposite stairway. That’s pretty far away. With any luck, they won’t come any closer.”

Ginny, knowing the real reason why Ron and Hermione found themselves in such a secluded area, was less worried about being caught than catching. “Why don’t we just finish up and leave before they get too close?”

“It’ll be fine,” Fred insisted. “We’ll just keep quiet.”

Ginny was at a loss as to what to do next. She decided there was only so much she could do to help Hermione (again, definitely not Ron), and if the two of them were careless enough to be caught by the twins then it was not her fault. Ginny decided to keep her eyes firmly planted on the map. George did the same. Fred was the one to turn around to keep Ron and Hermione in sight in case a quick departure was necessary.

Ginny was not surprised when a few minutes later Fred shouted out, “Oh! Ohh! Ahh!!!”

George was surprised, and turned around quickly. “What?!”

“Ahhh!!” Fred continued. Then explained, pointing in the direction of the couple, “Ron and Hermione! Ron and Hermione!”

“Oh Merlin!” George cried, finally seeing what Fred was on about.

“RON AND HERMIONE!” Fred said again.

“OH MERLIN!” George repeated.

“OH!” Fred said as he turned away, finally deciding he had seen enough. “MY EYES! MY EYES!”

Ginny had had quite enough of their outburst and said, “Fred! George! It’s okay! It’s okay!”

“NO!” Fred shook his head violently.

George couldn’t seem to look away and also shouted, “THEY’RE DOING IT!”

“I know!” Ginny said, grasping George by the shoulder and turning him away. She took care not to look in the general direction of Ron and Hermione so as not to see anything she didn’t want to.

Fred gaped at her. “You know?!”

“Yes, I know!” Ginny admitted. “And Harry knows! But they haven’t told anyone yet and we don’t want to get caught so you two have to stop screaming!”

The twins’ survival instinct kicked in and they did stop screaming. They also quickly got rid of the portions of the Portable Swamp they had been working on and left the area as quickly and quietly as they could. By the time they cornered Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room, they were as outraged as Ginny had been about being left out of this secret.

“Fred and George just found out about Ron and Hermione,” Ginny sighed in explanation as she flopped onto the seat next to Harry, who was looking at Fred and George warily.

At that, Harry looked sharply at Ginny. “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “No. Harry, they know. We were in that part of the castle with the Camelot painting and we saw them from across the landing.”

“Actually,” George said, closing his eyes with a look of disgust. “We saw them doing it up against the Camelot painting.”

Fred chimed in, “So they don’t know that either of you know?”

Harry rubbed his face. “No, but you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know that we can just tell them that we know. Then all the lying and the secrets would finally be over.”

“Or,” George said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “we could not tell them we know and have a little fun of our own.”

Ginny immediately perked up, forgetting that she had decided to be a good friend and keep Hermione’s secret. Now that her brothers knew what was going on, she had returned to her initial desire of giving Ron hell. “What do you mean?”

Fred nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you know…every time Hermione says that she’s going to the library we’ll just say we need to go too.”

“Ohhh, I would enjoy that!” Ginny grinned.

“No no no.” Harry was now running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “You know what would even be more fun? Telling them.”

“No, I definitely want to do Fred and George’s thing,” Ginny said. “I warned you they would be merciless if they found out.”

“We’ll come back to the fact that you kept this from us little sis,” George glared at her.

“Definitely,” Fred said. “But for now we’ll focus on how we’re going to mess with them.”

Harry, seeing he was outnumbered, simply said, “Ugh.”

Before discussion could continue, Ron and Hermione came in through the portrait hall. Fred, never one to let something as pesky as planning interfere with a good opportunity, stood up and walked casually over to the two of them. Over his shoulder he whispered, “Watch and learn.”

“Hey!” Fred grinned at Hermione once he reached her side. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave a squeeze, ignoring Ron completely. 

“Erm,” Hermione responded tentatively, clearly surprised. The small flush on her cheeks could have been from Fred’s attentions, or from her previous illicit activities with Ron. “Hello.”

“These robes look great on you,” Fred winked at her.

“Really?” Hermione squeaked out. She was definitely blushing because of Fred. Ron’s ears were also bright red now, and he was scowling.

Fred pulled away from Hermione slightly so that he could run his hand down her arm. “Yeah, the material feels so soft.” He leaned in and whispered (but loud enough for Ron to hear), “I bet what’s underneath is even softer.”

Hermione gaped at Fred. Ron looked like he was going to murder him.

“Well, bye then.” Fred thought they were both now sufficiently bothered and he could go back to scheming with George, Ginny and the unwilling Harry. But he couldn’t help himself from giving Hermione a quick peck on the cheek as he left.

Both Ron and Hermione were too shell-shocked to look at anything in the Common Room but each other. If they had, they would have seen three red-headed figures shaking, trying to conceal laughter, and one black-haired figure shaking his head in disbelief.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron hissed.

“That was rather inappropriate,” Hermione agreed. Then, she started to look as if she were trying to solve a complicated Arithmancy Rune.

Ron merely looked like he wanted to throttle anyone who came in his general direction. “I don’t know what Fred is on about but…”

He trailed off at the same time that Hermione’s eyes widened. They seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time. She said, “Oh Merlin.”

Ron added, “He knows about us!”

Hermione nodded grimly. “He knows and he’s just trying to freak us out.”

“That’s the only explanation for it.”

Hermione huffed, rather offended. “Yes Ron, because how could he possibly be attracted to me?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Ron shot back. “Calm down.”

“Oh, because telling me to calm down always does the trick.”

Ron grinned, leaning in a little closer. “No, but it definitely makes me want to–.”

Hermione, laughing now, pushed him away and cut him off. “Fred thinks he’s so slick messing with us.”

Ron was back to being annoyed. He looked over at Fred, noticing who he was sitting with. Besides Harry, the group was too busy talking over each other and waving their hands around to notice that the subjects of their scheming were staring right at them. Harry didn’t notice because his face was planted firmly between his hands, clearly miserable.

Thoughtfully, Ron said, “But…they don’t know that we know that they know.”

Hermione was, of course, the cleverest witch of her age; but even she had to take a few moments to work that out. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ron explained, “you should go over there and flirt back.”

“Absolutely not!” Hermione shrieked. 

Ron, being just as much of a Weasley prankster as his siblings, was already scheming himself. “Yes, it’s perfect. He can dish it out but I doubt he could take it himself.”

Hermione (who like Harry didn’t have any brothers or sister, never mind Weasley siblings) was much more inclined to just admit to the relationship rather than play games. However, she was also annoyed to have been the object of such games and decided she should at least try to return the (uncomfortable) favor.

“What did you have in mind?” Hermione asked. “I didn’t exactly flirt with you, if you remember. I can’t exactly go over there and shout at him to admit his feelings for me.”

After a few minutes of back and forth between the two of them, Hermione walked over in the direction of Harry, Ginny, and the twins. Ron managed to find a part of the common room where he would have the ability to see everything that happened without being seen himself.

“Hello again Fred.”

Harry, Ginny, and the twins looked up at Hermione quickly, stopping their conversation immediately.

“Hullo,” Fred said neutrally, forgetting that he should be charming her. George elbowed him, and he immediately turned suave. “I mean, hello Hermione.”

“Sorry for being so…odd earlier,” Hermione said. Her voice wasn’t very steady, so she cleared her throat. “I mean, you just caught me by surprise. But now that I’ve had some time to get over the initial shock, I wanted to let you know that I’m…intrigued.“

It was Fred’s turn to get squeaky. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “Maybe sometime I can show you how soft my…robes…are.”

Although Hermione started off confident, she almost choked on the word robes. She then rushed off to the girls’ dormitory, clearly unable to keep up the charade any longer. Ron, knowing he was unable to join her because of the spell on the girls’ stairway, merely rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s questionable acting skills and went up to the boys’ dormitory.

Ginny recovered from her shock first. “I cannot believe she would do that to Ron–.”

Harry shook his head. “She definitely wouldn’t do that to Ron. And she could barely get out that pickup line out. They know you know.”

“Well that didn’t last long,” George sighed.

“I cannot believe those two,” Ginny fumed.

“They thought they could mess with us!” Fred said.

“But now they don’t know that we know they know we know!” George exclaimed.

“What?” Harry sputtered. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Fred, along with the other two Weasleys, ignored him. “If she wants a date? She’s going to get a date.”

Harry had no say in the matter as another plan started to take shape.

***

Fred commenced the first part of their plan the next morning in the Great Hall. He had managed to convince Harry to delay Ron from coming down to breakfast before Hermione. Ginny had pushed Hermione to go on down with her before the two boys, telling her that she didn’t want to be late for class. Both Fred and George were pleased to see Hermione finishing her breakfast alone when they walked in, as Ginny had just gotten up to leave when she spotted her brothers. She gave them a wink as she passed them.

“Be sexy,” Ginny whispered.

Fred snorted. “Please.” Then, “All right, I’m going in.”

Fred sat next to Hermione, who stopped with her spoon of porridge halfway to her mouth. She looked at Fred warily as he said, “So Hermione. I’d love to hang out tonight…in private.”

