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lairofdragonagelore · 11 months

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Imperial Highway Columns

A compilation of what we know and what we can speculate about this pair of statues that I tagged as Female Kossith/ Desire demon /Tevinter Warrior in the lore blog.

[This post belongs to the series “Analysis and speculation of Statues”]

Where do they appear?

These statues appear few times in DAI:

In the Fade, aligned with the colossus statue of Andraste [check The Raw Fade - Part 1].

In the Hissing Wastes in what seems to be a very old ruin that we don’t know its original purpose for sure, probably as old as Fairel’s Thaig [check Hissing Wastes: Venatori main camp].

In the Emprise du Lion, where it is explicitly said that it was conserved from the original design of the Imperial Highway [check Emprise du Lion: Pools of the Sun and Sahrnia and surroundings]

And the Shattered Library, in particular at the entrance of the Inverted Ward [ check the Shattered Library; Inverted Ward]

Why they appear in those places?

If we remember the codex The Laws of Nature in the Fade, we can understand that the objects with the purpose of connection will appear in the Fade reinforcing such purpose. If the Imperial Highway helped to connect cities, it seems natural to have a reflection of it in this Shattered Library which also had a connection purpose: according to The Archivist’s words, cities were connected through records and elvhen through shared memories [let’s remember that the Shattered Library was originally too entangled with the Fade and may have some Fade-propierties such as reflecting parts of the Waking World].

That these statues appear in the Emprise du Lion is only natural and obvious: they are decorations of the ancient Imperial Highway that crossed this region.

However, the presence of these statues in the Hissing Wastes is not that clear. The map of Thedas with the Imperial Highway seems to suggest that it reached deep into this zone but somehow, it disappeared [probably due to the same event that turned this green, forest-like zone into a barren desert, more details in Hissing Wastes: Venatori main camp]. Only a small bifurcation that dies soon into the region can be seen in the map. Considering that the Fariel’s dwarves developed a surface Thaig here, and were a house focused on runes [which were used in the construction of Kirkwall, read Kirkwall history and design for more details], potential trade relationships with Tevinter may have been established, and therefore, makes sense for the Imperial Highway to reach this place. For reasons unknown, it disappeared. Or as we see it in the game, they are underground, covered by sand.

Lore and design

I think that a reliable piece of lore we can grab for these statues is the one presented in Emprise du Lion: These statues are Tevinter-made, and are, in fact, the columns that have been decorating the Imperial Highway since a long time ago.

It’s true that DAO showed to us a different Highway, a lot simpler, but I guess we can agree that the engine limitations worked against them.

So, if they are Tevinter-made, this means that the iconography they show belong to an ancient Tevinter perspective. This gives us the context in which we should be placing them: Ancient Tevinter, even though we know very little about it. Let’s try to analyse each of them.

The man holding the sword

The statue of the Tevinter Warrior has the following details:

Thanks to World of Thedas and Art of Inquisition books, we know that this figure--and that helm in particular--represents a Tevinter Warrior. There is also a chance for it to represent a Venatori warrior in particular. Since Venatori are extremist nationalists, their symbols are deeply entangled with Tevinter iconography so it is always difficult to separate what’s Venatori from what it is national design.

His helmet has a spike that reminds Andraste’s helm as well. In the Fade they are aligned in a way that the game suggests the player to make that connection. But we also know that Mythal and Andraste are linked in the same fashion through a single-spiked helm, so the fact that a Tevinter warrior wears this helmet has equal chances to represent him as honouring Andraste or an Old God/Great Dragon as Mythal was.

A snake surrounds him.

His figure rests against a structure which is filled with thorns or spikes similar to the object I called “Tevinter artefact with spikes”.

On his back, he has more or less 10 skulls and long bones aligned as if he were resting against a backrest chair made of them.

He holds a sword which hilt looks like a face in a triangular shape. It is not clear to me if this figure represents the Archon or something else. It may also be related to the dragon-like single face we find in Nation Art: Tevinter.

In fact, that sword is the representation of Hessarian’s sword with which he killed Andraste out of mercy. We can see it in detail in the triptych I analysed in Andrastian Design: Tapestry and Tryptich. That the Tevinter warrior is holding the same sword related to the death of Andraste, may relate him to the Archon Hessarian, but also to the conversion that Tevinter had in that old time to the Andrastian’s Faith. If this Tevinter warrior represents a Venatori, as the books of Art and World of Thedas seem to suggest, it would be used as a symbol of the sword that killed Andraste who put in danger the faith of the Old Gods [we spoke about the context of Andraste’s Exalted March on Tevinter in the post “The Chantry and the Mythology of the Chant of Light”]. What annoys me of this interpretation is that we are assuming this sword is related to Andraste in a time when Andraste was still not born. The Imperial Highway had been developed long time before she began the Prophet of the Maker, so this sword should be related to Tevinter ancient symbols and not recent ones. So I’m assuming it may represent a national symbol of power of an Archon, or his hierarchy, therefore, it makes sense for Hessarian to use it during the burning of Andraste. What a I mean is, maybe this sword is an Archon symbol of power [as it is his rings] and it is as ancient as Tevinter itself.

If this sword represents the power or the hierarchy of an Archon, the fact that it is present in these statues implies that the Tevinter/Venatori Warrior is, in fact, an Archon. Or may represent the military power at the hands of the Archon in the Ancient Tevinter. As we can see, it’s not clear why this sword, with such a strong symbolism, is here and what it represents.

It’s also curious that the replica of this sword in DA2 [ Blade of Mercy], has nothing to do with this design.

The horned woman, or female kossith or potential desire demon

She has horns. They don’t look like the same kind of horns we have seen in desire demons, which are longer and go backwards and then forward and have some complexity in their design. In fact, the base of her horns look more similar to Qunari’s [look at the Arishok]. These horns also look a bit similar to the ones we saw in the Viddasala or in the Tamassran in the comic. This is one of the main reasons why I always tended to think in it as a Kossith, and not a demon.

She has pointy ears, which again, it’s not the design of the desire demons. I like to highlight that the fact that desire demons have rounded ears is not only present in DAO, but in DA2 [check the visuals of Xebenkeck, who shares their design]. It was in DA2 where the qunari began to show pointy ears. And it became a fact since in DAI and comics we have the reinforcement of these ears. Of course, Sten never had this design because DAO struggled with the design of the Qunari, their horns, and helms.

On her chest and solar plexus there are thick lines that look like veins (of lyrium?). The symbol on her chest resembles the symbol on the chest we found on the main Old God statue in DAO during the Dalish origin [of course, we have to consier the limitations of that old engine]. To me it looks like a sketchy dragon shape. It may, potentially, have some relatinoship with the design of some Vallaslins [specially the ones related to Dirthamen and Falon’Din, which makes sense if we remember that this statue in DAO represents Falon’Din. More details in Dalish Camp and Dalish Origin and Humanoid Dirthamen]

Her neck, head, and left shoulder show some tendrils or texture similar to the one that chastely covers her breasts.

The "thing” around her horns and ears look very similar to the red cord that the Viddasala wears. To me, it is not clear if the statue has some decorative cords there, or it’s part of the strange textures attached to different parts of her body, or it’s a relief that belongs to her horns.

There is a long object that comes out from her legs. It seems to be a snake with a rhomboid scale pattern. It’s not clear if that snake covers her or is being born from her.

Her figure rests against a structure which is filled with thorns or spikes similar to the ones in the object I called “Tevinter artefact with spikes”.

Elements common to both

They are not two different statues put together, but one; each of them resting on the back of the other and wrapped with the same snake. Both rest their backs against an element with spikes [a thorny thick vine?] that resembles a lot the spikes of a Tevinter artefact I called “Tevinter artefact with spikes”. I never could speculate its function.

The snake keeps them in place and wrapped. The snake seem to come out from her groin, so there is meaning in it: she may be giving birth to the Snake, which wraps and keeps in place her figure and the Tevinter Warrior’s. A potential interpretation is that she represents the “Mother of Tevinter”, as important as the military army of Tevinter in the development of the Empire. Or she is deeply “entangled” with the military army of Tevinter [bound spells? Sacrifice for Blood Magic? Slavery?]

Since the snake comes from her and restrains both figures to one another, another interpretation is that through her, Tevinter may have acquired the ability of “binding spells” for military, expansionist purposes considering how much this magic is related to demons, Kossith, Tevinter, and blood magic mixed with Dragons and/or reptiles [check the implications of Tevinter having potentially created the race of the Qunari in Tevinter Mosaics, or the potential of having bound Hakkon to a Dragon in Frostback Basin [DLC]: Ancient Tevinter presence, Speculation].

Both figures are only directly associated with the codex Judicael's Crossing in Emprise du Lion: “Judicael's Crossing's structural supports bear architectural and decorative elements that mimic those of the ancient Tevinter highway it replaced. One can see their like several miles away in the archways rising above the village of Sahrnia. The Andrastian statues that decorate the walkway, however, are entirely Orlesian in style.” This is the main source I use to assume these statues belong to the Imperial Highway as decorative columns that support it. And I trust that the resconstruction of the archways preserved the statues since their reflection in the Fade are exactly the same.

Thanks to the excavation in Hissing Wastes: Venatori main camp, we can relate this pair of statues to the lids of Razikale Ceremony lid and the Horned warrior holding a sword lid too. I already did a long analysis of these lids, and related them to elvhenan in the post Razikale Ceremony and Dumat’s Warrior tablets. They seem to coincide with the hypothesis I’ve been working on for a while in the comic section of the blog, where I have the impression that Tevinter worshipped their own version of ancient gods which Elvhenan worshipped before becaming divine through the stealing of power from Dragons and/or Titans.

Thanks to the Shattered Library; Inverted Ward, we can see their base: they seem to stay onto a small mountain/hill decorated with skulls.

Speculation section

Considering we established already that this pair of statues are of Tevinter origin, more precisely, related to the Imperial Highway, we should be able to develop speculations within the context of the Ancient Tevinter. My goal is to explain what they may represent that gave Tevinter so much pride to repeat it in each column that decorated the Highway all across Thedas.

Two things are of importance to keep in mind when we analyse this:

This is from the time of Ancient Tevinter. The construction of the Imperial Highway was made a long time before the First Blight. We know that part of the stone used to built it was mined by slaves in Emerius [the old name that used to have Kirkwall, details in Kirkwall history and design].

The Highway was used to deliver supplies to far away Tevinter outposts [like in Frostback Basin [DLC]: Razikale’s Reach], as well as to extend their imperial power over the South and to favour businesses with Dwarves.

Speculation 1: She represents a desire demon or a Forbidden One, and the snake that she is giving birth is a representation of how deals with demons helped Tevinter to become an expansionist empire [ check the myth of the Chantry in Threonides 6 from Chant of Light - Part 1, and codices found in Kirkwall, detailed in the post Tarohne, the Fell Grimoire, and Xebenkeck], but also “restrained” or locked it into the deal that was made. The snake may also represent the powerful magic of binding demon that Tevinter used to have and abuse. This magic can be seen in Corypheus and his deep knowledge of how to bind demons to Grey Warden and control the Wardens in the processs.

The Tevinter Warrior represents Tevinter military power, which became more powerful as they added the knowledge of the blood magic school that these demons taught them. It was also thanks to this magic/deal that Tevinter developed into a sucessful expansionist empire up to the First Blight. The Tevinter Warrior may also represent a Venatori, implying that this radical group existed since ancient times [I don’t think we have lore to support this interpretation, however]

PROS

The man in the sculpture represents a generic Tevinter Warrior, mostly a symbol of the military power of an expansionist Empire. We must remember these sculptures appear in the Imperial Highway which was a construction that allowed Tevinter to expand and conquer the South and deliver supplies to its outposts. It was through the military aspect that Tevinter invaded and slaved the Alamarri tribes spread all over the South region. So, it makes sense for the main means that allowed the expansion to be represented in a construction that connected the Empire with the invaded regions. This interpretation about the Tevinter Warrior is valid for both speculations.

If she is a demon, it makes sense for her to appear in Tevinter iconography, since we know with some degree of reliability that humans learnt complex Blood magic from demons [read Tarohne, the Fell Grimoire, and Xebenkeck] but we also know that this magic may come from the Elvhenan. We also know that, from all the nations of Thedas, Tevinter is the main one using this school of magic in a regular, yet non-open, way. That she is represented in the Highway may be a symbol of power, a symbol of how she was the means that allowed all what represents the Tevinter Warrior to have power to conquer almost all Thedas in ancient times.

CONS

That the Tevinter Warrior may represent an ancient Venatori seems unlikely, because we don’t have any proof of this group and its activity in ancient ruins, and we explored a lot of them in Western Approach and Hissing Wastes. We don’t know how old Venatori are.

Design counter-argument: If she is a demon, her ears are pointy, which is not the case of desire demons [the kind of demon she resembles the most]. Her horns also differ a lot from the ones that desire demons have.

As I was corrected in the comments, it is true that Tevinter not always hid its use of blood magic [related to the cult of the Old Gods/dragons] and demons. However, when the nation converted to the Andrastian faith, after Andraste’s death, it turned into a “secret” that only happened within closed door. In this case, one would expect images of demons as prolific as the images of Dragons in Ancient Tevinter ruins or Tevinter design/style. However, so far I know, I never saw Tevinter art related to demons, since they may have been seen mostly as Corypheus sees them [implied in the way Corypheus taught Venatori and Grey Warden to bind themselves to them]: mere tools to use, pretty much as the elvhen slaves, which also have no central position in any piece of Tevinter art we saw. So I still think it is odd for Tevinter to openly represent a “dischargeable tool”, something with no value to them, in the Highway, so openly [especially because we have no other examples of demon representations in Tevinter art too].

Speculation 2: The Tevinter Warrior representation holds the same as in the previous speculation. What I change in this second attempt to explain these statues is the female figure: She is a Qunari or a prototype of a Qunari, aka a Kossith, who was used in the development and creation of the Tevinter empire, in the same way as Tevinter Warriors in their military army.

PROS

Her horns and pointy ears are closer to what we have seen in the Qunari design since DA2 than to a desire demon design.

We have been hinted by some characters along the games that Kossith existed and may have been a bit different to the modern Qunari.

Lore-wise, we know that Tevinter used Qunari as slaves and sacrifices in ancient times, according to the Tevinter Mosaics. They were so proud of them that the Qunari ancestors were depicted in these mosaics [in particular in “Sacrifice”] with the detailed face of important magisters.

Through the Tevinter Mosaics, we had speculated that the Qunari seem to be a crafted race by Tevinter [details in Frostback Mountains: Somewhere North], with the purpose of being powerful sacrifices and strong slaves. As such, they may have been, in the beginning, a symbol of what Tevinter could do with its deep knowledge of the arcane, and therefore, a craft they were proud of. Something happened later that made this pride vanish, hence the “corrections” or erasure of horns in these Mosaics. Corypheus also shouts to a Qunari Inquisitor “your race was a mistake”, which seems to fit this idea of Tevinter being proud of their creation but then, after some unknown event [rebellion?], feeling shame of it.

Also, if the Qunari were depicted in the Mosaics without shame [until later, where some horns were erased and appeared some signs of disapproval about them] it makes sense for them to appear in the Highway. As a [potentially] crafted race they were proud of, which helped them to acquire power for expansion and conquer.

CONS

The presentation of the qunari in the Tevinter Mosaics has been done after the First Blight or so [we assume this because the set of mosaics also depict scenes of the Chant of Light and the Magisters being burnt, so the event of stepping into the Black City may have happened after this artist made these mosaics, and also after the blame on Tevinter about the spread of the Blight was installed in the population]. The Imperial Highway is older than the Blights, so the only speculation we can make to keep things consistent is that Qunari [or Kossith] were immensely important in the development of Tevinter since the time of the Neomerian empire but, for some reason, the only old depict we have of them is the one presented in these mosaics. Maybe in DA4, travelling to Tevinter, we will have access to ancient Tevinter information that may enlighten this speculation.

#Analysis and speculation of Statues #Female Kossith/ Desire demon /Tevinter Warrior #imperial highway

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storyofmychoices · 2 years

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I haven't done a WIP or Sunday Six post in FOREVER... but I'm hoping maybe if I go back to it and share some snippets I'm working on, I'll actually have the motivation to finish any of them. So this is my submission for @choicesficwriterscreations's Sunday Six but also things I would like to work on for @wip-wipeout-weekend. I would LOVE to spend the weekend writing. I don't know if I can make the time, but I want to try.

The Bogart Diaries: Painter's Tape Challenge (working title)

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Book: Red Carpet Diaries Rating: General

Thomas followed the sound of her voice toward the kitchen. However, before he could inquire into the cause of the commotion, he darted backward, avoiding the path of Bogart charging toward an obstacle that he cleanly hopped over.

