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evanox · 9 months

Note

On a scale from king/queen of the party to shy awkward wallflower, where would you personally place a good match for each of the M4 of Last Legacy when it comes to a partner? Or what kind of traits do you think, a suitable partner might need?

{HELLO sorry I never responded to your requests I kinda completely gave up on LL BUT I was trying to find something and saw this was already fully written and it was a shame to leave it rotting here}

ooo that's a fun q thank you!! I hope I understood it right!!

m.list

Felix

Felix himself has always been a wallflower at parties. Sure, as a toddler, he'd eat up the praises of nobles as his fathers showed off the gifted kid they were so proud of, but he tired out quickly so Florian would rush him to bed before little Fe got too cranky and his magic started going haywire.

He still doesn't enjoy the balls—the nobility's massive egos far too stifling, only rivaled by the clothes his father made him wear.

Even in a modern setting, he wouldn't enjoy parties that are too loud and crowded. Felix might just hide in the kitchen to read a book or find the host's cat, only emerging from the shadows when it's time for truth or dare (he always picks dare, and it's beginning to get scary for others because there's almost nothing he'd say no to).

Felix finds himself more drawn to other wallflowers; even if you don't talk, you can at least look at each other with understanding before moving on.

It's great to have a partner who understands when Felix needs out. Hell, he might actually enjoy the party better with an introverted/awkward partner—it's the perfect excuse to grill any stuck-up nobles if they so much as dare to tease you if you stumble over your words or forget the nobility's strict codes of etiquette; only Felix gets to tease you (as long as you can take it), and only because he finds you cute.

Then you can both grab a snack or a drink and quietly slip out of the crowded ballroom to tour the gardens together. If the music is loud enough that you can still hear it faintly outside, he might just ask you for a dance amongst the roses with the moon as your lone witness.

"How un-noble of you, Felix!" you would tease when Felix leads you off the paved path and towards the arching willow where you'll be perfectly hidden from any other stragglers, then Felix would laugh softly before he presses you against the tree and kisses you until you're ready to be portalled into bed (for sleep or for other purposes, none of my business).

However, I wouldn't say Felix can't appreciate a life-of-the-party partner! After all, it is only a matter of time before an extrovert comes to claim their introvert, thus maintaining balance in this world.

Your joy might even become so contagious that Felix can't help but join, especially if it's too unorthodox for the nobility, leaving a string of offended gasps and/or disapproving scowls behind you—it's all the more reason to love you. You can swing and sway all over the ballroom and cause all sorts of mischief and pranks together, as long as you can respect when he needs to just go home.

Anisa

Attending balls is a minor part of her job, whether she's escorting a VIP or standing guard. From a work perspective, a more extroverted partner might be more convenient for making connections and entertaining guests. Anisa, however, doesn't really have a preference.

An extroverted partner is fun in the way that, when Anisa is standing stiffly in the ballroom by the buffet or the grand staircase, trying to keep up appearances (or even in a modern setting, fussing after everyone in the party), you can help her slowly but surely relax and break out of her shell.

Once Anisa picks up the vibe, she does a 180 and lets out the party animal (though this one's nowhere near as wild as Sage); you can see it in the way her movements are much more relaxed, how she throws her head back and laughs so loudly at the dumbest of jokes, and how she spares a dance for whoever asks—that is until she finds you amongst the crowds and pulls you in to dance the rest of the night away.

Just promise you won't let her overindulge in the wine or the punch (that Sage might've dabbled in) lest she starts acting too inappropriately on the job. You know she can't part too long from the buffet.

An introverted partner is great, too! Anisa won't force you into attending parties with her because it's work after all, but if you still want to come along, she'll take care of you throughout the event, continuously checking over you.

Oh, to have Anisa hold your hand and press a tender kiss to your knuckles as she softly asks, "Are you okay, love?"

I guess you would activate that loophole where it's like, she might not usually go out of her way to have fun at events, but seeing you wilting by the corner will push Anisa to encourage you to have some fun with her, as long as you're up for it; she'd love to pull you in for a dance, your hand held high in hers, and proudly show you off as her lover to everyone.

And if you don't want to dance, well, there's always the buffet! There are so many foods you can try, and Anisa can't wait to hand/spoonfeed them to you.

Sage

He's drawn to the life of the party like a moth to a flame. Sage might be quite the tease, but he still loves being kept on his toes; having someone who can match his pace might even help him burn out all that extra energy.

The loud, crammed taverns are where he thrives, and a partner who enjoys them too adds to the fun. He'll pull you for a dance once the bard picks up a jolly tune, sweeping you off your feet and hopping from table to table as people watch in awe how he swings you with such ease.

Hell, you could sweep him off his feet; he definitely won't complain.

That is not to say Sage would push away the wallflower! He'd try to pull you from where you cling to the wall—wouldn't you rather have fun than look so awfully glum?

Once you explain that you're not necessarily miserable, but the chaos of the dance floor just isn't your scene, he nods in understanding. With a wink and a swish of his tail, he asks you to keep your eyes on him as he blends in with the dancing crowds. You can join in whenever you wish, but until then, you're more than welcome to enjoy the view.

Your discomfort immediately triggers his protective streak, and he'll keep an arm up so people won't keep bumping into you as he escorts you out of the crowded tavern once you call it a night.

If you're attending a party at Fathom or whatever fancy palace for whatever fancy reason, Sage would gladly pull you away from the crowds and the noise to explore all the secret passages and chambers. Hey, you could even find an empty room or a closet for seven minutes of heaven ;)

Rime

Like Anisa, I don't think Rime has a preference. I'd say he might have been partial to a life-of-the-party sort of character—repressed choir boy craving an outlet that he is—but Rime did date Felix, who isn't particularly social. That is not to say that Felix and Rime didn't know how to have fun! I just think Felix's way of 'letting go' is more so through mischief and less through partying or socializing.

So in conclusion, Rime doesn't care how extroverted or introverted you are as long as you know how to have a good time.

If you'd known Rime before as the Starsworn Captain, you might've taken him for a reserved prude, but unlike Anisa, he doesn't really need you coaxing him into being more 'out-there'; he'll compete with you over it. Want to ask him for a dance? He's already eyeing you up and down, looking like he could almost eat you up.

Even on the dancefloor, he'd be looking for ways to fluster you.

Recall how if you choose to remain silent during the first confrontation in the Felix route, Rime would wonder why Felix would choose someone so boring over him? I think, if you're more of a wallflower, Rime might tease you a bit especially if he's interested in you but doesn't know you all that well—not to tear you down but it's his... unconventional way of trying to coax you into coming out of your shell.

#rime solano varela #felix iskandar escellun #sage lesath #anisa anka #last legacy #fictif #fictif last legacy #felix escellun #last legacy sage #last legacy rime #last legacy felix #last legacy anisa #sage lesath x mc #sage lesath x reader #anisa x mc #felix escellun x reader #rime x reader #rime x mc #last legacy headcanons

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meowyn · 15 days

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Linger

gender neutral reader, just some comfort set directly after chapter 11.

a/n - started to write this at 5am and it's now 7:30, god help me. this might be ooc & really short i'm sorry i've not actually posted something recent in years lololol but i love last legacy & felix sm so!!

felix didn't miss the way you clung to his side after his (and your) return from the hells, the two of you finally settling down for the night. he was perched on the edge of his side of the bed, meanwhile you lingered behind him, casting worried glances his way whenever you decided to look at him directly. though, he noticed you hadn't looked at his face once, which made his heart ache terribly for you.

whilst he was in the midst of figuring out what to say, how best to soothe your anxiety, he felt your head bump lightly onto his back while your arms slowly circled around his waist. he waited silently as he heard you inhale deeply, shakily breathing him in as you often did, and for once as you exhaled the tension didn't leave your body at all.

a worried frown tugged at his lips before he spoke, quiet and (he hoped) comforting, "what's the matter, love?"

of course, he knew what was wrong. he had just died, after all, and he'd be an absolute fool to miss the sheer terror in your eyes at that fact. he just wanted to give you a chance to let it all out yourself, to please just trouble him with this, at least.

as if you could read his mind, a muffled sob escaped you and you squeezed him tighter, and he didn't know wether he what he felt was relief of devastation.

"i'm sorry.." you murmured, sniffling in a futile attempt to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears, "you.. died today, and here i am, crying like some sort of idiot."

he sighed at that, gently untangling your fingers from his shirt before twisting around to face you.

"oh, my sweet.." he cooed, cupping your face in his hands as he wiped away your tears, kissing at your nose for good measure, "as i told you, i have died many times so-"

"that doesn't matter!" you surprise both of you by blurting out, holding onto his wrists tightly and looking at him so desperately he feels his heart nearly tumble out of his throat.

"it's just.." you mutter, pushing past your initial statement in hopes you could get your point across to him, unaware that he already understood perfectly, "i was so worried, you were so cold.. and your eyes were so hollow that even now i'm afraid to look."

he nodded empathetically, about to respond until he saw your expression change to a deep frown as you suddenly glared at him, rendering him speechless.

"god, for someone so smart you can be such an idiot. why would you jump in front of me like that? who do you think you are? batman?" frustration laced your tone as you spoke, sniffling once more as you were about to continue ranting. until you glanced at his face, that silly, boyish grin adorning his features making any negative feelings you had dissipate, in turn making him laugh fondly as a blush crept it's way up your cheeks.

"batman? who is that?" he asked, still smiling even as you shot him another glare for his teasing tone, "forgive me, but i cannot quite feel the full force of your anger when you're pouting like that."

felix chuckled again as you sighed in defeat, leaning forward until you were wrapped up fully in his embrace, he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"i'm not angry at you," you murmured into his chest, head tucked where his shirt was left unbuttoned so you could feel his heartbeat against your ear, "though i will be if you frighten me like that again."

"i understand, however," with his fingers under your chin, he urged your head up to look at him, "whenever i have an opportunity to keep you safe, i'm going to take it. you don't understand how precious you are, do you?"

you're unable to argue with that, especially as you feel the days exhaustion set in and felix's hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

"you're precious to me too, so please, no dying if you can help it." as you utter the words, you already know what he's thinking, and when you share a look you think back on his earlier words to you.

'but death would never keep me from you. not for long.'

then, when he holds your face in his hands once more, you're both smiling as he kisses away every remnant of your upset with every bit of devotion a votary saves for their diety. he loves you, you think, and you know you love him.

#felix escellun x reader #last legacy #last legacy felix #last legacy felix x reader #thisisterribleimsosorry

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lastleggysee · 10 months

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Lying in bed with Felix late one night, curled around each other and taking turns listening while the other groggily explains their interests until you both fall asleep. Just spending hours in each others' presence and enjoying the warmth and company of each other. Kisses and soft touches punctuating every other sentence as both of you hear more about stories and topics you've heard a million times before (but it still feels like the first time, the way the other's face lights up) >>>>>>

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #felix Escellun #felix escellun x reader

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poisonouswritings · 1 year

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Last legacy where everything is the same but mc has a gun

I know that the intro mentions Ayanna having a gun in the original game but no one in the story ever has one or mentions one so we're just gonna pretend no one in Astraea knows what they are

GN!Reader, guns and stuff that goes with it we're just gonna say you can summon the Astrolabe at any time but you have trouble actually using the magic aspect of it, Color Rule (Felix, Anisa, Sage), always follow proper gun safety!!

We'll assume you already have experience with a gun. Maybe you own one, or you grew up with parents or family that did and you grew up learning about them. You obviously didn't bring a gun with you to the convention, though.

So you're looking at the poster and you hear a clatter and you look over and see this ornate, golden pump-action shotgun. You can tell from a glance that it's a prop (although it doesn't have the 'fake weapon' tag that all prop weapons get when you check into the con, so that's a little weird...) but you make sure to stay away from the muzzle anyways when you walk over to pick it up, going to check the safety.

And then you get transported. Thanks, Felix.

