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shadowofahope · 11 months ago

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Love Revocation

Pairing: ImperialGuard!JungHoseok x Princess!Reader

Premise: Only your brothers would be willing to step in and try to change your future. But history isn't easy to overcome, even if it is all but forgotten.

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: I've been watching a lot of historical k-dramas and c-dramas lately, and I can say it's an addiction at this point! If you have any favourites feel free to share! I'd love to watch your recommendations as well as talk about any mutual ones we love!

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One foot infront of the other, the crisp air of the afternoon breeze through your robes and hair, the light chatter of people in the market; it all gave you a bittersweet taste of Deja vu. Times like these felt right, but you had the feeling that nothing looked as it should. It could be the small taste of freedom mixed with the claustrophobic fear being chained somewhere. However, where the other end of the chain was you didn’t know. Or you did once, but it was lost with the rest of your memories from all those years ago.

You stopped trying to remember after the first two season changes, then you accepted your circumstances and adjusted yourself to where you were.

Arms full, you smile gracefully at the passing merchants and village people, the ones bowing at you when recognization transpired. You all but skip down the back path heading towards the palace again.

You promised mother you’d finish her painting of the place father asked for her hand today. You had beeen working on it for her birthday, but you were too excited to wait. So it may have been promised 2 weeks earlier then her day.

However, a shroud voice catches your attention before you make it to the next corner. You stop in your tracks to listen. If living in the palace taught you anything it was ‘to always know the concerns of your people’, were fathers exact words. In otherwords you took it as a sign that it was ok, in most situations to eavesdrop… at least a little.

“She is being forced to marry the oldest son of the emperor and empress. Her bloodline will muddy just as theirs already is.” A sinik male voice mocked.

“What do you mean by that?” You heard your brothers fiance ask. She was a headstrong woman. Not only that but she was radiant. The type of woman your brother deserved.

“Everyone knows the young lady is unfavoured by the gods. So if you bear a child with him your children will be inflicted with the same inability.” This time a female voice chimed in. Just as distasteful as the males.

“The princess is kind, witty, social, politically intelligent, well read, impactful, understanding and unworldly beautiful. Our children will be blessed to have her as their aunt.” Tayla lists, you smile to yourself. She didn’t have to defend your honour so seriosuly, but you silently thanked her none the less.

“You have your doubts. There is no way you do not feel some worry about tarnishing your family name. Its reputation will be dragged through the land if your children fail to develope as she has. They will be cursed as she is.”

Anyone talking about your family members however, you just couldn’t let it slide so easily.

“My brothers children will develop into the strongest blood line of these past 1000 years, we are in no need of your concern.” You step in, rounding the corner of the building. Your voice and demeanour remain calm, a smile on your lips as your mother had taught you when it came to political arguments. Remaing calm when the opposing side could not, as strategy she had learned in her youth.

What others said about you didn’t really bother you anymore. As a young child you always felt the sting of their harsh words. Like they were hoping you’d choke on them. But it had the opposite affect. It only drove you to try harder, to learn the ways of the palace. To push yourself past the limits that this life had given you.

“My lady!” Many courteous greetings are followed by formal bows. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I was out for a walk through the village to get a few supplies.” Holding up the items in your hands, you sidle up to your future sister in law. Taking a step between her and the small circle of ill intended pupils.

“We didn’t mean anything by it. We were just worried she hadn’t thought it through. Or raised concerns” One of the young males spoke quickly. You stifle a scoff, but continue to maintain your composure.

“I’m sure you are.” You eye him carefully, if you weren’t mistaken he was one of the many candidates who wanted Tayla’s hand in marriage. “However as I am not my mother and fathers birth daughter, you’ll be happy to know my genes will die with me.”

“You are not the child of the Emporer and Empress?” The small crowd gasps in unison. You could laugh at how comical their faces became.

Even so, amongst the mumbling in front of you there is a faint call from behind you, you turn to her.

“Mother and Father saved me when I was young. Knowing I could not cultivate nor could remember where I had come from or how I ended up where they found me, they showed compassion and mercy upon taking me in and raising me with their children.” You explain to her alone. “I am blessed beyond measure. And your children will hold the greatest of titles. ”

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A few days had past since your unexpenctant, informal announcement of your lineage. A very important matter had taken your attention, so you had all but forgotten already. You hear frantic footsteps approach your room. You brace your mind for the inevitable impact that would be your brothers. Your hand doesn’t still as it continues to write on the parchment of your lessons from today. Your doors burst wide open, not bothering to look up at them.

“Are you really planning to take the tether serum?” Your youngest brother demands breathlessly.

“You’re here earlier then I expected, I am almost surprised.” You smile to yourself. If you had placed money on them discovering your plans, it would not have been until at least a week had past.

“Don’t make light of this.” Your eldest brother scolds from the rear, coming up behind your younger brother, closing the doors to conceal your conversation.

“Why would you make such a thing?” Taehyung's bewilderment is something you had became accustomed to. He somehow always seemed shocked by your actions. Considering how long you had been in the family now, you would have thought he had understood you at least a little.

You let out a deep sigh, the air from your lungs feels cold as it leaves your body into the warm air.

“I want to be of use to mother and father in the end. Is that so outrageous as to incur your unmistakable wrath?” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to sadden them with todays ongoings but at the same time you know Seokjin’s fiance has already informed him of the other day.

“We both understand greatly how indebted you feel towards them, but to tether your lifeline to them as someone still young is unheard of.” Seokjin reasons, still standing in the middle of the room, you can see his robes out of your peripheral. Taehyung sits down in the place next to you, trying to get your attention.

“Elder brother is right. If they both pass then so shall you, your soul cannot be separated. You shall serve them into death and upon new life.” His tone turning sorrowful.

This time you look up at him, then towards your elder.

“My dear brothers, It’s no secret that no one would marry me before and now with my birth being admitted, I have somehow lost whatever leverage I may have had.”

“That’s not true.” You see the hurt in the youngers eyes, but what you've said is true. You all know it. You give him a sad smile, letting your hand drop the brush, and placing it over his on the table.

“I cannot cultivate. I have no sense of magic or any prowess. My soul has been deemed weak and now people know that I am not the Emperor and Empress' true daughter.” You direct your smile towards Seokjin. “I have been preparing myself for this outcome since we were young. Please, if you cannot understand me then at least accept that this is your sisters wish.”

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“The last time the two of you bowed this deeply to us was when you were young children and you and our son had broken a priceless family heirloom while you were training in the halls.” The Emperors longest friend muses from his seat. Him and his wife had known your parents since they were young, they were as close as family. Including their son, who happened to be the same age as you. So all four of you had grown up together.

“Uncle. Auntie. We are here to request an inordinate favour from you. One we know may be impossible for you to agree to, but we must ask this of you.” Seokjin’s whole body is tense. Everything he can do to save you from tethering yourself is hanging on this outcome.

“What is it?” Your aunt is more curious then worried by their request. Seeing them kneel before them was a shock bigger then they had ever expected.

Your brothers sit up straight.

“Our sister. As you know she is unable to cultivate. She has no skill in combat. Many have deemed her unworthy to bear our family name.” Seokjin’s voice comes out strong, but his hands are trembling slightly. “However, as you also know. Our sister is competent in the kitchen, and with chores of the home. She is patient and nurturing when she takes care of the palaces many children. She has beautiful skills in the way of art and embroidery. She is generous beyond measure and courteous to others. She deserves to have a future.”

“We both agree. She is a diamond amongst pebbles. But what brings this tone of concern?” Uncle is concerned.

“Our sister has decided to take the tether serum and serve our parents.” Taehyung explains. “We do not know if you have heard the word circling about our sister not being of our blood. But we are here to confirm it. Our parents took her in when I was newly born, she is all I’ve known to be an older sister.”

“We are aware of the talk. We were also there the day your parents found the young lady.” The Uncle assures. “You do not need to worry about our thoughts towards the princess.”

“I am curious to this favour. What do you wish to ask for?” Auntie pushes.

“Our sister wishes to tether herself for she believes no one will marry her.” Seokjin explains. They bow again in unison, as if they had practiced their movements and speech before appearing. “We ask of you to please propose a marriage contract to the Emporer and Empress between our sister and your son.”

Taehyung cuts in quickly before they can be dismissed.“We know he is your only son, but we beg of you. She respects your son and you, uncle and auntie. There are many things she may be useful for.”

“Useful? She is enough as she is. We know that very well.” Uncle states, making eye contact with his wife. The look of understanding flashing between the two, unseen by the young princes.

“Just as we know our son. He has felt feelings of affection for the young lady for quite some time. You might not know this but she was the reason he decided he wanted to join the guard.” The older woman conceals her giggle behind her hand. “I had never seen such a rambunctious boy turn so serious.”

“He knew?” They both shoot up in surprise. Their friend had never mentioned having any knowledge of your sisters situation. But then again, they had never spoken of this either.

“Yes. Our son was adamant that he would protect the princess. We could not sway his mind. Though we did not try to. We have never looked down on her because of her situation. She has become a well rounded beautiful woman, our son would be blessed to take her as his wife.” The Lord nods,

“Does that mean you will agree?” They feel giddy. They could save you.

The older couple share a fond smile.

“There is something our son has been drawn to since he was a young boy. We believe your sister is the key to his happiness.”

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“Hoseok, what are you doing here?” You beam, controlling your feet to not skip your way over to him. A lady never skips…at least not in front of others.

“Princess” He greets you with a bow and warm smile as he always does. “I was summoned by the Emperor and Empress. Why have you come?”

“I was requested by Uncle and Auntie to meet them here.” You explain. “What is going on? Do you think its about Mothers birthday feast tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, but we should not keep them waiting. Let us go in.” He opens the doors and waits for you to enter first.

You hurry in, smiles directed at your parents then your uncle and aunt.

A large round table adorned with vast plates of food, both your fathers sat near the far end laughing and chatting away, raising a drink to eachother. Your mothers seated next to their husbands also tremendously cheerful.

You share a quick glance before bowing.

“Emperor. Empress.” He greets first.

“Uncle. Auntie.” You greet directly after.

“Children! Come in! Have a seat.” You father cheers happily. Your aunt waves a hand over to you for you to sit next to her.

You bound over to sit next to your aunt. Which just so happens to be next to Hoseok as well.

“We are celebrating this evening.” Your mother informs, her attention on him.

“What are we celebrating Empress?” Formality laced in his words. It made you smile, even if he was like another son to your parents he highly respected them.

“Lord and Lady Jung, have come to us with a proposal contract and we have agreed.” The Emporer boisterously exclaims.

“I’m sorry, Father and Mother I fear I do not comprehend.” You express, eye brows coming to meet in a frown.

You see a flash of something cross Hoseoks face, but you stay focused on your looking between your parents.

Your Aunt grabs both your hands, placing them in the space between you and forcing you to face her.

“The Emporer and emperess have accepted our proposal for our son and you to be wed.” She cheers brightly, hands giving yours a light squeeze.

“I’m to marry-?” You look back at him. Scared to see panic or disgust or even rage on his dazzling features. But there isn’t any sign of darkening. Only red tinted ears give away any emotions he’s feeling. That in itself leaves you astonished adn shaken.

Words of wedding ceremonies are abrupt in your ears. The pattern of the bedding for your marriage suite.

“But, Uncle, auntie. I’m not worthy of marrying your son.” You say it like it is a definite fact, interrupting their excited remarks.

“Nonsense!” Your father bellows, a bright smile never leaving his face, he places his arm around his long term friend, who shares an equally blinding smile. “You two shall be wed! It is a beautiful idea, one I wish we had thought of sooner.”

The laughter from the elders erupts once again, leaving you shell shocked. Remaining quiet you can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, opting to stare at the oak table in front of you. How did these events happen? You had just made the choice to…

A sinking feeling hits you all at once. Your brothers. They were the only ones that knew of your plans, other then the physician you had asked the tether serum about. They would be the ones to try to stop you.

You’d deal with them after this dinner. You’d confront them and talk to Hoseok about his rejecting the marriage proposal.

You just had to sit nicely until then.

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“What did you do?!” You stormed into the study room the next day, you knew your brothers had hidden themselves away. They always resided in the same place to try to escape you when they had done something they knew you would be unhappy with. You had been followed by Hoseok on your way there when you mentioned you were confronting your brothers, upon meeting him that morning.

“Sister. This is a study room. Please refrain from raising your voice.” Your oldest mock scolding you, book in hand.

“Then answer me. I know it was the two of you that have provoked the marriage idea.” You were pulling back your seething temper, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“Princess~” Hoseok calls calmly from behind you. You could feel him close behind you, not touching but close enough that you felt like you could breathe.

“What all of our parents decide to do we do not hold any influence over. You know as well as anyone.” Seokjin scoffs. The audacity he had to play ignorant at this moment was appalling.

“We may have brought up the idea of a union.” Taehyung supplies from the far end of the room.

“Why would you do this?” Exasperation seeps out of you. There was no point in hiding your displeasure or annoyance at these two. “You know I wish to be tethered.”

