#mach energy today

[six-legged-sea-leopard]

genderfluid but like in a sometimes i’m a he/him 900lb tank of a sabercat with short, serrated teeth that could punch holes in a rhino kind of way

#mach energy today

[i-loveyou013]

Nervous

Alhaitham x gn!reader

-> IN WHICH Alhaitham acted nervous the previous days. Why's that?

-> Normal Universe

-> Wordcount: ~0.9k

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"Is he okay?" Paimon asked as she looked at Al-Haitham. Kaveh shrugged. "I don't know. He's been acting like this for quite a while. I'd say a few days…? Never once have I seen him like that. If I had to take a guess, I'd say one of his studies didn't work out."

Now you might be wondering what's gotten Al-Haitham all worked up. He's been distant. Sure, Al-Haitham was one of the humans that don't like human contact and is avoiding it at all costs.

But in the last few days, he's been distant, short-tempered and nervous. Kaveh wondered what could make Al-Haitham nervous.

Al-Haitham always made sure the house was cleaned, always made sure everything was set in place and always made sure that Kaveh did all these things as well.

Oh Archons, one time Kaveh put his dirty dishes in the sink, telling himself he would clean it later,

and Al-Haitham saw it,

oh boy,

Kaveh got a 30-minute long lecture regarding his dirty dishes, why he shouldn't put them in the sink, why he shouldn't leave them there and why he should clean them right away.

That made Kaveh worry.

Al-Haitham never acted like this.

Never.

"Now that I think about it, he's been acting so strange, it's not normal anymore. Well, as normal as he can be. I'm gonna ask him later in the afternoon." Mache said his last words before following Al-Haitham,

who ran off again, because "the colours don't match". Kaveh didn't know what that meant, so he brushed it off as he did before.

Al-Haitham was pacing around the house again.

"Al-Haitham." Kaveh stopped in his tracks to follow his roommate.

"Al-Haitham." He didn't respond to Kaveh's call, still murmuring "That's not good enough." and "This doesn't fit well.

"Al-Haitham!" Now Kaveh yelled his name. Said man stopped in his tracks, locking up his roommate. "What?!" The scribe matches his energy. "Can you not just stand around and help me?! The table is off, the light is too bright and the carpet is dirty!" Al-Haitham's tone was loud and demanding. [Name] should arrive the next day

or today,

he didn't know. That's why he wants the apartment to look perfect at all times.

It's been a year since you travelled to Fountain because of your job. What if you found someone new? What if your love for him disappeared? What if you realized you don't need him anymore?

He didn't know. But he wanted to. So badly. You never gave him an exact date when you would come back. If you did. Maybe you had sent a letter telling him you would stay. Telling him you didn't want him anymore.

"You need to calm down!" Kaveh's voice brought Al-Haitham back. "I don't know what's going on with you! The previous days you've been acting strange! Always walking around, never giving yourself a break, never once stopped complaining about how dirty this apartment is or how the lights are too bright! You need to stop! You need to take a break! Please." The architect grew frustrated at the end of his lecture.

Al-Haitham was ready to respond.

But the doorbell rang.

He instead froze.

Is that you?

Were you finally home...?

...back to him?

The scribe completely forgot about Kaveh and his lecture, about his complaints and, about his doubts regarding you. Instead, he paced towards the door, maybe it's not you? He carefully opened the door.

"Al-Haitham." You stood there, smiling at him. You came back.

Back to him.

Your boyfriend didn't move, didn't speak and didn't even think. All on his mind was you and you only.

"[N-Name]?" He couldn't believe his eyes.

368 days. 18 hours and 28 minutes since he has last seen you.

Yes, he counted.

How could he not?

"Aren't you gonna give me a hug?" You opened your arms and Al-Haitham immediately responded, hugging you.

And lifting you up. "Aw, did someone miss me?" You giggled. You were so happy to be back home and finally spent time with your boyfriend again.

"Quiet," Al-Haitham murmured while burying his head into your neck. You were sure 5 minutes have passed since he lifted you up. "Hey I know you missed me and all, but can you put me back down, please? We have time." You patted his head as he let you down, even though he complained. You put your hand around your suitcase and entered his apartment.

"I see you've cleaned. How unusual of you, I wonder what else is new." You laughed, noticing him blushing because of your words. "I-I wanted it to be perfect for you. I know how you like keeping your environment clean and organized." You were going to say something, but-

"YOU HAVE A PARTNER?!" Someone you didn't know yelled from behind. You turned around, surprised. "Haitham you didn't tell me you had a new friend, less roommate. Here I thought you would be lonely during the time I was gone." Kaveh didn't know it was even possible to get the scribe to blush, but here you are, making a stammering, flustered and blushed mess out of him.

"I'm [Name]. Al-Haitham's partner. And you are the 'annoying' roommate Haitham spoke about?" You held out your hand and smiled kindly at the new person.

"Yeah sure."

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #x reader #genshin #genshin fluff #alhaitham #reader #gn!reader

[idontknowreallywhy]

A little more Birthday fluff for the flyboy.

A glimpse into the future because I’m adamant he must have a happy one. I didn’t actually get time today to write the main part I intended but I shall post now in case I never manage to get there!

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Objectively, Eleven was clearly the best ‘bird.

She was 6-mach faster than One, more manoeuvrable than Shadow and could carry more than her fair share of weight, even if it wasn’t as much as third-generation-turtle Twelve could.

And Scott had flown her like a second skin… he’d been far more involved in Eleven’s design than he had of IR’s original fast response craft. And of course he’d been the primary test pilot, putting more than a few grey hairs on Brains’ and Virgil’s heads in the process. Not to mention his wife’s. He smiled wryly to himself at the memory of the incredibly loud dressing down he’d received post a certain test flight… which had been closely monitored from the island right up until he’d tried out the high speed air to water transition Brains hadn’t fully stress-tested yet and the comms had gone offline for a few minutes. Or ten.

Half an hour at most.

The smile broadened to a grin as he recalled the aftermath of that particular argument… and, Well. Even if six children hadn’t quite been the plan, Scott had really needed to objectively exceed his father’s record at *something*… so… all’s well that ended well.

But Eleven had always been his eldest daughter’s bird.

And the extra machs were irrelevant now. Ever since the the appointment shortly after his 70th birthday when the doctor had forbidden him from exceeding Mach Five. Slower than Two for goodness sakes. His immediate objections had been silenced by a very clear indication that the doctor’s baseline opinion was that it wasn’t wise for a septuagenerian to exceed the speed of sound at all.

Lest he make any fuss that might get back to Virgil… or god forbid IR’s current commander in chief, whose precise combination of his wife’s and his own genes mildly terrified him even now… he nodded meekly. He’d only bent the rules a couple of times in the 5 years since. Maybe three…

Or four.

Eight at most.

Anyway, he’d always maintain One was best: she’d always have an important place in his heart - his first great love.

Which is why, at the newly attained age of 75, as he stood staring moodily out of the lounge window awaiting Eleven’s return to the hangar beneath the pool, his second slipped her hand into his and quietly towed him towards the transport tunnels over to Mateo. The cavern which used to house the old back-up generator, redundant since the island had made the switch to fully renewable energy sources, had been expanded to create a new hangar. It was here the older ‘birds nested quietly, awaiting their occasional moment in the sun as back up to the younger generation.

Nothing was said on the journey, she just squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back. Scott helped her out of the little pod, and he led the way this time to where his pride and joy towered over them, gleaming silver and blue as she ever had. Scott paced an inspection circuit around the base, pausing to buff a smudge from one of the stabilisers with a shirt sleeve. His wife followed, gripping his hand ever so tightly and, he suspected, appraising him as minutely as he was assessing the ship.

Satisfied with what he saw, Scott stood back and smiled up at One, rather fancying she was smiling back down at him. The hand suddenly slipped out of his and he frowned, missing its warmth immediately but his concern was assuaged when both arms wrapped around him from behind and she propped her chin up on his shoulder to whisper in his ear:

“So, Flyboy, are you going to take me for a ride today?”

TBC?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #romantic fluff #whether the primary romance is with One is up for debate tho #happy birthday Scott #future thunderbirds #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

[ravenquing]

14 year old me deserved better

we shouldn't have been bullied, our parents shouldn't have emotionally neglected us, we shouldn't have been allowed free reign on the internet

i have irreversible trauma all because my parents didn't understand the difference between giving shelter & food to someone and real parenting

i felt abandoned and unloved and pushed away and hated

i felt utterly worthless to, and unwanted by, the very people who had fought to have me

my parents went through IVF to have me, you know, and yet my whole life I've never really felt loved or wanted by them

i ended up so alone and scared i fell into an older person's trap and was hurt in ways that i didn't understand back then

i felt so broken and discarded, like i truly had nothing left to give to anyone else

it really fucked me up

i understand how this all happened and it sickens me

i hate that some parents hate their children and hurt them internationally, i hate that some parents don't know love and therefore can't give it to their own children in the future

i hate that people refuse to accept that girls can be evil and predatory, i hate that we treat victims as criminals even if they "followed every rule"

its no wonder i gave up on my education in the end

its no wonder i stopped living

im stuck and I feel helpless

i was talking to people, I was getting help, I was making progress (and technically i still am but not in ways that truly help in the long run) but it got too overwhelming and i just fucking shut down again

i feel trapped in a body that doesn't belong to me

it never did and never will

i feel trapped in a cycle of anger and sadness and sickness and exhaustion

5 10 15 20 25 30

i feel so fucking stuck

so fucking done

i woke up at 6am today and i couldn't fall back asleep

i trued writing it off, literally by writing fanfiction, and I've refreshed tumblr and twitter so many times since I woke up that in kind of sick of them

its now 8am and I feel dead

but not energy wise

just emotionally unwound

I'll probably feel better after i have some water and talk to my boyfriend, knowing me

but i wanted to talk about how just fucked everything feels

i feel like a vase someone smashed into smithereens and that was put back together with paper mache and string

her name kills me almost every time I see or hear it now

i think i might hate myself less than her these days, honestly

she stole my innocence and my trust and my childish love

she robbed me of a colour, of a book series, of a movie, of a flower and of so much more

she probably doesn't even remember me anymore, if she's still alive after everything

i don't know what I'd prefer

5 10 15 20 25 30

would i rather she got help and found love and happiness?

