#but that was during her time at the Hall where she still ended up overseeing death and massacre

[heraldofcrow]

I love how Maria’s name can mean both “of the sea” and “star of the sea” because she is literally hiding a secret of the sea behind an astral clocktower, where she was in close communion with the stars.

It’s not just her name that matters here, but the symbolism too. Her time at the Fishing Hamlet as a hunter and the Research Hall as the Clocktower guardian left behind similar trails of death.

In the Nightmare, she tried to hide the sea of her sins underneath the sky, without realizing how one merely reflected the other.

#is this too esoteric #i am once again talking about the themes #maria trying to run from the sea that would swallow her by hiding in a starward tower #high above it all #but that was during her time at the Hall where she still ended up overseeing death and massacre #she couldn’t escape #sea and sky #lady maria #bloodborne #CrowNotes

[blurban-form]

Stripe and Trixie’s House (3/3)

This covers the parts of the house we see in S3E24 “Faceytalk”

The action in Stripe and Trixie’s home starts on the second floor, at the rear of the house. Stripe’s family is all in a sitting room.

The room has two couches, a dark one and a light off-white one, and the room has an overhead ceiling fan. There are sliding glass doors (open) out to a second-floor balcony overlooking the pool. This balcony must have the outdoor dining table from “Christmas Swim” underneath it.

Here’s a shot showing some of this room with just Socks in the field of view. (This episode is all about video-conferencing and everything is in close-ups, shot-wise.)

Socks stays in this room with the tablet throughout “Faceytalk”.

Trixie leaves the room to take care of something, and Stripe is left sort of off-handedly overseeing his kids from the dark-coloured couch while they use the Faceytalk video-conference app with Bluey and Bingo.

(This probably is not the same big room where everyone opened presents in “Christmas Swim”, based on the art on the wall and the windows.)

Muffin kind of hogs the on-screen drawing feature on Faceytalk — she is stopped from using the tablet by Stripe, leaving Socks to play with the tablet, but shortly thereafter Muffin reappears at the bottom of the stairs to the upper floor having commandeered Stripe’s smartphone.

She is far enough away from where Stripe and Socks are that she can run away with the cell phone. Stripe gives chase and soon catches up.

Muffin goes up a stairway straight into a very long corridor with artwork and doors with lever handles on both sides of the hall. The ceiling has square pot lights.

There are multiple cross-hallways. It is very long, like in a cruise ship or hotel hallway. I’m assuming most of the rooms that we don’t enter on this floor are bedrooms, home offices, etc.

While chasing Muffin, Spike trips over Muffin’s Cat Squad bike.

Muffin decides to hide in her bedroom. Muffin’s bed has a Cat Squad comforter/bedspread and glow sticker stars adorn the walls. Bluey’s ukulele is under Muffin’s bed. Muffin stays under here for a while.

During this time Spike returns to where Socks is, sees via Faceytalk that Muffin is under some furniture & resumes trying to track her down.

Muffin leaves her room and runs further down the hall. We can see what she sees: at the far end of the hall there’s a family portrait.

Muffin goes into what looks like another sitting room, with a couch (edit) bed! and a cylindrical light on the ceiling… and Stripe’s in this room! He was looking for her in here.

Although we can also see the glass balcony railing that is like the one in the starting room, this might be a distinct room from the starting room.

Muffin gets away and runs down the hall (again), screaming.

Muffin runs into a room that turns out to be a bathroom, and it turns out Trixie is also in here, using the toilet!

Stripe enters. Trixie and Stripe then start to argue about how to handle Muffin.

Dad (Bandit), watching all this with Bluey and Bingo, has his kids mute the audio. We see that Muffin’s parents resolve their disagreement, make up, and work together to try and corral Muffin. Muffin keeps being Muffin and gets away.

Muffin starts cycling wallpapers/backgrounds in Faceytalk so we can’t see her route as she’s moving but she ends up back in the room with Socks.

Trixie almost catches Muffin, but Muffin gets away but then trips at the threshold to the deck and the phone goes flying — it goes up into the air and falls into the pool.

We get some nice footage of the camera tumbling in the air and capturing footage of the house from above, moments before it submerges in the pool and then shuts down.

Note the garage must be like a carport in that we can see the nose of it sticking out.

Phew, that’s a lot to have covered and there’s still a lot of this house we haven’t seen. A couple of comments.

That is a long hallway!

From the light fixtures and the door handles and the look of the kitchen, I get the sense that either Stripe or Trixie work in construction, e.g. as a project manager or contractor. I’m not saying they have been stealing materials from projects but the upstairs hallway has a very office-hallway feel to it.

The changes to the house and pool area from episode to episode would also point in this direction, that they are able to get big projects accomplished.

This doesn’t seem like as kid-friendly a house as Bluey’s.

#Bluey - other people’s houses #That was a lot of writing about a secondary location! #Bluey

[lucreziasredwyne]

who: @wcrdsarewind​ (qorban piper)  where: riverrun, the riverlands; during the betrothal of king casimir tully and lady lucrezia redwyne 

The letter that had arrived upon her desk from the seneschal stationed within the family keep within the vineyards of Vinestown had been a letter she had stared at for some time, within the chambers and the apartments that had been granted to her within the castle of Riverrun. Her eyes reread each sentence as they reported on the activities and growing tensions within Ryamsport regarding those who worked the ports and the village and the merchants of the Summer Isles that only helped markets and trade flourish. The Arbor was a natural stop on their journey through the Sunset Sea, and for years, relations between the two groups had been civil.

That was until the last year upon the ascension of the new King, and it suddenly felt as though new limits were being tested; seeing just how far they were willing to push. It started with undercutting the merchants and the villagers of the Arbor, outbuying source and resources that left the natives having to wait until the next shipment was sent in for the sake of bulking; however, the pressing matter had always been that of taxes. Merchants of the Summer Isles had to pay a price in order to profit from the Arbor, a tax that changed depending on what was declared upon leaving - and recently, there had been increasing evidence of these taxes being undercut. Tested.

She knew why this was happening on the Arbor, and not Oldtown - she knew why it was her name that was being pushed and undermined. It was a matter that could not be allowed to further develop without involvement, without the presence of House Redwyne as the overlords of the Arbor being made known for the sake of upholding and maintaining law and justice - and still, there was no denying the slight utter exhaustion she felt. Exhaustion she ignored and pushed to the very back of her mind, knowing she would need to reach out to Garland to oversee the activities within Oldtown and attempt to identify those who had been not declaring the full extent of what had been used and made upon the Arbor.

That, and her mind trailed to the words of Casimir a few nights ago upon speaking to her through his Council - the most notable men and women in the realm. A certain name seemed to slowly rise to the very front of her mind, as well as the link they seemed to provide across the Sunset Sea - it seemed as though a Summer Islander of Westeros and the Lady of the Arbor ad found themselves beneath the same roof. Only, she had been careful, taking a day or two to simply quietly observe the man in his social settings; hearing of him from the ladies that were attending upon her. 

There was a way the world worked, that entailed an exchange of sorts always taking place; she knew little of what the man would want in exchange for being willing to help in any way he could.

Only, she had enough faith in her position in this life to know that the Lady of the Arbor was a worthy enough connection to have within a network. She understand just how these circles went, and if not that, then the Queen of the land of Rivers should surely be enough. Any man would wish to climb the ranks of society, and to continue climbing; it was only human nature to wish to be close to the sky. Looking down upon him from the upper circle of Riverrun's Great Hall, she wondered how far he would be willing to go. 

As time and feasting passed, the woman stood and bowed her head as the man approached her; the meeting formal, as though to introduce himself properly for the first time.

"I assume my ladies did end up relaying the message to you just fine." The woman asked, referencing to her request for a formal audience; she ensured it were in public, remaining too skewered by recent events to wish to bring even more questions surrounding her. There were no questions, not in reality, and yet she could not help but feel as though there was - and so many. "You have my gratitude for taking the time from your day and meeting with me, at my own rather rushed request." The woman indicated towards the empty chair beside her at the table, hearing the distant sounds of chatting. "I shall not withhold or waste any more of your time."

#c: qorban #qorban 001 #here we gooo

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice: Part 1.5 (Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader)

synopsis: you meet your captors, but why are you really here?

wc: 1.8k

tw: none

masterlist

Giggling.

Giggling?

Do people giggle in heaven?

When you finally come to, all you can hear are muffled whispers and excited chatter around you.

“Mom? Dad?” You slowly open your eyes and take in the blurry shapes surrounding you, blinking multiple times so that they would take form.

“No mom or dad here,” a soft voice whispers, and cold fingers touch your forehead.

“No,” another voice echoes and finally, you can see who is circled around you. A gaggle of women surrounds you, each one having an unusual skin color - rose pink, cerulean, blood red, hunter green, and mauve - and sporting a set of unfamiliar-looking ears that came to a small pinched point at the tops.

“We’re glad you’re awake!” A woman with short black hair and green skin exclaims, clasping her hands to her clothed chest. “Everyone is shocked when they come here at first, but we’ve never had someone pass out,” she giggles and the other women do as well.

“You made quite a spectacle,” another woman sighs, shaking her rose-pink head. “We had to get the men to help us get you up here.”

Here? You look around the room you’re in, fully noticing your surroundings. You’re still in the clothes from the ceremony, and the pendant hangs neatly around your neck still, untouched by the women. But the room… it’s immaculate.

Every piece of furniture is either gold or white, and to your left, a set of open-air windows are covered by gauzy curtains that blow in the invisible wind. You’re laying in a four-poster bed, covered in white sheets and white fur that looks expensive. And when you run your hands over it, it feels expensive.

“Wait…” you exhale, looking around at the room again. “Am I in the Dragon God’s--”

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re asking,” The blood-red-skinned woman answers, fingering her long braid. “But I’ll let His Holiness explain.”

“His Holiness?” you mutter, right as a sharp ripple runs through the curtains. All of the women turn to the archways and in one motion begin to scramble there.

“Move, Ariadne!”

“Serena, scoot over!”

“Danai, I can’t see!”

You cautiously slide out of the bed and pad over to where the women have thrown open the curtains and are leaning over the banister to look left and right.

“Do you see them?” Someone asks, and one of them replies,

“Up there!” Your eyes follow to the point in the sky where the mauve hand is pointing, and you can see two figures dancing about in the sky, flashes of gold and white passing between them. As they get closer, you can clearly make out that they’re...

“Dragons.” A black one circles around a white one, both of them exchanging fire in turn. All of the women begin to squeal, their excited chatter like the sounds of birds in the morning light.

“You came to just in time,” the tall, blood-red woman nudges you, smiling widely. “His Holiness and His Highness like to spar during the day, and it looks like they’re putting on quite the show.”

“Ah,” you answer, looking back up at the dragons, who were getting even closer, almost right upon the place where you all stood.

“What’s your name?” she asks, raising a brow at you.

“Y/n,” you reply, fiddling with the edges of your sleeves.

“I’m Clymenestra,” the woman offers her hand to you, and you take it, shaking it firmly. “But everyone calls me Cly. I’m the head of household affairs, so if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to send for me.”

“Household affairs?”

“Food, drink, sheets, anything you associate with households, I’m in charge of it.”

“So… you’re not the Dragon God’s… wives?”

Cly laughs, tossing her head back and holding her stomach as her fox-like features slide into a wide grin. “Oh, y/n, you are so funny!” You turn back to the spectacle in front of you and watch as the two dragons engage in a death-drop, wrapping around each other in an endless loop.

“They’re going to do it!” Someone squeals and you all watch as they drop into the water right below them, neglecting to emerge for what feels like eons. As you scan the shoreline for any signs of re-emerging dragons, you wonder why two dragons - fire-breathing creatures - would descend into the depths of what appeared to be an ocean. But when two male figures emerge from the sea, you’re suddenly aware that it was just what Cly said: it was all a show.

“Oh! Cly, we have to get their robes!” One of the women shouts and the women break into a frenzy again, scurrying about and opening drawers and shutting wardrobes, hands suddenly filled with different articles of clothing. Clymenestra stands beside you, arms folded over her chest as she oversees the chaos, then opens a set of doors that leads to a large, long hallway. The doors at the end of the hallways open out to the outdoors at the same time, and you watch the women file neatly into the hallway in two rows. Cly tugs you to her side at the end of the line, holding your hand with an iron grip.

“Say nothing until I introduce you.”

When the two men who resurfaced from the sea stride through the doors, you swallow hard, feeling your palms become clammy at the sight of the muscles on display.

Oh, no. They’re hot.

“Your Holiness.”

“Your Highness.”

The women coo these words interchangeably as a black, long-haired man and a white-haired man take the clothing offered to them, wrapping the towels and silk robes around themselves. As the white-haired man gets closer to you, your knees begin to quake under your dress, his blue eyes piercing your soul.

“Clymenestra, it seems we have a new guest here,” he purrs, placing a hand on his hip. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m--” Cly yanks on your hand surreptitiously, which stops your speech.

“Her name is y/n, and she’s the newest addition to His Holiness’ household, your Highness.”

“Ah,” the man sighs, looking away. “I was hoping they would send me a new plaything this time.” The black-haired man catches the end of this conversation, tying his black robe around him and raising a brow.

“Have you asked for a new plaything, Gojo?” he wonders as his black eyes slide to you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch his gaze, which is tender and curious. Not at all like the devouring gaze the man with the blue eyes gave you.

“No,” the blue-eyed man mumbles, walking down a different corridor and disappearing.

“I’m sorry about my friend, he’s a little touchy around this time of year,” the black-haired man mentions, and Cly bobs into a small curtsy.

“Your Holiness, this is y/n.”

“What a beautiful name,” he muses, and you bow your head slightly. “You can refer to me as Geto.” When he speaks to you - and so familiarly at that - you feel a shiver run down your spine and rest in the pit of your stomach. “You’re my guest here and I will treat you as such. Have you fully recovered from your episode?” he wonders, and you nod in response, words unable to be formed in your mouth. “Fantastic. Let’s have dinner, I know you’re probably famished after losing your horse.” Cly urges you to follow him down a separate corridor, and you follow obediently.

_____________________________________________________________

Two pairs of eyes are on you as you try to politely scarf down the food offered. When the smell of loaves of bread, meats, cheeses, fish, delicacies you’ve only dreamed of having for the past five years wafted into your nose, your rational mind switched off and your self-preservation kicked in. Now, you were sitting at a table for four in the middle of a large dining hall that could possibly hold twenty couples total. The room is the same white and golden color scheme, only this time, the chairs and table cloths are black.

“You would think the villagers would have fed her,” Gojo - his highness - grumbles as you shove a slice of bread into your mouth. Geto just chuckles, picking at his own food with little interest.

“No, Satoru. They were cruel enough to send her up the mountain, certain she would die. Why would they waste food during a famine?” The famine. You look up from your plate at the black-haired one and frown, mouth full of food.

“We sacrifice women to you so that you’ll send rain.” You mention, and he shrugs, shaking his head. “At least, that’s what the elders tell us.”

“He’s not a rain god,” Gojo replies, steepling his fingers together. “So there’s something wrong about that assumption.”

“But we’ve been doing it for--”

“Two decades.” Geto finishes for you, then looks down at his plate before clearing his throat. “What did you do in the village, y/n?” He wonders, changing the subject suddenly.

“I--” I stole some food. I lived on the streets. I was an orphan.

I am an orphan.

“What difference does it make? Obviously, she wasn’t valuable enough for them to want to preserve her life.” Gojo interrupts, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like she’s not better off up here, Suguru.”

“But--” you try to speak, but Geto speaks over you, holding a hand out so Gojo will stop talking.

“Gojo, I know that. I just want to know a little more about our guest here. Is that okay with you?” The blue-eyed man tosses his hands up in defeat, squinting at you after looking you up and down. “Y/n, tell me about your time in the village. What did you do before you were picked?”

“I was… an orphan,” you admit, and Geto leans back in his chair, humming softly. Gojo runs a hand through his white locks, averting his gaze.

“My condolences,” Geto murmurs, tilting his head to the side so his hair dangled to the left. “Were you very close?”

“Are you going to sacrifice me?” you blurt, and Geto and Gojo both frown. “I mean, am I going to die after eating this meal?” Gojo tries his best to hold in his laughter, but fails miserably, tilting back in his chair as the sharp sounds echo around the room. You turn back to Geto, who chuckles as well and is hunched over in his seat.

“No, no, no,” Gojo wipes the tears from his eyes and continues. “You’re out guest, y/n. We would be horrible hosts if we killed you.”

“So what am I here for?” you reply, and Geto whispers:

“You’re only here to repay a debt, y/n. It has nothing to do with you personally, but just know, you’re not going to die. Actually, I would go as far as saying that you have the opportunity to live forever.”

TAGLIST: @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @brownskinnedgirll

#geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou x reader #getou suguru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader

[aggressivelyarospec]

hi! ASAW dorm program planner anon here. heads up: this'll be a bit long, sorry! just wanted to say thank you for the encouragement! I was really anxious about it and that really helped. just finished up the program, and it went great! my hall director was really excited about the idea and the handouts I showed her during our 1:1, so we printed out a bunch (in color, so we've got those beautiful aro greens!) of each for people to pick up. (we used the ones about amatonormativity, intro to aromanticism, and common aro identities from AUREA.) we ended up just decorating cookies instead of doing the speed-friend thing, which I honestly think is for the best lol. everyone was talking with each other and had a really nice time! the cookies were great too, and there were actually people looking at the handouts while they were decorating and taking them with them to read when they left! somebody was flipping through one and really excitedly asked their friend if they'd looked at them yet, and someone else started a (short, but still) convo about WTFromantic with me. it was really relieving, because I honestly thought people would just come for the cookies and leave without even looking at the handouts, or worse, but definitely something I was bracing myself for, people would be making fun of the concept of aromanticism and generally be arophobic—and while a few people definitely did just come for the cookies, no one was a jerk! so, big win! running the event was less intimidating than I thought, especially because we've just started this thing this semester where each event is lead by a different person so we're all taking on different responsibilities and getting more experience and stuff, so it's not like it's just bc I'm aro and I suggested it that I had to do it, which felt like it took a lot of the pressure off. we got a great turnout! really good numbers for us, the table was full almost the whole time, and we were able to get through all the cookies, and without running out early. my hall director and one of the other members of the team were also talking about how the pamphlets are really cool, and the director said she went to the site it was from (AUREA) and some of the resources they had, and that she also looked through the other handouts and things they had on there (in her free time, which she barely has, on her own, without prompting, because she felt like it and thought it was interesting?? !!!), and she thought it was all super cool, really well done, and informative. so. massive success in my book!! can't tell you how happy I am about how this went!