“R-really?” Hermione stammered.

“Oh absolutely.” Fred brushed her shoulder with his own gently. “Shall we say, around seven? Room of Requirement?”

“Umm…” Hermione managed to say.

By this time, Ron and Harry were walking into the Great Hall. Ron, seeing Fred sitting next to Hermione and her deer-in-headlights expression, narrowed his eyes. He and Hermione locked gazes and Ron nodded, then motioned with his hand as if to say Go on.

Hermione still wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue this charade. But she also very much wanted Fred to stop giving her his come hither look, so she simply nodded and said “Okay” in the hopes that would get him to go away.

“Good. I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on your…” he paused, raising his eyebrows meaningfully, then continued, “robes.”

And with another strategic brush of his shoulders, Fred rose from the table and strode out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry had finally reached Hermione by this time. While Ron plopped himself next to Hermione, Harry decided that he would rather take his breakfast to go. He grabbed a handful of toast, mumbled something about having to finish some homework before class, and left quickly.

Neither Hermione nor Ron were disappointed by Harry’s exit, as it gave them time to catch up on what had just happened. As soon as Hermione had finished giving Ron a word-by-word account of what had just occurred, Ron said, “All right, this will be great. You just make him think you wanna fool around with him. It’ll totally stop him in his tracks.”

“What?!” Hermione hissed, blushing furiously. “Listen, how far are we going to take this? Specifically, how far am I going to have to go with Fred?”

“Relax,” Ron assured her. “He’s gonna give in way before you do.”

“How do you know?!”

Ron did not know. After all, Fred had a history of taking jokes very, very far. But Ron was more focused on winning this sibling rivalry than thinking logically. So he merely said, “Trust me. Just meet him tonight. I’ll be there too. It’ll be fine.”

As it turned out, the Room of Requirement became exactly what it needed for both teams. Most likely because both Fred and Hermione wanted a place that was private, but that also allowed the extra parties involved to listen in on the action. Hermione and Ron arrived first, so the room became a living room with a hidden room for Ron to stay in. Then, when Fred, George, Ginny and Harry arrived, the room created a hallway for this group to stand in.

Harry wasn’t going to join them at first, but Ginny had told him that “The sooner Fred breaks Hermione the sooner this is all over and out in the open,” so he had acquiesced to helping them.

When all of the onlookers were situated in their respective places, Fred knocked on the door that had appeared when he arrived at the Room of Requirement. Hermione answered it, trying not to look uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“Fred.”

Fred leaned against the doorframe and said, “Hermione.”

“Come in,” Hermione opened the door further and moved aside. 

Fred was much better at this ruse, and strutted through the room as if he had no qualms about what was about to happen. Hermione both admired this and also was terrified by it.

Fred may have seemed unbothered, but he was starting to worry about just how far he would have to go to win this. While he didn’t find Hermione unattractive, he thought of her as a sister and was frankly a little disturbed about doing more with her than the innocent brushes of arms and shoulders he had already done. Plus, she was dating his brother now, and he did have a rule about messing around with anyone a family member or friend was interested in: don’t. 

Suddenly, a bottle of Firewhiskey and two cups appeared on the counter of the room. Fred, noticing them first, was relieved and said, “Ah, perfect. Would you like some firewhiskey?”

Hermione wasn’t much of a drinker, but she decided this was the perfect time to start. She nodded, and Fred poured a knuckle’s worth of the drink into both of the cups. He handed her one, and they clinked their glasses together.

“Cheers,” Fred said.

They both downed their drinks in one gulp instead of sipping at it. Hermione spent another few moments coughing since she wasn’t used to the burn of the alcohol. Fred poured himself another glass and finished it just as quickly.

Sufficiently liquored up for the moment, Fred said, “So. Here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No,” Hermione said, sounding nervous. “You?”

“Nope,” Fred said. “I want this to happen.”

Hermione nodded gravely and said, “So do I,” even though she clearly did not look like she wanted it happen. 

Neither of them moved. Both of them jumped when music started playing in the room. Fred, feeling spurred on by the room, held out is hand and asked, “Want to dance?”

“Er, sure,” Hermione said.

She tentatively took Fred’s hand. He pulled her a little closer, and she stiffened. Fred, not wanting to pull her any closer either, merely put his other hand at her hip. They swayed like that for a few moments, the space between them as wide as if another person were in the middle.

Unable to take it any longer, Hermione pushed away. She said, “I have to…use the restroom.”

“Oh,” Fred said, secretly relieved that they were no longer dancing. “Okay. I’ll…uh…pour us more firewhiskey.”

Hermione was already opening the bathroom door before he could finish. Ron, who had heard everything, said, “We’ve almost got him, I can feel it.”

“This is getting out of hand,” Hermione insisted.

“We’re so close, Hermione,” Ron said. “Get back out there and seduce him until he cracks!”

At the same time, Fred was telling his crew, “She’s not backing down!”

“It’s Hermione,” Ginny said. “You can take her.”

“Maybe you should take off your shirt,” George suggested.

“Oooh yes, good idea,” Ginny nodded. “She gets embarrassed so easily, especially when there’s naked flesh.”

Harry, hoping this would have been over by now, said nothing.

Fred pulled his shirt off, handed it to George, and went back inside. He was closing the door again right as Hermione came out of the bathroom again. When she noticed that he now had no shirt on, she stopped and looked anywhere but him.

A few seconds later, she noticed that he was at the door and said hopefully, “Oh, you’re going?”

Fred whipped around quickly, which made Hermione start looking around again in order not to look directly at his bare chest. He said, “No, no. I’m not leaving. Just, uh, getting more comfortable.” He paused. “This is my chest.”

Hermione swallowed hard. “Yes, I - I noticed. It’s very…nice.” She was not, in fact, looking at his chest enough to determine if it was nice or not.

Fred had decided enough was enough, and that he needed to finish this off once and for all. He blurted out, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Hermione, now looking down at her shoes, seemed rooted to the spot as Fred came closer. Fred took his time crossing the room, pausing at each step. It was as if he was waiting for Hermione to break each time he moved one foot forward. She never did.

Finally, Fred’s feet were right next to hers, which she noticed because she was still looking determinedly down.

At this point, if Hermione had looked up, she would have seen the crease that had finally made its way on Fred’s forehead. He was not looking forward to this, but Ron had never gained the upper hand on him before and Fred wasn’t going to let him start now.

Fred decided to give Hermione a warning, at least, and said, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Fred leaned forward, but as soon as he did Hermione jumped back as if he had burned her. She shouted, “Okay! You win! I can’t kiss you!”

Fred, looking triumphant, shouted, “And why not?!”

“Because I’m in love with Ron!”

At first, Hermione looked surprised by her own admission. Ron opened the bathroom door, looking just as shocked. They seemed to only have eyes for each other. Eventually a lopsided grin appeared on Ron’s face at the same time that Hermione started beaming.

As George, Ginny, and Harry opened the door behind Fred, Hermione repeated confidently, “Love him! That’s right, I love Ron!”

She ran to Ron and flung her arms around his neck. She told him, more quietly than her previous declarations, “I love you, Ron.”

Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him. He was grinning broadly from ear to ear. “I love you too, Hermione.”

Then he kissed her long and hard, not giving a damn who knew about their relationship. To Harry’s immense relief, neither Ron nor Hermione cared any longer about keeping this a secret. 

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 11

Sorry this is taking forever, but here's ch 11.

MAIN STORY

Oh, shit, do we have to fight Gilbert next? AND ANNETTE? This suuukkkkks. It especially sucks since you know they didn't have a choice but to risk their lives just defending themselves.

Annette is so precious. Fuck. I don't want to fight her.

Gilbert being a good daddy though 😭😭😭😭

At least CF was entertaining. SB is a giant snoozefest where I have to kill all my favorites.

Man, they all sound like psychopaths. They're all super excited to go kill people who are just defending themselves. Even Dorothea's only worried about marriage.

MAP/SIDE STUFF

Shez just said that everyone who gets killed in the war "is standing in our way." Imagine comparing self-defense to "getting in our way." Yikes for that characterization compared to how concerned GW!Shez is about Claude's aggressive decisions.

Lamo, Mercedes is like wtf am I doing here fighting the Kingdom and Annie? 

Aww, Marianne (and Dorothea) are like the only two who realize they're fighting other people and not just being all murder happy like the rest. 

Dimitri just got put on par with Holst and Caspars dad by Balthis, kind of, unofficially best Kingdom warrior? 

We're addressing the Ferdinand and Hubert subplot again. Which is good. It's by far the most interesting part of SB. Though, it's just a repeat of what we've seen from it before.

Ok, they're adding some different stuff which is interesting. Bringing up that even if Fredie's dad tried to retire and stay out of Edelgard's way, that he would still have to die because of what he symbolizes. Hubert and Ferdinand disagree on whether people like Mr. Aegir can get a second chance (as in, can you when you've become a symbol).

