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#also they have a collection of rings that are basically communal and so they pass those around a bunch
foulbearobservation · 11 months
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I think it would be soooo cute if ot4 had matching accessories or pieces of clothing they would be the type to have them I think
Oh I love that actually 🥺🥺🥺 hmmmm but what do they have.
Wait they get lilith a dark choaker that isn't a collar but it's not not a collar. But she's like embarrassed to wear it out (but she will NEVER use those words) so ava gets one just like it in solidarity and bea and cam are just like. well. this is our life now I guess. and get matching ones too 🥺🥺 lil doesn't cry when she sees all her partners with little necklaces that mark them as hers as much as it marks her as theirs but she DOES teleport to the roof for some alone time
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mothfables · 5 months
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Some Assorted Chapter Notes
Sun-Warmed Kisses: inspired by and your sweet sweet sun makes me crazy by clumsycrow; basically just lots of sleepy kisses + cuddles in a sunny orchard after Legend gets back after being away for a long time
Nightmare (title pending): Four has a nightmare while staying at Legend’s house & receives comfort + cuddles from the Vet and his partner; platonic found family all around; i just really want to write Four acting his age (i personally see him around 16, though he acts very mature for his age most of the time) and getting some comfort, and Legend letting himself be soft around the other (younger) heroes; Ravio decides he’s adopting the younger heroes and no one is going to stop him, timeline or no timeline
Beads and Rings and Other Things: inspired by @bokettochild’s most recent Inner Hero fic + asks on her tumblr; Legend has autism + anxiety; he likes to sort anything shiny/glittery or with interesting textures; a collection of more-or-less unconnected scenes; Legend Autism Moments*TM (hyperfocus for hours); bonus multipronoun Legend for fun
Songs and Scales: mer!/siren!Legend fic where i take the mermaid suit and make it worse because i can; Legend gets separated from the rest via portal and lands in an isolated pool/cove/lake, where the transformation immediately takes hold (some painful descriptions because i’m indulging the part of my brain that likes angst); he waits to see if his brothers will find him only for hours to pass by with no sign of them; he begins to sing, casting his voice out using the siren aspects of the mer tail so hopefully they can hear + follow his voice to where he is; it works and the Chain led by Wolfie + Wind lead them to him; unbeknownst to Legend not only does siren song allow for casting one’s voice out it can also communicate one’s emotions, and as a fun bonus Wind can understand him >:) (i feel like Legend hates being alone, and that is made quite clear in his song, though he doesn’t know it); after some banter they pull him up out of the water and then get to witness the transformation back to hylian (again, graphic descriptions, no one has a good time). also, they have a scare where Legend doesn’t breathe for a good minute or so because his lungs can’t have anything in them while they adjust to taking in air/water depending on which way the transformation goes
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meanae · 1 year
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Hi I’m new to the bjd community but I already admire your work! I’m looking for a trustworthy website to purchase off of. Do you have any suggestions? I’m looking for a dragon like bjd, also I’ve seen a lot on Aliexpress but is that a decent place ot order off of or do you recommend any specific sellers? I’ve also seen you have some beautiful dragons, I’m sorry if this come off rude if they’re not for sale but do you have you are selling? If so what are the prices? Thank you!
Hey there and welcome to the hobby! <3
There are a ton of links coming, so the questions first. For one, Aliexpress and Ebay are horrible sources to get BJDs, because 99,9% of dolls there are bootlegs, also known as recasts. They're basically illegally made copies of original dolls. While in the past recasters tried to pass their dolls as 'the real deal' from the company (just extremely cheap), nowadays, they're giving the dolls new names and are selling them under their own 'company name'. Don't be fooled. They're still copies. There are a few very good BJD facebook groups, like BJD Addict or BJD Lovers, where you could ask for help to identify a recast listing.
A more in depth text why recasters are a problem can be found here.
If you're looking for dragons specifically, Dreamvalley is releasing dragons once in a while and for events (like 2 to 3 times a year). You can get them via any of the dealers I've linked below.
Most of the dragons I own are made by Cuartodolls who is (was?) a russian doll artist that went completely silent in 2022. Her page got shut down. Even before the whole Ukraine War, she was hard to get ahold off... I'm currently only consider selling my Cuartodolls Ketar, but he originally was 1500$, so he's not really suited to be starter doll :,D
Trustworthy places to buy BJDs are:
And basically any company you can find here:
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fifteenleads · 7 months
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Can I get a connection?
Twelve Kingdoms (Juuni Kokki) | Taiki, Youko, Enki Oneshot, gen, 2.1k words, complete.
Based on this very wholesome selfie art.
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They had found it among the Tai Taiho’s personal effects from Hourai: slim and lightweight with a dark, mirror-like surface on one side and a thick ring on the other. The sages had almost dropped it when the mirror lit up with small Kaikyaku text that blinked several times before darkening once more. Out of extreme caution (or maybe out of terrified deference to the Taiho after all he’d gone through), they decided to seal it away for the time being until he returned to retrieve it someday.
Youka brought it up in passing to the En Taiho on one of his visits to Mt. Hou, briefly wondering if there was a way to make sense of this strange thing that had been in their care for months now. "The shrill sound it makes on occasion scares us to this day, and we haven’t figured out how to make them stop," she added defeatedly, having been its most recent surprise victim last week.
Enki was mildly amused as he fiddled with the device with relative ease. "People in Hourai use these for communication nowadays," he grinned, holding up the lit-up surface to Youka. The mirror contained different words and shapes now, rather than the simple picture that accompanied the sound that disappears after a short while. While it did answer a lingering question in the minds of most of the sages, they would sooner return it to its original owner, if only for their collective peace of mind than anything.
"Fine, I’ll see what I can do," Enki reassured Youka, pocketing the item as he got up to leave. “Maybe The Royal Kei will be able to help. I think she used to have one of these things herself.”
"I didn't think these phones would get any lighter, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Youko considered the weight and feel of Taiki's phone in her hand, while holding her old one in the other. The model she had was not really much older in comparison, but it was much less durable and sadly hadn't survived the trip. Youko squashed the growing twinge of jealousy she felt, avoiding Keiki's wary gaze the entire time.
"For now, the people at Houro Palace just want it silenced," Enki passed on the concern, peering over her shoulder as she unlocked the phone; luckily it did not have a passcode. "They didn't mind holding onto it if needed, of course, but..."
"I understand where the sages are coming from. Even my grandmother did not like the whole idea of cell phones everywhere." Youko became a little wistful at the memory, which she also promptly removed from her mind as she curiously swiped through the phone's contents.
It was actually pretty empty, with only the basic apps like Clock and Calculator on the home screen. Only Taiki's family members (or so they presumed) were on the Contacts list. No messages in the Inbox. As for the Photo Gallery:
"Whoa! The pipsqueak drew these?!" Enki exclaimed as he leaned in to take a closer look. Youko slid the phone over to Enki as he browsed the rest of the folder's contents. The paintings all had dark, supernatural motifs—is what she would probably have said, had she not encountered every single one of them herself in the years she had been in this world so far. Instead, the drawings carried a feeling of terrible suffering and isolation, as well as a longing for a homeland he couldn't remember no matter how hard he tried.
Youko shook her head. That was all in the past; all that mattered was that Taiki was safe, and that everything was all right now.
Her gaze briefly flitted over to Keiki's. The Kei Taiho’s expression was unchanged, but the flash of reassurance in his eyes was unmistakable.
"I guess that's everything in it." Enki withdrew from the table and crossed his arms. If Youko had to guess, they were probably thinking of the same thing right now. "Do you think he'll want it back?"
Despite being Taika contemporaries, Youko could not completely say she understood Taiki. While she still held some degree of fondness for Hourai, it was only because she had a typical, uneventful childhood, as empty and uninspiring as it had been. Her phone contained the usual photos of things she liked, as well as of various milestones and memories, and she was a little saddened when it was ultimately broken.
Taiki must have left his behind for a reason.
Then again, they never really knew that for sure.
Youko chose to be truthful. "... I can't really say. It wasn't really something that had come up the few times we had talked about Hourai." Not that they both even wanted to think about their old world, either, when there were so many other things to do. Tai was still barely recovering from the long civil war it had suffered, and Kei was not really doing much better, either. The road to recovery for both their nations was still long and far, far ahead.
"I guess so." Enki accepted both Youko's answer and the phone she handed back to him. "I'll be holding onto this, then. They'll be coming to next month's summit, right?"
"They've confirmed their attendance, yes." Both of them stood up to leave, Youko motioning for Keiki to join them. "See you next month, then?"
"Got it." Enki went out ahead of them, striking up a conversation with the guardsman stationed at the corner. Youko stopped at the doorway, still deep in thought. Keiki dutifully stood behind her, ever watchful over his liege. At that moment, it felt as if she were only Nakajima Youko once more instead of the Royal Kei, uncertain of many things and her own capacity to make sense of what mattered. "What do you think, Keiki?"
"I think you already know the answer to that, Your Majesty."
His smiles were as rare as they came, and that assured Youko she was on the right track.
The old phone contained literally nothing, and was therefore of no value to Taiki.
He still remembered to detail all the paintings he'd taken pictures of. Those were supposedly for his portfolio for when he applied to art college in his senior year, on his club adviser's insistence—not that he needed it anymore, though. In hindsight, it was probably for the best that he didn't bring all that baggage with him to Tai, especially now that his country needed him and his king more than ever.
To say he was pleasantly surprised, of all things, when the En Taiho and the Royal Kei brought out his phone some hours after the summit had ended, was an understatement. "I... I thought it had been lost in the Void Sea."
"Apparently this is the only thing that washed up with you that day." Enki gently pushed the phone into his hands. It lit up at once, and he unlocked it on instinct. Everything was the way he remembered it, but the battery was about to give out—permanently, now that he had nowhere to charge it.
It should still last a while longer, though, since there was nothing that would sorely drain it. 
Just a little while longer.
Taiki held the phone close to his chest. "I see. Thank you for bringing it back."
"You're welcome," the Royal Kei answered. "Shall we rejoin the others?"
The small banquet was still in full swing when they had returned; the Royal Han and the Royal En were still arguing about their usual things, with the Royal Ren playing mediator. Hanrin and Sourin were in a similarly eager discussion, with Renrin nodding along. Keiki sat across Gyousou, both of them silent as they nursed their respective drinks.
It was a sight that reminded Taiki of one time in his childhood, when eight of the twelve Taiho had gathered on Mount Hou at the behest of the Lady Genkun, to cultivate their bonds with each other as fellow kirin. A couple of arguments had almost broken out then, but it was afterward that they were reminded of their siblinghood, connected through their shared divine nature and mission in this world and to their respective nations and kings. One of the few memories that had brought him much joy, he recalled with a smile as he took a candid photo of the scene before him now.
The loud click of the shutter stunned everyone into silence, Hanrin turning visibly pale as she held onto Renrin. Enki tried not to burst into laughter, while Gyousou looked bemused as he studied the phone, and then him.
Taiki audibly gulped, feeling his face flush in earnest. His king's piercing gaze still unnerved him sometimes. "I-It's... I did it on reflex..."
The whole table laughed, the tension dissipating at once.
Everyone soon gathered around him, asking to see his phone. Of course, they were most intrigued by the camera; there was nothing else in it. Soon, his gallery was filled with different shakily-taken pictures of everyone at the banquet, with Enki gleefully enabling the group and the Royal Kei helpfully explaining where she could. 
At one point, someone had accidentally toggled the front camera, and dozens of selfies joined the previous pictures that had been taken. Some time later, Taiki himself was immediately dragged into a selfie with a grinning Enki and a confused Keiki. That was probably the first time he had done a peace sign for a picture, with Keiki awkwardly copying him.
It was the clearest of the selfies in the gallery folder so far, Taiki smiled to himself in relief. It wasn't like he would see any of these photos again when the phone died for real, but he would always remember each and every one for the rest of his life.
When the banquet finally ended a few hours later, Taiki walked behind his king on the way back to their guest chambers. They had chosen to take the long way back, admiring the gardens at night as they strolled.
Taiki took a picture of the garden, followed by closeups of a couple of flower arrangements. Gyousou was watching him the whole time, smiling contentedly. After everything they had gone through, apart, they had survived and managed to find each other.
Connection really was a surreal thing.
"Master Gyousou," Taiki began, and he shyly held up his phone. His king understood at once.
The battery was about to die, but it should hold out for one last photo. Taiki managed to snap it and show Gyousou for a split second before the phone screen blacked out forever.
Later in their pavilion, Taiki did not take his tea, instead turning his phone over in his hands absentmindedly. It was now nothing more than a common paperweight, like the Royal Kei had referred to hers. Still, it was something he still called his own, empty as it had been. 
Perhaps he was mourning, just a little. 
"I apologize for today, Master Gyousou." Taiki looked into his king's eyes, basking in the wordless consolation he was already offering. "I was never really this sentimental, but..."
Gyousou gently put down his teacup. "There is nothing to apologize for, Kouri. Everyone desires to have a connection, a bond. It is in our very nature, you could say.
"That... device you hold in your hands. You may not be able to see what is inside anymore, but that does not mean they aren't there anymore. It is the same with life, I suppose. With memories and forged bonds. I am certain the others think the same, as well."
His king looked far into the distance as he said this; perhaps he, too, was thinking of people he had known before. Of one, in particular, whom he killed with his own hand.
Their friendship had been real—even if it had ended the way it did. But they did what they had to do. For Tai.
Taiki released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding all this time. He could still not make full sense of how exactly he felt. Bitter experiences he barely survived. Conflicting thoughts of Hourai. Things he thought no longer mattered. Things he'd been wrong about. Everything that connected to him, and connected him to everyone. 
He probably wouldn't have realized and pondered on all these things had today not happened. 
It made him grateful for the closure, in a way.
Taiki put the phone down on his lap, its light weight a reassuring anchor as he breathed in the air of this world once more and let himself move on. “Thank you.”
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lo-kom · 6 months
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Sounds publication
This was the first version I printed of a basic captioning booklet to accompany my sound files. I went through several ideas for my captions based on a workshop we had had about captioning in the first week. At first I think I found it hard to develop a system for documenting the sounds each day, and I focused my captioning more on things that I had seen over the course of the walk (so I could combine the audio and visual experience of Peckham market each day) but then I decided later I just wanted to focus on audio. I also looked into more systematic approaches into documentation such as my research into the British Library sound collection but decided not to pursue this.
This booklet was designed to accompany the sound files which I had edited down. I tried not to make the text too long or dense since it was intended to be read at the same time to listening to the sounds, but if I were to develop it further I think I could experiment with more unusual formats.
