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#little feral bastards saving people
flowersandbigteeth · 24 days
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Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!
This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^
I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* ( ̄ w ̄)Ψ
Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader
Word Count: 6K
TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing
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“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 
The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 
“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 
“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 
The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 
“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 
He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 
“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”
The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 
“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 
Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 
“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 
The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.
“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 
“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 
“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 
The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 
“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”
He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.
“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 
“(Y/N).”
“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
You gave him a sharp nod. 
“I do.” 
He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 
“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 
He gave you a bright smile. 
“I do.” 
The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 
“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”
He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 
“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.
You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 
“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 
He chuckled.
“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 
He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 
“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 
He shrugged. 
“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 
You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  
“Maybe I should have let you die.”
Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 
“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 
You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 
“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 
You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 
“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 
“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.
His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 
“It won’t come off.” 
You nodded proudly. 
“Exactly.”
He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 
“Interesting,” he murmured.  
“What? What does that mean?” 
He smiled and shrugged.
“Lead the way, spouse.” 
You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 
“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.
“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 
He ignored you, looking around. 
“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 
You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 
“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”
You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 
“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 
He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 
“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 
Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 
“What are you doing?” 
He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 
“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”
Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 
“How long have you been living alone?” 
You blushed, embarrassed. 
“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 
“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 
You gave him an indignant snuff. 
“At least I’m not a thief!” 
He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 
“Hey! You stole that!” 
He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 
“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 
You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 
“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 
“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 
What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 
But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 
A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 
Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 
Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 
“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 
“Sit down,” you barked. 
A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 
“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 
You wrinkled your nose at him. 
“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 
He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 
“S-sorry,” you muttered.
“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 
You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 
“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 
He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 
“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 
“Why?” 
“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”
He sighed. 
“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 
Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 
“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 
He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 
“Thanks, doc!”
“I’m not a doctor.” 
He shrugged. 
“What’s the difference?” 
“Ten years of special-”
You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.
“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 
“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 
“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 
He frowned. 
“No meat?” 
You blinked at him. 
“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 
He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 
When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 
“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 
“Why, trying to run off?” 
He smirked. 
“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 
He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 
“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
“A couple of miles in any direction.” 
“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 
You shrugged. 
“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 
He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 
“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 
Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 
“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 
While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 
You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 
“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 
“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 
“There’s a couch in the living room.” 
He wrinkled his nose. 
“It’s covered in stuff.” 
You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 
“I’ll clean it up.”
You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” 
“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 
He patted your butt for emphasis. 
“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 
Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 
“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 
“They were going to kill you!” 
He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 
“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 
“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.
Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 
When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 
“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  
He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 
“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 
You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 
“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 
Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 
“Get in,” you said. 
Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 
“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 
You let out a long sigh. 
“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”
Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 
“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”
He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 
He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 
“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 
A long sigh slipped past his lips. 
“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”
Your mouth fell open. 
“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”
He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 
“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 
“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”
He smirked. 
“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 
He pinched your chin. 
“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 
Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 
“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 
You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 
The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 
“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 
You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 
Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 
When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 
The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 
Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 
“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 
Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 
Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 
You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 
You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 
Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 
Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 
“Morning, spouse!” 
Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 
“What’s that?” 
He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 
“Meat!” he announced proudly. 
You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 
“Where are you off to?” he asked. 
“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 
A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 
You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 
“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 
A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.
“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 
“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 
Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 
“Saber! There you are!” 
She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 
“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 
“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 
When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 
“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 
You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 
“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 
She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 
“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 
Saber’s shocked face tightened. 
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 
She scoffed. 
“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 
Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 
His brow drew, looking between you and her. 
“What child?” 
She huffed, frowning at you. 
“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 
She turned to the carriage and yelled. 
“Nora, bring the baby!” 
A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 
Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 
“This…he…is mine?” 
Melody nodded. 
“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 
He glanced up at her. 
“You want to get back together?” 
She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 
“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 
Anger roiled under your skin. 
“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 
She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 
“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”
She fluttered her iridescent wings. 
“It only need be a fairy child.” 
You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 
“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 
She glanced at you. 
“What do you want? Money?”
You let out a tight chuff. 
“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 
Her eyes jerked to Saber. 
“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."
She glared at you.
"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"
Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 
“Have you named him?” he asked. 
She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 
“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 
He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 
“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 
“But Saber-” 
“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 
You jerked your chin at her. 
“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”
Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 
“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  
Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 
“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 
He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.
“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 
You smiled at him. 
“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 
The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.
“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 
He looked down at you. 
“You won’t miss this place?” 
You sighed. 
“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 
“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 
You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.
“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 
He smiled down at you. 
“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 
He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 
“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 
You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.
“I thought you lost it gambling?” 
He shrugged. 
“I lied.” 
“Why did you keep it?” 
He gave you a long look.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 
“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 
“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.
I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 
He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  
“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 
His gaze dropped to the baby. 
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”
He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 
“What about Arel?” you asked. 
“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 
You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 
“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 
He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 
“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 
Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 
Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 
“Is he okay?” 
“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 
Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.
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hp-hcs · 2 months
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i see your theo and mattheo are bottoms post so i ask of you BOTTOM 👏🏻 YANDERE 👏🏻 FICS 👏🏻 i'd go feral if you dropped any plsplspls 😭‼️
• smut • hook up boyfriend — yandere! switch! theodore nott x male! switch! toxic! reader
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look at this little bottom bitch he’s mine back off
so, my boyfriend proofreads most of my works on here, and i gave him my rough draft for this ask. he then said, and i quote, "jesus christ, [hp-hcs]. you write smut like a nun." and then he took my phone from me. so basically, this is a long winded way of saying that my boyfriend helped me write all the smexy stuff. tell me if I should let him keep helping me or if he's a god awful smut writer who should not be allowed within a hundred feet of my tumblr, mkay?
INCREDIBLY TOXIC READER JFC WHYD I MAKE YOU SUCH A MANIPULATIVE BASTARD IDK
WARNINGS: SMUT MDNI, amab reader, switch reader, implied unprotected sex w/ multiple sexual partners (you’re not magic irl. wrap it before you tap it.), lot of power dynamic changes—traditional top dom/bottom sub but also some top sub/bottom dom stuff as well, toxic shit in general, lot of manipulation, pretty mild yandere from theo, degradation, praise
i’m of the opinion that theo would be a bottom/dom just so that he could save face for posterity
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“What do you mean I can’t hook up with him?”
“Because you’re already hooking up with me!”
“So? We’re not exclusive, Theodore.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Friends with benefits. That’s it. I’m not beholden to give you my loyalty and undivided attention, dipshit.”
Theo growls and runs a hand through his hair while he paces around his dorm. You lay back on his bed, watching him with a bored expression.
“But he’s my best friend, Y/n!”
“Mhm. He’s also a damn good fuck.”
“I don’t need to know that!”
“Why not? You seem to enjoy fucking your friends, no?” You shrug, stretching out across his bed without a single care. “Maybe you ought to add Matty to your hook up rotation.”
“Matty?”
“Yeah? I’ve got nicknames for all my partners, Teddy-Bear.”
“All?!” Theo splutters. “Well- well, tell me this. Does he even satisfy you? Do you ever think of me when he’s fucking you?”
“He’s the bottom, actually.”
“Wh- huh?”
“He’s the bottom,” you repeat. “Why are you shocked? You’re well aware I’m a switch, Theo. And everyone knows that Mattheo is a Bottom-with-a-capital-B.”
A flame of white-hot jealousy heats up Theo’s skin. He grits his teeth in barely-restrained anger; it’s as if just saying the wrong thing right now would cause him to snap and go hunt down Riddle to put his head on a pike.
“I could be your Bottom-with-a-capital-B. You don’t need Riddle. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Got that?”
You snort. “No offense, Teddy, but I couldn’t see you bottoming in a million years. You’re my top hook up. I’ve got bottom hook ups so that you don’t have to do that.”
He stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, maybe it’s high time you teach me how to bottom then. I don’t want you seeing other people. Especially if it’s just because they give you something I’m too chicken to.”
You blink. “Huh. That’s some weirdly endearing possessive dedication, love.”
“I aim to please,” he says dryly, those unnervingly dead eyes of his seeming like they could see inside your soul when he stares at you.
You consider the offer before a wicked grin slowly spreads across your face. “I bet you do, darling.”
~~~
"Sh-shit! Fuck! Y-Y/n, I-"
“You gonna cum, pretty boy? Hm? Already?” He whimpers and nods frantically, his fingers scrabbling for hold on your shoulders and leaving stinging nail-bitten marks across your back.
Your teasing relents a bit at the sight of his blissed-out expression. Theo’s mouth hangs open in ecstasy, his eyes shut tightly and his back arching up from the mattress.
You groan at the sight of him splayed out under you. You grip his cock, reveling in his whimpers, and quickly start jacking him off in time to your thrusts. “C’mon, baby. You can do it. Be a good boy for me.”
His entire body stiffens as he cums with a moan that would make even a Muggle porn star blush.
You groan and start to slow down, but before you can fully pull out, he locks his knees around your hips to keep you in place.
"D-don't you fucking dare. More.”
“More?” You tease gently, hesitant to continue despite his request. “What a fucking slut you are, Teddy-Bear. Insatiable.”
He growls at your hesitance, far too impatient for that kind of bullshit.
He grips your shoulders, his knees tightening around your hips again as he uses all of that hot boy quidditch strength to roll you both over.
You let out a tiny yelp of surprise as he flips you onto your back. He whimpers loudly and moans at the shift in position, having to tuck his face into your neck for a moment while he collects himself.
Your hand moves up to comb your fingers through his hair, but he knocks it away before you can.
He sits up, supporting his weight with his hands flat on your chest, and takes a shaky breath at the shift of positions. “Want you t’ cum too.”
Your hands find his hips and grip them firmly, your breath becoming uneven as he starts to grind back and forth.
You help him raise himself up then lower his body again, listening to his sweet moans. As he finds a steady rhythm, you watch as his thighs begin to tremble.
“Merlin- I’ll never complain about you getting tired while riding me ever again. This is a fucking workout.”
“You’ll be fine. You’re not on the quidditch team for nothing.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
His face darkens.
Maybe he just doesn’t like me bringing up his teammates while we’re literally fucking, you consider. Maybe he-
“How good of a fuck is Riddle anyways, huh? Could he ever ride you like this?”
Ah.
Fuck.
Mattheo’s on the quidditch team as well.
Theo starts moving with passion, roughly slamming down on you. “I asked you a question.”
“G-god- Theo!” You gasp, caught off guard by the sudden influx of sensations.
“Answer me.”
You whine and scratch your short fingernails over his abs, marveling at the pink and red lines that bloom at the surface a half-second later. “C-could never be as good as you, love. Shit- you’re perfect.”
He shivers at the sensation and grins slyly. “Perfect, huh?”
“Perfect,” you repeat, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in for a slow kiss.
He sighs against your lips, returning the kiss. The sweet moment is cut off by you suddenly jerking your hips up into him and cursing loudly.
“Fuck- you feel so fucking good, babe-”
He gasps and his fingers claw frantically at your shoulders for any kind of support. “Merlin- I’m gonna-”
You watch as Theo’s second orgasm hits him and he goes practically boneless, slumping over on top of you.
He’s spasming around you like mad, and you can’t help but moan loudly when you cum just seconds later.
You both lay there in silence for a moment, trying to catch your breaths. Theo slowly eases himself off of your dick and rolls over to lay beside you.
“What‘s the final verdict?” You grin cheekily after a moment. “You a pillow prince now or nah?”
“Mmm…nah. I think I can settle for the label of switch though.”
“Aha! Welcome to the dark side!”
“Yeah, yeah. Shush. Now, roll over, I’m on top this time.”
~~~
“I heard you’re going steady with someone now.”
“Mm…mhm,” Theo hums an affirmative around the cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupped around the flame of his lighter as he lit it.
“Who’s the lucky fella?”
“Your ex-fuckbuddy.”
“Which one?”
“Y/n.”
Mattheo’s brow furrows. “Y/n? Y/n and I have never slept together.”
Theo suddenly launches into a coughing fit as he chokes on his lungful of smoke. “What?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong. I’d hit that in a heartbeat if he offered. But, I’m also like ninety percent sure that you’d kill me if I did that, and I rather enjoy being not-murdered, believe it or not. He is incredibly hot though.”
Theo just stared, his mouth hanging open.
You never slept with Mattheo?
What?
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
• standalone!! •
i will not be writing a part two!!
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a-libra-writes · 1 year
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If you don’t mind, may I request headcanons for the lackadaisy characters reacting to the reader(GN) saving them by taking a bullet that was going to hit them and almost dies from it?
GN reader, most of these imply the reader and character are in a romantic relationship or at least close. obvs mentions of injury, blood, morphine, hospitals etc and the angst that follows! Our kitties arent doing well :(
♣️Rocky - The fact you took a bullet for him is ... a lot. That takes processing, something Rocky isn't good at. It ends up manifesting as a long, drawn-out anxiety attack that gives him jitters, a little dissociation and mild mania. Eventually the Arbogasts asks Freckle to just get him out of the house and do something with him; they'd call when you woke up. When you're awake, the tabby is making his usual quips and chatter, but his off-kilter mood is obvious to even your morphine-addled mind. Rocky's more disheveled than usual and clearly hasn't slept. His shirt still has blood on it - your blood.
He's is ready to go absolutely feral on the person who did this, channeling all his fear and guilt into a single plan of revenge. He's so full of this manic energy that it's hard for him to keep still, let alone eat or sleep. But first! You're awake! Even if it's clear he's unwell, he's trying to smile and assure you that you'll be back on your feet in no time! So don't you worry, he and Freckle will take care of it. No amount of exhausted arguing will divert him from this.
You're stuck in bed for days, so you don't know exactly what happens. It's up to Freckle to tell you, as he went along with his cousin - but he's tight lipped about it, and fidgety, like always. Once that's dealt with, Rocky's fixating switches to fussing over you. And his heart is in the right place, but ... he's exhausted, all that lack of sleep and emotional turmoil catching up. Eventually he just passes out on the bed and you let him curl up at your side for a while. Rocky's excellent company (and a questionable nurse) in the following weeks. He has plenty of stories, music and chatter to keep you occupied.
♣️Freckle - He is, uh, not coping with this well. At all. He jumps to action to shoot whoever did this... Several times, and keeps shooting long after they're dead. He doesn't stop until his cousin calls out to him. Freckle is in something of a daze on the way to the back-alley doctor - wow, people have a lot of blood in their body, but now it's all over you - and doesn't start throwing up until the bullet gets pulled out of you.
He's sent out of the makeshift operating room because even Rocky can tell he won't cope with it. How could he? Isn't this his fault? Maybe if he reacted sooner, it wouldn't have happened. The poor guy is sleepless for days and consumed with too much guilt to visit until he's all but dragged in your sickroom by Ivy. Freckle fidgets often and struggles to look into your eyes - it goes a long way to just reassure him and promise you aren't angry. He shot the bastard who did it, after all.
He visits most days, bringing soup (his mother seems to think you have a terrible flu?) and slowly, slowly talking more and relaxing. He has a better bedside manner than he thinks; Freckle's a fairly quiet companion and has a good idea of what you need. Changing your bandages makes him feel pretty awful, but he's a good help. If you decide to continue bootlegging after your recovery, he's extra jumpy and protective of you.
♣️Ivy - Ohhh nonononono no, this is not happening. She's grabbing your shoulders and yanking you toward her, ignoring the blood getting all over her. She's a mess and doesn't even think of the danger you're both in; the bullets and gunfire keeps on all around while she holds onto you and tries to pull you to safety. Small as she is, with pure determination and adrenaline, she makes it.
You don't remember much after that, but the girl's right in your face as you slowly come to. Ivy looks a complete mess; having been crying for the the last hour, and before that watching intently while a bullet was yanked out of you. At least she washed the blood off her arms, but the clothes she was wearing are utterly ruined. Ivy alternates between chattering apologies and quiet fidgeting, even if you're too loopy to respond properly.
Eventually she has some strings pulled to get you to a nice hospital, with no one asking questions. This whole situation alters her for the worse; she gets more frequent nightmares and struggles to focus in school. Nearly every day she comes by you bring you snacks and magazines and nice flowers for your room; sometimes seeming a little frantic, like she was trying to make up for something.
♣️Mitzi - She is furious. Someone told her when you woke up, and you hear her swishing dress and clacking heels rushing down the hall. Her eyes are red, her make up is ruined and she practically shakes you. Even though you're still full of morphine, she demands you promise to never, EVER do that again. Zib has to remind her that a) you're still drugged out of your mind and b) the bandages are getting bloody.
While she'd want you in a proper hospital, they'd ask too many questions. You stay in the apartment above the cafe. She's too squeamish (and guilty) to help change your bandages, but she does bring you food, some records to listen to, an extra pillow, and so on. It's obvious Mitzi struggles to talk casually, as if nothing happened. When you're sleeping, she'll sit at your bedside. If it seems like the wound - or maybe a dream? - is bothering you, she gently pets your hair until you settle.
♣️Viktor - He's only in shock for a few seconds before instinct and absolute fury takes over. The perpetrator is not alive for long, but their last moments are painful. Not that you're around to see it - you've longed passed out from bloodloss. The only thing keeping Viktor from totally rampaging is the awareness that you're in a critical condition.
His old soldier training takes over; he's able to push emotions aside and get you to Elsa, the only one he trusts with this situation. While you're being operated on, he's still stewing. If whoever is responsible still has friends or a leader around, well, that won't be the case for long. Mordecai considers stopping the big Slovak to make him see reason ... but just ends up helping him instead. 'Keeping him out of trouble', the shadowy man claims, but really he's just as angry.
Once you're awake and coherent, it takes Viktor a while to sit in with you. He's disheveled and tired, and has trouble meeting your eyes. His bedside manner is ... basically nonexistent, but earlier Elsa walked him through the basics of what foods are best and how the bandages need to be fixed. After this, he's adamant about not wanting you on jobs any more, even if you're recovering well. The fact you took the bullet for him is even worse, in his mind. He could've taken it; you should have let him take it.
♣️Zib - Nope, he's not okay. Definitely not coping well with this situation. It's bad enough he got involved in one gunfight, now a second and this happens? He wants to get the hell out of this speakeasy. Anyone can see how jittery he is. Zib alternates between smoking too much and avoiding your sickbed, or drinking too much and sleeping by your side. When it's two am and he's resting beside you and listening to your labored breathing, he really wishes he was shot instead.
He thinks he's pretty shit at caring for anyone, but he's actually not bad, especially when he's half-sober. Helping with the bandages gets him feeling queasy and guilty, but getting food and keeping you company isn't so bad. Now and then, he asks if you still want to hang around this place - what do you think about leaving, with him and the band? If you're a triggerman for Lackadaisy, why don't you reconsider? Is it really worth it? And so on.
Expect a lot of late-night discussions when he's restless and can't keep his mind wandering. What if you had died, what if you get sick like this, what if you just left with him? Where would you all go? More than once you've fallen asleep in the middle of his talking, but he doesn't mind.
