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moved-to-void-kissed · 2 years

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A dear friend of mine said, to quote, “ain’t never seen two siblings who didn’t share aspects of their fighting style”

So I went down through mine, and.. she’s right:

Both Alectra and Lamia wield swords, like Tartaglia’s melee stance, with Lamia having actually witnessed him learning his sword skills from Skirk in the Abyss

Catarina shows Felix the value of learning magic in addition to swordsmanship in their shared supports (like this one comic I saw that was like “felix if your sword got knocked out of your hand and you could conjure up a new one wouldn’t that be epic”), and ends up taking pointers from how he fights with his own sword too

Inigo is highly skilled in archery, one-handed weaponry, and sneaking - which are the exact same three skills Carmine specialises in (plus alchemy, in her case)

Aria and Vanitas are both dark entities and wield Keyblades of darkness in their fighting styles, with both also focusing way more on offense than defense (I think of Vanitas as more able to take hits whereas Aria is more about dodging them)

Katya, Dima and Echo all have mutations that can be used to attack in various ways - Katya by producing tissue, Dima wielding something with his telekinesis, Echo manipulating electrical signals inside an opponent’s body

Noel is battled on Grassy Terrain by the player, and Adriana’s Aevian Mismagius can set that; Noel, Anna and Adriana all also have at least one Fairy-type Pokémon on their teams (Clefable and later Xerneas, Sylveon and shiny Gardevoir, Mimikyu); Lumi and Adriana both battle more to have a good time than to necessarily get stronger (and Lumi also has an Alolan Ninetales, which is Fairy-type!)

The Lumas don’t generally really fight, and Mimi doesn’t like fighting either, though she can using star magic if she needs to (and Lumas become stars, so)

Maria has two guns. I don’t have a self-insert for her source yet but I don’t know how she learns how to use those so maybe I can teach her? Either that or we can match in dual-wielding but I have some other sort of weapon, I'm not sure yet.

I do believe that is all of my fictional siblings

#a call from the void #selfship #selfshipping #heart of the void #this is going to be a *lot* of tags #brother: abyss‑forged warrior (tartaglia)#self‑insert: ashen nightingale (alectra)#self‑insert: abyssal curiosity (lamia)#brother: sharp tongue and sword (felix)#self‑insert: lone lynx (catarina)#brother: cobalt cool cat (inigo)#self‑insert: are you feline lucky? (carmine)#brother: emptiness of shadow (vanitas)#self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#sister: ready to meet the world! (katya)#brother: jaded asset (dima)#self‑insert: to carve out a new life (echo)#brother: forgotten prodigy (noel)#sister: of amethyst and starlight (anna)#sister: sweet snow angel (lumi)#self‑insert: soul‑touched (adriana)#siblings: stars yet to be (lumas)#self‑insert: comet child (mimi)#sister: silly little bunny (maria)#self‑insert for panda pearl #familial F/Os #phew!#long post #ask to tag

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miss-1ng · 3 years

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Hello! For the Fire Emblem:Three Houses prompts, can I request number 36 for Sylvix??

Of course you can! But be warned, this is a sad one, thank you for requesting!

Felix doesn’t like her.

He doesn’t like her face, her smile, her laugh – it all seems fake. And Felix does not like fake people.

Sylvain gets his first girlfriend when he is 12. It’s one of those times of years where the whole group has met up at Felix’s house. Sylvain and Glenn had gone off to the market by their parents’ instruction, while Felix stayed behind with Dimitri and Ingrid, sparring with their wooden swords.

When they come back, Sylvain has a girl holding his hand, wearing a boastful smile as they walk into the garden.

At first, Felix is oblivious to his best friend’s companion, and runs up yelling his name, wrapping his arms around Sylvain’s waist. “Sylvain! Come and train with us!” He pulls at his friend’s wrist, but Sylvain stays rooted in the spot, wearing a nervous smile when his eyes flick from the girl to Felix. Then they go back to the girl..

Then someone coughs, and he meets the sharp blue eyes of a girl. “Syl.” She tugs at his hand, eyes flicking up. “Can you take me to that special place you were talking about?” She flutters her eyelashes. Felix pouts and directs his best glare to the girl.

“Sorry, Fe, can training wait? I’m busy now.”

“But-“

But Sylvain is already gone, the girl with him.

Glenn takes his shoulder gently, directing his younger brother to the rest of their friends. “C’mon Fe. You’d rather train with Sylvain over me?”

“YES!” Felix cries, stomping his foot on the ground. “You’re just gonna want to train with Ingrid anyway.”

Glenn suddenly looks embarrassed. “Well, Ingrid, I did get you something,” he says. Ingrid lights up. “I found a brooch. Thought it reminded me of you.” He hands it to her. She thanks him with a wide grin. “But I do want to train with you, Fe.”

“I want to train with Sylvain though…”

“Well Sylvain’s busy. C’mon.”

The years pass and Felix becomes more acquainted to Sylvain’s behaviour.

Three years go by. Glenn dies in the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix shuts himself from the world, from his friends, from his father.

“Fe!” Sylvain exclaims outside his shut door. “Can you please let me in?”

He stays silent, head buried in his pillow while his body shakes with silent tears. Sylvain wraps his knuckles against the door again. “Felix, please! I need to- I need to know if you’re-you’re okay, please.”

“SHUT UP!” he suddenly screams, then regrets it as his voice, hoarse from crying, screams in protest. He feels tears blur his vision wipes them off with the sleeve of his shirt. Sylvain knocks again, and Felix has suddenly had the last straw, screaming at the top of his lungs, “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

There’s silence from outside, and for a horrible second Felix feels as if he’s hurt the older boy’s feelings. Then the door suddenly opens, and Sylvain runs in, concern evident in his eyes as he pulls the younger boy close in his arms.

“You’re not getting rid of me so soon,” he whispers lightly, though the tease falls flat as Felix throws feeble punches against his chest. He screams again, trying to get out of Sylvain’s hold.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” he hisses through his teeth, the threat staying effectless to Sylvain who just holds on tighter. “LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO!” His shoulders slump down. His head falls on Sylvain’s chest. “Please, Sylvain, please.”