I also made a cookie myself, with green sprinkles making an arrow, and then I had some time to kill while just talking and overseeing things, so I jazzed it up a little with some yellow sprinkles around the edges, and some silver edible glitter, so now it kind of reminds me of the alloaro flag. I'd send in a picture, but I'm a bit too shy to come off anon. anyway, thanks for the help, and thanks for letting me ramble! sorry for clogging up your inbox. have a great day/night! and happy ASAW! :)

Hello! Wow, that sounds fantastic. Congratulations, you did a great job. It's really wonderful they were respectful, but even more that they were interested in it, definitely a big win! You did something amazing there, thank you for sharing it with us.

Also, you can send the picture if you want and we can post it for you so you don't have to come off anon. Either way, we're sure it was gorgeous and tasty!

-- Caro

#anonymous #ask

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

The one that got away...

Warning: None, just fluffy fluff Word count: 1,7k   Summary: With a mysterious past on your pack you make your way to Wayne manor to find Damian Wayne, only to be faced with our favorite butler and a nice cup of tea... Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Requested by a lovely-dove(l)y(?) Anon: My first request is The reader from is damians past in the league of assassins and she shows up at the house while everyone is not there ( expect Alfred of course) and the just have tea and wait for him to return and when he returns ( with everyone else) he just like runs up to her and kisses her and everyone is like what the heck who is she

A/N: I didn’t really specify the ‘girl’ as the reader, but I’m sure we all know that she is supposed to be you, also AHSOSDFSJFSOPDJ all the fluff (also I really didn’t know what to call it, so the title is maybe a bit weird, but yeah)

It was noon when the doorbell of the manor rung and Alfred made his way to the entrance to check who it was. He was expecting a postman or a delivery, maybe one of the older children - who had made plans to join them for dinner on that day-, since everyone who lived in the giant house was out at the moment (Cass, Damian and Tim were in School and Bruce was in the city-office for once). What he surely didn’t expect was to open the door to see a young girl looking up at him with eyes that were so serious he almost felt threatened, not to mention the fact that she was wearing a dark fighting suit that was equipped with a hood that was laying over her hair and had knives, a sword and what looked like the outlines of a small handgun hidden in it, but not well enough for Alfred to oversee them. Working with tons of vigilantes teaches you one thing or another after years. It looked quite similar to what Damian wore when he had first come to them and it didn’t take much for him to make the connection to her being a member of the league of assassins. He wasn’t quite sure what to do at that point, but he kept his composure. “How may I help you?” he politely asked and was almost relieved when he saw her stoic demeanour change into an unsure one. She looked around a bit and shifted from one foot to the other. “Uhm...Is- Is this the home of Damian Wayne?” she asked, but couldn’t keep her eyes on him, instead opting to look at her hands as she fiddled with them. Alfred had spent enough time with traumatised, scared children that he could recognize the signs no matter how good the girl was with hiding it, the way she was looking around, shifting - as if she was ready to run away at any moment- and had one hand always near where he presumed a set of knives to be. He didn’t want to set her off so he just nodded, trying to seem as un-dangerous as possible. “Could I maybe talk to him? If that would be possible?” “I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” he started but regretted his choice of words as soon as he saw her composure falter. He quickly continued: “He is currently in School but he should be back in about an hour if you’d like to wait.” Her face seemed to brighten up and she looked at him like she was looking at Santa Clause. “That would be preferable,” she mumbled and smiled a bit, her face looked like it wasn’t used to stretch in that way. Alfred noticed how her voice sounded like she was thanking him, but her words weren’t exactly saying that, but he had seen Damian in his first few months with them so he was aware that these words were more than he could’ve expected from him back then. He led her inside and made an off-comment about her maybe wanting to leave the weapons at the door, he was well aware that asking that would most likely be futile if she was anything like Damian, only to be surprised when she took off the hood and emptied every visible and a lot of previously invisible pockets. Stacking up a dozen different kind of knives, the gun that Alfred had expected earlier, the sword and some other weapons he wouldn’t have foreseen. The act alone, even though the Butler wasn’t gullible enough to actually think she had no other weapons on her, showed him that the girl wasn’t hostile or posed a threat.

Damian was far beyond annoyed by now. When School had ended he had hoped he could go home and be left alone until it was time to go on patrol, but of course, the universe decided that the exact opposite would happen. He stepped out of Gotham Academies Gates alongside Cass who had caught up to him in the hall to be greeted by the sighed of his worst nightmare. His family in casual clothes leaning onto a car. Bruce was standing at the driver’s door beside Dick, the two of them chatting, Tim was sitting on the Hood of the car typing on his Phone and Jason was leaning onto his bike right beside the black car. “What are they doing here? Where is Pennyworth?” Damian scoffed and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Family dinner tonight,” Cassandra just shrugged and walked over to her older brothers and father. “Tt,” he huffed and joined them, brooding to himself as he quickly sat down in the backseat of the car, not wanting to necessarily talk to anyone, not even his family. They stayed on the spot for a few minutes while they were making conversation before finally, Dick, Tim, Cass and Bruce entered the vehicle, Jason sitting down onto his bike to trail after, and started making their way to the Manor. The drive was just barely tolerable, but luckily no one bothered him further than asking him about his day or how School was. God, he just wanted that day to be over with and go on Patrol already. He almost sighed with relieve when Bruce drove into the Manor spacious garage and they were able to leave the car. The six of them walking through the building to greet Alfred (Well Dick and Jason wanted to greet him, Bruce had to talk to him also and Tim, Cass and Damian had to take that route if they wanted to get to their rooms quicker). They were slightly confused when they heard two voices instead of one from inside the living room, one of them having the all too familiar tone of Alfred. He sounded by no means scared or aggressive so they weren’t worried for him, although still quite curious. They opened the door and caught sight of their beloved butler sitting opposite of a girl in a suit that they recognize all too well, not to mention the small blade that was laying beside the steaming teacup on the saucer. In the blink of a second five of the six were in a fighting stance, although more defensive than aggressive since the girl was still just sitting there drinking tea. She looked up at them and everyone in the room could immediately feel the shift in mood. Bruce mustered her and noticed how her eyes were fixated on something and he followed her gaze to his youngest son that was mirroring the girls look and Bruce couldn’t quite tell what it was that was plastered all over their faces. He noticed how Damian, arguably the most hostile child of his, hasn’t assumed any kind of defensive or aggressive stance, instead of looking rather dumbfounded. For a second there’s complete silence, but then Damian just leapt forward to the girl that basically jumped up from the chair and enveloped her in his arms. He basically picked her up and swung her around in a circle, almost throwing the table through the room if it hasn’t been for Alfred who held it stable, before setting her down again and doing something that shocked his family, well all except our saint butler, even further. He cupped her cheek with a softness they have never seen before, the girl immediately leaning into his touch, before he gave her a simple, soft, but visibly loving kiss, after which he withdrew and looked at her like she was the only person in the universe, while her eyes were still closed in bliss. “Habibti,” Damian mumbled as he laid his head into the crook of the girl’s neck and rubbed his nose lovingly against it, her hands digging into his hair as she just relished in his presence, seemingly not even realizing that there were still five new people in the room beside Alfred whom she had befriended during the hour and a half they had spent chatting and drinking tea, going as far as to actually telling him who she was (more or less) and why she was there. About how she and Damian had grown up, trained and fallen in love at the league together - she hadn’t been ‘royalty’ like he was, but her parents were high enough in the ranks that no one minded her and Damian being acquaintances - then had hidden their relationship and she had asked him to run away with her, but he had felt too much loyalty to his family to accept and they had agreed to stay in the league for a while more until they knew what to do. After that Damian’s family must have somehow found out about their relationship because she quickly found herself locked up. Later she found out that they had told Damian she had run away without him after all and then sent him to his father, after which they allowed her to go out of her cell again (only under strict surveillance). Somehow she managed to slowly gain the trust of a few other members who she managed to get information from, finding out how Damian had basically abandoned the league and was now loyal to his father. After that, she knew that she had to get to him and clear everything up and after planning out every crucial detail, she actually managed to run, using her training to get herself to America and then to Gotham without leaving a trace. Oh, how happy she was to find out that after shifting onto his father’s side Damian did the best he could to find another league member who he just said escaped the league, without telling anyone who that person exactly was. That was how she knew that everything could get better again. The first one out of Damian’s family members, that were still standing in a fighting stance, to break the silence was Bruce who looked like the sky just turned neon-green. He cleared his throat which gained the attention of Damian and the girl who parted and turned around, even though Damian was still clutching her hand into his. “You have a lot of explaining to do young man…”

#Damian Wayne #Damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #dc #dc x reader #dc universe #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #Tim Drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #cass cain #orphan #black bat #Alfred Pennyworth

[musetta3]

Dragon Age OC as a Companion: Revka Cadash

Trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan it’s an amazing one and I had such fun with it! Thank you for the template!

This will be under a cut, because ohhhhhh my, there’s a lot here <3

This is also on AO3!

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀) 

You have selected Revka Cadash to join your party!

Race: Dwarf 

Affiliation: Carta 

Gender: Female

Class: Rogue/Archer

Specialization: artificer

 Background

Revka Cordelia Cadash (born 8:95 Blessed) is a dwarven rogue and businesswoman. She is a companion and a potential romance option for a male human, dwarf, or qunari Inquisitor in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Revka is a member of the many-membered Cadash Clan, and daughter of Brygida ‘Cookie’ Cadash and Artur ‘Archie’ Cadash. She has an older brother, Tavi, as well as numerous cousins, including Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash, the head of the Ferelden Carta.  

Revka grew up in the company of her rambunctious cousins, and thus views them like brothers and sisters. It’s common for Cadashes to play tricks and pull pranks on each other as a way to show affection, as is evidenced in the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze.’ Some of Revka’s favorite pranks include spiking food with chili oil, switching people’s beverages, hiding belongings, and breaking into ‘private’ things such as journals, desk contents, or that box of cookies under the bed.  

Revka made a name for herself in the Carta accompanying her mother and cousins on patrol as a teen. Her deadly accuracy with a bow earned her the nickname ‘Hawkeye;’ her duties quickly expanded to include ‘problem-solving’ for the Carta, her solutions ranging from assassinations, blackmail, and negotiating contracts, to smuggling, and forgeries. Her successful business plans and battle tactics made her a valuable asset to the Carta.

In 9:13 Dragon, Revka married Iwan Feddic, a member of the merchant caste and a Cadash client in Ostwick. She helped her husband run his international shipping business, a venture she took over after his untimely death. When Dasher’s wife, Darya, died at the hands of the Orlesian Carta, Revka returned to Ferelden to help her cousin raise his five children, turning over the Ostwicker affairs to her brother, Tavi.

When the Cadashes eliminated a rival Carta branch in Kirkwall, they sent Artur Cadash to oversee operations in the city. 22-year-old Revka volunteered to accompany him, becoming her father’s second in command. Once arrived in Kirkwall, she helped him found Graywater Imports, an import/export company functioning as a storefront for both legal and illegal goods. She is a prominent member of the Cadash Carta branch in Kirkwall, often dealing with the Dwarven Merchant Guild and Varric Tethras.

Romance with Varric Tethras

Shortly after Revka arrived in Kirkwall, she met the young Varric Tethras. What began as mixing business with pleasure became a romantic entanglement that lasted until Tethras met the talented smith Bianca Davri, and broke off with Revka for Bianca. As much as Revka wanted to cut all ties with him, she maintained their business relationship… and an unrequited, one-sided love for the deshyr prince.

Involvement

A special mission at the War Table will unlock a quest at Kirkwall’s Docks, ‘Ten Shades of Graywater,’ in which the Inquisitor will receive a mysterious anonymous letter inviting them to the coast to discuss a purveyor/supplier contract for the Inquisition. The Inquisitor will arrive in a seemingly abandoned alley, but is ambushed by Coterie thugs. After the enemies are slain, Revka can be engaged in conversation.

If Varric is in the party, he will be surprised to see Revka. It’s revealed that they know each other through various business ventures, and are old acquaintances… although the weighted, bitter quality of Revka’s answers imply that their relationship is more complicated than Varric had said.

Upon further questioning, Revka pitches her business proposal: wholesale lyrium for the Inquisition’s mages or Templars, with access to the Cadash Family’s network of spies, businesses, and Carta members for Inquisition purposes. Her only condition is that her family obtains an industry monopoly, becoming the sole provider of lyrium for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.

Revka can be found near the archery targets and training dummies in Haven. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, Revka spends time training in the courtyard, in Skyhold’s main hall talking to Varric, or in the rookery, spoiling her messenger crow, Cipher, with treats. Dialogue options will reveal that she uses the bird keep in contact with her family and business associates.

 Approval and Romance

Revka can be romanced by a male Inquisitor of any race, and will jokingly comment on the height differences if romanced by a qunari, elf, or human. A Cadash inquisitor of either gender can unlock Carta-specific dialogue. Revka is guarded at first, giving out only generic information about her family, but with some persistent questioning the Inquisitor can wear her down. Depending on dialogue choices, the conversation can end with the Cadashes exchanging stories of ‘colorful’ family members and an approval gain.

   Revka takes a more pragmatic view on politics: she supports whoever pays the most, and sells lyrium to both the Templars and mages without discrimination. Upon learning the truth behind the events Redcliffe, however, she is dismayed to learn what her products enabled. Traveling to Redcliffe with Revka in the party will trigger her personal quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes.’ (this quest will trigger after the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold if the player sided with the Templars)

Revka approves of Inquisitors who are tenacious, calculating/far-sighted, and does what is best for the majority. She believes that the end justifies the mean, sanctioning death only as a last resort. She approves of bold plans, investigating all aspects of a quest before making a decision, and an Inquisitor who makes jokes (especially puns). Her sense of justice changes as the player completes more of her personal quests. She will approve of charitable acts and kindness as the game progresses and her personal beliefs change.

Revka’s romance can be initiated through the conventional method flirting and conversation. During the quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes,’ the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, leading to a kiss.

If Revka is not romanced by an Inquisitor, she can enter a relationship with Varric Tethras, but only if the Inquisitor assists in reconciling the two ex-lovers. Revka’s romantic past with Varric is hinted at in party banter if both are present, the two bickering with each other. This series of quests are available post-arrival at Skyhold, and has conditional dialogue for certain scenarios.

Revka gets along well with Dorian and Cassandra, bonding with them over their mutual love of books. It’s revealed that the three of them have an unofficial ‘book club’ going on, where they read various novels and comment on them in party banter. Revka also gets along well with Sera, bonding over pulling pranks in Haven and Skyhold. She makes a special bond with Leliana over nugs, owning a nug, herself.

Revka does not trust Solas from the moment she meets him, stating he knows too much, and is fond of talking without saying anything. She also suspects Blackwall of hiding something.

Companion Quests

Scales Fall from Her Eyes

After the events of Redcliffe, the Inquisitor will receive a note from Revka to meet her at the abandoned cabin outside Haven. Or, if the player sided with the Templars, this will trigger once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold. At the meeting, she will share her guilt and horror at what occurred. She questions her personal beliefs, and offers an apology with the promise to amend her family’s business practices. After this quest, Revka is more empathetic, approving of selfless and charitable acts, whereas before she’d disapprove.

At the end of the quest, the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, which can lead to a kiss, if desired.

Varric’s Quest in Valammar

Revka can be found beside the fireplace in the main hall, arguing with Varric over the contents of a particular letter. Upon investigation, the Inquisitor learns that Revka has broken into the locked box in which Varric keeps his correspondence, which she claims he’s done to her on multiple occasions over the years. He neither denies nor confirms the accusation. Revka demands to know why Varric is still in contact with ‘that woman,’ declares she won’t set foot in the main hall until his ‘guest’ is gone, and leaves, demanding the Inquisitor ‘talk some sodding sense into him.’

This leads into Varric’s quests with Bianca Davri, and some cutting comments from Bianca calling Revka a ‘sore loser.’ Varric comes to Revka’s defense, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

If the Inquisitor takes Revka to Valammar, she disapproves and will grouse all the way there, cutting snide remarks whenever Varric says something. She becomes jealous during Bianca and Varric’s reminiscing, interjecting and muttering. Her anger only grows as the quest proceeds, Revka calling out Bianca for her selfish, pragmatic methods and carelessness. Once Inquisitor concludes the quest, Revka declares she needs some air, and says she’ll meet the Inquisitor at the nearest inquisition camp later.

Upon arrival at the campsite, a scout reports that Revka never returned to camp. The Inquisitor must search the nearby area; eventually, they find Revka injured after being ambushed by bandits (the Inquisitor and the party must defeat them in order for the quest to proceed).

If Varric is present, he will be upset, demanding to know why she would be so foolish as to wander around alone. Revka half-jokes, claiming how surprised she is that Varric cares about her safety, after all these years. Varric’s expression visibly shifts. The Inquisitor arranges for her immediate medical care, but it’s too serious a wound for her to remain out in the field. After this point, Revka is unavailable as a companion until after the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold.

Once the Inquisitor returns, they will find Varric in the central courtyard, pacing outside the infirmary/medical tents. The medic will inform the Inquisitor that Varric hasn’t left since Revka’s arrival, but refuses to go inside to see her. Selecting Varric for a conversation will show he can’t bear to face her after what happened at Valammar; he feels especially guilty, knowing that she got hurt in an attempt to calm down after the encounter. The Inquisitor can remind Varric that his apology should be to Revka, not them. To trigger their romance, the Inquisitor can encourage him to visit Revka and share his feelings.

If the Inquisitor visits her instead, they will gain high approval with her, and further unlock romance scenes. After the visit in the tent, Revka will invite the Inquisitor to her quarters to personally ‘thank’ him. The Inquisitor can choose to accept her proposition, or refuse. Depending on choice, Revka may sleep with the Inquisitor. There is an option to break relations off with Revka the morning after.

 Revka’s Family

Revka’s war table missions mostly revolve around business opportunities she’s scouted out for the Inquisition throughout Thedas. Some of these are triggered through conversations with Revka in the rookery or throughout Skyhold. Completing quests from her cousin Jon in Tevinter will reveal Venatori camps on all game-maps, and will reduce the cooldown time on war table quests dealing with Venatori in general.

