#but for now I’m vibing thanks to modern medicine

[the-old-man-has-the-phonebox]

I love when the meds make me go from violently suicidal to extremely chill

[kardia-library-official]

I’m currently developing a timeline for the Norad vs Sechs war, and I was wondering if you had any fun facts about the Sechs Empire that the wikis don’t mention or headcanons you’d like to share. I’ve got a lot of ideas already, but I love using other people’s toys in my sandbox when I can!

Ah, I'm flattered you asked! Honestly, I might not have much useful info, because so much of what I do is vibes-based, and I kind of keep things vague on purpose because I'm paranoid about accidentally contradicting some bit of canon lore I missed.

BUT!

-Even as far back as the RF1 era, I imagine the Empire as being more roughly "20th century" than Norad. I've touched on this in my fics, with the references to things like large hospitals and universities being much more commonplace than they are in Norad. I've also made references to them having more modern medicine; Edward has placed IVs and Terry has gotten one, more surgical technologies, etc. One thing I haven't referenced because it just hasn't come up is that I think they have radio! (At least by Terry's time, probably not in Edward's.)

-I've mentioned this before, and it's kind of building on the last thing... But yeah, I do choose to believe they have weird magitech cyborgs! (Which is just making me think of FMA, and yeah, that technology level/mix is about right. Plus an almost cyberpunk style of dense urbanism, but with a more fantasy-tinged aesthetic.)

-I remember you mentioning that the LGBT community is more underground in the Empire, and that's actually a minor plot point in one of my fics! (Sorry for being vague, people who've read it know what I'm talking about, and I don't want to spoil anyone who hasn't because it's a big part of the lore I came up with for a character even though it's small overall.)

-Terry's distinctive speech patterns are probably at least partly regional! But pretty specific to the particular time and place where he grew up, since Edward doesn't speak similarly.

...Aaaand that's what's coming to mind for now! Thanks for the question! It was really fun to mull over.

[waywardsummoner46]

Victorian Vexation

Sam Winchester x sister!reader, Dean Winchester x sister!reader

@spnaubingo​ square filled: Victorian!AU

Summary: Waking up, you find yourself in a room you don’t recognise and with people trying to force feed some amber “medicine” down your throat. Who are these people? Where are you? And why do these Sam and Dean lookalikes keep saying the just want their sister back?

A/N: Lesson learnt - I suck at summaries but I promise that the fic is more interesting than the summary... maybe even another series idea oops. Anyway, enjoy :)

________________________________________________________

Waking up, you instantly had a headache. A very obnoxious one at that. Reminds you of when Dean started to mock Sam in a really high-pitched voice not noticing that it was pissing you off as well (but it’s okay, because he had what was coming to him).

  Caught in a memory, with your eyes still clothed, you didn’t notice that a small, slender woman had slipped through your door. Still replaying the memory repeatedly in your head, you exhaled slowly. When a stuttered voice spoke up, you nearly jumped out of your bed.

  “Oh I’m so sorry my lady, I didn’t mean to wake you! I just came to deliver your clothes for the day… and to wait to help you get changed, and to administer your medicine” the lady practically blabbered whilst silently shaking and dropping into a bow.

  You were going to respond with an angry and confused tone but then you took notice of your surroundings. This is not your room. It seemed to be double the size of your old room, the furniture was mahogany but looked quite old-fashioned and specifically designed to make the room appear bigger than it seemed. 

   A mere fireplace was placed to your left, it was quite tall and wide, but lacked the modern feel and the carpet was a disgustingly flowery-patterned one to which you abruptly looked away from. Doing so laned your focus on your bed. It was huge! The headboard itself was about a metre tall with an intricate and flowy pattern but the bedding nearly made you gag. Take a stereotypical grandmother’s nightgown right? Yeah that’s the only connection you could make.

  Realizing the woman, probably mid-twenties, was still hunched over in a shaky bow, you finally addressed someone who was capable of having an intelligent conversation. You propped yourself up against the head-board searching for the gun you kept under your pillow but coming up empty handed.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” You demand. She straightens up and glances at you confusedly, before understanding seems to fall like a curtain over her face. Trying to be discreet, she reaches slowly behind her back for a table you only just noticed for something that looked like a glass jar of amber liquid.

  Calmly she explained, “Miss Winchester, you haven’t had your meds yet, I forgot the spoon for it, stay where you are please miss.” Which obviously prompted more confusion on your part, so watching her leave the room and closing the door behind her, you sat silently with your mouth agape.

  Once you were sure she was out of earshot, you jumped out of bed and went about trying to sneak your way through whatever captivity you were in. Arriving at the door, you tried the handle to find the crazy lady had locked the door! You let out a groan but remembering she reached for that vial of “medicine”. So you went over to investigate it, it read:

(Y/N) Winchester’s medicine.

To be given twice a day, one before getting out of bed and another before going to sleep.

Do not forget a dose!

Caution: Only to be consumed by her. No one else is to consume the substance.

  Now even more confused, you hid the vial in your pyjama pocket (thanking whoever had mercy on you that let you keep them at least) for later because something was definitely giving you a witch’s vibe about this.

  All of a sudden, you heard multiple pairs of footsteps seemingly approaching your room. You hid behind the door and grasped the candlestick that was also on the table to use as a weapon. They came to a stop just outside the door and you heard faint mumbling, “Thank you for coming to get us, Lilith. It was a good decision but you’re dismissed now. My brother and I will give our sister her medicine.”  You made out a light pair of footsteps get more distant as they left after a few seconds but all you could think of was Sam and Dean? What the hell?

    Unprepared for the door opening, you were temporarily stunned out of shock before coming back to your senses and deciding ‘Well hey, they’re most likely not my brothers so what the hell? Might as well whack ‘em’ but that motivation was short lived as two poshly dressed Winchesters barged through the door and immediately pinpointed your location.

   Dean went to grab you, so you swung the candlestick at him but he evaded it with inhuman speed and grabbed your hand and brought it behind your back. He reached out for your other hand and grasped with ease no matter how hard you struggled.

  With both hands behind your back, you decided aiming for his crotch with your heel might be a good idea but Sam still exists so that plan was foiled. Just as you lifted your left leg to bring back on Dean, Sam hefted both legs up by your ankles and, working as a team, they carried you over to the bed. 

  Nevertheless and with stubborn determination, you twist and turn in every possible direction but they appear undeterred. Letting out a scream you seethed, “Get off of me. Where are my brothers, you sick monsters?” 

  Both faces, tight with focus, softened slightly at your words that you took note of and paused you ministrations for a second. A mistake, as this gave Sam the opportunity to sit on your hips and for Dean to restrain your hands above your head.

  Sam looked over at the table, before sighing and looking at you. “Where is the medicine, (Y/N)?”

  Scoffing, you replied “I chucked it out the window, asshole. Now tell me what you’ve done with my brothers? And where the hell even am I anyway?”

  Having had enough of your questions, Sam inserted his hand in your pocket and fished the glass bottle out. Grasping on to common sense for the time, you tightened your lips as much as you could because whatever that potion was it couldn’t be good.

   “Open up, sweetheart. It’s for your own good,” Dean piped in and you gave him the best I-may-be-scared-but-I-will-still-smite-your-ass-look you could muster. He sighed deeply, before coming to a silent decision. Releasing one of his hands from yours, he brought the other to try and wedge them between your lips.

  He’s persistent and slowly but surely, the tightness lessened and you became mildly more terrified. Once they were too sore to press together any longer, you opened them but kept your teeth clenched.

  Sam tutted this time, and reached for the spoon. He un-capped the lid and poured a massive glob of the shitty looking liquid onto it before turning back to focus on you. “You may not want it, but we want our sister, not theirs, so we’ll do this the hard way.” 

 You silently screamed at him as he literally began trickling the medicine between the crevices of your teeth. You barely registered how at least the liquid tasted good before feeling drowsy.

  “There we go, good girl. Now we'll chase away all those nasty thoughts of that unsafe life and monster hunting you had, hm?” Sam.

  “Well done, (Y/N). Go to sleep, we’ll see you when you wake up. Love you, darling,” Dean.

  They both pressed light kisses to your forehead before maneuvering you under the covers and into a more comfortable position.

  “This can’t happen again, Sam. One more time and she’s irredeemable.”

  “I know, Dean. Only a few more doses and Crowley said we could have our sister back.”

  Dean hummed then they both left the room, but not without another “love you” each. Before everything faded into black, you managed a “what the fuck?” Then you were out.

[unrestedjade]

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

[supersickies]

Summary: "Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all."

OR

Tony has meetings, Steve has anxiety, and poor Peter just has a fever.

A/N: It’s Sicktember 2021! Very excited for this month and to see all of the amazing works! Not to mention it gives me an excuse and the motivation to write as many sickfics as I can! And let's see if I do because writer's block is too real right now :) Anyway thank you @sicktember for coming up with this month of prompts and I hope you all like this little fic! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3! 

Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all.

Tony, however, could see right through the false confidence.

“Relax, Stevie! Good lord, I can feel you panicking from over here.” Tony jokes as he enters the living room and gathers his briefcase and Stark gadgets for his day of meetings.

Steve jolts a bit as he looks up at Tony. “Huh? I-I’m not panicking.”

“You were just glaring daggers into Petey over there, hon.” Tony points out, to which Steve just shrugs with a blush. “There’s really no need to worry Cap, the kid is probably just gonna sleep and cough a bit until I’m back, alright? And if he wakes up and gets antsy or something just heat up some of the soup I made and throw on Adventure Time. Pete’s an easy kid, I swear.”

Steve stands from his chair with a deep breath and nods in understanding. Tony strides over to the super-soldier and takes his face in his hands. “There’s no one I trust more with Peter than you. Except maybe Pepper, but she can literally do everything.”

Steve laughs at that and bends down to give Tony a quick peck on the lips. They break apart so Tony can give Peter’s hair a quick ruffle. His hand pauses on the boy’s forehead as he gauges his fever. His lips quirk downward, he does not love the temperature the kids running at the moment.

With a sigh, he stands up and walks hand in hand with Steve to the elevator. “I think his fever went up, so just keep an eye on that. Friday is down for maintenance so you’ll probably want to wake him up in a bit to take his temperature manually.” The elevator doors open and the super couple shares one last peck before Tony steps in. “I’m just thirty floors down! You’re gonna do great! I love you both!” Tony calls as the doors close and suddenly Steve is alone. Well, save for the snoring spider-teen on the couch.

Steve wanders back to the living room, nervously glancing at Peter as he does. The poor kid is basically in the exact opposite of his regular state. On a normal day, Peter was a bright ball of action, seemingly unable to stop talking or moving at all. But that wasn’t the Peter he saw now.

Instead, this Peter was silent. Sick. There’s an eerie ambiance in the air and Steve hates it.

So, to quell the weird vibe, he turns the tv to TCM, (un-ironically his favorite channel as the rest of the team loved to tease him about) and sets it at a low volume so he doesn’t wake the kid.

He’s just about to the end of an old western film when he hears Peter groan and shuffle around on the couch. The sick teen sits up wearily, his hair a mess and his eyes unfocused. Not to mention his cheeks are deeply flushed with fever, which has clearly gotten worse in the last forty-five minutes.