This is especially interesting to me in regards to what happens to Rhea, Dimitri, and Claude if they surrender to Edelgard and become her puppets. Basically, Hubert is saying that, no matter what, they'd have to die because anyone who would rebel would use (fill in here) as a symbol of their resistance. Claude may be the sole exception here because he can scoot off to Almyra, but it's very obvious that Rhea and Dimitri (and their staunch allies) are fighting for their lives, because even if we're generous and say Edelgard would spare them and give them life worth living (i.e. not locked up), Hubert would most certainly have them assassinated.

Which also brings up another point. People always talk about how it's wrong/bad for Dimitri to try and spare Edelgard at the end of AM because what kind of life would she live? But always praise Edelgard for trying to spare Rhea towards the end of CF but no one - not a single soul - asks what kind of life would Rhea live? I gotta make my own post about that.

SB is really gonna be - kill yo dad, the route. Ironic since I played this the day after Father's Day.

I have to fight Sylvain 😭

SHEZ & MANUELA A SUPPORT

Manuela is flirting with Shez lol. He said he liked her voice and she pushed him with like "is that all" until he talked about her looks lamo

Aww, Shez actually likes her hungover side. Saying he likes warrior her, singer her, healer her, and drunk her. That's kinda cute, actually

Shez said that he can't keep his eyes off her. Laying it on a bit thick. And said she's more attractive now than she was younger haha.

Yeah, Shez, I have no idea how she was supposed to see that in any other way lol.

HUBERT & LYSITHEA B SUPPORT

Hubert finds Lysithea studying at night and teases her about ghosts. She runs away.

The Imperial Army is a bunch of children who don't want to eat their veggies. This is 100% cannon. Hubert orders guards to sneak them into soups for the soldiers actually get their veggies. I cannot. (though, imagine the privilege, Faerghus could never)

Lysithea freaks out because she ate veggies.

Veggies are legitimately delicious though. I don't know what the Imperial Army's problem is.

EDELGARD & MONICA A SUPPORT

Guys, I'm so excited. A Monica support. I wonder what she'll talk about.

Monica counts how many times Edelgard worried about her and invited her to tea. I just . . . no.

This support was pure cringe.

I love how "Kingdom bad" because they're willing to die to defend their homes, family, friends, and everything and anything else they've loved from invaders, but Monica is to be admired because she's oh so loyal to Edelgard that even in when Edelgard leaves her for dead, it's a happy moment for Monica because it helps Edelgard's cause. Like . . . double standard much?

PETRA & CONSTANCE C SUPPORT

Constance is something else. She confronts Petra because Petra's dad invaded and it led to the demise of Constance's everything.

I enjoy supports that address conflict, but girl, that was not Petra's fault. Don't take it out on her.

Oh, good, she's not. She recognizes that Petra's people suffered, and that neither of them were involved, so there's no bad blood.

Then she hahahas and leaves. Lamo, this made me love Constance.

Petra doesn't get a chance to say she agrees and seeks out Constance, but finds her in the sunlight, and needlessly to say, is very confused.

MAIN BATTLE

Hubert and Edelgard just said submit or die.

Wow, Linhardt is like I wish the nobles would think about all the people who they're forcing to fight. The lack of self-awareness is astounding.

Ferdinand can join the "lack of self-awareness club" for acting like it's the Kingdom causing the violence.

Baron Dominic opened the gate, risking his defenses to rescue soldiers. Hubert judged him. But we're supposedly the good guys. I swear the writing goes out of it's way to make the Kingdom look good.

Fuck. I have to fight Gustave :( He dead :( Poor Annette.

FUCK. Now I have to fight Annette.

Fuck this route. Ingrid, Rodrigue, Gustave, and now Annette - all dead.

Even Baron Dominic's death is making me sad. None of the Empire generals get this kind of humanization when they die lol.

Edelgard and Hubert sound insane. Edelgard's acting like their deaths were inevitable because of their lineage (when they would've been just fine if not for her actions), and Hubert's like he's happy to die so it doesn't matter. What a bunch of looney tunes.

Edelgard just said whoever wins gets to decide what's right. I mean, victors do write the history but yikes at the implications.

So deep - "we're up against the world itself." Sounds like a teenage edge-lord wrote this lamo.

We got crusher. Joy. Did they pry it out of Annette's dead hands?

Oh, joy, more backtracking. Revolts in the Empire. I thought we were out of the backtracking era and into kill every Blue Lion era.

xxxx

[eatmyass-x]

After all is said and done, red is somehow still Wei Wuxian’s favourite colour.

No amount of blood, guts, or blazing battlefields have managed to sway his heart. None of those things even spring to mind when his eyes catch on the sharp hues of the colour red, time and time again.

For Wei Wuxian, red is something else entirely. Red is a silky ribbon dancing in the sunlight as his mother throws her head back in laughter, her mouth a matching shade after kissing her husband and son silly. It’s what reminds him that she was real and not just a figment of his imagination, feverish as he is from hunger. That he really did have a mother and a father who loved him and wanted him, before all the years he spends barefoot on the streets of Yiling.

And on those very streets of Yiling, as he’s scavenging through the rubbish and refuse, Wei Wuxian will happen upon pieces of watermelon rind. And on that watermelon rind, sometimes, just sometimes, will be small traces of leftover watermelon pulp. Under the burning summer sun these few scrapes of cool watermelon are a gift from the heavens. Shimmering in the sunlight, red and translucent, like the jewels he’s seen some of the women in the marketplace wear. He falls asleep happy and only slightly less hungry on those nights.

The slice of watermelon Jiang Fengmian feeds him the day he finds Wei Wuxian is juicier and tastier and redder than any he’s ever eaten before. Jiang Fengmian carries him to Lotus Pier and changes his life forever, and all the while Wei Wuxian’s fingertips are still stained red with watermelon juice.

It’s a pale colour, much paler than the bright, eye-catching red accents Uncle Jiang lets him pick out for his official robes. The robes are not quite the Jiang purple, for Madam Yu would have never allowed that. But neither are they the dull tones and coarse fabric of the servants’ robes, for Uncle Jiang would not allow that. Instead they are his, just his. One little thing that belongs to Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Ying!”

The voice is like music to his ears, enraged as it sounds. He turns just in time for Lan Wangji to throw a sheet of paper at his face. Wei Wuxian already knows it must be his own assignment from this morning — the one with the hidden ode to Lan Wangji’s beauty. He winks in response and Lan Wangji looks murderous. But a blush is quickly spreading across his face, over his nose and his cheeks, all the way up to his ears. They turn a furious, bright scarlet right before Wei Wuxian’s eyes, looking like they would burn him if he tried to touch.

No one else has ever garnered such a reaction from the second jade of Lan. No one else ever will. Another little thing that belongs to Wei Wuxian alone.

But for a while there is darkness, pitch black, neither here nor there. He’s not sure whether he likes this shade of black or not. Then suddenly years have passed and he’s watching as Lan Sizhui throws himself in front of a small child, lifting him away from the reach of a resentful spirit, before crashing right into a tree.

Wei Wuxian quickly deals with the spirit and rushes over. Sizhui is too busy fussing over the completely unharmed child to realise the side of his face has been scratched up by the tree branches. Small pinpricks of red well to the surface of his skin, fresh and warm and alive. Living, breathing, eating, laughing, saving little children by putting his own life on the line.

Wei Wuxian’s heart swells. ‘It was all worth it,’ he thinks to himself. ‘It was all worth it for you. All the pain, all the suffering. I would do it all again. I would go through it all again and again and again. Just to keep the crimson blood thrumming through your veins. Just to keep you alive, to keep you safe.’

Sizhui must mistake his awestruck staring for concern. “I’m sorry, Wei-qianbei,” he says. “But the little boy. I had to save him.”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian smiles, cupping Sizhui’s face gently. “Yes, you did.”

In the evening he recounts the events of the day to Lan Wangji with just the right amount of exaggeration to spice things up. “Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighs eventually. “Your A-Yuan really is the bravest, kindest boy.”

“Our A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji corrects, pulling him in by the waist. His eyes are filled with so much love, so much adoration. It’s just too much for Wei Wuxian to handle. He buries his blushing face in Lan Wangji’s broad chest, against his beating heart, breathing in sandalwood.

And that’s when he spots something; a small imperfection in Lan Wangji’s usually perfect clothing. The pure white of his robe is not white after all. It has turned a pale pink from being washed together with Wei Wuxian’s red inner robe.

[11thwardtls]

Memory Defrag | TRACK 3 - RECORD B | Azekawa Kinari's Ward Mayor Novel Translation

Warnings and Disclaimers:

This translation is not professionally done and is not proofread. Edits and clean-ups may come at a later date.

Not a 1:1 translation either and some liberties into localization were taken into account.

This novel will contain spoilers for the Ev3ns Main Story: "Chained Up Scarlet".

Appropriate Content and Trigger Warnings will be added if needed.

May be used for quotebots/masterlists etc.

I am not fluent and self-studying Japanese (albeit at turtle speed), this was translated by ear and with the help of a JP dictionary, so please feel free to point out any errors!