♣️Atlas - Everything is spinning, but you can feel his arms around you. You don't realize how much blood has soaked through his suit. And for the first time, you hear him shout - his voice resonates through his chest as you rest against it.
Eventually you wake up in a hospital bed, though the blanket is something from home and there's flowers all over the windowsill - wait, is that a radio? The nurses don't say much, but you're also not in a state to talk. You aren't sure if it's been one day or many, but finally he visits. He looks more tired than you've seen him, and far more solemn. He puts his hand on your's and explains you'll be leaving the hospital soon and recovering in his manor, along with a live-in nurse. This is quite a shock if you two aren't married, but if you are, it's nice to go home again. The guest room is already set up with what you need.
You don't hear whatever came of that triggerman, though the Lackadaisy staff whisper about Viktor and Mordecai being away for some time. Atlas doesn't want you about the cafe or speakeasy anymore, or out on your own in general. It'll take time for you to recover, but even longer for his paranoia and agitation to lessen. He seems the same to his business associates and employees, but those who know him better ...
🏵Serafine - She only pauses for a moment, then jumps to action. Serafine doesn't have to say anything to Nico, he's already picking you up while she mows down whoever shot you. Outwardly she's calm, inwardly she's furious. At the gunman, at herself, at you. Well, they keep a doctor on call for this reason. Serafine holds you very carefully in the car ride to the hotel, alternating between talking about revenge and reassuring you that you'll be just fine. No need to fret.
Everything's fuzzy after that. Serafine isn't there when you awaken, but you're in her bed. If you're a girl, you're probably in her nightie, too (when did your clothes get changed?). There's warm food on the nightstand, enough morphine to take out an elephant and a little vase of flowers. It's like any other morning when you wake up in her bed, well. Except the drugs and the hole in your chest.
Eventually she comes back, with more food and a disturbingly calm demeanor. Whoever that gunner was, well, they're dealt with, and so is their boss. Isn't that good news, cher(ie)? You just rest up and you'll be back on your feet. The stitches are neat and the bandages aren't too tight - understandable, considering how much she was threatening the doctor. Nico tells you all about it later.
🏵Nico - He uh, probably manhandles you more than he should as he gets you into the car. He wants to retaliate - to bash in the gunman's head rather than put a bullet in it - but Nico knows a bad shot when he sees it. He grits his teeth and keeps you in his arms while Serafine floors it, not caring how much blood gets on his clothes or white coat.
As much as he wants to sit in on the operation, it makes him restless. So he settles for pacing in and out of the room, often reminding the doctor how unfortunate it'll be for him if something goes wrong. He's quietly boiling in the perpatrator, too; by the time you're bandaged and tucked in bed, he and his sister already have a plan of retaliation. While you're still doped up and asleep, he gives you a kiss on the brow and disappears to get the job done.
Once you come to, there's flowers on the nightstand and a maid coming in with room service. You stay in the Savoy's suite during your recovery; Nico only sleeps on the couch because he moves a lot in his sleep and doesn't want to disturb you (he still naps right by your side). He's not careful enough to help with changing bandages, but he's excellent company when you're bored. Nico only laughs when you bring up the gunman. Old news, he's taken care of it. He'll even share the grisly details.
🏵Mordecai - He doesn't react to the blood immediately. His mind tells him to clear the area first - but. That's a lot of blood. He's acutely aware the bullet was meant for him. The logical side starts to short-circuit once you're in the backseat of the car, bleeding all over the coat he wrapped around you. He knows how to put pressure on a wound, and he thinks he's staying calm, but he snaps viciously at Niko to stop screwing around and drive faster.
He bothers the doctor so much while they work - hovering, observing, commenting - he gets pulled out of the room. Whoever shot you is going to be dealt with, and whoever ordered the hit. Mordecai just wants to make sure you'll survive the next few hours, as that'll determine how he deals with them.
The first few days he's agitated and not sleeping well. Mordecai alternates between fussing and fixating on your wound, and bothering the hell out of whoever's looking after you. He really doesn't settle until the gunman is well and dead, and you're more coherent and talking. Expect lots of lecturing about how stupid it was for you to get in the way, how you need to fix the bandage this way or that, and have you been eating? When Mordecai's away, the Savoys like to come in and cackle about what he did to the gunman. They were also apparently given instructions by him not to bother you, which they gleefully ignore.
🏔Wick - He's completely frozen in place, stuck by distress and panic. It occurs to him to shout for help not when more bullets fly by, but when you start coughing up blood. He has enough wherewithal to get you to the hospital - somehow driving without crashing into anything - but once you're taken away, he just crumples. He's utterly distraught.
Once his mental faculties have recovered just enough to let him stand, he paces. And paces. The receptionist in the waiting room manages to get him to make a phone call; he tries to inform Lacy to just take the day off tomorrow, but the events of the evening all come spilling out. If you both were innocent bystanders in the incident, that's one thing, but if you were involved in some criminal business and that's what put Wick in the line of fire ... well, Lacy has some choice words for her hopelessly infatuated boss.
Once you're stable and resting, he finally allows himself to breathe. The receptionist all but shoves him home because he looks like a mess and he's frightening other patients. By the time you can accept visitors he's (somewhat) rested and bringing you flowers. There's still an awkwardness, so ... at some point, talking about everything is gonna have to happen. But Wick wants you to rest first, and he needs to figure out his own thoughts, without the whiskey.
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yellowocaballero · 1 month
Text
Ashen Wolf Byleth & Teen Dad Yuri
The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”
She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.
The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.
Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly.
I need to update Weekenders but there's about twenty reasons why I haven't done it yet. But while I've been posting it I've been writing a shitton of other stuff, only some of which is decent, so I thought I'd post the beginnings of this story while I finish up the New Game+ Claude POV fic. This is most of what exists so far, and I probably won't finish it. Writing Dimitri's POV actively made me feel more insane as a person.
TW for references and flashbacks to Yuri's canon past. Around 15k of an absolutely demented Dimitri, a deeply smarmy Claude, a disturbingly feral Byleth, and a Yuri who is just doing his best under the cut.
i.
Dimitri was rapidly growing obsessed with the beautiful ghost. 
He tried to confess to his colleagues in the Blue Lions, but they just gave him sympathetic eyes and confiscated his training sword. A typical lack of faith in their leader, but Dimitri had to accept that it was well deserved. He was perfectly aware that Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, and Ingrid didn’t believe in ghosts, much less beautiful ones. Mercedes, Ashe, and Annette believed whole-heartedly in ghosts, but they thought he was being weird about it. So Dimitri was silenced, ostensibly for his own good. It was for his own good - future kings couldn’t exactly run around talking about beautiful ghosts - but it still felt like an odd form of betrayal. 
And he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. If only he had proof, Sylvain would make fun of him just a little bit less. All he had to do was be patient and wait for his time to come. Sylvain would see. They’d all see. 
The time came sooner than expected, with unexpected company. Dimitri and Claude were walking back from an important (Edelgard’s words) and mind-numbingly boring (Claude’s words) administrative meeting when he saw her again. They were walking a side path along the very edge of the monastery, using it as a shortcut between the main building and their own dormitory, and in the thick night their solitude was complete. Complete save for a shadow in the distance, darting from the forest and across the path like a minnow in a stream. 
Dimitri dropped his books in shock. Claude stopped short, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“What’s -”
“It’s her!” Dimitri cried. “That’s her! Hey - miss, please wait!”
The books and company were no longer important. Dimitri set off after her at a run, only barely aware that Claude was hot on his tail. As always, the ghost disappeared almost instantly - she crossed the path and dove into the tall shrubbery against the stone walls of the monastery, where she disappeared. Dimitri had seen her appear from the ground and disappear into walls before, only barely visible from the corner of his eyes, and every time she slipped like water from his fingers.
This time was no different. Dimitri skidded to a halt at her disappearing point, pushing aside thick branches in a desperate search for terrestrial beauty. There was nobody and nothing - the girl had walked straight into the monastery walls. Foiled again.
“Dammit!” Dimitri yelled. Claude’s eyebrows jumped up. “I was so close that time!” 
“You know curse words? I owe Hilda a hundred gold.” Claude poked his head over Dimitri’s shoulder, watching his desperate search without helping whatsoever. “What was all of that about? Did you see someone?”
“Didn’t you?” But Dimitri already knew the answer, even as he said it - nobody ever saw her but him. “I’ve been seeing this girl since I arrived at Garreg Mach. She appears from thin air and disappears into nothing. I suspect she may be a ghost. I’ve searched high and low for her, but I haven’t been able to find her. And she slips through my fingers again!”
Claude hummed, scratching his chin. “Now that you mention it, maybe I did see a figure…”
Dimitri rocketed upwards, snapping several branches. He whirled on Claude, who took a large step back. “You did? Was she short, wearing silver clothing, unmistakably beautiful?”
Claude held up both hands in a plea for innocence. “...it looked kind of humanoid?” Figures. Dimitri turned back around, scanning the area again. If he could just follow her trail - maybe there would be a scent of death? Of ozone? Of the unknown? “Hey, if it matters that much to you then I’ll help you look. Can’t afford to rule anything out - even ghosts.” 
“You’re a true friend, Your Grace,” Dimitri said seriously. Claude nodded back, equally seriously. “And even if she isn’t a ghost, an unknown person at Garreg Mach is highly suspect. She doesn’t seem to wear a habit, armor, or a uniform. It’s our responsibility as leaders to investigate mysteries like this.” 
“Uh huh.” Claude slipped into the thicket with him, easily fitting into the barren spots where Dimitri already accidentally snapped off all the branches. Dimitri was already seriously knocking on the castle walls, searching for secret passages or weaknesses. “But not to tell a staff member?”
“I decided a while ago that I could handle this on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. Wasn’t like anybody was willing to help him, anyway. “Some endeavors are personal.”
“I know that feeling.” Claude hummed, and Dimitri heard the distinct screech of metal scraping on metal. “So are you this invested because of the ghost thing or the beautiful thing?”
“With the potential non-invited guest at Garreg Mach thing, Your Grace.” 
A terrible grinding sound split the night, and Dimitri winced. He was a bit sensitive to unexpected loud noises. Felix knew, and liked to sneak up on him and yell in his ear. “I’m a future duke and you’re a future king, Your Highness, I think you’re meant to speak less formally to me.” 
“We’re both future leaders of our respective countries,” Dimitri said seriously. “Isn’t that more important than a discrepancy in titles? I’d like to show respect to you as it befits your station, not your title.” 
More awful screeching filled the air, accompanied by a final grinding scream and a muffled thump. “Is that why you’re the only person who calls Petra ‘Your Highness’? I think that’s why you’re the only guy in this school she approves of.” 
“Really?” Dimitri asked, pleased. Politeness always paid off! “I simply think it’s disrespectful to treat her as anything less than royalty simply because she is here as a political hostage - an outdated practice that I believe - I’m sorry, what’s that sound?”
“Oh, just opening a secret passage.” 
“I see. I just think it’s an outdated practice that ought to be illegalized, and just between you and me I actually highly disapprove of - I’m sorry, a what?”
Dimitri turned around from his fruitless inspection of the wall for the first time and saw Claude squatting nearby. He had cut away the brambles surrounding the area with the tip of an arrow he pulled from somewhere, and a large manhole was resting on the grass next to him. He was currently sticking his head down a dark hole of indeterminable depth. Dimitri hadn’t even noticed a manhole! 
Well. If the beautiful woman was a beautiful ghost, then she had undoubtedly gone through the wall. But if the beautiful woman was an everyday extremely attractive girl, then the manhole might be how she had escaped so quickly. 
Finally, a lead! A path towards her! Dimitri did not know why he was a little disappointed. Was he secretly hoping she’d be a ghost? That would be a little impractical. Maybe he was just upset Claude had found it?
Claude popped his head back up, upside-down braid swinging back against his cheek. “Now isn’t this interesting?” For the first time, Claude seemed invested. “The sewer system doesn’t run underneath this path. So what’s an access point to the sewers doing right here?”
“...why do you know the sewer layout of Garreg Mach?”
“I’m a fan of a good mystery,” Claude said, completely ignoring the question. Perhaps. “How do you feel about a little exploration on this fine moonlit night?” 
Oh no. Dimtiri abruptly felt a little anxious. “Your Grace, I don’t believe students are allowed in the Garreg Mach sewer systems.”
“What if it’s not the Garreg Mach sewer system?”
“That may be less allowed.” A little awkwardly, Dimitri added, “And I really wouldn’t want to accidentally break a rule and get in trouble.”
Claude gave him a look of blatant disgust. Dimitri hung his head in shame.
Finally, Claude took pity on him. He sighed and clapped Dimitri’s shoulder - once in camaraderie, twice in sympathy. “Your Highness. Are you really going to let some little rules get in the way of you and your soulmate?”
Dimitri perked up. Putting it like that…and he really didn’t want to look uncool in front of Claude, who was probably the coolest person at the school… “I suppose Lady Rhea would understand if it’s for the sake of love…”
“Attaboy.” Claude shoved roughly at Dimitri’s shoulder, pushing him into the hole. “Now let’s dive into the sewers. Lords first!”
Thankfully, Dimitri wasn’t obligated to fall down a hole face first. There was a wooden ladder descending downwards, warped and fragile from the damp air, and although Dimitri descended into the dark with no hesitation he had to force himself to move slowly and grip the fragile rungs with utmost care. 
The darkness was absolute, and Dimitri and Claude navigated by feel. They climbed for what felt like ages, and Dimitri’s absolute concentration made the period of time span even longer. Claude prattled on above his head with some random thoughts and observations, but Dimitri was focusing too hard on the ladder to register what he was saying. 
A boot knocked him on the head. Dimitri’s hands spasmed, crushing the rung into splinters, and his grip was completely lost. Dimitri bent backwards a terrifying foot before he righted himself and regained his balance, grabbing the side of the ladder and swinging himself heavily downwards. Of course, that broke the side of the ladder, and suddenly Claude was yelling a great deal of expletives as one side of his ladder began to slide downwards. 
“Let’s readjust our approach,” Dimitri said mildly. He changed his grip to grab the two sides of the ladder, his metal gauntlets digging into the wood. “Get ready to slide, Your Grace.” 
“Are you nuts -”
Dimitri kicked off, taking his feet off the rungs and loosening his grip on the sides. His slide downwards was alarmingly fast, and he could feel the musty air rise up to meet him. Claude was still yelling, his voice echoing up the empty tunnel, and a familiar wave of adrenaline rose to wash Dimitri’s mind clean.
He couldn’t help but grin. The wind tousling his hair, the swooping sensation in his stomach, the possibility of death and the high probability of injury - a recipe for excitement. Dimitri’s favorite sort of excitement - the sort that cleared out all of the nasty little thoughts that clouded his mind day to day, that made him forget all of his problems and memories and wounds and that focused him onto the present moment. It was a thrill that conquered all ills, and it was more or less the only time that Dimitri was ever happy. 
His professor didn’t like that about him. Before Garreg Mach, Felix was the only person who was aware of Dimitri’s little addiction, but the Blue Lions professor had sniffed Dimitri out fast and never stopped giving him a hard time about it. Dimitri honestly didn’t think it was the professor’s business, but he knew they did not agree regarding that fact. It didn’t matter - Dimitri wasn’t about to change.
A light sprung from the darkness, and Dimitri immediately kicked his heels against the ladder and slowed his descent. The light brightened as Dimitri fell, and he was able to make out a hard-packed dirt floor just in time to bend his knees and soften his landing. The impact still rattled his legs down to the bone, but he hadn’t sprained anything.
Dimitri immediately jumped backwards, watching Claude come to the same conclusion and slow his descent. Unlike Dimitri, he didn’t stick the landing - he fell in an ungainly heap on the floor, gasping for breath and groaning. His hair was wildly mussed, and he looked a little green. His cape had ripped off his shoulders, and was currently hanging like a defeated flag several feet above their heads.
“What is wrong with you.”
Goddess, they’d be here all day. “You’re the one who kicked my head.” Dimitri wiped the splinters off his gauntleted hand, extending it down to Claude. Claude squinted at him in increasingly ill-hidden hatred. “Come on, have a little adventurous spirit. I thought you were here to explore the unknown?”
Claude pushed himself upwards, and Dimitri silently curled his hand and returned it to his side. Figured that Claude wouldn’t want to touch him. An expected reaction, honestly. “Sure I am. Now our way out of here is unknown too. Guess we have no choice but to press onwards.” 
“I’ll lead the way,” Dimitri said - perhaps betraying the fact that he had no intention of going backwards. “I believe we’re already out of the woods. Look yonder - see the exit?”
There was, indeed, an exit. They had landed in a narrow rectangular room, and there was clearly a door at the far corner where the right wall intersected the back wall. Light shone from within, and Dimitri eagerly led them forwards towards the light. 
He could even hear sounds, signs of life - the distant coursing of a river, and a familiar quiet symphony of sounds. They were the sounds of life - a soundscape of an ordinary day at the marketplace at the base of Garreg Mach, marked by shuffling feet and quiet voices. 
“Is that people?” Dimitri whispered, excited. “What are people doing this far underground?”
“Is that people?” Claude whispered, incredulous. “Does Rhea know about this?”
“Perhaps they’re ghosts!”
But Claude just shook his head, and for the first time he seemed a little grim. He sped up, walking briskly until he overtook Dimitri. Dimitri fell back, letting him take the lead, and listened curiously as Claude muttered under his breath. Dimitri couldn’t make out the words at all - too quiet, perhaps.
“Ghosts!” Claude hissed. “Perhaps they’re ghosts, that’s fun, not dangerous -”
“Maybe they’re an army of ghosts,” Dimitri volunteered. Claude hissed something that sounded suspiciously similar to the Almyran term for the Fodlan ethnic group. He probably mishead. “Honestly, Claude, what happened to your thirst for adventure -”
“I thought I would get to see Dimitri Blaiddyd stomp through some sewers for an hour! I didn’t expect to stumble into real life people!” Claude stopped at the entryway, peering forward into the cavernous expanse beyond them. Dimitri stopped too. Quite involuntarily. “Holy - that’s a settlement! What is a settlement doing underneath - that’s a village! There’s no way Rhea doesn’t know about that. What else is that woman hiding?”
Dimitri coughed, frozen perfectly still. Cold steel kissed his neck. “Ah. Er. Some help?” 
Claude ignored him, steadily working himself up. Dimitri had never seen Claude actually unbalanced before. It was unsettling. “Just when I thought I had five percent of that woman figured out, she pulls the rug on me again. I’ll never get anything good out of her this way. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might have to fall back on the B&E plan -”
“Some help, Claude!”
Instantly, Claude said, “What B&E plan?”
“Don’t move,” the beautiful ghost said. 
Claude turned around. 
Dimitri had to assume it was the beautiful ghost. The sword was raised against his neck upwards, showing that the wielder had to significantly lift her arm to hold it. The voice was unmistakably a woman’s, light and delicate and young. It wasn’t ethereal - rather, it was solid, as solid as the steel against his skin - but there was still something otherworldly about it. 