"Dare I ask what it is that you are doing?" He took a hesitant step forward once the path was cleared. His brow arched at the three strips of blue tape strewn between the kitchen island and a row of cabinets.

"Bogart's doing the painter's tape challenge," Alex offered. She scratched the black lab on the head before reaching once more for the roll of tape.

"Should I know what that means?"

Alex and Bogart shared a knowing look. Of course, their favorite Luddite would not be in the know of the latest social media pet challenges. She smiled inquisitively and shook her head. "Probably not."

Summer Rain (working title)

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Book: Red Carpet Diaries Rating: General

Alex focused on the pitter-patter of the summer rain tapping against the window panes of the sunroom. Its soft rhythm created a serene soundtrack. There was something about the rain that always quieted her thoughts. She nuzzled further into his neck, his familiar scent washing over her. A smile pulled on her lips. Her body melted into his as he hugged her closer. Everything was perfect.

Untitled: Repairman RolePlay

Pairing: (Dom!)Levi Schuler x Laura Day Book: Mother of the Year Rating: Mature/Explicit A/N: Requested by @lorirwritesfanfic from ages ago (sorry!)

"Alright," Levi tightened the last fitting. He closed the washing machine's lid and gave it a gentle tap. "It should work now."

"Is that so?" Laura sucked the corner of her lower lip as she waited for him to notice her change in attire. "What do I owe you?" "What do you mean, what do you owe me?" His words trailed off as he turned toward her. His eyes raked down her near-naked form; only a silk robe drawn loosely at the waist separated her from him.

"I must owe you something, Mr. Repairman," she batted her lashes at him. "I forget to go to the bank… perhaps we can come to another arrangement?"

Levi swallowed hard, running his thumb across his lips. She looked so damn innocent standing there, offering herself to him. His eyes darkened with lust. "I'm sure we can figure something out. Would you like to inspect my work?"

Untitled: CoffeeShop AU

Pairing: Levi Schuler x Laura Day Book: Mother of the Year Rating: General

"No, no, no." It almost seemed like slow motion as Laura tried to save the carefully balanced bags and items in her grasp, but they still crashed to the floor before she could do anything about it.

Her lip quivered, her head hanging low. She breathed deeply, searching for the strength to keep going. She reached for her purse, shoving her belongings that had spilled out back into it. Her determination not to cry on their first day in a new town was the only thing keeping the dam of tears from breaking.

"You can do this. You can do this," Laura repeated, gathering the last of Lily's school supplies that had tumbled from their bags. "For Lily." She drew in a deep breath, gathering the last of the objects that poured out.

With her head held high, she reached for the door to the coffee shop but found it open.

"Allow me."

"Oh, thank you." Laura moved forward hesitantly, trying to avoid the gaze of the handsome stranger.

Untitled: CoffeeShopAU

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Book: Open Heart Rating: General

"You gonna talk to her?" Jackie elbowed her coworker lost in thought.

"What?" Bryce shook his head in confusion as if coming out of a trance. "Who?"

"The redhead you've been staring at with nauseating puppy dog eyes for the past fifteen minutes."

"I wasn't staring!"

"Dude, you've been staring at her every day for the past two weeks since she started coming in to do her work here."

"I have not!"

"I hate to agree with Jackie, but you do. You kind of lose yourself when you look at her," Sienna chimed in with a soft smile. "It's kind of romantic. I wish someone would look at me like that…You should definitely go talk to her."

Bryce glanced once more in her direction before turning away and busying himself behind the counter despite not having any new customers.

"You're an idiot."

In Love and War (working title)

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Book: Open Heart Rating: General A/N: Finishing this is my #1 goal for the WIP weekend. It's not even going to be a long fic, just a drabble. 🤦‍♀️

His eyes widened as an arm shot out of the darkness tugging him toward her. “What are you doing?”

Before he could finish the thought, she backed him into a dark corner, hidden from view from those running past, looking for their next target. Her body slid against his, her arms snaking around his neck, pulling his lips toward hers, kissing him hungrily.

His brow quirked up at the sudden public affection. It’s not what he expected, but he’d never turn down the taste of her lips against his.

I also have CoffeeShopAUs for Thomas x Alex and Ethan x Ellie but I'm not ready to share those yet!

#thomas hunt #thomas hunt x mc #thomas hunt x oc #red carpet diaries #levi schuler #levi schuler x mc #mother of the year #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x oc #open heart #wip #wip ideas #choices #playchoices #choices game #fan fiction #lovealexhunt #somc #october2022

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carabas · 4 years

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So I’ve just finished reading the Dragon Age Tevinter Nights anthology, and short reaction: enjoyably hit and miss right up until that final extremely thorough direct hit, thank you Patrick Weekes.

Much, much longer version:

1. I don’t know how reasonable it is to try to extrapolate about what’s going to be in the next game based on a random short story collection, but hey, the novels that came out before DAI were about the mage rebellion, the Orlesian civil war, and eluvians, so.

So things I’m now expecting to see in the next game, aside from the Tevinter-Qunari conflict and Solas of course: Nevarran necromancy, Antivan Crows, Wardens who are struggling with decimated numbers after DAO and DAI (would be the perfect time for Razikale and Lusacan to both wake up at once really), and the Lords of Fortune, a never-before-mentioned Rivaini treasure hunting organization which appeared in I think three different stories here.

Plus a few stories were very much signalling This Specific New Character Will Be Showing Up Again, whether in the games or elsewhere; I'll be shocked if Lucanis the “Demon,” reluctant heir apparent of the Antivan Crows who just got into a cliffhanger conflict with a Tevinter magister, doesn’t have more to do.

2. THERE IS A MAP, there is a great big fantasy map surrounded by nifty little illustrative details to poke at.

There’s a label reading “White Spire,” not in Val Royeaux, but on a mountain beyond the Arlathan Forest. Is that an error or is there really a White Spire mountain? If not an error, has it always been named that or is that new, possibly a new center for the mages after the war, after the original Spire fell? At no point is either Spire mentioned in this book aside from this map.

Lots of astrological sun and moon patterns prominently featured around the edges. Is that one moon chart depicting moon phases or an eclipse? Is it too conspiracy theory of me to be counting the nine dark moons (or spheres? like in that DA4 idol illustration’s seven slots?) on the dragon’s wing? Probably. Or are those spheres a reference to the second moon that never seems to actually be visible, is that missing moon actually deliberate.

Most of the astrological charts are fairly straightforwardly showing sun/moon phases but what is the crowned figure in the one on the lower right meant to represent? The Maker? What’s going on with the horizontal lines passing through it/behind it? The two moons beneath it - is that an illustration of the moon in two phases or being separated into two (metaphorical moon in that case, presumably), do those horizontal lines also indicate separation, do I need to move on from the astrological depictions here, definitely.

Love the big horseshoe crab sea monster.

3. Patrick Weekes’s first story in the collection: halla shapeshifting! An elf named Strife who I fully expected to be revealed as an agent of Fen’harel mimicking ancient elven names like Sorrow and Pride, though I was wrong - would it be charming or just annoyingly unsubtle if that became a thing among his agents. An ancient forest guardian with lyrium blades who hunts magic in a way that struck me an awful lot like a forest-themed equivalent of a golem, though I may be wildly off base with that one.

4. Nevarran necromancy story. An odd bit of the chant to highlight for a funeral: “And the Maker, clad in the majesty of the sky, set foot to earth, and at His touch all warring ceased.” I continue to squint suspiciously at overlaps between Maker and elven god imagery. Also, evidently mortalitasi believe that when someone dies, an inhuman spirit is pushed out from the Fade into the physical world, and that’s part of the reason behind their housing spirits in bodies - neat! The existence of Curiosity spirits, also neat!

5. Is Ghilan’nain’s horrible body horror place supposed to be spelled Hormak like in the title and previous canon references, or Hormok like throughout the text here? I know this was just a mistake but maybe I’ll use this to say that in-world there’s multiple ways of transliterating Dwarven.

6. Lukas Kristjanson story #1, the one featuring approximately a million minor Inquisition character cameos and a meditation on Solas’s regrets, introduces a character with the phrase “free mage by special commendation,” and I was briefly thrown by that little signal that we are Not In My Worldstate, that the mages aren’t all free by default - except then the story went on to destroy Solas’s fresco so I wound up quite grateful for that little heads up that this isn’t my worldstate actually.

(Unfortunately I can’t get into this guy’s writing style at all, which is a shame because it’s one of the big Solas stories in the book.)

7. There’s a little plot point in the Wigmaker Job story that demonstrates those elven artifacts Solas had us activate all over Thedas do indeed strengthen the Veil - like, he wasn’t lying to us about what those orbs do, that is how they work, here we see a Crow stab one in order to deactivate it, weaken the Veil and unleash a horde of vengeful demons. Nice confirmation.

8. Genitivi is the Randy Dowager. (Possibly. At least, Philliam wrote a scene in which Genitivi alludes to being the Randy Dowager. I do appreciate an unreliable narrator but after a certain point it does make the lore hard to keep straight.)

9. By the time we got to the story about adventurers stealing an incredibly powerful healing amulet just to donate it to a mysterious contact at a makeshift hospital trying to help people where the Qunari-Tevinter war has spilled over, I knew better than to expect any cameos from DAO/DA2 characters. And with the mention of the squire, I was pretty sure the mysterious contact was going to be Vaea, and it was. Still. Anders would approve. And for a moment I was fantasizing that it would turn out to be him, or connected to him. A new mental setting for him and Hawke post-mage-freedom - makeshift hospitals at the edge of the invasion, secretly sponsored by a certain pair of absurdly overpowered, dungeon-crawling, treasure-hunting fugitives.

Yes, my Dragon Age interpreting is still all about Anders even when he’s not remotely present.

10. You know, I really expected the leaders of the Crows to be a bit more ruthlessly competent than this. Someone is setting up a grand demonstration, recreating infamous historical assassinations carried out by the Crows but now with the leaders of the Crows themselves as the victims, incredibly flashy, incredibly clearly sending a message, and yet not one of the characters trying to figure out whodunit is speculating about the meaning behind that message??? the motive in going to all that trouble??? it’s all, hm, perhaps it’s the qunari invaders. hm, this one was posed with a pearl necklace just like the one in the historical murder it’s recreating, i bet the culprit owns a pearl-fishing business! I know they’re assassins not detectives but at least show the professional courtesy of paying attention to the message in the show your fellow assassin is putting on for you, geez.

Anyway. Interesting Crow details: they talked about neutral ground and territories divided between the Crow households here, does that just apply to Antiva or like, does Arainai have claim to all jobs in Ferelden?

And the line “Teia's back was bare except for a tattoo marking her as a member of House Cantori” puts Zevran’s tattoos in a slightly different light for me - he’s mentioned that some symbols are sacred to the Crows, and logically it follows that having that symbol tattooed on him would indeed mark him as a Crow to other people in the know, but that his tattoos mark him as belonging to House Arainai is a thing that did not hit me from that.

11. An agent of Fen’harel muttering “Felassan” to activate a rune. In memoriam? Charming. I mean it’s a rune that’s intended to kill an entire city, so possibly the more literal slow arrow is meant, but I’m still charmed.

12. PATRICK WEEKES CLOSING OUT THE BOOK BY JUST DUMPING THE CONTINUING DREAD WOLF HUNT PLOT ON US.

So much.

An actual giant wolf in the Fade, I’m so happy for tumblr user corseque.

A character again raising the possibility that Solas is not an ancient elf but rather a young elf who stumbled onto old magic, a theory I thought debunked by Trespasser but here we are considering it again.

A minor side note that a lot of Kirkwall’s templars went rogue after the explosion - that’s not relevant to the post-DAI plot really, I’m just noting it for my generally-DA2-focused fanfic purposes.

The possibility that somniari (presumably) can kill even dwarves who don’t dream in their sleep. Somniari in general or did Solas personally step in here?

A ritual involving the red lyrium idol resulting in the phrase “As if we were the blood and the cavern the body through which it flowed” right before the POV character enters the Fade, which is a rather Titan-esque turn of phrase.

The Dread Wolf again asserting that all creation is in danger and he’s trying to fix that. A biased POV character recognizing that, huh, funny how those spirits around the Dread Wolf which surely must be demons actually look an awful lot like Justice and Valor.

And Charter’s notes at the end, so direct, not only spelling out the new details on the idol for us (that the figure represents a crowned figure comforting another) but thoroughly hitting us over the head with Solas’s essential characterization in his own words, as if Weekes is still trying to clear up any possible lingering misinterpretations there. (Prideful, hotheaded, foolish. Doing what he must. Sympathetic to elves. Said that he was sorry.)

And the quiet simplicity of Solas coming to this meeting of spies in person because, pause, “...the Inquisition was involved,” written in such a way that you could read all sorts of things into that pause, whatever the Inquisition and the Inquisitor might mean to him.

The book would have been worth reading for this last story alone, what a note to end on.

#dragon age #tevinter nights #inquisition #da4 speculation #this is a deeply inquisition- and post-inquisition focused book #lots of neat continuing plot stuff and cameos from DAI or comics characters #no updates on your favorite DAO/DA2 companions

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curious-menace · 3 years

Text

Arkham!Riddler SFW Alphabet

When I started this one I figured it would be easier since I can riddle as bi and ace and this is all non-sexual but my god was it difficult. It's hard to separate what i'd like from a partner like riddler from what this version of riddler would actually be like. I've done my best but if you have anything you'd like to add, feel free to hmu!

LONG POST UNDER THE CUT

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Edward can be affectionate in quite a superficial way. He’s not above using someone's affections for him to get what he wants out of them and he certainly isn't above feigning affection for the same reason. Although unless you were head over heels for him, his faux sincerity would be pretty obvious.

However with a partner he actually likes i can imagine he’d be very affectionate with his actions more than his words. Riddler loves to talk but expressing actual love can be difficult for him, whether it’s romantic or platonic, saying how he feels about you is one of the few things that doesn't come easy. I can see him spending a lot of money on you as a gesture of affection; fancy food , clothes, first editions of your favorite books or vintage versions of whatever you collect. He’d quite happily pay for your education/college and any and all books you might want.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being a “best friend” would probably be at your insistence and not his. He’s likely left any childhood friends behind (assuming he had any to begin with) and I think as an adult, Edward would have trouble making friends. Like most things, Edward treats friendship as just another tool in the bag, he can count the people he actually gives a shit about on 1 hand.

If you were lucky (or unlucky depending on your view) to be considered one of those friends, expect lots of phone calls about bailing him out, riddles turning up in weird places ( like in the pocket of a coat you haven't worn in a while) and him helping you out with your cerebral challenges( like your quarterly tax return, no eddie i can't just NOT do it will you put down the rubix cube and help me)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’ll never admit it, not even under pain of death, but Edward likes to be held. Now there's a few caveats to this; his rules and on his terms etc. He likes to lie between your legs with his head on your chest, either facing you for a hug while he naps or away from you, using you like a pillow while he reads or tinkers with something. He likes having his hair played with and his back gently stroked until he falls asleep.

He keeps up the facade of being totally touch adversed for good reason, the other rouges just do not respect personal space, even ones like killer croc and clayface. For the sake of his suits, he keeps this up even in private. But if you were someone special to him, you might convince him to toss his arm around your shoulder or waist.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

When he’s doing well mentally, he’s pretty good at taking care of himself. Or at least, looking like he takes good care of himself. He can cook and clean a little but he has the cash to pay other people to do the more menial or time consuming stuff for him. Not that he’s above it, he just prefers to spend his time on other things and is happy to compensate people to save him from doing it. These days he's more focused on other things to be bothered with domestic chores, his place is very messy.

Settling down is an alien concept to him, not one he’s eager to explore. Expect him to turn his nose up at the prospect of marriage but a platonic long term partner, someone for company, someone to act as a sounding board for ideas or even just someone to (gently but firmly) kick his ass into looking after himself would be pretty ideal.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d probably be thinking long and hard about it beforehand. Like weeks if not months in advance. He’d want to give you the perfect breakup and, depending on what happened, try his best to part as friends. He doesn't deal well with sudden changes to his routine, particularly with no plans ahead. On the other hand he might just pussy out and ghost you. He’s fickle like that.

If it was your doing, well. Edward takes these sorts of things as a challenge. He might even assume you were joking the first time around. After he got the message, I sense he’d probably be quite clingy and upset. It’s taken a lot for him to get so far with you and he wouldn't let it go without a fight. He might try to change or at the very least , be better at hiding whatever it was that you want to break it off.

Failing that expect a lot of texts from blocked numbers almost but not quite begging or apologizing and asking for more chances.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said above, marriage isn't for him. I doubt he'd be compatible with a religious person given his childhood and outspoken atheism. He MIGHT if pressed, give you a question mark themed ring or token as a reminder that you were his. No papers, no ceremony, just something small. If you proposed expect him to be flustered and , if you can believe it, at a loss for words. He might go radio silent on you for a few days before giving you an answer but i honestly couldn't tell you what it might be. He does enjoy the thought of someone referring to him as “my husband” thought, so maybe persistent begging i'll get you somewhere.

