#i might not post art again for a bit sense im busy with all the stuff i gotta finish but i love yall /platonic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simlimpim · 5 months ago

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Ok, i wanna re-preface this by saying that my behavior towards this whole thing does not stem from my liking of bobby. My rudeness in the original post was because i was incredibly tired, had a bad day, and suddenly saw a post i completely disagreed with. I was not good 👍 and i apologize for my rudeness . I've apologized twice already. But you still seem to have some resentment towards me based on your post language. (But i understand why, i was a dick)

Second of all, i can not respond to everything you say because im literally dragged into a bar right now. You would not believe the situations im put in, i swear. So im basing all of this off of my short term memory of my post im sorry 😭😭 i wish i could do a better analisys with deep dives and references to quote to prove my points better but the shit situations im put in are amazing.

Third of all, i never based ANYTHING on Fandom bobby cause i dont interact with the fandom like 90% of the time. I make my own opinions out of my brain and own ideas ty very much.

Also, sorry for calling you op, river, it was 4 am, man, sorry, really.

Ok, now into the actual thing (ill keep this kind of short)

I base my ideas on my own behavioral analysis. Im a man who is really based on his opinions and thoughts. I wish i could quote things i really do.

If you want a (semi) GOOD analysis of mine, from what i believe is Phantom and bobbys behavioral differences. Check out my post where i rant about simons inability as a manipulator, i quote "the art of manipulation" and show some behavioral patterns of phantom's (as bobby) that make bobby out to be someone that is smart, understands human behaviour and even (would) care for simon if he was real in his own way via phantoms characterization of him.

(EDIT, I GOT HOME. IM A BIT BUSY AND CAN'T ARGUE TOO MUCH MORE ON THIS POST SPECIFICALLY. I DID ADD TO THIS THREAD. BUT HERES THE LINK TO THAT POST MR RIVER )

I now further understand your "phantom was made later" point and sort of agree. However. I still throughly believe that the fact that bobby was not made with phantom's image in mind does not have anything to do with the "real" bobby.

"Prototype bobby" is the bobby that was made without phantom in mind, which is sysnonimus with phantom bobby since phantom was still made at the end. And phantom still applies.

Canon "real" bobby is the man phantom killed, not the man concepted in the first chapters.

Phantom wouldn't have a reason to behave like he did, youre right (may i remind the jury that it was 4 an stupidity in half of that rant) But we're both in ageement that phantom does not recreate bobbys personality accurately.

I still support my earlier point that people, when they imitate someone they dont fully know, still exaggerate certain elements of a persons personality. It's an actually studied thing (god knows in which one of my books i read that one, tho)

When someone doesn't fully know a person (which phantom mightev not known much about since... DID YOU TELL ME WEITHER OR NOT HE WAS REASERCHING ON UR 1 OR NOT. I MENTIONED IN THE POST THAT I FORGOT IF THIS PART IS TRUE OR NOT AND IM FORGETTING AGAIN)

Anywayyyyyys.

Lets for the sake of argument say that he did (ill provide an argument if he didnt too dw)

If he did, or didnt: phantom either wouldn't have had that much time to study his behavioral patterns, and even if he did and had physical tapes of how he acted, people STILL exaggerate behaviours of people theyre imitating even if they know word for word what the person theyre imitating does.

I retract my statement that he makes the meaner part of the personality more intense and replace it with:

I think he might be accenteuating both parts. hence why it felt so un-natural for me behaviour wise.

If his personality were to be toned down all around, it would make more sense.

Also, about the rehabilitator thing. Bobby was technically at least implied to be assigned to simon in some way, hes in charge of making sure simon doesnt lash out in court and keep him under check, many many times talks bout how he wants to and will work towards rehabilitation for simon no matter what(check ch 2 1st trial day one) and simon is seen only with bobby as a handler after ch 2 (from what i remember). So yes, I'd say he has a rehabilitators/handlers license. As you need one of those to. Yk. Rehabilitate and handle criminals (at least in my country and japan from what i remember. But i COULD very well be wrong so correct me if so)

And also id like to say sorry if you thought my comment about "i hate this thread" was meant to insult it. I meant it in a i hate the overall idea behind some of the points there, and even then, it was wrong for me to say, and i do apologize. Your thread is amazingly constructed and i do believe i couldve handled it with more tact.

I have way more thoughts, but I'd actually rather discuss these one on one because i actually like having discussions with you, you are very smart and challenge my own ideas well, and i hope you feel the same way, mr river man 🙏

Again, sorry for my rudeness, i had the worst day yesterday, and literally passed out right after writing the first one.

The Real Bobby Fulbright and Morality

Hey hey! I am back with yet another analysis post, this time focusing on Fulbright's morality! I often see fanon interpretations of him - that are super fun! - but I also feel like they focus on the positive aspects of his personality and avoid the darker ones, so I will be rambling about that under the cut! Enjoy B)

Before we get into specific examples, it is worth pointing out that this analysis is based off of:

The theory that Dual Destinies didn't originally have the phantom as the main villain.

That the phantom was included later in the story after several chapters were already finished.

The theory that Dual Destinies was going to deal with darker themes before it got altered.

Now, although I have more detailed arguments on why I believe in these points, this post is not about that (Though if anyone wants to hear my thoughts about it, I'd love to yap about that in another post ^^). In a nutshell, Fulbright's behaviour changes in between cases, in a way that suggests that his character was revamped. I believe that Fulbright was originally written without the phantom in mind.

Thus! While his character might've had his purpose shifted, if my belief is correct, then The Monstrous Turnabout - the first case with Fulbright - is the most accurate glimpse into what the real Bobby Fulbright was like. Yes, we are meta analysing it up in this house!

Via the assumption that The Monstrous Turnabout has the original idea for the real Fulbright, we can make some interpretations of what he's like, despite the canon saying it was the phantom impersonating him! ^^

So, onto actual examples (lovingly chosen from my transcript) and analysis!

Starting off strong, we first meet Fulbright with him wanting to arrest Apollo and Athena. Yes, there is the potential reasoning of "disturbing a crime scene", but the lawyers had only just gotten there. They had done nothing wrong. That is unlawful arrest! Them coming to the crime scene had several explanations, and yet Fulbright won't even hear them out:

[???] “Hey, who are you and what are you doing here? This is a crime scene!”

[AJ] “And who are YOU? Are you with the police?”

[???] “I asked first! Who are YOU and what are you doing here?! On second thought... I’m placing you under arrest for disturbing a crime scene!”

He prioritizes lunch over actual, genuine justice here, not even bothering to hear them out. He only changes his tune after finding out that they're lawyers. Even then, he doesn't allow them to investigate. Though that is what all Ace Attorney detectives do, I think the subtle threat that comes afterwards is important.

[AJ] “Ack! Under arrest?! B-B-But...”

[???] “Save it for the boys back at HQ! Now, come quietly or else! I don’t want to be late for lunch!”

Yes, he never pulls out a gun in the series (besides attempting to do so in Turnabout for Tomorrow as the phantom), but I believe that the inherent threat and power that Fulbright holds in this situation is worth mentioning. Apollo's assumption that Fulbright could pull out a gun is also quite telling in my opinion. Fulbright is a cop at the end of the day.

[BF] “Cease and desist at once, or you’ll have to deal with my little friend here!” { Hand goes to his holster }

[AJ] “Ack!” (Yikes! Is he reaching for his...?!)

[BF] “In justice we trust!” { Shows badge }

[AJ] “...!” (Phew, it’s just his badge.)

[BF] “This door simply will not open! We’ve tried and tried, but it won’t budge! It’s an essential part of the culture found in this manor, so we can’t blow it up either!”

The next concerning aspect I've found, is the seemingly normalized use of excessive force. The only reason they're not blowing up the door is because of its cultural significance. That is insane! It can be argued that it's not Fulbright's decision, however, the lack of reaction from everyone involved signifies to me that this is the norm.

With this moment, I wish to point out Fulbright's black & white thinking. I acknowledge that this is consistent for all detectives in the series, but it is a piece of characterization that is very important - Fulbright is very quick to call Tenma a villain, evil, a fiend. Thinking that someone is guilty and thinking that someone is evil are quite different imo.

[AJ] “So you still think Mayor Tenma is responsible?”

[BF] “That’s right! Damian Tenma is an evil fiend who must be banished from this world! Now, take my hand and together we will defeat this evil!”

[BF] “I won’t fall for that, you shameless rascal! I only help good little boys and girls!”

In general, Fulbright tends to think in an us vs them mentality - the people he likes are good, while the ones he dislikes are bad. He helps good people and puts away bad people. In a sense, yes, that's what a cop is supposed to do.

[BF] “Ha ha! My investigations are as thorough as they are foolproof, or my name isn’t Fulbright! I vow to resign immediately if I ever make a false arrest!”

However, this line paints a grim picture. Fulbright implies that he has never made a false arrest. That is statistically impossible, and implies that he has not only made false arrests before, he has also managed to get them convicted! The fact that the first time we meet him, he tries to arrest us only amplifies this point!

[BF] “What?! Are you questioning my sense of justice?!”

When he is confronted with an argument against his beliefs, he hides behind justice. In a way, he hides behind his badge, the very item that allows him to make the decisions on who is being painted as guilty, and who is not. In fact, he doesn't even question his beliefs.

[BF] “Prosecutor Blackquill! We’ve had enough of your hijinks! The foundation of justice is fair play, and you are in serious violation of that!”

And finally, the so-called 'jolts of justice'. I've seen arguments in the past claiming that the real Bobby Fulbright would never use electrical shocks on Blackquill. I politely disagree. Considering all the previous examples, I think it aligns with his behavioural patterns and is the epitome of his morality.

And thus, I would like to briefly propose my personally crafted theory about Dual Destinies: The game was originally going to delve into darker themes, and Fulbright's corruption was at the center of that.

Yes, Fulbright believes in justice, in good and bad. He has good intentions. But at the end of the day, he is a cop that holds power over others and justifies his wrongdoings with... well, justice. So long as he believes that he is doing the right thing, he is willing to reach for extremes.

I think this is often missed due to Fulbright's comical mess ups and overall cheery and charming demeanour. The characters don't really react to his more... extreme decisions either.

Consider a world where the phantom was not the main twist of the series, but some aspects remained. Such as... The tampering with evidence... Abusing police position to cover up a crime... Framing innocent suspects... It fits into the previously showcased negative traits of his.

Ergo, the real Bobby Fulbright might not be as justice-driven as many may believe. There are many details that tend to get overlooked when it comes to him, especially in fanon. Which is fine and good! It is comforting to think of a policeman that does his job properly. However, I also find this darker side absolutely fascinating and worthy of discussion.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this silly analysis post! Do feel free to argue or ask questions, I love a good debate and I love yapping <3

#rambles #long post #aa5 spoilers #again im really sorry for insulting your original post.#i dont think that you didnt have basis i think you misunderstood me.#i meant that you hadnt discussed it in thenog post #the way you phrase and explain things is very well thought out i just hope we can come to an agreement!!!#again im vry sorry

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trappedham · 3 years ago

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My AUs/Projects (updated regularly, except I'm slacking lol)

Everything is under the cut bc it got too long :P

Ik I have it in my bio but I'm pinning this post again for easy access while I whip up master posts for each of my aus... and a masterpost for those masterposts, probably. again, for easy access

Bizarro Ninja

- Kai centric

"In the fight against the Bizarro Ninja, Kai gets dusted by his Bizarro counterpart."

Unwritten

Written in Stone AU

(Aka, the most developed one. Still subject to retcon/change)

- Morro + Lloyd centric

"After being pick-pocketed in Jamanakai Village, Morro takes pity on the brat and adopts takes him under his wing, as his master once did for him."

Some drabbles written, subject to change/retcon (need to link all drabbles and shitposts for this au here. Also playlists?)

Masterpost/doc in the works

Master of Creation! Morro AU

- Morro (+ maybe Lloyd) centric

"For better or for worse, Morro inherits his master’s legacy and raising the Green Ninja until his time comes to defeat the Overlord."

Unwritten

Need to link playlist(s)

"Dark Souls" Ninjago AU

- Morro + Lloyd or Ninja centric

"After a great calamity leaves the balance tilted, the Realm of Ninjago descends into darkness."

Unwritten

(Lmao I have so many Morro + Lloyd centric AUs, can you tell I have a lot of Green Cousins feelings?)

Smith Sibs Angst AU

- Kai + Nya centric

Instead of leaving the two kids to fend for themselves, Krux strategies to keep them apart.

Security Breach 3 star ending/"Human" Freddy AU

(Aka Thing I Don't Have A Name For then again do I have a name for anything around here?)

- Freddy, Gregory + Vanny centric

(Vanny and Vanessa are most likely the same person in this AU but that might change later)

We're ignoring that canonically, Freddy doesn't have a body in this ending- just. He keeps his body and he, Gregory, and Vanny(Vanessa?) leave the Pizzaplex together. Angst/fluff. Also slice of life and found family.

Masterpost/drabble in the works

Maria Lives(?) Or something AU (Sa2)

(Very basic name, I'll find a better one for it later. Probably.)

Maria + Shadow centric

I'd write a proper description for this one if it wasn't a very rough basic idea. Also I just love these two alot and they stole my brain. That's okay I didn't need it

Sonic 06: Original Timeline + Rewrite (unofficial title)

Uhh pretty much everyone gets a role so. Everybody(?) centric?

Rewriting sonic 06 just a bit, and also exploring more of the doomed timeline

Doomed Timeline/Original Sonic 06 Timeline

Shadow centric, and maybe some Silver too

Hey, wouldn't it be funny of Shadow the Hedgehog (2005) came after Sonic 06. Haha jkjk... unless? 😳

Shadow The Hedgehog (2005) Rewrite

Team Dark centric

Yes this is yet another au/fic project centered around found family dynamics what about it

Somehow accidentally made a Sonic X oc so now Shadow has his own scrappy kid

Shadow + Original Character centric

Ya so I started watching Sonic X, just finished s1 fantastic amazing that season finale was just *chefs kiss* literally I am. Dying for Shadow content even tho it don't come until season 2 and boy we are. Speedrunning the adventure games huh. Anyways I accidentally made an edgy teen oc so now I'm sticking them with Shadow and they have to put up with each other and also I love them. Uhh oc introduction soon? As soon as I've got some good 💪art💪 for them...

SatBK but make it gae and the plot make sense

Probably Sonic and Shadow/Lancelot centric. Possibly Sonadow.

I finally watched a playthrough of SatBK and I have Opinions but I'll be merciful and spare you the wall of text. Straight to the business, I desperately want to do SatBK some justice bc God help me it's called Sonic and the BLACK KNIGHT- istg if the "black knight" is supposed to be "king arthur" im gonna. ITS SHADOWWW ! !!! I'm nothing if not a Shadow truther and he and Sonic should've had an enemies to friends frenemy bromance arc SEGA PLEASE- also there's some fuckery going on with the plot but thats not important

Sonic Western AU

technically omniscent?

mostly an excuse to put sonic characters in silly hats and costumes.

Shadow's Mixtape AU

Team Dark centric but mostly big sis/lil bro Rouge and Shadow

something something Shadow missed out on a lot since he was asleep for 50 years. Rouge takes it upon herself to catch him up on the times... with a mixtape. Things dont go as smoothly as the bat would hope...

(yes, fic/drabble and playlist in the works)

IDW Metal Virus arc AU

Sonic and Shadow centric (obvs but this is technically omniscient)

Just a big fat excuse to have the two but heads but have to begrudgingly work together to Fix Things I just. Ough theres so much to play with I'm a kid in a candy store rn I'm just gonna go HAM >:DD

Strays AU

Shadow centric, lots of fluff

Shadow seems to have a habit of collecting strays... and they aren't just cats.

Projects & stuff

- The Idea TM

- WiS! Morro (Serpentine War Era)

- MoC! Morro

- Ronin wip?

- Finish Elemental Team Up

- Come up with a better name for Bizarro Ninja AU T-T

- TAG YOUR SHIT MARS T-T

- Written in Stone Masterpost/Infodump

- WiS: the Vengestone Situation

- should probably link all of the WiS!AU drabbles here, just to have them all in one place..

- 3 star au masterpost/general content

- baby Phos pentest doodle :P

- Valentines day shitpost

- Valentine's day shitpost (late) 😭😭 girl help

- all of my aus probably need a masterpost of their own...

#mars' w(h)ips #mars' projects #Written in Stone AU #Bizarro Ninja AU #Master of Creation! Morro AU #Dark Souls Ninjago AU #Strays AU

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 4 years ago

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Hi, thank for doing this and for hopefully not minding the other ask i sent, im hoping for a dude.

Qualities:

Loyalty, encouraging, very family oriented.

flaws:

on my phone too much, mostly to keep my hands busy, i AM paying attention! An awful sweet tooth. Push over :( i dont wanna disappoint people. Ask me to get you a cup of water and i’ll say no like im offended while getting you that water.

lots of half baked hobbies, i dont stay on one thing for long (crocheting, perler beads, little crafty stuff, rpg games, i do DO them just with long pauses between them)

lazy, i dont like cleaning but will help and willingly do the dishes.

i have no problem laughing at myself and have thick skin for it, once my friend spent an hour telling me how my fav sweater was so ugly a thrift store would pay me to give it to them out of pity and it was THE funniest thing and did not stop me from loving that sweater.

Really just love to appreciate art and fiction, what people can make is amazing just watching my friends draw or paint is really cool and fascinating!

Im a bit spacey, one time i forgot what a higfive was and gave them a hand hug instead.

Anothing thing is i cant be anyones drinking buddy, i dont drink or smoke, tho i dont mind people who do.

I’d like:

Someone whos comfortable with a lot of casual physical affection but wont get offended or take it personally when i need to be alone (not in a sad way just in a recharge way)

i dont use makeup ever and will not be told to dress up when i dont want to but i will accept help and suggestions when i do want to dress up.