CW: Discussions about Death and Terminal Illness, Referenced Suicide Attempt

—/—/—/—/—/—

The data has transferred into its next phase. 

Reflected into my retinas, I found myself in the Azekawa Family’s living room where I was developed and spent my days in.

“Shut up already, you shitty dad!” 

Kinari was yelling.

He was eighteen years old. It was at that age that I was modeled after him. We had the same exact appearance.

He was wearing his high school uniform and he had a grim expression on his face.

“Watch your words, Kinari!” 

At the same time, the developer was similarly raising his voice.

“Where did you go when you skipped out on going to the hospital?! Make sure to see the doctor today!”

“Why do I have to go to the damn[1] hospital everyday?! It’s not like I’ll get any better if I go…!”

“Why can’t you understand that this is for your own good?!”

The depths of the developer’s heart is overflowing with cries of sadness.

The feeling of being unreasonably worried. The feeling of being uneasy and helpless. 

At the same time, he is also feeling uncontrollably furious at his son who won’t listen to his heart and continues to rebel against him.  

“Anyway, I’ve got plans to go karaoke[2] with my friends today. I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.” 

“Just karaoke?”

“Hey, if I’m gonna drop dead tomorrow, I might as well die doing what I love, right?!”

Watching through the developer’s memories, this Kinari was akin to brightly burning fire. 

A blazing, fiery blue inferno. 

At the very least, that’s how it appeared in the developer’s eyes. That’s what is being conveyed to me. 

A strong life force that burns fiercely and with all of its might, despite being cloaked in death. 

Kinari was shining with intense emotions and sheer will. 

With such momentum, even the developer was overwhelmed. 

“If I’m dying anyway… I’ll die singing.”

After spitting it all out, Kinari left the house.

The developer fell to his knees and covered his face with one of his hands. 

“...Kinari…”

[I’ll find a way to make you sing forever. I swear on it, I’ll make sure you’d get to sing as much as you want.]

I can feel the developer’s heart trembling. 

Feeling despair knowing that it would be impossible, he decided to complete that life extending treatment no matter what. 

He was filled with determination to make that happen. Because Kinari will definitely become a singer, after all. 

Did Kinari know about how his father felt?

As an android, I do not know the answer to that question.

All I know is that despite the developer’s strong determination, his hopes did not bear fruition.

[I only realize the things important to me when it’s too late.]

[Perhaps that’s just the way life is.]

Suddenly, from the corner of my memory, his words that I heard the other day came back as if they were flickering.

My vision then went dark.

—/—/—/—/—/—

Somewhere, I could hear the sound of rain. 

From within the darkness, a faint light from a street lamp shines through the window.

Inside that gray landscape, Kinari was there, crouching down and crying out.

[It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.[3]]

[It’s frustrating, so frustrating, so frustrating.]  

A painful emotion was surrounding Kinari. 

[Why do I have to die? I want to live too.]

His screams of agony blended in with the sound of rain. 

Whose… memory is this? 

The developer’s or Kinari’s?

That desire to live was unyielding more than anything else. It was strong, intense, and harsh, burning away at his heart with a redundant force that it seemed as if it could reduce his human body into ashes.

That’s what I understood. 

—/—/—/—/—/—

As the image disappeared from my retinas, my consciousness went adrift into slumber. 

I’m currently in semi-conscious mode.

[Would you like to suspend Sleep Mode?]

[Would you like to continue viewing data?]

Without replying to these message boxes that have appeared, I reflected on the video I had just seen, as well as the emotions I felt while watching it.

I wonder what this feeling is.

Something feels afloat within my heart. 

…I’ll think about it for a moment.

This heavy, bleak, sharp feeling is probably—Sadness. Sorrow. Frustration.

Perhaps these words would be close enough.

…Why did the ‘Original’ refuse to go to the hospital?

Doubt flooded my mind.

He wanted to live an intense life.

If he thought about it logically, he’d have a higher chance of surviving had he gone to the hospital.

I also wonder about the words, ‘I want to live’ and ‘If I had to die, I’d rather die singing’, which of them were his true feelings?

Raito, too, had said something similar. 

If I recall...

When I first met Raito, the person who had accepted [The Death Prophecy], despite having no desire to die, it’s as if he dove straight first into a trap just to kill himself.

Humans do not live their lives with a focus on rationality.

Sometimes, they act out because of something else compelling them to do so, those of which could be called emotions, desire or hope.

To this day, I still cannot comprehend it.

However, there are now ‘feelings’ that come to mind at present.

If the current ‘me’ relives and experiences what I had in the past, will I accept them?

Will it help develop the sensitivity as I had asked for?

I closed the page as I overwrote the browsing data with new findings, then responded to the message box. 

[Would you like to suspend Sleep Mode?]

No.

[Would you like to continue viewing data?]

Yes. 

This time, I opened the past recorded data that I had saved myself.

—/—/—/—/—/—

Translation Notes: 

1 - Kinari uses a very rude speech pattern here which felt difficult to translate into English, so I added a swear word instead. Gets the work done, I prommy. Also if it helps, og!Kinari uses 俺 (ore), and our!Kinari uses 自分 (jibun), in case anyone wants to know how to tell who speaks apart for reading the raw JP text.

2 - Might be completely an unreasonable note / speculation again, but this karaoke plan might be the same one that ties in with Tao’s novel: Back to the 99 Track 1-2 / Main Story SideA-01 and SideB-07. 

3 - This series of lines is repeating, 悲しい and 悔しい 3 times over and over. The flow when literally translated felt off so I translated them with the hopes that the word choice conveys something similar!

—/—/—/—/—/—

Directory:

Main Page | TRACK 1 | TRACK 2 | TRACK 3 | TRACK 4 | TRACK 5

[featherquillpen]

All That is Beautiful: a FE3H meta

I have been watching Kita Nash's excellent stream of the Scarlet Blaze route in Three Hopes, and there was a support conversation that got me thinking about beauty, goodness, and body image in Fódlan.

The Ferdinand and Bernadetta support in Three Hopes is very funny and cute. Ferdie challenges Bernie to a plant collecting contest, and like the most precious little fool in the world, he collects "edible plants" based purely on whether they look pretty.

This is, of course, extremely silly. But if you think about it, Ferdinand's belief that any plant that is beautiful must also be good actually follows directly from what he would believe as a devout follower of the Church of Seiros. There is a line in the Book of Seiros that reads as follows in the English edition:

"The goddess cares for and protects all that is beautiful in this world."

The excellent Teaspoon Translations gives us this direct translation of the Japanese edition:

"The Lord considers all beautiful things to be good."

If Ferdinand truly believes in this teaching, then it would actually follow that because the plants are beautiful, they must be good. And then I thought, what are the other implications of this belief? How does this apply to people, rather than plants?

It is implied that both Edelgard and Hubert consider themselves to be ugly. They both keep themselves completely covered below the neck at all times. Even in her "Summer Edelgard" art, unlike all the other FE girls, she wears a one-piece bathing suit, not a bikini. In Fire Emblem Heroes, Edelgard refers to her power as "hideous strength." In his support chain with Bernadetta, Hubert says that he knows his appearance is frightening, and if you choose him as the competitor for the White Heron Cup, he describes the sight of himself dancing as "grotesque." As former devout believers in the Church who have now turned against it, they likely believe that because they have forsaken the Goddess's protection and care, they have forsaken their beauty, as well.

If the Goddess cares for and protects everything that is beautiful, then if you stop being beautiful, what happens to the Goddess's care and protection? Likely many Fódlaners raised in the Church of Seiros live with the fear that if they lose their beauty, they will lose the Goddess's favor. Manuela, a devout believer, is preoccupied with the supposed loss of her beauty. Ferdinand says at teatime that he grooms his eyebrows every day. Many of the supports among female characters (Hilda/Lysithea and Dorothea/Ingrid come to mind) are about makeup and the quest to look pretty. Of course, some of this has to do with the importance of marriage for the livelihood of women in Fódlan, but even characters like Lysithea and Annette who don't have marriage on their minds are pulled into the obsession with beauty.

In conclusion, I think body image issues and an unhealthy obsession with appearances are rampant in Fódlan because of this particular teaching from the Church, reflected in people like Edelgard and Hubert who think they must be ugly because they have turned away from the goddess, and in people who want to earn the goddess's favor by being as beautiful as they can.

(Naturally, all of the beautiful plants that Ferdie picked were poisonous.)

[duckprintspress]

February 2024 Created Works Round-Up!

Duck Prints Press’s monthly “created works round-ups” are our opportunity to spotlight some of the amazing work that people working with us have done that ISN’T linked to their work with Duck Prints Press. We include fanworks, outside publications, and anything else that creators feel like sharing with y’all. Inclusion is voluntary and includes anything that they decided “hey, I want to put this on the created work’s round-up!”

Check out what they’ve shared with us this month…

-

Eliot Rocks the Memory Palace, Chapter Four: Art by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

art || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || complete

summary: After dinner, Monster!Eliot takes Quentin sightseeing in New York City by moonlight.