In the first workshop we had for the community set brief we reflected on different ways of captioning (as well as displaying images) and how this affects how a viewer interacts with them. One of the examples of a caption someone had written had included something about their ring scraping a rock and I really enjoyed how this humanized this passing moment in putting the collection together and gave a slight glimpse into the lived experience of the individual. Similarly, I decided to include moments and details from me in the process of collecting these sounds. I created a system whereby each day I wrote down: a description of the weather, the shoes I'd worn that day and one thought I'd had that day to capture some of the changes of my experience of the market with each day. These were details that I felt helped map out an image in the viewer's mind of that day if they were to do the same walk. I think one of the things that worked out about this was that you could see a bit of a story emerge with each day along the market and I think it was interesting to follow this, especially since it was something quite ephemeral, but if I were to make this again, I think I would have tried out more systems for captioning, and would have liked to have a seen a description of some of the sounds contained in the audio files (eg. more abstract longer descriptions of sounds vs. simple ones and whether listening to the audio files in combination with reading the booklet created new thoughts for the viewer- ie. made them re-think what they had assumed certain sounds were, or whether experiencing the market primarily through sound instead of sight changed their perception of the built environment, the daily rhythms of Peckham market and the ways in which communities created through it interact).
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threewaysdivided · 1 year
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Number 7 for writers ask
Meta asks for writers
7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?
Oh, this is an interesting one!
Kind of a challenge to answer because, to me, Writing Style is a bit like accent/dialect/speech-pattern. I know I have one, that it changes with context (the "voice" I use for Meta is different to the "voice" I use for Fic', which is different to how I type on Discord Discord!3WD is not S&P approved) and also shifts with what I've been exposed to recently, but because it's my "voice" it tends to fade into the background where I don't "hear" it as much, so to speak. It's probably easier for other people to notice the distinctive characteristics of my style than I do.
One thing that came up when I was talking with @sons-of-mars is that I tend to use details to help ground my writing in the specifics of a character or setting. When I write I look for opportunities to include little granular bits of information that would be unique to that character or the space around them; to help them feel like specific people/places rather than generic archetypes interacting with stock sets. It's something you'd probably feel more than notice outright.
To use some examples from Deathly Weapons: For Chapter 13 I looked up simple forensic methods for detecting blood because the narration was slanted towards Batman's perspective and that felt like the kind of technical tool/information a detective would have and use. For Chapter 17's sparring session I did basic research into various beginner level martial arts, because Dinah was the primary perspective character and I felt like she would have specific knowledge of different punches/kicks/fighting forms in her capacity as the Team's combat instructor. In Chapter 15 I added passing details about Wayne Manor's wallpaper, lighting, mouldings etc. - partly to flavour the text and support the tone but also because old estate houses often have a unique sense of character, grandeur and scale. The waterfall in the therapy room bubbles, Wolf wanders around Mount Justice, the Zijilker offshore rig smells like oil and salt-water... little things which help it feel like the characters are actually inhabiting the spaces around them and perceiving those surroundings through their own unique lens.
Below the cut because this is getting long, but it's probably easiest to spot in the draft comparison where they first pointed it out:
There's a later planned Deathly Weapons chapter called China and Emeralds, which has a scene of Dick doing some acrobatics on the Batcave's gymnastic rings while Danny works on a mech' project nearby.
The original "skeleton" draft of Dick's part of that scene looked like this:
Tink. Rustle. Flip. Clatter. Tack. Flip. ... Flip. ... Silence. Dick paused in his routine, catching himself easily on the rings. 
It makes a little more sense with the context of the scene before it, but overall it wasn't doing much for me. Dick is an acrobat so I felt like he should have more literacy about gymnastics than "IDK I did some flips", and the noises he's hearing don't really communicate any specifics of what's happening at Danny's bench.
For the second draft I looked up some basic calisthenics drills for gymnastic rings, and combined it with what I remembered from the industrial workshop class I took in highschool to add more details:
L-sit.  Hold for thirty seconds. Paper rustled on the other side of the cave.  A smell of warming solder. Rear-swing into back-uprise into handstand.  Hold. Metal pieces clinked as they were fit together.  A muted tinkle of one being returned to the box. Handstand press.  Ten sets, then return to hold.  Repeat. Another clink, this time more decisive.  Fingers scraped through a collection of fittings. There was a quiet sigh. Dick let his bodyweight drop, flipping back up into a somersault to take the pressure off his arms. Silence. The acrobat caught himself on the rings, peering over to the workspace on the other platform. 
The bones of the scene are the same in both but the results has different vibes. To me the second one feels more solid, like it captures a more distinct picture in the mind.
So yeah, for me a big part of writing is down to the details.
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handkilop · 2 years
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Clipper tickets
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“I’d like for my customers to be able to easily transfer to any system that connects to our system,” said Padgette. Integrating with transit in the Bay Area is also on the agenda. The Cal-ITP pilot is going to look at allowing through-tickets with other services, such as Sacramento’s light-rail system. “We’re trying to make it a lot easier to take our trains,” said Padgette. The goal is to incorporate European-style features such as fare capping, so that if someone rides a Capitol Corridor train enough times in a given period it will automatically convert them to a monthly pass. This pilot will allow riders to use app-based payment systems and credit cards to pay for passage directly, sans tickets. “My agency is the project sponsor, so we’re going to start a pilot in February, and we’ll sign up like 200 people for it,” said Padgette. The Cal-ITP program, which will modernize Amtrak’s fare media within California while still adhering to Federal regulations, also seeks to integrate and rationalize fares with connecting services. Clipper tag-on point for BART and Caltrain. “This illuminates the divide between the Metropolitan Transportation Commission and the statewide California Integrated Travel Project program,” explained Ian Griffiths of Seamless Bay Area. Because of that, “we’re extremely limited in our ability to be flexible,” said Padgette. The CCs instead have conductors patrolling the passenger cars scanning RF codes from phones and paper tickets, using an antiquated Amtrak fare-collection system. And Clipper does not have the capability to track passengers. “We’re intercity rail and we’re required to have a list of passengers that are on the train that’s Federal Railroad Administration regulations,” explained Robert Padgette, Managing Director of the Capitol Corridor Joint Powers Authority, which oversees its operations. The simple answer is because BayPass will be added to Clipper cards, which Amtrak can’t accept. So why can’t the CCs accept BayPass along the section from San Jose to Martinez? In fact, with year-to-date CC ridership of over half a million, Amtrak carries more people and does more to address Bay Area mobility than, for example, Napa’s VINE bus system or even the SMART train in the North Bay, which are both participating in BayPass. The CC has transfer points with BART and a ferry connection at Jack London Square. The CC, which is funded by the state, also stops in Fremont, Hayward, Oakland Coliseum, Jack London Square, Emeryville, Berkeley, Richmond, and Martinez in the Bay Area. But the two use completely different ticketing systems and fare structures. Both stop at or run through San Jose, College Park, and Santa Clara stations. It’s the first step towards true fare integration of the many separate transit agencies.Īmtrak’s Capitol Corridor (CC), which runs from San Jose to the Sacramento area, shares a few miles of track with Caltrain. Unless noted in the story, GJEL Accident Attorneys is not consulted for the content or editorial direction of the sponsored content.Īdvocates last week celebrated the launch of the Clipper BayPass, basically a student pass that will be accepted on nearly all of the Bay Area’s transit systems. If you like to sing every chance you get, take it to the next level and join us at our next rehearsal! Even if you don’t read music or you think you have an “average” voice, you’ll learn helpful singing tips to hone your craft when you start singing with us.Note: GJEL Accident Attorneys regularly sponsors coverage on Streetsblog San Francisco and Streetsblog California. We regularly sing at a number of community events, annual shows and annual competitions. We are available to sing at your next function, whether you’re interested in having our entire chorus or one of our chapter quartets. Diekama (1948), “Keep America Singing’Ĭontact us today if you are looking for a unique musical experience to liven up your upcoming event. Keep a melody ringing and ringing in your heart. Smile the while your are singing, carry, carry your part. Keep the whole world singing all day long. It’s all about the music! As our Society’s theme song says, The Manitowoc County Wisconsin Chapter is one of almost 800 Chapters in the Barbershop Harmony Society.
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power25bachmann · 2 years
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the-tiniest-one · 3 years
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Hello! I saw you asking for requests to be sent in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for kakashi and gai (separately) with a plus size civilian s/o? Or one or the other? Thank you in advance ❤
MIGHT GUY
SO we all know Guy is ALL about 3 things. Youth. Passion. Protecting Precious People….and guess what? When you happen to cross paths with the Leaf Village’s Blue Beast, he trips over himself to let you know just how PRESH you are.
I don't see your status as a civilian as much of a road block for him. He needs someone grounded and with soft hands to hold.
Someone who will think he’s the strongest man in the world, a superhero.
He protects the ones he loves with his life and once you're in that circle there is no way out of this man’s giant heart.
You somehow enter Guy’s line of sight, maybe on a walk to class or work too early in the morning…. and from that moment you pass by and he catches sight of your pretty face, he is out for the count.
Now. Lets remember….Guy is CONFIDENT (sometimes more in spirit than in actual ability, he is the fake-it-till-you-make-it KING).
Also important to note: Guy is NOT the same as Rock Lee in his pursuit of women. He’s not about to blow every kiss at you from the jump or shamelessly confess everything out right. Don't get me wrong, he’s shameless….but Guy wants to be seen as someone cool, sexy, a real macho/mighty man... He wants to be slick Kakashi his eternal rival. He’s going to try to be velvety smooth….without success.
He would find any excuse to be in your eye line while flexing or saving a poor disguised student he employed for his contrived scheme, in this case... Neji or Lee in a dress from falling off a building LOL. (“They would be asking him to please explain again how this is training?”)------You might be a civilian. But Genjutsu of that level does NOT work on you LOL.
You are the one to finally introduce yourself to a slumped and defeated Guy after about a week of his adorable attempts at trying to bate you in with his goober acts.
“Hello, my name is (y/n). I was hoping maybe you would like to get a drink sometime?” you say with a half smile.
He would raise his head, teeth BEAMING….the power of youth always prevails!
Best. Decision. Ever. Guy charming and not to mention SHREDDED.
When he accepts your date offer, He would stand and grin, maybe saying something a little cocky like; “A handsome, war hardened devilish shinobi such as myself will always find time to satiate the voracious desires of such a heavenly woman so bursting with the essence springtime.”
He would be so so so respectful.
That being said, you're HIGH AF if you think you aren't making a B-line to walk by Kakashi on the way so Guy can tactfully walk by loudly so that his rival notices he’s with a cute girl.
He’s going to be the chivalrous type. The kind of man who makes sure your hands are around his giant bicep whenever he escorts you anywhere….which from this point on is almost anytime he is home from missions or not training.
Guy is perfect. He’s tall, JACKED, and such a sweet loving man.
He is obsessed with your shampoo. His nose is always in your hair.
Lets face it. Guy is 100% the most physical man that has ever walked the streets of Konoha. If you aren't big on touching, then his is not the man for you.
One hand will always be around your waist, holding your hand, arm around your neck, locked on your curves or anywhere else….respeeeectfully of course.
He will always be up on you and in your face so get ready for that LOL.
He will be proud of you. He will be boisterous to an exhausting level about your achievements.
He will be exhilarating in every way.
One of Guy’s greatest strengths is also one of his most unfortunate downfalls. He is wildly protective. Never underestimate his ferocity when it comes to you. You may have to communicate more than once where the line is when it comes to him watching over you. Even though you aren’t skilled in combat as he is, you also are not a child and he will take some time to learn what you require and what you don’t.
He always means well.
You have some faults and things to work on as well. Guy is tender as hell, an emotional, hot blooded, love sick fool who can and WILL take things you say to heart so be sure if you notice him freaking out or trying too hard to make you happy, to hold him and let me know often that he is perfect the way he his.
In the end all of the passions and butterflies that Guy provokes from your heart are entirely justified.
He will ask you to marry him after a date, probably at sunset, one knee, giant ring he spent way too much on.
He claims you deserve the world and you tell him that instead of the world “you would settle for just having his hands, his lips, and his heart.”
Do your best to return his love to the best of your ability because not everyone gets the chance to be loved by the Hidden Leafs Handsome Blue Beast.
KAKASHI
I’ve never seen Kakashi as someone who would end up with another shinobi bombshell.
Instead I think he would find himself interested in someone who is a total badass in another line of work.
Example; You first encounter him one day while advising Lady Tsunade on the information the Hidden Leaf Village (and a few others) pay’s your company large sums of money to collect, aggregate, and report.
Kakashi stands guard during the meeting, watching you speak with an eloquent grace and authority he finds captivating and maybe a little seductive.
By then end of the meeting he is curious about you...wondering what you thought of him, what you think about everything.... You never even look his way.
He falls in line with you as we escorts you out of the building, walking beside you in the otherwise empty stairwell.
You smirk and take the liberty of speaking first. “Did you enjoy the show Scarecrow?”
From that moment on he’s hooked.
Now I also don’t find the idea of him falling for someone with some FULL curves to be all that outlandish….He has never given .00000001% of a shit what other people think.
He also shares the famous Pervy Sage’s taste in “women he describes from research” and romantic books about women shaped like gourds so with that logic in mind….dude likes thicc, full, curvaceous women for sure. It's basically cannon at this point ;)
Kakashi is someone who has learned emotional detachment through pain. You are the first person who shows promise in tearing down those defenses.
Your relationship not necessarily a slow burn. Kashi isn’t a kid, just because he hasn’t fallen head over heals with anyone before, doesn’t mean he is a mystery to himself or oblivious to his feelings.
That being said, I do think he will protect you by keeping a relationship with you under wraps for the first year or so.
If anything EVER happened to you….he wont let that happen.
The secrecy could be hard on you at first.
Watching more than a few women flirt shamelessly with your Kashi is beyond ROUGH.
Especially considering most of them are tough as nails ninja women with perfect bodies. You aren't used to feeling threatened by other people men or women, so you have a hard time learning how to deal with it.
Kakashi is always quick to remind you that he is serious about your relationship though.
He looks at you with a ferocity only seen by people who are no longer alive. His voice is low and serious when he gets close and tells you, “(Y/N) You are my entire life. I will never leave you. I promise I am yours until the day I die.”
After a few times of him promising you that he really is in love with you, you believe him and can be secure in his word.
As his girlfriend, you take his breath away.
The way you speak, move, sleep….
Even the way you casually conduct yourself at home and in public makes him more than proud to know who you are. Let alone get to go home to you.
Guy is the first one to catch on believe it or not. He notices Kakashi peaking over the top of his book at you as you walk down the opposite side of the street. He’s known Kakashi since they were kids, he puts a reassuring hand on your boyfriends shoulder and vows without spoken words to protect you when Kakashi can’t be there….and Kakashi understands. It helps him sleep just a little better knowing he has help.
Stargazing on a rooftop one chilly autumn night, Kakashi grabs your hand and proposes to you with a small silver ring, slightly ashamed for it’s lack of a stone.
“I want you to be my wife.” is all he says and you wrap your arms around him whispering in his ear “You have had my heart since the first day I met you…. And you always will.”
His heart melts into a puddle at the sound of you telling him he will have a wife. Finally have family that loves him this much.
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tomtenadia · 3 years
Text
A Little Braver - 21
Hello everyone,
as I am about to post, itunes has just started playing the song A Little Braver that i used as an inspiration for this title of this fic. I can’t believe it’s already time for ch 21.  One more chapter and Rowan is back.
