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thessalian · 1 year

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Thess vs Office Gripes

I don’t have a lot of gripes about my job now that I’m basically working from home unless there’s someone direly needed to help with the phones. But I do have a few.

Today’s minor annoyance actually involves that “unless there’s someone direly needed to help with the phones” thing. Scruffman emailed while I was doing some of the other fiddly bits of bullshit that make up part of my job (more on that later) and said, “Hey, I’m away on the 14th and 15th of February; can you come in those days to help with the phones?” Which, I mean, I haven’t been into the office in about a month and I’ll have been on my birthday-present-to-myself week off the previous week so I should be in relatively good shape for that. So I said no problem, pending any fuckery with the buses (no strikes slated for that week yet, but I refuse to get complacent). He emails back saying, “Great! Can you call me on the 10th for an update on things?” Which ... no. No, I cannot. I can see why he wants that, because it has been awhile, but a) I really don’t see what can have changed in that time, b) I don’t see why something like that can’t be an email, c) it is my week off, d) it’s not even the nearest date to his going on annual leave so why bother when something might happen on the Monday to change everything up, and e) IT IS MY BIRTHDAY. So I told him I had plans. And I do have plans. Admittedly my plans are to sleep in, accept birthday wishes, potentially plan things for the various D&D stuff I’m running that weekend, have sushi with my mother, and watch the last three episodes of The Legend of Vox Machina S2 (hopefully with a little watch party with @true0neutral if that’s a possibility). None of those things technically preclude me ringing the office, but I do have plans, so I’m not really lying, and I don’t want to. So I recommended the 13th (Monday) or, if it had to be on my week off for some reason, the 9th. No, I don’t work on Mondays, but I’d rather have a work conversation when I’m gearing up to actually go to work the next day rather than dumping it into the last few days of my week off. He said fine, 13th is good, but he wants me to call “as early as I can” because he’s leaving at 3pm. I am technically off the clock on Mondays and am frankly doing him a favour so I kind of resent working on his schedule, but as long as I call before 2pm, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

And then there’s the Temp thing, which was an annoyance today but gets its own category because it’s a year-spanning bit of aggravation. Temp is still fobbing off the difficult typing onto everyone else. I know she wants to blow through things quickly to reduce the queue, but so does everyone else who types. Granted there are not many of us at this point, but still. It’s frustrating as fuck to see a typing queue sorted by date typed where everything is dictated from, like, 3pm yesterday except for the one long piece of dictation from one of the more frustrating-to-type-for techs timestamped 11:30am. I do my share, even when there’s a whole big clump of long ones all in a bunch, so she should do the same. There’s also the line drawn between “short and simple”, “longish but not that bad”, and “overly long and frustrating”, because she and I draw them in different places. For me, it only really qualifies as “long and frustrating” if it’s hitting the five-minute mark. For her? She’ll go to great lengths to avoid any typing that’s not under two minutes, and she’s apparently not much into any of the ones that go over a minute, either. So I get a lot of the “longish but not that bad” bits and pieces that she just kind of leaves lying there. And one or two is fine; they happen. Thing is, those two-three minute dictations add up, so I get more overall typing if I want to get a decent number of dictations out of the queue.

That on top of the fact that I had to take an hour out of my typing groove for more of the fiddly bullshit I was talking about earlier. I mean, I don’t mind pulling up recent reports on what is now the main system; it’s actually easier these days, since I can just copy/paste NHS numbers into the search field and get it done that way. What I don’t like is having to dig up old reports from as much as five or six years ago, which you only get on the old system. See, I do still have access to the old system, but that’s on the remote desktop, and I can only access email, and thus the details on what I need to search, for on the main desktop. And that’s still honestly fine with a larger monitor where I can do a split-screen between the two. Thing is, I have a laptop screen, and not a very large one. Copy/paste doesn’t work between the two desktops, and split-screening it makes it really hard to read. So I had to write down eighteen NHS numbers so I didn’t have to do any alt-tabbing. (There’d be a lot of alt-tabbing, too; NHS numbers are ten digits long so remembering a whole one without checking wouldn’t exactly work.) Of course, some of them came from a different hospital, whose reports are on that system technically but on a segment of it I can’t access because I was never given the right permissions for it, since we were migrating off it anyway. Which meant I had to let that old POS patient record system grind for awhile until it found the reports for those patients, only to find that none were the ones I wanted. At least the lady who was asking for them is nice; she always sends me a nice little thank-you email when I’ve sent her stuff. I don’t have the heart to tell her that she’s screwed up at least one of those NHS numbers and really needs to provide more details about what reports she wants exactly so I’m not sending her a half-dozen reports because I don’t know whether she just wants the surgical histology or if she wants the diagnostic core biopsies too.

Also, there’s still the typing queue. I mean, consider. First hour of my day was fighting the old system for reports. Then I got the long and fiddly typing. Plus I had to send at least four emails to techs because they screwed up a thing. The footpedals they use for switching on the recording aren’t great and they keep forgetting that, so sometimes they cut off important words or measurements. Or, worse, they forget to step on the footpedal and lose the whole body of the report, which happened at least once today. The dumb part is, I recognise more of the errors than most because I have a lot of the basic reports on a kind of auto-fill system where I can just type in a keycode, press tab, and the entire report’s basically there bar changing some measurements and maybe a description or two. But things like how the specimen orientation works, the inking protocols, that kind of thing - that’s all there at the press of a few keys. So I notice when they, say, lose or forget to dictate the inking protocols. And I email them going, “I noticed that you usually say [THING] but [THING] was missing from your dictation this time; was that intentional?” I inevitably get back, “Ooh, shit, yeah, forgot about that; thanks for being vigilant”. (I guess this is why I got “exceeds expectations” on my performance review last month.)

Anyway, point is that digging up reports and correcting techs’ work and typing the long irritating shit takes time, as does the negotiation of my going into work for a couple of days next month. That’s time where I am not typing. And yet, despite my working my ass off with the time I had, despite Temp only taking the quick and simple reports, despite everything ... we weren’t out of yesterday’s reports by the time I logged off today. I don’t know what the hell kind of dawdling she was doing, but if she’s going to take just the short reports, I want them to vanish fast; otherwise, what’s the point? I look at this and I feel bad about being off on annual leave tomorrow ... but I’m owed it and I will take it. I’ll just dread what the typing queue will look like on Tuesday. We are looking for a new full-time staffer for this kind of thing, but they’re starting with internal hiring and it’s not like we can spare the people we already have. One of our part-timers is looking at the full-time position, but then who does the work she does when she’s part-time? Where’s the woman who’s still apparently on maternity leave? We lost two staffers and we’re only replacing them six months or more later, and with only one person. What the fuck?

Still. Long weekend. I will try not to have The Guilt over it.

#Thess has a day job #Thess works from home

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frankhightower · 7 months

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Is my queue full?

When I originally decided to open commissions back in 2017 (yes, the commission opening that broke me), I did a lot of little experiments and hard math and came to the conclusion that the maximum number of commissions I could be working on at a time was seven. I have now reached that number. So why does it look like I'm still asking for more?

How my queue works

For starters, I should probably indicate to any that are still questioning, that my queue is not a regular First-In First-Out queue, but a priority queue. Getting Halloween stuff done in time for Halloween, for instance, should be given priority. I also give priority to adopts, since there's a certain expectation that this is an "off the shelf" sort of product, so the sooner I create the "missing parts", the closer I can come to that expectation (and it's one I'm interested in keeping). Then there's a Round Robin -sort of algorithm to prevent starvation (for the non-computer-geeks, this means that if I feel I haven't talked to a commissioner in "too long", I will try to prioritize them, which inevitably results in cycling through the commissions -- e.g. if I were to have gotten all 7 on the same day and none of them had a halloween-like-deadline priority, you would probably see: the first week, me doing the base lines on all of them; the second week, flat colors on all of them in the same order, and so on) But at the end of the day, the priority of what to work on is set by my own mental health. Since having to "get professional help" mid-pandemic is what started me actually drawing every day (I was dealing fine with the lockdowns, but everyone around me wasn't and that was, to put it mildly, unmanageable).

I won't forget people if I get more

I keep a detailed spreadsheet of all my commissions (Trello just doesn't cut it for me), so there's no danger of me "forgetting" about a commission. I also periodically double and triple check PayPal to make sure I didn't miss any the last time I updated the spreadsheet. I don't post the spreadsheet publicly because there's sensitive information on it, and all the public really needs to know is already in the journal header on FA. For historical purposes, the journal header currently reads Current queue: Jespe, secret commissioner, Medieval YCH(Nezmog, Jespe, TaurusProductions, Microcub), Jespe again, Halloween YCH, Xyie, Pokémorph Adopts(Soraxel, buckywhitetail13) Those are the seven (though you could argue they're actually 11).

Why I'm asking for more

The dry spell of the summer was exceptionally dry (I got 1 commission in the entire month of July 2023 despite posting a lot about my commissions, vs. 6 in July 2022 when I barely posted at all), and while I knew summers would be dry, I was not prepared. I expected, at least, to count on my day job, but with the pandemic "over", I discovered that all that was propping my income up was pandemic bonuses/stimuli. I survived by maxing out my credit, and now need to repay it: my debt payments have doubled from what I told you at the start of the donation drive. To put it simply: I'm scared.

What I'm doing to manage it

While I won't be limiting my queue, I am toning down on promoting my "products". I had planned, for instance, to unveil a new adopt for every one that got adopted (I've identified 36 of my designs that might "qualify", or about 10% of all the pokémon I've drawn -- remember I did the Kanto 150 twice) but now I've decided to put off so much as contacting the original recipient until the queue has shrunken somewhat. While I still intend to do a YCH for November, I will probably also put off on unveiling that. And, of course, I'm going to let the finished commissions speak for themselves, rather than do "I'm open!" reminders.

Posted using PostyBirb

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glowingbadger · 2 years

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Which Laguz go “oh SHIT” vs “:) !” When they discover their human/branded lover is pregnant 😈

Technically this is further down in my queue but I need some lighter headcanon type stuff between actual fics lol so lets go through the list~

Again, I'm doing just dudes for now, but being pretty thorough- and adding in the branded fellas too because fuck it.

Oh also this is all post-canon, so everyone's thoughts on Beorc and Branded and such are at that stage

Laguz guys (FE 9/10) x AFAB Reader

Pregnancy headcanons - semi-spicy

Mordecai - Absolutely glowing with pride and excitement; he does of course have some understanding of how difficult life will be for the child- progress has been made, but society doesn't change over night. But he's also had enough uplifting and fulfilling relationships with Beorc like Ike and others that he has hope for the future, and sees his child with you as a sign of that hope. He's not incredibly knowledgeable about taking care of you during the pregnancy, but he'll pick up on your needs over time and spends the months happily doting on and protecting you.

Muarim - His first reaction is more of a nervous, panicky excitement. On the one hand, there's the rush of knowing that you're carrying his cub. On the other hand, while things are better now than in his youth, Muarim has truly seen the depths of cruelty that you and his child could face. He immediately becomes intensely protective of you, hovering near at all times and caring for you constantly- frankly, he'd carry you everywhere instead of letting you walk if he had his way. Ultimately though, he'll be realistic and measured about it all, being sure to communicate his fears but reassuring you that he's willing to face it all to protect the child with you. Also Tormod is SO EXCITED to be a "big brother" and so thrilled to see Muarim have this new happiness in his life

Caineghis - He's well aware of the challenges you'll face together- hell, it wasn't easy to tactfully quell his subjects' discontent when he took a Beorc mate to begin with. But to him, beginning a family with you is one more way he seeks to move forward in the world and to show that the two races are meant to coexist. He's wonderfully caring and nurturing during the pregnancy too, doting on you enough that you feel safe and comfortable, but careful not to smother you either. You're his Queen, after all- you're strong enough to handle this, especially with his support.

Naesala - Boy this is a tricky one lol. It's definitely something that catches him off guard, and his first reaction is somewhat panicked, though he does well to conceal it. More than anything, he worries about how the less savory things he's had to do as King will effect you and the child. Truly, he never intended to sire any children, never even considering it until he took you as his mate. But with time, he's shocked to find that he actually finds the idea somewhat pleasant. He does his best to be casual about it all, but you know him well enough to notice the new way his eyes linger on you now and the gentle way he holds you.

Nasir - While he takes the news seriously and does feel the weight of this new responsibility in his heart, he is nonetheless optimistic and joyful. Unity between Beorc and Laguz has long been a dream of his, and what better way than to nurture this new life drawn from both races? Aside from which, by the epilogue of Radiant Dawn, he's a great-grandfather, so raising children is nothing new to him- he's an excellent father, calmly supportive, and protective but reasonable. That said, the way dragon Laguz age is so alien to a Beorc that this odd family structure is more or less to be expected.

Ranulf - He's excited, but anxious about it to be sure. Frankly, he probably noticed something different about your scent pretty early on and started getting antsy then and there. He's a realistic sort, so he's potently aware of how things could go wrong- but with your reassurance, and given time to sit with the idea, his usual enthusiasm eventually wins out. He's not sure what Beorc pregnancy is like, so he's definitely going to need some guidance, but he's sweetly attentive and makes it abundantly clear that he'd do anything for you and the child.

Reyson - Arguably one of the most anxious of the lot; with the herons' intuition, he's able to tell you're pregnant almost immediately, so he may actually be the one to tell you. He's clearly nervous at first, between his own trauma and the unpredictable nature of the Branded. Ultimately, through the assurance of having you at his side and the knowledge that, through your union, his family and his people will be remembered, he does come around to happily anticipating the birth of his child. He's excellent at pregnancy care, too- he can sense whenever something seems "off," and his songs are incredibly soothing.

Skrimir - He is absolutely full of love and joy at the news- anyone else's opinions be damned. He'll personally challenge anyone who gives you any trouble to a fight, and show them that he will tolerate no insult to his mate, especially now that they carry his child. He'll excitedly brag about you and the great news to anyone who will listen, and even though he knows very little about pregnancy or child care, he's certainly not lacking in enthusiasm. He may need a good deal of help understanding the more serious side of all of this, but it's hard not to get caught up in his infectious excitement.

Tibarn - I genuinely don't think a single soul would have the guts or the audacity to give him or his mate any trouble about their Branded child. All it would take would be one person getting a little shady about the whole matter for Tibarn to have claws out, slowly and firmly informing the poor sod that their life is in danger if they don't learn to watch their tongue. Overall, he's thrilled with the news, becoming a bit territorial and very affectionate during the pregnancy (honestly he's even the type to enjoy pregnancy sex imo). While he does have some concerns about not knowing how to care for a wing-less child, he's certain you two can manage it together.

Ulki - Ever the serious type, he'd want to have a long conversation about this first and foremost. He truly doesn't know what to expect, and that's fairly nerve-wracking for him, but with your reassurance, he'll commit himself fully to caring for you and his child. The whole experience brings out a surprisingly nurturing (if still a bit on-edge) side of him. With time, his superior hearing will even make it so he can hear the baby moving later on in the pregnancy. This is a blessing and a curse- on the one hand, he's filled with affection at the ability to connect with his unborn child, yet on the other, he keeps waking you up to ask you if you're sure you feel okay because he knows he heard something.