Claude stared at Dimitri, wide-eyed. His eyes traveled downwards - yes, the ghost had to be short - and he froze just as solid as Dimitri for a flat second before he relaxed. Over Claude’s shoulder, Dimitri could see the settlement stretching out before him - at the lean-tos and tents and shacks, at the people in rags milling about who were already beginning to stop and stare. The underground people were dirty, and the underground village was filthier. Dimitri immediately saw some elderly hugging the walls, and more foreigners.
Undoubtedly, Claude had seen what Dimitri saw. Claude was currently ahead of him - he was staring at the beautiful ghost with mouth agape, eyes wide. A hot flash of jealousy burst in Dimitri’s chest. Claude got to see the ghost’s face before he did! How incredibly unfair! 
“Hello, there. Sorry for…uh, dropping in.” Claude slowly raised his hands, showing himself unarmed. Dimitri wondered where he had stashed his extra arrows. “We…come in peace?”
The sword at his neck flashed. It was well-kept, but clearly old and cheap. “Who are you with.” 
“We’re not with anybody!” Claude said hurriedly. Bizarrely, he had immediately adopted an accent - a thick, regional Almyran accent, coarse and rough. “Please, ma’am, stay your sword. Don’t you have any idea who you’re holding hostage? He’s a very important person. If he goes missing your entire house will be endangered. It’s safest for everybody if you just let him go.”
The blade stilled. “...is he rich?”
“Oh, very! I know people who would pay thousands for his safe return!” 
“What did I expect,” Dimitri muttered. 
“And who are you?” the beautiful ghost asked. “Are you rich too?”
“I am but this man’s humble aide!” Claude said instantly. He bowed flamboyantly, with a distinctive Almyran flair. “A loyal and devoted servant am I, to His Royal Highness! My ten brothers and sisters wouldn’t have two coppers to scavenge together to pay a ransom, honest! Tell you what, tell you what - let me help!” Claude straightened, pulling out his most roguish and charismatic smile. “Let’s be friends, Fodlan beauty. Give me your demands, and I’ll deliver them straight upwards all the way to the top. I’ll be back with thousands! You can give the pale boy back later. If you want. How about it?”
The sword wavered. The ghost spoke again, her voice laced with doubt. “You’re both wearing the Academy uniform. Brother did say that the prince was attending school this year.”
“Beautiful and good intel sources! Surely you’ve heard of me, the Almyran vassal that follows around the prince and attends school with him?”
Dubiously, the ghost said, “Brother says that the vassal’s Duscuran…”
“I am disappointed that your brother cannot tell the difference between the Duscur and Almyran people!”
“It’s not like that…”
Claude promptly said something in - Almyran? When did Claude learn Almyran? The ghost said something back in Almyran, undoubtedly dubious. Claude pointed at Dimitri’s shoulder, showcasing Dimitri’s fine cape, and then at his own - and the distinct lack of yellow cape, which was probably still pinned to the ladder. The beautiful ghost murmured in assent - obviously Claude was a poor vassal, not a rich king, see his complete lack of cape. 
The beautiful ghost said something, and Claude’s eyes sharpened. He grinned and bowed even lower - a vassal to a princess. 
In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “Then His Highness and his loyal vassal would be honored to hold an audience with the lady’s esteemed brother.” 
“You talk stupid.” 
“You would really get along with my best friend, my lady.” 
“I’m not your anything.” The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”
She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.
The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.
Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly. 
“Night night,” the love of Dimitri’s life said, before hitting him on the back of his head with the pommel of her sword, drawing black curtains over Dimitri’s eyes. 
__________
Dimitri sat in an office. A rather inauspicious turn in this kidnapping saga. 
He was sitting down because his head still hurt. He wished he was standing and showing his future brother-in-law the respect he deserved, but his future brother-in-law insisted that he tend to his probable concussion and sit. Dimitri wanted to protest - the man had already personally healed him, and his head didn’t hurt any more than usual - but the man seemed stressed enough, so Dimitri sat obediently in front of his desk. In an office. In an underground slum funded by the church. Which existed. Was that what taxpayer money was going towards?
Yuri explained the entire situation to him and Claude as he healed the bump and gash on Dimitri’s skull. For a given value of ‘entire’ - so far, Dimitri mostly just understood that the church organized a homeless encampment underground that accepted any members unconditionally and functioned roughly like its own little nation. The main encampment of Abyss was Garreg Mach itself - a basement floor of the monastery that had sunken into the ground after some unfortunate geographical events around seven hundred years ago. Dimitri wanted to ask if it was a possible problem that Garreg Mach was located in a sinkhole, but Yuri didn’t leave much time for questions.
The name of the slum was Abyss, and its inhabitants had little contact with the outside world. There were children in Abyss who had never stood in the sun, and infirm who hadn’t felt the sun’s warmth since they were well. Apparently the few inhabitants who regularly left Abyss used one of a series of secret passages in Garreg Mach, with entrances and exits that spanned the width of the monastery. These secret passages were very well-hidden, and an Abyssan well-versed in their usage could disappear and reappear throughout the monastery like…a ghost. 
They didn’t have visitors very often. Not many people knew about Abyss, and strangely enough the people in the loop didn’t care to visit a damp, filthy underground slum. They had even fewer Academy students fall down manholes and stumble into this inverted land of wonder. Hence why the sight of Dimitri and Claude caused certain Abyssans to panic. With their swords. 
These Abyssans were named Byleth, which was a lovely name. Potentially alliterative, too. 
“Your Highness.” Yuri was gritting his teeth together. “I am…so sorry.” 
“No harm done,” Dimitri said instantly. He wanted to express to Yuri that it was actually a great honor to be harmed by his sister, but he didn’t know how to say that in a normal way. “We were the intruders, after all. Byleth was just defending her home.” He turned to Byleth, who was standing stiffly behind her brother in a perfect match to Claude’s stiff stance behind Dimitri. Dimitri had barely taken his eyes off her, and yet she had failed to make a single facial expression. Fascinating. “Your swordplay was incredible, by the way. The way you held that sword to my throat was impeccable. I assume you’ve been professionally trained.”
“Here and there.” Byleth looked pleased, making Dimitri feel like a star. She pointed awkwardly at the silver sword at Dimitri’s hip. It was the same old sword Dimitri always had - some antique of the royal family, passed down from generation to generation. “I like your sword.”
Instantly, Dimitri said, “Thank you! Do you want it?”’
Byleth hummed. Yuri’s eyes widened a fraction, and Claude stifled a groan. “My sword is pretty old…”
“Here, take it.” Dimtiri immediately undid his belt and handed the sword over to her, belt and sheath and all. She held it up and admired it, testing its weight. Yuri’s jaw clenched. “Consider it my apology for following you uninvited into your home.”
Byleth nodded, twirling the sword easily in her hands. It was tremendously attractive. “Apology accepted. We’re even.” Her mouth twitched infinitesimally into something that may be loosely deemed a smile. Yuri’s eyes widened severely. “Thank you.”
Dimitri looked away, coughing. His face felt like it was going to melt off. “You’re welcome. It - ah, it suits you.”
“Do you think so?” Byleth asked, pleased. Perhaps. It was very hard to tell. Her voice was in a very strict monotone, but their deep spiritual connection meant that Dimitri could vibe these things out. “It does match my outfit.”
Dimitri would never be able to think of silver again without thinking of her. “I’m hono -”
“Your Highness.” Yuri’s voice hadn’t changed; nor had his words. His expression didn’t seem any different and his body language hadn’t shifted. But something about him was far now far less welcoming - something was different, all the same. “We’re very grateful for your gift, and for the forgiveness you’ve extended towards us regarding what happened. But it would be highly irresponsible of me to keep you here any longer. Abyss isn’t safe for somebody like you and your…vassal.”
“Khalid, sir.” Claude winked loudly at Dimitri, making absolutely certain that Dimitri understood that Claude was giving a fake foreign name. Yes, Dimitri picked up on that. “Really, wonderful place you have here. Very chic. Couldn’t possibly be that unsafe - if we had a good tour guide.”
Frostily, Yuri said, “I’ll have some scouts escort you back topside immediately. I’m certain Lady Rhea is looking for you.”
“It took her three days to notice that I tossed Lindhardt into a well, so I’m certain we have at least that long.” Claude leaned forward eagerly. “Who founded this place? Whose idea was it? Why is it underground?”
“Somebody who is no longer with us,” Yuri said, curt and even. “I’m the leader of Abyss now. And as the leader, it’s my responsibility to get future leaders of Fodlan back to their cozy beds.”
Claude flapped an easy hand. “Sure, let’s get the future leader of Fodlan back to bed. But this humble vassal’s awfully interested in this operation you’re running. Don’t suppose you could allow me to run around a bit? Check some things out? See your tax records?”
“I think even vassals have someplace to be, Khalid.”
“Why are you saying his name like that?” Byleth asked Yuri. She paused a beat. “Never mind. I don’t care.”
“There’s a great deal of places this vassal should be,” Claude said cheerfully, “but I think there’s only one place where I have to be.” He easily slid into the unoccupied chair next to Dimitri, leaning forward and folding his hands on Yuri’s desk. He had to nudge apart several scrolls of parchment and pieces of paper to do it - the man’s desk was stacked with forms, work, and quills. “Let’s put our cards on the table, huh? There’s a lot the church doesn’t tell us peons, Yuri. I’m willing to bet you know a lot of it. So in exchange for you telling me what you know, I don’t tell Lady Rhea what I know about a certain somebody trying to lop off the head of the future king of Faerghus. Sound good to you?”
Yuri crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, one thin purple eyebrow arching. “You have a lot to learn about the art of the deal, kid. What will Rhea say when she learns that Prince Dimitri and Duke Claude were out past curfew skulking around slums?”
“Duke Claude’s happily asleep in his warm bed, and every member of his House is sufficiently paid to corroborate that story.” Claude smiled winningly. “Khalid is a humble vassal interested in touring your fine slum. Khalid might also have some other gossip that you might be interested in.” 
“Like what, kid?”
Claude’s grin widened. “I might tell you tomorrow morning. After my visit.”
Yuri was silent. His eyes flickered to Dimtiri, then to Claude. He glanced at his sister. “By, wait outside?” 
Byleth nodded and exited the room. Dimtiri yearned for her achingly. But Yuri just straightened, face as blank and unreadable as his sister’s, and said something to Claude in Almyran.
For the first time, Claude was struck off balance. He looked at Dimitri, eyes wide, then back at Yuri. He said something empathetically, shaking his head, but Yuri just responded curtly.
In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “On the honor of my father and mother, no. I’m not trying to -”
“Really?” Yuri said. “You’re a novice at this con artist thing, kid. You’re too rich to do it well. Word of advice - don’t smile like you’re hiding something, smile like you’re keeping a secret.”
Claude pulled back a little, and Dimitri saw that he was almost pouting. “You don’t know me.”
“I know things about you that you don’t know about yourself.” Yuri looked at Dimitri, expression gentle and soft and bland. Like sheep’s wool, or dandelion fluff on the breeze. “Do you want to hang around Abyss a little longer too, Your Highness?”
Images of Byleth wielding his silver sword, flicking the blade in a deadly dance, spun through Dimitri’s mind. If he left Abyss now and never saw her again he would lose what little scrap of will to live he had left. Dimitri couldn’t keep losing good things. He was running out.
“Yes!” Dimitri said - a bit too quickly, a bit too empathetically. He coughed, forcing himself to settle down. “I mean - yes. As a future ruler, I should see how the other half lives. It’s important for a ruler to understand the needs of all of his people.”
It was perfectly true. It wasn’t what he was thinking, but it was perfectly true. Dimitri had the faint notion that perhaps he and Claude were missing the point of something important, something much bigger than them - than Claude’s secrets or Dimitri’s love story - but the allure of secrets and love was fairly overpowering at the moment. 
Easily, as easily as he said everything else, Yuri said, “My sister’s not on the market to entertain you. I can steer plenty of other lovely ladies or gentlemen your way, but she’s a little busy with her own work.” Yuri tilted his head, looking at Dimitri through half-lidded eyes. Dimitri flushed a little. “If you insist, I’d be happy to spare some time for you. But I’m afraid my sister is just too busy.” 
Claude stood up, chair skidding against the hard stone. “I just put my family’s name on this! As -” Claude said something quickly in Almyran, which completely flew over Dimitri’s head. “ - I am vouching for Prince Dimitri. I wouldn’t even say that for me, but I can sure as hell say it for him. You can trust us.” 
Yuri’s face was unchanged. “I’ve heard that one before.” 
And although Dimitri didn’t understand half the conversation - although he knew that there was subtext he wasn’t getting, that there were things about the world he just couldn’t see - he understood the right thing to do well enough for now. Standing in the midst of Abyss, it was clear.
Dimitri stood up, bowing low at Yuri. “I apologize for our intrusion. I see that my classmate and I have overstayed our welcome. I have no desire to add to the heavy burdens you and your village already bear. Please, if you can help escort us back to the surface, we’d be very grateful.”
When Dimtiri straightened, he saw a peculiar look on Yuri’s face. It was a little thoughtful, and a lot of another foreign emotion. “What will you do now that you know we’re here?”
“Ask Rhea how we can help,” Dimitri said immediately. Left implied: and confess to our wrongdoings, like good children. “Or you, if you’re amenable. Abyss is not located within my lands, but I am aware that many places like Abyss reside in the darkness of Faerghus. If I can do anything for you now - learn what you can teach me - then I consider it education on how to provide for my subjects in the future.”
“He’s sincere,” Claude said firmly. He stood up too, thumping his heart with a closed fist. “I haven’t been sincere since the poisoned fig incident, but I can swear too. We just want to help. So let us help - it can’t be every day you have two future leaders of Fodlan asking you what we can do for you.”
Yuri stared at them for a long few seconds, expression glazed smooth and unreadable, before he finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I suppose you want my sister as a tour guide.”
“You just said she’s busy,” Dimitri asked, tilting his head in confusion. “I assumed she wouldn’t be available to show us around.” 
Yuri narrowed his eyes - damn, the man was impeccable. Dimitri had attempted one subtle fib and he was caught out immediately. But the lie served its purpose, and something subtle in Yuri’s shoulders untensed. Dimitri hadn’t realized that they were tense at all.
Yuri opened his mouth and said -
“Boss! Did we really kidnap the prince of Faerghus?”
The door thumped open with such immense force that it smacked against the far wall. A truly giant man strode inside, followed closely on his heels by a blonde woman wearing an unsettling smile and a short dark-skinned woman picking at a cuticle. On the tail end of the party was Byleth. She nodded at Dimitri, who nodded back in a daze.
“I told them you were busy,” Byleth said serenely. 
“Yeah, busy with His Royal Highness!” The large man stopped in front of Dimitri and carefully scrutinized him from head to toe. Dimitri allowed himself to be scrutinized. “Damn! What are they feeding you Academy kids these days? You’re solid muscle. Not as much as me, but not bad either!”
Dimitri fought the urge to sweat. The women flanked the big guy, blinking at him curiously. “I train frequently.”
“Really? Guess Bye-Bye’s found another freak.” The dark-skinned woman yawned, nodding at Byleth as she stood at her brother’s side. “You should hang out. Hit each other with swords or whatever.” 
“Greetings to His Royal Highness and friend!” the blonde woman yelled, almost at the top of her voice. She put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin in the air. “Welcome to the home of Constance von Nuvelle! Our decor may be lacking, but our hospitality is second to none!”
“Really?” the other woman drawled. “I think the rats add some pizazz.”
“Silly Hapi! The rats are disgusting!”
“Bye-Bye eats garbage too, but we don’t give her a hard time about it.”
“Hospitality, huh?” Yuri smiled, and for the first time it seemed a little real. “Balthus, obviously you don’t have anything more important going on. Can you host our two noble young visitors? Who we didn’t kidnap?”
“We were a little kidnapped,” Claude said. 
Balthus grinned, propping a hand on a hip. “I dunno, are you paying me?” 
Quickly, Dimitri added, “We’ll compensate you for your efforts, of course.”
“Wait,” the dark-skinned woman asked the room, “are we holding you hostage? Because it sounds like we’re holding you hostage.”
“Sold, kid!” Balthus thumped a friendly hand on Dimtiri’s back. He didn’t stumble, which seemed to shock Balthus before he withdrew his hand and quickly covered up the motion. “You look like a good hand with a weapon. Not you, Almyran guy, you look like a wimp.” Claude narrowed his eyes, but Balthus just looked backwards at Byleth. “You should spar with our new friend, Byleth. I’ll finally get to see you knock a different musclehead on the ground!”
Constance squealed, clapping her hands. “Byleth and the new children can play together! Oh, how heartwarming! Socialization is a rare opportunity for Bylie indeed!” She looked at Yuri and stage whispered, “We cannot afford to lose this chance, Yuri!”
“Byleth doesn’t know a lot of kids her own age,” the dark-skinned woman told Dimitri and Claude. “She’s…a little awkward.”
Byleth blinked at them.
“Wow,” Claude muttered, “you don’t say.”
“I forgive you for holding a sword to my neck,” Dimitri said earnestly. “You were doing the right thing.”
“Seriously, are we holding you hostage or not?”
 Yuri’s eye twitched. But his posture had fully loosened, and the presence of the strangers seemed to make him breathe a little easier. “We aren’t. And Byleth isn't a puppy we need to socialize, Hapi. You know how noble boys are.”
“Noble boy and his loyal vassal,” Claude added quickly, sticking stubbornly to the bit. Dimitri had no idea why, but Claude rarely vocalized his reasons for doing anything. “What do you think, Byleth? Want to hang out with us, or want to stay with your brother?”
Byleth stared at both of them unblinkingly. Finally, after a long few seconds of thought, Byleth said, “I want to train with Dimitri.” 
Hapi shot a canny look at Yuri. “Balthus’ll supervise. Connie and I too, if you want.” 
For a long second Dimitri thought Yuri was going to say no anyway. Dimitri would have accepted it. It would have robbed Dimitri of the only good thing left in his life, but he would have accepted it. Good things came and left all of the time, and part of life was learning how to deal with that. Dimitri liked to fancy himself an expert in it. He could lose one more thing - one flash of hope. 
But Yuri only sighed. “Alright. Supervised. Now get out of my office, all of you, I’m far too busy to juggle nobility on top of everything else.” Claude perked up. “All of you. You want to talk about Rhea - we’ll do it after dinner.” 
“Understood!” Claude bowed at Yuri again, and Dimitri hastily copied him. “You won’t regret opening your doors to us, sir!”
“Uh-huh.” Left unsaid - he definitely already was. “Out of my office, then. I’ve been away for too long and I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
Byleth tilted her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You should leave less often. Your work piles up. It stresses you out.” 
Yuri gave her a big smile, as if he was keeping a secret. “But if I don’t leave, I’ll never experience the joy of seeing you again.” 
“You’re corny, Yuri.” 