“Not in a million years, Fe.”

And through the tears, and the pain, Felix doesn’t think he’s ever been so infatuated before.

Things do cool down between them, over time that is. It takes a while, but suddenly Felix is over (he is, 100% is) Glenn’s death, and is intent to go on his life ignoring his father, the boar, and all of his friends.

If only they’d be so intent on ignoring him.

Especially Sylvain. He has been especially clingy since they arrived at the academy, even through the one night stands he picks through, girl after girl.

And Felix still hasn’t told him. Not that there’s anything to tell. Either way, Sylvain wouldn’t care. He’s got too much on his plate – that being girl’s he doesn’t even know the first thing about, not even their names.

“Come on, Fe,” Sylvain whines, his childhood nickname dripping off his tongue like they’re close like that now. They may be best friends, but it’s safe to say they’ve grown apart over the years. “We’ll just drop by the town, pick up some girls, and have some drinks? How does that sound?”

Felix lets his sword drop onto the floor. “It sounds awful,” he spits bitterly, pointedly ignoring the flutter his heart gives. “Why do you even want me to go? I’m sure you’d have much more fun making out with some girl.”

Sylvain looks at a loss for a second. Then he plasters his smile back on and throws an arm around Felix’s shoulder he shoves off. “Felix, think of it this way. I need fun, you need fun. And the girls need fun.” He winks. “Isn’t that a great idea?”

“No.”

Then he frowns. “You know what I’ve noticed, Fe?” Felix scowls as he looks up, meeting the taller man’s eyes. “You hate it when I bring up girls. Why?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Felix stares for a second before staggering back as his eyes bug out of his head. “Shut up,” he repeats.

“I never wanted them.” Sylvain takes a step forward, eyes longing as they stray on Felix’s form. He can barely hold in the way he inhales sharply when Sylvain continues. “I only ever wanted you.”

He finds himself shaking his head. “No. You don’t. You don’t want me. You’re lying. Shut up.” Sylvain takes another step towards him, gently cupping his chin in his warm hands. Felix slaps them away. “Sylvain, you don’t fucking get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“We can never be together, Syl.” He finds Sylvain’s childhood nickname falling from his tongue like water. Sylvain leans forward, his lips slotting against Felix’s like they were made to be, as sappy as it sounded. And yet, despite his words, he leans into Sylvain’s kiss, relishing in the moment before he pulls away again, dropping his gaze to the floor. “It’s time you get that.”

And Felix pulls himself out of Sylvain’s longing grip, ignoring the way he calls for him as he leaves the training grounds.

They couldn’t do this. But why didn’t Sylvain get that?

Requests are open! Please request a prompt, I'd love to write one :D

#sylvix #kiss prompts #angst #sad ending #filled prompt #my fanfic #my fanfics

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flamingo-writes · 4 years

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Don’t Tell Dimitri — Claude x Reader

Summary: It was after one of the monthly missions that Byleth had asked you to assist with the Golden Deer. Your lance skills were remarkable enough to have Claude manipulating Byleth into asking for your help. However, Claude’s reasons to do so were others rather than just your strength and skill.

A/N: I went for F!Byleth instead of Gender Neutral Byleth, as I originally intended. I’ve been playing far too long with F!Byleth, I sometimes forgt M!Byleth is a thing too XD forgive me. Also, I’ve been loving the Golden Deer route, although I’ve got to admit, I miss my Blue Lions :c Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

Also! I headcannon Byleth to be a cheeky little shit. Everytime I have the opportunity to answer with any sarcastic/smartass answer, I go for that one. So, my perception of Byleth is heavily influenced by it. I apologize if you eadcanon Byleth to be more of a composed/serious character.

Posted: 04.21.2020

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: curse words.

How bad things would go if someone ever found out Claude's teeny tiny crush on Dimitri's younger sister? The princess of Faerghus. Being roughly a year younger than both Claude and Dimitri, skill wise, you weren't in any way behind them.

In fact, from a young age, you showed great skill with a lance, despite your lack of Crest. You waved your lance with such precision as if it were both a third arm and your dominant hand. With such grace and skill you waved any lance, making it hard to believe you lacked a Crest.

That skill was what first caught Claude's attention. However, your laid back personality and sharp tongue amused him like very few things in life did. However, he could see through the cheerful mask you wore to cope with the horrible past you and Dimitri had been through.

"Say, Teach" Claude said walking up to Byleth who was attentively watching you train with Felix. "Don't you think we'll need a little help for our mission at the end of the month?"

"I can't believe you are admitting our lack of skill, Claude. It pains me, really" Byleth snapped sarcastically at once "I'm sorry I can't be the Professor you deserve" She continued, knowing it would either annoy Claude or amuse him.

"Oi, no one said anything about you as a professor" Claude chuckled corresponding to Byleth's sarcasm "I was just merely stating a possibility…"

"Why are you here, Claude? I know its not because you want to train. I rarely see you doing anything productive at all on a Sunday" The professor remarked as Claude laughed softly.

"Alright, you got me, I'll cut the bullshit"

"Language, kid" Byleth chuckled rather amused by hearing kids use curse words.

"Those two are very tough on the battlefield. That first mock battle we had, I swear to the goddess, for a second I thought we were done for when I fought against her…" Claude recalled as Byleth nodded, remembering how Claude barely could dodge your fierce moves.

"You're suggesting that I should ask for their help for our next mission, is that right?"

"To be honest, Felix kinda scares me a bit" Claude admitted "He's so short fused, I'm afraid he ends up stabbing me instead if I do something to upset him. [Name] however...she's cool, funny, she laughs at my jokes. She's much more laid back than her brother. And at the same time, she's a killing machine with a lance"

"Is it just me or do I smell your hormones all over me?" Byleth chuckled, looking at Claude, trying to see his reaction, however, the young man simply shrugged. “You could either genuinly care for this girl, or you just want to get on Dimitri’s nerve, which one is it? Or is it both?” Byleth teased.