A few things before I let you go. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding. The location used as an inspiration is this: https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/duff-house-p246341 the place is called Duff House and is in Banff, about two hours from where I live. It’s a gorgeous place.
Secondly, I am the worst at describing clothes. so in order to give you an idea of the dress Lys is wearing here we go: https://www.weddingdressfantasy.com/products/light-blue-tulle-wedding-dress.html. (I absolutely detest white wedding dresses)
Thirdly, In the fic you will noticed a first of a Sorscha/Dorian - let me explain. I am not the greatest Manorian fan, to be honest it just leaves meh. Also, in this fic they can’t happen. He is the Chief. she is a firefighter with a chance to become an officer. He is her superior. He just can’t.
And finally, in the conversation with Aelin, Rowan talks a bit about how bad it is. He also goes incommunicado for stretches of time. All I am saying is that parts of this will came back in later chapters when he finally tells her what happened. Only then, we will learn how bad it was.
I think I finished my announcements and I can leave you to the chapter
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Aelin’s alarm went off far too early for her taste. Her hand slammed her phone and stopped the annoying sound, then she rolled and hugged again bird Rowan and buried her face in his pillow inhaling his scent in what had become her routine since he had left. 
“Good morning, my friend.” She muttered in the pillow then stared at the toy “do we want to go to work?” She groaned and grabbed her phone and found a message from Rowan. It had the picture of a gorgeous red sunrise in the background of a busy flight deck Had a night from hell, but this view lifts my spirits up a bit.
She read the message and panic rose so she tried to phone him and luckily he answered at the first ring.
“Hey,” his voice was strained and Aelin’s heart started to race in fear.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just a bad night and we lost few pilots. I have known them for a very long time and served together a lot as well. Some had wife and kids.” He said very softly, his voice almost broke by the tears he was probably trying not to shed over the phone.
“I am sorry.” Was her pitiful reply but she was not good at consoling people. Then her treacherous mind started telling her that it could have been him and she almost felt sick.
She heard him sigh deeply as an alarm started blaring in the background “I gotta go. Sorry. I will phone you as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry. I am at work on my usual super long shift.”
“Stay safe,” he said with a worried tone.
“You as well, please. I am getting used having you around the house.”
He chuckled lightly “I enjoy being around the house too.”
Then she heard a voice calling every one to battle station “Fuck. Sorry gotta run. Love you.”
And he hang up after those words, probably sprinting out of his quarters or wherever he was. Even her, in her limited knowledge of military life knew that a call for battle stations was not a good sign. That was what all her sci-fi movies told her.
Aelin took a shower and slowly got dressed for work and mentally prepared herself for another long day, probably a visit to detective Ytger 
She arrived at the station not long after and went to her office and Aedion met her there a moment later.
She had received an email from the detective and she had expected the woman to be there already.
“The detective is on her way.” She told her cousin while he sat down.
“Do you think we are in trouble?”
Aelin shrugged “those clubs had to be closed down.”
“I know. I am just worried. He has to know by now that it came from us and I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
She sighed again, meeting his worried stare “you are not alone in that. We probably made a big enemy but he has to pay somehow.”
Aedion was about to reply when a knock on the door interrupted her.
“Come in,”
The door opened and Aelin recognised the detective “sorry, one of your team members showed me to your office, I told them you were expecting me.”
“Take a seat detective, Aedion and I were just catching up.”
She took out a thick folder from the messenger bag she was carrying and placed the file on Aelin’s desk “All we have about Hamel so far, and officer Westfall gave me a report of last night.”
Aelin grabbed a file of her own and passed it to the woman in front of her “before leaving the club I called my relief captain and told him what was happening. He made it pass like an anonymous call but after what I told him and what he discovered it was in our jurisdiction to close the place.”
“It’s in your authority to give him a prohibition notice but as you know as well he has a right to appeal and contest your findings and I have a feeling his lawyers are already at work to stop that.”
“Those places are a disaster waiting to happen. As captain I cannot leave them functioning knowing what I saw last night.”
The woman nodded in understanding “Captain, I am on your side and my superiors agree as well. Hamel has caused enough problems for a long time and needs to be stopped.”
“We can close all of his clubs, but you tell me his lawyers bail him out every time. We cannot win this.”
“We have further leads and a few agents undercover working on them. That’s all I can say. The operation is quite secret.”
“I hope you will succeed, detective.”
“We will keep you in the loop,” she made a movement to stand but paused halfway “Hamel is a nasty customer. Keep an eye out. Just be careful.” She nodded at both of them and then excused herself saying she had to go back to the precinct.
Aelin was about to add something else but Brullo barged in her office all panicked “Cap, Lieutenant, you need to come immediately.”
The two stood quickly and followed the man outside and to the area where the engine and truck were parked. Brullo pointed at something behind the two rigs: a medium-sized parcel.
“We were all in the common room, then I came through here and I saw it. I did not touch it, I came straight to you, sir.”
Aedion nodded “Aelin grab the whole team and get out of here.”
She looked at him in protest.
“As a precaution. This is my area.”
Aelin nodded, if that was an actual bomb he was the only one who could actually do something.
“I’ll call the police and bomb squad.” Aelin took her phone out but Aedion stopped her.
“Not here, remember basic bomb training? Radio signals can trigger it. Grab the team and get out of the firehouse.” He ordered her, that was his field and Aelin would gladly let him take charge.
“Ok, but you be careful, please.”
Aedion nodded and went to get his bomb suit while Aelin and Brullo went to gather the rest of the team and evacuate the premises as asked.
It was half an hour later when Aelin got the all clear from Aedion and ran back to the station with Lysandra just as nervous as she had been.
Aedion had removed his suit and was back in his uniform. 
He walked to the two women and nodded at Aelin, confirming that it was a real bomb he had just defused. He then handed her a message that had been taped inside the box.
This is only the beginning. You made a big mistake.
Aelin swore loudly.
“What’s going on?” Asked Lysandra who had no idea of the whole Hamel situation, just like the rest of the team.
“Station meeting,” called Aelin as the rest of the team marched back in.
Aedion took everyone in the communal area while Aelin called detective Ytger to tell her about the bomb they had received. The woman had asked to keep the artefact as proof and that the bomb squad was on its way to collect it to add to their investigation.
She closed the call and joined the rest of the team and braced herself to tell them the truth she and Aedion had omitted for their protection. 
“Ok, everyone, I need your attention because what I am about to tell you is quite serious.” She started, staring at her team with dread in her guts.
“Was that a real bomb?” Asked Manon.
Aedion nodded. 
“Remember the call we had at the Vaults? Only Aedion and I went in. The kitchen caught fire and two people died. The whole place was not up to code. So Aedion and I confronted the owner who did not seem to care. Threats have been exchanged. Aedion and I started working with the police and the owner of the club is apparently high on the list of criminals to remove from the streets.” She kept telling them, unable to read their emotions “the night of my birthday and Lys’ party we went to a club and I did some recon.”
“Is that why you disappeared for so long?”
Aelin nodded “Chaol was there as my back up. As soon as we left I called Pete and told him the situation. He passed the call as an anonymous one and they closed the club.” Then she turned to the male counterpart of the team “at your party, the fire alarm going off? That was Aedion.”
“Our club was a mess as well. I knew Pete was busy as I knew Aelin’s plan so I pulled the fire alarm. That club was shut down as well.” Continued Aedion, not letting the burden of the confession all on Aelin’s shoulders. They had decided together. 
“You are two bloody idiots.” Shouted Lysandra “and you thought not to tell us, why?”
Aedion was about to reply but Lys marched to him “and don’t say to bloody protect us. You are not a knight in shining armour.” Her green eyes bore into his with fury.
“We had a chat with the police and we realised the lesser people knew the better.” Added Aelin.
“Not to be disrespectful, cap, but we are your team. We are a family. And you should not keep such things from us.” Ren’s voice broke the momentary silence.
“I know,” said Aelin almost mystified “I was just not expecting an actual bomb landing in our station.”
“What do we do now?” This time it was Elide voicing everyone’s thoughts. 
Aelin sighed “stay alert. The police is on the case but I have a feeling it will get worse before it gets better.”
“Report anything that looks suspicious to us either of us.”
The team nodded. And Aelin dismissed them all and they all went back to their duties.
*
The night had been long and they had far too many calls for her taste, but the shift had finished with no more drama and no more bombs and she called it a success, although she could not push away the constant feeling of doom in her guts. That bomb and the message had been clear. Hamel was not going to forget how both she and Aedion had confronted him. 
She parked the car in her spot and the sight of Rowan’s reminded her that he would not be at home waiting for her. She hadn’t heard from his since the day before and she hoped he was fine. He sounded down. She had texted him once but received no reply. 
She grabbed her bag and got back inside her house, looking forward to a very long relaxing shower. She walked to her bedroom, removed her shirt when powerful arms grabbed her from behind and a blade appeared at her neck “now, captain, you behave like a good girl and not a peep or I’ll slice your throat.”
Aelin nodded silently.
“Good,” his voice near her ear. Then she felt his lips on her neck “you are such a nice treat.” She realised too late she was just in a bra and Aelin felt his disgusting hand slither up to her chest. Rage rose through her “you know? I haven’t had a tumble with a woman in a long time. I might just have my way with you before I kill you.”
Hell no, thought Aelin.
With what little she remembered about self defence that Aedion had thought her she kicked the man in the nuts then grabbed the arm he had around her neck and with a powerful move she just threw him on the floor. His head slamming hard falling unconscious on the spot.
In a frenzy she grabbed her phone from her back pocket and called Chaol.
“Hey,”
“Hi. Are you on shift?” She asked him, voice trembling.
“Yes, out on patrol.”
“Good. I need you at my house. Someone just broke in and attacked me.” She explained while trying to calm down the anger.
“Ok, I will be there as soon as I can. You haven’t moved, have you?”
“No, still same address.”
She sat beside the unconscious man and kicked the blade away with her shoe. And then she tried very hard not to cry.
“Aelin, it’s me.” A knock on the door woke her up from her shocked state. She grabbed the blanket she had on her bed and wrapped it around her and went to open the door to Chaol. Beside him stood a woman, his partner. She had met Nesryn many times before.
Chaol noted her state “are you okay?”
She walked to the bed and sat down staring at the man on the floor.
“He is unconscious,” said the other woman while cuffing the perp.
Chaol stopped in front of her “what happened?”
“I just got home from my shift. I got in the house and he attacked me while I was getting changed. He put a knife at my throat.” And she pointed at the weapon on the floor.
Nesryn came off the phone “detective Ytger is on her way.” Then she stood and walked to the kitchen and got some water for Aelin.
“Thank you.”
“He didn’t…” asked Nesryn with caution.
Aelin shook her head “I have no shirt on because I removed it before I was attacked. He just got a nice sight and a squeeze. I stopped him before he could do more.”
Twenty minutes later detective Ytger and a few more detectives arrived in the house inspecting it and collecting any bit of evidence they could, knife first of all.
“Aelin, this is Tern one of Hamel’s men.” said the woman pointing at the still unconscious man cuffed on the floor.
That was good thought Aelin, they could arrest Hamel now?
“We will bring him to the station and interrogate him. But Hamel’s men rarely sing.”
“So he almost killed me and nothing will change?” She stood and shouted “this man came into my house and almost got me.” And she pointed at the thin cut at her throat “I am alive because I can defend myself.” She sat back on the bed, hands shaking. She was not going to break down.
“You should come to the station for a statement,” said the detective.
“Would it help?”
“To put Tern away for a while.” Then she shook her head “not yet enough for Hamel.”
Aelin groaned and went to get a clean t-shirt and a hoodie “fine, let’s do this.” And walked to the door of her flat annoyed.
Her time at the police station had felt completely useless. They had asked her for a statement, asked her to recount again what had happened and then again she was told that the chances to finally frame Hamel were still quite low. They had no way prove that Hamel had tried to kill her although the police knew that Tern worked for Hamel. She was slowly losing any hope and confidence in the police.
Once the detectives had left, Chaol sat with her in the interrogation room “are you sure you are fine?” His voice full of worry as his brown eyes stared at her.
“Yeah.” She said flatly “I just want to go to bed. I came off the night shift and I am tired.”
“Your house is still a crime scene.”
Aelin swore loudly “what am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe Aedion can take you in until you get your place back.”
“I don’t want strangers in my house or in my bedroom.” She snapped. She did not want anyone going to her bedroom and possibly touching his stuff.
“They have to.”
“They got the knife, and Tern, what more do they need?” She stood and started pacing frantically and Chaol knew she was not okay.
“I am calling Aedion.” The man took his phone out and phoned her cousin explaining him what happened and that she needed a place to stay for probably a day.
Aelin sat back on the chair and tried very hard to not to break down. She was tired and furious and with a deep desire of smashing something. She felt tears sting her eyes and fought them hard. But the rage was like a wildfire inside her.
The bastard was trying to kill her. How dared he?
“Aedion and Lys are on their way.” Chaol came back and sat down again beside her and pulled her closer.
“I thought we were doing the right thing,” she said quietly “that man belongs to a jail. How dare he think he can get me killed because I am doing my job?” She was seething then peeled away from Chaol’s attempt at comfort and resumed pacing feeling restless.
“I’ll go and sleep at the station.” Aelin stopped and Chaol noticed her shoulders slump in exhaustion.
He grabbed her hand and stopped her. She needed to be with someone close to her. He had known Aelin for a very long time. The police tended to work a lot with them and eventually Chaol got to know the entire fire station: both east and west. But that was the first time he saw Aelin in that state. He had seen her run into fires without batting an eyelid but that day she was truly scared.
“Wait for them, you need company tonight.”
It was a good half an hour later when Lysandra and Aedion made their way inside the police station and Lysandra ran to Aelin as soon as she spotted her friend. The two women embraced fiercely and Aelin burst into tears as soon as she was in the other woman’s arms.
In the meantime Chaol took Aedion aside and explained to him what happened.
“Are you okay?” Lysandra took Aelin’s face in her hand and green eyes met blue “you are coming with us, Ae and I will look after you.”
Aelin shook her head “you have a wedding to prepare for. I will sleep at the station. I am fine.”
Lysandra sighed in exasperation “Aedion, you tell her she is coming with us and not going to camp at the fire station.”
Aedion walked slowly to his cousin and kissed her head “there is no way you are sleeping at the station. We have a spare room. And stop being stubborn or I call flying boy and tell him to have a chat with you.”
Aelin’s heart sank. She did not want Rowan to know, at least not while he was away. He was already having a rough time as it was. He could not worry about her as well. And for something like this he would downright freak out.
“Fine.” She yielded.
The drive home had been quiet, Aelin sat at the back of the car and leaned her face against the window staring at the city passing by. The fury had somehow calmed down but the whole attack had thrown her off “Ae, I need you to teach me better hand to hand combat. I keep thinking that I am alive because you taught me some manoeuvres to defend myself.”
“We can do that and if any of the other ladies in the team want to join I can do it for all of you.”