“Love turns even the best of us into cornballs.” Yuri and Byleth shared a look, empty and opaque, but in that blankness Dimitri saw something far deeper than he had ever experienced. “Just look at Constance. Every time she looks at herself in the mirror she gets sillier.” 
“Excuse me, my sweet Yuri -”
“You’re excused, my darling Constance.”
“Must we fight,” Hapi panned, monotone and disinterested. “We’re a family. Look. You’ll make the baby cry.”
Byleth blinked at Hapi. “But I can’t cry.” 
“Look. You’ll give the baby psychological issues.” 
Balthus laughed again, cracking his knuckles with a pop that echoed throughout the cramped office. “This’ll be fun! It’s been a while since we’ve had a good adventure, eh Yuri?”
“Yes,” Yuri said, “that’s altogether what I’m afraid of.”
Truthfully, at that point Dimitri was no longer listening. He was just looking at Byleth, the girl who could not cry. And Byleth looked back at him, the boy whose heart was always crying. They saw each other, the heart-burdened and the heartless, and something in one reached out to balance the other.
And although the weight of the world above them crushed Dimitri’s shoulders, although they stood within damp and filthy slums tucked into the bowels of the planet, for those precious few seconds Dimitri and Byleth existed in the world with no obligation to anybody but each other.
_____________
ii. 
Yuri was sitting in this bathroom fruitlessly scrubbing blood out of his one good outfit when he received word that Lady Rhea was requesting an audience. Because it was Rhea, he also received word that she was already waiting for him in the destroyed classroom. 
Damn it! He had just returned! And he didn’t have anything to wear!
In the end, he was forced to keep Lady Rhea waiting another fifteen minutes because he had to dig out an older, rattier outfit and re-do his makeup. Approach: ‘I’m in my twenties, my stare is cold and piercing, and damn it I belong in this conference room’. Then he had to waste another five minutes because his hair was a wreck and his hands still smelled like blood. By the time he finally speed-walked down the halls and skidded to a stop in front of the classroom doors Yuri was twenty minutes late and already fighting the urge to freak.
As always, he halted at the doors. He took a deep breath in, then out. His outfit was dingy, which made him feel like crap, but the power makeup helped pick up the slack. He inhaled, exhaled, shook out his limbs, and entered the classroom. 
Rhea was standing in front of a blackboard, her back turned to the door. She was dressed in an old brown cloak, but with the hood down and her beautiful green hair left to flow over her shoulders the figure was unmistakable as Rhea. She was writing in beautiful and flowing script on the blackboard with a piece of stubby chalk, and speaking in a low voice to the child standing next to her. The child was staring up at her, eyes wide, chewing on a knuckle. Th child’s dark blue hair was pulled into a stubby ponytail, and she was wearing only a tattered black dress and swimming in a brown jacket sized for a large adult man. 
“ - your name. See, this is the B…like ‘bye’. Can you say ‘bye’?” The child blinked owlishly up at Rhea. “That’s alright. You’ll get it. You’re doing a great job already.” 
Yuri coughed, and Rhea quickly turned around. With a strange start Yuri noticed that she was dressed down even more than usual, her face plain and wearing only a simple white dress underneath the cloak. Without her own makeup, she seemed tired. She smiled wanly at Yuri, who bowed back. The child turned around too, gnawing fastidiously at her knuckle. 
“Yuri. I’m sorry to call upon you again so quickly after your return. Did all go well?”
“The job was done.” Deepen your voice, sound older - sound disaffected, yet sincere. Yuri wondered if he would ever live long enough that he could stop pretending to be older. “The deceased is no longer a threat to the church.”
“He was a threat to the safety of Fodlan,” Rhea said firmly. Yuri wasn’t sure about that one, but he did appreciate Rhea’s conscientious efforts to only toss absolute bastards into his pen. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you yet again, Yuri. This is important. I cannot fully disclose to you why this mission is so important, but please trust me when I say that this is a matter extremely close to my heart.”
Yuri straightened, folding his hands behind his back. He wanted to die a bit. Another important mission? As if managing Abyss, captaining his rogues, and assassinating bastards weren’t enough missions? 
How long would she keep punishing him? 
But Yuri just bowed. It was no effort at all to keep his expression placid. “I can accomplish any mission you give me, my lady.”
“I know. That’s why I’m trusting you with this.” Rhea put both hands on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed. The girl squirmed uncomfortably. You and me both, kid. “Yuri, this is Byleth. Byleth, this is Yuri. Why don’t you say hi?”
Byleth stared at Yuri, gnawing on her finger. Somebody probably ought to slap those knuckles with a ruler. She wasn’t a young child - twelve or thirteen, perhaps - but the habit and the wide eyes made her seem younger. 
Yuri gave her his special ‘talking to vulnerable kids’ smile. “How do you do, my lady?”
Byleth stared at Yuri. A theme. 
Rhea frowned, squeezing Byleth’s shoulder one last time before dropping her hands. “She hasn’t talked much since it happened. She…doesn’t seem to remember anything.”
“Anything about what happened?”
“Anything at all. She can’t seem to recall anything about her family or her life. Darling, you ought to get your knuckle out of your mouth.” Rhea ducked her head, staring steadfastly at Byleth. The girl slowly dropped her knuckle from her mouth, looking a little spooked, before Rhea lifted her head again. “Byleth here was kidnapped. There are…some forces in Fodlan that place great value in Byleth. I don’t know how they learned about her, but they haven’t left her in peace since they found out. They’ve tried to kidnap her several times, but their latest attempt was successful. The Church knights were only able to rescue her two days ago. The knight who rescued her brought her to me immediately, and now I must bring her to you.”
“Have you spoken with Aelfric about this?”
“Of course. He’s already given his consent.” Rhea’s eyes glimmered strangely in the light. Sometimes the only emotion from that woman Yuri could truly understand was the dark depths of her sadness. “Discretion is of the utmost importance. The people after her will not give up.” 
Ah. Yuri understood. “Does she have a valuable crest?”
Rhea put a hand on Byleth’s head, slowly stroking her hair. Byleth went cross-eyed looking upwards and gawking at the hand. “Byleth is a very special girl.”
Alright, so don’t tell him. “You want to hide her and her family in Abyss?” 
But Rhea just shook her head, expression mournful. “Byleth is an orphan. She will be alone in Abyss. That’s why I must ask for your help, Yuri.”
In the girl’s big dark eyes Yuri saw only trouble. Abyss sheltered plenty of people in hiding, but the people after Byleth seemed to be on a different level. If hiding the girl here brought danger into Abyss, then…
Then she was still a girl who needed help. Yuri would deal with any danger as it came. 
“Madame Birch will be happy to take her in.” Yuri smiled at Byleth again, taking care to crinkle his eyes and gave it positive energy. “My friend Madame Birch takes care of kids just like you, Byleth. She’ll be so excited to meet you. I know some girls her age in your house who’ve been begging me for another friend.” 
But Rhea just shook her head, expression somber and firm. “The forces after Byleth are powerful. I need to place her with the strongest person in Abyss - the person most able to protect her. That’s you, Yuri. Please take her yourself.”
Ah. What?
For the first time, Yuri had to fight to keep his expression and tone still. “My lady, my workload frequently takes me out of Abyss.”
“Then I can reduce your workload.”
That perked Yuri’s ears. He was a fool for not recognizing it immediately. Rhea was desperate. Her emotional involvement in this was far greater than keeping a tool out of the hands of the enemy. Byleth had to be family somehow - maybe even a secret daughter. Having a secret daughter of Lady Rhea in Yuri’s back pocket…under his exclusive supervision…
It was a death knell if anything happened to the kid. But the leverage was too good to pass up.
Fuck, he could even negotiate right here and now. He ought to send Byleth out of the room for this, but it was important that she understood what was happening and why. As much as she seemingly could - the girl may be a little touched. It didn’t matter, obviously, but it would necessitate a change in approach.                 
“Well,” Yuri said slowly, “the greatest distraction from Abyss would be my jobs. I would like to stay in Abyss full-time. Give her a more consistent upbringing.”
Rhea’s eyebrow quirked upwards, but Yuri was unrepentant. She knew what she was doing by looping him in. “I’ll reduce the quantity of jobs I assign you.”
“To once every four months, perhaps.”
“Once every two.” 
“That would be highly detrimental for Byleth’s childhood development.”
Evenly, Rhea said, “Going forth, I will give you a job every three months at maximum. Is that a deal?”
That was fucking fantastic. Yuri was almost lightheaded, but he pressed on. “Sounds like a deal. But raising a child is no simple matter, my lady. Child-proofing the environment, educating her, feeding her…Abyss is run on a razor-thin budget. The expenses concern me.” 
Rhea sighed. “I will funnel more money into your personal budget to compensate for the expense.” Yuri waited patiently. “And into the Abyss orphanages. Anything else, Yuri?”
She could be such a sucker sometimes. Sometimes Yuri wondered if she let him do it. Definitely not. Probably not. 
“I’m satisfied. You’re as generous as always, Lady Rhea.”
“This is in exchange for Byleth’s safety.” Rhea’s expression sobered, the soft silk solidifying into stone. “In exchange for what I’m giving you, I need her safety absolutely guaranteed. Nothing can happen to this girl.”
“No need to fret, my lady. Abyss is the safest place in Fodlan. Nobody even knows we exist.” Yuri bent down a little, smiling at Byleth. She had regained access to her knuckle, and was chewing it fastidiously again. “What do you say, Byleth? Want to go home with me?”
If the girl wasn’t touched, she must have understood. She must understand that the woman who would not admit to a relationship with her had just bartered for her residency with a teenage assassin, den mother, and prostitute. All things considered, the price had been insultingly low. 
Byleth just stared at him. Alright, maybe she didn’t understand. That would make this harder. Yuri really should have asked for more money. Teach the girl the first and most important lesson of her new life: that you should never sell yourself for less than what you were worth. Or market value, if you couldn’t get any buyers otherwise. Maybe this was just market value. 
Smile, Yuri. Smile. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, Byleth.” 
Byleth blinked. At least she was a quiet child. This would be easy. 
______________
This was impossible.
This was shit. Absolute and complete shit. Why wasn’t she like Bernadetta? Yuri had thought she would be like Bernadetta. All Bernadetta did was nap, read, exhaustively detail the plot of her book, and cry. Byleth couldn’t even read. Apparently, when children couldn’t read, they decided to follow you around instead.
Everywhere. She followed him everywhere. When Yuri sat in the small storage room he co-opted as an office she crawled underneath his desk and swiped at his ankles. When Yuri visited the rogue’s encampments and gave the leadership its newly tightened security measures, she ran around the training field and started waving wooden training swords around. It took three rogues to wrest a sword from her. When Yuri made the rounds of Abyss and talked to its citizens, hearing every problem and offering every condolence he could, she hovered at his heels and gawked at every conversation with wide eyes. 
It was like having another googly-eyed shadow. Yuri didn’t have five seconds to himself anymore. He couldn’t even visit the tavern and unwind by flirting with one of his regular hook-ups - something about having a thirteen year old (twelve? Fourteen?) hovering at your elbow really killed your game. This must be what the older girls used to refer to as cockblocking. 
Byleth still hadn’t said a word. She observed, but never really listened. Still couldn’t read or write. She could catch the rats scuttling around the gutters with her bare hands. The girl may be touched. Which, again, didn’t matter - but it made it extraordinarily difficult to convey to her the importance of ‘me time’. Or ‘don’t eat that’. Or ‘put down that sword’.
It was official. Byleth was a demon. Figured that the wolf in sheep’s clothing would spawn a feral little wolf cub. Yuri should have charged more. 
At least Aelfric had his back. The cardinal had little time to sneak down into Abyss, but he had begun sparing whatever time he could towards playing with Byleth. Aelfric practically begged Yuri to allow him to spend time entertaining Byleth, saving Yuri from the effort of begging Aelfric to take her. Last time Yuri checked, Aelfric spent their time together teaching Byleth her letters in the destroyed classroom. And thank the goddess for that. 
“I don’t understand why she didn’t ask me,” Aelfric said, for roughly the hundredth time. They were sitting at a stone desk in the classroom, eating a coarse but filling breakfast. Byleth was cramming a hunk of bread the size of her face into her mouth. “I have my duties, but I would have gladly forfeited them for the sake of this child. You’re barely more than a child yourself, Yuri -”
Yuri couldn’t help but bark a sharp laugh. “You do realize that you and my mother are the only people who have said that in a decade.”
“That doesn’t make it untrue,” Aelfric said gently. Yuri ducked his head, focusing on pressing a napkin into Byleth’s hands and directing her to wipe her own face. There was no way this girl even knew how to do her makeup. Ridiculous. “Rhea shouldn’t have put this responsibility on you. I don’t know what she was thinking, honestly.” 
That made Yuri feel a little defensive. Byleth pushed away her plate, gnawing on her final hunk of bread, and Yuri pulled over her writing tablet. Aelfric had even sprung for a few pieces of paper and pencils dyed bright colors. Yuri hurriedly placed the paper and pencils in front of her. Last he remembered, drawing was an activity favored by younger children, but Byleth couldn’t exactly partake in the age-appropriate activities of gossiping, bullying other girls, sewing, or reading. Goddess, did she even know how to sew or embroider? Yuri would have to teach her.
“I could beat anybody in Abyss in a straight fight,” Yuri said. He hoped his defensiveness didn’t show. It was a little harder to hide with Aelfric. “Even you. More importantly, I know how to be stealthy and hide myself and others. I know the Abyss system like the back of my hand. As far as Abyssans go, I understand why Lady Rhea thought I was the best choice.”
“I’m not doubting your talent, Yuri,” Aelfric soothed, “I just don’t understand why Rhea couldn’t have put Byleth in the care of an adult. You have enough responsibilities of your own without adding another one on the heap.”
Yuri bristled. “I’m almost eighteen.”
“Eighteen with the burdens of a thirty year old.” Aelfric sighed, and Yuri guiltily subsided too. It wasn’t right to get defensive at Aelfric. After everything the man did to help him, he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. “I just want you to enjoy what remains of your youth. There’s a sweet nun volunteering at the orphanage -” Yuri groaned. “Yuri, why can’t you hear me out on this?”
“You’re always going on about finding a nice girl, Aelfric -”
“Because you’re re-traumatizing yourself with all of these men,” Aelfric said patiently. Yuri looked down at his hands, restraining himself from picking at a manicured cuticle. “Look at you, Yuri. You haven’t changed any of your habits. You’re still trying to appeal to men. You have to begin to heal.”
There was something heavy and old in Yuri’s chest. It was a burden that never grew lighter - a pain that never retreated. The best he could do was ignore it. But Yuri kept picking at it all the same. “It’s not my fault that men continue to approach me.”
“But it’s your responsibility to turn them down. And men wouldn’t approach you so often if you didn’t wear all that makeup.” 
When Yuri spoke, his voice was quieter than he expected. He had wanted it to be louder, stronger. But something had cut it down. “It’s not for them…”
A small, bony finger poked Yuri’s side.
He looked over at Byleth, who was staring at him with her usual wide, serious eyes. She picked up her picture and presented it to Yuri, who took it and inspected the image carefully. 
It was of them. The girl was a far better artist than he expected, and although the proportions were a little wonky Yuri could clearly recognize all three of them. They were sitting on crates outside of a tent - a tent that resembled the ones in Abyss, but was more reminiscent of a standard issue mercenary’s tent. Yuri was drawn with great care, sitting straight backed on the crate and staring straight at the viewer. His makeup was exaggerated and poorly applied. Aelfric sat on Yuri’s left, wrinkles clearly outlined and his blood-red habit engulfing his figure. The red lines on the habit seemed closer to bloodstains. 
In comparison to the rest of the drawing, Byleth’s figure was remarkably undetailed. She only drew the faint outlines of herself, with a few expressive lines demarcating an abstract face. The greatest level of detail was in the giant brown jacket she never took off - the careful impressions of its stitches and metal buttons were a strange contrast to the ghost wearing it. 
“This is excellent,” Yuri said, genuinely impressed. Sometimes it was easy to think of her as younger than thirteen-or-so, but at other times her true age was perfectly obvious. Even the ghostly Byleth felt more like an artistic choice.  “I like your usage of color. It’s very powerful.” He pointed at a spot in the upper left of the page, tucked in the corner closest to Byleth and furthest than everybody else. It was just a tight swirl of green pencil - the gradient of density between the thick middle and loose outsides giving the green a strange halo-like impression. “Is this the sun?”
Byleth gave him a disgusted look. Yuri could guess: ‘the sun isn’t green, moron’. Potentially: ‘what sun? What’s a sun? I know only the Depths’. 
“Then what is it?” 
Byleth tugged the drawing away from him, replacing it on the table and attacking the page with a pencil. Chewing the edge of the pencil, mind working furiously, she carefully wrote out a word. She stared at the word, scratched it out, and then tried again. She put down her pencil, nodded in satisfaction, and showed it to Yuri again.
He squinted at the page. In messy, juvenile script underneath the halo - with an arrow carefully drawn towards the halo, in case he missed the reference - she had written ‘SOHTHESE’. 
“Sohthese?” Yuri asked, hiding confusion. “Is that a friend of yours?” Byleth shook her head. Then she nodded. “Is…that a yes or no?”
“She’s making great progress, but her spelling needs work. Let me see.” Aelfric held out a hand, and Yuri silently passed him the page. Aelfric took one look at the page and his eyebrows jumped. “I think she means ‘Sothis’. Is that correct, Byleth?” Byleth nodded vigorously. “Where did you hear that name, Byleth? I don’t think I ever told you that.” 
Wait. That name was a little familiar. “Is that the name of a saint?” Yuri asked. “I didn’t know you were giving her catechism classes.”
“I’m not. And it’s the name of the Goddess herself. It’s not very well used - typically only scriptural scholars use it with any regularity.” Aelfric frowned down at Byleth, and for the first time his expression seemed troubled. “Where could you have heard that word…?”
“Wow,” Yuri panned, “I wonder where the secret daughter of Lady Rhea heard the name of the goddess. The world may never know.” 
“Please, Yuri, be serious.” Aelfric was still frowning, staring at the paper intently. Byleth gestured for him to give the paper back, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stared and stared at the paper, walking mental paths far beyond the provincial little world of Yuri and Byleth. 
“Aelfric, I think she wants the paper back.”
“What? Oh, yes.” Aelfric looked up, still somewhat dazed. “Could I potentially keep this, Byleth?” Byleth shook her head no. “I see. That’s alright, then.” He passed it back, and Byleth tugged it firmly out of his hands. She replaced it on the table, smoothing it over carefully. 
“I didn’t figure you for the religious type,” Yuri told Byleth. Byleth shrugged. “Are you going to become a nice nun too?”
“There’s nothing wrong with marrying a good woman and settling down,” Aelfric scolded lightly. “A home and a family is the greatest joy a young man can have. If you don’t change your behavior, you’ll never find happiness. I’m only worried about you.”
An extensive, agonizing rip split the air. 