“S’eve?” Peter slurs as he spots the super solider.

Steve’s focus quickly turns to the kid, who looks undoubtedly sicker. “Hey, Pete. How you feeling, pal?” Stupid question, Rogers. He thinks to himself.

Peter sniffs and shivers with sudden chills. “Mm, n-not v’ry good.” His voice cracks as tears fill to his eyes. His sleep-addled brain catching up to and feeling the full effect of his feverish achy body. He can’t stop his breath as it hitches and the tears spill over. It just hurts so much.

Steve’s up and at the boy’s side almost inhumanly fast, doing his best to comfort him. Unfortunately, he’s no expert on Peter care (i.e, he’s not Tony). If there’s one thing he does know, however, is that you can never go wrong playing with the kid’s hair, which Steve had quickly learned by watching his boyfriend. And while Tony was the “Peter scalp massage pro”, Peter definitely wasn’t picky about who or how. The kid simply just wanted his hair touched.

So Steve did just that. The larger man was relieved to find that the action had the desired effect—Peter had calmed almost instantly, curling up against Steve’s side— but the super soldier was quickly fulled with nerves again as he felt the nearly scalding heat coming from the kid.

When Peter had relaxed enough, Steve grabbed the thermometer Tony had left on the coffee table. Peter spots the machine in Steve’s hand and opens his mouth, accustomed to the routine after being sick all day yesterday as well.

With the thermometer under his tongue, Peter lets his eyes close as they wait for the reading to be done. When it is, Peter lightly jumps at the beep before burrowing back into Steve’s side as the blonde takes the thermometer back and reads its results.

And while Peter looks peaceful once again, Steve is panicking. 103.5. Steve’s not a scientist but he knows that’s not a good temperature for the body to be.

“Friday can you- ah.” Oh, right. Steve remembers that the AI was down for maintenance. Instead, he looks around for his phone, ready to research exactly what he should do for a kid with a near brain-melting fever.

Steve bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, remembers. He doesn’t have a phone right now, as he sat with his last one in his back pocket and it cracked in half. He and Tony had laughed themselves to tears when it happened.

Steve wasn’t laughing now.

He’s thrown back into the moment as Peter groans again, another intense chill running through the kid’s frame. Poor kid must be freezing, Steve thinks.

Freezing.

With that realization, Steve is taken back to his teen years. The years he spent consistently sick and feverish like Peter is now. The years his Ma used to keep him in bed for days, wrapped in every blanket they had in their house.

Blankets!

Steve suddenly remembers how to treat a high fever. You sweat it out, duh. With a tiny smile at the memory of his Ma, he stands from the couch carefully and heads to Tony’s linen closet. He spots a soft looking quilt beside a thick fluffy throw and grabs the two, knowing that when paired with the blanket the kid was already wrapped in they would make the perfect fever banishing covers.

Peter is almost back to sleep when Steve returns, but he hears the man's footsteps and his eyes open again. Steve makes quick work of unfolding the blankets and laying them over Peter. The kid hums, content with the warmth of the added blanked combating his chills, and falls swiftly to sleep. It makes Steve smile, pleased with his ability to care for the sick spidering.

Steve was feeling pretty confident that Tony was going to be just as pleased.

______

Tony Stark was far from pleased.

He had excused himself from his meeting after an hour, intent on checking Peter’s vitals on his phone through the watch the boy wore on his wrist.

What he saw was less than ideal. In fact, it was terrifying. 104.3 should be Peter’s physics grade after perfectly completing extra credit for fun, not his kid’s body temperature. The mechanic bolts to the nearest elevator, paying no mind to the white-collar assholes who awaited his return. They didn’t matter, not when his kid’s brain was melting thirty floors up.

“Steve!” He shouts when the elevator doors finally open to the penthouse. The blonde jumps when he hears his name and his eyes widen as he sees his panicked boyfriend sprinting towards him.

“Tony wha-?”

“Where’s Peter, Steve? Where is he— is he okay?”

Still a bit flustered, Steve just points to the sleeping boy on the couch, still wrapped in the thick blankets. When Tony sees him, his eyes only go wider.

“What, are you trying to fucking roast him?” Tony asks, exasperated. Before Steve can answer, Tony begins removing the blankets from his kid. Cringing at the heat that wafts out from them as they go.

“I-I- his fever got higher! I was trying to help him sweat it out!” Steve stumbles through his explanation.

“Sweat it out? Jesus fuck what are you from the thir- oh my god you’re from the thirties.” Tony halts with the realization. Steve Rogers was borderline a complete stranger to modern medicine and comes from an era of absolute batshit home remedies. The man smoked cigarettes for his asthma for fucks sake.

“Okay, alrighty then. Steve do me a favor and go start a lukewarm bath for me please.” Tony orders in about the most anxiously calm voice Steve had ever heard.

“Okay but Tony-“

“Now please, Steven.” Tony demands once more. Steve gets the memo, fast, and quickly heads to Tony’s bathroom.

Shit.

_____

After a quick dip in the tub and a quick anxiety attack from Tony, Peter’s temperature is back down to a less dangerous level. He’s sat back on the couch in the lightest t-shirt and boxers he owns, sipping ice water through a straw with a fever patch stuck to his forehead. Maybe it was overkill, but you couldn’t tell Tony that.

When the boy's eyes begin to droop Tony takes the water from his hands and helps him lay back down.

“Comfy, bubba?” He asked in a hushed tone. Peter just nods and yawns as he closes his eyes and quickly drifts back to sleep. “Get some more sleep bud.” He hums softly, laying a thin—thin—blanket over his kid.

Steve watches the pair from afar, afraid to step in or offer any more “help”. He doubts Tony will even want to look at him after what he’s done. Which is why when Tony stands and turns to him, he immediately tenses. He’s ready to be yelled at, cursed at, probably dumped.

“C’mere.” Tony says, opening his arms to Steve, inviting him into a hug. The blonde is shocked, sure, but he accepts the hug quickly, silently thinking it could be his last with the man he’s come to love so much.

“Again, Stevie, I can hear you overthinking.” Tony mumbles against his boyfriend's shoulder. He pulls away from the hug and takes the man's hands, looking up at him. “All things considered, you did nothing wrong, hon.”

“Tony I just-“

“You just did what you thought was right. You didn’t know any better Steve.” Tony rebuts before Steve can even finish.

“I’m just…I’m really sorry Tony. You trusted me with your most important person and— I fucked up bad.” Steve apologizes.

“Woah there big guy!” Tony’s brows shoot up at the apology. “First off, language mister.” Tony teases, it makes Steve blush and a hint of a smile ghosts his lips. Tony sees that as a win. “Second, yes, you’re correct. Peter is incredibly important to me. He’s my kid, but you are my Steve!” Tony emphasizes, shaking Steve’s shoulders a bit as if it will help get the point across. “You are incredibly important to me too! You made a mistake, and guess what Steve, that’s human— you’re human!”

Steve smiles sadly and nods before looking back at Peter’s sleeping form on the couch, just double-checking that the kid was truly fine.

Tony huffs lightly, using his fingers to softly move Steve’s head so he’s looking at him again. “Look at me, love. Peter’s fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, and we are fine. Okay?”

Steve takes a deep breath, closing his eyes with a smile. “Okay.” He confirms quietly. He can feel Tony’s hands move to cup the sides of his cheeks as he’s brought into a deep kiss. It quells all of his anxieties. Tony is here, with him, and he’s not going anywher-

“Eeugh, y-you guys ‘re cute and stuff, but the PDA ’s kinda makin’ me nauseous.” Peter’s voice breaks their kiss. Both Avengers turn to the kid, their faces about as red as his feverish cheeks after getting caught.

Tony snorts. “Oh come on kiddie!” Tony pulls Steve’s face closer to his again, this time just peppering kisses across his face. “A man can’t show his boyfriend some love?”

The older men laugh until they hear a legitimate gag from Peter. “N-no I’m serious Mr. Stark—“ Gag. “I’m really nauseous.”

“Steven grab a trash can.” Tony prompts, the same anxiously calm demeanor back in his voice as before.

Steve wastes no time, sprinting to the closest receptacle. “On it!”

[monterosa-if]

Your prose in the 3 character write-ups is phenomenal! I find myself wanting to know each of the cast, learn their stories and connect the plot threads into one wonderfully written story. May I ask what drove you to pick this time period specifically (in combination with the mystery genre)? Good ol' Agatha Christie or something else entirely? The aesthetics? Are there reasons why the story wouldn't work in a modern setting? It's an unusually rare setting in IF stories, but I'm all for it!

thank you <3 i’m so glad you liked them!

as for the questions (and please ask as many as you like! i’ll answer everything i can without spoiling!):

i think there are definitely some parts of the story which could work in a more modern setting (cishet white rich men screwing people over is, unfortunately, evergreen). but i like the specific sub-genre of “cosies” very much, and part of the appeal of a lonely ski lodge murder is that you can’t contact the outside world, which is much less believable in the early 21st century than it is in the early 20th century. (plus the vibes are just. very Vibey <3 )

as things stand at the moment, there will be an option in-game to choose whether or not mc has their doctorate yet - i envision mc being no younger than 26, and they could be anywhere up to about their early 30s?

as for specialism, the current list would be history / medicine / fine arts / romance languages (which for our purposes is french and spanish) / maths, and there are some fun perks depending on which you pick! (the final list may be tweaked a little, but this is the most recent one!)

as for whether it’s a stand-alone - i’d love to have a book 2! i can’t really talk about the plot or premise because spoilers but i really like ideas i’ve been kicking around so far! i’m still working fairly slowly but consistently (for now, while school’s on holiday), so i’ll have to see how it goes. (the story itself will essentially last for as long as everyone’s stuck in the ski lodge - assuming mc lives that long...!)

[sunshineysprinkles]

Morning update from my last ask! Thank the stars for acetaminophen and sleep, I'm doing so much better now 💜💜💜 -Cam

oh! i'm so happy to hear it omg (': modern medicine is a thing to be marveled at sometimes, huh! i hope the rest of your day is/has been just as pain-free! sending so many good vibes for you rn, like discovering a really cool, subtle instrumental part to a song after listening to it with headphones for the first time

i am once again asking u to hydrate my guy-drate <33 xx

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Lightning in a Bottle | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: None :)

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Music is Edmund’s love language, apparently. 

Request: Hey! Could you possibly do a cute high school au with Edmund? Maybe they’re both crushing on each other and everyone knows except themselves, anything you wanna do really haha 😂 thanksss :)

A/N: Thanks for the request!!  God, I love Edmund so much. And here, we have indie boi Ed. This oneshot is inspired by  Electric Love by Børns. (Specifically, the video linked) This is one of my favorite songs, and I thought it fit the indie-main-character-high-school vibe :) I didn’t really nail the “everyone knows but them” thing, but still crushes! Enjoy ~

masterlist | here is a playlist of the songs in the mixtape mentioned | read on ao3

Edmund Pevensie was obsessed with listening to music, particularly with old musical technology. While it wasn’t uncommon to have a fascination with cassette tapes or vinyl records, it hit a special chord within Edmund’s heart. Something about listening to music, old and new, on the outdated tech made the music sound better, hit harder, and stick in his mind better. He was the type of guy who took the AUX on long car rides to play one of his thousand Spotify playlists. 

