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sarcastich · 3 years ago

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Crown Made Of Barbwire

Everyone got their wings, sooner or later.

Feathers of every color, size, variation.

They start as two little bumps on your back, itching like a growing tooth, around the same time you hit puberty. A bit earlier for girls, a bit later for boys. They grow over the course of your teenage years, and stop once all their feathers have reached their full size.

Some people could fly with their wings, some couldn’t. Most people’s wings were two meters on each side when they were outstretched.

Peter’s wings had only taken two years to grow fully, and were beautiful, pure-white angel wings.

He’d never seen anyone with wings like his. All the other white wings were more like snow owls, speckled with browns and grays, or had underlying colors that gave the top feathers a tint.

He couldn’t quite fly with them, but they were perfect for gliding. He’d scale the tallest buildings in his area, and get a running jump off of them, plummeting for a moment before he got pulled up and flew around the neighborhood until his wings got tired. Of course, you couldn’t just fly anywhere whenever you wanted to. You needed permits, licenses, there were laws to uphold. Most people preferred staying on the ground, anyway.

But not everyone got to keep their feathered wings.

Peter had always heard stories of the burnt ones.

His aunt used it as a reason for him to be good, or when his friends were yelling about seeing criminals they’d allegedly seen out ‘n about.

“-Eat your greens or your wings will burn right off, Pete”

“-I’m telling you, man! His wings were all black and torn up, I’m not kidding!”

They were the result of corruption, evil, immorality, and sin. Once soft feathers scorched, charred, and turned into soot. They blackened and burned away, turning into a shadow of their past wonder, skeletal and black.

Peter had never imagined that one day he’d be standing at the Four Seasons, shooting photos for The Bugle, trying to get a good shot of the Tony Stark.

Peter was among the crowd of journalists and other photographers, rapidly clicking away, aiming his camera lens at Stark. Reporters were yelling out questions, waving wired microphones and recorders over the barrier between them and the walkway Tony Stark was walking down.

There was something about his wings that set them apart from a normal burnt set. Most CEOs, businessmen or just rich, successful, famous people had burnt wings.

But Tony Stark’s weren’t just burnt.

They had horns cascading from the tips to the forearms. The burning away of the pure white feathers had revealed bat-like structures. Stark had no idea why, or how. That was just how they were. Or so he’d told the public.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Stark focused on him, looking into his camera and flashing a well-practiced smile. Peter fumbled for a moment before he looked through the viewfinder and took several photos.

And again, he’d never imagined that he’d get a personal request for a photoshoot, by the Tony Stark.

He packed his camera bag with shaky hands, taking extra drives and lenses.

His boss had pulled him aside earlier that morning, and told him that Stark had reached out and asked for Mr. Parker to be the one present and in charge of the interview’s photos. Peter, of course, had accepted in a second. He’d be an idiot to decline. Tony Stark’s picture on his portfolio? What kind of artist would he be if he said no?

Peter stepped out of the glass lobby of The Bugle offices half an hour later and looked up from his phone, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red sweater over a white collared shirt, the front tucked into his soft beige dress pants. He hoped his outfit wasn’t too casual for the occasion, but he didn’t really have time to change anyway.

Just as he looked away from the screen, a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Peter Parker?” the driver, a roundish man, asked.

“Y-yeah- yes!”

The man jerked his head towards the back seat door.

“Get in, kid.”

Peter did as told, nervously sliding into the car, barely moving when he sat on the leather seat, hugging his bag.

“Wh- Where’re we going-?” His voice came out a lot squeakier than he’d meant for it to.

“Stark Industries Tower, where else?”

Almost an hour later, the car stopped in front of the blue, glass building. The driver got out and opened Peter’s door. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten in.

Getting out of the car and almost forgetting his bag, he mumbled, most of his attention drawn by the tall tower.

“Thank you- uh, mister- um-”

“Hogan. Happy Hogan.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

With a nod, he closed the car door and got back in, driving off. Peter took a deep breath, held his bag properly again and started towards the building.

After a short chat with one of the three receptionists, he was led to an elevator a bit farther away from the general area of the entry. He and a shorter woman entered the lift. Judging from her formal attire, Peter guessed she was an assistant. Her wings were far smaller than his own, made up of light blue feathers with streaks of royal blue. He kept his own wings contracted to offer her enough room in the small space.

“Friday, take us to the penthouse, and please let Mr. Stark know that Mr. Parker will be arriving shortly.”

Peter looked at her, confused until a soft tone went off and the elevator started its ascent.

She smiled at him before he let out a soft “Oh-” and averted his gaze.

With another soft tone, the lift stopped and she gestured for him to step out.

“Thanks-”, he started to say, but the elevator door was already closing behind him.

The elevator had opened to something like a living room area. Two sleek, white sofas were facing the rounded glass walls, with an ornate sculpture between them that looked like five giant bowls stacked on top of each other. Everything Peter could see was modern and minimal, with a white-gray aesthetic throughout the penthouse.

