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bgn846 · 3 years

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The Fight

Unable to keep his footing, Ignis could only brace for the impact when the alpha charged at him. It hurt, but he wasn’t down for the count yet. Swinging his legs out briskly sent the alpha down on his back with a thud. The guy barely twitched before he was back up on his feet. He was persistent, Ignis could give him that.

Groaning at what had been a nice calming break fifteen minutes before, Ignis vaulted himself back up to standing and summoned his pole arm bringing it down on the man’s shoulder. Maybe the asshole would stay down now. No such luck, apparently getting hit with a metal pole merely energized the man. He screamed out some sort of feral battle cry and rushed forward once more.

This had to stop, Ignis was getting tired. His mates were still busy guarding Noct so Ignis was on his own for this fight. The last thing he’d expected was to get attacked by some raging alpha idiot. He’d simply slipped out the back door to get some fresh air. There had been too many alpha’s in a small space, he needed to get away.

They were at a new restaurant for shiva’s sake. A normal eatery in the fancy part of Insomnia that happened to have been constructed entirely with recycled materials, hence, Noct’s visit for the ribbon cutting. All of that had gone according to plan; it was the celebratory party afterwards that had given Ignis trouble. All the overbearing scents and raucous laughter were too much. Not to mention the amount of alcohol present. Why was this party so rowdy?

The excessive drinking was also to blame for Ignis’ current predicament. The one drunk alpha who felt he was entitled to a piece of omega never went well. Ignis could defend himself, he wasn’t without skills. This alpha, however, needed to go away. Not wanting to outright maim the man Ignis had gone a little easy, now, though as the alpha charged once again, Ignis rethought this tactic. He was already tired and this wasn’t helping.

Raising his weapon Ignis prepared to strike the alpha again. A flash of blue light erupted out of his peripheral causing him to flinch. A second later Noct appeared in front of him and blocked the hit from the larger alpha. The prince moved gracefully and quickly gained the upper hand. Warping from one side to the other helped confuse the other alpha and soon enough Noct had landed several kicks to the man’s abdomen.

Normally Ignis wouldn’t just stand idle when Noct was in danger, but from where he stood panting for breath it seemed as though Noct was doing fine. He wasn’t left watching alone for long, Prompto appeared by his side a moment later, gun drawn, but pointed downward. Quickly looking back to the fight, Ignis was able to witness the final blow. Noct summoned his father’s sword, the one he’d been gifted on his twenty first birthday, and spun through the air with the precision years of training will offer.

Noct easily connected the pommel with the man’s temple; the alpha crumpled instantly and fell to the ground. It was only after the assailant stayed down, unmoving, did Ignis dismiss his own weapon. Backing up slightly caused him to bump into Gladio. Ignis hadn’t even been aware his mate was so close. Opting to lean back Ignis let Gladio wrap his arms around his waist.

Ignis caught a glimpse of how enraged Noct was when he turned and stalked over. His magenta colored eye’s were trained on his own. “Did he hurt you?” Noct seethed as he came to a halt in front of Ignis.

“Nothing that won’t heal in a few days,” Ignis managed in between breaths.

“Who is he?” Noct demanded.

“I believe he’s the driver for one of the developers.”

“He’s getting arrested and charged with assault,” Noct angrily added as he took a deep breath. “Why were you out here?” he asked with a tone that meant he was serious.

“I needed some fresh air, I’m sorry highness, there were too many alp--.”

Noct’s eyes widened and he quickly dropped his hardened expression, “Shit, sorry I’m not mad I just wanted to know all the details. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Before he was able to respond, the door to the building behind them opened, and several other people spilled out into the rear parking lot area. This of course was followed by even more people coming out to investigate. Needless to say, the night ended up dragging on as they waited for things to be dealt with properly. The police came, interviews were given, security footage was reviewed and the man was arrested.

Turns out he was a known offender that liked having his way with omegas. This time however, he picked on the wrong omega. The adrenaline rush had long since worn off as they all made their way to the limo to go home. Ignis could honestly say he was exhausted. Thankfully, his pack hadn’t left his side since the incident. For once they had a driver as well, which allowed Ignis to nestle in the backseat with Noct and Prompto on either side. Gladio seemed to know he wouldn’t fit and he took the seat opposite and simply watched. His warm smile was enough to appease Ignis until he could hug his alpha again.

The drive was a blur as they headed back home, Ignis was still amped to sleep so he instead watched the scenery wiz by. They’d be back and out of the public eye soon enough. The only thing left to figure out was what to do when they arrived. A hot shower sounded divine but Ignis wasn’t so sure his mates would let him go it alone. That was the only fault at being the lone omega in the pack, they doted on him and even more so when things like this happened.

Not that Ignis was upset at their clingy behavior, he secretly loved it. However, his energy level was reaching its limits and he needed to rest. It seemed his exhaustion was more obvious than he’d realized when Noct and Prompto both refused to let him go on the walk up to the suite.

“I’m alright,” he tried feebly as they manhandled him into the elevator.

“Don’t even try, we’re not letting go,” Noct pouted as he smashed the button for their floor.

Sighing fondly Ignis let himself be pulled around. It wasn’t until they’d reached the front door did Ignis realize what Gladio had been doing. His normally very cuddly alpha was working, his eyes scanning every hallway and dark corner. Figures, he was still on guard, Ignis had to work hard not to keen lovingly out loud at the gesture. Ignis knew that once they were safely inside Gladio would loosen up, but for now it was making his inner omega swoon mightily. The moment the door was closed and locked behind them everything changed. Prompto tackled him for a bone crushing hug and wouldn’t let go.

“Ow,” Ignis huffed softly.

“Shit, sorry!” Prompto exclaimed

“Come on, we are all jumping in the shower and then it’s out to the hot tub on the deck,” Gladio proclaimed as he herded them down the hallway and towards the master bathroom.

“The hot tub?! At this hour, surely you’re joking,” Ignis blurted as he was dragged along.

“Why the hell not, we all want to cuddle you and the hot water will help loosen your muscles up.” Gladio offered.

“It’s nearly three am and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.”

“Prompto can you go turn the jets on and get the cover off?” Gladio instructed ignoring his worries. “Iggy, babe, you are allowed to fall asleep in the hot tub ya know that right?”

“Yes, yes, but I’ll get all pruny.”

“Gladio’s right it’ll help you relax, after that fight especially,” Noct added as he stepped forward to help Gladio undress him. “Besides we can’t all fit in the bath together, the hot tub will be better.”

Ignis had no time to form an argument in favor of sleeping instead. He was whisked away to the shower where all three of his mates, Prompto had returned from his mission by this time, miraculously fit into the shower stall together. The hot water felt so nice and Ignis couldn’t help but pull the nearest body close to lean on.

“Careful, you’re gonna make me fall over,” Noct whined as he reached out to steady himself.

Humming in response Ignis simply enjoyed the warmth and let Prompto and Gladio wash away the dirt. He’d all but forgotten that his pale skin was starting to show bruising from the fight, when Noct sighed mournfully.

“I wish we’d been there to help you fight that asshole,” the prince lamented.

“Though based off the footage I saw you were really giving it to him,” Prompto added with a hint of awe. “Like you hit him with a pole arm and he didn’t stop. Plus you kicked him a ton and he still didn’t slow down.”

“He was the true definition of aggressive, I’ll give you that,” Ignis muttered from where he had his nose buried in Noct’s neck.

“Oh but guys, guess what, guess what,” Prompto enthused suddenly, distracting them from talking about the awful alpha.

“Oh no, I know that tone, you’ve done something,” Gladio sighed as he reached out and ruffled Prompto’s wet hair.

“I drew the curtains on the patio so we could jump in naked!” the blond added excitedly.

Noct jumped up a little and Ignis could tell he was smiling. “Nice one buddy!”

“So we ready?” Gladio asked as he leaned over to shut the water off. “We’ve got an omega to cuddle.”

Despite having his eyes closed Ignis rolled them for good measure. Reluctantly pulling away from his prince Ignis barely had time to react when Gladio swept him up off his feet and headed out of the bathroom. “Gladio! You’re still wet!”

“Yeah and what’s the point of drying off when we’ll be jumping in the hot tub?”

“The floor is getting dripped on!” Ignis whined pitifully. Though truthfully it didn’t matter, the floors were all tile and they were all clean. His only worry was Gladio slipping but he’d already made it out onto the patio and was climbing up over the edge and into the blissfully hot water. Six, Ignis needed this.

“Hey big guy you gonna share?” Prompto asked as he joined them and waded over to sit next to their alpha.

“I think we should all get turns holding Iggy,” Noct supplied as he climbed in and immediately ducked his head under the water. Coming up a second later he floated closer and wedged himself in between Gladio’s legs and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ waist.

It didn’t take long and Ignis could feel himself drifting off. Gladio was still cradling him like a baby which didn’t help matters. He always fell asleep when Gladio held him. His remaining waking moments kept occurring when he’d get passed off to one of his mates. First he awoke to Noct hugging him and rubbing all over his scent gland. Unable to keep from giggling, as it tickled, Ignis turned his head and went back to relaxing.

He somehow missed getting out of the hot tub, and his next waking moment was Prompto pulling him close in their stupidly large bed. Returning the gesture, Ignis hugged his beta tightly. He felt warm and his mind was finally at ease over the evenings events. The hot tub had done the trick, releasing all the tension from his aching muscles.

“Sleep, you’re safe,” Gladio whispered from nearby as the bed dipped. Soon a strong arm was wrapped around his midsection.

“Wh’s Noct?” Ignis managed as he tried to see in the dark.

“M’here,” came the muffled reply.

Ignis realized that both of his alphas were on the outside edge of the bed. Gladio was behind him and Noct was spooning Prompto. Smiling at the protective behavior Ignis let his mind shut down. Sleep claimed him almost immediately after that. There was nothing left to fret about, he was safe.

#ffxv #fanfic #ignis #ot4 #alpha beta omega

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huilian · 4 years

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Character: Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne

Summary: One person's hobby can quickly be the entire family's business, especially with a family like this (aka, Cass's adventures with ballet featuring her relationship with her siblings and Steph)

***

It’s rare that Cass would willingly sit in front of a laptop for an extended period of time for something that is not a case. It’s even rarer that her schedule would coincide with Tim’s enough to allow them to be sitting in front of their laptops together. (Well, separately, but in the same room at the same time. So, close enough to being together.)

It’s only because Tim has been expecting it for a few minutes now that the sound of a laptop being slammed closed doesn’t startle him. Tim looks up to find Cass putting her head into her hands while saying, “Ugh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This… this damned website!” Cass all but shouts. “How am I supposed to know which shoes fit me best if I haven’t worn them ever? I’m reading your website to figure that out!”

“Umm… Cass?” Tim is now confused. Very confused. “Can you backtrack a little? What shoes?”

“Ballet shoes!”

“I thought you have them already? What shoes have you been wearing to class then?” Cass has been taking dance classes for months now. She must have ballet shoes, there’s little to no chance of her doing all those classes barefooted. Tim knows that ballet requires special shoes, which is about 50% of his current knowledge about ballet.

“Not those shoes. These are the… the… the pointe shoes!”

Tim is now even more confused. “So? There you go. The shoes you’re looking for are those pointe shoes.”

“No! There’re different kinds of them!”

“Huh?”

“Different brands and models and years and… and the endless modifications!”

“Okay.” Tim raises his hands placatingly. This sounds like an information problem, which he can help with. “Can I maybe, you know, look at the website? Maybe I can help?”

Cass slides her laptop to Tim. Tim closes his own laptop, then opens Cass’. Fifteen tabs greet him from the screens of Cass’s laptop. Tim sees that this is not the only window opened, and is then greeted with another three windows, each having tabs ranging from ten to thirty. Huh. It’s usually Tim who has that problem, opening too many tabs and windows and finding himself trapped in an information hellhole before he looks up to find that he has spent the entire day reading about the probabilities of oak tree getting struck by lightning.

Thankfully, that same thing has prepared Tim for this day. He quickly skims about every other tab. About a quarter of them is measuring tips, half of them are blogs with fitting and choosing tips, some are lists of pros and cons, and the rest are catalogs.

“Are all of these for choosing pointe shoes, Cass?”

“Yes,” Cass grits out.

“I… I never knew there are so many brands of pointe shoes.”

“Exactly! How am I supposed to choose if there’s so many of them!”

Tim, armed with his years of experience of sorting through bullshit on the internet, finds the most promising blog article titled ‘How To Choose Your Pointe Shoes: Guide to Getting the Best Shoes’ and starts to read.

“It says to go for a professional fitting? Maybe we should do that.” Cass makes a sound of protest. “I can start researching, but it’ll take ages and I’m not sure I’ll get it right. I’m pretty sure that poor pointe shoes fitting causes injuries, Cass. When do you need it anyway?”

Cass mumbles something. Tim, whose attention is now partially reading the section titled ‘Shank Strength’ and wondering what on earth a shank even is, doesn’t catch it at first. Then, the connecting nerves between his ears and his brain rebooted, and Tim screeches out, “Tomorrow? Yeah, no. We’re going to a professional fitting right now.”

“Ugh.”

“Cass,” Tim says, drawing out the syllable.

“Ugh.”

“Come on.”

“Ugh.”

“You’re seriously gonna make me read all of this before tomorrow? Have some mercy, Cass,” Tim teases. But seriously, he doesn’t want to have to read all of it in the short time-frame he has. He can do it, but then he’s gonna skip dinner and forgoes sleep and rest entirely and he just got Alfred to stop hounding him to go to sleep after his latest incident . He doesn’t want to have to do it again.

“You’re gonna do it anyway.” He is, but still. It’s the thought that counts. “Fine. It can’t be worse than comparing the box length of Grishko and Bloch.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

“Do you know where?”

Tim freezes. “Shit.” Now he still has to research the fitter in Gotham, and vet the places, and do all sorts of things he was hoping to not have to do by going to a fitter. Damn it.

Cass, being the absolute horrible sister that she is, just laughed at him.

“It’s your shoes, Cass! You do it!”

“No. You read about it. It’s your project now,” Cass smiles triumphantly.

“You are the worst.”

“I am the best.”

***

Jason only comes to the Manor to return Alfred’s pans, swear to god. There’s about half a dozen of Alfred’s pans (because even though it’s Bruce’s money that bought them, they are Alfred’s pans) in his latest apartment, and it’s getting ridiculous. Maybe take a book or two from the library while he’s there, because even with all of Bruce’s fault, he still keeps the library well-stocked with Jason’s favourite books.

So how come that leads to him being dragged by Cass to the Cave?

“Cass. Cass, please,” he tries.

Cass’ response is only to drag him even faster. How a girl half his size has the strength to drag him down the Cave’s stairs, Jason doesn’t know.

“Cass.”

“You said you don’t have anything else to do today. So you can do this.”

“Well, Cass, I-”

“It’ll be fun. You only have to sit. You can even read the entire time.”

“What if-”

“Alfred agrees.”

Jason sighs. “I doubt this is what he meant when he told you to go somewhere else to practice, Cass.”

“I asked him. He agrees.”

Jason sighs again. The problem is, she did ask Alfred, and Alfred did agree. Though why Cass chose to ask Alfred for permission to use Jason as a living, human barre for her ballet practice after Alfred banished her from using the kitchen countertop is a mystery. Maybe she thinks that Jason is not going to protest if Alfred said yes?

“Why me? You can have literally anyone to be your personal barre, Cass.”

“You are the right height.”

There’s nothing to say to that, is there? What’s Jason going to do, argue that he is not the right height? He doesn’t even know how high a ballet barre should be. Besides, Cass is right. Alfred already said yes, and he even went so far as expressing his delight in seeing Jason interacting with his siblings outside of their ��nighttime activities’. So there’s that. There’s no arguing with Alfred when he had given out his verdict like that.

They arrive at the Cave, and then Cass drags Jason towards the empty space somewhere in between the sparring mats and the computer. Then, she lets Jason’s arm go, which should be enough of an opening for Jason to escape, but Jason knows what Cass can do. She’ll just catch him and drag him back. Jason accepts his fate and stays put even when Cass leaves his side to in search of a chair. Cass finds one, then drags it over, and then says, “Sit.”

Jason, who knows that this girl can easily force him to sit, sits. Cass smiles and nods her approval. She scrolls down on her phone for a while, and then music fils the Cave via the speaker system Bruce installed. Jason allows himself a small shake of the head. It’s just like Bruce to install a speaker system and then let it go to waste by preferring to brood in silence.

Cass puts her hand on Jason’s shoulder, and starts dancing. The hand is feather-light throughout her first combination, and Jason knows enough about ballet to know that this meant Cass doesn’t particularly need a barre to do the movements.

But. Well. It’s not half bad, watching his sister dance in between reading his book. That, coupled with the knowledge that Alfred is somewhere upstairs, most definitely preparing Jason’s favorite foods, made Jason relax.

“Stop moving!” Oh. Jason relaxing meant that his shoulder is now not in the same place it was before.

Jason smiles and says, “Sorry, sorry,” surprising himself that he actually meant the apology.

***

“Cass? Are you there?” Cass had promised to teach Steph a new throw today, but she’s not in the Cave, so Steph is now up in Wayne Manor, hoping she’ll find Cass in her room. “Cass? You promised to show me that throw, remember?”

Steph hears movement from inside Cass’ room, so she opens the door, considering Cass to be well and truly notified of her presence by her hollering in the hallway, only to be greeted with the sight of Cass with surgical tape and cotton balls in her hands. Steph goes to full-alert mode immediately, because anything or anyone that can get Cass to be hurt is a huge threat.

(Steph still hasn’t forgotten about Lady Shiva.)

“Cass, are you alright?” Steph says.

“I’m fine.”

“Where are you hurt? Do I need to call Alfred? Or dr. Thompkins?”

“I’m fine, Steph,” Cass’ voice is calm, but Steph has seen her take a bullet and still talks in the same calm voice as she is using now, so that is not an accurate meter to gauge Cass’ wellbeing.