Byleth was holding up the carefully constructed drawing in clear view of both men. Making direct and unblinking eye contact, she looked at Aelfric and ripped the paper straight down between Yuri and Aelfric. Yuri and Aelfric stared at her in shocked silence as she finished cruelly ripping Aelfric from the paper, balling up his figure in one clenched fist and carefully replacing the cropped page on the table. Yuri, Byleth, and Sothis looked very happy together. Aelfric’s face was split in half. 
Silence burdened the room. Aefric and Yuri gaped at Byleth in pure shock. Byleth happily took a blue pencil and began threading in streaks of blue in the green halo. 
A bark of laughter escaped Yuri’s chest. His chest was light and full, and the thick iron bars that held his broken pieces together loosened and allowed him to breathe. Another burst of laughter escaped the abandoned prison, then another, and then the inmates began running the asylum. Yuri began wheezing, clutching his own stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. 
Then Byleth laughed too, a light and ugly snort. It was the only sound he had ever heard from her. After weeks, the first and only sound Yuri had ever heard from Byleth was laughter. No tears, no screams of pain, no words begging for help, no moans for food - just laughter. A small smile painting the face of the girl as silent as death.
Yuri and Byleth, two prisoners unrestrained for the first time that they could remember, laughed together in defiance. 
In the end, Byleth had given the picture to Yuri. She had forgotten about the whole incident after a few months - a few years later, when prompted about that picture and the Goddess, Byleth would just stare blankly in confusion. She didn’t remember those days well.
Yuri remembered them. He remembered the picture too. He had placed the picture between two pages of a book and hidden it inside a desk. It remained in that desk for a very long time, and nobody but him ever knew it existed.
_____________
And then he lost her. 
He lost her. Aelfric asked if he could babysit her for the day, and because Yuri was tired and wanted some time to himself and to actually go on a freaking date for once he said yes, and when Byleth’s curfew at 2100 passed she and Aelfric still were not home. Aelfric knew to get her home by curfew. He knew that Byleth had to stay in Abyss for her own safety. He knew.
Yuri combed all of Abyss, top to bottom. Images of Aelfric and Byleth floating face down in the canal flashed throughout his mind. But a rogue stationed at one of the entrances from the monastery into Abyss said that he let Aelfric and Byleth through the entrance only a few hours ago. Apparently Yuri had asked Aelfric to take Byleth to the chapel to pray. The guard hadn’t thought twice about it. Yuri was Byleth’s guardian, but it was Aelfric. Some people were above suspicion. Some people could take children wherever they wanted. 
Yuri sprinted back to his room and threw on his spare pilfered Academy uniform, stolen from the closet of a noble boy who should have known better. He pulled on the jacket as he ran, feet thumping in time with the omnipresent dripping of water and the squeak of rats, and his mind was nothing but blaring static as he unscrewed the entrance to one of the least-known entrances into the monastery. 
He climbed the ladder at top speed, stopping only to grab the stone handle at the very top of the chute. He pushed full force against the handle, and after a second he heard the hard grind of stone on stone as the mechanism was activated and shifted the statue of Saint Cethlenn to the side. It was one of the finicky trapdoors that was almost impossible to access from above ground, but relatively easy from below. Yuri often had morbid daydreams about Garreg Mach falling under attack and how he would evacuate the entire population of the school out through the tunnels. 
Yuri clambered out of the tunnel, hoisting himself into Seteth’s office. He looked around - empty, but the sound of voices echoed from the adjacent room - and quickly stood up so he could push the statue back into place. The voices were Rhea’s familiar cadence and another unfamiliar deep male voice. In any other circumstance, Yuri would have cared about revealing himself in front of a stranger.  Today, he barely thought about it. Yuri burst out of Seteth’s office and skidded into the main chambers, ignoring Seteth’s cry of alarm and the rustling sounds of the guard’s armor. Yuri only halted when he was directly in front of Rhea, looking up into her alarmed green eyes.
Yuri bent double, leaning on his knees and gasping for breath. Rhea leaned over him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. The other man in the room was absolutely huge, with big hair and bigger muscles. If it wasn’t for the Academy student’s uniform he would have assumed the man was in his thirties.
“Whoah,” the big guy said. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Where,” Yuri gasped, hard and heavy, “is Aelfric?” 
Rhea paled, eyes widening. Fear. Why fear? “He told me he was visiting you today. What’s wrong?”
“Sounds great! So it’s official that nobody knows where Father Aelfric was, then?” The big guy waved around a thick folder of paper, one hand propped on his hip. “Because I hung out in his office for an hour waiting for him to show up to our appointment. He said it was important, too! All this stuff about helping save me from expulsion. And the guy can’t even show up? We’re talking about my future here!”
“Our guard saw him taking Byleth to the surface!” Yuri cried frantically. The big guy’s brows furrowed, but Yuri couldn’t be assed about him right now. “I can’t find Aelfric or Byleth anywhere in Abyss! Lady Rhea, you have -”
But Rhea was already straightening and turning to the guards. In a tone he had never heard before, she said, “Find Cardinal Aelfric and bring him to me immediately. Shut down the monastery until he and Byleth are found. Nobody in or out.” 
“I know where he might have gone.” The big guy flipped the folder open, flashing messy stacks of paper and ripped pages from books. “I got bored waiting around for him, so I went through his desk.” No wonder this guy was about to get expelled. “Never knew one guy could get so into his ancient mausoleum hobby. Would you happen to know anything about this, Lady Rhea?”
Lady Rhea was silent. Yuri was still shaking. He should have been shocked, he should have been horrified. But he wasn’t. Yuri knew. Yuri had always known, he just hadn’t wanted to see it. 
“This is all my fault,” Yuri whispered. He wanted to throw up. He knew this sort of nausea - the kind invoked by visceral disgust at something you found within yourself. “I let him take her. I let him run off with her. This is all my…”
The way Aelfric looked at her. The way he was constantly volunteering to babysit or entertain her for the day or homeschool her. Yuri had given him everything he wanted - every unsupervised visit, constant knowledge of her location, everything. Because Yuri had trusted Aelfric. 
Trusted. He could be doing anything to her right now, because Yuri had trusted.
Hands, unimaginably large and hairy. Sagging flesh pressing against his own. Was this how Byleth felt right now? Were big hands on her chest? Awful pain, burning like fire. What did Byleth look like when she was in that pain? Did she make the same sounds he had? The squeals and moans. Did they like hearing them from her too? 
“Yuri. Yuri, you have to breathe.” Lithe, strong hands enveloped Yuri’s hands and squeezed tightly. The melodic sound of Lady Rhea’s voice barely permeated the haze. “You’re at Garreg Mach, Yuri. You’re in the home of the Goddess. You’re seventeen. I’m here. Nothing may harm you so long as I’m here.” 
“This is my fault,” Yuri gasped. “This is all my fault.” 
“No, Yuri. Look at me.” Yuri shuddered a final breath before looking up at Rhea. Her expression was intent, but she was still so calm and composed. Yuri couldn’t say the same at all. “This is my fault. I didn’t share my suspicions with you. I’m the one who encouraged you to trust him. This was - this was all me.” 
It was? 
Rhea had known? Rhea had known that Aelfric wasn’t honest? She had known that Aelfric would take Byleth and she hadn’t said anything -
“I know.” Rhea’s expression creased, and a deep pain surfaced in her features. “I just thought…he loved her mother as I once did. Surely he would feel the same as I do…but I suppose not. People still disappoint.” 
Yuri tugged his hands out of Rhea’s, and she let them go. He scrubbed at his face, constantly fighting to keep hold of his breaths and sanity. He was not about to have another stupid flashback. He wasn’t. Not in Garreg Mach and not in front of the stupid Archbishop. He wasn’t going to catastrophize. Byleth was fine. He had fucked up and failed her and it’s all his fault that terrible things are definitely happening to her right now, but it was fine.
“I hate men so damned much,” Yuri muttered miserably. Some part of him was appalled that he had cursed in front of the archbishop, but every other part of him was far more concerned with far more important things. “I’m never trusting a man again. All men do is make children suffer.”
The big guy laughed awkwardly, passing the file folder to the somber Rhea before scrubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “On behalf of men, I guess I have to apologize. I like to think we’re not all that bad…not that I can blame a - um, you, for how you feel. Tell you what, alright?” The big guy flexed an arm, as if he was at a bar trying to impress Yuri, and clapped his hand on his admittedly impressive bicep. “I’ll save this little girl myself! I’ll chase down Father Aelfric, kick his ass, get that little girl safely home, and redeem men in the eyes of women and - ah, you, everywhere! Or my name ain’t Balthus von Adalbrecht!”
A von Adalbrecht. Great. Yuri couldn’t repress the sneer. “Your uncle yells the name of his wife’s brother in bed.”
Balthus stared at Yuri blankly. “How do you know that?”
“How do you think?”
“Oh. Oh! Oh, gross! Why’d you have to say that, man!”
“Blame him,” Yuri snapped. “I don’t need the help of some meathead nobleman. I’ll rescue her myself.” 
But Balthus just shrugged - as if this really was such a simple thing. “Why can’t we both rescue her?” 
“Because I don’t know you!”
“I just introduced myself. Balthazar von Adalbrecht, call me Balthus.” Balthus stuck out his hand, waiting expectantly for a handshake. “And who’re you supposed to be, kid from nowhere?” 
“I’m nobody. You ought to forget you ever saw me.” Rhea was already going to give him an earful over allowing himself to be seen. But Balthus was standing so expectantly, and despite that awful little trivia Yuri just shared he was still looking him in the eyes. “What do you even want from me?”
“What, you think that just because I want to help it means I want something from you?” Yes, that was exactly what Yuri thought. He wasn’t stupid. “Listen, pal. Even nobodies need some help here and there. I’m not exactly a saint, but any half-decent person would want to help you out. Since I’m the strongest, coolest guy in Garreg Mach, that means I have to help. It’s not exactly complicated.”
“There’s no such thing as decent people,” Yuri said sourly. 
Balthus whistled. “You’re a regular beam of sunshine, aren’tcha?”
“I haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”
“You haven’t what now?”
“Take Balthus with you, Yuri.” Lady Rhea’s tone brooked no argument, and Yuri had to give up. It was always a waste of time arguing with a noble. They would just take what they wanted anyway. “You two will take our elite church knights and rescue Byleth. I can lead the way - I think I know where Aelfric and Byleth are.” Rhea’s expression darkened, sending something crawling up Yuri’s spine. Seeing a dangerous expression on her felt…well, it felt more dangerous than usual. “I suspect he is desecrating a corpse right now.” 
“Wow,” Balthus said, impressed. “What the hell did I just walk into?”
“Captain Jeralt will arrive with the forces soon. We’ll leave then.” Rhea turned around, and Yuri and Balthus exchanged troubled looks. Her voice was poisonous. If she sounded like this, what expression was she hiding so carefully? “Aelfric will learn what Byleth’s true family is capable of.”
“Hell yeah!” Balthus cried, pumping a fist. “Go, fam!”
“We aren’t fam!” Yuri snapped. “What does that even mean?”
“But Lady Rhea just said that the bad guy’s gonna learn what -”
“That doesn’t make you fam.”
“But I’m on the team, and the team’s fam, so -”
“What is fam!”
At the time, Yuri’s only consolation had been the fact that he wouldn’t have to deal with Balthus for very long. He was a strong fighter with a compassionate heart, but if Yuri never saw another wealthy and spoiled nobleman again it would be too soon. Yuri hadn’t noticed when Byleth entered his heart, but that final and disastrous kidnapping session had proven it - whether they wielded the weapon or were the weapon, the people closest to you always hurt the most. Better to close your heart.
There were a lot of things Yuri hated about himself. The list was too long to count. But there was always one thing about himself that Yuri hated the most. One thing he just couldn’t stand.
Yuri just couldn’t close his heart. He just couldn’t do it. Every time he failed, and every time he had regretted it. There was no benefit to letting people in. He just couldn’t stop.
But Balthus had saved Byleth’s life that day. So maybe there was a benefit or two. Every once in a great while. 
If you were lucky. 
_________
Three days after Yuri and a moron saved a little girl from a bastard, Abyss received a visitor. 
Yuri received him outside the ruined classroom. It would probably be more professional to bring him to Yuri’s office or something, but Yuri frankly intended to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Team up with the church knights once and suddenly they think that they have the right to go stomping all around Abyss. But you couldn’t exactly tell the captain of the church knights to get off your lawn, so Yuri told Byleth that he would be back in a few minutes and stood outside the classroom in increasingly frustrated wait. 
Byleth had made big eyes at him. She obviously hadn’t wanted him to go. Ugh. He really hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a surprise administrative meeting that took five hours and never accepted Yuri’s input into anything. Yuri was re-teaching Byleth poker - she had undoubtedly already learned before she lost her memory, which was another strike against the ‘secret lovechild of Lady Rhea’ theory that had been admittedly punctured by the corpse of her mother - and she was unsurprisingly excellent at it. Girl was a genius in math.
But Jeralt didn’t show up wearing armor. He was wearing casual, battered furs, leather, and a familiar canvas jacket. Surface people were always tense and anxious in Abyss, expecting to get mugged by rats with daggers at any moment, but there was a different quality about Jeralt’s anxiety. He seemed as if he was steeling himself for something. 
“Yuri.” Jeralt’s voice was always attractively husky, but it was closer to hoarse now. “Doing well?”
Yuri bowed, noting the bandage on Jeralt’s temple. “Yes, sir. All healed up. And you? That hit you took looked nasty.” 
Jeralt huffed a laugh, rubbing the bandage. “I’ve taken hits from bigger monsters. Don’t worry about it. I would have come to visit earlier, but they only let me out of bed this morning.” Jeralt cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Ah…is Byleth doing alright?”
“She’s been having nightmares, but she’s fine.”
“She is?” Jeralt looked unreasonably alarmed. “Is she waking up at night? What are you doing to help? Tea -”
“She’s been sleeping in my bed the past few nights, so I’m keeping an eye on her.” Yuri eyed Jeralt, suspicions only growing. There was something off about this conversation. “Can I help you, captain?”
“Right. Ah, right.” Jeralt shifted again and coughed. Mysteriously, he took off his cap and held it tightly. “I was hoping to drop in and say hello. See how she is.” 
Like hell he would.
“Byleth is busy doing her schoolwork.” Yuri’s voice could have frozen a flame. “You’ll have to come back later.”
“We don’t have to talk.” There was something old and weary in Jeralt. His husky voice was more of a rasp. “I just want to see her.”
Before he could restrain himself, Yuri snapped, “And why do you want to see her so badly?”
Snapping at the captain of the church knights. Fantastic. This was how you protected people - by alienating everybody else who wanted to help. That would do it. 
Jeralt did want to help. The man had been withdrawn and quiet during their rescue mission, but he had been the first to rescue Byleth’s mother’s corpse and prevent it from melting into the monster. He probably would have been the first to rescue Byleth if Yuri hadn’t gotten there first - if Yuri hadn’t used a careful vein of magic to swap positions with her. Byleth had landed safely near the entrance and Aelfric had found a nasty surprise when he turned to look down upon a girl laid out on an altar and came eye-to-eye with Yuri’s dagger. 
But that didn’t mean anything. Aelfric had helped Yuri and Byleth too, and look where that got them. Yuri didn’t know anything about Jeralt. He could have ulterior motives. He worked closely with Rhea, who was nothing but ulterior motives. The only person Yuri was certain didn’t have ulterior motives was Balthus, who was just clearly too stupid. 
Jeralt didn’t grow angry or defensive. He just looked a little sad. Yuri crossed his arms, fighting the urge to bristle. “How are you holding up, kid?”
“I wasn’t the one who was kidnapped.”
Jeralt huffed a small laugh. “It ain’t exactly easy on the onlookers, either. It’s alright if you’re not alright.”
“I’ll persevere somehow.” Yuri was quickly losing track of this conversation. Why was Jeralt asking about this? “Did Rhea tell you to check up on us?
“Rhea doesn’t know I’m here. She’s…strongly encouraged me to stay away from Abyss.” Jeralt’s mouth twisted unhappily. “She’s right. I really shouldn’t be here. I just…wanted to see her.” 
“And why is that?”
For a long, long moment, Jeralt didn’t answer. Great. He couldn’t even think of a good lie. He couldn’t even say that he wanted to make sure she wasn’t injured, or assure himself that he had gotten her out of there intact - Yuri would have even believed those bland excuses. But he had nothing to say for himself at all. How suspect. 
The door creaked open, and Yuri spun around just in time to see Byleth poking her head out of the classroom. Yuri opened his mouth, ready to reprimand her and shuffle her quickly back inside where no suspicious men resided, but he was too slow. The second Byleth saw Jeralt her eyes widened, and Yuri saw her eyes light up for the first time. 
“Jeralt!” Byleth cried. 
She dived forwards, and Jeralt automatically crouched down to accept the hug. They squeezed each other tightly - Byleth hanging on for dear life, Jeralt fighting shuddering breaths. His hand pressed on the back of her lead, warm and protective. 
So she could speak. Yuri had been wondering. Her first word of her new life was…Jeralt. That was fine. Good for her. And Jeralt.
“Hey, kid,” Jeralt rasped, throat thick. “How’ve you been?”
Byleth patted the top of his head. 
Alright, that was enough. Yuri took the white collar of Byleth’s neat little navy blue dress, pulling gently until he reeled her back away from Jeralt. The effect was somewhat like a scruffed kitten, but whatever worked. Yuri’s carefully tied puffy twin pigtails didn’t help the kitten impression. 
“Don’t run towards strange people,” Yuri scolded. “This is why you keep getting kidnapped.”
Byleth wriggled around until Yuri finally sighed and released her. Jeralt slowly rose, but Byleth ran back towards him and tugged hard at his jacket. Jeralt raised a patient eyebrow, watching Byleth carefully. 
Yuri had distantly noticed it before, but now that Byleth drew attention to the jacket it was obvious. It was a very familiar jacket. Not identical to Byleth’s old one - the giant canvas jacket that she never took off - but it was similar in fit and cut. 
“What do you need?” Jeralt asked. Byleth tugged harder at the jacket, as if she was trying to pull it off him. “Use your words, kid. You can do it.” Byleth heroically attempted to rip the jacket from Jeralt’s body. Yuri made a strangled noise, but Jeralt didn’t blink. “You have to start speaking up sometime. I bet Yuri over there wants to hear your voice too.” 
Byleth’s eyebrows ticked together, but she finally released the jacket. She stared fixedly at Jeralt, who amicably allowed himself to be stared at. Finally, she said, “Aelfric lost jacket.” 
Automatically, Yuri corrected, “Aelfric lost my jacket.”
“Aelfric lost my jacket,” Byleth parroted. She poked at Jeralt’s canvas jacket again. “I want the jacket again.”