When you tumble into Astraea, your immediately priority is to keep your finger far away from the trigger and check the safety. You just barely manage to find it (it's already in the ON position, thank fuck) when you get grabbed by the distraught wizard that just teleported you here.

Once Felix does calm down and realize you aren't Rime, he turns his attention to the As- what in seven Hells did you do to it?? He's never seen it take a form like this. What the hell even is it? Luckily you seem to know how to handle it. He ends up poking around it a bit. It's sort of,, like,,, a super big-ass wand? What's a trigger? What's a safety? Those are magical terms of sequential orders, not physical things!!

He'll have to look at it more another time, because the guards are pounding on the door. You sling the rifle over your shoulder with the handy strap and hop on through.

Then you're in Anisa's office and she's pointing a sword at your chest. Since the drop through the portal was a little rougher than you expected, you reflexively reach back to secure the rifle on your back. There's a soft glow and it transforms into a double-action revolver. Which uh. Does not go over well with Anisa because Now You Have A Handheld Magic Weapon!! She starts to grab it from you but pauses because What The Hells Even Is It??

On one hand, she's significantly more convinced you're an assassin. On the other hand, when you explain you're from Earth, she's quicker to believe you.

She! Has!! So!!! Many!!!! Questions!!!!! About Earth weapons. You give her a very basic safety lesson (don't point it at anything you don't plan to shoot, never have your finger on the trigger unless you're going to shoot, make sure the safety is on every time you pick it up, even if you 'swear' you had it on before, always handle it like it's loaded and live just to be sure, etc). The gun is so light you assume it's unloaded but you double-check anyways. And. Huh. There are these pellet-sized little balls of light magic in place of bullets. That's... Weird. You triple-check the safety and decide to investigate more later. Like, maybe when you're not in a closed room with a curious half-cat girl who's never seen a gun before?

Anyways Felix gets brought in before Anisa has a chance to ask more questions, though you promise you'll tell her more some other time.

Now it's off to the Saucy Gull to try and track down the mysterious Sage Lesath!

Anisa and Felix both suggest having your weapon on hand because the tavern you're going to is pretty well known for constant brawls. You're a bit wary about using it just yet - these clearly aren't normal bullets and you don't want to risk doing serious damage. You turn your prop sword/staff holster into a makeshift gun holster, secure it to your side under your cloak, and press on.

Then Anisa manages to start a fight in about a minute by pointing out the illegal rat racing going on in the back over there. It's way too crowded in here to even think about firing a shot, so you rely on dodging, ducking, and throwing random utensils - up until you get cornered against the bartop. Now you have a problem with three different choices;

Use your gun. You have one target at a point-blank range. You won't miss. But you have no idea how strong the magical bullets are so you have no idea if they'll go through the body and potentially ricochet or hit someone else. So that's out. And besides, when you're this close, your opponent can easily just knock the gun out of your hand, so it's risky to begin with.

Shout for Anisa and Felix. They're busy in their own battles, though, and there's lots of other shouting in the tavern, so there's a good chance they won't hear you.

Kick this dude in the shins as hard as you can and run the hell away. You're not sure you have enough room for a real wind-up, though.

You're spared from making a decision when your opponent gets knocked in the face from left field by a big 'ol neko. When he offers to bring you to safety, you agree, making sure your gun is still in it's holster because You Don't Actually Know Who This Large Strong Man Is and it's better to be safe than sorry. So onwards you go.

He's flirtatious. Sexy-dangerous, as he puts it. But you don't think he's a danger, so you relax a bit; up until the voices from the other end of the hallway that Sage identifies as bad news. On reflex you reach for your gun only to find it's once again morphed, this time into a semi-automatic pistol; faster and holds more rounds than the revolver, much tighter and less powerful than the shotgun. That should work if it comes down to blows.

Sage's first question is Why Were You Cowering Against The Bar If You Had A Weapon??? Second question is Can He Hold It (Not In A Kinky Way)? Obviously you're not letting him touch it because He Will Play With It Like A Toy, but you do very quickly release the cartridge to let him look at it (and to double-check the bullets - they're still those glowing magical balls). Then you slide it back into the pistol with an audible click! and Sage's tail starts wagging. And y'know? I think he's a little flustered when you have it on your hip like that because,, like,,, y'know how he totally got turned on when you had a knife to his throat? Well he imagines you pulling out the gun and cocking it and. like.

Idk. Idk. I just think Sage likes being threatened and doesn't fully understand what a gun does (at least not until he actually sees you shooting at some targets)

You ultimately decide not to escalate the situation, though, and let Sage scare the guys off.

-----

As you settle into life in Astraea, you learn about your weapon. From what Felix helps you learn, the Astrolabe changes it's shape depending on what you need it for in the moment. The ammo is magical so it's both infinite and fluid, meaning it's strength changes more or less in accordance with what you want.

You're able to get a sight on it,,, a laser, specifically. You don't get to use it very often because as soon as you turn it on, Anisa, Sage, and Stella all go into cat-mode and chase it.

You do eventually let everyone try it out, albeit after a very in-depth safety lesson (or multiple, if we're being honest).

Felix isn't a huge fan of it. It's kind of cool to look at but he prefers his spellcasting. He does enjoy getting to help you test the complexity of the bullets, though. Can you enchant them to do different things, like turning whatever it shoots to water or making it a flamethrower or something?? You guys don't know, but you're gonna find out!!

Anisa has mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, it's super cool! She loves learning about Earth technology and weaponry, and she appreciates the creativity involved for how humans have managed to adapt without magic. On the other hand you tell her about all the various atrocities guns have been used for and she's,, a little less enthusiastic. She likes target practice, though.

You have to knowingly keep it away from Sage because he's liable to just start messing with it. It's shiny and it makes funny sounds and sometimes there's a laser?? Instant cat toy for him. At the very least he understands religiously checking the safety and never aiming it at a living thing. He doesn't understand the concept of not touching the trigger until he nearly shoots himself in the foot. Then he gains a healthy level of respect. Now he's a little worried about you accidentally shooting yourself, though...

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #felix escellun #fictif felix #last legacy felix #anisa anka #fictif anisa #last legacy anisa #sage lesath #fictif sage #last legacy sage #felix escellun x reader #anisa anka x reader #sage lesath x reader #cw guns

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pugwitharug · 5 months

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Hello! I really want to make a last legacy request, my LL OC is chubby/fat but I'm not real good to explain how the m4 would react to MC being self conscious/uncomfortable in their body.

(ignore the fact that I've had this in my inbox since literally Christmas--)

(by god I will pull myself out of my writing burnout if it's the last thing I ever do--)

Don't you worry my sweet anon, I got you covered

Content Warning: Mentions of negative body image, no specifics on what their body actually looks like

GN Reader, oof this may be really out of character but we're gonna do it anyways, some hurt and lot of comfort, the one thing all the LIs know how to do is give you love

Felix Iskandar Escellun

Felix isn't one for vanity, but he is one for the gothic aesthetic, so you bet he has one of those huge standing mirrors with the most ornate gold-leafed steel frame next to his wardrobe

It's one of the many gorgeous things in his room (not including him heheheheheheh) and it's something you find yourself staring at a lot

You normally do your best to not look at the actual mirror part, but today, your eyes seem drawn towards your body. You're not wearing anything revealing, your fashion style is more conservative by Earth's standards, but you focus a lot on the parts of your body you hate

Your own eyes feel like claws, rending bleeding wounds through your skin. Voices crawl into the back of your head. Ugly. Disgusting. Unlovable. They're hard to block out

You wrap your arms around your stomach, tears stinging the back of your eyes, and you find yourself unable to tear away from the mirror. As gorgeous as the mirror is, in this moment, you want to smash it into pieces

It's now when Felix walks in and sees you shaking in front of the mirror, the tears now starting to roll down your cheeks. He rushes over to you and pulls his cloak off, throwing it over the mirror and pulling you out of your stupor

Once he's sure the mirror is fully covered, he hugs you tightly, rubbing small circles on your back. He whispers comforting words in your ear, refuting everything the voices in your head are saying as if he can hear them himself

It's sort of true, for him. There were times where he felt disgusted by his body, feeling like he's an imposter in a dead person's body. He knows what you're feeling, and he hates that you feel that way about yourself

If he could take all those feelings out, he would. But for now, he's here to help and tell you how much he loves you

Anisa Anka

Being with Anisa has taught you that she can be strong with her opinions about you. Specifically, all the good opinions she has about you

She knows about your self-image issues, and she doesn't blame you for having them!

.....okay, that sounds a little wrong. She doesn't think that you're being dumb or irrational for having those thoughts. Your feelings are valid, and she's here to help you with that

Case in point: the two of you are doing some shopping through the town. Anisa has a free day, and the two of you just wanted to walk around town and see if anything catches your eye

You walk past a fancy dress shop and stop at the window to gawk at the newest dress. It's a gorgeous baby blue color, with white trim and pleating. It's a dress that you would die to have

As you're imagining yourself wearing the dress, your eyes flick over to your reflection in the mirror, and your dreams slowly begin to shatter. Compared to the beauty that is Anisa and the gorgeous dress, how dare you stand next to them. How dare you think you belong in the same space as them

You look away from the window and start to walk away, heart heavy with regret. Anisa notices and gently grabs your wrist, asking what's wrong

There's nothing wrong, you say. You're just ready to move on

Of course, Anisa knows you better than that. She grabs both of your hands and squeezes them comfortingly, reassuring you that those thoughts in your head? Garbage. And you know where they belong? In the trash, out of your fantastic brain and gorgeous body

And by the gods, she's gonna see you in that dress, and she's gonna see you smile

Sage Lesath

Sage never really had body image issues, to be honest. All of the negative feelings he's had about himself are about his actual self, not about his physical body. That being said, he absolutely understand having those negative thoughts about yourself

One of the main ways those negative thoughts materialize in real life is that you always wear pajamas to go to sleep. Full pants and mostly long-sleeve shirts, only wearing short-sleeves if it's really hot. It's in large contrast to Sage's underwear-only sleep style

He's asked a couple times if you ever wanted to try something like a nightgown or wearing shorts, but you've always turned them down. Since it was clear you weren't comfortable with those ideas, he's left you and your sleepwear choices be

One night, you're both getting ready to sleep. He's taking off his clothes, you're putting yours on--or, at least, you're trying to. For some reason, you can't find your last clean pair of pajamas

Did you accidentally put it in the dirty laundry? You rifle through the dirty clothes, scrunching up your nose a little, but you can't find them

Were they shoved into the back of the closet? You get on your tiptoes and feel all against the wooden back, but you can't feel them

At this point, you start to get a little frantic. You need those pajamas. You can't just sleep without them. If you don't, you'll feel your body, Sage will feel your body. Your actual body, your actual skin. Oh, how disgusted he will be

Sage asks you what's wrong, and you try to collect yourself and explain that you can't find your pajamas, but you can't stop the tears from coming and your voice from breaking. Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself, trying to hide from his worried view

He reaches out and pulls you up against him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His soft hair tickles your nose as he whispers reassurances in your ear

He doesn't entirely understand how you can hate such a gorgeous and divine body like yours, but he's here for you nonetheless. Whatever you want him to do to make you comfortable, he will do it, and he will show you his love in his own way

Mainly through worship. He's a worshipper. We all know this

Rime Solano Varela

I'm gonna be honest, I don't think he really cares about your body like that. He cares about you, of course, but he doesn't give that much thought into what you look like. He's more interested in who you are as a person

Even so, he does understand wanting to feel comfortable in your own skin. He wears what he does because it gives the small sensation of being comfortable, and so he wants that for you too

One day, you're doing some spring cleaning around the house and are clearing out your shared closet. You're pulling out your clothes that you don't wear anymore to put in a donate pile to give it to people less fortunate than you

You're separating your Astraea-bought clothes from your Earth-bought clothes, not entirely sure if you can give away your Earth clothes, when your eyes catch one of the tags on your shirt. There's at least three letters on there, and most of them are X's

You look at all of your Earth shirts. All of them say the same thing. All of them have those damn X's and L's. No M's or S's in sight

Compared to Rime's clothes, which better fit his smaller body, yours look...grotesque. They clearly don't belong here. You clearly don't belong here

You grab all your clothes and throw them as far as you can in a fit of rage that fizzles out into sadness. You stand there, shaking, eyes welling up with tears, stuck where you are with the voices in the back of your head

Hearing the commotion, Rime comes in to check on you. Seeing the clothes strewn about, you standing still in the middle of the room, and knowing your struggles with your body image, it isn't hard for him to piece together what happened

He says your name as he walks over to you, and you don't even get to look over at him before he claps both his hands on your cheeks. As you're trying to recover from the shock, he starts talking

He really doesn't give a shit about what you look like, or what clothes you wear. They're insignificant. Literally just pieces of fabric. The only thing he cares about is you, and you need to start doing that too

His normally icy expression softens as he takes a deep breath, trying to switch gears a little. He just wants you to be comfortable in your own body, and he knows it's easier said than done, but he wants to help you

So let's not focus on what you have and go get something you like, okay? He doesn't know how much longer he can stand seeing you look at yourself like that

#last legacy #fictif #puggo answers #anon asks #thank you for requesting!!!#my writing #felix iskandar escellun #felix escellun x reader #anisa anka #anisa anka x reader #sage lesath #sage lesath x reader #rime solano varela #rime solano varela x reader

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snowinthe-south · 2 years

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This is only my second attempt at writing an imagine/headcanons.

