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beth-march · 3 years ago

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green like growing (miraculous like tomorrow)

Summary:

“Fez,” Lexi murmurs, with very loving, very dim annoyance. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” Fez answers, a half hearted apology. He glances down at their daughter, pleased to find she is still asleep. He needs her well rested, in the interest of his wife having peaceful nights. “I don’t got a choice, though. She just won’t go down any other fuckin’ way.”

A/N:

This is only the beginning of a long series of domestic moments because that’s all I want for them... I’m going to write it as a multi-chapter so that I write it more quickly. Hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3 here or under the cut:

Sleep flows like a miracle, when the room is shrouded with such light. It should make lucidity hold, except that the hue is gentle, the buttery sparkles of the sun falling less like intrusion and more like a blanket. Fez is enveloped by the warmth, and enveloped by the weight of the young girl slumped asleep on his chest, the sound of her gurgling breath.

It is late morning in the living room, and they are curled up and cosy on the couch.

He has rocked her to sleep, and now she returns the favour. It isn’t deliberate, the way that she soothes him, which makes it all the sweeter. The milky fragrance of the top of her head is a love letter all on its own. She finds rest in the cradle of his arms, and there has never been a moment since the day she was born that she has hesitated in trusting him.

That is unlike anything Fez has ever known. He has been there since the very beginning, holding her since she was unknown, a stirring bud held safe by his love. What a thing for Lexi to have done, and her hand shows in the efforts, her work shows in their daughter.

In a hazy state, not quite asleep and not quite awake, Fez steals glances of his baby. Ensuring she is safe, braced carefully against his sternum, and admiring her pudgy, rosy face. He considers the fan of her eyelashes, the shape of her cheeks, her chin, her nose, the pouty rosebud of her mouth. She looks so much like her mother, and it’s an endless source of joy for Fez. A piece of Lexi to hold onto all day, to tide him over until she returns.

Returning today, Lexi steps into the living room and spills with laughter. She is exasperated, but it disappears beneath adoration. She crouches by the couch, dusts her fingers over the top of Fez’s head, and as he rouses, he turns into her palm, nuzzling close.

“Fez,” Lexi murmurs, with very loving, very dim annoyance. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” Fez answers, a half hearted apology. He glances down at their girl, pleased to find she is still asleep. He needs her well rested, in the interest of Lexi having peaceful nights. “I don’t got a choice, though. She just won’t go down any other fuckin’ way. What the hell does this kid got against sleep, anyway? I love sleep.”

Lexi groans, tips her face into Fez’s, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbone.

“Me too,” she says. “I hardly remember what it was like.”

“Our other little miss givin’ you trouble?” Fez wonders, frowning. He doesn’t remember Lexi struggling to sleep the night before, but he knows she had difficulty resting during her first pregnancy. His free hand finds her stomach, flat as ever, but when he touches that part of her he swears he can sense his youngest, shifting in her cocoon.

“It’s too soon to know if she’s a girl,” Lexi chides, covering his hand with hers.

“If what’s a girl, hm?” he asks her, with a big grin. Lexi has been calling the new baby ‘she’ just as he has been. Fez thinks they’re meant to have girls, imagines their third will be another daughter, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

She rolls her eyes, a sweet acquiescence, and answers his earlier question. “She’s fine. She’s got me more tired than usual, though, and work is fucking exhausting.”

Fez frowns. “You don’t wanna push yourself too much, mama. Wasn’t Marcie tellin’ you to take it easy? Two babies is a lot. You gotta take care of yourself, too.”

“We only have one baby,” she says, dusting her hands over their daughter’s head.

She is still asleep. The sun catches on her dark, wispy curls, the tight ringlets hanging flush on her rosy neck. Gilded such, the red of her hair is vibrant, dark. It has gotten brighter, made her blink open a bleary eye, and the blaze of blue is all Fez.

She never looks more like her father, than when touched by sunshine.

“Mama?” the little girl slurs. One chubby hand stretches out, collides with Lexi’s cheek.

“Hi, baby,” Lexi greets, ducking in close to press a kiss to her forehead. There is so much love in her dark eyes, looking at their daughter, and Fez is always in awe of it, the magnitude of Lexi’s goodness, of all the love she has for their family.

“Did you have a good nap?” she asks, softly.

The baby nods. Her eyes have gone heavy again.

“I might try to get her in the crib,” Fez murmurs.

“Will she even let you?”

“Mm, she might.”

She does. She stays sleepy in his arms, curved against the grey cotton of his shirt as he ambles from the living room, down the hallway. Lexi looks out of place, in her designer sweater, her plaid pants. Pristine and beautiful, spooled tight for her work day, where Fez wears fatherhood like a second skin, in sweats stained in his daughter’s dribble, smeared in the glitter decorating the front cover of the book she likes best at the moment.

This is what his life has become. Depositing the baby in her cot, watching as she sprawls amidst the lavender cotton. She is doll-like, in the perfection of her features. Fez caresses her back, awed, and Lexi lays her head on his shoulder, sighing.

“She’s never going to nap on her own if you keep snuggling with her…”

“Those rules are dumb as fuck. I don’t wanna stop snuggling with her,” Fez grumbles.

It draws out a laugh, which doesn’t discourage him in the slightest. He knocks his forehead into the top of her head, laughing alongside her, something kept hushed for the sake of letting their child rest.

“I know, I don’t want you to either, but if we want her to be an independent sleeper, we have to,” Lexi says, with that authoritative, motherly voice she has. Part of Fez never wants their baby to grow up, wants to keep her small and trusting and untouched by the world, but another part of him is positively aching with anticipation for lecturing, scolding Lexi.

She’s so loving, and she’s so fierce. He’s excited to see her grow as a mother.

“I feel you,” Fez relents, but he is already grinning with his new scheme. “Guess I’ll just have to snuggle with you, instead.”

With that, he bends and hooks a hand around her knees, sweeps her up into his arms. Lexi stifles her own squeal against her hand, eyeing the crib wearily on their way out.

“Fez, I’m on a lunch break,” Lexi protests, while he presses kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Just ten minutes, aight, you said you were tired…” Fez insists. “We got plenty of leftovers, it won’t take long for you to eat. Are you that hungry?”

“No. I’m a little nauseous, actually.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he says, bringing a hand down to pat her belly. “Behave in there, won’t you? Making your mom feel sick, that ain’t right.”

“It’s ungrateful, really…” Lexi giggles, as they make it into their bedroom.

Like he had with his daughter, Fez lays his wife out to rest, and guides her into his arms, offering his chest as a resting place, that which both his girls - all his girls - prefer. Lexi sinks in, nudging her shoes off, and they tumble to the ground. She curls her socked foot around his calf, curves an arm around his middle, hand dipping beneath his shirt.

“I’m actually a hypocrite,” Lexi says. “I don’t think I could sleep without you, either.”

“You’ll never have to,” Fez promises.

It’s a promise he can make. A promise he will keep. These days, he holds nothing but certainty.

#fexi fics

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overdrivels · 4 years ago

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funsizedkola replied to your post “a chef is too easy. gotta now figure out how to...”

Two words: Hair. Washing.

You. You have a great idea there.

---

There are times when Hanzo thinks Overwatch is too lackadaisical about their own safety, rushing into things without plans or meeting people who say they’re Overwatch’s allies without any proof except a shaky history. Then there are times when they’re overly cautious, as they should be, but in the stupidest of ways.

“’Overwatch must not have their hair cut or be shaven by unauthorized parties.’ What is this?” Hanzo looks up from the contract, squinting at McCree and Winston.