He looked around nervously, holding on to his bag by the shorter strap.

“Mr. Parker, welcome.”

Peter gasped and turned around with a jump, startled.

“M-Mr. Stark! Y-yes, hi, I’m Peter Parker, I-I’m here for the Bugle interview shoot?” He inwardly cringed at how he sounded, stuttering, his voice a lot higher than it usually was, clutching his bag for dear life.

Stark smirked at him. “I know, kid, calm down.” He gestured towards the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Peter stuttered out a thank you, and sat down at the far end of one. He kept his wings close to his body, feeling like he was taking up too much space, still hugging his bag to his chest. He looked up shyly, taking Stark in properly. His wings were relaxed as he walked to the sofa facing Peter, sitting down comfortably.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Parker?”

“N-No sir. I mean, you’ve obviously done s-some- uh-.. Not so great things- but uhm- You’re an icon, people admire you-”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Stark cut him off, motioning to the minibar that had very literally risen from the ground.

Peter stuttered out, “Oh- N-No, thank you, I can’t drink on the job-”

Stark poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, without ice, and gently pushed down the top of the minibar, and it reclined back into the floor, looking like another dark grey ceramic tile.

He took a sip, eyes trained on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat, relaxing a bit. “So, where d’you think would be best for the uhm- the shots-?”

They talked about light placement, the conversation somehow dragging over to technology and science, Peter engaging a lot more, and forgetting his nervousness eventually.

After about an hour, they got up, Peter set up his camera, and took his photos.

A behind-shot of Tony Stark with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, wings stretched out behind him. A side profile, while buttoning his suit, and various other shots.

Peter was on his knees, getting a photo of one of Tony Stark’s iconic shades on a small table, the city line stretching out behind it.

Stark had excused himself to take a call, and told Peter to take photos of anything that he wanted. Peter didn’t hear him step back into the room, too focused on trying to set his camera’s shutter speed. Stark quietly took long strides to him, stepping in front of the table.

“Oh, Mr. Stark-! I just wanted to take a shot of the glasses, they’re-”

He stammered into silence as Mr. Stark softly ran the back of his finger along his cheek. He held it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter was blushing furiously, but couldn't make himself look away.

“Let me see your wings, angel.”

Three months later, Peter’s life had changed drastically.

He was decked out in the latest designer clothes, a skinny white Etro strap top to match his wings, baby blue Dolce & Gabbana shaded glasses perched on this nose, sitting by a marbled kitchen counter, a Valentino white leather clutch bag resting on it, and inspecting his manicured nails.

A man in an obsidian black suit entered the room, buttoning his jacket and running a hand through his hair, smirking.

“Ready, angel?”

Peter looked up, a cheeky smile on his lips. Wings fluttering, he slid off his high stool and made his way to him. He straightened Tony’s tie and pecked his nose.

“Yes, daddy.”

He leaned away, but Tony let out a growl, grabbing Peter by his waist and pulling him flush against his body.

Peter gasped, “You’ll ruin my outfit!”

“Angel, I bought it.”

Peter pouted, “Well yeah, but you gave it to me”

“I’ll buy you a new one, you spoilt brat.”

Peter giggled and cupped Tony’s face, looking into his eyes and leaning into his touch. “Y’know I love you, Tones.”

They kissed softly, Tony not letting go of his vice grip on Peter’s waist.

“Tony, we’re gonna be late... I want you to check the set up one last time-”

“Angel, I had you set things up. I trust you.”

Earlier that day, Peter had gone to the hotel’s restaurant on the top floor, under a different name and reservation. He’d checked the entire place for wires, mics, or anything that could put them in any sort of bad situation. He checked exit points, weak spots, and all the cameras. He’d been thorough.

He had taped a Glock 9 mm handgun underneath their side of the table, checking repeatedly to make sure it was fully loaded and had its safety off.

Peter grumbled a bit, before letting go of Tony, dramatically sighing, rolling his eyes and picking up his handbag from the counter.

“Well, we should get going anyway.”

Tony shot him a wolfish grin before grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“You missed something, i mio angelo.”

He tilted his head to the counter, a navy blue felt box sitting on it now. Peter was surprised. He knew it was a jewelry box, but he hadn’t asked for anything, and even though Tony loved showering him with gifts, there was usually some silly occasion he used as an excuse for it.

He curiously looked at the box, wondering what it was. Something beautiful, no doubt.

“Go on then, Angel, it’s yours.”

Peter stepped back up to the counter and set down his bag on the nearest stool. He pulled the box closer to himself before glancing at Tony, who was smirking at him, arms crossed against his chest.

He slowly opened it, keeping his eyes on Tony until the lid was completely vertical.

His eyes flicked down to the box, and he took in a sharp gasp, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Tony, you didn’t!”