Janaff - His immediate reaction is untethered joy, even lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, not even realizing that he's flown you two a few feet up off the ground. He quickly remembers to be gentler with you, of course, especially given he's not sure how delicate one needs to be with a pregnant Beorc. If you bring it up, he'll make it known that he is fully aware of the challenges of raising a Branded child, but he'll smile sweetly at you and remind you that you both have dealt with others' garbage opinions of your relationship before- together, you can handle this.

Volug - Because the Hatari have no pre-existing prejudice toward Branded, his only concerns are of the usual "oh shit I'm going to be a dad" sort. Still, with Nailah's support and you by his side, he'll be a steady and reliable safe haven for his new family. While he has redoubled his efforts to learn Tellius' language now that he has you, he is still a man of few words, so he'll express his affection by closely guarding you, holding you close to him as often as he can. He's another one who would catch the change in your scent early, so this new, nearly obsessive need to touch and be close to you may give you pause at first.

Branded (spoilers ig, but dude if you don't know by now, c'mon)

Soren - Oh he's going to panic. His trauma is going to manifest in a bad way here- until Greil, he had no contact whatsoever with any positive parental figure, and his own Brand has caused him nothing but suffering. But when Soren finally lets someone into his heart, his devotion is intensely deep and lasting, so given time to calm himself and work through the sudden rush of thoughts and feelings, he'll hold you close, trembling as he quietly asks for you to just give him time and he'll do his best for you and the child. With any luck, the brand won't manifest on the child, and they can live a normal and happy life- either way, Soren will devote himself as fiercely to you both as he always has to Ike.

Stefan - He may be the only case here where he actually truly hopes that the brand will manifest. Given the community of Branded that he's fostered over time, he's thrilled to share the news that you're carrying a symbol of the next generation of his people. He positively glows with pride, though he's subdued in how he expresses it aloud. Stefan is actually another who I think would be into pregnancy sex- perhaps something about you carrying his child has called to his Laguz ancestry in some way.

Zelgius - Similarly to Soren, he's going to have a lot of complex feelings about this- yet ultimately, his affection for you and the hope for the future that this child represents will win out. Since the failure of Sephiran's plan, he's felt adrift in the world, with only his connection to you to keep him going. The realization that you're pregnant with his child fills his heart with something new, and a sort of warmth he'd left behind long ago begins to grow within him. He's not certain how well he'll do as a father, but it's clear that he'd do any and everything to protect you both.

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

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MOLLY! Does good girls Anthony ever see Kate in traditional dress maybe for a holiday like Holi? Or maybe a party? Cause I think GG Anthony would be MESMERIZED?!

Oh Anthony is *obsessed* with this. He's obsessed. Like, LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND IS SHE NOT THE PRETTIEST!!!!

As always I am not an expert on South Asian culture (ya girl is white AF) and I do get nervous sometimes discussing Kate's culture because I am sensitive to the fact that I 1) may be accidentally insensitive which is never my intention and 2) May be perpetuating harmful stereotypes however inadvertently. So as always if I need correcting, hit me up!

May I also just say I spent 45 minutes staring at pictures for this. White People, why are we so bland at weddings?????My word. Anyway, here's Anthony, attending his first event for Kate's family.

Anthony was stressed. That was an understatement, actually. Anthony thought his stomach was going to shrivel up and die from nerves.

"Mum, are you sure I look okay?" He said for the millionth time, standing in front of the mirror, the grey suit stark against his skin.

His mother hummed, "You look very handsome, Anthony. I promise, Kate's going to like it."

Anthony sighed at her unhelpfulness, fiddling with the blue of his tie. "What if this isn't the right colour blue? And I look stupid! Or like... I don't know, what if she's decided she doesn't want me to come with her. Her grandma's gonna be there."

Panic had been rising steadily in his chest for weeks, ever since Kate had said, very casually,

"My cousin is getting married next month."

Anthony had smiled at the thought of it, "Cool, that'll be nice, You'll get to dress up pretty, and dance. You'll have to send me a picture."

Kate bit her lip, "Actually, you were invited... if you want to come, you obviously don't have to, but my grandmother wants to meet you, and um... I want you to come as well."

Anthony's mouth had fallen open in surprise, his heart pounding, unable to formulate a response to the fact she wanted him to be part of her family in a more intimate way.

"You don't have to dome. Forget I said anything." Kate said quickly, misreading his silence completely.

Anthony had shaken his head a little desperately, "If you want me to come. There's no way I'm not coming, Princess." And her smile had been so beautiful.

He'd asked her, specifically, what colour her dress would be, because he wanted to match and she'd smiled,

"It's blue and gold. You can wear either."

And it had suddenly occurred to him in a way it hadn't before. "This is a Hindu wedding."

Kate had looked a little bemused "Yeeesss." She'd drawn out the word as though it were obvious, and he supposed, yes it fucking was obvious.

But Anthony had panicked, "I don't really... know a lot about your culture, are you sure you want me to come? I don't want to embarrass you."

"Anthony do you want to come?" Kate's head was tilted curiously, a genuine question.

Anthony nodded, maybe a little too vehemently. "Yeah, I want to meet your family."

Kate smiled, kissing his cheek, "Then that's all you need to know. The rest I'll teach you."

So now here he was, standing in his bedroom with his Mum fussing around him, in the first suit he'd work since his father's funeral. And even more nervous.

"You think Kate is going to see that your tie doesn't match her clothes perfectly and ask you not to come?" His mother said a little exasperatedly.

Anthony scowled, "Well When you say it like that, it doesn't sound great."

"Exactly." His mother said marching from the room, "Come on now, or you're going to be late."

The whole way to the Sharmas Anthony thought he might vomit. Nerves nipping at his stomach even as he stood at the door, too afraid to knock. The door swung open anyway.

"Anthony sweetheart, what are you doing out here?" Mrs. Sharma had obviously spotted him, loitering on the curb.

"Oh um... I was tying my shoelace." She gave him an astute look, a little hum.

"Don't you look handsome? Kate's in the living room."

Anthony nodded, finally, bringing himself to look at her, and when he did he couldn't help but smile.

"Mrs. Sharma, you look amazing." Green and gold silk seemed to spin around Kate's step mum, cascading like a waterfall, Anthony suddenly felt very underdressed in his three piece suit as Mr Sharma walked down stairs, in green to match his wife.

“You’re very sweet, but wait until you see Katie.” Anthony had a sudden jolt. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him that she’d be in traditional dress, she hadn’t said, but he supposed it must have seemed obvious to her, and he’d been too stupid to ask.

“Anthony, you look very smart.”

“Thank you sir, I wasn’t um, sure… Kate said this would be okay?” He was resisting the urge to sprint from the room, suddenly desperate to get away before Kate’s entire family judged him wanting. The crown tattoo wrapped around his left forearm burning.

Mr Sharma clapped his hand on Anthony’s shoulder, wheeling him towards the living room. “You look great, Son. Be careful, all the Aunties will be trying to steal you for their girls.”

And then Anthony stopped dead, even as Kate’s father tried to tug him forward. Because the Kate that was standing in the living room, pinning some decoration into her sister’s hair was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, blue and gold silk and organza woven together in a skirt, that floated and swished in the air around her, her skin glowing golden in the light, a corset style top he doubted was strictly traditional tight against her, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. And his tie was the wrong fucking colour.

“You are so beautiful.” The words were out before he could stop them, causing Kate’s head to shoot up a slow smile stretching across her face.

“You don’t look so bad either.” Anthony felt a little smug, suddenly as she walked towards him, her lips brushing his cheek, but Anthony was still fixated on the fabric all around her. Even as he was bundled into the car, he couldn’t stop staring, barely even looked at the bride, barely looked at anything until he was tugged up to stand in front of a group of women that included Mrs. Sharma, Kate’s hand tight in his.

“Who is that handsome man, Katharine?” The oldest woman said narrowing her eyes at him.

Anthony felt his cheeks grow warm as Kate smiled, a Tamil word Anthony didn’t quite catch falling from her lips before “Aunties, this is Anthony.”

For a horrifying moment everyone stared at him, their eyes raking over him, Mrs Sharma smiling encouragingly.

“It’s lovely to meet you all, you all look so beautiful today.” God he sounded stupid, panic was rising in his chest, even as Kate’s hand gripped his tightly.

And one by one they all smiled, the oldest woman, Kate’s grandmother, patting his cheek. “Katie, what a polite boy, and so handsome. Now tell me young man, what are your plans for the future?”

“Kate rolled her eyes, “Anthony’s going to be a mechanic.”

Anthony nodded as her Grandmother nodded approvingly, “Not afraid of hard work either, excellent young man.”

Anthony relaxed ever so slightly.

“They like you too much already, Son.” Mr Sharma hummed as they watched Kate and Edwina twirling around the floor. “No getting out of it now.”

“I don’t think I’d ever want to Sir.” He couldn’t help himself.

Mr Sharma clapped him on the shoulder, “Good Lad, now, this is your queue.” And he pushed him out onto the dance floor next to Kate.

#good girls au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #Sharma family feels #erryone’s here #Molly’s asks and answers

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

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MariJon Week

Day5: Social Media/Life Swap

It's gone midnight but it's still day 5 somewhere in the world and I've 3% battery left!

This prompt was not playing ball to write but it's done! It's not proof read but it's finished finally!!

Masterlist

Day1 Day2 Day3 Day4 Day6 Day7

____________________________________

Who would have thought a hashtag would have resulted in this. A “small series” of videos. A quick succession of tweets and a “innocuous” request have ended up like this. Even more so that she didn’t really used twitter a whole lot.

Marinette smiled amusedly, her attention to watching the chaos unfold in front of her. If Ayla was upset, then it was her own fault in the first place.

Six months ago:

Miss Bustier’s class were used to Marinette ranting about Akuma designs and costumes. The class had taken to recording these outbursts as a result and posting edited versions on twitter. She had gained her own hashtag because of a particular caped akuma; #EdnaModeHasSpoken

Someone (Alix) had thought it would be amazing idea to ask for requests to have the Parisian Edna Mode “discuss” global villains. Alix and Kim printed off what pictures they could find on the net of them and primed Alya up to record and let Marinette roll.

And oh boy did she roll. She tore into the Riddler’s wrong shade green and purple mix. She praised Lex Luthor on suit colours until she ripped into him on the suit cut. With Prankster she bemoaned the lack of originality of it all, a hybrid attire of Ridder and Joker.

Over the course of a few months almost biweekly Alya posted a new update of “Edna’s” views on the world of villain fashion. The harshest critique came when villains chose poor fashion rather than the poor Akuma victims who were forced by Hawkmoth.

Three months ago:

A new type of request came in to Alya's account. Specifically from @Zombieboy requesting that Edna review Gotham Vigilante's as she had done a tremendous reviews on Gotham's Rogues.

Seeing the pictures Alya had found, Marinette let a high pitch shrill before starting to pace.

"What the… how the… underwear on top of tights?! Where's the Kevlar?! The protection!!!

Traffic light children!!! With not trousers!!!

Is that a tampon on his head?! A swim hat?!

Why skin tight?! They dont have magic! Have they lost their marbles???"

Marinette drew in a deep breathe before releasing

"Capes!!! Are they trying to kill themselves. It's hero 101 no capes?! What are they thinking. They're from Earth … they are from Earth right? Superman obviously copied Batman's fashion sense and he's an alien. The poor man is blind but coping Batman's fashion. It's hideous!!

The only semi decent is tampon head as at least he looks like he has some armour protection. And no Cape. The leather jacket is tolerable but he needs a different cut!"

Marinette's pacing inreased with her disgust and somehow had picked up her sewing scissors and started to wave them around as she got more and more wound up.

"Capes and underwear!! Are they serious about saving the world dressed like that. It's an eye sore. Capes!!

What is with Gotham fashion?!?"

"Em… can you put the the scissors down please?!"

Alya ended up having to stop filming to help Alix try wrestle the scissors from Marinettes grasp.

#EdnaModeHasSpoken #BatmanLostHisMarbles #BatmanVsSupermanFashionCrimes #UnderWearAsOuterwearNoThankYou #CapesNoCapes #EdnaNeedsToPutTheScissorsDown

One month ago:

Some how unintentionally Marinette had managed to get into the middle a Twitter battle between Metropolis and Gotham. @TrueHeir had decided that Gotham had obviously superior fashion crimes than Metropolis stating that being the worst at fashion was a skill that Metropolis didn't have as they had to copy Gotham. Which had caused a backlash led by @BoyOfSteel stating that Metropolis moved away from wearing pants and having a leather jacketed hero first.

The battle online got quite heated until @TrueHeir demanded that the mysterious Edna wade in and settle the debate.

The issue suddenly became that Edna never really had her whole face shown @SassyFox managed to film it in such a way that it was hidden. Edna didn't seem to have Twitter. The way to solve it was to track down @SassyFox.

One week ago:

Jon and Damian via covertly using the Bat Computer managed to track @SassyFox down to Paris. They located a small(ish) area that based on the videos and pictures regularly taken. The pair looked at each other and knew that's where they were heading. They wanted, no NEEDED to Edna to settle this arguement of there's.

Checking that no one was about the pair zeta'd to Paris. They were men on a mission. A mission to resolve this fashion disaster crisis. Was Batman and Gotham or Superman and Metropolis the worst dressed.

They'd spent the day camped out in a local park. But no sign of anyone remotely like @SassyFox. To replenish supplies the pair decided to try out some local cuisine.

Jon insisted on this bakery. All the reviews rated it as one of the best in Paris and he had to try it. Walking in he met with the heavenly delight smells of pastries. He could feel his mouth drooling with the onslaught of sights and smells. He dragged Damian in to look at all the treats hidden behind the glass. Jon was drawn out of his pastry driven haze by a sweet voice asking if he wanted anything. Looking up to the source of the fairy like voice was a cute face. Blue eyes shimmer with amusement and blush coloured gloss graced lips twitch towards a suppressed smile.

"Everything!" Jon responded without thinking. Causing an eyebrow to raise on the girl's face.

"Tt! What Kent means is what would you recommend? Savour and Sweet."

Smiling a broad grin the girl launched into describing the pastries and treats and suggesting recommendations. She packed their goodies up and sent them on there way.

One day ago:

"Morning Jon, Damian, the usual?"

"Please, Marinette. Could you also pack another box on those macaroons you had yesterday as well?"

"Sure things. I take it they were a success?"

Jon nodded in agreement.

Jon and Damian after their first visit and repeatedly ended up at the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and Patisserie over the course of the week. Jon was hooked on the sweets and maybe a little (a lot according to Damian) taken by Marinette, the girl at the counter.

"The macaroons were above average."

"That's Dames speak for excellent" Jon cheerful supplied. "Hey Marinette are you on twitter?"

Jon picked up some cursing under her breath something about Alya and she was going to *kill* her before she plastered a fake smile on her face.

"I'm not. My friend uses it all the time though."

"Oh, so you've heard about the Parisian Edna Mode?" Jon cocked his head to the side. Marinette's heartbeat had picked up. Through gritted teeth so responded,

"Yup. I've heard about *Edna* my friends are slightly obsessed with it all. They *adore*her reactions."

She smile loosed at the American pair as the morning rush started to pick up.

"Sorry guys, I best finish your order off and help Maman deal with the queue building."

She effectively concluded the conversation in a polite and effective manner before waving them off with the supplies for the day.