“You ever seen the movie ‘Sweeney Todd’?”

“Actually, it was a musical play first, so it would be of no surprise to have known that first.”

Hanzo didn’t know how to respond to that other than just, “No.” It’s regrettable because his orientation is extended for another hour while he learns about a movie (or musical) that is almost a century old about serial-killer barbers and the few barbers whom Overwatch agents are allowed to see at this point in time until all others can be confirmed to be not of the throat-slitting variety. (It’s a silly precaution, really. Hanzo is more likely to cut their throats instead even with a hot towel over his face and three glasses of whiskey in.)

The list of available barbers is short and the missions he goes on usually places him a full day’s vehicle ride away from the nearest one. It’s not as though he fussed about his hair too much--his hair was long in his youth and he usually kept his hair tied anyway. But after lending his ribbon to Satya to bandage her broken arm (which turned out to be absolutely useless because she was able to hardlight a cast for herself), and getting smacked in the face with his own hair and almost shooting Tracer clean out of the air, he figured it was time to make a deliberate pit-stop.

His expectations were low enough. Any stylist or barber who lets McCree run around look like that should have their certifications revoked and then quit their profession entirely. At the very least, the salon is better than your perceived reputation.

It’s a quiet, old-fashioned place tucked between a Starbucks and a huge office building with only two seats and a single person manning it. Unlike other establishments that put their customers on display, the wall is made of frosted glass. Pictures of hairstyles at least 10 years out of date decorate the walls alongside pictures of you in your youth standing with people he doesn’t recognize.

“Thank you for waiting, Mr. Tanaka. What can I do for you today?” you ask as you prepare your instruments.

“Side-shave. Both sides.”

“Would you like your beard trimmed?”

“Make it neat.”

“Sure. Would you care to have your hair washed first?”

It’s not even a debate. “Yes.”

You lead him to the back where the washing station is and you undo his ponytail with little difficulty. A towel is laid out onto the sink’s rim before you carefully guide his head back onto it. Your fingers comb through his hair a few times, skimming his ears, making his eyes close.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mm.”

So far, your service has been passable, but it’s when the hose turns on does his evaluation of you change. The water is tepid but the pressure is strong. You rub your fingers along his hairline and down, rubbing his scalp, easing the tension he didn’t know was there. The sounds of rushing water fills his ears, the quiet hum of an old jazzy tune bounces around the sink. Soon the smell of milky shampoo enters his nose and the hose is shut and both your hands are upon his head, working in unison to massage his head.

Unwittingly he lets out a sigh. This is bliss and it would be great if it doesn’t get ruined by having his throat slit.

#reply #funsizedkola #my writing

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all1e23 · 6 years ago

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Astrophile [Pt. 5]

Chapter: Milky Way

Summary: Movie night is the best night ever.

Warnings: Fluffy fluff. Protective & soft Bucky.

A/N: Please don’t call looking for Bucky. He won’t be there. ;-) Send me love because i”m needy, okay?! Plus all your comments make my day.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Bucky can’t remember a point in his life when he’s had serious difficulty asking a woman back to his place but right now occupying the sidewalk out front of Y/n’s bookstore he’s not feeling very confident. It could be the fact that he’s thoroughly exhausted after working a 10-hour shift or it could be the way she smiles at him. He’s not sure. Either way, he’s dragging his feet. The last thing he wants is to disappoint his baby girl, but they barely know each other. What are the odds Y/n wants to spend all of her free time with him and his daughter? From his experience with women over the last five years, the odds weren’t good.

The sound of Y/n’s laughter trickles through the cracks in the front windows, and his nerves don’t stand a chance next to that sweet sound. He needs to remember to help her fix those cracks though. That can’t be safe. He holds the door open for an elderly couple exiting and slips into the shop after them. Y/n is sitting at the front counter with a book in hand; her nose is crinkled in the cutest way. It reminds him of his Orion, she makes the same adorable crinkle when she’s focused. Bucky looks down and curses internally. He’s in his black jeans, dirty ass boots he only wears to work and a dark blue NYFD shirt, glancing back up at her light blue spaghetti strap sundress, and for the first time in his life, he thinks he should have listened to Sam. He should have changed before he left.

Not that his clothes matter he supposes. Y/n’s just Ori’s friend. That’s all.��

Y/n looks up, a grin splits her face in two when she sees him standing in front of her. She sets her book down and looks behind him a small frown tugging at her lips when she notices he is alone. That’s a real confidence booster, Bucky thought.

“No, Ori?” She asks, smiling the same polite way she does for everyone. It’s not the same way she lights up when Orion is around he’s coming to notice.

“No,” he replied, nerves seeping back into his voice. “She’s at Nat’s waiting on me to pick her up.”

“Well,” She says, setting her book on the countertop before her and crossing her arms over her chest setting Bucky with a firm, playful glare. “Does this mean you have come to say sorry for treating my sweet Beck so cruelly?”

Bucky chuckles, relaxing enough to find his footing around her. She’s easy to talk to. He remembers that much. On more secure footing now, he closes the space between them resting his elbows on the hard surface that holds the register and leans forward a bit giving her that charming grin he saves for times like these. The times when asking real sweet just won’t cut it.

“Uh, wasn’t on the agenda no. I guess I should add it on to butter you up.”

Her eyebrow quirks up from his proximity and curiosity. “Butter me up, huh? What are you buttering me up for?”

Whelp, here goes nothing, Bucky thought. It was far too late to back out now.

“Every two weeks or so Ori and I have a movie night. I pick up a pizza and get a movie. We hang out on the couch and eat an unhealthy amount of junk food. It’s kind of our thing.”

She smiles at the thought of the two of them sitting curled up on the couch watching movies together. While that mental image is so sweet she might have given herself a cavity, none of what he has mentioned has anything to do with her.

“That sounds fun,” She murmurs, a little unsure of why Bucky drove out to her to tell her all of this. The confused look on her face had Sam’s voice ringing loudly in his ears, get it over with Barnes! This is just pitiful man.

“It is,” Bucky agrees, taking a deep breath and ripping the band-aid off before he makes a bigger fool of himself. “That’s kind of why I’m here. After you left, she asked me if it would be okay if you came to movie night and I promised her I would come here and ask if you would join us. I know it’s a little weird and you just wasted last night with us so it’s okay if you can’t or even if you don’t want to. I promised her I would ask and I don’t lie to my kid.”

Bucky and Y/n are both very mindful of the fact that he could have easily avoided all of this by merely telling Orion he asked her, and Y/n would have played along without hesitation. She would have explained that he came by to ask her, but she was unable to come because she had to work, none of which would be a lie. She does have to work. Instead, he went nearly twenty minutes out of his way to ask her if she would come to movie night with him and his daughter because he won’t lie to her. Even over something as small as asking someone to movie night.

It wasn’t that hard of choice.

“Okay. I’ll come to movie night.”

Y/n smiles at the look of shock on his face. He wasn’t expecting that obviously and maybe he didn’t want that answer.

“Unless,” She wonders aloud. “You want me to say no?”

“No!” Bucky rushes out startling her a bit. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I mean no,” He manages to say at a much more normal volume. “You can say whatever you want. I didn’t think you would want to come. S’not like anything real exciting is gonna happen at the Barnes residence tonight.”

“Sounds pretty exciting. Pizza and a movie? Both of those are in my top five favorite things.”

She takes a moment to observe him, and it’s apparent just how exhausted he is, and yet he still came all this way to ask her when he could have called Natasha for her number. There was no way he’s taking the bus or driving when he looks like he is about to fall asleep standing up. She hops off the stool behind the counter and starts rapidly typing away on the computer in front of her.