"Say what you want, Teach. Tease me to your heart's contempt. But rest assure, you'll remain my favorite lady in this monastery…"

"Good, I was worried that you might replace me for her" Byleth replied sarcastically.

"Me? Never! Who do you think I am?" Claude giggled mischievously.

"The Claudster" Byleth smiled back at her student before looking back at Felix swinging his sword swiftly as you effortlessly stopped each and every one of his attacks "Alright, I'll ask for her help after she's done training"

♤

By the end of the month, on your way to the battlefield, Claude and you didn't stop giggling and whispering things to one another. The two of you looked like elementary kids plotting something. But that same behavior helped camouflage Claude's feelings for you, as people thought you two were just friends. Some believed you were close to you just to piss Dimitri off. Either way worked to mask the secret Claude so desperately wanted to hide.

The mission wasn't particularly hard. But maybe it was because you were there giving a helping hand. A very helpful one. However, things of course wouldn't be as good after the Golden Deer had won the war.

While saving Claude's back while he was busy shooting an arrow, you'd twisted your ankle throwing your lance at a thief running towards Claude, ready to slash his back with a sword.

Claude helped you walk, holding one of your arms around his shoulders and one of his arms around your waist.

"I definitely owe you big time" Claude said, grateful that you'd saved his life.

"Oh, normally I wouldn't ask you to return favours, but I will ask for this one back" you joked, laughing, trying to mask the unbearable pain on your ankle.

"You better don't tell Dimitri about this" Claude laughed, knowing your brother would be particularly amused with Claude getting his sister injured.

"I don't know, it'd be a good way to blackmail you" You joked.

Once back at the camp, Marianne took a look at your ankle. Working a little bit of magic, it soon stopped aching and it no longer was swollen.

"I-I'm so sorry, [Name]. I can't completely cure you ankle. It'll no longer hurt, but you'll still need to rest" The shy girl mumbled too fast and too low, it was hard for you to properly listen to her.

"It's cool. You already did a lot" You tried reassuring her "The pain was the worst part. Thank you Marianne" You smiled.

"Teach, what now?" Claude asked Byleth as she sat next to you, looking at your ankle "It's almost sunset. We won't be able to be back at the monastery before nightfall"

"We leave tomorrow morning. It is dangerous to wander at night" Byleth answered standing up and walking to her tent. "Especially considering one of us isn't in the best condition to fight if we run into something"

♤

The moon was almost at its highest point in the night sky. The campsite, dark and silent, as only the echoes of Raphael's loud snoring. And Claude was unable to fall asleep. Not because of Raphael, it wasn't the first time they camped, the snoring had never been a problem.

His mind was restless with the thought of you being asleep a couple of tents away from his. In an in impulsive thought he could not ignore, he left his tent and walked across the camp stealthily until he reached your tent.

"[Name]" He whispered. She's asleep, you jerk...He told himself after whispering your name a second time. "[Name]"

The fabric shook gently as you popped your head out of the tent.

"Why the hell are you still up?" You whispered a scream.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" The boy asked.

"Not at all"

"What?" Claude raised an eyebrow as a smirk spread through his face "Why the hell are you still up?"

"Don't use my lines against me, smartass" You giggled "Wanna come in?"

Claude tried not to answer right away and instead waited a couple of seconds as if he was considering it.

"Sure" he shrugged.

You sat on your sleeping bag as Claude kneeled inside your tent and sat next to you.

"So? What brings you here?" You said leaning back, resting your weight on one of your arms.

"Couldn't sleep. And I heard noises coming from your tent" he lied, since you hadn't been making any noise whatsoever, but didn't question his words. "Wanna hang out while either of us gets sleepy?"

"Sounds good to me" You shrugged.

"Thank you for saving me today. Or...yesterday. whatever" He said frowning softly. "Thank you"

"Don't thank me Claude. I was merely doing my part, thats it" you said as your fingers reached his earring. "I like it, it suits you"

"Thank you, darling" he smirked leaning into your touch and shrugging softly "You're tickling me"

"I didn't know you were ticklish" You giggled, smiling mischievously.

"[Name], no!" Claude chuckled holding your wrist tightly as you tried to sneak it to his neck. "If we wake anyone up we'll be in trouble"

"Since when do you care about getting in trouble?" You snapped as Claude looked at you with a stare you knew it only meant trouble.

"True" He hissed as he moved closer to you.

"No" You said once you noticed his menacingly stare as his hands quickly found their way to your neck and sides "Stop! Claude!" you tried to keep your giggles under control as Claude was the one tickling you now. "We'll get in trouble" You whispered a scream.

"Sorry, don't care" He whispered back at you as his fingers kept roaming, tickling you, trapping you in a torturous laugh.

"Claude!" You cried.

"Alright, fine" He was giggling as he stopped "Whatever Her Highness commands" He chuckled as you caught your breath.

"Claude?" You whispered, still panting softly.

"Yes, [Name]?" With a pleased cheeky smirk, he looked at you, his gorgeous green eyes meeting yours.

His heart stopped for a second once he realized what kind of look you were giving him. Your eyes were beginning to look sleepy, and yet, they scanned his face slowly. He noticed the particular way your stare would stop on his eyes and his lips.

Taking the hint, he leaned closer, slowly, giving you time to decide what happened next. At first, you didn't move, and the tip.of your.noses brushed softly, as he kept looking at you.

In a barely audible voice, you whispered his voice before closing your eyes. Once Claude saw his cue, he leaned in, closing in the space between the both of you. His lips met yours.

It started as a shy simple kiss that quickly heated up after you locked your lips with him. At first, the both of you awkwardly trying to adjust to each other's rhythm. But once you managed, the both of you lost yourselves in it.

With your heart on your throat, you clung to Claude, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping his hair. At the same time, Claude wrapped one of his arms around your back and squeezed you against his, while he rested his weight on his free hand.

Finally, you broke the kiss, the both of you breathless, panting lowly. Claude bumped his forehead against yours as the both of you remained motionless.