Some sort of Commitment appeals to him from a practical point; having someone to rely on, to fall back on and to care and be cared for by. It's not a normal relationship by any stretch of the imagination but it’ll be special all the same.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Edward isn't an imposing man. He might be tall but he’s all sinus and no mass. He has gentle hands but can be careless when he’s in a mood ( with objects, never with you). He's broken a lot of plates, computer monitors and mechanical pencils over the years. He lacks a lot of social grace to treat things with the necessary amount of sensitivity sometimes, but he has the sense to at least TRY and be emotionally gentle. Situations of abuse or self worth issues, things he has personal experience dealing with are things he can easily empathise with .

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Short story, yes but only coming from a trusted partner. Long story is that he has a hard time not flinching when someone hugs him by surprise. You should ask before you do it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Edward is the kind of person to fall head over heels very quickly. He might say I love you before it's socially appropriate, it honestly might make you a little uncomfortable. But once that initial infatuation dies he's a lot more guarded with his feelings. He’d say i love you in a superficial way quickly but a genuine i love you with real emotion would take a lot of time and thought from him before he actually committed to it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

If you look up jealousy in the dictionary, you'd see Edward's picture. Obviously he is a deeply insecure man, he’s terrified you’ll start to think of him the way he thinks of himself and seek out someone better. You need to nip any signs of jealousy in your relationship in the bud early on. Otherwise Edward will become controlling, manipulative and possessive to the point of alienating you from other people, simply for the sake of having you to himself. You need to set healthy boundaries while also doing your best to accommodate his need to be validated and his need for reassurance that you do in fact want to be with him. He gets snappy when he’s jealous, with you and other people. He has temper tantrums like a child if you don't agree with him. Like for example if he thinks someone was flirting with you and you tell him they were just being friendly.

All that said, I genuinely don't think he does it for the sake of being a controlling partner. He is just so very afraid that someone he actually gives a shit about will leave him like everyone else in his life.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I should point out that he doesn't kiss often. But when he does,He’s all over the damn place. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm. He is a very sloppy kisser when he gets into it but generally his kisses are very short and chaste. Like i said, he doesn't really know what he's doing so he's all over the place in terms of location. I think smooches on the cheek because it's easy access, for him and you. He likes body worship, so if you're kissing him, anywhere will do as long as you're praising that part while you do it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Edward does not like children but he’s good pretending for the sake of his image. Childrens naturally inquisitive nature coupled with his bright and colourful appearance makes for some entertaining moments but in the long run I can see him worrying too much: about screwing the kid up, about being perceived like his father, about the child not meeting his expectations etc.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's more of a night owl tbh. If you're living with him he might wander into the kitchen while you're getting breakfast , wondering why you're up so late. You'd have to tell him he’s accidentally pulled another all nighter. He might have coffee with you and talk about what he was working on, maybe ask if he could have some breakfast with you. But by the time it's cooked he’ll have passed out on the sofa.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Edward prefers to work and operate at night so expect him to be in a flurry of activity, building things, calling people and working at his computer. He likes to have company, even if you aren't doing much talking. It would be nice for him to just spend time with you while you both work on your respective projects. Sometimes he gets his shit together and lives during the day like most people ( read as, when he’s just been to prison and has an actual schedule for once) he would like to unwind with you by watching game shows or playing video games.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Edward has a bad habit of gloating about his accomplishments but in a way that is so obviously false it unintentionally tells more about him than he really wanted to. Like in Arkham knight, he gloats about “not having any friends at all” in reference to his riddler bots when Catwoman teases him. He meant that as a snipe at catwoman but the fact he’s so open about his lack of friends, to most people anway, is incredibly sad.

He’s a well known villain, if you didn't know most of his backstory before dating him it would be hard to miss once you were together. He’s unlikely to tell you it himself, having to repeat it time and time again in therapy has him perpetually bored of the subject .

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets upset quite easily, he has very limited patience . He’s used to other people's cuts and jibes so he mostly lets that roll off his back with only a little annoyance. But for stupid people, and people outright insulting him, dismissing him or for acting like batman he is liable to start seeing red very quickly . In your relationship I would say he is easily irritated by a lot of things, generally a bit grumpy if things don't go his way but rarely as angry as we see him in the climax of Arkham knight. He doesn't yell or shout at you but he will seethe and let his anger fester for days at a time. He can be very mean when he’s angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would think for someone with a photographic memory, he would be better at remembering things about you. It's not to say he DOESN'T remember, only that he requires prompting to do so. Yes, he will remember everything about you but he puts it in the back of his head so he can focus on other things. Don't be surprised if he lets important dates slip by or does things at the last minute because something reminded him of it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's probably something innocuous that you wouldn't think of, or even realise he was there for. Maybe he remembers meeting you in a coffee shop months or years before you met and started dating. He remembers because you held the door for him or gave him a genuine smile. You were something colourful in his gray day, something hard to forget. I doubt he tried to build a relationship out of that one moment but when he met you again he would remember that and decide that it was fate or something.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Edward is protective in a strange way. He’s most powerful in situations where he controls everything , which isn't usually possible in real life as he's not a particularly strong man. He has more power in the digital world so that's where he feels most comfortable looking out for you. He might watch you on security cameras to make sure you get home safe, send you texts to check in or hide your profile from the police. You can be online together and in the public eye ( for him to brag about you to his online followers of course). To tie back in with his jealousy, he would be pretty protective initially but if you told him to back off, he’d be careful to do it more secretly.

Edward needs to be protected in a lot of ways, mostly from himself. He’s not good at looking after himself, either physically, mentally or socially. His big mouth gets him into a lot of bother so he might need you to act as a social filter. He’s had several large breakdowns in the last few years and with arkham closed for good, he has no support besides you. He needs to be grounded and kept in the present lest he get wrapped up in his thoughts.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Honestly? He doesn't really try. He's very lucky in that he can pull something out of his ass last minute and it would still have a similar effect to if he’d spent the whole month planning. Someday it's going to blow up in his face big time but he doesn't seem to care.

Same goes for everyday tasks. He's usually so focused on his own stuff that he doesn't realise other things need done. He's a master of doing things at the last second and still making it look like he put in effort.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a bad habit of underestimating people, even you. He might be inclined to patronise you when you try to do things for him but just showing him that you are a capable human being is usually enough to shut him up. He's very egocentric, narcissistic and conceited, but given everything he's been through, it's not really his fault he's like this. What is his doing is his refusal to work on his faults or try to grow as a person. Perhaps with the right encouragement you could help him but don't hold your breath.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Normally yes, Edward is narcissistic and very concerned with his looks but recently, with his mental health declining, he's forgotten to take care of himself. I imagine when/if he snaps out of this funk he’ll be mortified by how he’s let himself go. He’s more concerned with how he looks socially, how he might be perceived and his reputation than what he physically looks like.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Edward is and always has been convinced he was meant to be alone. He’s somewhat made his peace with that . there would always be a hole in his heart that he really thought nothing could ever fill. But meeting you? Well that changes things. Edward will never be a complete, well rounded person but having someone to kiss his wounds and pour their love into the cracks in his being is infinitely better than being alone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I mentioned in some of my mini headcanons for him that he used to do gymnastics as a kid. It wasn't so much that he wanted to or even enjoyed it all that much, in his highschool you just had to pick a sport and it was one of the only things that wasnt team related and had the lowest chance of being hit in the head with a ball, bat or racket. He was pretty good at it, even if he didnt like it that much , and probably could have taken home some bronze or silver awards in his state if his parents had encouraged him. Nowadays he can barely do a pullup but he's still got most of the flexibility, even if repeated breaks at the hands of batman have left him a little sore while he does it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Edward doesn't like people appearing to be smarter than him. but his ego usually protects him from acknowledging that fact. he doesn't like bullies, despite being one himself . but his most hated trait in people is alcohol use/ dependency. If he knew you were an alcoholic he likely never would have started dating you but even the odd drink will make him turn his nose up. of course, hes a hypocrite , when hes feeling really sorry for himself he will definitely drink his sorrows away in whatever hole in the ground gotham rogues frequent. the self loathing is as strong as his hangover the next morning. he knows hes like his father, in more ways than one and it makes him sick. any mention of alcohol is likely to bring up these feelings

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Edward is a chronic insomniac but there is one thing that is guaranteed to send him right to the land of nod and that is having his hair played with and his back stroked. I don't know if it was one of the few kind touches he ever received as a child or if his parents did it when he was a baby but it's one of the few things that makes him feel truly safe and cared for. Riddler has spent the majority of his life alone, so finding a partner he trusts enough to allow them not only into his space but also his bed would be a difficult thing. If that's you, however, expect him to be badgering you every night to help him get to sleep.

that took a lot longer than i thought it would! arkham riddler is obviously my favorite so i was trying to write a lot for him but i hope i havent been rambling

if you want to talk more about any of the riddlers, hmu!

#riddler headcanons #The Riddler #Riddler #arkham riddler #sfw alphabet #edward nygma #edward nigma #batman arkham knight #arkham knight riddler #arkham knight #headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff #my art

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owl-with-a-pen · 3 years

Note

Hi! I just read the fanfic about Brainy and Nia going to the future and meeting their daughter, I know you posted it a long time ago, I'm just new to tumblr, so if you can I want you to do a fic about the future, where Brainy's daughter and Nia is 5 years old. And it would be cool to see the antics that her daughter does.XD

- Sorry this took so long to fulfil, but yes! I’m sure she’d get into all sorts and this story probably only scrapes the surface! Thank you for the prompt x

Nia had always preferred the night over the day; maybe it was just her Naltorian side talking, but she’d always felt there was a certain peacefulness about the night-time that just couldn’t be replicated in daylight.

That definitely hadn’t changed since Nova had come into the picture.

The daytime had always been busy for a number of reasons. Balancing work and family life, balancing family and hero life - balancing work, family and hero life. But, now that Nova had reached an age where she was starting to explore her natural curiosities, Nia and Brainy hadn’t had the luxury of focusing on anything else. At five years old, they couldn’t let their daughter out of their sight for one second of the day.

The second the sun went down, though?

Nova’s sleeping pattern had always been pretty steady, and once she was out - she was out. She’d definitely gotten that from Nia’s side of the family. After all, Brainy didn’t really need all that much sleep, although he had admitted to her on more than one occasion that he enjoyed resting at her side, retreating to his inner network at hours Nia would otherwise be sleeping, working on small tasks and calculations reminiscent of an actual dream-state. In that way, he could still be close with her during the night, and Nia valued that time together immensely.

Of course, the fact Brainy didn’t actually need those extra hours had made him the best dad ever when it came to late-night wake-up calls courtesy of one baby Nova.

She still wasn’t old enough for them to know for certain the extent of her abilities; Brainy had predicted they wouldn’t fully develop fully until her teen years. Honestly, though? Nia didn’t care what powers Nova had; she was perfect no matter what.

Nia watched from the doorway that evening as Nova cuddled against Brainy on the bed. Her blonde hair was getting so long now, falling in relaxed waves down to her elbows, and the light green tone of her skin was almost washed out entirely by the soft purple of her nightlight on the bedside table. She was curled into Brainy’s chest, chewing idly on her thumbnail, her dark eyes scanning along inquisitively to the passages he was reading aloud to her. Nia smiled privately to herself; Brainy really got into character when reading Nova to sleep, making a big show with grand gesticulations and silly voices, even when the book of choice for tonight was an account on quantum mechanics from Carlo Rovelli’s collection.

Nova had a unique taste in literature, that was for sure and, while she was definitely getting a taste for mathematics and physics, she also still enjoyed simpler story telling. Nia and Brainy had decided to switch up who read to her each night. Sometimes, they’d choose something on Brainy’s bookshelf, and other times they would go for stories catered for a younger – human - mind, like The Far Away Tree, or even folk stories like Little Red Riding Hood or Goldilocks.

Nova really liked Goldilocks; Nia must have read it to her at least twelve times this month alone.

As Nova let out a big yawn, relaxing further into her dad’s side, Nia caught Brainy’s eye, jerking her chin towards the door.

He nodded his understanding, continuing his narration as Nia ducked out of the room, heading towards the living room where Alex was waiting for her, already working open a bottle of red.

“How is she?” Alex asked, sizing up her wine glass as she began to fill it up generously.

“She should be asleep soon,” Nia said. “But, uh, Brainy sometimes runs Q and A sessions with her if she stays awake through a whole chapter.”

Alex snorted. “Only for Nova would I find that concept adorable.”

Nia collapsed onto the sofa, snatching her wine glass immediately. She reached out expectantly to Alex, grinning when she rolled her eyes, ditching her own wine glass to fill up Nia’s.

“Why, thank you,” Nia said, tucking her legs up beneath her.

Alex tipped her own glass with a wry smile. “It’s my pleasure, really.”

Nia took a long sip, savouring the rich taste. They couldn’t exactly go off the walls with a toddler sleeping next door, but right now, anything that could offer her a brief period of relaxation, Nia was more than eager to accept. She swirled her glass thoughtfully. “You know,” she murmured, “Brainy’ll probably need something a little stronger to take the edge off.”

“Oh, way ahead of you,” Alex said, shifting to the edge of her respective sofa to grab a bottle she had stowed away inside her backpack. She placed it on the coffee table with a flourish, giving Nia the opportunity to try and decipher the alien script scrawled across the label. “Kara recommended this,” Alex said, raising a finger. “Please do not ask me what it’s called, because I will not be able to pronounce it.”

Nia snorted, taking another sip of her own regular alcohol. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“He better, this stuff wasn’t cheap.” Alex smirked, leaning back into the sofa. “How have you guys been, anyway? I feel like this is the first time we’ve seen each other in months.”

Nia opened her mouth, only to frown. Had it really been that long? All the days had been blurring together recently, and yet each one seemed to be separated by something inexplicably unique in its own right – courtesy of one overly curious toddler.

Nia wasn’t even sure she could remember the last time she’d visited the Tower, and going out for patrol or even something as simple as date night was so far off the table right now, it might as well have been in another galaxy. There wasn’t a sitter in the city willing to take on a genius, alien five-year-old with a penchant for mischief.

To Alex, Nia only shrugged. “Nova’s just been needing a lot of our attention lately. Well, all of it, actually. Or else she’ll burn the apartment down.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Wait, like seriously burn the apartment down?” When Nia pursed her lips, Alex’s mouth fell open. “Is that normal?”

Nia rolled her eyes, leaning back into the cushions. “According to Brainy, yeah. Coluans express themselves through their intellect, and Nova’s been flexing that muscle a lot lately. Brainy thinks it’s a good sign, that she’ll probably rise to the twelfth-level, but we don’t exactly have much for a frame of reference, y’know?”

“Well, you have Brainy,” Alex considered. “How was he raised?”

Nia shifted uncomfortably, averting her gaze. She took a long sip of her wine to fill the silence. “Uh,” she said softly. “That’s sort of a… sore topic, actually.” She bit her lip, running her thumb along her glass’s neck. “He had robot caregivers for the most part.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

By the subdued look on Alex’s face, Nia knew she didn’t want to butt in with any more questions on the subject of Brainy’s upbringing. Brainy had certainly shared a portion of his childhood with his friends, at least enough for them to know that his parents were not a topic up for discussion if he could help it.

Even with Brainy occupied with Nova in the other room, Alex didn’t appear comfortable to continue the direction of their conversation.

Nia chuckled softly, trying to clear the air. “Anyway,” she said quickly, steering them back on topic, “there isn’t an earth-equivalent to a robot nanny here; well… except for…” She stopped herself suddenly, resisting the urge to grin.

Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Except for what?”

Nia shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips to keep from laughing outright. The wine was definitely starting to do its job - not thirty minutes ago, thinking about this would have only stressed her out. She reached for the wine bottle, eager to keep this high going for as long as humanly possible, topping up her glass. As soon as it was full, Nia took another long swig, breathing deeply as the wine warmed her chest. “Kelex,” she said on her next exhale, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

Alex laughed incredulously. “Wait, what? Kel- Kelex? From the Fortress?” She shuffled to the edge of her seat, almost conspiratorially. “Doesn’t Brainy hate that thing?”

Nia shrugged half-heartedly.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Why does he hate that thing?”

That question seemed to ground her, at least. Nia winced. She was pretty sure they were skirting back along unsavoury territory. “He was never totally clear with me,” she admitted, staring down into her glass, “but I’m pretty sure Kelex reminds him of his own caregivers. They – uh – didn’t exactly get along.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it doesn’t even matter. Brainy was happy to entertain the idea, but the second Kara brought Kelex over, Nova was obsessed with the thing. She rewired it in like… twenty minutes.”