Also, I can concur with what I see a lot of people complaining about: writing on mobile, sucks.

***Spoilers mainly for Felix's route, just for Rime's part of the post. Small spoilers though, nothing crazy.

Life is great. The LoS has been defeated and Astraea is safe. MC has decided to stay in Astraea to be with their LI of choice and not return to earth. They've officially been in Astraea for over a year. Life is good.

Until MC gets amnesia. Either from an accidental spell or a blow to the head. They've lost all of their memories of Astraea, their adventures, and their loved ones. The last thing they remember is the convention before they were ripped from away from earth, and even then the details are foggy.

Felix is a total wreck. He and MC were practically inseparable. If you saw Felix somewhere, MC was probably just a few feet away, and vice versa. They were never apart, and they liked it that way. So for Felix, to go from always having MC at his side to them being strangers... it was very hard for him.

It was almost like the whole Rime situation again, just in a different manner. It takes a toll on his mental health.

Felix works nonstop, searching for a spell to recover MC's memories, and even begs his father for help. But to no avail, MC's memories are gone. They don't even remember their first time meeting Felix.

Felix soon accepts that his only option is to take care of MC and let their relationship come again naturally. They were rather close, after all. It will happen... it has to.

But Felix cannot silence the nagging thought in the back of his head, his insecurities telling him "it was a miracle that they fell for you the first time..."

Felix doesn't try to force the memories, nor does he let them affect the current dynamic between him and MC. But one day they were in the study, reading together on the couch, and MC drifted off to sleep on Felix's shoulder. It took everything in him not cry, because they used to do that all the time. The faint familiarity of it hurt Felix, because it only reminded him of the memories lost.

Despite the trauma and turmoil Felix had to face regarding MC's amnesiac state, he never gave up on them. Not once. And every tear, every sleepless night, every struggle was worth it when MC shyly took hold of Felix's hand during a walk. In that moment, he knew everything was going to be okay.

Anisa tries to put on a brave face. Of course on the inside she feels like her heart has been torn out. She and MC were about as a close as two people can get, they were friends, and then partners. Now they're strangers- at least, they are to MC.

After being advised to not try and force memories back, Anisa does her best to keep things as casual as possible. But it's so hard for her to not take MC's hand when they're walking through the town. And she catches herself staring off at MC with a lovesick expression more often than she'd care to admit.

Despite the internal struggles, Anisa is probably the one who would handle the situation the best. Don't get me wrong, she struggles immensely, and there are definitely tears. But she keeps a positive attitude, knowing that MC is still the same person that fell in love with her, and she still loves them immensely.

Her mother does her best to help. And by that, I mean she subtly tries to play matchmaker in an attempt to set MC and Anisa up (again). It's quite comedic, MC walking into a definitely not romantic dinner with candles and a violinist and flowers and Anisa standing there like "I didn't do this I swear."

It was hard for Anisa to open up to MC the first time, she's got demons she feels like she needs to hide. But she feels relief when she remembers that MC never judged her before, so they wouldn't judge her now.

It takes time, but they grow to be quite close again. Anisa's patience pays off the day MC turns to her and says, "I think I'm in love with you."

Sage takes it the the worst, no doubt there. He stayed closed off for years, fighting to keep every little skeleton in his closet hidden. Never opening up, never revealing his secrets or speaking of his past. MC fought so hard to gain Sage's trust, to get him to let them in. And all for nothing... they're gone now.

Sage is fully aware it's still the MC he fell for. It's them... but it's also not.

He will never forget the pain he felt when he went to embrace MC that horrid day and they looked at him with a confused expression before asking who he was.

He spent the next few days under the impression this was just a cruel, cruel joke being played on him. After he realized it wasn't a joke, he convinced himself it was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare.

He avoids MC. It hurts far too much. Sage makes an excuse to leave the room every time they come in, and he stays out on missions for longer periods of time.

Tulsa, Anisa, Felix, even Rime all have to keep Sage from drinking himself to death.

Sage comes to his senses one day when MC grabs his wrist to stop him from leaving the room, asking "why do you hate me so much?"

After that, Sage sticks around and basically becomes MC's bodyguard. He doesn't leave their side and becomes very protective over them. He doesn't try and force memories back, but unlike Anisa and Felix he does spend a lot of time telling MC about the time they spent together with him- just leaving out any romantic aspects (and also overhyping himself in the stories).

He finally works up the courage to ask MC out one night. "Like on an actual date?... you, Sage, wanna go out with me???"

The date went very well, and Sage felt from that point that things for him and MC were going to be okay.

Rime is of course, very worried and somewhat distraught. Just last week, MC had told Rime that they loved him, and now they look at him like a stranger. He doesn't know what to do.

However, if there's one thing Rime knows how to do, it's to do what he can with the situation he's faced with. And so, he takes this as an opportunity for a new start with MC. They don't remember his attempts to kill them, so that's a good thing, right?

He's surprisingly soft with MC. Not that he didn't have his moments before, but now more than ever he's just super gentle and sweet.

Trust me, he still teases the hell out of them and bullies them (lovingly). But it kind of gives the others whiplash, because they're used to Rime being all, you know, stabby. And now he's over here patting MC's head... what the hell?

Rime does his best to make sure MC doesn't find out about their past encounters, and begs Felix, Anisa and and Sage to keep quiet about it. And they do, deciding that if Rime wants to tell MC later on, he will.

From the moment they wake up without their memories, Rime is by their side. He spends every waking moment with them and they're hardly apart. MC doesn't mind, because Rime has been so helpful and kind since they woke up in the strange new world. Rime isn't possessive by any means, nor does he keep MC under lock and key. He's just very protective. "They could hardly defend themselves before... what do you think is going to happen if they are faced with danger now?"

He takes his time teaching MC magic and how to use the Astrolab (because Felix never did) and he's a surprisingly patient teacher. Very encouraging, corrects any mistakes but isn't an ass about it. However, does tease MC whenever the opportunity arises. "If you hadn't been so busy staring at me, dear, then you may have heard what I just told you to do."

MC's feelings return gradually, even if their original memories don't. Nothing needs to be spoken between MC and Rime though... they both know. And that's all they need.

#felix escellun x reader #fictif last legacy #last legacy felix #anisa anka #Anisa Anka x reader #sage lesath #sage lesath x reader #last legacy sage #last legacy anisa #rime solano varela #last legacy rime #rime varela #Rime Solano x reader #last legacy imagine #last legacy fictif #last legacy

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anonymousbeefriendfanfics · 6 days

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Felix x Rime x MC Polycule Domestic Headcannons

Fandom: Last Legacy (Fictif/Nix Hydra/Dorian) Characters: Felix, Rime, Gender neutral MC Prompt: hcs ab how would domestic life be for Felix and Rime and MC polycule Requested by: @mossmosis Warnings: Brief stabbing mention (Rime is in this, so-)

Last Legacy content, in this day and age?! It's more likely than you think! I've gotten a bit distracted with other fandoms, but I've been meaning to return to my beloved Fictif fandoms. I suppose now's the time!

Also, thank the dice gods for bringing you this particular treat! I had motivation to write, but no idea what to do, so I rolled some dice and this was the result!

Requests are open, as always, so if you'd like to see more, send me an ask!

For starters, there is no shortage of sarcasm and snarky commentary in this relationship. It's practically one of your love languages at this point! Rime and Felix are both prone to making smart remarks, and when they're both in the mood for banter, things can get mildly out of hand... you've had to calm Anisa down after she witnessed one such moment, assuring her that the two of them were not, in fact, in a terrible mood and taking it out on each other. You've come to enjoy their banter, regardless whether you join in or simply sit back and watch the show.

Both of them enjoy teasing you and each other, though there are some stylistic differences. Felix tends to be a little softer and kinder with his teasing - don't get me wrong, there's often a little bite behind his words, that cute little smirk and playful sparkle in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He teases you about lighter subjects, and though he often speaks without thinking, he never means any harm by it.

Rime, on the other hand, doesn't hold back in the slightest. It's not that he means to hurt your feelings, he isn't doing it out of malice - he simply doesn't know when to back off sometimes. If you call him on it, he'll scoff and roll his eyes, likely making some little comment about you not being able to take a joke - but he won't tease you about that again, and he'll do something nice for you in the near future as an unspoken apology.

Speaking of gifts, both of them will absolutely shower you and each other with small gifts for absolutely no reason. Felix is prone to bringing something home for you both anytime he visits the market - it's very rare that he forgets, though sometimes he'll return empty-handed and visibly frustrated that he couldn't find anything suitable. He sometimes gifts you and Rime jewelry, and has surprisingly impeccable taste, always giving you something you'll love. Books are another of his frequent gifts, of course - you can expect any new books to go missing shortly afterwards as he borrows them to read them himself before quietly returning them a few days later. You've also received a few trinkets that match his gothic mage aesthetic, too, because it wouldn't be Felix if he didn't share his love of vaguely creepy things with you!

Rime tends to focus less on physical gifts and more on actions. He spends time with you both, learns about your interests, stabs your enemies, and does small things to help you out. He prefers to be a little more subtle with his affections, almost pretending like he doesn't care, when in reality he cares very much. It's not that he's hiding it, he just... isn't very open with his emotions yet. When he does bring you gifts, though, it's usually something pretty simple, like some random trinket he saw and thought of one or both of you. I could also see him taking up woodcarving as a hobby to help him relax and unwind, so you'll occasionally find a new gift from him sitting on your desk, carved from wood or, sometimes, from his shed antlers. He likes bringing you food, too, and memorizes both of your tastes and favorite treats so he can choose the best treats.

Getting all three of you in bed at the same time can be difficult, but when it is achieved, you have a delightful time cuddling with each other. On the somewhat rare occasion that you all turn in together, you take turns being the one in the middle unless one of you has had a particularly bad day and needs double the snuggles. Most of the time, though, whoever goes to bed first ends up in the middle, with the other two crawling in wherever there's space when they're finally tired enough to get some sleep.

Mornings are always interesting, too. You or Rime are always up first - it's almost never Felix. Whoever is up first starts making the coffee and/or tea, and you try to take turns making breakfast. Rime might complain if you miss your turn, but you know he doesn't really mean it. He won't admit it easily, but he actually enjoys cooking, especially for his partners. Once breakfast is ready and one of you drags Felix out of bed, you all sit down for a nice meal together. Depending on how busy you three are, sometimes breakfast is the only meal you can all have together, so you make the most of it!

