#so he's probably soured on that prickly and aggressive personality

[llycaons]

it's very sweet when wwx is like 'aw jin ling is just like his uncle' in postcanon fics but I have to laugh because in canon he's literally like 'ugh, jin ling is JUST like his uncle 🙄'

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (1/8)

Read on Ao3 (For better interface + formatting) 

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M, Kidnapping, Degrading Language (not from Bucky)  A/N: This story takes place post-Endgame, but everyone is happy and living in the compound and nobody died :-) Because I said so. Also switches POV between Reader and Bucky, with Reader in first person and Bucky in third! Follows typical A/B/O dynamics, with some random headcanons thrown in and explained.

The first thing I felt was the searing pain in my wrists.

My eyes flickered open, slowly taking in my surroundings, my heartbeat picking up as each terrifying detail came into my line of sight. My back ached terribly, cold cement beneath my skin. I was slumped in the corner of some kind of cell. It was dimly lit—just light enough to reveal the shadows of the large space, and the light of a hallway stretching to my right through the bars of the cell. I looked down at my body to find it clad in the clothes I’d been wearing the night before. My shoes were missing, plain socks dirty on my feet.Worst of all— my wrists were bound in a thick metal band, glowing with a soft blue light that ached where it touched my skin.

My memories were blurry. The last thing I remembered was approaching the front door of my 3rd floor walkup late at night, seeing a shadow slip from the dark alley to my left, before everything went black.

The red-haired agent had warned me it was only a matter of time before those with bad intentions discovered me and the things I could do. If I could, I would have kicked myself for not listening to her when I’d been warned.

I lifted my hands to test my powers, summoning the energy I felt like an icy throb in my chest. But when I tried to channel it down through my hands, urging even a snowflake to appear, all I felt was a stinging pain. Whatever the device on my wrists was, it completely neutralized my abilities. If my heart had been beating fast before, now I was approaching unprecedented levels of panic. Deep breaths, deep breaths, I told myself. Panicking won’t get you out of here. But as I took my next inhale, my other senses kicked in.

The second thing I realized? I was not alone in this cell.

I could smell my own scent, layered with sickly sweet anxiety and the sharp, metallic scent of panic. But a foreign scent, distinctly Alpha drifted towards me from the shadows of the cell. I instinctually curled closer to the wall, my Omega hindbrain working overtime to protect me. Bare your throat. Make yourself small. You are defenseless. Not like I needed the reminder with the sharp pain still throbbing at my wrists.

I curled into a small ball, taking a quiet gulp of breath to assess the situation as I peered futilely through the shadows. I didn’t smell anger, or danger—just a heady, strong Alpha scent. Cedar, a hint of campfire and the crisp, clean scent of… snow. Not typical. But… good.

But the Alpha scent also had a hint of something else. Something strong. Something like rut. I tilted my head, confused— I heard a shifting, and the glint of metal moving in the far right corner of the cell. Two pinpricks of light—his eyes— lifted up and connected with mine.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose in fear. An Alpha nearing rut. Locked in a cell. With me. I took another few deep lungfuls of air, willing my heart rate to slow down and making myself smaller. Whoever locked me in here couldn’t have had good intentions. Should I… introduce myself?

I didn’t get the chance to decide. A door at the end of the hallway opened, and a pack of men filed in to stand outside the cell doors, peering in at me. I squared my jaw, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself centered and tamp down on the inner voice telling me to submit.

“Not so powerful now, are you?” barked a weaselly looking Beta at the front of the group. He wore a tactical vest, buckled in an X shape in the front. His muscles, overcompensating an embarrassing amount for his designation, bulged on his compact frame.

I glared at him. “What do you want with me?”  I spit.

He laughed. “Careful with that nasty attitude, Omega.”

I suppressed the disgusted shiver that trembled down my spine at his use of my designation.

“Big Guy in there won’t like a defiant bitch,” he continued. The men at the back of his pack laughed darkly. “Better get ready to submit.”

The Alpha in the corner was still motionless— still staring. I felt dread settle in a pit in my stomach at what they implied. Show no weakness. I put on my most defiant face.

“Oh, him?” I tossed my head in the Alpha’s direction, feigning indifference. Don’t show fear. “You can’t scare me. Take these cuffs off me and let’s see who submits first.”

The Beta growled, the laughter momentarily draining from his face, hackles raised. “Shut up, whore.” Then, he seemed to remember I was in the cell and he was outside of it. He smirked, before turning around to head back down the hallway with his pack. “You’ll see.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as quietly as I could, willing my anxiety to settle so I could think. But it was then that the Alpha decided to stand and stalk slowly towards me.