“You’re holding bandages, Cass. You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. Watch out for the bucket.”

“Bucket? What bucket?”

“That bucket,” Cass points to her right.

“Why do you need a bucket?” Steph pauses, then the implication of a bucket in Cass’ bedroom hits her. “Are you sick as well?”

“No, it’s for my toes.”

Toes? What? “Okay, back up. Your toes?”

“Ballet.” Oh. Oh . Now that Steph is no longer worried that Cass is going to bleed out, she realizes that Cass is not putting on the tapes, but pulling it off. Oh, again. “Can you push the bucket here?”

Steph pushes the bucket, which Steph now notices is filled with ice, towards Cass with her foot. Cass puts her feet inside, groaning all the way.

“Ballet?” Steph asks. It seems weird that something so innocent can make Cassandra Cain react this extensively. But again, Steph has long learned not to underestimate anything.

“Ballet,” Cass answers.

“Is it the pointe shoes thing? I’ve read about it somewhere. That’s why I don’t want to go into ballet,” Steph says, lifting up a towel that’s next to Cass and replacing its position.

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?” Steph puts her head on Cass’ shoulders, looking up a while to check whether or not this is okay.

“Yes,” Cass says, both as an answer for Steph’s question and Steph’s unspoken question.

“Can you still teach me that throw?”

“Yes. Give me a few minutes.”

“Okay.” They sit in silence for a while, until Steph suddenly has a thought. “Is it weird that you can take bullets without flinching, but groans at this, or is it just me?”

Cass hums. “It’s a different kind of pain. Never had it before. Not prepared for it.”

“Okay, but is it weird, or is it just me?”

“It’s weird.”

“Are you ready to teach me that throw now?”

“Sure.” Cass pulls out her feet and motions for the towel. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because of this.”

Steph hands her the towel, and says, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

Dick is walking down the hallways of the Manor when he hears Cass swearing from inside a bathroom. Normally, that wouldn’t be a cause of alarm, but since the only reason he’s at the Manor today is because Cass has a ballet recital and everyone is going to go watch it, Dick calls out, “Cass? Is there something wrong?”

“No!” Cass’ voice replies. “Yes! No! I don’t know!”

Okay, that warrants further investigation. “Can I come in?”

Cass makes an affirmative sound, so Dick opens the door, just in time to see Cass putting on false eyelashes in a truly dangerous fashion. As in, almost putting it straight into her eyes. Yeah, something is wrong.

Of course, the false eyelashes do not stick the way it’s supposed to, because Cass is not putting it on properly. Cass swears, again, and picks up the fallen eyelashes from the sink. Dick has seen enough.

“Do you know how to put those on?” Dick says.

“No! Why do they keep falling down? I’m doing it exactly the way they told me to!”

Dick takes a look to the false eyelashes on Cass’ hands, then to Cass’ eyes. “It’s too long for your eyelids, Cass.” Dick frowns. It has been a while since he has to handle false eyelashes. “At least, I think that’s why they keep falling down.”

Cass, who has been furiously dabbing glue to the false eyelashes, looks up to him with wide eyes. “You know how to do this?”

“I mean… I guess, yeah? My mom used to put this on for performances. She would let me help, sometimes.”

“You know how to do this!”

Dick takes a look at Cass’ hopeful face, then says, “Do you want me to do it for you?”

“ Please .”

“It’s been a while since I’ve put this on on anybody. It’s not going to be perfect.”

“ I don’t care . Just put it on.”

“Okay, then. Do you have scissors?”

Cass looks at him, and scrunchs her nose as she says, “No.”

“I’ll get one. Do you want to…,” Dick searches his memory for the times he helped his mom put on false eyelashes, “...clean the glue from the eyelashes? Too much glue will make it stick less, if I’m not wrong.”

“How come too much glue makes it stick less ?”

“I think it’ll make it stiff or something. My mom always cleans the glue off before putting it on. You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” Dick says, but Cass is already picking off the dried glue from the false eyelashes.

When he returns with scissors that’s suitable enough ( not the kitchen scissors, Master Dick), Cass is already sitting down on the toilet.

“Are you still sure about this? I’m not sure I can do a good job, Cass.”

“You will not be worse than me,” Cass says, which, considering she almost poked her eye out trying to put it on, Dick is inclined to (grudgingly) agree.

“Alright. Close your eyes.”

Cass obediently closes her eyes. Dick picks up the false eyelashes from the sink and starts to measure it to Cass’ eyes.

“You did this a lot,” Cass says.

“What? Make-up?”

Cass hums. “ Stage make-up.”

“Oh. I guess, yeah, back at the circus. I didn’t have to put on false eyelashes, though.” Dick dabs on the glue to the eyelashes and starts to gently place it to Cass’ eyelids. “But everything else, yeah. Can you open your eyes?”

Cass opens her eyes, and that makes it clear that one of the ends is misplaced. Dick makes a motion for her to close her eyes again.

“Can you do the rest of my make-up too?” Cass says while Dick is pulling down the misplaced end.

Dick stops, surveys the state of Cass’ face, noting the base already on and the mostly done eye make-up, then says, “You just need some blush and lipstick, and you’re done.”

“Do it anyway.”

Dick exhales out a small laugh. “Fine, little sister. Is there anything else I can do for you, oh most talented princess?”

Cass’s response is to stick out her tongue.

“Don’t do that! You’ll make it harder for the lipstick to stay on!”

Cass opens one eye (one that’s not the one Dick is working on now, thank god) and locks eyes with Dick as she proceeds to lick her entire lip. Dick should be annoyed, but he just laughs harder.

***

Damian watches his sister dance in the exercise room. Not the practice and training space down in the Cave, but in the exercise room upstairs that Father remade to be a dance floor with floor-to-ceiling mirrors after too many incidents of pointe shoes flying in the Cave. Cassandra is truly a master of her body, and watching her do this, a very different use of her body than fighting, is mesmerizing. Damian has watched Cassandra’s dancing before, of course, the entire family went out to watch Cassandra’s recital, but that was with make-up and costume and stage-lights. This, just Cassandra with her leotard and tights in the bare room, is somehow a purer and more hypnotizing version.

It has been brought to Damian’s attention that he should do more moving sketches. Damian reviewed his drawings and concluded that that suggestion has value. He has been drawing more still-life lately, and it would be well to branch out from it. So here he is, debating whether or not to ask Cassandra to allow him to sketch her in her practice.

Damian is tempted to just start drawing, but Richard had said to ask for permission before drawing anyone after Damian had just started sketching his brother’s acrobatics practice. Before Damian can decide on anything though, Cassandra notices him and beckons him over.

“Cain,” Damian greets.

Cassandra tilts her head.

Well, now or never, Damian supposes. With her body-language reading capabilities, Cassandra might already know what Damian is there to do and is simply waiting him out. “May I sketch your dancing?”

Cassandra smiles. “Of course, little brother.” And without waiting for further clarification, she simply moves backward enough to not kick Damian with her dancing and starts where she left off. Damian, perplexed but satisfied enough not to make a fuss, sits down on the wooden floor and opens his sketchbook. He has never sketched a person dancing ballet before, and this is a welcome challenge.

As if she knows what is going on, Cassandra switches her routine, moving to a slower piece with lots of holds and balances, all without losing her graceful movements. It is infinitely easier to sketch this routine, especially with Damian never drawing ballet movements before.

Damian doesn’t say anything. He has a feeling that his sister already knows his appreciation for the change. Why be redundant and say it?

It’s a surprisingly pleasant way to spend an afternoon, especially when Cassandra grows tired of watching Damian sketch and drags him into joining her in a routine. He protests at first, only to give in eventually. And if he ends the session with laughter, well, nobody has to know.

(And if he plans on giving Cassandra a painting of her dancing sometime in the future, well, nobody has to know that either.)

#dc #cassandra cain #tim drake #jason todd #stephanie brown #dick grayson #damian wayne #fic #lian writes #batmanbingo2020

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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Twin Snowflakes 18: A better day

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” Yang shouted, her voice echoing through the summer Menagerie air at her young, ten year old daughter. “What did I say about fighting!?” Veronica wiped her soiled face and snarled. Her eyes were completely feral and nails extended.

“STOP YELLING AT ME! YOU’RE HURTING MY EARS!” Veronica tried running past Yang but her arm was grabbed and pulled back. She kept pulling and struggling but couldn’t break free from the grip. “Let me go!”

“We aren’t done talking!” Yang said firmly, try to keep her voice lower than before. “You have to learn to control your temper!”

“I can’t!”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Yang watched her daughter’s eyes start to water.

“What does it matter!? They’d hate me anyways and it’s you and mom’s fault! I HATE YOU!!” Her words stunned Yang. Veronica took the opportunity to bite her hand, making Yang wince and let go. Veronica sprinted off on all fours into the jungle, crying. Leaving Yang feeling more concerned than hurt.

xxxx

That same concern would continue on multiple occasions. Sometimes more frequently or intense than others. Now it reared its ugly head again as she sat at the bottom of the Schnee manor stairs waiting for her kid to walk through the front door with Nick. Jaune and Weiss were also waiting after Penny had given them the call about what apparently happened at school. They definitely weren’t happy, but they too were more concerned, considering the report on Nick’s health. It was common for the boy to get under the weather. Constant working does that to the body.

“Any minute now.” Jaune said, the calmest of them all. “Remember, let’s not bombard them right out of the g-” the front door opened before he could finish. Both mothers all but ran to it. “Gate…”

“Veronica Nala Belladonna.” Was all the girl heard as she entered the room. Middle names were never a good sign. She winced as if she had gotten a cut at the words and looked at her mother stare at her. Veronica’s ears folded as she let out a sigh. “I know, I messed up. Thought I had it under control but I couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Ya think?” Yang huffed. “Why do you think I tell you all the time to let me make you a breakfast that’ll help. What if you had gotten hurt? Or seriously injured another kid!? We’re lucky the media doesn’t know you’re here yet either or they’d-” The carefully controlled lecture tone was brought to a halt when Veronica walked forward and put her face down in Yang’s chest like a pillow. A muffled “I’m sorry” was heard surprisingly. Veronica looked up into Yang’s matching lilac eyes while she still rested her tired head. “Veronica?”

“I’m still fatigued. It was bad, not the worse,but it was pretty bad.” She pointed at Nick to draw attention to the bruise he still had. Veronica stood up straight in front of his parents and bowed at the best. “Your son was hurt because of me. I apologize…” Nick walked you to her, sheepishly rubbing his head. “It was my bad actually. You know me, charging in without a plan.” He tried laughing but the pain in his nose made it difficult.

Weiss shook her head. “That I understand just fine, but running out of school?”

“I panicked.” He admitted, “also I caught a slight fever so grounding me then sending me to my room is a little mute.” Nick joked. He wanted to break the tension. All the parents looked at each other before turning back. “We aren’t grounding you.” Jaune spoke, “Flynt called and the two boys involved already gave their side of the story and at minimum, Veronica and a student body member will visit his office tomorrow to get the other side of the story.”

“That’s fair.” Veronica stretched. Her body was still trying to settle down a bit. “Is it alright if I go lay down for a bit? Please?” Yang gave her an observing look. Veronica could tell she was looking at her features to make sure she was okay. “Ma I’m fine, also full. Penny’s lab turned into a glorified pizza place.” Yang motioned to the stairs and Veronica went on her way.

“Take a shower first!” Yang chimed.

“Will do.” Nick watched the girl disappear before looking back at the grown ups who were still beaming at him. “Uhhh yes?” Yang walked over and patted his head.

“Thanks for looking after her. I owe ya.”Nick smiled, giving a thumbs up. “Seeing what you said happen in action was an experience. I’ll be sure to watch out for friendly fire next time.”

“Your nose should be broken. Veronica hits hard.” Jaune chimed. He activated his semblance and quickly healed his son’s face. “All better.”

“Thaaaank you!” He sniffled. It was hard not to wish the Arc semblance was the hereditary one sometimes. “I’m going to head off to my room too. I hope Summer remembers all of our stuff. Running out of school isn’t a really good excuse for missing assignments I assume.” Nick took his leave, going to his room as well. Step by step through the halls brought a rhythmic pounding to his head. Sluggish didn’t begin to describe how he felt. Reaching his room felt like a dream come true, or a fever dream anyways. The boy basically stumbled in. Minutes later, Weiss knocked on his door before entering without permission. Her arms crossed and the corner of her lips turned down as she looked at her son that sat on the edge of his bed. His face was redder than down stairs and all of his enthusiasm had vanished; not like it was actually there to begin with. Weiss knew a brave face when she saw one. She knelt down and pressed her hand against Nick’s forehead. Weiss might as well have been touching a heater.

“I look worse than it actually is.” Nick weakly smiled. His mother was having none of it and frankly, he was fortunate for that. Gods know he wouldn’t slow down on his own.

“No school tomorrow for you.” Weiss ordered. “Go run a cold shower for your fever. I’ll make you some stew and bring medicine. This bed is going to be your best friend for at least the rest of the day, no debate.” Weiss waited for protest but it never came. First Veronica and now him, they really were at their limit. Weiss helped Nick up and walked him to one of their many bathrooms. “You know, it’s been awhile since you threw a party or anything. Not even an ‘outing’ of some sort.” Weiss put emphasis on outing. Both of her kids would occasionally want to go around town at night to relax when in reality, both of them would sneak down to Mantle’s harbor. There were plenty of empty warehouses to have underground concerts and raves. Both Jaune and Weiss knew about it but Weiss can’t really blame them. She used to do similar and worse things when she snuck out. Rich kids can’t escape rich problems. The only thing she’s actually said about their late night adventures was an off hand comment about how they better be as clean as they were coming home, as they were leaving the house; the twins immediately knew she wasn’t referring to surface level dirt. As long as that order was followed and nothing extreme happened then she’d let them have freedom.

“I thought about it but too much is going on. Maybe after the tournament. It would be terrible to have some kind of incident before it.”

That was fair. The twins would be crushed otherwise. “Good idea. After the both of you compete, you should do some kind of fun after party. I’ll let you use the yacht.” Weiss saw Nick’s eyes light up a bit. She’d never understand why he loved that boat so much. “Sounds good?”

Nick chuckled, “Sounds great, and it’ll sound perfect once I win gold.”

xxxx

Karma is a dangerous being and Summer was finding that out the hard way. Not only did she have to carry Veronica and Nick’s belongings, but was alone! Valerie was busy with after school activities so Summer never got the chance to ask for help, which might’ve been for the best. If Valerie wanted space from Nick then there was no reason to complain when she realizes that he got into a fight. Though it might’ve been that kind of thinking that put Summer in this situation. Two bags and a backpack was heavier than she’d imagined. Thank goodness it wasn’t a textbook day. Still, all of Vee’s belongings took time to put up. At least she was getting work done before shit hit the fan, especially her designs. Summer tried to pick up the pace. Following the order to get some calcium in her was already paying off. It’s only been a day and yet Summer felt good, more alert even. A good and a bad thing unfortunately; Shiva is no doubt jumping for joy as well. The annoyance was getting one of few things that she wanted. Conversely, Summer was starting to think that maybe this change in her diet could potentially mean resisting Shiva might be easier. Anything would help at this point. It was a day in and day out battle that Summer hated. Her body, her mind, even her very soul, bit by bit she could that she was breaking in the worst way possible. Like glass on the verge of cracking by a high not. If she wasn’t careful of Shiva’s antics then all hell would freeze over.

Summer made it a few more blocks before feeling a little tired. If only she made it to bus in time. She wanted to take a break but the winter season brought the dark early. Darkness meant it got colder and that was a major no no. “What I wouldn’t give for a speed semblance right now, or a functioning summon to carry all this crap.” She thought, a little irritated by the fact her brother actually made an Arma Gigas. “Can’t let him get too far ahead of me. I’ll never pull my weight then.” Summer let her thoughts drift off a little too much. The girl didn’t pay attention to a truck clearing snow off the road and onto the sidewalks. By the time she did, a wave was headed right for her. The girl gasped, quickly activating her thermals. The weight of everything made it impossible to dodge so she just had to endure, until a warm blast of air that felt like it belonged to the tropics, brushed by her and melted the snow. Summer was confused by what just happened.

“Across the street.” A voice called out. Summer looked behind her to see Eliza standing on the opposite side sipping a coffee. “You have a real problem with spacing out, you know that right?” Eliza wasn’t planning on going in the same direction as Summer but decided to cross the street to her since they were clearly going to end up talking. “Can’t you, like blow gusts of wind if you try hard enough?” Eliza didn’t know the specifics of Summer’s condition, but the sensitive Schnee had told her a little of it in an attempt to explain many different absences to both school and meetings.

Summer clicked her tongue, “I could’ve tried, but then the road would probably get ice on it. What brings you this way?” Summer made a mischievous smirk. “Ooo were you going to check in my brother? How sweet.” She playfully laughed until Eliza scared her with a stern look. “It was a joke…”

“Yeah a terrible one.” Eliza deadpanned. She freed Summer of the backpack, choosing to carry it herself. “But I did hear a little of what happened in excruciating detail.”

Summer was perplexed.“Th...that sentence doesn’t make-”

“I will help you all the way to your front gate and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you had to be? You don’t have to go out of your way for me.”

Eliza pulled out a gold pocket watch. “I got time, they’ll still be open for a while.” She could tell Summer was interested in what she was talking about. “I’m telling you…”

“Awww, well thanks anyway.” She smiled. Eliza started walking, ignoring the happy gesture. “You can thank me by keeping your brother out of trouble. I need him focused on our rematch.” Summer could only feel sorry for her brother now. His luck with girls was atrocious. All of them want to take him down a peg in one way or another! Even she wanted to outdo him! Summer made a mental reminder to ease up on him in the upcoming days, except for singing. Family or not, he was going to sing every note well with passion or she would personally throw him off her stage. Mediocrity had no place next her. Then again, sharing the stage was always a big problem.

