#wondering if she knows what that means. that she can speak to and understand wyverns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-silver-peahen-residence · 1 year

Text

||Summoning Chaos: Part 2||

Hello Hello, it's me again with a surprise Drabble. I'm writing a part 2 for my friend from the first one. If you wanna read it, just click this here. So lets see what is going on now hmm?

||Drabble summary||

It seems a lot has happened after the incident involving Ink's great sword. So one could be wondering: Where were the six claws of the blue dragon during the 'Great summoning incident' by Ink's sword. What happened with them or what did Wyvern do. Read to find out!

||Warning||

~Swearing

~A strong head bonks to a certain blue dragon

~Silly funny moments

||Guests in drabble||

~((Guests in this drabble))~

The DBT belong to the wonderful friend of mine Demon mun that runs @demon-blood-youths Please follow her she's amazing <3 Her muses are a mess but I love them so much.

My muses:

My Canon Muses ( Midoriya, Bakguo, Rin, Ren, Atsushi and Denji )(Belongs in their anime/manga but also me due to rping as them as my muses))

Davion belongs and is from the hit series: DOTA: Dragon's blood but he's also my muse due to me rping as him. Some of the other fractions are also mentioned in this drabble too. Along with some other guests too. :3

((Heads up their will be grammar mistakes and other mistakes in this drabble but as stated before, this was written for fun and for my friend. Thank you for understanding and please enjoy.))

It seems a lot had happened during the even of Ink's sword Wyvern caused a big mess with the other fractions. Davion was already seeing it was passing like it never happened...till now. After all that, Ink wanted to try again while showing Davion she gotten better.

Did this happen with anyone else? Well, Davion got his answer when getting a visit from six guys. The six claws of the blue dragon; or to say in short: Ink's mates. Ren Amamiya, Atsushi Nakajima, Bakugo Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Rin Okumura, and Denji Hayakawa were visiting her cousin but he was just offering some food and drinks with Ink who was happily eating some home made double stuffed cheese crust pizza with all her favorite toppings on it. She had a smile on her face chewing while her cheeks were flushed but stuffed.

Yeah, still cute.

However, the guys except for Ren was nervous seeing Ink's cousin again who had his arms crossed over his chest. They knew he was very protective of his cousin so he wonders what they were here for.

"Sooo what do you gentlemen need while coming to visit my cousin and me?" he asked.

"We don't mean to bother you and her. We just wanted to speak to you about well.....her sword-"

"Wyvern right?" he said seeing the boys look at him.

"Hold on, you know about her sword?" Bakugo asked that Davion looks to him.

"Of course I know about the sword. My uncle gave her that sword and....we had some little mishaps two weeks ago so. I figure you guys had something happen related to that?" he asked as the six claws said nothing. Seems so to make Davion sigh.

"What happened????"

"Well, we had different times it happened so I guess we can go first? It happened back in Japan when Ink and her friends helped us out.." Midoriya said remembering.

~~~~~~Flashback#1~~~~~~~

"Bwahhhahahah! You fools!!! You'll never stop me!" A villain shouts pointing at Ink with the DBT and having Izuku and Bakugo with her. This guys was causing a problem here and causing a ruckus now.

"This guy is so full of himself! I swear it's annoying as shit!" Navarro said but holding his rocket launcher annoyed with Shdwkyz agreeing with him. Though villains tend to show off from time to time.

"How about we just knock his block off and shut him up!?" Bakugo said annoyed ready to do that but as he tried to dash towards him, the villain dodges while laughing.

"Missed me! I thought you heroes were suppose to be all cool! You will NEVER catch me! XD" he said while the DBT thinks.

"We will stop you! I mean, who would destory a perfect pizza spot!" Ink said with some sweatdropping. Oh right. He blew up a pizza place Bakugo showed her a while back. But that's not the point here!

"Oh! And what would the little lady do!? You can't stop me!" he laughed.

"Oh yeah! I will stop you!" Ink said pointing but the villain looks to her about to get something but stops to blink. "Uhhhhhh..."

"Ink? What's wrong?" Izuku asked as Ink said nothing but turns to him and the others rubbing the back of her head with eyes closed, smiling.

"I forgot my sword!" she laughed nervously as everyone falls to the ground twitching.

'Ink seriously!?' Navarro said in his mind. The villian blinks to sweatdrop.

"Uhhhh.."

"Just hold on! I'll just summon him!" Ink said but raised her hand to the air. "Wyvern!!!" she shouts out loud holding her hand up but waits.

.........And nothing.

"Wyvern!" she waited again waving her hand but she sighs now looking annoyed. "Oh not again. Wyvern! WYVERN!!" she now shouts as the Villain looks more confused.

'What the hell???' he thought seeing Ink shouting.

"WYVERN! YOU GET YOUR BUTT HERE RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!!" she shouted as the DBT said nothing with Bakugo and Izuku was silent too.

"Wait, didn't she leave the sword at the UA-Dorms?" Izuku said.

~~~~Meanwhile~~~~~

The class of 1-A was minding their own business eating some lunch and hoping the DBT along with Izuku and Bakugo was alright. True, Ink left Wyvern here but as soon as Kirishima walks by, he heard a thud. "Huh?" he looks to see the sword laying down.

"What's wrong?" Mina asked as she sees Ink's sword now laying on the floor. "Uhhh, wasn't that against the wall-" Suddenly, the sword lets out a giant gust of wind in the living room pushing the two heroes back right into the others.

"Woah! What happened!?" Sato said but everyone looks to see Wyvern now smashing through the wall as the heroes of 1-A screams in a panic.

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW THAT THING WAS ALIVE!!" Denki said pointing as he ducks hearing it smash through the hall and upstairs. But he also heard some screams from upstairs seeing it was some of the girls like Momo rushing down with Jiro.

"What the heck is going on!? Why is the sword alive!?" she said pointing hearing glass breaking.

"WE DON'T KNOW!" Some shouted but quickly heard it smash down to aim to the others. "EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Ida said as everyone goes down as it smashes through the window leaving a destroyed UA dorm building. Everyone was shook seeing the sword flying off but didn't know how to respond to that.

"I told you it was alive. You owe me 20 bucks, Sero.." Mineta said but the class looks to them in silence. "What?"

~~~With the others~~~~

"This...I don't get what is happening here." The villain was confused as Ink was still trying to call her sword. The DBT was a bit embarrassed seeing their leader just shouting and calling it but Izuku and Bakugo sighed.

"Ink, I don't think it's going to-"

"NO no! It will. Damn it, Wyvern!! Where the heck are youuuu!!" she shouts before hearing something woosh by. "Huh?"

"Wait, what is-" As the Villian speaks, something hard hits him behind the head and into the street cracking it. The DBT winces from that but saw Wyvern! Ink held her hand up to catch it but it smashes into her nose as Ink yelps in pain.

"OWWWWWW!!! Ugh, I hate when you do that!" she said to Wyvern annoyed. "Nevermind! Alright you villian, lets go!" Ink said pointing her greatsword at the guy but...she blinks seeing he was gone. "Huh? Where did he go?" Hellmare walks over to tap her shoulder getting Ink's attention and points. The villian was knocked out with a large lump on his head groaning.

"Huh?!? NO way, I didn't even get to fight!" Ink said that the others sigh. Hours later, Mr. Henderon has to explain to the students and the teachers while he was assuring they would pay for the damages. Ink was sad she didn't get to fight but at least it was not too bad...no it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

".....Wait, that happened?" Davion asked with Izuku nodding.

"Yes. Ink was more sad the guy was knocked out before fighting him." Bakugo said but Ink looks to smile.

"Sorrie!" she giggled but Davion looks to her then at them.

"Okay. That's one story. What about you?" he asked Ren.

"Well, it was involving a mission of changing someone's heart...." he said.

~~~~Flashback#2~~~~~

"You wont' get away with this!!" Panther said struggling in her ropes with the other Phantom Thieves with The DBT who was there. The guy was laughing seeing his new targets while he was holding a knife.

"Oh come now, you guys lost. Think of it as a win-win situation. Now, you guys wont' be able to stop me!" he laughed with Ink struggling in her own ropes.

"Ughhhh you won't get away with this! I'll kick your butt for this!" she said but the guy laughed finding Ink funny.

"Good luck with that. I have the famous Phantom Thieves and the DBT as prisoners. You won't be able to stop me!" he smiled with Ink struggling.

"That's what you think! Wyvern!!" she shouts as the guy blinks seeing Ink waiting but blinks. "Wyvern!?" she shouts again but the other members blink confused.

"Uhhh Joker, what is she doing?" Panther asked.

"...She's trying to-" Seconds later they heard something break upstairs in this place. "Huh?"

"Wyvern! Will you get over here and help!!! Where are you!?!" she said but the guy really was confused before hearing some glass breaking. "The hell!?" he looks up seeing something smashing through his house or palace as it shows shreads of paper, books, and other things being destroyed.

"NOOOO!! WHAT THE HELL IS DOING THAT!?" he said going to try and stop it but the others now worked on getting loose hearing the guy screaming in a panic. "WHY IS THEIR A DRAGON SWORD MOVING?! IS IT ALIVE-NO STOP! DON'T DESTROY THAT!" he said trying to stop Wyvern. The Phantom Thieves was shocked hearing this and the DBT sighing. Not again.

"Maybe we should leave before we get crushed?" skull said as everyone quickly rushes out to see the wooshing of a blade breaking, smashing, and burning everything and the guy screaming.

"So that's where he took Wyvern huh? Dang it.I knew he stole him from me!" she said with arms crossed. In a while, the house came crashing down in rubble. This left everyone shocked but heard pained groans of the guy crawling out crying.

".........."

"I'm going to just call the cops.." Hellmare said doing that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

".....Ink.."

"Sorrie. I didn't know that jerk took him till I woke up from being knocked out with the others." she said.

"It's true but my team was shocked seeing such a thing happen. But thanks to it, everything he had was destroyed to send him to jail." Ren said.

"Okay, that explains. Who is going next?" he asked seeing Denji and Rin go.

"Well, ours is just something normal for us." Rin said.

~~~~~~Flashback#3~~~~~~~~

"Come on guys, we need to kill this thing!" Rin was holding his blade Kurikara as the blue flames burn around him. Denji and Ink was on either side seeing a monster like demon roaring out destroying what was close.

Denji was in his chainsaw man form trying to cut this thing down but it was pretty big as it smacks him into the building. He groans from the smack with Ink and Rin charging but gets hit away as well.

"Damn it!" He lands but catches Ink who was set down.

"Thanks Rin! We need to get rid of it before it destroys this place!" she said.

"I know but we need to do something!" he said.

"I know! I can cut it down while you distract it!" she said as Rin looks to her.

"Sounds like a plan!" he said rushing to attack the feral demon with Denji helping as Ink got ready to summon her great sword. "Wyvern!" she calls out for him waiting but nothing showed up.

"Ugh, not again. Wyvern!" she shouts again waving her hand hard for it but nothing.

"Uhhhh Ink, Could you hurry!? Were struggling a little!" Rin said ducking from a swipe as Denji was cutting into it.

"Uhh trying! Just hold on!" she said. "Wyvern!!" she kept trying again and again. "Grrrrrr...WYVERN! GET OVER HERE NOW! STOP BEING A DUMB BUTT AND GET OVER HERE RIGHT-" As she said this, something flies by quickly that a slich like noise was heard. She blinks seeing Rin and Denji fall but saw the feral demon's head but clean cut off. The two blink seeing this but the body falls back with a loud thud. However, the sword flies right towards Ink but not in her had but right in her face. "GAH!" It made her crash to the ground knocked out.

"INK!" Both Rin and Denji rushes over seeing her twitching.

"HEY YOU DAMN SWORD! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT TO INK!?" Denji said about to grab Wyvern but it headbutts him hard in the head sending him flying to a building knocking him out.

That just leaves a very confused Rin standing there. "....What the hell just happened?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So that's what happened." Ink said remember rubbing her forehead the other boys sighed while Davion pets her head. Well, seems Wyvern caused more trouble than he though.

"Huh, that was....geez." he said.

"And I still got the mark from him after he knocked me out." Denji grumbles.

"Okayyyyy.....and what about you Atsushi? I believe your the last one." Davion asked.

"Well....mine was sorta the same but different.."

~~~~~~~~~~Flashback#4~~~~~~~~~~

"So what do we do now? I heard that they have some special going on." Atsushi asked the DBT and some of the ADA members while they were all having lunch. Dazai was humming a bit.

"I don't know I heard some food was pretty good." he said smiling as everyone relaxed. However, that's when something loud was banging on the door. "??????"

"I wonder who that could be?" Dazai asked. Before anyone got up to answer, the door got smashed down by someone showing a rather very angry Ryunosuke Akutagawa with Chuya as well. Both said nothing but Ink blinks.

"Hi Chuya! Are you here to visit!?" Ink said but he looks to her.

"You!!! This is your fault!!" he said in a serious tone.

"Ummmm, is their a problem?" Fosh asked.

".....You could say that. But we need to talk about your leader and the destruction that damn sword of hers did!" Wait, what!?

"Uhhhh..what are you talking about?" Jaron asked but that's when another shows up with some others.

"What am I talking about!? I'm taking about that damn sword that did some damage to Port mafia!?" Chuya said.

"Huh?!?"

"Well, so this is where the little destroyer is hmm?" The group blinks hearing the tone to see a male walk in. Ogai Mori was there that some blinks.

"Oh no, what is wrong now Mori?" Yukichi Fukuzawa asked but Mori sighed.

"Lets just say we need to speak to you about some things. Do you have a meeting room?"