Cannot under any circumstances throw away or replace my stuff without talking to me first.

Any dude i end up with is gonna have to deal with my hoarding, cute boxes, random items, old trinkets, boy we’re going THRIFTING and im re organizing the Collection of random items i like, possible that WE like 😳

Really like cats but believe they need to be indoors so you GOTTA have good enrichment for them. Dogs are great i just dont think id have the energy to take them for runs or walks as much as most dogs need.

I really like soups, soups with wantons and dumplings are pretty good to!

hope this isnt too much stuff??? would have used asks but only let me use like, less than 400 characters which is less than from other asks you posted so idk what thats about. anyways, thanks again!

___________________________________________

Hi !

It was a very difficult one, with lots of possibilities. For the other potential candidates, you had : UT Sans, UT Asgore, HT Sans, HF Sans, Dancetale Sans, D!Papyrus... But a very surprising one managed to beat them all, and it's...

DUSTALE SANS (Dune) !

Well, Dune is not an easy guy. You're not always understanding how his brain works, but at least, every day is an interisting experience.

Dune is very loyal. It takes literal months to gain his trust, but once he is trusting you, he can put his life in your hands blindly. He is lazy too, and you can sometimes mistake him for a cat with his weird habits. He needs encouragement to know when something he's doing is right, because after what happened Underground he has a very low self-esteem. He doesn't mind you being family oriented, even if you can see there's sometimes a small light that shuts in his eyes when you're talking about siblings. He's fine with your need to keep your mind busy, as long as he can just lay down in the couch and don't do anything during this time.

He has some difficulties with the push-over thingy however, since it's something Frisk did with him for a long time and he can get defensive when it happens. He has a sweet teeth too and loves eating garbage food. He has a certain sense of humor made of jokes about blood and corpses, but lighter jokes might makes him think of new soft ones. He's fine with creative activities, despite being bad at it. He is very forgetful and will need constant reminders of where to put things, because he gives up easily when he does'nt find something.

No worry for the affectionnate part. Dune has weird ways to show affections, like bringing you dead mouses like a cat, but he doesn't mind napping in your arms if it's what you wants. He understands if you need space, no problem, he can use this time to wander in the woods like the weirdo he is. He doesn't borrow things. However, there's a high chance you find him sometimes sleeping in your wardrobe. It's technically not borrowing your clothes if they are still in the wardrobe.

He's fine with cats, but it will take some time to explain him to not hunt the cat down. Once this phase is done, they are best buddies and you'll find them in all of his nap spots together. He's ok with soup. Well, he's ok with most of food actually (except spaghettis, for obvious reasons). He's a food vacuum, don't let anything on sight or he's taking it.

It's a bit of challenge, but Dune can be a great partner if you take time to learn how he is working !

#match up event #dustale #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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possibly-eli · 8 months ago

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time to actually make the post this was supposed to lead to. putting this under a read-more for my own comfort and also its probably going to be looonnggggg

so lately ive been properly pondering on the kind of world i feel like id be most comfortable living in. yaknow, economic-system wise. i havent really thought a whole lot about the social aspect of anything yet because ive been too busy thinking about This

and like. put simply; housing and utilities are free (ideally food as well but i'll elaborate on that in a second). its still ~generally~ capitalist, unfortunately, because i find myself not really able to comprehend what a completely non-capitalist world would look like, and this seems at least feasable, however aggressively unlikely it is to happen ever

the idea is essentials are free, but extra stuff isnt. so housing and utilities (and again; ideally food but ill expand on that) would be free, everything else would still cost. food would encompass ALL food, since. its All Food. fuck the sugar tax. utilities would be everything required in a house (electricity, water, plumbing, internet connection, lights. it might be a toss-up on gas but considering electricity would be free, thatd be an extra thing. appliances also since. those are important and technically Are the utilities) the housing itself would be free, as well which means that people would work for Wants, rather than Needs. its not like everyone ever is spontaneously going to stop Wanting things over night just because the world is slightly better to live in now. me being able to afford a place to live and not constantly worry about paying shit wont make me stop wanting art supplies. it just means that people will be less stressed because theyre not at risk of death if they dont work. it also means that the quality of whatever work they Will do will be better, because they wont be stressed and overworked. am i making sense so far education and healthcare could Also be made free, possibly. thats a bit up in the air, considering it is entirely reliant on assumptions that people go into those kinds of jobs for passion, rather than solely pay. but then again, i could be wrong. who knows. but the fact that people dont have to pay for housing, utilities and food*, itll mean it SHOULD be easier to pay off medical expenses. teachers and doctors construction workers would all still be paid for their work, obviously, but itd come from somewhere other than the clients themselves, i guess. details i cant figure out right now

the asterisk regarding food is that, maybe, if the idea of people working solely for wants is too big a stretch; food could still cost money. to make it a less strenuous, but still present, Need.

said as if this would ever, ever happen. i cannot express how badly i want it to. like obviously itd be a pain in the ass to work out the details of; im not educated in finances or whatever. i have a fucking LC education and passionate google searches under my belt. but i dunno, the idea of living in a world that is just like. less stressful is really nice, to me. at least, i view it as less stressful. youre guaranteed housing, and electricity, and food*. if you cant work, youre not at risk of being kicked out of your home or. fucking dying i got so lost in the daydream sauce about this that i genuinely forgot this Wasnt the world i live in. that in this one, i will have to rely on disability payments so ill be able to live. an allowance that they could just decide to deny me. i have to set up a medical insurance plan so ill be able to see a doctor about my multiple medical issues. i have to set up a medical card so ill be able to buy my medication so i dont have a heart attack. i dunno. maybe i just kind of really really wish the world wasnt so fucking malicious

and its not like thisd be a thing thatd only benefit disabled people. itd benefit fucking everybody except fucking billionaires. because to realistically have this happen, itd probably take a lot of finances From billionaires and that just fucking wont happen because they just cant bear to part with a fraction of their fucking. 38 billion. what the fuck do they need it for. there is nothing they can do with fucking. 40 billion that they cant do with 1. or fucking. 100 million i dont know. im so fucking upset about it. im just really fucking upset

i dont know what exactly the workers-having-the-means-of-production would be. itd all still probably be mostly the same, just a lot of major things would be free. it still wouldnt be ideal, but itd be so much better than this. in theory, a cap could be put on the amount of money a single entity could have (maybe with some variation, but for singular people itd be like. idk. 100 million maximum), and anything beyond that will just be donated back into the rest of the world so it wont just be One Asshole Having Literally All The Money

am i making sense? i really kind of hope im making sense. this idea is really important to me, i guess

would you guys still like me if i talked about my thoughts on the state of the world and the economy and some pretty anti-capitalist ideas

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 21//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this is later than usual folks! Busy schedule, but I’m determined to still post on Monday’s regardless!

XXX

I couldn't have been more elated than I was when Madja officially lifted my period of confinement and bedrest. Another couple of weeks flew by since receiving the news of Eris becoming the new High Lord of Autumn, and things were moving fast. After initially sending out invitations to our allies; directing them on where to send their armies and encouraging them and their entourages to come and stay in Velaris, the last thing I wanted was to be restricted to switching from my place in bed or ambling around the estate with little else to do while Rhys, Mor, and Clotho worked seamlessly to create adequate accommodations for our guests. Though we didn't have a palace like Thesan's to host them as he did for our summits, we had more than enough space for them with the guest suites I drew into the blueprints for the estate. However, neither Rhys nor Clotho allowed me to do anything while still in recovery—even when the first of the High Lords and their entourages began to arrive.

Helion was the first, with Thesan following only a couple of days later. With them being the closest to our court, they wasted no time in gathering their numbers and were in Velaris within days following their armies. They both marveled at how far along I was now, and especially at the impressively large mound my belly had grown to. Helion had cracked a joke about my size, which earned a protective growl from my mate and an earnest laugh from me. Thesan had been rather stunned and actually worried that I might go into labor at any given second; so, whenever we were in the same room, he watched me with wary eyes—afraid that any sudden movement might bring about the labor pains. He had reacted the same way with Viviane when she attended our last summit; using whatever resources he had at his disposal, like having every available midwife in the palace, in order to make sure she was comfortable and in case of emergency.

As our plans continued to move forward, I slowly and surely regained my strength with faithful reassurance from our healer that my health was flourishing. Finally, after an agonizing two weeks—where I grew more and more antsy and eager to jump into some kind of work, Madja announced that I was fully recovered and that I had officially entered the final stage of my pregnancy. With approximately two and a half months left, ending this coup was our crucial next step in preparing for our son. The last thing Rhys and I wanted was to welcome him into the world while simultaneously trying to quell the civil unrest in our court. With the threat having loomed over us since the beginning of my pregnancy and causing my mate and I great periods of stress and nearly cost us our son's life, ending Keir's act of tyranny would grant us the peace that was long ago stolen from us. Now that the end was in sight, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—knowing that our chances of a favorable outcome was just within our reach, and then we could shift our focus back onto welcoming our baby.

Madja's announcement had come just in time as well. Kallias and Viviane were due to finally arrive this afternoon, along with their newborn Eira. With Helion and Thesan well-adjusted and working closely with Rhys, Tarquin also having arrived just a few days ago, Kallias and Viviane were the last of our allies we would host—Tamlin and Eris remaining at their prospective courts for now but sending their contingencies of armies ahead of them. The Winter couple had wisely decided to wait the longest in order to allow the bond between them and Eira to calm. In her letters following Eira's birth, Viviane explained that while she was recovering from the ordeal, Kallias's mated instincts caused him to shelter her and Eira for nearly a month. They were also adjusting to their newborn daughter, and as mates, both of their instincts sent them into a frenzy—their innate urges compelling them to shelter their child. The first three months had been critical, Viviane explained, not only for her and Eira's recovery from the birthing process, but also in learning how to parent their daughter while their natural tendencies ruled them. Over those last three months, their compulsions slowly ebbed back into a sense of normalcy and they were able to integrate themselves back into civilization.

Rhys and I understood that level of vulnerability in a mated bond, having experienced it ourselves during my own convalescence. It only made us all the more grateful that they chose to side with us to end our dilemma, and it also provided a safe haven for Viviane and Eira. Viviane was nowhere near ready to fight three months postpartum, and since she and Kallias still couldn't be parted with each other for long, she and her baby would remain safe with me while Kallias and Rhys worked together with the other High Lords when the time for the confrontation finally came.

"Mind already abuzz this morning, Feyre darling?" Rhys purred in my ear; the arm thrown over my waist moving to pull me closer while we lay in bed.

I smiled, letting him bring me closer until my back was flush against the hard planes of his chest. I lazily checked to make sure my mental shields were intact, having just recently been able to keep them in place once again, while his lips drew a lazy line of kisses from my ear to the crook of my neck.

"How did you know?" I asked softly, turning my head into his.

"I don't need to read your mind in order to tell when you're excited, my love," he hummed.

My smile grew with a quiet laugh that quickly turned into a soft gasp as he rolled his hips into mine. I breathed his name, ready to reluctantly protest until he reminded me that with my lying-in suspended, we were clear to resume our bedroom activities—as promised between a private conversation with him and the healer. Another roll of his hips had me nodding eagerly at his silent request. Our joining was slow and gentle—Rhys taking me from behind at a leisurely pace. We took our time enjoying ourselves, delighting in being unhurried and reaching our peaks at staggered intervals.

"Now we can both greet the day with a better sense of ease." Rhys said as he nipped at my earlobe afterwards, his voice still deep and husky.

I laughed and turned onto my back to face him, resting a hand on my belly as I released a deep and relaxed sigh. "We're really going to be okay, aren't we?" I asked.

He placed a hand next to mine, running it up and down the expanse of my stomach gently. "Are you having doubts?"

I paused in thought. "I've just...been afraid. I know the situation isn't as dire as it was with Hybern, but the stakes still feel so much higher this time…"

"That's understandable," he said as he looked at my stomach. "This time you're pregnant, and we do have more to lose."

I frowned, tears swelling and threatening to fall before Rhys pressed a reassuring kiss to my brow. "But we are going to be okay, Feyre. I have promised you from the beginning that we would make it through this ordeal together, and we have. We're so close, and Keir will be dealt with. Then in a matter of months we'll be holding our son in our arms knowing his world is safer," he promised.

I blinked away my tears, Rhys brushing his thumb along my cheek gently. "I love you," I whispered.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my lips this time. "I love you, Feyre," he said and moved to kiss the top of my stomach gently. "And I love you too, my son."

I loosed another long breath, allowing it to calm the last of my nerves as Rhys moved back to his place at my side. "Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with the others?" He asked.

I nodded. "Should I scare Thesan by faking a few early labor pains?"

He threw his head back with a loud laugh. "You might just scare everyone, my love, including our friends who also heed your condition at all times," he answered.

I giggled and sighed dramatically. "That would be a little mean, wouldn't it?"

"Positively cruel, Feyre darling."

"All right, but I still want to find some way to torture Thesan, just a little bit."

Rhys laughed again before climbing out of bed, pulling me along with him as we began our routine in preparing for the day.

XXX

Eira was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.

She was technically the only baby, human or high fae, that I had ever seen; yet I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Viviane and Kallias arrived promptly after lunch; Kallias having safely winnowed the three of them to the main port in Velaris, where Rhys and I happily greeted them. A sleeping Eira was wrapped up in swaddling blankets, tucked into her mother's arms and I noticed this time it was Viviane who looked wary of her surroundings rather than her mate. At the summit, Kallias had been the one on high alert—his feral intuition heightened as a natural reaction to protect his vulnerable mate. Now it seemed their roles were reversed.

While Viviane was more than glad to see me, and even delighted in how much my belly had grown over the months, she kept Eira close to her chest the entire time it took us to walk back to the estate. Even now, as the four of us were gathered in the largest guest suite we had, Viviane was perched on the settee, cradling the baby close as she nursed—Kallias and Rhys in the adjoining sitting room to allow them privacy.

"She's so tiny," I breathed, marveling as I watched the small bundle in her arms.

Viviane brightened. "She's actually a lot bigger than when she was first born," she said, touching her youngling's pale rounded cheek.

I stared as Eira let out a small groan in response to her mother's touch, continuing to suckle quietly. Her hair, as white as her parents, was a smooth and thin coating on her perfectly round head; her eyes as icy blue as Kallias's, while the rest of her features resembled Viviane exactly. She reminded me of the female's sister, who I had only seen a handful of times since the war. After recalling a conversation where the two mentioned their looks came from their family's strong lineage, it came as no surprise to see that Eira was a carbon copy of her mother.

"Does that hurt?" I asked.

"Nursing?" She shook her head when I nodded, "Not really. It took some time to adjust at first, but it's not exactly painful."

I brushed an idle hand along the expanse of my belly. "There's so much I don't know yet," I sighed.

She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry Feyre, I had no idea what I was doing either. Right before the summit, I received a long lecture from my team of midwives on what to expect and how to care for her properly. I'm sure your healer is preparing to give you the same lesson."

I cringed. "She did say that starting at my next appointment she would be bringing along the midwife, her sister, now that I'm in the final weeks."

"Then you still have plenty of time to learn," she said. "How are you feeling?"

I sighed again as I rested against the settee. "Still tired. I'm hungry almost every hour of the day, and my back is unbelievably sore by the end of the night."

She smiled empathetically. "Are you feeling more movements from him?"

I nodded. "All the time. He's very...energetic these days, especially when Rhys is in the room, which is often. He loves to kick and stretch," I rubbed a spot on my belly for emphasis. "He used to take naps, I think, but in the last week I'm pretty sure he's decided that he won't sleep again until he's born."

Her answering laugh was melodic, Eira's stunning blue eyes fluttering open in response to the sound. "He probably won't sleep then either. Kallias and I are lucky if we get a couple of hours now; it's gotten better in the last month, but at first it's rough adapting to her schedule."

I gulped as I stared at my stomach, wondering if Rhys and I would be tormented by lack of sleep. "I don't mean to scare you," Viviane giggled. "It just takes some time to become accustomed to a youngling that's all. Once you actually see him, hold him, and nurse him...your world will revolve around him." She explained, pulling Eira away from her breast and adjusting her top expertly before scooping the youngling back up into her arms as she patted her back gently.

I laughed as that patting elicited the tiniest burp I had ever heard. "I'm assuming that's part of the nursing process?"

Viviane nodded, "Oh yes. These little ones tend to get gassy, so we help them along."

I paused for a moment as I watched her kiss Eira's cheek, cradling her close, and I imagined how in only a matter of months I would be doing the same with my son.

"Since you're here...I know you said as much in your letters...but how bad is it really? Labor?" I asked timidly.

She smiled sheepishly before contemplating how to answer me. I knew the last thing she wanted to do was instill fear in me, but I also knew she would be honest.

"I'll tell you what my midwives told me: every female's experience is different. Just as our pregnancies might differ, so will our labor's. For me, while my cycles are less than pleasant and always excruciating, I managed to find a way to alleviate the pains over the centuries. Because of that, I thought my labor would be...manageable. Unfortunately, I was wrong. It was...the hardest thing I had to endure. The pain left me...disconnected, in some way," she paused as the memories came back to her. "But Kallias was there the whole time. He kept me grounded and helped me through it all to the very end. I don't know what I would've done without him,"

She reached over to grip my hand gently. "But Feyre, you shouldn't be scared. Your mate, your Rhysand, will be there with you every step of the way too. I've seen the bond between you two, the love you share, and I have no doubt that he'll guide you through it all no matter how smooth or brutal the process might be. Who knows, maybe with his daemati abilities he could…"

I shook my head. "I don't want him to numb me. I...I want to be able to go through it as every female has for centuries. His mother endured it twice, and I figure if she could do it, if you could, then so can I."

"Of course, Feyre, if that's what you want. You do whatever is right for you," she affirmed. "In all honesty though, with Rhysand at your side you have nothing to worry about, and at the end of it all you'll welcome your son into a safe home."