“Can you flip the sign on the front door to closed?”

Bucky frowns but meanders back to the door and flips the sign over. “Is the next shift not here yet or somethin’?”

Y/n shakes her head as she gathers up a big bag she is shoved under the computer and pulls her jacket off the back of the stool.

“Nope. I don’t have anyone else coming. Just closing the shop early today. Can you get the lights over there?” She asks, ignoring the way his mouth is hanging open like he was trying to catch flies.

“You can’t–” He watches her turn off her office light and make her way towards him. “You can’t just shut down your shop because my kid wants to hang out with you.”

She laughs and flips off the lights she had asked him to turn off moments ago and shrugs casually. “Why not? It’s my shop. I can do whatever I want. That’s what it means to be the boss. Besides, you’re exhausted and can barely stand up so I can drive you to pick up Ori and we can order a pizza instead of picking one up.”

Bucky follows her out the shop thoroughly baffled by whatever the hell is currently happening.

“For the record, a night spent with Ori is never a waste in my book,” She states, keys jingling against her shooting star keychain as she locks the front door. Bucky watches as she struggles to get the door locked having to kick the bottom a few times to force the lock into place. Did everything need to be fixed in the damn shop? He watches as she shoves a unicorn stuffie into her bag and a small black book titled ‘The Moon Book.’ They are unmistakably gifts for Ori, and he can feel his heart stop at the thought she must have put into those presents.

He needed to thank whatever God brought this amazingly kind woman into his daughter’s life.

------

“Comet!” Bucky shouts through Natasha and Clint’s living room towards that staircase that led up to their master bedroom and the bedroom they have set up for Ori because Natasha insisted she has a place of her own when she’s over. Bucky had to admit with the amount of times she spends at their place it wasn’t a waste of money.

“Let’s go baby girl. It’s movie night, and I’ve got a surprise for you waiting outside.”

Natasha grins up at Bucky who is expertly avoiding his eyes and doing everything he can think of to prevent the question that’s about to come pouring out of her mouth, “So. Y/n’s coming over for movie night I hear?”

There it is. He freaking knew it.

“Nat,” Bucky murmurs, a bit of warning edging into his voice. He’s too exhausted to have this talk again and it’s not one he wants Y/n to hear.

“Ori likes her, and that’s the only reason she’s coming over for movie night. You know she told me Y/n is her best friend? She needs friends. You know how hard it is for her to open up. She’s got no friends at school, so if she wants Y/n to come over every single movie night, then it’s okay by me.”

Her expression softens at the thought of her niece having no friends at school and struggling to fit in. It makes her furious that no one in that pathetic excuse for a school can see how incredible Ori is. She can’t take it out on pre-k students, but their parents are fair game if you ask Natasha. Truthfully, Ori reminds her of Y/n a lot. Natasha nods towards Y/n sitting in the car, Ori’s surprise.

“She’s not the only one that has trouble making friends.”

Bucky’s frown deepens as his gaze drifts to the woman sitting out in the car, “What are you talking about Tash?”

“Y/n doesn’t have anyone,” Natasha clarifies gently.

“Before we met she didn’t have any friends. Her whole life is that shop. She goes to work and then back up to her apartment that’s right above the shop. I think that’s why she spends so much time hiding in her books. She’s lonely.”

Bucky watches as Y/n sets the book and a small unicorn stuffie on Ori’s seat and anger instantly swells in his chest. Who the hell wouldn’t want to be her friend?

“Well, she’s not alone anymore,” Bucky says, looking back at Natasha.

“Don’t even start. I’m not gonna let her go through life with no one to fall back on. If I didn’t have you guys, I don’t know where I would be. Especially at the beginning, when Ori was a baby. I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for you Tash. I know that for sure.”

Natasha leans up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re stuck with me. Friends will help, but I think Y/n wants more. She’s just scared to realize she wants something more. Do you really think Stark is no good for her? I know he’s a little much, but he’s sweet under that facade he puts on.”

Bucky’s eyes dart out to the car towards Y/n. “I– I don’t know. I don’t really see them together.”

Natasha grins and shakes her head at clueless dummy in front of her, handing over Ori’s booster seat. Ori comes racing towards them halting any more Stark talk. Ori starts to say hi to Bucky but her entire face lights up when she sees Y/n in the car, and she rushes past him towards Y/n’s car. Bucky looks back at Natasha with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t often she had trouble reading him, but right now she had no idea what he was thinking.

“Fine. Whatever. Set them up. I don’t care, but when it blows up in your face, I am one hundred percent saying I told you so.”

-------

Tonight was going down in the top three of the best movie nights ever, or at least according to Ori. There was pizza, homemade ice cream cookie sandwiches - which were merely premade chocolate chip cookies they had in the pantry and Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer. Ori’s favorite part? Y/n. It seemed like Y/n had a good time. He couldn’t really tell. She was hard to decipher sometimes, but she did this adorable little giggle snort laugh about ten times throughout ‘Hotel Transylvania 3’. Not that Bucky was paying attention to her; all his focus was on his little comet.

At one point, Ori had giggled and said, Daddy, you are just like Drac. He doesn’t know what to do either. Bucky really didn’t know what she meant, but Y/n seemed to get it because she covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. This was the last time he was going to bring Y/n over for a movie if they were going to gang up on him and he made sure they knew! Neither fell for his bluff, and they both had the nerve to say yeah right. At the same time even!

They are a couple of trouble makers.

Ori had fallen asleep on Bucky’s lap before the movie ended giving him a chance to thank Y/n for the car ride, closing her shop early and everything else Y/n’s done for Ori. As much as he loves his daughter, it’s nice when she falls asleep a little early. It gives him a minute to be just Bucky again, even if it’s only for thirty minutes before he goes to bed. He manages to slip out from under his little comet without waking her and offers Y/n a beer which she accepts with an excited grin and shit if that isn’t cute.

“So,” Bucky clears his throat uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other as he passes her the amber bottle over the kitchen island. “Nat is gonna try to set you up with Tony Stark. Just a warning.”

Y/n chuckles and sighs heavily, this isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. “She’s always trying to set me up with someone.”

“I personally don’t think he’s your type,” Bucky says too quickly, too flustered, he shouldn’t care if he’s not her type. They don’t know each other and talking about her personal life was too invasive. He glances back to check on Ori and finds her still fast asleep on the couch, clutching the unicorn stuffie that Y/n bought her.

“You think you’re gonna go?” He asks, purely for the sake of his daughter. If she started dating Stark then it meant Ori would be seeing him from time to time because there is no way he can keep Ori away from Y/n now-- not that he would ever want to. However, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of Y/n spending all that time with Stark.

For Ori’s sake of course. It had nothing to do with him or Y/n.

“Does it bother you if I go out with him?” She counters, taking note of the disapproval in his voice and the way he is ducking her gaze.

“I wouldn’t say bothers me. Just a little worried is all. Friends worry about each other, don’t they?”

Y/n can date whoever she wants and Bucky’s interest in that topic has nothing to do with anything other than friendly worry. He doesn’t want her to get her heart broken when things with Stark go sour, which they eventually will. He’s protective of his friends. The same way he looks after Steve or Natasha. That’s all this is.

“Friends huh?” She snarks, trying to hide the hint of hope that filled her voice — attempting to conceal that deeply buried longing to have someone else in her life besides Natasha, Ori and her books. Bucky can see right through her facade, and it makes his chest ache to know she’s been alone so long she can’t see they have been friends long before this night.