Aelin saw Lysandra put a hand on Aedion’s on the stick. Knowing him he was probably beating himself for not protecting her properly.
They stopped at the traffic lights and Aedion slammed his hand on the steering wheel in rage “first that bomb and now this. I want the man’s head on a silver plate.”
“The police has no proof.” Said Aelin with such a flat tone that Aedion worried seriously. She had just recovered from all the fire ordeal. She could not go through another breakdown. And this time Rowan wasn’t even there.
Aedion breathed out and relaxed as the lights turned green. They arrived at their house not long after and once inside Lysandra took Aelin to her temporary room. When she came back she had a bundle of clothes for her.
“These are mine.” She handed her over the bundle “I have spare toiletries and towels if you need a shower. I will ask Aedion to make lunch.”
Aelin shook her head “I am just taking a shower and going to bed. I don’t feel hungry and definitely not in the mood for company.”
Lysandra hugged her “we’ll set aside some food so if you are hungry later on, it’s there.”
Aelin’s arms tightened around her friend’s body “thank you for having me.”
“Always,” Lysandra pulled back and searched for Aelin’s stare “especially now that the captain is away. We are here.” And with that she left.
Her shower had been long as she had the need to scrub off her body from the contact with the assailant. Remove the memory of his touch on her skin. Once she felt clean again she went back to her room and curled up in bed. She wanted to speak to Rowan but was afraid she would crumble. But the weak part of her needed to hear his voice and know he was okay. So she gathered some courage and called him.
Aelin was about to hang up when he finally answered.
“Hi trouble.
“Such loving words to say to your girlfriend.”
“Keep me company while I walk back to my quarters.”
“I just got out of the shower. I only have my bathrobe on.”
“Cruel, cruel woman.”
Aelin grinned and snapped a picture of her, the robe slightly open to show her legs and part of her breasts to tease him “you better get to your quarters before looking at the photo I just sent you.”
She heard a door slam and a much quieter background and Rowan was silent for a while.
“Are you still alive?”
Rowan groaned “it’s a good thing that I need to take a shower.”
Aelin laughed loudly at the joke. Speaking to him was lifting the cloud of doom that had landed on her “You might need more than your military style two minutes.”
“After the photo I will be happy to get a cold one.” He was silent for a while and she heard some rustling.
“My turn for revenge.”
Aelin looked at her phone and she had two pictures one was him in his jumpsuit how she liked him, the second was him with his bare torso and this time it was Aelin’s turn to groan “seriously, when you come back I am taking a week off, we are going back to the cabin in the woods and spend the whole week in bed having sex.”
It was Rowan’s turn to laugh “you will not hear me complain.”
“I miss you so much.” And she tried very hard not to cry, it would make things much worse and he would fuss and worry. And he was away and she could not distract him because his job was dangerous and she needed him to come back. Badly.
Rowan sighed on his end “Yeah, not having a great time either.” He said softly “how is Elide coping?”
“She just tries to ignore it and stays strong.”
“Lorcan is miserable. And all the shit that is going down is not helping.”
Aelin hugged the pillow “Ro, I know that you can’t tell me anything but are you guys okay?”
She heard Rowan loose a long breath “it’s not the first time we are in a bad situation. It has just been very exhausting and we have been pulling crazy patrol shifts.” He explained “that’s why I haven’t been texting you back. I just got off a 12hrs patrol. I think the whole team is already in bed.”
“Even the twins?”
“Yeah, we have been so busy that they had no time to indulge in any illicit activities.”
Aelin smiled “ohh poor Fenrys.”
“I already have enough on my plate. I don’t have time to deal with his stupidity.”
Aelin smirked in the camera “can I distract you, captain?” Swiftly Aelin opened the belt of her robe exposing her naked form to him.
Rowan hissed a breath “Aelin…” his voice strained “you are not helping…”
“Just cheering you up.” She bent her legs, her hand brushing slowly her stomach in a sensual motion.
Rowan growled and Aelin noticed him standing and pacing.
“Problems, captain? You seem on edge….”
He looked at her in the camera, took in her long legs and the swell of her breasts and pushed aside his need for her “were I there, you’d be against a wall right now.”
Aelin cackled in response.
“Fuck, Aelin, this is torture.” His voice harsher than meant to. Her brows furrowed “I did not meant it like that…” he corrected himself very quickly “I love this. Very much. But I can’t be there and it’s killing me.”
Aelin closed her robe back in understanding “Sorry…”
“Hey,” he said very softly and felt like a bastard “you cheered me up.” His eyes rolled “more than expected.”
Aelin laughed “I guess that shower will really be long now.”
“Definitely more than three minutes.” She saw him going back on the bed, stripping off his jump suit and remaining in a t-shirt and boxer briefs.
“Nice ass, Whitethorn.”
Rowan laughed again and she loved hearing that sound from him “Is it okay if I leave you now? It’s dinner time on the ship and I hate being late because the best stuff is gone.”
“No,” she said softly “go, take that shower and have some food.”
He stood and looked at her in the camera “thank you.” He blew her a kiss “I love you.”
“Same here. Very much.” She sighed, dreading the end of the conversation “Go.”
“Okay. Hanging up now…” he waved at her and waved back and eventually hung up the call and Aelin collapsed down in bed with heaviness and sadness.
Then she got up and wore some clothes and left the room to join Aedion and Lys. They had been nice to her and she did not want to offend them. Also, speaking with Rowan had calmed her fears a bit.
Once in the kitchen she joined her friends.
“Look who has a big smile. Phone sex with the captain?”
Aelin chuckled and shook her head sitting down beside Lysandra. Aedion passed her a huge portion of food.
“You can totally have sex phone with him, Ae and I will not judge.”
Aelin took a bit of her food and hummed happily. Aedion was a great cook “he had to shower and then dinner. Meals are on set times.”
“And suck most of the times, but maybe the posh gangs on the boats have fancy cooks. Sometimes we had to survive on military ration packs.” he explained eating eagerly his food “as soon as I retired I learned how to cook.”
“And you are awesome at it.” Lysandra brushed her hand on his arm.
“Guys, thank you for having me over.”  She felt as if she hadn’t thanked them properly. It was a few days before their wedding and she hated being a burden.
“Hey, we are here. And you know that when Rowan is away you can stay with us if you feel lonely.”
“I can always babysit once you make me aunt Aelin.”
Lysandra laughed “hold your horses lady, he gets to marry me… for his progeny he will have to wait.”
“Imagine cute blonde babies with green eyes.”
“I can definitely imagine kids between you and the captain.”
Aelin almost chocked on her food “seriously, Lys, you can’t just blurt out stuff like that.”
“Why?” She asked innocently and Aedion elbowed her.
“We just finished fighting and barely started figuring out things. I leave the whole marriage thing to you, for now.”
Lysandra sighed and did not push. She knew it was a tough topic for Aelin. She and Sam had been months away from getting married before he died and she knew they had the whole kids chat and had planed a family “Fine.”
They finished dinner and Aelin offered to help clean up, it was the least she could do. The three of them camped on the sofa and chatted for a few hours then Aelin started yawning and excused herself to bed. She had a long crappy day.
***
It was the weekend and the big day for Lys and Aedion. Aelin had returned home two days after the attack. The police had contacted her telling her that the house was released back and she had gone back as soon as she could. Lysandra and Aedion had driven her home and spent some time with her making sure she was fine being there again. Aelin, being her stubborn self, had sworn she was fine but had started playing music all the time to try and hide the silence in the house. The first thing she did was to flop on the bed and inhale Rowan’s scent and hug bird Rowan like an addict. 
She was about to get dressed when her phone went off.
“Oh look who is calling.” She hadn’t heard from him since their last conversation and although she knew it would happen it would always make her nervous.
“How is my girl doing?” Since they had put an official label in their relationship, he had become even more affectionate and had also started using cute nicknames for her on top of Fireheart which still was the main one he used. All their barriers had officially fallen and distance was the only thing separating them. She loved this new take in their relationship. She was just looking forward to him coming back and finally ask him the question she had been pondering for weeks. 
“Great. It’s Lys and Aedion’s wedding day. I was just getting ready.”
“Will I get to see in you in your maid of honour’s dress?”
“If you behave,” she teased while removing her pyjama “how are you doing?”
“I am on downtime… until some shit happens and we have to scramble no matter what.”
“That sucks.”
Rowan sighed “I know, but that’s how it works.”
Aelin put the phone on the bed and on speaker phone “Keep talking, I am just getting dressed and I got you on speaker phone.”
“I really hate I can’t be there.” Then he stopped “you are not taking another man, are you?”
Aelin laughed. Him playing jealous boyfriend was cute “Brullo is accompanying me and Ress is taking Elide. They are just being nice, don’t worry.”
“Fine, I’ll trust them to keep their hands to themselves.”
“Jealous much, captain?”
Rowan just grunted something unintelligible.
She finished pulling up the dress and with some acrobatics she did manage to zip it up as well “that’s when I need you here. To zip up my dress.” She groaned after the feat just accomplished.
“Honestly, I’d rather zip it down.” Aelin could hear him smile.
Then she grabbed her phone and switched on the camera “here we go, Buzzard. My hair is not done yet, neither my make up, but you can see the dress.”
It was a long light blue dress that would match the bride’s colour. The skirt pooled at her feet and with a squared neckline. It was very simple. Rowan had switched on the camera as well and from his expression she could see it was effective as well “so?”
He swallowed hard “I assume you have underwear this time?”
“Yes, it’s not as tight as the black one, so it does not look bad.”
“Again… it really sucks not to be there.”
She twirled for him “is that all you have, captain?” Then Aelin took a seat at the vanity dressing table and started fixing her hair while the phone was leaning against the mirror.
“I have so many naughty thoughts just now… that if I were there we would definitely be late for the wedding.”
Aelin cackled in joy. Once her hair was pulled up in a nice style she opened the small jewellery box in front of her and pulled out the necklace he had given her and showed it to him “recognise this?”
His face lit up in a beautiful smile “you are wearing it?”
Aelin nodded “I always do when I am not on shift. It’s always together with your dog tags.”
“I love you.” He said to her with a tenderness that melted her heart.
The buzzer in her house went off “this must be Elide. We are going together. Go and call Lorcan.”
Aelin stood and saw Rowan doing the same. When she got back with Elide she noticed Lorcan in the image “Commodore, thank you for joining us.” Then she grabbed Elide’s arm and pulled her in the picture as well and saw an array of emotions pass through the usually stone faced man.
“Hi Lor,” said Elide timidly.
“Elide…” was the only thing he managed to say. The woman had a dress matching Aelin’s. Lysandra had chosen both of them to be her maid of honour.
“Isn’t she stunning?” She teased, loving to see the man actually showing emotions.
“Very, very much.” And no one missed the tenderness in the comment.
“Well, boys… these two ladies here have to go to a wedding so the gawking stops here.”
“Have a good time, okay?” Said Rowan, while Lorcan was still busy admiring Elide “and leave the other men alone.”
“You two enjoy your downtime and your cold showers….” She winked at them wickedly then she grabbed the phone and walked away for a moment of privacy for her goodbye to Rowan.
Once she was done she walked back to Elide who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So, our fearless and cold commodore has emotions after all.”
Elide nodded “he just shows very little of them. But he has been calling me every time he can and well… he has been kind and he actually said he missed me. I think for him is the equivalent of saying I love you.”
Aelin hugged Elide “I am so happy he is being nice to you.”
The two finished getting ready and eventually left the house, Aelin saying goodbye to bird Rowan before leaving.
The wedding venue was an estate just outside town. It was a gorgeous sunny day and the ceremony would be held outside and then the buffet and the celebrations inside in the great hall.
Aelin and Elide arrived half an hour later and a valet took care of her car.
Together they walked along the long path with trees at both sides. In the distance they could see the mansion and the place looked majestic. A double staircase lead to the upper level but they were guided to the rear of the mansion.
Aelin approached a woman standing and looking like she was in charge of the event “Hi, we are Aelin and Elide, the two maids of honour. Where is Lysandra?”
“She is getting ready. I’ll take you to her.”
The woman lead them to the room “she is in here.”
Aelin and Elide entered and Aelin gasped amazed when she saw Lys, standing in the middle of the room. She was beautiful. The dress was light blue. Lys had told them she refused to wear white. The gown was in tulle, the corset was covered in lace with a floral pattern which continued along the gown, and a strap in tulle as well sneaked on the left shoulder.
Her dark hair was bound in a nice complicated bun with some flowers pinned in it.
Aelin took a step to her friend “Lys, you look amazing. You are going to give Aedion a heart attack.”
“Do you like it?” She pirouetted for them.
“You look like a princess,” said Elide dreamingly.
“The dress looked amazing in the picture but on you is even better.” Aelin sat on the bed “how are you feeling?”
“Nervous I think? Which everyone is telling me is normal.” She confessed.
Lysandra looked at her friends “did you send a picture of you two to your boys far away?”
Aelin smiled “I was having a video call with Rowan when Elide arrived. You should have seen Lorcan’s face. The man was speechless when he saw Elide.”
“Oh sure because Rowan was disgusted…” joked Elide.
Aelin chuckled and thought about his reaction “definitely not…”
The three women chatted and gossiped for a while until the woman who had walked them to the room came back announcing that it was time to get to their positions and that the groom was already at the altar.
“We’ll see you up there.” Aelin hugged Lys again and the woman nodded.
Aelin and Elide were taken where the other bridesmaids were, and their male companions.
Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and the rest of the team as well. 
Brullo walked to Aelin and offered her his arm “captan, would you do me the honour?”
Aelin took his arm in hers and wore at her wrist the corsage he had offered her.
Elide took her place with Ress. Ansel went with Nox, Manon with Ren and Asterin went with Luca. The guys were wearing their dress mess uniform.
Everyone lined up for the procession and Aelin wished she could share such a happy moment with Rowan.
Classical music started playing and the bridesmaids and their partners were told to start walking down the aisle.
As they walked Aelin noticed a lot of familiar faces. All of west station was present, Dorian was sitting toward the front with Sorscha at his side. In another section she noticed Chaol and Yrene and a few more cops. There were a few men in uniform. Aedion had invited some of his ex army mates. She smiled when she saw a few civilians in a sea of uniforms. Both police officers and firefighters had worn their dress mess uniforms and the detectives were the ones mingling in the regular clothes crowd.
Aelin looked at the end of the aisle and noticed Aedion in his dress uniform, standing proud and with a big smile. His hair was tied in a very low ponytail with a red ribbon holding it together.
She was so happy for him and was looking forward to see his face when he saw Lys.
Once at the bottom of the aisle they stopped and Aelin and Elide took their positions and same for Brullo and Ress, walking behind Aedion.
The officiant joined a moment later and a man in an army uniform appeared and Aelin tried to figure out the rank from his insignia. She had learned the airforce ones but still had no clue on army and navy, but from the large cuffs on the wrists of his uniforms she guessed he was quite high up and important to Aedion if he asked him to perform the wedding.
The man patted Aedion’s shoulder and gave him a huge grin.