"Let's not tell Dimitri about this" You panted as Claude nodded.

"Agreed" He whispered, looking into your eyes for a brief second before leaning closer to steal another kiss from you.

#fire emblem imagines #fire emblem claude #claude von riegan #claude x reader #claude von riegan x reader #fire emblem three houses

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five-miles-over · 4 years

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‘Aftermath’ Part 9: Be Prepared (Commodus x OC)

Summary: With the Senate officially dissolved, new alliances and plans form. The Emperor calls an old advisor, and two military minds come together to save their Republic.

Warning: Mentions of violence

Word Count: 2,203

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here

Read Part 6: These Palace Walls here

Read Part 7: Wait For It here

Read Part 8: Something There here

“I had hoped you might have learned some humility and respect.”

Petronius scoffed as Gaius led him out of his villa, having spent the night there after a long discussion filled with songs about the Republic and philosophical quotes. The estate was quite modest for a Senator, or rather a former-Senator. Lemon trees that emanated a sublime citrus fragrance lined the front of the sandstone building.

“Forgive me, Senator. A general is one who only knows to fight their enemy whilst looking them in the eye. He knows not of the art of flattery or the strategy of bending words with a slip of his tongue.”

Gaius sighed. Such is the nature of most military men, he thought, save General Quintus. That man had enough intelligence to save his skin when Commodus seized power for the first time. However, like all military men, his allegiance ultimately returned to the Spaniard at the crucial moment of judgment. “You crave for too much, General,” the older man replied. “It does not become a warrior to yearn for bloodshed so strongly.”

“I want him dead, that is all,” Petronius dismissed. “Rome has suffered enough under his wing.”

“And we shall save our motherland,” Gaius finished. “But we must arm ourselves with alliances and unite the forces under our cause. In the meantime, there may be a chance that Mania may take control of our Caesar before any other weapon can.”

As he reached the iron-gates of Gaius’s estate, he snorted. “With all due respect, Senator. If you are waiting for Commodus to lose himself in madness, then it is now that we must strike.”

Petronius continued, “He has no one left, Gaius. Even his own family had begun to fear him - his sister, his nephew…and possibly anyone else who happened to know Commodus as a child. If we killed him now, there would be no one too mourn for him, or defend him.”

“Humor me, then. How would you, a mere general who lives off the Emperor’s bread and salt, kill him?” Gaius smirked condescendingly.

“Bribe the servants to poison him.”

“Suppose the servants decide to tell the emperor,” Gaius countered. “You would be caught, and they would be rewarded.”

“Then we bribe the gladiators to attack Commodus.”

“He pays their entertainers well enough. Why should they complain or succumb to the influence of an outsider?”

With every counter-remark given by the old man, Petronius felt his temper dissipate bit by bit. Who was Gaius to lecture about the importance of saving Rome from a dictator when he himself, let alone his friends, could not bring themselves to take action? Even after the loss of their positions within politics, all the men were talking about the night before was the beauty of Gaius’s seemingly splendid mistresses. Certainly the wine may have loosened their usually-sharp tongues, but it was surprising, nay unacceptable, to see the state of Rome’s greatest minds.

Could those men not see that by lying low, they were putting the lives of Roman citizens at risk? That by refusing to rise to their call of duty, that they were only clipping the wings of the eagle that symbolized Rome and its greatness? It would only be a matter of time before the emperor, in a bout of madness, paranoia, and pure malice, would sever the talons of this eagle and leave it as powerless as a common fowl.

The general’s nostrils flared while the veins in his forearms throbbed furiously. “I do not care for your shrewd statements, Senator. I do not wish to contemplate upon your retorts, nor do I wish to indulge your appetite for wordplay. As I have told you, I am a general - I shall fight with my hands and not with my tongue. My hands are bound to serve Rome, and all it stands for.”

“Nevertheless,” he hastily added. “Since I have shared your bread and wine, as well as taken refuge in your home during the night, I shall revere you as any proper guest ought to. Fare thee well, Senator. I hope that you and I shall meet again.”

“Fare thee well, General.” Gaius watched as the young man vanished into the hustle and bustle of the public square. He certainly had a problem with the much-too-transparent ideologies that military men had, but in order for Commodus to receive his duly-deserved demise, the Senators needed the favor of the military. Perhaps he ought to the be the one to vouch for diplomacy in the midst of this clash of ideals.

The city was quiet compared to most days, even for a mid-morning. Possibly due to the games taking place today, the plebeians seemed to be missing from the streets. However, peddlers were still out selling their goods - a man clamored for people to buy his new stock of clams and oysters, freshly caught from the Mediterranean, while another advertised fine silks imported from China. Various hues in various designs, he said. A dark red one with a golden border caught Petronius’s eye, immediately remembering his sister’s favorite color.

Perhaps he could buy a bolt of the silk for her, possibly as an attempt to apologize for being away all night. Ever since his brother-in-law had passed away from the wars against Germania, he had sworn to guard his sister and her two sons with his life. Keeping such a vow felt almost effortless under the reign of Marcus Aurelius, but under his son, it was the contrary. She wept in Petronius’s arms the night that Senator Gracchus died, saying that she was glad that her husband received an honorable death instead of a false treason accusation. At that moment, he shushed her for fear that the other Praetorian guards would hear her, reporting them both to the emperor. However, if he could turn back time, he’d tell her not to worry, for the emperor would not live long enough to turn Rome into ruins. And with a warm hug, he would seal his promise to her.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Boots clicking, Emperor Commodus paced the empty throne room with a strangely serene look on his face. He’d just come from the games, which never failed to amuse him. For those moments in the Colosseum, he felt as powerful as the gods themselves, taking life as needed, while watching lesser beings fight to survive. Sweat beaded his forehead while he walked, and he almost wanted to remove his laurel crown off due to the heat. Nevertheless, an emperor had to look his best at all times.

From an outsider’s standpoint, it seemed that Emperor Commodus took the Senators’ tongues along with their power. Silence was all those dry old men had to give him today as well. He needed to know what they could possibly be thinking of, nay, he needed to know about their plan to end his reign before they could strike. It was time for an old loyalist to join minds with him again.