“Tethered?” Hoseok speaks again. “Who were you to be tethered to?”

“Mother and Father.” You state, angry eyes set on your brothers, but also not wishing to elaborate. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out. You were all childhood friends, you wanted to tell him yourself when he had time away from his duties in the guard.

“She believes no one shall love her because she is unable to cultivate. She believes she is not worth dotting on.” Your elder brother chimes in, closing his book and sauntering over to you. “But that’s not true. Is it Hoseok?“

“No. It’s not.” Your childhood friends voice is stern, you had never heard it like this before, at least not targeted at you. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Is this why you wanted me to talk my parents out of this marriage?”

“I wanted to be tethered to mother and father because I wish to serve them for eternity.” Your jaw tense. Your core feeling as it had turned into stone.

“Look at me.” You have never heard his voice so cold and low, not even when he was at work. Something in you makes it impossible to deny him, so you do as he orders. You can see the fire behind his eyes, before your allow the flames to consume you you look towards the chilled marble ground. You hear muffled voices of your brother behind you but you can’t react. You feel warm fingers gently push your chin up ever so gently, forcing you to make eye contact. “Princess. Y/n. Is that really why?”

Your voice catches in your throat. A cough threatening to scratch its way out of you. “I am not like others. I cannot contribute to a high class home as I should. I’m…. broken.”

You had never felt so weak as you did in that moment, not since the days yo uhad been found. You could never lie to him. Not once.

He studies your face, searching for something. “Is it the worst to be betrothed to me?”

“What?” His question catches you off guard. You blink at him in confusion. Of course, you knew he would be angry at your decision, or at the very least angry with you for not trusting in him to discuss it.

“I can understand if you wish not to be wed to me because you do not think I’m adequate.” His voice soft like the look in his eyes. Soothing your anger towards your brothers in a instant, your only focus on him and the sad smile on his lips.

“That is ridiculous. I would not want it to be promised to any one else in this entire kingdom.” Why do you feel breathless?

“Good.” His hand slips away from your skin. For a mere second, you miss the contact before realizing what you said. Your face burns with embarrassment, your eyes scrunching closed at how idiotic you sounded to yourself. Had you lost your mind? “Then I will discuss with our parents for the ceremony to be held as soon as possible.”

The shock brings you back out of your inner reprimanding. But before you can formulate words he’s bowing to your brothers and then you and he’s gone.

“W-what just happened?” Your mind struggles to catch up.

Hearing your brothers snicker at you doesn’t’ help, you’re still frozen in place. Frozen staring at the now closed doors that Hoseok, your childhood friend, had left through.

Seokjins full laugh fills the room. “Looks like you’ll be a little bride faster than I will be a groom.”

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scary-movies-on-netflix · 20 days ago

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A CANDLE FOR THE DEVIL / IT HAPPENED AT NIGHTMARE INN (1973)

Marta and Veronica are two middle-aged sisters who run una pension (guesthouse) in rural Spain, called “Las Dos Hermanas.” A museum has recently opened in the village, and Marta bemoans the horde of tourists visiting the town. Naturlich, they begin to kill women.

May: The sisters hear a commotion above them and rush upstairs to see one of their guests, May, sunbathing on a terrace! Neighboring men are hooting at her. Marta calls May a “shameless hussy” and states “this isn’t a whorehouse!” May is indignant. May and Marta tussle, and May topples down the stairs and into a stained glass window, breaking it. Presumably, some glass severs a vital artery, for she is now dead. Veronica wants to call the police, but Marta says of May’s death, “It was Providence, a divine punishment.” She continues, “She killed herself. She has been killed by God. We were his hand of justice.” She convinces Veronica not to tell anyone.

Laura: This is May’s sister. She arrives just after May is killed and checks into the pensione. The sisters tell her that May just left. Laura asks various people in the village about May.

Helen: A Dutch woman arrives in short shorts and dares to wear a miniskirt and ride a donkey. One night, she returns to the guesthouse after hours. Marta opens the door for her and Helen, drunk, begins to rip off Marta’s clothes! “Let me see it,” she says. “Let me see it. I won’t tell anyone.” Martha takes a knife from the kitchen table and stabs her to death. Veronica comes down to help. Marta then stalk up to Laura’s room, to kill her, too! Veronica stops her.

Norma: A young American woman, traveling alone with a baby, tells her sisters that her husband couldn’t come and checks into the guesthouse. Laura argues with the sisters and checks out. She talks to the village mayor about her concerns about the missing women, and the mayor explains that Dona Marta was once engaged, but her fiancé ran off with another woman. Anyway, Norma goes shopping and makes some comments that lead the village women to question whether she’s married at all, and this rumor makes its way back to the sisters! That night, Norma goes to talk to Laura, who conveys her fears about the sisters. Meanwhile, the sisters are doting over the baby. Norma returns and finds the sisters with the baby in the kitchen. Marta accuses Norma of abandoning the baby to “walk the streets at night!” Marta and Norma fight, and Norma slaps the shit out of her and reaches for the baby, but then Marta stabs her to death! Veronica puts the baby on a bed (and we never hear from it again) and then goes through Norma’s belongings. She finds a letter, from her estranged husband!

For the finale, Laura breaks into the guesthouse at night to investigate. She finds the cellar and investigates two huge vats full of wine, but she has to flee before checking out the third huge vat. The next night, during dinner at the guesthouse, a woman falls ill. Her husband sees something on the plate and scoops it up before anyone else can see. He shows a doctor, and it is a human eye! The police are summoned. Laura, meanwhile, checks back into the pensione with another man pretending to be her husband. Also, a mob has formed up and heads toward the guesthouse. Anyway, Laura’s guy friend sneaks to the cellar to see the third vat, stirs up the contents, and a woman’s head appears! Then Marta stabs him in the back! Laura goes to look for the dude, but the sisters capture her. Laura tries to run away, but she is trapped in the house! They finally corner her against the window, just as the mob arrives. Marta, Veronica, and Laura look out the window at the people.

This was…surprisingly good, much better than I expected! The film’s premise was, yes, ridiculous, but it was actually well done. The plot was tightly paced, with few extraneous scenes or wasted conversations. The acting was solid, even considering the dubbing. Marta became caught up in a religious fervor, shaped by her past abandonment by her fiancée. Veronica allowed herself to be dominated by her sister. The various victims were sympathetic, for the most part, and their deaths were well-done, with “weight” behind them. There is a strong element of sexual titillation to this movie; the deaths are clearly tied to the various women’s sexuality, and there is gratuitous nudity (of both sexes). Even so, this movie should be better known.

(Note: there are various cuts of this movie available online. The 73 minute version currently on Tubi is a poor copy, with many scenes cut. I suggest finding the 86 minute version instead.)

#a candle for the devil #it happened at nightmare inn #movie review #horror movies #1973 #good #spanish #spanish horror

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

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Injury II

Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,650

Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.

This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much.

I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!

Kaeya

Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.

Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.

You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”

The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.

“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”

“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.

“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”

“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”

The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”

“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.

“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.

It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.

Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.

Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.

Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.

“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.

Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.

The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.

Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.

Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.

“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”

“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.

“Were you afraid?” You asked.

“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”

“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.

Ningguang

If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.

It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.

A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.

She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?

Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?

You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…

Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.

“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.

“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”

“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”

Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.

“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.

“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”

“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”

“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”

Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.

“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”

“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.

Xiao

By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.

Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?

When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.

What a fool he’d been.

Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.

Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.

At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.

Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.

Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.

Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.

In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.

“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.

“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”

“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”

“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.

You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.

“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”

“What?”

“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.

Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.

“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.

Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.

And that was the love he held for you.

Zhongli

If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.

One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.

But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.

He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.

The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.

You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.

How fragile humans are.

The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.

Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.

Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.

“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”

“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”

“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.

“We are because we must be.”

Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.

Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.

That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.

#my computer's about to die but this was totally worth it #also I never want to learn that much about burns again oof #tonight was wild #also I love ningguang so much aaa #kaeya #ningguang #xiao #zhongli #kaeya x reader #ningguang x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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spice-chan · 4 years ago

Note

Yandere incubus bakugou please? But the reader is a bad a** nun exorcist?

Heavenly

Incubus!Bakugou x nun!reader

Warnings: yandere themes, religious imagery, dub/noncon, somnophilia, praise kink, incubus bakugo, nsfw.

Wordcount: 2 K

You were new in the field, but nevertheless, the best. You approached your work with certain fierceness that bordered on unprofessional, unethical, given your field.

You were a nun, an exorcist meant to banish creatures like Bakugo Katsuki, unholy, sinful creatures like him.

Ones who bathed in wrong doings, encouraged misbehaviours, got off and energised at the feel of being the cause of someone sinning.

Bakugo watched you, clad in white attire and bright eyes that seemed so honest, so pure, that they seemed almost translucent. Katsuki doesn’t belong in heaven, but he thinks it must look something like your eyes.

A creature like him shouldn’t hover in a place like this. A creature so devilish isn’t welcomed in God’s abode, isn’t worthy of staring at crucifixes, nor worthy of salvation. But most importantly, what right does a wretched being like him have to stare reverently at a blessed being like you.

Though, the both of you have some things in common, he mused. You were so fiery, that some of your elders seemed stiff at the sight of you, though what sort of stiff is ambiguous. You were so ambitious, rising up the ranks so quickly, his good girl.

Fuck, how did he grow so enamored with you? The only reason he can even enter the premises of your church is because he hasn’t come of age yet, hasn’t reached his full potential as an incubus, but a few days from now, he will take his first victim.

He will lay with someone, take them and become the creature of lust that he was meant to be, become the tainted person you preach against. He wishes it could be you, wishes he can take you and break your vows, give you a taste of the sweetness of the apple, get you addicted to the taste of debauchery, wishes he can taste your sweetness.

You had so much restraint, on lonely nights where you rubbed your thighs in need, slick starting to dampen your panties, Katsuki watching in anticipation, wondering whether today will be the day you please yourself painfully unaware of your audience. Leaving him with raging hopes that today will be the day you will be pliant enough to be taken by him but no, no, you just took a deep breath and opted for a cold shower, leaving him with a raging hard on that he had no choice but to stroke to your sleeping form.

You were so fragile too, like glass that he felt protective over, despite how foreign that feeling is to him, yet wanting to shatter you all the same, wanting to cage you with his wings, get you addicted to the delightful feeling he can induce between your thighs while your throat goes raw from moans and screams of his name.

He stalked you religiously, memorised you like the pope memorised the bible, his form which is invisible to you hovered around you like a lost puppy, drinking in all your expressions like ambrosia, his mouth overflowing with saliva at the sweet nectar you kept offering and offering to the point where he’s gotten too addicted to stop.

He glowered at every male that interacts with you, and if the wrong scent emanates from them, something to slightly suggest attraction, you can bet they greet death too early, the cause being a mystery. He enjoys mangling them all night long, only to put them back together and repeat the process. No one stares at his human like she’s theirs, when she's so woefully his. Although she doesn’t know it yet.

But his coming of age ceremony grows closer and closer, and Katsuki won’t be able to enter your premises anymore, his awakening means he also won’t be able to take you for that very ceremony, and perhaps never.

So, Bakugo started thinking smart. Using his influence, he gathered the most intense, the most powerful demons and made them inhibit people from a nearby village. A case severe enough that you’d have to leave in aid of those people. And stay for a few days.

Painfully predictable, you did just that. Donning your outfit and leaving swiftly. Not knowing what dark fate awaits you.

…………

Bakugou stood at the corner of the inn room you are staying in. You were so exhausted, you passed out as soon as you hit the mattress. Now, without the protective walls shielding you from him, your soft body will be all pliant for him. His body shook, the changes to it happening too rapidly. His wings are growing larger, bolder, and aside of the external changes, his scent was becoming more soft, relaxing, his body emitting pheromones that could easily induce lust. His saliva and touch will have a multiplied effect now that he’s reached his peak form. All that’s left now is to make love to a human, to make love to you.

He stepped closer to you, the room looking darker with each step he took, and your form appearing more and more defenceless to the enamored incubus before you.

He slowly took the blanket off you, admiring the slopes of your body in the form fitting night dress that you only adorned in the comfort of your room. He covered your body with his large one, covering you and his heat acting as a blanket, shielding you from the nipping cold. He took your sprawled arms, slowly putting them over your head and holding them in place with one hand while his other lowered the strap on your dress, freeing one breast to caress while his mouth pressed a feather light kiss over your own, so tender it was akin to a lover's touch.

You stirred in your sleep, his touch having the desired effect as you remained in slumber… his sleeping beauty. He kept kissing his way down, like a mad deprived of water for weeks finally getting to quench his thirst.

His wings lowered, shielding you from the moon light as he laved you up in his saliva, exposing your tits only to lay kisses on them before sucking harshly, pulling, tugging until they pebbled up. He squeezed the warm flesh, marvelling at the baby soft skin and its texture in his calloused palm.