"She knows more than she is letting on."

"Mentioning Edna made her heart beat quicker Dames. Do you think she knows her?"

"It is a high potential. Today we should stay near the bakery as formour hunting grounds."

Now:

Damian and Jon were at the park near the bakery. It appeared Marinette was off today so was missing from the bakery so Jon was "sulking".

By pure chance or coincidence, potentially luck, though the pair saw her enter the park with a group of friends and set up a picnic for them all. One was setting up music to play while others seemed to be playing an elaborate (childish) game of tag. Marinette her self looked gorgeous in a pale pink sundress. She outshone everyone she was with. When Marinette saw them she gave them a wave causing a blush to cross his cheeks.

They were content observing from a distance until Jon grabbed Damian's arm.

"It's her!!!"

Even from the distance, Marinette was mimicking Edna's wound up animated gestures of frustration. Jon could hear the growl and heat in her voice. It was a perfect match. Damian watched while quickly researching Marinette and who the girl filming was. It was all lining up. The final evidence was when a pink hair girl threw herself on Marinette crying out "Em!!" in a similar fashion to the scissor incident. Em wasn't a name but M short for Marinette.

Damian finally had found his mark and was determined to end this war with him being correct. This time it was him dragging Jon towards the girl.

"You're Edna!! You didn't tell us yesterday when we asked about it!"

"Yeah, my gurls Edna what about it. Who are you?" Alya quickly jumped in.

Marinette flapped at Damian, flustered by his bluntness.

"TrueHeir and BoyOfSteel. Edna needs to make a decision on which city has the worst fashion. Gotham or Metropolis. Once that's done this arguement can be settled and we can move on."

"What?!?! Damian??? Jon??? You've come all the way to Paris to resolve that??. What the…" Marinette looked confused at the pair. It seemed extreme to go to so much effort to find her just to settle this.

"You've stalked my gurl!!! You freak!! That's crazy. You're crazy!! All because of an arguement you two got into!!"

"Alya… you may have started it with posting all this?"

Marinette tried to defuse the situation which didn't really work.

"So who is worst?!" Demanded Damian.

"I… errr…." Marinette looked between the two boys. Which ever city she chose wouldn't be the end of this so she needed to think quickly. But she was panicking now….

"Star City!" She cried out.

The boys stopped and looked at her.

"What?!?! No! That's not what we asked. Why? You had to have chose Gotham." Damian was not impressed and about to launch in to integration mode when Alya cornered him and demanded that now he knew that he had to leave Marinette alone.

Jon just stared at Marinette. She had completely changed the rules and cleverly removed potentially tension that could of occured between him and Damian. The bragging right was taken away and handed elsewhere. With that thought Jon gentle grabbed Marinette's hand to get her whole attention. He softly kissed her cheek and smiled playfully at her.

"Sneaky move. Nicely played though Edna."

Marinette grinned up at him, knowing he got what she did before the pair turned around to watch the chaos of their best friends.

#maribat #maribat au #marijon #marijon week 2021 #jon x marinette #marinette x jon #ml x dc #dc x ml

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

Wangxian prompt: They see each other constantly. Like, maybe they're neighbors, or is a "my kid's teacher" situation. Maybe they meet at the bus stop, or work in the same company but different offices. So they're aware of each other and they exchange glances, maybe little inside-joke smiles about things they both notice. They see each other being brave, competent, kind, so so handsome. And when they actually talk to each other months later the first thing they say is "Marry me" and "Yes"

ooh!! this sounds like a lot of fun, i love it so much. i think office workers would be the best bc then we can contrast the banality of the rest of their lives to the quirkiness of their relationship so to speak.

okay so it all started when lwj decided that he wanted to eat breakfast on his apartment balcony

he takes his bowl and goes to sit in the chair outside and he’s prepared to just enjoy the cool morning air but when he looks up he sees a man sitting on the balcony exactly opposite his

wwx, by some strange luck, has the apartment across the street, and always goes outside to try and wake up bc he is not a morning person at all and the 9-5 job is killer for someone who likes to go to sleep at like three in the morning

anyway, lwj looks up and sees this kinda cute guy just sitting on the floor miserably blinking at the rising sun and is like oh weird and tries not to stare too much

but after that first time lwj sees him, he starts seeing mystery balcony dude everywhere, like everywhere and no amount of not staring is gonna save him

he goes down to his favourite cafe to get a cup of tea after breakfast and while he’s enjoying his tea and reading the newspaper he hears someone laugh loudly and glances over to the muffin display to see balcony man chatting with one of the staff as he orders his own coffee

balcony man must have noticed his attention because he looks over and for a moment he looks confused but then he’s smiling brightly at lwj and it’s this absolutely amazing smile and he’s even hotter when he’s not sitting in a ratty t-shirt across the street and lwj panics, chugs the rest of his tea, and immediately leaves

he ends up arriving at the train station fifteen minutes early and is stuck awkwardly waiting while avoiding the grandma who likes showing men pictures of her granddaughter who is very beautiful and very single apparently

the train arrives and lwj gets on, finds a seat and pulls out his phone to respond to emails. then, just as the doors are about to shut, who should rush in but balcony man

he’s kinda sweaty and red but the guy makes it look good and he ends up sitting down a few metres from lwj, not that lwj notices because he’s very busy responding to his emails about how one of the teams in sales is having difficulties with one of their projects, so busy that he spends the next thirty minutes staring at the email unable to get past the second line

lwj and wwx end up getting off at the same stop and to lwj’s absolute horror they end up going to the same building

lwj tries to do the thing where you speedwalk past the person so they don’t think you’re following them but then wwx did the same thing to him so they end up arriving at the same time

they get in the elevator together, lwj near the door off to the left and balcony man in the far corner, leaning against the wall and looking down at his shoes

it’s kind of awkward but thankfully wwx gets off at the fifteenth floor - software design and tech support or something while lwj gets off at the twentieth floor - sales maybe?

he doesn’t see the man again until the end of the work day when they get into the elevator at the same time and go back down. they’re the only two people in there bc they’re working late or the stars aligned or something

and that’s just the first day. after that, every day the same thing happens and they keep seeing each other as they’re going to and from work.

but also lwj goes to do the grocery shopping and when he’s paying wwx is in the next line across and when he goes to buy new strings for his guqin wwx is already in the store buying a new mouthpiece for his dizi

this goes on for a few weeks and then one morning, while wwx is trying to shock his system into waking up and lwj is just enjoying breakfast, they hear familiar shouting: the couple downstairs is breaking up again

lwj rolls his eyes, aware that come next week they’ll be dating again, and just blocks it out when the boyfriend comes stumbling out of the building with his shirt half on and the girlfriend still yelling

he looks across the street to see what balcony man thinks of it all and sees that he’s mouthing along to the argument (it really is exactly the same speech every time but it’s incredible that he’s memorised it). lwj snorts. it’s unseemly and rude but balcony man is over there acting out the break up as well as mouthing along and it’s the funniest thing lwj’s seen all week.

wwx notices him laugh and decides to wave at him. lwj tentatively waves back and with that the magic of their relationship sets in

now when lwj goes to the cafe in the morning wwx will look around the store until he spots lwj and wave at him, and lwj will lift his mug up in greeting which always make wwx laugh

then when they get on the train, they always get seats opposite each other and while they never actually say anything, sometimes lwj will glance over to see wwx sneaking a look at him. they both blush and look away but moments later they’re doing it again

when they walk to work, lwj crosses the street so they can walk at the same pace and not have to actually be right next to each other and despite having to cross back over, wwx is always still waiting to catch the elevator with him.

now when they go up, they still don’t talk to each other but wwx always hums and lwj taps along with whatever tune he’s picked.

same thing when they go back down in the evening and catch the train back

over time it starts to become more than just staring and smiling, now when the couple downstairs breaks up, wwx will hold up like three fingers and lwj understands that balcony man thinks they’ll get back together within three days

(wwx’s always right btw)

when they go to the cafe lwj will send wwx a thumbs down if the sports mum with eight kids gets in queue first and wwx will always make hearts with his hands whenever the baristas start flirting.

when they get in the train and hear the angry businessmen argue they’re sitting there making funny faces at each other,, well wwx does and lwj just tries to keep his face blank. he usually succeeds but sometimes he smiles and wwx will always do a little victory wiggle which is honestly so cute lwj is dying

the elevator? they don’t even have to say anything. whenever a coworker they don’t like hops in they just find subtle ways to explain why they don’t like them and how

the best time was when lwj saw su she get in and immediately pulled a face like he sucked a lemon and had to try and mime “he always takes really long lunches and is really bad at sales but we can’t get rid of him because he’d whine too much and no one wants to put up with that” but he’s lwj and doesn’t really do miming. in contrast, when wen chao gets in wwx just holds up his thumb and pointer finger like he’s measuring something, and holds them only a few centimetres apart.

they both get really good at reading each other like that

when they catch the train back home it’s always really late so lwj ends up reading a book while wwx sketches and, just as lwj always holds up his books so wwx can see the cover, wwx will show lwj whatever he’s drawn

at one point in time lwj comes home and sees a stray kitten hiding in a box near the entrance to his building but he can’t take it in bc of his rabbit so instead he goes out onto his balcony and just points straight down and holds up a cardboard box he has in his own apartment

without even hesitating wwx goes downstairs and crosses the street, still dressed in his pyjamas, and takes the kitten home.

lwj kinda expected wwx to take the kitten to a shelter or something but within a month their morning routine changes to allow a kitten to climb all over wwx as he tries to wake up and it’s ridiculously adorable but also lwj is sitting there in absolute awe of how good balcony man is to just take in a stray like that

there’s probably a few other scenes, like wwx and lwj going out to a dinner with their teams and they get seated at nearby tables and end up sending each other commiserating smiles whenever the conversation gets particularly dull and the time when lwj gets caught by the well-meaning grandma who always tries to set people up with her granddaughter on the train and he taps out sos in morse code and wwx just replies rip and stares out the window for the rest of the trip

anyway this is getting a bit long so im going to say jump forward a year (doesn’t have to be a year i guess). they’re still enjoying this whole thing they’ve got going on and they know each other so well that when lwj sees wwx some mornings he knows to go to the cafe early and order an extra strong coffee for wwx and wwx will sometimes sketch pictures of rabbits when lwj seems a bit annoyed after work

(wwx will fold them into paper aeroplanes and throw them across the train to lwj and lwj always takes them home and flattens them back out and then shows them to his rabbit before before putting them up on the fridge)

one day the trains break down and they’re stuck waiting at the station in the morning and for once lwj feels genuinely sad that he might not get to work on time. like work is whatever but he doesn’t want to miss out on the half an hour on the train with balcony man and the way they speedwalk to see who can get to the office first and the awkward waiting outside the elevators where wwx bounces up and down and lwj taps out a rhythm against his thigh until wwx notices and starts humming along

but then he notices wwx walking over to him. he seems kinda nervous, hesitating at first but he puts on a confident smile and saunters over and lwj is panicking because they haven’t done this before and he doesn’t know what to do

wwx opens his mouth - he’s going to make the first move and ask out his mystery man, but then lwj takes one look at wwx, who’s standing right next to him and it feels different to all the other times they’ve been together, and he panics

wwx barely manages to open his mouth to say good morning when lwj blurts out will you marry me?

wwx blinks, blushes bright red, and immediately goes yes! (it’s a bit too loud and people around them turn to stare but neither of them notice)

lwj immediately whips out his phone and sends in an email saying that he’s taking a sick day and after he sends it off, he slips his phone back into his pocket, takes wwx’s hand in his and asks him what’s your name?

it takes wwx like fifteen minutes to stop laughing by which time they’re back at their cafe and this time, they both sit down at a table after ordering their drinks and it’s the baristas making hearts with their hands at them

#Anonymous #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs #modao zushi #mo dao zu shi #asks #my aus #cql #the untamed #anon i hope this turned out alright!!#i loved your prompt so much and i wanted to do justice to it #i was thinking it was gonna be short but it ended up being really long too ):#or not a sad face if you like long answers?#who knows!!#but i had a lot of fun!#i didnt get much into the brave & competent thing bc i wanted to create a disconnect between their normal jobs and these moments they share #also?? they'd probably have to talk if they saw each other up close so rip the logistics

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btsinwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 1: The Beginning

A Loki fanfiction!

Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

---------------------------------

It’s your third week back in school and you're slumped over a tower of textbooks as some kind of makeshift pillow. Your head rests on the 394th page of “The Dream Oracle” where you’ve begun to drool. You raise a hand to wipe it away, which takes up nearly as much energy as trying to stay awake.

It was cold in the dark.

Chills ran up your arms, from your fingertips to your neck as you floated through the darkness. It was frightening the first few times you dreamt of it but now it was familiar. The cavern formed slowly as your eyes adjusted to the minimal light emitted by a fire below you. Small sticks and papers created a meager flame which reflected off the black pool of water you looked into. You always wondered who made the fire, but there was never anyone there.

In the centre of the cavern was a small lake, its ripples moved like serpents. On queue, your body flew over to the middle of the lake and dove in. You swam - more like sunk - to the bottom. It may have enveloped you in utter darkness, but you saw the glow. The bluish light of the object drew you in like a moth to a flame and you reached out for it. Once again, you were thrown out of the lake just as you were about to touch it.

You looked around at the empty cavern and noticed the shadows moving. This was new. Usually, you woke up as soon as the lake threw you out.

Near the shore, by a dangerous jut of rock, there was a man. He was tall, with raven black hair and a proud nose. His expression was one of wonder and fear. There was a green light that emerged from his hands and he waved this light in front of him and beside him, almost erratically, as if he was warning someone - or something - to stay away.

“Don’t come near me!” he shouted. It echoed through the cavern.

You came closer and recoiled at what he was speaking to. Every dark shadow was, in fact, a body. The green light that the man emitted showed their decaying, pale faces. These bodies moved towards him. Not a sound, but each expression was contorted painfully. Their bony hands reached out to him, and he threw a green ball of fire at them. Some flew backwards into the lake, but there were so many.

They surrounded him. You saw him put up the fight of his life, and yet they came closer still. Until he had nowhere to run. You reached out to try to help him, but your body was already being pulled away. The last thing you heard was him scream your name, “Freya!”

Hands slapped onto the desk, and your head bounced on the pages.

“My god, have you been sleeping here this whole time?” An annoyingly familiar voice said. “You wouldn’t believe it! They’re finally getting a replacement for Professor Rattowl.”

It took several seconds for you to remember where you were. You lifted your head and look into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes and an aloof expression.

Her hair was braided on the sides and drawn into a high ponytail. Her robes were wrinkled as usual. “Valkyrie, how did you find me in the Hufflepuff common room? I specifically told Thomas to throw you off.” Your voice was thick with sleep.

Valkyrie snorted. “Thomas is a fool for a flirty conversation. You’d think that boy had never had a wank before…”

The memory of the dream hit you, and your heart sank. “Valkyrie, I saw something.”

She glanced at you and then to the wall of the hallway. A long shadow approached swiftly. “Oh shit, the prefect!”

“Quick! Hide!” You said to Valkyrie, pointing her to the coat closet.

A gleaming head of blonde hair turned around the corner and walked towards you. His eyebrows were raised, and he adjusted his rectangular glasses, glaring at you. You tried not to look guilty.