Rationally, I knew Alphas were big and scary. They always were— overly tall, overly aggressive, insufferably controlling and dominant, and so strong-scented it made me feel lightheaded and stuffy. But this Alpha, well, all of the above was an understatement. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a wide chest and legs thick with muscle. He was wearing tight-fit, black clothing that showed off the muscles of his body to an exorbitant degree, and it looked, well, tactical—buckles and straps and belts with holsters that had been disarmed by whoever threw him in here with me. His face was still mostly in shadow in the dim cell, but I could make out curtains of brown hair and a strong jawline speckled with stubble. And the closer he got to me, the stronger his unique scent grew, washing over me like a wave— along with the growing scent of his rut.

You’re staring. Be small, my Omega hindbrain reminded me. I cowered, feeling fear wash over me again. What if he was in on this with them….I didn’t let myself think that far. I turned my head to the side slightly, baring my throat in an appeasing way to the dominant force in the room.

Then the Alpha’s full form came into my line of sight, and I realized exactly who I had been trapped in a cage with. Oh, fuck.

—————

Bucky didn’t know what possessed him to step forward. Chivalry, perhaps? Though according to Steve, that whole concept had died in the 21st century. Omegas didn’t look to Alphas for protection the way they had in the 40s. Something urged him towards the defiant Omega in the corner, and he would be lying if it didn’t partially have to do with her intoxicating scent and the weird and uncharacteristic prickliness he was experiencing that he couldn’t shake off. Her scent was sweet like peppermint, laced with the crispness of a cold gust of winter wind, but her anxiety at waking up across from him had soured it slightly. He didn’t blame her—but he couldn’t resist another lungful.

Bucky stepped forward slowly, his movements measured so as not to scare her. She had pushed herself as far into the corner as possible, her throat bared and chest rising and falling quickly. But as his face—and his recognizable arm— came into view, he saw the change in her expression as realization dawned. She gasped, her scent turning dark and desperate with fear. He stopped short, swallowing. Fuck.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. Then, improvising, he lowered to his knees in a position he hoped looked as non-threatening as possible, turning his face to the side to show her his throat in return. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… I’m—“ He stopped, shutting his eyes in resignation. This was not going well. She was still panicked, curling in on herself.

“I’m in control,” he said, hoping that would be enough to quell her fears. These days, the public knew all about the Winter Soldier and the horrible things his hands had done. But Shuri had erased the loophole from his brain over six years ago now, if you count the blip. Which is why it made no sense that Hydra had gone to such lengths to trap him here on a mission gone awry in Northern Europe.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell, though. He estimated he’d been trapped here for no more than about 15 hours, and he didn’t doubt that Steve, Sam and the rest of the team would track this base down within 24. He’d already examined his body for injuries, tested the bars for give and scoped out any other potential entry and exit points before Hydra agents had cracked the cell door with three assault rifles trained on him and dumped the Omega inside three hours ago. The only thing that felt off was this strange, growing feeling that he needed to get out of his skin. He’d already removed his outer layer of Kevlar, feeling hotter than normal.

The woman looked normal enough, besides the panic taking over her faculties and the unknown, bulky device clasped around her wrists. She was small, but deceptively strong—he could see the lean lines of muscle on her limbs. Her long hair was loose around her pretty face, and they’d removed her shoes— if she’d even been wearing any in the first place. But god, her smell. Bucky couldn’t help taking another deep lungful, trying to be as discreet as possible. It was like his body was on autopilot, drifting closer and closer to where she was pressed against the wall.

She looked confused by his placating bared throat. Nowadays, Alphas were insufferable hotheads. She’d probably never seen one so willing to submit to an Omega. Bucky noticed that the rise and fall of her chest was slowing. “A-are you really….?” she practically whispered.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “The Winter Soldier?”

She nodded back—so small, it was almost imperceptible.

“You can call me Bucky. I’m not— The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore.” He laughed a little. “They actually call me the White Wolf now…”

Something was wrong with his body. He was feeling itchy—painfully so now. He shifted forward even closer, on his knees, and she flinched imperceptibly— turning to face the wall next to her. He took another deep lungful of her scent, and the sweetness lit every cell in his body on fire. Was he… getting hard?

Realizing her distress and how close he’d gotten to her body, Bucky stood up and put distance between them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on…” He gasped. Her scent was addicting. His Alpha was screaming at him to close the distance, grab her, shove his face into her scent gland and inhale. To run his hands all over her body, to rut into her, to sink his teeth into her gland and bite, to claim her as his own and mark her body all over…. Holy shit. He was going into rut. After 75 fucking years, he was going into rut while trapped in a Hydra cell with an unmated Omega.

Against his better instincts and training, Bucky started to panic.

————

I could tell exactly the moment that the Winter Soldier—Bucky, I corrected myself— realized what was happening. He’d been drifting closer and closer to me, his ice blue eyes trained on my gland, taking deep lungfuls of my scent as if I couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing.

