The mighty @masseffectholidaycheer bestow upon me a match with @kirikitsune for the festive reaping whos gift arrived today and made this the best monday ever. I am absolutely in love with this fabulously marvellously wonderfully magnificent self made leather cover and the notebook it protects, as well as the amazing bookmark. This is beyond fabulous and I lack the english vocabulary to adequately express how wonderful they are. That wonderful, indeed!
I mean, look at it in all it's glory? The colors are perfect, and the little punches remind me of shells and sea stars and we all know the ocean is my favourite place and beach combing my favourite hobby! Not to speak of the love for notebooks. This will definitely be a huge motivation to do more art this year.
And as if that wasn't amazing already, I got a whole BUNCH of self made pecan toffees that are beyond delicious and will get me through all this dark&cold season. Your granny has the best recipies, @kirikitsune!!
Thank you so so so so much for this absolutely wonderful gift!
And thank you @masseffectholidaycheer and minions for hosting this exchange once again and making this possible. <3
Hubert and Annette - I think their magic shenanigans would be fun :D
BIG FAN of magical mayhem Hubert and Annette!! I don't think I've ever devoted a whole story to it! Thank you for the opportunity <3
--
The forest outside Garreg Mach usually teemed with life. Deer, rabbits, and other game raced between trees. Birds plucked bugs from the ground. Smaller animals like chipmunks danced from bush to bush in an effort to keep hidden.
Currently, all creatures were fleeing the immediate area in an attempt to escape the ridiculous amounts of magic being fired off.
Annette watched as Hubert extended both hands and shot a blur of black smoke into the sky. It zipped like lightning in a small area before dissipating, leaving only a sizzling sound behind. She frowned and consulted the spell book she had found in the library that morning.
"It still doesn't look right," she said, flipping between pages. "Ah-ha! Try again, but with more emphasis on the last syllable!"
Without questioning her, Hubert did as she said. He went through the whole incantation-- this time with the minor change-- and flung out his hands again. The spell shot out twice as fast, the smoke crackling with lightning this time instead of simply mimicking it. Annette cheered and Hubert grinned as the magic spun away into the air.
Annette practically bounced up to Hubert. "That was a great one! Okay, your turn to pick a spell," she said, pressing the book into Hubert's hands.
Hubert snapped the book shut. "Let us take a break first. Perhaps have some water."
Now that he mentioned it, Annette's mouth was rather dry. Her palms stung slightly with all the magic she had used already. But the book was full of so many good spells... "Alright then," she agreed in a sigh.
Hubert lead them to the edge of their clearing where some sizable boulders provided a nice enough place to sit. He pulled out a water skin and took careful sips, opening the book in his lap as he did so. Annette sat and began rotating her wrists to ease the soreness.
The silence was comfortable, practiced. It had been common in school for the pair to work on spells together-- combing schools of magic, debating Kingdom and Empire styles, even a brief dabble in remedy experiments. They had ended up in the infirmary a few times, each stay followed by a lecture from Edelgard.
Yet they kept at it. Annette wanted to thoroughly explore what magic could do, and Hubert was just macabre enough to recklessly push past limits with her. In the beginhing he had said it was all in an effort to grow strong and help Lady Edelgard however possible-- but he had stopped using that excuse long ago.
The war had taken them to different parts of Foldan, and even now that they were back at Garreg Mach with the Professor it had taken months to have this time together.
Annette looked over at Hubert. He seemed to have picked out a spell already, judging from his expression as he read his current page. "I didn't think you would actually come out here with me," she said with a small smile.
Hubert didn't lift his head. "Why not? These spells are just as interesting as you said. Thunder and dark magic do not usually mix this way."
"It's been so busy since we defeated the Alliance. And you're busier than the rest of us combined! I wouldn't be surprised if you slept in your office."
"I have, some nights."
Annette crossed her arms over her knees. "Exactly! I thought you... wouldn't have time for me anymore."
Hubert set his water down. "Truth be told, I'm glad you came by this morning to ask me to experiment again. I have missed it."