“Falco, I’ve been expecting you.” The former senator entered cautiously, his leather sandals echoing against the smooth floor of the palace halls. He bowed before the emperor and stood upright. From the events of last night, it was with much skepticism that any of the senators thought that they could ever receive the emperor’s good graces. Perhaps his former loyalty has now manifested into a blessing. “How may I be of service to you, Caesar?”

Commodus gestured for him to be seated. “I take it that you, along with your colleagues, have heard my decision regarding the new…alterations in the governance of Rome. It must certainly displease you and your colleagues, does it not?”

Without flinching, Falco kept his wits near despite the presence of the temperamental Emperor. “Caesar, I cannot speak for those men. With all due respect, they are no longer my colleagues. All I know is that you are my Emperor, and that every decision you take must have been formed with necessary contemplation." Falco knew he was telling lies. To the Senate, Commodus never gave the impression of a man of thought, let alone the impression of a man.

And as for the Emperor, he knew better than to take the former Senator’s words by face value. Nevertheless, he did need an ally and it was only Falco who gave him advice when the rest of the Senate sided with Maximus.

“Thank you, Falco. Out of those men, it seems that you are the only one who genuinely cares for my welfare. Your priorities lie for the Empire, and for none else. That is why I wish to make you my main advisor. With no Empress and no Senate, I need a good man like you by my side…to rule, and to care for the people.”

Pretending to be stunned, brimming with gratitude, Falco rose from his seat. “Highness, your offer is…one of high value.”

“Join me, Falco,” Commodus extended his hand, which was accepted by the former Senator. “Join me, and we shall usher in a new age of Rome.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The Sun was ruthless to the troops of Rome today - many a foot soldier grunted with displeasure as they sparred with each other under the sweltering heat. General Petronius and Centurion Philomenus greeted each other with a familiar look, having seen each other at Gaius’s meeting last night.

“I sense tension in your fingers,” the general pointed towards his peer’s hand.

Philomenus chuckled as he glanced at his knuckles circling the hilt of his sword. “I…I thought about my sister. How she must be waiting for me, and how the heat is making her uncomfortable.”

“I empathize - I have a sister as well. Her husband was a legionnaire - do you remember Felix Cassius? No…well, the army is quite massive.”

The centurion picked up his weapon, twirling it absentmindedly. “Forgive me for not knowing him. I think it would take one eons to count every single life lost during the late emperor’s battles in Germania.”

Petronius gritted his teeth. “I wish the emperor’s son lost his life in Germania instead of the emperor.” Almost immediately, Philomenus tackled him to the ground with a sandy hand over his mouth.

“You monster!” Petronius gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “What in the name of Jupiter was that for?!”

“It was for daring to speak against the Emperor. We both know that punishment would be doled out on both of us - on you for your impudent tongue, and on me for listening to your talk of treason.”

“Men like you make me sick,” the general spat. “Was it not you who quoted the great Marcus Aurelius himself, having memorized his extensive writings? Do you not know that by punishing those who speak out against Commodus, you only encourage his tyrannical, anti-republic ways?!”

“Perhaps, but I do know when to keep my tongue in my cheek,” Philomenus retorted. “Did you not see what happened to the Spaniard who dared to challenge the emperor?”

“The Spaniard was once a general, Philomenus. He used to be one of us. If he could not complete his revenge, it would be our responsibility to finish it for him.”

Shaking his head, he took the general behind a wall while pretending to be very thirsty. “I do believe in the ways of the Republic, and that Rome’s golden age ended when the republic was seized by a pompous man pretending to be a dictator.”

“Commodus is not Julius Caesar, Philomenus - he has no military prowess of his own, aside from formidable swordplay.”

“Please, just know that he will not last long. The grain will run out, and the public who loved him so much will turn their backs on him. But while he’s in power, let him be happy.”

“You sound just like those blasted Senators,” Petronius grunted. “Those old men can afford to live off their ancestral wealth for their remaining years, but you and I are not like them!”

Philomenus yelled back, suddenly triggered by the mention of familial affluence. “I know that! My parents perished when I was thirteen, leaving my sister and I penniless with a pair of newborn twins.”

“I have worked a long way to come where I am,” he continued to fume. “I know what I have read speaks of a Republic, but what can I do?! What can we do, given our state?”

“Then join me,” Petronius coerced the other man. “Help me think of a way to kill Commodus, and together we can bring back the Republic Rome was always meant to be.”

“Here is what we’ll do- we will ambush him from the exit gates of the Colosseum. And when he enters without bodyguards, we will make our presence known and attack him,” Philomenus whispered. “I will keep our weapons under my tunic so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“Anger has certainly brought your intelligence into light. I admire your plan, but what will I do?” Petronius asked with a raised eyebrow.

The centurion smirked, “Stay alive, and keep your goddamn mouth shut for once.”

“Commodus must die….for Maximus and for the Senate.”

“No, he must die for Rome.”

#commodus fic #commodus x oc #gladiator 2000 #gladiator au #gladiator fic

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tsunnychan · 4 years

Text

xii. chasing daybreak: making up

As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for

ao3

Sylvain is a little over two years old when he meets a couple of babies.

At first, he was excited to go to Fhirdiad. Excited to leave the chilly northern border.

Maybe a little sad because his brother wouldn’t be coming with them. But maybe slightly relieved because he wouldn’t have to worry about covering his arms with long sleeves anymore.

As soon as the Gautier carriage comes to a stop, he bursts out and runs into the sunshine, letting the warmth seep into his skin and feeling the gentle breeze through his hair. He spins around three times and trips on his own feet for the fourth. He tumbles to the ground, knees scraping against the pavement, but he bounces right back up, far too energized to let a few cuts keep him down.

He spots Glenn a few feet away, his jet-black hair tied back into a neat ponytail, his slate gray eyes crinkling at his antics. Sylvain speeds over there before his mother can rein him in. He skids to a stop in front of him and gets a ruffling of his hair in return. His chest feels full and he beams up at the older boy.