I squeezed her hand, "I hope so," I admitted. I didn't have to reiterate how unsettled the coup, the very reason why she and our other allies were gathered in Velaris, left me.

She, as a new mother herself, understood perfectly. "You will," she promised. "And then you'll get to hold your beautiful boy. Have you wondered what he might look like yet?"

The image of the Bone Carver came to mind. Of those violet-blue eyes that nearly resembled mine, while all his other features were completely and utterly Rhysand.

"He'll look like Rhysand, I just know it." I said as I caressed my stomach lovingly, earning a glimmer and kick in response.

Viviane warmed as she looked at Eira, who now peacefully slept in her arms. "I was so glad when I saw that she had Kallias's eyes. I had a feeling that with my lineage she would look like me, but I still hoped she might look at least a little like Kallias. She has his spirit too, at least so far," she smiled as she smoothed the hair on the younglings head. "And Kallias, he dotes on her so much already. She hardly cries; all she has to do is wrinkle her little brow and he scoops her up."

"They say you can't spoil them at this age, but I'm sure he will as the years go on," she said.

"As I should," came her mate's voice as he walked in the room with Rhysand at his side.

My mate winked at me as he entered the room, crossing over to my side at the same time as Kallias came to Viviane's.

"I doubt our friends in the Night Court will be any different, especially with their brood." Kallias said with a smirk at me, before checking on his sleeping daughter. I noticed his fingers twitch, as if he might pick her up, but Viviane's hold was unrelenting.

"Viviane's maternal instincts are very...formidable." Kallias suddenly said, realizing my mate and I must have noticed that he hadn't held his daughter at all since their arrival. "The midwives warned us that it relates to our primitive ways; that females tend to be overprotective of their younglings for the first few months."

I blinked, and Viviane smiled sheepishly. "Back at home I don't have a hard time letting him hold and change her, but I think it's because of the change in environment now that I'm struggling."

Rhys and I exchanged an astonished look and I shrugged. "Well at least you know I won't be purposefully refusing to let you hold our son," I offered.

He smirked. "Poor Mor will be doubly disappointed, as will everyone else."

"It'll only really be intense the first week, for both of you actually," Viviane said. "The mating bond will make you both sensitive to outside influence, similar to when the bond first clicked into place."

Kallias shifted uncomfortably at the mention of something so intimate, but Rhys nodded in understanding. "We'll be in the Cabin for the duration of Feyre's recovery, so that should help."

I nodded. "The Cabin is also where you, my sisters, and I will be going...when that time comes."

"Are there any updates on that end?" Kallias asked, and I wondered what he and Rhys had been discussing in the other room if not about the business of ending the coup. "What did Eris's last report say?"

"He's managed to keep Keir at bay, hashing out details and negotiations for their supposed alliance and dragging them out for as long as he's needed to replenish the armies affected by their fighting," Rhys began. "According to his latest report, we should be expecting his soldiers any day now, along with Tamlin's."

"And then?" Viviane asked, holding Eira impossibly closer.

"Then we will lift the wards on our numbers, and have them march on the Ironcrest camp," Rhys started.

"Where that coward, Kallon, will inform Keir, and summon him here?" Kallias finished.

Rhys nodded. "Then we put an end to this for good."

I shivered at the darkness that laced in the promise of his words, and he quickly placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"What will you do with them?" Viviane quietly asked.

"Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel will deal with the Illyrians. As for Keir, we'll be handing him over to Mor. She's free to do as she wishes with him" I answered. Viviane nodded in approval, knowing the history and relationship our friend had with both her parents.

"Are you sure we can trust all of this in Eris's hands?" Kallias asked, his demeanor having shifted to a harder one.

"Azriel is keeping a close watch with his network of spies," I answered for Rhys.

"Not to mention with his court being in such shambles, entering another war against all of us, would be an extremely foolish move on his end," my mate added.

I scoffed. "Plus, he's probably enjoying his new position too much to risk losing it."

Our friends shared a wary glance, their eyes conveying their own silent exchange. "We trust you," Viviane finally said, adjusting Eira in her arms.

Rhys dipped his head in acknowledgement before turning to Kallias. "We'll ensure Viviane and Eira are safe with Feyre and her sisters in the cabin. Since the attack on Velaris we've set up stronger wards on all our properties."

Kallias's tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit at Rhys's reassurance for his daughter and Viviane's safety.

"I guess this time around you two will have to do without us." Viviane joked half-heartedly, though I could tell she harbored the same desire I had to do more for this fight.

You are doing plenty, my love, I promise you, Rhys said through the bond.

By that you mean carrying Sebastian? I mused back.

That is the most important thing right now, and more than I could have ever asked for.

I smiled at him, squeezing the hand on my shoulder, but we both looked up as a knock came from the sitting room. I saw Viviane flinch, bringing Eira close again.

"It's just Mor," Rhys reassured before waving a hand, opening the door for her.

Viviane smiled sheepishly at me as Mor entered the room. The blonde brightened when she saw her friend, but wisely didn't rush over to embrace her after noticing how protectively she held her child.

"Sorry to interrupt, I know you wanted to wait to greet the rest of us at dinner," Mor said empathetically to Viviane and Kallias. "But Azriel's spies returned from the Autumn Court with a report from Eris," she said to Rhysand and I.

"What did it say?" I asked, my heart beating faster.

"He's finalized his 'plans' with Keir, and his soldiers just arrived at Windhaven," she replied, her dark eyes hardening.

"What about the troops Spring promised?" Rhys asked, voice equally serious-his dark shadows beginning to stir.

I noticed the room growing colder as Kallias's own powers stirred at the news. "Cassian reported they're set to arrive at dawn," Mor said.

"So, it's time then, to lift the wards?" I asked—my words coming out more tense than I meant.

Rhys nodded stiffly. "As soon as the Spring soldiers arrive, we'll lift the wards. Keir and Kallon will surely meet us once we arrive at the Ironcrest camp."

"How long will that take, approximately?" Kallias asked, moving closer to his wife and mate-who rested her cheek atop Eira's head, still swaddled and sleeping in her arms.

"A day or two, at the most," Rhys answered.

We all exchanged the same strained, knowing, look and I wondered if they could hear the pounding of my heart as it settled over me that the time for this ill-fated encounter was at last about to reach its conclusion.

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aaudace · 4 years ago

Text

art of loving on

pairing: sam wilson x ava rhodes

word count: 2.5k

notes: the fact that im super late on posting this says a lot about me, so lets just pretend that its still thanksgiving. okay so i know that the title is cliche and this might flop big time, but i wanted to do something a little different besides simply posting gifs. im a sucker for reading sappy one shots so I decided to make my own. this is part one of my holiday one shot series. enjoy!

If you were to ask Ava Rhodes how she felt about the holidays, more than likely she would give you a whole monologue on her hatred for it.

Call her a Scrooge, but her love for the holidays had faltered a year ago after she lost the one thing that was considered a gift to her. Losing the one thing that brought her peace was the last straw that broke her to pieces. Her patience for the holidays had changed dramatically. No longer had she been longing for the joyous laughter and loving smiles that the goodwill season brought along.

Instead with every waking moment, she dreaded it.

However, for at least the next few hours, she had to throw away her personal thoughts about jolly holiday and put on a facade. Her face no longer carried a cold hearted look, but instead her cheeks were burning red with joy and laughter. Although she hated herself for it, the Rhodes girl would volunteer herself to help at the Veterans Affairs Office that was a couple blocks from her apartment.

Even though it pained her dearly to sit through hours of hearing individuals explain their gratitude and compassion for the season, a part of her felt like the peace that she lost was there with her when she volunteered. Before he died, her boyfriend Marcus would spend hours in the exact building that basically became a formulated routine of the two of them each holiday season. The one thing that Ava missed the most about him was his passion for helping others. Her heart sung with joy as she watched him go above and beyond for each individual that walked through the doors. He had a way with words that made people feel good about themselves. Whether you were the poorest individual or the richest, Marcus was willing to do whatever it took to bring the best out of you. At least that’s what he did for Ava.

God, she missed him.

But she managed to put on a brave face as she stood in the same position that he did before. Her mind and hands had been tied up in many things. For the first hour of her time, she served food to individuals that came by the office. Usually within the first few minutes, the small building was packed from the outskirts. So this kept her mind busy. The few next hours, she spent entertaining the elderly veterans with card and board games. The first hour was pretty easy for her, but soon afterwards, she came to the realization that card games and grown men didn’t really mix as well as she thought. Bernard Chapman and Arthur Wilfred, two regulars at the VA did not really understand the concept of a friendly competition. One minute, she was showing one group how to play Connect Four, the next she found herself in the middle of a brawl that involved childish name calling and sailor swearing. This also kept her mind busy.

And now, with time being the thief that it was, she found herself in the banquet hall that once housed thousands of individuals that came from different walks, cleaning up the remainder of the trash that was left behind. Although the help that she once had offered to stay behind and help, she ushered them out of the door. She didn’t mind doing the clean up part. Out of everything, that was the easiest to her. In other words, it kept her mind busy.

As she cleaned off the tables, a sigh escaped from her lips. The silence that had once inhabited the quiet space had come to halt at the creaking sound of the doors being pushed open.

She figured it has been one of the volunteers, Marge coming back to help her out with the clean up. Marge had been one of Marcus’ favorite volunteers to work with. Her sass was nothing compared to what he put up with at home with Ava, however, it was her golden heart that made her stand out. She was different from other volunteers. Marge had been working for the VA office for years after her husband passed away. For her, this place had been a sanctuary of peace. Just like for Ava. Marge had become family for Ava. She was the only person that knew her the way that Marcus had come to know her. Maybe that was the reason why Ava was able to remain stable throughout her time of volunteering.

“Marge, how many times do I have to tell you,” Ava yelled, placing her rag onto her shoulder. She didn’t bother looking up at the entrance way because she knew looking into the eyes of the shameless woman would only make it hard for her to say no to her. “You know, one of these days you are just gonna accept the fact that no means no.”

The sound of footsteps echoed across the room as they began to move closer and closer towards Ava directions. “I swear, sometimes I wonder how Marcus dealt with you. You are worse than me. And sometimes I can’t even stand me....”

At this point, Ava turned from her duty to look up at the shadowy figure. Her green eyes widened as she realized that the body figure didn’t quite match up to the petite figure that Marge had. Instead, it was made up of bicep muscles that hid under a dark leather jacket. Her mouth opened to protest, but she couldn’t find the words. In fact, the only thing she could say was, “Uh, um—”

“Just so you know, Marge was on her way back, I just managed to convince her to go home,” the man said. He moved a little closer, covering the large gap that stood in between them. “I swear, she reminds of someone that I know. Someone that’s kind of feisty, blunt, and can be a little sarcastic at times. Sometimes a little too much, but we are working on that.”

Ava rolled her eyes, “I think the key of life is getting your point across. And there’s nothing wrong with my sarcasm. Some people just don’t have a sense of humor.”

“Or sometimes you can be a little too harsh and you aren’t willing to admit that.”

“If it makes you happy,” she scoffed. “I managed to put away my sarcasm and trade it in for joy and cheer for the day.”

“Atcha girl,” he laughed. “Look at you turning over a new leaf.”

Ava smirked at him. She loved the idea that he was proud of her. It had been a while since she had felt like that before. “But, now that the day is over. I’m putting it back on and I am now returning to my normal sarcastic, feisty, blunt self. Ah, it’s good to be me again.”

All the man could do is sigh and return a small chuckle as a response. Ava smiled back a little. “But besides my issues, what are you doing here, Sam? It’s the holidays, you are supposed to be spending time with family.”

As she said this, she moved past him, focusing on the last of the table that she had to clean. The smell of fresh lemons brushed against her nostrils as she squirted the bottle of cleaning supply that had been resting in her waist apron. One thing that she loved the most about cleaning the VA office was the vast amount of cleaning products they stored. She really couldn’t her finger on why exactly she enjoyed them so much. She just did.

Maybe it was the idea that each of them held a fragrance that held a sentimental memory in her mind. Like the one that smelt like an island breeze reminded her of the time Marcus cleaned up after a man who accidentally spilled his carton of milk on the floor. It had been a slow holiday at the VA office that day. Although the man was generous enough to help Marcus clean up the mess, it was Marcus that had been too caught up with everything that he forgot to place the warning sign for the place that he mopped and managed to slip. That holiday, Ava spent the majority of the night cracking jokes as they occupied the waiting room of the hospital for Marcus’ broken back. The one that smelt like flowers reminded her of her first time volunteering at the VA office. She and Marcus had only been dating for a couple of months. As part of getting to know him better, he invited her to see what he considered his safe haven. When he wasn’t dealing with police business, he would spend his Saturdays, encouraging other veterans who had been down on their luck. Ava would later find out that his dad was the reason why the place even existed. New York only had a few VA offices, but there was nothing like the one that stood on the corner of Baldwin Avenue and 2nd Street.

The one that she loved the most was the one that smelt like lemons. That one was his favorite.

“I could ask you the same question, Ava.” Sam said. She didn’t bother to stop cleaning. “Mariah called and said you didn’t want to come over for Thanksgiving dinner. She said something about you being sick. But knowing you like the back of hand, I knew that wasn’t true.”

Ava laughed a little. She had totally forgotten about the little white lie she had mentioned to her friend earlier. Mariah Riggs, her best friend, was known for doing the most of the holidays. In fact, she’s so much into it that she basically starts all of her planning in the summer. The summer for Christ’s sake. “Well, I was sick, but after a little while I started feeling a bit better. It’s no big deal, I’ll call Mariah tonight and tell her the truth.”

“Which one?” asked Sam. “The truth about you not being sick or the truth of the real reason why you continue to hate the holidays.” At this, Ava stopped her motion and turned to look at him. “Ava, I understand your reasoning, but you can’t keep—”

“Sam, can we please not get into this? I really don’t have the energy.”

He sighed. “Ava, avoiding the topic will only make it worse. You can’t keep burying yourself in this hole of hurt.”

“I am fine, okay,” she spoke, her tone turning a bit harsh. “I just don’t understand why everyone is so concerned. Why is it a crime that I hate this time of year?”

“Because when Marcus was alive you enjoyed it.” Her heart sank. Even though it was unspoken for the two of them, Ava didn’t like it when other people brought up the issue of her dead boyfriend. Usually, her reaction was cold and she was ready to fight the first person in sight. However, Sam never really brought it up before so she really did not how to react. She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. “Marge told me that once upon a time, you were in love with the holidays. Now all you do is make any excuse to get out of anything festive just so you could stay locked up in your apartment. I can’t even get you say one good thing about the holidays.”

Her green eyes begin to water. She cursed at herself for even allowing herself to feel any type of vulnerability. He continued, “You don’t think when I signed up to be your boyfriend that I wouldn’t be prepared for these moments. Babe, you and I are a team. You have to let me in. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

He had a point, but Ava really didn’t want to admit that. However, the tears that streamed down her face said something else. The pair had been together for a little over a few months. And even though they seemed compatible, the thought of them getting closer scared Ava. If she was being honest, she was terrified when her heart started developing feelings for him. She was terrified when he asked out on a date. And she had been feeling this way for a hot second, but ironically, she was terrified of even bringing it up.

The silence stood in between for a moment. Sam stood in front her, his heart beating out of his chest. The longer she stood in silent, the more nerve wracking it became from him. The few months of dating Ava had its moments of challenges. But it also had its rewards. Even though she was tough, she had her moments to where she brought out the good in him believe it or not. And that was something that wasn’t easy. But she did it. And as someone who cared and loved her, he was willing to do whatever it took to do the same for her.

“I-I am scared that one day, I’ll wake up and you won’t be there for me.” Ava spoke, finally popping the bubble of silence. “I am scared that if I let my guard down, life will take away from me. Just like it did for Marcus. Sam, I want to let you in — I really do, but I am just tired of—”

Her words were cut off by the touch of his soft lips on herself. He placed his hands onto her waist, pulling her a little closer to him. Ava didn’t remember exactly when it happened, but sudden her hands were wrapped around his neck. Even though he was a couple inches taller she didn't have to stand on her toes, the heels of her boots did that job for her.

When he pulled away from her, he looked into her eyes and spoke, “Ava, it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than just life to keep me away from you. I am not going anywhere.”

“You say that, but what if—”

“I am not going anywhere, Ava.”

“Okay, but —”

“I could do this all day, Ava. I am not going anywhere.”

She rolled her eyes. As she pulled away from him, she wiped her face from her tears. Maybe life did have a way of giving back. And even though, life had gave her shit for her whole entire existence, maybe in some universal designed fate, life was giving her the gift of love again. And his name was Sam Wilson.

“Well, if that's the case then just know that since you are linking me to you forever, that doesn't mean I’ll go easy on you, Wilson.” she said. He shook his head and laughed. Maybe he was right? Letting him in couldn’t be such a bad idea. “I am known to be pretty grouchy in the mornings when I don’t have my coffee.”

“Noted. That's why I stack up extra coffee beans back at my place.” he laughed. “I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I love you more.” He smiled at her. Before she could say anything, he walked over a table just across from them. She didn’t realize it earlier, but he had a big brown bag that he propped on the table.

He placed the bag on the table that she finished cleaning. “So since you really didn’t get a chance to properly celebrate Thanksgivings, I figured I would bring a piece of it to you.” he said. He pulled out two plastic containers along with utensils. “Marge told me you like pumpkin pie, so I managed to get the last two pieces from that diner up the street.”

She laughed. From that moment, she made a mental note to take the time out to thank Marge for the many facts that she managed to learn about her. “Marge knows me well.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Ava. Here’s to many more holidays together.”

“Cheers to that.”