Tony’s smirk grew into a full grin again as Peter rushed around the counter to kiss him, cradling the box in his arms, even though he could easily just hold it in one hand.

“Of course I did, mia carissimo.”

Tony took the box from Peter’s hands, setting it down on the counter. He pulled out the choker he’d gotten for his princess, with Round Brilliant cut, D rate diamonds in the center of Cushion cut diamonds arranged like figure eights.

Peter lightly grazed his own neck with his fingertips, already feeling the weight on his neck, even though he hadn’t touched the jewels yet. Tony held up the necklace.

“May I have the honor?”

Peter silently turned his back to Tony, holding his head high. Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s bare neck and gently ran his hand through Peter’s feathers, making him shudder before placing the necklace on his neck and fastening the tiny clasp. It didn’t have a chain at the end, it had a specific size. Peter’s size.

Half an hour later, Tony held the passenger door of his Audi R8 Spyder open and led Peter out, Peter giving him his hand like a princess, to the entry of the hotel. There was no swarming press, just the coming and going of guests of the hotel.

Handing his keys over to a valet, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand.

“Relax, angel.”

They walked into the lobby hand in hand, people stopping to stare at them every few feet. Even if they didn’t know who Tony Stark was, they’d stop to look at the man with the bat wings and the boy who looked like an angel.

They didn’t stop at the reception, they walked straight to the private elevator that led to the restaurant, Tony’s security detail already armed and ready at the top. Once they got there and had been patted down and checked for weapons by Osborn’s security, Tony walked them over to their table.

It overlooked the city skyline, winking lights dotting the land underneath them. He pulled out a chair for Peter, getting a soft smile in return. Sitting in the chair next to him, he held his hand again. Peter shot him a worried look.

Peter kept his voice low, “I thought you said he’d be here on time?”

“Princess, he’s only five minutes late. His detail’s here, he’ll be here, too.”

Peter toyed with the table’s centerpiece while they waited. After about ten minutes, Tony abruptly got up, rebuttoning his suit.

“C’mon bambino, we’re leaving.”

Before Peter could get up, there was a short yell and a loud muffled thump from the elevator.

The glass wall beside their table shattered, rapid shots taking out most of the security team. Tony yanked Peter down by his suit collar, looking out at the building in front to try and see the snipes. The elevator doors ominously opened, a man in black armour stepping out. His wings were plated with metal.

It all happened in the span of two seconds.

He shot the remaining guards before training his gun on Tony. Before he could get a word out, Peter pulled the gun he’d hidden earlier. In an instant, he cocked it and aimed for the man’s head.

The assassin had been a split second too late in aiming at Peter.

Peter fired.

The shooter fell to the floor, dead.

Peter dropped the gun, falling to his knees, a sudden hiss sounding behind him.

His wings had burst into flames.

He yelled out, pain blooming in his wings and along his back. Tears sprung from his eyes and ran down his face, ash falling around him, smoke rising behind him as Tony rushed to his knees beside him, holding him as he cried into Tony’s shoulder, his agonized screams muffled.

In the matter of minutes, his angelic wings were gone.

#starker #starker fic #starker moodboard #wings au #hope yall like it #gonna go cry now #reposting bc im a bit of an idiot

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vespersilvanus · 3 years ago

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Things… were not as they were, when the two parted ways. Even with the different perception of time, the world was not fairing well. Thousands of years harbouring the scourge had taken its toll and now it was truly showing the overwhelming depth of the infection. The tiny refuge, so well tended and yet feeling like it had always been a part of woods… sat empty and untamed. The trees with roots deep enough might survive just yet; their boughs silent, clinging to life in hibernation. The stream had shrunk and was dry by the third summer; nothing but an empty dirt bed. The village that had taken in and advantage of the wounded Glaive, was just ruins… the majority of buildings crushed by an enraged iron giant. The only light available being the glow of the last cities; reflecting on the low hanging haze. The only thing unchanged was the scarred hillside… nothing had grown… or died. Not even a single blade of grass had sprouted, where Eos and Etro had come apart.

~◇~

Sorting through the bags and dividing up the contents was tedious and energy consuming but it kept them moving- not knowing what to do with themselves if not actually doing something. There was little to break the days up… weeks, months… being still meant their mind wandered- there was too much time to think and right now… it was difficult to not think.

Everywhere their mind went was negative… the world, their short comings. Could they have done more? They should have… the disquiet palpable from the elder.

They were sore, and tired- the generator was running fine, things were packed or stacked; only keeping a few things for their own needs, the rest was all set to be delivered… later… sleep first and whatever Ramuh needed.