“You’re spacing out again!” Eliza shouted, already several feet away. Summer yelped and began to jog. “Sorry!”

xxxx

The extra company definitely made the walk feel shorter, even if they barely talked. Summer did notice that Eliza’s coffee was perpetually hot despite the weather. It made her wonder just how much control Eliza had over her magic. It had been some time since she saw her actually practiced it. “Maybe she found a good training spot and that’s where she’s headed?” Summer thought as she climbed the steps to her front door. Surprisingly, Ruby stood at the top of them. “Auntie?”

“Hmm? Oh hey!” The huntress said when she noticed Summer. “I’d say fancy meeting you here, but this is your house.” Ruby laughed at her own lame remark. Summer walked to the door and unlocked it for her.“Thank you!”

“Auntie it’s my house. I had to walk in too.”

“I can still say thank you. Now I can surprise Yang even further. Watch this.” Ruby closed the door behind them and ran to the middle of the room, cuffing her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. “I wanna see my sister!” She sang.

The sound of quick footsteps traveled around another room until Yang slid into view in front of the kitchen doorway. The blonde sang back. “You can see your sister!” Ruby smiled and sang a little louder. “I wanna see my niece!!!!” Ruby held her arms straight up.

Veronica came through the second floor right on que. “You can see your niece!” She sang, falling right into Ruby’s arms. Followed by Yang hugging both of them. Summer always wondered where they got all that energy from. It could only be from their dad. Apparently it was genetic.

Summer waved Veronica’s bag. “Veronica come get your crap. It’s heavy.” The strap left her hand in the blink of an eye. Someone was clearly upset that I touched her stuff. “You could say thank you.”

“Yeah I could do that.” Was all Veronica said. Summer thought about starting an argument right then and there, but a bath was calling her name. “I’m going to warm up. Tell mom and dad I’m home.” On that note, up to her private bathroom she went.

Yang flicked Veronica’s forehead. “It’s not hard to be a little nice.”

“I will do that later. I still feel like a off.” The young faunus took a deep breath and covered her face with her bag. “Can you please...make some dinner, a dinner with actual meat?” She didn’t have to see Yang to know she was practically bouncing up and down.

“Let’s put some meat on those bones!” Yang cheered, running off. Not only was she happy for Veronica, but any day was a good day she could cook without following some rules a diet set up. Cooking should be fun and flavorful. Not filled with kale. “Ruby we can cook and chat like the old days. Get your but in here!”

Ruby looked at Vee. “Your mother is very excitable. That’s where you get that from.” Ruby rubbed her head then took off. Veronica could hear Weiss panic before the shouts started to sound happy. It was either because three fourths of the team was in the same spot, or she was secretly looking for help in the kitchen. Probably both if Veronica had to guess. She might’ve joined them but there was no way she could possibly deal with all of them at once at the moment. Instead she decided to see if Summer was competent enough to retrieve everything. It was certainly looking that way.

“Notes, lists, pens, journa- hold on…” Veronica reached for the journal and took a whiff. Odd, it smelled like Summer. That was a given, she had to put in the bag. What wasn’t right was each page. They all had her scent. Veronica could feel her stomach start to sink and her body shook a little. “That nosy...ugh!” Veronica didn’t waste time with the stairs and jumped right up to the second floor into her room, then crossed the hall. Both of her parents had taught her how important it was to respect boundaries ever since her semblance awakened but Veronica was having a hard time caring. Instead of knocking, she went through Summer’s door in a fit of anger. “HEY! Did y-”

“Gah!” Summer screamed, startled by the sudden entrance. So much in fact that the ground she sat on iced over faintly. The girl looked up at Veronica with tears that quickly tried to wipe away. “What...what do you want!?” She sniffled and groaned, equally annoyed as Veronica. But now Vee’s face looked less angry and more caught off guard. Something that pissed Summer off more. “What!? Can’t a girl cry in the comfort of her own room!?” She stood up and huffed. “It’s therapeutic! Oscar says sometimes you just need to take a minute and let all of your pent up feelings out so they don’t overwhelm you!” Summer couldn’t explain why she felt the need to defend her tears but she did.

Veronica simply looked at the girl. It would look pretty bad to chew her out while she’s crying, especially if she gets back on the floor. Though it was hard, Veronica took a breath and chose a slightly less aggressive approach, raising her journal. “Did you look through this?” She grumbled. Summer nodded slowly. Vee clenched her fist before continuing. “Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Summer could tell this wasn’t Veronica’s usual anger. No, this time she looked like she actually wanted to fight her. “I...I was curious my new outfit was in there. Then I kept flipping because your designs are actually pretty nice….” her voice trailed off. It had been awhile since she actually felt intimidated by the girl.

“Do not, and I repeat, do not go through my sketches unless I tell you to. Something that I probably will never do, got it?”

“Crystal.” Summer replied without delay.

“Good…” Veronica slowly stepped back until she reached the door. “I apologize… for not knocking.” She phased through the door, leaving Summer to continue whatever she wanted to do. Overreacting was a definite problem from Veronica. It was hard not to when she knew Summer saw the back of her book. Nothing but scratched out ideas and claws marks. If she was lucky, Veronica would know better than to ask.

“Great…” Veronica hissed. “Now two people feel like crying.” She tossed her journey into her room and went downstairs. After dinner she’d probably go to bed immediately. Today was a dud, she’d try to have a better day tomorrow.

xxxx

Tomorrow came sooner than expected. Thankfully the night was uneventful and the food was delicious. Veronica was feeling better about today, except for her meeting with the principal. That was gonna take the wind out of her sails. Vee rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got dressed in her own uniforms that she managed to get yesterday before the chaos. It was still pretty early to leave the house. Time zone differences was still kicking her tail. “Best to stay inside for today. Ma will have a fit if I leave.” Veronica pulled out her scroll and texted Nick to see if he was awake, partly out of boredom and concern. Weiss had told her and Summer he was going to stay home today and they needed to be on their best behavior. A thumbs up emoji came up to signal that he indeed was awake and Veronica wasted no time quietly getting to his room.

The girl pushed gently on the door to his room and peeked in. “Pssssst!” She heard him chuckled and took it as an invitation to come inside. Nick still wasn’t looking too well. His face was less red, but the bags under his eyes said enough. “You should be sleeping.”

“I was until you texted me.” He watched his friend’s face drop. Veronica mentally chastised herself. “Of course he’s a light sleeper.” She thought. “Sorry, I could go if you want.”

“It’s fine, this works out.” He said in a sleepy voice that was strangely cute. “I wanna tell you to have a good day at school. Don’t let anyone piss you off okay?”

Veronica scrunched her face. That was easier said than done. “I’ll try my best, for you.” Nicholas laughed again and shook his head. “Do it for yourself, you dummy. I’ll be back tomorrow bright eyed and ready to go.”

“Yeah well you need some shut eye for that to happen first.”

“Yeah, yeah, one more thing-”

“I will play nice with Summer.” It was easy to predict that request. Nick smiled and dozed back off to sleep. Veronica dwelt the hair out of his face. To think he would fall asleep like that? Nick really was out of it. Veronica continued to admire him, blushing the longer she did. Without thinking she pushed his hair away from his forehead and started to lean down. One little goodbye peck on the noggin wouldn’t be so bad, right? Veronica could feel her face heating up as she closed her eyes…

“You could get sick you know?” Said Weiss, standing in the door frame with medicine and a cheeky smile. Veronica immediately jolted up as if she hadn’t just been caught red handed. “M- Mrs. Schnee!” She stuttered. “I didn’t hear you come in. Hehehe….” The innocent act fell apart as quickly as Veronica tried to attempt it. The poor girl covered her face to hide the embarrassment. “My bad, that was inappropriate.” She fiddled with her tail. An unexpected pat on the head by the mother of her crush made Veronica yelp. “This is a weird form of punishment.”

“Probably because it’s not punishment silly.” Weiss might’ve been on team Valerie, but she was more than happy to see Veronica act so lovingly around Nick. Weiss gave the girl her own forehead kiss. “Make good choices today. I believe in you, and so does Nick.” Veronica couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face. She nodded in agreement and went on to finish getting ready. Weiss pulled up a chair and sat next to her ill child. She put the back of her hand to his forehead. Nick’s hand suddenly rose up and took hold of it. He opened his eyes and smiled.

“Hey you, one guest after another.” He noticed the medicine and sat up against the backboard. “I can take it myself. Even if it’s absolutely disgusting.”

Weiss gave him the bottle of unpleasantly thick brown syrup. “Sorry to wake you. You can sleep to your heart’s content after this.”

Nick plugged his stuffy nose and chugged down the bottle. Weiss handed him a cup of orange juice to wash away the taste. He couldn’t even describe it. The closest he could think of mildew and broccoli. “Blegh!! What I wouldn’t give to never be sick.”

Weiss stared at him, annoyed by that statement. “Gee, have you tried taking care of yourself. You’d get sick less often. Crazy concept I know, but I hear it works.”

“Hardy har, I will take longer breaks when I can. Could you hand me my scroll?”

Weiss squinted. “Is it business related?” The silence she received was all she needed. “Why are you like this?”

“It’s actually important! It’ll take three minutes, honest!”

“Then let me text it.” Weiss grabbed the scroll. “Who am I looking for?”

“Eliza.” He groaned, it felt weird not having his scroll in his hand. “Found her?”

Weiss shook her head. “You have no contacts under E and the only M you have is me as Mom.”

Nick laughed. “She’s under W.”

Weiss scrolled down. “Whitley, Winter, Work Wife…” her brain stopped, having to reread that last one. “Work Wife?”

Nick nodded, still laughing to himself. “She bugs me enough about council things and treats the school like a house full of kids that we take care of. Work wife seemed appropriate.”

“Is she aware of this nickname?” Weiss questioned, raising an eyebrow that secretly thought the name was funny.

“Heavens no, she’d be so upset. I doubt my name is her phone as anything good anyways. Can you tell her I won’t be at school today and to be the council member to show up in the office with Veronica?”

Weiss gave a thumbs up and sent the message. His scroll started ringing not even ten seconds later. “Your work wife is calling.” Weiss decided now was a good time to give him his scroll. Something Nick was happy about at all as he answered it. “Hello?”

“I am going to strangle you…” Eliza said, the threat sounding genuine. “You wake me up with news like this? We don’t all wake up 4:30”

Nick had actually forgotten how early it was. For once he deserved one of her threats. “Sorry, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“You sound congested as hell. You really are sick. Not that I didn’t believe you. Hooky is your sister’s style. Speaking of her, why don’t you ask her to do this?”

“Her and Valerie don’t mix well with Veronica, or dumb and dumber. I need a level head in that office room that isn’t Flynt.” He let out a forced cough, putting a little more strain into it than there actually was. “Please…?” He said with a rasp.

“Mmmmgggghhh! You owe me for this.”

“What will it be? I doubt you want money.”

“Your money can shove it. I want you in top physical condition. Normally I’d ask for something a little more tangible but I did ask you to keep me in the loop, so I guess you can’t complain.”

Nick smiled. “You're the best.”

“No one likes a kiss ass.” She hung up. The conversation went better than he expected so it was a win in his book. He gave Weiss back his scroll and sunk back into his bed. “I guess I’ll try this rest thing, night.” Weiss kissed his forehead and left the room. Finally, Nick closed his eyes to get some much needed rest. The world could deal without him for a day, hopefully.

xxxx

Today was going to be better. Veronica was going to be a model guest, which is what she wanted to believe. A bus ride with loud gossiping teenagers had different ideas for her. Rumors had spread like wildfire in a matter of hours apparently. Each one nastier than the last, but she kept her head down and turned up her headphones. “Just ignore them.” She whispered to herself. Summer sat next to her doing the same. Normally she’d want the girl out of shouting distance, but there was no one else she’d want next to her. At least Summer wasn’t vile or daft. The two didn’t have a conversation, even though it might’ve been beneficial. Something about the silence was comfortable. Summer peaked over her way, her mouth opened with shock.

Veronica took out a headphone despite her cat ears being available. “What?” Summer pointed to Veronica’s phone. The screen displayed one of the covers Summer had put on her album. “Oh, that.” Vee shrugged, “Never heard me question your singing have you.” Veronica left it at that and put back in the headphone, turning to the window. She could still see the singer in the reflection, displaying a pleased smile on her face as she also went back to listening to music. Comfortable silence, the only language besides arguing the two were good at with each other. It was short lived when the ride ended. One by one, kids got off the bus and Eliza stood by the door waiting for woman of the hour. Veronica expected her to be the escort. “Let me guess, Nick?”

Eliza let out a long yawn. “Aaaaaahhh! Interrupted my sleep and everything. Didn’t I specifically tell you to keep in line?”

“You’ll come to learn that I was the kid who scribbled her drawings with the crayons she was given.”Veronica took the lead in their walk to the office. “However, I guess I should stay in the lines today huh?”

Eliza rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Frankly, I don’t expect this to end with a pretty picture.”

xxxx

A pretty picture was indeed not looking well. The two stood on the right side of the office while Darren and Max were on the opposite. Flynt sat at his desk with a cup of coffee Eliza was secretly eyeballing. The man could feel the obvious tension in the room and wanted to get through this as fast and efficiently as possible. “Ms. Belladonna, would you like to tell your side of the story?”

Veronica rubbed her chin. There were many ways to play this out. However, only one way interests her enough to seek out.

Actually…I’d like to hear the story they told first.”

Darren crossed his arms, “What, trying to weave a clever lie?”

“Don’t play coy. I want to know just how clever your lie has to call this meeting.” She shot back, pissing Darren off. “As an upperclassmen, you wouldn’t mind humoring little ol me, right?”

“Tsk, as I told our principal, you were in the way of our lockers. Instead of simply moving out of the way, you got snippy and I got a little snippy back. The amount of disrespect you showed was completely uncalled for. Then you decided to escalate the situation instead of apologizing, assaulting the both of us before Nick showed up to bail you out of trouble that you couldn’t deal with; choosing to fight us too, then running off with you before the faculty could arrive. Ain’t that right Max?” The giant of a man nodded. “More or less.”

“Of course he’d leave out the stupid out the stupid flirting and grabbing my tail; shouldn’t have expected full honesty.” She thought internally. If Veronica could slap the punk right now, she would. The look of Flynt’s face told her that he wasn’t buying their bullshit, but it’s all he had to go with. Until she said her take on it of course. “Funny, that’s not how I remember things.”

“And how exactly do you remember things?” Flynt asked. “I’m curious on how the stories differ. A friendly reminder that I have to take disciplinary measures depending on how things unfold from both stories.”

All eyes were on her now and like always, it was in unflattering circumstances. Veronica’s word against theirs. If she told the truth, then no doubt the principal would take her side, and yet there was a problem. One she refused to create. It was a good thing she got Darren to speak so freely. If today was going to start well, then a lie was going to be told. One in her favor, and theirs.

“Mr. Coal, these two men have some facts messed up, but their story is mostly spot on.” Darren and Max raised their brows while Eliza and Flynt spoke in unison. “It is?” They said, surprised.

“It is. I stood in front of their lockers and caught an attitude, they caught one back. Certain insults were thrown, mainly by me and I got upset when they said their own. I attacked, and the two of them couldn’t handle it.” The bits in her voice appeared for the last part. She could tell Darren wanted to say something but his smarter friend prevented him from speaking. “It honestly wasn’t fair. I got so mad that it was easy to knock them around like amateurs. That’s when Nick showed up.” The little joy she gained from her story turned into seriousness. If it was for him or her family, Veronica would lie to the end of the world. “He didn’t attack Darren and Max. He attacked me.”

Everyone once again looked shocked by her words. Veronica continued speaking. “You know Nick, always trying to defuse a situation. As president, he wasn’t going to let his upperclassmen suffer. He jumped right into the fray in an attempt to restrain me. Obviously limbs were flying everywhere, so he ended up hitting them a little. That’s why they think he was fighting them, but he was just trying to separate me. I ended up hurting him in the process. Nick grabbed me the moment he could and ran off with me so I couldn’t hurt anyone else. That’s what happened.” Her gaze was directed towards Max. Veronica knew if this was going to work then one of them had to play along. It was obvious Max had interest in reining in Darren and letting this incident breeze by.

The man understood the silent compromise. They get off as victims as long as Nick does as well. An option he could live with. He didn’t want a stupid fight to begin with. “I think she might be right.” He said. “I mean if Nick wanted to wail on us then leaving with her makes no sense.” Darren shot him a look of disbelief but it was no match for the quiet wrath of Max, silently telling his hot headed friend to not ruin this. Darre bit his lip and mumbled. “Hmph, that does make more sense.” It burned him up a little that a twirp like Nick was just made a hero for beating him up out of anger.

“Mr. Coal I take full responsibility for what transpired yesterday afternoon.” Veronica bowed. Her voice was even and she held back her frustration. “Please only give me the punishment. I was in the wrong so it’s only fair.”

Eliza was stunned by what was happening before her. Veronica had to know the truth would have shot their story to bits, yet she was willing to bare all the blame. It was unexpected to say the least.”

Flynt stood up from his desk. “Very well then. Darren, Max, you two may return to class. The two boys nodded and headed to the door. “Before you go, let’s make something clear.” Flynt walked past Veronica and stared the two of them in the eyes. “I expect nothing but good behavior from you two. Also, I do not care if you both are key players in this year’s tournament. If someone even hints towards either of you bullying a person, especially a faunus in any shape or form…” he put his full attention on Darren. “We will have a very long and private discussion.”

“I also expect any future problems to be taken to a trusted adult or the student council.” Eliza chimed in. “As a sophomore, it’s only right that I give my attention to my juniors. I will be sure to be more observant.” The venom in her voice was clear as day. The boys slowly walked out of the office and went to class.

“Thanks…” Veronica said to the two of them. I wasn’t expecting threats.