#a marvelous holiday #sam wilson x oc #ava rhodes #otp: love after war #damage control series #sam wilson fic #sam wilson au #marvel au #my edits #my writings

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meowlayn-art · 5 years ago

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You're really great at piano! May I ask you some question? I played piano for three years and then leave the lesson and continue by myself, but I'm not that good at it. Also, I'm not that big practicer(?) so what I want, miracles? Btw, how you get inspired? Have you ever had an "music block"? What kind of method of practice do you use? Thank you for your time! 🍀

♪ Hello dear pianist Anon ! ♫

Thank you for reaching out ! Although I am afraid I never posted a video of myself playing piano so you are giving me credit for something I can’t prove ( ´ ▽ ` ) (I was fairly good back in the days but not that much anymore haha).

I think you are referring to this post though, where I explained I got a new piano after stopping playing for a few years, and I was planning on learning MLQC”s theme. The video you saw, as I mentioned in the post, is a video by FlowerEmblem, who performed the MLQC theme (not me) beautifully and gave a link to the piano sheets in her description. If you enjoyed the performance please consider giving her a thumbs up and a nice comment on her Youtube channel (o´▽`o)ﾉ

NOW. I could give you a few advices, because I played piano for 12 years, and I still remember a thing or two haha.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

1) “ I am not good at it” : it can be hard to keep practicing when you don’t have a teacher to help and motivate you to do so. I know. I had a piano teacher and that’s what kept me motivated for years, but I learned ukulele all by myself, so I understand how someone can feel discouraged of not improving “fast enough”. But funny enough, you answered your own question, Anon : if you don’t practice… Then you won’t improve. No miracles indeed ! ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌ It goes for any craft, any skills.

My advice would be to pick one or two SIMPLE pieces you REALLY enjoy, and start with that. Don’t bite on more than you can chew ! Really, choose something simple and enjoyable and keep practicing until you feel comfortable to move on to a piece that is a little bit more complex. I truly started to enjoy playing piano when I looked for piano version of Naruto’s soundtracks ( Sadness and Sorrow will always be my all time favorite) and kept adding the difficulty with more and more complex pieces, little by little. Also, that’s my personal method, but I never moved on to another piece unless I truly ‘mastered’ the one I was learning �� and by that I mean being able to play with nuances and by heart.

2) Inspiration : movies I really enjoyed, songs that made me cry, video games with gorgeous soundtracks (FINAL FANTASYYY) and anime were my main source of inspiration.

Again, to keep yourself motivated, I would highly recommend melodies you are deeply attracted to, almost in a visceral way. Not only will you be able to recall the melody more easily and spot the mistakes you make along the way as you read the partition sheet, but it will also make the experience more enjoyable. After all, if you don’t have a teacher forcing you to play a specific piece then, you are free to choose whatever you like ! Remember : start with something simple, nice and enjoyable, with a repetitive melody (or at least something you know by heart) if possible.

3) Music block : yes, it happened. And it can also happen nowadays when drawing – that’s called art block and it SUCKS (ง ื▿ ื)ว My advice whenever you feel blocked (either because you are not inspired or because you are not satisfied with what you are currently doing) :

Try something new. Do small exercises. Try and learn some basic music theory. Have fun with silly sound effects if you have a digital piano/keyboard. Try a new genre – but always KEEP. IT. SIMPLE.

Feed your creativity : do ANYTHING ELSE than playing piano and let your brain do the rest. You’ll notice a nice soundtrack in this show here, a beautiful melody in this videogame there, a new song you really enjoy… As I said, my inspirations came from my day-to-day activities.

JUST TAKE A BREAK. Don’t force yourself. Inspiration won’t come if you are frustrated or exhausted. Just accept that it can take a few days/weeks/months to feel inspired again. If playing piano is not your job, then there is no need to rush things. Find something else to keep yourself busy and it will come back 😊

4) Practice : so I might not be the best person to answer this one because I am not a professional, and that’s the method that worked for ME.

I usually make sure I am sitting correctly, that my nails are cut short, my hands are correctly positioned above the keyboard, I don’t have jewels or hair bothering me…

And then I decipher the partition bits by bits, right hand first, then left hand. Once I am comfortable with BOTH, I put them together – I am not that great at reading and playing at the same time at first. I usually do small sessions (not more than 45min because after that reading the sheets feels exhausting). And I don’t decipher the whole partition in one go – I prefer to “master” small bits at a time especially for long pieces, so that I can feel a sense of accomplishment between sessions – also my brain keeps working between the sessions and will memorize the gestures easier if it rests. I have always been taught that its better to work a little bit everyday than to try and learn everything in one afternoon 😊

My very talented writer friend @truth-be-told-im-lying blog (18+ blog) is a professional pianist and I am sure she could have a few more advices to add to this but I leave it to her :D Also please check out this beautiful collab she did with the amazing @saeyoungs-sunflower, it gave me chills ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

Thanks for you message Anon, I hope it was useful in some way !

#ask #not art related #i mean kinda #piano music #anon #truth-be-told-im-lying #saeyoung-sunflower

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lake-arrius-caverns · 4 years ago

Text

Nerevarine Rising

Chapter 9: Outlander Avenger

this took too long to post heehoo ive noticed that sometimes italics don’t save when im posting on tumblr? might have been a glitch idk but in that case it’s better to read on AO3 where the formatting is actually proper lol

summary On their arrival to Vivec City, the twins part ways and Fahjoth finds himself drawn into the investigation of a very serious crime.

content warnings violence, blood, minor character death

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

————————————————————————

“Ey, Ribyna, have you ever heard of Ashlanders?”

“Yeah, why?”

Fahjoth paused, pulling a disgruntled pout. The sun had well and truly set now; the last vestiges of warmth had evaporated entirely, replaced by a nipping chill and creeping shadows that submerged their surroundings in deep blue blankets. Vivec City loomed in the distance, unlike anything Fahjoth had ever seen before. Instead of individual houses like he had seen in every other town he’d been to so far, the city was populated by rows of colossal cantons, square and blocky yet towering over them with a kind of intimidating grandeur. Walkways bridged the gaps between the cantons, stretching over the rolling waters of the Ascadian Isles’ open bay, and several flags and tapestries fluttered from the sides of the cantons, embroidered with differing patterns and art that Fahjoth couldn’t make out from a distance.

Turning his gaze back to Ribyna as they crossed the bridge towards the first canton, Fahjoth gave an exasperated huff, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. “Oh, so it’s just me, then?” he questioned. “Being an idiot as per usual. D’you know, I made a right tit of myself to Cosades earlier. Told him I didn’t know what Ashlanders were, then he gave me a bollocking for being a dipshit. I mean, how was I supposed to know? Nobody’s told me!”

Ribyna’s response was surprisingly terse. “Well, maybe if you kept your mouth shut more often instead of chatting a load of shit, you’d listen and actually learn something for once.”

Fahjoth blinked, taken aback by this harsh rebuttal. He was used to Ribyna’s blunt manner of speaking of course, but this was something else entirely. He had noticed her demeanour getting more subdued and her posture stiffening the closer they got to Vivec City, and chalked it up to weariness after their long walk. Now, however, he was not so sure. Was that a hint of nervousness he detected in her voice?

“Are you alright?” he asked, then frowned sympathetically. “Bit nervous about being in the big city?”

“What?” Ribyna turned back to Fahjoth and flashed him a scathing look. “No, of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

“Then what is it?” He received no response, as Ribyna stopped walking and examined their surroundings, occasionally dropping her gaze down and squinting at the map she held.

“Right, I’ve got some shit to do,” she announced, as if she hadn’t even heard Fahjoth’s concerns. Fahjoth was certain that this wasn’t the case. “I’ll see you later.”

“Whoah, hang on a second!” Fahjoth protested, disconcerted by Ribyna’s unexpected change of plans. “I didn’t realise we’d be splitting up. What are you doing, anyway?”

“Just... stuff,” Ribyna replied vaguely. Fahjoth grimaced; perhaps it was best that he didn’t know the details after all, if she was here on business with the Thieves Guild.

“Alright, fine,” Fahjoth said, relenting. “But where should I meet you?”

“Uh...” Ribyna gestured aimlessly at the immediate canton, the details on its banners now impossible to make out in the dark. “The map says this is the Foreign Quarter. Just find a cornerclub or something in here and get a room sorted for us. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.”

“Right,” Fahjoth replied mutedly. Admittedly, he was disappointed; he had been assuming that he and Ribyna would explore Vivec City together, but now, he was resigning himself to being Billy-No-Mates for the next few hours, or however long Ribyna would take to do her mysterious errand. “See you later then.”

Fahjoth thought Ribyna may have flashed him an apologetic glance before she turned away, but then she stalked away along the path flanking the canton and rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Heaving a sigh that materialised in the air as a faint puff of steam, Fahjoth turned and headed up the sloping path towards the canton’s upper door, slipping inside and into the warmth.

The inside of the canton was well-lit with torches and rather cheerfully decorated, an array of potted plants sitting in the corners while colourful tapestries and banners hung from the walls. Fahjoth could see a variety of people going about their business, not just Dunmer but Imperials, Bretons, and Redguards, among others, and in that moment he felt a strange sense of almost belonging. Initially he was surprised, until he realised that he was in the Foreign Quarter, and he was left with a deep feeling of despondency instead.

This grim reminder that he truly was an outlander was accentuated by the unrelenting glares he received from the Ordinators who patrolled the corridors, striking an intimidating presence with their gleaming gold armour and helmets, fashioned into the shape of a sharp elven face with a crest of hair atop their heads.

“We’ll have no trouble here,” one of the Ordinators said in a low, rasping voice as he walked by. “Move along.”

Suppressing a shudder, Fahjoth began to wander around the upper floor of the canton, trying to look as if he knew where he was going as opposed to being totally lost. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long before he found himself at a door with a sign overhead reading The Black Shalk Cornerclub. Figuring that he was not going to find anywhere more ideal than this, he pushed the door open and stepped in with caution.

The cornerclub was quiet, with only a few punters sitting around tables or standing in the corners of the room, deep in conversation. A Dunmer stood organising a collection of bottles behind the counter, while an Argonian sat at the bar nursing a drink of his own. Fahjoth approached, plonked himself onto a stool near to the Argonian, and offered him a smile of greeting. The Argonian, who had seemed quite tense as Fahjoth sat down, suddenly relaxed and gave Fahjoth a polite smile in return.

“Can I have a mazte, please?” he asked the barman, reaching into his pocket for his coin purse. “Oh, and how much would a room be for the night for two people?”

“That’ll be twenty drakes for the room, sera,” the barman replied, pushing a bottle of mazte towards Fahjoth. “And ten for the mazte.”

“Oh, alright, cheers! I’ll take it then,” Fahjoth replied, handing over the coins with relief. He caught the Argonian’s eye and chuckled, a wry grin curling the corner of his mouth. “Ribyna reckoned it’d be more expensive than that.”

“Ribyna?” the Argonian questioned.

“Ah, that’s my twin! She’s off doing... something,” Fahjoth answered, his voice trailing off thoughtfully as a mild frown settled on his face. “I’m not sure what. She wouldn’t say.”

“I see. That sounds rather sinister.” The Argonian smirked. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Fahjoth couldn’t hold back an awkward giggle. “You’re right, sorry. My name’s Fahjoth,” he said, holding his hand out, which the Argonian shook after a brief pause.

“Huleeya,” he introduced himself, withdrawing his hand and taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I can’t blame your twin for being secretive. Not with this recent spate of attacks on outlanders.”

Fahjoth’s smile slipped from his face. “Attacks?”

“Oh, yes.” Huleeya nodded gravely. “Not just attacks, but murders. Five outlanders have been found dead this week. Not only that, but two Ordinators have been found dead too. Killed in the same way — that is, with their throats slit.”

“Gods alive... Do they know who’s doing it?”

“If they knew, they would have been caught already,” Huleeya replied. “The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer, from what I’ve heard.”

Fahjoth paused. Though this had given him a lot to think about, there was something else he wanted to ask. “Is that why you looked a bit...” — he gestured vaguely with a wave of his hand — “on edge when I came over?”

“Hm? Ah, no. It’s not that,” Huleeya said. “It just wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had trouble from the local Dunmer, that’s all.”

“What do you—?”

“Excuse me, outlander. I should get going.” Huleeya finished the remainder of his drink and stood up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fahjoth. You and your twin should be careful if you’re out wandering alone at night.”

“Ah... we will. Thanks, mate,” Fahjoth answered, watching as Huleeya said his farewells to the barkeep and took his leave. Once again, Fahjoth was left alone with his thoughts, and he began to get some very dangerous thoughts indeed.

The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer...

He bit his lip as he nursed his mazte, quietly wrestling with his own brain. To think that he would be able to go up against a serial killer who had slain two highly trained Ordinators was madness, and yet...

By the time he had drained the last of his mazte from the bottle, he had made his decision. Fahjoth stood up, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of foreboding, dropped off his supplies in his rented room and headed outside into the fresh night air once more.

——————————————

The Office of the Watch was much further away than Fahjoth had anticipated, and by the time he arrived, his legs — which had been trembling with nerves — were heavy and aching from weariness, which didn’t bode well for what he had to do. It had been a very long day already, and more than anything Fahjoth was craving a nice warm bed to fall into, but he’d come all this way. There was no going back now.

After navigating the Hall of Justice — with some difficulty, assuaged only slightly by the directions given to him from irate Ordinators on patrol — Fahjoth eventually found himself at the doors of the Office of the Watch, which he knocked gently and waited to be given permission to enter.

Peering around the door, Fahjoth was faced with a rather small and cluttered office inhabited by three Dunmer in the usual golden cuirass and boots, who were sitting at messy desks and perusing sheaves of parchment. One of them, a dark-haired Mer with a moustache and goatee, eyed Fahjoth as he crossed the threshold, the heavy bags under his eyes indicative of his tiredness.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “We’re very busy, as you can see.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Fahjoth apologised, “but I’m looking for an Elam Andas?”

“Yes, that’s me. I am Elam Andas, chief of Vivec's Order of the Watch. Are you here looking for work?”

Fahjoth bit his lip, knowing full well that this was his last chance to back out of his foolish and potentially suicidal mission, but he ploughed on anyway. “I heard you were looking for help solving these recent murders.”

The effect his words had on the office was startling. The officers stopped what they were doing, each of them fixing their red eyes on Fahjoth with dubious expressions. Fahjoth remained silent until Andas spoke again.

“We cannot officially hire you as only Ordinators can serve the watch,” he explained. “But if you can find this killer and bring them to justice, we’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your efforts.”

Bring them to justice? Now that was something Fahjoth was sure was well above his pay grade. He had been hoping to do a bit of investigation, to help the Watch with their search, but to be tasked with bringing down a serial killer himself? That wasn’t something he was at all confident he could handle.

“Oh, I—” he started in alarm, but Andas cut him off.

“I require no commitment from you,” Andas informed him. “In fact, I can’t even officially accept one. But if you’re serious about helping, I can tell you what we know so far about the killer and the victims.”

After a moment of hesitation, Fahjoth nodded, and Andas gestured to the seat across his desk. Fahjoth obeyed, sitting and listening in silence.

“There have been seven victims so far, five outlanders and two Ordinators, and all with their throats slit. Three of the victims were found in the Foreign Quarter, one near the Arena and one in the Hlaalu Compound. None of the outlanders had been on Vvardenfell for more than a week.

“Our Ordinators were found near the body in the Hlaalu Compound, and we think they interrupted the killer at work. Despite the fact that they were armed and on duty, their weapons were still in their sheaths when their bodies were found, which is unsettling. We’re likely looking at someone incredibly stealthy, or adept at illusion magic.”

It was times like this that Fahjoth dearly wished he could read and write. At least then he would have been able to make notes.

“Finally... there is the matter of witnesses. We’ve had no official witnesses come forward, but one outlander reported being threatened by a Dunmer woman with a dagger in the Hlaalu Compound, around the time of the other murders. He couldn’t give us a very clear description as he teleported himself away to safety, but he told us she was wearing a skirt and netch leather armour.”

Fahjoth nodded, frowning as he tried to absorb all of this information, all the while his heartbeat had quickened uncomfortably with apprehension. Without further ado, he stood and excused himself from the office, heading back outside and into the late night’s chilly grip.

Hearing about the victims, as well as Huleeya’s dire warning, had strengthened Fahjoth’s resolve. Someone was lurking in the shadows of Vivec City, slaughtering innocent people seemingly purely because of their foreign origins. People just like him.

His years spent away from Morrowind had left him as good as an outlander in the eyes of the native Dunmer, and if someone considered that fact alone a trait punishable by death, then they couldn’t be allowed to continue to walk free. Someone needed to deal with them, and if the city’s Ordinators couldn’t — or wouldn’t — then perhaps it would be up to him.

Although... it would probably be a good idea to find Ribyna first, Fahjoth figured as he set off towards the city’s northernmost cantons, before he went blundering headfirst to his potential death. Again.

The path ahead was dark and unsettling, and Fahjoth found himself throwing anxious glances over his shoulder every few minutes, flinching at the slightest unexpected sound and eyeing every shadow with mistrust lest he be ambushed by a dagger-wielding, skirt-donning Dunmer intent on ending his life. It was with relief that he made it to the first of his destinations and, incidentally, the last place he had seen Ribyna heading towards — the Arena.

——————————————

Unfortunately for Fahjoth, Ribyna was nowhere to be seen, so he lingered around the Arena for long enough to do some investigating, inquiring with a few inhabitants and Ordinators but turning up no new leads. Eventually he was forced to resign himself to the fact that he would be a lone worker in this case — a thought that inspired a well of dread in his gut — and moved on.

The same was to be said with the Hlaalu Compound, where Fahjoth had checked in the hope that someone would have seen something about the attempted attack, but he had no luck there either. He then moved on to the Foreign Quarter where, to his surprise, an Orc was happy to assist.

“I recall someone — maybe one of the sewer cleaners — saying something about seeing a Dunmer woman down in the Underworks. Wouldn’t be that odd, but... in the Underworks? That’s odd. Nothing down there but rats and sewers.”