Somehow not entirely surprised to find just the animal sleeping- he was out. Not far… not like before; it’d been such a long time since they were able to tell where their source was. That piece of storm sat firmly and comfortable inside, that gifted strength. There hadn’t been much time, getting used to the element, before the battle on the other continent had happened- since then… there had been plenty. Not wanting to cause harm or hinder the god, they’d done their best to not rely on the magic- to draw too much… it was different than the crystal, which seemed endless- he was… it was… the Fulgurian… immense and volatile but alive… //and all life has an end//

It had been a learning process… one they had to do alone with numerous set backs… painful ones; covered skin hosting deeper scars than before. Eventually becoming more in tune with it and how to manage the magic that coursed through their body when called on.

Taking a seat across from Ramuhs hammock, a new log got tossed in the fire; finally pulling off the mask over their mouth. Turns out… ‘use it or lose it’ is literal when it comes to your voice. They could get a few quiet and… clumsy words before those weakened muscles gave out.

~◇~

Vesper hadn’t moved from the spot on the ground in some time. They didn’t have a presence… but it wasn’t the same as at the cabin- letting themselves sink into nature, nor was it like when they melded with the shadows- Poking stick held loosely, staring absently at the flickering fire… they were… empty. Hollow.

Comparatively, to the Astrals and even some beasts… humans don’t live particularly long lives. If they had the energy to consider it- they would be surprised looking at how long... That little bit of life between his mortals was all but gone from them. So many still fighting, not living, just surviving to keep fighting… //…forever… like the dark…// There were children now, old enough to say, they ‘don’t remember a blue sky.'

Blinking suddenly to the present as the magnanir shifted in its sleep, they moved the logs charred remains apart; dropping another in its place. They would need more hay for his companion- remembering a barn to the east; maybe there was still some things worth checking.

~◇~

His human wasn’t the same either…

“You’re wrong, I’m fine. I know I’m fine… I’m fine…” who even was this old guy? why's he look like gramps and smell like the rain~ smells like home....~ at least the ground was soft.

Extremely Exhausted Starters Part 2

If he was wrong, he would gladly give his last few gil he had. But he wasn’t. Watching the mortal, he sighs as he continues to rest against his staff before raising a hand.

“So I take it you just happen to enjoy the ground, and thought to nap on it, while knowing fully well there are monsters and even daemons at night?”

#vespersilvanus #v; main bolt

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antimundi-blog · 7 years ago

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“Ah, good. A fight.”

That hope had been stolen and lost. In the time of their travel since fleeing Insomnia, their hearts had been worn ragged, and bodies bent and bruised, boned eroded to raw marrow and gnawed upon by ominous circumstance. It was something that hadn’t shown since childhood when the youngest Fleuret daughter had been butchered by the wiles of an awakening Reaper Mother abhorrent of the light. It had grown as the days grew long and nights cold, shuddering for warmth as the king became anointed by fire; the prince in station who could not fight the impending doom. Oh, but–this boy was clever. The adviser. Still sharp after the nights ground his bones to the quick. The skin of his teeth closely flayed.“Ａｎｄ　ｗｈｏ　ａｒｅ　ｙｏｕ　ｔｏ　ｓｔｏｐ　ｍｅ？” she asks, craven and guttural, horrific and wholly unlike the prince’s voice. She teleported in but barely a stride as a manifestation before the man seized his dagger hand, joints creaking as she forced it against his throat, pale and pulsating. Etro watched with morbid fascination, infernal eyes alighted upon its quiver, its hapless tremble even while Ignis remained superficially dauntless. A hand touched his cheek and in an instant did the contact point become ashen and charred, broken by runnels of infernal light.

“Ｓｈａｌｌ　Ｉ　ｅｎｄ　ｙｏｕｒ　ｍｉｓｅｒｙ，　ｓｗｅｅｔ　ｂｏｙ？　Ｆｏｒ　ｈｉｓ　ｈａｓ　ｊｕｓｔ　ｂｅｇｕｎ．”

#asks // call me beep me #cookignis #mum says hullo--

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cha0ticmimzy · 7 years ago

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Walk of Punishment

Day 2 of FFXV Rare Pairs Week

Prompt: Getting Married/Wounds&Blood

Pairing: Ravus Nox Fleuret/Aranea Highwind

Characters: Ravus Nox Fleuret, Aranea Highwind, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Ardyn Izunia, brief mentions of Nyx Ulric and Regis Lucis Caelum

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Blood, gore, detailed depictions of field-amputation, minor language

Word Count: 138

@ffxvrarepairsweek

Author’s Notes: I hate to admit that I loved writing this more than I probably should. Then again, I always do enjoy torturing any character that I get to write, and we never were told of how Ravus survived, or who saved him. Or what happened with his arm, for that matter. I tried to make this as shippy as possible, but that’s a little hard considering what I decided to write about. Also, yes, the title is a nod to Game of Thrones. And yes, there is another Game of Thrones mention in here, but it’s subtler. Just think of a certain pair of siblings, one of whom received a crown of gold. I know I’m late I’m sorry-

This wasn’t right. No, no this wasn’t right at all. He was supposed to have been chosen, he was the rightful king! Why would they deny him? He had the Oracle’s blood in him, for Etro’s sake! The colors shifted, and Ravus was thrust back into the world of the living- or, better yet, a world of chaos. Of chaos and blood.