Another notable thing about Edmund was that he was very intelligent with very high standards for himself. He was a natural at academics, having been in advanced classes since he was young, and he was the guy everyone hated in math class. After dozing off in class, and mouthing off to the teacher every now and again, he still came out as the teacher’s favorite and a straight-A student. 

The majority of the time, though, he tended to keep to himself. While he was genuinely liked by his peers and was rather charming, he didn’t really consider anyone his friend. Unlike his older brother, Peter, he liked to remain closer to the shadows with earbuds in his ears. He knew he could never fill his brother’s shoes; Peter had basically come into Cair Paravel High School to be captain of the soccer team. He was so good that even though his grades were subpar at best, he received a full-ride scholarship to Archenland University to study sports medicine and play on their soccer team. 

Then there was his older sister, Susan, who won her Student Body President campaign by a landslide. Everyone liked Susan; she was patient, gentle, and got along with pretty much everyone. She too got a pretty large scholarship to Beruna State College and is double majoring in child education and European history. 

Finally, there was Edmund’s little sister, Lucy. She was only a freshman at Cair Paravel, and very into student council. Edmund thought she was practically made to be an ASB kid; she was excited, friendly, and much too kind. Lucy made the switch to high school seamlessly and had a big group of friends by the time the final bell rang on the first day. 

Edmund was a senior now and he couldn’t wait to get out of high school. The people were unintelligent, he was constantly compared to his siblings and he was ready to start his life. Edmund had high ambitions to become a lawyer, specifically criminal law. He didn’t really have much to leave behind at this school, so he was just trying to get through it as soon as possible.

One thing he would miss was the quiet girl that sat behind him in his music appreciation class. Edmund didn’t really want to take the class, but at the last minute, he discovered he needed to fulfill an arts credit to graduate. He appreciated music and liked easy classes, so he chose this one. Little did he know it was mostly analyzing classical pieces. 

Y/N was super cute in Edmund’s eyes. She always mumbled sarcastic comments whenever their easily excitable teacher, Mr. Tumnus, would stretch when over-analyzing a stanza of music. By the time October passed, Edmund had grown quite fond of the girl. She almost always was reading a comic book of some sort instead of paying attention in class. Y/N even ended up lending Edmund a few for his viewing pleasures; he always made sure to return them in the exact condition he received them. Batman seemed to Y/N’s favorite. 

Y/N loved watching Edmund write. He held his pencil wrong and always had ink smudged all over his hand. Maybe it was because he was a leftie, or maybe it was because he wrote too fast. Probably a little bit of both. His handwriting was also weirdly slanted to the right, which didn’t make any sense to Y/N. He was left-handed but his letters slanted to the right? Not the mention how half of it was in cursive and half of it was in print. It was definitely messy but, oddly enough, still intelligible. 

“What are you listening to?” Y/N asked Edmund. “Better not be Christmas music. Christmas was last month.”

Edmund pulled an earbud out of his left ear and turned so he was sitting horizontally in his chair. He leaned an arm on the top of her desk and grinned. “Currently, I’m listening to Can I Call You Tonight? By Dayglow. What are you reading?” 

“Currently, I’m reading Volume 1 of The New Teen Titans,” Y/N copied Edmund. “I’ve never heard of Dayglow, are they good?” 

Edmund smiled, offering her his earbuds. “Listen and see for yourself.” 

As she listened Edmund searched her face for any clue to what she’s thinking. Her face housed a small smile so he concluded that she enjoyed it. Once the song ended, she took out one of his earbuds and placed it on her desk. 

“I like it,” She concluded, listening to the next song. 

“Good, so do I. It fits my mood for today.”

“What’s got you so happy today? You have a great way of showing happiness, by the way.” Edmund was dressed in all black with his hood up. Edmund rolled his eyes. 

“What I can’t be in a good mood?” 

“I never said that, Pevensie. You just look very Edmund-y today.” Y/N pulled the other earbud out of her head and held them out to him.

“No, keep listening. I’ll play some music for you throughout class and maybe you can tell me what you think at the end?” He pulled his hood off of his head and smoothed out his hair. “And what do you mean Edmund-y?”

“I don’t know, all black, hood up, dead look in your eyes.” 

“I don’t have a dead look in my eyes!” Y/N giggled at her own joke. “Just for that, I’m going to take this.” He snatched the open comic book that laid open on her desk. 

For the remainder of the class, Edmund dictated what Y/N listened to from his phone. He played everything from The Beatles, to The 1975, to COIN, to Duran Duran. Every now and then, Edmund would peek his head back to see her eyes glued to the back of his head. Her body swayed to the music almost lazily, and a smile graced her features. For some reason that made his stomach feel fuzzy. 

She returned his earbuds at the end of class, and he returned her comic. 

“That was fun,” Y/N complimented, shoving her materials into her bag. “I like the get better song you played.”

“I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers,” Edmund corrected her as they left the classroom. Music Appreciation was the class of the day for them, seeing as they were seniors who left at lunch, so the two started making their way towards the parking lot. 

“You have to meet your sister right?” Y/N asks, pulling out her I.D. so she could leave campus. “The really sweet freshman girl? Honestly, you two are so different I wouldn’t have guessed you were siblings.” 

“Oh, Lucy, yeah. We grab lunch every Thursday before I drop her back off for the remainder of her classes.” The two showed their I.D.’s to the campus aid and walked into the parking lot. 

“That’s sweet. We should grab lunch sometime, or something. It could be fun! We could do our analysis questions about Bach.” Y/N started to walk in the opposite direction and Edmund felt his cheeks warm. Luckily, Y/N’s back was now towards him. 

“Yeah, sure. Don Giovanni, right?” 

Y/N’s laughter could be heard as she grew further away. “That’s Motzart, Pevensie!”

Edmund shook his head and met Lucy. She was leaning against his car looking bored. 

“Who was that? Is that your girlfriend?” Lucy asks, opening the door once Edmund unlocks the car. This made his cheeks flush more. 

“No, she’s just the girl that sits behind me in Tumnus,” Edmund puts the key in the ignition and starts the engine. 

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not, Lucy. It’s just hot in the car, it’s been sitting out here for ages.”

~

 One day in the middle of March when Y/N walked into Music Appreciation, she noticed a small rectangle box on her desk. Upon opening it, she found a cassette and a note. The note looked as if it was typed using a typewriter. 

Y/N,

I’m not very good when it comes to words, but I’m good when it comes to music. Hopefully, this says it all. Enjoy, my love. 

Side A //

Electric Love / Børns

I Love You So / The Walters

Fallingforyou / The 1975

Your Song /  Elton John

Someone To You / BANNERS

Side B //

Babe, Can I Call? / The Hunna

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) / The 1975

Luv, Hold Me Down / Drowners

love somebody like you / joan

TV Dream / Larkins

Y/N didn’t recognize most of the songs, but just reading the titles made her blush. 

“Mr. Tumnus? Did you happen to see who left this on my desk?” She held up the cassette so he could see. He shook his head. 

“No, sorry.”

Other students started to trickle in and soon the bell rang, no trace of Edmund. It wasn’t uncommon for him to skip this class, it was basically pointless, but it made Y/N sad every time he wasn’t there. 

The door swings open and a drenched Edmund steps into the classroom. Without even looking up, Mr. Tumnus addresses him. 

“You’re late again, Mr. Pevensie.”

“Sorry, I got stuck behind a group of Sophmore girls who wouldn’t move.”

“In the rain?” Mr. Tumnus raised an eyebrow.

“No, if it was in the rain I would be wet right now, sir.”

He plopped into his seat and started raking his hands through his wet hair. His cheeks were slightly rosey, as were his nose. His lips were pinker than usual and they stayed slightly parted. Hair stuck to his forehead as he ran his fingers ran through it and the hair on the nape of his neck dripped down his back. Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him with her jaw unhinged. 

“What’s that?” He whispered, noticing the open present on Y/N’s desk. He had taken up sitting horizontal in his chair at all times so he could more easily talk to Y/N. 

“It’s a mixtape. It was left on my desk when I got here,” Y/N responded and handed him the note. Edmund took it and began to read; his eyes scanned the paper and his lips moved slightly as he read. Y/N couldn’t help her this time, so she allowed herself to stare. His lips were always so pink and so puffy. She fantasized about how soft they must be. 

“Wow, looks like someone really likes you,” He comments, placing the paper back on her desk. “Do you have a cassette player?”

Y/N didn’t even consider that. Who the hell has a cassette player in the year 2020? Apparently, her answer was evident on her face, and Edmund chuckles. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a walkman and a pair of earbuds. 

“Here, you can have mine. I got a new one last month and I don’t really use this one as much.”

Oh, Edmund has a cassette player in the year 2020. 

Y/N smiled, taking the player from his hand. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Wouldn’t want you to miss out on those songs. Whoever made that has good taste, you’re lucky.” 

~

When Y/N got home tonight, she took out her walkman. It sat easily in her palm, just big enough for the cassette to fit inside. On the bottom, “E.P.” was scratched into the plastic. She smiled and put her mixtape inside. 

As she listened, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Edmund. They had grown much closer in the past few months, even going lengths to hang out outside of school. Y/N learned that not only was Edmund extremely intelligent, but he was the funniest person Y/N had ever met. He always had a sarcastic comeback or joke to offer her, no matter the subject. He had also let many of his walls down, letting Y/N get to know him better. It all felt so comfortable and natural. No longer was he just the cute guy from Music Appreciation, but he was the pain in the ass that Y/N had fallen for. And Y/N had fallen hard. 

Against her first impression of the mixtape, Y/N had actually heard all of these songs. After the first day in January, Edmund had lent her his earbuds near-daily and she would listen to whatever he played for her. Her eyes widened. 

Why would Edmund carry around a cassette player he didn’t use? And to school for that matter? And the note; it was typed because Edmund had such distinct handwriting! Y/N rewound the cassette and listened to it again. Why didn’t she realize in the moment?

~

“Hello, Y/N,” Edmund greeted in the parking lot the morning, he happened to park next to Y/N. He gripped the coffee in his hand and got his backpack in the trunk. “How are you on this fine morning?”

“Tired, I stayed up, like, half the night listening to that cassette I got yesterday.” Y/N slung her own backpack over her shoulder. He closed his trunk and locked his car. 

“Yeah? And what did you think?” The two started walking towards the building. 

“I thought that the songs all sounded oddly familiar.”

Edmund took a long sip of his coffee. “Like you’ve heard them before?” 

“Mmhm,” Y/N hummed and walked onto campus. She held one of the straps of her backpack as she walked. “Almost as if this dumbass guy I know played them for me a while back,” Y/N’s voice was teasing and light. 

“Yeah? Who is this guy?” Y/N stopped walking and looked up at Edmund. 

“Thanks for the mixtape, Ed.” 

“Whaaaat...just because this guy has great taste in love songs doesn’t mean it was me. I’m flattered though, really,” Edmund took another long sip of his coffee. 