Revka’s cousin, Czibor, can be encountered in the Hissing Wastes hunting Venatori. Accompanying xem in eliminating a Venatori camp can lead to xir recruitment as an Inquisition agent.

The Trouble with Tavi

After the quest Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Revka will ask to meet the Inquisitor, requesting their assistance in a matter of life or death. She reveals that she’s received a letter from the Orlesian Carta, stating their displeasure at the Inquisitor’s choice of ruler, since they’re encroaching on the Orlesian Carta’s operations. They know Revka and the Cadash family has been helping the Inquisition, and threaten to exact revenge. She’d thought it an empty threat until her brother Tavi stopped replying to her letters. Upon investigation, it’s revealed that the Orlesian Carta kidnapped Tavi and have hid him at their base in Val Royeaux. Revka asks the Inquisitor for assistance.

Should the Inquisitor refuse Revka, she will greatly disapprove, stating that her brother’s more important that the Inquisitor’s ‘sodding principles,’ and leave the Inquisition to save him. She will not be available again until later in the game (post Adamant), when a war table mission will appear from Tavi in Ostwick, stating that Revka saved him and has returned to Kirkwall. She is still very offended, and is considering terminating the Cadash business contracts with the Inquisition. He urges the Inquisitor to please make her reconsider, citing the monetary gain the contracts net him but also Revka’s hurt (note: the letter will also reference a romanced Varric, asking the Inquisitor to enlist his help). The Inquisitor has the choice to make up with Revka and invite her back, or leave her be.  

Should the Inquisitor choose to help Revka, she will greatly approve and travel with the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux. Varric—regardless of the romance status—will also express interest in coming, but bringing him along is not required. Revka will be touched by his offer, regardless.

The meeting place mentioned in the Carta’s letter is an abandoned oil warehouse at the docks. Inside, the companions note the derelict condition of the place. The further they travel into the warehouse, following a trail of blood, the smell of rancid oil grows stronger. In a storeroom, there is a lone dead dwarf bearing a note, a man Revka recognizes as Tavi’s second in command in Ostwick. If the Inquisitor can find Tavi before time runs out, the note says, they’re welcome to him. As the Inquisitor reads the note aloud, a shadow darts in the periphery; the door slams shut, locking them in. A torch is thrown in through a window, setting the spilled oil on fire.

The Inquisitor may, through a series of dialogue choices, decide to rescue Tavi or leave him to his fate, opting to escape. If the Inquisitor chooses to escape and leave Tavi behind, Revka will greatly disapprove, running off to find him herself. If she is romanced by Varric, he will also greatly disapprove, stating that they should go after Revka. If the Inquisitor chooses this route, they can still save Revka and Tavi. Otherwise, the two Cadashes are not seen again, supposedly perishing in the fire. Revka will then be unavailable as a companion for the remainder of the game.  

The mission to save Tavi is time-sensitive, with several endings: should the Inquisitor take too long to escape or find Tavi, the warehouse will collapse on them, killing everyone. The timer, separated into quarters, is marked by sections of the roof collapsing: escaping by the third collapse will guarantee the party’s safety. Escaping post-third collapse can result in a 50% chance of the roof collapsing on the party: if this occurs, Revka pushes either her love interest or her brother out of the way of a falling beam, sacrificing herself for their safety. The mission then ends with the party barely escaping in time, mourning the loss of their lover and/or friend.

Pranks

Various pranks around Skyhold and Haven are attributed to Revka via ambient dialogue and party banter. If the approval rate is high enough, Inquisitor has an opportunity to join Revka in pulling pranks around Skyhold post-Adamant. She claims that she’d like to cheer everyone up, and would like the Inquisitor’s help.

Prank 1: sneak into the kitchen and switch the sugar out for salt in a cake.

Prank 2: paint a smiley face on the back of a sleeping Solas’s head

Prank 3: Rearrange Vivienne’s furniture

Prank 4: Distract Varric so she can steal his letters and replace them with scrambled riddles

A cutscene follows, showing a crowd standing at the base of a flagpole the morning after. Revka pushes through the crowd, gasping: someone has nailed her frilly blue panties to the pole. Varric is seen leaning against a column, howling with laughter. Revka pulls a face at him and scowls, but eventually ends up laughing, too. (Note: this is inspired by the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze’)

Trespasser

If Revka left or died during the events of the game, she will not be at the Winter Palace. Otherwise, there are several outcomes as to what she’s been doing…

If she romanced Varric, she returned to Kirkwall and is his lover

If she romanced the Inquisitor, she stayed alongside him as an Inquisition agent

If she did not romance anyone, she returned to Kirkwall

There is an option to marry Revka as a romanced Inquisitor, or urge her to marry Varric. If she marries, her brother Tavi and a recruited cousin Czibor may attend the ceremony.

 Combat comments

Kills an enemy

And stay dead!

Sodding nughumper, good riddance.        

Low Health

A little help would be lovely!

Oh shit. Not good.

Atredum na satolva! Toss me a health potion,     will you?

I’m too old for this…        

Low Health (Companions)

(The Inquisitor) Inquisitor!

(The Inquisitor - if romanced) Hold on, love!

(Varric, unromanced) Varric, you don’t look so     good...

(Varric, if romanced) Oh shit, don’t you dare die on     me.  

(Sera) Can someone check on Sera, please?

(Cassandra) Cass! Wait!

(Dorian) Dorian needs help!

Location comments

(Approaching Camp) Ahhh! Home sweet tent. 

(When collecting a shard) Ooh! I wonder how much it’d fetch at market.

Storm Coast

(sighs) They ought to call this place the ‘Soggy Coast,’ or the ‘Sopping Coast.’  My socks are soaked through to my boots.

Fallow Mire

The bugs will drain you dry before the undead will. Nug-humping bastards keep biting me…

Anyone else feel eyes watching you from the shadows?

Hinterlands

(Laughs) You know, back when I was running jobs for the Carta, I would get so lost here in the Hinterlands. Good to know things haven’t changed.

Don’t go near there; bears love that place. I learned that the hard way…

(at Witchwood) Ah, the Which-Witch-is-Which-Wood. Da would warn my brother and I about this place when were children.

The Hissing Wastes

I have sand in places I never knew existed.

Why my cousin had to choose to hunt Venatori in the ass-end of nowhere is beyond me…

Emprise du Lion

(scoffs) Snow. Snow. More sodding snow. I’m up to my tits in the stuff.

We don’t get snow like this in Kirkwall.

(on seeing a snowfleur) Ooh, look! Fluffy nugs! Can I take one home? Lucky could use a friend.

Emerald Graves

I…I heard the reason why this place is called the Emerald Graves. Such a tragic story.

I didn’t expect such greenery this far south, to be honest.

Exalted Plains

(shivers) You can feel the sorrow in this place.

 Companion Comments

Blackwall: “Rev? She’s a bit… unnerving, to be honest. Never smiles, glares holes in the side of your head. Offered to sell my carvings in Denerim, though: two sovereigns apiece. I swear she could sell water to a fish, that woman…”

Varric: “(Laughs) Hawkeye and I go way back. Don’t let her innocent face fool you: she’ll bleed you dry at Wicked Grace if you let her. Learned some of my best tricks from her—Don’t…erm. Don’t tell her that.”

OR

“Do you know how Hawkeye got her name? She shot a fly from across a room, once. Still don’t know how she did it.”

(If Inquisitor romanced Revka) Hawkeye’s a sweet girl, under all the Carta bullshit. I’m glad she has you; she deserves some happiness in her life.”

(If romances Revka): “I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure, but I get all the best discounts at Graywater Imports, now. You want anything? I think they’re running a sale on Antivan leather, at the moment.”

OR

“She’s probably upstairs feeding Cipher, knowing her. Or taking another order for Dagna; buys crafting supplies like candy, that one.”

Sera: “Rev’s fun, not all stuffy just ‘cause she’s someone back home, yeah? Takes jokes well. Can’t shoot for shit, though…”

Cole: Ash, steel, gray, withering inside at the sight of him smiling at her. Don’t look back, you’re not going that way; old coals don’t rekindle. It bleeds under her armor, but she can’t bandage the wound. I want to help. (if she romances Varric) but he helped her feel whole again. (if she romances the Inquisitor) but you helped her feel whole again.

Solas: “Is it wise to allow a known member of the Carta in our ranks? She actively seeks information and passes it along to her superiors.”

OR

“Do tell Mistress Cadash that if she breaks into my desk one more time, I shall ward the drawers to set her on fire. I can tolerate harmless pranks, but one thing I cannot abide is liars who snoop.”

Iron Bull: “They say still waters run deep, and she’s no exception. She might appear all laughs and smiles, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dorian: “Ah, my darling Rev: she has excellent taste in literature and baked goods.” (if she romances Varric) “And dwarven merchant princes.”

Cassandra: “I doubted her intentions, at first, but she has proven herself quite useful to the Inquisition. If you see her, tell her to return my book, will you? She ‘borrowed’ a week ago, and I want to know what happens to the poor Guard Captain.”

Vivienne: “Mistress Cadash would do quite well at court; she understands the Game surprisingly well for one who’s not a courtier. Too strong from the onset, however: the idea is to gain a person’s trust, not frighten them into submission.”

Cullen: “I knew Mistress Cadash back in Kirkwall; I’d frequent Graywater Imports often. They carry three kinds of hair pomade there, did you know?”

Josephine: “Mistress Cadash has many useful connections throughout Thedas; I’m pleased she offers them to us so freely. But then, we’re making her a rich woman with all the business contracts. Quid pro quo, as the Tevinters say.”

Leliana: “Rev is a shrewd woman, fierce and good at her craft. Did you know that she has a pet nug in Kirkwall? She always has something for the birds when she comes here; I like her.”

 Trivia

It’s said that the young Varric Tethras wrote his  first novel, The Dasher’s Men, about Edric Cadash, Revka’s cousin. The femme fatale who assists the hero of the tale, Revka, is heavily inspired by Varric’s lover at the time, Revka Cadash. An autographed copy of The Dasher’s Men can be found in the rookery, where Revka sits.  

Revka adores cookies, and has been trying to get the secret brandy snap recipe off of her cousin, Edric, for years. She has tried everything  from recipe book publisher scams to impersonating the Viscount of Kirkwall’s chef to obtain the recipe

In party banter, Revka will mention her nug, Lucky, which, according to the short story, she won  during a rather raucous evening of Wicked Grace.

When Revka isn’t reading, answering correspondence, or training, she enjoys baking, sewing, and embroidery.

Despite being an adept businesswoman, Revka is terrible at bookkeeping, and will often complain about it to Varric… sometimes enlisting him to do it, with a bribe of cookies.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #writing prompt #dai #dragon age companions #revka #revka cadash #Cadash x Varric #dorian pavus #Varric Tethras #dragon age varric #cadash #female cadash

[songofclarity]

Oooh, WRH/NMJ, either (1) the first moment WRH realized he had a Thing for NMJ or (2) arranged marriage AU with all the awkwardness that entails :)

Thank you for the prompt! Let's try the first moment Wen RuoHan realized he had a Thing for Nie MingJue~ I am weak for Wen RuoHan admiring Nie MingJue over something that never gets fully appreciated by anyone else, and having it happen during this occasion is just the cherry on top ❤

☀️

“It sounds like they’re preparing for war up ahead,” Wen Qing said. “Let’s turn back, Uncle.”

They walked the stone paths under the trees of the Unclean Realm with their fans fluttering in front of them. Although the day was sliding into evening, the searing heat had yet to follow suit. Yells and shouts and the ring of steel on steel grew louder as they moved along. They had passed plenty of closed doors and shut gates, nothing that would have prevented Wen RuoHan if he truly wanted to explore, but no one had stopped them strolling the open grounds which had led them to this place.

“Have you ever seen saber practice?” Wen RuoHan asked.

“Years ago when suddenly everyone had a saber for a week, but no one was shouting about it.”

“The Qinghe Nie are a fiercely prideful sect. This is how they welcome us to their discussion conferences.”

Wen Qing sighed. “Frighten us off, you mean?”

“Don't tell me some shouting has frightened you, A-Qing.”

There were few braver than she, however, and even the suggestion did not phase her. Only as they approached a stone arch and the sound of training grew louder did she show any sign of reluctance. “Where are we going?”

Wen RuoHan smiled. “We are taking a closer look.” There was very little reason to attend these conferences beyond seeing what the other sects were doing. Tradition ran deep, however, and methods rarely changed. He wasn’t expecting much, but it was Wen Qing’s first time in the Unclean Realm. A clever girl had grown up into a clever young woman, with fresh eyes that might notice what he himself did not.

Instead, she said, “Sect Leader Nie sent instructions we were to remain at our residence and the Sword Hall this week. It might be best not to push him at his first discussion conference.”

Upon taking the role of sect leader in the wake of his father's death, Nie MingJue had infamously avoided attending the discussion conferences held in Qishan, Lanling, Yunmeng, and Gusu. Only when hosting finally fell upon the Qinghe Nie in rotation did he finally relent to obligation.

Wen RuoHan couldn't blame him. Discussion conferences had become weary when Wen RuoHan had, over the years, lost interest in what his fellow leaders had to say. Their cultivation techniques crawled while all his life he had sought to run. Their management of the night hunts called for small, equal pieces for everyone to nibble upon, but it would be irresponsible of him to let his sect go hungry. And negligent of him to have traveled all this way and not stretch his legs.

“Some things never change,” Wen RuoHan said with some dry fondness as they came upon the training grounds. Dozens of young disciples in their dark, Qinghe Nie robes were paired off and in the midst of practice. Sunlight caught off the silver steel, adding flashes of light to an already aggressive display that looked, after several moments, like a dance.

The man overseeing the training stood taller than all the rest. With his robes hanging off the hips and tied at the waist, he struck a bold and handsome figure even with his eyes narrowed as the setting sun smiled on his face.

“I stand corrected,” Wen RuoHan said pleasantly, feeling the breeze off his fan more acutely. “The view has improved.”

Wen Qing frowned. For all her brilliance, weapons training for cultivation had rarely interested her as much as much as the wounds of the trainees. “The noise has not.”

Indeed, the man leading the lesson had a loud voice that would make meek disciples quiver. To Wen RuoHan’s agreement, the group at present were anything but meek as they all roared back wordlessly in affirmation to their trainer's command.

“Mind your balance!” the man shouted. “The next one who falls over will be standing on their hands and we’ll see if their feet can do better with a saber!”

“Now there is a cultivator who minds his training,” Wen RuoHan mused with a laugh. “We may have to borrow this one to ready our own for next year's conference.” Already decisions had been made to host events in Qishan along with the usual discussions. Horse racing, archery, and duels, plus poetry among others.

Wen Qing gave him a strange look. “That is Nie MingJue, Uncle. Sect Leader Nie.”

Wen RuoHan's smile froze, and then slowly fell. “Ah,” he said, shutting his fan with a soft clap, “he certainly looks nothing like his father.”

“And he's coming this way...”

“So he is. What shall we tell him?”

“...That we are going back to our rooms to have dinner. We look forward to the start of the conference in the morning.”

Wen RuoHan looked at her in surprise. “Are we now?”

“Yes.” And she had already turned away to leave.

“It would be rude of me to not greet our host now that he is here,” Wen RuoHan considered aloud as Nie MingJue walked straight through his fighting disciples to reach them on the most direct path.

Wen Qing hesitated.

“What is that expression, A-Qing?” He motioned her away with the closed fan. “If you do not want to speak with him, then go have the tea ready when I return.”

“...Yes, Uncle.”

She walked back down the path, scattering the shadows that had gathered there. He wasn't sure if she knew the way, but no doubt there would be plenty of volunteers to direct her, blessed as she was with her mother's beauty. Although, now that he thought about it, the Qinghe Nie were said to not be enchanted by beautiful things not made of steel.

“Sect Leader Wen.” Nie MingJue stood on the other side of the stone archway as if a barrier separated then. He glanced to where Wen Qing had gone before continuing, “What are you doing here alone?”

Nie MingJue certainly struck a fine figure up close with skin damp and golden from standing in the sun. Freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks and covered his ample shoulders. He still had his saber in hand, and while he had respectfully sheathed it in his approach, his grip was not relaxed. It was difficult to tell if it was heat radiating off of him or his anger.

Wen RuoHan smiled. “Alone? Do I not still have your Nie cultivators for company?” And he looked over to the small cluster of cultivators less than discreetly stalking him, keeping an eye on him from the shadows of the nearby trees and building from the first moment he had stepped foot in the Unclean Realm.

Nie MingJue was frowning when Wen RuoHan looked back to him. “Is there something you needed?”

Wen RuoHan opened his mouth, then closed it again. A tricky question. “To greet my host and wish him well.” Normally gifts were offered to new Sect Leaders, but Nie MingJue's rise was years ago. Wen RuoHan had not been informed of the past Sect Leader Nie's death until months later when the grieving period was through and the Qinghe Nie had resolutely shut their gates to outsiders for a time. Wen RuoHan looked to the fan in his hand and held it out to Nie MingJue. “These discussion conferences are deceptively long. Cool off and calm down, or you'll run yourself into the ground before the end.”

Nie MingJue's eyebrows pinched his brow--but he took the fan. Strong fingers curled over it, tighter and tighter until Wen RuoHan waited for it to get crushed beneath his fist.

Would a broken fan make up for a broken saber? The fan, however, meant little to him than some meager relief from the heat.

So he was surprised when Nie MingJue dropped his hand to his side with the fan still held tight. His expression was peculiar, as if he held a hundred words stuffed in his mouth and on his tongue. When he spoke his voice was taut with control.

“If you are unable to find your rooms, I can find someone to escort you.”

“Do you think I'm lost?”

“I gave instructions that everyone was to retire to their rooms when they arrived. Either you are lost or you are trespassing.”

Trespassing. Now there was an accusation Wen RuoHan had never heard of.

And yet an apology fluttered in and out of his thoughts, but it would be ingenuous at best. Wen Qing had warned him and he did not regret what he had seen or done. He was Sect Leader Wen, after all. He had been raised to apologize for nothing.