Alex stared. “She’s five, right?”

“She’s also half Coluan,” Nia reminded her, toasting her glass in Alex’s direction. “Dismantling machinery is better than any toy I could buy her.” She closed her eyes at that, pulling a face. “I left her in the bathroom for ten minutes today to shower and by the time I got out, she’d turned my hairdryer into a blowtorch.”

Alex winced into her wine glass. “Oof.”

“She’s just curious,” Nia said quickly, rubbing idly at her forehead. Was she really getting a wine headache already? God, she was really out of practice. “She’s exploring her intellect,” Nia said eventually. “It’s healthy for her and I wanna encourage that, I do—” She sighed heavily. “It’s just…”

“Exhausting?”

Nia smiled bleakly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Then, take a break,” Alex insisted.

Nia stared at her levelly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey,” Alex said with a smirk, pushing the wine bottle over to Nia’s side of the table. “Start with this. Finish the whole thing. Trust me, I have more.”

When Nia laughed, Alex glanced up at her, eyes flashing with a smile. “And, if you guys need a real break, you know that Kelly and I would be happy to help out.”

“You sure about that?” Nia asked warily. “Remember what I just said about the blowtorch?”

“You think a bit of fire’s going to scare me off?” Alex challenged. She leant back, gesturing to herself with relaxed emphasis. “Don’t forget, I shared a bathroom with an incredibly overpowered alien for years. Hell, I used to work for a super-secret government organisation that kept alien prisoners.” She placed her glass back onto the coffee table, folding her arms with a confident nod. “I’m pretty sure Kelly and I can handle a five-year-old super genius.” She winked. “And, if we can’t, we can always rely on Auntie Kara.”

Nia nearly snorted into her glass. She remembered a few choice stories from Auntie Kara revolving her valiant attempt at babysitting for Cat Grant’s son when she’d still been a PA. Something about him ending up on a train that had had a bomb strapped to it? Considering Nova already knew her Auntie Kara was Supergirl, the novelty of being saved from a near death experience would probably still hinge on traumatic, rather than invigorating.

Although, Nia had to admit, the idea of a break – however small – sounded pretty great right about now. She loved Nova with all of her heart, but having even just a few hours with Brainy to herself where she was actually conscious enough to enjoy them would have been amazing.

Still, she couldn’t help but picture Alex and Kelly struggling to figure out how to appease Nova’s more unique interests.

She smirked to herself, pressing her lips against the rim of her glass. “It’s your funeral,” she murmured.

Alex’s cheeks were already a little rosy from the wine and Nia knew she probably wasn’t faring much better. Still, before Alex could promise away any more of her free time, Nova’s door opened and, a moment later, out crept one very dishevelled looking Coluan.

Nia beamed from ear-to-ear. She stood, pausing when the world pitched a little around her. Wine drunk. There was no denying it, she was definitely wine drunk.

After carefully placing her glass on the coffee table, Nia made her way over to the bedroom door. She ran her hand down Brainy’s arm, squeezing gently. “Is she asleep?” she whispered.

Brainy’s expression was warm. He smiled softly, bowing his head. “I believe her excitement today tired her out more than she anticipated.”

Nia chuckled. That was the least surprising statement she’d heard all day. She turned towards the door, peeking inside. Nova’s nightlight was still on, enough to illuminate the profile of her round face snuggled against her pillow where she’d half cocooned herself in blankets only seconds after Brainy had no doubt tucked her in.

Her little mouth hung open slightly, silent breaths escaping her lips. Nia could spy the ears of her own childhood teddy bear poking out from beneath the blankets, hugged tightly to Nova’s chest.

Nia squeezed Brainy’s arm once more before sneaking into the room, summoning a swell of dream energy in her fist to keep from tripping over any mislaid toys or, more likely now she thought about it, machine parts.

Nia smiled; Brainy had promised to fix Kelex for Kara tomorrow. Despite his grievances towards the robot, he still felt guilty over the extent to which Nova had indulged her curiosities. They’d already sat her down to explain to her why what she had done wasn’t appropriate behaviour, and Nova had seemed to understand. Enough that she’d pouted when they’d told her she wouldn’t be able to go with Brainy to the Fortress to help fix Kelex in the morning. The last thing Nia wanted was for Nova to get her hands on the kinds of weapons Kara and Clark had hidden there. Nia had nearly blasted a hole through the wall on accident in controlled conditions when Brainy had been training her, she could only imagine what kind of destruction Nova could cause if she was set loose in there.

It was strange to think all of that had only been a few hours ago. Now, Nova slept peacefully, odd ends of blonde hair strewn across her face.

Nia reached out, tucking those strands behind Nova’s ears. She perched herself on the edge of the bed, pressing a kiss against her daughter’s forehead. Nova scrunched her nose slightly before relaxing again, and Nia had to bite her lip hard to keep from making any sound.

She was perfect. Even with the chaos today had brought, Nia wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Sleep tight, Firestarter,” she murmured fondly.

When Nia returned to the doorway, she found Brainy waiting for her. She grinned, linking her hand with his. “Come with me,” she said, tugging him along towards the living room. “We have alien wine.” She raised her voice enough for Alex to hear. “And guess who just offered to babysit?”

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #brainia #nia nal #brainiac 5 #alex danvers #oc: nova #my prompts #anon #i'm basically breaking through my writer's block with force of will #i really liked the idea of alex just being like i know exactly what brainy and nia need: alcohol #honestly what a legend

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years

Text

Just like any other night

Kanene’s Notes: Sugar! /0/

Spice! \0\

And everything nice! \0/

To create the perfect fluff

But Kanene accidentally (unless...)

Added an extra ingredients to the concoction--

Angst!!

*Explosion*

*Evil crackling*

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! Good Omens belongs to the incredible Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett; Aaaand the characters of this fic (and AU) themselves belongs to @10yrsyart

* Read here to know the AU Ducks and Dolphins and click here to see everything cannon about the D+D. It’s f a n t a s t i c! Reaaad! ^w^)s2

* I didn’t really asked a permission by myself, but this post kind of give permission to write about the AU? (I really hope so xDDD), so, if you also want to write about them please don’t be ashamed ! (And give credits, pleaaaase! :D)

* Something around 1.200 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* This is not cannon. This idea just came because everytime I thought in a fluff, plots of Az cheering up Crow were all that appeared, soooo I tried to challenge me a little and make the opposite. I hope I managed to demonstrate even a little bit of their personality (and don’t have misunderstanding them) well!

* Fanfic em português brasileiro daqui á pouco Thankys for reading, my lollipops! I hope you enjoy this day! Hug a demon, hug an angel and don’t forget to drink water!! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Aziraphale is calm, stoic, precise, bold, moralistic, firm, direct and ruthless if necessary. He is also sincere, generous, comprehensive, limpid and kind. He is as a pillar, a base. Something concrete, someone who you can lean on for support, trust, belief.

He knows very well how separate his work from his personal life. His feelings from his mind. He is rational, leaded primary by his brain and not-

And n-not-

(Come on. Control your breath. Control yourself. One… two…three…)

In any way, under absolutely no circumstances by his feeli-

(Focus. Focus on something, something, some- a book! Take one of the books. Right. Very well. Focus!)

…

Damn.

His breath came out a little weaker, shaking. He tightened his grip in the fabric of his pants, closing his blue eyes and trying to focus on his own heartbeat, which seemed to reverberate in his dry throat, attempting to correct his breathing with its.

Inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled. Rested his head against the couch, sinking a little deeper into it. Some part of himself was thankful that it was already night, which meant the bookstore were closed and there was no danger of an incident.

There was no danger.

He settled back a little more on the furniture, held the book again, with a little firmer grip than needed as he readjusted it to a more comfortable position where there would be no danger in his thick, warm tears researching its pages, eventually falling and blurring the words of its lovely sentences.

At least it was night, a night just like any other night bathered in a weather of every other nights where there would be no incidents.

“Angel…?”

… Damn.

Crow approached closer to the upright, perfect posed form, seeking his eyes and staring deeply into them, their gold glittering in the night pitch. Az didn’t tried to hide these vulnerable moments, at least not anymore, but neither did he showed them when they became present. His voice came out a little faltering, yet in the calm and characteristic tune he always had.

“Crow, dear, I thought you were already sleeping.”

“I just woke up for a cup of tea.”

They both knew this was a lie, still none of them really mentioned such information when the one with dark hair as the ebony of the night, a night just as any other one, removed the book of his carefully manicured hands and held them for a moment, intertwining their fingers as he got closer enough to finally entwining him in a hug. He loosened the hold for a brief second, only to position the angel’s head on his shoulder, and then tightly hug him again. It was as he was trying to show that nothing, on Earth, Hell or Heaven, would be able to hurt the angel without going over him, first.

It might seemed as any other previous hug, if it wasn’t for the fabric of his pajamas getting gradually wetter and the slight shivers and sniffles that slipped from the mouth of the one with blonde, almost white, hair. His cry was silently, and for a light of moment, Crow remembered his own cry, which could be described as any other, just a bit louder and with rumpled clothes.

He shook lightly his head, focusing in the present, in the possibilities, the sentences and words that would be said after the storm. His mind felt lethargic and yet running in full speed almost at the same time. Crow combed Az’s hair and gave small, but big in meaning, pecks in his neck without even noticing.

The time itself lost meaning in this piece of time.

A hand tapped softly his back and his head slightly lifted. It was the signal to break the touch, and it was promptly obeyed.

“Do you want to talk about this?” His voice was a special whisper, packed, designated and delivered to just only one being in the entire universe.

“There is nothing to be said.” Even with everything, his voice still lacked major flaws or slips. It was made of a calm, sad nature. “It is just…” And the owner of hundreds of books, reader for thousands years and maestro of words ended up losing himself in them.

‘It’s just…’ Crow wondered if even the humans, at some point of their existence, could understand all the feelings and sensations between the lines that this phrase could possess.

Probably.

Everyone does, in some way or another, doesn’t it?

The black-haired never paid much attention to time, especially after such thing already fulfilled its basic function of lead him as far as possible from that particular century. However, this day, he almost could see the sand of hourglass pouring grain-by-grain as he let the angel running his fingers through his hair, pressing his back on the blonde’s sweater and stroking the back of the other’s hand with his thumb. His warmth and presence were the necessary reminders that Az needed to focus on the here, in the Bookstore rocked by this ordinary night, and now, with the best company he could ever wish to be.

A piece more of time was spent. Maybe two, three, and perhaps a little more.

…

“We should go out.”

“What are you rambling about, Crow love? We always go out.”

“No. I mean… for something different! Not just a lunch.”

“A day to just wander, you mean?”

“Maybe.” Shrugged, pondering, his tongue absently wriggling in the ar. Az tightened a bit more the touch, feeling lighter as allowed his mind travel and dance between some possibilities for the future meaning of this conversation. “We should make a picnic!”

“A picnic?’

“Yes! In any place, nearby or far away! We could take the food or milacre it there. I can give you a ride.”

His head turned, his heart floating and expanding when he saw that the trail of tears had faded from his husband’s face, and now the red was also beginning to gradually leave his skin.

Az pondered for a few minutes, eyes gleamming.

“I don’t think I’ve ever married at a picnic before.” Smiled, and part of his soul melted with the beauty in the other’s happy expression, along with the smile that also was painted in the demon’s face, he was absolutely sure.

“Let me tempt you, then.” Crow hissed, carrying on their internal joke, since they, after their last wedding-lunch, decided that from now on there would be no more dates, only weddings.

Az raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful disbelief look. Their foreheads met. The angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a light, which came neither from the stars, cars, poles and nor the living room lamp, little by little filling his being.

“I love you, Aziraphale.” Their eyes met.

“I love you too, my husband.”

Perhaps they had spent some time like this, in silence, enjoying themselves. Perhaps they had slowly moved away right after the talk, holding hands, a warm feeling in their chest. Who really knows? It is a moment only for them, so let it be.

“The preparations should be started, then!” The one with blue limpid eyes, now up, excitedly leaded to the kitchen. “Milacre a massive amount of food certainly would alert your side just as mine, so, I believe the best option we got is cook by our own.”

Crow scowled, which evolved to as annoyed expression as received the lightly incisive and inquisitive look from the other, puffing up his cheeks and deviating the glare as he dispirited followed his steps into the other room.

“Fffffffine.” Gave up of the dream to sleep that night. However, deep inside, he knew worth it just to watch the blonde-haired angel calmly, excited walking his eyes and fingers through the Recipe Books were under his care. Urg. The sacrifices that must be made. “But I’m not using a patterned apron!”

And the cars drove through the streets, the stars hardly glowed in the sky and the worlds kept not an even bit silent during that sunless hours, just as any other night of any other day. Nevertheless, on that store, more specifically a Bookstore, at that moment and for those two, maybe this wasn’t a common night anymore, and would definitely lead to a day not even a little ordinary, either.

A recipe book was open, some bright smiles (maybe trying to help the stars?) too.

“Sure, my dear. I would never…” replied Az, trying to decide which color would most highlight Crow’s duck patterned pajamas.

#Good Omens AU #Ineffable Husbands #Crow #Az #Ducks and Dolphins #fluff and angst #Hurt/Comfort #Fluff #Angst #They're so lovely <3 #Alternative Universe #Picnic #D+D AU #Oneshot #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Art #Reposting because I'm gonna delete this from my other account #<33

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thinkofduty · 4 years

Text

iunctus

this post contains sexual themes. please don’t read if you’re under 18.

Six days.

It only takes six days for Ingvald to find and become accustomed to a new routine with Orella gone.

He bores quickly of it. Less than a full day goes by before he's bored of the raunchy novellas lying discarded around the manse. Nor does the housework afford him much opportunity to better himself. The dishes are dried and put away, the countertops swept clean of crumbs, the plants watered: his good conscience is soothed, but his body still wants for things to do.

By the second afternoon he takes up his rapier and sets a training dummy up in the front yard. Someone - mayhap a Riskbreaker - has decorated it with a goofy face reminiscent of a paissa. He decides immediately that he hates it.

For all its comical appearance, it is a hardy thing and weathers his spells well enough. That, or he hasn't perfected the art as well as he'd originally thought. The focusing crystal hums pleasantly when he inspects it for flaws, but he finds nothing that would cause his spells not to do so much damage. Idly, he thinks of the last time he was face-to-face with a training dummy; for sure, that first was a puny thing, and this one no doubt was built to weather adventurers aplenty...

It still confuses him, and he takes up a new goal. Delicately melt the paint off the dummy, or turn it into splinters.

By third day's end his arms shake with the effort of holding both rapier and crystal aloft, breathing hard with the exertion of casting over and over. The unblinking paissa eyes watch him mockingly; he has done not much more than turn a few splinters to the smallest sticks of charcoal despite his best efforts.

"Having trouble, old man?"

He turns to see Helisent, wrapped up in a travelling cape, a great grin plastered upon her face. She must be leaving for Gyr Abania once more. Her drive to help is admirable, if exhausting to think about - the Saltery has been mostly repaired and its workers brought back to live there, and she has finally set her sights upon other little hamlets in need of a helping hand.

"No," says Ingvald, not bothering to fight the smile that works its way to the fore. As they had worked together the teasing insults had been plentiful and somewhat of a comfort after a while. It is nice to hear them again. "Need someone to hold your hand back home?"

His only answer is a tongue stuck out in a decidedly miqo'te manner. "Orella'd kill you," she says happily, dumping her pack on the ground and bending to adjust the laces of her boots. "If you took off with a younger woman, I mean."

That earns a chuckle, though she doesn't say anything more, too busy making sure the leathers won't rub against her feet as she walks. Not one to interrupt such a process, Ingvald rolls his shoulders and tests the weight of the rapier; it doesn't feel as a block of stone yet, which means he can keep going. With a sigh he lifts the focusing crystal high as well, and it spins lazily in midair, barely glowing brighter as he casts a lackluster veraero at the abused training dummy.

"Wow," says Hel to his right. "Was that meant to be white magic? Come on, great-granddad, you can do better than that."

Ingvald grits his teeth. "Hush," he scowls, and tries again. This time his spell peters out before it even reaches his target; his jaw clenches in irritation, and Helisent bursts into laughter too loud for this time of night.

"Before I go," she says, and plucks the crystal from his hand. With his aether so extended down the weapon like an extension of his arm, he feels unbalanced, and the blade wavers. He lowers it, wary. "I think we better work on this so you don't embarrass me in the future."

"Red magic must be balanced," he protests, but doesn't reach to take it from her. "Don't overaspect it or you'll be paying for the replacement."

Without looking away from the crystal, Hel rolls her eyes and shakes her head, the tiniest motion, more fond than disdainful. "Please," she scoffs. "Overaspected. That'd be doing you a favour, as far as I'm concerned."