Heh, if you were awake, you’d freak out so bad. Katsuki didn’t stop, he continued his journey downwards, kissing over every inch until he reached the heaven between your thighs.

He can smell it, God, he can smell the arousal coating your plain white panties. He moved his apart, movements stilling in the face of your womanhood, suddenly blushing and feeling nervousness enter his stream. He swallowed, pink tongue poking out of his tongue slowly and drawing a path from your slit to your clit. Feeling satisfied at your muscles spasming. He got cocky real quick after that, not even attempting to conceal the raunchy sounds of his mouth wrapping around your clit and eating it as if drinking from a straw.

You were the sweetest delicacy he’d ever tasted, and he’d be damned if he ever lets go of you.

His finger slipped inside you, feeling your walls sucking it in, tightness befitting of a nun. A second finger joined, your walls happily sucking it in and coating his fingers in slick. They moved in and out, thick fingers hitting sensitive spots and stretching you out in preparation for something bigger.

His hips were rutting into the bed, trying to alleviate the ache while his tongue goes for a final taste, the slickened muscle burying itself inside you and moaning. The room was filled with slurping sounds, tiny moans from your sleeping figure and his hips rutting into your mattress; anyone who stood outside your door for a second longer than necessary can tell what’s happening in the nun's room.

He can’t take this anymore. You were here now, pliant for the taking and he was going to take you. He’s going to take you in many many ways.

He freed his manhood, but before he can bury himself in you, he had to do something. He pulled out a shiny object, pulling your hand and slipping it into your finger. Now, the fun can begin.

He lined himself with your begging hole, desperate for something to fill it up after it was so delightfully full, after having its owner deprive it for so long.

With a moan, he quickly bottomed out, eyes watering at the pleasure, having to hold himself back from cumming on the spot as he groaned. Your greedy walls drank him in, welcoming him warmly as if he’s a soldier returning from war, as if hellfire wasn’t hot enough.

He put one of your legs above his shoulder, silently questioning whether he should go at the pace he’s going to, whether he should take you gently the way your body should be taken after years of abstinence. But one clench of your walls and the decision was made for him.

He started pistoning into you mercilessly, his gifted length not sparing you in the slightest. He was so loud too, moaning at the feeling of being one with you, slobbering like a dog as he pounded you, his tip reaching and massaging places you probably didn’t even know existed. Really, with how loud he was, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you woke up.

You squealed, in pleasure or repulsion, trying to push him away, however the pleasurable sheen in your eyes was unmissable to the avatar of lust.

“Ah—who are y-you?! You devil!” You kept stuttering, words breaking as he forcefully pounded the pleasure into you.

“Don’t ask if you already know, princess.” He pumped more pheromones in the air, successfully making you more docile as you gripped his humongous biceps, hands not even close to wrapping around the circumference of it, moaning and clenching around his member.

“Good girl.” He smirked as his statement made you clench even more, so his princess likes being praised.

Your moans were raw and throaty, as if unused to letting out such sinful and suggestive sounds, as if unwilling but painfully desperate to.

“But, if you’re so desperate to know, look at your hand.”

Your eyes glanced up, hazily making out a golden band resting on your ring finger. It had a red amber on it, its colour so red it was darker and bolder then the liquid spilled in a blood oath, it signified something that your foggy brain just couldn’t make out.

“Hmm, already fucked you silly?”

You grumbled something out, a protest too low to be considered a threat. His hand reached out and started rubbing circles on your button, causing an adorable mewl to leave your lips. His thumb kept up the movement until he felt your overly sensitive walls choking his length, gripping him so hard that his fucking falters. You really hadn’t touched yourself in a long time huh.

Some of the spit gathered in his mouth escaped, coating you as his tongue left his mouth lewdly, cheeks flushed an apple red while his eyes watered at the weight of doings. He pounded you so hard after that he reached ecstasy in a minute, not holding the handles on his pleasure any longer, only relishing in the intimate moment as he reached heaven with you. His movements were so passionate, it was as if he was seeking salvation for his very existence in your body.

He pulled out with a grunt, heart panging at the look in your eyes. You stared in horror at the white gushing out of you, so far from pure or holy, it was thick like the sin you allowed yourself to indulge in.

Tears soaked up your face, unable to believe that you of all people got taken by this god forsaken creature, by this tempting creature that symbolizes sin itself. His fingers had the audacity to reach for your face, trying to wipe away the tears he caused. Your hand went to harahly swat his before a red glint caught your eye, your gut sinking at the implication. You swiftly went to remove it, but the harder you tried the more it seemed to cling to your finger.

“What’s this?!” He rolled his eyes at you, before pointing at the ring in your ring finger.

“This-“ his intense, bloody gaze shifted to you”-this will make sure that wherever you go, I will be able to follow you, that we will belong to each other for eternity, because I, the incubus prince Katsuki Bakugou chose you as my mate, and there’s no way out if that.”

#incubus #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou #yandere bakugou #bnha imagines #tw: noncon #tw dubcon #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bnha #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou

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witchyintention · 4 years ago

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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕗𝕥?

As of late many have found themselves taking steps into the wondrous world of witchcraft. However it is a lot more than just an aesthetic. It is a lifestyle that is both beautiful and dangerous when you don't know what you're doing. Witchy Intention is to help guide you in your craft and teach you through my experiences and research. Along with many other experienced witches through interviews.

When you hear someone say witchcraft you instantly jump to satanic or devil worship but truth be told it's not. Satan is a figure in Christianity and has absolutely nothing to do with witchcraft. So what is witchcraft you ask. Witchcraft is an earth based religion or practice, and has been practiced in almost all the societies and cultures across the world. Though each craft is different according to local beliefs and traditions.

According to scholars of witchcraft, it was a belief system whose origin predates the majority of well known religions. It dates back so far many do not know the exact date, but we have seen it in many cultures such as ancient Egyptians. It also has been evolving since then and its present form is quite different from what it was thousands of years ago. And different areas practiced it differently. Even today from person to person and Coven to Coven it is practice differently. To each their own. It's a unique experience in itself.

In the ancient times, Witchcraft was known as ‘craft of the wise’ as the wise persons were those who followed the path of nature and were in tune with its forces, had the knowledge of herbs and medicines, gave wise counsel and were held in high esteem as Shamanic healers and leaders in the village and community. They understood that nature was superior to human beings and that human beings were simply one of the many parts of nature, both seen and unseen that combine to form one whole. As Chief Seattle said, “We do not own the earth; we are a part of it.” They understood that what we take from nature or use, we must return in kind to maintain the balance and equilibrium. The modern man has, however, forgotten this and has paid the price in the form of many ecological and environmental disasters.

Unfortunately for the past several hundred years the image of the witch has been associated with the evil, heathenism and unrighteousness due to prejudices created by the Christian church. Somewhere along the line Christians accused the Pagan Horned god as the devil because these pagans didn't believe in the same god as them. So what does some Christian of high power do? Calls it devil worship. Despite the fact the bible never tells us what Lucifer looks like upon going to hell.

However, as of late people have started understanding and practicing witchcraft as the true religion of God and Nature. There is renewed interest in witchcraft and witches profess to believe and practice the craft with a sense of pride and confidence. The believers in the New Age movement have understood witchcraft in its true perspective.

Modern witchcraft attracts believers from all walks of life and positions in society all over the world. They come together to understand the life, nature, evolution and mysteries of the universe through witchcraft. Witchcraft is the most democratic religion and practices in the world. There is no rigid dogma and no hard-line regime except for a simple premise that we should not do evil and if we do, know it will come back in multiple. Though not all witches bide by this but many of us do. Secondly, we should not misuse the generosity of nature by disturbing its balance. This is certainly something we all bide by.

There are many forms of witchcraft like I had said earlier it differs from person to person. I will have a separate episode going into the top most popular kinds of witches but for now let's just explain a few things. A lot of other belief systems have set rules of what is good and what is bad, think the ten commandments, or Orthodox Jews are not allowed to use anything mechanical on the Sabbath, or Muslims are only allowed to eat certain parts of the animal. Witchcraft isn't like that. It's more about the big picture and how our actions contribute to that big picture.

I would also like to clarify that being a witch doesn't mean your Wiccan or even pagan. You can very much still be Christian and practice the craft. Remember I said witchcraft was all about the mother earth along with whatever god or gods you worship. This includes the Christian god. I personally know a few Christian witches.

However note that if you are a Christian witch you will be working with only that god. If you plan to work with other gods perhaps you need to rethink your religion's standpoint. "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me" is one of the Ten Commandments found in the Hebrew Bible at Exodus 20:2 and Deuteronomy 5:6. With that said the craft is something unique and interesting but be careful because it is real and it can be dangerous.

When new witches find themselves wanting to get into the craft but they really have no idea where to start. Try the history. There is a lot more history than I could even hope to cover in a single session. This is nothing more than an introduction to it. When you are learning about its history you will find many different kinds of practices.

Though it's perfectly fine to be drawn to a practice and wanting to do it. Make sure you first do research on whether the practice is a closed or open practice. Closed practices are closed for a reason and most times you have to have approval to practice it and be sworn in. So if you find yourself wanting to do a closed practice make sure you do the research on how you can do it and do go through the proper procedures.

Some might not let you in at all. For example Voodoo. Voodoo is one of the ones you work with your ancestors, an African folk magic. Those gods (spiritual beings? I really don't know.) are not going to be very accepting of one who is of European descent because your ancestors did their ancestors wrong.

If you are considering the craft, know this, you will spend your whole life learning about the craft. Even the most seasoned of witches are constantly learning. The craft in a sense is like a hypothesis. You will constantly be learning, writing down your findings, doing this and that, to see if it works and figuring things out as you go. But before you even think about getting a head of yourself you need to do lots of research. Don't think 'oh I read a book I can now do a spell'. Witches read a lot. Even if we have already read something on a topic we will keep on. Cross reference everything you read. There is plenty of false information. Especially on the internet, but there are some good sources too.

You need tons of training and maybe even guidance from established witches before you cast your first spell. However we know full well that you learn by doing. So go for it but start with small simple spells. Note that writing a spell or doing a spell does not require a coven, animal bones, and full moon, as fun as nights involving these can be. In fact many witches don't have covens and many do not use animal bones.

Sometimes it’s not about forming the biggest circle under a full moon, but just having a good time with other witches. Or even yourself if you prefer to do Magic solo. It's fine and very much acceptable. But coven or not it's always fun to do with friends. Nothing's like dancing around a bonfire with your best friends.

Practicing can get expensive. I mean you're going to spend a lot of money on books. Though the internet had everything you could possibly need, nothing beats a good book on witchcraft. I mean who doesn't want a bookshelf full of witchcraft research. Then the actual items you'll need will cost you. Even if it's not aesthetically pleasing. People tend to go a cheaper route using things for the dollar store or reusing sauce jars. Which is good but you will still spend a pretty penny because you'll constantly be getting new ones. Jars break, candles melt, herbs are all used up and crystals can and will break. And no your practice might not always be aesthetically pleasing or photo worthy at all time. Truth be told it can be a bit messy, kinda like arts and crafts. Then again witchcraft is both an art and a craft so it makes sense.

Not all witches are female. Whether you are male, nonbinary, trans, genderless, or anything in between, you can be a witch. It's true that there is a beautiful history of women and witchcraft but magick is genderless. Magik does not care about your gender, sexuality, or religious beliefs. Magik is also not good nor evil, it all depends on how the protactioner is using it.

Popular belief also tells that you have to be born into a witch family or your ancestors have to be a witch for you to be one. That's not true. I have said it once and I have said it twice. Anyone can be a witch.

Hexes, they are real. Sorry if this scares you, but hexes, cast to inflict misfortune on others, are indeed real. Some witches but not all believe Magic used with ill intent will come back three times on the caster. Some call this The Rule of Three some call it karma. Either way just know it will come back to you some way or another, even if it's by a return to sender spell.

One of the mean teachings of witchcraft by most forms is what you put into the universe is what you get out of it. If you put positivity into the world you'll get positivity back. The same could be said about negativity. But then someone will say 'Oh I have been putting positivity in the world and nothings happening.' If that's the case the negativity you've been put into the world prior to it is still trying to catch up to you. So keep up the positivity even if it's hard.

You don't have to wear all black. There isn’t a standard dress code for witches, and while it’s absolutely acceptable to wear black from head to toe, there are just as many witches who prefer a sundress and sandals as there are who like black fishnets and velvet.

Black cats are not needed either. Though there is nothing wrong with having a black cat and being a witch. Both have been misunderstood for their supposed evil intentions and connections to dark magic for centries.

Remember real magic isn't some Harry Potter mumbo jumbo either. Though let's face it, we can all still pretend that's what it's like. I do. I know the difference between real magic and what the church and Entertainment make it out to be. But I still enjoy the fiction as much as the real. But we do use wands. Though not all of us do and if anything it's to help control where our magic goes to say.