But he wasn’t out to make enemies. Discussion conferences lasted twice as long when everyone was trying to pick a fight. “A little bit of both,” he conceded lightly, although Nie MingJue looked none too pleased to hear it. “I will retire for the evening then. After seeing your management of the saber training, I am looking forward to your management of tomorrow’s discussion. Be sure not to lose your voice before then.”

#my writing #wen ruohan #nie mingjue #ruojue #and yet not enough ruojue #wen qing #asked from above #robininthelabyrinth #some of you might see this again #if i end up writing that longer fic i'm planning

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV: A Rising Chorus

A/N: \o/ It’s done! Been working on this off and on since Balmung finished its Firmament, and I’m so happy I finally get to share it.

RATING: G WORD COUNT: 3032 WARNINGS: Spoilers for the final Ishgard Restoration quest line that begins with “Not By Bread Alone;” tooth-rotting fluff. Crossposted to AO3!

After months of hard work by Ishgardians and outsiders alike, the Firmament lies finished: the last of its homes ready to welcome the indigent of the Brume; its new businesses awaiting eager customers; and the warmth of Snowsoak prepared to soothe the aches and pains of its residents.

They’ve already had one impromptu party...time for an encore!

---

Hoarfrost Hall cast a long shadow over the Firmament as the sun set, the welkin overhead shading from gold to rose to inky blue with the first of the stars beginning to twinkle into existence far to the east. The image of the Hall’s belltower crept down the Abacus, ever closer to the crowd gathering at the far end of Saint Roelle’s Dais, but the growing gloom was offset by the work of the lamplighters, steadily making their way from Featherfall to the New Nest and Eastern Risensong, and the warm glow of candles and hearthfires spilling from the windows of newly-occupied homes. A low susurrus of noise echoed from the Dais as the assembly talked amongst themselves, the sound broken by the occasional bright peal of laughter or the strident twang of a violin being forced back into tune.

Synnove leaned on the railing overlooking the Dais, chin propped in her hand as she watched the Risensong Players warm up for their encore concert. The piano wasn’t Rereha’s usual choice of instrument—she was fonder of violin and lute and harp—but she had cracked her knuckles and thrown herself into that first practice before the first concert with relish, pulling a swirling song from the instrument even as she had complained about being horrifically rusty, the show-off. And better Rere than herself.

She shuddered. Just because she could hear aether as music did not mean that she had any talent or inclination for the art. And wouldn’t that have been the omen, a Warrior of Light and participating skybuilder mucking up the Firmament’s celebratory concert?

At least Rere could say she had participated during the Restoration; her creative talents lay strictly with music and storytelling, but she could plane wood into lumber.

She caught the sound of footsteps coming up behind her, and Synnove turned around in curiosity—and smiled. “Fancy meeting you here,” she drawled.

Aymeric, dressed down in simple leathers, laughed softly as he came to stand beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Synnove pushed herself to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek—he beamed at her, as pleased as any knight when their love bestowed their favor—while he said, “I hope this time I’m not too late!”

“Just in time, my love,” she said fondly, leaning into him. “They’re finishing warm ups, by the sound of it.”

Her knight pressed a kiss into her hair, causing her to beam in turn, and they settled into comfortable silence, looking out to the Dais as a similar hush fell on the crowd. Synnove could vaguely see familiar forms in the press of people, even at this distance: Uncle Edmont with Artoirel (no doubt still wearing that expression of bewildered delight at having his own composition as the showcase of these concerts) and Honoroit; the Haillenarte siblings clustered close to where Francel sat at his piano, radiating pride so fiercely they nearly flavored the aether of the Firmament with it; Heron, off to the side so she wouldn’t block anyone’s view, Amandina and Roksana perched on either shoulder and Arvide with his jaunty beret beside her. Alakhai lurked among a group of Forgotten Knight staff and regulars and Tailfeather hunters at the back of the crowd, and not far from there, Lucia successfully snuck up on Hilda and her Hounds.

(Nobles, commoners, outsiders, even a few of the dragonets who perched on streetlamps and statues. The sight of so many disparate peoples coming together set a warmth in her chest.)

Even this far from the Risensong Players, anticipation made the air nearly hum, no less potent than it had been for the noon show, and Synnove drew in an expectant breath along with Aymeric beside her as the Players raised their instruments or bows to the ready. And then—

—the first notes from Rereha and Francel’s pianos rang out, and their fellows—Handeloup and Emmanellain still on flute, Elaisse and Lizbeth still on violin, and Potkin and Augebert still on cello—joined the symphony.

For all that she didn’t consider herself musical, Synnove found herself humming along, and both felt and heard Aymeric do so, too. She recognized some of the melody Artoirel had used as part of a popular Halonic hymn, but rather than the martial or dirge-like tones of the versions she had heard when she had first come to Ishgard, it had been transformed into something happy and brilliant and celebratory and hopeful. The Firmament was practically giddy with the music, its ambient aether overwhelmed…or perhaps it was harmonizing instead.

Aymeric drew away from her, and she twisted around to look at him in surprise that quickly morphed into delight when he bowed and held out his hand to her, smiling fit to burst all the while. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Synnove took his hand with a grin and replied, “My lord, it would be my honor.”

He pulled her close, his other arm going around her waist as she brought her other hand to his shoulder, and he dropped a kiss on her nose. As she giggled, he twirled them around, turning her giggles into breathless laughter. They made up the steps as they went along, an awful mix of a minuet and a rigaudon, nearly tripping over their own feet, Synnove’s laughter becoming inelegant snorting cackles and Aymeric snickering into her hair. Over the sounds of their mirth, Synnove could hear the crowd clapping along with the music, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the movement of other spontaneous dancers.

Aymeric and Synnove collided to a halt as the song ended with a final flourish and the crowd cheered, pressing their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath between residual giggles. The air between was white from their panting, and she was about to suggest they go to try one of the new food and drink stalls in Featherfall for something hot when the cheery twang of a fiddle rang out across the Dais.

They turned their heads, and even from here they could both see Rereha had abandoned the white piano in favor of her beloved violin, and her bow whipped across the strings to begin a popular reel that was quickly picked up by the other Players, flutes and cellos and piano. Another raucous cheer went up from the crowd, and without prompting, they began to clear a large, open area where lines of dancers quickly formed of both Ishgardians and skybuilders; couples like Lucia and Hilda were hand-in-hand, and friends and family dragged loved ones into the merry scrum. The hulking form of Marcelloix, shaking his head and hunching his shoulders, was easy to pick out, and though the person leading him determinedly through the crowd to the lines couldn’t be seen, there was no doubt in Synnove’s mind that it was Audaine. Those that weren’t lining up to dance instead clapped in time, and in a few more beats, the dancers had begun to dip and spin and whirl about one another in a fast-paced cotillion.

“Turning it into a proper party, this time,” Synnove laughed softly. “Shall we join them?”

Aymeric kissed her temple. “In a little while,” he said. “I’d like to have you to myself for a bit; I’ve barely seen hide nor hair of you in the past sennights.”

“That likely could have been mitigated if a certain someone hadn’t been holed up in parliamentary meetings for whole days at a time…”

“Now that, my love,” he said as they began to dance again in a proper waltz, turning up his nose in faux affront, “is unkind and unjust.”

“But not untrue!”

Their teasing continued as they danced, stepping lightly as the laughter of the crowd and the joy of the music echoed from the Dais. They were coming to the end of the song and slowly twirling towards the Abacus to head to the Dais proper, when—

[Oh! Oh! Is that dancing?!]

The pair glanced up in surprise at the voice that rang out, just in time to see Ehll Tou swoop out of the lamp-studded gloom to gracefully backwing and land a few fulms away. Hautdilong, in a boy-sized fleece-lined leather jacket popular with airship pilots, slid off her back and pushed his flying goggles up to the top of his head, blinking rapidly against the light. His dragon friend, meanwhile, dashed over to the railing, placing her dexterous front hands on the stone and leaning forward with an excited, gravelly trill.

“Oh, goodness,” Hautdilong said, looking out at Saint Roelle’s Dais with wide eyes. “What did we miss? Ehll Tou and I were visiting Gullinbursti and the moogles at Bahrr Lehs the past few days.”

“We finished the Skybuilders’ Monument,” Synnove said, grinning down at the boy when he looked up at her, mouth dropping open. She fought the urge to burst out laughing when Hautdilong’s gaze slid from her to the man next to her and he registered just with whom she had been dancing, and saw Aymeric give a brief half-bow to the lad in acknowledgement. “To make a long story short, a few of the residents wanted to put together a thank you for Francel for his work in overseeing the restoration, and put together a music troupe that performed for the first time earlier today. This,” she gestured at the reforming lines of dancers and the swelling crowd as the Risensong Players began a new song, “is the encore!”

“That explains why I saw Lord Tarresson begin to pack for a trip just as we left this morning!” Hautdilong said. “Someone must have sent him word; he had been speaking to us of how excited he was to see the Firmament finished.”

Ehll Tou suddenly barreled over in the manner of a dragon who sometimes forgot she was much bigger than she used to be, skidding to a halt before she could topple into her two-legged friends. [I want to learn to dance like a child of man!] she said, hopping from foot to foot and wearing her wide, excited smile. [Will you teach me? Please?]

Synnove blinked, momentarily stunned, but it was Aymeric who recovered first. “It would be our honor, Sky Lady,” he said warmly. “Perhaps one of the circle dances to start?”

[I have no idea what that is,] Ehll Tou said, her smile still in place. [But it sounds like fun, so yes!]

“You’ll have to teach me, too, lover-boy,” Synnove teased good-naturedly, poking him in the arm. “You, Hersande, and Baptistaux taught me quadrilles and other court dances, but none of the properly fun ones.”

“Then we will correct that deficiency posthaste,” he said cheerfully. “In fact... Master Hautdilong?”

The boy whipped his head around to Aymeric. “Ah, yes, Lord Speak—er, Ser—” The poor thing had the look of the suddenly nervous and overwhelmed.

“Just ‘Aymeric,’ is fine, especially among friends,” her knight said with a broad wink. Hautdilong slowly smiled back, while Aymeric continued: “Would you happen to be familiar at all with Coerthan circle dances? Particularly the ones from Eastern Coerthas like the branle?”

“I am!” Hautdilong said. “My mother is from the Eastern Lowlands and I was fortunate to travel with her to her home village for the spring planting festivals before the Calamity.”

“My own mama was from the Eastern Highlands,” Aymeric said. “And there’s just enough similarity in some of the town traditions that I believe we’ll manage to teach the ladies well enough. And perhaps some of our other friends, too?”

At that last, he raised his voice, calling out in the shadows, and a with a whoop, a gaggle of children came pelting up the Abacus and rounded the corner to their overlook. Synnove recognized Maelie, Noalle, and some of the Rolanberry Fields children—Lycelle, Peyraquile, and Julchiezain at the forefront—among the group, and following them were a handful of the shier dragonets whose names she had yet to learn. She had been so intent on Aymeric and the music and their mutual joy that she had completely missed the audience they had acquired.

Hautdilong was beaming and, without prompting, began organizing the group of Ishgardian and Dravanian children into a proper circle, with Ehll Tou and her cousins obediently tucking their wings close to avoid knocking other dancers off balance at his suggestion. Synnove dutifully allowed herself to herded elsewhere, exchanging a grin with Aymeric as she was shuffled into the circle between a blue dragonet on her left, who stood on tippy toe to ensure she could properly reach, and Julchiezain on her right. Synnove took a moment to ruffle Julchiezain’s hair—the boy tried to duck around Maelie on his own right to get away from it, but Maelie deftly dodged in turn and shoved him back into his spot and Synnove’s reach with a giggle—before her attention was drawn to the little dragonet tugging at the bottom hem of her vest.

“Hello, little one,” Synnove said, bending down so her face was at level with the dragonet’s. “What can I do for you?”

[My name is Ahm Sorn,] she said shyly, and Synnove melted only a little bit at the sweet, fluting notes of her mental voice. [May we teach this dance to the moogles and our other friends when we return home?]

“You absolutely may!” Synnove said with a smile. “Dances like this are the kind to be shared.”

Little Ahm Sorn made a small, purring little burble in the back of her throat. Synnove’s heart skipped a beat, but she absolutely did not gurgle and try to yank the dragonet into a cuddle. Aymeric shot Synnove a warning look anyway, which she ignored with only a slight pout as she stood up straight once more. She wasn’t actually going to forcibly adopt every sweet little dragonet that crossed her path!

(…She would ask Ehll Tou later who Ahm Sorn’s dam was, and if her dam would like an occasional minder for her daughter.)

Finally, once everyone was settled and hands and paws firmly linked, they all turned to Aymeric expectantly. He smiled at them all and said, “All right, the first set of movements goes like so…”

The next handful of bells were spent stumbling, tripping, and laughing their way through multiple circle dances, most of them Coerthan, until Aymeric made a sly, off-hand comment about Gyr Abanian dances that had the group of children clamoring for Synnove to teach them what she knew. Then Ehll Tou took lead to show them a grounded version of the fluttering, hopping dances that the moogles and dragons of Bahrr Lehs performed, and finally, as children always did, they took turns in making up new dances from what they had learned, until their laughter nearly drowned out the music soaring out from the edge of the Dais.

But all good things came to an end, and eventually the children began to droop with exhaustion and the party wound down. They fit in one last circle dance—a bit too slow for the song the Players were performing to end the encore show, but easier on tired feet wanting to shuffle rather than skip—and finished to the applause of parents and guardians come to take their charges home. They dispersed to all corners of the Firmaments, though most headed south into the New Nest; Noalle passed out almost as soon as her father picked her up, her cheek pillowed on his scaly green shoulder, and Marcelloix and Audaine fell into easy conversation with Rasequin, Gontrandoix, and Pehainel for the trek home while Lycelle, Julchiezain, and Peyraquile helped herd their fellow orphans along, with the older children each carrying one of the smaller ones piggyback. Ehll Tou crouched down to help Hautdilong onto her back, and they—and Ahm Sorn and the other dragonets—waved goodbye before winging off into the night for the sanctuary of Ehll Tou’s workshop roost.

Synnove and Aymeric collected the twins from Heron, off to the Forgotten Knight with Alakhai, and they meandered arm-in-arm up Quill’s Trace while Roksana and Amandina dozed in the crook of Synnove’s opposite arm. When they reached Bright Ballad’s Passage, without saying anything, they simultaneously turned to look out over the Firmament.

The district glowed with golden light, a mirror to the river of stars spangling the black velvet of the sky above. The soft blue glimmer of the new aetheryte system provided spots of color among the shadows, and the faint shapes of people passing in front of windows could be spotted in the houses closest to the Passage. And even with midnight nearing, the Mendicant’s Court still bustled with the night owls of the skybuilder corps, hard at work crafting goods for the residents of the Firmament or lifting off in manacutters from the Skysteel Workshop for the Diadem.

Sighing quietly, a sense of pride and satisfaction settling in her chest, Synnove leaned her head against Aymeric’s shoulder. Her knight kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair, moving his arm to wrap around her waist and squeeze tightly.

“Even seeing it,” Aymeric said, voice hushed and reverent, “it’s difficult to believe the work is finished. The repairs to the Brume and Foundation are still ongoing, of course, but knowing so many of my countrymen no longer need to worry about where to sleep at night…”

“It’s difficult to fathom the hopes for one’s home coming to fruition within your own lifetime,” Synnove replied, leaning into him. “I never thought I’d see Ala Mhigo free. I never thought a cure for tempering would be found. But here we are: griffon flags fly in Ala Mhigo; capture by a primal is no longer a death sentence; and Ishgard stands at peace and ready to do whatever is necessary to take care of her people.”

Her knight sighed, as satisfied sounding as she felt. “Our star is far from perfect, and its people less so,” he said. “But by Halone, it’s wonderful to see them try, and succeed.”

Synnove hummed her agreement and together, they turned, the Firmament at their backs, and wandered home.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ishgard restoration #ishgardian restoration #oc: synnove greywolfe #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #ehll tou #hautdilong #dt's writing #IT DONE

[wolf-zer0]

Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????

Have some world-building!

*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people.  I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors.  Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!

The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)

Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana 

Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra 

Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort 

Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos 

Attack at your own peril 

Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after 

The only known food export is potatoes.  Wonder why… 

Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure

Notable Members:

Philza Minecraft:

Angel

Visible wings look like a harpy eagle

Probably the most powerful person in the world

Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened

Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off

Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary

Technoblade: 

Is pig.  

With braid.  

At least 8 feet all

Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.  

Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince

Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity

Wilbur Soot: 

Muse who can influence people through song

Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction

The public face of the imperial family

Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to

Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)

Tommy Innit: 

Child.  

Chaos incarnate.

Is he human?  Is he not?  No one’s sure yet.  

But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.  

Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.  

The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)

Oldest of the countries 

Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent 

Home of the Fae Courts

Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years 

Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war 

Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana 

Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids 

Notable Members: 

Dream: 

Current king of the Fae

As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is

Can terraform

Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom

Much more limited outside of his realm

No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne

Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights

Never says what happens to the losers

Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade

He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.  

A little competition is healthy.

Sapnap:  

High Lord of the Summer Court

Dream’s right hand man

Likes fire a little too much probably

George: 

Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world

Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.  

Skeppy: 

Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body

Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH

Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly.  Not totally safe, just less deadly.

Badboyhalo: 

Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice

Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history

Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed

The Merchant’s Guild

Not quite a country, more of a international power 

Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world 

Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake 

Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups 

From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional

The main members are just… a lot. 

More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it) 

The most valuable thing they trade in is information

They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information 

Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper

Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word

Notable Members:

Schlatt: 

Ram-man with a plan

Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state

Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic

Trying his best

Can be a snarky asshole sometimes

Quackity: 

Lucky duck.  literally.  

Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself

No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there

Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor

Fundy: 

FOX!  

With BEANS!

Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult

Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc. 

Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.  

(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)

Puffy: 

Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada

Schlatt’s sister

Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them 

Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.

Storm’s Landing

Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers

Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral 

Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because: 

1) Clingy supremacy!!!!

2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power

3) all the dads for Tubbo

Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass 

Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???) 

Notable Members:

CaptainSparklez: 

elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage 

(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)

not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay

still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.  

Niki:

If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably

Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town

Could probably end wars with her croissants

Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times

Eret: 

Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.  

Having a bad mental health day?  

He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.  

Dysphoric?  

She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.  

Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?  

They’ve got it.  

Ranboo:  

Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave

Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost

Tubbo: 

This boi!  Has so many dads!  

Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”  

While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower

He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)

He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.  