Turned out that there was one way Byleth could be even more trouble - opening her mouth. Yuri sighed, already regretting his life. “Byleth, you’re being incredibly rude. You can’t just ask adults to -”
But Jeralt was already shucking his jacket, with no hesitation or thought, and passing it to Byleth. She brightened, clutching the thick material tightly and burying her face in it. She smelled it deeply, making Jeralt’s expression crease into something absolutely unfamiliar to Yuri, before swinging the jacket on and allowing it to swallow her up yet again. This edition went to her knees, looking far more like a baggy coat than anything else, but she beamed up at Jeralt in absolute joy anyway. She turned to Yuri, spreading her arms out and silently bragging about how great her new jacket was.
Something that should have been obvious weeks ago suddenly became extremely obvious. “You’re the one who gave her that first jacket. The one she never took off.” 
“She never took it off?” Jeralt smiled a little, but the weight on his shoulders only seemed to grow. “I gave it to her after I rescued her from her kidnappers last time. She was - ah, she just seemed cold. I assumed she had thrown it away or something.”
“You’re the one who rescued her?” Hadn’t Lady Rhea mentioned something about this? “Wait - are you the one who brought Byleth to Garreg Mach?”
“Yup. It’s why I wanted to see her again.” Jeralt patted the top of Byleth’s head, who swelled her chest in pride. “She’s picked up a habit of getting into trouble.”
That did explain it. No wonder he was invested. After so much work invested in keeping her alive, Yuri would want to check up on her too. Why couldn’t he just say that?
Byleth looked seriously up at Jeralt. “Thank you for the jacket.” 
“I knew you had manners in there somewhere.” Jeralt crouched down again, looking just above Byleth’s head. Yuri had noted weeks ago that she didn’t like eye contact, but it seemed that Jeralt knew that too. “Try not to lose that one. But if you do, come right back to me and I’ll give you another one. Alright?”
Byleth nodded. 
Jeralt sighed. He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Byleth leaned into the touch a little. “Be more careful from now on. Your world will only grow more dangerous as you get older. You have to be ready, so train hard.” Impulsively, he took the cap off his head and placed it on her own. It fell over her eyes immediately, far too large for her, but she hurriedly pushed it upwards. “Listen to that brother of yours. His life looks hard enough already, so don’t make it any harder.” 
Byleth’s eyes widened. “Brother?”
“Brother?” Yuri squawked. “Please, Captain, Rhea hired me to supervise her. This is just an arrangement.” 
Jeralt shifted to look at him, and Yuri saw flint in his eyes for the first time. “We need to separate Byleth from her past life even further. We don’t know if Aelfric told anybody about the identity of Byleth’s mother. Connecting her to you is safest for both of you. Guess I should have asked first, but it’s a matter of her safety.” 
“This is an arrangement.”
“Then arrange a fake relationship. You need some excuse for why you’re joined at the hip. Pretend she’s some orphan you took in under your wing - it’s not even a lie.” Jeralt straightened, turning to look at Yuri for the first time. His expression was somber and serious, but he looked smaller without his jacket. “Look, kid. I admit I wasn’t happy when Rhea passed her off to you. Rhea has her own reasons for everything she does, and you’re…” 
He trailed off, clearly struggling for political correctness, before Yuri took pity on him. “An ex-whore who moonlights as Rhea’s lackey?”
“Saints, kid, that’s not what I was about to say -”
“What’s a whore?” Byleth asked loudly.
Yuri looked down at her. “Somebody who’s so good at something that they never do it for free.” Byleth nodded sagely, and Yuri looked back up at Jeralt. Jeralt didn’t seem happy, but Yuri wasn’t paid enough to entertain him. “And even if you weren’t crass enough to say it, it’s the truth. You don’t trust Rhea and I do whatever she says. Trust me, Captain, I wouldn’t be happy either. You don’t have to cozy up to me.”
“I wasn’t happy because you’re seventeen years old,” Jeralt said firmly. Yuri rolled his eyes. Not this shit again. What was with adult men always reminding him that he was in his teens? Did they get off on it or something? “I knew Rhea would put her with somebody she trusted absolutely. I just didn’t want that person to be you.” 
Of course he didn’t! Who the hell would? Yuri was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion about Jeralt’s relationship to Byleth - nobody else would have thought to rescue a corpse before an imminent battle - and no self-respecting father would want their daughter around somebody like Yuri. Byleth was pure and innocent. As innocent as a thirteen year old could ever be - wiped clean of her old life, completely noncognizant of the world around her. How often had she seen the sun since she met Yuri? She hadn’t even spoken before now. The girl had a damned imaginary friend, for heaven’s sake. Byleth was innocent in every way, and Yuri was filthy.
“Saints, kid, don’t give me that face. It’s not because of your background. It’s just obvious that you have more than enough on your plate. Don’t you have a city to govern? Evil errands to run for Rhea? I just don’t know how the hell you have time.” 
“Do you think I can’t do it?” Yuri snapped. “I have more than one skillset, you know.”
Jeralt exhaled heavily, scrubbing his face. “You are the least charitable - never mind.” He was uncharitable? Maybe he just didn’t buy stupid lies. “None of this is coming out right. What I’m trying to say is that you need whatever help you can get. Calling yourself siblings would make your life easier. But I’m hardly going to force you into it. Do whatever you want, kid. I’m not in charge of you.” Slightly quieter, he said, “I’m not in charge of either of you.” 
Yuri wanted to call Jeralt a bad father. He knew already that Jeralt was probably the best father he’d ever met. Taking up a job with somebody he clearly hated for the sake of staying near a daughter he was barely allowed to see. Who he couldn’t even claim, because some mysteriously evil people were after her and she was safest in complete anonymity. Some fathers would cheer at the opportunity to ditch their daughters, but the pain in Jeralt’s voice was real. And yet he wanted to tie her to Yuri. 
It would only contaminate her. He was already ruining her. Yuri had to stay away, he had to keep her out - if only for her own sake. To protect her from Yuri, and to protect Yuri from the world. Yuri couldn’t let anybody else inside. Too dangerous for everybody.
But refusing Jeralt’s proposal wouldn’t protect her from the world. And maybe a father was thinking about a factor that Yuri had missed completely. 
The fact that her mother was a shockingly well-preserved corpse and her father had to disown her. Rhea was somehow related to her, which was bad enough, but she couldn’t claim her either. Even Yuri had a mother. To the world, Byleth was alone. That was…
“Fine.” Yuri had lost this battle. He had probably also lost the war. Whatever. He fought for his own side anyway. “But I won’t force her to call me that. She’s not terribly attached to me.”  
It was the rational thought. Yuri had repeatedly left her alone with a freak and allowed her to get kidnapped again. It was a miracle her real family hadn’t fired Yuri the second she got kidnapped. 
But Byleth’s brow furrowed in outrage. Yuri fought the urge to startle - he had almost forgotten she was there. “I like you.”
The words stopped Yuri short. He wasn’t sure why. They weren’t strange words, were they? 
His hesitation must have been obvious, even to Byleth, because she promptly grabbed him in a giant hug. It was small, comforting, and warm. Her small body fit nicely next to his, and when he folded his arms over her he could almost envelop her. 
Jeralt just gave him a wry grin. “I guess you were too far away to hear. Remember how I was right next to you when you swapped positions with her?” Yuri nodded. “When she appeared in your place, I scooped her up and put her on my horse immediately. I think she knew what had happened. She called out your name. Damn near tried to jump from my horse and run towards you too.” 
That didn’t seem right. But she had hugged him after the fight, hadn’t she? Balthus had called it adorable. Come to think of it, Balthus had asked if Byleth was his sister too…Yuri hadn’t known what to say. He didn’t know what to say now.
Jeralt propped a hand on a hip, smiling. “You see that, Byleth? Yuri didn’t know you liked him. From now on you’ll have to speak up and tell him you like him a lot.” Byleth nodded fastidiously. “Attagirl. Hey, can you take that book from the inside pocket and pass it to your brother? It has something he might want to see.” 
Byleth eagerly separated from Yuri and completed the errand, pulling out a small book from a jacket pocket and passing it to Yuri. Yuri opened it and began flipping through it, just barely catching scraps of documents and notes that came slipping out. 
“Check the last few pages,” Jeralt said. “We found it in Aelfric’s things. Actually, that klepto student found it. Is that guy a friend of yours or something?”
“Or something,” Yuri muttered. 
Byleth stared up at Jeralt. “Is Balthus my brother too?”
“No,” Yuri said.
Jeralt shrugged. “If you want. He’s rich, so maybe you can fleece him.”
“I already tried,” Yuri said distantly, flipping through the book. Something about four crests…notes on a very familiar crest. Balthus’ pilfered paperwork had already revealed that Aelfric had targeted him for his crest. That had burned. Yuri was trying not to think about it. “He’s broke and only attracted to older women.” 
Pity, too - Yuri could have had an excellent sucker on that reel. He made his move during the ‘post-rescue a little girl drinking party!’, but Balthus just pointedly pretended he didn’t pick up on what Yuri was doing and started talking loudly about how Yuri reminded him of a hypothetical younger brother. It was frustrating. Yuri still didn’t know why Balthus had helped him. There was probably a secret motive that Yuri just hadn’t picked up on yet. Or maybe Balthus actually -
Yuri stopped short. This page was about Balthus. About the von Adalbrechts, and some sort of mysterious crest in their family legend. Right alongside a personality profile on Balthus…notes on his attendance and conduct issues…character notes…records of meetings and conversations with Balthus…lists of broken school rules…apparently psychologically unstable…
Yuri flipped a page backwards. It was on him. He caught a few paragraphs on his history before he quickly flipped forward. He didn’t want to know what Aelfric thought of his personality. Probably just called him a slut for two straight pages. Definitely marked him down as psychologically unstable.
But there were people besides Yuri and Balthus in the notebook. Right after Balthus’ incomplete profile, there was another name and short descriptor. Constance von Nuvelle. Another rich bitch noblewoman. Current student of the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery…extremely high grades for her first few years at the school before they plummeted half a year ago. Now at risk of dropping out. Extensive record of conduct issues, same as Balthus. Aelfric made note of…severe psychological instability, whatever that meant. And a certain crest…
Yuri flipped through Constance’s profile until he found another. Hapi, no last name - a commoner. Extensive hypothesizing on the power of her crest and little information about her. Current resident of a church in the middle of nowhere. Psychologically unstable.
“This explains why Aelfric was having those private meetings with Balthus,” Yuri muttered. “I guess we both have powerful crests. These two women must also have powerful crests…but why keep tabs on them specifically? Why keep tabs on all of us?”
“Aelfric talked about blood a lot,” Byleth said seriously. Yuri really shouldn’t have left him alone with her. 
“I should contact Lady Rhea about this,” Yuri said. He continued flipping through the book - going through Yuri Leclarc, Balthus von Adalbrecht, Constance von Nuvelle, and Hapi’s profiles again and again. Four strangers placed right next to each other, thrown together by fate. “She’ll definitely be interested in learning about Constance and Hapi.” 
Byleth peered over his arm, trying to take a glance at the book. Yuri let her. She could barely read. Maybe secrets would incentivize her to keep learning. “Are they important?”
“Probably not,” Yuri said. 
But even then, he had lied. Even then, he had already known. 
Call it intuition. 
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plantboiart · 2 months
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Hello. List of what animals I believe each just roll with it pc I know would be. I am objectively correct but if you disagree please tell me anyways I crave other people’s opinions to steal.
Riptide
Jay: a bird, obviously. Saying she’s a jaybird is easy and low hanging fruit and extremely valid. Personally I think she’s maybe a corvid since very smart but also absolute fucking menace. Honestly? Could be a seagull. Loud and lives near water and also smart but also? Absolutely insane. Yeah sure I could say she’s something cool like an eagle or whatever but I think in our hearts we all know she’s a seagull.
Gillion: of course he is a sea creature! But what kind? Fish. More specifically? Swordfish. Of course. What else could he be (he could be a shark but shhhh im saving that one for later)
Chip: the bastard man himself! Which animals are the biggest bastards? Raccoons. Yes I am basic. He’s either a raccoon or a little dog. I am specifically thinking my mom’s 11 year old small dog who yells at men and tries to pick a fight with every single dog that is larger than her. That’s some Chip energy right there.
Goobleck: bro who knows like what the hell is that thing i do not. Hes whatever he ate most recently. Bros fursona is just straight up slime. He is an enigma.
Prime defenders (+Ashe I don’t care that technically he was just a guest he deserves to be here)
William: ravens, black cats, bats, butterflies, snakes, crows. All associated with death which makes sense for our little ghost guy! But of course we can’t forget wolves! He has two wolves inside of him after all. But also? He is not cool enough to be a wolf. That man is a black cat with a dream and sharp sharp claws.
Vyncent: I think it would be funny to call him a rat. Since he eats them. And also he just kinda is a rat. But no, I believe he is a deer. Don’t really know why, just….. vibes.
Dakota: my beloved son. He’s a yappy little dog. Bouncing all over the place and screaming at evil-doers. I believe in him.
Ashe: strong cat energy. Is william already a cat? Yes. But so is ashe. He’s like a fully gray cat with short hair :)
Apotheosis
Rumi/Elena: fox! Because Sunny :) also because I can’t really think of an animal that would be a good representation for an identity crisis
Peter: “lizard” no. Peter Sqloint is a mouse. Just a lil guy. I’m right fuck you he. Is. A. Mouse.
Thanatos: spider! Kinda scary and lots of people dont like but in reality just an awesome dude. Shoutout to my friend’s pet spider Mörkö I love them
Blood in the bayou
Rolan: shark!!!! Im right and i need to say it. That man is a fucking shark. I love sharks. Sharks are generally misunderstood as violent and evil but they are just lil guys. Fits Rolan being an evil alien monster but just also a lawyer. (Also i just really like sharks)
Rand: y’all ever cry about pigeons? How we domesticated them and then abandoned them when we didnt need them anymore? How they dont even know how to make proper nests because they didnt need to for so long? Yeah. Im normal about this campaign.
Kian: he’s so hard to figure out because like…….. honestly? In canon? Weve got no fucking clue what his personality is actually like. We dont get a single moment with all the masks off and just the person underneath. The closest we get is him admitting that hes not really a rockstar and even that is so short and just. Auehgeh. This is why im obsessed with him btw i love a mystery i know will never be solved. Also so much room for headcanons. Is he a cat? A butterfly? A dog? A snake? A songbird? A dove? Something else? I dont know!! Lets go with a moth
The suckening
They are all cats. I mean c’mon. Emizel is a feral street cat that hisses at everyone who gets too close. Shilo is an indoor cat with an anxiety disorder. Arthur is their mother. Im correct.
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wxnheart · 1 year
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𝐅*𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭, 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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note: *Horny Heresy inTENSIFIES*; take this seriously. or don't. your choice. just keep fucking around and finding out.
Lion El'Jonson - You always wondered what a visibly frustrated Lion would look like but you didn't have the self-awareness to fucking STOP until it was too late. And so here you are, hands bound in shackles, suspended bare before the First himself. For a while, he said and did nothing save for his eyes roving along the contours of your body. That was soon replaced with a curious hand and the moan you let out was heretical, indeed.
Fulgrim - It's a... miracle you can walk. And talk. And still breathe. Mmm... you weren't expecting that out of Fulgrim were you? You look like you've fought a battle and lost while nary a hair is out of place on his head.
Perturabo - Turns out he's not an ass with a martyr complex where it counts. He's still an ass, though... who ironically has a nice ass. Who knew that armor hid so much. Bastard. He may or may not like when you smack it.
Jaghatai Khan - Simply put, you found out on his bike. You were stumbling for a bit afterward.
Leman Russ - Well you didn't have to fuck around for long. In fact, Leman was practically waiting for the moment to pounce, and pounce he did. There's a reason why he's The Wolf King because Leman had you howling all throughout the night, dear.
Rogal Dorn - Perhaps the most surprising encounter of the Primarch. Dorn has some freak bitch tendencies, let me tell ya. All the signs were there what with his fondness for the Pain Glove.
Konrad Curze - *stares in judgemental Sevatar.*
Sanguinius - Watching him succumb to his lust was so beautiful. He had you right where he wanted you, enveloped tightly in his arms, embraced fully with his wings. The Brightest One's eyes are so clouded with a feral desire. He leaned down, pressed a tentative kiss on the pulse of your neck, and you were putty in his arms.
Ferrus Manus - Yeah, Ferrus is many things but when it comes to the matter of the flesh, um... yeah, you had to make the first move. He's got the spirit, though.
Angron - Whew. You fucked around and found out, alright. You riled Angron up so much, all you remember is him growling, muttering something in his native Nucerian tongue, and the next thing you know, your clothes were in tatters around you and he looked feral as he eyed your naked body. Oh.
Roboute Guilliman - Turns out he's a fan of office sex; you fucked around so much that Guilliman had your ass finding out on his desk. With his head buried between your legs. Please be quiet, my dear. There are people beyond those four walls. And yes, please run your fingers through his hair some more. Tug on it a little, too.
Mortarion - *stares in seventy times seven whilst surrounded by seven of the Death Guard.*
Magnus the Red - You thought Guilliman was the only one who liked it when you pulled his hair? Comes with a side of... pleasurable Warp shenanigans.
Horus Lupercal - The hoochiest of the hoochie daddies. The Primarch meets your bullshit with the most blissfully arrogant smile ever and proceeds to keep you up the entire night, reminding you why the Emperor named him Warmaster. Those tactics in the bedroom are devastating, babe. You're practically a zombie the next day.
Lorgar Aurelian - D'aww, look at Lorgar's inner dom coming out. All that resentment came out in one of the best hatefucks of your life. Kudos to you, darling.
Vulkan - You fuck around and find out and it turns into an all-night bear hug bonanza. But naked.
Corvus Corax - He puts his abilities to... good use. "Nevermore", quoth the Raven as he pulled you into the comfortable embrace of the darkness and made you his wonderful Lenore.
Alpharius Omegon - GOTTA FUCK 'EM ALL! ALPHA LEGION!
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sweetnsour1 · 2 years
Text
11:13:02
Fluff, Bakugou x female reader, 2/4
Read part 1
Part of the Cute as hell Collection
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"That!" You followed her pink finger as she pointed across the room. "How do you put up with that?"
Bakugou was barking something at Deku as he snatched your duffel away from the confused green-haired hero. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. You didn't want to make his mood any worse than the officer had. He'd never take it out on you, but here at the Class A reunion weekend...no one else at Momo's beach house had the same guaranteed safety that you did. You coughed to hide a chuckle at the way he went out of his way to shove his shoulder into Midoriya as he stomped over to the staircase. You opened your mouth, but Mina yelled at him instead.
"Hey! Leave her stuff down here. She's sleeping with me tonight." You giggled as you felt her cheek squish into yours. He turned...choosing to glare at her instead of look at you.
"The fuck she is-"
"Actually, Bakugou...girls are down here and boys are up there." He narrowed his eyes at the earphone jack used to direct him up the stairs.
"That's stupid-"
"It's not stupid. It's nostalgic...it's like the dorms again!" Uravity clapped her hands together before downing the rest of her drink with a soft hiccup.