would i rather the opposite?

i feel too tired to care

she's not the last, nor am i certain she was truly the first

but she ruined me in ways nobody else could dream to

she left a sickness in my veins that i cant get rid of

its almost become lovely

i would miss it if it were gone

the hate is ugly and hisses, but i take comfort in its heat

maybe i am broken, maybe she broke me, maybe

i woke up today with terrible thoughts of things i dont want to do to myself or to others

thats fucked up

i can't remember if i was always like this or if she did this

maybe its both

5 10 15 20 25 30

all i know is that im tired

i want to stop hurting

i want to stop being scared

i want to stop being angry

i want to stop being sad

i want to stop being so tired

i just want to live and love

i love people, i do

i hate feeling such strong hatred that im not so sure is even really my own

i just want to be happy

i feel sick

#im safe #i just need to vent #already calling my boyfriend #please don't worry #just brain busy must yell #cw whatever the fuck this is #how do i tag this shit #triggering content #is this the ocd or the trauma? is it both? (: #vent #aaaaaaaaaa #cw child neglect #cw intrusive thoughts #cw grooming #i guess??? feels wrong to me but i think?? #im so fucking tired #will probably delete later

[silentmoths]

When will I see you again? (In your dreams)

Writing fairy chose violence today, I don't usually write a lot of angsty stuff so idk if im actually any good at it but here you go kids.

Now I wish i knew what it was called, but this is actually based off an old animation i remember, likely a college final thesis work so I cant claim all the spain for it but I hope yall like it.

Zhongli x Afab Reader

Hurt/very little comfort, angst, modern setting

Your parents were fighting...again.

It was never anything new, the status quo always seemed to dictate that every time you trudged through the door after a long day of college classes, they'd be at eachothers throats, yelling about something.

Money, the car, house maintenence, affairs.

You just...wished they'd hurry up and get divorced...only a couple more months and you could finally move out, leave all of this behind.

but until then, you slink past their screaming mach in the kitchen and up the stairs to your room; your safe haven, and you immediately crawl into bed for a nap.

As soon as you descend into sleep, a hand brushes your cheek and you immediately feel at home.

"How was class?" The familiar, warm, deep voice beside you asks as you simply lay in the grass, content to let him pet your cheek and your hair.

"Long..."

"Are they fighting again?"

"when aren't they, Zhongli?" You sigh, finally fluttering open your eyes to look up at him.

Of all the things that were a constant in your life, Zhongli was definitely the prettiest.

He'd been here, in your dreams, since you were a child. When you'd begun to make your own world to retreat to when your parents raised their voices. A calm, comforting presence that loved you and wanted you.

No one cared to hear about Teyvat, and all it's whimsical glory, all the interesting characters and magic; they all said you were crazy, it was just make-believe and you would grow out of it.

Yet here you are, nearly twenty-two, and still escaping to this world whenever you could.

Zhongli smiles softly, and leans down to press a kiss to your nose, laying to settle beside you so you could shuffle into the warm familiarity of his chest, hear his heartbeat and feel his breath.

"Soon, darling...you are still planning on moving next semester, no?"

"yeah...my friends are organizing a place..." you confirm "and then I'll be outta here..."

Zhongli hums and nods, long fingers playing with your hair. "I do hope you'll continue to visit me."

You snort, looking up at him "Of course I would, every time I fall asleep."

---

A month to go.

Just one more month of dealing with three-am screaming matches.

Between studying for your exams, assignments, and your parents godawful screaming, sleep had been hard to come by.

You tell the doctor as much, leaving out your parents fighting. She taps away at her keyboard, eyeing you up and down as you fidget nervously in your chair, the bags beneath your eyes dark and prominent, the anxious energy overflowing; you can tell she's trying to figure out if you're just bluffing for drugs, but eventually she nods and hits print.

"One of these a night, fifteen minutes before bed, do not take more than one a day, I know its nearing the end of the semester so I'll give you a single repeat, and then if it's still a promblem, come back and see me." The doctor sighs, handing the prescription for sleeping pills to you. you take the sheet gratefully and scuttle away.

Zhongli is waiting when the pill kicks in that night, pulling you into his arms and simply swaying with you a while.

"I thought you were avoiding this place." He sighs, nose contently buried in your hair. "Avoiding me..."

"never." You croon, content at being held and loved, burying your own face into the crook of his neck "I was trying so hard to come back..."

"Is it getting bad?" he asks, you nod. He does not question any more, arms shifting to scoop you into his arms.

"Soon, my darling." He reassures, you nod, praying he's right.

---

You'd failed the exam.

You stare despondently down at the mark, it's horrible, it's so bad that your professor has even scribbled a comment in red marker.

'I expected better of you'

that stings.

you'd have to go see him later, ask if there was a makeup exam or some extra credit you could do, something, anything, to imrpove your mark; but for now you needed to meet up with your friends, to sort out moving dates.

--

"do you really want her moving in?"

"Pshh no! I said it to be nice I didnt actually expect her to take the offer! hell I'd prefer you moved in instead! She's a freak! always talking about her stupid make believe world. It was cool when we were kids but now? Now it's just sad. she needs to get laid or something..."

Your 'friends' dont see you, pressed against the wall, dont see the tears spilling over your cheeks, hand pressed to your mouth to muffle your sobs. When you do finally make yourself known to them, they just...look at you.

Theres no remorse in their eyes or in their words, apologies halfhearted and shrugged off with a 'but it's kinda true though'.

you turn and leave the campus.

--

Your mom finds your grades.

She's screaming, at you now.

And when your dad gets home? well, for once they agree with something, they scream, but not at each other; at you.

"If you think we're going to pay for failing grades, you have another thing coming!" your dad shouts, they do not pay your tuition, you do.

"Pull your head out of your ass before we pull you out of school!" your mother adds, they cannot pull you out of school they do not pay your tuition.

when they're finally done yelling at you, they once again turn back to echother, blaming one another for their failing daughter, as you trudge up the stairs, fingers rubbing the red hand-shaped mark on your cheek as you drop your bag and shut the door.

what were you meant to do now?

You feel your resolve crumbling away.

---

Your little world seems to be...crumbling a little when you finally open your eyes.

Zhongli looks over his shoulder before rushing to you and helping you up, pulling you close.

"Darling, what's going on?" He asks, frantic as you smile softly up at him.

"Oh Zhongli...everything's wrong..nothing is alright..." you whisper as Zhongli looks around, frantically as buildings and scenery crumble around him.

"What did you do? what's happening?"

"I took them. all of them"

"Took what, darling?"

"The pills."

You watch as Zhongli's eyes grow wide with horror.

"The Sleeping pills!? Darling why? why would you do that!?" His voice shakes as he sits you down, prying your mouth open and jamming two fingers right to the back of your throat, but this is nothing but a dream, there was no gag reflex to found.

"So I could stay here, with you...forever." you whisper, smiling up at him, reaching shakily for his face to wipe away a single, golden tear "Dont cry, Li...we can..be together now...just like we were meant to."

"Darling-" He chokes out, pulling you close as the very fabric of this reality begins to collapse around them "You're dying! you have to wake up! if you dont..."

You shake your head, leaning your face into his chest as he curls around you "I dont...I dont ever want to leave...never again..please...stay with me?"

His tears are warm as they splash across your cheeks, but he takes a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in his throat before settling beside you, holding you in his arms as he manages a small, sincere smile and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Every time I fall asleep."

taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @rjssierjrie want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask!

#Silentmothwrites #moth is not silent #Zhongli genshin #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x reader angst

[late-night-tourist-attraction]

#25

The villain rolled their eyes as they pushed the dull blade away from their throat.

" I think I might actually die for real this time if you say another crappy one liner like that to me again." The villain said with a disgruntled huff.

The Hero looked on with downhearted yet offended expression.

" oh come on villain, that was a good one!" The hero said with great effort.

" clearly not good enough." The villain had said with a tired yawn.

"Honstly, I think I need a nap." The villain had said while stretching out on the floor like smug cat. " I don't think I have enough energy to mach your stupidity today." The villain had lazily said with another yawn.

#creative writing #villain prompt #hero prompt #hero #hero and villain #villain #villain and hero #late night tourist attraction prompt #villain x hero #my writing #hero x villain prompt #hero and villain community #just a funny little dabble #villain friend #hero friend? #maybe?

[laslow]

After the long and treacherous travels across distant lands of different shapes and sizes to find her son from a different life- Olivia finally reaches her destination upon the gates of Garreg Mach. The snow flurries sprinkle the crowns of two, and Olivia couldn't help but smile quietly to herself of how thematic it would seem to finally greet her lost child on his birthday.