“Yeah, we are friends, Y/n.”

Bucky motions to Ori’s still squeezing her stuffie and grins at Y/n. “It’s too late to back out now. My kid loves you, and you made me read. You chose this mayhem.”

“Does this mean next movie night can I suggest a movie? It’s a grownup movie though. We may have to wait till her highness falls asleep.” Bucky shrugs for her to go ahead, not even realizing that he just agreed to spend another movie night with someone else besides his baby girl.

“We should watch The Martian once you finish reading it.”

“What the hell?!” Bucky shouts softly conscious of the sleeping little girl not that far away from them. He glares playfully at her and shakes his head in mock disapproval. “There’s a movie, and you made me read the whole damn book?”

Y/n perks up, beaming brighter than the sun, “So you finished it?”

Bucky grins at the way her whole face brightened, disregarding how his heart danced from merely a glimpse at that smile.

“Yeah,” He confirmed. “I finished it after you left the other night.”

“And you found out that Beck saves the day? Hm??” She asks, full of sass and i told you so’snark. Her eye catches a picture of the solar system, and she sets her beer down to look through the stack of Ori’s artwork that was on the counter. There are a few space-related ones that she imagined Bucky was happy to see when Ori brought them home, but her favorite was the picture of Ori as a princess.

“Yeah, yeah. Beck isn’t so bad. He stepped up at the end.”

In a normal situation, Y/n would have gloated over being undeniably right, but something under all the stack of colorful crayon drawings had her attention.

“Oh my god,” she says with a playfulness in her voice he hasn’t heard before, and he’s not sure it’s a good thing. She spins around on her heels holding a copy of ‘New York City Firefighters’ to her chest.

“Please, please tell me you are in this,” she begs practically bouncing with excitement.

It was, in fact, not a good thing.

Bucky’s cheeks tint pink at the sight of the horrid calendar, he reaches over the counter in an attempt to seize it from her delicate hold, but she pulls it out of his reach, immediately flipping to find his month.

“Don’t look at that. I meant to throw it away. Give it here!” He whispers, chasing her around the counter.

“Oh my- It’s so much better than I thought it was!”

She giggles, tip-toeing away from him as he chases her around the kitchen island. He had no shirt on under his jacket; his head was turned away from the camera with a shy smile, they left his hair down, and it was wet? They must have caught him mid-laugh because his nose scrunched in the cutest way. She’s never seen anything this amazingly hilarious in her life.

“Look at that little grin on your face. Were you shy Buck?”

“It’s for charity!” He whines, forgetting the way his heart flips at the sound of his name on her lips.

“Is it?” She asks through her laughter and tears that were now steadily falling. “Did they ask you to do that bashful smirk and the little nose crinkle?”

“They did actually,” He deadpans reaching over the counter finally stealing it out of her hands, her defenses had weakened thanks to her laughter, and he seizes the moment. Y/n sighs happily and wipes the fallen tears from her cheeks, attempting to catch her breath but the more he whines the harder it is to stop her giggles.

“The guys wouldn’t leave during my shoot. You can thank them for the face. Did you see Clint’s? He’s holding an ax over his shoulder like he’s Thor or somethin’. How come you’re only laughing at me?!”

“Oh, god. This is the best night. Will you sign it for me so I can put it up in the shop? Oh, please! Please!” She begs, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet for the second time over this dumb calendar.

He groans and looks around for a sharpie, pulling one out of the stacks of mail he had pilling up in the middle of the empty pizza boxes from dinner. She leans over his shoulder and watches as he writes quickly like he’s worried someone will rush in and catch him.

Y/n, you’re smoking hot!

Y/n giggles and tries to take it from him but he pulls it out of reach.

“Are you crazy? I’m not letting you take that!”

Her jaw falls open, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her urge to stay mad at him.

“That was mean. Cold even.” She groans when her eyes fall on the clock behind his head. Bucky follows her eyes and winces when he spots the time 11:37. Waking with Ori first thing in the morning would be a real blast. She rarely sleeps past seven and the second her feet hit the floor she’s ready to breakfast. After cuddles of course.

“It’s getting late. I guess I should get going. I have to open the store in the morning.”

“I guess I should get her up to and follow her lead,” He muses as he pulls the calendar out of reach once again and smirks at her as if to say, Nice try.

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

He doesn’t really like the idea of her going home this late on her own, but he can’t do much with Ori sleeping on the couch. A text will have to do this time. Y/n raises her brow at him, slipping her purse on her shoulder.

“Dude, I don’t have your number. How am I supposed to text you?” Bucky rolls his eyes and holds his hand out for her phone. Y/n rolls her eyes, mocking him and sets her phone in his hands, he quickly types it in and hands it back over to her.

“Now you have my number.” He says with a smug smile and all.

“Okay,” She starts, stopping at the front door. “Before I go I have to know.”

“What?” Bucky pulls the door open for her, heart racing at the serious look on her face. What the hell does she need to know that is that serious?

“Do you often fight fires without your shirt?” She asks, fighting off her giggles for the second time. “Or is it just optional. When you’re feeling extra confident, you go no shirt. Not sure about how the pecs look you cover them up? Or is it by the seriousness of the fire? Smart. That’s very smart.”

He narrows his eyes and ushers her out the front door, “You’re banned from movie night. That’s it.”

“It’s too late, Buck,” She singsongs as she cheerfully skips down the stairs. “You chose this mayhem, remember?”

“No idea what I was thinking,” Bucky's shouts after her, watching as she walks down the sidewalk and gets safely into her car. The front door doesn’t close until her tail lights disappear. Just to be on the safe side. It takes all of ten minutes to clean up thanks to Y/n helping after pizza, even though Bucky remindeed guests don’t clean up. He’s beginning to see she does whatever she wants regardless of what anyone tells her. Bucky likes that. After making sure everything was shut down from the night, and all the doors are locked, he stashes the dreaded calendar in the basket next to the couch and scoops his sleeping comet off the sofa.

“I sleep with you daddy?” A sleepy voice called out from the crook of his arm.

“Yeah, comet.” He whispers back, placing a light kiss to her head as he carefully climbes the stairs towards his bedroom. Bucky lays her down on the right side of the bed, away from his pillow but she quickly moves over and wraps herself around his pillow taking up residency in the middle of the bed. Just like always.

The quiet vibrations coming from his side table have him yanking his ratty old black t-shirt over his head and skidding on his socks back into the bedroom. By some small miracle, Ori is still fast asleep and he breathes a sigh of relief. He flips the light off on the side table and gently crawls into bed, scooting the bed hog over as he went.

[(917)- 555 - 8899]: Home sweet apartment. Thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun with Ori, and I guess you weren’t so bad either. Have a good night Mr. December.

Bucky chuckles quietly glancing down at Ori wiggling around in his bed, struggling to find a comfortable spot. He gently moves up to sitting and types out a quick reply and deletes it just as fast as he wrote it. He tries again, but everything he types sounds so stupid. He groans internally and leans his head back against the headboard. It shouldn’t be this hard to send her a simple text message. He takes a deep breath and types out the first thing that he can think of and hits send before he can change his mind. He doubts he will dream about anything besides her sweet laugh and pretty smile.

He’s not so sure he minds.

[December]: For the record, I wanted you to say yes. Have a good night, Beck.

Previous // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #fireman!bucky #single dad bucky #modern setting #alternate universe

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littleredroseonthevalley · 5 years ago

Text

Gospel of Love, Gospel of War

Summary: Tyril awaits patiently his turn with the giver of his life and his death, considering what means to love when one does not know possession.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Notes: So, I came rather late to the party. BLS is nice enough. No TRR 1 nor ILITW, but better than OH, and certainly better than most books PB manages to skew out these days.