"Ribbit."
"She wasn't even in our dorms!"
"That's funny...could've sworn I remembered her roaming the halls once or twice."
"Nosy bastard!"
Bakugou lunged at Kaminari. He ran off to hide behind Jirou, who didn't flinch. She had already resumed her conversation with Hagakure as the men danced around her. Yea, Katsuki may have been in a bad mood, but you would never get tired of being in a room full of people that understood him well enough to tease him like this. You heard a gravelly voice above you and didn't need to look up to know who was resting their chin on top of your head.
"Calm down, man. You'll get her back in a couple days." You tilted your head up to grin at your self proclaimed brother-in-law. "Thanks for dragging him here, y/n." You widened your eyes.
"I don't know what you mean, Kiri? Katsuki begged me to make time for you guys. You know how he loves celebrating with people." You earned a hug and a laugh. He released you back to Mina and walked across the room to greet his feral friend, saving Kaminari in the process.
You frowned a little at the sight of your bag being tugged from his grip. Part of you had hoped he'd win his argument. You didn't really want to be in a bed without him. You'd done that the last six nights and had hoped to be settled in his arms finally. You turned when you felt someone poking your cheek.
"You like him so much still. It's kinda gross." You rolled your eyes and laughed.
"Shut up, Mina." Your eyes followed the furrowed lines on his pouty face, before drifting down to those same black sweats he would've had to change out of if that officer hadn't stopped you when he did. You shrugged. "He's likeable."
"You must be into some weird shit, huh?" You blushed as Mina turned to the rest of the girls sitting around the kitchen island. "Let's start off with truth or dare!!!"
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Go read part 3
Go read through Cute as hell
Masterlist
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shinygemstone · 7 months
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HERE IS A LIST OF THE 30 MAIN KIPO AUs I WANT BUT WILL NEVER HAVE BECAUSE THE FANFIC COMMUNITY IS TINY IN ORDER OF SPOILERINESS (FEWEST SPOILERS FIRST OBVIOUSLY)
1. An AU where Kipo doesn't end up on the surface in the first episode, and has to go through the events with the mega monkey still looking for her
2. An AU in which all of Kipo's people are actually dead, and she's the only survivor. Depression for everyone!!
3. An AU where Margot never betrayed Wolf, and the two have a very close and codependent relationship. Bonus points if Wolf gets kidnapped by Scarlemagne
4. An AU where Wolf's wolf parents never actually betrayed her and raised her alongside the other children. Wolf girl wolf.
5. AU where the protagonists end up separated after Ratland, with Kipo and Benson trying their best to escape Scarlemagne's place without Scarlemagne realizing they're there while Wolf, Mandu, and Dave try to save them
6. AU like #1, except Lio fucking dies and Kipo's body now assumes it is in danger a lot more. So now she's dealing with the mega monkey and turning into the mega jaguar
7. Kipo gets along a little too well with the timbercats, and they kind of adopt her. Parental Yumyan and Molly. They're not surprised to find out she's part cat and teach her how to properly kitty
8. In which Lio turns out to be the mega monkey, somehow.
9. In which Kipo was raised on the surface, and is kind of known as the local feral half cat creature. Naturally, Scarlemagne kidnaps her for weapon usage and oops. Guess he has to teach the feral out of her
10. In which Jamack joins the protagonists (if you didn't think my man would be here you're wrong)
11. Let Kipo get upset about the whole mega jaguar thing PLEASE
12. Song and Lio raise Kipo, while Song is suppressing the mutagen and struggling more and more as she gets older.
13. Song turns out to fill Dr. Emilia's role, and is actually trying to end mutekind.
14. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, but mistakes her for a normal human (somehow) so Kipo grows up in the science burrow believing mutes killed her parents and that what Emilia is doing is justified. Bonus points if she's Emilia's protege/assistant/intern
15. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, knowing that she's Song and Lio's daughter, and decides she can use Kipo as a weapon. This would involve a lot of dehumanization and likely good brother Scarlemagne/Hugo. Also Lio? Totally dead
16. AU where Lio manages to yoink Hugo. That's the AU. Hugo and Lio and Kipo as family.
17. AU #16 with angst: Lio gets captured, so it's just Hugo and Kipo. Bonus points if Kipo grows up in Ratland
18. For even more angst, Scarlemagne kidnaps Kipo, raising her in his blooming empire. Except Scarlemagne has no idea how to raise a child, especially not one who's half mega jaguar.
19. Where Mulholland doesn't help Kipo, and Scarlemagne's coronation goes as planned.
20. Where Emilia kidnapping the mutes was a trap, and it works as planned. Kipo is in for such a bad time.
21. Where what Emilia did to the mutes she kidnapped mutes is a lot more horrific than in cannon.
22. WOLF BOTHERS TO REPLACE STALKY
23. Margot changes her mind about betraying Wolf sooner, and Emilia never captures any of the protagonists. Consequently, Emilia sneaks into timbercat village to conduct her evil plans.
24. Instead of Yumyan, Kipo gets hit by the cure. Consequently, the decision is made to have the mega jaguar deal with all subsequent human incidents. This prevents It's a Trap from happening.
25. Kipo gets hit by the cure, except it works. No more mega jaguar, but she gets back to timbercat village.
26. Kipo goes through with sinking the cruise ship. Insert huge crisis (and maybe Song, Lio, or both of them rejecting Kipo/treating her like a monster. Please. I live for angst)
27. AU where Dave kills child Benson, and is a reoccurring side character who's literally just a bastard
28. Fun Gus Monster Emilia. Like just IMAGINE if she took Gus' DNA instead of the mega walrus. Sludge monsters are underrated imo, and she could do so much fucking damage.
29. Emilia gets stuck as a half mute, and gets shoved in prison. Maybe with Hoag.
30. SCARLEMAGNE LIVES
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amuseoffyre · 1 year
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OFMD S2 Speculation
I put together a little list of things I think are coming in S2 on twitter, and I’m stashing it here too in case the bird snuffs it.
As S1 was Stede going through his best then worst and figuring things out, S2 is going to be Ed's story
Hornigold. Why else have Jack mention him, especially when so much of Ed's past is shaped by Hornigold and his father.  I suspect he's the villain for S3, but I like the idea of him being there through S2 like the shark in Jaws, finally appearing at the end to ruin everything 
Which leads me into the belief we're getting 3 season. S1 is A New Hope. S2 is going to be Empire Strikes Back, with one captured and/or forcibly separated with an “I love you”/“I know” vibe. S3 is going to be their Return of the Jedi :D (And in this story Izzy gets to be Lando - sold Stede out, saves him (hm. If I follow this train of thought that makes Stede the Leia. Stede ending up in a metal bikini... oh dear))
Izzy is 100% getting a tasty arc, especially since he’s dealt with Blackbeard before but has never been around Kraken!Ed. I also love the idea of him, against his better judgement, acknowledging Stede's bonkers genius. Izzy respects people who *earn* their way instead of buying a way in. I think he's going to see Stede in a whole new light. Stede&Iz brotrip in S3!
This probably won't be until S3 if we get it, but Stede's obsession with fake heads is how they finally get away: Blackbeard's death famously involved his head hanging from the mast of his ship. What if Ed snipped his hair, kept the clippings to made a fake head and escape? (“Our old lives will be gone. Dead” - one down, one to go)
I suspect Ivan is toast. Jim, when motivated by very vengeance, will take it out on the people they know to be guilty. Ivan was one of the two people who was involved in the marooning and is the one who is in the room with the feral assassin with no idea of their full skillset 
Pretty sure that Jackie is married to all of the Siete Gallos and diverted Jim from killing more hubs because she's a cunning old fox who knows how the game works. Jackie's proved she knows how Jim ticks and she played on that like a virtuoso in their last confrontation.
Ed isn't the only one flipping the bird to the king. Izzy sold out too, in order to save Ed, but he seems to have forgotten this now that he's a pirate again. I'd like to see him being very surprised when that comes back around to bite him. 
I am VERY suspiciously watching the half-orange. I feel like it's very important that Alma kept a bit and Stede kept a bit and I wrote a whole fic that involved it. I am suspicious bastard by nature :D
This is less speculation and more desire: I want Ed and Stede to end up chained together before they've had a chance to make-up. I want them to have to escape while bitching and bickering and fighting all the way. Inspired by the Obi-Wan, Anakin & Dooku episode of Clone Wars 
I am very excited. Can you tell?
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kalorphic · 1 year
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Can i ask for ROs reaction to MC being used? Like domestical things like someone keeps making MC do their job or getting coffee. And just in case u didnt get the amount of support u need, i think ur amazing: ur characters are all well written, ur twine story format is eye-catching, your gentle way with answering questions is appreciated and your complexion is beautiful ♡♡♡
I know this ask is old, but thank you so much for your compliments, lovely 🥹🤍 I can’t claim credit for the UI though, that’s all on the incredible @/outoftheblue-if !!
K: would have been informed by their minions in your department about this person. Luckily they’re at HQ, so they can get to you quickly. Fury sparks in their chest when they see you happily getting your user colleague a coffee. K practically prowls across the room, minions frantically throwing themselves out of the way, and makes eye contact with the bastard, who goes so pale, they might as well be dead. Good, thinks K, nobody messes with what’s mine. “You know who I am?” A nod. “You know who they are to me?” Another nod. K grins, all teeth. “Then you must be one stupid bastard.”
A: frowns at the sight before them. You’re giving a person a slightly strained smile as they dump another pile of folders, clearly their own work, on your desk. A is about to go over there and politely ask that the person do their own work in future, when said person snaps their fingers in your face and laughs as you flinch. It makes A’s hackles rise, and they’re by your side in seconds, shoving the folders back into the person’s hands with too bright eyes, a vicious smile, and enough force to make them stumble a few steps back. “Try that again, and I promise that you’ll regret it.”
Reese: feels their hands clench into fists as the anger wraps it’s way around them like an old friend. They’re usually so good at controlling their temper, but watching this person take advantage of you really ticks Reese off. Fortunately for your colleague, you catch sight of them and smile, allowing Reese to take a deep breath and force the tension from their body, returning the smile. Ahh, how whipped they were. Now calmer, Reese makes their way over to your user, and leans right down next to their ear. You don’t hear what Reese says, but the person goes an off green colour, frantically nodding their head. Your partner then turns back to you with a bright grin and a request to join them for lunch.
Luisa: raises her eyebrow at you running around for your lazy sack of shit colleague. She always knew that your good-nature would end up getting you into trouble, but lucky for you, your girlfriend wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood today. She makes her way over to the person who thought they could use you, and grabs the back of their shirt, yanking them up to their feet and letting her smirk grow just shy of feral at the high-pitched squeal they let out. How pathetic, she thinks. “I think it’s time for the little piggy to do their own work, no?”
Cody: has had enough, they’ve born witness to this person taking advantage of your kindness stupidity too many times. They hoped that you would eventually tell them to back off, but it’s day six and you’re still acting like their servant. The next time it happens, Cody spins around on their chair, sneers at your user, and says very loudly: “are you so utterly incapable of doing your work that you have to fob it off onto other people? You might as well just quit at this point and save yourself from further embarrassment.” The person flushes red, and Cody laughs and then adds, much quieter: “apart from MC, I’m the best this place has got, keep pissing me off and I’ll ruin you.”
Noah: let’s their instincts take over when they see you being taken advantage of. It makes their blood boil. Noah comes up behind your colleague, completely silent, and leans down into their space, making the person jump. They start to snap something before they realise just who has snuck up on them. Noah grins at the fear in their eyes and the useless attempts to speak. “How sweet, such a scared little mouse.” Noah can’t help but laugh as the person whimpers. “You’re not even worth my time, so you’re certainly not worth MC’s. However, I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give you a piece of advice…if you want to live a long life, you’ll do your own work from now on.”
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indignantlemur · 2 months
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Small delay in any art/writing updates! My fiancé and I are cat-sitting for a little over a week and these fluffy little bastards (affectionate) have declared war on anyone with the audacity to try to sleep between midnight and 5am.
Consolation prize cat pics in the meantime!
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Hildy is a little formerly-feral tabby, weighing in at a negligible 10-ish lbs (in comparison to the others). She's a little odd, but quite charming. She goes brrrrp! and ma-maow! whenever she sees us and tries to lick my fiancé's eyelids. We don't know why. It's probably better that we don't know. She's a more recent addition to my friend's household, so I don't know as much about her as the other two yet, but from what I understand her previous owners didn't take care of her at all and basically left her to the land. I will say that my friend has done an amazing job of socializing her and working on her fear-aggression and trust issues. I saw her briefly when she first arrived over a year ago and it's like she's a whole new cat now. 8/10 - Hildy's a little too quick to claw when overexcited for my preferences, but otherwise a lovely little moggy who loves cuddles and pets.
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Isaac Catsimov the distinguished (mostly blind at this point) flame-point Ragdoll gentleman, at a respectable 16lbs. Isaac doesn't believe in personal space, and for an old man (he's almost 18 now) he's surprisingly agile, as his pre-dawn parkour sessions can attest to. Great lungs, superb sound system: I do wish he'd sing something other than mournful cat-dirges at 3am however. He also slaps people in the face to 'politely' request a resource of some sort. We both take our thyroid meds together every morning. He's a good sport about it. 9/10 - Isaac loses a point for slapping me in the face this morning with his giant shovel paws because he stood in his own water dish and got fur in it, but I love him so much.
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And, saving my personal favourite for last, this is "Big Fellow" Atticus Finch (as he's listed in his vet records) the dark-bodied seal point Ragdoll-Maine Coon mix (and also the grandson of Isaac!), reigning supreme at roughly 20lbs of solid muscle and fluff. He runs like a badger, makes the most terrifyingly deep BAO! sound in the dead of the night when he's bored, and headbutts like a freight train at full speed with faulty breaks. He also likes to hold people's hands and cuddle their arms with all four of his feet. 15/10 - I love him more than life itself, and also fear I am slightly concussed.
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cosmiclion · 9 months
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Familiar AU angst hours: I know I said that hunger makes demons weak and vulnerable, but what if it makes them revert back to a mindless state? The longer they go without consuming a soul the closer they are to becoming the feral monsters that they so look down on.
And ever since he became Ciel’s guardian Sebastian hasn’t made a contract with anyone, what with all the time consuming work that comes with caring for a young child. Of course, since demons are immortal they can go years without really starving, but the thing is Sebas had already been a bit hungry when he first found the child. Sure the prospect of raising a little human and gaining his trust so that he’d later decide to make a contract with him sounded fun, but years go by and the Phantomhive boy still doesn’t mention it.
Conflicted, strange feelings start swirling around inside Sebas. While he does care for the kid and even feels protective of him (in his own demon way), he has never stopped viewing him as a potential meal. But if the kid never offers him his soul, does that mean he should just leave? If Ciel grows up and doesn’t need help and guidance anymore, why stay? Saving him and keeping him alive was just an experiment, right? Right?
To make matters worse, he starts to worry when he finds himself often fantasizing about the flavor that the past trauma has added to the young soul. He’s always been a patient calm demon, so what’s going on? Demons can also smell souls, and Ciel’s is mouth watering, oh how he’d love to open up his jaws like a giant wolf and swallow him whole.
Oh no.
He’s losing his mind. He hasn’t even gone looking for souls of dying people all this time, as that goes against his aesthetic. And of course the idiot bastard hasn’t talked to anyone about this. Which is why he doesn’t know Ciel has been studying demonology behind his back, knows everything about demons and contracts and actually plans to make a contract, but what he wants is for Sebas to be his familiar, which means he’ll be bound to him until he dies of old age (the little shit does view him as a parental figure but also wouldn’t mind having a demon by his side to help him gain power and smite his enemies, boys amirite?).
I haven’t fully decided how the story goes from here, but maybe it gets to a point where hunger overcomes Sebas for a while and Ciel has no choice but to confront him and forcefully bind him with the knowledge he has acquired, maybe also with Agni’s help (they have met Soma and Agni by now, more or less at the same point in time as in canon). After Sebas has calmed down, Ciel makes a promise: if he stays with him all his life and becomes his sword and shield, he can have his soul in the end, effectively making him a familiar demon; and in the meantime he can take the souls of any enemies they may kill whenever he gets hungry.
Tl; dr: Scrawny Victorian orphan catches demon like a pokémon.
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makima-s-most-smile · 8 months
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Trigun Maximum 7.2
Outside is a nice thunderstorm. There was a lightningstrike up close that was so strong I felt it rumble in the ground. *happy lizard* Sadly, I cannot stand outside to get peltered by those thicc, heavy raindrops. *somethingsomethingbeingasaneperson*
Much babble, but hopefully less heavy than the last post.
04: Bastards and the blues
What a title…
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Considering where Wolfwood comes from… cynicism is a coping mechanism… He doesn’t hit the nail on the head, but at least he cares about Vash, he tries to egg him on to talk about it. Not that Vash would ever take him up on it…
I just like this panel of Wolfwood. He looks so roughed up. Cutie.
Others have already talked about Vash. But how is Wolfwood coping? He is like so often all about Vash, but what about him and his needs? He got massively hurt in the fight with Midvalley, got fried by Vash’ power, tried to at least get Meryl&Milly out, because he himself can’t. His orphanage is still at stake. And he, like Vash, does not open up and takes it all upon himself. But unlike Vash, whose end goal is vaguely saving all of humanity from Knives, his goal is so much clearer but is absolutely dependent on Vash. Who is like this… And not a help at all.
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Vash and Wolfwood vibes. The upbeat idiot and his himbo follower.
What can I say but mob mentality, again? These are humanity's worst. How can people be so feral about killing an innocent and then turn around calling Vash a monster? Hypocrisy at work. Seeing this and still keeping onto his goal of saving everyone… 
Vash feels different here. This is Vash staying peaceful out of spite. He is hurt, he is at a loss, but he is unable to stray from his ideals. This Vash may even feel like he agrees with Knives, though he knows better than to act upon it. It would help talking about it with someone… Like that weird priest with the portable confessionary. I am sure you get a discount.
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Correction, the guy is Vash with more selfworth and less selfhate. Vash just puts himself down and suffocates any talk about himself. This guy really wanted to get to know Vash as a person. But Vash denies him that. Sure, he answers truthfully, but it drowns the conversation. Vash does it intentionally. And that guy zooms in on why.
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I love how soft Wolfwood looks in these panels. With “Double Team” this chapter is one of my favourites, just for the expressions. But he also looks like he is about to break down, too. But he is all about Vash.
While Vash is basically coping with alcohol, Wolfwood is swallowing his guilt and pain about his mission coming to an end soon, and the situation he will lead Vash into. I feel so much more for Wolfwood here.
Vash is coping badly and denying any help and closeness, most likely also due to the aftermath of dragon’s nest district and Colnago. He was shunned for what he is. But at the same time, he has people at his side and Vash doesn’t seem to value them. That is new people, like the two outsiders who make their living at the edge of society and known people, like Wolfwood. And I am starting to grow more and more miffed at Vash for that. Vash is so much about his difference from humans that he is unable to see the humans that reach out to him, that want him at their side. But he seems only aware of those that don’t. Talk about Vash ignoring what he preaches.