“Oh, what a pity. I actually got excited when I figured out it was you. Considering normal people don’t just carry cassette players in their backpacks. Especially not ones they don’t use anymore.” Y/N’s voice was thick with sarcasm. 

“Excited?”

“Yeah. I’ve kinda liked that Edmund guy for a while, but he doesn’t like me back so…”  

“You like me back?” Edmund was grinning from ear to ear. 

“Yes, babe, I like you back. I have since October since I started letting you borrow my comics,”

Edmund placed his coffee on a bench and pulled Y/N closer to him by the hips. 

“October, huh?” Y/N smiled bashfully at Edmund’s tone but nodded. 

“What? You’re cute, I couldn’t help myself. Plus, now you make me cute mixtapes.”

Edmund leans down and places his lips against hers. They were just as soft as she had imagined. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers quickly finding the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls away and leans his forehead against hers. 

“Be my girlfriend, then?”

“You nerd,” Y/N took a small step forwards and pecked his lips again. “I would love to.”

[himbowelsh]

Hello! :) Can I request a modern AU HC for Gene Roe? 5, 7, 12? Thank you!!!

times they are a-meme-ing   ( accepting! )

5.    top five favourite things not available in their canon verse.

Lowkey, he kind of loves Cinnabon? Like, it’s very rare that he’ll actually go into one  ---   he just enjoys the vibe, especially the smell of baked goods. A few late shifts have been sustained on nothing but black coffee and a cinnamon roll  ---  while he’s subjected to Renee loudly worrying about his diet, of course. If Gene’s going to die young, it will be with the taste of fast food pastry on his lips.

Gene loved the Power Rangers as a kid. He was just genuinely into them. He was the blue ranger for Halloween one year, and ended up wearing the costume for a long time afterwards  ---  which was a problem for several reasons. One, Louisiana’s climate is not friendly to full-face helmets. Two, backflips might look easy, but they’re really, really not. That’s the second time Gene broke a bone as a kid.

Ambient sound mixes on YouTube. He won’t listen to playlists when trying to focus, and he’s not into ASMR...  but a bit of white noise in the background, like a coffee shop or a rainy night? Yes please, that immediately get’s Gene’s brain into Focus Mode.

Tik Tok dances, just for the pleasure of watching his friends attempt to learn them. The first time Babe accidentally elbowed himself in the face, it was alarming. By the fifth time, nothing makes Gene laugh harder.

Fuzzy socks. Listen  ---  Gene’s got a collection, okay? Different patterns, different textures...  his feet are like ice, he needs a little support.

7.    one example of a significant change in their backstory now that the world’s changed.

So, look, I always portray Gene as a medical student or some variation therof in a modern au  ---  it fits his character perfectly, it’s most similar to canon, definitely the most popular interpretation in the fandom! Except without the war...  I’m honestly not sure Gene would do that? Like, being a medic made him “Doc”...   and since historically Gene had no interest pursuing medicine after the war, I wonder what his modern interpretation would feel.  Maybe he’d still feel inclined towards the profession because he grew up watching his grandmother heal; in any modern au, I think that would be Gene’s driving motivation for becoming a doctor, but there’d still be days where he was conflicted about it.

12.    name a few of their favourite pieces of popular culture.

Oddly enough, he knows...  a lot of Taylor Swift songs? Like, he has a large repertoire. Knows all the classics. The FBI could interrogate him for hours and Gene would still vow he’s not a Swiftie, but he knows all the songs, okay.

I can think of things he’d definitely hate. Like, Grey’s Anatomy? House? E.R.? Get out of here with your inaccurate medical dramas, making the general public think doctors have nothing better to do on shift than get weird in the break room. Gene has thoughts about Grey’s Anatomy, okay, and none of them are good. 

He’s probably lowkey a Star Wars nerd. Like, he doesn’t have any of the stuff now, but he owned some comic books when he was a kid, he’s definitely seen all the movies...  and they have a very dear place in his heart. 

[satonthelotuspier]

ooooh could you do the "get out of my head" prompt pretty please? I love them vibes...

Thank you so much for the prompt RJ, I’m just sorry it took me so long to get my brain in gear, I was having a bit of a creative nope and my mind was full of character study instead. You didn’t specify a pairing so I went with some Modern XiYao, with a less manipulative MY than I normally write. Hope you enjoy it.

Prompt is from this list here 

“Hey!”

Lan Xichen had just drifted off to sleep when Meng Yao’s voice sounded stridently in the room; he jerked awake to feel the bowl of noodles that had been tipping over snatched out of his hands.

He blinked to try and clear his foggy mind, rubbing at his face in confusion.

“That was nearly a mess” Men Yao informed him and placed the bowl on the table beside the couch.

“Hmm” Lan Xichen agreed, not quite knowing what he was agreeing to, “Sorry” he managed eventually.

Meng Yao eyed him with an odd look on his face; it was something approaching tenderness, but considering Meng Yao didn’t have those kinds of feelings it must be the sleep clouding his mind.

That look of tenderness, if that’s what it had been, vanished then, and his expression returned to it’s usual, pleasant openness.

That someone as emotionally closed off as his room mate had a face that automatically settled into that kind of expression was ironic; it didn’t look fake but it was one hundred percent purely skin deep.

“Aren’t you meant to be meeting Nie Mingjue for drinks later? Shall I cancel for you? You look like you’re about to drop” there was a watchfulness in Meng Yao’s dark gaze as he made the offer, as if that was his wish, not that he should have any reason to care either way; Lan Xichen didn’t think he was the kind to feel left out just because their friend had asked to see Lan Xichen alone as he wanted to talk privately with him. “I think you need an early night”

“No, its alright, I won’t stay out late”

“You can’t drive in that state” Meng Yao argued, and Lan Xichen wondered at the fact it really did seem like Meng Yao didn’t want him to go. He’d have to apologise later for leaving him out.

“I’ll take a taxi, Mingjue-xiong will make sure I get home in one piece. I’m going to shower quickly to see if it will wake me up a little”

He didn’t see Meng Yao again before he left for the bar Nie Mingjue had arranged for them to meet at.

Once he arrived at the bar he felt a little underdressed; he’d changed into dark jeans and the Pikachu hoodie Meng Yao and bought him as a joke, poking fun at his insular, upper class upbringing which meant he’d had no idea at all what the heck a Pikachu was when Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue had waxed lyrical about the latest Pokemon releases as room mates at University; stupidly it was his favourite item of clothing.

Nie Mingjue had obviously come straight from work though, he looked every inch the impressive prosecutor he was becoming in his business suit that emphasised his powerful shoulders and narrow waist. He would be a physically intimidating sight in a court room for any opponent.

“Xichen” the other greeted as he slid into the booth across from Nie Mingjue and ordered tea. Tempting as coffee was he was probably functioning on nothing but pure caffeine by this point and he needed to be able to sleep later so keeping his intake as low as possible was sensible. “You look exhausted, have you just come off a double shift?” Nie Mingjue’s voice was obviously worried, “You should have asked to rearrange”

Lan Xichen acknowledged he’d just come off a double shift with a nod, “It’s fine, it’s so hard to sync our schedules it might be weeks before we’re able to meet again, and you said you wanted to talk to me”

Was it Lan Xichen’s faulty, tired brain or did Nie Mingjue look worried now?

“Why don’t you ask your family for help Xichen, you can’t keep working yourself like this”

“I’m fine, my Uncle made it clear if I decided to follow a career in medicine and not in the family company I was on my own. I’m fine with that; I’ve proved I’m more than capable of managing on my own, haven’t I? Why would I go back now just to make it easier? He’d just throw another ultimatum at me, and I’ve worked too hard to throw all this away”

Nie Mingjue reached across the table and took Lan Xichen’s hand, a move that stunned Lan Xichen into stillness.

“You’ve amazed me for as long as I’ve known you, Xichen. You are so strong and driven and determined to succeed its inspiring. You must know how I feel about you Xichen, that I’ve loved you for a long time and want to be with you”

***

Meng Yao laid out on his bed and scowled up at the ceiling. He felt an unfamiliar, knotted tension in his stomach, one which had formed virtually from the moment Nie Mingjue had told him he intended to ask Lan Xichen to start dating him finally, after years of being in love with the clueless himbo.

The thought had bothered Meng Yao so much he was unable to pretend he didn’t have the same feelings for Lan Xichen any longer, despite swearing for as long as he could remember his personal creed was that love was a destructive, dependant emotion he had no intention of experiencing himself.

Well the joke was on him.

He wanted so much to be happy for his friends; Lan Xichen deserved to be cherished and there was no doubt Nie Mingjue did, and would.

But he selfishly wanted to be the person to do it.

He threw an arm across his eyes and groaned in frustration.

He had to act happy for Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue; no one was ever going to find out about these stupid feelings.

But the idea of spending the following years on the outside, watching their happiness and contentment grow made him feel physically sick.

He heard the door and shot upright on his bed; he hadn’t expected Lan Xichen to be back so soon. Was he really going to have to go out there now and pretend happiness for the new couple so soon?

He could always pretend to be asleep. Then leave the country tomorrow morning.

But eventually morbid curiosity won out and he made his way quietly to the sitting room. He was surprised to find Lan Xichen sat there, alone, with a shell-shocked expression on his tired face.

He went to sit next to him, curious.

“So, Mingjue-xiong…”

Lan Xichen quickly glanced at him, “You knew?” he asked carefully and Meng Yao nodded.

“You could do so much worse, Mingjue-xiong loves you, he has such a promising career, he’s good looking, you get on well with Huaisang…” he ticked off the reasons on his fingers.

“I said I didn’t know. It threw me completely-” if anyone else had said that Meng Yao would have thought they were being deliberately coy but Lan Xichen really was that clueless about the other people’s feelings for him, “-I had thought…I mean I hoped…I didn’t really think of Mingjue-xiong like that before” he finished lamely, but Meng Yao was a quick, intelligent creature and he divined the implication before he even had time to assess what it meant.

“So you told him you didn’t know…”

“I…”

“If someone else were to ask you. Lets say me for example, would you have known how to answer me?” he didn’t give Lan Xichen time to form his sentence, or his thoughts.

“I…” Lan Xichen turned paler, if it was possible.

He moved in one fluid motion, sliding astride Lan Xichen’s lap and pressing him against the back of the sofa with his hands on his shoulders.

“The very fact you said to Nie Mingjue that you didn’t know, the fact you couldn’t just tell him yes, means no. He’ll realise this too, he’s not stupid”

“Get out of my head, Meng Yao!” Xichen caught Meng Yao’s wrists but made no move to push him away.

“Never, it’s where I belong. It should always be full of me and only me. If I said I loved you, would you know how to answer me?” he asked again and he saw the resistance in Lan Xichen’s eyes crumble.

[some-sort-of-talisman]

My witchcraft is ...*funny.*

I love candlework and aroma work, I pull cards, I interpret dreams, I cast protection spells. I collect & charge crystals and I grow herbs. I love rocks and I love the ocean. I dont particularly like the "outdoors," I'm certainly not a cottage witch, I'm very much a city witch that escapes to the coast now and then. I do tiny personal celebrations of the full moon. I'm bad at remembering practical witch holidays (I'm trying, I really am, but *what even* is time anymore?)