“Eves, what are you doing? This is a quiet area, and I heard voices.” he walked around your desk, looking around suspiciously.

“I must have fallen asleep. I had a poor sleep last night so…”

“Hmmm,” he said, walking near the coat closet.

You held your breath as he reached for the brass door handle. “You know we don’t allow any other houses in our quarters, Eves.”

“Of course.”

He turned to you, reaching away from the handle. “Then you also should know we don’t condone dirtying the sacred pages of our texts,” he said, gesturing at your books with a frown. “Clean this up and head to the Great Hall. Headmistress Frigga has announcements to make.”

He left, adjusting his glasses again but with his shoulders straightened out as if he had done a good job. You wondered if he would pat himself in the back afterwards.

Valkyrie all but crashed out of the closet and mocked Gerald. “Sacred texts! What a prat.”

You chuckled as she took a chair beside you. “Sacred or not, this damned thing cost me twenty galleons!” You wiped the drool away with the sleeve of your robe. The inside was a warm yellow. You glanced at Valkyrie. “How do you keep sneaking into our common room?”

She winked at you with a mischievous smile. “I have my ways, my sweet innocent Hufflepuff darling,” she said, reaching out and patting you on the head. “I wouldn’t dare want to corrupt your purity with treasonous talk.”

You punched her in the arm. “You are a jock in the land of intellectuals,” you said with a smirk, glancing at her red and gold tie.

She linked her arm through yours and dragged you away from the desk. “Alright alright, miss intellectual, now that you’ve stopped drooling, let’s go eat.”

***

The great hall was washed in the warm light of the candles that hung beautifully in the air above you. It was a sight that had never ceased to amaze you, no matter how many times you saw it. The flames flickered in a soft dance. You followed the path of candles over to the head table where all your professors sat.

Professor Odinson was there, with his chiseled youthful face that made all the ladies, Valkyrie in particular, swoon. He was a handsome man, though he did not occupy your thoughts as often as he did for others. Beside him was Professor Sif, laughing humorously at something Professor Odinson said. Then there was Professor Fandral nodding and smiling at Professor Hogun - whom you guessed was discussing the riveting growth cycles of the mandrake.

Headmistress Frigga was in the middle, in her silvery blue robes with sequins sewn into intricate patterns. Her aura was one of a Queen, with a gentle and kind face. On her one side there was an empty seat and on the other side was Heimdall, the divination professor, with whom she was in a deep discussion with. His sunset coloured eyes drifted around the room before settling on you. He always knew. You smiled back and waved at him. He nodded, though his expression was strained, perhaps even troubled.

For a moment you wondered if he knew what you had dreamed. Heimdall was one of the greatest seers of your time, and you happened to be his favourite student. He already knew of your repetitive dreams regarding the cavern, but you needed to tell him about the strange development - and the mysterious man you saw. Most of the time your dreams were fuzzy, but you remembered his face with an aggressive lucidity. Blue eyes that reflected the green magic in his hands before they disappeared into darkness remained on your mind. You took a deep breath and pushed it away.

“Did they already do the first years?” You said aloud to your table.

Mo, a fellow seventh year Hufflepuff, nodded. “Yep, and I guessed about 25/30, not bad, eh?”

You smiled at him and turned around to Valkyrie, who was right behind you, seated at the Gryffindor table. She winked at you when delicious food marvellously populated the table and you all tucked in. She filled her plate and then roughly rocked Mo to the side and sat down beside you.

“What were you saying about Rattowl?” You said, biting into a chicken hand pie. The rich flavour of creamy peas and carrots filled your mouth, and you reveled in it for a brief moment.

Valkyrie had half a mouthful of sausage and chewed loudly. “Well, it’s been what? A month since he croaked?”

A Hufflpuff girl across from you both, Nila, balked at Valkyrie. “How can you say that? He was...killed.” She could barely say the last word.

Valkyrie gave her a look. “What? It don’t make no difference, does it?”

Nila huffed indignantly. Mo interjected. “Well, it’s not every day a professor disappears for three weeks, only to be found ripped apart in the Forbidden Forest.”

You all wrinkled your noses in a few seconds of awkward silence. He was right. It was a bizarre and terrible thing to have happened. You had no love for Professor Rattowl. He was a cranky old man with awful manners, but he did not deserve such a fate.

Valkyrie said, “Well I heard that the Headmistress’s son is going to be the new potions teacher.”

You raised your brows. “Professor Odinson has a brother?”

Valkyrie’s eyes lit up at the mention of him. “If there are two Thor Odinson’s, then I will die this very moment.”

You, Mo, and Nila rolled your eyes at her when the doors crashed open in an echoing sound. All the chatter in the Great Hall was silenced when a lean and tall figure in a black cloak strolled into the room. His languid pace revealed a streak of arrogance - or confidence - as he walked down the hall, towards the head table. He walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and slowly removed his hood.

You audibly gasped when you saw the raven haired man with his high cheekbones and proud nose. His blue eyes snapped towards you, and you felt your face heat up in seconds. He kept his eyes on you briefly before looking back at the head table. You breathed again once he was well past you.

Valkyrie looked at you questioningly. She whispered, “what’s going on?”

You could not take your eyes off of him and whispered back, “later.”

Everybody at the table rose, and Headmistress Frigga spoke with her wand pointed at her neck. “We will never forget our dear Professor Hubert Rattowl and the legacy he leaves here. The tragedy of his passing will remain a bitter memory in the long colourful history of Hogwarts. It has been a terrible time trying to fill this role, and our surprise guest has been gracious enough to accept our invitation. Professor Loki Laufeyson’s entrance may give you a taste into his exciting curriculum as the new Potions Master.” She gave him a warm smile.

He walked over to his seat and placed his hands on the table to look out at the students. There was something both inviting and dangerous about him. You could not look away.

He smiled widely and raised his hands. “Your potions saviour is here!”

The students clapped and eventually broke into applause. The Slytherin table was particularly ecstatic. There was no mistaking what house he belonged to. He looked at every table with a wide grin, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. They rested on you and your heart stopped. They flickered away, and he moved on before sitting down as the Headmistress continued her announcements.

Your hands were still clasped together in mid clap as you looked at the same man that was in your dream. His screams echoed in your mind and you wondered if this was all a nightmare. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting semester.

#loki #loki x reader #loki fics #loki (marvel)#loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki series #mcu loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #hogwarts au #thor odinson #valkyrie #Professor Loki #loki moodboard #loki of hogwarts #norse mythology

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

Text

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 6

This is my last post of the month, so I’ll end by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me.

well... im at the end of my queue (on both tumblr and patreon). havent gotten anything scheduled for december yet (im actually really busy right now and am feeling fucking exhausted. also i kinda think im more than a bit crazy to even have stuff posted almost every week), but i should be able to translate a few things this monday though there’s not going to be a lot since december is one of the few times a year i translate and post less. sorry!

anyway, enjoy? i think this is the only chapter i have translations for the “right” and “wrong” options.

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 6

Translation by KumoriYami

The festival was bustling with lively music, and it had even spread beyond the shrine, and had reached past the torii gates/entrance gate [reword later?].

The normally quiet temple courtyard had become especially lively today...

After Hijikata-san and I walked through the torii gates, we were drawn to the vibrant stalls that had been set up on both sides of the path to the shrine.

Hijikata: Having seeing this myself, there really are more people than I expected.

Yukimura: Yes. Regardless if you look to the right or the left, there's nothing but people... [Regardless of where you look, there's nothing but people].

Hijikata: There's so many people, so it'll be a pain if you get lost. Don't go anywhere without my permission.

Yukimura: I-I won't.

Just as Hijikata-san said, the shrine grounds were full of people enjoying the festival.

Although there had been a lot of people when we came in, it seemed like there were even more than before...

Yukimura: Even though this is a small festival, it's full of energy/quite lively.

Hijikata: Apparently there are many stalls here too.

Yukimura: Yes. There are many stalls you normally don't see selling handicrafts and also woodblook prints/nishiki-e... There are so many vibrant stalls here that I can't help but feel that it's as expected of the capital of Kyoto/that it's worthy of Kyoto, as its the capital [reword later?].

Hijikata: Yeah. While I prefer Edo festivals, festivals like these aren’t bad either...

...It's about time to go to the next area. I said it earlier, but] you didn't forget the purpose of our outing is to patrol, right?

Yukimura: Y-Yes. I know!

After narrowing his eyes as he warned me, Hijikata-san began to walk down the bustling path.

Don't get distracted.

Having said that, our main purpose was to guard and patrol the festival right now...

I glanced around and quickly followed Hijikata-san.

Shortly after I started walking with Hijikata-san.

When we reached the front of the shrine's main hall/hall of worship/worshipping area, there were significantly less people here/there was a drop in the amount of people/the size of the crowd had dropped quite a lot [reword?].

Hijikata; So, what do you think, Chizuru? Do you seen any suspicious people?

Yukimura: So far/For now, there doesn’t appear to be anyone suspicious/no suspicious characters have appeared.

As I made my report to Hijikata-san, while I was looking around——.

I inadvertently stopped upon seeing the box of omikuji had been placed near the worshipping area.

Yukimura: Omikuji... ?

Hijikata: What's wrong, you seem restless. Did you want to try drawing a fortune?

Yukimura: Uh.... Y-Yes, just a bit.

Hijikata: Since these opportunities rarely come by, just go on ahead.

Although these sort of things depend on your luck, don't blame me if you draw something bad.

Yukimura: I, I know...!

At HIjikata-san's urging, I walked over to omikuji that had been set up on the left and right.

Now, which omikuji one should I choose?

---------------

Selecting Option 1——Omikuji on the right side

Yukimura: Hmm... this one then.

After deliberating for a while, I reached for the omikuji on the right.

Yukimura: Please give me a good result!

Hijikata: Even if you try hard, the result will not change...

HIjikata-san's exasperated voice echoed in my ears, and I took a deep breath as I shakily reached for the omikuji.

In response to my prayer, the slip that slid out read——

——【Good fortune/luck】。

For the time being, I could relax now.

Seeing the disaster-free result, I patted my chest and looked at HIjikata-san.

Yukimura: Please look, HIjikata-san! I received a good result——

Hijikata: Then, mine is——excellent fortune/luck?

Yukimura:…………

Hijikata: How about you, Chizuru/ Chizuru, what did you get.... Uh, you do you look so upset?

Yukimura: No, it’s nothing... Rather than that, what was written on HIjikata-san's fortune/slip?

Hijikata: Health and career are good/will be fine.

Although I don't believe these sort of things, receiving a good result isn't bad.

Yukimura: Co-Congratulations.

The result I got wasn't bad either so I should be happy Hijikata-san looked happy...

I did my best to hide the complicated emotions in my heart and sighed softly.

---------------

Selecting Option 2——Omikuji on the left side

Yukimura:...On the right... No, I think the left will be luckier...

Hijikata: How long are you going to worry? I'm going to choose first.

While I was deliberating about which one to choose, HIjikata-san quickly chose the omikuji on the right.

I hurriedly picked up the omikuji on the left and shook it, and the fortune that slipped out read——

——【Excellent fortune/luck】！

I patted my chest and looked at Hijikata-san with a proud expression.

Yukimura: Look at this/Look, Hijikata-san! I got excellent luck

Hijikata:——【Terrible luck】. It seems that I’ll be continuously pushed around by other people... right.

Yukimura:…………

Hijikata:....Well, I don't believe these thing anyway, so I don’t need to worry about it.... Yes, I really don't need to worry about this.

So, what did you get? I heard you say excellent or something/something about excellent luck, right?

For some reason, Hijikata-san repeated himself twice before turning his gaze towards me.

Somehow, I felt that if I answered honestly, I would be opening myself to misfortune...

Yukimura; I, I got very normal results.

It was all I could say then as my line of sight drifted away.

---------------

Yukimura: Well then, since this is a rare opportunity, why don't we hang these onto one of the trees?

Hijikata: Speaking of which, it's said that if you hanging these onto a tree will bring you more luck.

Hijikata-san and I then looked for a suitable tree to hang our fortunes on.

Camellias, ginkgo nuts, willows and sakura trees had been planted in the courtyard...

However, even though the nearby trees were all fine/sturdy, their branches were quite high.

The height of the trees was something that HIjikata-san was barely able to reach, let alone me.

Yukimura: What should we do, Hijikata-san?

Hijikata: Would it be better to hang them on a tree that's further away? Why could go back/return back to by the road. [awkward. reword later?]

Yukimura: But I've heard doing that will reduce your blessings...

HIjikata: If you put it like that, can’t help it/nothing can be done about it then...

After softly sighing, HIjikata-san suddenly came up/moved behind me for some reason.

Before I could even ask what was happening, I felt a pair of hands touching my waist——

Then my feet slowly left the ground.

Yukimura; Hi-Hijikata-san!?

Hijikata: How is it? Is this high enough?

Hijikata-san was holding me by the waist, and had lifted me up high//lifted me up into the air.

From the perspective of an outsider, I must have looked like a child that had been lifted into the air [reword later?].

It felt like I had returned to my childhood, and my legs were shaking in a panic.

Yukimura: Pl-Please let me down! Th-This is too embarrassing...!

Hijikata: If that’s what you’re feeling, hurry up. Come on, I'm still carrying you.

I could tell that people passing by were all looking at us.

When parents with children passed by, there were children who shouted, "I also want to do that too!"...

Ashamed, I hung my fortune onto the tree with trembling hands.

Once Hijikata-san let me go, my feet finally reached the ground.

Yukimura: Uuh...

Truly, I wanted to dig a hole to hide in.

Regardless if he knew what I was feeling, Hijikata-san proceeded as if nothing had happened.

Hijikata: Why are you so dazed. Hey, we still need to go patrol so hurry up/let’s go.

Yukimura: Pl-Please wait for me!

There fortunately weren't a lot of people here...

I whispered that quietly into my heart/chest as we left.

-end of chapter-

im thinking that i might translate some 4komas since those are short... and maybe some crossover stuff?

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #hakuoki game translation #Hijikata Toshizou #Yukimura Chizuru

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ddagent · 3 years

Note

For your Valentine's Day prompt: Jaime struggles to find the perfect card for Brienne

Thank you! I’m excited to share a little romance for the first two weeks of this month. I hope you enjoy!

Stepping into her local supermarket, Brienne was suffocated by Maiden’s Day. It had long ago stopped being a celebration of innocence and purity; instead, it was now a holiday of love, relationships, and commercialism. Bouquets of roses littered the foyer of the supermarket; beyond lay boxes upon boxes of chocolates, plush bears and dragons with soppy sayings embroidered onto their stomachs, and cards extolling the most saccharine of sentiments.

“Oh, Gods.”

Her exclamation led to the two nearest shoppers turning her way and offering their best sympathetic looks. Tugging the collar of her coat closer around her neck, Brienne hustled into the store and avoided their pitying glances. Yes, she had no plans for Maiden’s Day. No, she was not seeing anyone – hadn’t been seeing anyone since the debacle with Hyle. Had she hoped something would happen with that man from the museum opening last month? Sure. But he had been a fleeting thought, a daydream. Men who looked like the Warrior reborn did not turn to Brienne to find his Maiden.