Black, Grey, White, Evil or Good Magic are terms I personally do not use. Some people use these terms, but they probably shouldn't. To start, they have racist undertones. Rituals that are mistakenly believed to be bad are labeled black magic often come from traditions such as Hoodoo, which is traditional African folk magic, that is also a closed practice. Another thing I have said before is that Magic and Witchcraft alike are not good or bad, it's all on how the protationer uses it. I personally tend to stay away from these labels simply because I do not like the negative feeling given and the story behind them. But that is just me, I would hope many follow in those footsteps but not all are going to. I fully understand that.

✩ Don't Steal Other Peoples Work ✩

Written:

May 24, 2020

By:

Reine Alicis

#real magic #grimoire #sigils #sigil magic #witches of tumblr #real witchcraft #triple moon #prophecy #celtic #greek patroness #witch blog #witchcraft blog #high priestess #witch community #witchcraft 101 #witchcraft info

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thenovelartist · 5 years ago

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His Greatest Gift - MLQC AU Headcanon

I was inspired by the “Double Seventh Time Travel” cards (and some other stories I’ve read.) After sitting on this for well over a month, I finally finished it.

Premise: The boys are given a gift; they just don’t expect that gift to be a person.

Gavin

For his acts of bravery on the battlefield, Gavin was promoted in his rank as well as endowed with a gift.

He insisted it was not necessary; Gavin never had need for material objects unless they assisted him in completing his mission.

However, he was told by his lord that it would be in his bedchamber come evening.

Gavin didn’t know what sort of gift to expect, but a girl sitting on the edge of his bed was definitely one possibility he never thought of.

People aren’t gifts, after all. They aren’t meant to be traded like some material object.

So, he sent the woman away.

However, what surprised him was her thankfulness of his action.

It was clear she hadn’t a choice in the matter. Which pissed him off even more.

When he told his lord that he could not accept a human as a gift but that no other gifts were necessary, his lord said he understood.

“Then I suppose I’ll take her as mine.”

Gavin quickly retracted his words, which only pleased his lord. It was clearly a purposeful trick, but Gavin wasn’t about to let her be taken advantage of, either.

He soon learned that she had been orphaned, her father having passed on before paying off a debt to their lord, meaning she was at his service until she paid it off.

Gavin didn’t want his lord to take further advantage of her, so she became a servant-slash-attendant to him of sorts.

He didn’t have a large dwelling, but she kept it clean as well as cooked for him when he was home off the battlefield.

And she sang.

It was accident he found that out, but the moment he heard her mellifluous voice ring through the air of his home, he knew he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

So while he didn’t ask for much of her—their agreement consisted of he gave her protection and a place to live while she kept his house and cooked so he wouldn’t have to (her cooking skills far outranked his, anyway)—he did shyly ask for her to sing more frequently.

And she happily complied.

He’d actually fallen asleep to her voice many times. It soothed and comforted him, particularly after a long day.

Her smile had a similar affect, he soon realized. The burdens of his heart would ease at the sight of her smile.

He didn’t quite understand it; the only other person who could accomplish that was his late mother.

No one other than his mother had cared for him beyond caring how useful of a pawn he could be.

But now, MC was the exception.

The amount she fussed when he came home with scars or bruises made him feel valued.

It also made his little heart go “pitter patter.”

He never thought that he would dread going out to battles or skirmishes. He just didn’t want to leave her.

But, the boy is dense and didn’t realize what that feeling was for months.

However, when he gets it, he doesn’t waste much time. (He does not count time spent weighing the potential negative effects of admitting to the woman who worked for him that he had feelings for her as ‘wasting time’.)

Any fears of his confession putting her in an awkward or uncomfortable position vanished the instant she admitted she’d also grown feelings for him.

Que walks together, shopping trips where he carried the purchases, or horseback rides where he carried her all around the territory.

But Gavin’s favorite thing was to spend any warm afternoon together in a field outside the city, where there was only the two of them resting in the golden fields that waved in the breeze. Sometimes they talked, sometimes one or both of them took a nap. It didn’t matter to Gavin.

With things going so well, it was only a matter of time before he married her.

Occasionally, he did think about how she had originally been a ‘gift’ to him, only for the purpose of warming is bed and entertaining him. How ironic that she’d become the greatest gift he’d ever received.

Kiro

He was a prince visiting a newly conquered territory.

He did hate the chaos and bloodshed of war, but he thought the cost worth it to liberate an oppressed territory.

And the people seemed to be thankful to be free of their ruthless dictator.

To show their thankfulness, they said they had prepared a gift for him.

Though he assured them it wasn’t necessary, he loved gifts and was always happy to accept.

However, he was less pleased to see that gift was a woman: the daughter of some noble family.

“She’s the finest lady in the land, your highness. For your harem.”

Except… he didn’t have a harem. And wasn’t looking to start one.

However, Savin, his advisor, accepted on the prince’s behalf.

He said something about ‘politics’ that basically meant ‘we’ll take her as a political tool.’

Kiro was not fond of it, but knew there wasn’t much that could be done.

So, he decided the only thing he could do was treat MC as well as he could.

However, she was not informed of his plan, nor was anyone else.

Which lead to MC ending up in his bedchambers that evening.

While…not where he wanted to have a conversation, he assured MC that he had no intention of using her in such a manner.

That resolve was fortified when he saw relieved tears come to her eyes.

He hated tears, so he did his best to cheer her back up and, thankfully, succeeded.

Later, she confessed to him that she’d been picked not because she was the prettiest girl in the land (her words, that Kiro strongly disagreed with; she was truly beautiful) but because her family was among the poorer of nobles, and she was not able to find a good match in time to avoid being given to the prince as a concubine.

Kiro was not happy to hear such a thing. Apparently, the nobles of this territory still needed close monitoring.

When they got back to his castle after leaving the one he’d acquired with the territory, Kiro was sure to treat her well, as well as ensuring that everything was up to her standards.

He had the ability to give her anything she wanted, but he soon discovered that material goods didn’t fascinate her as much as his kingdom itself.

So, Kiro designated a whole day to take her on a full tour of his castle and the city.

And seeing her eyes light up with wonder at their adventure was all that it took to get Kiro addicted to her smile.

From then on, he took her on any adventure he could think of. The pond behind the castle for a picnic? The kitchen for sweets? The town to escape Savin? They’ve been on all of them.

Kiro lives for these adventures. They seem to be better with her.

Her smile, her laughter, her expression of awe and wonderment… they did things to Kiro’s heart.

He’d do anything to get those little gifts from her.

Savin only gets mad when Kiro ditches his work for those adventures, which… is often.

As frustrating as it is, Savin is a little pleased to see Kiro so happy with a woman. It meant an heir might come sooner rather than later.

And when Savin voiced as such to Kiro, Kiro… couldn’t deny it.

He’d taken quite a liking to her. Her smile and laughter, how willing she was to go on adventures with him or just spend a quiet afternoon together. Don’t get him wrong, he loved it all, but it just didn’t seem like enough anymore.

The possibility of more… of taking her as his wife and having a family with her…

That was the end of Kiro’s heart. It had been stolen by a very beautiful thief.

So, with a new determination, he confessed.

His heart soared when she confessed back.

They didn’t date longer than a week before they started making plans for a wedding.

There really was no point in waiting any longer than that. Not when Kiro knew he wanted her to be his princess.

He wanted to bet that all the ladies back in from her territory were jealous now.

Though, to be fair, he didn’t realize just how precious of a gift she’d be to him back then, either. But he swore to never, ever take that for granted again.

Victor

As Emperor of his region, he knew marriage would be inevitable. He had an obligation to produce an heir.

He had plenty of women throwing themselves at him, practically begging for his attention.

And he found all of them severely lacking.

It exasperated Goldman, his right hand man.

At this point, the emperor’s court decided that it no longer mattered her status, if the emperor showed even the slightest interest in a woman, even if that was just the hint he didn’t hate her, they would make her his bride immediately.

So, a poor, unsuspecting MC arrived at the castle with a plea for her village for the emperor.

And her stubbornness, passion, and determination caught his attention.

Goldman about fainted when Victor smiled at her and answered that he would send his answer within the week.

A week later, Goldman was the one to deliver the supplies. However, unbeknownst to a certain emperor, he may have added a condition to her village receiving those supplies.

And that was how she became a bride presented to him by the court.

Victor was not amused. And he certainly was not amused that said presented bride had been coerced into his bed chambers that night.

But when he tried to send her back, she snapped. “You called me here as your bride in return for the supplies to my village, and then you have the audacity to turn me away?”

Victor’s brow furrowed as his face turned red in anger. “What do you mean ‘in return for supplies’? That was never part of the condition.”

Needless to say, a very pissed Victor had to refrain from sending people to execution right then and there.

After having rectified the situation in his court, the situation remaining was what to do with the girl.

He knew he couldn’t send her back because her village was waiting anxiously for her to become the new empress.

Which meant striking a deal with MC.

“We will keep up appearances. I will marry you in name only, but you must learn how to act like a true noble lady in order to act perfectly as my wife.”

Que lessons.

Victor supervised, AKA, micromanaged.

And MC was always fiery enough to shoot insults in retaliation.

Actually, it became the highlight of his day.

One day, Victor took over her lesson.

Oof, strict teacher.

But the pressure became too much, and MC finally snapped. “I’m doing everything I can! I can’t give you anything else. If you disliked me this much, you shouldn’t have agreed to marry me.”

Shocked at the tears in her eyes, Victor finally composed himself enough to swipe them away. “It’s not because I dislike you. It’s because I know that you’re strong enough to meet my challenge that I demand so much.”

A mutual understanding passed between the two of them then. Victor did his best to not be so strict, realizing too late that she was under so much pressure already that his strictness was not helping her.

He stopped interfering with her normal lessons, causing him to almost… miss her… a bit.

He decided to satisfy that longing by giving her quick, private lessons at the end of the day. She would show him what she learned, and he would gently correct anything he saw wrong.

And afterwards… they couldn’t bring themselves to part.

So, they would simply walk around the gardens and talk.

And soon, as a way of keeping her around even longer, Victor showed her his secret of actually enjoying using the kitchen.

While it originally surprised her, MC quickly became a more than willing taste tester.

Despite the increased amount of time together, Victor still hated parting with her.

Which was why Victor was very pleased at MC’s sudden new habit of bringing tea to his study when he was working.

It was both a blessing and a curse, because when she did, he got the honor of spending time with her, yet he also neglected his work in the process.

Eventually, Victor found that in the span of just a few months while a proper wedding ceremony was being put together, he’d come to regret the deal he made with MC for their marriage to be name only.

He… actually could see himself happy with her.

He debated telling her or not, and in the end, he was a man and confessed his feelings to her a few days before the wedding was set to take place.

He was surprised by her tears at his confession, only to be met with a confession of her own.

The deal was thrown out that night.

And on the wedding night, their marriage became one of not just name, but body and soul.

He would thank Goldman later because—while Victor still did not approve of Goldman’s methods—had it not been for his interference, Victor would not have such a precious gift in his arms now.

Lucien

He was part of a group of war lords aiming to increase their territory.

He’d conquered a large portion of territory, gaining an army that could then overthrow a comrade’s territory.

Lucien gladly did, taking on the man with no remorse or shame. In fact, he conquered with a smile.

“How dare you turn against me, Ares.”

“Forgive me, Hades,” he said, tone holding no remorse whatsoever. “But I grew tired of your… rather chaotic ambitions.”

Upon defeat, Hades was forced to surrender everything. Land, army, resources,

And a woman he kept very much hidden in his private castle.

Lucien remembered the fear in her eyes the first time they met. She was trapped in one of the rooms, and he’d caught her trying to break the lock on the window.

That fear didn’t dissipate even as a fire lit in her eyes. “I won’t cower to you!” she shouted, glaring at him even though she trembled.

In that moment, Lucien found her easily the most fascinating woman he’d ever seen. Was she driven by courage… or naïve hope?

Either way, it was clear Hades hadn’t broken her yet. Which Lucien was thankful for. She seemed far more interesting like this.

“You could waste time trying to break that lock before certainly injuring yourself in your escape from this third story room. Or, you could just let me show you the way out.”

She looked utterly shocked at that.

He chuckled. “Let’s just say your former master no longer has hold on you. Or anything, really.”

It took a moment for her to process those words. “Are you saying he’d dead?”

“No, not dead. But I do own everything he has as of now.”

“Including me?”

“Including you.”

The fire went out of her eyes a bit at that—what a shame, he quite liked it blazing so brightly—as she eventually followed him from the castle.

He did not dare stay in that castle. Frankly, burning it down would please him the most, which was what he did. He set free those who wanted to find work elsewhere and promised work at his own castle to those who wanted it.

Only a few stayed with him, most unwilling to work for a rogue warlord, but surprisingly, the girl was among them.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she admitted when asked. “If you’re promising work, I’ll take it.”

Lucien found himself very pleased at that. But at the resigned look on her face, he couldn’t help tease her a bit. “Even if I assign you the job of warming my bed?”