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Vash doesn’t appreciate or understand the meaning this little place has, he is too occupied with drinking away his pain. But Wolfwood does and he looks extremely grateful. Grateful enough that he chooses to let down his mask a bit and relax. And I am emotional about this. Vash is lonely in company, while Wolfwood is truly sidelined, truly the caretaker and truly alone with all the responsibility. But at least the old lady gives him some kind of respite. Heck, I am grateful for the old lady, too! I love her. Bartenders can truly be angels.
Vash is at a lowpoint. His true regret and depression shines through. One-eye is the same. Granny’s summary puts One-eye and Vash both on the same level. I take back my words that he has less self hatred than Vash. They are the same, they mirror each other. Both are outsiders with regrets about the past that are shunned again and again by society. But they keep on trying.
Forgetting your hurt and moving on… But in the end coming back to the same coping mechanism called alcohol. I do not truly agree, but I don’t think I truly get what One-Eye is saying, either. It sounds like the depressed kind of nihilism. But I think he gets Vash’ feeling of loneliness and hopelessness. That he will always return to being alone. It’s just that… I don’t think Vash is truly alone. Home, Meryl, Milly, Brandon, Wolfwood… those people know him and they stayed. (Okay, Meryl needs a break, but that does not mean she is gone forever).
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First, panels! I love how Wolfwood is positioned here. Like cerberus at the gates of hell, he stands at the entrance of the bar, shining from behind. He guides Vash to his fate.
Secondly, other things about the page. Vash feels Knives doing his pissing contest in the sky and runs out. But I think, this question here means so much more than that. It is Vash reassuring himself that Wolfwood is not there for Vash, but there against Vash. That the friendship they have is fake and that he is truly lonely. That even the person that stayed truest at his side isn’t there for him. In his depression Vash does not see Wolfwood for who he is. He can’t. 
His question is there to hurt himself. Vash is coming more and more undone. He looks for reasons to affirm his bitter feelings towards humanity. And the affirmation that Wolfwood is his enemy is enough that his control over himself slips.
And Wolfwood is honest as always. I wanna slap him for the: “I told ya from the start…” He is not completely wrong, but fucking eurythmics is really not the way to spell that out! But Wolfwood did not hide this, not really. And I have to give him credit for that. Lying wouldn’t make anything easier, it would make things worse. At least like this Vash is able to act with full knowledge. And he looks so pained. 
I wish both would say more. I wish they would clear the air between them. I wish Wolfwood could tell Vash that he is on his side, even if he started out as Knives’ minion. I wish Vash would ask Wolfwood for more. Because Vash knows Wolfwood, he knows his priorities. And helping a genocidal maniac does not agree with him trying to protect an orphanage. We know that Vash is able to put two and two together. But Wolfwood sees himself as a burden and cannot step out of his stoic position and Vash never learned to communicate feelings.
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Tearing down all the satellites is an intelligent move. Now the human settlements cannot share information easily and thus the human population is split into smaller groups that are thus easier to eradicate.
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“This”? This as in that his brother is decaying? And he is the cause for it? That he know feels like a gun is pointed at his chest and he needs to act now before his brother uses up all his power?
Elendira is so sure that she will die in the fallout of Knives’ tantrum. And that is sad. She doesn’t budge, though. She will stay at his side. Did she hope to stay til the end with Knives? Why? She likes non”-suicidal men”. Does she like Knives? It doesn’t look like infatuation. I still think of her as a nihilist. But now the whole “making smores while the world burns”-feeling is gone. She looks sad. I wanna know more about her! D;
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It feels by stressing that he will remember their shared time together, Vash disagrees with One-Eye. Be it with everything One-Eye said or just with parts of it, like ending up alone again. If that is what Vash disagrees with especially, then it would mean that Vash knows that Wolfwood is on his side despite being his guide, that he is not alone. Which would mean he at least starts to get out of his crunch and start to appreciate his companions again. Yay?
05: Late arrival to the end of the world
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LIAR! Sorry, but that is such a big lie. Vash is only ready for this, because he has no other choice. Knives forces Vash’ hands. Vash is so much about avoidance!
But saying that would mean he would open up to Wolfwood, who is visibly worried about Vash. And we cannot have that! Others caring for him.
And as “prepared” as Vash is, just the presence of his brother’s aura makes his skin literally crawl.
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Wolfwood is the same. He puts his own needs and pain on the backburner so Vash can do his best. He wants Vash to succeed. And we can’t have Vash being distracted just because Wolfwood just had a death vision.
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How about both are careful?
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And still, being warned and all, Wolfwood doesn’t want to leave Vash. He is ready to run after him to help him in any way against his brother. Until Elendira reminds him that he cannot.
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I love the double misdirection. We as readers are led to think that it is Elendira he will fight for Vash, but NOPE, it is Double Fang and Tripunisher of death. And at the same time in the story, Wolfwood avoids lying to Elendira, he avoids telling her where his loyalties lie.
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Only Elendira brings a BOW to a gunfight. And she wins!
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So, who caused the death aura? Was it from the old arsehole or from double fang? The old arsehole has more reasons to want Wolfwood absolutely dead, with him having been shot by Wolfy.
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What shitty name? Did the old bitch name Wolfwood? The whole name? Is oldie Wolfwood’s old master? He knows his full name and, well, Wolfwood said he put him full of lead. The only EoM we know of that Wolfwood did that to is the true Chapel. Does anyone else know that the wrinklebell is the true chapel?
Elendira’s word is enough to make them stop. No one wants to fight that woman. *swoons*
Also, Wolfwood recognises Double Fang as Livio. How does he do that behind that stupid halfmask and the fucking mop of hair?
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Ah, yes, my favourite. Old churchmen dehumanising children as weapons. Can I kick him? I shove him out of his wheelchair and run away with it. Then I gift it to someone in need. :3c Pwease?
But it says also much about Wolfwood. No wonder Wolfwood has trouble seeing himself as human, as being worthy of softness, when he was used as a weapon and completely dehumanised by his master.
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Elendira’s look. *chef’s kiss* Also, that’s what you do if you accidentally misgender someone, correct yourself and move on.
I love this. Elendira has blind faith in Knives’ capabilities. (Next chapter tells us more). Wolfwood calling her out on it gets rebuffed, but his faith in Vash is not without merit.
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That looks so comfy! (When it is 30°C outside, but you need a blanket to fall asleep.)
06. Conflict
I mean, yeah, this is a conflict.
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Uff, Knives is so very aware that kid Vash shared his opinion. He is not without reason to assume that current Vash may agree, too. But Knives also ignores that Vash has met so many good humans. And that he himself is kinda part of the reasons the humans are exploiting their sisters. 
Knives only sees his way of thinking, for the worse. He is unable to empathise with others’ experiences. He even uses the idea of Tesla to give his hate more credibility. Tesla would agree, wouldn’t she? We don’t know, but more importantly the twins do not know. Tesla had no agency when the humans tortured her and now her memory itself gets distorted and abused. She truly has no voice.
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Knives is literally breaking apart. He cannot really contain his sisters’ energy. His fear and anger is destroying himself.
Well, you just met your crazy brother after 2.5 years and he just told you he is the reason you are dying. Btw… you’re dying. Now fight!
Back to taking any agency from Vash again. Knives is the reason why Vash has started decaying. Without Knives, Vash would never have been able to activate his angel arm. He would never have lost control in July and then in Jeneora Rock. Knives’ hate bleeds his brother dry. If Knives just stopped now, Vash still had much time left. He wouldn’t have to use his power. He only uses his power because of Knives. But Knives is unable to even think of that. Everything is about humans, if humanity wasn’t Knives wouldn’t be forced to act and thus he is not responsible for his actions, humanity is. 
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Legato feels something that no one else does. And he shall join his master one little hop at a time!
I just love the sass Elendira gives him. I’d dislike him, too, as a coworker. Nothing about him is sane, but the boss likes him, so you gotta swallow your dislike.
I just love Elendira with Wolfwood. I love her sass and how Wolfwood is like totally apathetic towards it. 
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Not untrue, but look at that… Vash is leaving a blood lake because of you, Knives. Are you truly better? So many of Vash’ scars, mental and physical, are a direct result of Knives’ action. But how can you get that into his head? He twisted his mind into such loops, that his actions seem justified for him. Behind all that, he is scared for himself. The safety of his brother is just a sign for himself that he himself is safe. So he has to bring Vash onto his side and save him from himself. At all costs. Even if that would mean tearing him apart limb from limb, breaking his mind, maybe even absorbing him. Vash is not a person for Knives. Vash is a trophy-
Vash’ counter idea is… not the best… It is silly and naive. I understand that Knives is a bit frustrated at that. If you had a century’s time to find a solution and it is such a silly one… I’d be angry, too. Imagine doing a fucking murder game to show your brother the light and he says: We can just run away :3 
Interestingly, neither of them can imagine that they could settle down somewhere and live in peace. Even Vash thinks that they will need to run away and need to try again and again. (Not like he could settle down in fucking HOME?!?!)
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Vash breaks through Knives armour, but in the end it only hurts his sisters that have been absorbed. Which is telling, Knives hides behind the sisters that he protects. But in the end they are means to an end.
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Creepy Legato is creepy. He gets more and more unhinged. I have no words. No, seriously, this panel fucking scared me. It really does.
I want so much more of those two being disturbed by Legato. I love them.
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And in the end it comes to this. Knives being so unable to see Vash as his own individual with his own faults and reasons that he tries to take the rest of his agency and autonomy. Vash is just a trophy. Knives just needs to have him, he doesn’t need the person.
Vash uses suck…
Back to the former chapter... Elendira's reality is shown as blind faith. She was a big benchmark for us readers to see how things are going, but we realise now that she has been wrong. Things could still turn, Knives is not as powerful as he seems. He swallowed all his sisters and, still, if Legato hadn't intervened... We would get a happy ending.
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Is Knives that unable to read people that he doesn’t see how fucking done Legato is? I wouldn’t trust him to take care of a grape! Much less my so important brother whose continued existence was the reason I did a murder game!
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So, Wolfwood did not jump the ark? He stayed while it got off the ground? So, he is with Vash the whole time?
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quem-pel · 1 year
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I was feeling really unsettled after the finale of The Bad Batch and I wasn’t entirely sure why until I talked to my best friend about it.
Spoilers and unsolicited opinions below.
This is just me trying to sort things out in my head and thought I would share.
Obviously Techs death was pretty devastating, and I thought that it was the loss of his character that had me so in my feelings. They had fleshed him out to be very unique; he was the genius trope while still being confident and warm in his own way. You don’t ever see that portrayed in any sort of media and it was super endearing and refreshing. Then they canonized (I’m calling it canon at this point) him being neurodivergent/Autistic and that felt really good.
From what I can remember, he had never been made fun of by his brothers for info dumping, interrupting or his general demeanor. (The Regs made fun of all of them so I’m not counting that) And again, he wasn’t portrayed as being completely callus and uncaring. When he came across that way, Omega called him out like any little sibling might and he had explained his situation beautifully.
“I may process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean that I feel any less than you.” Same my tall neurodivergent buddy, same. And I think that is an incredibly powerful thing for a show to say, especially a SciFi universe/series that attracts this sort of following.
So yea, Techs death felt a little like a gut punch. I get sad over character deaths but this one got to me, and Tech wasn’t even my most favorite character.
I believe it was because of the timing and the tone.
It happened with 15 minutes left to the last episode, at that point we know things can’t get better. There would be no ‘fix it’ curve ball where he comes back to save the day, Crosshair wasn’t getting saved and then Omega was taken. There was so much despair and strife that the ‘I’m your sister’ reveal had very little emotional effect on me. At that point, I just didn’t care. I had been curious before, but it’s hard to feel curious about anything when everything felt so demoralizing and hopeless.
And that’s where my disconnect and unsettled feeling is coming from.
Starwars is about Hope, it always has been. It’s a huge reason why I latched onto the universe as my ‘comfort’ fandom. I’m emotionally sick of shows that everything is horrible all the time, if I want that I just open up Facebook or watch the news.
That isn’t to say that bad things don’t happen in Starwars, they absolutely do. But I don’t remember the last time any of the shows or films left me feeling utterly hopeless. Even in season one we have Omega telling Crosshair “You’re still their brother, you’re my brother too.”
This season we get; Tech falling to his death. Wrecker, Echo and Hunter sitting in a Dark Marauder ready to go feral after already trying everything and having nothing left. Crosshair out for the count after being tortured for who knows how long and Omega being kidnapped by the Empire.
Obviously the writing is really good, especially if so many people are having an emotional reaction to it. And I understand that its set right after order 66, so the empire is in full swing of being vicious evil bastards. But I think I am just really missing that punch of hope at the end, that light at the end of the tunnel that can pull us through until next season.
I am unsettled because it just feels really hopeless and that isn’t the theme of Starwars at all.
I want next season to turn that around, I want Tech to make a Starwars ‘not dead yet’ return, Crosshair and Omega to escape and the found family Trope to be intact. But that all seems like a very big ask at this point.
Makes me scared for the Mandalorian. At least we got to see Zeb Live action this week.
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houndfaker · 2 months
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Are mercury byte and pluto part of a story or are they more like standalone OCs? They're all super cool I'd love to hear more about their personalities if you've anything you'd like to share :]
iiiii. wrote so much in response to this forgive me.
they ARE part of a story that ive been on and off working on for a little while (development extremely slow and very 'this only makes progress when im REAAAALLY feeling it') to keep things loose given so much of it is still liable to change in development, its about robots fighting and exploring a world with autonomous machines living alongside organic life?
slipping most of this under a cut since im gonna be wordy
mercury is the protagonist, they were created by dr. lumen, a retired hero having sought to make something of a child that doubled as an aid/bodyguard for themselves in their old age. mercury quickly became much more than that as they became familiar with lumen's past as a hero and sought to take lumen's place as a local hero. mercury is relatively young and as a result is a little bit foolish and overconfident. they are extremely well-meaning and love to help people, but theyre also wrapped up in this desire to be adored as a hero and theyre going to have to contend with what parts of being a hero actually appeal to them, what they are capable of realistically and what compromises they'll have to make, and how to mature as a person. they're curious, excitable, and eager.
you didnt exactly Ask for these but i'll throw in funfacts for each character that i like to share
mercury curates a small collection of retro gaming tech; their favorite thing to collect is gameboys!
mercury also curates a physical library of their favorite music and they love dancing. They also often create tunes in their spare time. All of them use some sort of old game soundfont.
mercury has a small camera behind their head's lense! They use this for their photography hobby, and can open up/connect to a small port in the back of their head that lets them download the images/recordings onto a computer.
mercury does not verbally communicate (robots using verbal communication is common in this world) but is able to emit a variety of beeping sounds. (i actually have examples of what this sounds like as i had to create them for a bomb rush cyberfunk mod that puts mercury in the game!)
byte is mercury's adoptive sibling. he kinda has a 'born all alone in a wet cardboard box' thing going on; he's a half-baked computer program (programs are semi-corporeal, able to move between machinery and the real world) that was set for deletion but forgotten about so quickly that he winded up worming his way out of the computer he was made on! hes one of the very first individuals mercury saved after deciding they wanted to be a hero, getting rid of some feral virus entities that were intending to eat byte. merc had lumen smooth out byte's gnarly code and he wound up pretty much adopted afterward. he looks up to mercury but is also their little brother and is thus a little bastard about it. hes also loud, emotionally unstable, scares easy, and loyal to a fault.
surprisingly a huge fan of origami and does it to calm down from stressful situations. mercury keeps emergency folding papers for him in a compartment on their body.
he loves cartoons and animation and will ramble without a second thought if you watch something with him
pluto i have admittedly ironed out the most despite it being the most recent design of the trio, which means i have The Most context to give regarding it. it is the eventual deuteragonist, an old robot that was once a member of the story's main antagonistic faction, DEADSUN, a robot assassin group. pluto was initially built as the perfect champion of an unsanctioned robot fighting ring, but after being cheated out of its purpose, attacked and killed numerous participants, both organic and not, in a blind rage when no one would believe it. after this, it was scouted by a member of DEADSUN that had been observing it. not long into its time as a member of the group, though, it was deemed too reckless and untrainable, and it was forcibly deactivated and left in a basement of the group's headquarters at the time to be eventually used for scrap parts.
pluto was forgotten when DEADSUN transferred to different headquarters. the original base's site became a junkyard. after a planned story beat where mercury unleashes a burst of energy in that specific junkyard after losing the trail of an antagonist, the energy surges into the depths of the site and jumpstarts pluto back to life. it claws its way out of the abandoned facility and instantly tries to pick a fight with mercury because it wrongfully identifies them as a member of DEADSUN.
pluto is my favorite so far as you might be able to gather from the above. it is a machine with anger quite literally written into its soul. DEADSUN was intending to “tame” pluto in a sense. this backfires because pluto never regretted its previous actions. it never rejected its anger. it embraced it, owned what it was; a dangerous and powerful machine with no master. it still doesn’t regret what it is. it feels its reasons were justified. it expects people to be deterred from it when learning what it did and who it is, and therefore kept as few friends as possible. its blunt, rude, and doesn't take any shit. but at the same time, if it trusts you, its very personable and playful.
it likes skateboarding but due to its low capacity of patience it has snapped numerous boards and is always seen with a different one.
its feet are bendy; its able to jump really high and deliver kinda devastating kicks. its body is built to be pretty agile despite the bulk of its arms. it likes parkour and urban exploration.
its wholeheartedly accepted and even cared for by mercury and byte and lumen. without the strings attached for once. it hates mushy shit, but its grateful for them and shows that by being deeply protective.
and to cap this off i'll leave some misc doodles involving the trio. since ive poured my heart out regarding these three i might as well give a peek into their dynamic directly on the post yknow
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starlightshadowsworld · 5 months
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Little thing I love is when the person the heroes find someone who's hurt or kidnapped who isn't on their team.
But say the batista at the cafe attached to their headquarters.
Or a waiter at a restaurant they frequent.
Someone who seems "insignificant." But isn't, not in the slightest.
And everyone goes feral.
In tmnt 2012 Mr Murakami, the old man pizza guy is injured and the turtles are just pissed.
And I just love that.
That they would all get enraged and do anything to save and help them.
Simply because they are worth it. Because they care.
And it's never just one person who gets mad, it's the whole team.
Everyone banding together to save some random civilian because they are important to them.
Even the civilian might be suprised they came, because I'm just the cleaner or I'm just the guy who delivers the post.
Because the world loves to say these people don't matter, but they do.
So much.
Character A: They've taken Steve... From accounting.
Character B: No! It can't be!
Character C: Those bastards! If there's so much as one hair out of place on his head...
Everyone: more angry at the idea of Steve from accounting being hurt.
And than everyone bursts through the ceiling to save Steve from accounting.
Just looking out for the little guy.
Idk I just love those moments.
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