Today, all Brienne hoped to find was some stir fry vegetables for dinner and a nameday card for Catelyn; the head of the History department at KLU and Brienne’s oldest friend. However, when Brienne arrived at the cards aisle, she found it overwhelmed with ones for Maiden’s Day. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she bypassed most of them until one caught her eye.

“It’s yours,” Brienne muttered, picking up the card from the rack. It was two hand-drawn knights; the man handing over his heart to the woman. “It will always be yours. That’s...”

She trailed off. It was the sort of card she would have liked to have received had she ever been in a committed relationship come Maiden’s Day – or even in one where her partner gave a damn. Brienne’s fingertips traced the edges of the illustration. The woman knight was wearing blue armour; at her side was a sword with a lion pommel. She almost looked like—no, that would be ridiculous. Brienne turned it over. Lionheart Cards. Huh.

As Brienne put the card back, another stole her attention. “We don’t get to choose who we love,” the front of the card said, illustrated with a lonely knight atop a balcony looking out onto the sea. She opened it up and found him cuddling another knight; his white cloak surrounding them both. “But if we did, I’d choose you.”

Turning over the card, Brienne found it was another Lionheart Cards design. They were beautiful; reminiscent of Goldenhand and the Blue Knight – her favourite historical tale. She and the man from the museum opening had spent a good hour discussing their enduring love before she had been called away by Barristan, the curator. Although Brienne had no one to give them to, she found herself drawn to the designs. They were worth a keepsake at the very least.

Putting the first two in her basket, Brienne sought out any others. There was one with a raggedy-looking man on the front being dragged across a meadow by a female knight in golden armour. “I’m a prisoner.” Brienne quickly opened it. The two were bound together on a horse, smiling at each other. “Of love!”

There was another: the two knights fighting what looked like childish drawings of White Walkers. “How in Seven Hells is this a Maiden’s Day card?” Looking inside, Brienne found the rather sweet – albeit macabre – sentiment. “Not even death will stop me from loving you.”

The last one Brienne found was clearly based on Goldenhand’s rescue of the Blue Knight from the Harrenhal bearpit. She was in a torn pink gown, he was missing a hand, and there was a very grumpy bear in the corner. As Goldenhand cradled the Blue Knight in his arms, she asked, Why come back? Brienne didn’t even have to open the card to know the response. “I dreamed of you.”

As well as the inscription, however, there was also a string of eleven numbers. A production code; a misprint in the final batch. Brienne just shrugged and put the last card in her basket. She then headed for the fruit and veg aisle, picked up the necessaries for her dinner that evening, and walked over to the self-checkout. Waiting in the queue, Brienne zoned out, thinking about the curious staff at Lionheart Cards, before she was broken out of her reverie by a man arguing with the self-scan.

“It is in the bagging area, you stupid machine!” He smacked the side of it, growling. He then turned to Brienne and said, “I swear, these things save just as much time as—oh. It’s you!”

“It’s you!”

The man from the museum opening! He was just as beautiful now as he had been that evening. Dark-blonde hair falling across his eyes; a well-trimmed beard barely concealing his charming smile. Many of the attendees had been mesmerised by his appearance, Brienne included. She had not expected him to be so enthusiastic or well-informed about history; had thought him dragged to the opening by a friend or client. But he had surprised her, and their conversation had been one of the best hours of her life.

Then Barristan had called her over, and when she’d come back to the Oathkeeper exhibit, he was gone.

But here he stood. In the flesh. “I’d hoped to see you at the museum again, but you haven’t been back.”

He wanted to see her again? “Classes started back up; I’ve been swamped with work. I’m a History lecturer at KLU.”

“Of course; I understand. So, do you have a name, Professor? Something else other than a love of Goldenhand and Ser Blue I can track you down with, just in case you run off without giving me your number again?”

“Brienne.”

A spot on the self-checkouts opened up, and Brienne passed the Warrior to put her shopping through at the farthest end. Her face aflame; she focussed on checking out her groceries and not on the way his bottle-green gaze lingered. As she went to the payment screen, he sidled up to her. His eyes widened at the sight of five Maiden’s Day cards in her bagging area.

“Lots of admirers, Professor Brienne?”

Her flush deepened. “No. I just—”

“—what, not even one?” he said, leaning against the self-scan until he lost his balance, half-fell into the bagging area, and set off a whole heap of alarms. “Sorry.” He turned to the unimpressed attendant. “Sorry.”

Brienne chuckled. “The–the cards, they’re not really for anyone; I just like the designs. I think you would, too: they’re Goldenhand and the Blue Knight.”

“Really?” His eyes sparkled. “Anything...interesting inside?” When her brow furrowed, he changed topic. “Would you like to get dinner with me tonight? Or tomorrow, if those vegetables won’t keep.”

“I always get items with good sell-by-dates,” Brienne said, in lieu of accepting this handsome and sweet man’s offer of dinner. Mentally kicking herself, she nodded. “Dinner would be lovely.”

“Great. Good. Great.”

After paying, they walked out of the supermarket together. Brienne was suddenly struck by something. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Jaime. My name’s Jaime.”

“And what do you do, Jaime?”

His leonine grin made her stomach flutter. “I design greeting cards.”

#braime #jaime x brienne #ship: braime #mine: paragraph prompts #bring on v day prompts #Anonymous

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ninappon · 3 years

Text

Tag Game! Tagged by two sweet peeps, @nakey-cats-take-bathsss & @togetherkru. Thank you ladies 😘

1. Why did you choose your url?

I was creating a sort of travel/life blog and wanted a name that connected me to Japan since I was studying there at the time. I asked around for suggestions and someone came up with a mash-up of my name, Nina, and Nippon (Japan in japanese), resulting in ninappon. Now I use this for all my various accounts :)

2. Any side blogs?

Not on here, no. My travel blog is probably dormant somewhere, I haven't checked it for a few years...

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I don't even remember! Probably since sometime around 2008, or maybe even when tumblr was brand new. I was probably only active for a few months, and then I came back here a little over a year ago when I started reading fanfics and noticed that many writers had their blogs here.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Honestly, I've been wondering for ages about various people's different queue tags and what they meant!! This question here made me realize that it's used for queuing a post for a later time... right?!

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

To use as a sort of journal I guess. I'm disappointed that I didn't keep it up to be honest, I miss writing but I never felt like I had much to write about. These days I'm only reblogging things and doing tag games.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I wanted something that showed off a little of who I am without being an actual profile pic.

7. Why did you choose your header?

As with the icon, I wanted something that reflects a little of what I like/what I'm drawn to, so I chose a flower photo I took a few years ago. Flowers, sunshine and pastels, that's my jam!

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

One of my photography posts of flowers, haha! ☝️

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Oh, I haven't counted but there's a bunch of wonderful people who I'm very glad to have connected with through the bellarke fandom! Seeing a notification from a mutual always brightens my day 💕

10. How many followers do you have?

Hm, not sure. I don't think the number I see is accurate, and I have a bunch of pornbots following me as well. My guess is around 25?

11. How many people do you follow?

Tumblr says 60, but again I don't think this is accurate. Maybe 30-40?

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

No? Not even sure what that is.

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

Probably around two times a day, unless I'm trying to do a tag game on my breaks while at work then the number goes way up 😂

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

No, thank goodness!

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

I want to support creators if I can, but sometimes I feel like I reblog way too many posts so I also try to keep the number down.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes! Don't hesitate to send them my way!

17. Do you like ask games?

Yes, but I can find it really difficult to answer those questions so I have only done it once or twice. I also don't have that many followers so usually it feels unnecessary to even try since not many will see it anyway.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I've always been in awe of @nakey-cats-take-bathsss, @togetherkru and @burninghoneyatdusk and their creations that they post here, so I'll go with them!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I'm sorta copying both Leah and Phanou here but I'd say I have a few "friend crushes"! I've met so many lovely mutuals through tumblr and I think it'd be nice to meet them and see if we hit it off in real life as well. You know, if distance and my social anxiety wasn't an issue.

20. No-pressure tags: @infp-with-all-the-feelings, @bookwormforalways, @heartbellamy, @moreflowersthanweeds, @burninghoneyatdusk, @igotbellarkeforthat, @bellamyblake, @excuseyouclarke, @talistheintrovert, @kinetic-elaboration & @helloeurydice 👋

#tag games #about me #thanks for tagging me!#lovely mutuals 💕#i think i finally solved the queue mystery

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mrs-hatake · 4 years

Text

900 followers prompt list!!

We just hit 900 followers on this blog and I’m honestly so speechless! Thank you everyone for loving and supporting this blog ❤️

In celebration, I decided to make a prompt list for all of you authors and inspiring authors to help you write wether you’re on a writer’s block or aren’t sure what to write exactly. I will track this via aizawakashi prompts.

So, without further ado, here’s the prompt list!

All fandom:

- You return home after a long day at work and your character interest showers you in kisses and pampers you the whole day with your favorite food and cuddles with you watching your favorite movie.

- Day at the beach! You and your character interest head to the beach for the weekend to relax and flee from the hectic city life.

- 7 minutes in heaven!! Bored with nothing to do, you recommend playing 7 minutes in heaven with your (multi) character interest.

- Surprising your husband at work by bringing them their lunch or desserts because you know they’ve been working very hard lately and you just want to cheer them up.

- Masquerade ball au! You are invited to a masquerade ball. Alone and nervous, a handsome and mysterious man offers to dance with you. You are charmed by him and slowly start to crush on him. You were to kiss but suddenly, the clock stuck midnight and he vanishes. Disappointed, you look for him everywhere for months. And when you find him, you discover that he was a [insert favorite mythical creature] and offers you to join him for all of eternity.

- Meeting your parents au! After being together for a long time, it was finally time to introduce your boyfriend to your family. You were anxious that they wouldn’t get along but were surprised when they did! Later that night, your mother pulls you to the side and said that she thinks he would be the perfect husband.

- Haunted house au! Queue the funny montage scenes. Lots of hand holding and hiding behind each other.

Naruto:

- You challenge your crush Naruto to a ramen eating contest. Kiba and Shikamaru bet that Naruto would win while Sai, ino and Sakura bet their money on you. The winner is up to you.

- Kakashi cries after spending an hour teaching his son new words. Worried, you rush to the room only to find your son giggling at his dad while Kakashi is in a state of crying and laughing. Concerned, you asked your husband if he was okay. He replied that his son just kept making mistakes and it was the cutest thing ever and Kakashi didn’t know how to deal with such cuteness.

- Wanting to help Neji with his rebellious phase, you give him an all goth/emo makeover. Piercings, tattoos, ripped jeans, the whole work. You teach him to have fun and let loose. Hiashi is angry, forbids him from seeing you but Neji stands up for himself, fights for you and for his freedom. Hiashi reconsiders.

- While on watch on a mission, Sai couldn’t sleep and was entranced by your beauty so he decided to do a quick sketch of you while you watched over your team as they slept, not knowing that Sai was awake.

- Kakashi introduces you to his dogs and waits for their approval. You take this very seriously as you want to impress them because they were his family.

- Seducing Shikamaru while dancing at the club. You two have been flirting for a while, making empty promises of showing each other a good time. After a long mission where the sexual tension between you was high, you finally decided to do something about it.

- Cooking date with Itachi! You help Itachi cook dinner with him and it’s so soft and very cute. You both have a great time and you become so emotional seeing how happy and relaxed Itachi was being.

- Hidan is a guitarist from this new rock band, Akastuki. You have a huge crush on him and one day, you bump into him as he was running away from his rabid fans so you help him escape and hide into this small local cafe that barely had any customers.

One Piece:

- Law was being grumpy because the straw hats decided to stop at a winter island. His and Luffy’s crew were all having fun building snowmen, igloos and making snow angels. You wanted him to join and have fun for once so you took a handful of snow and hit Law straight in the face. A snowball fight commences.

- Zoro gets separated from the straw hats while at a tropical island and wanders off to a small village deep in the forest. He finds you, the village dancer, and is hypnotized by the sway of your body and the teasing gleam in your eyes. He was enjoying himself when, suddenly, criminals raided your village and as he came to your rescue, he was surprised to know that you were strong and were a skilled [insert weapon talent here] and was very impressed...and turned on.

- A beautiful girl joins the straw hats and, for once, Sanji wasn’t attracted. He doesn’t flirt with her, doesn’t call her any terms of endearments and won’t even glance her way. You two would constantly fight and argue and everyone has had enough of your shirt. The straw hats lock you up in a room until you work things out. You were surprised that Sanji treated you this way because he had never had a serious crush on someone and didn’t know how to process his emotions.

- Ace meets Tama’s older sister while at Wano. He was drawn to your kindness and dedication to restore your village. A short romance affair between you began, and he offered you to join Whitebeard but refused because you had to take care of your sister. You were devastated when Luffy told you what happened to Ace.

- Luffy falls in love with a female chef. He was so in love with your cooking that he said your food was better than Sanji. Queue a cooking battle between you and the blonde chef. Luffy was the judge and you both worked very hard to impress the judge. Of course, Luffy being Luffy declares the both of you as winners. You and Sanji become best friends.

My Hero Academia:

- Aizawa runs into his college ex-girlfriend and was baffled to see her working with the League of Villains, and worse, is Dabi’s girlfriend. He blames himself and doesn’t know if he can fight you or not since he still had feelings for you. Their reason for their break up is up to you.

- Dabi is infatuated with a fiery quirkless civilian who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit. She doesn’t really care about the whole hero vs villain thing and Dabi is just interested in her mindset and philosophy. The two work together and reader offers him a place to stay and heal his wounds after encountering heroes.

- While working with LoV, Hawks is drawn to villain reader who has a quirk similar to poison ivy who is also working as a double spy against the superheroes. The two team up and they’re the strongest, most feared team anyone has ever encountered.

- Reader is Overhaul’s childhood best friend and own personal nurse. She is just as ruthless and evil as Overhaul but something in Eri’s eyes and gentle aura softens her up. She struggles between helping Eri and being loyal to Overhaul.

- Aizawa’s mom has been nagging for him to get married for almost ten years now. she wasn’t getting any younger and wanted grandkids as soon as possible. Understanding his friend’s stress and frustration, Hizashi comes up with a plan of getting Aizawa into a fake relationship with reader who works as a support teacher. Queue awkward encounters, kissing in front of Aizawa’s mom and Aizawa retelling the story of how the two of you started dating.

- Dabi wonders what’s it like to be a civilian and live a normal life. He hides his scars with make up and cleans up his looks to blend in with society and live a normal life. During his experiment, he meets reader with a low rank ice quirk who works at an ice cream parlor. No one knows of his double life and frankly, Dabi doesn’t know if he wants to return back to being a villain, especially when he started developing feelings for the reader.

#aizawakashi prompts #one piece imagine #naruto imagines #bnha imagine #Kakashi x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #naruto x reader #neji x reader #Shikamaru x Reader #sai x reader #aizawa x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader

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puttingfingerstokeys · 3 years

Text

A little something I whipped up for @heamatic with her Shinnok in mind.

No timeline alignment stuff here, just pure gift work based on a thread we’ve got on my RP account @bastardsunlight. Ft. Shinnok being creepy because that’s kind of his thing. Shinlao, because we haven’t come up with a ship name and I am appalled at our laxity.