The DBT and ADA blinks wondering what this is about.

~~~~~Hours later~~~~~~

"I'm telling you it was because of that damn sword! What was it called Wyvern! Yeah! Your leader's damn sword crashed through three of the buildings. Were you planning some attack on us!?" Chuya said pointing at Dazai.

"Hmm? No???? I mean, we are all friends here aren't we? We didn't attack or plan a attack on you guys." he said with a casual shrug that Chuya twitched annoyed.

"YOU DAMN SON OF A-"

"Chuya, enough." Ryu said but he looks to Ink with arms crossed. "As what he means, your 'weapon' destroyed or caused heavy damage and we are unsure if this is your way of attacking or breaking our little peace agreement we made with one another." he said in a cold tone making the DBT tense.

"Wait, Wyvern did that? I thought I had him back in the hotel back during that....." she said scratching her head but Chuya sighs.

"Well, seems not! Your damn sword did a lot of damage! If you want proof here!" He slams some pictures for the DBT to see as Hellmare looks. She saw pretty bad damage done to three of the buildings. Seems they were not joking.

"Oh dear.."

"See?! I mean what the hell!? I thought you were going to not attack us we didn't even do anything!" he said.

"Look, she didn't mean to! Wyvern has well..it's not like a normal weapon! It's hard to explain what that sword is but it's not what you think!" Maggie said but the DBT was trying to explain with the two leaders listen to this.

"So what are you guys going to do!? You got some explaining to do!" Chuya said glaring but Mori pats his back to calm him down but makes him sit.

"Now now..I'm sure we can find a way for Miss Van Ink to pay for the damages. Though, Maybe you have a idea? Because if not..I'm afraid we will have to find another way for you to pay us back for the damages." Mori said smiling in a cold way sending shivers down the DBT's backs except Ink.

"Hold on, I'm sure we don't have to result in a fight-"

"And you don't think so? Our friend here damaged a lot of things..so unless you have a way to explain why this happened I'm afraid we'll have to punish you for it." Mori said as the DBT got ready to fight with the ADA as well till suddenly....

"WAITTTTTTTT!!"

Everyone blinks to see someone show up but saw it was Matt Knack? Ryu blinks seeing him here as he was just getting here thanks to Shrika giving him a lift.

"Hold on a moment! You don't have to do that!" he said walking in.

"And why not Matt? Can you explain why?" He asked.

"Yeah, I can! Wyvern tends to do that a lot. It does it back home as well, believe me I've seen it." Matt said as Mori blinks with Ryu and Chuya confused.

"Hold on, that sword is alive then!?"

"Yep!" Matt smiles.

".....I....what the fuck!?" Chuya shouts.

"...So when it was moving around like it was possessed it was alive or is?" Ryu asked.

"Yeah, he's alive but he tends to do this a lot. He did a lot of damage back home before so. So believe me, this is nothing new." Matt explains to his mate while Ryu was silent about it. Both Fukuzawa and Mori didn't know that but looks to Ink who laughs nervously.

"........I see....Well, that's something new to know...." he said with Fosh sighing.

"Ummm M..Mr. Mori? We are so sorry for Wyvern. But we can give you a check to pay for the damages." he said but Mori looks to him as Fosh looked nervous. "That would be nice.." he said but Dazai was curious.

"Jaron, I am wondering: what does Matt mean?" he asked.

"Well..you see.." Jaron explains to Dazai what happened to the other. In a few moments, Dazai blinks.

"Wait, really?" he said seeing Jaron nod. His response...

"PPHHHFFFANNAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!! XDDDD" Dazai bursts out laughing hard while falling out of his chair holding his stomach.

"STOP LAUGHING DAZAI, IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Chuya shouted.

"YES IT IS!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

"STOP LAUGHING!"

"OH GOD MY STOMACH! I COULD DIE FROM THIS!! HAHAHAHAHA!!"

Everyone blinks seeing this but The DBT sighs with Fosh writing a check to Port mafia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Uhhh..."

"Yeah, Dazai was laughing so hard he was doing this for a whole hour till we had to stop him. But, that's what happened with all of us due to the great sword." Atsushi said with Davion thinking.

"..Who would have thought that sword made even more trouble..." he mutters. "But, at least I know." he said with a sigh.

"Yeah, but we are not blaming Ink or anything but still.."

"I know, I know. As she said, Wyvern has a mind of his own so...if your going to be with my cousin, you have to know that. But...thanks for telling me." he said as the boys nod.

"Though, I'm still serious about you guys being there for Ink so please don't do anything stupid to hurt or harm her...or else." he said as the boys tense.

"Y..Yes sir." they said while Ink happily was eating like nothing was wrong. Well, at least it was fine again.....or peaceful without another thing breaking from Wyvern.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #summoning chaos part 2 #the six claws of the blue dragon #the fractions of NYC #davion #van ink #demon-blood-youths #peahen writer #summoning chaos au #fraction adventures au

9 notes · View notes

hazelcephalopod · 3 years

Text

The Eye of the World Ch 12-13

Disclaimer: this is my first read thru but I’ve watched the first 4 episodes of the show and been spoiled on some things. So… I’m going to lean into that. Enjoy figuring out what I know and what I think in know and what I don’t. Also s/x I add commentary when I edit.

Spoilers for the first book under the cut.

Immediate impression: civilization finally! Things start to let up. New dangers emerge ahead.

Ch 12

Ah yes horse riding is uncomfortable

Oh so men not horses. (Ferries used to use horses right? S/x?)

Lol. Everyone “we are very dangerous. See our weapons.” (Half of them are nervous teenagers)

Lmao. Moiraine and Egwene why? They can’t take them seriously either I guess

Yea no, “don’t trust anyone and be careful” warnings weren’t for nothing dude

Wait… how… is it Darkfriends who use the Dragons Fang or some sort of uh… other type of group? Huh. Oh… ok so I’m guessing it’s to mark people others suspect of being Darkfriends. Final answer! (I later get more evidence of this)

Also Draghkar, is an evil wyvern??

Oh shit. That’s a good move. Distracting them while she gets rid of the ferry. At least they got paid well

Hay maybe they can sleep now?

Nope! Still need to run.

She is juggling so many balls and displaying such competence.

Oh! Or not? Actually sleep time. Sleep!

Oh so the magic thing she did is like… a stimulant not a substitute for true rest

Oh there’s the screaming again

Wait… did Lan really get this place ready before he and Moiraine got to Emonds Field? Interesting. Very competent.

Dude… come on

Yay! She can magic!

A map!

Ch 13

Honestly I do have to say it… uh consent Moiraine! Can’t just magic people with no explanation. Or consent

“In a month or two we’ll be back” -Perrin. Sure buddy. Yea…

Mat really does seem to speak so much truth

So much sadder because they all know it’s not true.

They are beginning to enter the outside world. Though only barely I love reading all of their reactions and even tho it’s not a big thing, the understanding that people are people.

That said they can not be far from home. Of course things look similar

Training to use weapons?! Oh… that’s a good little subversion. They are all quite proficient in the bow.

The melee weapons however…

Huh wait Lan that sounds like… because it’s is. “The flame and the void” -Tam al’Thor. Aka how to center and focus

Food! Not varied food but food all the same

Reasons people keep bards around- travel is boring

You haven’t talk to her in 2 days?! And this is what you bring up? She’s changing her hair…

Like it get it but also… come now.

Egwene is kinda right. Rand does have a point. I… kinda hate arguments but it does makes sense. Like, this was bound to happen

As you said she’s also a Two Fielder. All of them stubborn as hell

Lol. They are the entertainment tonight.

Insults mainly Rand. Insults.

“You know I think we lost them for good” -Mat. No Mat, you can’t just say things like that!

Now Perrins turn to speak truths. He is indeed the voice of reason.

I mean seems pretty harsh Moiraine. Tho they have been acting like little shits tonight so I can forgive the bluntness and appreciate the honesty

He’s really just a scared boy huh?

Yes. It’s literally just like talking and basic lessons. Like how she answered that question by addressing Egwenes actual fears more than the question itself

And also… how quickly th Aes Sedai are humanized for good and bad. Because she admits they are humans as good and flawed as any human. And that the meme Aes Sedai are not bad

Baerlon! Seems like a real if probably small city to me!

The wonder. The amusement at the wonder. And the stubborn homesickness

Do you think she can read your mind?

Huh. So Darkfriends are just like… around.

So how does she go about lying about her name then?

Honestly appreciate the description of the town

She is known in this town?

Ah by this guard (I later learn and others)

Oh great. Children of Light…

Huh. What’s in Saldaea

Logain?! (He’s in Ghealdan tho)

So it’s not common knowledge that the taint drives Aes Sedai men mad. Huh, ok

Because prophecies are annoyingly confusing

“A prophecy that was easily fulfilled would not be worth much…” -Thom. I’m torn. On the one hand I guess? On the other eh, idk, depends on the prophecy

Lan and Moiraine just have like unlimited money it’s seems. Where are they keeping it?

More friends! (Told you I learned)

#the wheel of time #wheel of time #many thoughts on twot teotw #< block or filter to stop seeing these posts #wot #the eye of the world #eye of the world #eotw spoilers #twot book #twot book spoilers

14 notes · View notes

queenofthefullmoon · 4 years

Text

An exhaustive list of Dark Souls 3 bosses I would or would not date

Iudex/Champion Gundyr

We’re starting off this list with a strong yes. Our boy Gundyr has had a hard, difficult life, and he deserves some good company. He’s tall, strong, and I trust him to protect us as we set a lovely camp site outside of the fire link shrine.

Vordt of the Boreal Valley

Vordt is big and he is feral which are truly the only two qualities I look for in a man. Together we’d be unstoppable. I mean, think about how easy it would be to go around with him: just climb on his back and let the rodeo begin, baby. This argument alone should be enough to convince you that Vordt is a suitable boyfriend, but here’s another one: if you get too hot in the summer, worry fucking not for your gigantic man can hold his equally gigantic hammer over you and cover you with snow like an italian man covering his pasta with parmesan.

Cursed Rotted Greatwood

Now while I’m certain it would be a perfect partner for some people, the Cursed Rotted Greatwood isn’t for me. For one, I am not fan of curses, or rot, or weird sticky balls, or strange orange acid, or pale white and slightly viscous hands bursting through a living tree. Secondly, I feel like the crowd of Hollows who group up around the tree would be a big impediment to our intimacy, and I’m not ready to be the mother of 20 Hollows.

Crystal Sage

No offense but you’d be an idiot for not wanting to date the Crystal Sage. All wrapped up in one package, you get a super competent sorcerer bf, who wears the coolest hat in the galaxy and an equally cool cape, and who overall looks like the upgraded version of a plague doctor. In addition to that he also has a pretty rapier so you can both engage in some sparring (which we all know is the most romantic couple activity).

Deacons of the Deep

Probably one of the worst options on the list, they’re all crusty, rotting men moaning around a biggass coffin. There are many technical questions. If I dated a deacon, would I have to date all of them? Can we go out on dates or are they obligated to stay next to the coffin at all times? Can I even date them at all?? Not that I would, because I have standards. The only pro to entering this relationship(s?) would be that I’d probably get one of their robes for free, but the cons are so numerous that I’d rather buy it myself.

Abyss Watchers

Let’s be real and honest even if it hurts. Would I date an Abyss Watcher? Yes. Maybe I’d even date two. However, would an Abyss Watcher date me? No, because they’re all in love with Artorias, and I can’t blame them for that.

Old Demon King

At first I considered dating the Old Demon King like a Russian Instagram model dates an old, rich American man: with a great deal of fake love but above all great patience in order to be the only person on the will. But then I thought about it more, and what does the Old Demon King have to offer, really? A big firework show that will leave him exhausted like the old creature he is, and maybe some pyromancies. Truly, it is not worth it, especially since I’d have to take residence where he lives, in a big old room filled with the corpses of his kin.

High Lord Wolnir

I’ve got nothing against Wolnir personally, but I have no interest in skeletons, nor in his army of skeleton children. As stated above I’m not ready to be a mother. I feel like if we got in an argument and he sighed, he would poison me with his awful breath and I would die a horrible death. Also, living on the brink of the Abyss doesn’t appeal to me that much. However I would like Wolnir to be a good friend I can talk jewelry with because let’s be honest, the man (skeleton?) is blinged the fuck out even in death and I respect that.

Yhorm the Giant

Yes, I would date Yhorm. He was nothing but a sweet, misunderstood giant who always tried to get people to trust him and he convinced me. I would put my life in his big hands. Think of the possibilities. Just like with Vordt he could carry you everywhere but in a less reckless way if you prefer proper manners. You’d never have to worry about not seeing anything at a concert. Also, may I add that waiting for you to show up while sitting on his biggass throne is an absolute power move? Yhorm is a Lord of Cinder, but above all, a Lord of this heart.

Pontiff Sulyvahn

Would I date him because of his appealing aesthetic? Yes. Would I date him for anything else? No. Sulyvahn is absolutely terrifying, completely unhinged in the most frightening way, which is that he doesn’t look bat shit crazy. I could be thinking that everything is going well in our relationship then suddenly he’d lock me in a dungeon then would feed me to his weird friend because I put a fork in the knife drawer. He could pretend to propose and give me a weird fucked up ring with his eye in it and the next thing I know I’d be running in a field on all fours. I don’t trust like that.

Aldritch, Devourer of Gods

I’m so sad about Aldritch because literally everything about him is completely unappealing, unacceptable, unnatural, unholy, abhorrent, but he has the delicate and beautiful face of Gwyndolin. While our lovely Gwyndolin looks gorgeous as ever it doesn’t make up for the fact that Aldritch devoured people and probably wouldn’t find love to be a good reason to not eat his partner. The only reason I can find to have a friendship (not even a romantic relationship) with him is if you really like experimenting with cooking and you really, really need someone to taste your inventions.

Dancer of the Boreal Valley

I feel attraction, which means that just like any other being who feels attraction, I would date the Dancer. She is beautiful, graceful, a bit feral, and would not hesitate to put a flaming knife to my throat, which is the description of my dream woman. Imagine walking the streets with her, trying to hold her hand while it dangles 3 feet above you and she insists on holding her sword, actually, so she might slay anyone who tries to approach you, which she communicates through icy breaths and murmurs. The date of a lifetime.

Oceiros, the Consumed King

Another awful choice on this list, Oceiros is RABID and also, as far as we know, still a married man. You really want to date a man that hasn’t even gone through his divorce but already looks like this? Me neither. I’m already not big on dragon fucking but the fact that he’s all viscous and has weird growths all over him is not helping. Also, he has children, and we know how I feel about that — although, given how he treats them, he probably won’t have kids very soon (too far?).

Ancient Wyvern

So I’ve stated that I’m not very big on dragon fucking. With that said, do I think the wyvern is sexy and beautiful? Absolutely so. You’re probably like « Blue you’re sending mixed signals, are you gonna date the lizard or not? » and to that I say, date? Perhaps not. I would however like to form a lifelong bond with this wonderful force of nature and fight by its side, live a long and fulfilling life travelling along with it, only to die at the same time atop the tallest mountain in the world, where our skeletons will be discovers hundreds of years in the future by brave explorers, who will confirm that the legendary songs that were written about us were in fact not just a myth.

Nameless King

You’ve just read what I said about the wyvern. I feel like the Nameless King really understands me and would respect me for that. We could bond over our love of dragons and other flying scaly beasts and perhaps share some chaste kisses while soaring the sky on our companions. It’s nice to date someone who loves pets as much as you. I feel like he would be a fun guy to hang around in general, maybe he’d let you braid his hair or try on his crown. He can arrange personalized fireworks shows for you with his lightning powers. I don’t think you’d ever be bored around him.

Dragonslayer Armor

Dating an empty suit of armor has never bothered me (see: ds2 Ruin Sentinels), however I have beef with the dragonslayer armor. Is it a beautiful armor? Perhaps a bit worn off, but the reply remains affirmative. However, it is controlled by Pilgrim Butterflies, which basically means I’m dating one to multiple of these things in the shape of an armor, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m not down for that.

Lorian Older Prince and Lothric Younger Prince

Here comes the delicate moment where we have to make a choice without offending anyone. I personally, speaking for myself, in my own opinion, would rather date Lorian. Reason: he is big, strong, and a bit rabid, which I’ve made very clear is my type. I don’t dislike Lothric, but I feel like we’d be better off as best friends who have a really snarky group chat where we shit talk the entire kingdom. That’s pretty good because if I even just slightly disliked Lothric I’m pretty sure Lorian would sense it and would not hesitate to murder me on sight.

Champion’s Gravetender and Champion Greatwolf

Well the full name is just a formality here, I’m not completely insane so I don’t want to date this rabid wolf. I feel like the Champion’s Gravetender is just a normal dude who’s a bit in over his head and it’s not his fault but he just seems a bit boring compared to all my other options. Instead of a date I think he’d be more of an awkward flirt I had when I was bored and then I came to my senses but didn’t know how to disengage, but in the end it worked out because he was more interested in his work anyway.

Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Again a choice has to be made and I will have to be predictable and say I’d date Elfriede. Just like Dancer she’s what the woman of my dreams is made of. She’s graceful and could easily take my life and I think it’s awfully sexy of her to be like that. I think I’d be accepted into the family pretty easily, which is important since Father Ariandel cares about Friede so much. I’d go visit him sometimes, play chess with him, bring him his flail, normal interactions with your girlfriend’s dad.

Soul of Cinder

I’m gonna be a tiny bit freaky here and say I’d date the Soul of Cinder. Dating it is just like opening a Kinder Surprise egg, you never know what you’re gonna get (sorry Americans for excluding you here). That makes life exciting and doesn’t let routine stall your relationship. Every day you can wake up with the question « What weapon will my darling walk around with today? The flaming sword, or the sorcery staff? » and be surprised by the answer. Truly ideal, but I understand it’s not for the faint of heart.

Demon Prince

I’m gonna go with a maaaaaaybeeeee? leaning towards no. I mean yes, the Demon Prince is a weird fleshy flaming demon, and that may be a bit gross, but I’ve gotta admit I admire his style, the drama of it all. The care he puts into his entrance, the attitude in his moves. If we don’t date I’d at least want to be friends so he can teach me his ways.

Darkeater Midir

I have very intense and contradictory feelings towards Midir. In one hand, holy shit, absolutely epic dragon, the spirit of companionship is growing in me. On the other hand, this beast is RABID and pretending I could tame him is foolish, and pretentious. I guess in the end the answer remains that I don’t date dragons, I just want to adopt them as my extremely exotic pets.