Eventually the music changed and Lysandra appeared at the bottom of aisle and Aelin stared at her cousin’s expression once he noticed his soon to be wife make an appearance. Lysandra was a lucky woman. She could see the deep love in Aedion’s eyes.
Lysandra walked down the aisle with a little girl, Chaol and Yrene’s daughter, being flower girl.
Aelin smiled as the little girl threw flowers and bowed to the attendees every so often. She was just adorable. Once she was done she turned and bowed one last time and ran back her parents.
Lysandra stopped in front of Aedion and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment.
Once they took their place the officiant started the wedding.
Aelin got distracted by a figure lurking behind one of the trees in the distance. Her stomach in knots in worry. Silently she kept scanning the area without showing any signs of her attention having drifted away from the wedding. And when she spotted a second one her panic rose. The men were dressed in black and clearly hiding. She saw one of them lift something that looked a lot like a rifle. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Everyone duck!” She shouted.
In that instant gun shots echoed in the air.
Aedion threw himself on Lysandra and in that instant Aelin saw a bullet finding its target in his shoulder. Blood spayed from the wound and then Lysandra’s scream followed.
She saw police, detectives and army scrambling into action. She kneeled and pulled Aedion’s body from a panicking Lysandra. Rolled over his body and sighed in relief when she saw him breathing.
She looked up at Brullo and the man was already on the phone with the emergency services.
Aelin used her dress to stop the bleeding and Elide crouched beside Lysandra to calm down the woman.
Aedion had used his body to shield Lysandra as he heard the gun shots. He had acted on pure instincts.
“Lys, he is breathing. He will be okay.” Aelin said to a terrified Lys. Their faces covered in sprayed blood. Elide used her dress to clean Lys’ face. Sorscha joined them quickly “keep the pressure on the wound.” She told Aelin, while she checked him over.
The ambulance arrived pretty quickly and Aelin recognised the paramedics from another unit.
The paramedics took care of the wound and then Aedion was lifted on a gurney.
“Go,” she said to Lys, “we are joining you at the hospital.” The woman nodded in a daze and followed the paramedics.
“Brullo, Ress, stay with Elide.” And she ran away to the police.
She saw detective Ytger dragging a man in cuffs to the exit and probably to a police car.
She joined Chaol who was holding his screaming daughter “They got two but there were more. They had rifles. I saw the army guys spreading along the perimeter.”
“Do you think…?” She asked and Chaol nodded without her having to finish the sentence.
“The bomb, the attack to you… and now this…”
Aelin’s hands fisted in rage. 
It had gone too far.
She was going to take Hamel down.
No matter what.
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falconcoast · 3 years
Text
genshin speech and debate headcannons
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genshin characters if they took up speech and debate (like nerds <3.)
a/n: this week is the national tournament for both speech and debate! while i myself am not going (i wish LMAO) i do have a couple of friends going, and one who placed in under the top 100 lincoln douglas debaters in the country! i was mainly inspired by a friend of mine saying that yanfei and hu tao would make a good debate duo and kinda went from there. anyways!! enjoy :)
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yanfei + hu tao; 
POLICY POLICY POLICY duo and i’m basing this off the real life teams i know
policy debate is like an hour and a half long debate, where there’s one yearly topic and. like every debate, there is the positive side, or the negative side. 
tbh i find policy debate the most boring kind of debate
BUT these two would make it so much fun
let’s talk roles! i see yanfei as the one to be the first speaker (1AC), simply bc she knows so much.
she’s also canonly good at writing (as you tell with her written contracts), so i feel like the 1AC is hers
hu tao would be 2AC, or the second speech
this is because she’s would be quick on her feet often
the second speaker is someone who can come up with solutions on the fly, and articulate them out excellently
as for building a case to support the topic, i just know these two come up with the most frustrating, yet viable solutions
hu tao would loveeeeee running kritiks (which are basically arguments saying “we shouldn’t even talk about this resolution because ABC”)
i also think that her disadvantages (basically reasons to vote in negation, if they were on the negative side of the argument) would almost always end with extinction impact
a little debate lesson! in a disadvantage against the affirmative’s plan, there are three parts. one, uniqueness, or what’s currently going on. two, the link, or what will awful thing will change from what’s happening currently, if the positive team’s plan passes. and three, the impact, or the terrible, overall outcome that is the consequence of the affirmative team’s plan. 
an extinction impact is basically saying “if we institute this plan, we’re literally all going to die!!’ 
(the bane of every policy debater’s existence, especially if you’re the one that has to argue against it. i’ve only debated policy twice, and it’s BULLSHIT but whatever not time to complain) 
i’m split between seeing them as spreaders (the portmanteau for speed and reading), where they read so fast to get so much information out, of if they have morals and communicate efficiently
!! MATCHING SUITS !! they wear matching suits to every tourney !! they also probably have super cute pins on the lapel of their suit coats 
they’ve probs gone to nationals every year, they’re that good 
they’d dominate-- since policy debate is a 2v2, you really have to have good chemistry with your partner in order to be successful, and they do !!
they’d also probably be the fun debate captains, who have to take the younger ones under their wing
all in all, fun team! revered around the country, and for good reason!
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albedo; 
POETRY SPEAKER
poetry is a type of speech that is spoken alone, so i think it’s quite fitting for him 
in poetry, you memorize your poem, but you can look down at this tiny, three ring binder that contains your poem 
aforementioned binder probably has a million stickers that klee put on there
unfortunately, he probably can’t bring that binder to competitions, so he at least has one sticker on the inside of his formal binder 
he probably dolls up very nicely, and has a dark blue suit with a button from klee’s collection
sobs klee and albedo’s found family dynamic 
probably picks more traditional poems, simply because works with a formal beat are easier to memorize 
he’s definitely the kind of person to have amazing audience skills
his tone of voice would match the tone of the poem, and the crowd can instantly recognize that
(wish that was a skill i had </3)
albedo has a natural soft, yet compelling voice that makes him so easy to listen to 
sigh,, he’d probably be the nicest kind of mentor to study under
if he’s not in his rounds, he’s probably watching yours and taking notes!
it will always read “excellent job. i look forward for your next performance. :)” followed by a few small doodles and critiques 
sigh,,,, to have a hot as fuck debater friend who gave good notes,,,, that’s the dream
(if mark from oratory is reading this HMU YOU’RE SO HOT AND YOU GIVE GREAT NOTES)
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jean; 
CONGRESS DEBATER
in congress debate, there are usually 10-30-ish debaters in one room for one, really, really, really, long session where various bills are presented before the senators or the debaters
kinda like. yknow. congress
every congress debate has a presiding officer, aka the person who makes sure nothing goes to shit
anyways! that person would be jean
she would probably be a great author of bills, in which they’re though provoking, insightful, and probably pretty solid grounds for whatever side she’s agreeing with
her questioning skills,,, WOOOOO
in congress, you have a three minute speech and a minute of questioning afterwards, in which anyone who is on the opposite side of you ask one question abt your speech
her questions actually strike the soul—she can read people really easily and can point out flaws in their speeches
presiding officers have gavels, and i bet that klee placed a sticker on the handle lol
her notes >>> !! probably so organized, i struggle keeping up in congress, but she writes so fast and her notes are even pretty
she runs a tight ship—she hits her gavel when a speech is up and she’s not too happy when someone goes over
she probably wears the suit-skirt combo and is literally so cute
she’s the type of mentor to be gentle yet strict; but really, she just wants you to do your best <3
me and who when
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zhongli;
four time national champion in both high school and college, premier distinction debater, and a double diamond coach.
that’s zhongli for you!
in my state, there’s certain judges and coaches that are highly venerated (my own coach is one of them; he was a policy debate state champ and he still has his tourney trophies on his desk ^_^ so cool!! )
so take that, and up the fame by tenfold!
he’s an extemporaneous speaker for sure!
maybe my bias is leaking thru
anyways, extemp is a speech that relates to current national and international affairs
you have 30 minutes (and whatever information you gather beforehand) to create a seven minute speech. memorized.
scary as shit and i literally compete in jt LMFAO
zhongli, however, is a wise, wise old man (despite being like. a freshman in high school)
he has an uncanny ability to run his mouth in a smooth, understandable way
judges would note his speaking style—comfortable in a way that speaks as if he were delivering the speech to one person
it’s the kind of voice that you can fall asleep to, but so interesting that you can’t help but want to know more
yeah a wild claim. zhongli?? turn foreign policy into something interesting??? more likely than you think!
he started as a prodigy, and almost instantly he was shoved into the spotlight.
he’d go onto to be a four-time national champion, and probably manage to do the same in whatever Ivy League college he goes to
i see zhongli then becoming a big shot businessman after his schooling; a good speaker makes an even better businessman!
buttttt, i think that he comes back to coach at some prestigious academy for fun
he’s the kind of coach that’s gentle and firm, he really really really wants the best for his kids okay!!
his gaze is piercing. he’ll look you in the eyes and make you question your entire speech career
he also flutters between his kids’ events, taking detailed notes about their rounds
“you stuttered on contention one.”
“your back was slouched, your eyes were on your paper. for goodness’ sake, prepare better.”
his best compliment? “you had my attention the entire round.”
FISKRKALRKFK IF SOMEONE WROTE THAT ON MY BALLOT I WOULD SWOON
speaking of ballots! ballots are basically the sheet that you judge someone’s debate or speech on.
his ballots are not biased, whether or not he’s heard good things about either debater
oh to get an actually good ballot,,, havent had a detailed ballot since fall of freshman year </3
he wears a three piece suit to every tournament. doesn’t matter if it’s june eland the tournament is in a desert, he will literally keep his suit on
he probably takes his kids on cross-country tourneys too!! he’s loaded!!
a huge donor to debate and speech organizations, he knows just how much speaking skills changed his own life, and he wants to make sure that everyone else is able to get that same opportunity
wholesome guy when it comes to this stuff :,)
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bonus thoughts;
CHILDE IS THE LITTLE SHIT WHO YELLS IN THE AUDIENCE DURING FINALS
ganyu is the club manager who would doordashes lunch for the team
klee often tries speaking speeches in front of her big brother, but they’re usually little 6 year old ramblings
xingqiu is a storyteller speaker end of story and i’m not expanding on it
diluc and kaeya used to be a public forum duo (a 2v2 debate), but after crepus’ death, they became differently involved in speech and debate, if at all
barbara often sneaks into the auditorium to watch her sister compete :,(
venti would be a poetry or storyteller,,, not sure which one
the teams all have 11PM fast food runs after state tourneys, all talking about their day and everything in between :,)
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qqueenofhades · 3 years
Note
i noticed that you like to write a lot of heartrender husbands from fedyor’s side of things (which makes sense cause fedyor is fun!) but i have to ask in the modern au, what was ivan thinking the whole first two months 😂??
like was he carrying the joke the whole time? did his brain short circuit around fedyor?? was he worried about what fedyor was thinking or did he just think he was shy? Did he think the first date went well ☠️?
This was supposed to be lighthearted, but then there came Feels. So here is Ivan's backstory in Phantomverse. Content warning for mentions of an abusive relationship, familial homophobia, implied sexual manipulation, and dark themes. Nothing graphic, but duly noted.
Also on AO3.
Brighton Beach, 2015
It’s safe to say that Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov Kaminsky did not ever, not in a thousand years, not in a million, imagine himself ending up here. At one point, even Moscow would have been a stretch, and that was obviously still Russia. The fact that he would be walking down a sidewalk in Brooklyn, under the elevated tracks of the Q train that rattles and bangs overhead, on a cool spring morning to do his shopping at the Brighton Bazaar – in, should this somehow not be clear, America – and then returning to his apartment and his husband is, quite frankly, something out of an alternate-Ivan timeline. One from the Twilight Zone, or whatever they are calling that kind of thing these days. Sometimes when he thinks about it too much, he gets afraid that it is in fact a dream. That no matter how long it has gone on and how good it has been, it will suddenly and inevitably end. After all, he is Russian. Sunny optimism has never been accused of forming a notable facet of the national character, and Ivan himself would never be described as the hopeful type. But God, for this, he does.
He reaches the bazaar – a bustling blue-awninged international supermarket with three-quarters of its signs written in Cyrillic – and steps inside, grabbing a basket and pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket to double-check his list. He knows what he needs, but he likes the tidiness of writing it down, and he proceeds into the crammed aisles, passing customers speaking English, Russian, Ukrainian, Uzbek, Yiddish, and several other languages he can’t identify by ear. Brighton Bazaar stocks all the Russian products necessary to satisfy even a homesick expat like Ivan, and he enjoys being able to navigate the store with ease and read all the labels at first glance. He can get by in English, if he’s pressed, but it’s easier to leave it to Fedyor, who is fluent, and in here, he can conjure the illusion that he will walk out on the street and be back where he truly belongs. He likes Brighton Beach a great deal more than he ever expected to, but it’s no replacement for the real thing.
Ivan collects his purchases, along with a few special extras, and takes them to the counter. He is greeted in Russian by the checkout clerk, who knows him well for always turning up at the same time every Saturday morning with military precision. As Semyon Pavlovich Kuznetsov (who is called Syoma by his friends, but he has not clearly stated that Ivan can use the diminutive and therefore Ivan does not) scans his items, Ivan consents to exchange a few gruff words of small talk on the weather (nice) how the Mets did last night (badly) and the old guy who apparently died of a heart attack two days ago in the Russian bathhouse on Neck Road (making Ivan glad he did not choose said day to attend). It’s this weird Russian-American hybrid of things, since Semyon is the teenage grandson of a Red Army veteran who fought at Stalingrad, but he was born and raised in Brooklyn, loves American video games, and is fully fluent in American pop culture. It startles Ivan to realize that while this kid speaks Russian perfectly, he has probably never done so in Russia outside of a few visits back to the old country when his family can afford it. That is a very personal question to ask one’s grocery clerk, however, and he does not.
And then there’s that other thing, which he would definitely never be asked in Russia, especially not these days. Semyon hits the button to tally up Ivan’s bill, informs him that he owes $56.77, and then says cheerily, “How is Fedyor?”
Ivan concentrates on digging the exact amount out of his wallet in cash, since he never had a credit card when he lived in Russia and is still somewhat leery of them. “Fedyor is fine,” he says curtly, in the tone that makes it clear that he understands this question is an expected part of an American social interaction, but that is all the information he is willing to venture. “Here is the money.”
Semyon accepts it, counts it into the till, and rings the transaction through, handing Ivan his bags and his receipt. “Have a nice day, Mr. Kaminsky!”
“Thank you, Semyon Pavlovich.” Ivan accepts his purchases and leaves the store, taking a deep breath of the salty, sunny air and the wind whipping off the seafront. It’s still a little too early in the year for there to be many bathers on the beach, though there are always people strolling on the boardwalk. It’s only a few minutes to the apartment, which is just off Brighton Beach Avenue and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean. Ivan buzzes into the old brownstone, takes the stairs to the third floor, and as he unlocks his front door and lets himself in, wonders, yet again, at the sheer impossibility that his life has led him here.