Where was his whereabouts? She couldn't be so entirely sure. First she and her partner ought to settle themselves right in, the formalities and rules to be followed and such. Olivia is reminded of Emmeryn's presence and sacrifice as she thinks about the backbone of the Academy- the arch bishop who has ambitions to unite these countries. Olivia learned a lot about Fodlan by their most unlikely tour guide, Henry.

The two were allowed to enter past the gates, and the dancer observes the merchants and artesians taking stock for the morning. All too shy to give them a simple wave of hello.

Olivia grips her cloak for support, hoping she would find the courage to greet Inigo and remind him that he isn't alone.

The hallways of the academy were grand and ornate, with banners and scarlet rugs for decor. There were plenty of students and faculty, conversing in groups as some make their way towards their destination.

Olivia started to wonder about the trail of possibilities, but all halts when she takes a glance of a familiar form from what feels from so long ago. Abruptly, she drops her satchel and comes running up the stairway, shouting out their name. " Inigo!" With once timid steps with their eyes averted - she kept her focus straight ahead. " Inigo! " She didn't know she had it in her to run as fast as she did, to wrap her arms to cling so fast in a room filled with people. Olivia usually would consider her actions before making them, but she was so happy to finally find what she was looking for. A family.

" My baby… Oh! Happy birthday! " There were dew drops spilling down her cheeks, but she wasn't afraid to look at him. As she tugs at his cheek.

The moment was spontaneous as it ended just as abrupt. There were people around these halls and a few students were curiously observing. Olivia had to pull herself away, rubbing her bicep to quell her anxiety.

"Um.. my apologies, I happened to get carried away in my excitement…. Oh! I do have a present for you though, where--" she looks for her satchel and realized she dropped it down the stairs.

Thankfully it wouldn't become lost, for Henry kept a watchful eye over it.

His birthday always brings with it mood swings.

Excitement, of course, for he's always loved celebrating another year of bringing smiles to those around him. (And the mere fact he's still alive is a bonus.) Melancholy follows close; for every joyous laugh, a pang of loneliness echoes in his heart. While the celebrations of his childhood are nothing more than a dim memory, he's never denied he's sentimental.

So he wanders the halls of the monastery with a fresh flower crown atop his head and a dazzling smile fixed firmly in place. He will not succumb to depression so early in the day if it's the last thing he does.

Laslow waves merrily at everyone he passes, social energy be damned. There'll be plenty of time to recover tonight when only the stars serve as his company. It's tradition, after all, performing Mother's dance today. Both versions if he can manage--some years are easier than others emotionally.

There's a distant thump that he pays no mind. Probably a merchant's bag of wares or some such. Laslow continues on his way, though the spring in his step has faded. Instinct, perhaps, alerting his senses that something has changed.

The voice calls. He stops short. It's a dream. Has to be; no way that today of all days, mom--

Her voice rings out loud and clear. Laslow pivots on his heels in time to throw his arms open wide. "Mother!" He staggers back a step as she crashes into him, wrapping his arms tight around his greatest hero.

Cool fingers pinch his rapidly flushing cheeks. But he ignores the rising flare of anxiety at so many pairs of eyes on them; so what if he's sniffling because his mother appeared out of the blue on his birthday?

Mom pulls away far too soon, a mirror of his own hidden embarrassment. "You're here," he says in elated disbelief, reaching for the hand rubbing circles in her arm, free hand rising to brush away the tears lining her cheeks. "It's alright, Mom. Wait, seriously? You didn't have to!"

He squeezes her hand once. "All I could ever want for my birthday is you and Father." Then the rest of her words register, and he sees a familiar figure scooping up the straps of a leather satchel.

Now his vision turns watery. "...You both came?"

[pt 2!]

#CRYING. TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE. #support: olivia #laslow bday 2023 #when i say i've been thinking about this all day #i'm in fine form today! [asks]

[obsidiendo]

@aglaean said: It was quiet. Too quiet. Or at least, it would've been too quiet, had a certain princess not deigned to go for a stroll. L'Arachel's triumphant stride made the cobbles of Garreg Mach tremble underfoot; flinging forth her inexorable approach with heavy staccato. Of course, her cherubic pace aside, it seemed that as of late, students did not linger between classes. She had found no wayward souls to redirect, no questions in need of answers, no misled 'teachers' trying to drag her back to classes that she was beyond now. Clearly, many were not yet aware of her recent promotion! She was a co-educator now. And it was a role she bore with the stature befitting it. Finally, someone had recognised her innate magnificence! She'd even made her own badge! It had taken her several hours, and needle-jabbed fingers, but she bore it with a pride that was, undoubtedly, justified. As part of her duties, she had taken it upon herself to slip into other's classes and observe. After all, to deprive the other houses of her many, many, sparkling insights would be unforgivable! Scanning the empty halls for activity, her eyes alight on a crowd shuffling towards an open door. Ha! Skipping ahead, she passes the line of students winding it's way around a corridor, and steals into an unfamiliar classroom. Inside, she is greeted with none other than Duessel, the Obsidian, noble general, and defender of Magvel. Nought can halt the dramatic gasp that is always primed behind her lips, or slow her pace as she bounds towards him. 'Sir Duessel! Happy are the fates for re-uniting us once more!' She smiles, with a signature brashness that against all odds, is somehow dainty. 'Much has changed since we have parted ways - you see, I too have taken the path of the instructor!' With a gesture entirely disproportionate to the slightly shaky strip of cloth with her name embroidered on it, she holds out her Co-Educator Badge(TM) to him. The rest of the class awaits at the door, silent, but resigned. Despite what she believed, news, or rather, warnings of L'Arachel's new position had spread.

It is time for class, and Duessel is of course prepared for it. Today they are going to have a little exam -- part practical, part written -- and combine what they learned about the lance with what they've learned about horse riding.

Many of the students are groaning about the inevitability of being tested, but Duessel wants to ensure they were ready for the cavalier exams. No use in attempting something that was bound to fail, and he would ensure a one hundred percent success rate. He had promised this to his students, and he is still serious about it.

He watches as they take their seats, but looks up as he hears a familiar voice. He smiles, because L'Arachel's energy is one that is unmatched by others, and he cannot help but feel a bit lighter in her presence. It's surprising that he hasn't seen her here yet, but perhaps the separation of houses makes it more difficult to know all the students than he was aware of.

When she holds out her badge proclaiming her status as a 'co-educator' ( something Duessel has, admittedly, never heard of ) he raises his eyebrows and makes the appropriate sounds of affirmation. She looks proud, and thusly: he is proud for her.

"I had no idea you were also teaching here," he says. "Are you a professor for a different house, then? If you would like to observe my class, feel welcome to. Today is going to be more of an exam, but I could use the assistance if you have the time."

He assumes this is what she would like, and indeed it is something he would appreciate. He motions for her to follow him to the front of the classroom. "I trust you've been well?"

#the obsidian of the imperial three ● ic. #support ● aglaean. #learn with lady l'ara and sir duessel ● thread. #l'ara im obsessedwith you i love how you write her mabel

[autisticsupervillain]

Complete Monster Throwdown!

The show where we take two Pure Evil Monsters and make them kill each other!

Today's Monsters....

Fire Lord Ozai vs Emperor Belos!

Conditions:

Sozin's Comet Ozai vs Season 1-2 Belos

Scenario:

While experimenting with glyphs one day, Belos discovers a way to access other worlds. Discovering the world of Avatar, Belos decides that Benders are yet more witches in need of purging and launches a full scale invasion of the Fire Nation.

Analysis: Ozai

Water. Earth. Fire. Air. For a time, these four elements lived in harmony. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. This sparked a hundred year war that plagued the entire continent, as the ruthless militaristic empire the Fire Nation had become waged brutal war against all who opposed them. The Air Nomads were wiped out. The impenetrable city of Ba Sing Se was sieged. And the Fire Lord was soon feared by all.

Yet, for all the Fire Nation's atrocities, no Fire Lord was ever more feared or more brutal than Fire Lord Ozai.

Born fifty five years after the Air Nomad genocide, Ozai was the youngest and less appreciated son of Fire Lord Azulon. Cast in the shadow of his brilliant older brother, the legendary General Iroh who sieged Ba Sing Se, Ozai knew he would never defeat his brother on equal footing. Not in the race to become Fire Lord, at any rate. So, Ozai had his wife murder Azulon and then banished her as a traitor, leaving him with no obstacles between him and the throne.

It is this same ruthless ambition that made him dreaded all across the world, even to his own family. Ozai burned and permanently scarred the face of his son Zuko before banishing him forever for objecting to the cruel actions of his generals and manipulated his daughter Azula into becoming a perfect conquering machine and soldier by the age of 14. His older brother abandoned him in digust for his actions, leaving with Zuko to accompany him in his banishment.

With such little compassion to spare for those he supposedly loves, it's hardly any wonder that Ozai would go to equally monsterous lengths on the grand scale. He fully intends to incinerate the entire Earth Kingdom, as well as every other nation that dares to oppose his rule. And as the most powerful fire bender on the planet, there was no doubt that he could achieve exactly that. Even Iroh himself didn't believe that he could defeat Ozai, especially not during Sozin's Comet.

Sozin's Comet is an event in which a large comet briefly enters the Earth's atmosphere, allowing Fire Benders to harness it's energy. The drastically boosts the power of Fire Benders during this time, to the point where Iroh was able to blow straight through the walls surrounding Ba Sing Se, which would require a force roughly equivalent to 138 tons of TNT.