Halflight, Spear of the Church

Yeah I’d date Halflight, I know it’s the easy answer but look at him. I mean shit he’s walking around like a little thotty with his shirt open and you mean to tell me I’m not supposed to wanna date him because he looks pretty much like a regular dude? My boy Halflight WANTS me to date him or else he would not show up with his tiddies out to a sword fight, which as an activity already has enough erotic implications on its own.

Slave Knight Gael

I’m gonna say it unashamedly and I’ll say it again: I would date Gael. He’s been nothing but helpful and when he tries to attack you it’s to help his little lady that he’s adopted as his niece. We love a chaotic parental figure. Maybe he’s a tad bit old and dirty but there’s nothing a good bath can’t fix and I’m sure he’d appreciate having someone taking care of him for once. Again, he’s got that slightly unhinged quality to him that makes him delightful. When I walk around with my partner I want us to instill both fear and fascination in people which we would be able to accomplish perfectly well.

Dark Souls 1: Remastered date list // Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin date list

710 notes · View notes

love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Wyvern Prince 21

M wyvern X F human, 2,840 words

Davrakoss settled down gently at the entrance to the cave. You slid slowly off his back and landed awkwardly on the ground. There was a rushing noise as Davrakoss transformed and immediately, his hands were on you, steadying you. “Are you all right?”

Your legs felt wobbly after flying for so long, but they were okay. “I’m good,” you said. The entrance of the cave loomed in front of you, tall and dark. Your stomach curled nervously.

Davrakoss squeezed your hand in his. “They’ll know we’re here already,” he said. “Come on.”

He pulled you into the depths of the cave. Even with his hand in yours to guide you, it was still dark and you stumbled a little. Darakoss’ grip never faltered. He slowed down and paused when you needed it, guiding you through the darkness.

Eventually, the lamps on the walls were lit and you could see the curving tunnels around you. The light meant you could also see Davrakoss’ expression. His lips were set into a tight line and his brows were furrowed. You could see his tail tip twitching back and forth, staying just far enough away not to hit you.

You stumbled, paying too much attention to him to watch where you were going. Davrakoss stopped, taking a firmer hold of your arm. “Are you all right?” he asked again. You nodded.

“Are you okay?” you asked. He blinked. “I mean, you look nervous.”

He stared at you a moment, then gave a gentle laugh. “You know me too well,” he said. “It’s ridiculous to be nervous, I know. They know how important mating is for wyverns, and they won’t force me to be with anyone I’m not willing to be with.”

“But you think they might be disappointed.” Davrakoss nodded, lowering his head a little.

“Their opinion doesn’t really matter,” he said. “And they like you, I know they do.”

“Of course their opinion matters. They’re your parents. It’s okay if you care what they think.” You reached up and cupped his face in your hands. He leaned into your touch, expression smoothing over. “I care what they think too.” You gave a quiet little laugh. “At least I don’t have that problem. My parents would be beyond happy that I was with royalty.”

“Even if it was a wyvern?” Davrakoss asked, eyes shining with amusement.

“The royalty part would supercede that, I think,” you said.

“Then I’m pleased that my potential in-laws approve of my son’s relationship.” You jumped and instinctively ducked behind Davrakoss before you could stop yourself. He reached out to you, settling you with a squeeze to your hand.

“My apologies.” A wyvern head emerged from the darkness, moving slowly closer. “I did not mean to startle you, little human.” He focused on Davrakoss. “Son. I am glad you are here.”

“I’m glad I could make it,” Davrakoss said. “I know you have met before, but I would like to formally introduce you to my partner, Sara Fouchane.” He gestured to you and you bent in a small bow.

“A pleasure to see you again,” Davrakoss’s father said, nodding at you. “It seems my son has become very attached to you. Not a bad choice, in my opinion.” He started to turn around, glancing behind him quickly. “But formal introductions should be saved for your mother, don’t you think?”

Davrakoss nodded and squeezed your hand. As soon as his father had taken a few steps down the tunnel you started to follow.

You emerged into a large room. It was much as you remembered, with Queen Kandolva settled in a large, nest-like structure in the middle. Davrakoss took in a small breath. When you glanced at him, he was smiling a little, eyes shining.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You didn’t have to try for long.”

Queen Kandolva shifted and you saw that within the nest, there were enormous flat stones that glowed faintly red. Evelstrand exhaled a small gout of flame toward her and Queen Kandolva lifted herself up to let the fire wash over the stones. They glowed a deeper red. Looking underneath her, you could see that her bronze belly was oddly distended, no longer the sleek, aerodynamic shape typical of a wyvern.

Understanding rushed into your mind and you ducked your head. “Congratulations. I look forward to welcoming a new royal child into the world.”

Queen Kandolva made a pleased rumbling noise in the back of her throat. “It will be some time yet before I am ready to lay the egg, and some time after that before it hatches.” She looked at Davrakoss with an expression you decided was probably fondness. “My first took quite a bit of time to hatch. If your egg had not been so warm, we would have been worried you were lost.”

Davrakoss flushed. You found yourself wondering what he looked like as a baby. What did baby wyverns look like? As far as you were aware, no human had ever seen a baby wyvern. The idea that you might someday be the first was almost dizzying.

“My son,” Queen Kandolva continued, “indicated to us that you two have recently decided to mate.”

It was your turn to blush. “We haven’t mated. I just… we have announced that we are a couple formally, but we haven’t done anything like that, I promise.”

Queen Kandolva tilted her head back and laughed. “I apologize if you thought I was intruding. I meant more that you have decided to be mates. A mated pair.” She looked between you and Davrakoss. “Although you just indicated that you have not formalized the arrangement.”

“No,” Davrakoss said. His cheeks were a dark shade of pink and he was resolutely not looking at you. “It’s… we’re working on it.”

“But you are serious,” Queen Kandolva said. Her gaze was thoroughly focused on Davrakoss, tone firm. “You would not have brought her here if you were not serious.”

Davrakoss’ fingers tightened around yours and he lifted his chin. “Yes. I am serious.”

She pulled her head back a little, looking at the both of you. “And are you serious about this?” she asked, turning her gaze on you. You almost quailed under it, but managed to remain upright.

“I love Davrakoss,” you said. “I know that this relationship may not be easy, but I’m willing to go through that if that means I can be with him.”

Davrakoss beamed at you, eyes shining. Queen Kandolva looked at you for a moment, then lowered her head slightly.

“Humans and wyverns do not often engage in close relationships,” she said. “And Davrakoss being royal only adds to these complications.”

“I’m not going to leave her,” Davrakoss said. “I won’t.”

Queen Kandolva lifted her head. “No. You have conveyed to me how important she is to you. I doubt I could do anything to force you apart. But this relationship may complicate your current position. Being king would give you two duties: one is to be able to defend your position and territory, to project the image of a strong ruler. The other is to produce an heir. Both of these would be impossible with a human as your mate.”

It felt like your stomach had dropped down to your knees. Davrakoss looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “I already said I wouldn’t leave her,” he said, but his voice was weak and winded.

“I am not telling you to,” Queen Kandolva said. “I am telling you that you now have a choice to make. If you become a mate with a human, you will no longer be able to ascend to the throne.”

You looked at Davrakoss. He did not look at you. His throat bobbed with a swallow. That was the extent of his emoting.

“I am not asking you to make this decision immediately,” Queen Kandolva said. “But it will need to be made eventually. You will be allowed to retain your position as ambassador, of course, and you will retain your title. But you will no longer be the crown prince.”

“I gathered as much,” Davrakoss said. His voice was remarkably steady.

You slipped your hand out of his. He glanced at you and swallowed hard again. “We will only be visiting for a few days. You will have my decision by the end of that.”

Queen Kandolva dipped her head. “Of course. I appreciate you making your decision so quickly. If you decide to abdicate your title, it will not be formally announced until your sibling is hatched.” She looked between the two of you. “I should also note that abdicating your title is not reversible. If you decide to abdicate, even if your relationship ends, you will not be able to regain your title. Not easily, at least.” She stared at him, eyes narrowing. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Davrakoss said. “If you will excuse me, I would like to discuss this with Sara.”

“Of course.” Queen Kandolva nodded dismissively at you. Davrakoss tilted his head at you and you followed him.

You didn’t speak until you had made it to your room. It was the same one you had stayed in the last time you had visited his parents. As soon as you had crossed the threshold, you turned to Davrakoss. “You can’t.”

“Don’t,” Davrakoss said. His eyes closed and he took a steadying breath. “It’s my decision.”

“I should have some say in it,” you said. “Davrakoss, you can’t give up being prince-”

“I can,” he said. “And I would only give up my chance of the throne. My title would still be prince.”

“It doesn’t matter! You can’t give that up for me,” you said. “I’m not worth that!”

Davrkoss pressed his lips together. “I think I get to make that decision,” he said. “I happen to think you’re worth far more than a throne.”

A rush of emotions flooded you, ranging from relief to stark terror. “If you give up your title and then something happens and we break up… I mean, I’m going to die before you. You can’t give up the rest of your life for me when I’m not going to be with you that long.”

Davrakoss took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “So instead of taking the risk that I may regret my decision if we break up, you would rather make our breakup inevitable?”

“I don’t want you to regret giving up the throne,” you said.

“You would much rather have me regret not being with you,” Davrakoss said.

“I think it’s the decision you would regret the least,” you said. Davrakoss closed his eyes for a moment.

“And I disagree.” You started to protest, but Davrakoss lifted his hand. “I’m not making my decision right now. But I am telling you what I am leaning toward.”

He sank slowly to the ground and you sat next to him. “Sara,” he said. “I understand your concerns. You are worried that I will take myself off the throne and regret my decision and then resent you for forcing me to take it. Is that correct?”

You nodded.

“But you are not forcing me to do anything. This is my decision, and I make it freely. Becoming king- well, I’ll not say that I was exactly disappointed about it. But it isn’t something I desired either. It was just something that was going to happen to me. My duty to be performed.”

He reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’re something that makes me happy. I enjoy being with you. And…” He stopped and licked his lips. The hard tip of his tail clicked over the stones. “Finding a romantic partner for wyverns is difficult. We’re not terribly social creatures, and we’re often particular about the people we choose to spend our time with. I’m certain you’ve figured this out just in the time you’ve been attending to me.” You nodded. “If I were to give you up, it is entirely possible that I would never be able to find another I love like you.”

Both his hands folded around one of yours, enfolding your fingers in his. “If I could never find someone else like you, if you are just as unique and precious as the opportunity to be on the throne and if you make me far happier than any kingdom ever could, then surely I would be foolish to pick my princehood over you, wouldn’t I?” He lifted your hand, pressed it to his chest. You could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart under your fingers. “I have never cared much for my title. But I care so deeply for you.” His hands tightened around your wrist, pressing your fingers more firmly against his skin. “Please, let me do what I must in order to love you.”

You bent your head, looking away from his golden eyes. “I- you’re sure?”

“I have been surer of little else in my life,” he said. “I love you. Are you willing to be loved by me?”

You lifted your head again, looking into his eyes. They were soft, tender, a gentle glow of embers. “And you… you’re all right with this? You’re okay with giving up… with giving up everything?”

“Not everything,” Davrakoss said. “Not you.” He smiled. “It’s all right if I have you.”

Tears stung at your eyes. You took breaths in an attempt to control them, but you couldn’t manage it. They spilled over anyway and Davrakoss leaned in, kissing at them. His lips were warm against your skin and he was diligent, removing every tear from your skin as they fell.

When you finally stopped crying, Davrakoss sat back and tilted his head. He waited for your answer.

“If you really want to give up your throne, I can’t stop you,” you said. “If you’re really okay with this.”

“I was never overly enamored with taking the throne,” Davrakoss said. “Hm. Come to think of it, this may also solve our problem with the Queen. She may not be as interested in forcing me to marry if there’s no chance of me claiming the throne.”

“It’ll still be an important political marriage if you’re not the crown prince,” you said. Davrakoss shrugged.

“I still have no intention on taking her up on it. Obviously,” he said. He bent in and gave you a quick kiss, then stood. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” you said. “Are you?”

He nodded. “Give me a little bit and I’ll find something for us to eat.” He swept out of the room, vanishing into the stark shadows of the tunnel.

You took the opportunity to unpack. It was a simple activity, which meant you had a lot of time to think.

Davrakoss had been so sure. He had picked you. He had picked you over becoming king of the wyverns.

It was a little dizzying, though you had to admit that you were flattered. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure he’d ever expressed any real interest in becoming king. Perhaps he really was happy to have an excuse to get out of it. Perhaps this was everything working out for him.

The idea that you were a part of someone’s ideal life made your chest feel light. Your mouth pulled up into a small, involuntary smile.

Davrakoss returned soon after you had fully unpacked with the butchered back half of a deer. “You look happier,” he said when he saw you smiling. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” you said. “I think so.”

Davrakoss roasted the deer and you ate together. The meat was a little plain, though Davrakoss dug into only partially cooked meat with gusto. When you were done with dinner, you helped Davrakoss clear the remains away.

“We should get some rest,” he said. “We’ll tell my parents of our decision tomorrow.”

You changed into your nightclothes and Davrakoss carefully piled some blankets on the ground to make a sort of bed.

He wrapped his tail around you as you lay down next to him. “You’re not still worrying about the throne, are you?” he asked, touching a furrow between your brows.

“A bit,” you admitted. “I just… don’t want you to give up something you’ll regret.”

Davrakoss shrugged, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Being king was never something I was terribly invested in. Surely you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t find politics overly pleasant. I’ll do my duty as prince, to care for my people, but in some ways, abdicating the throne is a relief.” He traced a finger along your chin. “I will not regret giving up the throne for you. It’s not a difficult decision.” He leaned in close enough that your noses were almost brushing. “I love you.”

You closed the distance between your lips. Davrakoss sighed against your mouth, eyes closing. “I love you too,” you said when your lips parted. He leaned into you with a contented noise.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#exophilia #wyvern prince #wyvern #wyvern lover #monster boyfriend #monster lover #wyvern boyfriend #Davrakoss #Sara

93 notes · View notes

thepandapopo · 4 years

Text

His Star - Chapter 2: Proposals

Can I get this out before midnight? who knows. But I’m determined to at least bang this chapter out in one sitting because it was Claude’s birthday yesterday damn it and I told myself that for his birthday, I would post at least 2 chapters to this fic, bake him a cake, and have a perfect tea time with myself.

So far everything has been accomplished except for the second chapter. so HERE WE GO.

Pairing: Claude x F!Byleth

In which Claude proposes a vacation to Byleth which may or may not be stress free, and may or may not include going back to Almyra with him so that he can court her properly.

The one where Claude schemes to take his star home so that he can finally get started on his plans to make an honest woman out of her... and also get his parents off his back.

Chapter List

1 / 2 / 2.5

Masterlist

If you would like to be added to a tag list whenever I update, please let me know!

XxXxXxXxX

Of all the things Claude expected to come back to, Byleth falling off a cliff was not one of them.

In fact, after the first time he watched her fall off a cliff following the Battle of Garreg Mach, he never wanted to see it ever again. So when he was faced with his greatest fear for the second time - no no no, she couldn’t leave him again - he had not hesitated to throw caution to the wind and abandon his position at the head of his army. He had dug his heels into Zahra’s flank and as always, the white wyvern was on the same page as her master, flying faster than she had ever flown before towards the falling queen.

Claude was used to any physical contact with Byleth feeling electric, like little shocks of pleasure shooting from his nerves and sending shivers down his spine, but when he caught her in his arms, he was alarmed by how hot her skin felt even through the thick leather of his gloves.

It was clear that Byleth was ill. Extremely ill. And yet she pushed herself to her very limits, standing at the front lines with her soldiers to show them that no matter what, she was with them because she believed in a world of peace.

She believed in his dream.

Suddenly, the fear that gripped his heart mere moments ago gives way to a fiery hot rage that burns through his body.

Byleth has done enough for Fodlan. She has fought countless battles, pushed her body to the very limits, and even carried the burden of having the powers of a goddess (”Teach, you’re joking, right? What do you mean you can turn back time?” “It is exactly what I said, Claude.”).

And now these stragglers and remnants of the Imperial army and Those Who Slither in the Dark come once more to try and revive their warped plans?

There are many things that Byleth deserves, Claude thinks, and being able to lay in bed recovering from a cold without worrying about crazy delusional dark mages is probably near the top of that list.

So when the newly crowned King finally makes it to Marianne and entrusts his secret fiance to her care, he no longer has his usual mask of cheerful indifference. Instead, storm clouds roil and darken his visage, verdant eyes sharp and blazing with cold, calculating determination.

Claude doesn’t remember how many enemies he shoots down that day. But he does know that it isn’t enough to quell the fury that simmers beneath his skin.

----

It is four days after the battle before Byleth finally regains consciousness.

Much to his chagrin, Claude is not there by her side when she rejoins the land of the conscious. In the aftermath of the battle, he resolves to step up and help Byleth with some of her duties while she is recovering. Which is exactly how Claude has found himself in the middle of a dreadfully exasperating conversation with Count Gloucester going over resource allocation for the umpteenth time. Thankfully, the servant chooses this time to burst through the door with the news.