When he recognized my distress, he forced distance between us, wiping sweat from his forehead and inspecting his hands—one flesh, one metal— as if they’d have an answer.

“Rut,” I said quietly. Our eyes connected. His were wide, panicked. His scent was sharp with fear and anxiety, so strong with lust it was making me dizzy. I pushed my forehead against the cold cement wall to center myself. Why would they kidnap me as Omega bait for a fucking Avenger? Why me?

“I’m on suppressants—I don’t know how…” He trailed off, then abruptly ripped the leather sleeve off his shirt in one swipe to inspect his upper arm. Holy shit, he was strong. I mean, I knew he was a super soldier, but Jesus Christ. “They stuck me with something.” His jaw was set in a tight line when he turned back to look at me, pupils blown wide with lust.

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

He growled sharply in frustration, slamming his metal fist into the concrete wall of the cell so hard that cracks appeared on impact. I yelped in fear, my heart racing. Before I could open my mouth to apologize submissively, he dropped down to his knees again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I—“ He cut off, growling in frustration, fists clenched at his sides. He shook out his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes, before he looked up to meet mine again. “Please, don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you,” he said through gritted teeth.

I nodded weakly, feeling the tears start to spill from my eyes. He was trembling now. Whatever they gave him was working quickly, and the strain of keeping himself contained was obvious in the restrained quiver of his limbs. Maybe I was fucking crazy, but I actually felt sorry for him. An ex-assassin Avenger twice my size, pumped full of super soldier serum and rut hormones. That couldn’t feel good— especially not with his history.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated again. This time, it seemed more like he was trying to convince himself. His hands were clenched so hard I could hear his Vibranium fist squeak with the strain. “I won’t. I won’t—“ he gasped for a centering breath.

Against all rational instinct, I started to believe him. He wouldn’t hurt me. At least— he really didn’t want to.

I knew about the Winter Soldier. Everyone did. How Hydra had kidnapped him, tortured him, and turned him into a brainwashed weapon for their murderous intent. I couldn’t imagine how horrible this would be for him— with his very public history— to have control wrested from him again. Especially like this.

Comfort Alpha, my inner Omega cooed unhelpfully. Alpha is hurting. Help him.

Fighting back my fear, I came to my hands and knees on the cell floor, shuffling a few paces forward until we were only a few feet apart. He was still shaking slightly, murmuring to himself in what sounded like Russian, breathing shallowly. I risked another lungful of his scent, and it made my Omega go wild. I felt my own body start reacting to his arousal, my scent billowing out in soothing notes, slick between my legs. It was impossible for Omegas to launch into a sympathetic heat when they were distressed or in danger, but I couldn’t ignore how intoxicating his scent was to me— or the growing need I felt to soothe and calm him as his chest heaved with the strain of restraining himself.

“Get— Get away from me. I can’t—“ he spit through gritted teeth. I paused, hesitating, my bound hands reaching towards his knee. “I don’t want to hurt you—“

“It’s okay,” I murmured soothingly, hardly recognizing the calm sound of my voice when my heart was racing a million miles an hour inside my chest. I was too cowardly to be a hero before, when the red-haired agent had found me and urged me to join her. I had always run from responsibility and hidden my abilities from the world. Maybe today, I could be courageous.

I placed my hands on his forearm, feeling the sweat-slick heat of him. His head slowly raised to look at me. Up close, I could see his plush lips, the stubble along his jaw, his pupils blown wide with lust. His scent, God.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Bucky was panting now. “I— I trust you.” He narrowed his eyes at me disbelievingly, but my words and tempting closeness seemed to tamp down his initial panic. He leaned in closer, close enough that I could see the stubble of his jaw, his adorably delicate ears tucked behind the loose strands of hair framing his face, the plush cupid’s bow of his lips.

The pictures in the news don’t do Alpha justice, my Omega murmured.

“Isn’t someone coming for you? Aren’t you, like… a superhero?” I asked.

He grimaced, breaking eye contact. “I’m not a hero. But the team should be here within a few hours. We’ve never… lost someone for longer.”

I took a shaky breath. Okay. So we’re getting out of here.

“Do you know what they want?” I murmured. I could guess. Scum like Hydra only see Omegas as good for one thing: breeding. But I didn’t want to voice the horrible thoughts out loud.

He scoffed. “Whatever it is… I won’t do it.” The resolve set in his jaw, muscles ticking as we made eye contact again, the scent of his rage and restrained instincts washing over me— bitter as gunpowder and steel. He was still trembling, fists clenched. “I won’t.”

I felt something soften inside of me at his words. I should be terrified, rolling over on my stomach to submit— throat bared —but I felt… protected.