Source:

And Iroh did that with ease. Even far weaker Fire Benders outside of Sozin's Comet can achieve similar feats, such as when "Combustion Man" vaporized a massive cone of water, requiring an energy of roughly 2.2 kilotons to vaporize. As the strongest Fire Bender in the world, Ozai should be far superior, especially during Sozin's Comet.

Source:

Of course, Ozai isn't all brute force. He has a wide variety of fire bending techniques at his disposal. He can manipulate and create fire in all sorts of ways, from shooting it from his fists to using it to fly through the sky at hypersonic speeds and creatings massive flamming rings around his entire body. Hell, he can even breathe fire if he wants to. They don't call his brother "The Dragon of the West" for nothing!

And, of course, he has full access to the deadliest move in a Fire Bender's arsenal. Lightning. A guaranteed instant kill on anyone and anything it hits. Though the issue with that incredible power is... it can potentially be reflected back. Provided you can move at Mach 2458! As that's how fast Aang had to be moving just to catch one of Ozai's blasts.

Source:

Ozai may very well have been the most powerful bender of his era period, as he was fully capable of taking on even the Avatar Aang himself, master of all four elements, and outright dominating him in open combat. Until, well, the Avatar State was activated. For as mighty as Ozai is, he is but a flickering candle against the full might of the Avatar State.

Ruthless. Abusive. Imperialistic. Ozai represented the absolute worst of what the Fire Nation had become. Beneath all of that strength and guile exists only a callous, ambitious bully. The true antithesis to everything the Aang is and stands for.

Analysis: Belos

The Boiling Isles are not a kind or welcoming place. The seas and rain boil hot enough to melt a man's skin. Rainbows can turn you inside out. Monsterous beasts roam the land and the closest civilization floats on the corpse of a long dead Titan. Yet, the most dangerous threat any human can face is the mysterious masked witch who calls himself Belos... and the monsterous man he is underneath.

Philip Wittebane was your average 1600s American colomist when he and his older brother Caleb moved into the small town of Gravesfield. They both found themselves quickly adjusting to the town's local culture and practices, developing a taste for witch hunting at an early age as a result. This passion, however, was derailed in adulthood when the brother's happened upon an actual witch. The beautiful sorceress Evelyn who hailed from the mystical Demon Realm captivated Caleb with her beauty and magic, convincing the older Wittebane to follow her to home realm.

Believing his brother to be under a dastardly spell, Philip followed suite to save his brother, only to find the two happily married and expecting a baby. Caleb and Evelyn had genuinely fallen in love. Unable to reconcile his puritanical beliefs with the reality before him, Philip murdered his brother Caleb in a fit of rage and swore to annihilate all witches everywhere. No matter how many years it would take and how many brothers he would have to bury.

As a human, Philip could not use magic naturally by himself. Witches have bile sacks next to their heart that stores magic within them, but humans have no such thing, so Philip had to find alternatives. As such, he taught himself how to use glyphs, using the language of the Titan in written form to harness the magic emitted by his corpse. Other humans use glyphs written on pages or the environment to cast spells, but Philip took a bit of a shortcut. By carving glyphs directly into his own body, Philip could cast magic with nothing but a thought. Similarly, Philip found an exploit in the laws of magic that would allow him to cheat death itself. By feasting on the souls of a witches Palismen, or staff, Philip could live for hundreds of years, feeding off the magic of the thousands of souls trapped within his body.

However, these practices had disastrous side effects on his body, causing him to literally melt alive if he didn't regularly consume more and more Palismen, to the point of eating them to extinction. As such, Philip had a time limit on his goal, so he'd need a little help. Upon discovering the god-like being known as The Collector, Philip used their guidance to master all forms of magic and launch his master plan.

Philip took on the name Belos and set his thousand year plan into motion. Firstly, he would revive his brother as a "Grimwalker", seeking to mold this new version into a perfectly loyal witch hunter to fit Belos' own personal ideals. The corpses of thousands of failed attempts litter his layer, showing how little cares for a brother who doesn't obey his every whim. Then, Belos would create the coven system, convincing every witch in the realm to let him brand them with a coven sigil that seals away their ability to use any magic outside of their covens. Then, finally, he would enact the Day of Unity ritual, using the sigils to suck the life out of every witch on the Isles, killing all of witch kind.

To this end, Belos ironically became the most powerful witch of all time. He is known to have access to fire, ice, and light glyphs, allowing him to blast you with massive flames, create huge mounds of ice, and create floating orbs of light. He can create shields to protect himself from harm, manipulate plant life to his will, and telekinetically ragdoll you with just a thought. His telepathy can reach across his entire palace and his teleportation lets him cross the battlefield in seconds.

Luz Noceda, another human who uses magic, was able to make a massive wall of ice almost the size of a boat. Given the energy needed to freeze the boiling hot waters of the Boiling Isles, creating this ice would've required an energy roughly equivalent to 7 kilotons of tnt, and Belos is literally decades ahead of her, to the point of tanking her attacks without a scratch and nearly petrifying her in stone.

Source:

Similarly, numerous witches have shown to be fast enough to dodge lightning, such as Eda Clawthorne avoiding lightning directly from the sky, and Belos is easily superior to her to a similar degree, allowing him to move at Mach 678.

Source:

However, all of this power has come at a grievous cost. If Belos were to go too long without eating a Palismen and runs out of magic to sustain himselfwith, he'll melt into a rotting green slime monster. While this constant rot has given him the ability to stretch his limbs and shapeshift to a degree, the fact that he has such abilities at all shows how bad his condition has gotten. If reduced to his full on slime monster state, Belos will be forced to possess other beings to sustain himself, rotting away and consuming his hosts into lifeless skeletons for months until he's forced to find a new one. But, even then, he's remarkably difficult to put down, as he could still pull himself back together even after being smashed into a puddle by the Collector. Yet, in this state, his death is essentially garranteed. He'll run out of life to consume eventually and he'll eventually melt away into nothing. A perfect metaphor for the soulless parasite Philip Wittebane is under his benevolent fascade.

Throwdown Theme:

Throwdown Breakdown:

Oh, boy. Imperialism vs Puritanicals. Alright, first off, Stats.

They are pretty equal in terms of AP. Ozai is far above Combustion Man at 2.2 kilotons, and then stronger again by virtue of Sozin's Comet. Belos meanwhile is effortlessly stronger than 7 kilotons, down to tanking hits from someone that strong without a single scratch. Fairly comparable, with a slight edge to Belos.

Ozai has a much greater advantage in speed, however, with Mach 2458 against Mach 678. About a 3.6x speed gap. That's a pretty significant advantage for Ozai and it stacks atop his other ones.

Flight and range are pretty decisively both in Ozai's corner, which, when combined with his significant speed advantage, means both hitting him and avoiding getting hit by him are going to be a right pain for Philip. In fact, you can very well argue for Ozai ending this quickly with a quick lightning bolt before Belos can pull his other trump cards. However, I'm not gonna be making this argument.

I'm not entirely convinced that a lightning bolt would be enough to kill Belos in one go like it would be for anyone in Avatar. Sure, it'll do horrific damage to his brain and heart... but Belos could survive being smashed into a puddle by the Collector and that was while severely weakened. Hell, he survived up to the point of being just a skull and that was without any of his magic or Palismen left to sustain himself. Lightning alone isn't gonna cut it. Ozai will have to keep blasting until he's vapor.

Which, to be fair, is well within Ozai's character. He has some good counters to chunks of Belos arsenal. Flight can pretty handly keep him away from Belos's plants, Ozai can throw his fire right back in his face, and ice glyphs don't offer anything new that Ozai wouldn't expect. But, by that same token, Belos has tons of powers Ozai would have no context for, as they simply don't exist within the magic system of his world.

Teleportation can help bridge the speed gap somewhat while shields further increase the (slight) stat gap. Telekinesis can help hamper flight and speed (even if I don't think Ozai would be ragdolled. He's comparable enough to resist it somewhat.) and shapeshifting is just good for catching Ozai off guard amd getting a lucky punch in. A major advantage here for Belos is that he'd likely just assume that Ozai is a really good fire magic witch, while Ozai would have no idea what to make of most of Belos's kit. Especially teleportation and shapeshifting.

Of course, the problem with the shapeshifting is that it would likely invite Ozai to go hand to hand if Belos drags him in. Belos may have been alive longer, but nothing indicates he's ever gotten into any hand to hand fights with people during that time. Ozai very much has. It's a core part of Fire Nation culture even. Though, even then, Belos can just teleport away. Oh and I doubt Belos is gonna try and brand him with a coven sigil mid fight. Even if he did, it wouldn't do anything because that's not how Bending works. Ozai doesn't have a bile sack to drain.

Can Ozai wear Belos down until he's reduced to shambling slime? No. It took months of not eating Palismen for Belos's condition to get that bad and even then, he had to have all his magic drained by the Day of Unity first. Sozin's Comet will finish passing before that happens, so the long game screws Ozai over more so than Belos. Assuming the fight would even last that long or that either could even keep fighting that long.

What ultimately makes this admittedly close fight Philip's game is intelligence. Ozai, while skilled, deadly, and manipulative in his own right, has only been Fire Lord for six years and it's an empire he inherited after one assassination. Belos has been ruling for fifty years and he built his empire from scratch over the course of hundreds. He's been alive since the 1600s up until modern day. Manipulating people like Ozai is second nature to him and he's silver tongued enough to at least get Ozai listening long enough to strike. He's an expert at buttering people up with compliments and Ozai has an ego the size of Transylvania. I can see Philip feigning defeat and going into a whole spiel about how "it was the Titan's will for the mightiest to defeat me. You shall inherit the Boiling Isles." and then drop the fascade to reveal that Ozai's legs have turned to stone.