Ivan is the third of five boys, but he was the one who was named after his father. It was not, of course, because they had some special hope for him to be the great inheritor of paternal pride, but a simple matter of logistics. His oldest brother, Roman, was named after their paternal grandfather. His second-oldest brother, Oleg, was named after their maternal grandfather. When Ivan arrived, only then was it proper to name him after Ivan Romanovich, Ivan Sakharov senior, since rushing too fast to glorify yourself as an individual, rather than your community and your ancestors, could be seen as running contrary to the collectivist ideals of the great Soviet Union. By the time his two younger brothers arrived, his parents were hard pressed for ideas; Yuri (for Gagarin) and Vladimir (originally for Lenin, though that has obviously acquired a different connotation those days) were clearly obtained by putting the names of national heroes into a hat and picking.
Five children was quite a lot for a Soviet-generation family, and Ivan doesn’t know anyone else his age with that number of siblings. After all, more children meant more time standing in line at Municipal Grocery Store #5 for food that has to be shared among more mouths, more worries about how to clothe and educate and accommodate them, more chances for one of them to go terminally astray and betray the family honor. Ivan wonders sometimes if his parents only really wanted Roman and Oleg, but decided to keep going as a matter of gaming the system, so much as it was able to be gamed.
By the early 1980s, the aging, decrepit, dying USSR, run by aging, decrepit, dying men, was in the grip of a demographic crisis so extreme that it was a contest between worrying about which one would end them faster: crazy President Reagan with his finger on the nuclear button, or the whole country just keeling over of old age. The idea of what a family even meant had been under constant challenge since the heady days of the Bolsheviks, who denounced marriage as a construct of bourgeoisie oppression and preached for free love and sexual liberation. Then it went hard back in the other direction during Stalin and the Great Patriotic War, holding up the traditional nuclear family as the highest ideal and offering rewards to mothers who had multiple children. Then it lurched away again. Abortion and contraception had been legal and freely available since the days of the revolution and most Soviet women made good use of them. Plus, of course, the obvious difficulties of maintaining a sizeable family when it was increasingly impossible to obtain even basic supplies and foodstuffs. It just made no sense.
Desperately trying to counter this slide toward self-inflicted obsolescence, the late-stage USSR came up with a number of incentives to boost the birth rate by any means necessary. They allowed mothers to refuse to list fathers on the birth certificate, to avoid social shame if he was married, foreign, a drunkard, or otherwise unsuitable, and beefed up programs to support single women with children. They also went back to the old-school plan of granting extra stipends, housing privileges, and state recognition to families that had more than two children, and Ivan himself was the third of his. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce that he was almost surely conceived for the tax benefits.
Not, that is, that it didn’t work. When Ivan was born in 1984, the family lived in a tiny apartment on the tenth floor of a building with no elevator (or rather it did have an elevator, but it was always broken), crowded in with three single young men who were at the very bottom of the list for being assigned housing. By the time his youngest brother, Vladimir, was born in 1987, they had been moved to a small house of their own on the outskirts of Krasnoyarsk, not far from the bus that his father took two hours a day out to the mine. The cynical old joke in the USSR was that the people pretended to work and the government pretended to pay them, though in Ivan Romanovich’s case, the work was backbreakingly real, even if the money wasn’t. He would come home exhausted and filthy after a sixteen-hour shift and yell at Galina Sakharova to feed him, bark at his sons, and then fall asleep in front of the television, only to get up the next morning and shuffle off again.
Ivan Ivanovich has spent a lot of time after he left home trying to understand what that kind of life would do to a man, mostly because he didn’t do it while he was there. Of course he didn’t. He was a child, and it was simply what he was used to, the only way the world could possibly be. On the night of December 26, 1991, as Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev signed the United Soviet Socialist Republics out of existence with a single stroke of the pen, Ivan remembers his father crying and swearing and throwing things at the wall, the heavy yellow-glass ashtray that always seemed unbreakable, perched on the kitchen table to collect the detritus of his constant cigarettes, smashed to bits just like their country, their sense of self, their security. It wasn’t as if life in the USSR was so wonderful. It was just the only thing they knew. Beyond that, there was nothing but the terror of the utterly unknown.
At any rate, the world didn’t end. The oligarchs moved in and began snapping up Russia’s newly privatized economy. Ivan Ivanovich, of course, had no goddamn clue about this either, aside from overhearing his father curse about it some more. He trudged through secondary school and left at eighteen, without even trying to proceed onto university. Those weren’t for someone like him, he knew that. Instead he got a job at the ever-troubled Krasnoyarsk Aluminum Plant, and went straight to work on the factory floor.
It was around this time that the one disruption in his otherwise humdrum life, the one thing that stopped him from just settling into the same miserable existence as his father and going on like that forever, became too impossible to ignore. And that was the fact that no matter how much Ivan tried to squash it down, push it aside, or otherwise pretend it didn’t exist, he could no longer deny the fact that he was attracted to men, and only to men. He bought some of the cheap porn magazines from the tabak, tried to flip through them and get something out of the girls in heavy eyeliner and bleached-blonde hair, spilling out of their scanty lingerie, and just… didn’t. He wasn’t even interested enough to try a conversation with a real flesh-and-blood woman (not that Ivan had ever gotten through a conversation with another human being, especially a woman, without disaster) and see if it was different in the flesh. Nothing about the experience, even imagining it, appealed to him at all. But men…
He knew it wasn’t right, just because – well, you knew that sort of thing, you didn’t have to ask about it, you didn’t let on. But nonetheless, something, somehow, must have given him away, because one evening after the end of his shift, one of his coworkers cornered him in the back. His name was Konstantin and he was a few years older, big and bluff and constantly smelling like machine oil. He stood there, folded his arms, and said, “I will give you five hundred rubles if you suck my dick, Ivan Ivanovich.”
Ivan didn’t know how to answer. He had never spoken to Konstantin about anything aside from the job. He didn’t like him, he wasn’t attracted to him, and he didn’t want his filthy fucking rubles. He wanted to go home and take a shower.
And yet. He wanted to know. So when he went home, it was with five hundred rubles in his pocket, and a strange, indefinable feeling of something both excitement and shame. He looked it up later and found that it was barely seven American dollars, barely enough to buy a sandwich in this place he now lives. Then after that it became – not a relationship, not exactly. But he had done it once and Konstantin knew that he was at least theoretically willing, and there was no getting away from it now. Soon enough it became something of a regular thing, and then Konstantin wanted to try other stuff and not always pay, and if Ivan ever protested, Konstantin would threaten to get him fired from the factory or tell his family what they were doing. Ivan knew that he couldn’t let this happen, and besides, this was a relationship, or so he would tell himself. It was rough and it wasn’t very enjoyable and he didn’t like the way it made him feel, but it was probably the best he was going to get, here in this place, so he had no choice but to put up with it.
Until one night when his older brother came to pick him up from work, which he didn’t usually do. Something about it set off Ivan’s alarm bells, but he got into Roman’s battered old Zhiguli anyway. They didn’t head back toward the house. Instead they headed for the country, the narrow, crumbling road that led into the vast forests of Krasnoyarsk Krai. The city was often voted one of the most beautiful in Siberia, surviving even its long periods of grim industrialization with something of its soul intact. It wasn’t as cold as Yakutsk or Oymyakon, the places where it stayed at sixty below zero all winter long and boiling water froze when you tossed it out the window. Winters only got down to a few degrees below, and in Russia, that was par for the course. Ivan loved his hometown, and he was used to the outdoors. He was a sportsman, a natural athlete. He played hockey, bandy, football, rugby, and basketball (surprisingly popular in Russia). He swam and boxed. He was tall and tough and muscled and most people never bothered him. But when the car coasted to a halt in the middle of nowhere and Roman turned off the headlights, he was still terrified.
His brother said, “I hear you’re doing things, Vanya.”
Ivan didn’t answer.
“I hear you’re doing things with men.” Roman reached over and grabbed him violently by the shoulders, pinning him against the seat. “Disgusting things. I will not have one of those in the family, do you hear me? Do you hear me? If I find out that you have done it ever again, even once, I will make sure that you pay the price. Are you listening? Say that you understand.”
“Yes,” Ivan said. “I understand.”
What he really understood was that he was going to leave, when he had barely been out of Krasnoyarsk Krai in his life. Going as far as Novosibirsk for a shopping trip was unusual, and once, in school, he went to Georgia, which was the first time he had left the country (though of course, it used to be the country). But he knew that he could not stay here anymore, and in a moment of welcome serendipity, that was also when his conscription notice arrived. At the time, every Russian man over the age of eighteen had to serve two obligatory years in the armed forces (though it has since been lowered to one, of which Ivan does not necessarily approve), and his number had come up. So he quit his job, did not say goodbye to Konstantin or tell him where he was going, packed his few boxes of things, and moved four thousand kilometers and four time zones west to Moscow.
Ivan arrived in the capital trying not to present himself as a wet-behind-the-ears country boy, to act like he knew what he was doing, to show he was much tougher and meaner than any of these spoiled, pampered little children whining about how hard it was when they trudged into headquarters and presented their army notices. In that, he had a genuine advantage; he had worked hard for his whole life, he had already been through whatever could possibly endured with a father and four brothers, and he found the strict routines, harsh discipline, and predictable tasks of the army comforting. Everyone was scared of him, he didn’t need to try (though he did), and that was also gratifying. He worked hard and pleased his commanders, who tried to entice him to stay on as a full-time professional serviceman. There were many opportunities for a man of his talents, and more money than Ivan had ever dreamed of. As for his personal life, as long as he was scrupulously discreet and kept turning in good results, they would not trouble to enquire too closely. That was already better than from what he had expected with Konstantin. Once again, he thought it would be the best he got.
That was where, therefore, he met Aleksander Ilyich Morozov.
Morozov was his opposite in many ways – rich, well-spoken, well-educated, the son of a legendary KGB commander and the inheritor of comfort and privilege even in the lean last days of the USSR. He was about Ivan’s own age, but he had a self-possession and a gravitas that made him seem older. He had started training for a career in the Russian security services practically from childhood, and he had pegged Ivan as a particularly promising recruit. “You should come with me,” he said. “We would find an excellent career for you.”
Ivan was never sure how to respond when Morozov started talking like this. He admired the man and was admittedly attracted to him – not just the dark, elegant handsomeness, but the manifest air of being a person who mattered, who made the rest of the world sit up and take notice and play by his rules – and while he knew that Morozov was ruthless, he wasn’t bothered by that and was willing to do the same when it was called for. Ivan didn’t see the world as some nice candy fairy place where good deeds were always rewarded and violence was always wrong, not least since he knew full well that it didn’t work like that. He didn’t have time for these idiots who thought they would get out there and hold hands and change the world with the power of sunshine and kisses or whatever it was. He didn’t.
Then there was one night when Morozov was at Ivan’s apartment, and they had been drinking and making big plans for ruling the world behind the scenes, and Ivan forgot himself entirely and leaned over the table and kissed him. He tried to pull back almost at once, but Morozov didn’t resist. In fact, he leaned in and put a hand behind Ivan’s head and kept him there, and in that moment, Ivan knew that while this might not be personally objectionable for Sasha (his sexuality was undiscussed but evidently fluid), that wasn’t the reason he was going along with it. It was because he knew instinctively that it was a perfect way to control Ivan, to harness his attraction and his weakness and his willingness to go along with whatever Sasha wanted, and in that, despite all the big plans they had put together and the way Ivan had dreamed of his life changing, it was just Konstantin all over again, and Ivan was straight back at the factory on his knees, small and cornered and powerless. It was visceral and it was wrong and it wasn’t the best he would ever do and he wasn’t, he wasn’t taking that.
They pulled back and Sasha made an enquiring noise, like he wanted to know if Ivan was interested in sealing the deal, and instead Ivan ordered him to leave right now, get out. That was the end of their friendship; they never spoke to each other again, and when his third year in the army ran out, which he had already taken voluntarily, he left. He got a job at some Moscow industrial plant and it was there, through the friend of a friend, he met Nadia Zhabina. And it turned out that she was queer (the first time he had ever heard the word spoken in a good way, something he wanted to be, something he didn’t mind accepting, rather than as an attack), and it turned out after that that she had a friend she wanted him to meet, only it clearly meant that she thought they should go out. Like. On a date.
Ivan flatly shut her down. He did not date, he did not want to date, he did not think he would be good at dating, he did not want to meet some pansy city boy from Nizhny Novgorod who he would immediately dislike, and he was not going to do it, the end. Only Nadia really seemed disappointed, and maybe it was not the worst thing to try a little. This would backfire terribly, he would get over it, and move on with his life.
In Ivan’s opinion, the first date with Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky was, at least on his own behalf, a modest success. He was unavoidably late, thanks to the bus running behind schedule, but he introduced himself, his hobbies, and made it clear what sort of person he was and what he was interested in. He even sent a polite follow-up text with an invitation to meet again. There. No questions, no confusion, everything very straightforward and clear. Nothing to complain about. That was how you did a date, yes?
It turned out, however, that Fedyor Mikhailovich was either very reticent, or perhaps confused, or maybe he did not even know that they had been on a date and Nadia had not clearly explained to him. Burned by his experiences at home, knowing how easily word could get out to the wrong people, Ivan did not want to bring up the subject explicitly, but he had to admit to a considerable confusion. Maybe Fedyor actually liked to just mince around Moscow city parks together, like something out of a Tolstoy novel, or to sit on his couch and watch bad American action movies together. (Later, Ivan learned that Die Hard is actually something of a cult classic, but it’s still slightly lost on him.) That wasn’t bad, because Ivan – to his great bafflement and wariness – liked spending time with him. Fedyor wasn’t like him at all, but they clicked nonetheless. He was the exact kind of idealistic activist that Ivan had long disdained, but it was different with him. When Fedya talked, he liked to listen, to dream about a world that really did work that way. It didn’t, but it felt closer.
Besides that, he was cute. He was well-put together. He was charming and vivacious and could talk to people that they met, while Ivan stood scowling with his hands in his pockets and wondered how long this was going to take. He really desperately wanted to kiss Fedya (and for that matter, do other things to him), and he found himself thinking about it a lot. But what if it was like with Sasha again, and it was either Ivan opportunistically taking it for himself, or Fedya selfishly trying to keep him there, to use him for his own purposes? Maybe Fedya was the idiot. He had to know they were together, right? Or were they together? Ivan suddenly wasn’t sure. Damn it! Why didn’t Fedyor subscribe to the school of just being clear about things? Ivan himself had nothing to do with the problem.
But then there came that night, and Fedya cooking dinner and stumbling through trying to ask him if they were maybe something, and in that moment, Ivan found it all so hilarious that the only thing he could do was sit there and let the whole thing play out. Then it turned out, of course, that they were together, and that Fedyor kissed him just as deliciously as Ivan had imagined, and maybe Nadia Zhabina was not so wrong after all.
Maybe she was not wrong in the least.