There's a lovely view from the 103rd floor of the Empire State Building.

And the Monster set a nice cheery fire blazing in the bay.

Heights are fun.

other tags: falling, heights, possession

TUMBLR - AO3 - INSTAGRAM

​

All We Need Is One Good Day (Any Day That You're Alive), Chapter 1 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || mature || creator choses not to use warnings || 2,097 || work in progress

summary: A fluffy fic mixing the books by Lev Grossman with the show from SyFy, in which Quentin and Eliot do get to spend that summer together, but build on their immediate friendship to get together from day one of Q's classes.

AO3

​

Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 10 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator choses not to use warnings || 124 || ongoing series

summary: I'm writing a series of haiku about Eliot and Quentin's lives together at the Mosaic (the timeloop lifetime in which they loved each other for 50 years). Just like the patterns they build there, I'll forever be adding new haiku, but yet the story is also always complete. My hope is to reflect the beauty of all life, just like they did.

AO3

​

Sailing to Blackspire, Chapter 5 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 11,539 || work in progress

summary: Quentin says he's staying with a Monster for all Eternity.

Eliot says, "Hell, no. Not without me."

In which Eliot and Quentin use their time aboard the Muntjac on the way to Castle Blackspire more wisely.

In this chapter, the friends continue to do their best to find alternate ways to turn magic back on, without Quentin and Eliot getting stuck in Castle Blackspire.

other tags: Canon-typical danger. Also, regarding the fic as a whole, please heed the rating. This is AU, but jumps off from canon at a specific point within 3x13. The characters don't know what I'm trying to fix because for them it hasn't happened (and in this fic, it never will). But Eliot (his POV) clearly knows that Quentin's life is ultimately in danger.

AO3

​

never a god by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu

fiction || mysterious lotus casebook || m/m, poly (one gender: male) || li lianhua/fang duobing/di feisheng, di feisheng/fang duobing || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,077 || ongoing series

summary: The evening shift at the House of Scarlet Delights starts out just like any other.

other tags: Post Canon, Sex Work, Genderfluid Li Lianhua

AO3

​

bringing a gun to chekhov's house by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu

fiction || dune (2021), dune - frank herbert || f/m || paul atreides/chani kynes || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,895 || work in progress

summary: Chani sees him first in lectures. This is because he can’t stop staring at her. It’s unsubtle. It’s derivative. It’s the start of every novel written by a white man drowning in his own midlife crisis. Chani is wise to it; to him.

After a while, she realises she’s still looking right back.

other tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Academia, Postcolonialism, Breakup

AO3

​

On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes by Tris Lawrence / @tryslora

writing craft blog post || original work || no ships || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,523 || complete

summary: This post talks about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). It is primarily SFW.

TUMBLR - PILLOWFORT

​

[mysteriouslover1516]

Moon (Richy x MC) 3

Based on Jonah Kagen's song Moon. Read Part 1 and Part 2 first if not already done so.

I’ve got demons, you’ve got scars

But all the bumps and bruises take us the place we are

The smell of smoke and gasoline hit MC with a vengeance as the light in the distance grew closer, making her soon come to a startling realization. The light wasn’t a lantern, nor was it a flashlight…..it was actual flames. Faint coughing reached her ears as she picked up on the sound of crackling, roaring flames; the fire hungrily sapping up fuel.

We’ve been through heaven and then we fell

And you might think it’s over

“Hello?” MC called out hesitantly, debating whether or not to turn the corner, knowing she would then be vulnerable and out in the open. Who would she come face to face with? Michael? Richy? Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, the smell of fumes making her mind spin and eyes burn. She couldn’t be afraid, not now, he needed her, Richy needed her.

But the story’s ours to tell

Just know that I will be with you

Richy opened his eyes, his mind whirling. Was he hallucinating? Were the fumes getting to his head? He could have sworn he heard a voice, he heard her voice. But that was impossible…..she had sent Alan in her place. Alan had rescued Hannah, left the mine with her clasping tightly to his arm. He had watched them exit the Grimstone, then he shut the trap door behind them, making sure no one else could venture back inside. He couldn’t put anyone else’s life back in danger, not again, not anymore. As the smoke started to fill his lungs, his chest ached, his body quickly succumbing to an immense coughing fit, eyes closing once more.

Just keep looking for the moon and I’ll be here

While you’re searching for your life out in the dark

Stepping out of the shadows and into the blazing light casted by the dancing flames, MC’s thoughts slowly came to a stand still. All too familiar messy, blonde hair; those ocean blue eyes she had come to adore hidden behind closed lids; the slight dimples; staring straight back at her. Was he dead? “Richy?!” Her eyes flickered away from his face, gaze falling on his upper body. The navy blue hoodie he wore was coated with dirt and grime, a once-white wrapping barely clinging on to his right arm, stained crimson red. No, this wasn’t happening. No.

Looking for the moon, you’ll see it clear

Cause it shines the same wherever you are

The mechanic’s eyes snapped open as he heard his name being spoken, his eyes locking with those of the girl before him. Her face was pale, her hands shaking, he noticed the slight biting of her bottom lip, oh god. The red glow of the roaring flames mirrored themselves in her sad, beautiful eyes; tears starting to cascade down her cheeks and glisten in the mocking scarlet and maroon lighting. “MC.”

Let it guide you, don’t look behind you

If you stay within the light, I’ll always find you

In that moment, MC’s world fell apart,  it felt like her heart was shattering into a thousand billion pieces. Pieces that she would never be able to recover, that were impossible to glue together without cutting herself on the sharp shards. Pieces she wasn’t even sure she wanted to face ever again, pieces to relive. Jake was right…… oh god, he was right.  It was Richy, it was Richy all along.

Looking for the moon, and I’ll be here

If you don’t ever have to feel alone

“MC,” The blonde’s voice cracked as he watched her resolve fade. In that moment he was sure he had lost her, he had seen it, leaving him looking into a sad, desolate wasteland of racing emotions.

Cause I will be with you

“It was you.” MC barely recognized her own voice, the quietness of it startling her. “You.” More tears started to rapidly fall from her eyes, “Richy, how could you? How could you do this to Hannah, to your friends, to Jessy. How could you do this to ME?” She choked as she remembered the video call where he faked his death, the pain she had experienced then was nothing compared to what she felt now. “I loved you, Richy! When you….when I thought you died…..I cried so hard for you, I cried myself to sleep! Do you even care?!”

I will be with you

Keep looking for the moon

I will be with you

“Of course I cared!” Richy pleaded, struggling to his feet, a groan escaping his lips as his arm screamed its dismay at the sudden movement. “It killed me to do that to you! To know what kind of an effect it would have on you, what toll it would take! I-”

In my letters and in my songs

It’s the thought of you that fills them up

And keeps me feeling strong

“Then why would you do it?!” MC cried, barely registering the mechanic closing the gap between them. “Why Richy? You said you cared for me, and then you-”

I don’t regret it, I know it’s hard

But I know that we are greater than the sum of our hearts

Just know that I will be with you 

Ignoring the flames enclosing around them, his head growing numb to the pain in his shoulder, he reached his injured arm up to MC’s cheek, gently brushing away her tears with his thumb. “MC, I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for it to go this far. Please, you have to believe me, I didn’t want this, MC! I never wanted this! Just give me a chance, a chance to explain, please, just give me another chance!”

Just keep looking for the moon and I’ll be here

While you’re searching for your life out in the dark

“You don’t deserve another chance, Richy!” MC cried, hating the way she felt herself leaning into his touch, the way her body was ultimately betraying her. “You deserve what’s happening to you, you deserve that gunshot wound in your shoulder! You deserve to die, Richy! You’re a monster! I-” her mouth struggled to form the words, the words that were echoing inside her head. I hate you.

Looking for the moon, you’ll see it clear

Cause it shines the same wherever you are

“MC, no,” Tear-filled blue eyes shone in the light of the flames. “Don’t say that, please. MC, I can’t lose you, god I can’t lose you! I know I deserve your hatred, I deserve you to despise me and wish me dead, but MC, I’m begging you, please, just don’t!” He subconsciously found his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his chest, noting her breath hitch at the closeness.

Let it guide you, don’t look behind you

If you stay within the light, I’ll always find you

“I don’t know you,” MC whispered as she looked up into his eyes. “The man I thought you were, it was all a lie, an act. I……..I don’t know you, and I don’t want to.” Her voice began to raise as the tears came more rapidly, suddenly trying to pull herself away from Richy’s arms. “You’re not the man I fell in love with, that guy was apparently just a figment of my imagination, he didn’t exist, he NEVER existed. You lied to me, deceived me! And I hate you, Richy! I hate you for what you did to me, for what you did to us, to Hannah. I HATE you and I hate that it’s killing me! I hate that I still find myself loving you, when all I want to feel towards you is hatred!”