She froze, her eyes wide with shock before a fire sparked inside them again. He liked that fire quite a bit. “I tease,” he assured before promising legitimate work for her.

Even after that, she still followed him.

How fascinating a woman she was.

It took three months to learn just how fascinating she was.

He came home wounded after a scuffle on his border. He’d already seen a battlefield doctor to treat them. He would heal just fine.

He asked MC to bring him new bandages. She did so quite quickly, and then she offered to change them for him.

Curious, he accepted.

“Don’t you fear me?” he questioned.

“Why should I?”

“I am no better than your former master.”

“That’s not true!” she cried, looking at him. “You are ruthless, but fair. The people in your territory are able to thrive under your rule.”

He paused, surprised at her words. “And what do you think of me?”

“I think you are gentler and more trustworthy than you present yourself to be. I never worry about my safety or the safety of any other maids here in your home.”

That was all it took for new feelings to spark in Lucien’s chest. Feelings that were so foreign to him yet fascinating to explore.

And he started that exploration by calling on MC to keep him company frequently.

Those meetings varied from walks in his garden to keeping company over tea.

Over time, it became clear just what those feelings in his chest were.

One day, he called her to join him in the library, where they could talk privately.

He wouldn’t confess first. He would talk in a roundabout way that got MC to admit that maybe she felt similarly close to him before he would admit his feelings for her.

He wouldn’t trap her. He would ensure that she felt like she could leave without consequences. But he also knew that if she felt at all similarly, she wouldn’t leave.

And in the end of that conversation that made MC blush bright red and Lucien smirk triumphantly, she agreed to date him.

Which would result in marriage six months later.

Lucien easily felt like the luckiest man alive. He’d conquered many territories and accumulated wealth and riches, but he could say that the only true treasure he’d ever acquired from his efforts was her.

#mlqc #mlqc headcanon #headcanons #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #au #historical au #fluff

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whatdoesshedotothem · 4 years ago

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Wednesday 16 May 1838

7 55/..

fine but dullish morning F56 ½° at 9 ¼ - breakfast at 9 40 in ½ hour and then sat down to Dumonts’ work on the geology of this province – then writing out began my journal of yesterday at 11 40 – about 12 M. Mathioli and staid ¾ hour talking about the coal mine etc. then at my journal again for a little while when our host came again with books and printer advised us to see the chateau at Chokler and staid till 2 – I had ordered the carriage for 1 ¾ - had our boiler out to make tea for A- kept the carriage waiting till off at 3 to Seraing (Seraing) to see the large iron foundry and coal [est] about of Mr. John Cockerill at the river (Meuse) at 3 ¾ and ferried out (sitting in the carriage) in 4 minutes – then drove up fine triple avenue of limes to Mr. Cockerills’ chateau and works – asked permission to see the works – could not be granted – a strict order they should not be shewn to anyone – we alighted at 3 7 leaving the carriage at Mr. C-‘s door while it waited for us till we set off home at 4 35 we walked round Mr. C-‘s buildings and thro’ the village and back all along the Luxembourg road and up to the avenue back to the carriage – (had written out so far of today and finished yesterday at 11 20) when so sleepy went to bed – we had peeped into Mr. C-‘s premises and yards here and there – the mineral burning in heaps out of doors – no sign of smoking furnaces – did not seem to be burning any mineral undercover but the castings are probably all done undercover and out of sight – an enormous pile of building and still adding to it – we walked along one range not much less we thought than 100 yards long – enormous railroad boilers lying about in all directions – and tram rail, and railroad carriage iron-work of all sorts – C- has just bought another large houillère just across the Luxembourg road opposite his buildings perhaps ¼ mile off or more – to which he is now busy making a railroad crossing over the high road by 3 fine arches – long very often double, brick chimneys in all directions – Seraing might be called the palace of Vulcan? full of iron foundries and coal-pits all worked by steam – the Brussels company building on the other side (left bank) C- on the right of the river an immense iron foundry – C- an associé – they are all linked together, says M. Mathioli – on the Luxembourg went into a little cabin allured by the smell of some process with gas-tar – found a single man at work making asphalte de Seyssel – had only begun 3 days ago – under the orders of M. Jenard whose chateau is near – on our return to C- noticed the picturesque little boarded tool-shed erected in the avenue – several people raising the main road – the women everywhere acting as labourers – and at C-‘s new building carrying up bricks and lime in small hods (baskets) and doing all the work of a masons’ labourer – the men (masons) doing merely the mason work – the tool-shed

i.e. grand plan 5 x 3 parasols (one parasol = 35 English in.) –

liked 5 parasols, too, the species of Grille wood-fence much used about here – oak-branches (C-‘s look very nice with their pointed tops) [?] and then set in a trench about a foot deep and well pounded in, with no other support than this and a thin rail nailed on each side of the paling about a foot from the top – stood 3 high parasols = 35in.x3 = 105in. = 8ft. 9in. English – very good effect, and nobody could climb over them – excellent for home – off home again at 4 35 – drove for a minute or 2 towards Namur to see the new foundry building by l’association de Bruxelles – I must inquire further into these picturesque double chimnies tied together by a fine looking arch – home at 6 ½ - M. M- was waiting to receive us and hurried dinner – gave us some account of Mr. C- etc. etc. C-‘s father (died only 2 or 3 years ago) an English master mecanicier i.e. journey man or little master machine maker for he had nothing but made all he had ‘par ses bras’ came over to make spinning machinery married a Liégeoise and got up and up – left 3 sons – John the richest here – James died 2 or 3 months ago a great coal man at Aix la Chapelle, and Charles now living and in grand commerce at Berlin – the last revolution here did a great deal for John C- dinner before 7 – A- poorly lay on the sofa near ½ hour and I wrote then finding her not disinclined, we sat off at 8 and went to the theatre back in ¾ hour – a German company much applauded – a singular piece, or rather dinning piece, for

SH:7/ML/E/21/0101

for we had for the greater part of the ½ hour of performance (at the end of a piece and ¼ hour between this and the next piece) a couple of ladies (grandes dames of the piece)who made the most head-rending din I ever heard from female voice in my life – we had monté au etage too high – gallerie au 2nde for about 2/50 a piece – what difference an approximation to the skies I am not quite aware – looked down upon all below with more interest than on the stage – could not understand the German – the house rather dirty but very well – no beauty – the ladies en cheveux and several in low gown but had hung up the bonnets – and many of the ladies where we intended to have been were in their bonnets [?] some were en chemise – home at 8 ¾ - a mere step from our hotel to the theatre – the commissionaire had gone with us and was waiting for at the door outside – A- had a little tea and I a couple of oranges – she went to bed and I wrote (vide bottom of p. 188) till 11 20 – fine day – F50° at 11 10 pm A- in spite of the dinner the better for going

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no-hugs-peach · 4 years ago

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Runaway Train

This is an excerpt of the Gaara/Ino fic I’ve been working on for the past month or so. I just entered the third act of the story, and determined the premise of the Kankuro/Tenten sequel. Plus hitched my pool noodle to the Shino/Karin raft. Who knew? So I figured I’d post here for some initial reactions. Working title based on binging Train.

Quick Summary: After the Fourth Shinobi War life continued, alliances were made and couples fell in love. Caught between serving her village and following her heart, Ino chose her village. Now Ino must face her past, no matter much how much she wants to keep her secrets buried.

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

The days had flown by, so many meetings in such a short amount of time. The Kages would be casting their votes on the Shinobi Union proposals tomorrow and Ino was anxious to hear the final decision. She had poured herself into the project for almost a year, late nights with other Committee members and days spent researching would be worth if it if the proposal passed.

She hoped that it would pass.

But then what? She could apply for a genin team, Sakura liked her’s well enough. She could take on more missions again. She could be matched.

Ino paced her small room, resenting herself for moving back home before the medical conferences. With all the travel in the past year, she hadn’t had a reason to move out again. But she couldn’t pace the larger house without waking her mom, and Kiku was a fearsome sight when her sleep was disturbed.

She glanced out at the full moon, it’s light beckoning her. It would be good to get some fresh air and clear her head. Maybe then should get some sleep tonight. She slipped on her sandals, taking care to quick jump to the path below.

The walk to Hokage Mountain was quiet, just the way she wanted it.

It also took her past the Suna embassy. Just what she didn’t want.

Ignoring the prick of paranoia, she kept her course, she wouldn’t let the specter of him stop her from enjoying the night. Just like she hadn’t let him shake her presentation. She had been put together, professional, and perfectly informative when he asked questions. Just like she was for anyone else at the presentation. Because she was a fucking professional.

No one knew how much her knees had been shaking that morning, just like they didn’t know that she had checked the room before she entered. Better to be aware of where he was in the room instead of being surprised.

The small office in the embassy was too cluttered for his taste, making time stretch as he replied to the missives that arrived. A few years ago, it seemed like the Shinobi Union was a pipe dream, and to have it coming together so smoothly right now was a blessing. Having to respond to missives from his council, well that was the role of the Kazekage.

Rubbing his temples, Gaara looked out his window to the street below. Not many people were out, the festivities of the last week keeping them closer to the festival grounds. Her hair caught his eye, glinting in the moonlight as she meandered along the main thoroughfare. She didn’t have on that suit from earlier, with her hair carefully smoothed into a demure pony at the nape of her neck. Instead her hair was in a long tail from her crown, her suit traded for a pair of shorts and a purple top. She looked like the Ino he knew again. Before he could talk himself out of it, he followed her through the night.

He followed her up the same footpath he had almost three years ago, when the volunteer effort had first been announced. The village was just as peaceful as that night, the lights twinkling below the ridge. He watched her, tracing her silhouette with his eyes as she took in the view. Her shoulders were ridged again, he hadn’t tried to hide himself although now he wondered if he should’ve.

Taken those extra minutes to see her taking in the sight, to appreciate the way her hair teased the backs of her legs as it fluttered with the soft fabric of her skirt.

He approached her carefully. He’d only get one chance to see her for the last time and he was loathed to waste it. She’d find out soon enough that he had volunteered, and despite what she’d said almost a year ago, he was certain that she would have thoughts on the matter. Thoughts that would only have her avoiding him more in the future.

He was fine with that. If he took his time now, he’d have more images to call to his mind. Images that didn’t end with her leaving him with a void where she should be.

“I didn’t think you’d want to hike all the way up her.” She decided to start the conversation, no one else was around to see them together. No one could hear them.

“It seemed the best way to talk to you,” His low voice coursed up her spine, he stood behind her now. She fought to keep facing away from him, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“What makes you say that?” She ran a hand over her ponytail, “I’ve been busy with the Shinobi Union. You saw the presentation today.”

“I did see the presentation, just like I saw you sent Sai to Suna.” She saw him shift slightly out of the corner of her eye, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She whispered the confession, part of her hoping he wouldn’t hear.

Luck wasn’t on her side.

“I don’t like how we left things in Suna. I thought you were right, for a while.” Gaara continued, “I’ve been hoping part of you has been as miserable as I’ve been.”

She turned to face him, locking his teal eyes with her own blue ones. The air was charged between them, a reckless impulse grabbed her. She wanted to yank him to her, to forget her recent reinstatement and lose herself in him again.

“I told you last time, I can’t go back to how things were.” She couldn’t sneak around again; she’d never be rid of him if she gave in. She needed to know what he was thinking, following her up a moonlit path like this. It seemed an eternity until he spoke.

“I know we can’t. Damnit Ino,” He ran a hand through his dark hair, revealing the kanji on his forehead, “I was blindsided.”

“I’m sorry,” she swallowed against the tension in her throat, “but I had to. Just like I had to get some distance. Give you a chance to forget about me.”

His laugh was bitter, “Forget about you? I spent months trying to ignore every update I heard about you.” He raised his hands in explanation, “Instead it seemed that only invited more information. I don’t want to leave things how they were.”

“I couldn’t give you more.” The words were out before she could talk herself out, she took a breath before continuing, “I can’t give you more than what I already have. I didn’t need more from you.”

Gaara took a small step back, the surprise evident on his face. The tension was thick between them, he was waiting for her to elaborate. She had already revealed too much, she couldn’t risk saying something else and letting him know everything. She refused to break the silence; he’d find out soon enough exactly why she could never be his. He deserved so much more than someone who had lied to him for so long.

“I never asked you for more.” Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly, “I wasn’t the one who decided that we had to end things.”

“One of us had to see the writing on the wall, I needed to get out before either one of could get in any deeper.” She skirted around him, starting down the path again, “Eventually you’ll understand why.”

She walked away before he could say anything else; before he could get under her skin. Before she could reveal the full contents of her heart. She thought she had developed an armor against him. But being alone with him, even for a short while, told her the fire hadn’t died. It had only been banked, and at the slightest wind would flare again.

#GaaIno #Naruto #ino yamanaka #subaku no gaara #fic draft

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woodentranscripts · 4 years ago

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Season 1 Episode 1 The Bane of Rudyard

It's the worst day of Rudyard's life when new competitor Eric Chapman arrives on Piffling and becomes an immediate sensation.