“Threats? We did no such thing.” Flynt sarcastically spoke, returning to his seat. “Now for your punishment.Veronica Belladonna, I expect this tournament to be the biggest yet worth your contribution. Don’t let me down.”

“Th-that’s it?”

Flynt didn’t even bother to look back at her. He just started typing. “If anyone asks, you wrote a three page apology to me. For the love of the Gods though, try to have someone around you so no more incidents like this happen again.

Eliza put an arm around Veronica and led her out. “Alright on it sir. Have a good morning.” She waved him goodbye and shut the door. “Okay then, let’s swing by the cafeteria and get some coffee.”

Veronica was still trying to piece everything together. “Wait, so you’re just volunteering now?”

“Someone has to. Now are you going to complain about getting away with fighting, or help me wake up?”

Today was going to be a better day. Veronica could feel it. “I’ll go get the mugs.”

Part 17

#rwby #rwby au #rwby twin snowflakes #jaune arc #weiss schnee #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna #yang xiao long #ruby rose #flynt coal #darren diabhalta #max winchester

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ffxv-chocoheadcanons · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Love

PolyChocobros x Reader

Reader: Genderless (i think i did well keeping it vauge)

Words: 1,562

this is kinda small i know, but im not in the best mood, not to mention this was kinda something personal that i needed a pick me up for my own birthday today. hopefully you guys enjoy and its not a train wreck.

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Everything hurt, from head to toe. Sitting in your car in the parking garage you didn't want to move as you stared at the grey bricks of the building. Today just sucked ass, today was your birthday, just wanted to have a day off to stay at home in bed with your lovers. You tried to request the vacation day you have been saving up for months for this one day but your boss rejected it saying they needed you no matter what.

That morning you had to wake up much more early than normal as your coworker took a sick day and someone was needed in the office. Waking up curled in the arms of your lovers in the bed was so warm and welcoming you just wanted to skip and risk being fired. Yet you needed to make some money and do a job. Forcing yourself to leave the bed you almost fell as Prompto moved his leg trapping your foot nearly falling face first off the bed. With an annoyed huff you took your shower. The world wanted you to suffer this morning as the hot water seemed to not be working at all in the middle of your shower. It was nice and steamy before the icy grip of Shiva hit your back made you yelp out in shock almost slipping and falling.

Getting out early you got dressed ignoring the voices of the others asking what happened as the sound you made woke them up. “y/n” a softer voice said pausing you in getting your clothes on as they placed a hand on your shoulder brushing hair out of our face as the wet strands clung to your face. “What are you doing with this early love?” Ignis asked in a more groggy deeper tone then normal as he was still very tired himself. Ignis woke early but not this early in the morning around 5am he normally was up around 6:30 am drinking coffee watching reading the news with soft music. Looking at him you sighed. “I need to get to work, they needed me early today” “I thought you took the day off” another much more deeper voice asked. Gladio sat up in bed, his hair a mess as he pushed some of it back with his large hand giving a yawn. “I..i tried but they need me, Jane took a sick day so.. They needed me to fill in her spot” Gladio made an annoyed sound as he shifted in the bed as Prompto and Noctis curled up into him as they lost the warmth of you and Ignis in the bed sleeping like rocks.

Ignis moved to place a kiss on your cheek before pulling away placing his hands on your jawline. “Love, why are you cold?” “ah, right almost forgot about that. I think the water heater is broken. The water was freezing cold” ''Going to have to call in to get it fixed then” Gladio mumbled as he was slowly drifting back asleep. The room had the soft glow from the lamp in the corner. You noticed Gladios head drip down. “Gladio, go back to sleep, Ignis you too” you said as you reached for your shift slipping it over your head. “Let me make you some coffee before you go, something to eat” Ignis insisted. Looking at the clock on the side of the bed you noticed the time and shook your head. “I can’t i need to get going, but when I come home I would love a cup” with a warm smile you placed a kiss on his lips before telling them you love them with a mumble from Ignis and gladio telling you happy birthday and they love you as well. Heading out of the room to get your shoes on. You had to hunt for your keys before rushing out the door to the parking garage to get your car.

Normally this early in the morning not many people would be out and about but traffic was annoying as everyone seemed to be taking their time. Stopping at a small place to get something to eat and a coffee you didn't touch it till you got towork clocking in and getting to work. The world just wanted you to suffer, your drink was the wrong one and the food was as hard as a rock making you groan at your desk.

The whole day was filled with annoying complaining consumers and your boss being irritated that day. Fellow employees as well seemed to throw more work on you that day as well. Around lunch you sat there and reached for your wallet to head out to buy something just to make sure you had the cash for it. You noticed that you left it on the dresser in the bedroom making you groan and thud your head into the desk.

The day seemed to drag on more and more. You hoped for a text from Prompto or Noctis, but nothing came up even when you sent them a few more messages. Frowning at your phone you felt tears starting to well up in your eyes. Thinking back on all the years of life you never had a good birthday till you got in a relationship with the four of them. You were always forgotten, or ignored, everyone just never remembered it till you mentioned it or reminded people. Your father seemed to forget about it even doing other things on that day seeming to cast you out. Your mother would try to remember but she was ill.

Family never talked to you anymore maybe from fear of you, or maybe just forgetting about you existing. Scrolling on social media you didn't find anything other than good pictures of food making your stomach growl out in anger. Sending a text message to Gladio and Ignis to ask them to bring your wallet none of them replied as well making the frown on your face deepen more. The tears did start to spill wondering if they were too busy in the citadel.

Turning off your phone you put it away going back to work. It was a long and annoying workday, not to mention having to stay a few extra hours longer. When you were finally able to leave for the night you turned your phone back on for the time. The phone came to life with a few messages from Ignis asking if you are coming home soon. With a quick reply you felt exhausted, your eyes sore from having to mute yourself on the phone with people yelling at you and breaking down because of it. You left heading back home in the traffic.

Still sitting in the car you considered just driving around and maybe just zoning out, but your wallet was still upstairs in the bedroom. With a huff you got out heading up, opening the door you walked in but yelped in surprise as someone crashed into you.

Confused, you locked up letting whoever it was hug you, not fully registering everything as the house was filled with noise and more people. Standing stiff and still you looked around. Balloons taped to the wall and on the ground with a happy birthday banner on the wall. Ignis stood there with a smile on his face and an apron on with Gladio next to him. Looking down at who was hugging you, your face held a warm smile placing a hand on Iris' head. In The room stood Prompto and Noctis, even his father was there and Clarus and Cor. blinking you took it all in as they smiled at you before it all hit at once.

For one birthday people actually remembered it making you start to break down and cry moving a hand over your face trying to hide it some. “y/n?” Prompto questioned moving closer before he noticed the tears and pulled you close for a hug asking if you are alright. It took you a moment of crying before you calmed down. They moved you to the couch to sit down everyone having a worried look before you were finally able to even form a word.

Your voice was shaky as you used it. “S-sorry… i um… never had this happen” you admitted looking around the room at the decoration, the smell of food in the house. “What do you mean never had this happen?” Regis asked from his spot leaning forward. It was weird to see him outside of his normal clothing in the citadel and in casual citizen clothing. “My birthday.. Never really had anyone kinda, remember or well celebrate it”

The room was quiet as everyone shared small glances as tears started to fall again. Gladio reached over pulling you into a strong hug. “Well… you have us and we are going to every year no matter what y/n” Gladio said kissing the top of your head. You couldn't help but break down into a mess again but this time it was with a laugh rubbing your eyes trying to be happy. For once this was a happy birthday with everyone close to you and with love. For once… it wasn't forgotten, it was remembered. For once, you didn't dread this day, for once you looked forward to it excited for once.

#xreader #ffxv #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #regis lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #prompto argentum #iris amicitia #reader #birthday #feels #this was something i need cause i am a mess

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starswornoaths · 5 years

Text

Ever a Seneschal, Ne’er a Princess (4/4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Serella volunteers at this year’s Little Ladies’ Day event, same as all the years preceding it. Being urgently called by the sultana, however, is a first:

Or:

These two are dummies, diabetes inducing sap ensues, and finally, everything comes together and I bait a follow up *cough*

Word count: 7,427 (I’m so sorry I clearly can’t just get to the point with these two ;-; )

Another spring brought with it another Little Ladies’ Day celebration— and with that celebration came volunteer work. Unlike much of the go-here-do-this busywork she had been given in the years since she took up adventuring, however, Serella volunteered willingly for such work.

There was enjoyment to be had in the simplicity of helping set up decorations for the festivities— and a strangely domestic type of cameraderie between everyone who participated because of it that she genuinely enjoyed; it helped remind her of why she fought as hard as she did for the realm in gentler, warmer ways. By the time preparations had been complete and they were all changing into their suits, the seneschals were all laughing and bantering, and the mood was already jovial. The suits were more or less the same as they had always been, which was fine; it meant she could simply slip into the same one from last year that way. When the Chief Seneschal began to pass out baskets of the favors meant to be handed out, Serella couldn’t help but be curious as to what they might be as she waited for hers.

This year’s favor that was to be handed out was quite different from offerings other years: braided flower crowns. When she was handed a cloth lined wicker basket laden with the hand made crowns, she found herself a bit taken aback; previous years had seen simple things with flowers; a corsage, a hairpin, a bracelet, always something that was quick to make and easy to stick on someone. This was more elaborate. More...personal.

She hated that a part of her wanted one.

It was silly— and a waste on her besides, seneschal that she was. She hadn’t been a princess in decades, what good would it do for her to have one? As quickly as her heart melted at the thought of being presented with one she forced it to harden again: if she was so smitten with a flower crown, she could go braid herself one. She knew how; she’d braided flowers with Ysale, once, even.

Ah, Serella realized the source of the blooming, bittersweet warmth in her chest; she had not thought of flower crowns since she had found wild stems of Lily of the Valley and vines of Forget-Me-Nots in the Forelands and placed a braided crown of them on Ysale’s head. Before that, she had not thought of it since childhood, but seeing Lady Iceheart so despondent at the revelation that she was not, in fact, Shiva reborn but some dark shadow of her own want to be, Serella had felt moved to at least try to comfort her.

Better she leave such niceties in the past where they belonged, she decided as she spied Uthengentle taking up his own basket of crowns and grinning smugly at her from over his shoulder. In response, she tapped two fingers below her eyes and scrunched her face as she pointed them towards him. Victory would not be obtained while she ruminated on melancholic nostalgia, after all.

As the morning wore on and princess came and went, however, Serella’s first inclination that something was afoot was, incidentally, when Uthengentle began to lose their annual friendly competition to see which of the two of them were the better seneschal.

He had never lost to her! In all the years they had done this together, he’d been the one to thoroughly and decisively out-perform her as a seneschal! Oh there had been times where she had pulled ahead momentarily, but he often rallied himself to outmatch her in all manners gentlemanly and chivalrous the moment he realized he had fallen behind. Hildibrand himself would be proud, if he saw how gallant and graceful her brother was in his duties.

But when she began to attract a larger crowd than he, with little ladies actively passing him by for her, her suspicions were instantly raised.

Still, there were princess to escort and assist, and she would rise to the occasion with or without her brother’s fierce competition; as much fun as it was to keep score, she did it for them, not her ingrained sibling rivalry. Though she wondered—and vaguely worried about—what had caused him to fizzle out even before noon, she lost track of him for how many different princesses needed assistance with dances or flower crowns or anything else that might make their day at least a little better.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when she moved to grab another flower crown for what felt like the hundredth princess in only a few short hours, she was shocked to find that the freshly refilled basket she had just gotten from one of the seneschals managing the event had simply vanished.

Had someone run off with it? Did another seneschal mistakenly take her basket? She froze for a moment, unsure of whether looking for the basket or just getting another one would be the more expedient course of action.

When she spied Uthengentle walking back to his post she was at first relieved to find someone she could ask, but when she spied a familiar basket—complete with her own green ribbon, no less!—cradled in his arms as he moved, her hackles were instantly raised. They’d never resorted to cheating before!

“Uthen!” She said in exasperation, barely refraining from stomping her feet as she drew near. “What are you doing? Those are—“

“For the little ladies, I know, I know,” Uthengentle yessed her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you get your own basket?”

“Usually, yeah,” Uthengentle agreed as he set the basket on his hip, “but you’re about to be relieved from your shift.”

She balked for a moment—when had she had a shift? And who was meant to relieve her from it?

“Wh—“

“By me.” Uthengentle said flatly. “I’m your relief shift.” He patted the linen lined side of the basket. “This is mine now.”

“Wha—“ She tried again.

"Ah, there you are, Serella!" She heard a voice she recognized as Papashan’s call out.

When she turned to greet the retired Sultansworn, still waist deep in her own confusion, she found him holding out a letter with a familiar wax seal for her to take.

"Master Papashan—"

"Your presence has been requested by Her Grace in the fragrant chambers." He handed her the letter. "Urgently, I am told."

“Well, well,” Uthengentle spoke up from behind her. “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere anyroad. I’ll take it from here, you see what the Sultana needs.”

His tone indicated that he was, somehow, a part of this whole...she didn’t even know what to call it. The Sultana needed her, “urgently,” evidently, but one look at Master Papashan told her that, “urgent,” was a relative term; she’d seen the man near panic when it was well and truly urgent, so for him to be so cavalier was...suspect.

“I don’t know what you lot are planning,” Serella groused, even as she pocketed the letter, “but I don’t trust a one of you.”

“Skepticism is a healthy thing in Ul’Dah,” Papashan mused sagely, already making his own way back to the palace.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Uthengentle conceded, though he was already nudging her by the shoulders toward the Chamber of Rule. “Now shoo, I have ladies to charm.”

“Sure thing, Thancred, I’ll just get right on that.” Serella muttered as she tried not to trudge to the nearest aetheryte shard.

Trotting her way up the steps to the Chamber of Rule she had an errant thought that perhaps she should change— she was getting odd looks as it was, a seneschal so far from the festivities, but there was naught to be done for it, she decided: if it was truly as urgent as the missive claimed, then it should be of no consequence what she wore. All she had brought with her was her armor besides.

Presenting the letter with Nanamo’s seal on it was sufficient enough to grant her entry, though she did as instructed and waited outside the fragrant chambers and waited for one of the staff to see her in. Ere long, a lady in waiting ushered her through the doors, and with a word of thanks, she stepped inside to see what was so urgent that it demanded her attention and hers alone.

“Forgive me my tardiness, Your Grace,” Serella said before she had even fully entered the fragrant chambers. “When Master Papashan approached me, I was otherwise engaged with—” she cut herself off in words and step when she realized that Nanamo was not alone at the table. “Ser Aymeric?” She blurted dumbly when her mind registered that her lover was seated beside the Sultana.

With a smile he set his dessert spoon down and stood in greeting— the perfect picture of a lord in his crisp dark suit, all clean lines and blue and gold trim and unfairly handsome, how dare he—

“‘Tis a pleasure to see you again, Warrior of Light.” He said smoothly, and not at all as though he were the very same man that she’d practically forced out the door because he was not satisfied with the amount of goodbye kisses he had given her as they parted for the day.

“Mistress Serella, how glad I am that you answered my summons,” Nanamo replied without looking up from her tart. “You have come in the middle of negotiations between myself and— Serella!” The Sultana gasped as she looked up and leapt from her chair. “I thank you for your alacrity, but what are you wearing?!”

“Err...my Seneschal attire…?” She answered hesitantly, still frozen mid-step. With a self-conscious glance down at herself, she could admit that in her hurry she had managed to make her suit more frumpled and wrinkled than it had before she’d left the event. “I thought this was urge—”

“It would not do to have a guest of the Sultanate in such a disheveled state!” Nanamo said, her aghast expression clearly theater for something else beyond Serella’s scope; the Paladin had presented before her still covered in soot from battle, and never had the Sultana so much as batted an eye before. “Oh, but I fear we might lack clothing appropriately sized for an Elezen guest…” she tapped at her chin to feign deep thought. “This will not do, not do at all…”

“I didn’t think it looked that bad…” She muttered, though sparing another glance at Aymeric’s cleanly pressed Lord Speaker attire she had certainly conceded that she looked more than a mite haggard by comparison. She thought of her chivalric coat and offered, “I...could change into my armor…?”

“In such sweltering heat?” Aymeric spoke up, a hand over his heart— and now he was sticking his toe into the theatrics, and Serella’s bafflement reached new limits. “As a gentleman, I could not abide by having one succumb to vapors for propriety’s sake— and it must be fate itself that brought us both here today—” He bent to reach behind the seat he had only just vacated to produce a box— and she knew that yellow fabric ribbon holding it as Dottie’s signature box ribbon. “—I had a delivery meant for you, but had resigned myself to not seeing you for some time.”

Hadn’t thought he’d see her, but brought the box with him to Ul’Dah, of all places? She really hoped he thought more highly of her than that. Fate indeed— or my brother, more like, she thought wryly.

“Must have been serendipity itself.” Serella blanched, even as she accepted the box with a bow of her head. “I thank you, my lord.”

“Pray think naught of it,” Aymeric replied, his smile remaining even as he returned to his seat.

“Ahh, what a splendid coincidence!” Nanamo exclaimed, returning to her seat. “Pray go and change in the guest rooms and return when you are finished— and worry not for your suit, it shall be laundered for you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but wasn’t this urgent—?” Serella tried to ask but a lady in waiting was already leading her out the door as quickly as she came in, and the Paladin was half way down the hallway before she had even registered she’d been moving at all.

Hmph. Urgent, indeed! She huffed as she was unceremoniously nudged into an empty guest room.

Once she'd crossed the room and sat the box upon the plush bed, she carefully undid the ribbon and slid the lid off— and the second she spied the ivory top and navy skirt neatly folded within the tissue paper, she realized that perhaps Aymeric had given her exactly as much credit as she deserved, not realizing this had been planned for at least a fortnight. Though to be fair...what could she have really prepared for? She had no idea or inclination that anyone had intended to participate in all of this.