Ivan takes his supermarket bags to the sunny kitchen of the mostly-remodeled apartment and sets them down. Fedya has picked out all the colors and wallpapers and furniture and paint, and Ivan has done most of the work, since he is gainfully employed as a handyman and repair-person and he doesn’t want to pay some American to half-ass a job that he can do better. The apartment is really quite lovely now. The living room has been done in a pale, springy green, the white plaster moldings washed and repaired, all the junk of the previous owner finally cleared out except for one or two collectibles that they decided to keep. There’s a bookshelf and a desk filled with Fedya’s work things, a couch and a television and a coffee table and new curtains. The bedroom is big and airy, with a ceiling fan and new carpets. Framed pictures and art pieces hang on the wall. It looks like a place where real people live.
Ivan makes breakfast, cooking and stirring and brewing the coffee, and puts it all on a tray. It’s Saturday, so of course Fedya is still asleep, and Ivan pads through the apartment to the closed bedroom door, balancing the tray on his hip long enough to open it and cast a strip of light inside. It takes a moment, but Fedyor rolls over, groggy and tousled and very, very cute with his bed-headed dark hair and squinting eyes. “Vanya? What smells so good?”
“Happy birthday, my love.” Ivan sets the tray on the bedside table and leans down to kiss him, as Fedyor makes a happy humming sound and throws his arms around Ivan’s neck, cuddling against him like a barnacle. “I have made you breakfast.”
(His younger self was wrong, and he has never been so glad of it.)
(This was the best, this is the best, this was waiting for him, this kind of happiness could happen for him, and he is grateful beyond all words that he fought for it and believed it until it did.)
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falkreathbard · 3 years
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The Knights of Iron, Knightly Orders Pt. 4
Again I have to thank y'all for your continued support as I write these, I've been having so much fun and the support from the tesblr community and the communities on Discord has been amazing. This time I'm gonna let y'all vote, do I do the Knights of Mara or the Kynaran Order next? Lemme know in your responses!
There are few Knightly Orders in Tamriel with a history as storied as the Knights of Iron, but perhaps this is to be expected, as the Iron Knights are servants of Zenithar and champions of the people. Their job is to ensure that trade is conducted in a fair manner, the laborers and craftsmen are properly compensated for their work and act as a sort of union for them. If laborers believe they are being treated unfairly or wickedly, and the master turns a blind eye to it, then they call the Knights of Iron to sort things out providing a voice for the voiceless.
In addition to this, the Knights of Iron also ensure that trade caravans are protected as they travel through Tamriel, they help survey marketplaces and guard banks, and they are the ones who defend the Imperial Mint, and crack down on counterfeiters and rogue wizards using illegal alteration magic to turn iron into gold.
Unlike most Knightly Orders, being a priest of Zenithar is not required for entry into the Iron Knights as they firmly believe that protecting the sanctity of the trade is a duty that everyone is responsible for. Training to become a Knight of Iron includes lessons on economics and civics, provincial and imperial law, how to use and maintain arms and armor, and the fundamentals of alteration and illusion magic and how to dispel both. They’re also taught ways to combat fraud and counterfeiting, the exchanging of currency, and appraising quality of goods in order to ensure that local, provincial, and imperial trade is quick, fair, and free from fraud.
Prospective knights are sent to Leyawiin to receive their education. And it's from here that they're sent to other offices across the Empire in order to aid their brothers and sisters in the fight against corruption and oppression of the working classes. Most offices also double as temples of Zenithar, and operations are held in a side building as to not disrupt the worship services. After their initial training most prospects are assigned to offices around Tamriel before ascending to Knighthood, it is typically after a year of service in the training corps that they are promoted and given more dangerous assignments such as guarding caravans, defending local banks, and investigating fraud and counterfeiting rings. Only the most seasoned knights are given assignments to Imperial money institutions and combating alteration fraud, as those operations tend to be more organized and dangerous than your standard fraud ring. Most offices also offer basic martial training to people in the community, in addition to hosting meals and food pantries for the less fortunate.
Naturally, the greatest enemy that the Knights of Iron have isn’t bandits raiding caravans or counterfeiting rings, no, the greatest enemy that the Knights of Iron have to face is the nobility and wealthy of Tamriel. This is not to say that all nobles and wealthy persons are enemies of the Iron Law, but there are some who believe that wealth is a free pass to oppress the workers they perceive as being underneath them, not pay their share of taxes, inflate prices on trade goods, or attempt to dodge the laws of the Empire by moving provinces. It is in these cases that the Knights of Iron are contacted either by workers who are being treated unfairly, merchants affected negatively, or other nobles. After a situation is reported to them, the Knights are quick to investigate the charged party and collect evidence of wrongdoing, and if it is found, bring this evidence to the Imperial Court or, if aggressed, handle it themselves using the full might afforded to them.
The armor of the Knights of Iron is made of padded leather and chainmail worn under a simple yet well made set of travelling robes. Knights are encouraged to commission the armor themselves when they reach their assignment using the allowance granted by the temple in order to gain a rapport with local craftsmen and familiarize themselves with the culture of the area they’re in. This leads to almost every set of armor being unique due to the materials available, the style of the craftsmen, the culture of the area, and personal modifications made by the Knight in question. This serves a dual purpose, the other craftsmen will see the Knight wearing armor made by a local smith, and the laborers will recognize that the Knight is an outsider but one they can trust as they dress like they do. The only thing made by the Knights themselves are the badges of office, which are iron coins marked in gold with the rank of the wearer.
The weapons wielded by the Knights of Iron are also commissioned from local craftsmen, and take the shape of a simple longbow and a basic unadorned sword emblazoned with the symbol of Zenithar on the pommel. These weapons are symbolic as well as practical, as the sword represents the rule of law and the bow represents the willingness to provide for the people of Tamriel, being a common tool used to provide food and security to the home. This also allows the Knights of Iron to travel with caravans posing as simple hired muscle, instead of the trained and hardened warriors that they are.
Ranks of the Knights of Iron are presented in four categories (Student, Knight, Officer, Leadership) with three ranks each.
Students: Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman
Knights: Iron-Knight, Knight-Sergeant, Knight-Captain
Officers: Knight-Justice, Knight-Juror, Senior Knight
Leadership: Chief Justice, High Juror, Knight-Commander
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yandere-wishes · 4 years
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Aquaphobia //Yandere Leviathen x reader//
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Oh, have I never mentioned that I am MORTIFIED of water and literally any sea creatures...no? It must have slipped my mind.
For this story, I'm making a few assumptions. 1) Levi can turn into some sort of sea monster-like thing I'm assuming it looks like a cross between a Megladon/Giant squid/ Sea serpent. 2) He can communicate with sea creatures. 3) The giant horrifying aquarium that basically makes up his back wall is in reality linked to either an ocean or somewhere that houses a bunch of dangerous sea beings. 4) In addition to sea animal communication Levi posses Aquakinesis
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For as long as you can remember water has always haunted you.
The large bodies of H2O particles have never failed to shake you to your very core. 
In every single nightmare you ever recall, you are drowning in one of those shallow blue celestial bodies. The colorless liquid invading your mouth, clawing its way to where your lungs rested, joyously filling and choking them. 
Sea roamers of all kinds flocked to your drowning corps, millions of eyes drinking in your defenseless form, from the beady black shark eyes to the yellow cyclops eye of a giant squid. A fraction of a second later and those beastes were sinking their fangs into your tender flesh, large tentacles wrapping themselves around an arm or leg and tugging it until it detached from the rest of your corps. 
But in the end, you always woke up, always resumed your day as if nothing had come to pass the night before, back then you knew that it was only a nightmare....however this time you weren't so sure. 
Out of all seven brothers you'd always dreaded Leviathan the most. You had nothing against his "otaku" like ways or his unkempt appearance. No, it was simply what he was that made you keep your distance. 
Yet the third born seemed to have other plans for you. Leviathan hates "normies", the average demons and humans that overpopulate the earth, mocking those like him who have hobbies and likings that are "abnormal" in their eyes, forcing them to live shameful lives of isolation. Due to the superiority of normies in all three realms Levi had never once come across someone as abnormal as himself...that was until the new exchange student had arrived. At first, they had seemed to be just like anyone else, a normal human with absolutely nothing extravagant about them. But as time progressed Levi became aware of just how similar the two of them were. She would spend hours talking to Mammon about the newest anime or the latest level of the video game she was playing. Her tone was always so excited and pure, eyes gleaming and radiating happiness. But Mammon never understood, he simply scuffed and made some degrading comment about her being a nerd or worst then Levi. 
Maybe it was then and there that Levi had decided you were the one. That if anybody angel, demon or human would ever understand him, ever be this alike to him, it would be you, it had to be.
You didn't want to go to his room. You'd avoided it like the plague after Mammon had described the bathtub bed and giant aquarium that drew its water from one of the Devildom's massive oceans. The avatar of greed had even vividly described how the ceiling tiles could pull away, reveling yet another large aquarium for a roof. 
It sounded worst than any haunted house, a place you would never dare venture into. But this time you didn't have a choice, try as you may you couldn't get out of this. 
Earlier that day you'd awaken to something cold and yet trailing down your visage. The mere texture of the substance had jolted you from your slumber, the fear of the colorless liquid had bounded itself deep into your body's habits and subconscious. Eyes dilate, body frozen, tears at the brink of falling. A moist want reached out and cupped your chin, turning your neck too briskly that you were sure you heard a few bones "pop". A squeal escaped your lips only to be met with an instantaneous "shh, be quiet".  Your (eye color) orbs landed on the third born, his eyes housed a sort of sick glee it matched the sadistic twisted smirk he dawned on his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, maybe it was the fact that you'd just awoken and your brain was still partly asleep. Either way, you could have sworn that Leviathan's teeth had somehow changed. They where long and jagged, bending at roots were they sprouted from his gums, to top off the horror thin lines of thick juicy crimson highlighted the tips and betweens of his shark life teeth. 
By now you had begun to sob, tears flowing non stop from your puffy red eyes. Your body was frozen you dared not move, vocal cords had given up and your tongue laid dead at the bottom of your mouth.
"Hello, princess sleep well?" Despite it seeming so innocent there was a sort of mocking laced into the question.
You noticed something in his other hand. A large familiar blue-colored plushy with a gasmask was suffocating in this grasp. That was a rare collectible you'd somehow managed to win from a Crain game back in the human world. You never slept a night without, feeling safe whenever you held it in your embrace. When you'd arrived in the Devildom you'd practically begged Lucifer to retrieve it for you. It had taken all so many tears and tantrums, in addition, to agree to take over his chores for the course of two months. The day the firstborn had carelessly tossed it to you, had probably been the second happiest day of your life. 
Levi let out a cruel giggle as he brought your prized possession closer to your face. His long nails dug into the fabric of its forehead as he dangled it before your eyes. "It's kinda cute, what show is it from?" This time round he sounded genuin, no inanity to be heard. Yet you didn't speak still petrified and stiff. 
One heartbeat
two heartbeats
three heartbeats--
"Fine! What you won't talk to me cause you think you're better than me?!" You shook your head slowly, the gesture barely being noticeable. Yet he picked up on it. He let out another string of offensive giggles "You're scared, right? Afraid the big bad sea monster will eat you?". Oh, God how desperately you wished you could run. Find Mammon or Lucifer and cling to them. To find any means to get away from this monster. 
His fingers fell from your face, he turned without saying another word and made his way to the door. As he opened it, he called behind his shoulder. " If you want it back, come to my room at midnight and come alone" He then slammed the door abandoning you to your thoughts and terrors. 
In short, that was why you were standing in front of the door that would lead you to your personal hell. You had no desire to step foot into his room and yet it was the sole means to retrieving your stuffed monster. Hesitantly you lifter your hand to knock, your finger had not touched the wood when the door creaked open and something slithered around your arm and dragged you into Leviathan's room. 
"I-I'm h-here know p-please give it back--"
Your back collided with the cold tiled floor. You let out a scream of pain before Levi's hand was shoved over your mouth. 
"Be quiet would ya?" His orange and purple orbs gazed into your wide mortified eyes. He let out a sigh and his gaze softened. "(Y/N)...I-I've never felt this way about anyone before...well maybe Ruri-chan and Sugar Frenzy's lead singer for a short period of time, oh and this one...nevermind! Look I-I feel like your something different okay. I g-guess that I have a little crush on you. Noting big alright! But-but what do you say (Y/N) will yo be mine? We'd make a great couple! We like the exact samethings, share practically the same opinions. We are meant to be one!" Slowly he lifted his hand from your mouth, an excited smile playing at his lips, his eyes sparkled with joy and exhilaration. Maybe if you'd have time to think this trough you would have felt bad about what you next words where. 
The second his hand was removed from your mouth you shouted.
"NO! No no no no no! Never! I can't I just can't your a freaking sea monster you--"
No sooner had the words left your mouth that you felt your head accelerate forward and then get smashed on the wet hard floor. The notion repeated again and again. You where sure you were bleeding, some sort of concussion must have formed, your sight was blurry and spots were dancing everywhere. 
"You stupid normi! You tricked me! I thought you were like me! That would actually love someone like me! You made me freaking fall in love with you, you bitch!" 
He twisted your head to the side and pushed your face into the floor. "You're scared of water aren't you? Your sacred of what lives in the water too right? Is that why you don't love me (y/n)? Cause I'm some sort of water freak? Well? Damit answer me!"
"Yes" you choked out "y-yes L-Leviathan, I'm scared of you!" He let out a furious sigh, his tail wrapped around your neck and hosted you up pressing you into the glass of the aquarium. An odd noise filled to room, something alike to buzzing yet..somehow very different. "You know what's funny (y/n)? I may be some sort of freak, but I'm also the only thing keeping you safe from the horrors behind the class." 
Something was swimming closer and closer, it's figure getting bigger and bigger. The teeth and large snout and hulking dorsal fins soon became evident what was coming toward you. You screamed, the noise echoed and bounced from one wall to the next. Your throat started to bleed and go raw, your mind blank with the loud ringing of alarms or was that your heart trying to break your ribcage and runaway?
As the monstrous shark swam only a few centimeters away from the glass, you could feel the sensitivity and life drain from your corpse, blackness taking over. You tried to remain awake to grip on to conscious, darkness was not friendly for it only showed the monsters face, the image burned permanently into your brain. 
As you slipped away into a stygian dream world, Levi brought your limp body to his chest cradling you gently and sweetly kissing your forehead. He waved a hand dismissively at his "pet" and watched for a second as it swam away. He lifted you up and brought you over to his bed. Placing you carefully inside. He placed your stuffy next to you and stood up admiring the aesthetic of your sleeping form. You were so gorgeous when you weren't scared or defensive. 
"You're mine (y/n), finally! I'm never going to let anyone else come near.. you never!"
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schoolbellsystems · 3 years
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Synchronized Clocks Do So Much Today
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Clocks are synchronized oftentimes today in institutions, companies, and organizations as a means to enhance procedure flow performance. Integrated clocks aid to eliminate complications developing from time disparities, to avoid bottlenecks, as well as to work with functions that would certainly otherwise be diverse. Consequently of implementing this operational technique, administrations amass increased performance and the gurgling up of advancement.