“Your majesty!! She’s awake!”

The words are barely registering in his brain before he is moving, hastily throwing half-hearted apologies towards the clearly disgruntled Count, and rushing out the door.

He makes it to her room in record time. And he knows this because he has timed how long it takes to get to her room from any location in the castle, just in case he needs to get to her quickly.

Sitting upright against a mountain of pillows and bathed in the sunlight from the open terrace doors, Byleth is a vision for sore eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak and cannot help but slip back into the playful banter that he is so used to.

“Teach, we really gotta talk about you and cliffs. I don’t think it’s working out in your favor.”

Claude distantly wonders if maybe he should have said something more romantic, or even just a simply inquiry about her health, but those options don’t sit right with him.

She loves him for who he is, and that includes his old habits and light quips.

She is staring at him like he is a ghost, and really, he cannot blame her. The bed sinks a little with his weight and he reaches out to brush a stray lock of mint so that he can see those beautiful eyes that he missed so dearly.

It has been a long six and a half months since he left her at the top of the Goddess Tower. Probably even more shocking yet, he has since ascended the Almyran throne and that feat itself is quite evident from the brightly coloured and extravagant robes that he now dons on a daily basis.

“What’s the matter, Teach? Cat got your- oof!”

She crashes into him without warning and he is immediately reminded of how solidly built she actually is. Byleth is a fighter first and foremost, after all. Claude should have known that a few months behind a desk tending to paperwork wouldn’t have been enough to deteriorate the wall of lean muscle she has built over years of mercenary work.

“I... You... you’re really here?”

Oh, Goddess. He has missed her voice.

His arms snake around her, one coming to a rest across her lower back, pulling her smaller form closer to him as the other hand snakes its way into her hair.

Lips against her temple, he gifts her with a gentle kiss before humming his reply against her skin.

“I am, my love. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

Neither of them can bring themselves to separate, not when this moment feels so much like a dream that could dissolve at any second. Instead, they trade quiet whispers of affection that do not even come close to reflecting the longing and yearning they have experienced since they parted ways.

The sun is beginning to fall below the horizon by the time they manage to pull apart for longer than a heartbeat. Byleth has long since scooted over and pulled Claude under the covers so that they can lay side by side rather than perched uncomfortably at the edge of her bed.

He lets out a pleasant hum when her fingers begin carding through his hair, slender fingers parting his thick brown hair and smoothing it down the back of his head.

“So...”

He knows that tone. He’s been on the receiving end of it multiple times, mostly back in his schooldays when she catches him red handed with a vial of his latest experiment uncorked and ready to pour into someone’s meal.

“King now, is it?”

“Er... yeah.” He ignores the urge to scratch his neck sheepishly and opts to bury his face in her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of blade oil and jasmine that is unique to Byleth.

“King Khalid.”

Ah crap.

He lifts his sheepish expression to meet her narrowed eyes, “By, you have to believe me when I say I was going to tell you. But I had to sort a lot of things out first.”

He brings their hands up under the fading sunlight and verdant eyes shift to look at their intertwined fingers.“You know already that I am part Almyran. And I told you before I left that I had some...royal connections -”

“I believe you described them as ‘insignificant’.” As usual, her memory and mind are as sharp as her sword and he knows that he cannot weasel his way out of this situation.

“Haha... did I say that? I mean, even though technically I was the crown Prince, it’s not like I was guaranteed the throne. Almyrian traditions are a bit different than here in Fodlan.”

He’s half expecting her to throw another quip back at him about another one of the ways he’s botched this whole thing up, but to his surprise, she merely stares at him with those unwavering green eyes and nods for him to continue.

It’s now or never. He may not have been able to be completely truthful with her before, but now those obligations and promises that veiled his truths no longer bind him.

So he tells her. He tells her about his mother and how she made him promise to keep his identity a secret. He tells her about his promise to his father that he would return home to put his name in the running for the throne when it was time for his father to step down. He tells her about the fights and trials that he had to go through to beat out all the other contenders to prove his strength and abilities as a leader and King. And finally, he tells her of how he took the title of King of Almyra and how it took several weeks for him to get everything under control, only to get intelligence that Those Who Slither in the Dark were plotting one last stand, and how he barely had time to muster his army and march at full speed to make it to her side in time.

When he is finished, Byleth is silent and for a moment, he fears that perhaps it is all too much for her. There is a nasty voice in his heart of hearts, quiet though it may be, that whispers that maybe she has decided that she no longer wants to be with him because how can she trust a man whose real name she didn’t even know?

When he finally musters enough courage to meet her eyes again, his heart does a funny little flop in his chest and the back of his eyes burn with the familiar sting of tears.

Byleth may not be a woman of many words, but the firm squeeze of his hand and steady, soft gaze says everything he needs to know.

I understand. And I love you.

He wheezes out a chuckle and brings her hand to his lips, kissing the digits almost reverently. “I wanted to tell you before I proposed to you, but I needed to honor the promises I made to Mother and Baba. Trust me when I say the first thing I did when I went home was ask them to relieve me of those burdens.”

“Did...did they ask why?” Her voice is hesitant, even as the question leaves her tongue.

Goddess, just once he would like to be able to pull the wool over her eyes, but as usual, Teach is sharp on the uptake and Claude really cannot get anything by her.

He reaches up to finger the emerald ring hanging from a silver chain around her neck, dragging out the silence as long as possible before giving the answer he knows she is dreading.

“I maaaay have told them that I had a certain special someone in mind that I wanted to introduce them to...” His sentence trails off into laughter as he watches the horror creep into his beloved’s expression.

Byleth Eisner. The Ashen Demon. The first leader of the United Kingdom of Fodlan. The Hero of Fodlan.

Claude finds it hilarious that the woman he loves can carry such daunting titles and face an army head on with no fear, but is absolutely terrified of the idea of meeting her future in-laws.

“Khalid-” he likes the way his real name sounds coming from her lips, even if it is a horrified gasp. “-I can’t. I don’t even know what to do! I’m not a noble and I don’t know anything about etiquette on meeting royalty from a foreign country, much less your parents.”

“Aww, don’t worry Teach! You’ll be perfectly fine, just like when you joined the Alliance Round Table for the first time.” He winks at her, biting his cheek to stop the laughter that is threatening to bubble over.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I also have a country to run. One that you so gladly dumped on my lap before escaping across Fodlan’s Throat.”

She must be desperate now if she is willing to hide behind her duties.

“Not to fret, my dear.” He leans over to place a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, flashing her his signature wink and grin afterwards. “I’ve already cleared it with Seteth. After all, it was the stress from the non stop work that caused you to fall ill in the first place, right? I simply proposed that you could take a month or two off from your duties to relax and recover from your injuries-”

“-I have no injuries-”

“-and maybe come back with me to Almyra for a little vacation.”

While she doesn’t officially reject his proposition, he does receive her reluctant acceptance in the form of several pillows being chucked unceremoniously at his head.

XxXxXxXxX

I’M TERRIBLE AT WRITING ENDINGS. I promise I’ll come back later to fix this one up too.

Hope you all liked chapter 2!!

Note: I did NOT get this out before midnight. It is currently 1:56AM.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

#Claudeleth #claude von riegan #Byleth eisner #claude x byleth #F!byleth #my writing #popo writes #fanfiction #fire emblem #3 houses #fire emblem 3 houses #FE3H #post cannon #Post S rank support

55 notes · View notes

fanfoolishness · 4 years

Text

A Legacy (Cadash + Solas, DAI)

(I wanted to write Josie x Cadash. Or Varricfic. Instead, this musing with my new Cadash and Solas came out. Oh well! 1200 words, gen, set when first visiting Crestwood.)

***

Chara Cadash hissed, clapping a palm over the wound in her bicep. She let out a long breath between clenched teeth. The sound of waterfalls drowned out her exhalation, and she hoped, for a moment, that she was safe.

Until Solas approached, his face set in that curious mix of concern and disinterest she had come to define him by.

She sighed, settling back on her haunches besides the campfire. “I’m taking first watch tonight, remember, Solas? You’re allowed to take some rest for yourself. Varric and Blackwall are already asleep.”

He knelt beside her, keeping a respectful distance. “I am aware, Inquisitor.”

“So what brings you from your rest?” She glanced up at the stone-worked harts flanking the waterfalls, the granite glistening from the recent rain. It was good work. Solid. “I would have thought you’d like to see the Fade from here. These monuments must mean something.”

Solas gave her a small smile, one that failed to reach his eyes. “They mean many things. But I cannot sleep when I find my mind uneasy. You’re wounded, Inquisitor.”

“Is that so,” she attempted. Solas merely arched one thin brow at her, and she acquiesced. “All right, then. It’s nothing serious.” The eyebrow arched ever higher. “It’s… just a wyvern bite.”

Solas nodded. “I suspected as much. You do know that wyvern venom can cause permanent damage, I suppose?”

Chara rolled up her sleeve swiftly, her stomach clenching. The wound in her arm already looked nasty, festering with a greenish cast to the surrounding skin. Her stomach swooped. “Well, that’s a fucking lovely surprise, isn’t it? I -- I’d thought it could wait ‘til tomorrow --”

“It should not,” he said. “May I?” He extended a pale hand toward her, palm up.

“We’re out of potions,” said Chara swiftly. “I didn’t want to cause a fuss.”

“Healing was never my greatest talent,” said Solas, fixing his gaze on her wound. “But I do have some small skill in this area. It would not do for you to lose an arm from something as mundane as an untreated wyvern bite.”

She hesitated, staring into his blank face. She had met many people in her time, some honest, some pretending, some believing they were honest but telling lies all the same. Something about Solas often left her feeling odd, unsettled. His fury about the recruitment of the templars had not helped her perception. And yet --

She extended her arm to him. He took it by the wrist, his touch sure but gentle, respectful. Magic slowly swelled around his grip, an aura that tingled through her hand, wrist, forearm, into the bite itself. It was warm but muted, sending soft sparks through flesh and vein.

She looked away. This was not for her: magic was a thing she had learned early on was for humans, elves, Qunari. She knew it didn’t stick the way it did for the other races; knew the mages had to work harder, cleverer, sneakier for their spells to take on dwarves. She didn’t like to make it more difficult for them by staring.

“Very well,” she said stiffly, gazing up at the twin harts. She cast about for something to discuss, something besides the inherent awkwardness of accepting healing from a mage who despised her. “It’s beautiful stonework, isn’t it?”

Solas lifted his gaze from her wound, eyes sliding over the harts amidst the waterfalls. “Mhm.”

“What does it mean to your people?”

A flinch, faint, felt through the grip he maintained on her arm. She gazed at him, perplexed. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “No. It’s quite all right. But I am not Dalish, Inquisitor, and these were certainly made by Dalish elves.”

“Forgive me,” said Chara. “I’m afraid I never learned much of the elves in the Marches. The city elves had their homes and their trees, but they never made…” She gestured with her good arm. “These meant a great deal, once. You don’t build something to withstand the elements for centuries if it’s meaningless.”

“I expect not,” he said. His magic rustled along her skin, her muscle, veins and nerves. She swallowed, feeling it encase her arm, trying to find the way in. Normally she enjoyed the way magic seemed to slide off of her in battle, but healing magic doing the same had been a great disappointment.

“Do you wonder what they will find of us, centuries on?” Chara asked. Stars twinkled above the stone harts in the deepening twilight. She chuckled. “Look at me. I’ve gone and said us. Perhaps Inquisitor is starting to sound familiar.” She let out a long sigh, her arm aching. “I don’t care for it, if I’m to be honest.”

Solas raised his gaze from her wound. “A curious thing for a leader to say.”

“Perhaps,” said Chara. “Then again, it isn’t as if I intended any of this.” She bowed her head. “Thank you, Solas.”

“Your gratitude is appreciated, Inquisitor, but your healing is still in progress.”

“I know,” she said. She flexed her palm and fingers into a clumsy fist. The venom had worked its way deep into her arm, much deeper than she had hoped. The clean sensation of Solas’ healing buzzed beneath the numbness, growing stronger by the moment, and she allowed herself relief. “But I appreciate your healing someone you despise.”

The magic slowly strengthened along the length of her arm, her muscles nearly burning with it. Solas’ grip on her wrist tightened slightly.

“Inq--”

“You disagreed with me about the templars,” said Chara. “I understand. I thought magic gone awry required a certain solution. You felt differently.” She pulled her arm back from him, only a mild ache still present in her bicep. Her hand tightened into a fist, then relaxed, a faint tremor running through the fingers.

“Your dexterity should return within the day,” said Solas, ignoring her last. “You are welcome.” He inclined his head towards hers in something like a shortened bow, then got to his feet.

“Solas,” she said sharply. He turned back to her, tension keen in the set of his shoulders.

“Yes?”

“The harts beneath the moonlight,” she said, pointing with her healed arm. It shivered only slightly, a great improvement. He looked to follow her outstretched fingers.

Beneath the parted clouds, the moonlight danced upon the harts, hidden moonstone shimmering deep in their fine-carved eyes. Splendid opalescent shimmers flashed in blue and white, a calculated choreography illuminating the silent grove.

Chara studied the patterns of their shining eyes, certainty thrumming within her. “This was carved with a harvest moon in mind,” she said. “The angle of the light -- it wouldn’t create a luminescence with a normal full moon, not with how deep-set the eyes have been carved. It’s inspired work. Meant to last for many, many seasons.”

Beside her, Solas stood tall and still, hands loosely clasped behind him, eyes bright in the moonlight. “A legacy,” he murmured.

“Yes,” said Chara. “They were meant to be seen. The question is, what were they meant to say?”

Solas’s lips curled up, a small, subtle motion, and this time, the lines at his eyes narrowed in a genuine smile. “They speak a promise, Inquisitor.”

“A promise for what?” she asked. The moonlight sparkled on the surface of the pond, sparkled deep in the harts’ gray eyes.

“For another day.”

#solas #cadash #dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #da:i #chara cadash

12 notes · View notes

space-blue · 4 years

Text

The Living Night

Ah, what an unhappy little human. And yet, the first of your ilk to fall into my coils and not thrash and plead and threaten.

The world all around me is an intelligent sea of ink, it shimmers dark on black, encompassing me, like I was swallowed entire. It moves in great, endless expanses, warm flesh rubbing against my sweating skin. And its mind speaks to mine.

Such quiet resignation is so very uncommon...

So is the ability of expressing thoughts and feelings through emphatic touch. What are you?

Through the myriads of dragon species, emphatic touch is a talent shared only by some Lóngs, all the studied Great Worms, and a few Minor Worms. Our underground location disqualifies Lóngs, and the infinity slithering all around me is no minor-anything.

What do you want from me? Since when do Worms play with their prey?

Prey? You're the one who fell on me! Why are you here, little thing? Have you come to die?

What a good question.

I remember putting my scalpel down, leaving my tent, the camp, walking into darkness, the night becoming a blank–my whole life a blank–waiting for it to end, for an escarpment to engulf me, or a red-cliff Raptorid to sling out of the shadows, snapping my neck before I even heard my death coming. Falling down a pit only to bounce off a bigger dragon wasn't any sort of deal breaker.

But the living night around me shows no teeth.

Everywhere I reach and everywhere I turn my face, the Great Worm meets my senses. It feels like movement, heat and complete thoughts. It smells like hot scales and dust.

Speak up, human. You're normally such a loud bunch, always banging and clanking, under the furor of your chattering.

I snort and share vivid memories of Blue Harpies and Banshees plunging over encamped soldiers, their deaf riders pushing them to tear the air with their deadly blasts of sound. I picture the soil erupting, tents flying off, human and dragon ears clotting with blood.

A quiver courses through the silky scales I can feel if not quite see, carrying hints of interest.

Yes, yes some of us are loud. Just not your kind of loud. Besides, bred by humans for generations, those are estranged cousins now. Mindless creatures used as pawns in your petty wars.

Anger bursts in me, a vein of bitterness sputtering my emotions before I can gather my thoughts. My Maia wasn't mindless!

Again comes the quiver, sending my whole world shuddering.

Ah yes, now you grow loud, now your presence manifests.

But my feelings drain, like a dark sludge oozing out of my eyes. My sobs break the closed in silence, mate sounds absorbed by fathoms of dragon flesh. My mind is probed with the Worm's curiosity and shapeless questions.

Show me.

Maia was a grey nurse, a specie of Lóng dragon whose breath has euphoric and anaesthetic properties, and known for their patient nature. She wore her specie's name to a T, at my side since Vet school, she helped me nurse back to health every single patient that ever came under our care. She often had the tip of her tail coiled around some part of me, like all dragons with emphatic touch, and our banter was private. She was smart, helpful, she had her own dreams and drives, and she loved me in ways I didn't even deserve. She hated the war as much as I did! She was my everything...

As a vet I specialised in Lóngs and Worms, fascinated as I am by the intricacies of their innards–the organic equivalent of the finest clockwork, allowing flight without wings. The army sought me out of renown, and I believed I could make a difference. But they didn't want me to save Lóngs and Worms from the war, they wanted me to make them last longer for it. They wanted me to extend their suffering. To delay their death.

I share with the Worm the sight of a hundred ravaged human faces, pink eyes lost in sunken orbits, lacklustre, unkept hair, tear tracks seemingly tattooed down angled cheeks. The empty husk of one who lost their dragon half: best friend, partner, family. A look I recognize as my own, a picture framed inside my cracked mirror, the same despaired anguish, ever since Maia died on our own field operating table, succumbing to wounds from a wyvern Death-Rattles sent to wreck havoc in the back lines.