With great care she removed the articles of clothing and laid them out on the bed— and when she spied black stockings at the bottom of the box, she knew damn well Dottie had included them for no other reason than because she had suggested it. There was a note scribbled on a scrap of paper beside the stockings— breezy top, light stockings, should keep you nice and cool. I look forward to hearing all about it over tea!

Serella grappled with whether she should feel flattered or foolish, but just decided she had the capacity for both as she hastily removed her suit. Folding each piece as best she could she tucked it in the box for lack of anywhere else to put it, really, and though she wobbled as she hopped into the stockings one foot at a time, she was just glad they were the right size. She half wondered if Aymeric hadn’t just grabbed a pair of her winter stockings for Dottie to reference.

The top felt cool and soft as she slipped her arms through the long sleeves and buttoned it. Thick enough to not be see through but light enough to breathe, she sighed at the temperature difference; she hadn’t realized how warm she had been under the layers of her suit. The skirt slipped over her hips and fastened just below the bust with enough room to comfortably tuck the shirt into it, as she expected. Though it fit flush against her waist, the skirt flared out at the hips and flowed rather nicely when she gave into her girlish enthusiasm and twirled on her stocking clad foot. Fits almost like it was made for me or something, she thought, though what sarcasm she might have felt was tempered greatly for how touched she was by such a gesture from so many she loved.

There was a moment where she looked into the mirror on the dresser and nearly didn’t recognize herself, and the thought was sobering. With so much of her time spent in either armor or uniform, she had almost forgotten what she looked like in clothes that, while more formal than her everyday attire, were still normal clothes. A stranger in her own skin, she scarcely knew what to feel draped in such lovely clothes— clothes commissioned for her specifically, another odd thought. How could she feign at being worthy of this, knowing how little she would be able to use it?

Because I’ll get gently berated otherwise by those who love me. Serella reminded herself, and found that reason enough. She took a moment to undo her slightly mussed hair to redo her half braid...and then a moment longer to dry her misty eyes, not wanting her kohl to smudge.

She was just glad she’d worn simple black kitten heels with her suit— they matched well enough with the rest of the ensemble, and once she’d put them back on she returned to the hallway outside the fragrant chambers to wait for permission to enter. Again.

Thankfully, she didn’t wait long this time around either, and stepped back inside a bit more hesitantly this time lest they deem something else in need of changing.

“I hope I didn’t take too long, Your Grace.” She said with a bow— half out of respect but half so she didn’t see Aymeric’s face.

His soft gasp seemed loud to her ears, and she straightened to see him watching her with wide, bright eyes. Though he did not smile his lips parted and his shoulders softened with his sigh. Despite how much cooler the top and skirt she wore now were, a peculiar heat spread across her cheeks at the near reverent way he took in the sight of her.

“Ahh, much more appropriate for an esteemed guest,” Nanamo said, and made no effort to hide the sly glee in her grin when she turned to her actual guest and asked, “would you not agree, Ser Aymeric?”

He seemed to catch himself in his reverie then, and hid his faintly flushed cheeks with a cough behind his hand. “Wholeheartedly, Your Grace,” he replied, even as his gaze never strayed from her.

“Now that I’m in attire that suits,” Serella said flatly, hoping it wasn’t obvious that her face was flushing ever darker shades of red. “I was summoned here urgently? How might I help you?”

“Urgent indeed!” Nanamo said with a decisive nod. “Ser Aymeric and myself were renegotiating trade agreements between Ishgard and Ul’Dah.” She made a grand gesture of fanning her face. “We are close to an agreement, though I fear I am beginning to wilt. I would ask that you escort the Lord Commander about the city while I rest— though I would not have him heckled and mistaken as a seneschal for the event being held.” She seemed utterly pleased with herself when she added, “Thus I did request that you change your clothes!”

Rest. Mhm. Well, call Serella convinced.

“As you will, Your Grace.” Serella said instead with another bow— for really, who was she to complain about so generous a gift as this? When she rose this time she turned to Aymeric, who had risen again from his seat. “Provided you are amenable, my lord?”

He was at her side before she had even finished asking him. With a bow and a hand over his heart he said softly, “More than, I assure you.” He offered her his arm, “shall we, Mistress?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the way those enchanting eyes of his glimmered like polished Kyanite as she threaded her arm through his. “With you, Ser Aymeric? I would go anywhere.”

***

“Alright, be honest,” Serella said once they had stepped out into the Ruby Road Exchange. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Though it doubtless beggars belief, scarcely a fortnight.” Aymeric replied easily. “Though I have your brother to thank for the idea— in fact, t’was he who approached me with the idea.”

“I suspected he was involved…” She said, and though she caught sight of the back of his head she still scowled at him. “Asshole.” She hissed at the back of his head, assured that by sibling instinct alone he would know she’d said it.

“Was this...unwelcome?” When she turned back toward her lover she found him looking worriedly at her.

“Oh— gods, no, dear one!” She leaned more into his side as they slipped through the bustling crowd. “I’m still a little dazed that it’s happening at all— and that he got so many people involved under my nose.” She pursed her lips. “While I’m certainly glad for the chance to dote on you a bit, I do wonder what his intention was behind this plot— noble as I’m sure it was.”

Though she said it teasingly, she didn’t doubt that Uthengentle had gone to such lengths for genuinely good reasons; he’d never had to resort to cheating in their past competitions, after all.

Aymeric had a peculiar look on his face then, and Serella found she couldn’t read it beyond, “debating what to divulge,” and wondered what he was thinking of this time.

“Though I might speak on his intent, I would rather he do so himself— and if the lady is not opposed, I would very much like to escort you to the festivities.”

“Escort me? Wasn’t I tasked with keeping the locals off of you, Ser Diplomatic Tourist?”

Aymeric laughed brightly, and she felt his hand move to the small of her back as they wound their way down the steps and tried to avoid the festival goers. “Be that as it may, given the holiday t’would seem meet that I be your seneschal, would it not?”

“That’s silly,” Serella dismissed. “Seneschals are for escorting—”

“Princesses, aye.” Aymeric agreed with a bow of his head. “Allow me to rephrase: might you permit me the privilege of escorting you as your seneschal for the day, then?”

“Aymeric…” She let out a huff of a laugh, already prepared to explain that she wasn’t a princess, hadn’t been since childhood, but that she greatly appreciated his company regardless. It was a well practiced bit— one she had told Uthengentle near every year for a while now— but heard the distinct sound of someone clucking their tongue in admonishment. “I haven’t been one in some time—”

“Tsk, tsk, we go through all the trouble a’ getting you out here in a dress with your beau, an’ you still regurgitate all that drivel?” Uthengentle asked as she turned to face him.

“Drivel?” Serella frowned. “Uthen...I appreciate all that you—”

“Oh I know you do; our folks didn’t raise an ingrate.” Uthengentle held up his hand. “But there’s a fine line between humility and shame. You walked past it about two decades ago.” He shook his head. “High time you stop hating yourself for other people’s perceptions of you.”

“I don’t...hate myself.” Serella argued gently but incredibly uncertainly.

“If I might interject, dear one,” Aymeric spoke up quietly. When she faced him he softly held her hand in his. “Perhaps hatred is too strong a word, though...’tis apparent you struggle with loving yourself.” After a moment of clear debate with himself, he went on, “Uthengentle...told me of your history with the holiday.”

Surprised, she spared a glance at her brother, who only shrugged unapologetically. She took no offense; her past was hardly a secret.

“I’m guessing you told him about when we were kids.”

“Yep.” Uthengentle replied, popping the, ‘p.’

Looking back to her lover she shook her head, “I’m touched that you would go to such lengths to be here, though I wouldn’t want pity to compel you—”

“Naught but love guided me— and guided all involved, lest you wonder.” Aymeric reassured her with a squeeze of her hand. “...You may not realize it, but seems almost as thought you actively punish yourself for your titles. When you have a want, you deny it for fear of it being somehow wasted, and though you do not lack self confidence, I have never once heard you speak highly of yourself as a person, even a little.”

“That’s...disliking myself?” Serella asked— out of bafflement, not anger. She had not...considered it such. “It didn’t feel like it. I was just...I was being honest about what I am.” She shrugged. “I’m an adventurer.”

“So am I, Ellie, but we’re people before we’re professionals. S’alright to want things and...you know. Shite like that.” Uthengentle said with gentle exasperation. “...Thank your man for that line, by the by. Wouldn’t have thought to put it like that.”

Serella regarded her brother— really regarded her brother, and though he hadn’t said it in any of the years preceding this one, and realized that he’d been asking her to just let herself want to be a princess when the mood struck her— that she could be both, and an adventurer besides. She had...more or less just accepted, of her own volition, that she shouldn’t, though hadn’t recent events told her that having a life outside of adventuring was worthwhile? That building an identity outside of, ‘adventurer,’ was permitted, encouraged even?

“So, err,” Uthengentle had clearly run out of steam, holding up the basket he’d taken from her. “Pick a crown, eh, and get goin’, princess. I have more ladies to impress and all that.” He spared a sidelong but meaningful glance to Aymeric. “You be the seneschal I wasn’t, you hear?”

With an expression too solemn to only be regarding Little Ladies’ Day, Aymeric nodded.

“Uthen.” Serella said quietly, and let go of Aymeric’s hand and faced her brother fully. “I’m not a little girl crying over my scars anymore.”

“...I know.” Uthengentle said in a tone that matched hers. “Doesn’t mean I won’t still fight anyone what treats you wrong. If it came to it, him included, titles be damned.” He nudged the basket in her direction again and said in a thick voice, “Go on, pick one for your seneschal to give to you so I can give up the title for good.”

Looking at how upset her brother was at the mere suggestion, she wondered if, perhaps, she had been unknowingly hurting him, too, rejecting that she was allowed to be soft and want such soft things once in a while. Had he feared he wasn’t good enough at it because of what happened when they were kids, and taken every year’s offering to be her seneschal as personal rejection that stemmed from it? This had always been such a good holiday for them both, she had thought— at least, in their adult years...

“...Next year!” She blurted.

“What?” Her brother turned his head fully in surprise.

“Next year, I’ll still volunteer.” Serella said. “But I can take a break to be...not a seneschal. Wouldn’t mind having the best seneschal around escorting me for a bit, you know.”

“Oh? Escorting yourself, then?” Uthengentle sniffed.

“Nah, that’d just be conceited. But I’d like my brother to be my seneschal next year, if that’s alright. Just for a bit.” She puffed her cheeks out. “But it doesn’t count toward your score!”

“Sure,” Uthengentle agreed, his eyes shimmering. “I’ll still beat you, though. Always do.”

“That’s because you’re the best seneschal around.” She said with a sagely nod.

“...Pick your crown, Princess Shitehead.” Uthengentle groused in a voice warbling with unshed tears.

With a smile and eyes still stinging— from her allergies, that was her excuse— she carefully picked up a crown of red and mauve flowers and held it in her hands like it was some ancient and otherworldly relic she had no business holding.

“...Thank you, Seneschal Fuckwit.”

With another nod her brother beat a hasty retreat, though she didn’t take offense; he hated her seeing him get worked up over, “sappy things,” as he’d called it. Something she could work on with him, she supposed. Only seemed right, considering how far he went for her.

That would be later— next year, I’ll get him back! She swore as she took a breath and smiled over at Aymeric. A twinge of guilt hit her nerves when she realized he’d been trying to be respectful of their familial moment, having taken a step backward and averted his gaze. In a fluid motion, however, his attention returned to her with a step to close the distance and a widening of his smile.

“Think I picked a good one?” She asked, holding out the crown for his inspection.

He spared it a cursory glance and gently took it in hand. “I would say so,” he said with a nod. Holding it out as an offering, he asked, “May I…?”

Her already flushed cheeks growing more heated, she curtsied low enough for him to softly set the crown atop her head. When she straightened he beamed like the sun itself at her.

“How does it look?” She asked, though already fiddled with her sleeve cuff before he answered. “Silly, right? It must look silly.”

“Not at all— even such red roses pale in comparison to you.” He replied with that unfairly smooth godsdamned smile of his as he bumped their noses together. “As ever, you are a vision, Ella.”

“And as ever, you’re a sap.” She hid the way her face must have resembled a rolanberry with a kiss, and was reminded of how much she loved feeling his smile against her lips.

“With you alone, rest assured. Now, then: where might we start?”

“With the festivities?” Serella hummed and tapped a finger to her chin. “We could look at the decorations while I give you the grand tour of Ul’Dah; the event is more about the seneschals than anything else these days and, well,” she fanned her lashes at him as she kissed his knuckles, “I’ve already got my favorite one.”

“I am yours to command, Mistress Arcbane.” With a sweep of his arm, he bowed.

“Ser Seneschal,” she gasped as if scandalized, “so very forward!” With a laugh she laced their finger together. “Come, I know a few places you might like.”

***

As promised, Serella showed him places within the city she thought he’d like— and eagerly answered his questions about areas of Thanalan she could take him someday. Much as she would love nothing more than to spirit him away and show him more the this corner of the realm, he was, however superficially, acting as a political delegate, and thus could not leave the city proper without appropriate cause. Just as well; the city itself was entirely new to him all the same, and even something as mundane as introducing him to Mylla and Adalberta was, in itself, an adventure, he reassured her.

“This is one of my favorite quiet spots in the whole city,” she explained once they had stepped into the cool shade of the halls branching out to the many guilds in town. They took a seat at the lip of the fountain, and she let out a blissful sigh at the muted noise of the hustle and bustle of the city. “There’s many like it, but so few people come ‘round the Alchemist’s Guild— though that’s likely for fear of running into Guildmaster Severian.”

“‘Tis quiet here,” Aymeric mused softly. “And yet...I can still hear the whole city.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite!” Serella leaned in to murmur as though it was a secret. “The fountain helps mute everything— but the opening above us where the water comes in?” When she looked upward, his eyes followed. “Also lets in the echoes from all over the city. It’s a good place to duck into that’s quiet without feeling lonely.”

“The Vault has some such places,” Aymeric mused quietly, “in the halls near where the Houses of the Lords and Commons convene. The fountains there have not frozen, but no longer run.” His voice was soft as he admitted, “I tend to duck into such places between meetings— with so little foot traffic for the cold and the snow that drifts in, ‘tis a place of great solace for me.”

With such soft thoughts of muted sanctuaries, Serella’s imagination ran rampant with visions of her bringing lunch or tea for them to share in such places. Though sheltered, such places with open ceilings were doubtless still cold. They might press together— if she brought a blanket, or perhaps one of her fur lined cloaks, they might huddle together as they sipped. Moments of crystalline domesticity formed aching fractals in her mind�� and ah, but it should perhaps worry her that the mundane had become fantasy.

“If it would not disturb you,” she spoke up before she could stop herself. “I might bring tea or something for you to take for lunch.” She shrugged. “I’d had half a thought to anyway whenever I was home, though I feared disturbing you between meetings.”

“Please disturb me so regardless,” he implored, cradling her hand with both of his. “Seeking respite as I might be, there is no peace I could find quite so soothing or so deep than by your side.”

Flatterer, the affectionate term pressed against her teeth but she swallowed it— she refused to ruin what felt an importantly tender moment.

“Tea and a blanket, then?” She suggested. “Maybe with lunch?”

“Just you would be more than enough.” When he caught sight of her blush he leaned to kiss her cheek. “Your company is more than enough— pray do not think aught else is needed for me to be the happiest man alive.”

“Right, sorry!” She shook her head with a laugh. “I try not to get carried away with such things, but sometimes my imagination gets away from me.” Ignoring the way her cheeks flushed she pointed at the flowers atop her head. “I blame the season, really. Makes me a bigger sap than normal. And really, I must look silly, rambling about such things in a flower crown like a mewling maid—”

“I would marry you in such soft splendor.” Aymeric said so softly she nearly missed it.

They both froze. He hadn’t meant to say as much out loud. She had simply not been expecting such a declaration.

Though the idea of marriage had been discussed near a year ago, it was more regarding the concept of marriage itself, and the hypothetical of them being married was only tangential. At the time, she had told him marriage was, “nice but not necessary—” and though she still held that belief in regard to the intimacy of their relationship not needing marriage to be as deep as it was, she could see it had merit. With her life as uncertain and treacherous as it was, to know that there would be no doubt as to what would happen to her pets, to their home, in the event of the darkness catching up to her would be an immense comfort.

And...well. She had decided some time ago that she would spend her forever with him, for so long as he wanted the same.

Aymeric’s eyes were wide with something akin to muted panic, and she realized that though there was only a moment’s silence it had doubtless been mistaken for her answer. She lowered her eyes demurely to watch the flower petals float gently in the fountain.

“I don’t think—” Serella felt him tense when she spoke haltingly. “—the church would let me wear a flower crown.”

Lifting her gaze to regard him with a sidelong and bashful smile she couldn’t help but giggle at the rare befuddlement that he gaped at her with. He looked at her as though he had not thought she would ever agree to marry him— had she done that, too, refusing to want for things as she had?

“No?” His voice cracked with his bewilderment. He cleared his throat and quietly admitted, “I, ah, I do not know what requirements the church would have for a ceremony.”

“Nor do I.” She leaned more full against him with a sigh. “I’m sure we’ll find out later.”

“Together, I should hope.”

“Naturally.”

She felt his smile when he kissed the top of her head— though that was followed by a huff of annoyance ruffling her hair when his linkpearl chimed. Knowing it for the call to return to the palace as it doubtless was, Serella sat up and pulled away from him.

“Ser Aymeric.” He answered with a finger pressed to his linkpearl. Though she could not hear the other voice from the caller, the way his expression fell gave away that she had guessed correctly. “Of course, I shall be there at once.”

“Duty calls?” She chanced, even as she knew the answer.

“As ever.” He answered in a tone that suggested he was trying not to grouse.

“T’would not be a day ending in ‘y,’ othewise!” Serella gave a laugh and stood. “Come, I’ll escort you back to the palace— I need my suit back, regardless.”