That's the other clincher here. There is fuck all Ozai can do about being turned to stone and Belos can activate said power by thinking. Hell, Belos also has an advantage in how much skill and knowledge it took for him to learn his techniques. Ozai's fire breathing and lightning bending are some of the most complicated and advanced forms of bending out there, but Ozai didn't invent them. He's never demonstrated the aptitude and intelligence needed to invent whole new forms of magic like Belos has. Philip is the first person we know of to create and use Glyphs who isn't a Titan and even before he met the Collector, Philip could create highly advanced glyphs that could teleport him kilometers away. Hell, Belos created the Day of Unity spell himself and spent countless years testing and perfecting it. That shows that Belos has a much deeper understanding of magic than Ozai has of bending. It's like if Ozai himself invented the technique needed to harnass the power of Sozin's Comet or something. It's magic on a continental scale. The fact that the Titan tried to actively hide the secret of Glyphs from him and Philip figured them out anyways shows the level of intelligence that Belos is bringing to the table here.

Belos is versatile enough to not be overwhelmed by Ozai's offensive immediately. His telekinesis can hamper Ozai's movements just enough to hamper flight and speed (which are Ozai's biggest advantages), his regeneration would let him survive the lightning and the beating he's sure to get, his shields can help bolster his slight stat advantage (and mitigate the issue of dodging giant walls of fire that are faster than him), and petrification is an auto win. Combine that with a vast experience and intelligence advantage and Belos just takes it.

Is Philip gonna get the absolute shit beat out of him before gets there? Oh yeah. You saw his fight with Aang, you know what Ozai does. Imagine that but Ozai is three times faster. But, still, Belos just clinches it.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Emperor Belos!

#fictional throwdown fridays #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house #avatar the last airbender #fire lord ozai #complete monster #complete monster throwdown #Youtube

[usafphantom2]

Here’s why Soviets never developed their own SR-71 and why the MiG-25 Foxbat was never as fast as the Blackbird

By Linda Sheffield Miller

Feb 26 2023

The Soviets did not have the technology to make blades that could tolerate as high temperatures as the J58 turbine. As a result, the MiG-25 Foxbat flew slower than the SR-71 Blackbird.

No reconnaissance aircraft in history has operated globally in more hostile airspace or with such complete impunity than the SR-71, the world’s fastest jet-propelled aircraft.

From 80,000 feet, the SR-71 could survey 100,000 square miles of Earth’s surface per hour cruising at Mach 3+ (three times the speed of sound) or over 2,000 mph.

The Blackbird’s performance and operational achievements placed it at the pinnacle of aviation technology developments during the Cold War.

Why didn’t the Soviets come up with their own “SR-71” and build a counterpart warplane to the Blackbird?

‘The Soviets built the MiG-25,’ says Iain McClatchie, an aviation expert, on Quora.

Here’s why the MiG-25 Foxbat was never as fast as the SR-71 (and why Soviets never developed their own Blackbird)

‘Notice how huge those air intakes are? Compare that against a Mach 2 airplane:

MiG-29K Fulcrum

‘Dynamic pressure is what holds the aircraft up and causes drag. It scales with air density linearly, and with velocity SQUARED.

‘Air mass flow rate through the engines is what is needed for thrust. It scales with air density linearly, and with velocity LINEARLY.

‘Since the wing works with dynamic pressure, dynamic pressure can’t vary more than a factor of 5 or so during the flight. So, if you want to go fast, you have to go high, where the air is less dense. For mass flow to keep up with drag, you’ll need big fat intakes. These aren’t going to work well at lower speeds.

‘The moment we saw the MiG-25, we knew it was designed to go fast like an SR-71/A-12, whose intakes are each nearly the size of the fuselage.

The story of the SR-71 Blackbird that slid on JP7 fuel residue while taxing into Kadena Hangar

‘The other problem that a high and fast jet faces is hidden. The engine intake slows the air to subsonic flow before it goes into the compressor. The air’s kinetic energy turns into heat… the temperature rise goes as the SQUARE of velocity. The engine then has to compress that air (heating it more), and then add lots of heat before expanding it through the turbine. The turbine has to survive air heated in all three ways.’

McClatchie continues;

‘The J58 engine in the SR-71 was the first engine to use directionally solidified turbine blades, which were able to resist creep at higher temperatures than any blades before them. This is a critical technology. Without high temperature turbine blades, you cannot make a jet engine fast.

‘In fact, the SR-71 and MiG-25 are both thermally rather than power limited. Both have reserve power to climb (rapidly) at full speed. Their speed is limited by the temperature of their turbines, and not by power.

‘(These days, most turbine engines have hollow turbine blades, with “cooler” air from the compressor blown through them and out tiny holes in their leading edges. The air forms a film over the blade, insulating it from the heat of the surrounding gas. Neither the SR-71 nor the MiG-25 had these blades. Neither had the ceramic coatings we use today. These changes would have enabled an operating speed increase, but probably not more than Mach 3.6 or so).

‘As it turns out, the Soviets did not have the technology to make blades that could tolerate as high temperatures as the J58 turbine. As a result, the MiG-25 flew slower than the SR-71 (Mach 2.83 rather than Mach 3.4), and its engine did not last the 400 hours between overhauls that the J58 managed.’

McClatchie concludes;

‘That speed limit, btw, is a very abrupt speed limit. NASA squeezed a tiny performance increase out of the SR-71 by reducing engine life from 400 to 50 hours. A MiG-25 was tracked at Mach 3.2 over the Sinai in March 1971. That speed excursion would have only lasted minutes and the engines were scrapped after the flight.’

[theofficersacademy]

Songs fill the halls and hearts of the people of Fódlan. Free of winter’s frozen grip, farmers now sow the seeds of what they pray to be a blessed and bountiful harvest in four months’ time. It is the Harpstring Moon, and the glowing sun shines down on all with the warmth of a tender, caring hand, offering guidance towards the future.

At Garreg Mach Monastery, students and faculty alike are finally settling into their daily routines, energized by the season’s warmth. The town has also seen an increase in travelers, all coming in preparation of this season’s festivities.

Additions to the Current Mission Board:

A popular castletown tavern adds trendy fruit-based drinks to its menu in order to appeal to the denizens of Garreg Mach. The ploy is successful and the place has become absolutely packed, but there's one problem. Word travels far. Too far. Seemingly anticipating a wealthy onslaught of students and faculty, a watchful thief has spiked your drink with a sleeping potion and slunk away with your possessions. Wake up, find the criminal, and recover your pilfered belongings...by force if necessary. [Grants Authority +1]  

Some of the stablehands have noticed the pegasi are growing restless, wings pinned and confined to their stables due to heavy snow. But, today is one of the first days that they can finally fly! As a result, they are eager - perhaps too eager - to get out there and take to the skies. The Monastery requires all hands on deck to ensure that these antsy group burn off as much energy as possible in the window of flight they have avaliable, and have taken to asking students and faculty to assist - will you take the reins? [Grants Flying +1]  

A stray wyvern has been spotted in the vicinity of Remire Village, its aggression making it dangerous for the inhabitants to go outside, let children play, or ensure the safety of their animals. According to the reports, the poor animal appears to be missing part of its leg and carrying a grave, festering wound in its place, which likely explains its fury. Regardless of whether you decide to simply put it out of its misery, or capture it and see if anything can be done to heal it, it would seem that you have no choice but to shoot it down. [Grants Bow +1]  

Rumors of an underground opera company spreads all the way from Enbarr to Garreg Mach's own halls, describing an air like no other show. Two actors take the stage, costumed and outfitted with an assigned weapon by the opera manager, dueling to undo the star-studded button clasping one another's capes to their attire all while singing and dealing with an elaborate and dynamic stage. The mysteries surrounding this opera company are numerous: their means of production, their motives for hosting these given the lack of an audience, and the strange reports that the actors on-stage always seem to lose control of their emotions somehow... Could strange magic be afoot? You gain your opportunity to investigate when a letter of invitation is sent to you, asking you to take to the stage yourself as one of those very actors with the promise that winning the duel might very well grant you a prize you could not even begin to fathom... [Grants Any Skill +1]

#toa mission #mission: anniversary 2023

[secondsonaym]

okay with any luck i should have the next segment (or even segments) done sometime tomorrow and then i may pause on the writing for just a bit because i want to do a valentine's pic and what i have in mind may take quite a bit, so i'll need time--especially since my personal deadline would be the 13th, as a doctor's appointment on the 14th will likely blast my energy to bits.

i was having a bit of a block all day today but i think i shuffled past the worst of it and should maaaaaybe be able to takka takka at mach speed now

[indigowallbreaker]

may I have manuela consoling fleche for the three sent?

(This came to me all at once at work today. Sorry for the long wait, anon!)

Manuela wasn’t really in the mood for people. After the battle to defend Garreg Mach from the Church’s forces, Manuela felt drained. She believed in Edelgard’s cause, and she believed in Byleth-- but facing Seteth and Flayn directly like that...

With a sigh, Manuela turned her steps towards the dining hall. Perhaps some food would settle her mind and body. At the doors, however, she was waylaid by Caspar von Bergliz. 

“Professor Manuela? I need your help with something,” he began.

Manuela grimaced. “All these years and you kids still call me professor. It’s cute.”

Caspar frowned. “Uh, then how about Miss. Manuela?”