Different from Miklan.

He’s about to ask why Glenn is here too when more carriages arrive and King Lambert steps out to greet them, a tiny blue bundle wrapped in his arms. Glenn’s father follows close behind, a similarly sized teal bundle in his arms as well.

Sylvain’s racing heart stills for just a moment.

He hears more hooves on stone approach and he turns to the just-arriving party, their banners flying with a crest he doesn’t recognize. Several footsteps draw nearer, and Sylvain straightens before bowing low, just as Glenn does.

He gets another gentle hand on his head and he rises from the bow, his chest warming again. He looks up, now staring into two pairs of wide eyes, clear blue and deep amber. Glenn’s hand settles on his shoulder and nods toward the teal blanket. “Sylvain, meet my little brother, Felix.”

He inhales deeply, watching the baby’s face crinkle in the sunlight. He slowly reaches out and pokes his cheek. Felix’s face scrunches into a light scowl before turning his head toward his finger. Glenn snorts when Sylvain quickly withdraws his hand. “He hasn’t even been alive that long and he’s already a grouch.”

Rodrigue sighs, but a smile grows on his face regardless. “Glenn. Be nice to your brother.”

Those amber eyes open again, and he definitely looks annoyed. Sylvain smiles as Glenn unabashedly squeezes his brother’s cheeks.

He turns to the other blue bundle when King Lambert’s voice, low and affectionate, rumbles from above. “Sylvain, meet my son, Dimitri.”

He holds the small wiggling baby out toward him, and Sylvain feels a deep tugging in his chest. There are wisps of blond hair on his head, his blue eyes as clear as the sky, cherub face as round as ever. He stares at him in wonder, almost too afraid to touch him. He hears the King chuckle and he gets another pat on the head as Dimitri is brought back to his father’s chest. “Be a good friend to him, would you Sylvain?”

He gulps and nods vigorously. No way he would disappoint the King.

Then, another pair of blond heads approach, a mint bundle cradled in their arms.

Sylvain feels time slow.

Glenn shifts next to him, but his eyes are locked onto the squirming blankets, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out. His ears are buzzing, but he just barely hears Rodrigue address the newcomers. “Count Galatea, nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, Duke Fraldarius.”

Galatea.

“And this little one is Ingrid? Full of energy I see.”

A deep chuckle. “Indeed. I’m not surprised, considering how much she eats. Her mother is exhausted. Felix is growing quite well too, isn’t he?”

“He is. Already picking up his older brother’s disposition. Glenn?”

The hand on his shoulder squeezes once more before it falls away and Sylvain watches Glenn step forward, bowing slightly. “Count Galatea.”

He feels oddly out of place as the older man turns his attention to the older Fraldarius. His eyes briefly meet Sylvain’s before refocusing on the boy before him. “Glenn. Nice to see you doing well.”

“Likewise, sir.”

Sylvain’s blood pulses beneath his skin, nothing like when he first stepped off the carriage. His chest feels tight and he doesn’t think he’s breathing quite right.

“Would you like to hold her?”

He snaps back to attention as Glenn holds out his arms, accepting the mint bundle and bringing it closer to his chest. The baby’s eyes open and it sends a pang through him that he ends up taking a step back.

Glenn readjusts his hold on her, and she coos, a bubbly little gurgle. Glenn smiles.

Then, those wide eyes find his. A glittering green that sends his head spinning.

She reaches out for him.

Sylvain is eight years old when the rest of his memories slam into him.

He’s in Galatea territory, watching his friends play in the sun, their wooden swords clunking together with each drill Glenn leads them through. His arms are littered with scars and fresh bruises before he made it down here. His long sleeves were fine as he left Gautier, the summer still cool enough to tolerate additional layers.

But even just a little further south, the heat started to bake into his covered skin and his vision goes a little blurry. So, he took shelter under the shade of the large swaying oak tree, leaning heavily against its old bark.

He’d just been pulling at the collar of his shirt, fanning his face in an attempt to generate more air when the smell of roses hit him.

Then, citrus and orange blossoms.

Then, several noises start flooding his ears at once.

The deafening blow of victory horns.

Rapid footsteps heading in his direction.

The clang of armor and gentle whispers.

Soft cooing and exasperated laughs.

A mechanical grinding of coffee beans and hissing steam.

Echoing shoes on vinyl flooring.

Laughing children and a stuttering murmur.

The quiet snipping of garden shears.

Running water and sweet nothings on his skin.

Slamming doors and bated breaths, his blood pounding in his ears.

More gentle whispers, more exasperated laughs.

More shaky breaths.

A declaration of love.

Sylvain, I love you—

His eyes fly open with a strangled gasp, but he squeezes them tightly immediately, the sharp summer rays blinding him as he clutches his throbbing head. He hears a cacophony of voices call out to him, but it’s distant and his world is spinning, and his chest is aching—

He passes out under the sweltering sun.

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s laying down in a dark room, cool towel on his forehead, small fingers tangled with his.

He turns his head and spots a head of blonde hair resting next to him, her back rising and falling with slow, even breaths.

His heart calms and he closes his eyes once more.

Sylvain is fifteen when his heart breaks with a kind of pain that isn’t his own.

News travels slow to the North. They’re always guarding the border.

They’re always under attack.

The letter arrives several days late.

Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe they’ve been too busy with Miklan being disinherited. Sylvain’s got a crop of new bruises on his back and arms to prove it.

He opens the discarded letter on his father’s desk, and he balks.

The King and Queen have fallen.

The entire Kingdom troops deployed to Duscur, decimated.

Including Glenn.

Only Dimitri and a young Duscur boy remain.

He stops by a desolate Fraldarius castle first.

Felix is alone.

Sylvain stays a week.

He skips the capital for now. There’s too much happening in Fhirdiad.

From the rumors he hears circulating on his travels further South…

He’ll stop by on his way back up to Gautier.

He arrives in Galatea with little fanfare and chilled to the bone.

The lands are more barren than he remembers.