Looking for the moon, and I’ll be here

Cause you don’t ever have to feel alone

“You have every right to hate me, I know.” Richy hung his head, fighting the urge to let go, instead he held her fighting and squirming in his arms. “But please, I’m begging you, don’t. I know I hurt you, I hurt you so so much. I know I took advantage of your feelings for me, I deceived you, lied to you about who I was. But you have to believe me, the affection I felt for you was all real. The feelings I shared with you, when I told you I liked you, I meant it. I know I lied to you about nearly everything, but if there is one thing you can believe me on, believe me when I say I still love you. Because MC, I still love you, and I never stopped and I never will until my dying breath! And I know you probably still hate my guts and think I’m once again trying to lead you astray with my words, but I promise, I mean it all with my whole heart!”

Cause I will be with you

I will be with you

“How am I supposed to believe you, Richy?” MC said weakly, finally resting in his hold, breath shaking. “After all you did, after so many lies, how am I supposed to believe you now? Because…….if you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have gone this far, right? If you truly loved any of us, any of your friends, you wouldn’t have allowed everything to happen. It’s hard to trust you, no matter how much my heart wants me to forgive and forget, my head screams no, my instincts say to run and not look back. To leave you to your demise, let the others believe it was Michael all along, not their friend, not their beloved mechanic, not Richy Rogers, the man who always smiled and always had a joke for them.”

And I know how it feels to be lonely and lie awake on your own (I will be with you)

And I know how it hurts when you hide

That your heart is barely holding on (I will be with you)

“I know, MC, I know.” Richy sighs as his gaze shifted from her eyes, and then to her lips. “It would be crazy of you to forgive me, to simply act as I never did anything at all to hurt you, to forget.” He opened his mouth up as if to speak some more, but no sound came out, he was truly at a loss for words. There was nothing he could say that could reverse the past, excuse his actions. Nothing.

But if you think that I’ll forget you

Then you must be crazy

Suddenly a smoldering beam fell from the mine ceiling, jarring them both back to their present circumstances, the environment mimicking a raging furnace. “Richy, we need to get you out.”

Cause honestly it’s not only you that needs saving

I will be with you

“I don’t deserve it,” The blonde shook his head. “I don’t deserve you, MC.”

"Richy, don't, please-"

Just keep looking for the moon and I’ll be here

While you’re searching for your life out in the dark

“You said so yourself, MC. I’m a monster, I deserve to die, I deserve what is happening to me. I did this to myself and now it’s time to reap the consequences.” His lips screwed into a small, bitter smirk. “As my father used to say, you made your bed now lie in it.” A hollow chuckle escaped him, here he was literally laughing at danger, at death himself.

Looking for the moon, you’ll see it clear

Cause it shines the same wherever you are

“You want another chance, right?” MC asked seriously, eyes searching his ocean blue ones, the ones she found herself once more drowning in the more she stared. “Another chance for us?”

Keep looking for the moon

I will be with you (I will be with you)

“More than anything, MC.” More tears started to cascade down Richy’s cheeks, “But I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to burn you. I don’t deserve to take your hand, to walk out of this mine with you by my side. You deserve life, I deserve death. MC, I can’t-”

Keep looking for the moon

I will be with you

Cause I will be with you

MC cut him off by pressing her lips to his, “Save it for later,” she breathed out as she pulled away. “A the moment, we need to focus on escaping. And now.”

Hey lovelies! Thanks for sticking with me on this journey! Please like or comment, I love to hear from all of you! <3 <3 Part 4 is on its way.........

[vonbergerpants]

I like your post about Caspar father and now I'm curious what's your opinion on Linhardt's father I like Linhardt's father honestly

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is just my opinion and I don't hold that against anyone who likes him. So I hope people won't be too bothered by this because I think I'm in the minority here. 😭 I'm not here to convince anyone, I'm just here to show my own takeaway on this. If you like him, that's fine!

So, my opinion on Wally: As his own character, he's fine. In fact, I think he's a pretty funny character on his own, and even funnier when Leopold is involved due to their dynamic.

But I don't like him in relation to Linhardt and what he means to him.

So I've already mentioned that my opinion of Waldemar is not a positive one. And my reason for this is simple: A lot of Linhardt's problems and personality "quirks" have always felt like a result of his upbringing, just like Caspar's. Except Caspar's problems stem from his view of himself, and Linhardt's stems from he deals with his responsibilities.

What's Linhardt's biggest problem? Other than his outwardly apathetic nature, it's the fact that he runs away from his problems.

So the question is, what sort of painful memories is he running from? Why is that his go-to solution to anything that heavily inconveniences him? He mentions never having been able to deal with his past but not once does he elaborate on what that is, and I attribute that to how private of a person he is.

And what we know about Linhardt is that he's been constantly exposed to the nobility, so I can only assume that these unpleasant memories have to do with his own upbringing.

We all know what the biggest thing he runs away from is: he doesn't want to inherit his title and house and all of the responsibilities that come with it. And yet he's resigned himself to the fact that it's an inevitability of his future. He's even using the Officer's Academy itself as an escape - a time to relax and not have to think about his noble responsibility. Essentially delaying the inevitable as much as he can.

His lack of motivation is pretty clear to everyone, even to his father - I don't have the screenshot, but in Scarlet Blaze (Three Hopes), Waldemar makes a comment about Linhardt's lack of work ethic. And yet Linhardt's still expected to take on the position of heir, even when the thought of doing so clearly makes him unhappy.

In Dorothea's support, he talks about Waldemar's pride, of which he states he has too much of it. And this is not talked about in a positive light, because in his mind, pride serves no purpose. And recall that he calls nobles who are full of pride fools.

The biggest red flag that Linhardt is not happy with his family situation is his utter lack of care for what happens if his house falls in Silver Snow. He expressed worry for what his father thinks of him not wanting to inherit the house exactly once (during his pre-timeskip advice box), and that worry completely goes out the window once he's given the option to not have to deal with it anymore.

And keep in mind that this is someone who can't stand war and bloodshed. Yet he prefers to deal with his utter disdain for violence rather than stay at home and "indulge in laziness" (as his profile states - I'd say it's more like he was forced to deal with house matters in between all of that)? Reasons involving Byleth aside (and in my mind, Caspar's the real reason, but I'm biased), you can't tell me Linhardt was perfectly fine living at home if he was willing to desert to fight in a war of all things.

He stole money from his parents to get away from there, even!!

And of course, this is also why the Casphardt ending is my favorite paired ending for Linhardt - he drops his noble title along with Caspar and truly does what he wants, which is to have freedom. Freedom from his responsibilities. Freedom from his nobility. Freedom from his father's expectations.

The only conclusion I can draw from all of this is that Waldemar doesn't give him that freedom. He may have let Linhardt indulge in laziness, but all that mattered in the end is that he has his one and only heir to take over House Hevring, regardless of whether Linhardt wants it or not.

This is a bit of a side-note, but something else that actually really rubs me the wrong way about Waldemar is the fact that he was one of the nobles who took part of the Insurrection of the Seven, and yet also decided to aid Edelgard in her reforms. So on the one hand, he took part in the event that kept the other nobles in power, and on the other he's helping with the reforms that keep nobles in check. So what gives there?

This is pure speculation, but a theory that my girlfriend (resident Linhardt expert) came up with was that it was all done to ensure his own position stayed intact, and subsequently, that of his only heir. Either way, the whole contradiction bothers me a lot.

There's also this from Three Hopes - really wish I had this screenshot, but in Azure Gleam, if Linhardt fights Waldemar, they have this exchange:

Waldemar: "At least the Hevring name will survive in some form."

Linhardt: "That's always been your concern, hasn't it?"

That's always sounded like such a biting response to me that shows that Linhardt saw Waldemar as someone who was only concerned with having the family name live on. Even if Waldemar meant it in a way that meant Linhardt himself would survive, the way it was phrased does not do him any favors for how Linhardt views him.

Linhardt is not happy with the relationship he has with his father, and because he's such a private person, he never talks or think about it. All we have are context clues to draw from and his total aversion to the idea of inheriting his house against his father's wishes doesn't feel like ungratefulness, it feels like someone who knows they would be unhappy doing that for the rest of their life but feels like they don't even have a choice, even when on the side of the war.

Having a parent who places high expectations of your future is exhausting. This is no exception and I saw no change in that in Three Hopes.

[edelgard-more-like-baedelgard]

Do you like Edelgard from Three Houses or the Edelgard from Three Hopes more? I haven't finished Three Hopes yet, but I like Edelgard in that version more personally so far

Hopes just isn't it in terms of what made me like the characters in the first place TBH. Especially since in 3 hopes Scarlet Blaze is essentially fanfic about what might happen if she'd been able to get rid of TWSITD earlier, which removes the source of a lot of her personal conflict with the war in 3 houses (Like Hubert in CF telling Byleth that Edelgard really hates using them at all but he keeps insisting to her that it's necessary and she's been reluctantly agreeing with him). Like, 3 hopes Edelgard is just Edelgard getting to do some of the things 3 houses Edelgard wishes she could have done like get rid of her Uncle's influence sooner and in Azure Gleam when she wants to talk to Dimitri (she wants to talk to him in AM too but she knows he's to stuck in upholding the status quo to actually listen to her at that point).