When they meet up, look out.  Something’s getting destroyed.

The Astral Academy

An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering 

Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess 

People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student 

There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is 

Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success

Notable Members: 

Sam

Purpled

Ponk

Punz

Antfrost

Jack Manifold

I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!

Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven

Smallest and newest country 

Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)

Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range 

Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them 

Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods 

Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter 

Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance 

Notable Members:

Tyr: 

Lord of the North Haven

trying to keep his people safe and protected

one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)

Spirit of Justice

lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence

didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it

Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best

Bragi: 

Heir Apparent

24 year old human

can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses

has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)

has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur

Freya: 

Spymaster

actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country

age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)

has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses

chronic insomniac

Forseti: 

Official Librarian

20 years old

hybrid with an unknown entity

has black fingers with sharp claws

always wears gloves to hide them

can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)

knowledge sponge

wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply

Odin: 

Older Twin

The “Sensible One”

17 years old

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Can’t get lost no matter what

Can manipulate magnetic fields

Loki:

Younger Twin

The “Hot Headed One”

17 years old

can manipulate fire

idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya

The Institute

Creeping around in the background

Up to bad things

Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet

They will though… soon

Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors

#whoo boy #that got long #can you tell i have a creative writing degree #fsis au #find steel in silver au #mcyt au #mcyt #dream smp #antarctic empire #philza #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #sapnap #georgenotfound #skeppy #badboyhalo #jschatt #quackity #fundy #captain puffy #captainsparklez #nihachu #eret mcyt #ranboo #tubbo #i tried to tag everyone but it cut me off #if u have ideas/questions hit me up!

[waiting4inspiration]

Hefna IX: Dedon

Summary: You and Estadir reach Kattegat with Ivar who hosts a feast to introduce your tribe to his people. During the feast, Dedon speaks through Estadir and calls for a specific ritual to be done before the war starts.

Warnings: unrequited love (reader and Ivar), small angst, fluff, mentions of war, strong language, religion difference, magical moments

Word Count: 2,703

Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

The plan is set. Ivar would ride into Kattegat first, tell his people that the oncoming horde of men and women would mean them no harm, and explain to his brothers why he disappeared and that this tribe is an army to help in the war against Vidar. 

Estadir waits for the signal, the sound of a horn that tells him that he and his men can enter the city. In the meantime, the tribe sets up camp and you’re the one overseeing that things go well with that. You know Estadir has other things on his mind, so you don’t want him to try and think about making sure the family is safe and settling in. It won’t lead to anything good. 

When everything is done, everyone is settled in and all the tents are pitched, you find Estadir staring at the city of Kattegat. You wrap your arms around his body and press your face against his back, making him sigh and place a hand over yours as a smile grows on your face. 

“What is taking him so long? We should have been called by now,” he grumbles. You shake your head at his impatience and move around to stand in front of him. “How can we be sure that he is not planning an attack on us?”

“Do you really think he would do something like that?” you ask back, your question makes his head drop so he can look at you and he raises an eyebrow that counters your question. “You need to learn to trust him in this time, Estadir. We’re going into a war and you do not trust someone who is meant to be your companion and friend. That is dangerous,” you mention, reaching up to touch the side of his face. 

He breathes out a sigh and leans into your touch as his hands move to rest on your hips. “You know why I do not trust him. You know I fear he will try and take you from me-”

“And you know that I am not going anywhere. Where you go, I go, right?” you remind, making him smile and lean down to press his forehead to yours. 

Raising a hand, Estadir cups your cheek as his arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer. “Right,” he mutters, strokes the top of your cheek with his thumb, and then presses his lips to yours. 

At that moment, you both hear the horn you’ve been waiting for. But Estadir doesn’t move. He just keeps kissing you, making you giggle and push your hand against his chest. He pulls out of the kiss with a smirk on his face as he grabs your hand on his chest. “Ride with me,” he whispers, and you don’t think twice about nodding. 

He leads you to his horse, keeping his eyes on you for most of the way, and it makes you remember the first time you two went for a ride together on his horse. It was when you two were teenagers. He was already the voice of Dedon but you weren’t yet that of Verheia. He took you to a nearby waterfall and he told you stories about the Gods, making you smile and laugh as he tried to show himself off to you. But you were already his, he just didn’t know that back then. 

Estadir mounts his horse, a black stallion, and holds out his hand to help you up behind him. You take his hand, feeling as giddy as you did when you were a teenager. And with a strong pull, you sit behind the muscular man with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

He gives a loud shout before urging his horse forward, a sign for those that wish to come with him and you to Kattegat to leave with him now. 

Kattegat is unlike any other city you’ve ever seen. The people are somewhat lively, the marketplace is full of different things from across the seas. It is unlike any other trading post you have seen before. 

Estadir rides to the Great Hall, one similar to that in Nork where you found your father’s corpse before Virheia burnt it down. As he rides, he ignores the way the crowds stare at his people. They are always stared at when coming into cities and towns to trade, so it is nothing new to them. 

People barely see you behind the giant man and only get a good look at your face when Estadir dismounts his horse. He turns to hold his hand out for you as you dismount his horse, pulls you close to him before walking with you up the steps of the Great Hall. 

You can hear a feast going on inside the hall, no doubt to celebrate the return of the King of Kattegat as well as the start of the war they hope to end. But the moment Estadir pushes the doors open, the noise dies down and everyone turns their attention to the nomadic man that walks in. 

They’re used to having people in their families be tall, but Estadir makes them think of the Saxons liking them to giants. If they could compare this nomadic man to one of their own, they’d choose Bjorn Ironside. But even then there are some differences. 

Estadir has his eyes fixed on the only man he knows in the room, Ivar, and his steps towards him never falter. There are three other men that stand with Ivar, men that Estadir knows are his brothers. But he still doesn’t like the way they look at you. 

“Brothers, this is Estadir, the leader of the tribe that will help us win this war,” Ivar introduces as Estadir comes to stand before the three brothers. “And (Y/n).”

The way Estadir snakes his arm around your waist and slightly pulls you closer is something Ubbe notices and he glances to Ivar. You are the woman he told him, Hvitserk, and Sigurd about, but Ubbe can tell that he forgot to mention that you belong to another man. The leader, of all men. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” you speak, your voice truly being as melodic as Ivar said it is and it makes Hvitserk smile. 

Ivar smiles too and announces to the rest of the room to carry on with the feast and the celebration. “We should be planning a war, not having a celebration because of the King’s return,” Estadir says to you, but the brothers hear the foreign language. 

It was something else Ivar told them about, but hearing it now is as strange as he said it is. “It is a celebration in good faith, Estadir. It would be rude of us to demand that it end. We are guests, after all,” you whisper, surprising the brothers that you speak their language with no accent just as you speak this foreign language with no accent. 

Estadir chuckles as he glances around the room at the drinking men and women and their cheering, dancing, and the music that is played in the corner of the room. He shakes his head and glances back down at you. “They call this a celebration? This is what we do every night,” he chuckles.

You laugh, take two cups from the table beside you and hand one to him. “I’ve told you that these people are not as wild as we are,” you whisper to him and then turn to the four men who have reached for their own cups. “Skol,” you say with a smile, tilting your cup to them before taking a sip from your cup and sharing in a drink with them.

Like every night, you spend most of the time with Estadir, following him around and staying either close to a fire or with members of the tribe. And because you know, more or less, how these feasts go, you know when to stop your family members from going too far. 

Ivar, like always, watches you from across the room with a small smile on his face. He’s come to realize that you are most beautiful in a firelight. And when you seem to become more comfortable around his people, starting to dance to the music with some of the other people, he notices Estadir relaxing too. 

Ubbe sits down beside Ivar, follows his gaze and finds that he’s staring at you, watching you dance. “She is everything you explained her to be, Ivar,” he mentions, making his little brother turn to look at him. Hvitserk catches the beginning of the conversation and turns his head to listen too. “It is too bad she belongs to this Estadir,” he states, looking out to Estadir who stands almost like a statue as you try to get him to join you. 

Hvitserk’s face drops and he shifts closer. “She is married to him?”

“Not yet,” Ivar sneers, slightly turning his head to Hvitserk before looking back to Ubbe. “She is not yet married to him.”

Shaking his head, Ubbe leans back and breathes out a long sigh. “Please do not tell me you are trying to steal her from him,” he mutters, looking back at Ivar only to find a guilty look on his face. “Ivar-”

“She is Earl Verra’s daughter. She comes from Nork. She used to believe in our Gods, Ubbe, before she found this tribe,” Ivar snaps, gesturing to you and Estadir. “She is not some nomadic woman. She is a Viking and she belongs with people like her.”

“She is with people like her, Ivar,” Ubbe fights back, making Ivar roll his eyes and lean back in his seat. “When Nork was destroyed, she would have been a child. So, she grew up with this tribe and they became her people. Her family. She belongs with them and with him,” he tries to reason, but he knows that it is like talking to a wall. 

Hvitserk nods his head and gives an agreeing hum. “What about her?” Ivar looks over at Hvitserk and follows to where he points. Alke. “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you all night,” Hvitserk mentions with a small chuckle as he takes a sip from his drink. 

Alke blushes when Ivar’s eyes meet hers and she turns her face to the side. 

All that Ivar does is shrug his shoulders and glance down at the cup of mead in his hands. “She is the healer of the tribe and saw to my wounds,” he mumbles, brings the cup to his lips and takes a deep sip. “That is all she is.”

Ubbe glances to Hvitserk who shrugs and shakes his head. But before they can say anything else, you come practically bouncing over to them to get a refill of your cup. 

You laugh as you look up to the brothers. “Your people are amazing,” you breathe, pouring some ale into your cup as you take a seat beside Ubbe, who glances to Ivar with a smirk on his face. 

“I understand you were born in Nork and that your father was Earl Verra,” Ubbe states, your head turning to him and you give a small smile and nod your head. “Do you remember much of your life before joining this tribe?”

It’s almost like when Ivar first came and had many questions. It makes you place your cup down and straighten your back as you take in a deep breath. “I remember some of my life there. But it is not enough to make me regret choosing to stay with my family or make me change my mind,” you speak, knowing precisely where this is going. “I wouldn’t insult your family, please do not insult mine,” you warn, seeing how Hvitserk glances out to your tribesmen at a loud sound. 

Hearing your name being called from across the room, your head snaps to the side towards the sound. And when you spot Estadir fallen on the ground, you quickly push yourself to your feet and rush across the room. You know he’s not drunk because he barely had much to drink. 

And there’s a presence in the room that makes your skin tingle. 

Ivar pushes himself up to follow you, curious to see what is going on. And when he reaches where you are, he finds you kneeling beside Estadir, your hand reaching out to touch him before you quickly pull it away from him when he starts to mutter to himself. 

“Dedon,” a man whispers, and it makes everyone from your tribe that is in the hall to fall to their knees in a bow. 

Ivar, Ubbe, and Hvitserk glance around at the kneeling nomadic people and the two older brothers look to Ivar for answers. He was the one to spend so much time with them. “Dedon is their ‘father God’. Like Odin,” he whispers to them, still staring down at Estadir as he realizes what might be happening. “He is the God’s voice.”

You bite your lip, waiting for Estadir to come back to you, praying that this is not a deep connection because you know he hates when those happen when he is not in the privacy of his own tent. 

Thankfully, it’s only a few seconds until his eyes snap open and he glances at you. “What are you staring at?” he questions, making you laugh and lean forward to press your lips to him. 

It wasn’t anything big. Dedon must have just spoken to him or gave him a vision, things Estadir is very used to and he’s back on his feet when you pull away from him. You lead him away from the crowd, or rather, he pulls you away from the crowd, wanting to tell you what happened. And as you leave, Ubbe and Hvitserk look at Ivar, unsure of what happened. 

Ivar sighs, knowing that he’ll have to explain this to them now when he was hoping to avoid that.

Outside the hall, Estadir makes sure you two are alone and checks around him again before he takes your hands in his and breathes out a sigh. You can’t deny that you’re a bit scared of what Dedon said to him. “Dedon showed me what will happen in this battle,” Estadir begins, turns his head down to you as he takes a small step forward. “Innocent lives will be lost.” 

That’s all you really have to be told to know what it means. To know what needs to be done. “The Gods have asked for Skapanir,” you whisper, earning a nod from Estadir. You sigh, glance down at your hands in his and bite your lip. “We will ask who in the family will-”

“We have to do it,” he cuts you off, making your head snap up to him again. “The Gods have asked for us to do it. It is a war you and I have decided to join. We shouldn’t ask someone else to do this offering,” he mentions, and you agree with him. “If you are not ready, we can turn back, go to Holar,” he says. 

But you shake your head and reach up to touch the side of his face. He places his hand over yours and kisses the inside of your hand. “It is a blessing to be asked by the Gods to do this, Estadir. And to do it with you, it is more than I could ever ask for,” you whisper, your fingers caressing his cheek as you step closer to him. “I accept it.”

He chuckles, places his hand on either side of your face and leans down to press his forehead to yours. “I accept it too.”

It will be done the night before the war starts, a small ritual that will determine more than whether or not you win this war. It will determine your life with Estadir, the life of your family and the life of your tribe. 

Both you and Estadir are willing and that’s all that matters. That is all the Gods need to set things in order. And while you, Estadir, Ivar and his brothers plan this war, the Gods will plan your destiny. 

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#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #King Ivar #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #vikings #vikings fanfic #hefna

[mrsluttystark]

Repeat After Me

Tony was growing tired of his life, the never ending routine he’d tied himself down to.  Even with a fiancee, a stable job, and a comfortable life, there was hardly a time where he didn’t think about the past to escape the present.  He could never have guessed a simple friend request and a pretty Peter Parker would be his undoing as well as his sanctuary. 18+

Part 1 | Part 2

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter hadn’t been on Facebook in years...technically.  Maybe every so often just to update his profile picture so people knew he didn’t still look like a 15 year old with a face riddled with baby fat.  Sure, he could just delete his account, but he’ll admit he likes knowing what his high school classmates are up to.  It was interesting to see how some people he’s known since elementary school turned out now that they were all college graduates.  He’s never interacted in those times, just lurked and scrolled for a few minutes before he came across a corny meme or a factually incorrect post that looks like it was screenshotted a million times and had to exit.

He was extra bored tonight, though.  Peter tried not to think about how quiet it was now that he lived in his own apartment.  Aunt May had moved in with her boyfriend after Peter graduated and landed a job at Oscorp. It came with a starting bonus and a large paycheck that allowed Peter to live comfortably on his own while he worked in the R & D department. A compromise made with Norman Osborn instead of selling him the rights to the web fluid he created in college.  Peter wanted to continue to develop it front and center; find every possible application for it. So much so, that he didn’t get to go out much. Ned was in DC at his NASA internship, living out his “guy in a chair” dreams.  MJ was somewhere in Asia, backpacking with her girlfriend.  The friends he made at Columbia went their separate ways.

So this was his life now. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Alone.

After getting home from work around 6 pm, Peter went for an hour long run, ate dinner, and showered.  8 pm found him sitting on his living room sofa, flipping aimlessly between different streaming services unable to find anything interesting to watch.  He went through Instagram, Twitter, and even Tumblr a few times before the last “you’re all caught up!” notification popped up on his phone. So, with a heavy sigh, he propped two pillows against the wall for him to lean on, flopped down on his bed, and opened Facebook.

The first post Peter saw was a life event update from Flash Thompson, his high school nuisance, (“bully” would be giving him too much credit) “In a Relationship with Brad Davis”. Peter huffed out a breath, not really surprised with how much Flash used to tease him about being openly bisexual. Penis Parker. How original.

A memory appeared at the top of his feed from 7 years ago, today.  It was a picture of him and Ned when they finished building his Lego Death Star.  Peter smiled at that, Ned was holding it above his head with a beaming smile plastered on his face.  His younger self had both scrawny arms thrown in the air looking triumphant as ever, curls unruly, and rectangular metal glasses falling halfway down his nose.

Peter was glad he filled out a bit since he was 15 and traded in wearing glasses daily for contacts.  His curls were still nice and floppy, the tips of them tickling his ears, but he liked it that way.  Plus, he could tame them when he wanted to.

He scrolled for a while longer, watched a few videos of cats being adorable assholes and one-pot recipes, went on Marketplace to see what people in his area were selling.  He even went through his old pictures and deleted the incredibly embarrassing ones, and updated his profile picture to his most recent selfie.  

This Facebook arc was coming to a quick end, he could feel the boredom seeping back in. He looked to his right, the bright red digital numbers on his clock read 10:05 pm. Good enough.  He can turn in for the night without feeling inept.

Thumb poised, ready to swipe the App closed, his eyes caught on a name in the “People You May Know” section.  Tony Stark. As in, Mr. Stark, his Sophomore Chemistry teacher. AKA his most inappropriate high school crush.  Despite being alone, Peter could feel the tips of his ears heat up.

Wow, he hadn’t thought of Mr. Stark in years.

Alright, that’s not true.  Peter thinks about him every time he wonders why he has an affinity for older men. Besides the point, he’s taken back to Midtown, sitting front row, head balanced on his palm watching dreamily as Mr. Stark explained how atoms and molecules join together through ionic and covalent bonding (which Peter already knew, so it was fine that he was zoning out).  The man’s voice was like honey, words oozing smooth and sweet, rumbling deeply in his chest.  Peter remembers every time he caught his eye while he scanned the room during lectures.  Mr. Stark was 30 then, it was his first year teaching, and a 15 year age gap seemed like a canyon.  

Peter tapped on his name to go to his profile so he can get a better look at his picture. His heart was racing, despite a few sporadic grey hairs at his temples, some crows feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and deeper smile lines, he looked the absolute same.  Fucking hot. If anything, all those things made him look even sexier.  Licking his lips, Peter tried to go through his profile to see more photos of the man, unfortunately he had a lot of his privacy settings on so there wasn’t much to see but his last profile picture update and location.  He still lived in New York, so that was a plus, but Peter wanted - needed to see more.

His thumb hovered over the Add Friend button.  It wouldn’t be weird, would it? He was Facebook friends with other teachers from Midtown.  He graduated over four years ago, and he wasn’t a lovesick kid with a school boy crush anymore.  Fuck it, right? The worst he can do is deny the friend request.

Tap.