When she offered him her hand and wiggled her fingers he offered her a wincing smile as he accepted and stood. She paused mid step when he gently squeezed her hand and did not move.

“Ella,” he called to her around a thick swallow. With a breath, he tried again, “much of my time is already claimed by bureaucracy and politics. Such is the nature of the path I have chosen.”

“I know.” She reminded him.

“That...that does not mean, however, that I will not take what time I can and make it yours.”

“Make it ours, instead.” She shrugged and offered him a wide smile. “I like it better that way.”

Her words soothed the pinch out of his smile.

“Ours.” He promised, though his eyes were still clouded when he continued, “though I fear such time will be minimal— I know not when I would even be able to get away for something such as this again. But any chance I have to do so, I will.”

“I don’t want to be an obligation, dear one. I only ask you do so as often as you like.”

“Then my vow does not change.” He brought her hand to his and kissed her knuckles. “’Tis as I said: naught but love compelled me to be here.”

Ahh, but this conversation was familiar to her— though with a different context and a different sort of love. That it was some decade and a half past was of no consequence: Serella remembered a certain Captain Seneschal speaking to her in the same hushed, regrettable tone that something out of his control but a direct result of the life he led left little chance for them to have such a sweet day together. Though she herself was the Captain now and her Lord Commander didn’t need a cane this was no less loving, no less important. She was only sorry they would not meet in this life, Aymeric and her Da. That was alright, too, though; she’d tell him all about it later. Right now, in this moment with their hands intertwined she confirmed what had known for some time: that if there was a single soul on this star she would share forever with, it would be his.

“Now look who’s being silly.” Serella breathed a huff of laughter. “There’s so little of myself I can promise to you— you know that.” He nodded. “Our obligations have always come first because they must, but that doesn’t mean we can’t create our own happiness. That we try at all is what matters.”

“I fear you will grow tired of waiting for my availability.” He admitted with a wince— as if he had not taken every effort to be hers. “I worry I am denying you greater happiness elsewhere.”

“Ridiculous.” She replied. She leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth— for how else could she nurture the wilting smile that sat there? His smile bloomed when she asked rhetorically, “for who could I love but you?”

***

Though being mother to not only one, but two Warriors of Light made visits with her children difficult, Myrina was still never surprised when either of them stopped by for a visit.

So when she heard a knock on her door just as her kettle began to whistle, she merely smiled and pulled a second cup from her cabinet— she measured the cadence of the raps on her door: four, equally spaced apart. Serella was paying her a visit this time.

Sure enough, her daughter stood in her entryway brushing off what dusting of snow had gathered on her shoulders.

“Evening, Ma!” Serella greeted. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Don’t be ridiculous— I’m your mother...and retired, besides!” She tutted, ushering her daughter inside. “I half expected to hear from Uthen; always calls to brag about how the festivities went and all.” She shook her head distractedly as they moved further into the house. “But here we are, but a week on after Little Ladies’ Day, and not a peep! I presumed he was still tending his wounded pride.”

“His first loss to me as Seneschal!” Serella beamed. “He took it with grace when we tallied everything up at the end. I would have been an ass had I gloated.”

“Did you?”

“...Privately.”

Though they shared a laugh, Myrina couldn’t help but worry when she saw how distracted her daughter looked even through the smiles and laughter— had something happened?

“How are you, Ella?” She asked instead.

“Hm?” Her daughter blinked widely as though she hadn’t been prepared to be asked that question— odd, given that she had come for a visit. Every motherly instinct that Myrina had instantly told her that there was something wrong. “Oh, I’m alright, Ma.” Serella promised. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“You could never— though you already asked that,” Myrina admonished gently, already ushering her into the den. “Kettle just went off— tea?”

“No thank you.” Serella replied, and Myrina noticed her hands were fidgeting.

For her daughter to decline tea...was she ill? Had she been hurt? Had someone hurt her?

“What happened?” She asked stonily. Even as she asked, the retired Dragoon winced; she knew her overprotective nature regarding her children was silly, grown as they were now.

It didn’t prevent her from devolving into a snarling wyrm ready to tear the flesh of those who wronged them asunder.

“Nothing,” her daughter reassured her, at last having her focus honed. “Nothing, I swear— or at least—” fidgeting hands again. Myrina prayed to Halone that no one had upset or tried to hurt her little girl to make her fret so. That she was a near fulm taller and built like a mountain did not matter, Myrina would demand blood regardless. “Nothing bad, please stop glaring a hole into the wall, Ma.”

Myrina hadn’t even realized she’d been doing it, though her daughter’s words did much to put her at ease.

“Well, what’s this all about, then?” She asked, hands on her hips. “You’ve not even taken your coat o—”

“Are you familiar with societal standards for Ishgardian courtship?” Serella blurted.

Though not surprised, Myrina wondered where this was going— and what had prompted it to begin with.

“As much as one like myself can be, yes.”

“I— I debated coming to you about it. I wasn’t sure if it would bring up unpleasant memories or not, speaking of Ishgardian courtship and expectations.” Serella explained, stumbling over her words. “Then I realized that what you know might just be outdated— no offense, Ma— so I wasn’t even sure whether I should ask you or go to Lord Edmo—”

“Serella.” Myrina cut off her rambling as gently as she could manage. Even before she had snapped her mouth closed and blinked owlishly at her it was clear that her daughter was having, admittedly funny, troubles in the area of romance. “Ishgard is changing, but like a great many things, society changes slowly. Courtship rituals are largely the same, from what I have observed.”

“Alright...good, that’s a start.” Serella nodded to herself. “And did you? Court anyone, I mean? Before Da?”

“A knight or two,” Myrina replied coolly, and resisted the urge to puff her chest out just a little when she added, “I was no noble by birth, though that hardly made a difference to the squires and the like.”

“Was marriage ever discussed?”

“Ella...what do you really want to know?” Myrina frowned. “What is this about?”

“Is it...would it be inappropriate,” Serella began slowly, “if I were to ask a lord to marry me?”

“‘A lord,’ she says, as if I wouldn’t know who,” Myrina scoffed, even as she smiled and shook her head. “Not inappropriate at all— knights propose to one another often, my dear.”

“But he’s the Lord Commander!” Serella blurted. “And the Lord Speaker, and the viscount of his house!”

“And you are the Warrior of Light, Slayer of Nidhogg, Captain of the Lominsan Maelstrom, and bearer of a dozen other titles I’m forgetting in my old age.” Myrina gently reminded her. “And he’s smitten with you besides.” She patted her daughter’s hand and led her toward the table. “And though it wouldn’t be inappropriate for you to ask, there’s still a way you need to do it— come, let’s plan this out, my dear. Honey with your tea?”

Finally, her Ella released the tension in her shoulders and smiled. Shucking her cloak and hanging it up, she moved to sit at the table. Cups duly sat upon saucers and pen and parchement laid out upon the table, Serella listened to Myrina’s guidance, and her trembling hand began to form her petition.

#I am as ever your shield #Serella Arcbane #Aymeric de Borel #Uthengentle Arcbane #I've been sitting on this bc Serella was randomly like 'you know that time I proposed to Aymeric before 4.5?'#so I just sort of #had to figure out how tf that happened #this seemed an easy way to introduce it!#\o/#anyway here's one of the things I needed to write pre-ShB #I hope you like it!

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dailyaudiobible · 5 years

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08/21/2019 DAB Transcript

Job 1:1-3:26, 1 Corinthians 14:1-17, Psalms 37:12-29, Proverbs 21:25-26

Today is the 21st day of August. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I’m Brian. It's great to be here with you today as we continue our journey through this week and as we continue the steps that take us through the entire Bible in a year. And, so, here we are at the threshold of a brand-new book in the Old Testament and we’re kind of gonna change complexions here now for the next little bit. We’re going to be exploring some of some of the darker parts of our lives, some of the pain of our lives and we’ll begin that journey with the next book that we’re moving into, the book of Job.

Introduction to the book of Job:

And Job, you know, and for that matter Ecclesiastes, which comes next, these…these books are about the difficulties of…of life. And, so, they kind of have a reputation. And so, when we get to this point in the Bible, this is some of my favorite parts of the Bible because the Bible becomes a friend and a companion in these kinds of seasons and normally when we’re in these kinds of seasons we go to the Bible to find the verses that will tell us that that it’s gonna be over soon and it's going to be awesome, right? We’re looking for words of comfort, which is totally fine, but normally we’re trying to escape what's happening instead of actually staying in it and being in it and inviting God into it without having any need to be false, without having any need to put frosting on top…like…to allow it to be what it is. And, so we’re about to begin the book of Job. So, let’s just get kind of get our bearings. So, Job is, I mean, historically, one of the most beautiful pieces of literature in the Bible and for that matter in all of history. And it’s a work that very poetically deals with the problem of evil and of suffering. It's as if Job is ultimately asking, “why me? Like, why is this happening to me?” And then…and then wrestling for an answer to that question. So, when scholars try to figure out like, where did this story, where did Job come from, who was Job, then there's a lot of dispute because there’s really not any historical context, and the book doesn't really name anything that's historical or any kind of historical figures that are known, like that could be searched from other directions. And, so, when you don't have context then you have conjecture, you have to guess, which makes lots of people guess in lots of directions. And, so, you have disputes despite this. Scholars have come to a lot of consensus that Job may be of the most ancient books in the Bible and this happens for a lot of reasons. Even Jewish tradition has disparities, but some scholars believe that because the Hebrew is archaic in the original manuscripts and because there's a uniqueness of words, like Job uses Hebrew words that are nowhere else in the whole Bible, that Job may have been contemporary with a patriarch like Abraham, or maybe Jacob. And then others believe that Job was written by maybe a scribe that was coming back from exile whose native tongue, even though they were Hebrew, they had been exiled, so their native language wasn't Hebrew. And then many follow tradition that Job was written or at least collected by Moses. And if Moses wrote this book then he would be like writing an oral tradition that had been passed down for millennia or maybe…maybe he was writing theology on dealing with suffering and pain as a parable. So, you see like there’s…it's so old and there’s so few clues that it cannot be pinned down. This isn’t the only book in the Bible that’s like that and we'll talk about that as we go forward. But as we moved to through this book we’ll be dealing with the question of basically undeserved suffering and we’ll see that Job feels very, very much like he is experiencing undeserved suffering. And his friends are gonna come around him and they're gonna help…they’re gonna try to help Job find the answers. And the interesting thing is that Job's friends, as they’re giving advice to their friend who’s hurting, it's not bad advice, like it's valid advice. It's the kind of advice we might be giving to a friend who’s suffering as well only to find out in the end that all of their good advice, as good as it might've been, they did not know at all what they were talking about. And, so, we’ll discover that as we’re shaking our fist at the sky, we’re demanding our answers for our suffering and then contrast that with…with the glory of God…that words fail…like…there's nothing to say. God's glory is infinite. His…His power is unknowable. His…His beauty is indescribable. It's only God who can sustain our lives, but when we’re suffering, we’re usually asking why and we can’t always find an answer to that question, at least not immediately. And, so, the more that we demand the answers the more we become aware that we’ve…we’ve kind of put ourselves in a position of the highest judge, even to the point that we get angry and judge God, which is an incredibly scary thing to say and an even more scary thing to do even though we’re all guilty of it. So ultimately we’ll find that we can spend our whole lives looking for these answers. And I’ve spent lots of my life looking for these answers. But life has this way of leading us back to this same place, a precipice, where we have to take a deep of faith. Like at some point we can spend our whole life trying to find answers or we can spend our whole life trying to find God, which is what Job is trying to do and that distinction makes a huge difference in the outcomes of things and our understandings of things. And, so, with that, let's begin. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week and we will read the first three chapters of the book of Job.

Commentary:

Okay. So, we began the book of Job, we read the first three chapters. So, we’re kind of launched into the predicament, right, so the situation that Job found himself in, which will be the theme of all the exploration and conversation that happens next. So, Job has a day like no other day, like no other day I have ever heard of in anyone's life, right? So, systematically…and Job was a highly influential, highly respected, highly prosperous person, highly visible person. And, so, he had a lot of things going on and in one day, systematically, it all fell apart, right, from his flocks being raided and his servants being killed all the way to the wind that came out of the desert and blew on the four corners of his oldest son's house, killing all of his children. It’s like one thing after the other and we all have probably said that, “like it's one thing after the other” but not like Job, right? So, that puts some things into context because one thing after the other happened to him until by the end of the day everything is gone. What's riveting, and this is one of the most riveting things in the Bible to me. Like when we get here every year, I stand in awe of a couple of things that happen in Job but one of them today because…because it's the worst day imaginable…like I literally do not even know how to imagine that kind of day that Job had…I mean with…with the culmination being the death of his children. So yeah, I mean it's…it's like…if anybody had any right at all to be bitter at this point its Job. Like, he has every right to be angry and confused and upset and just ranging but he doesn't. He does tear his clothes. He does through ashes and dirt on his head and up in the air. He does all of that and that that's customary. We do different things, but he has every right to do what he's doing, but after he did all of the rituals that showed that he was grieving and morning he…he sat down and worshiped God. “Naked I came into this world, naked I will return. The Lord gave the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” What’s so riveting about that is just, I mean, when I face disruption, I might be able to stay in that place for five minutes and I have a faced anything like Job faced. So, like, we can all say that. Like we should all stand around this global campfire thinking of this predicament that Job's in in awe because of his response, because of the posture of his heart. And Job's gonna want to know why God's letting this happen to him or for that matter he thinks God is doing this to him and he wants to know that. But where Job begins that journey, like where he begins to explore that question is in worship and that is striking. So, we met some of Job's friends today. They came after they heard about the tragedy. And, so, they came and we’re gonna be…they're gonna be with him the rest of this journey. And so, we’ll get to know them, we’ll get to know their voices but it's really interesting what they did when they came, right? So, they came and they saw Job and they saw, wow, it may even be worse than we've heard and they wept aloud and they all tore their clothes and they threw dust in the air and on their heads. And then they sat down. They sat down with Job who was sitting down, and they sat down with him for seven days and nights and nobody said anything because they saw how bad he was suffering. And this is Shiva, this is the sitting Shiva, this is an an ancient Hebrew tradition, this is how you grieve. And it’s such a different practice then the way that we mostly grieve, right? So, if we’re grieving and our friends come over to us, then they’re gonna sit with us and they're gonna try to say things that will make us feel better, “it’s gonna be okay, I'm sorry for your loss” or like these kind of things, try to engage in allowing the person to emote, “get it out” right? Whereas Shiva is a little different. Shiva is when you offer your presence, not your words. Like, you offer yourself, not how you can, you know, say something to make it all go away. You're acknowledging, this horrible, this is unspeakable, this is…there are no words. And, so, you offer your presence and you sit and when the grieving one wants to speak then you speak. And when the grieving one wants to be silent then you be silent. You just are simply physically making your presence there. They are not alone. They are surrounded but they are not expected to deal with you or to agree with you or all the things that you're saying because we enter grief really in an uncomfortable situation. And, so, we don't really know what to say, when very very ancient practice is that you don’t have to say anything. You just have to be together, offer presence. Your words aren’t going to fix it. You don’t have the magic words that are gonna take the loss away or the pain away, but being willing to enter into it and be in it with the one you love, that means more than words. So, we’re just out of the gate but there’s already a lot for us to consider. There's already so much there that's just sitting there for us to ponder.

Prayer:

Father we invite You into this next season, this next section of the Scriptures that we are entering into because we have come to this point in the Bible and You’re about to force us to get really honest about a lot of things and we need that because we mask just about everything and we’re hiding in so many ways and You are giving us permission to be honest. So, come Holy Spirit into these next weeks as we move through this territory we pray. In the mighty name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Song:

Blessed Be the Name of the Lord – Brent Bourgeois

May the day perish on which i was born, may the stars of its morning be dimmed. Why is life given to the bitterness of souls, and to those who stand in anger of HIM? Oh HE pierce my heart, and HE does not pitty HE rakes me with wound upon wound. Remember I pray, that YOU have made me out of clay, and YOU will return me to dust again soon. Oh naked I came from my mother's womb, naked I shall return. All the LORD gave, the LORD has taken away, Blessed be the name of the LORD! He commands the sun and it does not rise, HE treads on the waves of the sea

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eorzeasntm · 6 years

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Hi everyone! Last week our models battled to the death with the primals. Our intrepid Warriors of Light risked life and limb for some of the best battle shots we’ve seen in the history of the competition.

The ever present threat against Eorzea, primals are our primary foe. How are you keeping Eorzea (or Doma or Yanxia) safe from these menaces?

However, even though everyone did a great job this week (and gave the judges and the community absolute fits - the rankings were all over the place), only one model emerged from the pile of corpses with the best overall score by a mere third of a point:

Rymmrael Bhaldraelwyn

Congratulations! Not even Ramuh’s beard can stand up to your fierce display of paladin strength. Time for a shave and a haircut, primal!

The next round of ENTM Tumblr Cycle 10 will hopefully be posted sometime before midnight EST on Friday, October 12th - assuming Michael stays far, far away.

Please check below for feedback from our judges.

A note from Kat: Models, please know that if you have any questions or want clarification from a judge on a critique, you are welcome to DM them from the Discord channel. Often when the round is this excellent the decisions come down to tiny nit picks, so a suggestion for how a shot could have been improved is not always the same thing as a low vote in the ranks. You could be a judge’s favorite that week and they’ll still have something to say that could have made it even more amazing.

Judge Kusuh

Hey all! Just as a note: these critiques are being written on the road due to a major life move! These may be a bit shorter, but as always, feel free to reach out me with any clarifications!

Ni’ko: Colored marker is an *amazing* color choice for this picture! Everything about this picture adds to it in an amazing way: the dark sun in the back center drawing the shot together, the line connecting you and Ifrit, the ice shards adding sharp edges to the frame of the shot; everything adds something! Here’s my caution though: this picture walks that very thin line between enough and *too much*. While everything in a shot can have a purpose, there is such a thing as overloading a frame, even if you believe it’s all necessary! I want you to keep an eye on that in the coming weeks, making sure to really keep an editorial eye on what you do.