I prefer doing my work alone, at night. My wife supports me but doesn't want to be involved. She is of the belief that believing gives power, and while she very well may be right, she doesn't want whatever I meddle about with to have power over her, and I respect that. We had... Let's say, a bad experience, with a neighbor who believed very very deeply, and wished us harm. I spent most days angry and terrified, and while she was angry too, she refused to believe what he did had power over us. I wasn't so fortunate, two fold, because not only did I believe what he was doing, it was immediatly directed at me. Aaaaanyway...

All I'm saying is i practice, I believe, I divine, I inspect, i find great joy in learning more, I am a witch. And many of the generalized terms don't feel like adequate labels. But I'm constantly learning and absorbing and staying engaged in whatever ways *feel right* to me. I babble over candles (I hesitate to say pray, because I don't believe in 'God' nor do I follow dieties. I believe in a higher power and astrological reason, but I don't think it's any One Power, nor do I feel reliant on anything else or compliant to anything else.) I follow a rule of humanity, I believe spirits surround us, and I try incredibly hard to be respectful.

I ask my spells in a slightly demanding way, yet an understanding way. I provide my own loopholes strictly because I'm empathetic enough (and maybe *too* rational) that if they go wrong, I believe it's For A Reason, and not because what I asked for was too much or incorrect or wrong. That doesn't mean I'm not willing and able to learn more, and focus that energy better in the future.

I follow general lore and rules for my crystals, I also follow medical and scientific rules for my crystals. I believe in herbal tea as much as I believe in modern medicine (caffeine and chamomile are great. But they're no match for Naratriptan on migraines. Love a good cleanse & meditation, but it won't stop Measles.) I don't take from nature what's already been given (If a spell needs local flowers, I'll grab discarded petals, rather than clip anything). If a spell calls for herbs, listen, I live in a tiny city apartment. If I have to go to my cooking cabinet for these herbs versus growing and drying them myself... As long as the intent is there, I think I'm doing pretty good.

But I'll admit I'm learning. I'm growing. I have innate gifts, and I listen closely to the vibes around me. That doesn't mean I'm purely magic alone - research and practice are required. My dream dictionary is next to my bed, next to the notebook I record in. My tarot cards are next to a quick reference book, and then there's the internet if something feels "off." I can't always see the full moon, between clouds and buildings, but that doesn't mean I don't place my crystals in the most moon-facing window when the moon is full.

Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

I believe intent matters the most and the rest is hocus pocus. It can help, and empower, whatever your intent is, when you get the correct ingredients and crystals and space and incense - Of course! The spells were documented for a reason! But make the best of what you have and never stop learning.

I am a hodgepodge lunar city witch, a term I've never heard before.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[missguomeiyun]

☕ in Korea #4 - Coffee Hanyakbang

This post will seem like a photography post bcos I took a lot of photos at this cafe (you’ll see why!). The aesthetics of the place was amazing & unique.

Very unassuming “entrance”. Underneath the white-blue-white banner, there is a narrow alley with a width that spans approx. 1.5m.

Yeah. .. it’s tight.

After some twists & turns, you’ll find yourself in a very narrow alley that is like ~1m in width. The above is the entrance to the cafe, called Coffee HanYakBang.

You’ll see the door opening up to a space on the right, & a steep staircase that leads to the upper level.

What can you tell me / what are your thoughts on this coffeeshop based on its entrance?

Very vintage-vibes, right? It looks very “worn”, & almost as if you’re entering a film set or you traveled back in time to the modernization era of Korea.

Interior.

The design of this place, along with the owner’s attitude towards coffee, is what makes this place worth a visit.

What is “hanyakbang”? “HanYakBang” is a Korean term for “traditional Korean herbal medicine shop”- in other words, kind of like an olden day pharmacy, where the doctor/herbalist grinds natural ingredients to make something healing out of it, thereby allowing customers to “get better”. The owner of this coffeeshop believes coffee serves the same purpose - what you do with the beans -----> what the final product turns out to be .. the goal is to achieve a *healing* cup of coffee.

He is serious.

As such, the layout & interior design of this place, esp this main level/store front, was made to look like an old pharmacy. Besides the decor, equipment they use here also appear to be very used & worn. It really looks.. . complete.

Love the water thermos’, the ratio, & the light.

This should not be an unfamiliar piece of furniture if you’ve watched Asian dramas haha this cabinet is an olden day herb storage cabinet.

Scissors, abacus, notebooks. ..

Taking a step back to admire the aesthetics.

Even the paper they use is off-white & slightly crinkled.

The ceiling.

The main floor was full of customers, but right after I finished paying, the table that a couple occupied cleared out, & so I got a seat by the window. To my right/behind me, I have this view.

To my immediate left, I can see the narrow alleyway, & more seating space (that belongs to the same coffeeshop).

I came here pretty late in the evening... like almost 9pm. I felt like a dessert, so I ordered an affogato.

Just the right amount of both components~

For those who don’t know me, I’m saying it now: I don’t like vanilla ice cream! It’s so plain.. . & some vanilla ice creams I’ve had in the past were sooo sOO sOOOOoooO sweet! I can’t not agree to the fact that it’s a classic, but it’s a classic I don’t particularly enjoy. When it’s with other things, maybe. It’s tolerable lol.

Anyway, Coffee HanYakBang didn’t have any other dessert options, & I wanted coffee but didn’t want the usual Americano, so I got had a compromise for myself: espresso & vanilla ice cream = affogato.

I ended up liking it a lot! The espresso was super strong. Loved it! The espresso hits you really hard but then the ice cream starts to melt & the sweetness diffuses across your palette, & altogether, it had a healing effect.

Now let’s explore the other parts of the cafe~ (this is literally what I did that evening haha I finished my affogato, & just wandered around)

To begin, the coffeeshop is divided into 2 spaces that are entirely separated. The “entrances” of both spaces are located on ground level, & face other. Both spaces occupy 3 levels of the building that its in. All the floors have diff layouts & furniture, but the vibes are similar. In the above photo, majority of tables are old-school desks.

Got a large group? This place has you covered! They have a handful of long tables/bench seating.

Each floor has a small self-serve area (some stationed in the corner; others stationed in the middle), where you can get some water, napkins, & there’s separate compartments for garbage (plastics, paper, trays that belong to coffeeshop/to-stay mugs, etc).

Vintage-style office chairs & a fish tank.

Gangster movie vibes haha

Super steep stairs.

I don’t know how to describe the place- it’s like very old-looking but it’s well-kept & tidy everywhere. Even though there are self-serve stations, & ppl leave their trays & stuff, ppl are very considerate & well-mannered. There’s no staff on each level or in each building (that I’ve seen) who does rounds & cleans up. It’s all customers!

Actually, that’s what I’ve experienced everywhere in Korea- the locals are mindful & show respect. Rarely do you see ppl just getting up & going at a cafe, leaving their mess behind. They don’t do a thorough wipe-down, of course, but ppl ... know. Simple as that!

Heading down now. This these last few photos (after the affogato) were from the other building, not the side I was in. Now let’s head “upstairs” from where I was.

The area on this side of the coffeeshop was smaller; probably half the size of the other side.

But again, you still get that film set vibe haha so unbelievable this is a coffeeshop.

Windows.

The interior design, though!

The door. (The 3rd floor of this side is staff-only so the door was locked)

Looking up from the alley. The windows in the center of the photo on the 2nd floor were the white ones 3 photos above.

Waiting area outside.

Thank you for the wonderful & memorable experience! It’s like one of those places where it’d make you pick up a brush, dip it in some ink, & start writing a letter to your lover haha or calligraphy of heartbreaking poetry.

[leal-5]

Tomb of Time and Destiny: Chapter 6

Juvia POV

Before Mira left she unlocked my room with a smile. “Everyone will be gathering shortly in the dining hall. Would you like me to escort you and your sister?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Juvia…um…needs a moment.”

“Of course.” She nodded a little and exited.

I paced the floor, suddenly feeling on the border of insanity. What are we going to do? How long could we keep this up? And more importantly, where in the world are Lucy and Levy?! Are they in danger? Did they get captured by the enemy? Phantom Lord, I think. I halted my pacing as fear seized me.

No, I thought as I turned an yanked my door open. Juvia must believe that they are okay and that they're looking for us too.

Two strides later I'm reaching up to knock on Erza's door just as she opens it in a hurry.

“Juvia.” She says in relief. "I was just going to go looking for you."

“What are we going to do Erza? I said in English, stepping into her room. “What happened to our clothes? And what's up with this weird language and why can we suddenly speak it?! How are we going to get back? How are we going to find Levy and Lucy? Can we even get back without them?”

I hadn't even thought of that last part till now.

“Well, the time travel thing only worked when all of our hands were on the hand prints, so I would assume that to get back, all four of our presence is crucial. As for the rest of our fears…. I'm not so sure.”

I swallow and look down.

“T-they use magic Erza.” I whisper.

“…. I know.”

“That shouldn't be possible!” I said, mostly to myself. Erza nodded, deep in thought.

A silence hung in the air as we sat on the bed.

“Well,” She said after a moment. “Right now our main focus is finding Levy and Lucy and ensuring their safety.”

I nod. “In that case, we need to work on our story.”

Erza blinked at me.

“We can't just tell people we come from, say, 600 years into the future and we're looking for our sisters whom we lost in a magical tomb! We need a backstory! Geography and family is everything to these people!”

Erza ran a hand down her face in frustration. “We need more ti-”

A gentle knock at the door made us jump. “Erza?”

Erza looked like a deer caught in headlights as Jellal deep voice rumbled from behind the door. I didn't miss the light blush in her cheeks or the miniscule shake in her voice when she answered “Yes?”

I gave her a ‘You're so totally crushing in him’ smirk and she glared at me.

“It’s time to eat. Won’t you and your sister join us? Gray and I will escort you.”

Gray.

~Doki doki.~

A blush rose to my cheeks. ‘What the hell was that?! Calm down Juvia! He’s taken bacon! You aren't the type of girl to steal another girl's man!'

I lightly slap my face and shake my head wildly.

“Of course, please give us a moment.” Erza answered, shooting me the same look with a smug grin.

“I guess there was no way out of it.” I muttered with a glare. Mira and now Gray and Jellal all seemed bent on our heading to dinner.

Erza nodded and moved to the door, flipped the latch, and opened it. They stood here, a slight smile on their lips. We smiled hesitantly at them as they escorted us.

“Can’t quite tame your hair, can can you?” Gray said while looking to my hair, a gentle, teasing smile on his lips, trying to make conversation.

We passed a mirror he I could see that my hair was indeed a wind-blown mess. Curse these blue curls! If only I had Lucy’s silky, blonde, straight hair. “Oh,” I said in dismay.

“No,” he said, looking suddenly remorseful. “I only meant to say…” He clamped his lips shut a moment, then, “It reminds me of how you looked when we found you. Two nymphs of the woods trapped in a tomb, just waiting to be set free.”

I tried to swallow but found it difficult under his searching gaze. These guys were clearly intrigued. With us? Or just our weird story?