“Add Friend” turned into “Cancel Request”, and Peter blew out a large breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Alright, Peter.  Time to turn in. He said to himself as he threw his phone onto his bed and got up to brush his teeth.  No use waiting around, he wasn’t going to accept it tonight or any time soon for that matter.  When he got back from the bathroom, he didn’t even bother looking at his phone.  He plugged it in, placed it face down on his nightstand, and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the man’s phone lit up with a Facebook notification, unbeknownst to a slumbering Peter Parker.

-

Tony’s daily routine had been rather monotonous lately, to say the least.  Since he’d made his way up the proverbial ladder of life and moved on from being a teacher to becoming a senior engineer at a major tech conglomerate, you’d think his day-to-day life of overseeing technical advancement projects wouldn’t be so boring.

The paycheck was substantially bigger than when he was a high school teacher and the amount of technology he had access to was more than the idle body walking the street could ever dream of, but…he missed teaching.  He missed the kids.  The pure unadulterated joy they displayed whenever Tony praised them on their science projects.  He watched over brilliant men and women every day but nothing compared to the ambition of those kids.  

Tony often found himself dreading going to work each day, and coming home to an empty house and take-out food his fiancée left for him that night.

Pepper was a great woman.  Fierce and reliable.  She was there when Tony’s parents died.  She even stuck through all the years of Tony trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. So, naturally, Tony proposed to her when he graduated from college. As a “thank you” and as a promise.  That once he had enough money he would make an honest woman out of her.  Of course, she already was an honest woman.   It was Tony who needed the support, she was all he had left besides Rhodey, but he decided to join the Air Force and shipped off right after graduation.  Tony sees him every couple of months, if even that.

She has had all these years to focus on her own career as well while Tony worked menial jobs and then became a teacher.  When Tony finally got the Mechanical Engineer job, she was so relieved to not have to be the only one taking care of the bills.  Though she never said it, Tony knew. Pepper is the head of HR at Oscorp as well as Norman Osborn’s personal assistant.  Operating at the same routine for seven years now and she doesn’t seem to be bored, but that’s Pepper - reliable.

It’s been nine years since Tony asked her to marry him, and he’s been financially capable of paying for an adequate wedding for two of them.  The truth is, Pepper has become a part of the monotony that Tony is so tired of.

Tony opened the door to their apartment, the main hall light illuminating the dark wood flooring and the entry table he tossed his keys down on. Toeing off his shoes, he could already smell the Thai food Pepper had eaten and left for him.  He flipped the lights on and made his way to the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons in the process.  Rounding the large white marble island at the center, Tony reached into the bottom cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured himself a finger before throwing the left-overs in the microwave to heat up.  

A little white card with Pepper’s uniform handwriting sat on the table next to the take-out bag: Emergency at work. Don’t wait up. Love you, Pep x.  Tony took a sip of his drink, unaffected, it’s been happening more as of late with Oscorp’s new launch around the corner.

“JARVIS, could ya turn on the TV for me? Oh, and heat up my food.” Tony spoke into the open space.  He’d been working on his own Artificial Intelligence software in his spare time and recently implemented it-him into their apartment’s security and electrical.  Pepper was wary at first, seeing Tony put up cameras in every single room. Even the bathroom, Tony?  He assured her that it was unhackable, bet it on his life.

“Certainly, sir.”  A disembodied british voice replied.  Sure enough, the TV powered on and the microwave came to life.  

“Thanks, J.”  Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself.  He’d been drawing up the specs for JARVIS since he was in high school, now he finally had the means to develop him.

When the microwave turned off, Tony gathered up his plate and went to sit on the black leather sectional in the living room.  Shoveling a mouth full of pad thai with his chopsticks, he kicked up his feet to rest them on the ottoman in front of him. He very well knows he could just pull out his phone and look, but he wanted to give JARVIS a little workout.

“Got anything new for me?”

“An email from Mr. Justin Hammer about a job offer, would you like me to read it aloud to you, sir?” Tony waved his hand dismissively with a sour expression.  Justin Hammer, a sad excuse for a tech mogul, cutting corners for a bigger pay off.

“Delete it, will ya?”

As Tony scrapes the rest of his plate clean, he rises off the couch and stretches his arms and body.  The pain in his lower back calls for a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles.  Earlier today he’d been bent over his lab table working on an advanced prosthesis that can form to any amputee with ease and give them full range of motion like it was theirs, not just a placeholder.  He was grateful his employer seemed to actually care about the greater good.

Tony went to pour himself another finger before retreating to the bedroom to take that shower his body was craving.  He undressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror opposite the foot of his California King bed. The tie went first, falling lightly to the carpeted floor.  He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket along with his slacks.  Olive skin pulled taut against the small yet defined muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms littered with various burns and scars from working with robotics and chemicals.  

Tony definitely wasn’t 21 anymore but he knew he looked good for 37. He could only thank his genes for that and the still full head of hair despite his greying temples that he never bothered to dye.

“JARVIS, shower?” He heard the water splash against the tile of the shower floor and waited until he could see the steam bellow out into the hall to down the rest of his glass and make his way to the bathroom.

The hot spray connecting with his cool skin made him jump a little until he got used to the heat enough to relax.  The buzz he was feeling from the scotch aiding the water in loosening his muscles.  After washing his hair, Tony decided to stand beneath the spray for a while longer, reveling in the gentle caress of the water.

He then grabbed his mesh loofah ball, poured some body wash on it, and started scrubbing his body.  Washing away the trials and tribulations of the day, along with some oil and grease.  He worked over his arms, chest, and back.  Bent over to wash his legs and feet, then dragged the loofah over his ass and stomach before he lightly grazed his cock, making it twitch in response.

God, he was so wound up, he and Pepper hadn’t had sex in over two months.  Always so busy, always just missing each other.  When they did happen to be home at the same time, they were too tired to do anything.

He wrapped a soapy hand around his shaft and stroked lazily to work himself to full hardness, which didn’t take very long.  Tony tried thinking about Pepper but he couldn’t quite imagine her face and her body, the scotch must be making his mind hazy.  He chuckled softly at the thought, not even believing it himself.

Searching through his brain for something to get him there, Tony grunted in annoyance that nothing was coming to him.  

He thought harder, until a body started to form in his mind.  Smooth pale skin over a lithe, hard body.  The V at the bottom of the abdomen pointing to a skinny dick with a pretty pink head.  Tony had a fondness toward pretty twinks in college, the one he was imagining mirrored the ones he fucked before he met Pepper.

His hand began stroking faster as his thoughts got more detailed.  In his mind, he stretched the young man open with his fingers before seating his newly opened hole on Tony’s larger, thicker cock.  He braced himself with one arm against the shower wall while his other hand tightened around his shaft.  Hunched over, eyes closed, he saw a pert little ass bouncing up and down, swallowing every inch of him.  He moaned loudly, keenly aware that he was home alone, imagining high whimpers and whines thrumming in his ears as the boy in his mind came.  Tony came in spurts down the drain soon after with a choked off groan.

Rinsing himself again, he got out of the shower, quickly toweled off his body and hair before wrapping it around his waist and making his way out into the bedroom once again.  His body definitely felt looser than it had been when he arrived home from work.  Pulling out another of the same bottle of scotch from the small bar cart he had in his room, he poured himself another drink.

“Have a good shower, sir?”  If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d think JARVIS was taunting him.

Tony scowled and raised an eyebrow at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember programming you to be nosy.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, sir. You designed me to do exactly that.”

“Or to give me lip.” No response.

“You did receive a new notification in your absence.  Would you like to know what it is?” He took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, sure.”

“You received a Facebook friend request from a Mr. Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker? Why did that seem familiar?

“Throw it up on the screen for me, J.”  The flatscreen lit up, displaying Peter’s profile.

The first thing Tony noticed was the sharp, angular jawline coupled with high cheekbones.  A stark contrast to the delicate chestnut curls pushed back into a nice cowlick wave.  His smile was bright, pure, and genuine, like the photo had been snapped right as he finished laughing.

It wasn’t until Tony looked at his eyes did he realize who this was.  The soft brown eyes were identical to a lanky teenage boy that sat in the front row of his Chemistry class when he taught at Midtown High.  Even behind his wiry glasses back then, Tony could tell that his eyes radiated a wholesome energy - just like they did now.  That had been...what? Seven years ago?  Peter was one of his most brilliant students.  Hardly paid attention in class but knew the material like the back of his hand.

Tony almost felt guilty about finding him attractive. Almost.

He accepted the request without another thought.  Peter would be 22 by now, nothing weird about that, right?  He scrolled through his basic info.  Still lives in New York.  Graduated from Columbia.  Single.  Interested in men and women.  He doesn’t ever really post anything, then again neither did Tony.  The only things on his page were happy birthday posts and tagged photos from his Aunt May.  Tony remembered parent/teacher conferences with her, he guessed being smokin’ hot ran in the family.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about potentially lusting over this kid.  He’d always been faithful to Pepper, but something was missing.  Tony craved excitement and some inkling of control over his life.  Besides, he could look, as long as he didn’t touch.  This is just a Facebook friendship after all.

He pulled the Facebook app up on his phone and tapped on the “Message” icon.  When the screen pulled up the chat box, Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch, feeling just on the right side of drunk, and typed out two words.

Hey, Kid.

-

tags: @sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @problemchildnoonewanted (I’ll def be implementing some of your points in future chapters!)

#starker #starker fic #starker au #teacher/student #tony stark x peter parker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #ironspider #sluttystark stuff

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO “Evidence.”

Still working on the trial arc, and sorry I am late in posting. I had to go to work at seven and am trying to write in between helping guests. 

CREDIT and a THANK YOU to one of my amazing discord community members Eddi, who has been working for the last few months on the audio visual and transcript logs seen here. I did not write them, Eddi wrote them an was kind enough to let me use them in this story. I loved it and thought it brought a lot of authenticity to the story by bringing in an outside voice. 

WARNING: GRAPHIC blood, gore, and bodily mutilation. The Steel eye project development is VERY horrible, so don’t read if that is something that bothers you. 

It was a beautiful day.

The sky was a bright eggshell blue stratified with only the occasional cirrus cloud highlighting the sky with a touch of distant white. The sun was bright though the temperature was moderate only in the mid eighties.

Swimmers could be seen as distant pinpoints of light and froth on the surface of lake Geneva. Voices echoed up from the city coerced mostly by the purring of hover-car engines.

Towering white buildings rose high into the sky adding height instead of width to a city that had not grown outside its own borders for the past thousand years other than to go up.

Itw as a more environmentally efficient way to build, and left the countryside untouched by the scars of infrastructure and humanity.

Adam stared out the window for a long moment wishing for the peaceful embrace of the skies and the roaring of a jet engine. A soft whimper at his leg, and he looked down to see Waffles sitting at his heel, her head tilted back to look up at him. WHen he didn’t immediately respond to her she whined again and scooted closer, her paws making soft clicking sounds on the wood flooring below.

Finally he reached down and scratched her behind the ears.

She could sense his agitation, and it was clear that she didn’t much like it.

He couldn’t blame her.

He didn’t like it either. He sighed and turned his head away from the do and he window, back to the mirror in front of which he now stood. He didn’t see himself.

The man in the mirror was tall, straight backed with sharply trimmed and styled hair, jaw squared and raised. Both eyes were green though one expanded and contracted like the appriture of a camera. The expression on the man’s face was stern and unyielding.

He looked…. Like his father.

He had never seen much of a resemblance between them, but now he could certainly see it.

It didn’t help that the stars on his uniform seemed to add an extra ten years to his age.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his captain’s cap down snuggly onto his head and whistled low for his dog.

She fell into a perfect heel at his side, and he clipped the leash onto her colla.

Her black service vest was strapped on tight with a pair of doggie saddlebags on either side carrying water bottles. Waffles always liked having a job to do, and a little extra work would help to keep her relaxed during the trial rather than antsy.

She was going to have to stay very still for a very long time for the next few days.

“Ready girl.”

Her tail thumped against the floor at his voice.

“At least that makes one of us.”

He transferred her elash to his left end, though he didn’t technically need it, and led her out of the bedroom and into the large living room. It was a lot of hotel room for just one man. He would have been fine enough with a double queen personally, but he supposed if the UNSC was paying there was no reason to argue otherwise.

It felt strange, going to a hotel on the UNSC’s Dime to testify against the UNSC in one of the biggest trials of the century.

His stomach churned.

Waffles nosed his hand.

Dr Krill floated down from his examination of the chandelier, “I admire human artistry, but pragmatism is still my preferred way of living.” he motioned around the room, “A bit opulent.”

Adam nodded his agreement, “You can say that again. I haven’t slept on a bed that big in my life.” In all honesty, he was trying to keep his mind off of what was to come. He didn’t really care about the bed and certainly didn’t know if he had ever slept in a bed that large.

He sort of doubted it, he was in the UNSC after all.

A knock came on the door and he turned reaching for the handle and pulling it open. The driver from yesterday was waiting for him, his suit pristine. He bowed slightly, “The car is waiting for you, sir.”

He nodded, and motioned the other man to lead the way.

The man nodded and thanked him, stepping down the hall and leading them down into the lobby. They got a lot of looks as they made their way down, most likely because of krill, though his uniform might have caught some attention.

He was led out towards the car and slid into the back seat, suddenly surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.

“Admiral Kelly!”

“Good morning, Adam.”

“What are you doing here.”

“I am here to witness the trial. UNSC representatives thought it would be best if some of the newer brass came to oversee proceedings.”

He quickly looked out the window, suddenly remembering which side of the conflict this was on.

A hand rested on his arm, “I’m not here to make you feel bad about your decision, Admiral. You’re doing what needs to be done.”

He sighed and nodded, “I… thank you ma’am.”

“You sure this is something you are ready for.”

He paused and then shook his head, “No… I’m not ready, and I never will be.” She went to open her mouth but he stopped her, “But I’m the only one we have, so I will do what it takes.”

The car went silent as it slowly accelerated into the early morning traffic.

It was going to be a very long day.

Admiral Kelly turned to look at Krill speaking with him quietly while Adam looked out the window.

He wasn’t in the mood for talking right now though he knew how odd that was.

His stomach continued to churn as they drove through the streets heading towards the outskirts of the city where the Geneva court had been built just over 200 years ago.

The last buildings on the outskirts of town  went by and their first view of the court appeared in the car window. It was made in the classic greco-roman style with large white pillars and sloped rooftop and carvings on the top that depicted all the deities of justice ever conceived by historial religion, all cast and depicted in marble.

The thoroughfare up to the building was long and wide with a decorative reflecting pool at the center and a set of daunting steps leading up to the ornate front doors.

The grounds were meticulously kept with hedges shrub and flowering bushes, with what must have been miles and miles of water features and fountains off to the side.

It was a beautiful location, and it seemed that visitors found it a nice spot to rest while they enjoyed touring the sites.

He didn’t see much in the beauty today.

This was the UN supreme court, and the history of Geneva made this place hallowed in ways that made the court case for today all the more poignant.

The car pulled to a stop before the doors and a few gloved attendants stepped forward sharply dressed and opened the doors with almost militaristic precision as Admiral Vir and Admiral Kelly stepped out.

Waffles followed at his heels

He knew as soon as he stepped onto the marble steps that he wanted to leave, an the only thing that kept him there was the memory of those faces…. All the people counting on him back at the house, all the people who had never been given a chance to recover like he had.

He took a deep breath and ford himself up the steps and towards the front doos where a group of people were already congregating.

There were a few reporters there, without cameras, waiting to attend in the audience and record the proceedings for their news stories and daytime television. A few of them snapped discrete photos of him as he passed and was led through the wide double doors into the expansive inner hallway with a beautifully muraled ceiling and a line of decorative plants down the side.

Voices echoed inside the building, rising up around him to bounce off the marble.

The voices themselves were indistinct and difficult to understand as he made his way further into the room.

Men in suits lined the walls.

He eyed them critically wondering if any of them happened to be the defence.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he quickly turned to eye another attendant, who had evidently been trying to get his attention, “Right this way sir.”

He nodded and was led through the halls and into a nearby antichamber.

A wand was passed over his body.

“Please hold out your arm , sir.”

He did as ordered and watched as his forearm implant was temporarily deactivated. 

“The room is completely radio proof, sir. No signals go in or out. If you must make a call, I urge you to take it during the court recess.”

“Understood.”

“Please step inside and sit on the second row on the right side behind the prosecution.

He did as ordered, and stepped into another wide curving room.

It was much bigger than he would have thought, two stories high with amphitheater seats, and a massive curving desk at the front where nine Geneva court judges would be seated on their entrance.

There was no jury.

The Geneva court judges would be the jury for trial at this time.

Law practices had changed a lot since world war III but there was still some semblance of the old ways that still lingered on.

He took his seat, waffles grumbling softly as he slid onto the ground beside him.

Two people in suits followed him inside one in a dark blue suit and brown shoes, the other in pinstriped balck.

The one in blue was a woman, dressed sharply, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight you could have strummed out a tune on the hairs. She paused next to Adam and held out a hand, “Admiral Vir, we spoke over the phone.”

“Ms. Trevor.”

She nodded and motioned to the man, “And my partner Mr. Jackson. I trust you understand your purpose here today?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Jackson lifted his head, “Our case here is solid, admiral. This case isn’t about who is going to be punished for what happened, but about how long they will be punished, not to mention it is likely to set up some new legislation for the ethical creation and use of military hardware. Once we are done, something like this is unlikely to ever happen again.”

He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but he nodded and let them take their seats in the desk before him.

Waffles whimpered and prodded at his hands with her nose.

He stroked a hand over her big pointed ears.

The courtroom filled up within the next hour, and, Looking across the room, he saw a line of men and women sitting on the second row of the defence. Something about them put him on edge.

He had a feeling they were the scientists.

They were the ones who had developed the steel eye armor.

“All rise! For the honorable Geneva court judges!”

The entire room took to their feet as the nine judges filed out of a back chamber and stepped onto the floor. All of them wore traditional black robes with white collars as had been tradition for nearly thousand of years. They took their seats with a mass shuffling.

“Please be seated.”

The room shuffled back into place.

The head judge,at the center of the table leaned forward.

“On this day June 24, 4024 we open the Geneva Court case of The People VS UNSC Biomechanics Division. the court will begin by hearing opening statements from the council.”

Council for the prosecution stood, shuffling her papers once before stepping up to the lectern.