Also like, I can’t believe I’m saying this but neither writer is in any way under some fucked up impression that this is a good, safe, or non-toxic ship. We use the term to describe people who are involved IN SOME WAY. That way is not necessarily healthy.

This story features no NSFW instances.

The dimly lit corridors of the Bone Temple are familiar passageways to Kung Lao as he moves effortlessly toward the audience chamber where he will soon be needed. Shinnok does not often offer his time, but today, he evidently feels generous. It is therefore his favorite creature’s duty to attend as well. Lao has long since stopped thinking of himself as a monk or even a former one, though his spiritual power is still formidable. That life is behind him. Netherrealm is—if not his home—his territory.

Emerging from a massive double door at one side of the infernal hall, he surveys the emptiness of it, the cavernous opulence of the mad god’s particular tastes. Deeper, under vents in the floor—Shinnok appreciates the screams of his captives—is the dungeon proper, though the audience hall very much resembles it. The high pillars are of dark reds, shining obsidian, and shot through with veins of other colors difficult to distinguish in the Stygian light of the realm of dishonored dead. Everything is bone and sinew and suffering here, fire and brimstone and ugly deception.

“You have kept me waiting, little one,” purrs the Elder God of Chaos from his throne. It is, naturally, constructed of bones—not all humanoid. He leans to one side and regards Kung Lao with those inscrutable eyes characteristic of his kind. “Do you wish to bring punishment down on yourself?”

“No, master,” responds Kung Lao, approaching the dais and then ascending to within reach of the massive entity’s long arms. If Shinnok wishes to pull his guts out and toss him back down like a used doll, he may do so from anywhere; why inconvenience him?

“Yet you offer no explanation…” The Elder God’s finger came out and lifted Kung Lao’s chin before sliding down his neck, over the pretty young man’s Adam’s apple, and down to collar bone and chest. He has left this one alive, appreciating the responsive heat and goose flesh of living skin. It bruises so prettily.

“I offer no excuse, my lord.” Kung Lao meets his eyes with an impertinence he loves and hates and oh he has made the right choice in this one. He had known the moment they met upon the field of kombat that Kung Lao would, indeed, make an excellent addition to his collection.

“You are wise beyond your years, it seems, if a bit pert.” Shinnok retracts his hand and waves it about. “Well, get on with it. I’ve better things to do.”

Quan-Chi materializes presently, late as well, though his arrival receives no acknowledgement whatsoever. His dark lord spares not a glance, instead watching the retreating back of the foolish monk who exchanged his own freedom for the life of his friend. Sentiment is worthless in Netherrealm and soon, the arrogant boy will learn this, if the old soul sorcerer must show him the way with his own two hands. His fists clench with the thought, imagining themselves about Kung Lao’s throat, squeezing until something breaks. The pleasure that arises from the thought sends a shudder down his spine.

Meanwhile, Kung Lao, unaware of this contemplation—or if he is aware, he cares so little, he doesn’t bother sparing the man, if a thing like Quan-Chi can be called a man, a single glance—turns to descend the dais. An oversized bone arm which has sprouted from the stone and bone floor of the mad god’s receiving hall offers itself, open-palmed, to the fallen monk. Kung Lao accepts it gracefully, laying his hand in the much larger one, knowing he has not displeased his lord on this day. The dry, brittle-feeling digits wrap gently about the young man’s hand as he makes his graceful retreat to discharge his duties.

Quan-Chi scowls at Kung Lao’s back until Shinnok actually turns his attention on his favored sorcerer—really the only sorcerer who will competently serve him with true, deep loyalty. It really is pathetic to watch, but sometimes a whipped dog is better than no dog. Shinnok has not even had to whip this one. He’s done it of his own accord.

A strange Netherrealm native (as native as anyone can be in a realm of dishonored souls and demonic constructs born of the mad god’s fits of rage), it had been he who had approached the Elder God of rot and chaos to serve him. If Lord Shinnok could be said to be grateful for anything, he might have chosen that moment when Quan-Chi’s power had drawn him to his lord and master’s prison and set about events which would eventually free and embody him. Of course they have greater plans, but for the time being, this will do.

This will do very nicely indeed, he considers, regarding his little pet’s taut backside as Kung Lao makes his way through the hall, the bone arm now sliding along with him, digging a furrow in the ground which seems to knit itself together just a few feet behind the abomination which now has its hand on the curve of Kung Lao’s lower back. Every sensation the bone arm feels, he also feels and the warmth of living flesh is delightful; he wants to grasp it hard, make the boy squeal with pain, make him bleed a little. Just a little.

Perhaps later.

“You have some… news?” Quan-Chi has been scheming—he is always scheming—to manifest his dark, mad god in Earthrealm and he clearly believes he has hit upon something. Shinnok can see it in the sparkle of the man’s eyes. Oh how he loves me, contemplates the Elder God with absolutely no reciprocity of that feeling.

“I do, my lord,” responds the sorcerer, bowing to one knee and standing to deliver his findings. Shinnok listens patiently, mind elsewhere as it must always be. He is chaos incarnate. There is little order to be had in Netherrealm beyond his absolute rule. Not much can hold the attention of an Elder God, in general, but Shinnok in particular has always allowed his mind to wander where it will. Aside from grand machinations of upset and overthrow which delight him endlessly, there is almost nothing of such magnitude in all of existence—no single object or concept which can so fascinate him. What could possibly be of such import that he, a deity, might need to focus his energies on it for any length of time? The boy, some part of his thoughts remind him sweetly. You’re quite captivated with your new toy, aren’t you? Ah but toys come and go. He will tire of this one… eventually.

That boy is now crossing the threshold of the temple’s audience hall, the doors gliding open before him. The dry heat of Netherrealm has ceased to move him and he walks out into it, ushering in the first petitioner, wondering if his lord and master will listen to this one, or slay it on sight. Any creature, demon, or lost soul who is bold enough to approach the Bone Temple and beg favors of the lord of the Realm is desperate, addled, or too cocksure for their own good. An obliteration by the death god is permanent, it is nothingness, non-existence. Somehow, that void is more terrifying by far than the screaming, burning, howling dimness of Netherrealm.

The first demon in line—he is first by virtue of having killed his way up the queue; the corpses of those before him are littered in pieces here and there as a testament to this, all still twitching and flailing as the death he grants is only pain—is a truly imposing figure, easily ten feet in height, with massive, twisted horns like a ram and a maw full of jagged teeth. His eyes ablaze with contempt. This expression does not soften when it lays its burning gaze (with all four eyes) upon the pretty, behatted monk—Kung Lao may not think of himself as a monk, but they do—but rather hardens to something bordering on obscene. The thing licks slavering lips with an exaggerated motion, clearly aiming to upset the small, soft-looking mortal, who does not respond, only gestures to the hall.

“The master will see you now,” he says in a neutral tone that betrays nothing. “Please, follow me.”

As they enter, the beast’s three-toed feet hit the ground much harder with each step than might actually be necessary, as if to emphasize his weight. Shinnok leans back upon his throne and assumes a semi-attentive posture. There is no real reason for him to pretend he cares; even the pretense is worthless, but for now, it entertains him. Some of the denizens of his realm wait the Netherrealm equivalent of months, even years, if Shinnok is indisposed and simply does not care. Lately, he has been taking more audiences, but then he has only lately had a… secretary. Kung Lao moves swiftly ahead of the demon, braid swinging tantalizingly behind his shapely back. The boy is an hourglass, upon close inspection, broad of shoulder, narrow of waist, and thick of hip and rear-end. The demon is inspecting.

“This is far enough,” instructs Kung Lao. “What are you called?”

The demon splutters with indignation. How could they not know him, the greatest general of the northern armies of Khadul, the god-king of the demons, the true creatures of Netherrealm! He has severely overestimated his importance, a grave error in the Bone Temple. The silent hall rings with its silence. An audience chamber ought necessarily to have an audience, but Shinnok prefers the cavernous immensity. It reiterates just how small his petitioners truly are. He eyes the demon, but has yet to speak. A bone arm sprouts near Kung Lao and it makes a twirling motion with its forefinger.

“Lord Shinnok bids you speak,” says the shapely boy through plump lips that look like they ought to be bruised and bloodied and used, in the creature’s foul opinion.

“I will speak,” he snarls, reaching out toward Kung Lao with the intent to brush past, “but with the lord of this Realm, he in whose temple we stand, not you, little slut. There are things I would do with you, yes, but speaking… it is not one of them.” The demon’s laughter rings out boldly into the hall, bouncing off the skulls and femurs and ribs and myriad other bones which make the walls, floor, and ceiling. Quan-Chi flinches minutely, though more at the brazenness of it than the sound. Shinnok is a statue. The bone arm has dissipated, crumbling like ash and ruin, leaving Lao alone. His lord is watching.

“No,” says Kung Lao, the syllable sharp and clear as a pretty bell rung in a mausoleum—and equally as incongruous next to the obscene, guttural speech of the demon. “No,” he repeats, “you do not speak. You bark like a mangy cur begging for scraps. Heel.”

He rushes the demon with lightning speed as it swings for him. There is a brief moment when it seems he might make a try for the beast’s sizeable testes, which swing visibly behind the scant loincloth one might say he is “wearing”. The idea occurs to him and a strange flash of melancholic amusement jolts Kung Lao’s spine before he disappears beneath his hat in a flash of red light and lotus petals. The creature, having never encountered this particular mortal, looks baffled and squats to examine the hat. Quan-Chi’s mouth opens to warn the beast of its insolence in his master’s presence, but a sharp gesture from said master silences him. His face heats with rage. How dare the boy show off this way? He will be punished—perhaps disemboweled or flayed. How delicious that would be!

As the as yet unnamed demon reaches toward the object to pick it up, the flash occurs once more and the deadly piece of headwear flips upward, turning vertically, its far edge held by the owner, the only man in any realm able to master such a strange weapon. The creature barely has time to cry out as Kung Lao draws the hat up its entirety, bisecting the thing and spilling its steaming insides along the floor. Midair, Kung Lao flings the hat, hard, toward Shinnok. Once more, Quan-Chi blanches, but the mad god catches it easily and holds it, bottom facing downward, toward his knees where he sits. This, he thinks, is the most fun I have had in millennia.

Kung Lao’s form plummets toward the gory mess he has made and for a brief, shining moment, Quan-Chi thinks perhaps he will fall and snap his neck and that will be that, one last escape attempt with the final spark of the monk’s spirit left to him. Lord Shinnok has no need of a broken doll. Of course this is a flight of pure fancy. Shinnok will find a use for that beautiful body, even broken.

Alas, rather than crashing to his death—or maiming, at least—Kung Lao’s body dives into a circle of blood, red light, once more accompanied by a flash and flurry of lotus petals. It takes only half a moment for him to repeat the trick, falling out of the hat and into his lord and master’s waiting lap. Shinnok allows the hat to settle upon Kung Lao’s head and once more tilts his chin upward so that their eyes meet.

“Far too impertinent,” he scolds, shaking his head, running his thumb over his little doll’s full, perfect, soft lower lip. Kung Lao is flushed with the pleasure of his accomplishment and hasn’t a spot of blood on his person. “Who are you to decide who I do and do not address, hmm? Is this not my domain?”

“His master would pretend it is not. One cannot serve two lords and you rule this Realm.” This is not a question, nor is it simpering. Kung Lao speaks cold, hard facts. “I merely saved you the trouble of hearing a dog bark.”

So bold, Shinnok thinks. I must curb this. But he does not punish his little favorite. The unpredictability delights him. Quan-Chi senses this misplaced delight and recedes from the receiving hall unseen, glowering over his shoulder and now hellbent on perfecting his machinations to bring his master to Earthrealm.

#violence #cc #cw #mortal kombat #kung lao #shinnok #shinlao #gift work

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rhea-florent · 3 years

Text

The Dorne-Reach alliance banquet

Location: The Vale, the Eyrie

Under the cut you will find Rhea’s interaction at the Dorne-Reach banquet with Riyansh Martell ( @riyanshmartell ), Cedric Tyrell ( @visxionaries ), Harlon Flowers ( @harlonvflowers ), Eleyana Martell ( @eleyanamrtll ), Luciya Rowan ( @tendcrheart ), Myriam Allyrion ( @myriamas ), Florence Hightower ( @florencehightower ), Mathis Rowan ( @ofgoldengrove ), Helena Tyrell ( @helenatyrells ), Ryon Blackmont ( @ofthedunes ), Noor ( @ofclairvoyance ), Guinevere Lannister ( @gcuienveres ), Ophelia Fowler ( @opheliafowler ), Dastan Allyrion ( @dastan-allyrion ), Loreza Martell ( @lorczamartell ), Addam Lannister ( @addamoflannisport ) & Alyvia Lannister ( @alyvialannister )

A private banqueting hall in the Eyrie had been draped in decorations of orange and olive green, the dining table laid out with speciality meats, cheese, sides and fruits imported directly from their respective regions. The wine is free flowing, ranging from sweet Arbor wine to bitter Dornish red, with nobles from the Reach and Dorne sat upon velvet cushions, engaging in conversations. it is a scene that one would once have thought impossible; for flowers and sand to ever come together - and yet, together, the nobles start a new chapter of Westerosi history.

RIYANSH MARTELL: The Dornish Prince entered the hall graciously provided to them by King Rowan, given the intimacy of the matter an invitation could not be extended to the Arryns that evening. With Myriam and Nyssaria beside him that evening, Riyansh felt content despite being so far from home. Seeking out the Prince Regent Riyansh went forth to the greet the man. “Prince Cedric, I am glad we were able to arrange this gathering on such short notice.”

CEDRIC TYRELL: The Reach faction had arrived somewhat earlier than the Dornish, pushing open the heavy oak doors of the private banqueting hall and taking their seats, Cedric watched his sister from the corner of his eye; still draped in black, widowing the loss of her most recent child. As the Dornish Prince approached the man, Cedric offered the man an inviting smile, standing and shaking the man's hand before nodding to his two wives on either side of him. “The feeling is mutual, Prince Riyansh. It is good to finally discuss matters prior to the signing of the treaties, and travelling back home - though you are welcome to join us in the Reach should you wish to make a stop during your long journey home.” Dropping the hand shake, he looked toward his wife and his sister, as well as the other Reach nobles in the room: those that had been through hell and back with him in recent months. “May I present my family and my most trusted...”

HARLON FLOWERS: Much like he had been in the weeks prior, Harlon found his spot trailing behind Cedric as he walked. Ready to be there by his and Mathias side in case he needed to share his thoughts and opinions. Actually he was rather touched to be invited to such an exclusive event. Dressed up in some of the newest Reach fashion, it felt nice to hopefully enjoy a nice evening. Sure talks of politics and treaties were important but the spread on the table looked absolutely amazing. And his fingers itched for his sketch book in his pocket at the sight of the people in attendance. On his arm, he escorted in his friend Rhea to the party and he leaned over to whisper “How many glasses of wine do you think would be too much?” he asked before they reached one of the other guests of honors. Giving a slight bow as he was introduced. “Harlon flowers” he said simply. “It's an honor to meet you, your Grace. I look forward to speaking with you and your family more.” That actually sounded somewhat proper. maybe he was getting the knack of this.