When you do have time off from your busy schedules, you almost always spend it together. Most of the time you're in the study/library at Fathom, doing more casual research projects together or reading books in a comfortable silence. Sometimes, though, you go out to get some fresh air and a change of scenery! Wandering around Porriman markets is often a good way to spend an afternoon, sampling various treats and buying interesting things for one another.

Something else you three often do together is stargazing. Felix obviously loves it, especially when he gets to share it with his loves, and though Rime might comment that it's boring just to be a bit of a brat, once he gets comfortable he'll become far more relaxed. Often times these nights consist of you and Rime gazing quietly at the stars, listening contentedly to Felix's soft voice as he rambles on and on about them. He'll inevitably get a bit flustered when he realizes just how long he's been talking, but it's nothing a few kisses can't fix~

Honestly this entire relationship would just be so soft and so chaotic at the same time. You all love each other so much and care deeply for one another, but there's rarely a dull moment!

#hi mossy #beefriend-writes #Felix x Rime x Reader #felix escellun #rime solano varela #felix escellun x rime valera x reader #last legacy #last legacy fictif #fictif last legacy #fictif felix #fictif rime

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thepinkhippoinhungryhungryhippos · 1 year

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summary: in which felix chases away your period cramps. warnings: blood mention, menstruation notes: this is so so so ooc but i don't even care i love him in every form every way i adore him. this is also very self indulgent oops

warmth °.•○

you woke up to your sheets stained red. you spent what little energy you have left cleaning yourself up and swallowing back your nausea and medicine. flopping back down on your sheets, you curled in on yourself. you hadn't even the energy to groan out in pain.

after what felt like hours you heard the door open with a click! your eyes cracked open, as alert as your body allowed.

whoever entered your apartment quietly closed the door and took off his shoes before melodiously calling out, "dearest, i'm back!"

a smile was apparent in his voice, and you immediately knew it was felix. you sunk deeper into the mattress as relief flooded through your body.

you couldn't muster the energy for a response, cramps still ravaging your body like a fire consuming a forest. but knowing he was home, that he was here, was enough to reassure you. all you could do was nestle farther under the blankets and await your love.

when a familiar mop of brown hair and a pair of worried gray eyes peeked in the doorway, a small, strenuous smile spread across your face. felix's hands came to hold your face once he saw you and the sorry state you were in.

"are, are you alright?" he asked, panic seeping into his voice as he pressed the back of his hand on your forehead. his eyebrows were downturned, a concerned crease forming between them.

you gave a hum of affirmation, following the touch of his hand as he pulled back.

a lopsided smile crossed his face as he indulged you, caressing your cheek.

"just cramps." you responded, instantly getting hit with a new wave of aches as to retaliate against your downplaying of the pain. your smile faltered, and his turned back to a worried frown at this.

"do you need anything, princess?" he asked, voice as soft as the blanket you were wrapped up in. his face grew pink at the name he chose, but he didn't take it back.

"just you," you whispered, placing your hand over his. if felix's face was pink before, it was as red as a candy apple now.

"and... my heating pad." you exhaled, smiling cheekily.

he pouted before shaking his head.

"no need." he responded, gently placing his hand over your stomach before taking a breath and making a pinching and spreading motion. heat washed over your aching body like a balm. with each wave you melted further and further into his touch.

you took the moment to observe felix, a smile spreading across your face as you shamelessly stared. you took note of each detail, from the way the tips of his mouth turned down ever so slightly in focus to the traces of pink over his cheeks to the little mole just above his jaw. you traced the contour of his face with your eyes, admiring every bit of beauty you saw.

his pulsing movements slowed, and he cracked open his eyes. his gaze met yours, and he crumbled under the obvious affection in your eyes.

giggles filled the room as you both broke contact. your fingers wrapped around the back of his collar, pulling him down in an attempt to kiss him. tingles spread across your lips as you pressed them to his before both breaking into smiles and giggles again.

felix was now bent over you, elbow resting beside your pillow, heart in your hands and forehead against yours. he kissed your nose before standing up straight again.

"let me change into my pajamas, i'll be right back." he smiled. it never failed to make you smile in return.

you spent the rest of your cramps wrapped not only in your blankets, but in felix.

#felix escellun #felix iskandar escellun #last legacy x reader #last legacy #last legacy fictif #felix last legacy #felix iskandar escellun x reader #felix x reader #my writing #i love this man

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 1 year

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"You are so Beautiful"

A rendition of how I would see ch. 14 turning out to be if we ever got one. Evil Felix. Corruption and all. A short one because my brain cells can't stay focused or phrase paragraphs or sentences right. Just tried my best to interpret the song "You are so beautiful," by Tommee Profitt (ft. Brooke) [Dark Version].

Flashes of bright light burst from my chest to leave me bewildered, to guide me to focus immensely on the giddy feeling. With a shocking revelation once I open my curious eyes I am within a room. Not just any room.

A golden ballroom filled to the brim with ebony music sung by an orchestra wearing tear stained white and gold masks. White and red petals fall from the ceiling all around me in a flourish like the applause from the crowd circling me.

I realize the citizens of Porrima human and illephta surround me lying within a casket of crystal all dressed up prim and proper.

Why?

Another thing that hits me is that the "guest" wears glorious attire and masks/veils/hats to their own fitting. Swaying on their heels to the melchanly tune. Others slumped on each other, dragging their limbs to stand up. All sharing the common blank stare with a pale face. Unnerved I try to haul myself over but to no avail until the crowd begins to part.

For someone.

My breath hitches at the person before myself.

Felix dressed in all black with gold stitching the hem of his long coat. He holds out his hand with a lovesick expression possessing him. I take it willingly to my demise. On the marbled ground I embrace him with no intention of letting go.

"You are so beautiful," caressing my tear-stained cheeks, his touch like a burning star in the midnight sky. Murmuring whispers of affection and admiration go unheard as the ballroom music sweeps through the crowd into the frigid breeze.

Hence, I acknowledge he's walked us onto a balcony studded with flourished greenery turned a white palette. Likewise, I find I do not care a smidge. Instead I nuzzle into his chilly neck grasping at any sign of hope that he will choose to stay by my side. Thereupon the balcony is two souls clinging to what's left of each other.

He lifts my chin with his precious touch, green embers roaming over my trembling features. "By the Gods, I've missed you so." Tendrils of black magic sweep the ground around us in a heap bordering us together for eternity. "Dear love, you're really here," a croaky voice spills from his bloody lips like pins and needles. With a choked laugh I peck his cheek, "Love, I promised to never leave your side. Not even when the world is war"

A wicked grin plasters his face earning me cheeky laughter to leave me stunned at his canter. "No worries my darling in your absence things have altered." Confused, I lean back to stare at him, "That's so? Felix…w-where is everyone else?" Grasping my stiff hands he gently kisses each knuckle murmuring to follow him. Warm to the bone from his affection I abide hugging his waist.

We saunter down below the palace grounds to a gate guarded heavily. A flick of his wrist maneuvers the locks to unlatch with every click echoing up and down the corridors. He tilts his head squinting his eyes at the sunstone order. Stone-faced the guards oblige to his notion for their swiftful leave. "Go on my lovely barista," short and sweet words hang in the air between us sounding carefree. His tone sounds assured. His unruly expression exhibits a different tale to be told. The last lock snaps open to reveal his grand surprise to me. My nostrils flare at the brisk essence in the chamber with no light in sight.

Rubbing my palms together I try to maneuver in the dark clamoring for felix, "W-w-What is this r-Room?!" "A project of mine, sweetheart!!" In a second flat his palm ignites embers of flames to jump onto the torched walls. Illuminating our surroundings I blink harshly with a gasp escaping my lips.

No furniture. Not a speck of dust or cobwebs to blur our vision. Nor a beast in a iron cage. "F-felix!!!," I softly whimper, tears beading my eyes as I feel my throat close up.

Crystalized shards glowed in a circle hovering above the ground before us. Although, none were empty. Florian, Scylla, Anisa, Sage, Tulsi, Ayanna, Rime, Elowen, and Escell slumber within the levitating crystals with no thread of escape for them. A chuckle comes from behind me as Felix hugs me whispering in my ear. "We've waited for you. I waited. You promised to stay. So did they. It's truly as you said before my clever MC."

He kisses a trail down my quaking neck to my shoulder. Holding me at the waistband to tighten his grip, for me to stare back at his glowing psychotic ember eyes, in nothing but terror. "....What?," his touch is bittersweet in the revelation presented to me. "Magic is just another tool to carry on our legacy." Bile is all I taste at his vile words.

A thought hits me, "What about the Lord of Shadows?" I turn away from the atrocity fighting to push Felix off me. It only sets him off. He grips my wrists tugging me toward his crinkle of a smile. In a low hiss, he announces, "The title belongs to none other than me." He leans a breath away. "Can't you see….

You're everything I hope for…..

…..You're everything I need…..

You are so beautiful."

#fictif #last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #fictif felix #felix x y/n #gender neautral reader #song fic #Lyrics not mine.#last legacy felix

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elysianbohemian · 2 years

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I just want to go into Felix's study, lay on the couch with a thousand blankets and pillows and watch him read his books (that he absolutely will not tell me what they're about) and he'll sip tea while Stella nips and tears holes into one of Felix's socks behind the couch that he'll eventually will just have to forfeit to Stella,,, the air is warm and comforting from those scented candles he bought that one time in the market in Porrima on a whim and he'll have left an extra cup of tea he's brewed just for me,,,, is this too much to ask for?? am I not deserving of such beauty or am I not worthy of having an evening like this???

#last legacy #rime solano varela #sage lesath #anisa anka #Felix iskander escellun #last legacy sage #felix last legacy #anisa last legacy #felix escellun #fictif #felix iskander escellun x reader

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evanox · 2 years

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Astraean MC Falls Face First Into a Cafe on Earth (Felix-Centric)

A continuation of this request!! Sorry @gwenene @sweet-milky-tea705 for the delay!!

m.list

"We're clooosed," Felix calls out, not bothering to look up from his book. Worst case scenario it's yet another customer stumbling their way in to make an order one minute before closing; best case scenario it's just the cafe ghost making a racket yet again. Felix swears this place is haunted but no one believes him.

She never told this to anyone, but Anisa has put so much thought into which tool in the bar is best fit to be a weapon, and now that a thief has come for her she can finally put that knowledge to use! Slowly she raises the porta-filter above her head and—oh my God, is your nose bleeding? The tool falls out of her hand and Anisa completely overlooks your fantastical get-up, far too focused on getting you an ice pack and some tissues after you've fallen face first into the floor.

You're from another realm called Astraea? Yeah sure Sage heard a few other crazy stories. This one might just take the cake since you're so committed to your bit.

Anisa is cautious but curious. Felix on the other hand is enchanted. That world you speak of sounds way too cool for him to care whether you've made it up or not. What's wrong with a writer committed to their bit if the world-building is on point?

All doubts vanish the moment you show off your magic. Only Sage remains slightly more skeptical—he's seen more impressive displays of sleight of hand; you're gonna have to do better. Freak him out by switching his ears for cat ears; now he's a believer.

Anisa has a million questions to ask and Felix brings his journal to take notes. When Anisa's done asking about the food and the knights and the royalty of Astraea, Felix starts grilling you about the magic system. How did you get your relic? How many other relic wielders are there? How do your abilities differ? What's magic school like? What are the chances he can cast magic too?

You're unsure if someone with neither relic nor magical heritage can cast magic, especially in a realm where these powers don't seem to exist. Perhaps you can get Felix started on sigils or potions until you figure out how to go back; surely, it can't be any more difficult than wielding these strange machines with which he concocted the delicious beverage he offered you.

Hell, you might not even be well-versed in magic yourself, but now you've got yourself an enthusiastic study partner—about time you opened these books your captain insisted you look into.