Which led Fahjoth to his next point of investigation — the Underworks.

——————————————

The moment he stepped foot in the Underworks, the smell hit him like a brick to the face. Almost choking on the pungent stench of sewage water, Fahjoth lingered for just long enough to feel just a little more regret before he set off, trying to forget the misgivings he felt. He yanked his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth and navigated the Underworks as carefully as he could, every footstep deliberately placed to be as quiet as possible. He was well aware that the killer could be lurking around any corner, and the deeper he tread into the sewers the more he felt his legs begin to tremble.

It was almost silent down here, the only sounds being that of the murky water sloshing against the smooth stone sewer walls and the occasional drip of moisture from the damp-ridden ceiling. Every so often he would hear a rat scuttling around in the darkness and his heart would jolt, requiring him to take a moment to stop and let his adrenaline levels fall after an unpleasant spike that set his pulse racing.

As he progressed, however, more unpleasant thoughts began to surface in his mind. One possibility kept presenting itself to him, and as hard as he tried to reject it, he found that he couldn’t wholeheartedly dismiss it.

“What are you doing, anyway?”

“Just... stuff.”

He remembered that strange look on Ribyna’s face when he mentioned going to Vivec City. He could tell easily when his twin was apprehensive, and as brief as it was, it had been only too clear to see on her face back in Balmora. Was she nervous about returning to the scene of the crime?

But that was ridiculous! His twin wasn’t a murderer!

What reason would she have to kill outlanders, anyway? The more Fahjoth thought about it, the more illogical it seemed. Least of all because he had never even seen Ribyna wear a skirt for as long as he could remember. So why couldn’t he simply disregard it? The fact that he even had doubts in the first place said enough, and he was even more nervous as he crept through the tunnels, dreading the possibility of seeing his twin around the next bend.

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts that as Fahjoth rounded a corner and exited a smaller tunnel into a larger section of the sewers, he didn’t even notice the figure standing at the end of the tunnel until he was looking straight at them. With a choked gasp, he flung himself back around the corner from which he had just emerged and pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach tied up in knots. After pausing to listen for any sign of the stranger’s approach, he deemed it safe enough to peer around the wall again and get a better look at the figure ahead.

Even in the low light, he could tell that it was a Dunmer, and they were indeed wearing a skirt with what seemed to be a leather cuirass. This particular corner of the sewer almost looked like a base, with a scruffy bedroll laying on the ground near evidence of where a makeshift fireplace had been lit in the form of a charred mound of wood scraps. A pile of dilapidated crates and debris were strewn haphazardly around the alcove, in some cases holding — or failing to hold — contents like food and bottles of alcohol. Evidently, this was someone who had stocked up for some time.

Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed Fahjoth yet. She sat atop one of the crates, perusing some sort of book or journal and occasionally making notes. A dagger — stained an ominous rusty hue — sat by her side, and Fahjoth’s suspicions were all but confirmed.

How was he going to do this?

He could call it a day, back out quietly the way he came and return to the Office of the Watch with what he knew of the killer’s whereabouts. But even then, would anything get done? Would the Ordinators get here in time before the killer made another move, and claimed another victim?

Perhaps if he could sneak up behind her, he could get the advantage. He knew better than anyone that he was no master of stealth, but she looked fairly preoccupied. Perhaps if he was quiet and quick, then—

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did he become aware of a weight suddenly pulling vigorously on his foot. As he looked down, he silently squirmed and grimaced at the sight of a large rat digging its teeth into the chitin, shaking its head as if determined to pull his boot clean off. It made no noise other than a soft, squeaky growl, but the splashing of the water beneath its paws was unsettlingly loud and echoed due to the circular tunnel’s acoustics. If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before the killer would notice him.

“Get off!” Fahjoth hissed, frantically shaking his foot. “Get off! Get off, you little c—!”

Unfortunately, the rat refused to budge. It was dragged along in the wake of Fahjoth’s mild kicks, which gradually grew more and more vigorous as he fought to free his foot of the rat’s vice-like grip. Leaning on the wall for balance, he raised his foot up off the ground, now aggressively kicking at the air when all prior attempts at gently shaking the rat off failed. The situation would have been comical had Fahjoth not been so painfully conscious of the murderer sitting barely 20 yards away from where he stood.

At last, after what felt like hours, the rat let go. However, the momentum given to it by Fahjoth’s kicking motion caused it to gracefully soar away as it was flung off his foot and land with a tremendous splash in the deep sewer water in front of him.

Instantly, Fahjoth froze. He pressed himself back against the wall, his breathing fast and laboured as he strained his ears for any sign of movement. Apart from the splashing of the rat as it swam away, apparently done with terrorising Fahjoth for the time being, all was silent. Then, as he dared to peek around the corner to evaluate the situation, a pair of red eyes stared into his own as he made direct eye contact with the Dunmer.

Her reaction was instant. She leapt up from her seat, dagger in hand, and stormed the length of the tunnel towards him, already screaming abuse and profanities in his direction. Kicking hard off the ground, Fahjoth threw himself into motion, and with the Dunmer hurtling closer his options for where to go were limited. A brown and grey blur in his peripheral as he passed indicated that the Dunmer was giving chase, but with the advantage of having longer legs, Fahjoth half-sprinted and half-leapt over a nearby bridge spanning the sewer water before pelting down to the tunnel’s end. Whirling around once he came to a stop, the Dunmer was mere seconds behind him, so Fahjoth drew his sword and stood fast.

Wielding a dagger which seemed to emanate a sickly red glow, his opponent lunged, landing a glancing blow against Fahjoth’s armour as he leapt back. But she was much faster than he had anticipated. He stumbled back and threw himself from side to side to avoid the Dunmer’s aggressive strategy of repeated jabs and slashes, breaking into a sweat and feeling his flanks ache with every shallow pant. One thrust of the dagger slid between the gap in the chitin protecting his arm, slicing through the sleeve and nicking the skin beneath.

With a gasp, Fahjoth flung himself backwards. There was a dull thud as his heel collided with something on the ground and his balance was completely thrown off.

His stomach lurched as he began a sharp descent, hitting the ground with a painful bump. The scraping and groans of the crates he fell against rang in his ears as the Dunmer was suddenly filling his vision, dagger poised ready to plunge into his throat.

With his sword arm raised in a vague attempt to defend himself, Fahjoth reached to the side, grasping at nothingness in a frantic search for something, anything, that could—

The cold sliminess of damp wood brushed against his fingertips. He fastened his grip, braced himself and flung the broken chunk at his assailant with as much force as he could muster.

The jagged lump of wood, a deadly weapon in its own right in the right circumstances, struck the Dunmer square in the face. She staggered back with a howl of pain, clutching her eye while blood seeped from a fresh injury above her brow. With adrenaline coursing through him, Fahjoth sprung to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword with fingers now damp from his own blood.

The Dunmer lifted her gaze to Fahjoth again, her uninjured eye blazing with a chilling hatred, but before she could make another move Fahjoth had sprung. He rushed forward and thrust his sword into the Dunmer’s midriff, the tip of the blade piercing the thin, aged leather of her armour with surprising ease. Then he continued pushing forward, until his sword had been buried up to its hilt into her stomach and protruded out from her navel.

The Dunmer froze, paralysed by the deadly blow, and Fahjoth relinquished his weapon and backed off, unable to do anything else but stare as she staggered to the side and fell. A sharp clang announced her collision to the ground as the sword’s blade hit the ground first, but once her momentum stopped and she lay still, total silence fell upon them.

Silence, apart from the sound of Fahjoth’s ragged breathing.

As he stared down at the lifeless Dunmer on the ground before him, Fahjoth only became conscious of how badly his legs were shaking when he tried to take a step forward and his knees almost buckled beneath his weight. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over, as he silently watched the blood starting to ooze out from beneath her body.

He had done this.

Someone was dead because of him.

The more logical part of his brain insisted that if he hadn’t, it would have been him lying there in a pool of his own blood instead. But that didn’t make him feel much better about the fact that he had just taken someone’s life.

There was a part of him that didn’t even want to approach the body to retrieve his shortsword, but at the end of the day, he had paid good money for that. And it wasn’t as if he had a backup. So with a trembling hand he grasped the hilt, slowly prising the sword out of the Dunmer’s body and wincing at the sickening sound of the blade gliding against flesh, squelching and wet. He cleaned the metal as best he could using linen from the makeshift bed, then sheathed his weapon and reluctantly searched the camp for evidence to present to Elam Andas.

He didn’t find much of any substance. The journal the Dunmer had been reading was, of course, impossible for him to read. Quite apart from not finding any sense in the words, it was damp and smudged terribly to the point where it was barely legible. Still, perhaps the Office of the Watch would have better luck; he took it, along with an old rusty key and the Dunmer’s dagger, which left him feeling oddly nauseous and drained after his fingertips came into direct contact with it.

The damp stickiness of blood on his arm and staining his sleeve was impossible to ignore, as was the injury beneath it, so Fahjoth took a moment to attempt to heal it on his own. With the spell he had acquired from the Mages Guild in mind, Fahjoth closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration; he racked every corner of his brain, searching for any spark that could ignite the spell that he could feel hesitating at his fingertips. But in his already worn-out state, the attempts only ended up draining yet more of his energy and left him with a considerable headache. In the end he conceded and admitted defeat, recognising a lost cause when he saw one.

Then Fahjoth embarked on the long walk back to the Hall of Justice, craving fresh air and a warm bed above all else. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he had successfully taken on a serial killer and lived to tell the tale, but there was an odd light-heartedness in his chest as he traipsed back along the paths through Vivec City’s shadowy cantons, feeling somehow more confident than before.

——————————————

Fahjoth’s triumphant — albeit exhausted and bloodied — return to the Office of the Watch was met with disbelief at first, followed by amazement once he broke the news that the killer had been dealt with. Elam Andas was thrilled and accepted the dagger and journal as evidence without question, perhaps a sign of how desperate he was to believe that this Dunmer was no longer a threat. After expressing his gratitude he sent Fahjoth on his way, with a promise that Ordinators would be sent to clean up the mess and the reward of an enchanted belt to protect him on his travels, which Fahjoth accepted eagerly. Although he was pleased with the response to his daring deed, he was now more than ever looking forward to collapsing into bed after a very, very long day.

With thoughts of only soft pillows and warm sheets on his mind as he entered the familiarity of the Foreign Quarter, it wasn’t until he came face-to-face with someone approaching the hallway to the cornerclub from the opposite way that he realised he had forgotten something — or rather, someone.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth exclaimed, recognising his sibling even from a distance. But something was wrong. There was no wave or call of greeting from Ribyna, who walked silently over to him with a pronounced limp in her step.

“Ribyna?”

In the light of the torch that hung from the nearby wall, Fahjoth could see that Ribyna was in a dreadful state. Her armour was scuffed and damaged in places and her hair was a mess, but most worryingly was the copious amount of bloodstains that spattered and smeared her almost from head to foot.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth gasped, rushing over to meet her and instantly beginning to fuss. “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Ribyna grunted, making a half-hearted attempt to push Fahjoth away.

“You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s fine. It’s not my blood.” Ribyna paused to wince, doubling over slightly and gritting her teeth. “Most of it...”

Before Fahjoth could question her further, they were interrupted by the rapid approach of an Ordinator, his sword drawn and raised at Ribyna threateningly.

“Halt!” he barked. “Murderous scum! You violated the law, outlander. Surrender and come with me immediately.”

Fahjoth's mouth fell open with horror. Murderous? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake...

However, Ribyna's silence was not encouraging. Instead of protesting her innocence, she reached into a pocket and tugged out a somewhat bloodstained roll of parchment, which she passed over to the guard without a word. To Fahjoth's astonishment, once he had finished reading it, he nodded and tucked the note away in his own armour.

“All of your papers seem to be in order,” he said, dipping his head to Ribyna. “You are free to go.”

And then he walked away, leaving Fahjoth utterly bemused as he stared at his still very quiet twin.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell just happened?” he questioned, and Ribyna huffed.

"In a sec. Let's get inside first," she muttered, slipping away into the cornerclub without waiting for a response. Fahjoth, left with little choice, followed her in and then led the way to their room. The moment he opened the door, Ribyna pushed past him and dropped down onto the bed with a groan — much to Fahjoth's displeasure, as he had been hoping to do this exact thing first.

“Well?” he prompted, lowering himself into a nearby chair and slouching back, relishing the chance to take the weight off his sore feet for a while. “What was that guard on about, calling you ‘murderous scum’?”

It was a moment or two before Ribyna dragged herself upright again and turned her gaze to Fahjoth.

“I joined the Morag Tong.”

Fahjoth, who had been in the process of removing his boots, froze motionless as he felt his blood run cold. “You what?!” he hissed, once he found his voice again. “You’ve— what?!”

“Yeah.” Ribyna’s tone was level as she stared back at Fahjoth, looking more tired than defensive. “Don’t start, alright? I’m knackered.”

“Don’t st—?!” Fahjoth bolted upright, keeping his voice hushed as best he could but fighting to quash the outrage that burned in his chest. “You’ve gone and joined a murder cult and you’re telling me to not start?!”

“It’s not a murder cult!” Ribyna protested. “It’s perfectly legal!”

“Just because it’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s not a—” Fahjoth stopped mid-rant, rubbing his eyes with exasperation. “Just... Ugh, what have you gone and done that for? Can’t you just do something... normal?! Like... I dunno, go join the Fighters Guild if you really wanna stab things!”

“No.” She slouched down, looking suddenly more tired than ever. “Look, maybe I’m fed up of being treated like the shit on everyone’s shoes, alright? Maybe I just... wanted a bit of respect for once.”

Fahjoth faltered, experiencing a flicker of sympathy for his twin. He knew that feeling all too well. “Beebs, you don’t need to become a murderer to be respected.”

“I was already a murderer,” Ribyna pointed out bluntly. Fahjoth felt a twist in his gut, memories from that horrendous day threatening to resurface in his mind. “At least this way I can get paid for it.”

Fahjoth paused, struggling to find an argument and fighting to put into words exactly how he felt about Ribyna’s new career choice. Eventually, he heaved a sigh. “But... it can’t be safe. Look, you’re injured! I’m... I’m worried about you, Ribyna.”

“Well, don’t be. Turns out I’m half-decent at killing people.” Naturally, Ribyna’s answer didn’t reassure Fahjoth in the slightest, but she ploughed on anyway with a change of subject. “Anyway, what about you? What have you been up to?” Now that she was evaluating Fahjoth properly, her eyes soon fell on the bloodstains that still blemished his clothes and armour. “Is that blood?!”

“Yeah... and this time, it is mine. Honestly, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, Beebs,” Fahjoth said, before he began to regale the whole story; meeting Huleeya, learning about the outlander killings, going to the Office of the Watch, venturing into the Underworks...

By the time he had finished, Ribyna was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Hang on,” she started, “you killed someone and you’re having a go at me for joining the Morag Tong? Hypocrite, much!”

“I— but— what?!” Fahjoth spluttered, affronted. “Th-that’s different! I’m not an assassin, I was stopping a serial killer—”

But he promptly shut his mouth once he noticed the wry grin curling at the corners of Ribyna’s lips.

“I’m only messing,” she chortled, her smirk quickly becoming a proud smile. “Holy shit, that’s amazing, Fahji. Shame they didn’t pay you for it, mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Fahjoth replied honestly, calming down again. “I’m just glad she can’t hurt anyone else.” He paused, feeling heat rising in his face as he prepared himself to confess to something. “Honestly for a little while, I was worried that the killer was gonna be you.”

Ribyna promptly cocked a brow. “You fucking donkey, why would I go around killing outlanders? I am an outlander!”

“I was just freaking out!” Fahjoth protested. “I was tired, and nervous, and you’d been acting proper shifty, and— well, I obviously wasn’t that far off, was I? Might not’ve been outlanders, but you were planning on killing people after all!”

Ribyna rolled her eyes, busying herself with removing her own armour. “Yeah yeah, alright, you’ve already said your piece. Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m absolutely wrecked.”

Though he still had plenty more to say on the matter, Fahjoth agreed, for both their sakes. He was looking forward to crashing just as much as Ribyna was, and once they had finished helping each other tend to their injuries and settled down for the night, Fahjoth was asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillows.

—————————————————————————————

tag list @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfic #TES III: Morrowind

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risrielthron · 5 years ago

Text

Who We Were

This took a good long while because there was a retcon in November of 2015 that kinda forced Risri into hiatus. When I brought her back for the paper in 2016, some details changed but still this was an eye-opening exercise of how I’ve grown as both an RPer and a writer. Anything that does not have brackets is the same.

Take a trip down memory lane, pull up the oldest ‘about’ post you can find for your character, and annotate what has changed and what has stayed the same in {Curly brackets}.