“I... like that less, I think.” She waved a hand as if to bat away the subject. “What do you need, Caspar?  

“It’s my Aunt Fleche. I don’t think she’s doing great. She hasn’t had a meal with all of us since... well, since Uncle Randolph died.” 

Manuela’s chest tightened. They had lost so many in that fight that it all blended together in her head. It was shamefully easy to forget the names and faces, and she had definitely forgotten Fleche this week. 

Caspar went on, “She sticks to the training hall during the day, and I’ve checked on her at night but she’s almost never in her room. I don’t think she’s sleeping well. I’m getting real worried, Professor.”

“I can see why.” Manuela turned the options over in her mind before settling on one. “Take me to her. I’ll see what I can do.”

Caspar brightened. “Thanks!” 

A short walk later, the pair entered the training grounds. On a bench, lance across her lap, sat Fleche. She looked up through dirty bangs as Caspar and Manuela approached. Bags pulled at her eyes, and her clothes were caked with dirt and dust.

“Hey, Fleche,” Caspar said with obvious awkwardness. “Uh, did you wanna grab dinner with us?” 

Fleche shook her head, eyes falling to her lance. “I was just taking a water break. I should get back to training.”

Caspar turned to Manuela and gestured helplessly as if to say See what I mean? Mindful of the lance, Manuela sat beside Fleche. “How are you feeling, dear?” She asked. “Any muscle pain or injuries you want me to take a look at?” Fleche shook her head again. “Would you like us to bring some dinner here? Then you can get right back to training.”

“I’m not hungry,” Fleche said. 

Caspar scoffed. “You can’t get stronger without eating! You have to feed your muscles and get energy and--”

“You heard the lady, she isn’t hungry,” Manuela interrupted. Something like betrayal crossed Caspar’s face before he turned sheepish. To Fleche, Manuela said, “If you don’t need food or healing, then I know what you do need.”

Fleche looked to her, expression flat and disinterested. “What’s that?”

Manuela wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You need a good cry.”

“Cry...?”

“Yes! Believe me, dear, it works wonders. Crying has helped me through many lonely nights.”

Felche tried to push away. “I don’t need to cry. I need to get stronger! I need to be stronger than the people who killed my brother!”

“Yes, yes, you can train all you like. After you cry a bit.” Manuela pulled Fleche back in, reaching up to run her fingers soothingly through Fleche’s unwashed hair. 

“I-I don’t want to cry!” Flech protested again, though she didn’t move. “Crying doesn’t solve anything. It won’t b-bring Randolph back.”

Manuela felt Fleche tremble and enveloped her in a proper hug. “I’m not worried about Randolph,” Manuela murmured. “I’m worried about you.”

A sob finally forced itself out of Fleche, and then the girl was gripping Manuela tight and crying into her shoulder. Manuela didn’t try and shush her-- she simply tucked her chin over Fleche’s head protectively and held her, letting tears and snot soak into her robes. The lance rolled off Fleche’s knees and clattered to the ground, but neither moved to retrieve it.

Caspar sat on Fleche’s other side and began rubbing her back. Catching his eye, Manuela saw a few tears gathering on his cheeks. Caspar wiped them away with his free hand, shaking his head as if to say they weren’t important right now.  

But they were. Caspar was coping better, but his grief couldn’t be ignored. Perhaps tomorrow Manuela would prescribe Caspar his own dose of A Good Cry. For now, the two sat in silence, and listened with broken hearts as Fleche mourned her brother.  

#fire emblem three houses #fleche von bergliez #fleche fire emblem #manuela casagranda #caspar von bergliez #scene prompt #this is almost long enough for a readmore but ive decided to make you see this #salmon im sorry but at least she's cared for?

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Auditor, Tricky, Jebus, Crackpot - Date Night

Auditor

-You’re the prize of the AAHW, climbed the ranks and bagged yourself an Employer, over everyone in Nevada, so you’re a pretty big deal. And that has its benefits, you’ve got people groveling at your feet, hoping that somehow their begging will win your heart over, and you’ll convince your lover to give them extra support.

-One of these patrons was a grunt who was running a restaurant, promising you and your lover a wonderful night on the house if he was able to get funding for renovations. The idea was charming, he went on about how before the Madness, the place used to be high class and fancy, and with a little money, it could be again.

-With that settled, you bring it up to Auditor. “Audi my darling, loving, wonderful partner,” He pulls you into his lap and brushes his cheek against yours. “Yes my dear?” You always get heavy with the praise and petnames when you’re going to ask for something, and he laps it up.

-“Another grunt came to me today with a proposition.” “Mhh.” He kisses your neck over and over, humming in content. “I’ll deal with them, they needn’t bother you with such trivial matters,” “Actually, I rather liked his idea, and was hoping you’d lend your support.”

-“Well it depends,” He’s already on board with whatever it is, you want it, you’re gonna get it, but his mind goes to the paperwork that’s going to come with it. “It’s a restaurant, I’ve had a look at the place, and with some money and elbow grease, it could make a lovely spot for routine date nights.”

-Oh yes, say less. “Consider it done, my darling.” There’s nothing he loves more than spending downtime with you, and in a romantic place makes it all the better. “I’m eager to see what we’re working with, dress up nice, we’re going out tonight.”

-You pull on your best suit / dress, draped in the finest black silks. Audi shows up dressed in a suit as well, one of his favourites reserved just for private outings with you. He takes one of your hands in his and kisses it tenderly. “You look ethereal.”

-With an armed escort, you two arrive to the restaurant and you recognise the owner, sweating bullets because oh shit you are actually here. He welcomes you, having already made an effort to make the place look nice in hopes of impressing you. There was another grunt playing violin, very classy ambience.

-Dinner is wonderful, you’re both treated like royalty, waited on eagerly by the staff, violinist playing a sweet serenade, and a decadent slice of cake to finish it off. You sit with your fingers interlaced with Audi’s, staring lovingly into each others eyes.

-“My dear, this idea of yours was wonderful. I do believe we will be attending often.” He breaks your gaze for a moment, eyeing the owner. “Consider yourself funded, now leave us in peace.”

Tricky

-“Tricky, honey love, I’m bored,” The clown was cleaning off some poor fucker’s guts off of his stop sign. “CLOWN’S MATE BORED? CLOWN COULD BE DOING SOMETHING BETTER TOO.” He puts the sign down and buries his face in your neck. His body shakes slightly as he lets out rumbling purrs.

-The drive in his brain is running at mach speed as usual, thoughts swirling around, trying to find a way to entertain you both easily. He loved just fighting, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him, and wouldn’t be able to keep up with his speed and intensity as he mowed down his playthings. No, no that wouldn’t work at all.

-A flash came into his mind, back when he was Not Tricky, the other self, loud music, flashing lights, giving in to the sounds and energy around him. “CLOWN TAKE MATE DANCING!” He was pretty sure his old haunt was still open, plus he could shake off this excess energy in a passive manner.

-“Dancing? That could be fun.” “OH YES, CLOWN LOVES TO DANCE. CLOWN’S A PARTY ANIMAL.” Plus it would spread word around that you were his, and that if anyone messed with you, they’d have to deal with a rampaging jester.

-For a change, Tricky puts more clothes on, a loose and baggy black vest, black boxers with bright neon patterns, and he finishes the ensemble with glow stick jewellery, a necklace, multiple bracelets and one around his head.

-He wastes no time in covering you in the glowing sticks too, you both look ready to rave and he jumps in excitement. “CLOWN’S MATE VERY BRIGHT. LOOKS VERY NICE, LIKE ALWAYS.” He ducks down, letting you jump onto his back, before grabbing his sign. “HOLD TIGHT, KEEP HEAD DOWN.”

-The sign tears through the earth in intense speed, your hands cling tightly to your zombie lover as he hauls you across Nevada at an incredible pace. He stops and breaks into the world above, you’re in the heart of Nevada Central, and before you stands Club Advent.

-Stepping out of the cold and into the heat of the club, you find yourself lost to the base, the bright lights, the other attendees, this is a whole different world compared to the one outside. Tricky tugs on your arm, leading you to the centre of the dance floor, surrendering himself to the music. You follow suit.

-Your bodies are close, never touching, both freely flowing with the base. All else ceases to exist, it’s just the rhythmic thumping, the lights, Tricky and you.

Jebus

-You find him in his office, thumbing through some of the paperwork Sheriff pushed off onto him, he’s so focused he doesn’t hear you enter. His head jerks up in surprise when you call his name. “Oh, hello angel. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. I’m rather busy as you can see.” “It’s rather late to be doing that, don’t you think?” You smile faintly and nod at the clock.

-“Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late. I’m sorry,” He pushes his chair back and stands with a stretch, his spine popping all the while. “Tell you what angel, how about I take tomorrow off, and we head somewhere special?” You can see in his eyes that he’s exhausted, you aught to have a word with Sher about overworking your poor man.

-“Sounds lovely, now lets get you home.” The moment you’re through the threshold, he kicks his boots off, tosses his jacket and armour to the floor and scoops you into his arms bridal style, carrying you to your joint bed. He lays you down and spoons you, one hand around your midriff, the other lovingly rubbing between your outer thigh and hip. “I’m so lucky to have you, angel.” He mumbles softly as you both drift into unconsciousness.

-You awaken as his beard tickles you, kissing down your neck and shoulder blade. “Good morning angel,” His usual husky tone is even deeper as he rouses from sleep. “‘I’ve got something special in mind for our date, freshen up while I fix breakfast.”