Something of his worry must bleed through, for he can feel the pulsing of her aether weaken as she tunes the crystal to her liking, and hands it back soon enough with a wink. Try as he might, Ingvald can feel nothing different about it, though he knows she must have done something - but when he opens his mouth to ask questions, she simply winks at him, slings her pack over her shoulder, and sets off.

Very quickly does Ingvald become irritable. He takes to practising harder, pushing himself further - not just at dawn and dusk but during the day, too, when it's more likely others will see him. Indeed, one elezen does stop to watch with fascination until he growls too loudly at the still-standing dummy one afternoon. She flees, long legs carrying her past the marketboard quick enough that when he looks over he does not see even the colour of her hair.

Between his mood and the locals it's clear enough he needs to rest. He retires indoors, sweat cooling on his lower back, and wonders if he looks hard enough whether or not he would find any books on magickal energy hidden around the Sandsea. He needs some sort of guidance, more than the paltry exercises Tia had taught him during their time in the Sagolii, and it is with no small amount of relief that he sinks into the chair closest to the fire. Maybe Helisent is right - maybe he is getting old. He certainly feels it, and the thought of getting up to hunt down a book that might not even exist is more draining than he wants to admit.

He falls into the story easier than he'd have thought possible, the chair comfortable enough that he is reluctant to even change position, the fire warm enough that his eyes feel heavier than they otherwise might. The tale he's picked up is engrossing enough - a young midlander convincing her Ishgardian beau to forsake his knightly vows for her arms (and if he rereads the passages detailing just how soft and pert the heroine's breasts are, that's between him and the fireplace) - that he pays no mind to the door when it swings open.

"Oh, how domestic," drawls an unfortunately familiar voice.

Gisfrid stands flanked by two women, nose freshly broken, looking just as smug as he ever has done. To his left, a woman he thinks he recognises but remembers not at all. To his right, Orella, looking as displeased as he's sure he feels.

Silence grows thick and heavy around all four of them until he snaps his book shut decisively. Gisfrid's brows rise almost high enough to meet his hairline when he sees the title.

"Bit racy for you," he says, and his words are swallowed up by the blanket of noiselessness. They all trade glances, all expecting an explanation, no one saying a single word to break it.

... Which means it falls to Ingvald to open the discussion. He sighs, keeps his eyes on Orella. She looks like she might develop a headache before the day is over.

"Explain."

She can't fully hide a little grin, at least. "I was waiting for you to kick off," she admits. "Tell me Ashelia isn't in."

She's not, and he says as much. Orella's shoulders relax, the tension visibly draining from her. Not for the first time, Ingvald wishes she could take some time for herself for once.

"Here," says Gisfrid. "That book-"

"Is it any of your business?" Ingvald snaps before he can carry on. He's as surprised as everyone else to find his tone as sharp as any blade, and forces himself to breath deeply, hold it for four, five seconds.

"... Let's go to our room," Orella suggests. It might be the most sensible thing she's ever said.

Their shared room is plain enough that no eyebrows are raised at the impropriety of the two of them sharing a single bed. It's a relief for, Ingvald suspects, both of them - he doesn't want to know how loud Gisfrid would become upon learning about their still-tentative relationship. It seems almost a stroke of luck that she'd forgone the simple copper band she's been wearing since the liberation before setting out.

At length, an explanation makes itself known to him. He sighs at every appropriate point, glares at their guests when he thinks it necessary, and suggests that they meet by the Brimming Heart when the moon's at its highest. Gisfrid shoots him an inquisitive look.

"You don't want us around?"

"Not really," Ingvald says, surprisingly mild for the way he feels. "I want to gather my things in peace before I have to spend weeks by your side again. Get out and we'll meet you later."

Milleuda is the one who shrugs and tells him to suit himself. Gisfrid does not look happy about the arrangement, but follows her anyway, clearly beholden to her rules, and Ingvald sighs deeply as the door clicks shut behind them.

"They're going to steal anything not nailed down, aren't they," he groans, and Orella snorts, amused.

"You don't have to come," she says, and looks weary when she looks at her. The circles under her eyes seem more pronounced than ever; he feels guilty, then, for not suggesting that they rest here tonight and meet them in the morning.

Whatever's going through her head clearly has her wanting to apologise for something or other, too, and he's having none of it. Before she can protest or chew him out or do aught else he crosses the three steps to her, takes her shoulders, and kisses her as firm as he thinks he can get away with: surprised, sh elets him.

"What-" she manages when he parts from her. Ingvald shrugs.

"I won't be able to when we're with them," he says easily, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I presume you want them knowing just as much as I do."

Irritation writes itself plainly across Orella's face as she contemplates that very real possibility. He allows it for one moment, two, before bending to kiss her again. This time she meets him, slides one hand into his shaggy hair. It's nice, until she's had enough, and she tugs him back easily.

"You don't have to," she says, and Ingvald doesn't know if she means this, or the search for Folles. "Ingvald-"

"Orella," he interrupts, "For once, be quiet."

If he knows her she has absolutely no intention of doing so. Rather than suffer through her complaints, he plants his hands beneath the slight curve of her ass and lifts; it's worth the strain in his arms for the little stoke to his pride that he can, and that flares into something more heady when Orella grabs tightly at his jacket. She's not heavy, but he could drop her easily, something they're both aware of.

"You thought I wouldn't leave with you?" he asks against her throat, and kisses the skin there. "You thought I'd let you go off with that shite and have nothing at all to do with it?"

She squirms in his arms, trying to steady herself. "No," she says simply. "Don't want to be dragging you into my dirty work all the time."

As if of their own accord, her legs wrap around his waist for extra balance. Ingvald takes one step, then another, and another, kissing her skin with every step he takes, before his knees bump against the edge of their mattress, and he dumps her unceremoniously. He follows her down, catches sight of the amusement in her eyes before he kisses her again.

"Alright," she murmurs when he pulls back, "What's all this about?"

Instead of answering her, he tugs at the laces holding her shirt closed, baring the skin beneath. As usual she's forgone any sort of brassiere, having always considered them a waste of time. He bends his head to take one dusky nipple between his teeth and worries it; when he pulls back it's ringed with toothmarks and perky.

"You aren't the only one who regrets things," he reminds her, and doesn't miss the way a frown begins to form between her brows. "He and I were the same. I'm making up for it."

"... You and Gisfrid?" Orella asks, lost, and hisses when he bites her other nipple harder.

"I," Ingvald mumbles, hands already working as his own laces. He's hard in his trous. "Would appreciate you not talking about him in bed."

He puncuates the remark with another sharp nip and sits up straight to glower down at her. Her eyes have gone dark, and they narrow when she sees him work himself roughly. "Folles," he clarifies, and feels a muscle in his jaw tense. His cock jumps in his hand, too. "Take these off," he says, hooking two fingers into her waistband when she opens her mouth to say something.

She swallows, wriggles beneath him to wrestle with the fabric.

"I have to make up for being like him for as long as I was," he continues, watching her. Her hands still at her smalls.

"That's-"

"pyr Bloodhound," he reminds her. "That's what they called me - or did you forget? I didn't get that by being nice."

It's taking her too long to undress. He hooks his own fingers into her smalls and tugs them down so sharply something in the fabric snaps loudly. She gives him an annoyed look but lifts her legs for him to pull them down further, and he finds he doesn't want to waste time undressing. With one arm he pulls her legs over one shoulder, holding them together at the knee where her clothes are gathered. When he catches her eye he stops, just for a moment, until she nods, just barely. Good.

"You're better than them," she says softly - more softly than he's used to from her, and rather than argue the point he pushes his cock between her thighs, gritting his teeth at the feel of her. He does it again, and then grips himself, angles himself down as he pushes his hips forward, when when his cockhead slides between her folds and catches upon the hole of her cunt he growls, deep in his throat.

"Am I?" he manages, thinking of the past as he sinks into her in one movement. Orella sucks in a deep breath and screws her face up; for a moment he thinks maybe she needed more than what little he gave her, but when he pulls out his shaft glistens. "Could've been quo. Could've been rem. Could've made sas - would I be better, then?"

Instead of answering she grits her teeth. With every point he makes he fucks into her a little harder, a little sharper. With both legs held tight in place and her shirt undone, she looks like any other woman might've had he but dared ask during his time as pyr.

The thought shocks him: not once during their shared service did he ever indulge, though his authority would have afforded him the opportunity had he but asked to. None would have questioned him or looked down on him; he would not have been the first to take advantage of his position, nor would have been the last. Looking down upon her he knows Orella did not abstain as he had done - nor should she have, for pleasure was few and far between for both of them, and for her more than he.

"I did it for you," he growls, low and quiet as he sinks deeper than before into her, and she cries out, the first true noise she's made so far. "Agreed to fight for them for you. What does that make me? A coward- can't even choose for myself-"

"Ingvald," she gasps, and goes tight around him.

"I'm no better than any of them," he growls again, feeling a bead of sweat work its way down between his shoulderblades. Pulling out feels like a sin, but he cannot stop himself; his every movement is jerky and sharp. "Worse than plenty. Shit-"

He grits his teeth, holds her legs so tightly it must pain her for the way her knees are held together, and seats himself fully within her as he comes, breathing as though he's just run a malm.

Orella's hand cups his cheek. He leans into it blind; he can feel the hot prickle of tears begin to gather in his eyes and he closes them, willing them to stay put.

"I did too," she says quietly. He grunts to let her know he's heard and keeps his eyes closed, feeling the first start the slow path down his cheek. Her thumb wipes it away, and the next. "I swore the same. To serve in their name would be to save you."

He swallows heavily, and another tear slips out. Orella wipes that away, too, and runs the pads of her fingers over the stubble he wants to shave before they set out. All he can think of is how calloused her hands are. In another life she would maybe have enjoyed softer hands, softer clothes, softer words. She'd have hated every second of it.

"If I'd said no-" he chokes out, and finds himself pulled gently down, guided to rest against her bare skin, breasts a pillow for him to hide within. Here he can lift a hand to wipe at his eyes as subtley as he can; she ignores the movement. He loves her for that alone.

"We'd have been made to serve no matter what we'd said," she murmurs, and brushes chapped lips against his temple. She shifts under him, and he swallows: she's still hot and wet around him, and he cannot imagine she has found release yet. That fills him with as much shame as his past failings. "You know that as well as I do, and if you'd said no, I'd have been alone." She kisses the top of his head, and he feels her shift again, this time to hold him tight. "And I don't know about you, but I wouldn't have made twenty years by myself."

No, you wouldn't have, he does not say, because they both know she's right. Instead he turns his face up to meet her for a kiss, softer than any they've shared this evening, and chooses instead to reach between them to where her flesh is wet and swollen, and makes apologies with his fingertips.

Neither Gisfrid nor Milleuda look any different to how they did hours before; they are devoid of anything other than the weapons at their side. Clearly they've spent the day wasting time instead of putting a pack together.

"I presume you have a plan?" Gisfrid drawls as they approach. "Or is this to be a wild bhoot-chase?"

Ingvald and Orella share a long-suffering glance. It is going to be a long, long journey. As one, they shrug.

"Actually," he says, "We do."

#p07 #ingvald

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kalis-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Solomon Academy: Outside the Academies

Those Left Behind

It’s an unfortunate truth that not all practitioners are lucky enough to be picked by scouts of the new inquisition and brought to one of the academies where they can learn the magical arts.

There is great tension between the practitioners of the great cabals and those of the streets. Formally educated practitioner look down on their less fortunate brethren with disdain and anxiety.

Orphans

Orphans are those who awakened to magic with nothing to guide them, neither practitioner mentors, or consorts able to connect them to the greater magical world around them.

The life of an Orphan is a hard one, most come to awaken when at death’s door, or making an unlucky turn that leads them in the wrong place and time, forcibly dragging them into the occult underground.

Orphans typically know very little magic, some don’t even know magic exists, they may only be aware of a singular phenomenon such as ghosts, or goblins being real and remain ignorant of the true powers they can wield.

Orphan Example

Old Nan’s children know the streets of New York like no other, at one time they all wandered them, begging, stealing or fucking to survive after runjing away or being kicked out of their old families.

That was until old Nan found them between life and death. With a a gentle ghostly smile, she promised them shelter, food, but most importantly; family.

With eyes newly open, her children bound themselves with the spirits of those who hadn’t avoided death, becoming practitioners, not that they know the words and customs of the occult underground.

The Children are hard to peg as any practices, most know little of magic save for the deals they strike with the ghosts of other runaways, and minor city spirits.

OId Nan herself is an old and powerful Lemure, a kind orphanage matron in life. In death, she maintains her duties, caring for living and ghostly children equally.

Cults

In an age of scandals and disbelief, many have turned away from conventional religion, often disgusted by the stains of dirty dealings or the rigid and outdated orthodoxies of centuries-old religions unfit for the modern age.

Some find faith in harmless new age beliefs while others fall prey to charlatans and scammers. They are the lucky ones.

A great many things hunger in the dark; for power, souls, and adoration. Sometimes, by chance they find ways around the old seals and bindings keeping them at bay, striking a deal with mortals and elevating them to practitioners.

Kept ignorant and drip fed only necessary intelligence, these newly minted practitioners are set about to recruiting more followers and gather power in their master’s name. Where a cult leader is left half in the dark, few in the cult ever get close to the truth, being nothing but pawns.

Some cults are gentler than others, such as those of Genus Loci, Dryads, and Heroes, may be simply focused on the worship and care of a place, but those are rarer than cults of demons, goblins, and the fae.

Cult Example

For over a decade, the Church of the Greenman has poached members from mundane neopagan covens and environement under the guide of being yet another mundane neopagan religion.

The truth is that under the harmless hippie facade, the Church is a cult dedicated to an old, slightly megalomaniacal dryad, each of the church’s rites dedicated to empowering it, using sex, blood, and faith to allow him to grow ever stronger.

Only the inner circle know the truth, each initiated into a practitioner and bound to a servant entity of the Greenman himself.

Hedge Magic

People have always been fascinated by magic, many have sought supernatural powers for themselves. For most, this search is fruitless, a quest for knowledge that leads them to nothing but charlatans and the deluded.

A few manage to find true power, finding old books holding a spark of truth allowing them to initiate themselves, or find someone who once walked the same path and succeeded to some level.

Hedges are most commonly found haunting places of the occult mainstream; occult bookstore, pagan hangouts, not-so-secret societies, and college clubs.

Unfortunately for Hedges, most of the information available in the occult mainstream is rather terrible and inaccurate. As such, they typically only have a select few spells they can reliably cast.

Hedge Example

The Scroll and Tome Society has been part of the New York University life for nearly fifty years, kept a closely guarded secret and by invitation only. The members keep an eye out for prospect with talent, good grades, and a keen mind.

The society meets every week in a private room of the library. The elders of the order are deeply inbedded in the school’s staff and function. Prospects are put through a series of trials before being initiated by the society.

Country Magic

There is a stereotype that magic is deeply intellectual, a thing for the rich and educated, but that is far from the truth. For a long time, magic has been the tool of the dispossessed.

In China, peasants created their own magic against that of the Imperial Wizards. Across the Americas, slaves mixed the practices of their ancestors with that of their oppressors. In Europe, Women learned to harness the powers of nature, divine and female biology to fuel magic when hermetic arts were denied to them.

This pattern repeated across the world, families passed down their art from parent to children across generations, keeping their craft away from the eyes of society and the so-called greater practitioners who would subjugate them.

Country Magic

For generations, the Washingtons have kept the flame of their ancestors burning, under a facade of good African-American Christians, they secretly feed their ancestors blood to keep them strong and content.

And in exchange, the Ancestors have stood watch over them, granted them wisdom. When one of the daughter of the family was assaulted, the spirits drove the boy who did it to suicide. When the family store came in difficult times, they whispered advices on the way forward.

Theirs is not a magic meant for books and studies, it is lived and believed. Sacrifices are made, food is offered, animals slaughtered on the ancestral shrine, and when great need arise, the Washington sacrifice their bodies for a time, letting the ancestors taste the sweetness of life once again.

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shipmistress9 · 6 years

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FTLOAP: Chapter 25: It Will Not Be Long, Love

Title: For The Love Of A Princess

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Remember how I said this would be the last chapter before the hiatus? Yeah, well... it's not. Once again, it turned into a ridiculous mammoth and i had to split it. But to fully concentrate on NaNoWriMo, I plan to post the second part of this last chapter on Tuesday or Wednesday... we'll see.

This week's title comes from the song 'She Moves Through The Fair' by Loreena McKennitt

. o O o .

The next two days were… awkward, to say the least.

Hiccup was acting strangely, but Astrid couldn’t tell why. All she knew was that something had gone completely wrong and that she had no idea what it was. To her, everything had been perfect. Her questions had been answered; she had no doubts anymore about their feelings being real, and her fears about whether she’d be able to enjoy Hiccup touching her had been thoroughly crushed as well.

