never thought i'd die fighting side by side with an elf

[asdfasdfafkj]

Cooperation Meme


Sometimes, you just want an excuse to throw together two characters who would never willingly hang out, much less trade a polite word with one another. This meme is designed for the recalcitrant assholes, the unsociable jerks, and anyone who wants a thread of two characters being forced to work together toward a goal.

The theme is cooperation. For a period of time, your two characters are stuck together, and whether they love it or hate it, their partner is there to stay for at least awhile.

Prompts:

1. Trapped: The elevator broke down, you got locked in a room, or you're forced to hide in the broom closet! Whether you're trapped willingly or not, you'll have to put your heads together to get out safely, or just keep each other company.
2. Stuck: There's the mundane options, like the finger-traps or the handcuffs, and the more supernatural ones, like a hand-holding spell or a… sticky goo attack? Somehow, you're physically stuck together now.
3. Lost: You don't know where you are, and your partner is somehow the only one you can rely on to help you get back to civilization. Or maybe they're the only one who can direct you to an exclusive club in a strange city.
4. Common enemy: The enemy of the enemy is your friend! You may already get along, but even if you don't, there's a bigger asshole for you to join forces against.
5. Crisis: Caught in the middle of a natural disaster or a crime in action, maybe even a zombie apocalypse, you've got better chances throwing your lot in with another person.
6. Life-or-death: In the killing games, the do-or-dies, the demand is that you cooperate or get snuffed out by the opponents or your sadistic audience. If you don't work together, you'll be the first to go.
7. Mission: Whether it's to decide the fate of the world or your organization, or just an objective to raise money for charity, you are on the case—with a partner, of course.
8. Chores: Divide and conquer to get things done around the house.
9. Obligation: You're assigned to a school or work project, or you're the designated planning committee for an event. Either way, you're gonna have to work together to get it done.
10. Punishment: You've pissed someone off and you've been transformed into a llama. Your boss put you on overtime, or a difficult mission, or on training the new hire. Earn your way back to normalcy with an ally.
11. Last resort: This is the only option left—the last safe haven, the last person with needed expertise, the only person to fill in your team or club. Please, please help.
12. For fun: Time for an escape room, an obstacle course, a couple's challenge, or co-op mode! Why not test your cooperation and problem-solving skills just for the hell of it?
13. Wildcard: There are dozens more scenarios you can come up with, just throw in a wildcard if nothing suits your fancy! It might be helpful to mention what scenarios are favored/likely in your TL!

Comments

[sleepfan]

[Oooh CF AU where Byleth doesn't wake up (or something happens to them) and everybody just gets wrecked? It's pretty feasible for them both to get cut off from others, since Claude is a ranged archer unit and, depending on how dire things are, Linhardt needs to find an out of the way spot to sit and heal so he won't die.

Linhardt healing Claude and then Claude telling Lin they have to run would be hilarious. Linhardt is not very concerned; he's low on everybody's priority list in his mind. Well, minus Caspar. And there's his reason for cooperating.

He's selfish. Don't hurt his friends. Kingdom hurts Caspar, that door closes. (It would close in VW but we all know Lin doesn't get to feel anything after that. :D)]

[cunningschemer]

[ Yes, exactly this! If you want, we can say that both Claude and Linhardt have others still alive back at Garreg Mach and Derdriu (maybe only half or so of their respective forces were at this particular battle), so they still have plenty of motivation to escape Dimitri's wrath.

And if Edelgard is back at the monastery, this could be the catalyst for an alliance between Adrestia and Leicester.

Of course, they'll have to rely on each other for some time until they manage to reach any sort of genuine safety. Does that work? ]

[sleepfan]

[Oh yeah, that'd be super good. It also gives Claude a reason to stick by Linhardt, since Lin's opinion and/or suggestion of the alliance would hold some weight. Claude's smart enough to have intel on them all, and Edelgard + Hubert hound Linhardt so much his opinion is clearly valuable even if they're...intense about it. So good to get him on your side and all.

Linhardt: Oh joy. Politics.]