"Y-You have?"
"I also think I needed a break," Hubert went on, getting to his feet. "It feels like we are so close to ending this war at long last. I want to work as hard as I can to make it happen. But I believe spending so much time cooped up was only to my detriment." He held up the book with a smirk. "This is exactly the break I needed."
Annette beamed at him. Before she could think better of it, she jumped up and grabbed him in a hug. "I missed you too!" She pulled away quickly-- ignoring the stunned look on his face-- to take a few big gulps of her own water. Their break was over. It was time to have more fun.
"What spell should I do next?" Annette raced back to the middle of the clearing. She aimed a grin over her shoulder at Hubert, who still hadn't moved. "I want a big one this time! A flash and then a big boom!"
The song seemed to jog him back into the moment. With a chuckle, Hubert opened the spell book and made his way over, that familiar spark of curiosity in his eyes.
First, thank you for sharing Sam and crew. (Especially Kara and her bots and her cross stitch.)
Second, Mezzo is fantastic and everything I ever wanted from an ME2 fic. Every time I move from ME1 to ME2 the mechanical changes throw me off and you captured that perfectly. Love watching Sam react like an angry cat to everything being Off. Where's his rifle? No that's wrong. (ME2 give me my damn assault rifle! I don't WANT to use a shotgun!) Biotic abilities? Finally got used to the ones in ME1 and now they're different?? Also, Horizon. Yeah you did fix it by making it worse. Ow.
Third, I recently finished my mShenko playthrough and yeah I'm sitting in a puddle of feelings about it. Your playlists are fantastic by the way. Here's my musical contribution: VNV Nation's Electric Sun. The whole thing is good but Before the Rain and At Horizon's End are on my Shep and Kaidan list. Run, Invictus and Sunflare fit Shep. (Sunflare really does also make me think of Sam.)
You made Real Life Romance Option's day with VNV Nation recs; they are one of his favorite bands!!!! I enjoy them too, so I am excited to sit down with this album some more!
Ah, ME2. I will never, ever forget my experience playing it for the first time. ME1 was my first shooter and even my first game with a player-controlled camera. It was such a battle to learn how to play it, then ME2 came around and changed everything. It felt like I was starting from scratch, and it was so discouraging. So I know exactly what you mean, and I did channel a lot of that feeling into Sam. All the rules changed while he was gone, which made him feel even more like a man out of sync.
I am very glad people are largely bought into my belief that to fix Horizon you have to make it worse. The way it's written in the game is such a mess, but not in the way it needed to be a mess. So much about Shepard not reaching out, not contacting old friends, that bizarre greeting on Horizon just feels so forced - plot service rather than character service. But the idea of it is so compelling - why didn't Shepard reach out to the Virmire survivor? Anderson? Why was Horizon such a clusterfuck? How can I make those things feel earned?
It was very rewarding to drill down and really think about what Lazarus looks like from the eyes of anyone outside of Shepard and the Normandy. We're so biased by Shepard's perspective that Lazarus seems like a foregone conclusion. Of course he was dead for two years and brought back to life. We know that to be true. But from the perspective of anyone else - who are in the dark about any and all of it - it's a scenario that wouldn't even enter your thinking.
ANYWAY, this is more than you wanted to hear, so thank you for indulging me. And thank you so much for caring about Opus. It's still surreal that anyone wants to listen to me yap about it!
Dear @kirikitsune — thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!! This is an incredible gift and I ADORE IT.
First, let’s pretend there weren’t three bags of caramels two days ago. Oops. They are so addictive and delicious and I am definitely consuming them at a 100% reasonable pace. 👀
Second, I just realized I took pictures without your lovely card. Thank you for making this notebook with a removable cover. I’m going to use it ALL THE TIME because of that! (Clearly, you understand all too well the dilemma of the too-nice-to-use notebook!)