Anisa and Felix offer you a place to stay; Sage says he might have to check with his roommates before bringing someone in (wink wink) but otherwise you're still welcome.

Well, you've already promised Felix to teach him all about magic, so he becomes your earth tour guide until you figure out how to make your way back to Astraea.

Felix chalks it up to your fascination with a different realm more than anything, but he truly appreciates how intently you listen to his rambling about whatever. You're one of few people (if not the only one) to not react to his taxidermy hobby with repulsion or fear (you've probably seen far stranger things in Astraea).

For quite some time Felix has you up on this pedestal. You're a magical being from another realm and returning to your home is an inevitability. You, as far as Felix is concerned, are a star beyond his reach even when you're sitting in the same room together.

The longer you stay with him though, the more... normal you become. Not in a bad way of course, but you seem more human to him, therefore more approachable; perhaps he could even consider you a friend.

As soon as that mystifying veil drops, Felix feels like he's seeing you for the first time. He starts noticing the little quirks that make you you, and not just an Outlander from Another Realm: whether you're a morning bird or a night owl, how you like your breakfast, the sound of your laugh, your taste in fashion when he splurges on your new wardrobe, the little things you do when you're idle like humming to yourself or pacing around the house, etc.

He thought Anisa was a little silly for asking about knights and royalty when clearly, this mage from another realm had so much more valuable knowledge to offer! Now, however, Felix finds himself curious about the more trivial things in your world. Did you have ballrooms? Did you attend parties? Is there... any chance that you could dance with him?

It's an innocent question, really! It doesn't mean anything! But you're already pulling him up and towards you; it doesn't matter if neither of you is that good at dancing, what matters is that it's just the two of you right now, and you can dance like no one's watching because Stella has already fallen asleep on Felix's reading couch.

He's terribly stiff at first, caught off guard by your sudden proximity, but the longer you sway together the more he loosens up, throwing his head back and laughing freely when one of you stumbles over the other's feet. Then your footsteps fall into perfect tandem and you draw in closer and closer until you can feel his chest pressing against yours. There's a split second his eyes linger at your lips, which costs Felix his composure and sends him stumbling yet again.

A hopeless romantic like himself knows to find beauty both in the mundane and the strange but he truly believed that none of it was enough to impress you when your world has magic. Still, you regard all things new to you with a child-like wonder and he finds it very endearing, even if you're very subtle about it. Felix is quite the observant man when in love.

...In love? Felix's face glows a bright red the moment he realizes it. Hells, how does he always fall fast and hard?

You've even made him fall in love with making coffee, of all things. With your magic, you could easily enchant the cup and the ingredients to move of their own accord and fix your drink, yet you always choose to do it the long, boring way—something about the process, you'd always insist, and the effort that goes into it. (You just think the coffee machine is really neat, and wonder if Rivath has ever had something similar.)

Regardless of whether you feel the same way about him or not, Felix decides he wants to take you to all the wonderful places on Earth that he can afford if only to see the world through your eyes and fall in love with it all over again.

For now, though, you'll have to make do with the coffee shop and all the books there while Felix works; he feels bad about leaving you home alone without much to do. Tease him about how you don't mind spending an entire day with Stella, and there'll be just the slightest hint of jealousy to his pout.

If it's too early for anyone to have arrived, or if it's so late everyone has already gone home, Felix will show you how to operate the coffee machine since it fascinates you so much. You accidentally brush hands in the process and this man's soul ascends to heaven.

Finally, finally, he gets a potion/sigil to work and oh, the joy on his face makes all those sleepless nights so worth it. He takes you by the hand and shows off his work and you ask him to show you again, and again, and again, and he gladly obliges every time. Even Stella's interest is piqued when your excitement is so contagious it can be heard outside Felix's apartment.

The joy is short-lived though, as not too long after you announce you've finally figured out the way back to Astraea.

If you decide you want to stay longer on earth, he'll be so overcome with relief that he finds the confidence to finally confess to you. The moment you tell him you return his feelings, Felix feels like he could take on the world; he could travel abroad with you, find a new job, move to a better house, get married— Yes, yes, he wants to take it slow, but the man just can't help how his imagination runs wild when he's excited and in love.

If you're going back to Astraea, though, and you've got your portal ready, he'd feel very conflicted—he wants to tell you of his feelings so the what-ifs don't haunt him well after you leave, but at the same time, he wouldn't want to make the situation complicated or make you feel guilty for leaving.

So you'll have to take initiative this time: promise him that you'll come back to visit, and Felix will take your hands in his and promises to visit [distant place that drew your attention and you really wished you could see] together.

It occurs to him to ask whether he can follow you, but this whole time you've been teaching him to love his mundane life as it is; how could he let go so easily? Perhaps when you figure out a stable portal to go back and forth between realms, then, you can take him for a promised tour around Astraea.

Every day since your departure Felix has been tormented by his yearning. His coworkers had gotten used to the bored/sleepy expression he wore every day to work, but nowadays he looks like he's permanently lost in another world. Whenever something mildly entertaining happens, his eyes drift towards the beanbag you'd always sink into as you waited for his shift to end, and Felix wilts when he remembers you've already left.

And who would he share in his glee when he masters a new sigil?

Once in a while, when sleep won't grace his eyes, he'll play that melody to which you once danced the night away, and lets the sweet memory lull him to sleep. Sometimes he'll even pick up Stella and sway around with her, cooing at her like she's a fancy Victorian lady he's courting.

There's some solace to be found in writing letters. Felix knows he can't send them to you, but he likes to imagine how you'd react reading them, and what you might write him back. The letters are kept in a neat stack in a box he hides in his closet, and when you finally come back, he'll gift it to you so you can slowly unravel his heart and see all the ways he fell in love with you.

#felix iskandar escellun #last legacy #fictif #fictif last legacy #felix escellun #last legacy felix #fictif felix #felix escellun x reader #felix x mc #last legacy headcanons

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radicaldadood · 2 years

Text

I forgot I hv tis in my drafts ehek- Tis is old and short tho

MC: wake me up...

Sergio: before you go go!

Chava: when September ends...

Val: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

---

Nicky: listen, I can explain-

MC: You’re making $500,000 and you’re only gonna pay me $30,000?

Vito: You’re getting 30 grand? I’m getting $1,000!

Chris: You guys are getting paid?

---

Ramón: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

MC: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Miguel?

Miguel: Probably “road work ahead”.

Agent Blake: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

---

Felix, setting down a card: Ace of spades!

Anisa, pulling out an Uno card: +4!

Sage, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you!

MC, trembling: What are we playing-

---

Sergio: I actually have a black belt.

Val: in what, karate?

Sergio: no, from Gucci.

---

MC: Tonight, one of you will betray us.

Chava: Is it me, MC?

MC: No, it’s not you.

Val: Is it me, MC?

MC: It’s not you either.

Sergio: Is it me, MC?

MC:

MC, mockingly: "Is IT mE mC?"

---

Vito: Can I be frank with you guys?

MC: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Chris: Can I still be Chris?

Nicky: Shh, let Frank speak.

---

*MC, Ramón, and Miguel are sitting on a bench*

Agent Blake: Why do you guys look so sad?

MC: Sit down with us so we can tell you.

Agent Blake: *sits down*

Ramón: The bench is freshly painted.

---

MC: We need to distract these guys.

Franny: Leave it to me.

Franny: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.

Padre Joya, Rico Ferrer, and Dr. Cook: *Immediately begin arguing*

MC, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

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lastleggysee · 2 years

Text

Substitute Lovers - Sage Lesath (pt. 2)

Okay so I couldn't get Last Legacy off my mind and ended up writing more Sage/Reader (+ FWB!Felix) so here's that. It's also a slow burn now I guess.

Part 1 here!

Word count: 6,635

Warnings: Mentions of blood, slight NSFW (nothing graphic imo), minors DNI

Felix returned, black-clad and brooding, two days later than he initially stated he would.

Before this, Anisa was the only one who worried about his delay, insisting to go on a search for him by sunset on the first day. Sage offered his assistance if she was offering a bounty, mumbling something about “bringing the brat back before midnight”, but you managed to hold their reins until his arrival.

On the morning of Felix’s return, Sage found you reading on the balcony, lightly stroking Stella’s sleeping form on your lap.

“Some balls you’ve got - don’t they teach kids to stay away from monsters where you’re from?” He chuckled, sliding down the wall to sit down next to you.

“Oh Sage, it’s just a book. It’s not going to hurt you.” You don’t look up from the page you’re on. Since arriving in Astrea, your magic largely showed itself in bursts of instinct. You’d managed to familiarize yourself with small spells, party tricks and mildly-impressive-but-hardly-lethal cantrips mostly, but more complex incantations alluded you. It felt like trying to learn a new language while simultaneously running a triathlon, frustrating and exhausting, but you devoted time to bettering your skills nonetheless.

A simple truth belied your determination: You’re the weakest link of the New Starsworn. And if you knew it, the Lord of Shadows and all his creepy-crawlies knew it too.

“I don’t know, you smacked me pretty good with one the last time. What was it again - Transfiguration for Tactile Learners?”

Sage watched your brow furrow deeply. As if on cue, Stella stands up on your lap, stretching impressively, before scampering off into the castle. Your gaze follows her and lingers long after she’s gone.

Do you stare at Felix like that, when he leaves your room? After the blush has finally faded from your cheeks and you’re brushing your hair back into place; after your now-hoarse voice has bid him goodnight. How long do you spend looking at the door after he’s gone? How easily do you drift off to sleep after picturing his face in the ceiling above your bed?

But you turn to face him when he calls your name, more often than not, and Sage has never been the type of man to discount small victories.

This time, though, he does have to call your name twice before you return his attention, face only a few millimeters shy of a scowl. “Lighten up, you’ll get wrinkles if you walk around with a face like that.”

“The only thing here that’ll give me wrinkles is you,” you sigh, reluctantly closing your book.

“Only in your bedsheets, if you’re lucky,” he says. “But now that I’ve got your attention, I could use some help.”

“Oh? I’m so honored,” you roll your head from side-to-side, trying your best to coax out a stubborn crick that keeps itself hidden.

His smile could have melted you then and there, if the wall wasn’t holding you up. The tips of his fangs now exposed, in sharp white contrast to his sun-kissed skin, the way his mouth tilted towards one side as he moved his lips to form his request. You would have agreed to anything he asked, coming from a mouth like that.

“Last night, Anisa got me thinking- I really could use a little extra coin. I’m gonna bag a couple bounties, just enough to pay off my tabs and put some away. I mean, I’m glad to be here and all, but righting wrongs and delivering justice doesn’t really pay the bills.”

“Sage, what bills do-”

He cuts you off. “Tabs add up, but that’s not the point. I’m rusty, literally- I spent half the morning scraping the shit off lefty here.” He thrusts his gauntlet into your face, the image of an overexcited child delivering a handmade macaroni necklace to their teacher, before continuing. “I want to get a few rounds of training in real quick before I go. Just for the afternoon. Unless you’re busy, of course.”

A steady hand over his, and you lower his gauntlet from out of your face. How hasn't he lost an eye yet, walking around with these things all the time?

"I'm yours."

* * *

Your chest is heaving. Sage barely has to put in any effort and before you know it you're flat on your back, the air knocked from your lungs. How brutal must the gym classes in Astrea be, for this to come to him so easily?

It's easy to forget Sage was - is - (does it really matter?) a soldier. That the same hands, wide palms outstretched to you now, have taken lives before. How can he call himself rusty when any fight you're in with him is over in a matter of minutes?

He pulls you up with ease. However, your oxygen-deprived knees aren't quite prepared to resume their duties and support you just yet. You crash into the expanse of Sage's exposed chest, eye-level with a particularly angry-looking raised scar. How powerful could something have been, to have left such a mark on him? You're not sure if you want to know.