If anything, she only wanted more. The way he’d made her feel, so light as if she was floating, as if her mind and body weren’t connected anymore, and as if nothing existed anymore but the sensations he elicited in her – she wanted more of that!

But it didn’t seem like she would get more anytime soon.

. o O o .

The day after Dagur’s accolade didn’t start that bad. Astrid woke to her stomach feeling like it was twisting in knots – for reasons other than her soulmate for once – but she hadn’t expected anything else. And in addition, she was once again looking forward to that day’s events.

This day was devoted to basic battle training and assessment of the new recruits, including a little demonstration that was Daniel’s favourite – shield walls against archers. It always was entertaining to watch how the young men, who usually assumed they’d be lone warriors on the battlefield, would try to charge an archery tower – sword raised, shield in hand, and a battle cry on their lips – only for them all to “die” when a padded arrow hit them.

Usually, Astrid would stand to the side with Eret and Dagur, making comments and bets on who would get the furthest. Watching men fight, for them to prepare for real battles, wasn’t her favourite freetime activity, but since Fishlegs would be busy treating head- and stomach-aches after last night’s feast, she had few other options. The fact that they would spend the day at the archery range instead of the garrison helped too. She still didn’t feel like catching up on her performance with bow and arrow, but she also didn’t want to hide anymore. She had her brothers who would protect her if needed, and she had Hiccup who, just by existing, made her life so much better – and that was all she really needed.

But the main reason for accompanying Daniel today was… well… Hiccup. His behaviour last night had been so odd, and she just needed to see him, his warm smile, had to know that nothing had changed.

When he showed up, however, it was as if everything had changed. He behaved… weird. There really was no other word for it, even though, to everyone else, he had to appear entirely as he was supposed to.

But he didn’t look at her.

Not once.

He greeted Eret and the others with an appropriate mixture of familiarity and formality, that absolutely suited them. When it was her turn to be greeted, though, he changed.

“Good morning, Princess Astrid,” he mumbled, bowing deeply. Astrid couldn’t even so much as catch a glimpse at his eyes as they were firmly cast to the ground at her feet.

“Good morning, Hiccup,” she replied, puzzled, but managed not to show it.

And then he left without giving her so much as a glance, no covert smile, no nod, nothing. It left Astrid confused as she followed him with her eyes. Sure, they’d agreed on being more careful when interacting in public, but this behaviour was still weird.

Practically all day, she had her eyes on him; first as he stood amidst a group of young men, fruitlessly trying to convince them to organise their charge at the tower, and later as he joined Daniel, Dagur, Eret, and a group of castle guards to demonstrate how effective an orderly turtle formation could be. But he didn’t look at her, not once, not even as they were whooping and cheering at their success.

Astrid thought it might be because of the official setting, that he was playing his role as nothing but Eret’s squire. But given how everyone else regularly looked in her direction under some pretence or other, his behaviour seemed weird. And it stayed that way. During lunch, he sat with a group of lads in a far-off corner of the archery ground, declining politely when Daniel invited him over, and even during the less organised archery training in the afternoon, he didn’t even glance once in her direction. Maybe it was because he was so focused on his bow and the target – he wasn’t the worst archer among the lads, but also by far not the best – but somehow Astrid felt more like he was avoiding her on purpose. Especially when, once the training came to an end in the late afternoon, he bid his farewell in an equally sober manner as his greeting, and practically fled her presence.

It confused Astrid. Sure, they had to keep up appearances when in public… but this went way beyond anything they’d done on earlier occasions. She’d at least expected a covert look, a short flash of a smile, just something.

She wanted to talk to him, wanted to sneak away once again and ask him directly, but didn’t get the chance. For some reason, Timothy’s chicken was going crazy and it took ages before they all settled for sleep – or at least the twins did. Astrid’s night was fitful, with her tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable position in her feather bed, her lower body aching and her mind reeling.

And the following day was even worse. When Rachel came to wake her, she was still incredibly tired and feeling generally miserable; the thought of spending a couple of hours in bed with tea and a book felt like that might be the best thing to do. But when Daniel came to pick her up for one of their last days at the stables, she didn’t turn him down. She couldn’t! The previous day had been so weird, and despite her determination to not risk letting Daniel and the others notice anything, she still hoped to somehow get the chance to talk to Hiccup. Or to at least silently communicate through looks, exchange a reassuring smile maybe. Surely, he wouldn't be equally distanced as the day before when they were at the stables… right?

Her assumptions were true... to a degree at least. Hiccup wasn't quite as reserved, joked and laughed. It was almost like it always was. Except that it didn’t feel the same. Maybe he was just playing his role, kept his distance as they’d agreed upon. But it felt like more, like there was something concerning him, something that, again, kept him from even looking at her, much less talk to her. It was jarring, irritating, and so… so confusing!

At some point, the men decided to give their horses some exercise in the paddock outside. There had been no time to go for a ride during the previous days, after all, and after these first few days of training, none of them felt like riding out now. Astrid, however, decided to stay inside; the worst part of her moon blood might be over, but as always, it left her dizzy and tired. And in addition… in addition, she hoped for either Hiccup staying behind to keep her company, or to at least get a break without having to act as if everything was okay.

But neither of those hopes came true.

“I’ll stay with her,” Eret offered when Daniel threw her a concerned look, Trample tugging at his rope to finally get outside. “Hiccup, can you take Crusher as well? He and Markor should get along well enough.”

“Of course, Milord,” Hiccup replied, giving his usual exaggerated bow.

Astrid watched as they left the stable, slumping slightly back against the straw bale in her back.

“You okay?” came Eret’s inquisitive voice from the side.

She plastered a smile on her face, but for once not one that was meant to fool anyone – least of all her oldest friend. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just the usual,” she explained, wrapping one arm around her midst in a telling gesture, and shrugged. It wasn’t even a lie, she told herself. It probably was nothing; she was just overreacting – again. Surely, once she got the chance to talk to Hiccup again, everything would be fine. Tonight, she thought to herself. She would find a way to talk to him tonight, no matter what.

Understanding dawned in Eret’s eyes. “Oh, I see. Want me to rub your back?” he asked.

With a smile, she nodded. As so often, the cramps in her stomach had shifted into her back by now, and this surely wasn’t the first time Eret gave her a light massage to ease them. He settled behind her, the movement of his broad hands and their warmth soon easing her discomfort, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the moment and forcing herself not to think. Absentmindedly, she reached for her chest, for the reassurance.

‘We are good, always.’

She would hold on to that.

“Interesting charm you have there,” Eret suddenly commented. When she turned to give him a questioning look, he nodded at her hand. Confused, she followed his gaze and noticed that she was absently fiddling with her key, the delicate chain wrapped around her fingers. Right… Today’s dress had more of a neckline than usual, pulling out the key had been no effort at all.

For a short instant, she worried about what to tell him, but then decided that, for once, the simple truth would be a good choice. “It’s the key to that small coffer Uncle Oswald gave me once,” she explained light-heartedly.

“I remember it,” Eret said cheerfully. “So why do you have the key with you?”

“Well, it contains all my secrets, so I prefer to carry the key with me at all times.” She winked, making Eret snort good-humouredly.

“Those all fit into that little box?” he asked a little disbelievingly, with a waggle of his eyebrows to show that he wasn’t serious. “I’m disappointed. I could have sworn you had enough secrets to fill at least half of Lake Vola.”

They both chuckled, and once more Astrid was grateful for having such a good friend. A friend who made her feel better for the simple purpose of her feeling better. A friend who accepted that she had her secrets and didn’t pry for them. A friend who, surely, wouldn’t betray her trust if she told him.

But no, she couldn’t do that. Not just because telling anyone would only put Hiccup in unnecessary danger, but also because telling Eret would put him into a compromising situation. She didn’t want to force him to lie too.

“Feeling better?” Daniel asked a while later as he and the others returned to find her enjoying Eret’s massage a bit more.

“Yes, a little,” Astrid replied, her eyes fluttering open. As if drawn by an invisible force, they landed directly on Hiccup, but she immediately looked away and at Daniel instead. It was enough, though; enough to see him finally look at her, enough to see the look of guilt and concern, covered by a soft smile – enough to confuse her even more.

“And we’re done just in time, I’d say,” Dagur chirped cheerfully. “We should go back, freshen up a little. We’re having a date tonight, after all.”

“A date?” Hiccup asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Right,” Eret grinned. “You’re coming too, Hiccup. No discussion, that’s an order.”

“Ahm… okay?” Hiccup made, clearly puzzled. He looked around from one to the other until Daniel took pity on him.

“We received an invitation the other day,” he explained. “Not exactly the usual procedure, but still one we hardly could turn down. What was her name again, Eret? Kayley?”

“It’s Cami,” Eret corrected with a wink.

Astrid’s shoulders slumped a little. Right… The men would be at Freya’s Temple tonight; she’d completely forgotten about that. Almost against her will, her eyes flickered to Hiccup for a split second. The urge to secretly return here again tonight, to talk to him and solve this weird tension between them, was overwhelming. But if he wouldn’t even be here… Well, she’d have to wait another day then.

The thought made her anxious.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Daniel announced once the horses were all back in their stalls. The way back to the castle was a strange experience. Never before had she made this way in Hiccup’s company, much less in such a weird atmosphere. Daniel, Eret, and Dagur were as cheerful as ever, making insinuating jokes that, under proper circumstances, surely wouldn’t be for her ears. Hiccup was eerily quiet though, walking next to them but not reacting to their jibes nor making any comments himself, and only threw her a couple of covert glances every now and then.

It wasn’t hard for Astrid to guess what was on his mind. But as much as she wished otherwise – as much as she felt otherwise – they weren’t married yet. Wouldn’t be for a long time, in fact. It would be ridiculous to assume or even demand for him not to visit an Ástir for all that time. And she wanted him to know that.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” she announced once they reached the wing with their private chambers. The smile, with which she looked at each of them, was genuine. “Enjoy yourselves!”

In turning, she caught the pained and torn look on Hiccup’s face, but quickly looked away. She wanted to give him a nod, some form of reassurance that she didn’t mind. But with all their eyes on her, that wasn’t feasible. So she just raised her hand to wave over her shoulder at them all as she walked down the corridor, mentally preparing herself for another lonely night of tossing and turning.

It would be a long night.

. o O o .

As Astrid vanished back towards her chambers, Hiccup had to fight not to stare after her. Although, truth be told, it was an easy fight – fueled by his guilt. Gods, he’d been so stupid...

“Come on, if we’re visiting the Temple, we need to be presentable.” Daniel said, grinning and clapping him on the shoulder.

Hiccup nodded, glad over this distraction as the lessons on decorum that had been drilled into him for the last... Gods, was it almost six years now?, came back with a vengeance. The Ástir might not charge a fee, but you did not disrespect the Goddess they served by showing up slovenly. There usually were basic cleaning accommodations to be found at the Temple, but it was considered a sign of respect to show up presentable already when possible.

The four of them made their way to the castle bathhouse, which was near the residential quarters, and entered the men’s changing rooms. Once inside, Hiccup made his way to the back of the rooms, pulled off his soiled clothing, stinking of the stables, folded them, and left them on the lower shelf of the small cubbyhole that he’d been assigned when he’d arrived some weeks ago; the upper shelf had another of his tunics and trousers from his last visit to the baths, cleaned, laundered and waiting for him.

After getting a robe from the rack, he joined up with the other three, likewise berobed, and they made their way into the bathhouse proper.

It was a nice enough bathhouse, Hiccup had to admit, finely appointed, with warm stones underfoot, artistic mosaics on the walls, and with candles in scones providing a sufficient and soothing amount of light. But the pools here were heated by wood-fires, and part of him couldn’t help but compare them to... to his family’s baths, heated by a hot-spring, and find these baths wanting in comparison.

Daniel, Eret and Dagur were bantering as they entered the half-full hot pool, hanging their robes on the nearby hooks set there for that purpose; the other bathers waved hello, mostly to Daniel and the two ducal heirs, but continued on with their conversations.

As the hot water hit his leg, Hiccup sighed in relief.

“Good to take a load off?” Eret asked with concern.

Hiccup nodded numbly; it had been acting up a lot more over the last couple of days – and he knew exactly why. Sure, the unusual activities of the last days played a part too, but he knew that wasn't the only reason. Guilt pooled in his stomach, but he put on his best calm face and laid back in the pool’s seat, letting the warmth of the water soak into him, and claiming the soap-on-a-rope as it was passed around. Hiccup had to admit that much – the King’s bathhouse had some of the finest soaps he’d ever used.

Mostly, though, he kept quiet as the other three men bantered, feeling miserable.

Guilty and ashamed, but mostly miserable.

Gods, what had he been thinking?

Not now, he chided himself. He didn’t want to drown in his thoughts again, not now. Not when he was around people who could not – under any circumstances – know what he was thinking about.

About how soft their sister’s breasts were, how perfectly they fitted into his palm. About the moans she made when he licked her behind her ear. About how incredible it felt when her fingers dug into his back.

Thankfully, at least in the baths... that sort of reaction wouldn’t be commented on. Just the relaxing effects of the baths – or the thoughts of their upcoming visit to the Temple. At worst, he’d get teased.

But he couldn’t think of her like that! Maybe paying Cami a visit was a good idea after all. Not that he had any choice on the matter anyway, but still. He’d been reluctant, had wanted to find some way, any way out of it. But between Eret’s order and Astrid’s reassuring smile… Yeah, it probably wasn’t such a bad idea. It would at least take the edge off his desire, so that he hopefully could interact normally with Astrid again on their next meeting. Oh, how he longed to be alone with her again, to simply look at her, talk to her, to just be with her.

Daniel reached over and snagged the soap bar, which Hiccup hadn’t realized he’d been holding for this entire time, right out of Hiccup’s hands, the bar swaying from the soft linen rope that was embedded in it.

He gave the prince a sheepish smile, and opened his mouth to apologize, but Daniel rolled his eyes and waved him down. “Don’t worry about it, Hiccup. You have one of the finest minds that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and I understand if your thoughts were somewhere else.” He scoffed and nodded his head towards Dagur and Eret, who were cheerfully sculpting the soap-foam on their heads into outlandish shapes. “At least I know your thoughts are more productive than these two thickheads!”

Hiccup chuckled weakly as Dagur and Eret protested playfully. Oh, if he only knew...

Daniel lathered up and sniffed. “Hmm... lavender. Nice. And that reminds me, I wanted to drop by the bakery before we head over to the Temple. I promised Kaden to get her some of those lavender-and-lemon cookies.”

“Oho?” Eret commented, wagging his eyebrow. “You sure there’s nothing more to tell?”

Hiccup cocked his head, listening in with interest. Everything was good so long as it kept him from thinking too much.

“Yes, I am sure,” Daniel sighed. “It’s probably like with you and this Cami. I know her, and I like her. I’m more comfortable with her than with anyone else I don’t know at all. But that’s it. She’s a friend, and I know she likes these cookies. So, I’m going to treat her to some of them. End of story.”

Hiccup had his doubts on the ‘like you and this Cami’ part, but quickly dropped that thought again.

“It’d better stay that way,” Dagur sighed, unusually sober for once. “Believe me, it would only make your life complicated otherwise.”

Hiccup gave Dagur a confused look as Daniel placed a clearly comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked like he also wanted to say something, but before he could do so, one of the castle pages came up, panting slightly and red-faced – and fully dressed. That was odd in the baths.

“Your Highness,” the page said, coming to a halt at the edge of the pool and painting a hasty but deep bow, apparently aware of the depth of the breach of manners he was committing by coming into the baths like this. “My apologies for the interruption, but I was sent to come get you immediately.”

Daniel blinked. “Whatever for?”

“I was bid to give you this, Your Highness,” he said, still breathing hard, and handed over a small scrap of paper, “by the warden.”

Daniel’s brow had been wrinkled in irritation, but he took the note and read it.

Hiccup watched as Daniel’s expression went from curiously annoyed to angry to calm composure, and shared a look with Dagur and Eret. They returned it, just as confused as he was.

Daniel looked up after a moment, and then hauled himself out of his pool seat, and, dripping slightly, pulled his robe on. When he finally looked up again to meet their puzzled gazes, there was grim satisfaction on his face. “It’s… Sorry, but I need to go and meet my father.” He paused, biting his lip, then slightly shook his head. “Can you relay my greetings to Kaden? And maybe get those cookies for her as my apology? But this is important and can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Eret nodded. They all knew better than to ask for details when the Crown Prince wasn’t sharing them by himself, after all. Daniel nodded gratefully, and before either of them could say any more, he headed off towards the exit.

“Okay? That was weird,” Dagur stated, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Indeed…” Eret agreed. “But I’m sure we’ll learn what it was about eventually.”