RHEA FLORENT: The Mistress of Whispers walked only a few paces behind her cousin, escorted by Harlon. She inched closer, whispering in return “Too much for you or too much for me?”. A single raised eyebrow indicated that those quantities were very different in her mind. A pleasant smile quickly graced her lips as the Reach retinue approached the Martell prince. The lady bowed her head in a graceful manner before introducing herself after Cedric gave them their cue to do so. “Rhea Florent, your Grace. I had the pleasure of meeting your sister, Princess Eleyana, before. I'm glad that I get to formally meet you as well”.

ELEYANA MARTELL: Eleyana trailed behind her brother, wine-stained silks kissing the stone flooring as she walked into the hall. With such an unprecedented alliance, the princess could hardly prepare herself for what was to happen. All she knew was that the reach was hardly threatening to them since their new allegiance. She looked over at Ophelia with a knowing stare, like they already knew what types of behaviors would be present with everyone in one room. “This should be interesting,” she smirked at her friend before joining the rest. As if on queue a charming smile spread on her lips and she approached a familiar face. She wondered if the rest knew of the the words shared between the princess and the mistress of whispers. “Rhea? What a nice surprise to see you here.”

LUCIYA ROWAN: If the Dornish were anything besides unpredictable it was impractical. At least, to what Westeros had established as “normal.” That was evident with the two women standing on either side of the Martell prince. She was not going to judge, at least not out loud. Even more now considering that her brother was soon to be betrothed to a Martell. Loreza seemed nice enough, though the times she had seen her were few and never where she supposed the princess should be. Her gaze lifts just in time to meet Cedric’s and eyebrows furrow instantly, tongue poking out childishly to mimic disgust. Why on Earth was he looking at her like that? Luciya doesn’t linger with her antics, quick smile claiming doll like features almost instantly to ensure no one else saw her mockery. The youngest Rowan stands, smiling delicately as her turn for introductions. “Luciya Rowan, nearly sister to the prince, family - I suppose.” She’s lighthearted, though she seems composed. “It is a pleasure, Prince Riyansh.”

MYRIAM ALLYRION: Tangerine coloured silks swishing around the golden anklets at her feet, her hair laying on one side of her shoulder in a thick braid dotted with red roses, Myriam Allyrion rested her dark gaze over multiple of the Reach lords and ladies. How they all seemed so sweet, so flowery, and yet she was one of the few of the Dornish faction that was not entirely on board with the matter completely. There were still people to work out, intentions to gather. “Your Highness.” Myriam extended a hand toward the young Hightower girl, only recently risen so far in station - she intrigued her. “We have all heard of your sudden elopement with the prince.” She looked over at the Tyrell and her own husband speaking, with a slight smile. “I trust we will find a way to get along, for the sake of our kingdoms. Tell me, how are you finding your new life? Exciting?”

FLORENCE HIGHTOWER: Deciding to wear a dark emerald green dress made out of some of the finest silks that the Vale could offer on such notice -- in fact, her gown was surely the most expensive piece of fabric she’s owned in her entire life – Florence Hightower stood quietly next to Cedric Tyrell, the Reach’s new regent. Tonight was one of her first public appearances since their elopement and she was already feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She remained mostly silent, fearful of saying something that could unintentionally jeopardize this potential alliance. She was aware of the great advantage this alliance could bring the Reach and it’s people – now her people. Florence mirrors Myriam allyrion’s gesture, extending her own hand towards her as she follows her gaze that was directed towards their husbands. “Absolutely,” she answers in response to getting along, “And if I may be honest,” she replies, her voice lowered in attempt to not be overheard, “exciting is the last word I would use to describe it, but I am trying my best.” She lowers her head out of respect to the woman, giving her a small, polite smile.

MATHIS ROWAN: Mathis felt his heart racing, a feeling that didn't usually overcome him. However, this was his first formal event as Cedric's Hand, and while he was confident in himself, he knew he had to watch every word from now on. On top of that, his family would all be in the same room for the first time in a long time, and on top of that his potential future family was as well. He greeted Riyansh with Cedric as well, letting Cedric take the lead on the conversations before his eyes drifted to none other than Helena Lannister, formerly Helena Tyrell. She was a vision, even in all black, a look that made his heart ache to see. As much as he wanted to talk to and perhaps comfort her, he knew that wasn't on his agenda for the evening. He hoped he might catch her before the night ended.

HELENA TYRELL: Helena found herself instinctively standing closer to the outskirts of the hall, not able to find the energy inside herself to force a fake smile and engage in pleasantries as their guests began to wander in. She was starting to regret her decision to attend tonight’s meeting, but given that this alliance would act as one of the founding acts of her younger brother’s new reign, she felt she couldn’t miss it. She was also surprised to see her good sister also in attendance tonight -- though it most likely meant what she feared most was coming to fruition; that she was still not trusted by the lions and that her marriage was likely failing. Her orbs were suddenly drawn to the main entrance, her eyes fixating on the man who had just entered the room. Mathis Rowan. She watched him attentively, noticing the tense demeanour that seemed to wash over him; he was nervous. She forced herself to resist her urge to storm over to his side and reassure him with what she knew all along: that there wasn’t a better man fit to be her brother’s hand.

RYON BLACKMONT: The lord of Blackmont walked in beside his sister Eleyana Martell, offering her a small knowing look as he listened to Riyansh and Cedric sussing out the formalities. He didn't speak to any of the Reach lords or ladies, instead sat quietly at the table, simply taking a gulp of his bitter red wine and turning slightly, angling his body towards his betrothed, dressed in her signature shade of white. The pair had gotten into a disagreement some hours earlier, regarding what their family would look like, which left him doubting she would even show up.

NOOR: The art of disappearing in plain sight was no small feat, and perhaps only possible for someone like her, someone who had spent most of her life neither truly seen or heard, glossed over as entirely unremarkable. However, the young woman had never fretted over the fact, as you could never yearn for something you had no understanding for either. The little attention Lord Blackmont paid for his means too was still startling to her at times. Though that did put her in the perfect position to see more than most. And she did just that after she’d faded into the shadows of the room, the shadows a comfort like none other for they were of her kin. The asshai by the shadow, if she was her mother’s daughter. There was once a time when her mother would question how this child of hers seemed to have so much buried light within her, perhaps she’d have been more proud to know that light was never unearthed. Her soft eyes took in the room and the threads weaving through it, where they caught and where they pulled away. Many times her gaze drifted to her liege, the tension between him and his intended palpable, and she sighed softly for she sensed no relish lay in store for him that evening. She could be wrong, she hoped she was.

OPHELIA FOWLER: This was certainly a change from the battlefields they were all just recently thrust into. Ophelia was just grateful that they'd be making their way back home soon enough. Even in all her travels to help people and the amazing places that she got to see, she always longed to be back in the comfort of Dorne. Tonight was a night she hoped would be a celebration of the new alliances and treaties. “Interesting is just another word for exciting!” she chimmed in with a smile to Eleyana as she walked in with her friend. “And new people and new things is always exciting.” Following with her friend to the passing of cordigal greetings, Ophelia recognized a few of the men there from her time in the camps. But she couldn't remember if she had healed any of them personally. Finding a moment of quiet she spoke up, “Ophelia Fowler” she said introducing herself to the rest of the Reach party. “I am sure my family will be happy to start to open the prince's pass to the Reach.” she said looking over to the rest of the Martells and her cousin, however he was busy, hoping she hadn't spoken out of turn. She was a healer at heart, not someone who was so involved in politics. “Oh..well I mean, with new talks of negotiations I hope this brings some peace between us all.”

DASTAN ALLYRION: A dinner with family and friends was a very welcomed event for the lord of Godsgrace. After the journey to escort Eleyana here, he wanted the time spent in the company of those dear to him. It was all about politics tonight, of course, as he knew it would be. Proprietary still needed to be upheld. And these people from the Reach- he should do his best to know more about their ways if everything continued to move forward regarding his future union to Lady Sofina Merryweather. Her presence was missed, he had to admit. Dastan stood by his family’s side, his father visibly absent, his mother as gracious and kind as ever when she exchanged words with the Reach folk. After the formality of introductions ended and Prince Riyansh called for everyone to take their seats at the large table, Dastan did so, eyes inevitably scanning the banquet hall for Eleyana.

RIYANSH MARTELL: As he was met with a procession of greetings from so many new faces, the odd thought struck the Prince. Was this sort of tiresome formality what kept his father so content to remain far from the affairs of Westeros. And if so it could be said that Riyansh had inherited that much from his father, where the rest of him most believed to be of his mothers. “Thank you for the gracious offer, I’m sure there shall be many occasions for us to gather again in time.” The prince bowed his head respectfully at the members of the Reach that stepped forward in greeting, providing sentiments of his pleasure at making their acquaintance, and other responses much of the same. He went on to introduce Nyssaria and Asra with the respect they garnered being his closest confidants along with Myriam. Her stepping forward to greet Cedric’s new bride with such ease prompted the gracious smile he wore to soften for just that moment when his gaze shifted to her, no one could observe the man and doubt his open and unadultered devotion to either of the two beautiful woman in his company. “I look forward to getting to know all of course further. Come let us sit.” He said addressing the Prince Regent as others wondered into conversations of their own.

CEDRIC TYRELL: Nodding graciously, the Prince of the Reach allowed the Dornish man to take a lead at the table, sitting opposite Riyansh Martell and looking around at his courtiers, all of whom seemed to naturally take their according seats at the table; he was surprised to see how effortlessly this seemed to be taking place, how little tension seemed to sweep over them. He noticed Florence speaking to the Dornish Princess, and was somewhat surprised; though he could tell she was nervously. Brushing past his wife slightly, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder for a quick moment, he took his place at the table. Though as his gaze wandered over to the Lord of Blackmont, he knew this peace could easily be put short; and very quickly, judging by the man's temper and what he saw of him during their interactions in the Riverlands.

“There is a matter I think we should all discuss.” Cedric began as a serving girl began to pour goblets of wine, looking directly at the Dornish Prince, his wives, and his sisters, before looking over at his own courtiers. They knew what they would bring up first; the biggest threat to the Reach as of this moment. “I trust you have heard rumours of a dragon nestling in our realm, beside the Red Lake.” He paused, looking over their reactions; how the Dornish had a history with dragons. “It is wild, untamed, and a threat to the fertile fields that promise to feed both the Reach and Dorne in times of hardship. It is Dorne, that never bent to dragons, and it Dorne that has the weaponry to rid the world of that threat.”

He looked over at Riyansh, though a glimmer of crimson red caught his attention for a split moment; Alyvia Rowan came into his vision, with her husband Addam Lannister at her side - a man he knew from his time spent fighting in the Westerlands for the Greens. Keeping her gaze for a moment, he tore his gaze away, though continued. “I am sure neither of us wish to see our loved ones, or our realms, perish to dragon flame again.”

HARLON FLOWERS: Harlon couldn't help but chuckle at the words Rhea whispered back to him. And after the formal greetings were done and they were making their way to the tables, he felt like he was able to respond back. “I'll have to know if this wasn't such an important meeting I might put you up to the test on that.” he said, pulling the chair out for her to take a seat. He knew what they were coming here to discuss was no joking matter. It was going to be of great importance and something that would change the kingdoms around them. Taking his seat he noticed he was sat across from one of the Martell princesses. And he could not help himself as they waited for the discussions to begin. "Good evening your Highness.” he said learning across to speak with Eleyana. “You look very beautiful tonight. I hope perhaps one day I will be allowed to come into Dorne for a portrait of the royal family. It would be an honor.” The painter smiled at the princess as he was able to speak briefly before Cedric started. Leaning back in his seat, he gave a nod to Rhea as he listened to his new soon to be king's careful words. “A dragon is more than a threat to just our kingdoms but it seems to fall into our laps as responsibility.”

RHEA FLORENT: She was content to see the Martell princess, someone the Florent lady quickly found to be one of the most worthy allies present. A clever woman, too. Regardless of alliances, Eleyana was the sort of person the Mistress of Whispers respected despite titles and formalities. “It is quite nice to see you again, your Grace,” the lady spoke politely, though a smile did cross her lips. Introductions aside, and knowing of Cedric’s intention to bring about talk of dragons and the scorpions, Rhea turned once again to speak whispered words to Harlon as he pulled out a chair for her. “That would be interesting. A futile thing to test, if you ask me, but interesting all the same”. She didn’t intend to pass tonight’s event drunk or anything close to it. On the contrary, her mind needed to be sharp tonight. But a bit of wine wouldn’t hurt to better endure the stuffiness of it all. As she got to witness Harlon’s passion for painting be so present again, and then speaking up in support of Cedric, she couldn’t help but smile subtly as she finally brought a glass of wine to her lips. “Indeed. We must be proactive in order to protect our realms. And it is only a matter of time before its Targaryen owners wish to claim it back, your Grace”. And that was a bigger threat than a lone dragon on the Reach.

MYRIAM ALLYRION: Myriam nodded in a quiet understanding with the new Princess of the Reach, deciding to drop the matter, though it is something the woman would keep in mind to address later; for is the Princess of their allied region prepared for court life? Would she be able to handle their joint enemies, that would no doubt be threatened by such an alliance? “Come.” She mused, motioning for Florence to sit beside her, seeing if she felt comfortable enough to be separated from her husband. Talk of the dragons caused her gaze to rise, watching as her brother Dastan entered the room, and how she momentarily offered him the warmest smile. Though they were not siblings by blood, she was taken in by the Allyrions after they found her floating down the river in a basket; and truly saved her. She remembered the day Dastan was born. “A dragon is a risk.” She spoke, agreeing to that extent. “Though it is also a risk for us to anger the Crownlands once again, especially now we have levelled out somewhat; with the alliance between the Crownlands and the Stormlands, no doubt Dorne and the Reach would be embroiled in conflict with the pair, directly on our borders.”

ELEYANA MARTELL: Eleyana simply nodded at the Mistress of Whispers in agreement as the group was seated. She observed each polite gesture and each polite smile exchanged between the Martells and Tyrells. Her attention turned to Harlon Flowers as hazel orbs fixed upon the man. “Thank you. That's very kind of you to say,” she smiled at the man she had only heard rumors about. “Please, the honor would be mine if you decide to make the journey to Sunspear. We would all enjoy your company.” Eleyana turned to see the remaining guests still entering the hall, her attention peaked as she locked eyes with Dastan. In the midst of all this heavy discussion it was a comfort for her to see him here.

Eleyana listened intently to the Tyrell prince as he spoke of the impending threat of dragons in Westeros. He was right. The Dornish never bent to dragons in the past and she intended that they never would. She turned to Myriam, her brow furrowed. “A dragon is not only a risk. It's a threat. I'm sure we can all agree that the presence of a dragon in Westeros will only threaten everything that both of our kingdoms have been able to accomplish."

RIYANSH MARTELL: Once the gathered courtiers had settled around the table, Riyansh’s attention fixed on the man sitting across from him, as Cedric wasted no time on further pleasantries, for which he was glad. Riyansh was never one to assert his opinion over others, he allowed others speak their mind on he matter before he responded, “A risk or threat, call it what you will it’s all one in the same. The beast challenges the frayed balance Westeros has achieved after a decade of war. Dorne remained neutral as the conflict was never over our autonomy. We do not wish to be a part of any united empire, nor an alliance that threatens our neutrality. Dorne does not wish to encroach on the lands of those beyond our borders and we expect the same of our neighbors. Thus it’s imperative that we reach an agreement that doesn’t outrage the ‘blacks’ beyond reason. That being said, I believe we can all agree that the creature can not be allowed to remain unchained, falling into the hands of those that can sway its nature.”