“Do you mind— Would it be okay if I—“ He cut himself off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and looking pained.

“If…?”

“It helps if I can… scent you,” he sighed. “I won’t—“

Before he could finish that thought, I nodded my head in assent. There’s no greater pain to an Alpha in rut than being unable to touch. I shifted off my knees, intending to curl against his side, but he shocked me by standing and scooping me up into his arms, returning to the shadowy corner of the cell he’d been in when I’d first woken up. I bristled a little at his intentions, but he quickly set me down on a soft pile of leather and thick canvas that smelled strongly of his heady cedar scent— clothes he must have shed from the heat of rut.

“Sorry,“ He murmured. “I won’t touch you if you—“

“It’s okay,” I interrupted, taking a deep breath to steady myself and leaning back to get more comfortable. He hovered over me, propping his metal arm by my head. His ice blue eyes searched mine, our breaths loud in the quiet of the cell as we settled into the comfort of each others’ scents. I tilted my head to the side a bit, feeling my mating gland peek out from behind my hair.

Bucky growled softly, leaning down to press his face into my neck and taking deep lungfuls of my scent. I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing my bound hands awkwardly to touch his side to anchor myself. Under my palms, I could feel the tension leaving his muscles as he breathed me in.

“Omega,” he groaned, his voice raspy and deep. I shivered. Arousal stirred in me again, his chest pressed tight to mine as he nose trailed up and down my neck, into my hair and onto my cheek. “You smell so good. Fuck,” he whispered.

He was starting to lose himself. His flesh hand came to my waist, strong grip catching me off guard as he settled closer to me. My heart rate picked up again, and I fought the urge to bolt. Alpha won’t hurt you, my Omega supplied. Please your Alpha. Bucky must have picked up on my fear, because he pushed himself back.

“Sorry. I’ll—“ He shifted so he was laying next to me but with his lower half intentionally tilted away, arm across my waist and face near enough to my gland that he could continue to breathe me in. “Okay?” He grunted. I nodded, shocked that he was able to control himself enough to hold himself stiffly away from me. The scent of rut was so strong that from what I knew about Alphas, he should be animalistic with lust— unable to stop himself from shredding my clothes and taking me on the cell floor. Small mercies.

“Sleep,” he said gruffly. When I didn’t move or shut my eyes, he tightened his much gentler grip on my waist. “Please. I won’t… I won’t do anything. We’ll be out of here, before…” he trailed off, again. Boy, was he a man of few words. But he didn’t need to say it out loud for me to understand his meaning: Much longer, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

I took another soothing breath, trying to settle myself. Alpha wants you to sleep, my Omega purred. Alpha will protect you. For once in my life, I listened. I took in a lungful of his strong smell, taking comfort in the protective weight of his arm thrown over me, and let myself drift off.

[lonemiqote]

FFXIV Character sheet!

Link to blank template! (Thanks @bluespiritfire!)

Name: T’khot Soulblaze (people who have trouble with Miqo’te pronunciation usually call him Tiko, pronounced Teeko) Age: 25 at the start of ARR Pronouns: He/Him Birthdate:  22nd Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Miqo'te, Seeker of the Sun from the T tribe (only technically)

Hometown/city: Hyrstmill Current residence/popular haunt: Popular haunt is Ishgard. Also has a workshop in The Goblet.

~~APPEARANCE~~ Eyes: brown | blue | green | gold | red | purple | multicoloured | other (…) Hair: brunette | black | blonde | crimson red (slightly grizzled) | grey/white (aged or natural?) | multicoloured | none | other (…) Hair type: straight | curly | ringlets | wavy | wiry | frizzy | voluminous | thin | other (…) Hair style: Long and wavy (it’s one of the basic hair styles, don’t think it has a name) Body type: beefy | curvaceous | fat | lean | muscular | petite | skinny | stocky | other (…) Height: short | tall | 169 cm Skin: ashen | caucasian | dark | fair | freckled | olive | tanned | other Facial features: birthmark | beard | face paint | fur | scales | scars | tattoos | other (…) Body features: birthmark | beard | ears (pointy, furry and on top of the head, like all Miqo’te!) | face paint | fur | missing limb/s | scales | scars | tail | tattoos | other (…)

Favourite/commonly used clothes Duelist’s attire, minus the hat (he hates having his ears squished!)