His arm was burning.

The pain didn’t register for a moment as he watched the flesh of his left arm began to burn from the inside out. It was cold- it wasn’t hot, not like a normal fire should feel. It was freezing, and he jerked his arm up, forcing the ring away from his body. But that didn’t stop the burning; the flames were blue and black, his veins turning white beneath the skin as he watched in horror. And then, the pain came. Searing, blistering pain.

“Luna-Lunafreya, please! Help me!” He screamed out, watching through blurred vision as his beloved sister merely stood and watched before turning and leaving with King Regis and that damned Kingsglaive who ruined everything. Why Wouldn’t she come back? Why did she leave? Why? WHY?! “LUNA, PLEASE.”

“Stop screaming,” came a harsh whisper beside him, drawing his attention away from his sister to look up into emerald pools. Aranea. “By the Six, Ravus, you’re a fucking idiot. Sit STILL.” She yelled, her own eyes wide and troubled as she watched the flames continue to creep up his arm. His side was being burnt, she realized, as the smell of burning flesh suddenly became far too clear. The Dragoon held back the urge to gag and instead pulled out a hi-potion, quickly breaking it onto the Commander’s shoulder.

“Why are… You shouldn’t be here. You’re supposed to be in- in Tenebrae! It’s too- bloody hell- dangerous for you here!” Ravus argued, before his voice broke off into an ear-splitting scream. His vision was blurring out, the pain becoming too much for even him to handle. Head lolling backwards onto Aranea’s thigh, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out, color leeching from his face.

“Oh, for Etro’s sake,” the Highwind yelled, looking around for help. Anyone, anyone- there. That bastard. “Izunia, get over here!” She commanded, not caring for titles in the least. Not when she’d be hacking off the arm of the man whose bed she’d shared the night before. The thought chilled her to the bone, but she had to do it. She didn’t have a choice in this matter.

“Oh, my. He looks to be in a bit of pain, doesn’t he? Perhaps we should put him-”

“Finish that sentence and my lance will go through your left eye socket. Get down here and hold onto his legs.” She hissed, glaring up at the Chancellor. “I hope you’ve got some transportation out of here, ‘cause this place isn’t going to hold much longer and neither will he,” as she spoke, the ceiling of the Citadel shook, pieces of concrete falling from the sky as it began to fall apart.

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto him as much as you can. I don’t have anything to numb him up with, and this is gonna be bloody and painful for us all.” With that said, she reached over and withdrew Ardyn’s own blade, ignoring the shout of anger from the man. She’d deal with the repercussions later. The fire was spreading up, up, almost reaching his shoulder. Not on her watch. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she murmured, pressing the edge of the blade against the flesh of his bicep.

“Hold him still!” The Dragoon yelled, watching as Ardyn all but straddled the Commander and forced his own weight down upon him. Her gaze swept back to the arm, aking in the sight of flesh charred black, before gritting her teeth. “Here we go!” She sat up onto her knees and pushed, pushed, pushed; the sound of bone crunching met her ears the same moment Ravus let out a scream akin to a banshee. Blood was already pooling beneath them, staining her knees a darker black and his coat a vibrant vermillion. It was hard, to push through bone and muscle with no help from momentum. But it ended, the blade striking ground and the limb falling away, still burning as the skin began to flake off.

“Get your transport in here NOW,” she shouted, watching Ardyn leap off of the former royal and begin to speak into his com. She ripped off a piece of her uniform, quickly making a makeshift bandage around the stump of his arm. It didn’t do much good, because the blood was already soaking through- but damn it all, it would have to do.

“I’ve got him, you go on ahead.” Ardyn spoke, reaching down to lift the limp body of the Commander. It was odd, to see a man smaller than Ravus lift him with such ease. “We’ll be taking him back to base.”

The first thing Ravus registered when he woke was an odd feeling of being incomplete. Next came the harsh lighting of a hospital room, and then the smell of antiseptics. He groaned, trying to sit up and then failing because… His left arm wasn’t working. Why couldn’t he feel his arm? Heterochromatic hues opened, sweeping down to stare at… At a stump. A bandaged stump where his arm should have been.

“Morning, moonlight.” Came the soft voice of Aranea, drawing his attention from the stump to the woman entering his room. “How’re you feeling? They gave you some good shit, so you shouldn’t be in any pain…”

“What happened to my arm?” He croaked out, throat still sore from the intubation. He watched as she drew closer, setting her cup of coffee aside to settle onto the right side of the bed, legs crossing. She looked tired, he noted; dark circles stood out against alabaster skin, emerald pools usually lively with mischief unusually dull. She was even out of her uniform, dressed in a shirt he recognized came from his own closet and a pair of black pants that clung to her legs. What had she called them… Leggings? Right.