I see again how in her last weeks her rich mane had grown dull along her back, her tendrils drooped and her scales coarsened. I hear the echoing whispers of her idea, suggestions of her slight body picking me up in her delicate paws and flying off, off and far away. Deserting to a new, better life.

Fat dactyl pads seize me, and my trembling hands touch the cold hardness of claws. Despite their generous size, there is no doubt the limb is vestigial. So a Coatl or Ryu worm, but the sheer magnitude... It crushes me with a sense of my own trivial dimensions. I see myself, through the ripples of emphatic touch, as this dragon sees me, a 'little human', easily held in three digits with room to spare.

All this rage won't change how things are. Meet my own dead, see my own dried rivers, barren valleys, crumpled tunnels and pillaged nests. We all touch that grief, little one. All things die because all things change. Embracing it or dying of it are but two different ways of changing in turn.

I just want it to make some sort of sense. That it hasn't all been for nothing.

What sense can you make of your short life, now, or even on the day you die? What a human way of thinking, pointless and painful! There is no sense, just a time for it all to happen, and a moment at which it ends. I know you understand this.

I laugh bitterly.

Listening to you, it's like I've fallen into my own soul!

Is it how I feel to you? Familiar? Not frightening?

Oh don't worry. The familiar can be plenty terrifying.

A hot breeze flies in my face, a snort of mirth, laced with complacency.

Do you think this is some great simile? That because you find meaning in me, I will find less of a meal in you?

A meal? I idly wonder how many seconds would eating me delay such a Worm's hunger. I'd be more like a tiny amuse-bouche. A single salted peanut. Why bother?

All this talk of eating me and yet you keep asking questions! What do you really want with me? What are you? You must be a Great Worm.

As sullen silence meet my questions, I mentally flip through the countless books I have memorised in years of study, filled with diagrams, photographs, etchings, all annotated with the secrets of draconic anatomy. Lists of species, prints of the great tree branch of the order of Draconeans.

Where are you in there? What kind of Worm are you? Why did I not study you? Even crested drakes were dissected.

I'm lifted through the air, and above I can glimpse a spray of stars, the entrance through which I must have fallen. Under their faint light, the black coils of the dragon spring into relief. As I twist around to make sense of what I see, two immense orbs open before me. The pupils are black, ellipsoidal moons in full eclipse before blue suns; the irises so shot with bioluminescent filigrees, they light up the entire face, revealing a distinctively long snoot, wide feline maws, high ridged nasal bones, and...

Oh. Oh.

"An Ouroboros" I whisper in a windy breath, the last to ever leave my throat, it seems, for wonder sits like a mountain on my chest.

Ouroboros, greatest of the Coatl Worms, never domesticated nor even trapped. Rumored to reach immense length, yet never measured. They are written about, sometimes described and always approximated, by some flushed, star-blessed scientist or unsuspecting watcher. Their size are matched only by their stealthiness.

The emphatic link between this mystical dragons and my humble self buzzes with confusion and roiling thoughts. I clear my mind. There is only one thing I can express, that is true to what I face.

You are so very beautiful.

Pleasure courses through us, rippling waves of complex emotions intermingling, and something hardening, a sort of resolve.

I was preparing to leave, when you stumbled upon my cave. There is nothing here anymore, for you or I, little thing. No matter that pain is part of life, courting it is no way of living. Come. I see the regrets eating at your mind, your love for our kind. I will take you where your dragon wanted you, somewhere far away, where there is hope still of a better life.

Yes. Good.

And we soar.

~~ December 2016 – Theme : Dragons

#original work #original writing #competition #fantasy #dragons

1 note · View note

the-roanoke-society · 4 years

Text

things left unsaid, spoken.

written as a quick gift for @missredherring to celebrate her recovery! grace & choice-flavored. hints at pure catastrophe but not graphically described.

vida wasn’t used to being called upon so urgently, and especially not silently.

but if she was able to hear diana’s voice in her mind so clearly, then—

she doesn’t want everyone to hear.

so. vida walked, briskly, until she found herself walking down basement stairs and, and… there they were.

seraphim, on all fours. lilith, with her arms around her chest cavity, as if she was holding her up.

seraphim was weeping, still struggling, trying to climb back into a gate that wasn’t even switched on anymore.

vida faltered, her steps freezing by the large black boxes by which sat wyvern and drake, who looked equally mystified. and uncomfortable.

“vida!” it was as if lilith had finally realized that she was there. “will you—give me one moment please?”

“yes—yes of course.”

she watch lilith lean down, watch her murmur into seraphim’s ear. later, she’d learn what she said.

(“… vida is here. would you like to go with her?” “let me go back—please, let me go back, i know i can help, i can stop it, pleasepleaseplease—“ “morgan. you can’t go back. that world is lost. … there is nothing more you can do.” “…” “… go with vida.” “… okay.”)

it was strange, watching the society’s executive head cradling an equally competent senior agent as she sort of shapeshifed, switching between a woman clawing her way across the floor to someone wholly and completely defeated.

seraphim’s eyes stayed on the floor, even as she stood. she didn’t meet the gaze of anyone staring at her. “vida! m—“ lilith opened her mouth, as if she meant to say something else. but she swallowed it.

no one knew yet.

“—will you please be a darling and take seraphim to the archives with you?” her tone changed. equal parts gentle, firm—and something else. something vida couldn’t quite put her finger on. “i think she may need the distraction. and she has an eye for details. she may be able to help you.”

“… morgan?”

seraphim seemed to break, if only for a few seconds, at the sound of her own name. and she nodded, like yes, yes, i’m here, i am listening, please don’t ask me to lift my head, please, please don’t—

“… would you like to come with me downstairs?”

and seraphim wiped at her face with one sleeve, and nodded.

“all right. take my arm, let’s go—“

she couldn’t help but think of comforting a crying child. the way that she didn’t lift her head, the way she couldn’t seem to stop crying, even if she did so silently. the entire way to the archives. her palm was trembling as it held on to her elbow.

but once they got into the actual archives—one part storage facility, one part library, one part artifact collection—she’d calmed down enough to take instruction.

“all we’re doing is reorganizing the older files. everything’s been tagged—see? right here? we’re organizing everything by year. before they were organized by the handle that originally filled them out and that’s just not practical anymore. you mind if i sit on the floor? no? … excellent. you’re free to do so as well. there’s a lot to go through. just make stacks by decades as you can, and i can finish putting everything into new files later, okay? … okay. thank you, morgan.”

she opened her mouth to try, to her credit. she did try to say something. but no sound came. she just bit down on her lip, new tears forming, and turned away.

for a while, they worked in a comfortable silence. multiple times vida would look up to the sight of seraphim’s dried tear tracks on her face, replaced by awe, as she got distracted by the file logs in her hands. something told the scribe this was her first time reading more than a few of these files, these parts of the society’s history.

but then—“… vida?”

“yes, darling?” it rolled off her tongue. easy as breathing. she knew seraphim. enough to know she didn’t mind terms of endearment. hopefully just as kind as what—what was his name? hamish. his codename? merlin—was calling her.

“… do you love lilith?”

that stopped her.

not cold, exactly. loyalty was expecting in organizations like this, and seraphim—she just sounded so exhausted. she didn’t mean it a malicious manner. she could tell. but seraphim was sitting cross-legged, two files in each hand, looking at her with honest, hazel eyes.

so she answered in kind: “i do. … very much.”

seraphim sniffed. “like—like love lilith?”

but again—there was no ulterior motive she could detect. granted, vida may not have been able to read people as well as lilith. but…

her eyes are swollen. look, the skin beneath them is all pink. maybe i should see where rae and lauren are, they can always cheer her up. i wonder what happened downstairs.

but she felt her throat tighten as she answered, laughing, even: “yes. i do. i love her.”

“so that means you’d do anything to help her, if she was in trouble, right?” seraphim swallowed.

“of course.”

something—wasn’t right. vida stood, walking closer to the exorcist, who stayed sitting. she’d laid the files across her lap.

“what—what if—“ seraphim’s face crumpled and she turned away from her. she coughed, and then continued: “—what if it wasn’t enough? what—what if she died anyway? what if something happened even if you did everything you could?” as she kept speaking, her voice became more and more broken.

as did vida’s heart.

she didn’t have the nerve to ask what brought all this up, not anymore. where exactly seraphim had gone, or what had happened.

so she did the next thing she thought of—which was embracing her.

she wasn’t surprised when seraphim turned in her arms, burying her face into her shoulder. she was shaking so badly that for a split second she thought maybe she was having the precursor to a seizure.

she rubbed a comforting hand up and down her spine. “… then i would think of her in the hereafter. and i would understand that she herself understood. and i would find peace in that.” she chose her words carefully—but truthfully. it wasn’t a situation she ever wanted to face, or even consider too much.

but—this wasn’t about her. not then. “—morgan. i won’t ask who you lost today. but i promise you, that if you tried your best? they know. they went somewhere where that knowledge has been granted them. they know.”

“… you promise?” came an answering sob. what on earth could have happened to break her this badly?

“i promise.”

seraphim’s arms tightened around her. vida felt a hand go to cover her mouth and nose.

she couldn’t tell you how long it was until they separated. “hey, uh—“ seraphim began. her arms were still unsteady, as she tried to wipe the tears from her face. “—would it be all right if i called merlin? for a second? i’ll come right back, i still have this section to sort—“

“actually, i have a better idea,” vida interrupted, smiling gently. “go call merlin. and then go get something to eat. and then take a hot bath.”

seraphim opened her mouth once, as if she was going to argue—then just sighed, as she stood. she took careful steps around the piles of paper on the floor.

but as soon as she disappeared around the corner, she popped back: “—so y’all have gone on dates?”

vida laughed. “yes.”

“okay.”

and she heard her footsteps retreating, and then coming back. “do you kiss her?”

“yes. morgan.”

“okay. cool. i know it’s not my business, but. i just wanted to make sure.”

again: footsteps going away, then footsteps coming back. “… vida?”

“yes."

“is lilith a good kisser?”

“the best, actually.”

“…. i knew it.”

“why, want to see for yourself?”

“nah, but like—“ seraphim pursed her lips together. some familiar characteristics leaking back into her face. it was like seeing a lamp come on.

she’ll be all right.

“i just knew.” and she grinned. “… you’re lucky. … and i promise i won’t tell. … so long as you promise to not tell people that i was—“ she just gestured to her face. pink, raw, swollen. “—like this.”

vida lifted her eyebrows. “i promise. now, please—go talk to hamish. okay?”

seraphim tapped her fingertips against the wood—and sighed. “okay… okay. thanks, vida. i’ll see you later?”

“of course.”

vida listened as—finally—she could hear the agent leaving the archives.

and as she went about looking at the stacks that seraphim had made, she hummed to herself, an old song, that made her think about one specific sunset in one specific place.

i love you baby, and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby, to warm the lonely night, i love you baby…

#the scribe #lilith #grace & choice #agent seraphim #hymns & holograms #the washington avenue project

2 notes · View notes

randomnameless · 5 years

Text

BL run, Hubbie’s dead and Edel ascended to a winged... thing, being. It looks weird and made me think about a creepy angel and a weird... horror thing.

Is she still going on a “Eww dragons” leitmotiv to continue the war ?

I don’t understand why all those claims of “Rhea created a church to venerate her mother” are still around, given how Seteth and Flayn’s mom met in a church way before Seiros became a saint and the Church of Seiros was established.

So either the previous god worshipped in those churches was Jesus of Arkansas, or it was Sothis herself (because those puny humans worship higher beings who shared their technology/magic with them). We don’t have any clue about another deity-like being in Fodlan, so I suppose Sothis was the one venerated in this pre-Seiros church.

Anyways... I forgot but Linhardt died in the Manu prologue, i didn’t feel a thing as exposed earlier because all of the BE students can choose to rebel (as seen in SS) but they don’t.

Here, Petra died and there’s one thing I don’t understand with her : she’s most likely aware that she’s a political hostage, but she loves her country and wants to be a good ruler.

So... she must side with Edel as her vassal, but then, in SS, she doesn’t because she doesn’t agree with the Empire’s “eww dragon” propaganda and their imperialistic means/goals.

But in CF, and here, I felt as if Petra endorsed 100% Edel’s continental war plan which is, uh, weird because :

- her own country was subjugated, her parents died due to the war and she’s an hostage

- she’s willing to let the same thing happen to the other states in Fodlan? (jokes on her though, since the Kingdom of faerghus never existed, Dimitri’s cousin (his uncle’s child?) won’t be used as a hostage but as wyvern food)

The “but if she sides with us Briggid will be attacked” argument doesn’t stand because when she does, Hubbie comes in quite late (only in a paralogue) to draft the Briggid guys into the Imperial forces - they weren’t enroled in the imperial forces during the timeskip ? 5 fucking years? even wonder france managed to draft our ultra-marine randoms earlier during WW1 so if wonder france can do it everyone can

Ultimately Petra makes her last stand in Enbarr to protect the capital, while supporting Edel’s goals so off she goes. Gilbert (lel) killed her with his Hauteclaire (on that point, the Archanea Regalia is noted to have been used in the War of Heroes - i know it’s an easter egg, but it’s funny).

I didn’t understand if House Varley’s reinforcments were the winged beasts, the assassins or the ninjas... It doesn’t really matter, because bar the ninjas, those reinforcements are really creepy! What is going on in House Varley?!

Note that Bernie’s dad, who’s hated in a good part of the fandom, used to be the minister of religion or something like that, but he opposed Edel and was placed under house arrest, when Bernie’s mom supports Edel’s regime.

Bernie’s worried about hurting her mom (if they fight in Enbarr she might be a casualty) but... of course the minister of religion would be opposed to the war against the church - and given how Edel uses beasts as a staple of her army - who on Naga can support the war? Bernie’s mom most likely doesn’t know what those beasts are (her friendly neighbour Stacey?) but if “eww dragons” is a reason enough to fight against the church, “eww monsters” should be a reason enough to get the fuck out of here.

Hubert’s last lines were... disappointing. I grew fond of him in CF because he was playable, but, again double standard, i can’t understand why Catherine “the zealot” receives so much flak for being so devoted to her lord when Hubert’s escaping the wave of flak scot-free.

I know Hubert is more then Edel’s evil chancelor sidekick, just like Catherine is more than Rhea’s matches but jeez

Speaking of Catherine, BL route doesn’t explore her character more than SS did, there’s just this tidbit with her still alive and kickin’ dad and that’s it...

Interesting to note though, that contrary to the Silver Snow version of this chapter, here we don’t have to save random civilians. So Edel must have evacuated them earlier (but then we’ve seen Claude do it so why couldn’t they spare a line for Edel?) or the “kill/use civilians as meatshield” is exclusive to the Black Eagles route.

Dimitri went to talk to Edel, it went nowhere but the grudge Edel has against the Church and the Goddess who didn’t answer her prayers when she needed them wasn’t tackled on the other routes.

To Edel, she wasn’t strong to begin with, she started off weak and became strong. To Dimitri, you can’t become strong by trampling the weak like Edel does.

The line about Dimitri not understanding what the commoners want made me smile, not because he lived with them during his exile years, but because the same argument can be opposed to Edel, and if Dorothea is the sole representative of “The Commoners” then it sucks for them :p also Edel can’t understand what the commoners want since they turned into biological monsters...

That convo would have been better if it happened before the time-skip and before Flamey’s stuff, but it didn’t.

Ultimately I think I got the goal of that converstation, if Edel talked or had been more open with Dimitri about her issues/problems, then they could have worked together. OTOH, even in the pre-timeskip, Edel already wrote him as irrelevant and was dead-set on her goal so it wasn’t possible.

The only time-frame where I can see the two of them working together would be before Edel returns to the Empire, but that would require rewritting the plot way too much (if they told nuncle Arry to fig off and if Edel remained in the Kingdom? but then if Lambert allowed this it would be seen as kidnapping a foreign heir and Ionus would have started a war, I guess.)

Time to kill Myson (I wonder if the FE16 verion of Hel summons illusions of naked women like FE5) and end this route.

#FE16 #blue lions #fire emblem three houses #Edel no #Dimitri no #seriously what were those churches for if not to worship Sothis before Nemesis' whacky adventure?#Edel is more interesting in BL than she was in both of the BE routes #lol #i want to find her fascinating #but otoh there are those things like persecuting the randoms still practicing their faith #it's again trampling the weak for? not becoming strong because you already are strong #she thinks religion weakens people? or at least Rhea's religion?#i think that Edel's all about reliance on another being is for the weak/sucks #but Dimitri says that people must rely on each other to become strong #and yet Edel relies on her Uncle so the point doesnt stand...#I don't understand Edel at all #:'(

12 notes · View notes

ren-c-leyn · 5 years

Text

The Lost Reflections

Been a while since I’ve written a story for the blog, and my drafts are slowing getting overrun by awesome prompts I’ve been saving for short stories, so I figured I’d make another fusion story. This one is inspired by this prompt by @humdrummoloch, these 1,2 prompts by @givethispromptatry, and all of these 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 awesome prompts by @thependragonwritersguild

A few warnings: This is another heavy angst piece. There is death mentioned, there is blood and injury, there is a little swearing too.

Once, the world had been beautiful and bright, full of wonder and color. It had rushed with different sounds and tasted of freedom.

That had been true once.

It wasn’t anymore, not for us, anyways. I think we were finally understand what the mad druid mean when she told us after you lose everything good in your life, all you can do is laugh. Laugh because you somehow managed to die along the way, but can’t remember where. Only, we weren’t laughing like she was.

We sat alone at the round table in the center of the guild house, a single flickering candle illuminating the silence night between us. All of the other seats were empty, seats that should have been full. It’s not that we had nowhere else to go. It’s that we had nowhere else we wanted to belong.

Only, there wasn’t anything to belong to here anymore.

“I should have been there. I should have protected them,” she said quietly, dull green eyes staring down at her gloved hands.

“It wouldn’t have done any good. You would have died with us,” I answered, picking at the bloodied bandages on my arm again, trying not to think about it.