Third, the bookmarks are so amazing! And the journal!! Aaaahh!! I absolutely love all the perfect little details, the leather is incredible, and you’ve chosen one of my very favorite quotes. (Thank you, too, for the wonderful comments you left on my fic! Bonus gift!!) Maybe if I write in the magical notebook, I will finally finish my languishing works in progress???
Thank you again. I feel totally spoiled and so, so, so grateful!! ❤️❤️
2.What is the thing they feel the most guilty about? Not finding a way to save Nithroel or Aelynthi in canon.
4. Describe their worst nightmare. They’ve lived it. Aelynthi being executed in front of them. They’ll never forget that sight.
5.List 3 fears; one “surface level” fear, one “repressed” fear, and one “deep dark” fear. Surface level - fear of discovery (in modern AUs, of them being an abom, in ancient aus, of their rebellion) repressed - fear of trusting or loving others, deep dark - fear of helplessness in the face of their loved one’s suffering.
16.Is there anyone who makes them feel inferior? The can be pretty self deprecating, but no, not a single person that makes them feel inferior.
44.What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t? Trust people.
Also @powredpaintcoll asked for 2 for Cirimeni, so I’m going to add that here as well.
Cirimeni
2. What is the thing they feel the most guilty about? In canon, not saving her brother Cato.
for the kiss prompts, #15 for sharkbait or Thenvunin/Aelynthi (which might be my favorite of the crackships here) please? :)
Let’s break out the good ole crackship! Thenvunin/Aelynthi it is! Modern AU style.
There are good days, and there are bad days.
This is a fact of life, Thenvunin knows, though it takes on a different meaning when injuries and illness and things like chronic pain are on the table. Because most people, he thinks, with bodies that work as they should, without injuries to recover from or conditions to manage and live around, tend to think of bad days as things done to them. Getting fired would make for a bad day. Getting dumped. A car breaking down, a basement flooding, a pet passing on. Those are definitely bad days, of the sort that everyone has.
But a ‘bad day’ can also mean something like waking up with the telling signs that the pain is only going to worsen, from here on out. Or opening your eyes and feeling only a sinking, deep despair, or frustration, or hopelessness. Hating the face in the mirror. Trying to get through morning routines and messing up every single one of them, or just feeling so awful that even those efforts can’t be managed.
Thenvunin knows this. When he was smaller, his mother would sometimes ask him “is this a bad day?”, and if he said ‘yes’, often she’d let him stay home. Or she’d find something to distract him, or even take him to the doctor, depending on what troubles he managed to articulate.
Aelynthi’s hands are still recovering from the accident. They’re still looking over their options for what to do to try and get him as much dexterity back as possible, and Thenvunin is mostly still just grateful that Aelynthi didn’t die. He had been so afraid, when he’d rushed to the hospital. Sometimes his heart still feels liable to leap into his throat at any moment. But, his boyfriend is whole and alive, and even though his art is still an issue, he can usually manage simple things. Holding a hair brush, or opening a door. Chopping this is difficult for him, but Thenvunin doesn’t mind cooking, and they like ordering out a lot, too.
This morning, Aelynthi dropped his hairbrush in the toilet, and dropped his shampoo in the shower, and dropped the spoon for his cereal. He opted to try and get his pills out of the medicine cabinet himself and spilled several of them struggling with the jar, and Thenvunin watches his expression turn to stone as he spills some of his coffee onto the table. It’s not even very much.
But he knows that’s not the point.
“Is today a bad day?” he asks.
“How should I know?” Aelynthi snaps back. “It hasn’t even started yet. I still have that fucking appointment to get through and lunch with our parents and then another meeting with that useless ‘wellness consultant’ who just sits there and hums at me like I’m sort of petulant three-year-old until the meeting’s over, I need to update my news blog and actually check on current events sometime this century, but that’s provided I can, in fact, manage to type something or keep the mouse from flying out of my hand and making a break for Seheron.”
Thenvunin feels a moment of hurt at his tone, but he manages to shrug it off after a second. It’s not hard, this time. He knows where Aelynthi is coming from even better than he usually does.