Hope y’all enjoy.

Sometimes, enhanced senses were a terrible nuisance.

I was laid down at the chambers the human Crown was lending me. The bed was the softest I had ever encountered in their realm, rivalling mine at Undermount. The weather was nice and my body was aching with tiredness, and yet, sleep alluded me.

Instead of the milky darkness a lesser being would certainly be facing, I saw the moon shine creeping from the fireplace, and the fire being cradled in the hallway chandeliers. I could see the particles of dust falling slowly from the ceiling, I could hear the ants walking behind the walls and I could smell the perfume from the last occupant of the room, likely a gaudy noblewoman.

However, at home, all these stimuli were also present, and I rarely had any difficulty drifting off to sleep. It is not something I acknowledge with pride, but the source of my insomnia is not the state of the room, but rather the obtrusive thoughts in my mind.

Not several thoughts, just one, the one. Her.

Platinum hair falling from her head in delicate curls, naturally ironed in a precise and symmetrical shape, framing the aquamarine blue of her eyes that shone even in the dark of Deadwood nights, an angular nose that denounced her aristocratic blood and thin lips that turned and twisted with the most delectable promises.

The thin constitution and the absence of blemishes on her clear skin would trick a man to believe that such a woman had never worked or fought a day of her life, but such assumption would be gravely, perchance deadly, mistaken. I have seen her fight, and she can hold her own against many, if not all, warriors I have ever encountered.

Not she found need often. She is charming and cunning, unafraid of using her opponents’ weaknesses of character and resolve against them, of seducing others to fight for her.

She did me, after all.

Her sweet words whispered in my ear, and I was bending my knee to her with such conviction that it was unbecoming of a Starfury, of an elf. I believed everything and anything she had ever told me, and I was willing to defend that belief with my sword if necessary.

She erased centuries of proud tradition and customs ingrained in my personality, in my character, and replaced them with her every whim. She taught me her gospel, and I was proud to be her most loyal disciple.

I was jealous of her, in the name of the gods old and new!

Kivali and Dinvali be damned, to me she was everything. The water for all my thirst, the answer to every question. I have no need for any other woman, elven or otherwise, and all I want from the gods at this point is that I learn how to sate her every craving as well.

Alas, I fail at this as well.

She will not tell me one way or the other, and I fear asking, but I know. I can smell on her skin and I can taste on her mouth, the bedchambers she visits before she comes to mine. I do not know whose will it be every night, but it is never mine first, and sometimes not the last.

I still wait, nevertheless. Awaken, counting the minutes for her to arrive and dreading the time she leaves. Wondering where she went before she came to my arms.

Perhaps it was Volari. The rogue had enviable charm and wit; a physique sculpted on the fire of his basic needs. He had stories of adventure that easily seduced a suffocated country girl.

It could be Aerin. His cultured speech was interesting to listen, and his easy manners were soothing. The prince’s runt nature was known to remind her of her brother. Royal blood was, also, a powerful aphrodisiac, regardless of its bearer’s position in the line of succession.

Her preferences could befall another sex for the evening. For all her appearance of purity, something I am sure many would take pleasure in, Nia had been quite daring since I met her. I am sure it would be enjoyable for both parties pushing the limits of her innocence.

Should be Imtura, it was likely to be the complete opposite, as her condition as an orc makes her resilient and lascivious. A lust that could go on for all night, and a body that could withstand much abuse, as well an enviable experience, certainly acquired in many a ship’s voyage.

Or it could be people I have never met, people I would never suspect. It feels as if everyone is competition, and defeat means death.

I felt woefully underprepared to such a battle. What I had to offer? I am merely a fallen elf from a house, while ascendant once more, was hardly worth all the caveats that came with it, and not even its lordship I deserved. My intellectual achievements were mediocre at best, and I could not hope to hold my own against the Shadow Court in a field of war.

My very life is forfeit in a desperate goose chase for revenge that I could not help but let taint every aspect of my life, endeared to me or otherwise.

I bemoaned time and time again my fates as an heir, for the fact none could see what laid beneath the Starfury name and riches, and now I find myself here, feeling exposed, deprived of every frill and disguise, dreading it, grasping at anything that can conceal me once again. The day of my judgement is fast approaching, and I could only hope for a conviction.

Yet, I wait with anticipation. Yet, I could not sleep, not due to fear and repentance, but with anticipation for any scraps of attention I might have been able to be assigned, like an eager voxper wagging its tail.

It is demeaning and unbecoming, but it feels too good.

Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open breaks through my reverie. The time was upon me, and my body felt the thunder her presence drawing near.

A sliver of light signals her entrance in my bedchamber. She closes the door and step closer enough for me to touch. As her smell hits my sensitive nose, all considerations about her whereabouts vanish, as I reach my arms and trap her close to me.

I do not let her speak in those moments, and I do not hear her words if she insists to talk. I just wrap my arms tighter around her waist and hope for the time to pass me by slower.

Some might need a miracle or a blessing to renew their faith, but I only needed to peruse her skin for me to believe in my gods.

She was my gospel, and I never wanted to let go.

#blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury

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subetei-noykin · 6 years ago

Text

Indepth Profile + RP Call

IDENTIFICATION —

"Can't you see I'm sorry? I'll make it worth your while.

I'm made of dead mans money, you can see it in my smile.”

Full Name: Subetei of the Noykin

Pronunciation: Sue-be-tei

Pseudonym: X

Nicknames: Scales

Age: Thirty Cycles

Name Day: 32nd Sun of the 4th Astral Moon

Birthplace: Azim Steppes, Othard

Guardian: The Salt and Storm

Residence: The Lavender Beds

REFERENCES —

"Thousand faces staring at me, thousand times I've fallen.

Thousand voices dead at my feet. Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone.”

Motto: “Take only what you're willing to have taken, give only what you're willing to get.”

Theme Song: Fire - Barns Courtney

Face Claim: Jason Momoa (Sorry not Sorry)

STATS —

"The deepest waters won't take me, the highest fall won't break me.

The blood and sweat is what made me, made me."

Gender: Male

Race: Au Ra, Xaela Tribe (Noykin)

Height: Seven fulms, one ilm

Weight: Two-hundred sixty one ponze

Eyes: Narrow and hawkish, right eye crystalline blue with large pupil, left damaged and milky white with blood infiltration in the orb

Hair: Steel gray with straw blonde tips, swept back and spiked with four long braids in the front. Medium length at first glance, actually shoulder blade length.

Skin: Purple-Blue, rough and calloused with hard lines

Build: Muscular and toned but wide and sturdy, good bone structure

Auri Features: Dark Blue/Purple scales over majority of face and body including jaw line and nose bridge. Six visible horns, two pronounced which have metallic inserts on their tips and dagger-like shape while the remaining four rise from his hairline and scalp

Scars: Reference Here

Tattoos/Marks: None

At First Glance (+5)

A Warrior: Spotting him in a crowd is rarely hard and he is typically armed, though rarely fully armored. It's in the way he holds himself, the rhythm he moves and the gait which threatens to push those who step in his path over. Even without his rough appearance or scars, or even the callouses on his hands, it would be hard to mistake him for anything but what he is with his body language and the myriad of battle scars covering him. He may smile and laugh, be friendly and around his mate he can even be seen as a gentle man, but there is always a sharpness to his eye and readiness for violence that reads in him clearly enough to put others off.