~~SKILLS~~ DoL/DoH Botanist | Fisher | Miner | Alchemist | Armourer | Blacksmith | Carpenter | Culinarian | Goldsmith | Leatherworker | Weaver fun | profit | self-sustainability

~~COMBAT~~ Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Fighting style aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? He doesn’t like getting up close and personal with opponents, so he isn’t developing any melee skills (apart from the melee half of his Red Mage abilities)

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~ abrasive | abusive | accepting | aggressive | analytical | anxious | arrogant | assertive | brave | bossy | calm | caring | cautious | cheerful | chronic liar | confident | controlling | cowardly | creative/inventive | cunning | curious | determined | disinterested | envious | fearless | frosty | frugal | generous | greedy | gullible | honest | humourous | impatient | impulsive | indifferent | insecure | intelligent | irresponsible | jealous | just | kind | loyal | lustful | manipulative | materialistic | meek | modest | money-driven | naïve | narcissistic | oblivious | overbearing | patient | passive | perceptive | possessive | prickly | quiet | relaxed | religious | sarcastic | secretive | self-assured | self-conscious | self-deprecating | selfish | selfless | spiritual | strict | stubborn | tired | thoughtful | unpredictable | virtuous | vocal | wary | wise | other

~~LIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Favourite Dish: Ishgardian Muffin or Kaiser Roll, toasted and with Smooth Butter on top Favourite Colour: Red and purple Favourite Sound: Water lapping Favourite Smell: Grass Favourite Place: The Firmament Favourite Holiday: N/D Other: Cheerfulness, honesty

~~DISLIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Least Favourite Dish: Anything with mushrooms Least Favourite Colour: None. He likes yellow a bit less, maybe Least Favourite Sound: People yelling Least Favourite Smell: Gunpowder Least Favourite Place: Ul’dah Least Favourite Holiday: N/D Other: Lying, greed

~~HOBBIES~~ art (what medium/s?) | adventuring | cooking | fighting/sparring | finance | gardening | golden saucer attractions (Lord of Verminion, chocobo racing, Doman mahjong, triple triad) | hiking | hunting (game or hunt marks) | lacks hobbies | music | physical sports | reading (history books, essays and any kind of educative content) | running | scrapbooking | sewing/knitting/other needlework | sightseeing | socialising | swimming | training | writing | other (…)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other (Edmont de Fortemps, whom he considers sort of a father figure) Siblings: None Children: None Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married (technically?) | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated | other (grieving his lover, but has also recently forged a bond with someone else and is experiencing complex and conflicting feelings about it)

Friends: The number of people he his really close to can be counted on the fingers of a single hand. One notable example is his childhood friend Khelben Soulblaze. Rivals/Enemies: No one he considers a true enemy or rival, because he usually gets (a bit too much) into others’ shoes. To him, opponents are just people who put themselves between him and the safety of those he cares about for one reason or the other. The only ones who managed to actually anger him are Teledji Adeledji and Thordan VII.

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? Even simply looking for a particular someone’s company is a big show of affection coming from him. Holding hands without gloves and/or in public is a sign of deep trust and love.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~ abuse (ongoing or recovering, verbal or physical) | acceptance | a new relationship (a close friendship turned deep bond) | a new romance | betrayal | broken heart | budgeting | bullying | caution | confidence | crisis of faith | depression | grief | health issues | how to trust | learning from a mistake | loss | love | new people | new place | opening up to someone/others | parenthood | physical changes (loss of a limb or other sense, inability to do things previously able to) | politics | PTSD | poverty | racism | reconciling previously held beliefs | responsibility | sacrifice (of himself and of others) | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value myself | to value others | trauma (medical, mental AND emotional) | war | wealth | other (…)

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? For the negative ones, mostly avoidance and denial and bottling up his feelings, but he’s striving to open up about his troubles  at least with his best friend.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He views weapons as mere tools and has no attachment whatsoever to any one in particular.

Notable Mounts A Black Chocobo. Or rather, THE Black Chocobo.

Notable Minion/s A Coeurl Kitten he keeps at home, and the wind-up Haurchefant Stephanivien made for him that he brings about everywhere, to show it all the places he visits.

Keepsakes/Mementos A Fortemps signet ring that Haurchefant secretly slipped to him as a promise ring. He wears it on a necklace.

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Hyper-sensitivity (especially in the hands, probably has psychosomatic roots) and over-empathy, if these can be counted among “disabilities”. They sure are impairments in some situations. How do they deal with these? By wearing gloves most of the time except when he bathes, fundamentally. Also being introverted and not showing much in the way of feelings is sort of a self-defence mechanism at times.

Education Level Mostly self-taught (apart from the very basic reading and writing education imparted to him by a village conjurer as a child), but pretty high since he likes to read and study any scrap of paper with information on it that he comes across.

Habits When available, he climbs on trees to read. Wherever he is, he never fails to take a cup of the local tea variety in the morning, it matters not whether with food or not. He loathes getting dirty and has to clean himself as soon as he can in that case.

Other Despite being completely disconnected from his Miqo’te heritage, he cannot help but show the mannerisms and instincts of his kind. He has a tendency to climb to higher ground, loves high places and gets anxious in crowded zones. His tail gets all puffed up when he’s nervous or gets scared by something sudden, he sometimes gets the zoomies, and his gaze is unvoluntarily attracted by quick movements.