We moved down the corridor through to the courtyard. With this weird dress, my hair a mess, towers all around, and a couple of guards checking us out, I almost freaked out again, very aware of how far away home really was. But I managed to keep it together. Mostly.

“You two are the tallest women I’ve met.”

Well, that was no surprise. That was something that was mentioned everywhere we went. Frankly, I'm surprised they just now said something.

“J-juvia thinks we are going to get that a lot.”

“Yes, well, I rather like it. It’s far easier to hold your arm than Ava’s.”

“Or Carmen's”

They said their names in a mumble, as if realizing too late, that their compliments to us was a dig at their girl.

We entered the Great Hall. There was a long table on a slightly elevated dais at the front of the room where Makarov, Gray's friends, Ava, Carmen, and their peeps, that tall, thin man, and a few others were already seated. All the men rose to their feet, looking in our direction. Some sort of old-fashioned chivalry? I could feel the heat of a blush climb my neck and cheeks, as well as the piercing cold of Ava’s stare- along with the stares of girls who surrounded her, despite their gentle smiles. Below them, two tables stretched outward, each easily seating twenty. All the men at these tables also rose and looked our way.

Ava looked up at me sweetly as I took a seat across from her. “Miss Lockser, Miss Scarlet,  I trust you are refreshed?” She glanced left and right, all wide-eyed and innocent. Innocent Juvia's ass. “We feared you had taken sick when you did not appear to dinner.” Her glance moved to Gray, who was watching the exchange with interest, and held there. Yeah, right. You mean you hoped we’d gotten sick enough to die. You’re not fooling me or Erza. Gray and Jellal left our side and walked around the table, then stood behind his chair.

“We are quite refreshed,” Erza said. “Sorry for being late.”

Makarov rose and gave us a smile. “Don't worry about it. You are here now.”

I looked at my goblet an glanced at Erza. Nothing but wine to drink. No water. No juice. We had tried it before, but never had a whole glass. Erza tilted her head slightly an I nodded. We’d have to be careful. The last thing we needed was to get wasted and start yammering about modern medicine and space travel.

I took a tentative sip, analyzing the girl across from me.  She wasn’t the overly mean girl, she was the smarter, more dastardly popular girl who was always nice to your face and ripped you apart in the shadows. The one who managed to steal your boyfriend before you even realized she was a threat.

It was good that Lucy wasn’t here. This kind of girl routinely destroyed my naive, artsy, trusting ‘sis’. But me? Well, I’d never dealt with it personally, but I'd seen it before. Of course, I didn’t want to take her on. There was no need. I’d be out of here soon enough. But if she thought she had me figured out, she had another thought coming. “So…Ava. Please, tell Juvia about yourself. Where did you obtain such a fine, amazing dress?”

I'll admit, her dress wasn't really my style, but her friend, Carmen I think, smiled, obviously pleased by my compliments, and I sensed a bit of a thaw, but I didn’t get the same vibe from Miss FancyPants. She answered my question as Gray carved a slice of chicken for each of us. But while words were emanating from her rosebud lips, her eyes were fastened on me, considering me, considering her next move. Like chess players. I suddenly had the desire to take her on at a chess table. Knights and queens and horses on a table before me while I was literally surrounded by real knights and horses. How many people could say that? Ha!

But as much as we had to keep an eye on the cat with her claws barely concealed across from me, we were drawn into the banter of Natsu and Gajeel to our left, and across from them, Makarov and a sickly looking young man to his left. The young man, whom I guessed to be about twenty, looked at me and gave me a small smile and a nod. Had we been introduced? He seemed so familiar, and yet not. I could have sworn he hadn’t been there when I arrived.

Jellal saw the direction I was looking and stood. “Juvia, Erza, may I present my cousin Simon.”

“Miss Lockser, Miss Scarlet, welcome,” he said tiredly, but there was kindness and warmth in his eyes.

I felt Ava and her girl's bristle across from me. Oh, I get it. They didn’t want us to hook up with any of the boys here. Gray made other introductions, to Ava and Carmen’s ladies-in-waiting, the other knights, to Bora, the tall, thin man I’d seen earlier. Gradually, I learned that he was Ava's father’s trusted man, here to escort his charge and watch over her. Was it my imagination, or did the man look at me like us like we were the worst sort of nuisance?

“Miss Lockser, tell us of your sisters,” Makarov said, interrupting my thoughts. “Perhaps one of our people has come across her today.”

“Your knights were rather occupied, Father,” Gray said. Was there an edge to his voice? I glanced between him, his brothers, and his father, trying to figure out the dynamics there.

“Yes, and you all saw it through in fine fashion,” he said, like he really couldn’t care less. He turned back to me. “Miss Juvia and Scarlet, your sister? Describe them for us.”

I thought back. She’d been wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but lord knows if the tomb changed their clothes too.... Best to steer clear of the clothing. “They’re quite a bit shorter than both Juvia and Erza-“

“Thank the heavens,” Ava said, giggling. “How might we deal with four women so tall?”

I sent a fake smile in her direction and went on. “Especially Levy, she only comes up to Juvia's shoulder.”  I chuckle lightly as I say it.

Erza continued “Levy has short blue hair, a few shades lighter than Juvia's and Lucy has long, blonde hair-“

“Blonde?” Natsu repeated, clearly surprised.

“Gold. The color of straw, long and straight. They have brown eyes. They're both quite cute.”

Natsu rose, dragging Gajeel up with him. “Permission to go in immediate search of these young maidens, sir,” he said.

The other knights erupted in laughter. In front of us, two girls of Ava's posse bristled.

Jellal smiled but then waved them down. “They were not there when we found them. You know that as well as I.”

“Unless Phantom Lord somehow spirited them off,” said Gajeel lowly.

We looked down the table at him, alarm gathering in my chest. He was not joking.

Gray met my eyes and shook his head slightly. “She was not there. I swear it upon my grave.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn’t back at the tomb, I told myself. I didn’t leave her behind. There was no doubt in Gray’s mind.

Still, doubt lingered. “Could we… could we go in the morning? To be certain? I mean, we became separated. Maybe they took another path, and even now, are there, trying to find shelter for the night.” Erza asked.

“With castles within view? Why not beg shelter from us or even Phantom Lord?” Carmen said, her voice ringing with the echo of judgment. “Assuming she knows nothing of them, of course,” she quickly amended.

“This is a new land for us, far from home,” I said. “We were so lost, we became fearful of trusting anyone.”

“Logical,” Gray said, stabbing his chicken with his knife and placing it in his mouth.

I stared at him for a moment and then looked down to my own utensils. Only a knife. Well, this’ll be tricky…. The Pre-Fork Era.

“Tell us,” Makarov said. “Where are you from?”

Several people nearby leaned in, studying us.

I glanced at Erza an swallowed. We hadn't figured that much out of our story.

“Enough,” Gray said. “Father, she is our guest.”

“A guest we know precious little about. They could easily be a spy for Phantom Lord or even witches. Their hair color is not normal and their clothes are unusual."

I’m sure our faces showed our surprise and confusion. They thought we were spies or... witches?

I mean, the spy thing I guess could understand, but witches?!

“Juvia fears Juvia’s sisters are in grave danger,” I said. “If Phantom Lord is as dangerous as it seems, Juvia and Erza need to redouble their efforts to make certain they haven’t fallen captive to them.”

Ava coughed. Did I imagine that she muttered something about wishing we had both gone to Phantom Lord?

Beside me, Erza twitched slightly. She did not take well to people speaking ill of her friends. I tapped her knee twice in a discrete warning. 'Calm down Erza, not worth it.'

Jellal shook his head. "I don't believe they're witches. You should have seen their faces of shock when they witnessed our usage of magic! It is obviously unknown to them."

"And I don't detect any magic energy emanating from them." Natsu said while sniffing in our direction.

"Do you really think that we'd bring them if here was the slightest doubt in our mind?" Gray asked him. Makarov silently stared at us before nodding, trusting his sons judgement.

"Sir, we ask for your aid,” Erza says, setting down her knife. “Might your men help us search for our sisters, come morning? We won’t be able to sleep, we're very worried.”

The tall, thin Bora leaned forward, weaving his fingers together and studying us with clever eyes, but Erza's eyes never left Makarov's. "You have our word that once we find them we will return home! It will be as if we never crossed paths"

Makarov regards silently for a few moments as if sizing us up. "Where did you say you were from?"

I could read straight through Erza's stoic face and could see that she was panicking internally.

"Juvia and her sisters are from Bellum." I blurted out. Bellum. That knight from Phantom Lord asked us if we were from Bellum or if we were witches. Clearly, a witch was not a good thing to be, and our limited knowledge of the land leaves us with no choice. I can only hope this doesn't end up condemning us.

"Bellum?!" Jellal said shocked. "That's quite a ways from here!"

Makarov harshly stared both me and Erza down, analyzing us for lies or deception, before nodding slowly as if being from Bellum suddenly explained a lot about us.

“We shall aid you in your quest." Makarov said after a moment. “Take your rest. In the morning, our men will set out and report to you come evening. They are most thorough.”

“Juvia begs you to allow us to join them in searching for our sisters.”

Makarov’s face twisted in astonishment at my request. Then, after a breath, Simon leaned over and whispered in his ear. Makarov straightened and looked hard at us. “I had heard Bellum women were quite audacious, but I did not think so much so.... I grant you permission, even though I believe it foolhardy. Be advised that while my sons and his men won the day, it was but one battle in a long war with our neighbors. I can promise no rescue if you are captured. Or, indeed, if your sisters are already in their foul hands.”

“We understand.” Erza said with a nod. “Thank you.”

[osmw1]

Poison-Wielding Fugitive   Chapter 9

“That’s just about all I can help…” “Yes, you really helped me out!”

While acting as that we don’t have anything else to our relationship, I turn towards and look at Arleaf’s father.

“I heard that you buy marphina, so I gathered and brought some here…” “Ah, ahhh. Marphina, huh?” “Eh? You were out harvesting marphina? Are… are you okay?”

Arleaf asked in a worried tone after hearing us discussing buying and selling marphina.

“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be so energetic up ‘til now.” “Wow… you really are amazing. You must have a really high tolerance to poison if you were in that toxic swamp where marphina grows.” “Alrighty then, show me what you’ve got. We’ll be measuring it in grams.”

By the way, while I hear them say “gram,” it’s actually translated by Veno, so it’s probably some other word. It’s nice that it’s changed into an easy-to-remember word. Concluding that I know how storage magic, Arleaf’s dad brought out a set of scales. I pop out the marphina from thin air and load up the scales.

“You’ve picked a whole heck of a lot, hey? Even if you could cure poison with magic, it would be awfully tough work too.” ‘Just so you know, dried marphina is very much a luxury good. If consumed by humans, it will send them to the grave. It can also relief pain and stop bleeding, amongst other uses, but it is quite the difficult ingredient to use.’

Veno’s explanation is considerably worrying. Is this safe at all? This kind of stuff feels really outdated by modern Japanese standards. I see. As expected, I’ll be selling this for a lot of money. Well, for now, at least, I’ll just gloss over it. I wonder if it’s okay to be touching it so much.

“I can somehow deal with it with my magic, but it still makes me uneasy to hold it in my hand.”