Odd-Eye: While his eye-patches admirably hide it, Subetei's left eye is utterly decimated and even the surrounding skin shows tell-tale burns, scar edges and fissures of skin that have healed and marred over. It is impossible to not notice in good lighting and seeing it is unsettling to say the least. Underneath it is even worse; The eye has been split and sealed, re-healed and fused to the skin in some places. The milky white orb is bloodshot in places and has flecks of blood mixed in, with no real pupil, and some parts of the bone stick out near the edges of the eye. It is a gruesome sight and it is why he rarely removes his eye patch.

Self-Made: While he does wear some items professionally made or fitted, the vast majority of what Subetei wears is hand-stitched and crafted by him for his own purposes and as such it is rare to find him not wearing something made of hide, leather or decked in fur. While not ugly or poor quality there is a definite simplicity in his designs that shows. Hardly flashy or elegant, there is also an element of Xaelan tribalism that shows as well; Fang necklaces, hanging tassels and colored patterns, it would be hard to ignore such a thing and Subetei wears it proudly.

Heavy Metal: Contrasting to his own creations, Subetei is rarely far from well crafted and maintained arms to the point that even in his most casual moments he will have a hand or cutting axe available. In private this isn't so much a problem, but in public he is usually dragging around a greataxe of proportional size to himself, and this can mean that one is suddenly faced with an over seven fulms tall Xaela with an axe larger than most hyurans. A startling sight to be sure.

Talk Like A Pirate: Despit having been born in Othard, Subetei has spent most of his life and living in Limsa Lominsa, to the extent that he learned the common speech of Eorzea -from- Limsan natives. He speaks with a thick accent of Limsan that on it's own would be rough to discern but he also had the rich, deep and gravel-like voice of a Xaela with their unique speech patterns and inflections. This makes his natural speech difficult to pull apart and understand, though he can control it to some degrees. Speaking more slowly and clearly often allows him to at least be understood with minimal thought.

FACTS —

"Forged in a fire lit long ago, stand next to me and you'll never stand alone.

I'm last to leave but the first to go, lord make me dead before you make me old."

Occupation: Freelance Mercenary, Hunter, Tanner

Specialties: Close Combat, Hunting, Animal Taming & Pack Combat, Archery, Squad Tactics and Battlefield Strategy

Skills: Adept Blacksmith, Expert Tanner and Leatherworker

PROFICIENCY —

"Hey you there in the mirror, yeah that's something to fear

Cla cla claw my way to the top, cause i don't believe in luck."

Education: Self-taught

Favored Weapon(s): Axes of all shapes and sizes

Secondary Weapon(s): Hunting Bows, Knives

Magic Abilities: Berserker Rage (Innate Aether, Uncontrolled

Magic Strengths: Untested, Unknown

RELATIONS —

"I said all this time I'm thinking my body don't need me, all we can do is breathe

Said all this time I'm thinking your body can set me free, all we can do is breathe."

Sexual Preference: Demisexual

Romantic Identification: Monogamous

Relationship Status: Mated

Sweet on: Neyuki

Alignment: True Neutral

Allies: Various Mercenary and Adventurer Friends

Enemies: The Elementals and Various Other Factions

FAMILY —

"By the skin of my teeth, I'm comin' home

By the sole of my feet, I'm comin'home

I'm comin' home, but I ain't comin' home for you."

Maternal: Urnai Noykin (Deceased)

Parental: Ergan Noykin (Unknown)

Mentor: Valdhur Granspar (Former Captain of The Wakehounds Privateers, deceased)

Associates:

Neyuki Utaura (Mate, Companion, Medic)

Mathias Bedois (Friend)

Seemo Eulen (Friend?)

Faucertaux Carpentier (Former Boss, Friend)

Sigrid Der'ioslainn (Former Captain, Friend)

Ulan Qestir (Friend)

Roka (Friend)

Nerkhun Malaguld (Friend, Companion of Ulan)

Bexy and the Limsan Fight Club (Friends and Punch Partners)

Renaux Mercier and the Gin Mills (Friends and Maiming Muchacos)

Illyriana Usagi and the Garden of Words (Friends, FC-Mates and Co-workers)

Alred Briarthorne, Wind Moondark, Asajin & The Black Crown Mercenaries (Former Squadmates and Subordinates)

[List Continues for some time, he knows a lot of folks and I can't name them all oh god]

Companion: Valdhur [Red Chocobo, Warbred]

MENTALITY —

"One day the shadows will surround me. Someday the days will come to end

Sometime I’ll have to face the real me. Somehow I’ll have to learn to bend"

Social Level: Easily coaxed into social behavior. Open and brash. Jovial and quick to friendship. Hard to anger or offend. Comfortable in small groups or large crowds equally.

Optimistic View(s): There is no shame in the work of living, no sin in the act of surviving.

Pessimistic View(s): No one gets out alive. Life will take all it gives in time.

One Positive Personality Trait: Subetei is the sort of person who attracts others with a boisterous personality and a hearty laugh, no matter the circumstances. Even in the midst of a fight he can usually find time to crack a smile or a joke and in social settings it is rare he lets someone be a 'wallflower' around him, opening his table and tab to others with little reservation.

One Negative Personality Trait: Subetei is incredibly physical and has no consideration for his own monstrous strength around others. From a simple hand-shake to sparring, he does not hold back in any interaction with others and while this is normally not an issue, it makes it hard to be around him if one is frail or excitable.

·One Personality Warning: Abuse of his trust is tantamount to asking to die when it comes to Subetei. If he considers you a close friend, which takes some work, breaking that bond is traumatic to him in a very personal way and if you're lucky, you'll simply find yourself on the bad end of an ass whooping. If what you'e done is severe enough, he has no qualms about seeking his own revenge and retribution no matter what laws or barriers would stand between him and you.

Random Quirk: Digs his claws into furniture when excited.

Hobbies: Wandering and Riding, Sparring and Training, Physical Labors, Brewing Mead and Alcohol

Addictions: Work, Neyuki, Fighting and Violence

Habits: Glib, Violence Prone, Outgoing and Upbeat, Accidental Intimidation, Intentional Intimidation, Swearing Every Other Word

Pleasures: Good Drink, Hunting, The Outdoors, Working with Animals, Seafaring, Combat and Fighting, Sex, Control

Appreciates (List 5+)

Humility Humor Craftsmanship Beauty Strength Honesty Commitment Self-Control Accomplishment Skill Knowing Ones Self

Dislikes (List 5+)

Defeatism Lies Fire Unearned Authority Disrespect Paranoia False Promises Intolerance

Strengths (List 5+)

Patient Good Teacher Honest and Loyal Hardworking Committed and Dedicated Physical Dynamo Thrifty and Coinwise Good Business Sense Open and Tolerant (Tries to be) Thoughtful Extroverted and Inviting Able to Listen or Chat equally Forgets grudges easily Self-Reliant Outdoorsman Expert Mercenary Tactical Mindset

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Berserker Easy to break Trust Difficulty developing relationships Addicted to combat and violence Mercenary attitude Grey Morality Self-invested Coin Driven No Self-Preservation Neyuki No Family Values Craves Work and Physical Exertion Cannot Cook Carries Weight, Even if he doesn't have to

Fears (List 5+)

Losing Neyuki Losing his remaining eye The loss of freedom Inability To Work or Fight Returning To Othard

FAVORITES ––

“I spent those days huntin' hard and fast, With no place to lay my head

And the sound of the rain against the roof, Was loud enough to wake the dead”

Favorite Food(s): Jerky, Aldgoat Steak, Breadfruit, Stews, Anything La Noscean

Favorite Drink(s): Teas, Ale Mead or Rum, Water, Coffee

Favorite Scent(s): Heat, Dry earth, rain on the breeze, herbs and sweets, metal sparking and copper in the mud

Favorite Colors: Black, Brown, Green and Blue or subcolors

TRIVIA ––

We seek tomorrow’s sun, It’s all for the taking here

Only the valiant survive, Live for better years

Subetei's mixed upbringing has given him a tenuous faith in the Twelve, or the Xaelan deities, and instead he has developed a slightly paganistic viewpoint of the world in the form of natural phenomena. The Salt and Storm, as he calls this viewpoint, is a simple belief that while life is harsh and can be demanding, it's pains and undertakings are rewarding in experience if nothing else. It also holds a certain karmic edge to it as well. He does not really call this a 'religion' or believe others should live like this.