Cowbot: The deadly slice of Odin gives me some maaajor flashbacks to the DPS checks of that fight when it came out, so I’m glad you were able to catch it in a much more showy and epic light! I believe the cinema frame here was a good choice, it’s like the climax of a movie! Now, here’s something I’ve noticed in a few of your shots, including this one: you are a lalafell, and therefore you are shorter then most of your fellow models. This is going to produce unique challenges, mostly in terms of visibility. In this shot, while the look and effect is great, I’m having a hard time seeing you! For the future, I want you to try zooming in a lot more! See what you can get from a different perspective.

Ysildor: I very much appreciate the choice of color and use of the tools available to you in gpose, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into what you need to do to make the shots as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Here’s what I’m noticing this week: the shot feels a little crowded to me. This mostly comes from the fact that while you are clearly engaged in combat with Odin, the fact that you two overlap on different planes makes me wonder exactly where you are looking and aiming your attacks. Whereas I commonly ask others to zoom in, I’d like to see what you can do with a wider shot in the weeks to come! Let’s see how you do with much more room to work with.

Judge Vederah

Azalea: Stylistically there's some pretty neat things happening here. I love how you put some thought into the glamour you wore for this particular shoot- helps your character fit in with the shot and helps with the narrative. I also like how both you and the primal are super imposed over one another. His might may be looming over you, but the ferocity in the characters expression shows where the true power lies. However, the picture is so over saturated with blue and green hues that you lose a large portion of the primal's shape and a lot of the details on the floor for that mechanic. Perhaps a different filter, or less direct lighting would've helped. Lily: I love how crisp and clear this image is- like almost to the point where it looks like a screenshot from a cut scene. How your character is positioned in relation to the primal makes it feel like they're actively engaged in battle. I also really like the contrast between your character's blue hued armor against the warmer toned backdrop and Ifrit. It's a really well composed shot- and the only thing I could point out as maybe something to change would be to scoot the shot a touch more to the left so it's more centered.

Rymm: I love the pink and deep blue tones of this shot- and how you matched your glamour to it. It's always important that your character fits into the settings. I also really like the angle of the shot and how it directs the eye over to Ramuh who is just being completely surrounded by that amazing lightning graphic. I think the only con to this image is that it's a little dark around the edges. So much so that it almost makes the image as a whole too muted. If the lighting was a touch brighter, those amazing colors would've popped even more- making this image mindblowingly good.

Judge M’Telihgo

Wren: I want to start by saying how much I absolutely adored your picture from last week. You were front and center and in the irrefutable focus of your picture. That picture was you and everyone knew it. Why? Partly you are in the center part of your picture, we always start there when looking at an image. You are the only thing that is blue. We can see your beautiful face, you should show it to us much more often, you are very pretty! I’m sorry Wren, I cannot say the same things for this week. It helps that you are the only thing in white, it really does so +1 for you. I’m kinda sad that I cannot see your face this week. I also have pink hair and thanks to a request by my bf, I am using the same hairstyle right now. I would love to see how your face looks with it too. A slightly different camera angle to focus on you a little more and show your face could be just what you need! Shiva commands much more of the area of this picture than you do. Neither one of you are facing the camera and that would help your image too. I can tell you are trying, and you do get credit from me. This next round is for a close up, please, let me see how awesome you look in that!!

Ona: Your picture also suffers from your face being obscured. Taken from the opposite side, much more of your face would be visible since the hairstyle is asymmetrical. I like the effect, it does look like you are fighting Garuda, you lined it up well. Unfortunately, it leaves you in a weird pose that I feel detracts from your image. I do think a different outfit may have helped you some too. You skin tone doesn’t pop against the blue background, it makes you blend a little bit and since your armor is light and has a low coverage it takes some focus away from you. I like the lighting on Garuda, it makes her look like she has some depth to her and that is also something that you lack because of the pose the action left you in. Again, it’s a nice pose and it works well for the action part, just not so much for the you part. Keep at it, I know you will get there.

Judge Rongi

Adam: This week you really used contrasting colors to your advantage. I love the colors in this shot! This pencil filter was a genius choice because not only does it make the background look fantastic, it also made you look like youre straight out of a comic book. You look amazing in this shot, but one of the hard things about taking screenshots with mobs is getting them to also look good. Garuda has a lot of appendages, and as such, if she isnt in the right position, she can become a confusing mess. If Garuda had looked like she does in Ona's shot in your shot, I think this picture would have been much stronger.

James: Normally I do not like these portrait style shots, but both you and Haila really pulled out some great shots with it. While you both pulled it off very well here, I think where you faltered in comparison is by not doing a back shot. In the shot you submitted it looks like you are summoning the Pheonix yourself, a lot like Azalea did as well, but I think it would have been stronger if you had been facing the Phoenix. Many models this week are facing away from the primals, but the way they are positioned makes them still seem engaged with them in battle. The Pheonix's wings are also cut off at the tips, which I dont think a horizontal shot would have fixed because then we couldn't have seen you either. I didnt rank you low, but I wanted to explain why I didn't rank you super high.

Nadede: Wow! This shot is amazing. I love the color contrast, the pose of both of you, the way you fit like a puzzle piece into the silhouette of Leviathan, everything. I feel like you went for something less flashy, and it totally paid off. I wish we could see more of a weapon, where your hand is being cut off at a strange place, but not focusing on that, only looking between you and Leviathan, i think this shot is great. Wonderful job.

Judge Kai

Chee: Good job with the setup of this image. I love that you’re dominant, and I can see you clearly! Also, you were very smart to wear lighter clothes, seeing that the ground and sky are much darker. It makes you pop without needing to force it. The lighting is also lovely, and I love how dramatic it looks on your face. Concept wise, I see what you were going for but it seems more like you’re getting ready to flee than actually face this menace. Also, the outfit you chose to wear, while great color-wise, is a bit off where it pops out with the knee. Unfortunately, SE didn’t map these outfits to fall naturally when turning and having such a pose, so it ends up just popping straight out and leaves my eye wondering what exactly your body is doing. Overall, love the lighting and I see what you were going for but I don’t think it quite got there. As for the outfit, kudos on picking a color that makes you stand out, but from the waist down it’s just not working for me.

Haila: First off I will say this… that is a beautiful shot, and I love that you made it a long shot and not a wide. It really gives you the height to show how massive this creature really is! That said, concept-wise I’m not sure if it comes off as facing a foe. It seems more like you’re summoning it, and you’re the for about to lay waste to a bunch of innocent people (which hey, I’m not against this because it’s awesome looking). Nice job on the lighting, and on picking an outfit that makes you pop. As for the back to the camera, I’ve always said I'm not fond of it unless it really adds something to the image, and I’m not sure if this really adds to it. Overall it’s an awesome picture, you pop and have nice lighting. Seeing Levi fly out of the water like that is amazing… but I’m just not sure it really follows the concept, as well as some of the others, did.

Lantis: This looks like a battle shot, and I love how you have yourself leaping into the air to meet your foe head-on. Concept wise, I’ll say you hit it pretty much dead on. I’ll also say that it was smart for you to use the glowing weapons and that arc of light under you to attract the eye. If you didn’t have those bright color to pull the eye to you, I don’t think this would have worked as well as it does. The image does come off very dark, and your clothes almost blend into the background without the help of the light around you. If you’d somehow made this image a bit lighter, or have worn something that popped a bit more I think it would have helped your character become more dominant in the image. Overall I think this is a great setup, and the concept is spot on, but the darkness of the image leaves you dependent on bright pops of color to attract the eye instead of your character.

#entm tumblr cycle 10 #ffxiv #entm

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moonraccoon-exe · 6 years

Note

How about 13 - “Who did this?”

[Send me a number from this list of prompts, and I’ll write a Corqi drabble for it.]

KIT! *glomps* Kit, hi! Thank you for dropping a prompt! I’m sorry it took this long, but- you know, what I thought would be 500 words turned to 2,400 lol. I WAS SO TRIGGERED. I had many ideas but ended up flipping it upside-down and this turned out.

I guess it must be some sort of fantasy-ancient times AU, y’know, what with the subject treated. Heck was this fun. Adding a read more at some point.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of attempted sexual assault.

Hope you like it!

“Who didthis?”

Cor’s eyestraveled from gaze to gaze, from face to face, slowly, taking his timeanalyzing each face of each man that stood before him. He calmly paced fromside to side while looking at each soldier, attentive. The silence was thick.

“The godshave mercy on the bastard that’s too coward to admit his disgusting acts” theMarshal said and stopped in his spot, hands behind himself, as he glared ateach soldier. “Not admitting it will only make things worse for him when I findout who did this, because the gods know I will find out” Cor growled. “No, fuckthe gods, you all know perfectly fine that I will find out who it was, and when I do it’s going to get bad for that pathetic bastard. So you better come out right now; I’m going to giveyou one more opportunity, and Shiva have mercy on your soul if you don’t takeit.”

Cor lookedbehind himself again, lowering the head to lie his gaze on the man sat againstthe wall.

“That youngman that the empire of Niflheim gifted to the household of His Royal Majesty ofLucis as a token of appreciation and peace…” Cor started saying and turned tolook at the soldiers again. “The token of peace that the empire gifted to thekingdom, beaten up, disheveled, and ruined, before he’s even reached Lucisitself!”

Cor loweredthe head and his frown deepened, glaring with intensity at each soldier.

“Who didthis?”

It tooklong, and right as Cor was about to talk again, a soldier in the crowd liftedthe hand.

“It was me,Marshal.”

Cor askedthe soldier to come to the front; the soldier’s mouth was swollen and bleedingslightly, but as curious as he was, Cor did not question him. After some publicthreats and sending him to his quarters of camp, Cor dismissed all thesoldiers, who saluted and marched away, trying to not hurry so to not showtheir absolute fear for the Marshal.

Aftereveryone was gone, Cor untensed and turned around again, getting closer to and goingdown on a knee nearby the blond Nif.

“I am soprofoundly sorry, sir, if I knew I had men like that among the escortingtroops…” Cor said much more gently and softly. The Nif looked at him as if notunderstanding how he had suddenly transformed from the frightening soldier tothis soft gentleman.

Cor reachedfor the little box that he had taken with himself earlier and that he had lefton the floor, and opened it. He mixed a few liquids and soaked a little cloth init.

“I can’tapologize enough, I cannot believe someone dared attack our Niflheim guest likethis…” he said while trying to reach for the other’s face. The young man,before Cor could touch him, snapped the head to another side and smacked hishand away. Cor waited until the blond calmed. “It’s okay. This is to healyou. I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. Do you allow me?”

The blondman glared at him for some moments. His upper lip twitched, like an animalthreatening the enemy, but his eyes seemed to hesitate.

After a few seconds, henodded.

Cor whispered ‘Thank you’, and proceeded to press the cloth tothe Nif’s injured eye. The ‘gift’ hissed in pain; Cor apologized, and tried tobe more gentle as he smeared the potion on his injury.

Both stayedquiet; the longer that Cor spent caressing his swollen eye, the more the Nifseemed to relax, but he still stayed tense and apparently alert.

“Iapologize, sir, this shouldn’t have happened” the Marshal murmured again, clearlyashamed, while he continued treating the injury. “I don’t know what he wasthinking. What he thinks he gains with starting a fight-“

“He didn’tstart the fight. I did.”

Cor stoppedcaressing his wound and looked at the Niflheimian to the eyes. Besides some mutters,this was the first time Cor heard his voice properly since they picked him from the Emperor’s palace. It was terrifyingly nice,if piercing with some poison. The younger man glared at him and his frowndeepened the longer Cor stared.

“What?”

“He triedto abuse of me.”

The Marshalblinked, taken off-guard twice in a row, and stared at the blond in silence.Both stared at each other, one trying to understand, and the other merelyglaring.

“Abuse ofme” the Nif stated as if it was clear enough with that word alone. “I’m a giftfor the Lucians, right? ‘Servant’, they say, but we all know I’m going to serveas a whore. They didn’t choose me for being useful or skillful, they chose mebecause I’m ‘pretty’. So it’s fine to just…pass me from man to man so they doas they please. Except I didn’t like how he was treating me, so I fought back. Bithim when he tried to kiss me, kicked his nuts. He ended up tying and beating meup so I wouldn’t fight back.”

Corlistened in silence; the man did not seem any affected, he just seemed to be angry. Very angry. An unexpected reaction.

“That’swhat happened” the blond young man sighed angrily. “Thanks for appearing intime, but you should better try and not hire men that cannot hold their most basicanimal instincts into an escorting mission. I knew you Lucians were barbarians,but this is disgusting.”

The Marshalstayed quiet yet again, taken a bit off-guard by this man’s anger where he hadexpected fear. Cor nodded slowly andsubtly exhaled through the nose, before he retook his work on the Niflheimian’seye; at first the blond had tried to look away out of reflex, but he controlledhimself and let the Lucian continue.

“I’m sorryabout that” was all that Cor could whisper. “Not all of us Lucians are likethat…”

“Yes, sure”the blond replied with sarcasm. Unsure of what to reply, and taken a bitoff-guard by the anger where he had expected a scared, shy, and submissive man,Cor stayed quiet and only continued to tend to his wound.

The blonddid not oppose and let him do as he pleased, very slowly untensing, but neverfully.From under Cor’s cloak, the Marshal could see the Nif’s clothes stillmessed up, and now it made sense why he had found him so indecent. It was morethan just a fight, and he suddenly felt terrible, but relieved that his firstinstinct, after pushing the soldier off, had been to take off his cloak to wrapit around this man. He was very small, shorter than the average, where Corhimself was taller than it, so the Nif could hide all his body in it. Hehoped the blond felt safe covered like that.

Corfinished with his eye, and asked the younger man permission to also clean andhelp heal his lip, which was split open and bleeding. The Niflheimian, staringaway, gave his permission in a whisper. He looked like he was never askedpermission for anything regarding himself. Despite how he acted with anger andfirmness, Cor could still notice some signs of mistreatment in him, not justphysical, and felt sorry for the man.

“…you’rethe only one in this entire company that treats me good, Marshal” the Nif saidlowly. Cor did not stop his work or looked away of the wounds, but paid attention nonetheless.“Why do you not hate Niflheimians?”

“I hatesome Nifs, I do” Cor admitted. “But you’re not one of them. You haven’t givenme reasons to hate you.”

“…I wasgiven as a gift” the blond man said lowly, glaring at the older man. “It’snatural that you should see me as the rest of the company does; as a thing. Anemotionless thing that can be used, and hit, and tossed around. But you don’t.You treat me like…an equal. I don’t understand.”

Cor stayedquiet some moments while finishing with the lip. He pulled apart and looked atthis man to the eyes. He had a pair of cold, very piercing pale grey-blue eyes,full of hatred; not one directed specifically towards him, but in general. Theeyes reflecting only what they’d seen in their lives.

“I’m verysorry that that’s the impression you have, I truly apologize for it” Cor saidand soaked another tip of the cloth in the potion. “Maybe you were told you’dbe treated like that, and that my soldiers do not behave like men must havereinforced such ideas, but I promise you’re not going to be tortured ormistreated once in the Citadel.”

TheNiflheimian only glared harder at him, in distrust.

“I’m sorry.I’m not comfortable not knowing your name” the Marshal said unexpectedly after a short pause, not moving andjust staring at him, like he wouldn’t continue healing him until he had his answer. The blondman looked at him with confused eyes, even tilting the head like a curiousbird, as if not understanding why someone would be interested in a name. Insomething that made him human, when he was not supposed to be one.

It took a while as the Nif hesitated, distrusted, and discussed it mentally with himself before he dared open the mouth.

“…Loqi.”

“Loqi” Correpeated, and, for the first time since he could recall, the Nif saw theMarshal give a small but sincere smile. “Thank you.”

Loqi onlyfurrowed the eyebrows and stared more, the glare turning from angered toconfused. Why would someone say thanks just because he gave his name out?

The Marshalreached for his neck this time, but did not touch until, once more, he firstasked permission and Loqi gave it to him verbally. He had some scratches andmarks of hands, where Cor smeared the potion, as gently as he had treated hisface.

“Loqi, Iknow that the impression you’ve got so far is terrible, but I promise thatthat’s not how you’re going to be treated in the Citadel” Cor said. “I knoweveryone in there, and there’s not a single one person that would dare raisetheir hand at you. The palace is full of nice people that will accept you, andyou’ll be treated like an equal.”

The Nifstared at him, still frowning. Some moments went by in silence as the older manhealed him.

“Besides,and as a personal thought, I don’t think you need to worry about your futuremaster or lady, or possible partner” Cor told him softly, not looking at him tothe eyes, only focusing in any injury that he could find, as small as it was,like the mark of a fingernail under the ear. “His Majesty is kind and wise.He’s not going to treat you bad just because you’re Niflheimian; I’m sure kingRegis will assign you to someone you’ll be comfortable with.”

Loqi’sfrown softened noticeably, and he blinked once. He looked at the Marshal withcurious, scanning eyes, more softly than before. Even though Cor was notlooking at him, Loqi found no anger or hatred or malice in his eyes. His gazeand expression were soft. Just like the way his hands felt on his neck…

“Someonewho will treat you kindly…tenderly…” Cor took the cloth away and moved a handup to remove a stray lock of hair off the Niflheimian’s face; startled at firstand not sure why he had done that, the blond man felt his face tickle a bit,and he lowered the eyes. The Marshal found a little scratch on his temple,previously hidden by the hair, so he started treating to it. “…someone thatwill see you not like a gift, but like a friend. Or even like a lover if that’sas you wish…”

Loqi’s eyeswent back up to look at the Marshal’s face, any signs of frown gone. Cor lookedat him for a moment, taken off-guard; he was so used to see this ‘guest’frowning the entire time that seeing his face untensed, and even withthat…innocent, harmless expression…it was new. The Nif looked much younger, andmuch, much prettier like that.