I’ll try pretending to be experienced with this.

“Hmm… well, I don’t know your circumstances. Aye… you’ve wrung it out well. Some people like to water it down to make it heavier, but you’ve done your best to process it, huh?”

Process? I was just scraping it off however I could though. … ah, Veno must’ve done it for me.

‘I had the time to spare. I could also bring out the water wrung out from it too, if you wish. Though it is toxic.’

I don’t need that right now. The apothecary measured out the marphina I’ve brought and then places a bag of coins on the counter.

“The marphina this time comes out to 36,200 lag. Go on and count it carefully.”

It seems like lag is the denomination for the currency in this world. He then lines up each coin for me, but I don’t know the value of any of them right now.

“Wow… how incredible, Yukihisa. Even with you helping me out, I only managed to earn 3,000 lag today…”

What?! With a mountain of herbs in that basket, she only earned that little? I made nearly 12 times of what she did.

“That’s because you’re comparing yourself—an inexperienced girl—with a skilled adventurer who can cure poison well enough to harvest marphina. That’s the difference. Arleaf, we’re also apothecaries; to harvest raw materials isn’t exactly our job either.”

Would it… be a good idea to give Arleaf a cut of my profits? I’m getting that kind of feeling, but… I’ll be stuck as a novice for a while. Which choice would turn this into easy mode? It seems like Arleaf is helping her dad out for the time being.

‘Well, it is toxic moss that grows in a poisonous swamp. You will need to invest in specialized tools in the future to harvest it.’

Ugh… Poison Absorption (Weak) is pretty great, huh. Simply having affinity with poison might not be so bad after all.

‘While it is my intention for us to fulfill high-paying requests, the weapon I supplied is also worth a lot. I would not be so opposed to you doing so.’

You’re right. But, well… it isn’t like we brought back really valuable herbs either.

‘Not only are weapons expensive, but you also cannot underestimate the costs of lodging.’

That’s true. In RPGs, staying at an inn is fairly cheap, but in reality, inns are quite pricey. Then again, I don’t know how much adventurers can earn.

“Umm…”

I store away the money I received and turned to Arleaf.

“Shall we split this?” “No, no! You’ve earned that money all by yourself, Yukihisa! Rather, I should be the one thanking you for bringing all the herbs here and paying you instead.”

Arleaf’s head shakes from side to side, refusing the money.

“Nah, I was just on the way here anyway. Plus, you’re the one who saved me, so please don’t worry about it.”

After showing off how much more I made, I can’t possibly take any money from her. I’m not that shameless, and since I was a corporate slave doing software engineering, I like things to be fair. Above all, it’s important to help people in need. When I had time to spare, I would always help my coworkers out.

“I would feel awful taking money from you, so while I really appreciate it, no thank you.” “Arleaf. Perhaps it’s better for you to. You don’t get many requests, so if you earn some now—”

Her father stepped in and was about to say something, but he dropped it after sensing Arleaf wanting to murder him.

“… Father?” “Eek…”

Her father said no more, feeling the pressure coming from her. What is it? Is there something more?

‘A—Aye? She is considerably adept at displaying her urge to kill. I am sure that this girl would make for a fine warrior.’

I ignore Veno’s uncalled-for analysis. Maybe Arleaf has secrets she doesn’t want others knowing.

“Umm… aha ha ha.”

Arleaf forced a smile to hush up any more talk of this topic. I haven’t known her for long, but I get that she’s a good person. And being able to venture alone to a place like the swamp, that in itself makes her pretty powerful. It wouldn’t be good to make her feel indebted to me.

“Oh, right. Arleaf, I’m wondering if you have any acquaintances who run inns. It would really help me out if you could introduce me to them to get a good price.” “You’re cunning.”

Arleaf’s father spoke with vigilance. Dick. I’m the one who was unreasonably summoned to this alternate universe. Even if I were to admire your beauty of a daughter, you don’t think you’re being unreasonable to punish me for that?

“I—If that’s the case, then let me show you to one in the village.” “Mm, thanks a lot.” “Then, thank you very much for fulfilling the request. I hope you will help us out once again.”

What a canned line, saying it all monotonous like that. He’s basically chasing me out of the store with that. It seems like he would even throw salt over his shoulder after I leave.

“Hmm… I wonder how long you can ogle her for.” “Father!”

How unnecessary. What was that for? I guess she’s having some kind of problem? She looks so innocent, but does she have some sort of tendency to play around?

‘She is toxic, just like you.’

Shut up. Don’t defile her.

‘I thought you were the one to suggest it first?’

Since I have some money in my wallet, I can get Arleaf to show me an inn in the village. On the way, I verify the village a second time. It really is kinda… yeah, as I thought, deserted and giving off a bad vibe. Everybody’s also coughing like they’ve all got a cold. At least I can find solace in Arleaf. And so, Arleaf brought me to the village’s largest inn… or rather, one that’s two buildings down and kinda outdated.

“Welcome. Oh, it’s you, Arleaf.”

A slender middle-aged lady, looking like the proprietress, greets Arleaf from the counter. She seems like she’s got a cold too. She’s coughing once in a while.

“My medicine hasn’t run out yet, though?” “No, it’s not that. I’ve brought you a customer.” “Oh? Is that right?”

Arleaf gestures her hand towards here to introduce me.

“This is Mr. Yukihisa Cohgray. Would you please give him a good room?” “I—It’s a pleasure. I’m Yukihisa Kogure.”

Damn, I got tricked into introducing myself.

“Mr. Cohgray, is it?”

Arleaf does it too, but why do they turn Kogure into Cohgray? Is it pronunciation? It’s like they’re foreigners, pronouncing Japanese names all weird. Do they hear Kogure as Cohgray?

‘Kogure, like Kogure, aye?’

Veno only calls me by my name when it counts. But you say it right though.

‘They are both the same though. I am but using the translation skill I know.’

So, you mean you can speak both Japanese and this world’s language? How convenient. Man, I’m jealous.

“Umm, my first name’s Yukihisa, last name is Kogure.” “That’s quite the strange name. Do you come from foreign lands?” “Well, umm… yeah.” “Is that right… well, how about that far room down the hall on the second floor? Since Arleaf referred you here… with breakfast included, I can do 1,600—no, 1,500 lag per day.”

That’s half of what Arleaf earned today. Is that cheap? Should I show how generous I am and pay for Arleaf’s stay as well?

‘Did you see the prices at all? It says it is 2,000 lag per day with breakfast included. I briefly glanced at the big inn two buildings down when we passed by. A good room there will run you 6,000 lag. This is an extraordinary deal you are getting.’

I see. She’s giving it to me that much cheaper. It really shows how well-connected Arleaf is. It’s hard to get my head wrapped around how these prices are, but no choice but to take it.

“Thank you very much.”

After having Veno checking it over, I put 1,500 lag down on the counter. I received the key from the proprietress-like woman.

“If you would like hot water or a cloth for bathing, just let me know. I can prepare you bathwater for 30 lag.” “Alright.” “Are you planning to set up base in this village for a while? We do long-term stays here as well.”

Seems like she’s gonna sweeten the deal for me. However… will I make this village my base? Veno did say people are after me. If I have to avoid those guys, I think it would be dangerous to stay at the same place. Might be better to move on quickly…

‘At this stage, we are still gathering information. We should go by our circumstances in two, three days’ time.’

Understood.

“Alright, thank you then.” “You can pay me day-to-day. Adventurers like you often go away for days. It’d be great if you could tell me when you won’t be staying here.” “I understand.”

After greetings and introductions, I look towards Arleaf.

“Then, now is where I’ll take my leave.” “Yeah. We’ll see each other if we do.”

It would be great if everyone would be nice to me.

‘You, too, are being nice to that girl. For now, let us get to our room.’

Yeah, yeah. With that, Arleaf waves her hand, and I walk up the stairs in front of me. I head to the room at the end of the hall, like the proprietress told me to. It’s a relatively simple room, but it’s pretty big. The bed is… stiff. With that said though, the room seems to have been taken care of.

Well then… my clothes still feel pretty damp, but if I take them off and hang them by the window, they should dry up. I’m alright with jumping in a poisonous swamp but being all wet like this feels gross. I hurried to flop down on the bed. Ahh… I feel so at ease. Up until yesterday, I had been a corporate slave working on a hellish schedule. In comparison, this is comfortable.

‘You have been fighting on a difficult fight.’

Heh, don’t underestimate a corporate warrior. Whatever I was thinking about before, I snap back to the present. I have about enough money to stay for a month. The problem is whether my wanted poster is circulating yet. Until then, though, something’s gonna happen.

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread) (support Average Translations)

[one-night-story]

You Shine Bright as the Sun (Neal Caffery)

A/N: Concerning fave characters: I have very few needs. Neal Caffery checks off all of them. @thisgirlwearsacrown

Neal wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. The guy Peter pulled into questioning was relatively young looking with blonding hair and green eyes that scanned the room he was sitting in. He wasn’t panicking about the cuffs on his wrist, if anything he looked annoyed by them. Every once and a while the guy would look at him with curiousity and mischeviousness. Neal gave a small smirk in return which was recieved with a mirrored one.

“Peter, wanna explain why him?” Neal asked as Peter was power walking towards the room with a file.

“According to one of the guards, he’s been casing the whole building daily, if anyone saw our guy, it’s him.” Peter replied. Neal raised his eyebrow but went with it as they entered the room together. The guy sat up a bit in his chair and rotated his wrists in the cuffs.

“Hey, if this is gonna take a while, can I get a bowl of water?” He asked. Contrary to popular misconception, Jack did have some place he had to be. And with Travis and Jane staying over, he had to at least tell them if he was gonna be late or they’d send out a leigon looking for him. Jack watched as the two men who had walked into the room looked between each other. They silently decided to A) honor Jack’s strange request and B) Neal Caffery was going to do it. He stepped out of the room and Jack was left with Peter. He looked at the older man with slight suspicion. Then Jack raised his wrist to his face to grab the wire out of his bracelet. Neal returned with a cup of water as Jack finished jimmying the cuffs. The cup was set down on the table and slid to Jack. Jack smiled at Neal and let the cuffs drop to the table. He was almost gleeful about showing off to the prettiest man he had ever seen, and that most certainly wasn’t Peter.

“Sorry about that, can’t stand the chaffing.” Jack said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gold coin that immediately fascinated the other two men. Why the hell was he carrying that around? If Jack had the time, he would’ve explained that it was a drachma and he needed to call home. But he didn’t have the time so he let his actions speak for him. He flipped the coin into the cup and muttered something. Neal heard “Iris” and the names “Jane Harper” and “Travis Stoll” then the image in the cup appeared. Neal leaned over and saw a girl who looked relatively normal appear in the cup. He looked to Peter to see if he was getting any of this but he kept staring at the guy doing the summoning.

“Not now Jack, I’m in the middle of a ritual.” The girl said. Ritual? What the hell was this dude into?

“Relax Jane I’m not asking for bail yet.” He replied with a chuckle.

“Hang on, bail?!”

“Yeah, I’m at the FBI office, I’ll try and get this over with but I might be slightly late, hence the call.”