“Honorable judges and members of the court, today we are here to present evidence against a faction of the UNSC scientific division for gross ethical violations, torture, and pruposeful endangerment of human life. Evidence suggests over 29 killed, over 21 critically injured, maimed, or permanently crippled, and over 61 with lasting mental trauma. This is not counting over 50 Steel eye soldiers coerced without prior knowledge, into participation in the program, 30 of which are now deceased 15 of which have lasting mental trauma, and five that, while functional, still feel the effects today. Today we will be presenting, written documents, video recordings, and audio files from prior testing as well as first hand witnesses of both the testing and the war as well as expert witness from the scientist who read and compiled the files before trial. What was done to these men and women constitute as war crimes and their victims deserve compensation and closure for what was done to them.”

She stepped back from the podium and nodded.

The defence stood and made their way to the podium in turn, “Your honors, and members of the court, while it is true that some unfortunate incidents happened during testing and development of the steel eye project, there is ample evidence to prove that none of these men or women were coerced against their will into participation. All subjects were volunteer and duly informed before proceedings began. Furthermore, scientific ethics had not advanced far enough at the time to cover weather or not what they were doing was an ethical violation. The Defence is not asking for complete vindication for the accused, but the sum of what happens is surely less than war crimes.” 

They took their seat.

Adam wasn’t a lawyer, but he knew which opening statement he liked more. Now maybe he was biased, but certainly he felt that one presented greater amounts of evidence than the other. Of course it was up to the prosecution to show evidence that would convince the judges, beyond a reasonable doubt, that these men and women were guilty.

He listened to some more speaking, half falling asleep and assuming maybe this would be as bad as he thought it would when one of the prosecution stepped back up to the podium.

“The prosecution presents time stamped dated and logged evidence to the court for consideration. The first testing log we wish to present is from the eighteenth of October 4016 and overseen by Dr. Tato Nkosi written as log number 23.” 

Experimental Log #023:

So far we have not experimented with a human subject, All the sample tests and simulations indicate that there should be no interference with normal function nor create any feedback loops that could induce seizures. This is the first human testing that we will be doing. We have noticed that the animal testing resulted in significant irritation and irrational behavour from the subjects, We however suspect this was because they were unawares of the reason for the implantations.

The subject is unconscious for the process of implantation to prevent movement. 

-recording break-

The subject reacted violently to the implant, removing it in a highly violent manner while screaming and trying to injure any nearby scientists. We expected some level of resistance, but this indicates far more sensitivity than expected. Further testing will be required.

“The council for the prosecution wishes to present the audio/visual log.” A light flickers on as a video clip begins reeling.

Audiovisual Log Transcript:

The subject wakes suddenly, seeming to be woken by extreme pain. Screaming almost instantly and scrabbling at implant on their hand and wrist. Subject seems to be attempting to remove the implant. One of the scientists attempts to calm the subject only to be beaten by the subject who continues screaming. The scientist retreats from the subject just as the subject finally removes the test implant by ripping it from the subjects skin, tearing with it the subjects local nervous system along with large sections of the subjects musculature and ligaments. Seeming relieved at the lack of contact with the implant, the subject sinks to its knees. The subject is losing significant amount of blood, though we suspect the subject is unaware of this as large sections of the nervous system is still attached to the implant. The subject appears to be in shock as it observes its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject has resumed screaming and is now trying to get the scientists attention to fix its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject is sedated and arm treated. The recording ends here. 

Adam throws a hand up over his face feeling bile rise into his mouth at the image seared into his brain. Muscle and ligament dangling uselessly against a steel eye prototype. He felt a bit lightheaded but takes a deep breath in and out to calm his breathing. All around the room there are gasps of shock and disgust. A few people stand to leave the room unable to witness any more.”

The council steps forward, “This was the first log in a recorded series of proceeding logs with similar effects. We know in experimentation that accidents happen all the time, and we might have considered forgiveness if the experimentation had stopped here. Clearly implementation on human test subjects was not ready, as evidenced by the animal’s discomfort. Perhaps if they had stopped here, some measure of understanding might have been allowed. But they continued past this point with full knowledge that this sort of catastrophic event could happen. This test subject will never regain full use of his hand. Instead of stopping the experiment like hey should, the scientists determined that the use of painkillers was in order to make the subject operational. For this the prosecution calls expert witness Dr. Alexander Gladstone to the witness stand.”

On the bench to his side, a man stands slicking back his salt and pepper hair as he moves to sit in the witness stand and is sworn in.

“Dr. Gladstone, tell us a little of your credentials.”

“Of course, I received my PHD in Biomechanical interface and Engineering as well as an additional PHD in Mechanised robotics. I have worked as the head scientist for the UNSC testing division for nearly five years now after my predecessor quit. I helped to re-engineer this project under Iron eye as a step forward from the Steel eye project in a more controlled and ethical environment. I am also the scientists who reviewed these logs and compiled them for analysis today.”

“Thank you Dr. Now, may I ask why these scientists would have chosen to implement a drug dosage?”

“To understand why they had to do this, you must also understand the steel eye project itself. Steel eye was designed to enhance the strength, speed and durability of the wearer. We already have exo suits designed for use in factory and industrial settings, however the main issue we run into in a combat setting is that the machine responds too slow. The nodes detect electrical impulses from the muscles and then have to fire following that meaning the subject has already begun moving almost seconds in advance of the machine. Steel eye was created to integrate the machine directly into the body to intercept nerve impulses before the muscles even fire, thus making the wearer faster, and the augment making them stronger. To do this you have to make a direct interface with the nervous system. They first implemented small microfivers which would wrap themselves around the nerves in question to detect electrical signals. These were designed to cluster primarily along the spine but have additional nodes in the major muscle groups. However, direct stimulation of a nerve or nerve cluster sends signals to the brai nthat are interpreted as…. Unbelievable agony, which is likely the agitation that they were seeing in the animal test subjects. However, with a high enough drug dosage, you can mitigate these effects, or distract the brain enough to keep the wearer functional for some time.”

He sat back in his seat.

“And in iron eye, how did you get around this problem?”

“Subdermal implants that do not require direct contact with the nerve endings themselves.”

“And does Iron eye cause any significant damage to the wearer?”

“No sir, the only danger is an infection of the implants, but that is with almost any implanted medical devise.”

“The subjects have no pain.”

“A general soreness that goes away within two to three days.”

“So in my understanding it is clear that there were alternatives to their original course of action. They could have pulled back and tried to implement a way to mitigate the pain rather than mask it with drug dosages?”

“Certainly.”

“But that isn’t what they did.”

“No.”

“The prosecution presents Transcript 27 to the court for viewing.” 

Experimental log #27:

We have begun testing various drugs to suppress the pain, this test is with acetaminophen, commonly referred to as Codeine. 

As per usual the subject was implanted while unconscious and atop this it was given a high dose of codeine prior to it awaking. 

-recording break-

It appears that while the subject was capable of withstanding the pain from the implant for a longer period of time than our previous subjects However the subject clearly seemed to suffer increasing mental instability as the sensations returned, culminating in the subject violently trying to destroy the implant. Learning from prior experiments and in an attempt to reduce harm to the scientists, the subject was left alone while it was in this state and no attempt was made to aid the subject.

Adam turned his head away unable to stomach what was coming next. His hands were sweating terribly. He felt cold and weak. He had seen horrible things in war and in his time, but watching this… .watching steel eye. It was just too much.

His mouth had gone dry, and his skin was hot as if he had a fever.

The dog nosed his hand but he barely acknowledged her.

Audio-visual log transcript:

The transcript begins once the Codeine begins to wear off. 

The subject begins by itching at the area around the implant, the reaction is far less violent than the prior subjects. After several minutes of ever more irritated scratching and aggressive tugging at the implant and plaintive noises the subject began to violently bash the implant against the wall. Growing ever more violent with the abuse of the implant. This continues till the test implant is mangled and ruined with the subject pulling the mangled chunks of metal off their skin, this however seems not to alleviate the subjects pain and irritation. This is likely due to the destruction of the implant not removing the interfacing needles The subject continued to scratch and pull at its skin, the plaintive noises slowly becoming screams of pain. This action continued without interruption from the scientists till the subject had torn most of the skin of its arm and taken chunks out of its musculature, the subject finally passed out from pain or blood loss after several minutes of self mutilation. 

The room spun around him, and he took a few long, deep breaths hoping that it would stop.

He wast sure he could survive another few hours of this.

He wasn’t sure at all 

[thinkingimmensely]

Okay. IV

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: I have a sudden burst in inspiration and finally finished this chapter! Here’s to the hope this streak continues *crosses fingers*. I know it’s been forever and IDK if you guys still read this but I’m still trying my best to update as soon as I can, haha. I have also been reading fanfics again, thus a boost in creative juice.

Stay safe in these trying times everyone!

MATERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

___________________

“Are you mental? What in the world were you doing back there?” You yelled as your friend laid in the sofa nonchalantly, throwing a ball up in the air and catching it as it fell back down, as if without a care in the world. You flicked your wand at the ball and it catapulted itself to the other side of the room before Sirius could even catch it again.  “Listen to me!”

“What’s the point?” He groaned and turned his back to you.  

You flicked your wand towards him and made him roll over and fall off the couch. “That was extremely rash. Careless and impatient of you.” You scolded as your friend rubbed his back in pain. “They changed the portrait,” you informed him as you ran a hand through your hair, “that annoying Sir Cadogan, still ranting on and on about knighthood I reckon.”  

“Well, you didn’t have any other brilliant idea, did you? Besides, what were you doing there in the first place?” He finally asked. When he entered the house hours ago after his failed attempt on getting inside the Gryffindor common room, he was welcomed by darkness and a letter from Dumbledore in the counter you left. It was nearly 4AM and you just arrived a few minutes ago.

“You read the letter, didn’t you? Dumbledore invited me, plus, I wanted to see Harry.” You mumbled the last part.  

Sirius smirked and approached you as you took a seat. “Did they all have their knickers in a twist?” He asked, his voice laced with mischief, as if he was actually proud with the reckless stunt he pulled.  

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, typical Black and his love to get into different heart-stopping situations. That was where he and Remus differed- Remus was your calm, and Sirius was like a whirlwind bent on destroying everything he passed through. Speaking of Remus, you still couldn’t get your meeting off of your mind, and your heart still picked up its pace every time you thought about it even though it started off the wrong foot.  

You kind of felt guilty with lying, even though what you said wasn’t technically a lie. Kind of. “Next time you try to go in, maybe try learning the password first, yeah? There’s a brilliant idea for you.” You murmured, not caring if your friend heard you or not.  

Talk around town was filled with nothing but Sirius Black the next few days. The theories on how he got in into Hogwarts became wilder and wilder that you heard a young Hufflepuff student babble on to anyone who would listen that Sirius could turn into a flowering shrub. Sirius had laughed for ten minutes straight at that. You became busier as well- McGonagall strode in one day asking to speak to you privately.

“Dumbledore has requested your presence in his office any time you are available.”  

You wiped your hands on your apron, giving your old professor a questioning look. “Um, you can tell him that I’ll be there in a few minutes then, just let me tell Madam Rosmerta-” You were about to head back inside before McGonagall cut you off.

“Actually,” She started and you stopped on your tracks and turned back to her, “I also have a request if it wouldn’t be too much for you.”

“Yes?”

She let out a sigh, “Well, I believe you are aware that Harry Potter is a Seeker in the Quidditch team?” You nodded dumbly, having no idea where this conversation was going. “Well, their first match is on Saturday and the students want to train during the evening. I have already asked Madam Hooch to oversee their sessions, but it would put me more at ease if you were there as well. For extra protection, especially since there is no sign of Black yet.”  

You blinked, processing everything she just said. She was basically asking you to keep an eye on your godson- You broke out into a smile, bobbing your head immediately, “Of course!” You stopped and regained your composure when McGonagall raised a brow at you, “I mean, yes, it’s no problem at all Professor; I’ll head to the Quidditch field every time I finish here then.”

McGonagall let out one of her rare smiles and nodded at you, she then told you she would be waiting for you so you could go to the castle together. Luckily for you, Madam Rosmerta had no qualms about you leaving early today so you left without much hassle and you and McGonagall headed to Hogwarts, making small talk here and there.

When you came here with Sirius, you didn’t expect to be going in and out of the school so much; especially since you’ve been laying low for the past ten years, leaving the Ministry and all that. “I believe you know your way from here.” McGonagall told you as you entered the castle, you nodded absentmindedly so she left you in the hall. 

The students stole glances at you as they passed by, some surely recognizing you from the Halloween feast. You stuffed your hands inside the pockets of your coat and made your way up the numerous staircases until you reached the familiar corridor that led to the Headmaster’s office.

You stood outside entrance covered by the large and ugly stone gargoyle. You were at a lost since McGonagall never mentioned the password to you. So how were you going to go inside now? Just before you turned on your heels to find someone who could get you in, the pathway opened as Remus came out looking rather under the weather. He stopped on his tracks when he saw you; he cleared his throat and fixed his tie. “Y/N” He tiredly greeted.

“Remus.” You answered with a nod. The both of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to talk about. You glanced behind him, at the stairway to the office, “Um, is Dumbledore available?”  

Remus turned and glanced at stairs as well, then looked at you again, “Uh- yes, yes he is, we just finished our discussion and he doesn’t have an audience now so...” He trailed off.

“Okay, I guess I should head in then.” You mumbled and walked past him before turning back, “Take care of yourself okay?” You told him. He gave you a curt nod before walking away, so you went on to your business.  

Sirius paced back and forth in the little house you shared. “Honestly, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy with all the pacing. It’s not good for the floorboards.” You snapped. He sat down next to you in the sofa and looked at you seriously. Despite the rather upbeat music that played from the radio in the corner, the room had a rather glum atmosphere.  

“Dumbledore wants you to-”  

“To patrol Hogsmeade and Hogwarts a couple of times in a week. Report to him if I find anything suspicious, or I see any clues where you might be.” You finished.

Sirius furrowed his brows, “But why? You’re not an Auror anymore, you don’t have to do shit for them.” He snarled. Because what ever did Dumbledore did for any of them when the Potters died? He gave Harry to those god-awful Muggles and hadn’t even tried to give a fair trial to Sirius.  

You looked up to your Headmaster, you always had, but sometimes... sometimes his actions frustrated the hell out of you. Sirius took your hands in his when he noticed your visibly upset face. “I shouldn’t have brought you here with me. I think they’re trying to get you back into their fold.”  

“Sirius, you must be forgetting something,” You gave him a bitter smile, “They’re not the enemy here.” Sirius sighed and dropped his head to your joined hands. You freed one and ran it through his black locks. “Besides, this just means I get to see Harry more often, and maybe help you if the situation requires it.” You smiled at the thought.  

“You’ll get to see Moony-” he mentioned, “You’re bloody miserable every time you see him again, I know you, when you came back after the feast and today, after that meeting with Dumbledore, you’ve been lost in thought. You still love him, don’t you?” He sat straight again and looked at you straight in the eye. “I don’t want to see you die a little inside every single time.”

Your smile faltered; you hadn’t realized that Sirius noticed. You thought you were being discreet about it. “I...” You inhaled sharply, “I never stopped.” You admitted for the first time, letting out a defeated breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep your emotions in check whenever Remus was the topic of your conversation. Sirius placed a warm hand on your cheek and wiped a stray tear away.  

“Moony’s a total git for letting you go.” He commented, you let out a dry laugh at that and he grinned. “C’mere” He pulled you up from the couch and held your hands, a playful glint in his eyes as he swayed to a different, but still upbeat song from the radio. He looked rather idiotic as he moved left to right in what could be called an impromptu dance. You laughed as he pulled you close and twirled you around at random moments, it was as if your worries and your hurt was being washed away and the once gloomy house was filled with laughter for the first time since you’ve been there. Remus, Peter, Dumbledore and the Dementors were faraway thoughts at that very moment because all you could focus on was your best friend who was swaying with you clumsily to a Muggle song the both of you didn’t even know the title of.  

As the song neared its end, your head leaned on his neck as he held you close, slowly turning with your hands still clasped together, relishing in the company and comfort the two of you gave to each other, but reality was slowly seeping back in by then and you stopped when the song ended. You pulled away from him; the two of you shared a look as static played in the background before you retreated to your bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you.  

___________________

Permanent Taglist:

@coffeeismylife28 , @oreofrappiewithblueberry

#sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Harry Potter #the prisioner of azkaban #hogwarts #peter pettigrew #the marauders

[slothssassin]

OC/Shepard as a companion

So ages ago the lovely @alyssalenko tagged me to do this, thank you, and sorry it took so super long! Originally this is a meme for your Shepard, but since I wanted to add a new OC to my Jules Shepard's story, I did it for her. Hope you don't mind!

Tagging @liaorban @starsandskies @playstationmademe and @galacticnug but no pressure of course, and feel free to do this for your Shep and not for an OC!

Picrew is here!

THE BASICS:

Full name: Tori Robin Royle

Class: Engineer

Pre-service history: Enlisted to basic Alliance training when she was 18 in 2175. After she had finished school, she traveled around for a while, performing at different places, planning to start her career as a singer. All in her family are active Alliance soldiers though so Tori felt the pressure to enlist as well.

Psychological profile: Unlike the rest of her family, Tori wasn’t meant to be a soldier. During her basic training, where she also met Commander Shepard and became their protegé, it became clear quickly that she wouldn’t be able to fight at the front line. The Alliance encourages her to improve her tech skills though, and with hard work (and help from Shepard) Tori becomes an Engineer. While she’s not a powerful fighter, Tori can quickly oversee the battlefield in combat and debuff enemies with her tech skills, actually becoming one of the most valued Engineers in her unit. Still, Tori never really felt at home in the military and didn’t stop dreaming of a career as a musician. While Shepard oversees other young soldiers as well, they developed a special connection with Tori, reassuring her to go her own way, even if that meant leaving the Alliance. To her own surprise, Tori gets assigned to a unit that hunts down batarian pirates in 2179. During an attack she gets heavily wounded though and loses her right arm. After she spent months on her recovery, she finally decides to leave the Alliance. Not much is known about her life after that - but she did become rather well known on the Citadel, finally working as the musician she always wanted to be. The Alliance loosely keeps track of her as she’s still in contact with Commander Shepard.