(I borrowed this from @alyssa-ward because what a cool exercise)

Originally posted October 4, 2015

Character’s full name: Risri Elthron Reason or meaning of name: combination of Mother's best friend's name (still alive) and her mother's sister who died - Rislana (best friend) and Kiari (sister). The Elthron family have mostly played a back seat in the history of the Kaldorei. {Both of these origins have kind of changed. Risri’s name became a place that her parents named her after, something that was important to her father’s family in an RP with her aunt. The last name Elthron was chosen by Risri during her exile her original family name is Kal’serrar.} Character’s nickname: Ris Reason for nickname: just a short form of Risri

Physical appearance

Age: 403 {she has aged 1 rl year each year since 2015 she is currently 408 years old} How old does he/she appear: to a human about 20ish {I actually think now she probably seems a little older to people) Weight: We don't ask ladies this! Though she looks healthy and toned. {I figure she’s whatever the average weight is for female elves} Height: Average for a Kaldorei {This has changed a bit. I have her just a tad shorter than Dragaur in human form so she’s 6’2” which apparently is short for an elf} Body build: She's not a body builder but her activities keep her in shape. Shape of face: Typical Kaldorei {She did not have a face claim at the time nor did she have art. Her face looks like this art the most.}

Eye color: White {I list it as silver now} Glasses or contacts: none Skin tone: light purplish Distinguishing marks: Claw tattoo (gained during her Druid initiation ceremony) Hair color: Purple Type of hair: Long Hairstyle: up in a ponytail or straight down her back {when I first made Risri I had her in the pigtail hair style. I quickly didnt like how it looks and changed it to the long style she sports now. It has not changed since} Voice: typically soft {I imagine her voice and accent a bit like Gal Gadot’s natural voice} Overall attractiveness: again not really caught up in her appearance so someone may need to tell her and even then she will more than likely blush and stammer a thank you. {This has changed so so much from when I first created her. She knows she is lovely and she will probably think you want something from her if you flatter her appearance.} Physical disabilities: none Usual fashion of dress: For events: dresses...she has discovered she likes pretty pretty dresses. For class: simple black pants and a simple shirt {So this too has changed from when I first created her. She aims for comfort and style. She most often will be found in one of these} Favorite outfit: Dresses, she found a lovely gold and white dress that has become her favorite {I dont even know what dress this was but Im sure it was something from my early days on wra-I would say her favorite outfit is probably one of the ones above} Jewelry or accessories: She wears a button on a string around her neck. She fondles it every so often. {The button on a string has actually moved to her bag, she now sports a ruby necklace from Dragaur, her bracelet with several charms on it, and always has her camera}

Personality

Alignment: Good {I think I would classify Risri now as more neutral these days} Good personality traits: Loves animals, children, books, meeting new people (even though she can be shy, she enjoys it), giving, loyal {This is all true except for the shyness, I don’t actually rp Risri as shy. She may be standoffish but thats cause IRL I am shy but Risri most definitely has no fear of talking to people} Bad personality traits: shyness can sometimes stop her from joining in, when she is caught up in research she may ignore others not to be hurtful she just gets caught up {I think this one goes with the other, as for bad traits today, I usually say she can be stuck in her ways at times and can be over protective} Mood character is most often in: happy {I would say this is still true but she’s had her share of pain} Sense of humor: silly things make her laugh {Not so much silly things but she definitely has a more snarky is funny sense of humor} Character’s greatest joy in life: running in the forest as a cat {Taking pictures and being a druid are equal} Character’s greatest fear: the death of her mother {This has actually come out in RP as a fear of mind control. She would fear the death of her mother but mind control tops it.} Why? Her mother and her are very close (unusual for Kaldorei, as they grow up communally typically), travelling with her mother in her formative years they relied upon each other What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Ris would be devastated if something happened to her mother {I think the death of Latilda, and then when she thought Dragaur was dead, and subsequently the death of Suzi in the office are three of the most profound things that made Risri change some. Her fel contamination would come a close fourth Currently, if something was to really happen to Dragaur, Sky, or Selise it would mess up Risri for a while} Character is most at ease when: Researching {Funnily enough this might still be true, but I would say taking pictures is probably more} Most ill at ease when: at war {This is true, but as she found out both at Darkshore and recently when there are forsaken involved she has no hesitation in killing.} Enraged when: witnessing senseless destruction of sacred places or artifacts {I completely forgot that I chose that, but I would say it has not changed. She also does not stand for people she cares about being hurt, this one is tricky though and I often have to tame it down because of interactions with others.} Depressed or sad when: she is a pretty positive individual, depression and sadness are fleeting if they happen at all. {This has matured over time. She gets very introspective at times and definitely will seek alone time when she is sad.} Priorities: Learn about as many cultures as she can, current focus is Treants. {So long ago… Her priorities currently are her studio, Dragaur, and helping the Kaldorei still homeless.} Life philosophy: Learn, Learn, Learn then share it all! {This was definitely written back in my Stormwind University days. Her philosophy “Be kind. It’s worthwhile to make an effort to learn about other people and figure out what you might have in common with them.”} Character’s soft spot: her Sprite Darter "Flutter" {Also a certain worgen} Is this soft spot obvious to others? Sometimes {while I dont play it up too much she is very attached to Flutter. As for the worgen, yes when they are together it is clear she has a soft spot for the gruff one} Greatest strength: Passion for learning {This is probably still true but I would say she also is a pretty good photographer and a loyal friend.} Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Naivety of how the world really works even though she has travelled the two main continents extensively she has been sheltered by her mother. {This was one of the things I retconned out of her when I brought her back for the paper. Risri may be unknowing of some human interactions but she is far from naive in most cases.} Biggest regret: That one time at band camp...seriously she is young so right now she doesn't have one but this may play into her development and story later. {HUGE change here... in fleshing her out in RP the biggest regret is and always will be the incident that forced her out of the Sentinels but not the results because it let her become a druid so its a double edged regret} Minor regret: she forgot to tell her mom about the time she ...oh that might not be appropriate for here {Again a change that came about from RP, that she threatened Dragaur with turning him in. She would never do that and she said it in a moment of frustration with him during a fight. It hurt them both too much.} Biggest accomplishment: coming soon {Running the paper. Opening her studio. either} Minor accomplishment: joining the University! {so many things, her writings, some of her photographs, saving people at Teldrassil, helping the Kaldorei in Stormwind.} Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: she was almost not able to become a druid...story for another time {This also changed with the retcon, but I would say the time she spent before coming to Stormwind would be something she would not want others to know about and will probably not talk about to anyone.} Why? She loves being a druid so not being one… {I have thoughts about what she was doing but its not fleshed out. Maybe someday and I can revisit this.} Character’s darkest secret: She is a pretty open book. Maybe later she will have a "dark" secret. {So this dark secret is the fact that she killed 10 Sentinels. That also came with the revamp.} Does anyone else know? {Several people.}

Goals

Drives and motivations: Curiosity unusual for a Kaldorei and need to have answers to questions { I would say this is somewhat still there and aided her when she was a reporter, but her drives and motivations are deeper now and the result of RP. She wants to make amends and sees her work with the Kaldorei refugees as part of that.} Immediate goals: Make friends with the treant she met at the Grove of Ancients {Keep her business running, aid the Kaldorei} Long term goals: Become an expert in as many cultures as she can {Live} How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Locate writings and interviewing others, spending time with treants ((her contact will be sending her around Azeroth and Draenor to meet with others)) {So her plan for her immediate goals are tied together. She takes a good portion of her profits from the studio and the two books she’s published to fund her relief efforts} How other characters will be affected: may be pestered for any little detail they have about treants {Most of the people she interacts with in RP would not be impacted.}

Past

Hometown: Darnassus {God I was such a noob. Feralas is her home.} Type of childhood: travelled both continents with her mother {so noob. She spent her youth in Feralas, Ashenvale, and Darkshore.} Pets: Sprite Darter named Flutter and a curious little white kitten {I retconned the kitten. Its only Flutter} First memory: Leaves above her (could be why she is fascinated with the treants...) {I think I’ll leave this one.} Most important childhood memory: Her and her mother on a ship talking into the night {This can stay too} Why? The closeness she felt to her mother {Because of this reason}

Present

Current location: Elwynn Forest, Jazimina Amberstill's "Ranch" {Stormwind City, either Dragaur’s apartment or her studio} Currently living with: Jazimina Amberstill and Ritti {Dragaur} Pets: Sprite Darter "Flutter" Religion: Follower of Elune {no change, add wild gods} Occupation: Researcher {Photographer} Finances: moderate {no change though she has more wealth than she lets on}

Family

Mother: Kahrysta Elthron {Oh wow I totally changed her mother’s name.. Its Alistra Kal’serrar } Relationship with her: good {excellent} Father: Brezlin Elthron Relationship with him: vague memories, he died when she was still a child Siblings: none Relationship with them: Spouse: none Relationship with him/her: Children: none {though she briefly adopted Ritti before they found the gnome’s family} Relationship with them: Other important family members: Mother's best friend Rislana is like an aunt {her aunt Tara, cousins, and another aunt I dont have a name for.}

Favorites

Color: Green and Purple {blues could be added} Least favorite color: Orange {sorry Drag, but I dont think its true anymore} Music: any Food: Chocolate Cookies {See answer here} Literature: Any Form of entertainment: stories {plays, dances could be added} Expressions: "Indeed!" {Its not often I get to use it but I do like it} Mode of transportation: Winterspring Frostsaber, given to her by her mother when she hit adulthood (about 50 years ago) or flight form {Flight form. The frostsaber went away in the retcon} Most prized possession: her journal {Camera}

Habits

Hobbies: Dabbles in alchemy {more than dabbles now} Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport: no How he/she would spend a rainy day: reading a book, any book {taking pictures} Spending habits: thrifty {for herself this is probably true, for others she can be extravagant} Smokes: no Drinks: not normally {no change, but she will drink} Other drugs: no What does he/she do too much of? Read {Take pictures} What does he/she do too little of? Socialize just for fun {This is probably more true now since giving up the paper} Extremely skilled at: Keeping a team alive when faced with challenges when exploring {Photography, writing could be added} Extremely unskilled at: a lot of things but she does hate cooking {LIES...I retconned this. She loves to cook. I don’t know...but I am sure there is something. It would probably be something she doesn’t do and has no desire to do.} Nervous tics: not sure someone may need to point that out to her {She plays with the bracelet on her wrist when she’s nervous. } Usual body posture: relaxed and happy Mannerisms: polite {extremely so} Peculiarities: … {hmm, I am sure there are some that have manifested over the five years I’ve been RPing her. Perhaps how she will always address a human as their full name unless she has been asked not to and will still use Ms. Mrs. Miss. Mr. with that name unless she feels close to you.}

Traits

Optimist or pessimist: Optimist Introvert or extrovert: Introvert until she gets to know you then she might not be quiet {I would say shes more mixed now.} Daredevil or cautious?: A little of both Logical or emotional: Emotional {probably more mixed now though she can be emotional she just normally doesn’t let it show unless she is very comfortable with you} Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat: somewhere in between, depends on how wrapped up she is in her research but she does have a habit of cleaning up if there is a mess { I would say she is very neat. Sky drives her crazy.} Prefers working or relaxing: working {definitely would say this is still true} Confident or unsure of himself/herself: unsure internally, others probably see her as confident {a little of this still lingers but unless you are close to her you wont see it} Animal lover: indeed

Self-Perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: an introvert who is more bookish than social {This is still kinda true.} One word the character would use to describe self: shy {Quiet} One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: A passionate learner and studier of peoples, loves animals, enjoys outdoors, and exploring is exciting. {A memory keeper, lover of animals and the outdoors, her passion for photography as a way to preserve memories is high.} What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? her passion for learning {her compassion for others} What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? her shyness ((its all in her head too, she really can be quite un-shy when meeting new races or investigating something though in social entertainment type situations she is at a loss)) {so retconned, she would say her possessiveness when it comes to the people she cares about.} What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? She is unaware of her appearance most of the time {She likes her hair.} What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? She hates her feet...not really {I’ll keep this if only cause I dont know} How does the character think others perceive him/her: She sometimes thinks too much about this and sometimes it doesn't bother her at all {She is very conscious of being a Kaldorei business woman in a human society. She strives to show that her people are trustworthy and kind.} What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: her shyness {Since I retconned the shyness...I don’t know...Risri believes she can be a better person but its something that you work on each day.}

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: opportunity to learn {She is still curious about others and likes people watching. She thinks most people are good at heart.} Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others: hmm, I think this will depend upon the relationship and situation {Oh most definitely, this was honed during her time as a reporter where she hid a lot of her thoughts about things.} Person character most hates: no one (yet) {Elyza Morrowbranch} Best friend(s): her mother / Jazi {Sky Stoneseat} Love interest(s): none (yet) {Dragaur} Person character goes to for advice: her mother / Dean Crowelley { Dragaur, Sky, Selise} Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Ritti {Dragaur, Sky } Person character feels shy or awkward around: cute boys...oh ok anyone in an entertainment social situation, when she is meeting others for what she calls "research" she emulates her mother's ambassador ways as much as possible {So such a noob. She really doesn’t except older Kaldorei...she worries what they know of her past.} Person character openly admires: her mother and Rislana Silverwind {Who is Rislana Silverwind omg I totally forgot this was a thing. Will have to think of someone else as Rislana is a Draenei now. As for who she admires? Her mother, Selise, Sky, Eilithe, Feyawen, Anegorn, and a few others.} Person character secretly admires: Dean Crowelley {I don’t think there is anyone she secretly admires, if she likes you, you know.} Most important person in character’s life before story starts: her mother After story starts: Ritti, Jazi, and the university faculty {Dragaur, Sky, Selise}

If you made it here thanks for looking at the changes of Risri over the course of the last five years. Its been a long, strange, crazy trip but I wouldn’t change much about it. If you want to do this, I encourage you to! And tag me cause I wanna read!

#risri

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annyaforger · 4 years ago

Note

No worries at all 💜💜 I just hope you had time to rest! So I'm super happy to see the kind of stuff you said about Xicheng - healing, fix-its etc are everything to me! And they both deserve so much! I'm excited to see your rec list but prob won't have much fic reading time for a bit so really no rush! Seclusion fics sound v intriguing - like, to me, Xicheng makes sense as a post-canon slow burn? Like they both need time before they can be vulnerable so seclusion makes sense! xoxo CC 💜💙 (1/5)

And omggg I checked my old ffn account. it’s entirely from like 2008-11 & only 5 pretty short fics. I just kind of wrote… whatever. Like, 1 about a game I barely remember, and also for some movie I’m fairly confident I just skipped through & never fully watched lol. Wild to think all that was that long ago! My sisters & I just did a random twilight marathon! I was never in the online fandom much though. tbh I was more engaged in the superwholock/glee stuff in high school lol! xoxo CC 💜💙 (2/5)

Hmm yeah I have a lot of thoughts about how art vs writing is treated online/in fan spaces but they are not super uh coherent lol But chibis and animated stuff is!! Amazing!! I seriously just put something on my to read list based only on a chibi-ish short animation, & animatics stuff is so fun! Idk I just have a real soft spot for small roundish cute things lol Idk to me, whether or not you share it, it’s still art! I just hope making it makes you happy! xoxo CC 💜💙 (3/5)

Fav character is v hard – I have a soft spot for lxc, but I also love songxiao + a-qing! I also love the sibling dynamics. I’m actually wrapping up a BB right now that I can’t really talk about yet, & have grown v attached to that pov character lol Tbh I think about them more as who’s easier to write? Like, songxiao, lxc, & the juniors come pretty easily to me, but wn, wwx, jgy & nhs are way way harder for w/e reason. No better way to figure them out than to write them though! xoxo CC 💜💙 (5/5)

god i only just got time to rest yesterday and today, sorry it took me forever to get to your CC my angel. FIRST NOTE OF BUSINESS THOUGH! MERRY CHRISTMAS! I HOPE U HAD A BEAUTIFUL LOVELY DAY FULL OF WARMTH HAPPINESS GOOD FOOD AND GOOD COMPANY! late as it may be, again sorry heh.

now on to the reply, ugh yes, those are all just such good tropes and paired up w xicheng *chefs kiss* no worries it might take me a while till im fully happy with it and the organization of it all ngl lmao but it’s coming! i do wanna let u know i just made an addition to it last night of a 9chapter fic klldjssd i hope you don’t mind i know you said long fics aren’t too much of ur fancy BUT ITS A GOOD ONE I PROMISE and yesss xicheng is def a post canon slow burn kind of pairing which a lot of the times it is ;) i love it tbh )):

that’s so nice though that you have the ability to go and look back at your old work, i do that too and cringe BUT i can see i have improved and come a long way I USED TO WRITE IN FIRST PERSON POV SKDJFS but lol my little sister and i had a twilight marathon during quarantine it was fun times all we did was shit talk the films lmao

superwholock fandom days seem like a fever dream to me lmfao

but wow ok u have a wide range i see that’s p cool, AHH good luck with ut BB! whenever its set to make its grand debut! much luck im sure its winderful cause sounds like uve worked really hard!!!

ONCE AGAIN MERRY CHRISTMAS LOVE!!! u were definitely a great gift this year u wonderful hooman bean!<3

#mdzsnetcc #mail.txt #anonymous

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epizkage · 6 years ago

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the first chapter of my good omens fic! its a uni au, the main ship is ineffable bureaucracy but there is also background ineffable husbands, hastur/ligur, and maybe future dagon/michael! i’ll be uploading this to ao3 tomorrow, as well as uploading a page of sketches for each chapter both on here and on my art insta. thank you for reading, im grateful for any feedback at all!! tagging as #ineffable neighbours on all platforms!! (here, ao3 and instagram!)

“Crowley, what the fuck?” Bee groaned, incredulous, as Crowley handed them another houseplant through the car window. They were sat in the passenger seat, knees near enough at their chest with how far forward the seat had been pushed, their lap and arms already full of plants which they may as well have been juggling in trying to make room for more.

“I have to bring all of them, Bee, they’ll be lonely if I don’t.” Crowley answered sincerely, handing them another, which Bee shoved rather frustratedly into one of the cupholders by the gear stick.

"Oh, don't worry about me-" Bee huffed sarcastically, taking the tray of mini cacti that Crowley handed them and sliding it onto the dashboard. "-I'll just be a fucking shelf, shall I? It's not like I wanted to say goodbye to our mothers or anything."

"Language, Bee!" Came their mum's joking voice, though from where Bee couldn't quite tell, their peripheral vision on both sides blocked by leaves and greenery.

"Yeah, Bee, language." Crowley mimicked petulantly, having the gall to try and hand them one last plant through the window only to be stopped by a string of very colourful curse words. Bee managed, after a lot of growling and swearing and heightening claustrophobia, to transplant the innumerable pots into the vacant driver's seat, swinging the car door open with enough vigour to nearly hit Crowley as they made their escape.