In terms of writing I think 3 houses is much more interesting with Edelgard being the force behind the whole story by being the only one willing to actually take action to change things in Fodlan even if it means making hard choices that make her seem the villain to those she ends up against because she's willing to face those consequences whether she wins or loses because she knew if she got the ball rolling it wouldn't stop with her even if she died.

In 3 hopes though, she didn't have to do a lot of that. She was able to prepare for war for an extra two years without TWSITD, she got an Alliance with Claude instead of having to completely subjugate the Alliance, she got Shez AND Byleth (eventually) both with extremely strong powers. It's a fun game but being as it's more hopeful fanfic it just doesn't hit the same chords for me that made me love Edelgard in the first place though her character certainly isn't BAD in Hopes or anything like that.

But part of the reason she's such a strong presence in 3 houses is her willingness to be morally gray if she believes it will help the long term goal, which doesn't come across a lot to me in 3 hopes. I love her regardless but 3 houses Edelgard will always have the best writing of the two imo

[burning-fcols]

"I really thought you were actually over me. You know since you got a boyfriend and all but I heard you literally screaming my name while he was fucking you. I just happened to stop by." He gave for an excuse. "You just can't get enough of me can you babe? You wanna get dicked down by your big dicked blitzy again? I can make that happen." for stolas - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ʙʟɪɪᴛᴢᴏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 If there was ONE thing that could possibly make his day worse, it would be a visit from his ex Blitz. So of course, that's what the universe decided to throw his way. A personal fuck-you to the royal currently trying not to rip out his feathers with grief at his latest blunder in a SERIES of romantic mishaps. Stiffening with a sharp intake of breath at the sound of a voice he'd expected to never hear again, fists clench at his sides in a trembling display of self-control. Something he could have used a little more of when screaming out Blitz's name during sex with his boyfriend.

Inhaling deeply, scarlet hues glow with barely restrained self-loathing. Shared outward with the man who continues to haunt his life, whether he chooses to even take an active part in it. Pinpricks of white shine within their frustrated depths, like two blazing stars lost in a damned sky. Spinning on his heel to face Blitz, cloak billows behind him with the action. An arm dramatically sweeps to the side as the royal exclaims, voice echoing with a hint of an unnatural growl, ❝ BLITZ! I am not in the mood for your mockery! ❞

Feathers ruffled, warning demonic rumble leaves his voice but the irritation remains, ❝ I don't need your dick. What I need is for you to LEAVE. Now. So I can figure out how to make amends with my boyfriend. The man who actually gives a shit about me and who I hurt because I called out YOUR stupid name! ❞ Hands semi-raised in front of himself, palms upright in exasperation, the owl keeps ranting at Blitz instead of forcing him out of the palace. Something he could have easily done by now should he have REALLY wanted to. ❝ Seriously, don't you have anything better to do than keep tabs on my love life? You made it explicitly clear you wanted nothing to do with it. ❞

Despite the anger in his voice, there's something deeper in his gaze. Something... pained. Confused. Broken in a way Stolas is scared to openly admit. Not when he's with Jerry. Someone who, by ALL logic, should be everything he needs. If it weren't for one glaring flaw that isn't even the lizard's fault... He's not Blitz.

Words tremble as he blinks back tears, underlying with regret rage rather than remorse. ❝ Leave. Me. ALONE... That's one of the things you do best, after all. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[themoomoorn]

Scarlet Blaze Salt Mine Highlights, Part 2 (Because I hit the image limit last time)

It's kind of a sad day when you're transitioning hyperfixations (Chainsaw Man and Tactics Ogre, in this case), because I'm tired of this game and I haven't even begun to cleanse by entire body with Azure Gleam. But I must!

Also I just wanted to finish this slog of a route so badly that I forgot to give away Shez's Merc Whistle. Oops.

Previous post is here.

He isn't wrong. If anything, between this and Egg reassuring Shez that no, betrayal totes wasn't gonna happen, this just reinforces the fact that Egg doesn't respect Claude at all.

Still, big oomph on Claude because his dreams don't even exist/make sense in this game.

Here lies the Tabletop Demon.

Kind of poetic/ironic that he's the only one who can truly die, while poor Dimitri, who gets dragged around like a wet cat in Houses, will always survive in this game. Egg mostly does, if you count her getting subjugated to the director's fantasies lobotomized in Azure Gleam as "surviving."

"Now what that ambition is, I simply do not know, but I will boldly assume it had to do with using bibles as toilet paper."

No Lies Detected(tm)

Sothis attempts to salvage this trainwreck with a quick and miserable death, but by plot dictation, she sadly fails.

Byleth's death here is on par with Dimitri's on Verdant Wind in how unceremonious and cruel it is. Devs, are you sure you're not actually mad at how popular Byleth is? Especially the one with the 200% Bustline Modifier?

We Stan a megalomaniac /s

The Agarthans never got to the Holy Tomb or the Holy Mausoleum in this game, and here we get the idea of the kind of crap Houses!Edelgard condoned.

Really, the one thing Rhea did wrong was not using the Aurora Breath on Edelgard during her coronation.

Like

Even now, Rhea knows Agartha is the true enemy here?????? Like back in Chapter...4?????

But no, per the Edelgard/Balthus Support, Edelgard started the war anyway, she knows that she's benefitting from the same megalomaniacs that have their hands in the Empire's politics, and she had farfetched history spoon-fed to her. She doesn't care. She still wants total power.

Bruh

Monica is talking about killing Thales, btw. Peak wlw representation, everyone /s

Linhardt is abhorrent.

Shez DGAF about anything, least of all on this route. But I suppose it's fine because they're not a weird nepotism teacher, or whatever.

So here's something I've noticed: Scarlet Blaze and Golden Wildfire share several near-identical scenarios (the most obvious being the Chapter where Ordelia needs to be pacified), CGs (the still of Egg and Clyde shaking hands), and even video cutscenes (Rhea transforming into the Immaculate one; only the background is changed). GW!Claude knocks of a number of Edelgard's rhetoric and dialogue ("My hands are covered in blood and will never be clean again, feel bad for me uwu") and now we have a hollow knockoff of something poignant Claude says to Byleth on Verdant Wind.

There's also the general fact that because the Houses version of Claude ultimately became more heroic than intended, and because they had already delayed the game three times, they had Verdant Wind knock off most of Silver Snow...which is the default route for the Black Eagles.

There is a quasi-tumbleweedy-incestual bond between these two characters/routes. They fold into one another like brain proteins tangling on each other. This is not the case for Azure Moon (bar maps being shared, and even then the context differs drastically) and even more so for Azure Gleam.

Point is, I'm a Claude stan, but at this point, I feel like the Blue Lions route should be the canon one.

Local vampire simp and local masochistic noble boldly state their totally normal relationship with one another. I think I liked the Houses/Ending Card version more, because their bond made Edelgard jealous.

I did this strategy over the other two and it did absolutely nothing, by the way.

"ShE dOeSnT cArE aBoUt HiM" blah blah blah, we get it, you refuse to read the text and can't get over that Cyril and Claude are mostly incompatible when it comes to bonding.

I found a Khaloonie discover the flavor text for Seiros Tea (it's tea from southern Almyra and it got slapped with an in-universe localized name) and flipping out over it recently, funnily enough. Houses has been out for three years (as of this post) now, and you've only read that text recently???

"My daddy had stake over ruling the whole continent single-handedly first, you cut the line!"

Sothis please take the wheel -

Can confirm, they literally do almost nothing while Thales and Rhea tumble over that bridge. Very "Wormy Episode of Spongebob" energy right here.

"BUT SHE ENDED THE WAR FASTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" /s

Good job Shez, you broke it.

The ending animation of the Crests rotating like planets changes depending on which route you picked, as that land's "native" Crests are what's displayed. Since the Empire's "native" Crests are that of the Four Saints (plus the Apostles Noa and Timotheos if you want to get technical), you get to bask in a kiddie pool of irony.

In the end, the standom's support of the Empire is akin to how many fans, from its inception in 1979, support the Empire of Zeon and factions similar to it across the Gundam franchise, I feel. Shame that Adrestia isn't as well-crafted as Zeon.

Speaking of worldbuilding, I suspect that there's a weird sort of hatred at how Faerghus is the most well-built (in a worldbuilding sense) of the three lands. This is pretty much proven by its first four chapters alone (having played the demo), and I can already tell I'm gonna be in for at least a decent time once I get to Gleam.

To cap off this shit-cake, here's what I find to be a pretty apt representation of how Edelgard is viewed/turned into during Azure Gleam's ending:

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 10

I don't remember if there's 13, 14, or 15 chapters per route in this game, but here we go with SB Ch 10.

STORY

I keep remembering Ingrid is dead 😭 And we forced Shamir to join us by threatening Catherine 😭

Oh, boy, Claude just became Edelgard's bitch boy. Can't say I didn't suspect this.

Why, though? Edelgard just said in her support with Balthus she intends to conquer all of Fodlan. Does she see Claude as the least threatening? I'd like to know why Claude thinks it's a good idea too.