[burning-indigo]

[LFRP] Saibashi Moontide of the Blue

Name: Saibashi Moontide Age: 63 Pronouns: He/him Birthdate: 13th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~

Race: Kojin of the Blue Interracial heritage: N/A

Hometown/city: Tamamizu Current residence/popular haunt: Kugane, Shishu Island, Hingashi

~~APPEARANCE~~

Eyes: brown | blue | green | gold | red | purple | multicoloured | other (white) Hair: brunette | black | blonde | red (ginger or crimson?) | grey/white (natural) | multicoloured | none | other (…) Hair type: straight | curly | ringlets | wavy | wiry | frizzy | voluminous | thin | other (…) Hair style: Kojin topknot Body type: beefy | curvaceous | fat | lean | muscular | petite | skinny | stocky | other (…) Height: short | tall | specific measurement (…) Skin: ashen | caucasian | dark | fair | freckled | olive | tanned | other (grey) Facial features: birthmark | beard | face paint | fur | scales | scars | tattoos | other (freckles) Body features: birthmark | beard | ears (anything unique about them) | face paint | fur | missing limb/s | scales | scars | tail | tattoos | other (metal weight over a crack in his shell)

Favourite/commonly used clothes Either typical Kojin accessories, including tasuki and obi, or Hingan attire.

~~SKILLS~~

DoL/DoH Botanist | Fisher | Miner | Alchemist | Armourer | Blacksmith | Carpenter | Culinarian | Goldsmith | Leatherworker | Weaver fun | profit | self-sustainability

~~COMBAT~~

Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Fighting style aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Saibashi lacks much skill with aetherial manipulation, so he rarely practices any magic.

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~

abrasive | abusive | accepting | aggressive | analytical | anxious | arrogant | assertive | brave | bossy | calm | caring | cautious | cheerful | chronic liar | confident | controlling | cowardly | creative/inventive | cunning | curious | determined | disinterested | envious | fearless | frosty | frugal | generous | greedy | gullible | honest | humourous | impatient | impulsive | indifferent | insecure | intelligent | irresponsible | jealous | just | kind | loyal | lustful | manipulative | materialistic | meek | modest | money-driven | naïve | narcissistic | oblivious | overbearing | patient | passive | perceptive | possessive | prickly | quiet | relaxed | religious | sarcastic | secretive | self-assured | self-conscious | self-deprecating | selfish | selfless | spiritual | strict | stubborn | tired | thoughtful | unpredictable | virtuous | vocal | wary | wise | other

~~LIKES~~

Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Favourite Dish: Sea sponge salad, mugwort carp Favourite Colour: Blue Favourite Sound: Thunder, metal clashing, fireworks Favourite Smell: The sea, gunpowder Favourite Place: Sakazuki & Limsa Lominsa Favourite Holiday: Moonfire Faire, Tamamizu Matsuri (Tamamizu's largest festival, in dedication to Susano) Other: Boldness in people

~~DISLIKES~~

Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (desert) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Least Favourite Dish: Shellfish (particularly geoducks) Least Favourite Colour: Purple Least Favourite Sound: Pen clicking Least Favourite Smell: Trash on the beach Least Favourite Place: Thanalan Least Favourite Holiday: None Other: Cowardice in people

~~HOBBIES~~

art (what medium/s?) | adventuring | cooking | fighting/sparring | finance | gardening | golden saucer attractions (Lord of Verminion, chocobo racing, Doman mahjong, triple triad) | hiking | hunting (game or hunt marks) | lacks hobbies | music | physical sports | reading (what kinds of things?) | running | scrapbooking | sewing/knitting/other needlework | sightseeing | socialising | swimming | training | writing | other (…)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~

Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other Siblings: Five brothers Children: None Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated | other (…) Friends: For as overbearing as some consider Saibashi to be, he makes friends rather easily. Rivals/Enemies: More prone to making rivals then true enemies. His only real enemies are those that scorn the realm of the kami.

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? Nobody enjoys Saibashi's method of humor. Especially his closer friends.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~

abuse (ongoing or recovering, verbal or physical) | acceptance | a new relationship (unlikely friendship, step-sibling/parent, etc) | a new romance | betrayal | broken heart | budgeting | bullying | caution | confidence | crisis of faith | depression | grief | health issues | how to trust | learning from a mistake | loss | love | new people | new place | opening up to someone/others | parenthood | physical changes (loss of a limb or other sense, inability to do things previously able to) | politics | PTSD | poverty | racism | reconciling previously held beliefs | responsibility | sacrifice (self or of another) | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value myself | to value others | trauma (medical) | war | wealth | other (…)

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? Saibashi takes hardships in stride, believing these to be either blessings or curses in their own right.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~

Notable Weapons Twin pistols (one silver, one black) named Claire de Lune and Moon River, respectively.