Written by David K. Barnes

EPISODE ONE: THE BANE OF RUDYARD

[narration from Madeleine]

Now, Hidden in the English Channel is an island called Piffling. On the island is a village - Piffling Vale - and the village has a square, and the square has this lovely little antique shop but opposite the antique shop is a funeral home which is where much of this chronicle will be set, I’m afraid. You see, I want to tell you all about a man named Rudyard Funn. He owns the funeral parlour, he’s responsible for all the funerals in Piffling Vale and today, he experienced what was undoubtedly the worst day of his life. Which was probably long overdue.

[funky intro music]

REV: We gather here today to celebrate the life of Stanley Carmichael, who was taken from us only five days ago

He continues

[narration] It all began with a funeral, the antique dealer Stanley Carmichael, whose shop was immediately opposite Rudyard’s premises, had led a life of peace and ordered calm of eighty nine years… and had subsequently crushed to death by a granite sundial.

REV: I confess I never actually bought anything from him. His prices have been quite steep actually, though I did have my eye on that sundial. I might still be tempted if it came down in price, hint hint. (laughs)

[narration] Stanley’s relatives pricked up their ears at the prospect of getting something for that granite sundial. Whilst nearby, his eyes sunken, his skin pale and drawn: stood Rudyard, looking at his watch and wishing strongly that the reverend wasn't an agnostic.

REV: … and undoubtedly looking down at us from his place with God. Unless you don't believe in that sort of thing - which I won’t hold against you, mind you God probably will. Unless he doesn’t exist, in which case he won’t even have anything to complain about, really.

RUDYARD: (clears throat) Reverend.

REV: Sorry, did somebody say -

RUDYARD: Reverend. REV: Oh hello Rudyard- RUDYARD: You’re rambling. REV: Sorry? RUDYARD: You’re rambling again REV: Oh God, am I?

RUDYARD: Yes! REV: I’m so sorry, where was I? RUDYARD: His spirit looking down at us from his place- REV: OH! From his place with God, yes, yes, thank you, right, right, I’ve err Looking down at us from his place with umm… no. No, actually, I don't suppose we could have a quick show of hands? RUDYARD: No! No! Now come on! REV: If you believe in God, could you put your hands up, can we all do that? Put your hands up if you believe, ughh right, right err bout half. Um so! Ah yeah. What I might do is do the service twice- RUDYARD: We don't have time!

REV: Once with God in it and the other without. RUDYARD: No! We’re overrunning. REV: Oh! But I thought I might read out a few psalms RUDYARD: Which ones? REV: I don’t mind, I'll be happy to take requests if anyone’s got any favourites? RUDYARD: Nononono. We’re sixteen minutes behind schedule, nearly seventeen. Georgie? (snaps finders) Wake up! GEORGIE: (groans) I don’t want to RUDYARD: We need the coffin in the ground. Now. GEORGIE: Sir, it’s a very heavy coffin RUDYARD: What’s your point? GEORGIE: I’m the only pallbearer RUDYARD: Oh stop moaning, put your back into it! GEORGIE: Ughh Fine! REV: Do we have time for some funny anecdotes? RUDYARD: We’re late as it is and it’s pissing it down - so no. PERSON 1: He’s ruining everything! RUDYARD: There you are reverend, you’re losing them REV: Oh! I thought they were rather getting into it! PERSON 2: Not him, you! RUDYARD: Me? PERSON 3: You horrid little man, stop hurrying things along!

RUDYARD: Don’t you know what a schedule is? PERSON 3: So rude! RUDYARD: This isn’t my only gig today, you know. I’ve got Mr Ascii to measure up in half an hour! PERSON 1: He’s not dead! RUDYARD: Well he doesn’t look healthy, though, does he? PERSON 3: Stop talking we’re trying to honour Stanley! RUDYARD: Honour Stanley! You didn’t even like him. PERSON 3: How dare you! RUDYARD: I noticed in the shop you slipped that carriage clock down your blouse when you thought no one was looking! (gasps) RUDYARD: And the dressing table! (even more gasps) PERSON 2: I knew it! PERSON 3: Shut up! Bill swiped the portrait of Ova Broughn PERSON 2: Bill! I wanted that portrait! PERSON 1: Well you can’t have it! (gasps) PERSON 1: I’m sorry Jerry, I just lost control, OW REV: Now come, come everyone. Stay calm… Jerry put that shovel down! RUDYARD: Alright, Georgie, get the body in the ground GEORGIE: Sir, They’re not very happy RUDYARD: Of course they don’t look happy, it’s a funeral. Off you go! (she grunts) [narration] The service completed, Rudyard Funn and Georgie Crusoe fled the cemetery and hurried back to the funeral home. Established by local character and serial bigamist Gilbert Funn in the fifteenth century, Funn Funerals have always maintained a solid reputation for being the only funeral home on the island. RUDYARD: (grunts) What it could be a good thing back there, you saw Stanley’s widow GEORGIE: That sad old lady RUDYARD: Yes, when she took a swing at her son in law I think she fell into the grave instead. I don’t know if it was fatal but it looked promising to me GEORGIE: Do you think we’d be able to have a quiet funeral RUDYARD: Asking for the impossible never helped anyone GEORGIE: People smiling, swapping happy memories, I’m not sure every funeral should end with violent conflict RUDYARD: Georgie, once you’ve been here a few more months you’ll realise all funerals always end in bloodshed, there's very little you or I can do about it. Now go and get the measuring kit I want to go to Mr Ascii’s and see if he’s dead yet! GEORGIE: Are you sure it’s worth the bother? RUDYARD: I’ve gone round everyday for the last six weeks, I’m not giving up now, Hop to it! GEORGIE: yes sir~ RUDYARD: Get me a dry jacket, and another hat! Where’s Antigone? Antigone! Now look here, yes. Stanley’s widow! Ha I knew it! No, nothing sorry. We can fit her in a six o clock, I’ll leave her in the ground for the moment, it’ll save time in the long run. No, she shouldn’t be brawling at her age. Of course I could fancy my chances against her, Im thirty-five, she was eighty-two see you at six. Georgie! We’ve got a full day ahead of us! Where’s Antigone? GEORGIE: Try the mortuary! RUDYARD: Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone? Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone are you in the- ANTIGONE: What?! RUDYARD: I’m back. ANTIGONE: I’d rather look at the corpses. RUDYARD: Oh for- ANTIGONE: Does rest in peace mean nothing to you?! RUDYARD: Well I don’t hear the guests complaining. Room for another? ANTIGONE: Is it Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Not yet, this ones a bonus! [narration] That’s Antigone, Rudyard’s twin sister, despite actually being born one week afterwards. The poor dear had been diagnosed with depression within twenty minutes of being born - a world record which gave her no consolation at all. ANTIGONE: So how was it today? RUDYARD: Err the vicar’s getting worse and of course it was raining and inevitably it ended with a punchup over a portrait of Eva Broughn. But personally I found it all very moving ANTIGONE: Brilliant, so that's another grieving widow we’re going to have to apologise to RUDYARD: No we won't. ANTIGONE: Why not?! RUDYARD: She fell into the grave and died before I left! ANTIGONE: She what?! RUDYARD: It’s been a very productive morning ANTIGONE: You really have no concept of what good business is, do you? RUDYARD: I’d love to disagree with you and Oh! I’m doing it right now ANTIGONE: I’ve been in the mortuary all morning and do you know what I’ve been up to! RUDYARD: Oh sure I don’t want to know ANTIGONE: I’ve spent the past five hours mixing formaldehyde and methanol with clementine and a tiny, tiny dash of cinnamon. That’s what I’ve been doing for five hours! RUDYARD: Should I ask why? ANTIGONE: To try to make our embalming fluid smell nicer! So the bodies will smell nicer! Because have you really ever smelt a body, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Why do we still talk to each other? ANTIGONE: Now! Thanks to me, they’ll smell brighter, fresher, not like bodies at all. That’s the sort of service I’m striving for, Rudyard. I want them to forget that the body is a body. RUDYARD: Yes that’ll work, our Grandad’s dead but don’t worry because he smells like christmas! ANTIGONE: It’s attention to detail Rudyard! It’s how we run a business, you would know! RUDYARD: We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time GEORGIE: Sir, your other jackets been eaten by moths - I saw the whole thing. RUDYARD: Not now, Georgie, how long did it take for the coffin to get to the ground this morning? GEORGIE: A couple of seconds? RUDYARD: Now that’s a good service! GEORGIE: Because I dropped it RUDYARD: But it got where it needed to be and that’s what they pay us for. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the very last time! They don't want chaos! They don’t want stress and they don’t want a relative dead before the first is even been buried! RUDYARD: How do you know what they want?! ANTIGONE: In the name of sanity, Rudyard - RUDYARD: I’ve got a very busy day ahead of , so just get back into the mortuary CHAPMAN: Hello! RUDYARD: Yes? CHAPMAN: Eric, Eric Chapman. I’m new, to the place! Just arrived! GEORGIE: Good morning RUDYARD: Georgie, leave it to the professionals. Good morning. We’ve not met. CHAPMAN: No, because I’m new, to the place RUDYARD: You don't have to brag about it! I have met people before CHAPMAN: You’re Mr Rudyard Funn, of Funn Funerals? RUDYARD: Correct CHAPMAN: Terrific name, suppose you put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: No, of course we don’t, that’s obscene CHAPMAN: Sure, never mind