"Breathe," he reminds you, strong hands supporting you more than you'd care to admit from underneath your elbows. As if to demonstrate, he inhales deeply through his nose before puckering his lips and exaggeratedly exhaling onto your face, blowing back a few strands of your hair that weren't affixed to your sweat-soaked forehead.

Unable to retort, you follow his instruction, choosing to ignore the insult he added to your pride’s injury. You also choose to ignore his all-too-satisfied laugh as he extricates you from his arms and walks towards the edge of the pool on the outside of your improvised sparring arena. You’re even able to half-ignore the aching in your calves as they protest from overuse.

But try as you might, you’re unable to ignore the way the muscles of his back move as he crouches down to meet the pool, splashing water from his cupped hand onto his face before running that same hand over his scalp. It didn’t help that his usual braid was now perfectly askew, stray strands of pearlescent hair framing his shoulders from behind. No wonder he’s kicking your ass when he’s able to take your breath like this without even touching you. Sage’s fingers idly skim the water in front of him, creating small ripples that playfully catch the sunlight.

“Alright, playtime’s over,” he stands, wiping his hands on the front of his thighs and turning towards you once more. “Not that you haven’t been a lovely punching bag, but I’d better get going while I’ve still got a little daylight ahead of me.”

You want to say something clever, something witty or biting, something about knocking that smug grin off his face, but your words are lost somewhere between the ache in your chest and the thin trails of water running down his. Instead, you nod.

Ever-cavelier, he walks you back to your room at Fathom. His praises of your improved technique (“Who’re you stabbing down when I’m not around?”) are as earnest as his gesture of holding open the door of your room for you when you arrive. He stands in your doorway, perked-up ears grazing the doorframe, and for the first time in your rather long trek back to your chambers, Sage is silent.

He should thank you, he thinks. Should offer to help you stretch, offer to buy you a meal upon his return. Should stop staring at you. Should definitely ignore the gentle working of your fingers through your hair, tying it out of your face. Sage wagers with himself that if he were a smart man, he’d turn around right now and leave - but his eyes remain transfixed on the stubborn tresses of hair clinging to the back of your neck and the ghosting of skin peeking out from the collar of your shirt.

“What’s the holdup? Scared or something?” you hum, kicking your shoes off and into a corner.

His heartbeat quickens. Scared? Absolutely. He didn’t used to think about these things. He’s lived the past five years as an enigma, a shadow, a blood-stained mask held up to the world without anyone to question what was underneath. And you read him so easily.

“No,” of course I am. “Do I look like the type of man that scares easy?” He leans against your doorframe for emphasis. And he’s mostly telling the truth. Sage has never scared easily - about anything in the world outside of this godsdamned room at least.

“Be careful, Sage.” you remind him. He didn’t notice you getting closer until your hand was on the doorknob, form half-hidden behind the heavy door’s wooden frame.

“Oh, you know me. I always use protection.”

“You’re a dog,” you chide, closing the door softly. Sage lets out a mock howl that’s dramatic, even for him, that echoes down the stone hallway as he walks away.

Felix frowns, wondering how a dog could’ve possibly managed to find its way into Fathom, dusting himself off lightly from the portal he just stepped through.

* * *

You dine in your room that night, and the night after that. Your housemates (Castlemates? Comrades? Brothers in arms?) had once again made themselves scarce; only now conveniently showing themselves as you sat down in the kitchen while brewing yourself a cup of tea. Anisa’s visit was short-lived as she sheepishly asked for your help to tighten the straps on the back of her uniform. There must be one hell of a visitor for her to bring out the official colors of the Sunstone Order so early in the morning, but this didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you, however, was Felix’s voice from across the room asking you to make a cup for him as well soon after Anisa rushed out the door. He looks rough, even for it to be so early in the morning, and his footsteps appear heavy as he slinks towards the counter. Felix nods, not exactly at you, but in your general direction at least, as you sit the heavy-bottomed mug in front of him. You count the seconds between his sips of tea and heavy sighs like thunder following lightning. You focus on your own beverage in a tense silence, waiting for the skies to open up and Felix to reveal the details of his visit home.

“I’ll never understand how Escell managed to ascend to the rank of archmage without the slightest clue of how to brew a decent cup of tea.” His customary slouch appears exaggerated, somehow, giving him the appearance of speaking directly into his cup.

“Beats me. Even in my world, reading tea leaves is pretty common magical practice,” you mutter offhandedly, idly wiping crumbs off the counter. “Maybe he just lied on the application.”

Felix chuckles tersely at this. “Is it, now? Well, I suppose he’s got no excuse then.” He turns the bottom of his mug towards the ceiling, and looks into the cup with curiosity.

“So you’re able to divine what, exactly from the symbology?” Felix is rotating the cup slightly now, his tone pensive. Combined with the far-off look in his eyes, you’re unsure if he actually wants a response or if he’s simply processing this new bit of information out loud. You suppose you can’t blame him, he never seemed to quite grasp the concept of a barista and the duties of the job.

“The future, I think,” your nose scrunches as you dig through the recesses of your memory. “We don’t have fancy magic schools where I’m from, but I don’t know, I think it’s mostly up to interpretation. What feelings you get from what you see more than the symbols themselves.”

“It just feels empty,” Felix’s eyes seem a shade darker as one corner of his mouth raises to form a sardonic smirk. “How fitting.”

He rights his posture to an acceptable level of slouch, clears his throat, and the omen passes. You rise to pour yourself another cup and he’s asking about your studies, Stella’s antics in his absence, your thoughts on the less-than-academic romance novel he lent you a week before his departure - but his eyes linger on the cup for the majority of your conversation. His words expertly sidestep your attempts to inquire about his time away, and eventually you abandon the topic in favor of showing him your novice attempts at a portal spell you’ve been working on.

For the rest of the time you spend together that day, neither of you mention the half-moon indentations etched into his palms.

* * *

Though your drunken conversation with Sage over a week ago still smolders in your memory, you don’t manage to end things with Felix. You would be ashamed of yourself, if you weren’t already so preoccupied with your newest shame: even in a world as fantastical as Astrea, you still manage to find yourself bored more often than you’d care to admit.

You mentioned this idly to Felix one evening, following a particularly enthralling afternoon of arcane research and, lounging on one of the chairs in his study that seemed to be filled with as much dust as cushioning, if not more.

“Doesn’t your family have, I don’t know, a magical amusement park day pass or something? You ask, reluctant to follow suit as Felix flips his way through an impressively heavy tome.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you just asked me, but if amusement is involved I assure you my family has no part of it.” His chin rests heavily on the heel of his palm, giving his voice a strained tonality. “What sorts of amusements kept you occupied back in your world?”

You avoid his question, reluctant to admit that escaping to the virtual world of Astrea was one of the few pastimes you managed to engage in with any regularity. Instead, you cross the room, ruffling his hair as you pass by him on your way to the door. If he notices your gesture, he doesn’t show it, not looking up from his book even as the heavy door to his study slams shut.

In a valiant effort to fend off the growing sense of sameness (you didn’t realize how much of a difference Sage and his flavor-of-the-day moods and antics made until he’d been gone for a few days), you decided to pay Tulsi a visit.

The sidequest of your evening proved more challenging than you’d care to admit.

And so, you find yourself walking through the dimly-lit streets of Porrima, your mind wandering to a time when Astrea was just a setting in your favorite video game. What did you spend all those hours doing, when the missions were completed? The glow of the moon begins to rise over the western half of the ocean in stark contrast to clouds in the east, casting an iridescent pathway over the water so strongly you could have mistaken it for a bridge, if you didn’t know better.

Not that you knew much better concerning Porrima, all things considered. Your feet felt clumsy walking over the cobblestone streets, as though your bones themselves knew they didn’t belong; that they weren’t ever really meant to walk the paths you’re on. Thankfully, the streets were much less crowded now than they had been during your last excursion with Sage, so you could put on a well enough show of being a native to avoid suspicious eyes. The few stalls still open, manned by sleepy-eyed vendors, appeared even to have lost some of their color under the streetlamp’s lights. Damp, chilled air blowing in from the water leads the lamp’s flames in a precarious dance, casting flickering shadows this way and that. The splendor of the afternoon had been replaced by a still and alluring melancholy. You wonder not if it will rain, but when.

It was on your third wrong turn - taking you past a spectacularly vulgar establishment you approximated to a mystical dive bar before leading to a dead end- that you decided to stop for a break. You sit on the edge of a water fountain and pick at the skin of your thumbs as though the precise memory of Tulsi’s shop was buried somewhere beneath the distressed flesh. Asking for directions tied your stomach into angry knots on your best of days, and you hated to make your status of lone outsider known almost as much as you hated to return to Fathom and gather dust like all of Felix’s old books. Your stomach argues that you should stop into the bar to get a meal (or something close to it), but you know your appetite won’t allow you to put down much. Anisa always scolded you for wasting food. Maybe, if you turned back now, you could find her stash of treats before she returned from her duties.

The steady stream flowing from the fountain behind you washes over your thoughts. You’re unable to make out precise details of the statue’s face, backlit by the moon in a cool white light, but a vase of flowers sits balanced between a large, ornamental pair of horns. Was it a spell or some innate quality of the plants themselves that kept them from withering in the cool air?

The crash of a door opening, a screech of laughter trailing to the nearby alley. It sounds too bright for it to be ringing through a seedy alleyway. Almost eerie, like a bird chirping at midnight.

But you don’t turn your head at the songbird’s calls. Instead, a too-loud and too-familiar voice calls your attention. Of course, where else would fate have him be?

It’s hard for you to focus on their conversation over the pounding in your ears, but they’re making no secret of their intentions with each other. You put a hand on your chest and are almost surprised when you’re not able to feel your emotions ripping their way out from your rib cage underneath your palm. How long had he been back? Was he even planning on returning to Fathom? Had he even spared you a thought?

The alley takes on the dark and guilt-ridden quality of a confessional booth as you give into the masochistic urges to observe. Sage’s partner is nearly as tall as him. They’re shushing him with a finger pressed to his lips, their other hand clasped firmly around the belt on his chest - admiring the same jagged scar you did the last time you saw him. Sage’s eyes, never leaving their face, reflect the dim light as he takes their finger into his mouth. The songbird giggles again, pulling him by his belt in for a kiss. Sage’s hand - where’d he leave his gauntlet? - raises to envelop theirs as his knee slides in between their thighs. His boots are dirty; they’re going to leave marks on the pale fabric of his partner’s skirts.

It’s hard for you to tell whether it was the cold that caused you to lose feeling in your fingers or something else entirely. You abandon the original purpose of your trip, along with the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and spend nearly all of the change in your pocket on what bags of street cakes were left at a vendor’s booth. They’re stale, half-crumbling in your hand before you’re able to lift them to your mouth. You attempt to dodge holes in the pavement on your way back to Fathom. The moon’s attempt to illuminate your path from behind a wall of clouds is futile, and you trip over uneven stone.

* * *

You track mud into Felix’s study. He’s in essentially the same position you left him in, only with a different book and his legs criss-crossed in his chair.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to do anything,” you indiscriminately pull a book from his stack and throw yourself onto a cushion on the floor. “I’m just not about to be alone in this creepy mansion when the storm starts.”

Felix at you for a long moment before shaking his head and returning his attention to his book.

You make an earnest effort to make sense of the words in front of you, but descriptions of alchemical techniques throughout the ages begin to blur together after a while. At some point during your absence Felix had opened the heavy curtains, and although you see the sway of trees in the distance it has still yet to rain.

Why does it always seem like you’re just waiting for the bottom to drop out?

Unable to sit still, you begin to straighten up around the room. Papers and what look surprisingly like small animal bones once littering the floor are gathered into a small pile.

Is Sage still in the alley?

You re-shelve what seems like a library’s worth of novels, brushing dust off of them as you go.

Did he go home with them, or will they spend the night at a motel? Sage was looking to pay his tabs, after all.