“How... did it happen?” she asked after a moment.

Silence fell thickly between us before I sighed.

“The information was bad. It wasn’t a forest wyvern, like we thought, it was a fucking green dragon.” my voice broke and my eyes stung, but I swallowed it back and took in a deep breath. “It tangled us in the wood, twisting the trees somehow. I-I remember hearing the bark cracking behind us. We looked back and then the next thing we knew, there was that horrible snarl and an intense heat. Clouds of fire lingered above us as we dove into the dirt. It didn’t help, though, the trees twisted to it’s will and started bearing down on us as well.”

I had to stop, the memories and sensation of nearly burning alive becoming overwhelming. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t speak. She waited patiently, staring at me with misted eyes. A slow breath came into my lungs as I told myself they were her friends too, she deserved to know how they were lost. The bandage pulled against my skin as I picked at it again.

“That’s how Fern and Dirk died. The trees. Branches like spears.” I held up my arm. “That’s what did this too.” I pulled it back to me and fiddled with the bandages some more, not caring if they loosened. “Ayrn is the one that figured out the dragon was controlling them. Elf senses or whatever. He and I charged it, with Vayla using her magic. I remember hitting it it hard with my sword.... It hurt, my hand. Felt like a bull rammed into my palm. The sword was broken, but the fragments still hovered in the air, just above the hilt. At least, it looked like it at the time. Then, there was pain and screams. I blacked out for a moment, and only came too when.... when....”

“When what?” she asked, voice breaking as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

It took me a few moments to finally answer. My hand was clinging to the bandages like my life depended on it.

“Vayla was laying next to me, and there was blood everywhere. We were out of the grove, I don’t know how. I could still hear the cracking bark and growling, but couldn’t see anything. She looked me in the eyes, smiled, and said ‘Please,’ Her voice was almost soundless, whispered directly into my ear. ‘Please think of me. Remember all of us when we have gone.’ I promised, and she closed her eyes, her breathing stopped, and that’s... that’s when you found me, with the trees getting ready to end me as well.”

We sat in silence until the candle burned out and dawn began to spill in through the windows. An entire night had passed, and even with sunlight surrounding us, it felt no brighter.

“You did your best,” she said, voice almost as silent as Vayla’s had been at the end.

I closed my eyes.

“We did our best.”

She went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest. The cracked ribs and holes in my arm keeping my body awake, the holes in my heart and repeating memories keeping my mind restlessly. Eventually, I forced myself out of the chair and back into the woods, retracing our favorite paths out to the meadow.

On the way, I found myself pausing, staring at one of the trees. Something the mad druid said once came back to me. ‘Every leaf held the life of a person that died here.’ Did that mean they were watching? That they lived on through the trees? I had no idea, no way of finding out, or ever knowing.

In the meadow was the familiar figure of the druid, antlers woven into her white hair, brown eyes open far too wide for an elf, movements too fast for someone at peace, senses too sharp for one who had never faced danger. Even now, picking flowers, she acted as if she was standing in the middle of a battle, eyes and ears flickering, straining to catch movement.

“You walk like one of the dead,” she called. “No sleep, no healing, and then you really will do more than walk like them.”

“If I could sleep, I would be.”

She said nothing, just kept picking at the primroses and a few other flowers whose names I couldn’t quite recall.

“What happened to you?”

“Something very much like what happened to you. Only it wasn’t a dragon that did my party in, it was an ancient guardian I pissed off by hunting in it’s domain.”

I opened my mouth to say I was sorry, but I already knew it would be of no help. A moment of silence passed us by, her still gathering plants with her back to me.

“Is that why you do it then? Fight monsters by yourself? Heal other adventurers, even if we call you crazy?”

She paused and then looked back at me.

“Partly, but not mostly.”

“Then, why mostly?”

She smiled sadly.

“I suppose I need someone to tell me I’m doing the right thing. Someone to tell me that their lives weren’t wasted when they tried to protect me.”

I met her dark eyes and gave her my best smile.

“Well, we would have been dead at least a dozen times before now if you hadn’t been here, so I think you are doing the right thing. You’re not wasting their lives.”

She eyed me for a moment before giving a single nod and then returned to her gathering.

“Go sleep. I don’t save undead, I kill them until they stay dead.”

“I’ll try,” I replied before shuffling back towards the old guild house.

I didn’t go immediately back, though. Instead, I stopped on the bridge between it and the house for a while back.The bridge was built over a reflecting pond. And when I looked into it, I saw another man looking back at me. He was a broken, tattered version of the young, adventurous soul that I had seen yesterday. How sad, I thought, that I’d never be that young man again. Even sadder yet, the faces that had been with him yesterday would never be seen again, reflections never to touch this water again.

#short story #fiction #fantasy #angst #writing #my writing #a story by Ren

20 notes · View notes

yukiwrites · 5 years

Text

Morgan, Comparing

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This one was so much fun to write askdjlkasd Morgan will be the death of those three someday!

Summary: Morgan, now Linfan, has gotten used to travelling with the people from this Valla world, already considering them her companions. Even so, or perhaps because of that, she couldn’t help but feel as though she were meeting some of the same people of Ylisse in this world, but in another form entirely...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

Morgan had already felt at home amidst her newest companions during the war against the invisble-y, purple-y things -- they were something related to something that Azura tried her best to explain at least five times, but it honestly all went over Morgan's head.

Of course, she would most likely understand if she actually applied herself to it; or if her Father were the one to explain it to her, but as it stands, she just wanted to take things on her own pace. She had found her brother and pulled his ear like their Mother wanted, so there would be no problem in enjoying herself for a bit, right?

She was way too excited to be around so many new people and fighting such interesting enemies! All of that alongside her brother and her friends, as well! New and old!

Think about it! A male manakete (although Nowi did mention knowing one or two, but since Morgan had never met them, they didn't exist to her) with short ears and wriggly fingers in dragon form, able to stop a dragon-slaying sword. A water-controling dancer with next to no magical ability who uses the power of a floating pendant to instill her comrades to fight harder on the battlefield.

Not only one but three legendary swords wielded by a grumpier, blonde and royal Frederick, a shorter and hairier version of Walhart and the male manakete! Not to mention a legendary tome and a bow! This world was AMAZING in every sense of the word!

On her way to deliver her daily report to Corrin's tent regarding her patrol of the perimeter, Linfan wore huge grin on her face by just thinking about all of the awesome stuff this world had to offer. Her mind in the clouds, she bumped into something oddly fluffy right at the entrance of Corrin's tent: a... cleavage?

"Whoops! Lady Camilla! Thanks for the save." Linfan giggled after the nohrian princess caught her lest she fell on the ground after their bumping. "Visiting Lord Corrin?"

"You are very welcome, darling," the eldest princess smiled softly, lingering one hand over Linfan's shoulder. "And yes, I am... Though I must admit I am rather worried..." she took her free hand to her cheek, a dark cloud shadowing her brow. "Say... is that the report of your patrol, my dear?"

Oh, I wonder what this nagging feeling is...? Where did i see that dark look before... Linfan squinted at the beautiful princess' face, trying to discern what was it that bothered her.

Noticing how the young woman had once again flew into her own mind while gazing upon herself, Camilla giggled then patted Linfan's shoulder so as to guide her away from Corrin's tent. "My dear, why don't we have this conversation over there? I do not wish for my darling Corrin to be disturbed more than necessary..."

"Huh?" Linfan blinked as she saw the report she had been carrying slipped out of her hands into Camilla's -- smoothly so! How did she DO that? Was she secretly a ninja? Wow, that world had to be the best thing ever! But, wait- "uh, but he asked me to give it to him even if there were nothing out of ordinary-"

Camilla took her index finger to her lips, "that will be our little secret, hm? Dear Corrin has been much too stressed lately and only just now I managed to coax him to take a little nap." She giggled adorably, but her eyes were covered in a dark shadow. "Truly regrettable that I had to resort to a... calming kind of tea for that to happen."

Nagging feeling, nagging feeling, nagging feeling... Morgan couldn't hide her surprised yet scrutinizing expression, her brain working at its full capacity to be able to discern the origin of that insistent prickling at the back of her mind to think about where Lady Camilla was taking her to.

From a nearby corner, Laslow had just about finished helping a maid carry some supplies into a tent -- let us not mention how he was drenched in cold water due to the maid's... vehement refusal of his advances -- and caught a glimpse of Morgan being led through camp by none other than princess Camilla herself.

"Linfan?" He raised one eyebrow, taking it upon himself to tail the unusual duo.

Somehow, the air around Lady Camilla at that moment made the retainer unable to approach as he normally did -- and to think that Morgan was (happily?) chatting with her despite all that only meant that his childhood friend was still as oblivious as always to the world around her. Following from behind tents and barrels, Laslow watched how Camilla never lost her grip on Linfan's shoulder, a somehow uneasy feeling grasping his chest. He felt the visceral urge to go grab Odin immediately, but was afraid to lose sight of the two of them while he did so.

What to do... what to do...

"Oh, they went inside the- huh? The mess hall?" He whispered to himself, popping his head out of the flying banner he had badly concealed himself against. "No, wait, they went into the kitchen attached to it... Must follow!"

"Ugh, creeper, much? What're you doing following people by attempting to hide as lamely as that?" Selena scoffed beside him, as though she had been there the whole time.

"WAUGH!" Laslow jumped out of his skin. "Selena! D-don't scare me like that, I almost- wait, no time to waste, come with me!" He pulled his friend by the arm, tip-toeing as fast as he could towards the mess tent.

"Wh- hey, I didn't agree to-"

"Lady Camilla just took Linfan here!" He whispered-yelled, making a shushing gesture.

Selena slapped one hand over her mouth lest she gasped loudly in surprise. "What does Lady Camilla want with Linfan-"

"Let's find out-" Laslow whispered back, peeking inside the tent.

"What're looking for again, Lady Camilla?" Morgan asked joyfully, scavenging sacks and barrels alike, mostly for the fun of it since she didn't know what the thing Camilla wanted look like.

"It is a pear-shaped, grape-sized vegetable, my dear. You are a treasure for volunteering to help me look for it." Camilla's voice sounded a bit distant for the observing duo right outside, but they could feel the lack of mirth coming from it, which made them shiver.

Linfan frowned slightly, stopping her search to look up in wonder. "Huh? Did I volunteer...?" She searched her memory for the exact time that happened, but then shrugged. "Oh, well! I'm here helping now, and that's what matters! Pear-shaped, grape-sized, got it!"

"Don't go helping people without asking what it's for, you dimwit!" Selena said behind her teeth from outside. "If I remember correctly, that vegetable..."

"... Is used in a lot of soups, yeah." Odin replied, kneeling beside their friends as though he had always been there.

Selena's twintails and the entirety of Laslow's hair went up in surprise, but they managed to only yell inside their minds. "Odin?! Since when-"

"I saw you two sneaking about and thought it'd be fun to join, but then I saw it was about Linfan so I just stayed quiet." He replied with a serious expression, oblivious to the dark air around the nohrian princess right inside. "What's going on?"

Laslow opened his mouth to reply, but Selena slapped it shut for Morgan had started to speak.

"There! Is this it, Lady Camilla? The box was squashed under a big sack; no wonder you couldn't find it!" Linfan raised a medium-sized chest overhead, twirling around to the princess.

Camilla's mood shifted so quickly it was as though the cloud had never been there. "You are a treasure, dear Linfan! That is exactly it!" She smiled gracefully, taking the chest with rather ease from Linfan's hands. "Thank you so much for your help, my dear! Now I can finally cook up an invigorating soup for my darling Corrin. I will beat down his exhaustion by nurturing him in every way possible!"

Realization hit Linfan as strong and sudden as a slap on the face. "AHA!" She unabashedly pointed at Camilla after doing the 'I see' gesture. "That's what's been bothering me all the time! How could I have been so blind?!"

"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" Camilla placed the chest over a nearby crate, tilting her head to the side. Linfan placed her hands akimbo, proud at her discovery.

"That alluring cleavage; carefully cared-for hairstyle, the use of mixtures for the sake of others... And that care for your prince's health and well-being... The dark femininity of Tharja and devotion of Frederick! It's like someone mashed them together, put them on a wyvern and gave them a crown: Ta-da, princess Camilla!"

"F-FATHER?!" Laslow tripped over Odin, falling inside the tent.

"You idi-wahh!" Tangling her limbs on both fallen comrades, Selena rolled atop of them both, making the situation similar to a human rockslide.

"Heehee! What an amusing bunch you four are! Selena, my dear, are you quite alright?" Camilla threw her head back in laughter, extending one hand to help her retainer up. "Are those the characters from a story you three are well-acquainted with, dear?" She asked Linfan without even turning to her.

"Huh? No, they're from bac-mmmph!" She lifted her index to explain, but Odin had managed to tackle his sister in time, slamming her mouth shut with his hand.

"HOW PERCEPTIVE OF MY LADY! HAHA! That it exactly it! No wonder you are the cleverest, most beautiful and adored first princess of Nohr! None could compare! Now, if you’ll excuse us!" He laughed loudly, taking a step towards the exit with each word.

"Hold it, dearies."

Three words out of Camilla's mouth and the entire tent froze over, almost literally.

"Now, you four will help me with this soup, will you not? I need it done before Corrin wakes up from his little nap..."

Odin, Selena and Laslow breathed out in relief. Linfan struggled to speak under her brother's grip. What was that about? She was complimenting Camilla, you know! The beauty and shrewdness of one coupled with the strength and loyalty of the other! The perfect mash!

#morgan #camilla #laslow #selena #fire emblem fates #my writings #odin #yuki's commissions

11 notes · View notes

gascon-en-exil · 5 years

Text

FE16 Black Eagles (Edelgard) Liveblogging

Chapters 15-16. The plot, among other things, explodes.

I was wondering where all the Eagles character paralogues were, and all of sudden come Chapter 15 three of them get dumped on you. Edelgard’s is a fight on the border against Nader and the Almyran remnant. Wyvern riders are unusually overpowered in this game, even as enemies. They’re not a unit type one expects to be so fast. Hubert goes back to the Sealed Forest to save Those Who Slither from their own failed creations. Both of these paralogues play up Hubert’s own talent for slithering in the dark: the first because it’s heavily implied that he poisoned Hilda’s brother so he’d have to rely on the Empire to push back the Almyrans, and the second because he’s been investigating Those Who Slither on the side all the while your army is being strong-armed into doing their bidding.

Petra and Bernadetta’s paralogue meanwhile has been the first map on this route that I haven’t seen before, a heavily forested section of Brigid. Bernadetta’s role there is almost completely random, but it comes together in the end in a way that feels satisfying. The chapter itself on the other hand features a cheap fakeout win condition, thankfully avoidable via Divine Pulse, and another appearance by the OP Catherine.

Playable kills: Flayn and Seteth from the church, Felix and Ingrid from the Lions. Now that the Alliance portion of the story is done I notice that Raphael and Lorenz skipped out on showing up this time, along with Marianne who doesn’t appear in the Lions’ Part 2 either. Actually, I’ve read that she’s the only playable character who doesn’t appear in Part 2 at all unless she’s in your army, with the implication that her depression and/or the dark story surrounding her Crest killed her or drove her to suicide in the timeskip. That’s...something.

I’ve also read that if you don’t recruit Shamir and Alois they show up in Chapter 15 to be killed...and that Manuela and Hanneman only do so on the Lions route in Dimitri’s paralogue for some reason. Weird.

I can confirm that the dark merchant does not sell Dark Seals. He’s only available in the second to last exploration month of Edelgard’s route, so you can’t get much use out of him anyway. Sucks for Hubert, but if I’m understanding correctly how you can buy classes with Renown the next time I use him I can just certify him for dark mage that way and get one seal for dark bishop.

The brevity of this route sticks out more and more the closer I get to the end. Not so much for the story which is moving along at a brisk pace to match Edelgard’s resolve and concrete goal in contrast to Dimitri throwing everyone off with his unresolved personal issues, but for the gameplay. A bunch of my units aren’t going to make it master classes at this rate, and I’m tempted to not even touch Edelgard’s emperor class when it randomly becomes available after Chapter 15 (seriously, her armor just arrives from the capital? Are we timing lord promotions by the speed of parcel delivery now?) because there’s no timing and making her armored is kind of awful.

Story/Character observations

Chapter 15 opens with a bizarre interlude of Byleth coming upon Edelgard in her room at night, and an attempt at humanizing her by...telling us that she draws pictures of Byleth. That’s not even organic Avatar worship, come on. From what I remember her A support is more of the same, so I’m not holding out much hope for her big bi S rank.

Thankfully her two dorky subordinates salvage the character-based charm of this route. Ferdinand pokes a hole in the fourth wall and asks Byleth if they’ve thought about a world in which they chose another house or chose to side with the church, and while I can see the similarities with Conquest constantly dumping on Corrin’s choice this incident is isolated enough that I’m not feeling condescended to. Ferdinand’s A support with Byleth reveals that the first king of Faerghus - you know, the one with the very close *nudge nudge wink wink* friend akin to Felix - had a second very close friend who was just as indispensible but didn’t desire notoriety and so didn’t make it into many history books. Ferdinand compares this to what both he and Byleth are to Edelgard (I imagine this support is phrased very differently if gotten on any other route), but my mind went right to Kris, the shadow Avatar at Marth’s side who got left out of the original game historical accounts. While I believe that Byleth’s ending on Edelgard’s route actually is fairly out of the public eye, in other routes they’re either the archbishop or the ruler of the united continent. Byleth is very much not that type of Avatar who can just disappear at the end because how else could they sleep with the whole cast?