They finished up in the pool without further delay, the banter from before having left with Daniel. With their fresh but too casual clothes on, they stopped by at their rooms in the residual wing of the castle to get something more appropriate for the occasion. Hiccup changed quickly and checked himself to make sure his outfit looked decent; casual in boots, trousers, and a fine tunic and vest, but still far more elegant than his usual stable boy attire.

He stepped out to where Eret was waiting, and was greeted with a nod and a broad grin. “Great. Dagur is already ready too, he’s waiting outside. Come on.”

“One could think you're a bit eager to meet… Cami.” Hiccup remarked dryly, inspecting his fingertips to ineffectively hide his smirk – and also cover up his own nervousness.

“Well, I am looking forward to seeing her,” Eret emphasised. “Everything else…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Hiccup chuckled, but didn’t comment further. Who was he to tease his cousin about being eager to spend the night with his lover, after all? Freya, if he could, he’d turn on the spot and look for Astrid’s rooms without a second’s hesitation. But he couldn’t. Aside from the tremendous inappropriateness of such an action, he had his duties to follow in accompanying his master, and also had to... let off some steam.

. o O o .

“Wow, these cookies really are delicious!” Eret said; he received a couple of weird glances from passersby, but otherwise went without a reprimand for his behaviour. Hiccup would at least have expected a few giggles at the side of him trying to talk past his mouth full of cookies.

They had gotten the lemon-and-lavender-flavoured cookies Daniel had requested for his friend, but also a parcel of cinnamon-flavoured pastries for Cami. ‘I clearly remember her saying she’d like to try those,’ Dagur had said upon seeing them in the bakery, and Hiccup had to agree. He, too, remembered that conversation they’d once had, back in Eastervale. Back when his biggest problem had been to decide between becoming a squire or a stable master…

“Hey, they’re not for you,” Dagur chided, taking the parcel away from Eret to prevent it from being empty once they reached the Temple. Although, after glancing down at the delicious treats and swallowing, he handed them over to Hiccup. “Here, you take care of these. I don’t trust myself either.”

Hiccup bit back a sarcastic remark while Eret pouted, “Spoilsport,” and stuck out his tongue at Dagur when he was sure he wasn’t looking anymore.There was a playfulness in his tone though, a lightness Hiccup hadn’t heard during the last couple of weeks.

“I saw that!” Dagur commented nonetheless, making all three of them laugh.

It was a relaxed stroll through the streets of the capitol toward the Temple. Not many recognised them, not like when they were accompanied by Daniel or Astrid. They were just three young men, looking both important enough and intimidating enough to not be bothered.

“Oh, hey. That’s just what I’ve been looking for,” Eret suddenly exclaimed, and ran ahead without a warning. “Just wait here for a moment, I won’t be long.”

“Jewelry?” Dagur called after him, disbelievingly staring at the sign atop the shop Eret headed to. “I knew you were into some weird stuff, but that’s new.”

Eret, however, just snorted. “That’s not for me, idiot. I just wanted to get Cami a ‘Welcome to the capitol’ gift. I’m sure it’ll come in handy when she’s dealing with some of those stuck-up nobleman around here. Just give me a minute.” And with that, he was gone inside the shop.

Hiccup and Dagur shared a baffled look and a shrug. A minute of waiting turned into a couple more though, and when Eret finally returned, a small box tied shut with a bow in his hand, he found that Dagur had helped himself to an additional parcel of cookies of his own, from another nearby bakery, and Hiccup was carrying another additional parcel, if smaller than the ones filled with pastries. He smirked at Dagur, snatched one of the cookies for himself, and then nodded at Hiccup’s purchase.

“What’s that?” he asked, wiping away crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

Hiccup shrugged, a little self-conscious. “Well, since you both were about to bring Cami a small gift, I thought showing up empty-handed would be weird. So I got her a small something from that shop over there.” He nodded at a large window at the other side of the alley where small wooden statuettes of varying sizes and forms were at display. That was one of the amazing things about the capitol to Hiccup; with all of the glass they made here, glass windows were commonplace, such that even shops in the market had them.

“Heh, a good idea,” Eret announced cheerfully. “A bit of a personal touch to her new home. What did you get her?”

Hiccup placed the delegated parcels of cookies onto a rock nearby, certain they’d be safe from poaching now that Dagur had his own, and opened his purchase. Inside was a small but detailed carving of a running horse, made of smooth reddish-brown wood.

“Oh, she’ll like that,” Eret grinned. “She said the horses all around Eastervale would surely be what she missed the most.”

Hiccup nodded. “I know, I was there too.”

“Right…” Eret rubbed his back, a little sheepish, then suddenly paused. He leaned in to closer inspect the horse, and laughed. “It looks like Markor.”

Frowning, Hiccup glanced at the horse too – and had to agree. And while he often had arguments with himself in the quiet of the night, this was definitely an escalation from the back of his mind.

“True,” he said with a slight laugh, trying to cover up his sudden nervousness. “I didn’t notice; there were several horses of all kind, but this one somehow caught my eye, and…” he trailed off, shrugging. Anxious not to say something he shouldn’t. The truth was that, despite his sincere wish to get a gift for Cami to treat her, it had also bugged him that he couldn’t get Astrid any gifts. Just something small would do, something solid, as a reminder. Or as an apology for his utter stupidity... But that would be too noticeable, too dangerous. So he’d settled on just getting something for Cami, but hadn’t been able to keep his mind from whirling around Astrid anyway.

And apparently, that had even influenced his choice of gifts…

Shit.

. o O o .

As the three of them entered the Grand Aesir Plaza, Hiccup swallowed as carefully as he could manage, but Eret spotted his reaction. “Right, this is your first time here, isn’t it, Hiccup?”

Hiccup nodded, looking around at the glorious architecture on display.

At the centre of the vast open square was a sacred grove of at least a dozen enormous trees and numerous smaller saplings, their leaves shed, but standing proud and tall. Statues of the Aesir, Vanir and some of the greater Jotunn ringed the grove.

But the outer periphery of the square was what really drew Hiccup’s attention. They’d entered through a covered tunnel, its walls and ceiling carved and painted with images from the sagas of the gods, and emerged into the square, giving him his first look at the place – an effect no doubt intended by the architect, and Hiccup had to give the him or her a mental salute for the effect.

The paving stones underneath their feet had the cobbles arranged in patterns of white, green and brown that suggested branches reaching out from the sacred grove and to the periphery. More trees grew in regular gaps in the pavement, and Hiccup noted that many of them were fruit trees, although the biggest and mightiest tree in the grove was a yew, still green and hardy despite the encroaching dark and cold. He remembered that this particular tree was supposedly almost a thousand years old, planted when the city was founded.

But the buildings... oh...

Where Hiccup had grown up, the temples were of wooden stave-and-post construction – built on vertical logs with one end sunk into a stone foundation and then a horizontal log across the top to connect them and form the structure. They could grow impressively complex, but they were still made of wood, of a tried and true – and boring and conservative – design.

Here, though... they had ventured into stone and glass.

Now that the initial shock had passed, Hiccup saw parallels with the newer wings of the castle, especially the residential wing, and he’d have to check later to see if the same architect had designed both structures – or maybe ask Daniel about it.

A doubled columnade, connected by arches, ringed the vast space, creating a covered space that connected the various temples; the columns were carved to look like trees, and the arches to look like mingled branches. And the buildings themselves...

They were massive confections of intricately carved stone, with stained-glass windows filling massive portions of the open walls. Much like at the residential wing, Hiccup saw flying buttresses, but these were long and elegant compared to the much more muted structures at the castle. But their reinforcement allowed the piers to hold up most of the weight of the roofs, which enabled the architect to allocate all of that the wallspace to the massive glass windows, which glowed in the late autumn gloom from the lights inside.

Undoubtedly, when the grand blots were held, this entire open space would be packed full of worshipers, many of them pilgrims from all over the kingdom, with the Fyrirs holding the sacrifices and prayers in the sacred grove itself.

Suddenly a hand waved in front of his face. “Hic?”

Hiccup blinked, and turned to look at Dagur, who wasn’t even bothering to hide his smirk. “What?”

Eret and Dagur shared a grin, and Eret said cheerfully, “You’d think that you just saw a pretty Ástir do a striptease in front of you from the way that you reacted.” He reached over and gently poked Hiccup in the forehead. “And I don’t think it’s the... bust of Freya over there that caught your attention.”

Hiccup stuck his tongue out at the pair of them and they both laughed.

They made their way in the plaza proper, and Eret and Dagur took turns playing tour guide; they’d been coming here since they were boys, so all of the wonder was long since worn off for them. In a bizarre way, Hiccup had found a second reason to be grateful that he hadn’t come to the capitol until he was an adult. The first was not growing up as Astrid’s brother, of course... but being able to appreciate such magnificence on their own merits for the first time as an adult, with all of the training and learning that had come with it, ranked on a good second place.

Much like the smaller temples elsewhere, the Temple complex functioned more as lodging, organization and work-spaces for the various Orders than as worship spaces, with the sacred grove fulfilling that function. So over there was the building that functioned as Frigga’s courthouse... there was the building where Freyr’s Order minted coins, blessed farming implements, and checked the weights and measures used by the merchants across the kingdom... there was Freya’s hospital for the sick – Hiccup saw a young mother carrying in a coughing child as they walked past – and right next to it was the home of the Ástir.

The door, carved and painted to resemble Fólkvangr, with Sessrúmnir visible in the distance, stood under a fifteen-foot-tall stained glass window of the goddess, riding her cat-pulled chariot, with Hildisvíni running at her side and wearing her cloak of falcon feathers – and nothing else – but before Hiccup could take a moment to appreciate either piece of art, Dagur and Eret each took one of his arms and practically hustled him through the door.

“Come back during the day,” Dagur said.

“It’ll look better, trust us,” Eret added.

Hiccup didn’t comment on their actual and rather transparent motivations, since they were right... and instead took in the foyer and the atrium beyond as they took off their boots and cloaks and handed them to an attendant waiting in the foyer, who took them and handed them small wooden chits with numbers on them.

Lush carpets were underfoot, insulating them from the cold stone, and, once past the foyer doors, Hiccup saw a cheery fire that burned in a large hearth which was surrounded by upholstered chairs and benches laden with cushions, most of them occupied. Tasteful sculptures of the goddess filled various niches in the walls, and Hiccup heard what sounded like running water. Turning towards the sound, his eyes went wide as he found the source – an honest-to-the-goddess waterfall inside the temple; water cascaded in a gentle flow down the stones of a five-foot-wide section of the wall between two windows and ended in a small pond on the floor.

“How...?” he asked, stepping towards it, but Eret’s hand clamped down gently – if firmly – around his upper arm, and he was pulled deeper into the atrium.

Around the atrium, there were numerous groups of people, socializing, eating, or engaged in what looked like intense discussion. Some, going by their dress, were noblemen, while others were members of the Temple of various ranks, and others were more humble city folk.

“Good evening, Milords,” a silky voice sounded from behind him, and Hiccup turned with a start. In front of them stood a woman he dimly recognised from Eret’s accolade, but hadn’t cared to remember so far. The short blond hair didn’t make Freya’s Fyrir any less beautiful, and her robe of black satin and golden silk gave her an air of unquestionable dignity.

“Good evening, fair lady,” Eret greeted her, bowing deeply. Hiccup and Dagur followed his example.

The Fyrir nodded, then cocked her head with an unreadable look. “I see His Highness did not accompany you after all,” she stated. There was no question in her voice.

“Indeed,” Eret confirmed. “Sadly, urgent matters kept him busy. He asked us to deliver these–” he held out the box off cookies Daniel had asked them to obtain– ”to Ástir Kaden in his name.”

The Fyrir nodded once more, then lifted her hand to beckon toward a woman sitting in a nearby niche and chatting to a handful of younger women. She nodded, excused herself from the group, and came over, a friendly and curious look in her big brown eyes.

“Yes, Fyrir?” she asked in a melodic voice, light brown curls bobbing around her face with every movement.

“Kaden, my dear, these lords brought a gift for you.”

The woman, Kaden, turned, her puzzled eyes brightening when she spotted the box Eret held out for her. “The Prince sends his regards and his apology,” he announced formally. “He is tied up in his duties and won’t be able to make it here tonight. He wanted to make good on his promise, though.” He handed over the cookies, and Kaden’s smile grew a few shades warmer.

“Oh, that is very kind of him,” she announced, beaming. “Please, convey my honest gratitude toward him. My pupils and I will enjoy these greatly.” She was about to bob a curtsey and retreat when the Fyrir made her wait.

“I know that you are eager to return to your class,” Mala said, her tone somehow soft and firm at the same time. “But since you have more than enough time for them tonight, would you be so kind as to inform Cami that her visitors arrived?”

“Visitors?” Kaden’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she eyed Hiccup and the others, but quickly caught herself again. “Of course, Fyrir Mala. I’ll let her know immediately.” They watched her retreat and disappear up a flight of stairs.

While they waited, Hiccup went over and examined the waterfall, unable to help his curious nature. A few moments of examination revealed a pipe cunningly hidden among the stone that apparently led upwards.

“There’s a rainwater cistern on the roof that feeds it and several fonts in the building, if you were wondering,” the Fyrir’s voice came from behind him, sounding amused.

Hiccup turned, feeling a bit sheepish, but the Fyrir looked pleased. “Go, rejoin your friends. Kaden won’t be long.”

As Eret rolled his eyes at him, Hiccup returned to the pair of them where they’d snagged small bowls of light broth from a pot by the hearthfire. The Fyrir’s words proved to be accurate as Ástir Kaden returned down the staircase a few moments later, politely smiled at them as she walked past, and returned to her class, who cheered as they were offered the cookies.

“I’d say this is proof then that Daniel was telling the truth,” Dagur snickered as the young women passed the box around. “I mean, she wasn’t even mildly disturbed by him not showing up. And let’s be honest, a box of cookies is not that fancy a gift, but she obviously was happy enough. How does the saying go again?” He smirked. “Ah, yes. ‘A man is smitten with the Goddess’ chosen when the purse at his belt swells like the purse of his loins, and–

“–and the chosen feels the same when she finds room in her heart and her coffer for his boons,’” Eret finished. “Yes, yes, okay. So they’re not in love. Better that way anyway, I guess.”

There was an odd tone in his voice at that, and Hiccup gave him a curious glance; he was missing something. All the saying meant was that you knew a man had fallen for one of the Ástir when his gifts grew extravagant... and she reciprocated when she kept them exclusively for herself, rather than sharing with the rest of the Temple. Like how the now-empty cookie box had been shared.

“Indeed,” Dagur agreed, then gestured toward an empty set of chairs. “But let’s sit down there. Walking here was exhausting.”

At that, Eret smirked. “What, you’re tired already? We didn’t even get started,” he teased. “How exactly do you plan to survive the next couple of hours?”

Dagur just cackled, and Hiccup couldn’t suppress some quiet laughter either as he followed them to sit down as well. Once seated comfortably, waiting for Cami to lead them to her rooms, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from running wild anymore though. He felt… torn. The prospect of spending a couple of… relaxing hours with Cami made him nervous in a way. Sure, this wouldn’t be their first time together, not by far. And being with an Ástir wasn’t meant to be romantic in any way either, not meant to replace the loving intimacy of a married couple. He should be looking forward to it, to get the brunt off the maddening desire raging within him. But he couldn’t shake off the thought that it was… not quite right. He couldn't stop thinking about Astrid, about how much he would prefer to be with her tonight instead. But that was a thought that had no place at all in Freya's Temple, and he hastily fought to banish it into the depth of his chaotic mind, hoping for Cami to hurry to distract him.

He didn’t have to wait long, only a couple of minutes. By then, the three of them were engaged in a conversation about the benefits of short swords, when Dagur suddenly went rigid.

“Oh shit!” he cursed under his breath, making Eret and Hiccup look up at him in confusion. “And suddenly, I’m incredibly grateful for whatever prevented Daniel from coming with us,” he muttered, staring past them with wide eyes.

Hiccup turned in his seat – and froze as he spotted the young woman descending the stairs.

Her wild blond mane, usually only loosely bound if at all, was braided in a complicated pattern halfway around her head until it hung in a long plait down her back, ornate with colourful sparkling stones around a light coronet. She wore an elegant dress in varying shades of blue that highlighted her bright blue eyes, the wide skirts, embroidered with a pattern of swans, waving around her lower half like a waterfall. In addition, she wore elegant gloves that reached all the way to her upper arms, and she moved with an air of dignity he hadn’t seen on her before.

A part of Hiccup knew it was Cami, recognised her face between the costume. But for a moment, all he could see was Astrid, dressed as she’d been under that borrowed cloak, back at that first day at the stables.

. o O o .