You find a small bottle of nail polish underneath a pile of blankets.

Had he spent the afternoon with them? Longer?

Felix had been looking for that particular bottle. He must have at least a dozen missing items in this room.

He’s going to give them the wrong impression, spending time with them like that. Sage doesn’t do relationships, you recall from one of your first conversations with him.

You look for somewhere to place it, somewhere Felix won’t lose it again, but the room still seems half-drowned with clutter.

There was no reason for him to have been that tender, to have taken their hand in his like that while he roughly pushed their legs apart with his knee-

You slam the nail polish onto the desk in front of Felix with more force than you’d meant to. Hair falls from his face as he looks up at you again, his expression unreadable.

It’s none of your business. He’s none of your business.

“Well, are you just going to sit there all night?” you huff.

“I was under the impression you didn’t want to have sex,” He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he closes his book. “Not that I wouldn’t be happy to oblige.”

“Oh, Felix,” you lean down, running your fingers through his dark hair before settling at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t respond, but you don’t question whether or not you’re commanding his attention. You watch his throat rise and fall as he swallows thickly. “If either of us had what we wanted, would we even be here right now?”

* * *

When the first drops of rain begin to drum against the roof, you realize your mistake. Although your bath could have waited until morning, you dreaded the thought of spending the night with sweaty hair stuck to the back of your neck. After a brief debate on whether to try and wait the storm out or not, the tiredness in your bones triumphs over any sense of reason and you brace yourself for the trek back towards the castle.

The warm water of the bath house stood in sharp contrast in your memory to the torrents of cold rain coming down now. By the time you reach the entrance your clothes are soaked. You empty the water from your shoes and abandon them by the entrance, making an effort to wring as much moisture as you can from your saturated attire. The chilled stone against the soles of your feet nearly causes you to leap.

So much of your energy is focused on not falling or freezing that you don’t hear the sound of an additional pair of heavy footsteps over your own muttered curses until they’re too close for comfort. Adrenaline dances with already-intense feelings of aggravation as you ball your hands into fists at your sides. If anyone was going to pick a fight with you, they picked a hell of a night to do so. You turn towards the sound, and almost immediately wish you hadn’t.

“You look awful. Who pushed you in the moat?” Sage laughs, evidently pleased with himself for scaring you. You avoid his face. It’s difficult to see him in the dim light, but you’re able to make out that he’s put his gauntlet on again.

“It’s the middle of the godsdamned night, everyone looks awful.” You turn away from him, shame creating a not-unpleasant burning in your cheeks.

“The storm makes it feel later than it is,” he jogs forward to fall in step with you. “But I’ve got a decent internal clock - it’s still a few hours until sunrise.”

He spent most of the night with them, then. The chill makes its way to your chest.

“I had a hell of a time out there - got enough to settle my debts and then some,” he continues. “But don’t worry, I didn’t forget about owing you from that card game the other night. I was gonna wait until morning, but if you’re up there’s no time like the present.”

“Keep it.” A pebble digs into your heel, but you don’t stop to shake it off.

“Limited time offer, I’d take it if I were you.” he purrs. “I might just find something to spend it on by morning. Or someone, you never know.”

The air around you falls too-still for a moment, louder than the thunder roaring above you. You’re not sure when your hands started shaking, rage like ants pouring from a flooded pile barely concealed by the sleeves of your shirt. You mutter something about where he can shove his money, if he even has it at all. Even with his long strides, you’re walking faster than him now.

“What’s your problem?” Sage reaches out, catching you by the hand. “Gods - you’re freezing!”

Instinct kicks in. A sharp jerk and you snatch your hand from his, the immediate absence of his warmth feeling criminal. You bury your hand in your pocket, turning from him once more. His eyes dig into your back for a few steps, and then the feeling is replaced by heavy fabric draping over your shoulders.

You stop mid-stride, the bottom of the red fabric of Sage’s coat pooling around your bare feet. The breath you take in smells overwhelmingly of him. Even with your still-wet clothes stuck to your body, it’s the warmest you’ve felt all day. It’s soothing. It’s infuriating.

“Coins are in the pocket,” he snaps, impossibly still from behind you. “You’re welcome.” Lightning flashes outside, and your shadows briefly merge, stretching further into the hallway. How fitting for even his shadow to have consumed all of you so quickly.

A dozen half-formed responses float to the surface of your brain, but your energy is focused elsewhere. You will your arms to shake off the coat, but your limbs don’t respond. You will your legs to push your shivering form forward, but you remain affixed to the spot. You take in slow, deep breaths, hoping to calm the rabid creature hammering against the inside of your ribcage. He’ll be the death of you.

“I don’t want your coat, Sage.” You pour as much venom into your voice as you can, but its echo down the corridor sounds feeble. And you didn’t, truly. Since arriving in Astrea you’d yet to see him wash it, and a dozen small tears and imperfections make themselves known as you glance down at the sleeves. Either dried blood or smeared jam marred the outer forearm (Did he throw down with a baker?), infinitely less offensive than the heat of him which clung to the fabric.

He snorts. “You look like a half-drowned rat, I wanted you to have it.” The juxtaposition he creates with the harshness of his tone and the compassionate gesture leave you at a loss for words.

He didn’t do this to hurt you. There was no way for him to know how much damage his needle-sharp warmth caused as it seeped into your skin from the fabric. He didn’t recognize his kindness for the ambush it was. To him, it’s just his coat. You’re being mean. You’re being unfair to him. It’s just his coat, and that’s all it should be for the both of you. His footsteps ring heavy in your ears, and for a moment it’s hard for you to differentiate between them and your own heartbeat. He stops in front of you, cupping his hands over your shoulders.

“Respectfully, Sage, I didn’t ask-” you begin, tone as cold as you can muster. All lessons on telepathy thus far had proved fruitless and frustrating, but his intentions are exact. You meet his eyes, severe and caustic as molten gold, and cringe slightly.

“You didn’t have to. Don’t have to.” he cuts you off. You don’t have to thank me either, but it’d be nice.

“Look, I get it. Shit happens. If you gotta be mad, then fine. Be mad with me. I can take it-” Sage stops himself when you scoff, taking the inside of his cheek between his teeth for a moment. His mind oscillates between a call to escalate the situation - he’d barely said a word to you and you were already working on ripping him a new one - and something else entirely. The tremble of your shoulders underneath his hands breaks his resolve.

“Whatever, be mad then. I’ll be sorry if that’s what you want, alright?” Sage sighs. “But just keep the damn coat. I’ll be sorry, you be warm. Then we both go off and have a shitty rest of our night in peace.”

Sage hasn’t been proud of himself, truly and sincerely proud - not the self-satisfied garbage he spits out onto everyone around him - many times in his life, but these words he works out over his waning patience are enough for him to add another tally to his count. Especially over the past few years, he’s been so used to surrendering to whatever anger comes up and allowing it to consume him. You’ve talked with him about it, and he’s repeated your words to himself in the mirror more days than he hasn’t. It’s so easy to give into the scent of blood in the water; to bite and kick and spit out cruel words, to win. He’s not happy about it, but if he’s got to lose to anyone, he’s glad it’s you.

Too incensed to thank him, too proud to look away before he does. His tone has a finality to it, commanding the conversation’s conclusion without saying so, but his hands have yet to leave your shoulders. Heat from his palms has worked its way into your tense muscles. What an inconvenience it will be when he removes them and finds that you’ve utterly melted into him. What a waste of an act of kindness. What a shame.

Part of you that wants to dive past the point of no return, to tell him how you smolder under his touch, to ask his forgiveness in all languages you speak and that you don’t, to pour every inch of yourself out onto his shoes and beg him to fill you back up. Part of you that wants to hang him by the rafters with his tail and never look back. You do neither, and can hear the laugh of whatever god is out there that’s given you these feelings as the sadistic punchline to their cosmic joke. Their angels say: You’re being mean. You’re being unfair to them. The god replies in the deep breath you draw to steady yourself.

“That was pretty cold of me, wasn’t it?” you say. He doesn’t answer. “Pretty frigid even, I guess you could say.”

He accepts your unspoken armistice as a withering light returns to his eyes. No hard feelings.

“I’m not mad at you, Sage.” you know he picks up on your lie as soon as you say it, but he doesn’t call you on it. His gaze is steady, and for a moment you have to remind yourself that he demonstratively doesn’t have the ability to read your mind. “Not that I couldn’t find something to change that, if I wanted to.”

“You’re sure about that?” The way Sage phrases it is not a question.

“Absolutely,” you reply, rolling your shoulders back and straightening your slouch. An embarrassing CRACK erupts from your protesting joints. “For starters, who buys a coat with no way to close the front?”

Sage half-chuckles, half-hums. “There’s buttons on the inside, I just don’t see the point in using ‘em is all.”

All-too-eager hands immediately seize the opportunity to fasten closed the front of your borrowed garments, but frustration soon blooms in you once more as you struggle. Sage attempts to direct you - something about a flap near the seam on the left side - but your labors yield no fruits.

“Need some help?” He doesn’t know how, if, he wants you to answer. You shrug, still fiddling with the edges of his coat, and Sage holds his breath before leaping into the deep end.

He drops to one knee in front of you, smoothing your - his - (it looks better on you, anyway) lapel between his index and thumb as he goes. You freeze, eyes wide, your hands balling into loose fists at your chest - now almost level with his ears. The air feels thick as you inhale.

“May I?” He asks, his voice half-drowned out by a clap of thunder, half by your racing pulse in your ears. You nod almost imperceptibly, eyes searching in vain for something, anything, to focus on instead of the way he’s fixated on the fabric sitting just to the right of your navel.

For a moment, Sage considers making a joke - asking if you’re planning on knocking his eyes out, a quip about what a shame it’d be to hit a man while he’s down - but the words die in his throat. Your chest rises and falls softly, and his ears twitch slightly as the breath of your exhale tickles his hair there.

He pulls the fabric tighter around you, fingers easily finding the buttons hidden behind tattered seams. Sage has fought for more of his life than he hasn’t. He’s broken fingers, almost lost some, even, more times than he could count. Used his hands and swords and whatever else he could find as a weapon. He remembers sanguine days when it felt more natural to lift a blade than it felt to lift a drink to his lips with his friends, than it felt to lift Tulsi from the floor and carry her to bed. His hands remember more than he cares to admit; scars cannot be so easily erased with a trip to the bar.

There’s a distance between those hands and the hands he uses now to fasten the first button just above your hip bone, he thinks. He works steadily; reverently. In the darkness he has to pause every now and then, running his finger along the seam for a few inches until he finds the next set of buttons.

You know it’s rude to stare, but this view of the top of his head has your sense of reason in a chokehold. Sage is being careful not to touch you, not exactly - muttering apologies when one of his knuckles skims across the fabric of your clothes; throwing gasoline on the fire burning in your stomach with each gesture. How he’d managed to go most of the day with no shirt on underneath is beyond you, but his long hair curling around his biceps as he carefully works his way up your torso looks so warm, maybe the cold really didn’t bother him that much. You hope his grip on your waist now will be enough to keep your spirit from leaving your body; that’d be an embarrassing conversation with Felix. As he gets closer, and the flashes of lightning come more frequently, you’re able to make out dark flecks on his lower lip and right cheek. Mud? It wasn’t raining when he got to Fathom, and you didn’t see him outside. Blood? Whose? Worries like moths flutter above your head.

A particularly bright flash illuminates the corridor as Sage secures a button a few inches below your collarbone, and curiosity gets the best of you. You open your mouth to call his name, but your vocal cords work against you. When nothing comes out you take his chin in your hand, maneuvering his face to better look at him. He makes a noise of discontent, but is pliant in your hand. You run your thumb across his bottom lip, carrying thin red streamers of blood against the corner of his mouth.

“Sage, what did you do?” You ask.

His brows meet in the middle like a car crash. “It’s bounty hunting, not nice bounty conversations over dinner. Like I said, shit happens.”