The tiny battered car was stuffed to the brim, back seats folded down to make room for two lots of possessions, Crowley and Bee's lives packed up into boxes and stacked in the world's most audacious game of Tetris, scraping the roof and blocking the back window entirely; sure to make Crowley's already terrible driving even worse.

"Arsehole." Bee scowled, stepping back from the car to join their parents on the pavement, all watching and doing nothing to help as Crowley attempted to strap a way-too-big suitcase to the roof.

"Don't call your brother an arsehole, dear." Their mama said jovially, nudging them in the side.

"He is a bit of one, though." Replied their mum - the other one - coming up to their other side. Bee smirked at the two of them, and busied themselves with rolling a cigarette.

"Oi!" Crowley called, turning to throw them all a faux-offended pout, ignoring the suitcase for just long enough for it to start sliding off the roof. At the sight of him frantically trying to stop it from either hitting the ground or smashing one of the car windows, Bee choked on a laugh and dropped the filter they'd been holding between their lips, figuring it was karma for laughing as Mama rushed to Crowley's aid.

"You could help, you know, dear sibling." Crowley yelled, way too loud for a quiet, late September morning, as he tightened the straps on the makeshift roof rack. The neighbours, inevitably, would talk amongst themselves - middle class businessmen asking "oh, aren't you glad that those bastard kids are finally going back to uni?" over a neat and orderly breakfast, wives responding "I never did understand them anyway, Karen mentioned Satanic witchcraft, but really I think they're just hippies." Maybe they'd even pop round with fake neighbourly intent, presenting the couple with a rehearsed spiel of "my Sophie left for uni again a few weeks ago, you don't appreciate the alone time until they come back!" and a horrid fake laugh when really all they were trying to do was nosey around and determine whether their neighbours were lesbians or just really good friends.

Really good friends, who shared a surname, raised children together, and held a garden party last year to renew their vows.

Bee ignored him and sparked up their cigarette. Both mothers shared a glance and rolled their eyes, and Crowley rounded the car to lean against it.

"Is that everything?"

Bee nodded through an exhale of smoke, and suddenly their parents had zoned in on them, Crowley being dragged into their huddle while Bee was made to extinguish their cigarette.

"Oh, we'll miss you, horrible children." Their mum laughed, pulling both Bee and Crowley into a tight hug and kissing them both, Bee on the crown of their head and Crowley on the cheek, before passing them off for Mama to do the same.

"We'll miss you both too." Crowley replied, his smile showing clearly all of the anxiety he was trying to keep hidden.

"Don't worry, kiddo-" Bee slapped him on the back as they spoke, a rare moment of genuine and open kindness flashing between them and making their mothers smile from ear to ear. "-Everyone's nice, you know that."

It was Crowley’s first year while Bee was going into their second, and Crowley was to move in with Bee and their friends that they’d met last year. Crowley had met them all before, too, even considering them friends of his own after spending a lot of time at Bee’s flat, though nothing could help keep the anxiety at bay.

Truth be told, the poor kid looked like he might cry, and so with a sigh Bee decided to take control.

“Come on, we gotta go, I’ve got all the keys and I don’t want Hastur or Dagon tearing into me for making them wait.”

Crowley looked understandably dejected, but nodded nonetheless, and with one last long family hug the two bundled into the car.

Bee got in first, bringing all of the plants back into their lap to make room for Crowley, who soon after slid into the driver’s seat, hands balled into fists on his thighs as he took a deep breath.

“It’ll be okay, kid.” Bee tried to be reassuring despite their voice sounding bored and their face being almost entirely blocked by plants, but Crowley smiled at them anyway.

“I know, it’ll just be weird to be so far away.”

Bee nodded with a hum, both of them waving goodbye to their mothers, before they set off for their new house-

-which was fifteen minutes away, in the city. ~

Crowley and Bee had managed to unpack the car and near enough move everything in before the first of their housemates even showed up, perfectly chaotic and exactly at the wrong time, as Crowley battled to fit the giant suitcase through the front door while Bee laid on the sofa and did nothing to help.

Her arrival was made known by three things: the sound of Britney Spears’ ‘Womanizer’ muffled through car windows and getting ominously closer until coming to a head as she pulled up, a crash as the aforementioned car hit the lamp post outside the house, and then a loud, blunt exclamation of “fuck.”

“Ah, Dagon’s here.”

She ran out of the car, leaving the engine on, door open and music still blasting, and gave Crowley a hard clap on the shoulder as she pushed past him and threw herself into Bee’s lap, only to be promptly deposited onto the floor.

“Aren’t you guys buzzed?” She grinned, red hair messy and falling into her face, partially covered by a black baseball cap that said “women want me, fish fear me” on the front.

“I was until you got here.” Bee fired back playfully, snatching the hat from Dagon’s head and shoving it on their own. It was way too big and the peak fell down over their eyes every time they moved, and they readjusted the size, quite intent on wearing it for the rest of the night, as they got up to help Dagon unpack her car.

Dagon had brought with her far too much of what she didn’t need and far too little of what she did; half of her car being taken up by a giant fish tank (“I’m going back home tomorrow to get them, I hope they don’t miss me too much.”) while the tiny suitcase on her passenger seat apparently held all of her clothes for the year. The music, still Britney Spears, was only turned off once Dagon had unloaded the car completely (as Bee and Crowley had discovered, she had created a playlist of every single Britney Spears song on Spotify), by which point many of the neighbours had already given them some rather distasteful looks from behind their net curtains.

With the playlist blaring again, now through a speaker upon Dagon’s insistence, the three of them had split up to investigate the house. The outside was irregular and dirty-white, made complete by a wooden door with chipped black paint and a half shiny, half rusted number six nailed to the wall. The inside was no better, old carpets and ragged papering complimenting holes in the plaster and rusty radiator pipes.

None of them had even bothered to look around the place before signing the contracts - an offer of cheap rent and ‘satisfactory’ facilities more than enough to sway them.

Bee had taken to the garden, itching for nicotine, and they extracted a cigarette from behind their ear, scattering loose tobacco through their mess of black hair and making no effort to even acknowledge it, let alone remove it.

The garden was small, narrow and void of greenery completely, except from a pitiful looking tree that looked more like a long twig that had been plunged into a patch of gravel than anything that had ever been remotely alive. The ground was plain concrete, mossy and damp and unappealing in every sense, resembling an alleyway more so than a garden. Bee thought it crunched nicely beneath their thick-soled boots as they walked, and that was enough for them.

They hopped up onto the shoddy brick wall that ran the length of the garden fence, almost barreling straight into the tree-that-once-was, and once they’d found their footing they paused to light their cigarette.

Crowley would be sure to try and bring the thing back to life, of that they were certain.

Eyeing the fence, Bee was sure that it would fall down before the year was up, what with the rot and knot-marks and holes between the panels; and they suppressed a laugh at the death-rattle it gave when they kicked it. They spared a glance over into their neighbour’s garden, and then their nosiness overcame them and they draped their arms over the fence entirely, wrinkling their nose a little at how nice next door seemed in comparison.

It was a wide, open space and the tiles on the ground looked brand new and almost shone under the early afternoon sun. Bee didn’t feel in the least bit bad about dropping cigarette ash all over them. In the middle was a patch of neat green grass, in the far corner a russet-painted shed, and the entire back fence was painted with a sunset-inspired mural.

Inside the house Bee saw a lone girl, busy packing things away into the wall units in the kitchen. Bee found themselves very intrigued, her deep brown skin flawless and shining with a rich gold highlighter that caught the sun every time she moved, and she wore a loose, ruffled white shirt that flowed with her movements and made her look like an angel.

For someone so seemingly put-together, she’d sure picked a rough neighbourhood to live in.

Bee stopped staring, then, and as they turned to duck down behind the fence to finish their cigarette they met eyes with Crowley, making his way out of the back door to join them.

“Dagon’s setting up her tank," He waved vaguely behind him as he spoke, up on his tiptoes to peer eagerly over the fence.

"What's next door like?"

"Nice." Bee replied genuinely with a nod, waiting for Crowley's hum of approval before continuing. "When's your boy moving in?"

Crowley choked, and Bee snickered when his face flushed almost as red as his hair.

He had started dating a boy named Aziraphale, though Crowley would only ever call him Ezra, Zira, or Angel, over the summer, having met online and hit it off in a fresher's group chat for their university.

"Weird name." Bee had commented, and then had immediately taken it back upon remembering that their legal name had very nearly been Beelzebub.

The two had met up a few times, and soon become an official item. Bee could still vividly remember the absolute joy on Crowley's face when he'd found out that, arguably through some sort of divine intervention, Zira would be living just next door when term time started.

Who else he was living with, however, Bee and Crowley hadn't the faintest. All Zira had said was that there were four of them, two second years and two first years, and all of them had met through family friends, university societies and extra curricular youth groups. Nerds.

"Uh, h-he-" Crowley cleared his throat, removing his sunglasses as if it'd help him think better, brown eyes so light they almost shone yellow darting this way and that but never meeting Bee's own. "-He should be here tomorrow, or the day after."

Bee smirked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"You'll have to introduce us.”

Crowley very quickly brushed it off with an awkward nod.

“What do you think the rest of ‘em will be like?”

Bee finished their cigarette and stubbed out the end on the wall, little ashy embers flying back at them as they flicked the filter in the general direction of the drain by the back door.

‘Get something to put your dock ends in-’ Bee reminded themselves as they followed Crowley back through to the living room. ‘-Asshole. Think of the planet.’

“Insufferable, probably.” Bee shrugged, leaning back against the sofa and crossing one leg over their knee, their foot beginning to twitch and shake out of habit. They decided not to mention the girl they’d seen in the kitchen, knowing full well that Crowley would mislay the information to Dagon, who in turn would mislay it to Hastur, over-exaggerated and not at all true stories of Bee and the mystery girl somehow being an item forming from nothing more than boredom and a need for drama.

“Yeah, probably.” Crowley’s reply was half-hearted, paying no real attention as he instead stared down at his phone.

“Zira likes them, though, so I’m sure they’re nice enough.”

Bee made no effort to reply, but if they had, it would’ve been cut off. First by a crash, followed immediately by the second customary exclamation of “fuck” of the day.

It was beginning to feel like home already.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #ineffable neighbours #my writing

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mianix · 6 years ago

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Gift Fic for FoxHughesArt ~ “PDA at the DPD”

My very good friend FoxHughesArt just posted their first Reed900 artwork and was kind enough, since they knew Reed900 is my fandom love, to share the WIP with me before they posted the final piece. I was so inspired, I had to write something for them and this is it.

Alex ~ thank you so much for chatting with me over the last couple of months. For letting me chatter on when I’m sad and letting me do the same for you. Your art is lovely and inspiring ~ Just like you. 💙

“PDA at the DPD”

As they walked into the DCPD, Nines felt anticipation.

Gavin had once told him this particular part of his day was better than his morning coffee. They would get up, feed the cat and carry about getting ready for work as any working partners might do if they found themselves staying over with one another. But the moment they found a vacant elevator, there was electricity in the air between them.

Gavin liked a bit of pretense and Nines indulged him in this, because it seemed to end in benefit for them both.

“Fuckin’ thing follows me everywhere.” Gavin said annoyedly to the officer who checked them through the security gate. Nines remained silent, watching, as usual. Gavin turned to him. “What are you looking at RoboPrick?”

“A middle aged man with a smoking addiction, foul mouth and a receding hairline.” Nines replied simply. He saw Gavin blush, his eyes narrow and Nines felt a small twinge of victory at catching the Detective off guard. He enjoyed teasing him and found Gavin liked to be teased in more ways than just verbally. Nines opted to walk through the terminal, ignoring Gavin as he did and it had the calculated effect. He could feel Gavin’s eyes on him as they came to the elevator doors and he felt static run through his skin.

Nines stepped inside and felt Gavin’s eyes watching him still as he turned and casually pressed the button that would take them to the homicide department. The Detective’s heart rate was elevated and that made his bio components hum sweetly. The moments ticked by as the doors slowly shut and the moment they did the two found themselves tangled in one another.

Gavin pushed Nines against the wall, kissing him deeply with a measured grin on his face. Nines let him lead, because it seemed to please him so early in the morning, but he also knew once they were done for the day it would be Gavin submitting to him.

And they loved their routine… Oh yes.

“Did you really mean that shit about my hair?” Gavin asked in between deep, messy kisses. He was grinning though, good humored about the jab at his ego.

“Only about 84 percent.” Nines replied and Gavin pulled back to narrow his eyes at him. Nines only leaned in and whispered against his swollen lips “Any hair loss can probably be attributed to me, Detective.” Nines continued as he wound his fingers into Gavin’s hair and pulled back, getting a startled gasp, then grin from him as he leaned down and kissed him slowly and calculating.

“Keep that shit up an we’ll be-” Gavin began, but was cut off as the elevator stopped prematurely.

Without warning, the elevator doors opened and they were able to right themselves before an interloper from another floor stopped their progress. Nines was able to easily compose himself, but Gavin looked so flustered the officer who entered had given him an odd look.

“What the fuck you looking at?” Gavin had barked, face reddening further. The man turned away and the three stood awkwardly as the elevator ascended again.

Nines cast his eyes sideways and saw Gavin’s hand mere inches from his own. A new idea formed and he reached out to take hold of it, only for Gavin to snatch it away. Nines raised an eyebrow at him and noted Gavin looked annoyed, shaking his head at him, then indicating the officer in front of him.

Gavin waited till the officer exited to his floor and the elevator began its ascension before turning to Nines.

“Don’t do shit like that in front of people.”

“I’m not allowed to hold your hand or I’m just not allowed to do it in front of co-workers now?” Nines asked and felt annoyed either way.

“We work here. It’s unprofessional.” Gavin mumbled, face still red from the make out session they had just had. Nines narrowed his eyes at him.

“You didn’t seem to share this same opinion a moment ago when you were letting me sample the coffee from the back of your tongue.” Nines replied and felt a small victory at the vivid blush that overcame the Detective’s face at these words.

“That’s different. No one can see us in here.”

At this, Nines stared at him pointedly, but Gavin was avoiding his eyes now.

A part of Nines knew, of course, that this shouldn’t be bothering him near as much as it actually was. This was their workplace, after all and public displays of affection weren’t exactly encouraged. But a simple hand hold behind a person’s back who wouldn’t even notice?

He thought often about moments like this one where he was denied simply because it proved inconvenient for the Detective. No matter his own personal wants. He’d caved in pursuit of a happy medium, because he knew that Gavin wouldn’t. He never did. Nines was tired of it.

Gavin must’ve noticed the shift in mood, because he leaned forward and put his hand to Nines’ face to draw him back to him. Nines only stared, unaffected when Gavin leaned in and tried to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, Detective. But as a place of business, such actions would be highly inappropriate.” Nines said evenly, almost robotically.

“Are you serious?” Gavin asked as he pulled back a ways. But the answer was plain as day on Nines face. “Whatever.”

Gavin turned and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as they made their way to their floor. Once the doors opened he didn’t even wait for Nines as he stepped out. Nines figured Gavin might throw a tantrum about this, as he usually did when he didn’t get his way, but there was no way he was going to be the one to cave this time. In fact, as he saw Connor walking over to him, he decided that there was a much better alternative at hand.

“Everything okay, Nines?” Connor asked, side glancing Gavin who walked by him without a word.

“Of course. Do you have a minute? I’d like to go over a case with you before I get started on my own daily briefing.”

“Sure thing.” Connor replied, but Nines knew that Connor was onto him. This was a Gavin code between them, meaning he needed to discuss the Detective or needed help with something regarding him. They would huddle at Connor’s desk, pouring over some random file, but would converse inside their heads. If Gavin suspected as much he never said. Only Hank seemed to catch on.

“You guys working on a GV200 error?” Hank asked with a smirk as he sat back in his chair.

“GV600 actually.” Connor replied with a grin.

“Shit. That bad huh? I don’t want to know how high up that number can go.” Hank said as he turned to look at Gavin. He was working at his terminal, but he was obviously stewing over their conversation.

[RK800]: You do realize he might be very angry at you about this later?

[RK900]: He’s much more fun when he’s riled up.

[RK800]: Be sensible. You could just try discussing this like adults.

At this, Nines leaned back in his chair and looked towards Gavin.

“Excuse me, Detective. Could I speak with you for a moment?” Nines called across the bullpen. Gavin didn’t reply, only put up his middle finger at them. “It’s very important.” Nines continued and Gavin set down his coffee so his other hand was free to flip him off with both hands. Nines turned to Connor, knowing he proved his point.

[RK800]: Plan B then?

[RK900]: Plan B it is.

Nines knew the Detective well enough and despite his hard persona, he was weak for specific things and Nines was one of them. He also knew that Gavin didn’t believe anything that he could not emotionally feel. If he wanted him to be the first to cave, then he’d need to remind him of what he was missing. A plan began to formulate and, despite the very real chance Gavin would be even angrier at him, the other possibilities of what could come of this were so enticing that Nines could not consider any other alternative.

After conversing a bit with Connor, Nines moved to his designated seat and began his morning briefing via terminal. No sense in slacking off work. He felt Gavin watching him, trying to capture his attention, but opted to ignore him. After a time, paperwork was dropped off on his desk and he took the opportunity to finally address the Detective.

“May I borrow a pencil, Gavin?” Nines asked as he looked up to find Gavin tapping away furiously at his phone. The man’s eyes moved from the screen to his and narrowed, but he opted not to answer him. Although cute, Gavin could never play this game quite as well as Nines did. “Too bad, I guess you’ll have to finish this paperwork entirely on your own.”

“You have arms, don’t you? Get it yourself asshole. I’m busy.” Gavin grumbled as he let his eyes go back to his phone.