“Well, then, maybe we should cancel all of that,” he suggests. “We can reschedule your appointment, and lunch, and the consultant. Perhaps we could read the news together?”
Aelynthi glares at his coffee mug.
“You don’t need to fuss,” he says, and lets out a long breath. “I’m fine. Just…”
He shrugs.
Thenvunin nods.
“It’s a bad day,” he says. “I used to get those, too. Don’t you remember? Remember that birthday party I had, and my mother cancelled it halfway through because I couldn’t stop crying?”
“You were a kid,” Aelynthi points out, staring at his hands, now. “That’s different. I don’t need you hovering all the time, or trying to baby me through this. I need it fixed.”
His voice is thick with frustration. Thenvunin can almost feel it himself. That gnawing sense of helplessness, and raw nerves, and pain. Aelynthi’s trying to hide it, but after dropping so many things and swearing so much this morning, with that tightness lingering around his eyes, Thenvunin can tell. He keeps over-doing it. Because he wants this ‘injured’ phase of his life to be over with, except it’s not just something he can barrel right through.
“It can be fixed if we just take our time,” he offers.
It’s not what Aelynthi wants to hear, and maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. He closes a fist, or tries to, and doesn’t quite manage, before he stands up from the table.
“I am the one with the injured hands. You don’t need to take your time for anything. You can just go to work. Like normal,” he snaps. “So back off and do that.”
Aelynthi stands up from the table and stalks off, and Thenvunin sits a moment longer, feeling at a loss and wondering what approach he should have taken. Only, he supposes, that’s the thing about bad days. Sometimes there isn’t a good approach.
It takes about five minutes for his boyfriend to come back into their kitchen.
“…I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he offers.
Thenvunin nods in understanding, and gets up. He might be handling things all wrong, he supposes. But he remembers the things that worked for him on days like this. Even when they were teenagers, after they started dating, and Thenvunin still had his moments. More mental than physical. But Aelynthi would always do his best to help.
He moves over towards his boyfriend, and when Aelynthi doesn’t try to shrug him off, he cups his face, and presses a kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” he promises. Aelynthi lets out a long breath, and rests his hands on Thenvunin’s shoulders. His lips are a little ragged; he’s been chewing on them again, but Thenvunin put on lip balm this morning, so maybe some more thorough kissing will have a transferring effect?
He decides to test it. Leaning in again, and wrapping his arms around Aelynthi’s waist, as he presses a firmer kiss to him. After a little while, he dips his tongue between his lips, and draws him closer to his chest. The taste of coffee lingers in his mouth. Aelynthi presses his palms flat against him, as if Thenvunin’s warmth feels good against his hands.
When he pulls back again, Thenvunin rests his forehead against him.
“Ma vhenan,” he says.
Aelynthi closes his eyes, and sags.
“Sap,” he accuses.
“Grouch,” Thenvunin counters, with a kiss to his temple, instead.
“…Cancel everything,” Aelynthi eventually decides. “But not because of - because we’re going to spend the day having a lot of sex. That’s why. What do you call it? Being licentious?”
Thenvunin huffs, but inwardly lets out his own sigh of relief.
“Don’t be absurd. We are an official and respectable couple, when we do such things it is called romance,” he insists, pressing another kiss to his temple.
“I’m terrible at romance,” Aelynthi insists.
“Oh yes, the worst,” Thenvunin deadpans. “Obviously, that is why we need to spend a day practising.”
His boyfriend snorts, and it’s the first sound he’s made all morning that hasn’t either been angry or tired or miserable in some way. Some of the tightness around his eyes eases, just a little. Thenvunin makes a mental note to be careful applying the elfroot salve to his hands in a few hours, and supposes he should probably be a little more proactive than usual for their bedroom activities. Which is something he has gotten better at, at least. Ordinarily Aelynthi likes to be in charge, but every so often, it is nice to be taken care of, too.
Thenvunin keeps that in mind, as he shifts his grip, and takes advantage of the moment and his current resolve to lift Aelynthi up. The better to carry him off, before he changes his mind.