-While you devour his cooking, he fixes himself up, going so far as to braid his hair and brush his beard. “Been meaning to ask,” You say between mouthfuls. “where are we going?” “Mhh, I could tell you, but that would spoil the surprise.”

-Once you’re ready to leave, he picks you up and holds you tight as he levitates. Your arms reflexively wrap around his neck and you both fly though the air. You come to a stop some time later outside of a building shielded with massive iron walls. He sets you down as the double doors slowly open, and out steps a woman with long red to pink ombre hair.

-“Well well well! If it isn’t Jebby,” She greets him with a hug and turns to you, doing the same. “And you must be the special someone he’s told me allll about. You’re much prettier in person darling!” You awkwardly look to Jeb who explains. “This is Jack, she used to work with me a long, long time ago.” “And this is Eden, my life’s work post Nexus. Come, I’m about to blow your mind.”

-Jeb interlocks his fingers with yours and offers you a smile, and you both follow Jack inside. “Hope you don’t have bad hay fever.” Inside Eden is a haven, your eyes drink in everything around you, it’s a lot to take in. Lush greenery, trees reaching towards heaven, rows upon rows of blooming flowers. There’s colour in everything you see.

-“You can help yourself to some of the fruits and flowers, so long as they’re not in someone’s yard, or otherwise gated off. Please, enjoy yourselves.” Jack busies herself elsewhere and you’re left with Jeb. “…How long were you planning on keeping this place secret?”

-Blush creeps across his face. “I’ve just never really trusted someone so much to let them see this place. This is the last slice of paradise out here, and I don’t really want it’s location getting around. Think of what would happen if the wrong crowd found it.” He trailed off, thoughts spinning into darkness, until you nudged him gently. “I was joking love.” His face gets even redder.

-You spend the entire day there, slowly making your way around, admiring all the intricate little beauties in this otherworldly realm, occasionally one of you plucking a flower and weaving it into the other’s hair. You can see why he’d want to protect it, in all of the endless grey, there was a secret garden, one where you and your lover could hide from the evils outside and get lost in each other’s company.

Crackpot

-You awaken as the door opens, rubbing your eyes and checking the clock on your living room wall. 6:30pm. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again. You tiredly look up at the hallway where your partner is taking off his shoes and jacket. His head snaps round and those LED green lights bore into you. “Hey Birdie.” It was an affectionate nickname you’d given him.

-He responded with your nickname in kind. “Hello Dove.” His hands reached behind his head, and there came the telltale hiss from his mask lock releasing. You always found the Anti Dissonance mask to be unsettling, but as long as it kept him safe while he was working, you could endure it. Plus it wasn’t like he wore it at home.

-“How was your day love?” You get up and greet him with a hug. “Irritating, that bastard Christoff pisses me off with his presence alone.” Your fingers glided into his hair, he always had a serious case of helmet hair while wearing that mask. “But we’re making progress with things. Nothing you need to fret about.” He hummed softly and leaned into your touch.

-“Well, how about I treat you then?” Your hands brushed down his cheeks and cupped his face, he began cooing instinctively. “Treat me?” Truth be told, you’d been wanting to give Crackpot a night of rest, you knew damn well he worked hard, and his recent promotion had him working even harder.

-“Yeah, let’s go out.” You’d been working hard to get some extra cash to splash on him, since he made more money, he’d always offer to foot the bill for everything. His own hands covered yours, savouring the warmth and intimacy. “Very well, what do you have in mind?” “You’ll find out, go change Birdie.”

-You smuggled some of his favourite treats into your bag, and once he was changed you both headed out down town. You walked hand in hand, idly chatting about what you’d done in the day, mostly just housework.

-You come to a stop outside of the cinema, Crackpot had been going on earlier about some horror film he was eager to see. Elation flooded his eyes and his hand gripped yours tighter. Tickets were mercifully cheap, and you could waste most of your money on the criminally overpriced popcorn and slushies.

-His hand rests atop yours once seated, squeezing slightly once the music lulls, and tightly as a cheap jumpscare surprises him, involuntarily dropping some popcorn from the box. You laugh at him as his face burns red in embarrassment. You make up for it by fishing out his favourite peanut bar from your bag.

-Once its all over and you’re walking home, he keeps an arm wrapped around your shoulder, keeping an eye out for that totally legit and not at all fictional slasher who’s 100% waiting to pounce on you. For someone that loves horror, he’s an absolute coward after watching it. Hope you don’t mind sleeping with the lights on.

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat reader insert #madcom reader insert #x gon deliver to ya #jebus #jebus x reader #dr christoff #dr jebediah christoff #jebediah christoff #dr christoff x reader #tricky #tricky x reader #tricky the clown #dr hofnarr #dr hofnarr x reader

[bxldrsdraumar]

@lumenfilia asked:

"LORD SIGURD-!" 

A greeting as exuberant as the last they shared proper, though this one comes without the song of clashing metal and falling soldiers as its accompaniment. Tailtiu skids to a halt just before her lord, grin wide and eyes glittering. 

Only then does her expression shift just so, turning a touch sheepish. All of the years since last they met, the fates they had each suffered, all come crashing back. This is not so simple as a reunion. 

It is nothing short of a miracle. 

"Seems a whole lot'a people from home have ended up here, huh?" His visage doesn't twist her heart near as much as the others she had reunited with, though. Sigurd was a beacon of hope, and his was a cause that had been worth every moment she suffered for her support of it. 

"Geez, I never thought I'd see you again," laughter warms her tone, though it is not the loud or boisterous sound that is so familiar in her throat. This is soft, relieved, happy. "Been an awful long time, y'know."

She arrived in his field of vision like a thunderclap, the energy pouring off of her in waves when she said his name. Sigurd cast his mind back in a flurry of confusion, a hand coming to rest on her bicep out of instinct. 

"I..." The helplessness bubbled up in his throat as once again someone treasured came up as a blank spot in his mind – what is her name? I know her! - and Sigurd's brow furrowed. His lips twisted into a smile, just this side of half-hearted, but dripping in a kind sadness at her words. 

Yes, it seemed as though so many people from his home had made their way to Garreg Mach, for one reason or another. It felt so strange to be at the tail end of such a wave, not to be leading the charge, the symbol of the new beginnings that so many souls seemed to be seeking. 

"It has been a long time," he agreed, forcing himself to shake off the cobwebs, to gain his bearings. "Please, you must forgive me – it is clear that we are...great friends, but I... I have suffered an injury, the likes of which I have yet to fully recover. But my heart knows your spirit all the same, regardless of my fool mind." 

He gave her arm a friendly squeeze, and his smile took on an encouraging lilt. "You've done some incredible work today. I shall be watching your final battle with great interest, my friend." 

#in character #boel after hours #interaction: lumenfilia

[misselko]

BEAUTIFUL MIND

Chapter II: Persistence

Catch up here: Part 1, Part 3

Warnings: Violence and blood

Orange lilies can symbolize hatred and disdain. But they can also represent rejuvenation within the soul. This rejuvenation can also lead to new beginnings or a different path.

Days fly awkwardly after you told the truth about your parents death to Hubert. Despite never bothering to ask him to keep it between both of you, somehow you know that he will spill no words to anyone. Save for Miss Edelgard.

Hubert often evades you like a plague these days but you can feel it back in your mind that his eyes are always pinned on you. Having trained at a very young age about espionage, weapons, poisons, strategies, and magic made Hubert’s ploys an amusing mockery for you. Not to mention that he always follows you whenever he thinks that you may not know, especially on the corridor hallway at night but you decide to not say anything about it.

You can still remember it as clearly as yesterday. How Marquis Vestra slaughtered your Mother for her persistence on protecting Emperor Ionius IX until her dying breath. It was well known that their bloody fight was gruesome and deadly. Had Marquis Vestra not resort to using underhanded methods and worn her down with hundreds of his elite men, Mother would have won for sure. Therefore, he was mortally wounded and got lots of permanent injuries from that battle.

Not a day passes without the memories of Prime Minister Aegir and Count Bergliez sickening laughs that filled the air as their men burned down your house and massacred all of your loyal subjects on that bloody day. Were your Father didn’t protect and sent you to your distant relative’s house secretively at the cost of his own life, you won’t survive that mass murder. Being the sole survivor of House (F/N) always haunts you even to this day. It saddened you so much that you had to abandon your family name for the sake of your own safety. To the point that you had to enroll in Garreg Mach with your distant family’s name.

But still, you can’t shake Hubert’s pained expression as he excused himself from you that night. The whole experience left a bad taste in your mouth. However, just as you promised, you do participate in the battle as a Dark Flier.

---

Everything went well as you planned with minimal casualties on both parties. Things have been safe since you made a good use of the bow that Professor gave to you on your birthday back then in your Academy days and barely use your Reason magic today. Most of Claude’s soldiers get captured without much resistance and civilians have evacuated safely. All of those sleepless nights spent on making those molotovs and explosives sure paid off.

Billowing smoke and strong wind current make it hard to weave through the remnants of Derdriu. The smell of ashes and blood filled your nose and the smoke brought tears to your eyes. You were flying side by side with Petra when you saw Ferdinand, Caspar, Hubert, Miss Edelgard, and Professor Byleth. Things look grim as Nader and his troops cornered them while Claude is readying his Failnaught. Ferdinand had to escape and bring gravely wounded Caspar on his horseback. Petra nods at you as she parts her way and flies down to help Ferdinand to fend off the enemies that tried to pursue them.

Strong gusts of wind make it hard for you to descend between them. You saw Claude is about to shoot at Miss Edelgard and Hubert is quick to jump to shield her.