Nines could’ve simply reached across his desk, over to Gavin’s, and plucked a pencil out of its holder. It was within his reach, but an idea was forming, so Nines instead stood and walked around the desk to stand behind Gavin. He leaned down, reaching his arm out over the Detective’s shoulder as the side of his face lightly touched the helix piercing on the back of his ear.

He felt the Detective tense, as he knew Gavin would, considering he often reacted to Nines playing with this piercing under both leisure and intimate circumstances. If Gavin wanted to object he could have, but he sat still.

“I think…,” Nines stated in a low voice right next to Gavin’s ear. “Hmmm…,” He continued, letting the rumble of his voice vibrate through the delicate metal piece as he prolonged this torture. He idly picked up one pencil after another as if it was a very important decision. “This one looks…sturdy.”

Gavin’s vitals had elevated and Nines smirked to himself when he turned ever so slightly to see Gavin’s face bright red. The hands holding the phone were gripping it tightly and his jaw was clenched. He was trying so hard to keep his eyes forward. Time to get his attention.

Through precalculation, Nines knew the right angle to let go of the pencil as he pulled it back so that it would land, almost perfectly, between the Detective’s thighs on the chair. As calculated, it did just that and Nines began to reach down to grab it when his hand was stopped by Gavin just as his fingertips feathered over the seam of his jeans.

“I’ll fucking get it, asshole.” Gavin said, but his voice was higher than normal and that only pleased Nines more.

“Are you sure, Detective. I have arms after all. Don’t I?” Nines said, mimicking Gavin’s own words. Gavin lifted the pencil up quickly and Nines barely hid his own amusement as he took it from him. “Thank you, Gavin.” He whispered as he pulled back, letting the side of his cheek run along the side of Gavin’s as he did so.

When he made it back to his desk, the look on Gavin’s face gave him great pleasure. A beautiful shade of red, as well as his ears. The same shade he saw often when Gavin was overwhelmed by him physically and emotionally. Gavin’s eyes met his and he stood up, walking off in the direction of the bathrooms.

To think, it was still only early morning and he had hours of ideas planned for Gavin. He only hoped he wouldn’t cave too quickly, as Nines shivered at the thought of prolonging this sense of control for as long as he could.

Gavin Reed was going down.

Gavin splashed cold water over his face, dipping his hand back down to the faucet and filling again to repeat the action until his face settled into its natural tone. Phckin androids…

All this because he didn’t want to hold Nines’ hand? When had his partner become so damn particular about this stuff? It was one of the things he liked about Nines, his no nonsense, no strings attached approach to everything. So why now was he being so pushy about this PDA shit?

Gavin looked at himself in the mirror and his mind drifted to a few moments ago. There was a lingering scent on him from Nines, which Gavin didn’t think androids could have smells, but Nines did. The more he thought on it, it was a mixture of elements from his apartment. So, to Gavin, Nines smelled like home. When he realized what his own thought just was he felt his face redden again with embarrassment. Nines smelled like home? Get a grip Gavin, phck…

He knew, of course, what Nines was doing and he decided he wasn’t going to fall for it. If Nines could avoid and ignore him, then so too could Gavin. He wouldn’t give him the pleasure of flustering Gavin again. He psyched himself up in the mirror, took a couple of deep breaths before he walked out of the bathroom.

He expected to see Nines sitting at their desks, but he was once again huddled with Connor over at his desk. Gavin watched them with a frown. Did he talk to Connor about what happened in the elevator? The two were close as brothers and Nines had told him plenty of times when he couldn’t seem to adjust to some social interactions it was Connor he relied on.

“What about me? I can teach you lots of stuff about social interactions.” Gavin had said at the time, slightly hurt Nines wouldn’t come to him. Nines though lifted a brow at him.

“Forgive me Gavin, but the only social interactions I feel I can learn from you are the kind of things I’ll save for people I don’t wish to interact with. If I need schooling on the proper ways to flip off people, I assure that you’ll be the first one I seek out.” Nines had said in reply, but Gavin had found that funny and only laughed.

That was another thing Gavin liked about Nines. His blunt wit was attractive as all hell and Gavin didn’t mind taking a few blows to his ego. He couldn’t even be mad at him and usually if he was it wasn’t for very long.

The one saving grace, as Gavin saw it, is that this lover’s spat would likely be forgotten by the time they went home tonight. Here they were partners, but at home, they were whatever the fuck they wanted to be and Gavin loved that. He didn’t have to be mean Detective Reed and Nines could stop being so damned uptight and instead come unbound and undone.

At this thought his face reignited. His mind was flooded with Nines face, flushed blue, mouth parted…

“Phck.” Gavin breathed as he grabbed his coffee cup and went to refill it. If he wasn’t careful he might have to make a run for the men’s room, but this time for a completely different reason. He opted to ignore Nines unless absolutely necessary for the job. Then, when the day was done and they headed home he’d be generous and let Nines apologize to him for being a dick. Maybe draw it out for a little bit of extra attention in the bedroom…

Ego restored, Gavin walked confidently to his desk and grudgingly started doing paperwork, making sure to keep his eyes off of Nines.

The day passed by slowly without Nines constant intervention in his work day. He went to lunch with Tina instead, but opted not to mention their spat. As much as he loved Tina, she tended to side sometimes with Nines on specific things. So he let her talk about the newly deviated receptionist android she’d been going on about for a month. It was kinda cute to see her crushing so hard and he did his due diligence to encourage her to finally just ask her on a date. There was not much else he could do.

Afternoon came and went and Nines continued to remain by Connor’s side, pouring over documents and reviewing evidence down in the evidence room. Every time Nines walked by him he ignored him, hoping he might glance his way, but his attention was completely on Connor and Gavin felt himself sulking every time Nines refused to look at him.

Finally, Gavin had enough when his watch showed 7:47pm and Nines made no move to leave. So he stood and stretched, figuring he’d venture down into the evidence room himself on the pretense of a case he was working on to see what the hell they were up to. As he began to walk though, they emerged and Connor called out to him.

“Detective Reed. It’s late, you should be heading home.” Connor said and at this Gavin’s eyes turned to look at Nines.

“What about you?” Gavin asked.

“Connor has asked me to remain for a time to go over additional evidence that was found for his current case. They’re bringing it down now, but it’s a ways out of Detroit, so head home without me and I will catch up with you once we’ve finished here.” Nines replied coolly.

Gavin just stared at him, trying so hard not to show his disappointment. In a moment of weakness he heard his voice announce his obvious insecurity.

“You’re coming home tonight, right?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Phck!

“I’m not yet sure, it all depends on the-”

“Whatever.” Gavin said quickly to mask his growing apprehension. He didn’t wait for a reply, just walked back to his desk and collected his bag. He thought he heard Connor call after him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get away.

He felt his eyes sting a bit, but managed to compose himself. Why the hell did that hurt so much? He realized that since he became Nines life partner that he’d never went home alone. He’d not fallen asleep without Nines beside him. So Nines so casually denying him this comfort hurt. Like he had lost something in the exchange of words.

Gavin’s drive home was in silence. He didn’t want to listen to the radio and coasted his way home in a haze. His mind wouldn’t stop overthinking everything. When he arrived home he was greeted warmly by his cat, Dick, who danced around his ankles for want of attention and food. Gavin obliged, soaking in the affection the cat offered as a substitute in Nines absence.

A few hours into a few bad movies and TV shows Gavin checked his phone. 11:23pm and still no word from Nines. Despite everything, he was worried. He opened his messenger and clicked the name “RoboPrick”.

[TrashHuman]: You coming home soon?

He smirked slightly at seeing his username permanently changed because Nines refused to tell him how to change it. To anyone else it would seem they hated each other, but in all honesty these were terms if endurement.

[RoboPrick]: At present we are analyzing over 230 various types of dirt to calculate which one was found on a boot at a crime scene. This particular sample has ground mica found in it, so we’re cross referencing drilling plants and other possible locations against this particular type.

[TrashHuman]: Is that a yes or a no ya prick?

[RoboPrick]: The task will likely take all night between the two of us, so no. I will meet you at the office in the morning.

[TrashHuman]: Whatever.

Gavin tossed his phone off to the side, feeling pissed but figuring there wasn’t much he could do about it now. Boy would he make Nines pay for this tomorrow. What if he called himself in sick and refused to open the door if Nines tried to come see him? Then he remembered the time he fought with Nines and the android had completely removed his door from the other side with a simple screwdriver, breaking his lock in the process…and later his bed frame.

Gavin blushed and resigned himself to going to bed and work tomorrow. He figured he wasn’t going to hear from Nines again, but then his phone went off again.

[RoboPrick]: <3

Gavin felt his face redden even further, that small emoji meaning more to him in that moment then the sender could possibly understand. He stood and padded his way into his bedroom, crawling into his bed and realizing he was missing something.

“Dick? Here kitty, kitty, kitty!” He called out in the usual way he addressed his feline friend. The cat was normally found following him around the apartment, but he noticed that the cat stood outside the door looking in at him. “Get in here asshole.”

Gavin tapped the empty side of the bed and the cat came to jump up. But instead it stood on its hind legs, front paws on the bed as it observed the empty side that typically held Nines. Dick looked at him, then meowed. Gavin realized that the cat often fell asleep ON Nines, or laying between them. The android could turn up his body temperature and the cat had fallen in love with this feature. Just like Gavin, who had relied on Nines being here for things to feel normal, Dick too seemed reluctant without him present.

Instead, the cat wandered the apartment yowling all night for the android that was nowhere to be found. Eventually, before sunrise, the cat jumped up beside Gavin and curled up in Nines’ vacant spot. Gavin, who often suffered from insomnia, pulled the cat close to provide him the warmth he was obviously missing. The cat purred in his arms and the vibration coming from the cat seemed enough to make him feel like Nines was there. So he finally slept.

Gavin coasted through his morning barely feeling it. His morning coffee was bland without whatever the hell it was Nines did to make it taste like liquid sex, his ride in just made him irritated because without his partner there to focus on he noticed how many stupid people were driving the streets of Detroit. It was so rainy out he was practically soaked as he ran into the building. Then, worst of all, he had to face the elevator all on his own. Gavin stood and looked at it for a while and when it opened its doors to him he felt cold. He turned, instead, and took the stairs.

Only when he reached the doors leading into the homicide department did he feel a little life returning to him. He would see Nines and maybe the android had forgiven him enough to stop with the games.

But it wasn’t the RK900 that greeted him as he entered, but Connor, wearing gray sweatpants and a DCPD hooded sweater.

“Good morning, Detective Reed.” Connor said jovially.

“What’s with the outfit?” Gavin asked, not use to seeing Connor in anything but his android issued uniform.

“Ahh, yes. Well, you see. Nines and I got up early this morning to scout some potential sites for the ground mica we found last night when it began to downpour. Our clothing was completely soaked through before we realized it. So I’m wearing this today.” Connor replied, a slight blush on his face.

“Don’t you two even know when to come in out of the rain?” Gavin asked, rolling his eyes. Cyberlife could’ve at least equipped them with common sense. Oh well. “Where’s Nines?”

“Locker room.”

Gavin left Connor behind and stood just outside the locker room doors. He was trying to psych himself up to talk this out rationally with Nines. He wouldn’t give in, of course, but surely Nines felt how bad his night was without Gavin there? He felt his stomach sink at the thought of what if Nines felt no difference at all? What if he never even gave Gavin another thought after he’d left? This worked Gavin up alright, but it was not rational at all.

“Nines! Where the fuck are you? We need to talk.” Gavin called as he slammed the door open and stepped inside the locker room. It was, for the most part, vacant.

“Back here, Detective. One moment please.” Nines called out from the back of the room.

“No one minute please bullshit, we’re talking about this n-” Gavin began as he stomped his way back to where he knew Nines would be, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight that awaited him.

Nines stood, tall and lean, in nothing but a towel. His skin was still wet, gleaming under the harsh lighting from above and as he turned to view Gavin his hair was a soft mess of curls with one fierce gray eye peeking out from beneath. This wasn’t work Nines, but leisure Nines.

Gavin swallowed hard as his eyes went to every inch he could memorize, because Nines was fucking beautiful like this. His hair curled when he didn’t set it back with gel and Gavin’s heart swelled to see him so off guard. Especially after the terrible night he’d had.

“I can’t sleep.” He had told Nines when they first got together, confiding in him about his issues with insomnia. Nines had lain down with him and recited his favorite books from memory so Gavin could fall asleep, cheek pressed to his chest as the drone of his biocomponents and the hum of his voice emanating from there soothed him. He’d not had another sleepless night, not since last night.

Other times he’d run his hands through Nines hair, messing it up so it could curl over his eye just as it was now. The way it would caress his face as Nines hovered over him and how warm it was against his lips as he gave in, gladly, to his demanding lover. Always a look of such tenderness behind those curls.

Gavin felt a rush of warmth, such affection that he was overwhelmed by it.

“Yes, Gavin?” Nines asked as he waited for whatever it was Gavin had originally meant to say. But for all his bravado, he couldn’t bring himself to argue with Nines about this. Because he fucking missed this and him, but he didn’t know how to just fucking tell him. So he turned, without a word and walked back out into the main area of the department.

As Gavin stepped into the bullpen he heard a clattering of noise coming from the very center and noticed Fowler trying to get everyone’s attention.

“Listen up everyone. Lieutenant Anderson has something he wants to say. Pipe down Philips!” Fowler said, pointing his death glare towards an officer who was still talking. “The floor is yours Hank.”

“Thanks, Jeffrey.” Hank replied, then cleared his throat when he realized all eyes were on him. “Today marks an important milestone for the DCPD. Not only has crime decreased in the last year, but solved cases are up. While I stand among you good men and women who work tirelessly for the city of Detroit and its people, I think we can all agree that this is due in large part to the tireless efforts of our android counterparts who work at our side willingly.” Hank said with a pause, before continuing. “One year ago, today, the first android prototype of his kind walked through the doors of Jimmy’s bar and found himself a royal pain in the ass.”

The room laughed and Gavin noticed that Connor, while smiling, was blushing a bit.

“I wasn’t pleasant, or even baseline decent. But he persisted. Not only did he stay by my side when chaos reigned, he stayed with us once he had the choice to leave. He was a major figure in the history books who could’ve gone on to do great things, but instead he chose to remain my partner and all of our friends. So I wanted to thank him and mark his one year anniversary so he remembers just how appreciated, needed and loved he really is here.”

Hank pulled up a small bag from under his desk and set it in front of Connor.

“Some of the guys pooled in to get you this.” Hank said, fondly watching the emotional roller coaster that was Connor’s face. At this, Gavin noticed Nines had joined him, watching curiously.

Connor looked around, obviously not use to such attention, but he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box. He opened it and his face immediately lit up.

“We got you a new coin, but this one is one of a kind. Just like you Con.” Hank said warmly. “Look at the inscription on the back.”

“Faithful friend. Great humanitarian. Lover of Dogs.” Connor read aloud and there were a few chuckles from around, but a few silent tears as well. Connor, among them. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I will cherish this.”

Connor stood and put his hand out for Hank to shake, a sign of respect, but Hank wasn’t having it. He took Connor’s hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. Connor accepted it and nearly lost his composure as his fingers grasped to the old man’s jacket.

Gavin looked around and saw his co-workers smiling, Tina Chen recording the moment on Hank’s phone and even Fowler was grinning from ear to ear. Gavin turned and looked at Nines, who was smiling so big it was a sight to behold. And Gavin understood, because as he looked down to see Nines’ hand right next to his own all he wanted in that moment was to slip his hand into Nines’ and show him and everyone that he loved and appreciated all the small things Nines did to make his life better than it ever was before him.

Gavin slowly moved his hand, so close to Nines he could feel the warmth it radiated. At the last moment though, Nines lifted his hand with the others and clapped as Connor turned from Hank to grin widely at them all. Moment gone, Gavin lost his composure.

He turned and grabbed Nines by the lapel of his jacket, turning him towards him and kissed him full on the lips in view for everyone to see. He didn’t care who saw or if it was proper etiquette. He wasn’t going to waste another moment doubting. Nines was startled, but eased into the kiss naturally. Because that’s what this was. Fucking natural. Gavin pulled away from Nines, still holding his lapel as he addressed his aghast co-workers.

“You see that fuckers? Nines is MINE. I fucking love him. We make out, we have sex and it’s fuckin great! If any of you asshats has any problems with that then I got a fist I call ‘no fucks given’ to introduce your face to.” Gavin said in quick succession, daring anyone to cross him.

The room was deadly silent, awkward even as everyone just stared. Tina had turned Hank’s phone on them and no doubt recorded the whole damn thing. GOOD. Then a voice rang out over the silence.

“No one gives a shit you’re gay for Nines Reed!” Fowler said, chuckling.

“Everyone knows about your make out sessions in the elevator, asshat!” Tina chimed in.

Gavin stood, dead still and narrowed his eyes at the room.

“Are you a moron Reed? This is a Government building. There’s camera’s everywhere you dumbshit.” Hank chimed in and Gavin noticed a few nervous chuckles starting up around them, turning into an uproar.

Still clinging to Nines’ jacket, Gavin leaned in closer to Nines as he glowered at the room.

“Did you know about this RoboPrick?” Gavin whispered to Nines.

Nines leaned in and circled Gavin protectively in his arms, pressing a smirking mouth to the side of his head.

“Of course I did, Detective. Don’t play coy, you did too… It’s all part of the thrill.” Nines replied and Gavin felt his face burn, red hot. Without a word, he pulled Nines along towards the elevator.

“Reed! It’s only 10:30 in the morning, where the fuck do you think you’re-” Fowler started, but bristled when Gavin only lifted up his hand and flipped him off without even turning back.

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You can visit my AO3 for anything I don’t currently post to Tumblr, which is a multi-chapter Reed900 fic currently ongoing. Thanks for reading! 💙

#gavin reed x rk900 #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh rk900 #gavin900 #gavin army #dbh gavin #detroit being human #detroit become human #fanfic #dbh nines

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