RYON BLACKMONT: Ryon Blackmont, shifting his attention from the turmoil he felt happening within the depths of his heart, listened closely to the talks regarding the fate of the dragon. The Lord of Blackmont had heard much of their power, their fury, their deadly nature, even within his own homelands; though he knew that the Dornish knew how to handle dragons. Listening to the words of Riyansh, he understood partly where the man was coming from - though talk regarding not outraging the Blacks fully was one he thought unrealistic considering they were essentially speaking of murdering the last remnant of Targaryen glory left in the world. “There will be outrage on their behalf, especially after ending the life of the beast they consider a pet.” Ryon spoke, his tone characteristically blunt. He knew there was no way to avoid angering the Targaryens; they were of different temperamensts, but dragons, nonetheless. “There are Scorpions at Blackmont, which can be transported to the Reach easily due to our closer proximity.” Ryon began, speaking of times where the machines were delivered to the vassal houses at the border, for them to fire at the majestic beasts in the sky the minute they crossed into Dornish land. “Say the word, and I'll arrange for them to be transported.”

LOREZA MARTELL: Loreza is unsettled by the tense topic of conversation. The princess isn't quite sure what it is she can contribute, as military feats were out of her realm of expertise. Her only thoughts? There is no way to go about this that wouldn't upset the fragile balance that had been created. Killing the beast would be seen as a direct threat, both from the Reach and Dorne. Of course, Riyansh is right-- leaving such a creature completely free was a danger in itself. As she sees it, there is no way to go about this situation that doesn't result in conflict. “Is there no other solution?” she asks, curious to see if there is something she hasn't considered. “I just mean.. I do not see how the use of the scorpions will not lead to another conflict.” The idea of Crownlands soldiers advancing on her homeland makes her shudder.

MATHIS ROWAN: Mathis sat and took in all the opinions that went around the table. He preferred to listen rather than talk when the topic was as conflicting as this one. As often as he was quite quick-tempered and fiery, he made she to water himself down for the sake of Cedric and this alliance. He decided after his potential future betrothed spoke her piece, he would offer his opinion on the matter. “If I was speaking only for myself, I would say the best option is to kill the beast.” He took a deep breath before speaking again. “However perhaps the best course of action is to sit down and have a meeting with the blacks. Perhaps we can find a neutral third party to mediate this situation. Maybe it's possibly the dragon can be caged in a place that's not solely accessible to the Targaryen's.” He knew how hard Dorne worked to keep it's borders secure from battle, and truthfully he didn't want things to escalate to that if they could all help it.

CEDRIC TYRELL: Cedric listened carefully to the words of Mathis, his mind thinking of the joyful pair of young men on the road, backpacks on and ale in hand; how the world had changed so much around them. In that moment, Cedric knew he had made the right choice in making Mathis Rowan his hand; there was a reason the pair had always worked so well together. “I see your points completely, and I do think it would be wise to sit and talk - though keep our hopes grounded. The Targaryens will not accept being separated from what they consider their legacy; not after they have already lost so much. They have nothing to lose, and thus, are more volatile.” He looked over at Loreza, understanding where she was coming from; they had always looked for another way, and that is how they ended up together. “We can try and make a deal; but they will not accept us owning the last of their legacy.”

He paused somewhat. “We must think carefully about who we approach regarding the topic; though for objectivity sake, I'd say the North or the Vale would be best.”

GUINEVERE LANNISTER: Guinevere looked over at her Tyrell in laws, her eyes lingering somewhat on Helena, remembering how just a few days ago her own hands were stained with the blood of the birthing bed. She would speak with her after this was over, but for now, they had their own roles to play. Looking over at Mathis and Loreza, one being the brother of her oldest friend and the other being a friend she had never counted on making from such a mysterious land she was soon to call home, Guinevere leaned forward slightly, almost mirroring Ryon's stature.

“Whilst Blackmont can provide Scorpions, one would have to think of the border fighting that would occur as a result of a sudden attack. Lord Rowan is right in approach to at least express your intentions, and allow the other to make a deal; even if our minds are already made up.” Although the Westerlands would always remain her home, she would not wish for her new home to be at the end of a dragon's wrath; especially considering Blackmont was at the border.

The North or the Vale? She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether it was even her place to say; and yet, she felt as though she owed Loreza another way - just as she had asked. “The Vale.” Guinevere suggested, taking a light sip of the bitter Dornish red. “The Kings of the regions are incredibly close; the Arryn King is your best bet to hoping Daemon Targaryen sees reason.” She may not have known that, but alas, it was useful to their cause.

OPHELIA FOWLER: As the group began taking their seats, in the corner of the room she spotted Noor in the corner of the room. Alone as she usually was when she visited. Excusing herself from her friend the healer made her way towards the other. “Come sit with me” she offered, taking her hand to lead her over towards the table. Ophelia hoped for a little time of pleasant talks before dealing with more serious conversation. And as talk of dragons was certainly not what she was thinking of when she pictured serious conversations. “We are debating about killing a dragon?” she said, more to herself thank anything else. But her eyes did glance around the table to some of the others present. “We just finished fighting one battle do we really want to get into another one?” she said. “There must be some way we could resolve this peacefully.” If a fight were to break out she could only think of her family guarding the prince's pass and the borders. The last thing she wanted was for them to be in danger.

RHEA FLORENT: Rhea found herself agreeing with the Martell prince, which she considered to be a positive thing. The fact that Riyansh Martell could see the potential threat of a dragon being used to serve the purposes of those who could tame it meant that the possibility of the alliance between the two realms was beginning on concurrent, common ground. Different opinions were spoken by the various members in attendance at the dinner. Those who wished to remain passive and not alter the Targaryen fiery temperament by harming their deadly pet. Those who wished to be more diplomatic and settle everything with spoken arrangements with the Blacks. It didn’t sound too bad in theory. The Targaryens being willingly to keep their dragons chained, imprisoned, though? Perhaps an exception would arise if such a conversation took place in order to find a solution. Rhea seriously doubted it, though. Fire and Blood was their motto, and she couldn’t imagine them being willing to keep their fire locked up, hidden away. It was their pride, wasn’t it? One didn’t think of the Targaryens without thinking about dragons as well. “I agree with my cousin on this matter. They see dragons differently than the rest of us do, they mean something to them. Their legacy. Their pride. Their identity. Whatever you want to call it,” she made a brief pause. No one in this room would willingly give up any of that, so it was rather foolish for them to expect the Targaryens would. “A conflict is sure to arise. Let us at least pick the sort of conflict it will be, one that is the least threatening one for us all”.

NOOR: When Ophelia spotted her and came forward Noor offered her a soft smile, though her eyes flashed weariness at her offer to join her, though before Noor could find the words to refuse she was already out of the shadows and the last thing she wanted was her refusal rousing anymore attention, so she remained silent after muttering a small thank you to her listening on. A dragon, alive and well, but for how long by the sounds of the discussion unfurling in the room. Her heart felt heavy at the thought of an innocent creature being put to death because there were those in the world that believed all forms of life were at their disposal to abuse for their own self fulfillment. She thought of the innumerable stories she’d heard throughout her life. Stories told to her, and spoken about in her presence. In every corner of the world the eastern continent she’d wound up in. There were stories of the dragons emerging from shadows and shadow spells that could bind them. Boastings of dragon horns being the prized possessions of so many great coffers, masters who boasted of possessing the horns that could compel the creatures though to little avail as they likely would never get the chance for how few of the beasts that remained in the world. But sure those tales were not what they all wanted to be relayed, many tales that even Noor was loathe to remember for the bitter memories that came with. Her face grew troubled over all the talk as she glanced over at Lord Blackmont.

ADDAM LANNISTER: Addam took a sip of his wine, making a small face toward Guinevere as he did so. As he listened to the others discuss how best to handle the dragon, he found that he both agreed and disagreed with all of them. “Our kingdoms will be better without the wings of dragons flying overhead,” he remarked carefully, tapping his fingers on the table in front of him. “And I agree that it should most certainly be put down. A scorpion is a viable option.” He leaned back then as he considered his next words. He had seen much of war, had seen the way the kings interacted in the Vale. “But if we were to kill a Targaryen dragon, we would find ourselves at war with more than just the Crownlands. The Vale and the North would certainly take up arms; are they not allied with the Dragon King?” He looked at Guinevere once more. “Why would you choose to approach the Vale instead of the North?” he inquired. “Because Arryn has the Targaryen ear?” He exhaled. “And, while I would never presume to know how the others govern themselves, I have to ask... would the Targaryens even agree about what to do with the dragon if they were inclined to see it gone?”

ALYVIA LANNISTER: When the connection was broken, Alyvia felt as if she could breath once more. The earlier whirlwind of emotions gave way to one lasting sentiment that was of anger. At who, she could not be certain. Perhaps herself, and her treacherously foolish heart that had gone an attached itself to the Prince in her youth, shutting down when it was unable to cope with the abrupt departure from any future she’d envisioned with the man. For the past seven years she’d put the thought of Cedric Tyrell out her mind. Faced with him for the first time since she hadn’t been able to remain unfazed no matter what her better senses willed. And for that she was furious with herself. Seated with her friend and Lord Blackmont at the far side of the table, she was nearly grateful for the talk of dragonslaying as it was the perfect distraction to put aside her conflicting emotions.

Her brothers train of thought was sound, though others were not wrong about the dragonlords not keeping their word. It was in their very nature not to. “No one can rise above their very nature, not the beasts nor their riders. Handing them the creature would be offering the low hanging fruit, both the temptation and prize to be won with it’s use too great. The beast is half the worry, it’s the hellfire it can spew that’s really the problem. It’s a shame no one has ever found a way to put a stopper on that nuisance.”

GUINEVERE LANNISTER: “Any man who tries to fiddle with the anatomy of a living dragon will soon find himself ashes; there is no way in ridding it of the flame.” Was it cruel for her to wish such a creature dead? There was a time where they were the most majestic of beasts in all Westeros; and yet it seemed as though the generation following them would have nothing but bones to gaze upon. Perhaps it was cruel, and Guinevere felt somewhat for the loss of a part of history; but history was being rewritten, and a new chapter of independent sovereignty was being created.

“Because the Arryn King is the best bet in hoping Daemon Targaryen and his sisters see reason.” Guinevere replied to her distant cousin, repeating her last words - one can interpret what they mean by the statement. The beast would have to die, though she would avoid war for the sake of it landing upon her head at the Dornish borders. “And the North does not involve itself in Southern affairs.”

ELEYANA MARTELL: Eleyana looked over at her sister. She understood Loreza's perspective on this matter, but this was not a simple trade agreement over silks and pomegranates. The implications of a Targaryen dragon in Westeros would be deadly for every person no matter their kingdom. It would hardly matter the riches that each family held if they were all burned to a crisp. “It's clear that Daemon Targaryen is desperate to rebuild the Crownlands. So desperate he even reached out the Martells for a possible trade alliance.” The princess swirled the wine in her cup before taking a sip. She knew her idea of using her brother's scorpions to kill the dragon was not the most favorable by the group but she needed to at least plead her case. "If he gets a hold of a dragon I have no doubt he will do everything in his power to regain his family's reputation.”

ADDAM LANNISTER: He turned toward his cousin — distant though the relation was — with a tilt of his head. The wine goblet remained on the table, Addam much preferring another varietal than the one currently being served “I do not disagree with the assessment, though the North will have to involve itself in Southern affairs if the beast is killed.” He nearly chuckled at the thought of Rodrik Stark marching his banners South because a dragon had been killed. “Would there be a problem in approaching both the North and the Vale? If two of his allies were in agreement, Daemon Targaryen would certainly have to take notice, sigil or not.”

RIYANSH MARTELL: As pressing a discussion as this was, the few options they had been said, and they were all now going in circles around the topic, there was nothing more constructive coming from it. “It appears we’ve all come to the agreement that putting the creature to death though perhaps the most desired outcome would not be the wisest. We’ve only just encroached on a period of peace, to shatter it without attempting to find common ground would not be wise. Rowan Arryn is a reasonable man to my understanding, and I agree that taking him in our confidence in this matter may prove useful. In an effort to contain the matter, I would suggest you and I meet with our host before we depart from the Vale to discern where his resolution falls, and how he may be able to aid us in this matter.”

CEDRIC TYRELL: Cedric nodded, hearing the quiet conversation between the pair of golden haired Lannisters, wondering how is it that family seemed to find themselves in most of Westeros these days in some way or another. The man knew to approach the Mountain King regarding this matter could be a touchy one, considering the closeness between the two men, though Cedric could only hope the wellbeing of all the realms reigned supreme. “It is done then.” The man agreed, looking over at Ryon Blackmont. “Ready the Scorpions for shipment in advance regardless.”

He looked over at the Vale and Reach courtiers once again, resting his hands together atop the table, feeling the distant gaze of someone he once used to know. “Is there anything else any of you wish to discuss?” He asked, opening the floor to conversation if need be.

RIYANSH MARTELL: Now that they had chosen their course on the matter of the Dragon, it was time to discuss the betrothal. “The resolution of this matter has by no means been reached, however, I am glad to know we all are in agreement about the mutual threat the beast poses. There is another matter yes. I’ve already spoken to Lord Rowan on this matter, as well as my dearest sister. As you know the sanctity of marriage has often become the great foundation for alliances. Thus I have offered my sisters hand in marriage to Lord Mathis, the hope their union can fundamentally ground this unprecedented alliance between our lands.”

HARLON FLOWERS: Holy shit this was really happening. After all this discussion and wondering between the people of the Reach it seemed like a plan was formally going forward. The thoughts of dragons taking to the skies once again was enough to give just about anyone nightmares. The destruction brought on these kingdoms from these creatures was enough for two lifetimes. No more was needed. And hopefully if everything went according to their plan, nothing more would happen. He had to put his faith that Daemon and Caerella could be reasoned with. A slight smile was on his face as he realized the idea had a chance of working. Reaching over to grab one of the Dornish wines he poured himself a rather tall glass before filling up Rhea's as well. “Maybe time for that bet to start now.” He smiled at her. giving a small cheers to the news of a possible engagement. "Well that is certainly a much more cheerful topic” he said looking over towards his friend Mathis.

RHEA FLORENT: So, after all the talking, no real solution had been agreed upon. At the very least the general consensus was that the dragon was a threat that needed to be handled sooner rather than later. She glanced briefly towards her cousin, wanting to get a read of him after the discussion. The Mistress of Whispers had been nursing her glass of wine here and there as the conversation between the attendees took place and she smirking slightly as Harlon filled it up to the top after pouring himself a rather large drink. Are you sure? she seemed to ask with the amused look she gave him. “A bet, then. I thought it was merely a test,” she tilted her head a bit to the side “What are we betting?”. The news of Mathis betrothal soon followed and Rhea turned to her cousin's Hand, raising her glass. “Congratulations for the groom-to be,” she smiled, “May this union make you a happy a man,” she said with sincerity, wishing for more than simple political gain as the result of the marriage.

#i cut the threads that happened privately between two characters #event: the dorne reach alliance

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