[cunningschemer]

[Claude bit down hard on his glove and forced himself take another step forward despite the agony of the two arrowheads buried deep into his flesh. They weren't the only injuries he suffered during the battle, but they were the most serious and definitely the most likely to kill him if he didn't get them taken care of soon. In comparison, he could more or less ignore the painful bruises from his fall off his wyvern, and even what he assumed to be a broken wrist and a sprained ankle.

He must have been a sight to behold. The leader of the Alliance, now little more than another wounded soldier, filthy with blood and dirt. If Hilda was here, she would be beyond furious at him for pushing forward when she had urged him to stay behind. How had he managed to make such a grave miscalculation? His intelligence had been so flawed, he had to wonder who betrayed him and if they were still alive.

Not that it mattered right now. At the moment, all Claude could focus on was staying alive, alert, and finding a way to escape the carnage around him without Dimitri's forced finding him when they inevitably swept the field for survivors.

Faerghus had been much stronger than he was led to believe. He had intended for his forces to linger at the edges of the battlefield, waiting to see what happened when the Kingdom and Empire clashed. Instead, they'd been forced into action by a surprise attack from the rear, and then devastated by a well-formed pincer. Claude was certain that he was only alive thanks to his position some distance from the main column. A position that he was now certain he'd been lured to as a strategy to cause chaos and confusion among his soldiers.

The next step jostled one of the arrows and he hissed as shocks of pain shot throughout his body. He had never endured anything this bad before. Claude was aware he was starting to slow down, and he wouldn't be able to pull himself together again if he stopped.

So... onward. If he died, he wanted to die with the knowledge that he didn't give up willingly.

He didn't stop again until he was forced to hide in a thicket of trees to avoid a pair of Kingdom knights riding past. It only took a second to notice he wasn't the only one taking advantage of this particular hiding place.

Claude didn't know if he should be relieved or concerned to have come across an Adrestian noble. Under different circumstances, he wouldn't stick around. But now, considering his injuries and said noble's skill set, he didn't think he had much of a choice but to take his chances asking for help.]

Linhardt? [He asked, but he already knew the answer. He looked a bit different from their time at the academy, with longer hair and a more mature face, but he was similar enough that there could be no mistake.]

Think we could help each other out?

[sleepfan]

[Linhardt's choice to push Hubert out of Dimitri's way had been an unconscious one, a snap calculation in the heat of battle: With the angle of the lance and the force behind Dimitri's blow, Hubert would never be able to survive it, and Edelgard moves so slowly in that damn armor of hers. (The only saving grace is that she cannot rush into things like Caspar, although Linhardt sometimes wonders if things might calm down if Edelgard died.)

Hubert wouldn't have lived. Linhardt could.

Barely.

He'd had a vague memory of shouting, being carried, and set down somewhere, and a worried voice speaking in words that were too garbled for Linhardt to understand as he'd drifted in and out of consciousness and the edges of his vision had turned interesting colors.

Then he'd blacked out.

Still, by now he'd learned to wake whenever someone was nearby, and Linhardt's body jerks him awake when it hears the footsteps on the branches leading up to the thicket where Linhardt lies. The healer pushes himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the second his vision goes white, so he can at least aim what magical energy he has left, pulling the heat out of the air around him in preparation.]

One moment.

[Linhardt's voice is raspy, and his eyes are unfocused while he looks for the voice that's said his name. One of his medics? Did they need him? He never should have brought them here: most of them couldn't even call on offensive magic, unlike Linhardt. He'd trained them and brought them to a massacre. Linhardt feels ill, a nausea not caused by his wounds.

Wait. Is that... why? Why Claude? That requires thinking and his head is too fuzzy. Imperial forces would be safe, Faerghan ones would not. Alliance...

Why are they even fighting the Alliance? It's moronic. A war on two fronts? The logistics alone are a nightmare.]

Yes, I will help you.

[Linhardt's eyes finally focus on Claude. Even if Claude does kill him afterwards, it's better for Fodlan if the Alliance has its leader. Yes. That is the correct decision.]

You will need to come closer, however, I can't move my legs.