“We… Ravus, what do you remember from the Accords?” She asked, reaching out to hold onto his hand gently. Her hands were always so smooth.

“I remember… Aldercapt and Regis standing off, and then Regis’ hand was cut from his body, and then…” Phantom pains of fire raced through him, making his cringe and tense up. His arm. His arm was burning- only, it wasn’t there.

His arm had been amputated because of the fire.

“Your arm was on fire, Ravus. I… I didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t save it even if we tried. I’m so sorry…” She whispered, head ducking down as she let her words settle in the space between them. His hand was raised and pressed to smooth, shaking lips as she finally let the tears spill she’d been holding back.

Ravus couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen her cry before.

“… So this is it. I’m done.” He whispered, looking at the bandaged nub with a frown. All of his plans, to save Lunafreya, to leave Niflheim… Gone. “Why were you here? You were supposed to be in Tenebrae.”

“I was called in as backup. And when I came in and saw you… I had no other choice. They’re working on making you a prosthetic, so you won’t be without an arm for long… I’ve requested that it’d be removable, just in case you don’t wanna wear it.” The silverette spoke, offering a small smile.

“Thank you, Aranea. I would… Prefer to be alone, if that is alright.” He managed to get out, eyes closing against the sudden onslaught of tears threatening to fill his vision. She nodded, understanding as she slipped from the bed. He’d expected her to just leave, but she didn’t- she stopped, and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before leaving.

Once he was certain he was alone, he allowed the tears to fall. Tears of pain, of loss, of anger.

Lunafreya hadn’t helped him, even when he’d called out to her for help.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It wasn’t right.

#ffxvrarepairsweek #day 2 #wounds&blood #ravus x aranea #ravus nox fleuret #aranea highwind #rating: teen #warnings #gore #blood #mild language #this was painful to write

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gazihsah · 8 years ago

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A E S T H E T I C - G’azih Sah

[ COLOR ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. royal purple. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory. sky blue.

[ ELEMENTAL ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. day. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. smoke. umbra. penumbra. char. darkness. ash.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. sweat. tears. feline. permanent wounds. chubby. curvy. short. tall. medium height. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. weak. birdlike. shapeshifting. junoesque. svelte. medium length hair. short hair. dark circles. big. voluptuous. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish. effeminate. frightening. ethereal. angelic. demonic. metallic. angular. scales. barbs. vertebrae. tendrils. tentacles. sharp. soft. unusual. shapely. unnatural. disproportionate. spindly. monstrous.

[ WEAPONRY ] fists. swords. daggers. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rods. shotguns. needles. prowess. ability. instinct. bloodthirst. supernatural. inhuman. talons. speed. agility. cunning. reflexes. talons. biomech tendrils.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory. aether. crystal. dark matter. lapis lazuli. adamantite. wootz. brass. lamé. guipé. bone. moonstone. metalloids. alloys. ceramic. alabaster. marble. aluminum. bismuth. bronze. polonium. chrome. osmium. sand.

[ NATURE/ENVIRONMENT ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight. moonlight. darkness. wasteland. void.

[ ANIMALS/CREATURES ] lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. tarantulas. scarabs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs. antelope. chimeras. demons. angels. parakeets. harpy eagles. seagulls. warblers. birds of paradise. parrots. toucans. crows. ravens. orioles. cobras. black mambas.

[ FOOD/DRINK ] sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. milk. champagne. hard liquor (whiskey in particular). beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. cake. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. steak. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies. chocolate. tiramisu. cheesecake. sushi. tempura. rice. pasta. garlic. bread. muffins. noodles.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. piercing. watercolors. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. murder. fighting. fencing. riding. flying. writing. composing. wood-working. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. tinkering. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. organ. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection. reading. learning. lecturing. teaching. torment. tracking.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eyepatch. collar. bangle. torque. gorget. bracers. cuffs. body jewelry. crop tops. leather sandals. bare foot.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. diligence. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photosmirrors. pets. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. misanthropy. loneliness. anger. family. synthetic. friends. assistants. co-workers. plushies. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. embracing. magitek. futuristic. ancient. science. voidsent. cruelty. trust. mistrust. strength. doubt. reverence. ferocity. danger. automatons. metallic. allure. value. intelligent. revolutionary. defiant. advanced. engines. naïve. temporary. changing. split personality. paradigm shift. freedom. belief. regret.

Tagged by: @etro-ascalon

#FFXIV #FF14 #G'azih Sah #Character Meme #Aesthetic

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ishstar · 8 years ago

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Ishstar Mihna

BOLD what applies to your muse. Remember to REPOST. Feel free to add to the list.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. sweat. tears. feline. permanent wounds. chubby. curvy. short. tall. height. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. weak. birdlike. shapeshifting. junoesque. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. voluptuous. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish. effeminate. frightening. ethereal. angelic. demonic. metallic. angular. scales. barbs. vertebrae. tendrils. tentacles. sharp. soft. unusual. shapely. unnatural. disproportionate. spindly. monstrous.