He mutters a brief greeting to Count Galatea and silently walks the halls to the room his heart tugs him toward.

Everyone has left her alone.

No one has tried coaxing her out.

What are we supposed to do?

Get through it. Together.

He knocks on her door, not expecting an answer.

It swings open immediately and Ingrid comes crashing into his arms.

It feels like I’ve loved you since forever.

Sylvain is nineteen when he enters the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery alongside his friends.

He sees Dimitri greeting several new faces to the Blue Lions house. He sees Felix stalking off to what he can only assume is the direction of the armory.

He sees a swinging golden braid and his feet are running before his mind catches up.

He catches Ingrid by the shoulders and swings her around when she stumbles under his weight. The smell of citrus and orange blossoms fill his senses once more. “Sylvain!”

He beams, his blood thrumming at the sight of her, well-rested, the light back in her green eyes as she mockingly glares at him. “Excited to see me?”

She scoffs. “In your dreams.”

He half expects her to shrug him off.

She doesn’t.

The smile on his face grows even wider.

Sylvain is twenty and it feels like they celebrated Ingrid’s birthday just yesterday when they watch Dimitri break in the Holy Mausoleum.

His childhood friend’s laughter, crazed, broken laughter rings in his ears in the days that follow. He hears nonsensical mumbling and pacing through their shared wall.

Sylvain is twenty when he knocks on Ingrid’s door once more.

It swings open and he crashes into her arms.

Her hands weave through his hair and the ringing in his ears quiet.

The Professor has fallen and Sylvain watches Garreg Mach Monastery crumble before them.

He’s lived this life before, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

An arm swings around his neck and a pair of lips crash into his.

Sylvain’s heart knows her before his eyes see her.

His hands grapple for her waist and her hands shift to cup his face. Like she remembers.

Like she understands what’s going on, and she’s making up for the times that they’ve lost.

Her lips are desperate against his, her breath hot in his mouth as the salty taste of their tears hits his tongue. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to open his eyes and re-live the chaos he remembers but still remained powerless to stop.

He doesn’t want to leave her.

Her lips are desperate against his and they finally break away, foreheads knocking almost immediately after.

Wanting to be close.

Needing to be close.

Sylvain finally opens his eyes again and Ingrid’s eyes are boring into his.

They look as old as his do.

The words are stuck in his throat. Why are you kissing me like this is the last time?

Ingrid’s lips move before his do, her words echoing with the memory of their past life. “Stay alive.”

You’ll find a way.

He smiles weakly back. “Only for you.”

Only for you.

She pulls him down to kiss him one more time, slower. Gentler.

Like it’s not the last time.

Then they separate.

Sylvain is twenty-six when Ingrid catches him by the neck and kisses him again, victory horns sounding in their ears.

That ancient box in his heart remains shut as he feels her smile into his mouth.

I’ve loved you since the very first time.

Ingrid is twenty-five when she cups Sylvain’s face to bring him closer, her lips meeting his as his arms wind around her waist, his warmth bleeding into her chest.

The silver wedding band on her finger glints under the summer sun.

#sylvgrid #sylgrid #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #fe3h #my writing #triple post 2/3 #i'm literally #not getting anything done

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reddeaddamnation · 6 years

Text

Imagine: Watching Bayek fight in the Arena

“Come, Aurelia! The show is starting!“ you urged your friend, grabbing her by the hand and leading her towards the terrace of the Arena, where your father Felix Martialis was waiting. “Oh, Y/N!“ Aurelia whined “Lately the gladiators in Krokodilopolis tend to be so boring! Have you been to Ravenna? The gladiators there fight bears!“ You looked back at her with a smirk “I’m sure they do. Where do you think they will find bears in this desert?” you laughed “I don’t know! Transport them here from Rome!“ your friend answered sharply. “It is too hot for bears here, Aurelia! But trust me, father says he has someone new to show the public. It is said that he is one of the best fighters.“ Aurelia rolled her eyes skeptically “We will see. He will either die like all the others or win another day to live.“

Your conversation was cut off, because your father greeted you at the entrance of the terrace and lead you towards your seats, one of each being large enough to fit the both of you, cushioned with red velvet and having two red pillows for extra comfort. Aurelia sat down in one of the seats and you sat next to her. In front of each of you was a silver plate with grapes and a goblet of wine. Felix stayed to speak with you for a few moments, before moving to the very front of the terrace to announce the beginning of the show that will put so many lives to an end.

“Your applause for,“ your father’s voice echoed throughout the arena loudly, so that even the people sitting in the back seats would hear him “The guardians of Siwa!“ The roar of people cheering and applauding filled the newcomers with confidence. Or at least the woman of the duo. She greeted the crowd cheerfully, with a grin, walking around the arena so that everyone can see her. Kensa was her name. You knew her from previous matches and she astonished you with her skills in battle and made you wonder how a woman can outmatch so many brutes and be just as equally brutal as them. The man next to her, on the other hand, caught your attention with his modesty. “That must be him!“ you nudged Aurelia with your hand, motioning for the dark skinned man. All you knew was that he was from Siwa. Your father didn’t tell you anything else, concerning him. “Do you think they are spouses?“ Aurelia asked you in a whisper. “I sure hope not.“ you scoffed.

The battles began and you watched with far more interest than during any other time you watched gladiators fight. Mainly because your attention was entirely on the newly arrived gladiator. “Father.” you called Felix. “What is it, my dear?” he turned his attention to you with a smile. “What is that man’s name?” you pointed at the man who interested you. “Bayek of Siwa, if I am not mistaken.” your father answered. “Are those two spouses?” you asked again, getting the answer to the question both you and Aurelia wanted. “No.” Felix answered. “Does he have a spouse anyway?” you continued interfering in Bayek’s personal life, annoying your father. “I do not know, Y/N!” he answered sharp-tongued. “He fights well.” you stated, gaining the suspicious look of Felix. “Why does he interest you so?” he asked, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow and serious expression. You shrugged innocently “There hasn’t been a fighter like that in awhile. Maybe these two will defeat the, oh so infamous Gallic brothers. I hope they do. They became boring quickly.” You rose from your seat to get a better look at what was happening. “Only Fortuna can tell.” Felix shrugged.