His wounded eye is extraordinarily light sensitive despite being functionally blind and when exposed to sunlight or other equally bright sources it's akin to having the wound reopened with blades of salt and fire. It causes him incredible pain and exposure for a long period can lead to blacking out or migraines so intense they last days. His eyepatch is as much a safety measure as it is a decoration for him and as such he wears extremely well-made patches. Metal wires are used to reinforce the straps and the leather is studded if not inset with metal sheets. He also uses metal ringlets on his horns to hold the patches in place. If he expects particularly pitched or harsh conditions he will often use salves or pastes to hold the patch in place.

With his inherent reliance on instincts and natural tendency to disassociate from morality or consciousness during battle, Subetei has developed a dangerous habit of going into berserker trances during battle that put his already high reflexes into overdrive and his natural senses become sharp enough that he has, for instance, picked up the sound of an arrow approaching and smashed it aside before it can connect with him. While useful and extremely dangerous to others, it presents a unique danger to himself as well, as his already uncomfortably high pain tolerance is also increased and he has been known to inflict damage on himself to continue to fight, even at the risk of health or death.

Subetei has an unstable aether that has never been trained, developed or explored in any respect. He cannot use aetheryte, cast spells or channel it in any meaningful way willingly or consciously and those who try and scry his aetheric strength are faced with a soupy, chaotic mess that does not spell much out. Yet he has been known to perform feats that can only be described as 'inhuman' when he fights unconsciously and in his trances, leading some to conclude that Subetei's aether actively permeates him at all times and empowers him, allowing him to fight at above-optimal strength and focus even when he should be gravely wounded. This is not formally confirmed, but it would explain why he also tends to be quick to recover from wounds and injuries as well as his distaste for sitting still and being idle.

While he and Neyuki share an amazing chemistry that cannot be called anything but 'love', Subetei has historically been awkward and uncomfortable around women and intimacy in the past. During his time before Neyuki he had next to no partners and no long-term relationships due to his emotional issues at his younger age and later on his insistence on isolation. He also has certain physical irregularities that make him wary of sex. When approached sexually or flirtatiously he often comes off as cold and aloof, if not outright dismissive, as he has frankly no fucking idea how to react to it in most circumstances.

While Subetei does a good job of containing it, there is a part of him that thrives in the loosening of his reins and control. This primarily comes to the front during battle when he looses himself, but it also tends to show in other moments where restraint is pressed; This includes his time with Neyuki and they are infamous in certain taverns and inns for the destruction of property that has occurred when Subetei truly lets go of himself, and more than once it has been suggested that Subetei's habit of carrying Neyuki everywhere is a symptom of this.

Subetei can pilot a boat and maintain a ship well enough that he is often comfortable going out by himself on sailboats over moderate distances and he loves the ocean, but a certain thrill-seeking part of him loves the sky and airships. During his time in a mercenary company with such vessels he frequently took out the ship he was assigned and used it for all sorts of activities, both on and off the job.

It cannot be understated the kind of outdoorsman Subetei is, to the extent that he can and has survived over a month in the wilderness with only basic supplies to begin with. During his time as a hunter and mercenary he has learned many survival and wilderness methods that he has also become a scarily accurate tracker and wayfinder, though he often does not use those skills in anything but his actual work. He has discovered some secreted places in his times in the wilderness and though he has recorded them quietly, he does not intend to explore or give away their location. Some things are intriguing to simply know.

Subetei's eye was lost during an extremely controversial moment in Gridanian history, where the Wood Wailers and Twin Adders as well as mercenaries hired by an unconfirmed source, descended on a Keeper of the Moon encampment accused of poaching and harboring criminals to the Shroud. Subetei balked when the order was given to drive the children and non-combatants out of the encampment with fire, an act that would have cost lives, and turned on his employers. Though he survived he harbors a lasting grudge against the Elementals, for allowing such an act to be considered free of sin yet hunting to survive be an act worthy of reprisal, and he further disdains Gridania for their involvement in the action and subsequent attempts to play the act off as the work of factions impersonating Wailers and Adders.

One might be forgiven for assuming Subetei does not speak the Auri dialect anymore after his time in the rest of the world but this is extremely untrue. While he has difficulty reading Auri script nowadays he can still speak fluent and distinct Auri with an old Xaelan syntax and inflection that marks his time away from the Steppe. He chooses not to converse in it often, even among other Xaela, to preserve the air of distance he has from the Xaelan culture and to keep an ear on those around him if they do speak it. He is also fluent in sign and non-verbal gestures as Neyuki is mute, allowing him to communicate with Qester rather comfortably at times.

Subetei is a Noykin by blood and nothing else. He does not use his name as a surname and instead as a title, as if it is only a formal thing, and he does not recognize any other Noykin as his brothers or sisters in any way. Though he still retains many of their skills and love of animals he is long removed form his family and their culture. To introduce oneself to him as a fellow Noykin is to receive the same greeting as anyone else, but he has no patience or acceptance for those who would use the name to garner clout with him.

OOC -

Server: Balmung

Timezone: PST

Mun: Male / 28yrs

Experience: Roleplay Experience of 14+ years. Writes in any format, matches length and complexity where possible. Will scene In-Game, Discord and other mediums as requested.

Type of RP: Any/All, Mature and R-Rated themes included. Long-term Storylines or One-shot scenes. Enjoys interacting with Canon and OC alike.

Looking for: Friends, Partners, Punchvictims, Employers, Brothers or Sisters in Arms, Privateers and Pirates, Gridanians and Ishgardians to grouse at, Rivals or Antagonists. Pretty much anyone!

RP Hunting Time!

This post is mainly an RP call for anyone who’s interested in plotting, roleplaying or otherwise hanging out ICly. I’m not looking for anything in particular, no specific scenes or types of scenes, Subetei is flexible morally and ideologically.

Need a hired hand? Gil makes for strange bedfellows. Old pirate or mercenary contact? Sounds like drinks at a tavern. Want to fight? Time to fight. Canon or OC, no difference to me.

I’m not sure how I feel about AUs and the like, so anything like that would need it’s own discussion!

Feel free to directly message me here on Tumblr or on Discord at Versesai#3794!

#ffxiv #ooc #profile #rp call

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subetei-noykin · 7 years ago

Text

In-depth Profile, Subetei Noykin

Note: Stolen/taken from @miss-bullets-and-booze who made it for her character and it seemed like a fantastic way to get back into Subetei for me!

IDENTIFICATION —

"Can't you see I'm sorry? I'll make it worth your while.

I'm made of dead mans money, you can see it in my smile.”