Notable Mounts None

Notable Minion/s A little Susano minion his ally Nim Brasher ( @infiniteleftdoesffxiv​ ) gifted him for his nameday.

Keepsakes/Mementos Searching for a comb housing Kushi-nada-hime to bring back to the Vault of Tamamizu.

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Saibashi has a crack in his shell from a Garlean boat rudder. The crack sealed air underneath his shell, making it a bit difficult to dive on his own. Saibashi like to dub it 'bubble butt'. Otherwise, he is unencumbered.

How do they deal with these? A stainless steel weight of a few ponze is drilled into Saibashi shell to level out his buoyancy underwater.

Education Level Saibashi was mentored by his elders, eventually graduating to become a member of the Divine Circle.

Habits Aside from blowing money after a successful job in celebration and his archaic taste in music, Saibashi is probably best known for the rancid things he has to say out of his hell-mouth constantly. Something appears in his awful brain and he has to say it.

Template for LFRP found here!

Contact this blog, @shamans-of-reeds​, or Discord me at FullOfSandwiches#3541 if you’re interested in plotting!

[shardclan]

Dawn had come and gone over the Promenade, but the inside of the room was darkened by the stormy expressions of its occupants. The strange tundra was sprawled out on a bed of roc down in one of the spacious back rooms of Promenade Medical where full-form dragons could be treated.

Telos hadn't left him. Not even when Zo had returned with Junior and Abaddon. Not when Lutia had shown up in surprisingly cool temper only to be followed by Safiri in a fit of fury the likes of which none of them had ever seen. Telos might have been pressed to control her if Hart had not also made an appearance. His anger was silent, but the pressure of it left little room for anyone else's. Rather it seemed to absorb them, binding them together into a united  force with only one target worth striking at.

So they sat in deep silence, waiting for the tundra to awaken.

From further down the hall, a commotion was heard--a series of breathless 'scuse me, pardon me's that finally arrived at their door in the form of yet another stranger. Tall with the horns of an imperial, Arcane eyes, and fine sea green hair well down to his waist.

"Oh gods," he wheezed. "Is he alright?"

Every eye in the room turned on him, prickly and aggressive. "Who the hell are you?"

Perilous pushed past the strange imperial, and put her arm in front of him protectively. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. This is Floe--my grandson."

Most eyes dropped to his neck, where sure enough a collar of ice threw off its own haze, and the room relaxed slightly. Floe had insisted on staying with Hibernas out on the edges of the old territory. Hibernas was a minor deity of winter in service to the Icewarden, and similarly Floe was in service to Hibernas. It was unclear if the Arcanist simply had no power over them or if they were exempt from exile like the coven was. Either way, Floe had never come to Aphaster. So this was the first time any of them had seen how he looked when he was shifted.

"You came through the portal," Telos mused, turning the ring in her fingers. "It should have reached you that I expressly forbid passage without my approval."

Floe quickly dropped his head. "I did, and I'm sorry. But it was important! That dragon is one of Icewarden's Chosen, Renat; if Hibernas is the like Warden's eyes in the Isles, Renat is the chains. He watches over the things in the ice, in the crystalspines, sometimes even in the waters--makes sure they sleep. I must take him back!"

Hart laid a hand on Floe's shoulder, commanding his complete attention. "This Chosen Renat... He had the ring that belonged to the last of the old Dynasty."

Floe's lips pressed together, and his already near-transparent skin went even whiter. "I see."

"Fragment always had this ring. Always. It had to have been on his person when he went to exaltation." Telos' finger closed tight, creaking around the  offending item. "So I would like to know how Renat came to possess it."

"I understand. If," Floe groped for the right words. Ones that wouldn't ignite the subdued anger filling the room. "If you're worried he somehow retrieved the ring by means related to de-exaltation, I can promise you that wasn't it."

"Can you."

"I can. Chosen Renat would never dabble with the affairs of the gods. The Chosen are only allowed in the Isles because of an old pact. Something about the receding and relinquishing of the Northern Icefield. Any Chosen who profanes the Arcanist is destroyed. That is Law."

Telos stared into Floe's nervous but sincere eyes, and leaned back with a sigh. She didn't know him or Hibernas, but she knew about Law among dragons who were true servants of the Icewarden. If he said that Renat would die by Law if he blasphemed, then the mere fact that he still breathed was proof he hadn't come across the ring by foul means.

"So he just...found it? Why would he be carrying the ring around? He wasn't even wearing it."

Hart sighed. "He is a tundra as well as being a born one of Icewarden's Chosen. He probably thought it an interesting artifact and sought to preserve it."