Bayek fought with astonishing style and ferocity. His muscles made you weak in the knees and the way he handled a sword made you wonder if he was equally skilled in handling a woman. Thoughts of the sort made blood pool in your cheeks and you had to lean against the fence for support. The crowd and so did you gasp at yet another brutal kill Bayek did and a moment later your eyes met. You stared at him, mouth hanging open, with a rather sensual expression and unintentionally moved your arms closer to each other, pressing your breasts together. His gaze made heat pool between your legs. A strange mixture of ferocity and tenderness...

That moment of distraction almost cost him his life, if it wasn’t Kensa who saved him from the man with a spear lunging at him. She scolded him quickly before returning her attention to the other enemies. “Maybe they stand a chance at the Gallic brothers.” Aurelia, who’s presence you had almost forgotten, spoke, startling you. She stood next to you with her goblet in hand and leaned against the fence. She shot you a sly smirk, realizing that you had zoned out. You shook your head quickly, trying to come down to earth as soon as you can and spoke in a forced indifferent tone “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” you scoffed. A minute later, Felix announced the end of the fight, followed by the loud applause and cheering from the crowd for the Guardians of Siwa.

You met eyes with Bayek again. This time he watched you with innocent interest, now that the threat is over and he can be at ease. The eye contact was broken by Kensa, who you dreaded for interrupting the moment. She nudged him with her elbow and apparently teased him about something, because he blushed and started making excuses in a loud tone. You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off the fence, making your way towards the exit. “Where are you going, Y/N?” Aurelia asked. “To see someone.” you answered

#assassin's creed #assassins creed #assassin's creed origins #assassin's creed origins bayek of siwa #assassin's creed origins bayek #bayek of siwa #bayek of siwa x reader #bayek of siwa imagine #bayek of siwa x reader imagine

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tiny-cloud-of-flowers · 6 months

Note

(last one i promise) (SORRY FOR ALL THE ASKS) for felix!! how did you come to see catarina as a sister ?? whats your favorite thing to do together when theres free time ??

(IT’S ALRIGHT, ANYONE CAN ALWAYS SEND AS MANY ASKS AS THEY WOULD LIKE TO!)

Felix: “Taking some time off from your usual expeditions, are we? Well, it’s good to see you in good spirits.

To answer your first question, that.. took a bit of time. You know what I was like back at the academy, after all. I didn’t actually get to meet Catarina until partway through the year, since it was only then that we ended up in the same house, but.. I’ll admit she caught my attention pretty quickly. She’s never trained as often as me, but we ended up arranging to spar together a lot, and that’s really how things got started. I’d say we have quite similar ways of fighting, so that common ground helped us to build up a connection, and then.. we started talking about other things than training, somehow. I suppose it was just- refreshing, to have someone around who had such an outside perspective. She may have roots in Faerghus, but the fact she wasn’t raised there, or raised to uphold the same typical values the Kingdom prides itself on - or even anywhere else in Fódlan - meant that.. there’s a lot I felt I could talk to her about, in a way I just couldn’t with others. Also, she wouldn’t hesitate to give me a piece of her mind, or say what she thought about things. Not many others were like that, so it stuck out to me.

By the end of the year, it didn’t feel like we had developed the same dynamic I have with my friends - and I wouldn’t necessarily say it was any worse or better, it’s just.. there was something different about it. Maybe it’s because it was just something shared between the two of us, not a piece of a larger group setting. A closeness that almost seemed more natural, or permanent, than just friendship, even despite the much shorter time we’d actually known each other. What I mean by that is that.. Rina and I can talk about anything, and it’d never feel like what we had could just suddenly fall apart, no matter what we actually said to each other. In fact, I don’t know if we’ve ever fallen out in a serious way; we may bicker a lot over little things, but it’s always more playful than anything else - never as tense or able to suddenly escalate as it could be with others. So, that’s.. really where the whole “sister” thing started.

Oh, and for your second question - we still train together, a lot. Catarina prides herself on being a difficult opponent to strike, and I’m very familiar with that by this point, but it doesn’t make it that much easier to get a hit in on her. Sometimes it can feel like I’m fighting a mirage of myself when she’s more on the offensive, which.. is a strange feeling, but I think it’s good. She also keeps trying to help me with the magic side of things, which usually results in her taking a pile of books out of the library and dragging me somewhere to go read them with her until one of us gets bored. ..I’ll admit that seeing her own spellcraft in action has helped me gain a greater appreciation of magic than I used to have, but I’m still not close to her own proficiency. Then again, I know I’d overpower her if she wasn’t using magic, so me having greater physical strength can still be more useful than her balanced and more agile style. And, the magic I do know how to cast is already far above what most swordsmen could use or expect from me, so I still have the edge in most combat situations, even without being an expert.

I.. hope that all of this answers your questions. Feel free to stop by again if you want to ask more.”

#heart of the void #selfshipping #brother: sharp tongue and sword (felix)#familial F/Os #self‑insert: lone lynx (catarina)#of war and tactics (fire emblem)#out of the inbox #selfship asks #alrest #I’ve tried to word this as vaguely as possible from a route perspective #but I was also technically running off of the old mixed-up/golden route lore #so the idea is cindered shadows took place during white clouds (specifically after the chapter when byleth gets the sword of the creator)#it finishes before the plot point of the following chapter (which I think is lance of ruin?) comes to light - it takes about 2 weeks #so then after the story of cindered shadows is done catarina would then become recruitable into the player’s chosen house #but you could argue that it makes sense for her to join the blue lions by default because her mother and half-siblings are from faerghus #anyway I got this one done before the other ones because writing felix is a good way of getting rid of frustrated feelings #so that was helpful #but since this one mentions being the last one that you sent me I didn’t want to post it until after i had answered those ;w;#and then decided otherwise thanks to talking to you #so thank you again #F/Ovember #F/Ovember 2023 #oops I forgot those tags

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