Full Name: Subetei of the Noykin

Pronunciation: Sue-be-tei

Pseudonym: X

Nicknames: Scales

Age: Thirty Cycles

Name Day: 32nd Sun of the 4th Astral Moon

Birthplace: Azim Steppes, Othard

Guardian: The Salt and Storm

Residence: Limsa Lominsa / Semi-Nomadic

REFERENCES —

"Thousand faces staring at me, thousand times I've fallen.

Thousand voices dead at my feet. Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone.”

Motto: “Take only what you're willing to have taken, give only what you're willing to get.”

Theme Song: Fire - Barns Courtney

Face Claim: Jason Momoa (Sorry not Sorry)

STATS —

"The deepest waters won't take me, the highest fall won't break me.

The blood and sweat is what made me, made me."

Gender: Male

Race: Au Ra, Xaela Tribe (Noykin)

Height: Seven fulms, one ilm

Weight: Two-hundred sixty one ponze

Eyes: Narrow and hawkish, right eye crystalline blue with large pupil, left damaged and milky white with blood infiltration in the orb

Hair: Steel gray with straw blonde tips, swept back and spiked with four long braids in the front. Medium length at first glance, actually shoulder blade length.

Skin: Purple-Blue, rough and calloused with hard lines

Build: Muscular and toned but wide and sturdy, good bone structure

Scars: Left eye, center chest, shoulder, innumerable others of varying seriousness

Tattoos/Marks: None

At First Glance (+5)

FACTS —

"Forged in a fire lit long ago, stand next to me and you'll never stand alone.

I'm last to leave but the first to go, lord make me dead before you make me old."

Occupation: Freelance Mercenary, Hunter, Tanner

Specialties: Close Combat, Hunting, Animal Taming & Pack Combat, Archery, Squad Tactics and Battlefield Strategy

Skills: Adept Blacksmith, Expert Tanner and Leatherworker

PROFICIENCY —

"Hey you there in the mirror, yeah that's something to fear

Cla cla claw my way to the top, cause i don't believe in luck."

Education: Self-taught

Favored Weapon(s): Axes of all shapes and sizes

Secondary Weapon(s): Hunting Bows, Knives

Magic Abilities: Berserker Rage (Innate Aether, Uncontrolled

Magic Strengths: Untested, Unknown

RELATIONS —

"I said all this time I'm thinking my body don't need me, all we can do is breathe

Said all this time I'm thinking your body can set me free, all we can do is breathe."

Sexual Preference: Demisexual

Romantic Identification: Monogamous

Relationship Status: Mated

Sweet on: Neyuki

Alignment: True Neutral

Allies: Various Mercenary and Adventurer Friends

Enemies: The Elementals and Various Other Factions

FAMILY —

"By the skin of my teeth, I'm comin' home

By the sole of my feet, I'm comin'home

I'm comin' home, but I ain't comin' home for you."

Maternal: Urnai Noykin (Deceased)

Parental: Ergan Noykin (Unknown)

Mentor: Valdhur Granspar (Former Captain of The Wakehounds Privateers, deceased)

Associates:

Neyuki Utaura (Mate, Companion, Medic)

Mathias Bedois (Friend)

Seemo Eulen (Friend?)

Faucertaux Carpentier (Former Boss, Friend)

Sigrid Der'ioslainn (Former Captain, Friend)

Ulan Qestir (Friend)

Roka (Friend)

Nerkhun Malaguld (Friend, Companion of Ulan)

Bexy and the Limsan Fight Club (Friends and Punch Partners)

Jun'to Nharuya and the Gin Mills (Friends and Maiming Muchacos)

Alred Briarthorne, Wind Moondark, Asajin & The Black Crown Mercenaries (Former Squadmates and Subordinates)

[List Continues for some time, he knows a lot of folks and I can't name them all oh god]

Companion: Valdhur [Red Chocobo, Warbred]

MENTALITY —

"One day the shadows will surround me. Someday the days will come to end

Sometime I’ll have to face the real me. Somehow I’ll have to learn to bend"

Social Level: Easily coaxed into social behavior. Open and brash. Jovial and quick to friendship. Hard to anger or offend. Comfortable in small groups or large crowds equally.

Optimistic View(s): There is no shame in the work of living, no sin in the act of surviving.

Pessimistic View(s): No one gets out alive. Life will take all it gives in time.

Random Quirk: Digs his claws into furniture when excited.

Hobbies: Wandering and Riding, Sparring and Training, Physical Labors, Brewing Mead and Alcohol

Addictions: Work, Neyuki, Fighting and Violence

Habits: Glib, Violence Prone, Outgoing and Upbeat, Accidental Intimidation, Intentional Intimidation, Swearing Every Other Word

Pleasures: Good Drink, Hunting, The Outdoors, Working with Animals, Seafaring, Combat and Fighting, Sex, Control

Appreciates (List 5+)

Humility Humor Craftsmanship Beauty Strength Honesty Commitment Self-Control Accomplishment Skill Knowing Ones Self

Dislikes (List 5+)

Defeatism Lies Fire Unearned Authority Disrespect Paranoia False Promises Intolerance

Strengths (List 5+)

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Fears (List 5+)

Losing Neyuki Losing his remaining eye The loss of freedom Inability To Work or Fight Returning To Othard

FAVORITES ––

“I spent those days huntin' hard and fast, With no place to lay my head

And the sound of the rain against the roof, Was loud enough to wake the dead”

Favorite Food(s): Jerky, Aldgoat Steak, Breadfruit, Stews, Anything La Noscean

Favorite Drink(s): Teas, Ale Mead or Rum, Water, Coffee

Favorite Scent(s): Heat, Dry earth, rain on the breeze, herbs and sweets, metal sparking and copper in the mud

Favorite Colors: Black, Brown, Green and Blue or subcolors

TRIVIA ––

We seek tomorrow’s sun, It’s all for the taking here

Only the valiant survive, Live for better years

OOC -

Server: Balmung

Timezone: PST

Mun: Male / 27yrs

Experience: Roleplay Experience of 14+ years. Writes in any format, matches length and complexity where possible. Will scene In-Game, Discord and other mediums as requested.

Type of RP: Any/All, Mature and R-Rated themes included. Long-term Storylines or One-shot scenes. Enjoys interacting with Canon and OC alike.

Looking for: Friends, Partners, Punchvictims, Employers, Brothers or Sisters in Arms, Privateers and Pirates, Gridanians and Ishgardians to grouse at, Rivals or Antagonists. Pretty much anyone!

Tagging: @tarot-dancer @the-false-ser-toes @ulanqestir @alred-briarthorne @nharuya @rokachan @windflower-moondark @sigridderioslainn @falconsgaze @uurkhilen @theolder @cranialupi @healerstail @lamiavuinuet @muffinsandglasses @lorythas @an-ale-of-a-tale @trishelle @kulain @riskibusiness @doman-swordswoman @snowy-catte @snowcoeurl-xiv @snowdrop-xiv @praise-nhaama @ayyymeric @aymeric-the-blue @accaliadecorus @heretiques-xiv @shirtlesslizard @degeneratemagicalcatgirl @bexyamalaryssia @illyrianausagi @skysteelsun @the-hawkeyes @dietkoalawithlime @chiffon-rabbit @connor-is-the-captain-of-my-bed @wyrmbled @lordcommanderaymeric @safestsephiroth @freshorenjuice @moryera @wyvernjack-xiv @rexnorh @maybeimawhale @eiragos

I can’t keep tagging but this maelstrom of tags if brought to by ‘I wanna interact with everyone but have only one soul to sell for more free time so if ya’all got tagged or even if you didn’t, please feel free to hit me up for the RP’.

#ffxiv #ooc #subetei noykin #profiles and information #asks and memes #lord this took way too much time

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