Rest is under the cut :)

MASS EFFECT 1:

When/how are they recruited: She won’t be recruited in ME1. She’s 26 at this time (2183), and left the Alliance in 2180 after she couldn’t get over her accident in 2179. Tori used to play the guitar in a band, but in 2182 she started her solo-career. She’s not really a celebrity but has made a name for herself as a singer, mostly performing at bars. Shepard can meet her at the Flux where she performs on Wednesday nights with her “Oldies” show - heavily influenced by 1950s Earth music.

Where are they on the Normandy: At the Citadel. She can be found at the Flux when she performs or at the Presidium

Are they romanceable: No

Personal quest: If Shepard visits her at the Flux they can talk about their common past. Tori will ask Shepard to check on her parents who she hasn’t heard from in a few months - which is not uncommon, as they aren’t close, but she started to worry. Shepard can then check the last known coordinates for the spaceship Tori’s parents worked on and find out that there was a major technical problem. The crew was trapped on the Carrier with no means to land and no way of contacting anyone. If Shepard does the mission and saves the ship, including Tori’s parents, it will contribute to Tori and her parents getting closer plus you get to see Tori perform. If Shepard doesn’t visit Tori or doesn’t do her quest, a Turian ship will save the Carrier and Shepard will hear about it in an elevator on the Citadel.

Who are their friends: Shepard is her friend, and she would get on especially well with Liara, Joker and Kaidan.

MASS EFFECT 2:

What does their dossier say: Tori Robin Royle, or Robin Royle aka RR when she performs, is a seemingly harmless, popular singer on the Citadel. But, behind the mask of a performer, she’s a retired but very capable Engineer. She has ties to Commander Shepard, could be easily influenced to help the mission, and, as a friend, might improve Shepard’s mood and thoughts about working with Cerberus, if she is recruited.

When/how are they recruited: She can be recruited in Act 2 after Shepard went to Horizon. If Shepard was in a romantic relationship with Ashley or Kaidan, Tori will send a message to Shepard, telling them she heard what happened and is there to talk whenever they want. The Illusive Man will encourage Shepard to visit Tori on the Citadel and ask her to join as she could be a valuable asset - hinting heavily that he has the means to end Tori’s career if Shepard doesn’t ask her.

Where are they on the Normandy: Either in the Mess Hall on Deck 3 or in the Starboard Observation.

Are they romanceable: No. If Shepard doesn’t romance Thane she’ll be in a relationship with him though.

How do they react to the PC returning: She will be incredibly surprised, but happy - after all, they had been friends and Tori had grieved for them. She’d be unsure about their connection to Cerberus though, and worried that Cerberus rebuilding them might have changed them. Tori would ask Shepard some personal questions, but would stop quickly as she’d feel like she’s invading their privacy. Only later on, on the Normandy, they would talk again about how Shepard feels about working with Cerberus, their cybernetics, and their personal history.

Personal quest: Tori approaches Shepard after she gets a call from her parents. If Shepard did Tori’s assignment in ME1, she will tell them that she got a bit closer with her parents, even though they don’t see each other often. If Shepard didn’t do her quest she’ll say that her parents wouldn’t contact her if it’s not important. Tori’s brother Andrew, a rather high-ranking Alliance officer, has gone missing and the Alliance wasn’t able to investigate or didn’t share any information. Shepard and Tori will meet with the Shadow Broker, aka Liara, to get information on Tori’s brother. They will discover that the Alliance did investigate but couldn’t find out what happened to Andrew either, and that his last coordinates are somewhere on a planet in the Horse Head Nebula. After following the coordinates and finding some clues they discover that Andrew had formed a small unit to hunt down a gang of Turian pirates. The pirates got the better of them though and Andrew and his unit died - their bodies can be found inside a factory, seemingly killed in action. Tori will be devastated, even though she wasn’t close with her brother. Shepard can assure her they will hunt down the pirates (which would lead to another side quest) and that they’ll do her best so the Alliance honours his death - this will cheer Tori up a little, but it’s not necessary to gain her loyalty.

Do they fight with any other companions: She has companions she’s not very close with due to them being rather different - like Miranda, Jack or Zaeed. However she rather keeps her distance than to engage in any fights.

What files does the Shadow Broker have on them: Her personal history, information on her family and video material of some of her performances. A list of songs she wants to cover, an extensive shopping list and the history of her watched videos. If Shepard hasn’t romanced Thane, then he and Tori get close - there will also be some files of songs she wrote for him (and changed frequently) and some emails they exchanged.

Can they die in the suicide mission, and how: She can die if she’s left behind as a defender as her combat skills aren’t the best.

MASS EFFECT 3:

When/how are they recruited: After the suicide mission she takes some time off. First, she visits her family and grieves for her brother. Then she goes back to the Citadel, planning to continue working as a singer. If she’s with Thane she spends less time performing and puts all her energy into helping him find a cure. She can then be convinced to come back to the Normandy after Thane dies (or for those like me who refuse to accept that Thane dies: They both come back after the Coup). If she’s not with Thane she will still join the Normandy Crew after the Coup.

Where are they on the Normandy: Mostly in the Starboard Observatory or the Mess Hall, just like in ME2.

Are they romanceable: No. If Shepard didn’t romance Thane she’s with him.

Citadel meetup (during the game, where do you meet them on the Citadel and what do you talk about): She can be found on the Silversun Strip, happy to get the chance to perform again. Other times she’s seen with the refugees, talking to them or playing the guitar for some children. If she’s with Thane, both can also be found at the Presidium. She and Shepard would talk about their past, how things have changed, and their hobbies. If she’s with Thane Shepard can also talk about his sickness (and recovery) and how they spend their time together.

How does the PC relax with them in the Citadel DLC (ie, buying gifts with EDI, watching the game with James and Vega, etc.): Tori would invite Shepard to watch one of her performances. She’d also suggest some firearms training as she feels like she needs it. Alternatively they would go to a bar or a restaurant to talk, or go shopping for supplies (and maybe more fish).

What do they say to the PC before the final battle: “I can’t believe this is it.. I’m scared Shepard, but I’ll do my best to assist you. And please, know that whatever happens - you’ve been a true friend to me, always helpful, always supporting. I’m thankful I met you all those years ago. Now let’s go. We’ll get out of this. We’ll see each other again, I know it.“

#mass effect #mass effect oc #tori robin royle #tagged

[yahboobeh]

When the Clock Strikes Midnight

Happy New Year everyone! Here’s my NejiTen discord server Secret Santa fic for @giada-luna! FF.net | AO3

There were very few things to do at the hospital, and Neji could count them all on one hand. He thought he would have been used to it by now. He had spent most of the past two months in and out of the hospital between checkups and surgeries as his body slowly recovered from the multiple impalings that should have killed him. 

He mostly slept, breaking apart the cycle of visits from nurses and loved ones with groggy drug-induced naps. However, four days post-op meant his pain medication was replaced with something less addictive, making even napping a difficult way to adequately pass the time. Hinata insisted that Neji packed a book, but he’d made short work of that the first day the nurse had removed his IV (and, by extension, his pain medication). The tv on the wall was only good for the white noise, and even meditating was starting to feel monotonous. 

Luckily, tonight was his last night in the hospital, recovering from what was hopefully his final surgery. It was also New Year’s Eve.

As if on cue, Tenten was there, pushing the door to his room open, sporting a pink and white quiapo and smile on her lips. 

“Oh good, you’re awake!” 

He nodded and watched Tenten close the door and cross the room to the side of his bed. 

“New dress?”

Her face reddened as if she hadn’t expected him to notice, much less comment on it. 

“Yeah, new year, new me?” She chuckled awkwardly. “What do you think?” 

“I like it.” 

Her blush deepened, and she muttered out her thanks before shifting the conversation away from herself.

“Have you done your exercises today?”

Neji sighed before answering, yes. A nurse came by twice a day to ensure he was walking and practicing special breathing techniques to keep his lungs clear. Tenten knew this but continued to worry over his recovery consistently. 

“You did the breathing exercises?”

“Yes.”

“And the coughing?”

“Tenten.”

“Ok, but when did you go for a walk last?”

“Last night when you insisted,” he teased.

Tenten crossed her arms and huffed at him.

“That’s not funny. Sakura said it’s important for you to move.”

“I know,” he said with a bit more exasperation than he’d intended, “I’ve been through this countless times over the last two and a half months, Tenten.”

“I’m sorry,” she huffed, “forgive me for being concerned.” 

Neji sighed. They were both tired and stressed. Tenten came to visit him every day, and it didn’t matter if he was in the hospital or resting at home. She seemed to have made overseeing his recovery her primary job. Neji knew from Lee’s visits that Tenten was also fretting over Gai. He appreciated her concern and even felt guilty for being the source of her anxiety, but the constant worrying and nagging opened the door for more arguments. Neji enjoyed exchanging barbs, but Tenten was the last person he wanted to argue with.

“A walk sounds nice,” he relented. They walked every night, regardless of her questions and his answers. So, Neji began the slow process of sitting up. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did during his initial recovery, but his muscles still ached and protested from the exertion. 

The nurses made him keep a walker next to his bed to brace himself on while he got out of bed, but Neji hated it. It reminded him that he was weak, mortal, and very lucky. Tenten knew he hated the walker; Neji didn’t even have to tell her. It was one of his favorite parts of their friendship. They knew each other so well that they communicated silently. Tenten stood in front of him, offering out her hands should he need them. 

In front of anyone else, Neji would wave away assistance but not from Tenten. They gripped each other by the forearms, and Neji stood up. She smiled the whole time, and his heart fluttered. 

“Where should we walk to tonight?” she asked as they stepped out of Neji’s room and started down the hall.

“Have you eaten anything?” 

“Not yet.”

“Then how about the cafeteria?”

“Oh, are you offering to buy me dinner?” Tenten teased.

“Sure, just charge it to my room,” he joked. 

But he’d seen the glint in Tenten’s eyes at the prospect of a meal. He knew she wasn’t eating well. She looked thinner and tired. The war had been particularly unkind to Team Gai, and while Tenten carried herself with a demeanor that said ‘I’m okay,’ Neji could see the truth. He hated it. Hated that she was spreading herself so thin between his and Gai’s recoveries, that she only had Lee to train with, that she had seen so much and cried so little. 

“Let’s eat,” Neji confirmed. 

The walk was slow. All of his walks were slow. 

“How is Gai-sensei doing?” Neji asked. “Lee thought he was almost done in surgery when he was visiting.”

“Yes, he is doing well. He was in recovery when I went to see him today. I left when they moved him back to his regular room. Although I think Sakura gave him some extra medication to make sure he rests.”

“Ah, so I take it we won’t be seeing him tonight?” 

Neji paused to rest, and Tenten leaned against the wall.

“Lee and I talked earlier. Gai-sensei will likely be in and out of consciousness all night. We decided it would be best if we split up this New Year’s celebration. He’s staying with Gai-sensei, and I’m with you.”

“So we finally get a quiet and uneventful new year?” 

Tenten giggled.

“Just this once.”

They started walking again, quiet as they neared their destination. At the entrance to the cafeteria, Tenten continued the conversation.

“You know, this just means that next year Gai-sensei and Lee are going to go over the top to make up for this year.”

Neji rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the images of Gai and Lee’s potential outlandish plans. 

Tenten, at Neji’s quiet insistence, filled a tray with food. He had eaten earlier, so he prepared a cup of tea and purchased Tenten’s meal. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered while they scanned the room for a table.

“I wanted to,” he ensured. A wave of emotion hit him. He always wanted to do small things for Tenten, to repay her selflessness and kindness with his own. 

He knew she felt the same way he did, and Neji had resolved to tell her as much. It wasn’t a matter of if he should tell her, but when and how. 

Would she want a grand romantic gesture, or would she appreciate something more quiet and comfortable? He could easily imagine either scenario and felt overcome with indecisiveness and nerves. 

Tenten elbowed his arm, and he was back in the cafeteria. 

“Sakura and Sasuke are here!”

Neji gave a nod to indicate that joining them was fine and followed Tenten to the table. 

“Hey, guys!” Sakura, who had been hunched over a cup of coffee, perked up when she saw them. 

“Hey, Sakura! Do you mind if we join you?” Tenten asked. 

“Oh sure, I’m just on a coffee break.” 

Tenten set down her tray and glanced up at Neji. He shook his head, silently declining her offer for help. 

He winced as he sat down and let out a sigh before sipping his tea. 

Sasuke sat across from him, toying with his coffee. 

It was strange to see him without an arm. It made Neji’s stomach turn, and he wondered if it was similar to how Tenten might have felt when she saw him half dead. 

“How are you guys doing?” Tenten asked. 

“We’re good,” Sakura replied, “tired, but good. Things are starting to slow down, and Tsunade-sama is feeling well enough to help out here and there.” 

“That’s good,” said Tenten. 

“And I was just checking up on Sasuke’s… uh… arm… before my break, and here we are.” 

Sasuke polished off his drink and stood up. 

“Gonna grab another coffee, want one?” 

“No, thank you.” 

Sakura then jerked her chin towards them, ever so slightly. 

“How about you two? Need anything?”

“We’re all set, I think,” said Neji, “thanks.” 

Sasuke walked off, and Tenten instantly leaned across the table, her meal half-forgotten. 

“How are things going?”

“He wants to stay and keep me company tonight!” 

“Really?” 

“Yes! My shift runs late. Do you think he’s going to kiss me at midnight?” 

“Maybe! If he does you have to tell me everything!” 

Neji drifted in and out of their rushed conversation giving an appropriate nod or shrug whenever Sakura looked at him for reassurance or he felt Tenten’s expectant glances. 

Sakura excused herself shortly after Sasuke’s return and the pair departed the cafeteria. 

Tenten tried to push her half eaten bowl of fruit onto Neji, claiming she was full and he needed to eat more. 

She cleared their dishes and they slowly made their way back to Neji’s room. 

Neji sighed as he leaned back against the bed, the pillows and mattress taking over for his strained and sore core muscles. The bed was raised so he could sit up comfortably. 

Tenten stretched her arms and yawned before sitting next to him on the bed. 

She reached for the remote and turned on the tv. 

“Only three and a half hours left of this shit year,” she said, flipping through channels. “Do you know which channel is the news?” 

Neji shook his head. 

“There might be a list in the drawer,” he suggested. 

“Oh! I found it!” The local New Year’s Eve celebration show had started. Any other year they would be among the revelers in the center of the village enjoying the festival.

...the crowd is ecstatic tonight...eager to leave behind a year of death and destruction...hearbreak and loss....

“I heard from Hinata that they’re going to interview Naruto and Kakashi-sensei.” 

“Sakura mentioned that earlier today,” said Neji.

“It’ll be weird to see them on TV.”

Neji glanced over to his teammate, catching her eye. 

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here.” 

Tenten giggled and leaned her arm against his. 

“Don’t be silly. This is where I want to be.” 

Neji raised a brow. 

“In a hospital room?” 

“With you.” 

Neji felt his face flush and hoped she didn’t notice. Was this the right moment to speak up? 

“Besides,” she continued, “we can see the fireworks from your window.” 

Neji shrugged. 

“I suppose it’s a fitting end to this year.” 

Tenten smiled. 

“Yes. The year that we never thought would end. It’s been awful from start to finish.” 

“The entire year?” 

“Pretty much. I mean, there were some good things. But it was all just preparation for the war and then…” 

Tenten trailed off, picking idly at a loose thread on the blanket. She shook her head as if she was denying access to the dark place of her mind where those memories were tucked away. Neji knew that place well. He suspected everyone did. 

“It doesn’t matter. The further we move away from this year the better.” 

Neji chuckled. 

“Do you think that once the clock strikes midnight everything will suddenly change?” 

“Maybe, you never know.” She gave him another smile. “It doesn’t hurt to hope though.” 

Their conversation died down for a moment, picking up the familiar pattern of silence between topics. 

The television hummed with the activity of revelers and hosts entertaining the crowd as the last few hours of the year ticked away. 

Twenty minutes before midnight Kakashi appeared on screen to help ring in the new year as Hokage. 

...we’re ushering in the new year with an era of peace...

“I hope Gai-sensei is awake for this,” said Tenten. 

Kakashi was a bit awkward and unprepared, but if Gai was watching, Neji knew that the new Hokage’s performance could be discussed as nothing less than perfect. 

After a few minutes Naruto made his appearance. They listened for a bit before getting out of bed to look out the window. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tenten reached into her kunai pouch and pulled out a small bottle of sparkling sake, “can’t celebrate without a drink.” 

“Don’t let Sakura see that.” 

“It’s a mini bottle and you’re going home in the morning. I think you’ll be alright.” 

She twisted off the cap and took a swig. 

“Although I got a twist-off lid so no one hears a cork pop.” 

She passed Neji the bottle and he took a drink. Fizzy bubbles rippled across his tongue, the sake dry and tart. 

They finished the bottle as the countdown to midnight started. 

...59...58...57...56…

The energy in the room shifted. Neji felt lightheaded with anticipation.

...41...40...39...38...

Neji remembered the question Sakura had eagerly posed to Tenten at dinner.

‘Do you think he’ll kiss me at midnight?’

And he knew that the moment was right. 

....27...26...25...24…

Neji watched Tenten watch the television. She was smiling, and Neji didn’t need his byakugan to see that she had relaxed. If it was the sake or the prospect of a new start, Neji wasn’t sure, but her aura of calm was contagious.

...11...10...9...8…

He looked back up at the television, where Naruto was helping lead the countdown.

...5...4...3...2...1... Happy New Year!

Neji could hear cheering from the nurse’s station as the first few fireworks went off. 

Tenten ignored the view of the fireworks show they had stood by the window for, turning from the tv directly to Neji, her smile wider.

“Happy New Year, Neji.”

His arm moved before he could register it, cupping her jaw. The smile on fell from her lips, and her brows furrowed with the confusion that played across her face. 

That was when he kissed her, soft and gently. He heard the smallest gasp between the burst of fireworks outside their window. Tenten’s lips were soft and tasted sweet like sake. She kissed him back and pressed her hands to his chest. Neji put his hands on her waist and drew her in closer. 

They were slow, sweet and unsure. His mind hummed, and his body buzzed. He wanted to pull her even closer and kiss her harder, but he was too nervous, and this was perfect.

Neji wasn’t sure how long they kissed for, but when they stopped it was nothing more than a brief pause, foreheads pressed together.

“Happy New Year, Tenten.”

#NejiTen #tenten #Neji Hyuuga #fanfic #booh writes