Integrated clocks are crucial parts of several applications throughout a range of business ventures, however we see a commonality amongst them in terms of three basic purposes. The first objective is to transmit, or signal, concurrently to all workers, a temporal event, comparable to sounding an institution bell. The 2nd function is to get a precise measurement of period in between two occasions, and also the 3rd purpose is to streamline manufacturing handoffs and/or eliminate wait time for either event.
The very first purpose is rather usual and takes place in scores of different setups. News of school settings up or classroom adjustments recognize to most, as are factory whistles signifying shift adjustments or breaks. In general, things run more efficiently when everybody included is in best sync.
An instance of where the second objective is necessary is in a hospital where a client is relocated among different wards or various other places. Visualize that a minimum period needs to pass between managements of does, or between ingestion of fluids as well as some procedure. The graph will take a trip with the patient, but it will be accurate only if all clocks are integrated.
Production line are where the third purpose becomes critically obvious, especially where handoffs occur between lines. Preferably, neither the supplying event neither the obtaining party needs to wait. Synchronization makes it possible to converge on the suitable.
We tend to consider synchronizing watches by hand, taking a look at one understood to be accurate while establishing the other to the very same worth. But errors are easy with such an approach and also collect with each repeating. Better is the master protagonist clock broadcasting a synchronization signal to all various other (slave) wrist watches all at once.
Synchronization signals can be sent over a wired network, however innovation has evolved to the point where wireless communications have won the day. Maintenance and also setup prices are much reduced, essential equipment is easily movable, as well as federal government laws have actually dealt with problems with superhigh frequency disturbance.
Allow's currently see how integrated clocks have worked out in practice. We look at the benefits originated from the three functions we laid out over, starting with temporal events.
Colleges are the epitome of announcing temporal occasions, where taking full advantage of instruction time is paramount and also as a result decreasing time in between periods is a vital as well as worthy objective. Yet occasionally the path from one class to the next crosses school extremes, hence developing a reduced time frame. Yet the limit would be even worse without simultaneity of bell ringing, and confusion would follow.
Precisely determining temporal intervals is the emphasis of the second function, and also we cited the health center setting as an archetype of where this goal is important. Indeed, anesthesiologists rely upon accurate info to choose that might possibly cause life or death. Synchronization has come through in these cases, and costly errors have been significantly reduced.
We can describe the 3rd function as temporal dovetailing, as well as our instance given pertained to simplifying handoffs between production line areas. Synchronization has also aided in this area, resulting in the indispensable advantages of minimized staff member interruptions, stress, and also wait times.
In general terms, running company operations like "clockwork" rises performance and also promotes a lot more technology as laborious tasks are decreased or removed. We expect this fad to continue, even as synchronized clocks currently do so much today.
synchronized school bell system
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cobrakiin · 3 years
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I Wouldn't Fall For Someone I Thought Couldn't Misbehave
Cojeel | Mentioned Lulev + Stingue | Rated: M (Nothing Super Explicit but ends with Very Spicy Fluff)
When Gajeel signed on for helping re-stabilize the Magic Council after the bombings, he didn't expect all the redundant paperwork, nosy coworkers, or the smokin' hot redhead that likes to play dangerous games with him.
And he should really learn to lock his front door... but why should he? He's practically rewarded for leaving it unlocked!
Aka the post-Rhodonite/Road Knight oneshot that my brain decided to inspire me to write by repeatedly chanting "COBRA SHOW HIS LEGGY" repeatedly until I finished writing it.
[AO3] [FFN]
________________________
"Everything okay?"
"Nn?"
"You've been quiet," Levy reiterated.
"'Course I am, I've got all these bullshit reports to do," Gajeel grumbled, motioning to the mess of papers on his desk. "If I'd known helping clean up after the Council was gonna involve so much goddamn paperwork, I would've told 'em I can't read and saved a hundred trees."
"That's very noble of you," Levy said, unconvincingly flat. She leaned her elbow on her desk, resting her chin in her hand. Her honey brown eyes narrowed, watching him suspiciously. "I meant that you haven't seemed to be your usual self recently. You've been way more distracted lately."
He snorted dismissively. "I ain't you. Sue me for findin' never-ending paperwork boring."
"Come to think of it," Levy ploughed on, "It started right after that mission to recapture that Oracion Seis member." She tapped her index finger against her chin, feigning thought. "And he got away…"
Gajeel sharply eyed her.
His position in the New Magic Council was… unique. Gajeel was only handed cases regular Rune Knights couldn't handle - he was a Dragonslayer whose magic made near-unbreakable iron objects and also happened to be an expert tracker, so he became the guy who could track and capture the more elusive, difficult targets.
An escaped, dark mage Dragonslayer? Right up his alley.
Officially… Gajeel had found Cobra, but the sudden issue of an active child trafficking ring took precedence and Cobra 'got away' in the mess of it all.
Unofficially… Gajeel had found Cobra and they'd exchanged blows at first. Testing each other until Cobra's real target had revealed itself. Then the two Dragonslayers tore those kidnappers to shreds. Once the kids were safe with Council forces, Gajeel had managed to track Cobra down again a few remote towns over. (Gajeel tracked him; Cobra didn't 'let' Gajeel find him again - nope! Finding him again was all Gajeel!) And that's where everything got a lot messier and a lot hotter… and a lot stickier...
Dragons were very much creatures that abided by the Universal Law of the Four F's - food, fight, flee, or fuck - sometimes there was a Fifth F in there, too… something about "Friend" or whatever.
Gajeel meeting Natsu? Fight on sight.
Meeting Laxus? Yeah, there was a Fight, but Gajeel was a little more honest with himself these days that he had actually wanted to Flee the Thunder God.
Wendy and Rogue? He guessed that's where "Friend" came in. Maybe also Food somewhere mixed up in there; they both really needed to eat more. That counted, right?
That blonde idiot mated to his brother? Well… if Sting weren't practically plastered to Rogue's side every waking minute of the day, Gajeel wouldn't mind a Fight with him. (Besides, the guy reminded him too much of Salamander.)
But meeting Cobra? That was the first time his inner dragon skipped past all the other F's - looked right at that cocky little shit-eating elf - and decided on Fuck. And it soon became apparent that Cobra's inner dragon had come to the same conclusion about Gajeel.
It was not at all what he had expected when he'd been handed that case file. He'd expected a Fight and not a Fuck. And while he got both - he was getting plenty of the second one. Even now.
He wasn't stupid: Cobra would do a lot more good out there slaughtering slavers than locked back up for, what? Crimes he committed as a teenager? (Following that mission, Gajeel had checked what was left of Cobra's file after the bombings. While he was sure the redhead had done much worse than what was in there, legally all they could hold him on now was "association with dark mages" and a couple of assassinations they "suspected" him of.) Killing traffickers the Council couldn't (or wouldn't) go after was basically community service, in Gajeel's opinion.
An added plus to all that "community service" was that Cobra sometimes showed up after Gajeel was done with a mission. Always approached him alone, always knew where they wouldn't be seen, always teasing so many somethings without saying anything directly. And sometimes whispered somethings led to somewheres - like the bed of a shitty inn for the night or a tent deep in the woods... or that alley behind that diner that one time.
"It's okay to give yourself some slack, you know," Levy's voice dragged him unwillingly out of his thoughts. "Sure, you didn't catch him. But you saved twelve kids and stopped more from being kidnapped. That's an accomplishment, too!"
Gajeel rolled his eyes. He 'hasn't been himself'... tch, yeah - 'cause he's been getting regularly fuckin' laid! He wanted to brag and practically had to bite his tongue to force himself not to.
"I don't really care that much about catching him," he half-lied. He did want to catch Cobra - to keep chasing and catching him, over and over - he just didn't want to arrest the poison dragon. "I ain't beating myself up over that. I've- Look. It's somethin' else, okay?"
The short bluenette blinked her surprise at him before her mouth widened into a smirk. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she said, pretending to go back to her own stack of reports. "I thought you might have been upset about the Cobra situation. But from that reaction, I'd almost guess you were seeing someone."
Gajeel forced a scowl in an attempt to squash the heat rising to his face. "So? Even if I was - and I'm not sayin' I am - it's not a fuckin' crime." Except that in his case, it most certainly was. He snorted indignantly. "I didn't bother you half this much when you an' cosplay girl went away on that gal-pal trip to that couples-only hotspring."
Levy's eyebrows immediately arched at that. "Gajeel, you sent me a text message that contained a book, a bunny, and a scissor emoji. Fourteen times." She shook her head. "Lucy saw it and almost passed out from embarrassment because she doesn't know what a kind, supportive asshole you are."
He spluttered. "Don't remember, didn't happen."
"If you ever start dating someone, just know I'm going to have my revenge. Tenfold."
TWUNNNG.
The sound of a lone, reverberating guitar string being plucked played as his lacriphone buzzed in his pocket. (With his tough skin, he couldn't always feel when his phone vibrated. When he had first started using it, he had the notification sound set to an annoyed cat's meow, but Pantherlily refused to go out on missions with him if he didn't have his phone set to silent. Reluctantly, he'd change it to a guitar twang to appease his friend.)
The lock screen showed he had two messages from a number he didn't recognize.
The first message was an image. Taken from a bathtub... his bathtub! In his house! A leg - warm chestnut skin dripping wet as soap streaked down the exposed, toned thigh - casually hung over the side of his bathtub, suds and the shimmer of the overhead light on the water obscuring anything more tantalizing lurking below.
Light, faint purpling could be seen on the inner flesh of the thigh, and Gajeel's mouth went half-dry at the memory of suckling and pinching the soft skin there between his fangs.
The second message flat-out taunted Gajeel: [You should really learn to lock your doors, Mr. Councilman... who knows what kind of criminal could break in?]
Gajeel could practically feel the blood rushing from his rapidly blanking mind to somewhere much, much lower. He managed to hold back the approving, dragonish purr that threatened to rumble from his very core.
"So you are seeing someone," Levy troublesomely commented over Gajeel's shoulder, causing Gajeel to jolt and nearly fumble his phone onto the floor. That sneaky little shrimp! When the fuck did she even get there?! "You know, you don't have to hide it, we're friends. Who is she?"
Right. The pic was only of a leg. (And it was a fuckin' nice leg, the guy had a great pair of them with a perfect, shapely ass to match.) All Levy had seen was a leg. Sent from a burner phone, not that she'd know that just from the quick peek. Nothing identifiable.
Taking a few calming breaths, Gajeel grit his fangs in a friendly yet dismissive frown. "It's a he, Shrimpy. Don't go makin' assumptions 'bout who I bed." Despite how they picked on each other, she was his friend, and he'd toss her that one bone. "And he would prefer if my work life didn't go poking into our personal life. As a matter of fact, so would I."
Levy feigned thought for a moment. But the teasing, troublesome glint in her eyes remained. "You mean to tell me that he doesn't want to be seen with a grown man that collects Hello Kitten merchandise and refuses to lock his own front door?"
________________________
It was impossible to ignore the other male's scent in his home, warmly dampened by a recent bath. Gajeel tossed his uniform coat on the hook by the door and kicked his boots off in a hurry. The scent carried into the kitchen, where it was obvious a certain home invader had definitely helped himself to the contents of Gajeel's fridge, and he followed it to the living room and to who he knew was waiting there for him.
Gajeel knew who he was dealing with by now: Cobra went where he pleased, when he pleased. Nothing could hold him in one place for long and, knowing how much Cobra valued his freedom, Gajeel didn't care to try. Besides... the redhead was just as enticing whether he was standing in front of him or walking away - neither was a bad view.
And it wasn't a bad view that waited for him at all.
Freshly bathed and stretching the length of the couch lounged a certain redheaded poison dragon. His hair was still damp and… and Gajeel had to blink a few times, because Cobra was wearing his clothes: a loose black t-shirt and pair of gray sweatpants, both a little big on his lithe frame.
"What," the lounging elf playfully sneered, "Did you stop for flowers?"
Gajeel crossed the space between them in two strides and practically dove into the arms of the smaller man. Their mouths met and the battle for dominance began. And Cobra pulled, fought back in their embrace; he didn't lay there passively. Cobra was flexible and could move with ease, but Gajeel had more mass on his side and used it to his advantage as he rolled them both off the couch and onto the carpet.
He managed to pin Cobra beneath him, settling his hips between Cobra's legs, and almost losing all rational thought as he rutted against him.
The iron dragon's lips parted as a husky growl rumbled from his throat and slipped out past his fangs: "So ya broke in, used all my hot water, stole my clothes, and cleaned out my fridge? And you expect me to let you get away with that for free?"
Gajeel was far from mad. Cobra being in his house, seeing Cobra wearing his clothes, knowing his mate was sated by food he provided - it was all pulling right at that primal, possessive side of him in all the right ways.
"Not breaking in if you don't lock your doors," Cobra replied cooly. "You were practically asking for it."
Gajeel wanted to fuck him through the goddamn floor right there and then.
"Let's play a game," Cobra said, mouth still so close that their lips brushed with each word, single violet eye glinting up at the man above him.
"Yeah? Since when do you wanna play games...?"
Smirking, Cobra pulled back, knowing just how to egg Gajeel on: "If you're afraid you'll lose, I could always-"
Gajeel silenced him with a kiss, pressing him firmly against the floor with his body. "I like winning games," he rumbled, "'Specially against you."
"If I can pin you to the couch, I get to fuck you," Cobra explained the first part of the game.
The iron dragon immediately perked to attention. He loved when Cobra spoke dirty, and loved the sound of this game - just as much as Cobra knew he would. "That sounds kinda one-sided," he said, though he shifted his weight in anticipation anyways.
"Let me finish," the redhead scolded him, enjoying the way Gajeel's breath hitched as he pressed himself flush against him. Cobra's hand slid between them, sliding down, and his palm paid special, gripping attention to a growing bulge in Gajeel's pants. "If you can get me upstairs, you can tie me to the bed and do whatever you want to me."
Gajeel clenched his eyes shut as Cobra's hand squeezed suddenly, firmly, as a faint groan escaped him. "Really, you're s-sure?"
"Yeah," Cobra confirmed. It hadn't been too long ago that the thought of being tied up and fucked would have made him recoil, but he trusted Gajeel. He knew Gajeel had a thing for bondage and trusted him to not take things too far - and Gajeel wanted to show him that trust was not misplaced.
Iron claws surfaced and flexed, hungry fangs peeked out of Gajeel's mouth in barely contained urge. "Funny, you gave yourself the closer spot."
"You've got more muscle on your side."
"You've got fancy ears, you know what I'm gonna do," Gajeel pointed out.
Cobra gingerly traced a finger down Gajeel's jaw, fangs glinting in a devilish little grin. "When's that ever stopped you...?"
________________________
"Hn?" Gajeel cocked a studded brow, noting how easily his fingers had gone in.
The tied-up redhead under him still somehow managed to scrape up enough cockiness in his voice: "I was ready for either of us to win tonight."
"Ya mean ta tell me that you were up here pleasing yerself in MY bed and you just let me sit at my desk ALL FUCKEN DAY?!"
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