They heldeye contact for a while, in silence. Cor look at his eyes most of the time, butafter a long while in silence, he gazed at the Nif’s mouth. It was- pretty.Soft, and well hydrated.

For amoment, Cor felt tempted…but he remembered this was a gift, for someone else, that he was just escorting, so he forced himself to look away, and continuedhealing the man’s injuries.

“So don’tworry about it” Cor said softly. “Not all Lucians are like this…”

Loqi staredat him in silence, even when the gaze was not returned. He spent seconds justdoing that before his eyes went down again.

Both stayedquiet. Cor could see the Niflheimian had fully untensed now, and the frown didnot return. He stayed quiet, allowing Cor to heal him without glaring, withouttension, without opposing. The Marshal continued and asked him about thewrists, the arms, if he had any other injury, if anything hurt, a slow processthat none minded, which Cor handled by speaking softly and kindly, and whichthe Niflheimian answered blankly, if with a hidden pinch of shyness that hetried to conceal.

“…I have aquestion” Loqi said after a while of watching Cor heal one of his slightlyscrapped knees.

“Yes?”

“…are you-“Loqi paused for so long at first Cor thought he would not continue. “…are you…part ofthe king’s household?”

The Marshallooked up at him. The blond’s face turned very, very slightly warm in thecheeks, but the man himself showed a slight frown, more out of some sort offorced arrogance than anger, like he did not want the man to look at him unlesshe was frowning.

“Yes” Cor saidlowly. “My name is not noble, but yes. I am.”

For amoment, Loqi’s expression softened, and Cor could see the ghost of a smile onhis beautiful lips. The Niflheimian stared at him and the smile grew a little, beforehe just nodded and looked away.

“I see”Loqi said and fought to not smile. “I think I’m alright now, Marshal Leonis. It’slate and I wouldn’t want to interrupt your hours of sleep. Thanks for yourattention…you’re very kind with me, my Lord.”

#corqi #cor/loqi #cor x loqi #drabble #fanfic #UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH #THIS WAS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOD TO WRITE #also i think it wasn't that clear but #loqi is a gift for king regis so regis can choose who to give him to #so long it's someone from his household #i don't know if i'm using that word correctly in english B|#also #spoilers.....#regis does assing him to cor :3 #regiscan see the way cor looks at him and how comfy loqi looks in his presence #he can't say no to human gifts from the empire even when he doesn't want them #becauseregis doesn't like to treat humans like things but denying such thing would be risky #so the less he can do is try and make loqi and other human gifts as happy and comfy and welcomed as possible #another spoiler loqi does live happily c:#i just hope it's not stockholm syndrome B|#spoiler on it isn't #IT'S LOVE <3 #idjfjgskdhas i'm so cheesy dammit

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baymeric · 6 years

Text

hello friends I have some estinien/wol for you that ive been editing for like 3 days and cant seem to perfect ヽ(´ー` )┌

It had been a relatively simple request: Estinien and you were to clear an aevis infestation in the Coerthas Highlands. The two of you were the most trustworthy, Aymeric had reasoned, and this job, though seemingly simple, was of dire importance, it being on a major road.

As you both had surmised, it was a simple job, and the cleanup passed rather quickly. An oncoming blizzard, however, had forced Estinien and you to seek refuge in a nearby inn.

Struggling against the strong winds to push the wooden door behind you closed, your companion and you entered, the former opting to wait towards the entrance. You gave Estinien a passing glance as you strolled up to the woman attending the front, smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes.

“Hello. I don’t suppose you would have any rooms available, would you?”

The woman glanced between you and the dragoon, a small smile on her face. It was slightly unnerving.

“Well, my dear, Halone smiles upon you today! I have exactly one room left. Will your husband and you be taking it?”

You sputtered.

“Excuse me?!” you all but yelled, a blush turning the entirety of your face crimson, and the woman winced.

“Oh, my sincerest apologies. You two haven’t gotten married yet, then?”

��Married? Yet?”

You looked at Estinien incredulously, but his armor kept you from discerning his expression. His arms were crossed against his chest, and you thought you could see a twitch of his lip, but it was clear he was leaving this awkward situation entirely up to you.

The woman beckoned you closer, her smile growing wider. You had half a mind to leave and sleep outside, with naught but the blizzard’s winds to rock you to sleep. You obliged the woman, however, quietly stepping forward until her thin lips were but a couple ilms away.

“As soon as you two walked into this inn, I could sense it,” she whispered, and your confusion must have showed starkly on your face, as she continued: “When you’ve lived as many summers as I’ve, you get a nose for what I like to call….lovers’ tension.”

You had quite a few questions running through your head, but you didn’t get to ask them. While you were engaged in this strange conversation, Estinien had come up behind you, placed a heavy hand on your back, and interrupted:

“The blizzard won’t be subsiding anytime soon. Just get the room. We can discuss the finer details at a later time.”

You wondered when “a later time” would be, but sighed and gathered the gil from the pouch around your waist, placing it on the wooden counter. The woman gave you a sly wink, explained how to get to the last available room, and placed a set of silver keys in your palm.

The room itself was a standard inn room, and while you prayed fervently that it would have two beds, it had but one moderately sized bed tucked in a corner. Estinien let out an angry huff, and you plopped yourself on the bed with another sigh.

“It’s a later time,” you said flatly, your eyes shifting to a now-helmetless Estinien. His hair was just as silky as it had always appeared, and you found yourself admiring his delicate white eyelashes, and the way they contrasted his deep-set steel blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and you quickly looked away as you felt a blush coming up.

Estinien sighed, and moved a piece of hair behind his ear. He grumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out.

“Sorry?”

“I said,” he started, crossing his arms and looking away (though a light blush tinted his ears), “If you have no qualms about it, we may share the bed.”

Unsure of how to accept without sounding too eager (to be fair, you were a bit eager; you had been pining after the dragoon for a while), you decided to go with: “If that’s okay with you, then I, too have no qualms about it.”

Estinien grunted and began the process of shedding his armor. You did the same, though you noticed the elezen turn his head as you began undressing. The kind gesture was meant, you assumed, to preserve your modesty.

You were dressed in little more than your smallclothes; as was your companion. His eyes seemed to trail down your form and up again, and you suddenly felt very self-conscious. You silently chided your foolishness: you could fell a primal, but heavens forbid the man you have been pining after see you in your nightclothes.

“Well,” Estinien started awkwardly, and you felt a smile tugging at your lips; you had never seen him behave in a way that wasn’t brash and confident. Awkward Estinien, you decided, was rather adorable.

You waited for him to continue, but he never did. Instead, a silence pierced only by the crackling of the hearth and the low hum of the blizzard outside left you both uncomfortable.

“After you,” Estinien finally muttered, motioning towards the bed, his face now the same shade of pink as his ears.

You slowly climbed under the thin sheets into the side next to the stone wall, which you instantly regretted: it was surprisingly cold to the touch. Because of the broadness of Estinien’s form, however, you found your back against the wall, and your chest against his arm. A sharp shiver ran up your spine.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, you thought bitterly, feeling especially bitter at the fact that the bed was much, much smaller than it initially appeared. You tossed and turned, attempting to find some semblance of warmth, until Estinien’s sharp words caused you to pause.

“If you do not stop fidgeting--”

You let out a huff of air. You could respond to his biting remark, but you decided that you were far too tired to start an argument, and opted for muttering an apology instead.

You heard the rustling of sheets as the dragoon shifted and brought them up to his shoulder. You fought the urge to groan as you realized that the blankets were completely covering your face; only the crown of your head was visible. Though, admittedly, you were a bit warmer, it was difficult to breathe with sheets in your face.

You slowly wiggled up so that your face was at least above the covers, and realized that you were left with hardly any of the sheets. They were bundled up around Estinien. You tried your damndest to stay quiet as you coaxed the sheets over your shoulder.

“What are you doing.”

It was more of a statement than a question, and you suddenly felt heat pool in your cheeks. You clenched your fists and attempted to take a deep, calming breath, but Estinien yanked the sheets back towards him and something inside you snapped.

“Estinien,” you hissed, “My back is against this twelves forsaken wall that is colder than Shiva’s--,” you paused, trying to keep your anger in check, and said, “Give me the sheets.”

The dragoon’s back was facing you earlier, but apparently your outburst piqued his interest, because he was now directly in front of you, a ghost of a smile on his face. The room was lit only by the low flames of the room’s hearth and the silvery glow of moonlight filtering in through a small window, and you suddenly found yourself admiring the way the milky light bathed Estinien in an ethereal glow. Now certainly wasn’t the time for any of these feelings, but your cheeks grew hot.

Estinien seemed to relish in the fact that you stopped mid-argument to stare at him, and you practically saw the cogs working in his mind as his brows furrowed.

His muscled arms pulled you over and hoisted your frozen body upon his chest. The only legible thought you had was “Twelve take me.” Here you were, on top of the Azure Dragoon, who was holding you against him, in the same bed. Twelve take me, you thought again, grasping at the front of his shirt nervously.

“Better?” Estinien asked, pulling the covers over you both.

You gaped like a fish out of water and attempted to put together some kind of witty response or action or anything that would make you look less like a frail maiden in love and more like the Warrior of Light, but instead you blurted out, “Yes, you’re as warm as I imagined.”

TWELVE TAKE ME.

Your eyes widened. This was it. This was the one idiotic phrase that would get your privileges as Warrior of Light revoked. The gossip would spread quick around Eorzea: the famed Warrior of Light was fantasizing about a handsome Elezen dragoon. As gossip usually goes, the story would become twisted somewhere down the line, and would probably end up as “Warrior of Light pounces on dragoon: some say it was an assassination attempt.”

You felt a gentle hand smoothing hair away from your forehead, and your thoughts immediately came to a halt. You peered up to see said dragoon, a soft smile you had never seen on him gracing his face. He chuckled and rested his hands on your lower back.

“So you oft thought of me?”

With a blush you responded, “I did, you thick-headed fool. Obviously my rather blatant attempts at courting you failed.”

Estinien scoffed.

“I’m the thick-headed fool? I almost threw your body upon mine so you would not freeze during the night, and here you are, not understanding that I return your feelings.”

You did not know how to respond, so you didn’t.

Estinien sighed and pressed your head to his heart. It was rather calming, listening to his heartbeat like this. You hummed contently, and adjusted yourself so you were more comfortable. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you managed to mumble one more sentence before you surrendered yourself to sleep.

“Estinien, I love you.”

The dragoon’s expression softened.

“And I you.”

#estinien wyrmblood #estinien #nymwrites #estinien/wol #ffxiv

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lovonomy · 4 years

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----------------------Why is a woman attracted to a man.. Or why does a man draw towards a woman??The normal answer is that both are half! The debt-money of the universe is energy!Yin-Yang, Ida-Pingla, Sun is Moon, Left-South, Shiva-Shakti, Nature is Men!Incomplete without each other, so to achieve perfection.. moving towards each other!!This is the normal answer!Sankhya philosophy says that if nature is not close to man.. then the expansion of the world is not possible!!If opposit energy doesn't exist, there is no speed in life!Again with the yoga of both.. children are also born.. So also, the mutual stretch of women and men is given by nature!Female gives birth, male protects.. that's why they live in companionship!Over time, after the superiority of Homo Sepians was established.. In the development, the same reason would have probably existed in the origin of establishing a marriage institution in the society!!... but then what,When a woman gets a man, she gets a child and also protects... even then she is attracted to another man???Or if a man gets a woman and a child.. even then he is attracted to another woman??Is this a lust?If the answer is ′′ yes.. then confuse this question a little more!Suppose that a married woman is attracted to a man.. who is less than her husband.. physically, in power and strength!What will you call this charm then???Similarly, a man is attracted to a woman.. who is less than his woman... even in beauty, even in the body!What will you call such attraction?Is this a lust??In both situations, it's not physical attraction or lust!Then what is the reason that.. female or male, except your couple,... Outside the threshold, get curious in another woman or man??Or fall in love with someone else?Of course there is something 'missing' in the relationship of husband and wife!There is some lack of satisfaction.. from each other!!Perhaps the perfect couple choice.. Very mysterious phenomina!Perhaps there is a lot hidden.. above the mathematics of biological sensation, childbirth, family, society.. on which our vision never goes!!We choose a life partner.. by being influenced by very normal physical or social talks!! and when the wrong choice is made, there is a dissatisfaction throughout life!!Actually we see our lives too short.. which is not that! He is an ocean of infinite expanded and consciousness!Then when there is a clarity in this ocean of consciousness.. then our selected ' husband ' or ' lover's barrier breaks..Then if they do not have any self-connection and love, or they both are emotionally dissatisfied.. then the woman, when she meets the external man in her inner man, becomes more attracted to her!In the same way, men also find the woman inside him.. outside!In which the search of body is less, but the search of inner woman is more!!... Marriage institution often become unmatched couples!Whether it is an arranged marriage or a love marriage.. Perfect compatibility, it is very rare to see!Often, at the age of marriage.. then the understanding of what kind of life partner we need is not developed!Amumana is decided on the basis of color, stature, caste and economic situation etc.Then after marriage, it comes to know that.. I don't have any match with this woman! Or my husband turned out to be un-romantic, frozen and meat laundry!There are many floors of compatibility.. Bottom of energy, bottom of emotion, intelligence and bottom of soul!Successfully, the bottom floor is more effective!But our decision is taken only based on body and meaning.. This is the upper distemper that flies in a few years!The magic of the body is only for a few days! Then the magic of energy goes on, even more than that.. Love and emotional sensations have an effect! Then the greatest soul reconciles!Often there is no love in married couples, then even if it happens, the soul does not match!A woman who is unsatisfied with the body can run towards a man for the body.. But if the floor above the body does not match... then that relationship is not going to be permanent!Because the satisfaction of the body is not just the satisfaction of the body!She is the consolidated trupti.. with body, emotion, intelligence and satisfaction of soul!!Even a single floor is incomplete.. So the meeting is also incomplete!.. Then a woman, only by the touch of a man.. knows the level of love or lust flowing inside her!If there's no love in that touch.. then a woman can't stay there for long!She can live with her husband for years without sex.. But, can't tolerate sex without love!!... If a married woman goes towards another man.. then there are many reasons for her!The unmatched man's company blocks the expansion of his intelligence, spirit and consciousness from all sides!We are all moving from fat to subtle consciousness!Even if we don't know this fact intellectually.. yet this cognizance, is installed in the inbuilt memory of our consciousness!Otherwise many women, except their toll-handsome, high salary paid husband.. are not attracted to any common man??Surely there's something in the man that binds them!Who hulls their boat.. courtyards their dance.. and expands the sky of their consciousness!This attraction is not physical but spiritual!.. Otherwise, if a woman becomes cheeky, then which man's body is not available to her?In the same way, if men throw four paise.. then thousands of bodies are available in the market!!.. But the narrow mindset of the society looks at the relationship of every woman-man by connecting the body!If a married woman loves a man.. then she takes a big risk... This risk is the risk of losing this life! This risk, can't be taken for anything small..This is the risk it took to get a ′′ great lifeOtherwise she knows well.. that unmarried relationship has no future! Nor is this relationship ever going to get any social acceptance! She still gets in that relationship!Because some relationships nourish consciousness!That lot of 'Anjia', who has been missed in married life, mentally physical and financial subordinations... She wants to live it!Because he is the biggest nourishment of consciousness!The great sense of consciousness does not accept social customs!He is moving towards continuous growth! The land in which he sees the possibility of germination,, that more pollen pushes!!Of course, the age of that relationship is small.. but it is a great person raised towards the expansion of consciousness!Just like that, even a man needs a woman's emotional intimacy!A man has such intense energy... which melts only from the company of a womanHow many male friends does she have.. But there is a lot of his subconsciousness that can be divided only by women!This has nothing to do with physical relationship, it's emotional sharingIf a man goes to another woman, except his woman... you in 90 percent cases.. he doesn't go for sex.... but goes in search of love and emotional comfort!Sorry, this article is getting bigger.. but I don't feel like finishing it without telling a story.. I remember, back in 2001, when I worked for a company, a gentleman used to work with me... whose age, was 48!He was often found with a woman who would have probably been 35!That woman, was a vido! Dark and normal look was of! She had two kids too!That gentleman was also very gentle and helpful!They used to come to that woman's house and put her in a scooter and take her here to help with her household chores!He lived in Ranji in Jabalpur! Many people used to misunderstand his relationship, and by taking sparks.. they made ugly and condemnable comments on his and that woman's relationship!... I didn't like it all because he was such a sweet person!One day I dared to ask them... that people talk a lot of rubbish about you and that woman.., you know all this.. you have wife and children too... Then why don't you stop going to that woman's house!!The answer they gave.. is like thinking!He said.. My wife, is a very nice woman! I don't even complain to him!But she is very sick... two years after marriage!I serve her in every way, have spent millions on her treatment, will do it further.. She has been here for years.. continuously! I sit beside him for hours daily!I do all my duties with my life! But I also need an emotional support... need a gentle, strong, soft support... which is not physical, emotional.. and I don't get this comfort by being with a boyfriend.. That's why I go to this woman!There is no physical relationship between us!" You can also ask her to a woman..′′ Meeting him, talking, and helping him makes my soul so satisfied!"′′ I'm facing all the defamation for this!"If I leave this corner of peace.. then maybe I will go crazy!"... probably that woman had the same feelings towards her.. because I was familiar with that woman... she was also a very gentle, decent and gentle woman!..... That day I realized for the first time.... that the society sees the relationship between men and women.... many times they are not wrong but very sacred relationships!!A woman never connects with a man for her body it is true....But it is also true that.. men too... do not go to a woman for the body every time... but go in search of a cool shade full of love!!... Every relationship outside of marriage is not a sin.. Some relations are sacred.. even with the holy one!

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