I can’t forget about Hubert either. Apparently he’s the one who gives Those Who Slither their infamously unwieldy name - thanks a lot, Hubie - during his investigations on how to out-evil them. When he’s not doing that he’s engaging in absurdly cute support conversations with Ferdinand where they’re both blushing and exchanging gifts with romantic music in the background. I also noted that they’re one of the couples who get special meal dialogue that evolves along with their supports. See, this is what I mean when I say that M/M and F/F subtext are on completely different playing fields. Dorothea will just come out and ask Manuela if they can live together and forget about finding men, or give Ingrid a ring and joke about owning her, etc. For the guys it’s watching them sputteringly make friendly gestures toward one another while blushing, or make promises to die together, or insist on the other using their given name (but in private!) to indicate that there’s going to be dick touching.

Nader dies during Edelgard’s paralogue. In combination with Judith’s death in Chapter 13 I think this is meant to indicate that this is the one non-Deer route that does not feature a large Almyran invasion after the credits roll. Even if you choose not to kill Claude as I did, without any of his close allies (who are also his parents, in the case of those two?) the implication is that he won’t have the strength to pursue his own dreams of continental conquest. Good on him to outright admit that he has them to Edelgard, though.

Speaking of the game admitting things that otherwise only go implied, let’s talk about those explosions. The Black Eagle Strike Force feints toward Fhirdiad but moves instead to conquer Arianrhod, with Edelgard and Hubert’s target being specifically Cornelia. Cornelia in this route hasn’t betrayed Faerghus to the Empire yet, but according to Arundel she was planning to as a member of Those Who Slither despite lacking their characteristic pallor. Arundel responds by using “pillars of light” - more likely those anachronistic ballistic missiles seen in a church route cutscene - to blast the fortress into oblivion and kill a bunch of people inside.I’m ignoring how petty it seems of Arundel/Thales to nuke a valuable military installation just to get revenge on Edelgard for killing a minion who was going to help Edelgard do what she’s about to do in the last two chapters anyway. No, what fascinates me about this situation is how Edelgard and Hubert immediately spin this for the rest of their army, saying it was Rhea’s doing and using it to motivate the Strike Force to conquer Fhirdiad as quickly as possible. Ever since I got her C support I’ve been curious as to why Edelgard harbors so much personal hatred for the church when Those Who Slither were the ones responsible for torturing her and her siblings for Crest research. Here she’s deliberately making that misdirection, which....doesn’t answer my question at all but does at least demonstrate that the writers are aware of it. How it will all play out, or if this is something that only makes sense when considering information learned from the church and/or Deer routes is yet to be determined.

Looking at this from the perspective of the Strike Force though I can see why they’d need some additional pushing to get invested in how evil Rhea is. She’s done very little so far to follow up on her creepy authoritarian vibes from Part 1, and the scene of her grieving Seteth and Flayn’s deaths only makes her regain some sympathy because of how personally she takes their loss. They have to be saving it all up for the finale. There will have to something to the antagonists we’re about to fight, because so far DImitri in this route has been even more of a non-entity. Of course I know that Chapter 17 brings not one but two flavors of gay tragedy, but in-universe I doubt anyone on the Strike force is squeeing over the Tempest King and his very devoted vassal.

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Spoilers

8 notes · View notes

dlamp-dictator · 5 years

Text

Three Houses Quick Thoughts

Just finished the Black Eagle’s route today and wanted to give my quick thoughts before I finally start drafting that Rambling. Mostly to get some of my thoughts together somewhere accessible so I have something to reference back to when I actually start drafting the danged thing. Don’t worry, I’m not going to spoil anything here... no story spoilers anyway.

Anyway...

The Bad

I was hesitant to say this at first, but now that I finished this game I can confirm that I hate Byleth as a character. They're honestly worse than Corrin to me due to their lack of personality and agency in their own story. The mystery surround their birth and general existence just muddies the whole plot when it tries to make them out as important when I, the player, barely know anything about my own damn character aside from being the father of a great mercenary. I didn’t like their designs either, but I wasn’t a fan of Corrin’s or Robin’s so... I guess their consistent in making player character designs I dislike/am apathetic for.

While I think the system for class advancement is good in the early and mid game, it fell a little flat as I got to the late game. Class mastery really needs to happen a bit faster, at least to a point that I don’t have to actively grind for mastery points. I pity those trying to optimize on hard mode when you don’t have endless auxiliary battles.

On that note, as of 2019 gender-locked classes are dumb and the one good thing Fates did was remove it. Why bright it back? Why deny me War Master/Punch Queen Edelgard? Why deny me a Dark Mage Lysithea? It just makes no sense to me.

Why is there no Dread Fighter class so Petra doesn’t die from a mage glaring her?

Why is there no Kishin Knight class so Bernie be more useful with a bow as a flying archer and have Amaterasu?

Why is there no Malig Knight class so Hubert can ride dragons with his waifu?

Why is Edelgard’s unique class an armored unit with 5 movement when the maps basically require two flying unique to be playable?

Oh yeah, these maps really remind of Echoes given how useless and slow the armor classes are without someone to warp them. These maps really want you to maneuver around them and can get very large. I feel like I’m playing Echoes again for the wrong reasons.

The Good

The soundtrack is great. For all my complaints (and believe me, that’s just the tip of the iceberg), I do love this game’s music. Especially some of these battle tracks. The Edge of Dawn is probably one of my new favorite songs now.

While I didn’t like the class system in the late, the early and mid game is where it shines and I had the most fun testing things out and experimenting. As a casual player, it was fun to mix and match class and see what worked.

The supports were all done very well, some of my favorites came being Edelgard, Caspar, and Hubert. They really fleshed out all of these characters and I’m looking forward to a second playthough and seeing how all the rest are going to play out, especially when I’ll start actively recruiting now.

Speaking of, I like that recruiting classes has a real effect in the time skip, as it keeps those characters in your house after things go down and... well, as I said, I won’t spoil things, but just know it really makes you think about what it means for some of your newer members stay on board despite what happens and it does wonders for storytelling.

While I had my hesitations about weapon durability being back it worked out for the better. It keeps the some of the strategy fresh and makes really decide between a strong yet fragile weapon versus a weak but reliable weapon that can take 20+ more swings, especially with the special relic weapons. Though weapons breaking in a story mission sucks.

The voice-acting was great, much like in Echoes. Nothing much else to say save for the fact that there’s more of it and it’s all great.

As conflicted as I feel about the Black Eagles storyline, I like the overall theme individuality, standing up for your own beliefs on your own two feet, and making a name for yourself with your own effort. The execution... well, again, not going to post spoilers, but I’ll just say the journey was more exciting than the destination.

Again, my conflicting feelings on the story aside, I do like Edelgard as a character. I can really understand why she did the things she did in the time skip, especially after some of her later supports with certain characters. It makes me really wish the story itself was written to focus more the House heads than Byleth.

The fact that all the characters canonically have last names is a nice touch too.

Byleth aside, I did like a lot of the character designs, especially after the timeskip.

The ability to dismount is outright broken and I love it. My Pegasus Knights can look an archer in the eye and laugh at them before getting off their mount and stabbing them to death and climbing back on their flying horse.

Canto is also outright broken and I love it for similar reasons.

General Advice

Because I feel like being nice and I wanted to just give some pointers after finish a playthrough.

According to people far better at this game than me, Master Classes are honestly optional unless you plan on being a flying class. A lot of the growths and abilities aren’t really worth it unless you’re specifically grinding for them and at least on the Black Eagle route, horse mounts can be more of a hindrance than a help with the maps of the last few chapters. I couldn’t tell you how many times I had to dismount half my army just to get a few extra movement spaces.

That said, War Master, Wyvern Lord, and Falcon Knight are generally seen as good classes overall.

Like I said, at least on the Black Eagle route, mobility is probably the best asset you can have, especially for flying units. Combining flying units, Stride, and Warp can outright break some of these maps in the right situation. You can clear a map in one or two turns if you play your cards right.

Again, coming from people far better at this game than me, don’t prioritize recruiting other students, especially on your first playthrough. Your original group is honestly all you need and I believe you can get the teachers after a certain point for free if you need some extra magic on your team.

That said, general consensus from people far better at this game that I am is that Felix, Ingrid, Bernadetta, Ferdinand, Leonie, Lysithea, and Raphael are good targets to go for. Though given my Black Eagle route I’ll say that a War Master Caspar and Dancer Dorothea are nothing to sneeze at.

Use Divine Pulse, it’s there for a reason.

And that’s it for my quick thoughts. Rambling for this will be come... eh, later this week.

#your dictator is speaking #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses

3 notes · View notes

rufousnmacska · 5 years

Note

Prompt idea but what if Dorian, because he loves to be self sacrificial, decides to forge the lock on his own so that Aelin has the power to beat Maeve with her fire.

Ok anon, here you go. I tried to keep it short and sweet, but I don’t know if that happened. Thanks for the prompt - hope you like it!

Following Erawan’s Ironteeth legion north in his wyvern form was risky, but it was the fastest way he could get to Terrasen. Even so, he’d fallen so far behind, he estimated them to be days ahead.

When they’d set out from Morath, the force of witches and wyverns spread out in front of him was never-ending. He couldn’t see past them to clear skies.

What awaited them in Orynth? Death and destruction? Or had Manon summoned the Crochans to help Aedion in his defense of the kingdom?

A selfish part of him hoped she hadn’t. If she was still trying to gather the witches to her, that meant she wasn’t yet in the thick of battle. And wouldn’t be facing this hellish force flying ahead of him.

Dorian’s plan was to go to Orynth, hoping to find his friends, hoping they’d found a way around this curse. After being in Maeve’s head and stealing some of her power, he sensed she was still alive. And when she set out for Terrasen, probably with Erawan and the remainder of his armies, he sensed that too.

He should have ended her. Should have tried to kill Erawan, Kaltain’s warnings be damned. Then none of this would be happening.

The wyrdkeys pulsed in his pocket, sending a sickly tempting call to him. And so, his plan changed.

He didn’t need to wait until he reached Terrasen to use them and close the gate. If he did it now, perhaps he could remove Erawan from the equation. That still left the valg king’s armies and Maeve… But he’d just have to have faith in his friends that they could stop her.

Dorian spotted a small opening in the dense forest and landed, switching back to his human form. The place was familiar but he didn’t think he’d ever been to this part of Oakwald before. Nothing looked familiar. He felt it. And when he tried to delve deeper into that feeling, it pulled away. Like trying to remember a dream after waking up.

He’d seen the ruins of a temple from overhead, looking as if it had been pushed into a deep ravine. Who it had belonged to, he didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, he mused. If the ritual worked, there would be no gods left in this world who needed temples.

The thought made him wonder about the witch’s chosen goddess. Would she disappear with the others? What would that do to the clans? To Manon? She’d never spoken in detail of their religion, but he’d heard her invoke the Three-Faced Goddess.

That feeling of recognition washed over him again, prickling his skin like a chilled breeze. Turning around in a circle, he examined every tree, every rise and outcropping. None of it sparked a memory.

Dorian realized he was stalling.

With a shaky breath, he cursed his cowardice and pulled the three keys from his pocket. Manon had never told him the specifics of the ritual that she’d learned from Elena in the witch mirror. But he’d gathered enough from what Kaltain had told him and what he’d seen in Morath.

The wielder became one with the keys, thus becoming the door. The wyrdmarks opened it. What was to come after was vague, and he hoped for some guidance once he went through, perhaps from Elena or the gods themselves.

He pulled his blade free. Sorrel’s gift to him for besting her in their training. Again, that ripple of recollection passed over him, tugging at his consciousness.

“Enough,” he chided himself. “It doesn’t matter.”

With a quick slash of the knife, he cut an opening in his forearm and put the wyrdkeys inside.

His magic pushed against it, wanting to expel the foul, evil presence from his body. Fighting it back, he willed the wound to heal shut.

Blood still dripped from his arm and he used it to trace the wyrdmarks for OPEN on the ground. The instant he completed the final mark, the keys burst to life and he was dragged into an abyss of searing pain.

It might have been seconds, or minutes, or days before he opened his eyes. Time was meaningless in such agony. And yet, he knew he didn’t have much of it.

There was a hard pull on his magic, so Dorian let it go. The burning subsided briefly and he watched a golden haze begin to take shape before him. As it used his magic, Dorian heard someone approach. Expecting Elena or maybe even Gavin, he was shocked when his father came forward out of the gray fog.

Feeling his sword hang heavily from his belt, Dorian assumed Damaris had summoned the man somehow. As if knowing he needed to see him one last time before he died.

“Did you recognize the place where you left your body?” his father asked.

“No,” Dorian said, gritting his teeth.

“Let me show you.”

Before he could do anything, his father stepped close and placed a hand on Dorian’s head.

In a flash, the pain, the fog, the lock… Everything was gone, replaced with the clearing he’d been in. But his solitary body was not there.

A group of witches and men filled the area, watching each other suspiciously. Dorian saw his father go into a small caravan with the Blackbeak matron. He was spun around to come face to face with himself. The collar around this person’s neck was glinting in the sunlight and Dorian thought he might be sick.

“Hello, princeling.”

Dorian spun again, this time of his own accord. Manon walked forward, a deathly wicked grin on her beautiful face. But she didn’t see him. She looked only at the collared man.

He watched as the scene unfolded, realizing this had been the first time they’d met. After he’d freed himself of the collar, he remembered her face, her name. They were the only things he could remember from that time with any clarity. And without hating himself.

But he could never remember the specifics of how her face and name had come to be embedded in his mind.

Somehow, his father was showing it to him, now, before he died.

The setting shifted. They were still in the forest, he still wore the collar. Manon approached, spoke angrily to his father, then turned to face him as he cringed meekly in his saddle.

She spoke his name, peering at him. Not the valg. It was truly him whom she addressed.

The Dorian watching all this for the first time felt a sharp warmth spread through his chest. The heat wasn’t like the pain of creating the lock. It came from being reminded of something he was giving up. Something that hadn’t even had much of a chance to live.

As quickly as it had appeared, the forest disappeared and Dorian was back in this place between places.

His father offered him a wordless apology. Words weren’t always necessary here it seemed. He understood every ounce of regret and sorrow in his father’s eyes. He didn’t know if he could forgive the man, but the sentiment filled a small hollow he’d been carrying in his chest all his life.

As the lock continued to suck his power from him, the mist surrounding them parted, and two figures appeared. He recognized them immediately.

Kaltain and Nehemia. Their forms were like his father’s, solid but they moved as if floating on air.

The pain was cresting again, but he managed to ask, “How? Why are you here?”

Nehemia smiled and pressed her thumb to his forehead. It was a gesture she’d made once before. At the time, he’d been ignorant of its meaning. Only after she was gone had he known she’d helped to awaken his magic with the touch. This time, it awakened nothing. Instead, it soothed the growing agony within him.

Both the women looked to his father. In reply to their unasked question, he said, “Not yet. We are waiting for more.”

Dorian looked around, hoping beyond hope to see one more person walk from the mist.

Kaltain’s dark eyes looked at him with pity. “She is not coming. No magic tethered her to this place, and she bore no favor from the gods to keep her here. She has moved on.”

“Moved on? Where? I thought there was only one afterworld for the dead.”

“There is,” Nehemia answered. “But as long as the doors are open, the dead can travel. If they so wish.”

Dorian looked towards the lock. It still lacked a concrete shape, but it held the faint outline of what he’d been imagining it should look like.

“Will I-” A spasm of pain tore through him as the lock became corporeal. It eased again, leaving him panting for breath. “Will I be able to move on then? Can I follow her?”

A voice from behind him said, “No.”

It sounded familiar in a way that made him sick. If she was here… He refused to turn around. But it didn’t matter.

Asterin glided around to face him. The rest of the Thirteen fell into formation behind her.

“No,” he croaked. “No. All of you? No!” Tears filled his eyes, blurring everyone around him.

Asterin gave him a sad but gracious smile, then took his hand. “You can’t go on. Manon needs you now. More than ever.” Her look turned knowing. “Even if she won’t admit it.”

A curt laugh escaped his lips and her grip on his hand tightened.

“We have enough now,” his father said to the others.

Dorian whirled towards him, understanding too late what his father meant.

Another smile crossed Asterin’s face. “Live, Dorian.”

Before he could move or speak any protest, Asterin flung him backwards. Blackness whooshed around him, as if he was falling through the night sky. With a violent jerk, he landed in his body, still upright, tears running down his face and his voice hoarse from screaming a single word. No.

It was all he could do to stay sane each night when they stopped to set up camp.

The Khagan’s armies were well-trained and fast. But no force this large could move through rough terrain quickly. Chaol and Yrene seemed to sense his impatience and left him alone in the evenings.

He needed to get to Orynth. Not just to relieve the forces besieged there.

They’d received word that the witches had arrived in time to meet an opposing legion. The news was old to him. Why else would the Thirteen have been in that in-between world.

Erawan’s armies were also on the move, though they hadn’t been able to find out if the valg king led them.

When Dorian happened upon the Khagan’s army and his friends, he’d told them everything. Rowan’s relief at hearing the keys were no longer an issue - meaning his mate didn’t have to finish the task herself - quickly morphed into confusion. As had Aelin’s and Chaol’s.