[ FOOD/DRINK ] sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. milk. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. steak. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies. tiramisu. cheesecake. sushi. tempura. pasta. garlic. bread. muffins. noodles.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. piercing. watercolors. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. murder. fighting. fencing. riding. flying. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. tinkering. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. organ. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection. reading. learning. lecturing. teaching. torment. tracking.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. diligence. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photosmirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. misanthropy. loneliness. anger. family. synthetic. friends. assistants. co-workers. plushies. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. embracing. magitek. futuristic. ancient. science. voidsent. cruelty. trust. mistrust. strength. doubt. reverence. ferocity. danger. automatons. metallic. allure. value. intelligent. revolutionary. defiant. advanced. engines. naïve. temporary. changing. split personality. paradigm shift. freedom. belief.

Tagged by: @etro-ascalon

Tagging: @kavishontah @nayaxiv owob

#ffxiv #Ishstar Mihna #long post is long #sorry #huehuehue

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theoracleparadox · 3 years ago

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Based off of this post, these are some things that would be fandom discourse if Andromeda was a canon character:

The biggest discourse: whether she’s a lesbian or bisexual.

That’s the biggest argument had on this website. The time she spends with women tends to be very positive, whereas the time she spends with men tends to be negative. Andromeda does favor women over men when it comes to trust.

She has a lot of moments with Crowe, so there would be a ship for that. On the other hand, I could see a small group shipping Andromeda and Luna as a enemies to lovers kind of thing (I do not like this idea). If there were a hetero ship, it would definitely be an enemies to lovers thing (I do love that trope if neither parties are psychos).

She’s too OP

A lot of people don’t like Andromeda as a character. They complain her powers are obscure and overpowered. Also she has three powers, and one is the most special power that only Luna is allowed to have. So there’d be two camps of people: one that support Andromeda being OP, and the other who would diminish her to being some sniveling goblin.

Whether Andromeda is redeemable as a character

She does some very dark things sometimes. That her chaos magic gets out of control and has killed several (many?) people is somewhat okay because it was an “accident”, or “side effect”. It’s okay at least in the beginning. It’s different when she starts doing it on purpose, and isn’t repulsed by it (this even makes Etro concerned). So there’d be discourse over whether she’s worthy of redemption.

Though it’s worth noting that in Regis’s day, Nif soldiers were still humans. There’s no doubt he and his boy band took several lives with their own hands while prancing around the warfront in a luxury car.

Just how ugly/beautiful she is

Andromeda has a lot of scars. Her body was charred once. Whenever there has been a character with such disfiguring, if artists don’t simply cover it up, there is always a debate on whether they did it too heavy or too light. I rarely have seen where people agree that the artist has done an accurate job. (Not to mention that movie adaptations always get the Hollywood treatment of downplaying ugliness).

Her face is normal, but she isn’t going to win any beauty contests. In some instances, she can look beautiful, but prefers ugliness.

#look if I reblogged the meme no one would have sent anything in #I know what people don't like about her already

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gabriellademonaco · 1 year ago

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Princess Charlene’s Outfits 2023

#princess charlene #monegasque princely family #royaltyedit #royal fashion #char outfits 2023 #mine #etro

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chilltouch · 3 years ago

Note

9, 25, 29

9. is the oldest? the youngest?

Answered this one! Oldest is Etros (They/Them), my god of Death and Judgment from my Godsend twoshot followed by Iris and [redacted]

Youngest is a weird tie between a former 12-year-old named Adam (he/they) and Rha, my 10-year old-adult aarakocra

25. is the most likely to charge right into battle?

hmmm good question, I'm more cautious so it tends to bleed over even my more reckless of characters but on the top of my head it would probably be Ignatius or Praden for different reasons.

Praden would rush to protect someone, Ignatius would rush to stab someone then BA disengage

Oh Chad and N3W.WAV would also charge into battle, both are very reckless

Outside of dnd, Z (they/them) would charge in SO fast bc they Love the thrill of the fight, Duma (They/He) would bc of Bloodlust™ and is just generally very good at combat, Beris (they/them) for the same reasons

Duroth (he/they) and Valur (they/them) would both charge into battle bc their battles are usually in the middle of war,

29. is the most girlboss?

Sigh, Iris could've been girlbxss if he committed to taking the promotion for himself rather than giving it away 🙄

Dahlia (no nouns) wants to be girlbxss (Archfey) but hasn't succeeded yet

Mycena isn't a girlboss.