ANTIGONE: Hello Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: OH! Jesus ANTIGONE: Is this too close? CHAPMAN: A little bit! ANTIGONE: Sorry! CHAPMAN: No, don’t mention it! ANTIGONE: Sorry, I’m Antigone, sorry pleased to meet you. CHAPMAN: Err, likewise call me Eric. Are you in charge? ANTIGONE: I’m the mortician, where the action is, CHAPMAN: I bet there’s not much you don’t know about the body, Antigone? ANTIGONE: That sounded like a double meaning GEORGIE: It’s called flirting ANTIGONE: Oh gosh, is it? CHAPMAN: Well, now ANTIGONE: It’s smashing, do it again, have I made it awkward? DAMN RUDYARD: I haven’t got all day! CHAPMAN: Yes so, Rudyard, Antigone and GEORGIE: Georgie, Hi ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CHAPMAN: I saw you at the funeral, didn’t I GEORGIE: Yeah, helping out, it’s a job RUDYARD: Georgie, don’t give away company secrets GEORGIE: I was only - ANTIGONE: Hang on, you were at the funeral this morning? CHAPMAN: Yes I was RUDYARD: And I’m sure you’re impressed with what you saw there Mr Chapman but we really are frightfully CHAPMAN: Actually I wasn’t entirely sure it came off RUDYARD: I’m sorry? CHAPMAN: For a start it got a little violent didn’t it? RUDYARD: Did you think so? CHAPMAN: At the end yes RUDYARD: I’m not sure what funeral you were watching, Mr Chapman but all I saw was good clean mourning CHAPMAN: Didn’t someone die? RUDYARD: A very convenient place for it to happen, Georgie GEORGIE: I’m not RUDYARD: There you go, don’t let us keep you Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: And I thought there could have been a greater attention to detail. Stop me if I’m getting too critical. RUDYARD: Okay I’ll stop you there ANTIGONE: Shut up, carry on Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Eric ANTIGONE: Gosh CHAPMAN: I have to say it was a little bit grim, I mean it’s a funeral it’s hardly party time but even so these occasions should be a celebration of life rather than going on about death, do you know what I mean? RUDYARD: Nope CHAPMAN: Ah, I don’t want to be made more miserable and I want to remember those happy magnificent memories, I want a cheerful atmosphere, bright flowers, music, funny recolations ANTIGONE: Sweeter smelling fluids CHAPMAN: Exactly, fluids? ANTIGONE: I think they’re very important. CHAPMAN: Sure thing. That's what I mean! Sorting out those little details, pushing the boat out, or the hearse out, well that's just my two cents for what it’s worth RUDYARD: Well, I don’t know what planet you live on, Mr Chapman, but - ANTIGONE: Thank you! We’ll bear those things in mind, won’t we Rudyard. RUDYARD: remind me- ANTIGONE: Smashing! CHAPMAN: Anyway, I thought I’d swing by ANTIGONE: Oh any time! CHAPMAN: Thank you, ANTIGONE: Any time at all CHAPMAN: Yes, I was just swinging by to see the competition. RUDYARD: Competition? CHAPMAN: Yes. ANTIGONE: You mean like a raffle? CHAPMAN: Not exactly RUDYARD: I hate raffles CHAPMAN: That’s a strange thing to hate. I meant you lot! Er, Funn Funerals the local competition… In funerals RUDYARD: You’re an undertaker. CHAPMAN: Well clients prefer funeral director ANTIGONE: You’re just visiting though?! CHAPMAN: No, I live here now, I’m setting myself up ANTIGONE: Your own funeral home? CHAPMAN: yeah, Chapmans, not quite as catchy as Funn Funerals but there we are ANTIGONE: Where are you going to be? CHAPMAN: You know the antique dealer you just buried, Stanley Carmichael? I’m just taking over his premises. ANTIGONE: Just across the square! CHAPMAN: That’s right! Opposite you actually, we’ll probably see a lot of each other, compare notes, swap stories, down the pub - mine’s a light ale by the way. Err did someone die in here? RUDYARD: Goodbye Chapman. CHAPMAN: Oh sure! Glad to meet you Rudyard, Antigone ANTIGONE: Chapman. CHAPMAN: Georgie GEORGIE: See you later ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CAPMAN: Okay. (exhales) Enjoy yourselves! Ah! The sun’s come out! RUDYARD: If he thinks I’m going to buy him a light ale, he’s very much mistaken. ANTIGONE: Oh shut up Rudyard! This is actually very serious. GEORGIE: He seemed fine ANTIGONE: No he didn’t, Georgie, coming over here waving his credentials in our faces, giving us feedback, my god! GEORGIE: I thought you liked him? ANTIGONE: Liked him?! Liked him?! GEORGIE: Yeah! You were talking about fluids and everything! ANTIGONE: That’s professional chit-chat for god’s sake, do you think I like gorgeous handsome men, do you? Exactly, it’s disgusting, it’s disgusting RUDYARD: I can’t think of a scenario where I would buy someone a light ale ANTIGONE: Rudyard, focus! He is serious competition RUDYARD: Him? Competition? Were you listening to the man? GEORGIE: No she wasn’t, She was gazing into his eyes ANTIGONE: Georgina! Go and make some tea. GEORGIE: We haven’t got a kettle ANTIGONE: Buy one. GEORGIE: Fine ANTIGONE: Rudyard, we’re finished, I think I’ll take a cyanide capsule RUDYARD: We are not finished, we’re an established firm, going back centuries! Nobody round here is going to book a funeral with a complete stranger. ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Look At His Shop! RUDYARD: What is it? ANTIGONE: He’s already changed the sign! ‘Chapman’s’ Just like he said. RUDYARD: I’ll admit he’s working quickly. ANTIGONE: That does it. You’ve got to see the mayor, tell him this village isn’t big enough for two funeral homes! RUDYARD: That’s not a bad idea actually, I’ll see him now. (leaves) One day I’ll find an umbrella. [narration] Rudyard scuttled across the village square and up the step leading to Piffling Hall. He was shown into the office of the Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond. A man who thought the most wonderful words in the english language were “I’m sure it’s going to be fine!” SECRETARY: Mr Rudyard Funn to see you sir. MAYOR: Oh, Thank you Margery RUDYARD: Your worship, I really am most desperately sorry to- where are you? MAYOR: Down here, Rudyard, Under the desk. RUDYARD: Why? MAYOR: Ohh, just sitting here, you know. Doing a bit of thinking, big world out there RUDYARD: Yes, er I came to ask you- MAYOR: Rudyard, do you know what the difference is between a village and a town. RUDYARD: Well er, a town has a greater area, MAYOR: Yes? RUDYARD: Higher population, more amenities MAYOR: Ah, amenities, yes RUDYARD: A mayor! MAYOR: oh yes RUDYARD: I actually came to- MAYOR: We have to do something, Rudyard, with our lives haven’t we Rudyard? Don’t you think? RUDYARD: Yes! MAYOR: I look at my seal of office sometimes and all my envelopes, and I read my name, and have I done enough I ask myself, am I even Right Honourable because I don’t feel it. RUDYARD: Well, to call yourself Right Honourable you have to be a judge or a privy counsellor MAYOR: Really? I’m going to change all my stationary now! You see, this is the thing I’m talking about! What have I earned? What have I achieved? God knows we have to try and justify ourselves, somehow. RUDYARD: mhm, I don’t like the man across the road from me. MAYOR: Exactly, and then what with my sister passing the bucket last week, oh top drawer send off you chaps gave her by the way. RUDYARD: Oh, thank you! MAYOR: Oh, pity it rained RUDYARD: Yes well MAYOR: Can’t help that, or the grounds subsidence, still we all laughed seeing her flopping about like that did we- anyway, Do you know what I’ve decided to do, Rudyard? I am going to turn this village into a town. That’s what I’m going to do. I mean things must expand, mustn’t they? RUDYARD: Probably? MAYOR: Do you think so? Good! She used to say terrible things to me, my sister RUDYARD: I’ve got a problem actually MAYOR: Have you? Well can I help, cause I really like to be useful RUDYARD: I think you can be, you see, your worship, there’s this man. MAYOR: He’s not worth it Rudyard. RUDYARD: Yes. What? No I mean, this man is opening a new funeral home directly across the road from mine. MAYOR: Is that a problem? RUDYARD: We can’t have two funeral homes can’t we? MAYOR: Can’t we, why not RUDYARD: Well it’d be ridiculous! MAYOR: I don’t was to look ridiculous! RUDYARD: Exactly! If we have two funeral homes, why not two fire stations, two hospitals, two mayors! MAYOR: Two mayors!?! Could it really get that far? RUDYARD: I would hate to speculate MAYOR: Help me up, would you? Yes, I think we should stab this in the bud immediately. Thank you Rudyard. RUDYARD: Thank you your worship! MAYOR: Gets me out the office anyway RUDYARD: Well from under the desk. MAYOR: We won't talk about that. Margery, cancel my appointments for today SECRETARY: There aren’t any MAYOR: Thank you! Off we go, Rudyard [narration] Upon arriving at Chapman’s, Rudyard and the - until recently Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond discovered that the place was about ready to be opened! And it wasn’t yet even midday! Rudyard braced himself for a sinister journey into the unknown MAYOR: Wasn’t this place an antique shop a few hours ago? RUDYARD: I don’t understand how he has managed to do all this?! MAYOR: Bit flash isn’t it, all these happy colours, not a patch on your set up, look not a speck of dust anywhere! RUDYARD: I mean, he arrived this morning! MAYOR: It must be said though, these sofas are really comfy! Is that a coffee machine? RUDYARD: Yes? MAYOR: Does your place have one of those? RUDYARD: We bought a kettle only half an hour ago CHAPMAN: Hi, sorry to keep you waiting as you can imagine, it’s all go here! RUDYARD: Is that a lift?! CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eric Chapman, there are some chocolate truffles in the bowl there, help yourself. Would you like the tour, I’d love to show you around, it’s still not quite finished MAYOR: Perhaps another time, Mr Chapman RUDYARD: You’ve got a lift?! MAYOR: Umm, I don’t know quite how to say this but CHAPMAN: How to say what, Mr Mayor? MAYOR: Well, it’s very naughty of you to have done this, is it? CHAPMAN: Is it? MAYOR: Oh without permission I mean CHAPMAN: But you gave me permission MAYOR: Did I? CHAPMAN: I mean before I came here, I was calling back and forth with your people and everything got sorted and err where are we, here we are, look, here’s your signature MAYOR: Yes, the smiley face in the ‘O’ well, it’s definitely mine! You must understand, I don't always read everything I’m given, I am usually kept very busy CHAPMAN: I’m sure, don’t worry about it MAYOR: What do you think? Rudyard? RUDYARD: That’s a really nice lift?!! CHAPMAN: Oh thanks Rudyard MAYOR: Yes, well, even with all this I mean, I am the mayor aren’t I and I have the perfect right to change my mind. CHAPMAN: Oh do you not want me here? MAYOR: No no no no! Not that but you see it’s just that well err, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Sorry? Yes er, Now Look Here CHAPMAN: Yes? RUDYARD: We’ve already got a funeral home MAYOR: Exactly! We’ve already got one and will the best will in the world we can’t have two funeral homes, can we? CHAPMAN: Why? MAYOR: Because, well, then you see, we’d need apparently have to have two hospitals you see? CHAPMAN: That’s a great idea MAYOR: Is it? Oh well good, I’d get onto that! BUT No, nevertheless the village just can’t sustain two funeral homes can it? CHAPMAN: You could be right there MAYOR: Could I? RUDYARD: Told you so CHAPMAN: But you know what could sustain two funeral homes? MAYOR: No? CHAPMAN: A town! MAYOR: A town? You say? RUDYARD: Hmm No! No- CHAPMAN: Now don’t get me wrong, this is a great village but I think it’s going to be an even greater town! And I want to help you do that in the only way I can: with a funeral home. MAYOR: Can I ask you a question? CHAPMAN: Go for it MAYOR: If we had two funeral homes would we need two mayors as well? CHAPMAN: No. That’s ridiculous MAYOR: Oh, excellent in that case I hereby pronounce this funeral home: open! RUDYARD: What? What are they doing there?! CHAPMAN: We’re taking advance orders, it’s just a service we provide. MAYOR: Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Oh please, Mr Mayor, It’s Eric MAYOR: Best of luck Eric, if you are ever at a loose end, do pop by the hall, sometimes we have movie nights! CHAPMAN: I’ll remember that and if you ever need our services it’s on the house. MAYOR: Tremendous, looking forward to it, now RUDYARD: Now, now hang on, we- MAYOR: Glad to have you here CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor MAYOR: No no no, call me Desmond! Ttfn CHAPMAN: Talk to you later, Desmond MAYOR: Should I leave the doors open? CHAPMAN: Oh, if you would, Rudyard I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, can I get you anything. Oh I know what, make yourself a cup of coffee, I’ll better see to that queue eh? Enjoy yourself! Don’t forget the truffles! Good morning ladies and gentlemen, well afternoon now. Well, I’m delighted to say welcome to Chapman’s and remember: We put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: Chapman! [narration] After a coffee, and a couple of truffles, Rudyard stormed out, seething with resentment. He kicked a small dog and got bitten by its owner. Having gotten back to Funn Funerals, Rudyard sat down on a chair by the window and stared out across the road muttering out loud to his only real friend in the world RUDYARD: (muttering) It’s only a funeral home who the hell do they think they are eh? (squeaks) RUDYARD: Exactly, I give him a week, alright maybe two.. Ah he might have gold blend and lounge music but you can’t put a glass on the mechanics. We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time, That’s what it's about, I bet his corpses don't smell of cinnamon. Yeah, we’ll see who runs this village. ANTIGONE: Rudyard you’re talking to that mouse again aren’t you? RUDYARD: Her name is Madeleine ANTIGONE: It’s not normal! RUDYARD: Antigone, you spend twenty-three hours a day in the mortuary don’t try to tell me what’s normal. Off you go Madeleine, we’ll continue this later ANTIGONE: You haven’t moved all afternoon! RUDYARD: I don’t need to move, I’m plotting ANTIGONE: Where’s Georgie? RUDYARD: Day off, no work, plotting. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the first time in our lives we actually have competition which means we could really do with having some friends so could you get out there and make some? RUDYARD: I’ll do it tomorrow ANTIGONE: Have you at least gone round to check on Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Who? ANTIGONE: Mr Ascii, the man we’ve been waiting to die for six weeks, because so help me I need to embalm somebody and it could quite easily be you RUDYARD: Look Mr Ascii’s immortal, he’ll never die so what’s the point about it. Now Look Here, Georgie? What? Right, I’ll see you there. Mr Ascii’s dead. ANTIGONE: Is he? RUDYARD: Yes. OH MY GOD MR ASCII’S DEAD! ANTIGONE: How?! RUDYARD: Heart attack, half an hour ago it’s all around the village, Antigone, I’m so happy! ANTIGONE: Took him long enough RUDYARD: Ahh He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Stop being happy and get over there now! RUDYARD: Sorry, yes, get over there, I’m gone. Rudyard is back in the game! … Rudyard is going to get wet! Have the mortuary ready! ANTIGONE: And Rudyard, don’t cock it up. [narration] Before you judge Rudyard too harshly at his delight at an old man’s demise, I should tell you that Mr Ascii was Rudyard’s old PE teacher at school so his delight is almost entirely justified. Rudyard met Georgie at Mr Ascii’s bijuu residence at five forty-five. GEORGIE: Okay, okay RUDYARD: Georgie GEORIGIE: Sir? RUDYARD: Say it again for me won’t you, say it again GEORGIE: Alright, Mr Ascii’s dead but listen I’ve got- RUDYARD: Yeessssss, Get in there my son… whatever that means GEORGIE: Yeah I ought to say- RUDYARD: I’ve been looking forward to putting him in the ground, can’t mock me for losing the 200 metre dash now can you, Mr Ascii! GEORGIE: Before you get excited RUDYARD: Right yes, got to straighten up, think grave. How do I look? GEORGIE: Miserable RUDYARD: Great, let’s go GEORGIE: But sir, NURSE: Could we please have some quiet out here, oh it’s you, Mister Funn RUDYARD: Good afternoon nurse, Could please take this opportunity to convey my most prevermed(???) condolences NURSE: Thank you Mister Funn RUDYARD: I’m sure my apprentice Ms Crusoe, has already carried out our preliminary duties so I think in the interest of efficiency we should let the dog see the rabbit, if you’ll take me through NURSE: Well, This is actually rather embarrassing RUDYARD: Oh please don’t say it’s a false alarm! NURSE: In a sense,,, yes RUDYARD: Oh for, Georgie you said he was dead GEORGIE: He is dead RUDYARD: But, ugh, Nurse, one of us in this corridor is deeply confused and I’m beginning to believe it might be you NURSE: No? RUDYARD: I knew it, she’s mad, grab her Georgie. NURSE: I’m not mad! RUDYARD: That’s what a mad person would say, Georgie GEORGIE: Let’s do this CHAPMAN: Rudyard! Great to see you RUDYARD: Chapman! CHAPMAN: Busy afternoon, eh, hello Georgie GEORGIE: Hey, Eric RUDYARD: Stop flirting. Nurse, I demand this man be told to vacate this bijuu residence immediately CHAPMAN: Look, this is my bad, and I’ve really got to apologise for this one NURSE: Mr Ascii requested it! RUDYARD: He what? NURSE: With his final words he said he couldn’t bare to get buried by such a feeble little weed as Rudyard Funn CHAPMAN: Interesting man, he wanted to see my gold medals from the 200 metre dash, gotta say I wasn’t expecting business to kick off so quickly NURSE: You’re doing a most proper job Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Thank you nurse, I think we’ll collect him first thing tomorrow. Anyway must run, good to see you Rudyard, Georgie. Enjoy yourselves! Ahh NURSE: What a charming man, I hear he’s still a bachelor RUDYARD: So am I.. NURSE: Yes well, hardly surprising is it? GEORGIE: Ahh well, can’t win em all eh sir? Sir, are you alright? RUDYARD: I am so… SIX O CLOCK GEORGIE: Six o clock? RUDYARD: Six o clock! The cemetery, Stanley’s widow, Stanley Carmichael’s widow in the cemetery at six o clock! GEORGIE: Oh yeah! I forgot about that! RUDYARD: What time is it? GEORGIE: About five to six but you’ll never get there. Sir?! Oh for god’s sake, Rudyard! Come back here you stupid. [narration] Rudyard raced down the cliff, past the trees and through the streets with speed that would have finally impressed Mr Ascii, had he not already been dead. His lungs aching for breath, his limbs trembling with the effort, Rudyard tumbled into the cemetery at exactly one minute past six. To discover… RUDYARD: It’s…. It’s all REV: Ahh, there you are Rudyard! RUDYARD: Reverend? What’s going on? REV: Well, I arrived to oversee the preliminaries on Mrs Carmichael’s err, transferal to a better world - if such a place exists - which i'm not certain about one way or the other, and I found that her family and friends had been gathered together already for the funeral. RUDYARD: For the funeral? REV: Since the deceased was already here, and sensibly dressed, he just got it done out of the way, young fella named Eric, got his own funeral practise I understand. I’m hearing marvelous things about it. He’s got a coffee machine! Led them all a couple of sing songs actually, even had my speech prepared for me! Very succinct it was, breezed through it all in no time. RUDYARD: Chapman… REV: Oh he also found a lake! Over there! I think we’re all going boating in a minute. He owns a boat you know RUDYARD: Chapman! REV: Anyway, I better get to be going back to it, we’re having jelly and ice cream, bags of fun. Goodbye, Rudyard! Or should I say: Enjoy yourself! RUDYARD: I see. I see. Well CHAPMAN: Hello Rudyard. RUDYARD: Oh. It’s. you. Did a fair job I hear, congratulations, don’t think it will always be like this they won’t hand it to you on a plate you know, they won’t do that. This is very much the exception. Oh what? What? You can talk can’t you? Say something? CHAPMAN: Rudyard. Have a nice evening. RUDYARD: What do you- What do you mean: have a nice evening? What do you mean by that remark, Chapman? What if I don’t want to have a nice evening? Eh? What if I Don’t? Chapman! What did you mean! Chapman! Chapman?! [narration] Today had been the worst day of Rudyard’s life, until tomorrow came along and topped it. I was there to jot it all down from first hand observation (and a little bit of gossip I picked up later) and of course, being his only real friend in the world, Rudyard tells me everything. My name is Madeleine - I’m going to be the first mouse to be a Sunday Times Best Seller, and I know for a fact that Rudyard want to revenge himself on Eric by well, we’ll burn that bridge when be come to it