"That's exactly what I did," came a gravelly growl.

Renat sat up in his bed with clearly foul temper undaunted by his unfamiliar and hostile company. A flash of silver runes shone cold through his fur, and his massive fangs bared themselves as he flexed his aching body.

"What were you even doing up there," Safiri hissed. "That's sacred ground."

Renat stared at her, completely unmoved. "I've noted no less than forty-four completely unaffiliated Arcanites stand where I stood to study the aether. How sacred is it?"

"What she means to say," Telos said sternly, before it boiled into a fight. "Is that a lot of bad things happened to our clan up there. And we'd like to know why and for how long you've had this ring."

"Bad things happen everywhere," Renat said flatly. "The importance you place on that particular patch of dirt has nothing to do with me. Same for that ring. I found it half-buried in the dirt a few eons ago. I preserved it in dry ice."

His eye happened on Junior. He snorted, but did not appear to bear a grudge. "With Flameforger's so close, it's been hard to keep ice magic functioning properly without melt. It was merely a bit frosty when that lad apparently found it familiar and lost his composure."

Telos immediately got out of her chair to keep Abaddon and Zo in check, but that left no one to keep the lid on Lutia.

In spite of the difference in their size, Lutia showed no fear in grabbing Renat by a tuft of his mane and yanking him down to her eye level. "You've been up there often. I can smell the ozone and the cold in your fur. And I know if you think very hard, you will recognize my scent. Big breath now--"

"Yes," she snarled as she saw recognition in his eyes. "That's exactly right, that was me. That 'lad'? What you picked up is his brother and their father's ring. He found the source of their scent, which he hasn’t experienced in seven eons, in a stranger's claws at the place he last saw them. I think he’s owed a loss of composure. So if you demean him again, I will lose my composure."

Renat shifted his jaw around. Certainly it was humbling to come face to face with the source of that excessive Arcane energy from several eons ago, but something more important ate at him.

"You..." He leaned in, his nostrils flaring invasively against her tiny shape. His eyes narrowed. "You were the one who shook the crystalspines, weren't you?"

"I haven't done any magic in the Isles recently," Lutia growled.

"He means the moving of the Seat," Floe squeaked. "As the celestine shattered, so were other things damaged. Many Outsiders have been roused or released."

Renat finally noticed Floe, and immediately rose from the bed. "You. You knew about this? This is your home clan?"

"Yes. You've been busy. You never asked myself or Hibernas for information. You haven't had the time."

"And now I find out who is responsible. Gods, your Arcanist could not have chosen a worse time to stir the Outsiders." He grabbed his hood and staff from the corner of the room and pointed Floe toward the door. "You will debrief me in full on our journey back."

"It's gonna be a lot shorter than you think; I really think you should see Hibernas."

For the first time, Renat's hackles rose. "I think my duty can be done without intruding on the little love nest you keep trying to build with your kidnapper."

Perilous gripped at her sword even as Floe went bright red with both embarrassment and anger. It was technically true that Hibernas had kidnapped Floe. But it was Floe who chose to stay even when his mothers had come to rescue him. It was Floe who loved Hibernas and insisted on staying, not the other way around. Hibernas was lacking in a dragon's common sense, but he was not cruel and he had never once prevented Floe from going home.

"Don't talk about him like that,” he muttered with quivering shoulders. “You don't know either of us."

"It's better that way."

Telos's grip on the ring tightened until veins stood out stark on her hand. "Enough. I can't detain you if you're god-chosen, but I can make your escort out of my territory very rude. Floe hasn't lived among us, but I consider him as my own. Mind your tongue, be about your business, and get the hell out of here."

Floe grabbed Renat and dragged him out, eager to be off before the situation soured even further. Perilous went after them, and could be heard hissing and cussing on her grandchild’s behalf until her voice faded out.

Telos sagged in her seat. Only a little had really happened but it all felt so jumbled. Was the business with the Outsiders something she needed to be concerned with? Renat seemed to have it under control, and it was a problem older than the Seat or any of their woes. Older than the current age for that matter.

Godsdammit. All she'd wanted was to go to the mountain top and get some things of her chest. She felt angry, but Renat had encountered the ring completely by coincidence. And relinquished it so easily. Aside from his complete disregard for others' feelings he really hadn't done anything wrong. But it all still felt wrong somehow, like she should have punished Renat. Like she should have been able to have more control over the situation that she did and his walking out was...anti-climactic. She couldn't even really let herself be happy or grateful to have a memento of her husband for how irrationally vexed she was.

Of course, she might have just been a bit high-strung given she hadn't slept in a full day now. When she finally spoke, it was with a weary finality that plainly said the loose ends of the situation would have to be dealt with another time.

"I'm going to bed.”