Amastacia (she/her), a character I have yet to play, was girlboss before she got killed when adventurers tried to stop her ritual. She is no longer girlboss when she reincarnated,

Bellicrose (he/she) is Studying to become girlboss, so he hasn't gotten there yet,

sigh, Caligula is a girlboss

i stg she better not be the most girlboss out of my characters but I don't have high hopes,

no wait, Robusta is girlboss actually, way more than Caligula, whew I'm safe

Ritalin has girlboss moments but isn't a girlboss overall

Setraline could've been a girlbxss if not for being swamped in college debt to the point of making a pact with a fiend,

WAIT I FOUND THEM, THE ULTIMATE GIRLBOSS

WHO IS MORE GIRLBOSS IF NOT A GOD (it's Etros)

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chilltouch · 3 years ago

Note

9, 17, 39, 50

9. is the oldest? the youngest?

out of my current characters Iris is the oldest easily (WAIT A MINUTE IT'S [REDACTED]), with the youngest i guess it's yuyu.

However, lemme tell you that the youngest character ive ever played differs depending on if we're talking chronological age or maturity. Youngest overall is either Adam who I started playing as a DM PC at 12 years old OR Rha (they/them) who is an adult aarakocra at 10 years old. I played both characters with the same friend group. They exclaimed why i continue to either play birds or children

Now my oldest character overall is probably my god of Death and Judgement in my Godsend twoshot named Etros (they/them) but that feels too easy of an answer so im gonna focus on my dnd charact-

oh wait there it is it's the same answer as above so true Iris and [Redacted]

17. has killed the most?

ngl it's prob Mycena if im doing dnd only but i think it would be fun to think who else would be the first/second, sooo

hmmm, it's likely Etros as an alternate highest or my demigod in the Godsend twoshot named Beris bc Beris is an Incarnation of War

my Karanduun character Duma who is a Sitan martial disciple of the Sibat, the bamboo spear that slays anghels/angels, could work as a distant second [Karanduun is a ttrpg system that focuses on killing god(s). You get to attack and dethrone god in this combat-leaning system and it's fun to fight; pbta inspired iirc].

OR my character Valur (they/them) [no origin ttrpg system for them bc the creator of that system who i used to go to college with is homophobic/transphobic] who is a spirit/ghost/elemental? creature summoned in the middle of war by forces unknown to serve as a neutral party that fucked up soldiers going after innocents/non-combatants and therefore killed Many before the war ended.

OR Duroth from Big Gay Orcs who killed so many people in his last stand before dying

OR Val/Bedlam who is part of the assassins crew and likely has racketed up a kill count since starting a life of crime in Duskvol

hmmm gonna focus back on dnd characters now bc there's Still More to this list that can count as if not a distant second a close third

Gurra (he/she) and Iris would kinda tie for similar reasons of killing bc of orders from higher authority, as would LUC-A honestly but instead of for orders (derogatory) it would be bc of loose orders/missions from higher authority (dad who is her god) that eventually turned into "i will kill you bc im filled with righteous fury at the injustice here" and That happened a lot more often than either her or their dad expected adlnaldn

fuck me Kiran (they/them) ALSO falls in line with the above bc of their past as a soldier while serving under their god bc that's what they were raised to do as a protector aasimar who grew up under their god's church,

Ignatius and Opuntia Robusta (she/her) make it up to here in the kill list for criminal reasons. i think if the two ever met they would not get along (also fire with a plant person is 😬)

Ritalin and Ishara (she/her), the spirit tied to the kalashtar Ishtar, have an honorary mention bc those two killed in self-defense and also have a lot of deaths tied to them by association tbh but they Do exhibit murder vibes

(s/o to that one time where Ritalin asked their party member with an abusive/evil brother if she wants him dead bc he'll Do It, and the abrupt silence on that character versus the shocked laughter of the rest of the group made it into the highlights doc)

39. is the best with animals?

Mechanically it's Pandora bc shepherd druid, but emotionally, it's, hmm, actually idk if any One character i have is good overall with animals

there's like Ritalin who is good with birds, yuyu and Praden who makes regular friends with the sea life, S-POR theoretically is good with animals like wolves and ravens :] but is more of a plant person y'know

Kaius is my underwater warlock who can also make friends with sea life but idk if Kaius would since that's not a character ive yet to play after leaving the group this PC was for

50. is or was your favorite to play in combat?

For #healer/support rights it's S-POR bc of the combination of being to help people and access to AOE's. I can't wait to play S-POR in CoS as level 14 with the condition immunities and unable to get crit damaged on lovelove

For battlefield control, it's LUC-A bc the combo of spirit guardians and spiritual weapon is lovelove and I Also get to heal though emotionally it doesn't feel as necessary in the middle of combat

For damage output and tank rights, it's Praden during that level 15 oneshot where I had 24 AC with him and then nearly killed someone in one hit with a crit smite :)

Ishtar gets a special shout out for having a vorpal sword in that high-level oneshot i played them in and critting (decapitation) in the final boss

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