This is a wonderful place to let this chapter end... don't you agree? O:)But again, this is not the last chapter before the hiatus after all. Keep your eyes open, there'll be another one, probably on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Next chapter

#for the love of a princess #ftloap #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfiction #httyd fandom #royalty au #hiccstrid royal au #medieval au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU

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cloudybookash-blog · 5 years

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1-50 of the oc questions thing whenever u reblog it ho

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Second Heir to the Throne, Banished Princess... pretty self explanatory titles.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

I mean I guess. Raised as royalty with access to education, food, clothing, and physical training. Lonely, maybe, obviously she had a best friend so she was never truly alone. The banishment probably hit her hard but she’s a resilient character so she bounced back. A fond memory may be just a normal day during her banishment, playing wildly with a litter of Hell Hound pups her Uncle (also banished) was raising. A bad memory... more than likely seeing her father kill her mother and brother - the members of the family closest to her.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

She had a lot of love for her mother and grew up deeply respecting her father. Her mother spent a lot of time with the eldest son but was always first in line to comfort and cheer on her eldest daughter - as with any of her children. I don’ t actually really touch on many (if any) memories between my oc and her mother, because I got no clue what a loving mother/daughter relationship looks like lol. Some of the happiest memories between my OC and her father probably come from when he would throw her a knowing look in the middle of counsel whether it was because he was about to win an argument or the opposition were being idiots, he knew she’d understand and seemed to really enjoy his eldest daughters ruling attitude. Her worst memory would probably be her banishment as he’s the one who made the decree.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

She has three, an older brother and a young brother and sister. When they were young they were pretty close, there’s a massive age difference between the first two and the younger two. Her older brother was the only one of the siblings to visit the OC in her banishment so they stayed relatively close. Her older brother was always more focused on his turn to rule and how he would do so. Her younger siblings, when she returned from her banishment had obviously been turned more or less against her. She harbours no ill will towards them but is definitely sad. The relationship is not as hostile between her and her younger sister as they were quite similar kids.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

God almighty these are some nosey questions. Okay, OC is alien and royal. She was given specific lessons on specific topics but was never really taught in a school environment/class setting. Lots of one on ones. She enjoyed sports a lot, especially team sports which she could captain. And in her banishment became quite enthralled by animals (specifically Hell Hounds that her Uncle raised and trained in his banishment). Techinically they live A LOT longer than us so she’s been ‘learning’ for over 90years, but they also have a lot more history to learn, so I guess she didn’t finish? I think she probably hated the arts but only because she wasn’t an artsy type, she still had a casual admiration for the skill and its lessons because we love an appreciative queen.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

They (the royals) are given a type of special guard (one person) around their birth who accompanies them anywhere and everywhere. Not much else, they’re pretty elitist. No fraternizing with the commoners type stuff. But she obviously remained close with her guard.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

No pets as a young kid while living as a royal family member. And technically no pets in banishment but her Uncle made his money training Hell Hounds by the thousands and she was prone to getting attached and naming them. She loves animals as a whole though, although banishment meant she no longer had to retain royal conduct not many commoners wanted anything to do with a banished kid so animals became her friends. She’s pretty good with them.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

I mean technically she’s still a kid so...?

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

So far I don’t have any special requirements, diets or allergies for this particular OC.

12. What is their favourite food?

She likes fish.

13. What is their least favourite food?

Doesn’t like most sweet treats.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

I haven’t written in 8000 years so on the top of my memory I do remember a family meal but I have no clue what its purpose is or was so, WOOP!

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

She probably just likes making fish. Good at making fish. Not much else, royal family member and all.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

I was thinking about having her collect rocks because what child doesn’t? But I don’t know how to incorporate that into the story in a cohesive way.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

No cameras in this world. Maybe paintings but they’re on the run so I doubt they’d leap around and out of danger with a canvas portrait dragging them down.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else 19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Books aren’t really a luxury item, so no fiction books for the princess. Probably enjoys her planets form of country/pop music. No tvs, no films, no video-games.

BOOOOI I LITERALLY DON’T THINK ABOUT ANY OF THIS XD.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

She enjoys music, like I said she’s a casual admirer of the arts due to being personally terrible at them. She’s probably a foot tapper/head bobber type.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

She got a wild temper. When she was younger it would lead her into quite violent tantrums but through banishment she learnt to control it/think it through. Obviously still not completely in control but less likely to pop off on site.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

I don’t know as that she insults people actually? Maybe is just really sarcastic with them... huh, I know nothing about this OC apparently, who dis?

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Good memory, able to recall easily no matter how far back she has to go. Probably better with names as she didn’t get to meet a lot of people as a kid but definitely had to learn royal lineage and the like.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Sleep at night? More like whenever they can catch a wink, they’re in the middle of a war so... I would guess light snoring, she’s that bitch that can fall asleep on anything given half the chance.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

I imagined her to be a very severe child. Growing up in a country at war, the banishment, and social isolation probably left her very little room to be funny, whimsical more likely but I don’t think she’s the one to turn to if a joke is needed.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

They... smile? Loud, shrill laugher. Has a difficult time hiding her emotions as she’s quite sensitive to them in the first place.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Probably remembering the people she left behind or feeling like a failure, Growing up royalty and so close the throne in a country at war she’s grown up with the idea that she’d have to rule one day which means she internalized a lot as a youth in regards to how ‘good’ of a ruler she could be. With her banishment always hovering over her she probably cries a lot. I’m not sure if she lets other people see it?

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Probably not being good enough to rule, or even to win the war. Has a more inquisitive nature than a fearful one. Though that’s subject to change as previously she was RIDDLED WITH FEAR when I first came up with her.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Idk, be a good person and watch out for them I guess? Maybe, try to relate or make whatever scares the other person less scary by learning what she can about it.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Regularly, she’s fit af. I would think she’s very quiet before, and during any exercise as she probably views it as a good time to think. And afterwards is probably very chatty after all that thinking time logged in.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

No drinking. She’s a Child.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Practical clothing for most of the books. Something a little more regal in flashbacks coz royalty and all. Wear as little frills and laces as possible.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Just normal ones...?

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

SHE T A L L. Like we’re talking 2/3m + (remember alien) and that’s in her smallest form. Roughly 10m/30ish ft in original form. She’s still counted as a child by her people so probably really gangly with added form/muscle from physical training and being on the run. Nothing too special though (y’know, aside from that monstrous height.)

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

In war there is no pleasure. Nah, she probably just enjoys having friends and people to talk to/be with after so long of being a social outcast.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

I feel like I’ve already answered a similar q here... good at plaiting here and being persuasive. Likes learning about politics and playing with animals, going for walks and swimming especially if fish are involved. Can sing in her own native tongue but it’s an alien form to her new friends so they're not very appreciative.37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

Reads non-fiction only for learning, fast at it. Doesn’t know what poetry is.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

She admires people who are stoic yet caring. People who show good leadership characteristics and loyalty. She wishes she was able to care as much as other people seem to about the people in their lives.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Letters are about the only thing this worlds technology has atm so...

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

No processed goods here. She’s just a health god.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Hmmm... It’s not really explored in depth, romance isn’t a main plot point for her and she has a lot of other things on her mind but I always had her as bisexual. Reckon she goes for quiet people to balance her out and just coz she’s naturally drawn to them. Probably prefers someone who can keep up mentally and physically but not go on too far ahead of her, an equals type of thing? Needs support, she needs someone who can back her up without question but also needs someone who has a calming effect on her.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

To bring peace. She’d sacrifice everyone and everything, including herself to get it.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

I haven’t actually thought about whether or not her people had a religion or even if she had any. I do have characters that bring up theirs and she’s interested in learning from them. I don’t think this hard about her tbh xD I am a terrible writer.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

Probably spring. Likes that warm in the sun and cold in the shade type bullshit. All them new flowers and baby animals would just fill her heart to burst. Better in cooler weather as her people are nocturnal so they deal with night temperatures.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Some would view her as a good leader, persuasive and relatable. Caring of even the littlest guy. But those close to her would view her as mysterious/hard to understand/keep up with. She views herself as too sensitive and niave about most situations. She’ s spends a lot of this book in the dark and so doesn’t view herself very highly in terms of intelligence. Views herself as physically strong.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

Gives off a very judge-y type of impression. Will openly assess people on first meeting them. Quite accurate she is very judgemental in the beginning of her story. Usually on first meeting people she’s either trying to scare or persuade them into submission so... not the friendliest on the block.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

Can act very regal as she was taught, but finds such an act/conduct difficult the older she gets. Likes dressing fancy. She’s curious about social events as they’re so rare for her so she probably enjoys them.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Has never really been to one. Has been dragged to a type of party, just went with the flow.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

I don’t know as that she keeps any object on her constantly, for security or sentimentality. She’s kind of a wanderer but she loved her armours forearm cuffs.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Food, spare clothes and a weapon.

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toyherb · 4 years

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do you have ocs 👀?

I do! And I'm really sorry for how long this post is about to be.

I spend a lot of time in the character creator in video games 😅 I have a good handful of ocs for every game I play, if there's customization at all. back when I played dragon age inquisition and origins, I made a character for every background, and I have like 5 bloodborne ocs, 4 dark souls ocs, characters in The Sims, Stardew Valley and HM/SoS/RF, and like 6 DnD characters.

Oh my God and I had like 10 animal crossing ocs back when new leaf was popular. I really liked all the popular blogs that posted comics about their towns and their stories, so I had come up with my own ideas too. Those characters never really saw the light of day but I like them a lot still. My mayor was a childish teenage boy who had a birds nest for hair and wore a bear themed hoodie over his head. He was very shy and preferred night to day. (actual cryptid mayor) He wasn't really cut out for mayor but he did his best. His older sister was an archeologist. She was a workaholic, but also really outspoken and outgoing and also smoking hot. The other two human neighbors were a boy named River who was a total flower child who had a crush on the mayors sister, and there was a lesbian girl with a light purple micro bob who loved everything pastel and lolita and frilly but was also really snarky. Her girlfriend was Celeste.

I also had ideas for 4 other new leaf characters because I couldn't decide on a main cast lol. A college dropout who applied to be mayor on a whim and is surprised when she is elected (it was kind of like a harvest moon/sos situation) -- she does her best though. She was kind of supposed to be a normie, but I think she would secretly be a geek. She was vegan and was going to have a rivalry with her neighbor who is a chef who wants to cook the animals. She had a very by the books attitude, lol. OH and one of the neighbors I had in mind was a rocker girl, like Roxie from Pokemon BW2. I think the last character was going to be the mayors boyfriend, and they would be really deeply in love but it would be a slow burn lol. He was supposed to be a surfer boy but he had more of a sailor/fisherman look to him. Basically he just liked the ocean.

I have a lot of others but they are just ideas I havent fully developed. Rather than make actual original content, I tend to make ocs for existing things. Like, I have ideas for a harvest moon-style game and made characters for that, but when it comes to my other ideas they kind of just hang in my head. (Also that HM style game, I mainly focused on designing the characters rather than getting deep into their story...) I have an idea for another game with a haunted mansion silent hill kinda scenario, but the mc has amnesia and I havent really developed her more than that.

#long post #i wrote so much about animal crossing djbanananxbnsmabs #in new horizons i just play as myself and im happy with that #ramberling #many idea. no development.#my bloodborne ocs mostly exist just to be sexy lol #i mean they have some background #i have a vileblood noble who fucking loves blood and visceral aytacks #*attacks #and i have a more... religious zealot character #and then my og bloodborne hunter who is just like. yeah i fight beasts and im epic. im the coolest bitch in yharnam.#my current dnd oc has a decent amount of development but she is my first dnd oc so....#i have a few things i want to change about her i think

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years

Text

A night just as any other

Sugar! /0/

Spice! \0\

And everything nice! \0/

To create the perfect fluff

But Kanene accidentally (unless...)

Added an extra ingredients to the concoction--

Angst!!

*Explosion*

*Evil crackling*

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Thank you all very much for all the support, reblogs, heart and kinds words that you give to me. I can’t call this a christmas gift, but I really hope that you like it and this small oneshot is able to light up your day! ‘w’)s2

* This characters don’t belongs to me! Good Omens belongs to the incredible Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett; Aaaand the characters of this fic (and AU) themselves belongs to @10yrsyart

* Read here to know the AU Ducks and Dolphins and click here to see everything cannon about the D+D. It’s f a n t a s t i c! Reaaad! ^w^)s2

* Something around 1.200 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* This is not cannon. This idea just came because everytime I thought in a fluff, just appear plots of Az cheering up Crow, soooo I tried to challenge me a little and make the opposite. I hope I could demonstrate even a little bit of their personality (and don’t have misunderstanding them).

* Fanfic em português brasileiro (Portuguese Version) Thankys for reading, my lollipops! I hope you enjoy this, festive or not, day! Hug a demon, hug an angel and don’t forget to drink water!! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Aziraphale is calm, stoic, precise, bold, moralistic, firm, direct and ruthless if necessary. He is also sincere, generous, comprehensive, limpid and kind. He is as a pillar. A base. Something concrete, someone who you can lean on for support, trust, belief.

He knows very well how separate his work from his personal life. His feelings from his mind. He is rational, leaded primary by his brain and not-

And not ngk-

(Come on. Control your breath. Control yourself. One… two…three…)

In any way, under absolutely no circumstances by his feeli-

(Focus. Focus on something, something, some- a book! Take one of the books. Right. Very well. Focus!)

…

Damn.

There was no danger.

He settled back a little more on the furniture, held the book again, with a little firmer grip than needed as he readjusted it to a more comfortable position and so that there was no danger in his thick, warm tears researching its pages, eventually falling and blurring its words of the lovely sentences.

At least it was night, a night just like any other night with a weather of every other nights, where there would be no incident.

“Angel…?”

… Damn.

Crow approached closer from the upright and perfect pose, seeking his eyes and staring deeply into, the gold glittering in the night pitch, when found them. Az didn’t tried to hide these moments, at least not anymore, but neither did he show its when they became present. His voice came out a little faltering, yet in the calm and characteristic tune he always had.

“Crow, dear, I thought you were already sleeping.”

“I just woke up. I came for a cup of tea.”

Both knew this was a lie, still none of them really mentioned such information when the one with dark hair as the ebony of the night, a night just as any other one, removed the book of his carefully manicured hands and held them for a moment, intertwining their fingers as he got closer enough to finally entwining him in a hug. Separated the hold for a brief second, only to position the angel’s head on his shoulder, and then tightly hug him. As if he tried to show that, nothing, on Earth, Hell or Heaven, would be able to hit him without going over him, first.

It might seemed as any other previous hug, if it wasn’t for the fabric of his pajamas getting gradually wetter and the slight shivers and sniffles that let out the mouth of the one with blonde, almost white, hair. His cry was silently, and for a light of moment, Crow remembered his own cry, which could be described as any other, just a bit louder and with rumpled clothes.

Shook lightly his head, focusing in the present, in the possibilities, the sentences and words that would say after the storm. His mind felt lethargic and yet running in full speed almost at the same time. Combing Az’s hair and gave small, but big in meaning, pecks in his neck without even noticing.

The time lost meaning in this piece of time.

A hand tapped softly his back and the head slightly lifted. It was the signal to break the touch, and it was promptly obeyed.

“Do you want to talk about this?” His voice was a special whisper, packed, designated and delivered to just one being in the entire universe.

“There is nothing to be said.” Even with everything, his voice still lacking major flaws or slips, it was of a calm, sad nature. “It is just…” And the owner of hundreds of books, reader for thousands years and maestro of words ended up losing himself in them.

‘It’s just…’ Crow wondered if even the humans, at some point of their existence, could understand all the feelings and sensations between the lines that this phrase could possess.

Probably.

Everyone does, in some way or another, doesn’t it?

A piece more of time was spent. Maybe two, three, and perhaps a little more.

…

“We should go out.”

“What are you rambling about, Crow love? We always go out.”

“No. I mean… for something different! Not just a lunch.”

“A day to wander, you mean?”

“Maybe.” Shrugged, pondering, the tongue absently wriggling in the ar. Az tightened a bit more the touch, feeling lighter as allow his mind travel and dance between some possibilities for the future meaning of this conversation. “We should make a picnic!”

“A picnic?’

“Yes! In any place, nearby or far away! We could take the food or milacre there. I can give you a ride.”

His head turned, his heart floating and expanding when he saw that the trail of tears had faded from his husband’s face, and now the red was also beginning to gradually leave his skin.

Az pondered for a few minutes, eyes glomming.

“Let me tempt you, then.” Crow hissed, carrying on their internal joke, since they, after their last wedding-lunch, decided that from now on there would be no more dates, only weddings.

“I love you, Aziraphale.” Their eyes met.

“I love you, my husband.”

A recipe book was open, some bright smiles (maybe trying to help the stars?) too.

“Sure, my dear. I would never…” replied Az, trying to decide which color would most highlight Crow’s duck patterned pajamas.

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