Having been thrown back into this world before the lock was completed, Dorian had no idea if the ghosts of his family and friends had been successful in banishing the gods. And Erawan with them.

Those bestowed favor by the gods - Elide, Lorcan, Yrene - none of them felt any sign that their guiding hands were gone. But that was not confirmation.

The uncertainty gnawed at them all, making Dorian’s desire to find Manon unbearable.

If it wasn’t for Chaol, he’d have transformed and flown to Orynth already. But he just reunited with his best friend. He couldn’t abandon him.

Instead, they moved slowly north, each night growing longer, leaving Dorian feeling more and more desperate.

Dorian was covered in blood. Red, black, even speckles of blue that had rained down from above. Looking between the black stain on the ground and its mirror on Damaris, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in that space between worlds.

Whatever his father had done to rid them of Erawan hadn’t worked. At least the keys themselves were no longer a threat. Traveling between worlds wasn’t possible. While there had been more signs that the gods were gone, he supposed only time would tell.

A boom of wings woke him from his thoughts and he turned in time to see Abraxos land behind him. The wyvern was himself covered in blood. And bandages. Dorian’s eyes widened in shock at the extent of the wounds he’d suffered.

As he moved quickly towards them, Manon slid down Abraxos’s side, too exhausted to leap.

By the time Dorian reached her, she was smiling faintly. He pulled her into a hug, releasing an anxious breath when her arms wrapped around him.

“Hello, princeling,” she rasped in his ear.

“Hello, witchling,” he replied, squeezing her a little tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

Her body tensed for just a moment before relaxing into him again.

“How did you know?”

“It’s a long story for later,” he said. “I’m just glad we’re both here. Alive.”

#dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak #manorian #kingdom of ash #anon ask #my writing #apologies if the formatting appears shitty on the app #it looks ok on a computer #thanks tumblr

26 notes · View notes

maniacalmachinist · 6 years

Text

Predator/D&D (pt 5)

CHAPTER 5: DINNER AND COMPANY

Hach was uneasy in the odd vehicle, called a “cart,” pulled along by what Gyremar called a “Yak.” It was interesting listening to the odd banter, some of which was translated by the Cold One per request . . . learning that what he thought were oomans, or “humans” as they pronounced it, were a variety of beings that simply shared the bipedal trait. From what Gyremar had told him, even the Yautja would be considered “humanoid” simply due to the similar traits: bipedal legs for travel, hands with opposable thumbs, and the ability to speak some language while handling tools and weapons. The small one with the ridiculous facial fur was called a Dwarf, named Durgo . . . though there were several other humanoids of similar stature that varied region to region. The one with the tusks was called an Orc, but it seemed they weren’t very graceful or noble to one degree or another. He asked about the one that turned into a bird, and Gyre informed him that if he looked at her, a female elf, their ears were slightly elongated and came to a point, with sharper features that most considered attractive by most. The ones called Lars, Sven, and Jessica were the only actual humans of the group. He found that even in his hunts, he probably would never have learned anything that distinguishes one from another.

[Oh they have several differences, but with so much variance, the identifying features can become subtle . . . moreso if there’s magic involved, but that’s a cautionary tale for later.]

[What’s this m’gic you keep speaking of?]

Gyre made an odd sound, and spoke the other human, who was identified as female. She nodded as though given an instruction, made some gestures with her hands while chanting something. Eventually her hands raised over her head, and there an orb of light coalesced between her fingers, illuminating the woods. Hach tilted his head, fascinated by such a display, and clearly baffled.

[Magic is hard to explain . . . think of it as forcing your will upon reality itself to change something in that said reality, or instant thereof. It can be used to dominate minds, shatter material, and as you’ve seen create light where there is none. It’s not even limited to those actions alone . . . as I told you before, even a word can destroy a nation.]

Hach rubbed his neck with this information, [The closest we have is a burner . . . it fires a bolt of energy at a target, making a small explosion on impact.]

Gyre chuckled, [Sounds like a spell we called ‘Magic Missile,’ and it has a similar effect, but a good spell caster can launch several bolts at a time. Granted, it may not be as quick to handle as whatever apparatus you have for it, granted we do have devices that contain spells for quick use . . . but only an informed mind would know how to use them.]

[An informed mind . . . ? What do you imply?]

Gyre ponders a moment, [Magic is an art unto itself . . . you either have a natural affinity for it, you study it for most of your life, or you’re granted powers from one source or another. It gets more complicated since there are so many schools of magic, each with their own perks and pitfalls. The biggest lesson in magical arts is that most everything has a price.]

[What do you mean ‘price,’ and ‘dominate minds’?] Hach’s tone showed both fear and concern.

[Most spells are indiscriminate . . . they’ll harm friend and foe alike if your position isn’t considered. Some spells drain your life to compensate their usage. Others may require a sacrifice of some sort, and that alone gets messy. And dominate minds does exactly as it sounds . . . you bend the wills of sentients and animals alike to your will, forcing them to do what you wish. There’s ways around it, but it’s still wise to train your will against such things.] Gyre sighed, [Didn’t expect to have to teach someone the basics of the world . . . most understand these notions well within some years of learning how to walk, race pending.]

Hach canted his head, taking in this information, looking at his weapons and for the first time, considering it nearly inadequate for the needs of this world. He glanced at the oomanoids, taking note of the equipment they wore and how they wore it. The d’orf carrying his lopsided “axe” with a U-shaped hook, attacked to a series of straps looped around it’s shoulders. One ooman didn’t seem to have weapons strapped anywhere, but rather a pair of shaped metal bars over it’s knuckles, but the other had opted for a pair of small bladed weapons attached to it’s hips, holstered in straps of what appeared to be animal hide. The ooman female, as he learned, when not carrying her staff, it rests in a harness similar to the d’orfs’, the odd decoration of the weapon’s head seemed a bit too ornate for combat. He glanced at the U’rc, puzzled by it’s composure . . . while Gyre kept saying it was a “simpleton,” Hach suspected it had better combat skills than communication. It’s weapon seemed to be little more than a stick, thinner than it’s forearm, with a solid mass at one end with various ridges and spikes covering the surface.

***********************************************************

The group arrived a bit later, Gyre having to dismount first, talking to the entry guards, making a few gestures at Hach’s general direction. He remained quiet and immobile, looking around and wondering what the discussion was all about. After a moment, Gyre waved the group forward, [Well, we do have lodging for you, Traveler, and until you get the translation necklace, you’ll be operating close to me for a while . . . oh, and we’ll be having a discussion with the elders of this village to decide the best course of action for your stay. If anything, they’re mildly grateful . . . the creature you killed, a wyvern, had been a thorn in their side for some time. However, you’re still unknown to them, and will likely be the object of suspicion for a while.]

[You said Elders? Are they this village’s strongest warriors?]

Gyre tilted his head, baffled, [Not sure what you mean . . . Elders in the villages are usually those too old to do much more than manage the goings-on of locale. Some are retired soldiers perhaps, others are merely those who have ages of experiences doing various tasks and keeping things running. Some are merely handed their position as a form of family tradition, usually based on the deeds of a predecessor.]

Notably confused, Hach responded, [Do not the strongest rule these lands?]

[Strength comes in different forms . . . not sure what kind of society you hail from, but these people are more akin to a mix of pack hunters and herd animals. The many as one, so to speak . . . in hopes that every able-bodied individual is able to be productive and aid the village, city, or whatever passes for a civilization. Here, as is often seen, the frailest bodies often contain the strongest minds and wills . . . and sometimes, even the most dangerous.]

The notions presented were like a backhand to Hachende . . . strength in one aspect could be a weakness in another. Recalling the fight with the lizard, he now wondered how many stronger than himself could have perhaps fallen to such a beast. Lost in thought, he snapped back to the now, the oomanoids having hopped off while he remained a moment. Some of the village members came out, talking to the ones from the cart, pointing at him often, while talking among themselves. He then hopped off the edge of the cart, keeping a hand close to his minimized spear, uncertain of Gyre’s planning . . . there was a tap on the wi’vern’s skull from behind, spinning around to see what had happened. He looked around, at eye level, then dropped his gaze; a smaller ooman had crept up on him.

[That’s one of their young, Hachende . . . it would be wise to just let it inspect you. Curiosity is usually one of the more endearing traits of their species . . . and that one is braver than most from the look of it.]

Hach nodded, watching the little one circle and inspect him. He could admire bravery, though one of his own kind would have known better, but it seems for oomans, this sort of this is encouraged to some degree. It was patting his armor, he made a little growl, hoping it would understand that he doesn’t take pleasure in this. It then stepped back under his gaze, and he canted his head. The small creature made a gesture, placing it’s hands on it’s face, pushing them over . . . he pointed to his biomask in response, the youngling nodded. He grunted, unplugging the life supports, their tell tale snap-hiss startling the small creature a bit, but it stood it’s ground. He popped the mask off, resisting the urge to shiver in the chill, revealing his face in it’s entirety to the creature . . . he flexed his mandibles, glad to have no restriction and room to move. The youngling stared up at him, then brought it’s hands to the sides of it’s mouth, it’s index and thumb making motions akin to Hach’s mandibles.

There was a low chuckle as Gyre made his way back, [Well, seems you’ve been accepted by the youth of these people.]

The youngling seemed openly started by the Cold One speaking Hach’s language. [Are they usually like this?] The boy looked startled, then looked at Gyre, saying something unintelligible. Gyre snorted, [Some are . . . the little girl is asking about what you call your people, and wants to greet you properly.]

[This one is female? I should have guessed . . . males are rarely this brave.] Gyre laughed, and Hach brought his hand on the girl’s shoulder in greeting. It tried to mimic the gesture, but it’s small arms had a degree off difficulty with his size. When it managed to touch just below his collarbone, he nodded. Her mouth spread, then she darted off with that odd chuckling sound the oomans made. [What happens now?]

[They are interested in the event that took place between you and the wyvern, and will be inviting you to join them in dining. You are, for all intents and purposes, their guest this evening]

A human in more “ornate” attire approached him, but stayed near Gyre’s side, “We welcome you, Traveler, to the village of Crosslight . . . how might I address you?”

Hachende placed fist to chest, [I am Hachende, warrior of the Yautja,] Gyremar translated. [I was traveling to my homeworld after a hunt, when some anomaly threw my ship into this world.]

The human made a slight bow in greeting, “I am Mayor Halfpine, and your story fascinates me. We thank you for ridding us of the wyvern, and hope that our hospitality will compensate your needs. You mentioned a ship?”

Hache tilted his head, glancing at Gyre, then back to the human, [Yes . . . it’s a few days further east from what wyvern’s den.] Gyre blinked, translating.

“Do you require assistance moving it here, or do you intend to make it’s location your home for the time being?”

[I honestly doubt your kind could bring it here . . . and it’s among our laws to keep our technology out of the hands of others. To let it go like that is criminal to say the least.] Hache hissed and clacked in warning.

“Oh, don’t mistake me, it was an offer of assistance. Though I’d imagine Steward Gyremar might help in relocating it for convenience.” Gyre shot him a warning glance, his look saying, “Don’t overstep yourself.”

Hach canted his head, confused by the shift in Gyre’s tone, [Very well, you may move it here with my direction . . . however, any of your people get too close, their lives are forefeit!] He growled.

Gyre sighed, [About how large is this ship?]. Hach pondered a moment, looking around, then pointed to one of the lower lying buildings, a single level stable. [Hmmmm, I might be able to carry that then . . . ] Gyre noted, then conveyed this information to the Mayor.

Halfpine paled a bit at the threat, but sighed in agreement, “Very well, we’ll find a location close enough to the village, but secluded enough to prevent local curiosity.”

Hach clicked in agreement, [Very well.] he then stood straight, and planted his claw on the human’s shoulder. Gyre stated the response, then the human attempted the same gesture. He hissed in amusement as it almost looked like the youngling’s attempt.

***************************************************

They Mayor guided the group to the village’s Main Hall, tables lined with plates and mugs to accommodate the guests, Gyre and Hach at their own table, and room for 20 others stretched down from their position. [They’ll likely have questions for us while we dine . . . it’s an odd custom of theirs, but they are social creatures.]

[I doubt I will be getting used to this any time soon . . .] Hach grunted.

[Ah, you are a warrior indeed . . . and I share your disdain, but they do like to stand on tradition when it comes to “diplomacy.”]

[Dipl’massy,] Hach inquired.

[Diplomacy . . . it’s a method of social interaction meant to improve relations between two or more groups involved in something. A kind of formality, as it were. On the bright side, they’re feeding you, and providing shelter . . . best to humor them. At least their food is good . . . I always enjoyed their roast boar or yak. They have cooking down to an art.]

Hach blinked, about to inquire just as the villagers started to join. Gyre informed him of the hosts; there were the four fools and Jessica, Mayor and his adviser, the Orcen Blacksmith Blade’s Edge, Druidess Sedira Daybreak, Alchemist Primrose, Ranger Derrick Harringer, and a host of six villagers and three guards. There were various servants preparing the tables, and setting out the main dish, sections of “yak” as Gyre informed, as well as an assortment of nuts, fruits, vegetables, and what was called “bread rolls.” Hach was wary, but oddly intrigued by the smell coming from the selection. Half a yak’s ribcage was placed on their table, so they may dine in their own manner.

“Please, everyone be seated . . . our cooks have been at this all day, and it would be a disservice to let the main course get cold . . . well, colder.” There was a light chuckle, even from Gyre as he translated for Hach. The yautja was perplexed, but guessed that cooked foods was a requirement by the local diet as opposed to a luxury. The servants continued on their work, bringing rounds of drink and food while the locals talked among themselves. The random ones would steal a glance at their village’s guests amid their discussions, Gyre translating every so often.

Hach grunt, then tried the local food . . . biting in, he could taste the juice and the spices. He remembered eating a creature of similar taste on another hunt, but this added flavor was beyond his comprehension. He tasted the local drink as well, a thick red substance that had the sting of c’nthlip, though it was weaker than he was used to but the flavor again was beyond words. During his feasting, some of the locals coughed a bit as he ate, apparently unused to how his mouth and mandibles worked, but they resumed as he noticed how it was similar to the Orcs present.

“Hmmhmmm, well, the food here is always grand . . . but, onto business,” grunted the Orc blacksmith. He turned his attention to Hach and Gyre, “So tell us traveler, where do you hail from . . . and what sorcery brought you here?”

Sven chimed in while Gyre translated, “Oh cmon ol’Ashtusk . . . you just wanna ask about his weapons . . . you’re practically oozing with questions.” Gyre snorted, translating Sven’s comment as well.

[I’m not sure of this thing you call “src’ery,” as I was traveling between systems at the time . . . ] at which point he brought up his wristcomp, and displayed a projection of events over the tables, green beams of light forming a visual display of events. The locals were stunned, watching events unfold from this device, from when the ship slipped through a seeming black vortex amid the stars, combat with the wyvern, to following the four fools and their antics back and forth from the cave, examination of the corpse (which made a few in the room queasy from the look of it), up to him introducing himself to Gyre. Though some of the events were present in high speed, intentionally skipped.

“Fook me wit’ a gor’gn’s lock . . . !” grimmaced Durgo, almost dropping his mug.

[As for the weapons, I’m afraid I don’t know how to make them . . . just how to maintain and, if needed, repair. The Fabricator caste keeps to themselves, and covets their creations.] He pulls out his spear, flicking the contact and expands it to full length. The soldiers appeared startled by the display, but the Mayor intervened and calmed their reactions.

Blade’s Edge was agape at the display, “By Reorx’s Forge . . . this is beyond compare!”

[Ror’x?] Puzzled Hache, [It’s one of the deities of these lands, a god of Forges and Creation, usually worshiped by craftsmen.] explained Gyre, chewing on a rib.

The discussions went on, questions darting from side to side . . .

[What do you mean “make something of my trophy”]

“I said if you wish, I can reforge that wyvern skull into a suitable helm or mask for your future travels. Materials like that are rare! Some of it’s strength can be added to your own.”

Hachende pondered the implications of this . . . the Yautja did something similar, but to actually adorn one’s self in such a way is a far-flung notion. Even He Who Stalks the Serpents only dressed his equipment to look like the Kiande Ahmeda, but gaining such strength by forging the remains into equipment? [I will consider it . . . I assume such practice is common?]

Lars held up his knuckle bars, “Damn straight . . . why let a corpse go to waste, especially from a powerful creature? What I wouldn’t give for raptor claws.”

“No kiddin’ lad . . wha’ I would’nae give to have dragonscale armor.” He laughed, downing a drink, before coughing while Gyre gave him an unnerving look, “Oh, uh . . . err, no offense Stew’rd!”

[I keep hearing this term “dragon,” and you said you were one Gyre.]

Gyremar snorted, [Imagine that wyvern you fought . . . but four times the size, far older, far more powerful, and likely smarter. Hmmmm . . . I wonder I recall seeing the magic ring in your light display, towards the back of this building when you were observing us, yes?]

Hach tilted his head, bringing up the image, [I could see little through the blizzard.]

[Can you adjust the image to see what you might have missed?]

Hach raised a brow, then made adjustments, shifting visual modes and detection capabilities from the recording. Then there it was . . . a massive creature with a long neck and tail, powerful wings and a spinal flair that ended in a crest atop it’s head.

Gyre looked at it with a smirk, [Hmmmm, looks like I put on more weight than expected. I’ll have to get out more.]

[You’re mocking me?]

[Hardly . . . you remember the female who turned into a bird? You’ll see it tomorrow when we go to find your ship.]

Hach glared at him, unsure how to react with such a claim.

#predator #yautja #D&D #fanfic

8 notes · View notes