So I take it this time Claude is getting shoe-horned into Edelgard's story rather than Byleth's? I wonder if we'll see this in AG and GW too. Or if it'll be a bit different.

I'm having Shez be such an ass. He turned down sparing with Holst and made things awkward.

Is Claude still king in this route?

"We'll be invading Fraldarius" no 😭😭.

Edelgard just called it an "invasion" too. So at least she's honest.

I love how Hubert is spinning Dimitri wiping out the Western lords as some evil thing. But, like, those people organized a genocide.

DOROTHEA, my beloved!!! THANK GOD.

Claude, Edelgard, Linhardt and just about everyone else is bemoaning all the people who are going to die in the war. for daring to . . . defend their lives But my girl Dorothea is the only one who seems to realize that her side is the cause of the bloodshed. Not the people who would never have to fight if Edelgard didn't force them too.

"Whatever our intent, we're the instigators here. We can't expect the enemy to do anything less than defend their land with tooth and claw." Dorothea is queen. A hypocrite, but at least the game realizes who's really at fault.

"When people think someone is after what the possess, they respond with fear - even if the thought is all in their head." - Ferdinand. Except, it's not?

Edelgard openly wants to rule their lands with absolute authority. She's already stolen everything from one of her enemies, why should the Kingdom believe they wouldn't get the same treatment Rhea did? I wish the game would make it clear what Edelgard would do to Dimitri and co if they did surrender. Because, like, does anyone really think Hubert would leave them alive? Or Edelgard for that matter? If she wants to rule the Kingdom, Dimitri and most of the Blue Lions would HAVE to die. Wouldn't she throw Dimitri and his supporters out of their homes and replace them with Empire nobility at best? It's not in their heads.

Hey, at least this is the first interesting thing that's happened in SB since the prologue lamo. I hope it's not just back to CF now except Claude is now Edelgard's toady.

CASPAR & FERDINAND A SUPPORT

Ok guys, for anyone who's curious, this is where I picked up after finishing FE Engage. Feels a lot less daunting knowing I'm already a good numbers of ch into every route.

Weird support. Ferdinand is getting respected and admired by a Black Eagle instead of being the butt monkey. Caspar is thinking and questioning having something in his life other than furthering his reputation via killing people. I like it.

Ferdie called himself a master of none and admired Caspar back.

LINHARDT & DOROTHEA A SUPPORT

Wasn't this B support the one where we learned Edelgard had a single sole supply line? Lamo.

Dorothea's not going to keep taking notes for Linhardt lol.

She got hurt, so Linhardt took notes for her. She's surprised, but pleased.

She told him he had his own charm, and he's like "please, no." I love him.

I don't think this support really showed a new side to the characters, though. It felt like an emptier version of their OG one.

SHEZ & EDELGARD B SUPPORT

Shez wants her to trust him. She says she does now.

He feels purposeless and wants to be her bodyguard.

Lamo, one of Shez's response options is "stand there slack-jawed." I forgot how much I liked Shez.

He wants to defend Edelgard because her promoting him changed his life.

HUBERT & HAPI A SUPPORT

Hapi is trying to make nice with Hubert.

They're bonding over coffee.

Now they're having coffee and talking about it. I'm more of a tea person, tbh.

Sorry, but this was boring af. Never thought I'd say that about a Hubert support.

CAMP + SIDE BATTLES

Dimitri took Cornelia down in this route too. Badass.

Ashe is so miserable, poor dude. Mercie isn't happy either.

I honestly really don't like CF!Caspar, but SB!Caspar seems even worse, like he's just his dad's little killing-happy puppet.

Randolph is still a little shit. He WANTS to invade the Alliance. IDK, I just cannot fathom wanting something like that of any country let alone an ally.

Lamo, Edelgard literally just said might makes right.

Shit, I just remembered that Ingrid's dead in this timeline.

Hilda legit just asked Claude why he's made a strategy that limits casualties. Are people from Faerghus the only ones who don't love killing people? She is doubting the Empire at least. She really doesn't like Edelgard, lol.

Not seeing Ingrid with the others hurts. They're really out here just trying to stop everyone else from trying to murder them.

See this is why Dimitri's the best one - "The old ways must die - with that I agree. But shove that down the people's throats, and you risk breaking the very land you're trying to rule." If Edelgard had her way, there'd be nothing left to rule except the Empire.

Yeah, the reason you can't work with the Empire, Dimitri, is that Edelgard wants to rule all of Fodlan. Her alliance with Claude has made it really clear that the Empire still intends a hostile take over of even their own allies. Which, honestly, I do appreciate SB for being a bit more honest than CF.

I really don't want to fight Rodrigue. I do think it's funny that your enemy always hires Jeralt though.

I'm guessing Jeralt gives Byleth his sword in every route.

SHEZ & BERNADETTA B SUPPORT

Starts with her screaming and shrieking about something.

Anna showed up! She's selling something to Bernadetta that will help her with her shyness. Also sells her something shifty. Or tries. Because Bernadetta assumes Anna's up to no good (probably true) and buys nothing.

Shez calls her judgmental lol. He's not wrong.

BERNADETTA & FERDINAND C SUPPORT

This is their only support. Kinda weird given their past history.

She's eating plants. Ferdinand is concerned she's eating bad stuff. Ferdinand wants to have a competition over who collects the most edible plants.

Poor Bernie. His "competition" really reminded me of those guys who are like "oh, prove it, name xxx!" when I say I like this sport or that fandom because I must be lying to impress them or some shit. (except I don't think Ferdie is being sexist here, just annoying af).

Bernie gets hurt and one of Ferdie's plants can help fix it.

Also, he lost.

EDELGARD & MONICA B SUPPORT

I can't imagine this is going to be anything but nauseating.

Haha, Edelgard just said in another world they may have lost Monica forever (to TWSITD).

Edelgard says she only saved Monica because it was the best move lol. And like, we know this is actually true because, well . . .

Ohhh, wow, they really went there. Edelgard tells Monica to her face that she only rescued Monica because it suited her, didn't plan on it, and would let Monica die if it helped her goals.

I know a lot of times people play off Edelgard's harshness as "oh, she's just insecure and saying that!" But here you can't really make that argument because it happens in Houses lamo.

She literally didn't rescue Monica because she needed TWSITD soldiers.

Learning this changes exactly nothing about Monica.

It added some stuff to Edelgard, but Monica is still horribly one-note.

FERDINAND & DOROTHEA B SUPPORT

I know a lot of people like their Houses support chain, but I kinda don't? It's drama over something really silly.

Edelgard is here. Ugh. I want Dorothea, not her.

Oh, good grief, it's going to be about the same annoying thing. Ferdinand is remembering seeing Dorothea and being stunned by her beauty.

(like, imagine getting pissed off that someone stares at you when you're butt-ass naked in public and dripping wet)

Dorothea's a lot more reasonable this time, getting flustered hearing this.

MAIN BATTLE

Every time I log back into this, I remember that Ingrid's dead :(

Oh, God, please tell me that I'm not killing Rodrigue and Felix now.

They go from "oh, bummer, we have to kill people to! Let's go Empire!!!" Bit of a whiplash, but Dorothea's the only one who seems to realize they're killing people and not NPCs lamo.

Same conversation between Shez and Arval. Guessing I'll get it in AG when it's time for recruiting Byleth too.

Ok, like with Golden Wildfire, I'll try to unlock Byleth. But unlike with GW where I reset and tried a few times, I'm only trying once. Because I really want to finish this and get to other games. AG is the only route where I'll put in real effort to get Byleth because I care more about those characters getting a fully happy ending than the rest.

I think I failed again lol. It changed from a side goal to the main goal to fight Byleth. I didn't move around the map fast enough.

God, I love Rodrigue.

Rodrigue died. I'm guessing if I recruit Byleth, that doesn't change? How many other Blue Lions does SB force me to kill?

Cut scene time. So who dies in SB?

LAMO, it's Randolph. OFC it's Randolph. This guy is just allergic to surviving.

Is it bad I'm more upset that Rodrigue died? He's a WAYYYYY better person than Randolph.

In case you didn't read my GW reaction, I was quite pleased to see Byleth actually pissed about someone almost hurt their dad given how little they ask Edelgard about her involvement in that in CF.

I like how they expect us to care about Randolph. Like, Judith, makes sense. She's close to Claude. She's cool. Randolph is really unlikable and has no special connection to anyone except Fleche.

Does this mean Fleche will cause a level where she goes crazy against Byleth?

This conversation falls so flat compared to the GW one. Because in GW, you were talking to Claude. Here, it's . . . Fleche. In GW it was actually an emotional moment (and made me feel a bit guilty). Here, not so much.

I do feel bad for Byleth and Alois though.

Ok, the Sothis-Byleth merging happening.

I love how they go from celebrating the deaths of Faerghus to lamenting their own loses, without any acknowledgment that THEY are responsible for all of this or that the people they killed were just as "alive" as they are.

Haha, even SB lets you recognize that Randolph means very little personally to you or any of the main cast.

xxxxx