Your finger traces the outline of scratches running below his cheekbone from his hairline. They should be healing, should have been healed before you noticed.

“This jackass had some kind of enchanted ring or something,” Sage answers the question you didn’t ask. “Got me pretty good across the face, but it’s getting better all the time.”

“Let me help you,” magic is already buzzing underneath your fingertips.

“It’s not that bad.” Sage raises his own hand in an attempt to push yours away, but the look in your eyes stops him in his tracks. “Really - you should’ve seen me earlier, used the last of my socks trying to soak-”

“Don’t be like that.” You feel his eyes on your face as you push loose strands of hair back from the wounds.

Sage mutters a reluctant affirmative, and your fingertips warm as the skin of his face stitches itself back together. You rub away dried blood, scrutinizing the pink lines of skin left underneath your touch. How long would it be until you could control your magic enough to leave no traces of injury, until you could keep others from getting injured in the first place?

Sage feels a stone in the pit of his stomach as your thumb pulls at the skin of his lip again, clinical and calculating. There’s something wrong, deeply wrong, Sage realizes at his own disappointment. He’d set this moment on a precipice and that damn look on your face sent it tumbling off the edge. Your brows are knit together in contemplation; the fevered skin of your palm comforting against the line of his jaw.

There was something about this moment Sage would never come back from. His head feels dizzy, like he’d gone a moment too long underwater, as your tongue moistens the skin of your lips.

Let me help you.

Sage opens his mouth, and is stopped in his tracks by the growl your stomach makes. You apologize, cheeks darkening in the dim light, and the two steps you take backwards from him feel like miles.

“I, um, I’m going to go change. I left some street cakes in the kitchen, if you want some.”

Sage stares at the hall you walked down for long after you’re gone.

* * *

Sage is sitting on the kitchen counter when you arrive, picking through a paper bag of your street cakes. He doesn’t look up at you, but tosses a bag perfectly in your direction nonetheless. It looks different than it did when you bought it.

“What happened to all the snakes?” You ask, picking through its remnants.

“I thought you didn’t like ‘em,” Sage replies, mouth full and still chewing. In the dim candlelight, his fingers still hold half of an intricately decorated cake that looks suspiciously like a rattlesnake.

He was right, you didn’t like the snakes. Neither did he.

The two of you eat in silence.

#sage lesath #last legacy sage #fictif last legacy #sage x reader #sage lesath x reader #felix escellun x reader #felix iskandar escellun #last legacy mc #last legacy #when this fandom dies i hope it takes me with it #which probably won't be long so thank god #again haven't written in years pls be kind

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poisonouswritings · 2 years

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Hello, Ozzy. I hope you are doing well and doing magic, as usual.

I have a perhaps a little silly request. Would you write some head canons of the M4 reacting to a MC who just told them (seriously) they are beautiful?

I don't know if you find the subject suitable, but anyway thank you. Love your writings.🌸

I still have several of your asks in my drafts I'm so sorry aofeiuhferpofhuearoifj

GN!Reader, short and sweet, I think this post also more or less fits the criteria aside from it doesn't include Rime

Felix Escellun

Felix has been studying all day. You're not entirely sure what for - something about a spell for harnessing the power of emotions? You're 77% sure that he's trying to find a way to prank Escell - but he's hyperfixating hard. You try to make sure he takes breaks but he's hesitant to pull himself away from his desk unless it's to get a tome from the bookshelf.

So you carry on without him. Do your studying on the floor, practice your spells in the hallway, feed Stella in the kitchen, that sort of thing. You even managed to squeeze in a nap on the couch.

Sometimes you look over to see what he's doing. Different emotions seem to lead to different colored magic. Happy is yellow, sad is blue, angry is red, love is pink, so on and so on. But from what you can tell, this is all only in theory. He hasn't gotten it to work in practice just yet.

Now the moon is high in the sky and you wanna go to bed. But it won't be easy to pull Felix away from his work.

You go over. Squat down beside him and lean your elbows on the desk so you can see his face.

He looks tired. He is tired. He's been at his desk for the last, what, 14 hours? Give or take. That's just how he gets when he's really invested in something. It's admirable that he can have that much dedication, but it's also,, not,,, healthy to be staying up like that. And from the way his brows are furrowed, he's clearly determined to push through the exhaustion.

While he never pulls his eyes away from the paper, he fluffs the tip of his quill against your nose.

"I know what you're about to say. I'll be along just as soon as I can. I know I saw a formula somewhere in this infernal book, and I will find it!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to find it if you were more awake? You look like you're about to drop."

"I most... certainly..." - he pauses to yawn, half-heartedly covering his mouth. His glasses slide down the tip of his nose, and he rubs his eyes before pushing them back into place - "am not falling asleep."

His hair is hanging loose around his head. It really is getting long. You tuck a single soft strand back behind his ear. You can see his eyes starting to close before he jolts himself back awake. So you lean closer and kiss his cheek.

"Alright, alright. You know yourself better than I do. I just think it'd be good to get some beauty sleep - but you're already so beautiful, I guess you don't need it."

..... *strangled noise of mortification*

A light yellow ball of energy - streaked with pink - sparks at his fingertips, surprising both of you.

........ :)

His silver eyes widen as the sudden breakthrough wakes him up. He's positively beaming in excitement as he grabs his quill again, frantically scribbling notes.

"MC, you're absolutely brilliant!"

"I didn't do anything?"

Felix turns deftly in his seat and puts his hands on your shoulders. The bags under his eyes are deep and dark and stubborn, but at least he doesn't seem like he's about to faceplant anymore. He does seem surprisingly open though.

"You were honest. That's more than enough."

"Then I honestly think you should go to bed and get back to this in the morning."

"... Five minutes?"

You get up to your feet, kiss his cheek again in goodnight, and head over to your shared room to get some sleep. It'll be an hour at least before he finally gives in to sleepiness, but at least he's happy.

Meanwhile he spends the next ten minutes burying his face in his arms because he's so flustered that he seriously had that strong of a reaction to being complimented like that.

Anisa Anka

Sometimes you like to watch Anisa train.

Actually you always like to watch her train, but usually visitors aren't allowed on the training grounds or you're busy with Felix and Sage or Saaros.

But anyways today is a day you get to hang out with your amazing super strong girlfriend! Yay!

So you're sitting off to the side. Drinking water does not help your thirst™

Anisa,,, in her armor,,,, swinging her sword around,,,,, flipping her opponents over her shoulder,,,,, she's so strong,,,,,,,,,, hehehehe

Oh I'm so gay for her

It doesn't take too much longer for her to finish up. After she gives her troops a few more rousing words and officially takes them off-duty, she comes over to you. Her cheeks are a little flushed, but you can't tell if that's from over-exertion or embarrassment at how adoringly you're staring at her.

"I hope I gave you a good show."

There's a teasing lilt in her voice and a grin on her lips. You hold one hand out, doing the little grabby-grab motion until she sets her hand in yours. You gently brush your lips along her knuckles, all the while looking up at her.

"You certainly did, Beautiful."

...... *hair poof*

Her eyes search your face to see if you're joking. You're not. So she looks away, clearing her throat like she's trying to keep any semblance of professionalism about her that she can.

"Not at work."

Her protest doesn't sound very genuine, though.

You laugh and finally get up from your seat, looping your arms around her waist and tugging her close. She smells like roses. You nuzzle into her neck, kissing the bottom of her chin.

"I thought you were off-duty?"

She opens her mouth but all that comes out is a little sigh as she holds you tight.

"You're incorrigible."

"Well thank you very much."

Sage Lesath

Sage is still wearing his eyepatch. Even when it's just the two of you.

No matter how much you reassure him, he's self-conscious about it. You can't exactly blame him. Not when you know the two things he associates with it; getting mutilated by the Corrupted in the sewers (he says what upsets him most about that is the fact he couldn't protect you, but you're pretty damn sure that's not the reason he wakes up gasping and clutching his body in pain some nights - he went through something horrible and traumatic and he doesn't want to admit it. You're always there for him, though, and that helps) and being corrupted.

So. Eyepatch.

He'll take it off if you ask nicely enough, but even then his hair usually curtains the eye. Or he looks away from you. Or he just keeps it closed.

The rebuild of Porrima is slow-going. People are hesitant to stay in the open for too long. Always anxious to go into the crumbling remains of buildings for fear of finding familiar faces that never got to see the sun one more time.

It happens more often than anyone wants to think about.

Luckily, the castle itself wasn't damaged (of course Mike took good care of it, he needed it for dramatic flair), so the survivors have been able to use it as their base of operation. It gives them access to a medical wing, plenty of supplies, and a safe space to breathe (once Felix and Rime and other surviving mages have purged the last of the corruption out of the building).

Sage never really liked the castle though. It was always too fancy, full of nobility that judged him and rules of etiquette he didn't see the need for. So he prefers to stay in Fathom.

(So does Tulsi, although you think she mostly just wants to stay close so he doesn't vanish again)

The familiarity is helpful. Once Sage has scent-marked everything in the room, he's more willing to sit still and relax.

Meaning you have an easier time convincing him that you wanna see his eye.

It's one of those types of nights. Sage is curled up beside you, arm thrown over your waist and cheek mushed into your shoulder. You're combing your fingers through his hair, carefully scratching behind his ears. You're talking softly about nothing of real importance. Just,,, being together. That's all.

"Hey. Sage."

"Mm?"

"Can I see it?"

In the old days, he would have grinned and stroked his tail up your thigh and brushed his fangs along your collarbone and asked you what, specifically, you wanna see.

Now he just pouts a little.

"Why?"

You lean down and kiss the top of his head, just slightly favoring his left ear in the spot he likes the most. While you keep your tone casual, your words are genuine and clear.

"Because you're beautiful, and seeing you makes me happy."

........ he presses his face further into the crook of your neck. There's a whine in his words, but it's decidedly more light-hearted than anything.

"You... You always manage to surprise me, y'know."

He slowly shifts off of you, ignoring your self-satisfied grin in favor of carefully undoing the strip of fabric. He spends much longer than necessary foucing on it, winding it up around his fingers neatly. It's fraying pretty badly. He should probably replace it soon. Maybe with a proper patch this time?

Then he buries his face in your chest and shyly peeks up at you, gauging your reaction. His hair covers his eye.

You carefully brush the strands away so you can get a good look. Smile. Smooch his forehead.

"Pretty Kitty."

His content purr vibrates your chest.

Rime Varela

Rime doesn't sleep much.

He says it has something to do with dying, or maybe it was the way Felix wrenched him back. All he really needs is an hour or two a night. Maybe three if he's been doing a lot of intense magic.

So what does he do while everyone else is asleep?

Sometimes it's studying. Other times it's practicing what he's studying.

And then other times it's a very rigorous skincare routine.

It's four in the morning when you're woken up by ice creeping up your spine. A glance over your shoulder shows it's Rime crawling into bed behind you, hugging you against his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You've been busy."

You can hear the smile in his voice.

"All this doesn't come naturally, darling."

You twist around to face him, cupping his cheeks in your palms and using the tips of your fingers to gently pin his ears back against his hair.

"Well, I've always said you're drop dead gorgeous."

....

He tries to glare at you. But you're smiling like you just told the best joke in the universe - even though you make that joke at least once a week - and he can't help but laugh.

"I'm serious!" You protest, but you're laughing too. You drop your hands but he picks them back up and nuzzles his cheeks into your palms.

"You're always serious."

You sweep your thumb along the swath of freckles that bridge his nose.

"You're always beautiful," you reply with a casual shrug.

His nose twitches and his ears flick once before relaxing.

"... Dork."

#fictif last legacy #last legacy #felix escellun x reader #anisa anka x reader #sage lesath x reader #rime varela x reader #fictif felix #fictif anisa #fictif sage #fictif rime #fren asks #ozzy answers #ozzy daydreams

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