“Di immortales Jack, alright fine. I’ll hold off ordering pizza.” Jane replied. She then distrupted the image and Jack looked at the other men. Neal looked at him with morbid curiousity. Who was this kid?

“Now that you’ve gotten that settled, we want to ask you a few questions about your visits to the Met.” Peter said. Jack crossed his legs under him in the chair and tilted his head.

“What about them?”

“What were you doing there?” Peter asked.

“Casing it.” Jack replied with a shrug. Neal raised his eyebrows. No way, that was too easy. “It’s a hobby of mine, keeps my mind sharp. And it eases my nerves.” Jack added. Neal smirked. He was certainly not the average witness.

“If we were to show you a photo, would you be able to recognize it?” Neal asked.

“Probably, human mind is maluable but I try to pay attention to my surroundings.” Jack replied with a smirk. Peter rolled his eyes, God there was two of them. Peter slid the file to Jack who picked it up. “Oh yeah he was there, checking out some of the Egyptian and modern art pieces around the same time I was. I for one didn’t know there was a market for modern art but hey, learn something new everyday.” He said. Neal let out a small chuckle.

“Modern art and Egyptian?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, prodded him once. Said the Classics had been done and now it was time for different prey. I think he’s working for someone bigger. He gave me a weird vibe.” Jack said with a shrug. That weird vibe was the fact that he was most definitely a poorly disguised giant, but that would have only gotten him weird looks so he kept his mouth shut.

“A vibe?” Peter asked.

“Please don’t tell me I need to explain what vibe means old man.” Jack said with a look of disapproval. Neal smirked and could clearly be seen biting back his own remarks and Jack’s lips smirked once again. Anything to make sure Neal kept that look on his face.

“That’ll be all, thank you for your time Mr,” Peter started to say.

“Levy. Jack Levy.” He quickly filled the gap and offered his hand. Peter shook it reluctantly and Neal shook it with a look of curiousity.

“Levy huh? What does your mom do?” Neal asked.

“She’s a curator for the Royal Ontario Museum.” Jack replied. Neal made a gesture of recognition. He had met her once while casing that same museum. Though she was probably only an intern then.

“That’s what I thought. Pleasure to meet you Jack.” He said.

“Ditto to you Mr. Caffery.” Jack replied finally showing his cards. Jack let go of Neal’s hand and made his way out the door, hands shoved in his pockets and a casual swagger to his step.

“You don’t think our guy’s working for something bigger do you?” Peter asked. Neal, who was still watching Jack leave for any tells, gave a shrug.

“I say we’ve worked with less.”

*~*

Jane came out of her room after finishing her ritual to find Jackson Maxwell Levy draped on the couch like he had fainted into it. Travis stood at the end, Coke bottle in hand as he looked at Jack.

“What’s with him?” Jane asked as she walked over to stand next to Travis.

“He met Neal Caffery.” Travis replied.

“Who?” Jane asked. He had said the name with such certainty that Jane was only slightly afraid to learn the answer.

“Master forger! Conman extrordinaire! Art thief!” Jack said as he sat up only to collapse again.

“So he’s what, jealous?” Jane asked seeking clarification of what got her friend in this state.

“No, he’s horny. Caffery’s kinda attractive.”

“KINDA!? That’s like saying Vetruvius Man is only kinda the perfect proportion of man.” Jack replied. Jane had never seen him like this. Then again, she wasn’t certain she had heard Jack ever having a crush on anyone. Travis fished out his phone and Googled his mugshot the papers used when he escaped a judge’s office. He then passed the phone to Jane.

“Give him slightly longer hair now and what? Brown eyes?” Travis asked.

“Blue. Bluer than a Bahamas advert.” Jack replied. Jane had to admit, Neal Caffery was a looker. “Is this what the Levy Effect feels like?” He asked.

“Ah, I get it. He got a taste of his own medicine and now he doesn’t know how to handle it. Got it.” Jane said.

“Yeah pretty much.” Travis replied.

These were of course simpler times, and the story was only just starting.

[emmybluefire]

Technology in WoW

Alright. So for some of you: the title might set off a few red flags. But please bare with me. I promise I’m not angry this time XD

For those of you who don’t know: A few months back I made a post on my main Tumblr @fuzzywuzzms regarding my opinions on the subject. In it though, I was too swept up with the irritation brought on by my pet peeves, that I did not leave the topic open for discussion. That was very immature of me and I apologize sincerely to everyone who had the displeasure of reading it. Today though: I wish to rectify that mistake. WoW technology, how does it work? Where is it seen? How advanced is it? Lets have a discussion shall we? >:D

Overview

Technology in WoW is... weird. To say the least. Much of what we see in the game is sloppily done, and likely put in by Blizzard simply because: “It’s cool!” or “It’s fun!” , regardless of their lore. This has left many players confused on, well... what all is possible? What are it’s limits? Timewise, where does WoW stand as an advanced civilization? Are we stuck in the smoke and soot ridden times of the late Victorian era? Where industry, mass production, and machines were a very recent and brand new reality? Or are we more based in the late 1800′s to the early 1900′s? Where advances in medicine and science made HUGE strides towards a better life; and Electricity had only just been discovered.

Are we an early civilization? Where the sword, axe, and mace was prevalent on the battlefield; And wealthy families lorded over massive swaths of land. Or are we a hyper advanced SiFi civilization, where space, time, and interdimentional travel are commonplace?

Blizzard has Never been clear on where we stand as a society. When they introduce new bits of technology, they explain it away as being “Gnomish” or “Goblin” ... or something from a highly advanced culture thousands upon thousands of years ago, the Titans. Sloppy, undeniable, scapegoats. It’s rare that they ever explain anything like, why this technology was invented. How it works. What purpose does it serve... other than just- being cool?

If machine guns and flying machines exist: Then why does everyone still rely so heavily on avian creatures and mele weapons? What is even the point of the armor we wear? Because it’s definitely not going to protect you against ballistics. You know, other than just- being cool?

If electricity exists, then why isn’t it being utilized? Why is every household depicted in game still lit up by torches, candles, and fireplaces? Other than jus- fitting the fantasy vibe?

How is World of Warcraft even still a fantasy game? Well. The simple answer is, that’s just how it’s creators want it to be. They want it to be a fantasy game with steampunk and magitech elements just because, it’s cool. And in my opinion they succeed. It’s fiction. Suspend your disbelief.

But where has this left us? The Roleplayers? The Creators? Those who delve deeply into the game’s lore and fictional history, to create something based in this medium we all enjoy. Something that gives other WoW players FAR more content to enjoy. Content that -feels- like WoW. But most importantly. How far can we go before we start... killing the fantasy vibe with elements that are far too real? Things like refrigerators, hot showers, computers, televisions, phones?

Well, my friends. It seems like it’s time for a ramble.

Transportation

Most of WoW’s technology, at least to me, reminds me of the Industrial revolution. A point in time where machines were just starting to be developed. A time where Steam engines were prevalent, and the internal combustion engine was a very plausible and testable theory. Horses and other labor beasts were still used commonly at this time, but were beginning to fall in relevancy, as steam powered trains, boats, and outlandish carriages were taking over the scene. But, as of this time period... Electricity had not been discovered yet. And hence, people still widely used candles, lanterns, and other fire-containing objects to illuminate their homes.

Established: In WoW we see examples of this technology all over the place. Alliance gunships, Zeppelins, trams, the Northrend steamboats. All falling under one term: “Steampunk.” , a technological and musical theme centered all around steam powered engines and clockwork. For long distance transportation, these seem to be the go-to. But... this all comes with a conflicting caveat. 

Conflicting: If WoW is indeed supposed to be within a steampunk era, then why does the more advanced gas-powered technology exist? Why hasn’t it replaced everything? Remember, gas powered engines were still in development during the industrial revolution. Planes, helicopters, motorcycles... everything. And what do we as Roleplayers consider when looking at all of this?

This is the confusing part.

Medicine

Established: Wow’s medical practices are also widely unexplained. For the most part, what I see NPC’s doing as far as medicine goes is well... alchemy. Healing potions, herbal remidies, magic, and the like. Something VERY medieval, VERY supernatural, and VERY fictional. And yet, for our characters, it works! Its real! It’s efficient! And if this is the case: why then, are modern IV bags, needles, and pills a thing?

Conflicting: If this stuff works, and is common... why then did us Azerothians find the need to develop modern medical technology? Obviously what we’ve known all along works better. So what was the point of spending resources on something less... well, efficient? It doesn’t make much sense.

Where should we lean more towards as Roleplayers? Clearly the modern medical technology in WoW doesn’t have much lore behind it. Unlike the supernatural cures we have.

Warfare

Established:There’s no denying gnomes are clever little fuckers. They’ve invented MANY of the “modern” weapons and machinery we see in the game. High caliber machine guns. Mechanized exosuits. Tanks, explosives, and flying machines. They are also the very first race to have discovered electricity lore wise. AND! They are part of the alliance. Humanity has SO much power at their fingertips now! They can improve their lives, decimate horde armies, power their cities... and just overall improve their quality of liveing! The alliance has the power to take over the world! And yet... do they?

Conflicting: No. For whatever reason, the Alliance seems content to outfit themselves in inferior attire, and leave their cities wrought with filth. Which... well. Doesn’t make, ANY sense! Are they jus- too stupid reverse engineer gnomish tech and mass produce it for themselves? Clearly they have the resources to do so! So why the heck don’t they? Do the gnomes hoard it all for themselves? If so, why hasn’t that sparked a civil war?

Where do we, as roleplayers, draw the line when it comes to Gnomish tech? It seems as though Blizzard purposefully keeps it gnomish to avoid dismantling the overall fantasy feel of the world, and prevent deus’ex machina filled writing. Making themselves out to be “Good” writers when in reality there’s some HUGE continuity errors. If you wanted a western fantasy themed game... why did you include such advanced technology? What should we, as roleplayers, and aspiring writers, respect? Fairness? Or consistency?

Conclusion

Blizzard’s biggest issue with it’s lore has ALWAYS been consistency. They’re more concerned with WoW as a game, then as a story. Which, at the end of the day... isn’t exactly a bad thing overall. Blizzard is a company who’s focus is on making fun -GAMES- not writing great stories. That’s their primary aim as a company. And while I -do- wish we could have both a great game AND a consistent story, I can’t exactly blame them for prioritizing one thing over the other. It just put’s roleplayers like us in very tight, and fickle positions when trying to determine what the best aim is for our character. At least if we want to try and abide by lore. Much is up to interpretation, and personal preference. What we want to be possible, and what we don’t want to be possible.

Every person is different, and interprets the game’s lore differently. So conflicts of rationals are bound to happen. At the end of the day... all I can say is respect each others opinions, and go with the flow. If someone doesn’t like the fact that you have a high caliber machine gun jus- on hand, then respect that. If someone would rather believe their fireplace keeps their hearth warm rather than some electric heating system, then respect that too. Agree to disagree, and walk away. Enough said.

After all, that’s what roleplay is all about... right?

Thank you everyone SO much for reading if you got this far :D , truly, gestures like this mean a lot to me. So please, have a good day or night, wherever you may be, and have fun :D