“Don’t hold this against me, OK?”

A blood-curdling shriek can be heard as Claude’s arrows lodged themselves on Hubert. Blood is flowing freely from his shoulder as Miss Edelgard is looking at him with concern.

“Hubert!!!” You shriek when Claude smirks smugly and readying his Failnaught for another attack. What if Claude knocks another deadly strike on Miss Edelgard.... or Hubert?

Raw power bursts forth as you barrel down at Claude and summon Bolting to strike at him. Bolts of energy crackle around your hands as devastating pillars of thunder explode in blinding white light torn the ground asunder and caging him. His albino wyvern gets panicked and crashes down to the ground when the Bolting licks its wings. Claude is barely able to evade his demise as he ducks out beneath the wyvern’s wings, mouth hanging agape as he watches your lightning branches on the ocean surface and electric discharge spreads out. Exploding thunder wreck almost all of the ships on the harbor and electrocute fishes, leaving devastating and shocking impact on its wake.

Destructive force of your Reason magic makes Black Eagles Strike Force and Claude’s troops agape and quiver with awe as you descend. Stumbling through the rubble and debris, you haste your way through what used to be Derdriu harbor. So many buildings had been levelled, so much had been burned... You had never meant for this to happen. But you feel relieved to know that there are little to no casualties in this war, thanks to the explosives.

A dry laugh escapes from Claude as his legs wobble. He falls to his knees and shakes his head in disbelief. But his disappointment fades when the Sword of Creator nudges against his jaw, makes Claude raise his hands high in the air. “You razed my harbor into piles of rubble and ash with those crazy explosives and almost sent me to the other world with that mad magic. The silent ones are the most dangerous and you sure live up to it, (Y/N).” He shouts at you exasperatedly. 

Claude approaches Professor Byleth and Miss Edelgard to explain that he is leaving Fódlan. He asks Miss Edelgard to show mercy to the Alliance and his former classmates and reveals that he has arranged for control of Alliance territory and resources to transfer to the Imperial Forces. You could barely get the grasp of his talk with Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth as you are calling and helping Lindhardt to heal Hubert. As much as you despise the Master Tactician for harming Miss Edelgard and Hubert, you are relieved to know that Claude is spared.

Doing your best to ignore the frightened look from Ferdinand, Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Caspar. You are quick on your feet to check on Hubert’s injuries. What if they think of me as a monster? That I’m just a heartless abomination of mass destruction? It hurts to think that you might lose your home, your last home. Your comrades—Black Eagles Strike Force.

“(Y/N). May I have a word with you?”

Soft pat on your shoulder brings you back to the present. Claude is standing behind you with a tired look. What if he wants to have his revenge on you? Claude waves his hand casually in front of your eyes, trying to get your undivided attention. You can feel Hubert’s shoulder tenses when you nod at Claude and hand the gauze rolls to Lindhardt. He only frowns and gives a handkerchief to you. “Do something about your tears, (Y/N). Overthinking will do you no good. Go on, I can heal Hubert just fine. No need to worry.” Lindhardt pauses, then rubs his chin absent-mindedly. “Just make it quick. All of this blood makes me squeamish.”

Your cheeks are soaked. Had Lindhardt not tell you, you would never realize that you were crying from the sheer panic. Could smoke really make someone cry that much? Was it because of Hubert’s wounds? Or because the dread that gnaws at your heart, thinking about scornful and frightened gaze from the Black Eagles? Your train of thought is coming to halt when Claude winks then gives you a cue to follow him.

He takes you to take a shelter underneath a tree, putting considerable distance from the others. Still, you can feel Miss Edelgard and Hubert’s gaze burning holes in your back. You don’t even have to turn around, you could practically feel fury and anger spread all over the area. Especially Hubert’s. It’s kind of unsettling, really. Clearing his throat to remind you of his presence, Claude folds his arms. “As much as I hate it, you have my gratitude for trying your best to keep the casualties at minimum, (Y/N).” He said with a lopsided smile.

“I hate unnecessary bloodshed. That’s all.”

Claude smiles at your words, his smile only gets wider as he notices Hubert sends him a murderous glare from afar. The dark mage is absolutely seething, liquid fire rushes through his veins. It does get worse when Claude flings his arm on your shoulder and leans closer. Every once in a while Claude is making eye contact with Hubert, a jaunty grin is plastered on his lips.

“I see that you have the hots for that dark mage but my best advice is don’t let him use you for Edelgard’s ambitions. Never let your heart get the best of you.” Claude whispered in a barely audible voice that made you flinch. His breath grazing at your earlobe sensually. His words sent your cheek ablaze with embarrassment. Gosh. Such blasphemy. What nonsense!!

"Not in a million years!!"

Tearing yourself from him, Claude laughs at your skittish jump. But that laugh dies down fast, his emerald eyes glinting with a hint of sadness in it. “If only you chose me instead... We could be great together, (Y/N).”

“And what..? To have you use me as your pawn instead?” You snarl at his words.

“Haha, always so bitey!” Hurt flashes in Claude’s eyes but he just nods at your comment. “....I'm sorry,” he muttered. Claude tried to laugh it off but pain and irritation flicker in his eyes briefly. Nobody would be able to see it. But you can, thanks to your trainings in the past. 

His smile disappeared as he examined you. Claude takes a quick glance at the surroundings and speaks quietly. “Take better care of yourself, (Y/N). You are as white as a sheet.”

How did he realize? Claude is really sharp as ever.

“Now... Let me give you a token of gratitude as a parting gift.” He shoots a shit-eating grin at Hubert, then leans to you and says under his breath softly. “Feel free to thank me later.” Suddenly Claude pulls you into his embrace and gives a soft kiss on your lips. Your. First. Kiss.

“C-Claude!!!” You shriek and push him away frantically. What’s going on in his head? People will get the wrong ideas with his playful, lascivious behavior! It was brief but... but!! If only Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth had not spared him! What you would not give to kill him right here and now.

“Whoaaaaa!!!” Claude shouts.

Dark Spikes T flies right past both of you. Had Claude not seen them and not agile enough, he'd be dead for sure. A large crater was formed right in between you and Claude from its impact. Heavy plumes of smoke flow from the ground on its wake. There are several deadly spikes glowing in eerie dark purple, pinning Claude’s yellow cape to the ground effectively. It’s as if they were ready to explode anytime if Claude made a wrong move or two. 

“Sorry I missed. Was aiming at your head.” Thick, dark sinister aura emanates from Hubert. He is clutching at his bandaged shoulder but still looks deadly as always. If Hubert was angry before, he is outright fuming now. Blazing dark purple flames roaring around his arms, something you had never seen before. Numerous dark orbs are dancing around the dark mage, his anger ready to rain down on Claude. And those words. Your words. That rat. Smart rat. 

You chuckle at his brazen act and give Hubert a knowing look. He just nods, a deep frown etches on his lips. Well deserved for Claude, though. That silly tactician would be a goner for sure had Miss Edelgard not ask Hubert to cease his hostility.

Why did Hubert, of all people, get so upset about the kiss, though? But your weary mind can’t think of any good reasons and decide to save it for later.

---

Stepping slowly out of the meeting room, you bid your goodbye to Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth to get some much needed rest at your quarters. Waiting for them to go away, you are rubbing your forehead to chase off dizziness that begins to consume you. World spinning on a different angle as you totter silently to your room.

Serene sounds of wind in the trees and the rustling of leaves sure help you to ignore the pain of exhaustion. Leaning on a nearby pillar to catch your breath, you watch the moonlight dance on the monastery lake. 

Your heart is a raging beat in your chest, in your throat. Only a few feet now—to your quarters, bed, rest—

A large gloved hand wraps around your arm lightly. “(Y/N).”

That deep husky voice. Hubert. Impeccable timing. Cursing under your breath, you whip around to see him. Your weariness must have gotten the best of you that you have failed to notice him stalking you. Or he does get better at his skill. Or both. You don’t bother to think. Not with this painful headache. Standing behind you, Hubert pinches the bridge of his nose with confusion on his face. “Why? Why did you save me? Don’t you hate me, (Y/N)?” His hand presses on his chest.

“....”

“Your magic... What is it? Such devastating power could bring a rise and fall to empires.”

“It’s just a regular Reason magic, Hubert. Nothing special.” You snapped at him, then turned on your heel. Excruciating pain that pounds on your skull is getting more unbearable now. Faster, faster, faster. 

“I am no fool, midget. To hold such immense power, you—"

“I was only trying to help. Now... I’m not in the mood for your ramblings, dark rat. I must take my leave now.” Your gaze flit from his bandaged shoulder to the look on his face, evidently coming to a conclusion. “You ought to get some rest as well. Good night, Vestra.” Turning away from him, you fasten your steps to go back to your quarters. Such enormous magic sure makes you feel worn out and weak, your vision starts to blurs and fades.

“Don’t just say that and then walk away.” Hubert pulls your hand but your wobbly feet give up on you. World tilts dramatically onto a sharp downward plane as you stumble on his chest. He is about to scold you but his words die down in his throat as warm wetness greets his touch. Hubert is horrified when he sees blood pouring forth from your nose profusely without you even noticing it. Bright crimson blood make such a stark contrast to your face that is as pale as fresh fallen snow.

“(Y/N)!!!” You can barely hear him calling your name frantically as your vision goes black.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe3h fanfic #hubert fire emblem #hubert #hubert von vestra #hubert x reader #hubert fluff #hubert angst #fire emblem three hopes #black eagles