[Having run out of magic, Linhardt had started casting from his own life force, which had detrimental effects. Still, less detrimental than having a lance shoved through your body by the King of Faerghus: Linhardt's clothing is absolutely saturated in his blood, and his midsection has an almost- hole through it, parts of raw, red, and weeping flesh still peeking through where Linhardt's Crest had worked overtime to keep its bearer alive.]

[cunningschemer]

[He half-expects Linhardt to set him on fire, or throw whatever other spell he might have his way, and sighs with relief when he agrees to help him instead. The mage also looks like he's barely holding on. Judging by the amount of blood staining his clothing, that's probably not far from the truth.

Can't move his legs. That means Claude will have to settle down beside him. Resting will kill him if he isn't healed, so it's not a completely straightforward decision.

But what else can he do? He's unlikely to find another healer out here. This is a risk he has to take.]

Thank you.

[His words are raspy and strained, his breathing labored. He'll have to wait before he can say anything else. It takes all of Claude's focus to lower himself into a sitting position on the ground next to Linhardt and not pass out immediately after. Soon enough he's back to biting down on his glove, his body shaking from a mixture of pain and blood loss.

Just a bit longer. He has to hold onto hope.

And if Linhardt does manage to heal him, even if just enough to keep him alive, he'll find a way to repay him. Whatever he needs. Whether that means getting him out of here, or taking care of someone else he will leave behind if he dies.]

[sleepfan]

[Relief. Relief is good, yes? It means that Claude probably isn't immediately hostile. The pain in Claude's own voice parts the clouds from Linhardt's mind, and he looks at the Alliance leader with clear eyes for the first time, his years of healing training kicking in.

Injured enough that it's impacting his overall state, judging by the lack of wounds near the throat or vocal cord area. Linhardt's eyes flicker over Claude's body, cataloguing and prioritizing all of the wounds while he reaches out with his magical senses to feel for internal injuries. Doing so is harder than it's ever been before, like looking at a room through a stained glass window.

Before this, running out of healing magic had only been theoretical, but there had been so many injured... was he supposed to hold back? Why? Just in case he might need something? What sort of healer prioritizes themselves over their comrades?]

I wouldn't let you die for being annoying and checking out library books I wanted. I'm not Hubert.

[Edelgard and Dimitri may have taken much from him, but nobody will take Linhardt's gallows humor.

First, the arrowheads that are still embedded in Claude. Of course they are. Those require warp magic, and his senses don't extend more than a foot in any direction. Linhardt sighs and slowly draws his right arm into the air, fingers moving in a series of specific patterns until the arrows, splinters, and some of the larger debris are warped away. Given his lack of control at the moment, they shoot off 8 feet in the air to the northwest. Linhardt does not care.

He takes a shaky breath and wiggles his fingers. Fingers are still fine. He can keep going.

Next: The blood loss and the wounds. Closing up the wounds is simple: That Linhardt could probably do while he sleeps, but even something so simple takes enough energy that Linhardt feels disturbingly dizzy, like when Caspar would pick him up and spin him around as a child.

Blood. Claude needs blood. Where... where was it...?

Linhardt's head swims; one of the first things he'd done when Edelgard declared war on the Church was break their medical taboos. He knows this. He knows where blood comes from. It comes from bones, which is absurd. Healers don't normally handle blood loss; they heal, they can't replace.

Unless they were Linhardt von Hevring, who is the only one nit-picky enough to draw a connection between the creation of skin tissue to heal wounds and the creation of other tissue. Skin has to be grown out from its edges; location matters. So it must be with blood. So if he focuses on the right places...

And means that he has to heal the inside of Claude's bones, or else it wouldn't work...

Largest to smallest. That's the order.

His magic flares to life again, the healing energy flowing from Linhardt's hand on Claude's arm to the innermost parts of his body, Linhardt's brow glistening with sweat and effort as he directs it with control, causing a surge of warmth and rest first though Claude's legs, then through his arms and ribcage.]

There. Now... you won't... die.

[Linhardt, on the other hand, pitches forward, his left arm having also gone limp.]