#season one #s1 ep1 #The bane of Rudyard #wooden overcoats #wooden overcoats transcripts #rudyard funn #antigone funn #georgie crusoe #eric chapman #podcast #podcast transcript

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k7l4d4 · 4 years ago

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Owl House AU Ideas, ZA FOURTH!!

This one is another crossover, but a bit more serious than my last. Show of hands, who here has heard of Black Clover! Really? THAT many? Alright!! Note: This is incomplete, and will be expanded upon at a later date, or at request.

Clovers and Owls!: The premise, the cast of the Owl House exists within the world of Black Clover. Bonesborough is a refuge hidden within the outskirts of the Clover Kingdom, populated by one of the two groups of descendants and survivors of the Elf Tribe massacre and runaways from the Forest of Witches, its inhabitants are gifted with incredibly powerful, and incredibly unusual forms of magic. Near totally self-sufficient, the residents of Bonesborough are a complete unknown to all but the highest levels of the Magic Knights, (technically, the actual king is supposed to know as well, but he is so incompetent that he never learned.) the nature of the residents being elves is unknown, all that is known is that they are the reclusive descendants of Witches and are wary of outsiders. Amity: In this story, the inhabitants of Bonesborough include the Blight family, which boasts a proud lineage as descendants of Licht the Sword Mage. Unfortunately, the Blight parents don't exactly live up to their heritage, being isolationist paranoiacs. At an early age, they, along with one other family, experimented on Amity in the hopes of creating the "Ultimate Elf Mage" as a deterrent in the event of another conflict between Humans and Elves occurring. Due to Amity baring a lack of identifying marks to prove the experiments occurred, along with the Blights' influence with Bonesborough, they managed to escape punishment, though not unscathed, as they lost a large amount of prestige. While Amity bares no memory of the experiments, she is plagued by chronic pains, fortunately non-debilitating, and is fully aware of what her parents were accused of doing, which she completely believes they are capable of. The experiments linked Amity, as well as the other test subject, to the same reincarnation spell as the old Elf Tribe, granting her an immense boost to her already massive reserves of magic, but the modifications to her being resulted in Amity being ostracized as an "unnatural child" and a profound sense of loneliness. Amity wields Catalyst Magic, allowing her to borrow the magical abilities of others in exchange for having none inherent to herself. Amity's variant allows her to wield all her available elements simultaneously, blending them together into incredibly complex workings that even seasoned veterans find impressive. The alterations done to her body have resulted in Amity gaining the ability to store and feed shards of others magic, granting her access to magical elements she would otherwise be without due to not having an appropriate mage on hand, however, she must be careful not to fully expend her shards or she will use them up and lose access to the magic they contained. Another alteration has made it so she can store and wield Anti Magic, but use of it prevents her from using any other form of magic and causes her pain, as it damages her body from within. One of Amity's greatest strengths is her innate affinity for mana, allowing her to detect and record the flow of it perfectly at all times, something she possessed even before she was altered, and may have contributed to her parents selecting her for the experimentation process; her senses are so fine that Asta, someone born without mana and is thus a void in the senses of other Mages, is perfectly detectable to her, as she can feel the ambient mana of her environment flow around him and his own lack of inherent mana.

Luz: In this story, Camila, along with an infant Luz, were on the run, attempting to avoid those seeking to exploit Camila's powerful Healing Magic, with their trek eventually leading them to Bonesborough. Upon reaching the isolated town, Camila managed to plead her case and set up residence for herself and Luz. Growing up as the sole full human in a village populated by Elf-Witch hybrids, Luz experienced isolation from others early on, though she some how always managed to keep a cheerful grin on her face, even when it was just to hide the pain inside. While very similar to her Canon self, Luz is a bit more thoughtful and level-headed in this AU, with the nature of her abilities necessitating her thinking things through before she actually does them. A passionate ray of sunshine, Luz always attempts to look on the bright side of a situation, with a natural flair and charisma that allows her to sway all but her most staunch adversaries. Luz's magical abilities are considered truly unique, as the composition of her mana is technically on the level of members of Royalty, yet its unusual nature presents difficulties for others to sense her true power, with only elves and certain members of royalty being able to truly gauge her magical power, with anyone else getting a reading no different than the average peasant. Luz's magic is known (in homage to her original series) as Wild Magic. Wild Magic, in this setting, is the fundamental magic of nature itself, the use of which causes Luz to literally merge with the magic and mana around her. Due to the current risk of losing herself in the mana, Luz often restricts herself to lower-level feats, creating the illusion that her magic is merely a form of environmental manipulation. Luz is desperate to learn more about humanity and the outside world, so when a chance to join the magic knights to gain intel was offered, she jumped at the chance. Boscha: Boscha's parents were part of the same group as Amity's, with Boscha serving as the prototype for their experiments. I'll spare you the gory details, but to test the feasibility of tapping into reincarnation magic-based forms of empowerment, Boscha's soul was forcefully extracted from her body and shoved back in through a reincarnation spell, known as Evil Eye. Boscha is far faster, stronger, and more aggressive than nearly any other mage her age. Due to the extant of the experiments conducted on her, Boscha's Evil Eye is always open, warping her mind into a near-feral state, and her original flame magic became corrupted into Demon Flame magic, a form of magical fire that can devour other forms of mana, and even the soul itself. Because she had so many more noticeable signs of alteration, Boscha's parents were unable to escape justice for what was done to her, leading to their exile into the Grand Magic Zone outside the Clover Kingdom. Like Amity, Boscha was heavily ostracized due to her altered state, but whereas Amity grew despondent, Boscha grew angry and bitter. Boscha has a horrible temper, and craves violence to a degree that frightens even herself, yet despite her flaws, Boscha is unwaveringly loyal to those she cares about, with Amity and surprisingly Luz counted among that number, and surprisingly friendly to those she isn't against and even to those she technically is! Boscha is incredibly proud of her skills, and any slight as to her strength and ability will near always result in violent retaliation. Boscha wields the power of Manticore, an artificial Fire Spirit created through the same experiments that resulted in her current state. Unlike other spirits, Manticore is nearly mindless, only showing any form of intellect and personality when called upon in a fight, and even then only in the loosest of senses.

As always, feel free to ask questions, comment, or use the AU as you please.

#the owl house #owl house au #luz noceda #amity blight #boscha #black clover #black clover au #black clover asta

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moon-yean · 4 years ago

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could u elaborate what was so bad about the barbarians? i saw the show and thought it was ok but i don't have enough knowledge to know what are the ideological implications of it? sorry, just really curious and wanna learn more

*takes a deep breath* oh boy, where to even begin? Thanks for your question as I might finally get this off my chest! Okay, fair’s fair, anyone who likes the show should look away now because I’m not going to mince words. And I want to reiterate that there were things about the show that I liked, mostly on a superficial aesthetical level. Generally you could tell from the get-go though that the writers are hacks who know nothing about history or good storytelling for that matter. I could’ve dealt with a show that was historically inaccurate if only the character drama had been written well. I might also have enjoyed the show more if the character drama had been mediocre but if there had been a sense of historical authenticity (not accuracy, mind; but still something tangibly more substantial than the patina they tried to throw onto their frankly embarrassingly lowbrow attempt by having parts of the dialogue translated into Latin by an expert and by hiring a good crew for the costume and props design - of the Romans at least... putting lipstick on a pig and all that, although pigs are great and the writing here is not).

Since you asked about the ideological implications specifically, I’ll start with that and work my way towards other criticisms (this is going to be LONG):

19th century nationalism: The story of Arminius and his merry band of brothers who defy the big bad Roman empire is a narrative that became especially popular in Germany in the 18th and 19th century, both with liberal patriotic movements that were advocating for the unification of the “German cultural nation” in a modern nation state (spurred by the Wars of Liberation against Napoléon Bonaparte and French occupation) and later with the völkisch movements where that nationalism segued into the pseudo-scientific racial ‘theories’ of a ‘superior German race’ which in turn was part of the ideological foundation of the genocides and atrocities committed by Germany in the 20th century (not only in WWII, see also the colonial genocide of the Herero in 1904). We cannot disentangle this predominantly racist reception history that re-invented Arminius (”Hermann der Cherusker” - “Hermann the Cheruscan” - or, indeed “Hermann the German” ha!) as the founding myth of a German people from the way this story has been depicted in media, entertainment and culture and, as evidenced by Barbarians, continues to be to this day.

Barbarians pays lip service to the fact that actually there was no German people at the time by having the tribes meet at the Ting in the first episode and have someone outright state it. These kinds of tidbits literally voiced by characters give off a strong whiff of the authors googling something, reading something on Wikipedia, and then putting it in there. I’m sorry (actually not sorry) to come down harsh on this but given what we’re talking about here, that’s just not good enough. It’s an embarrassing level of “writing”. The authors clearly have NO idea what they’re talking about or what they’re dealing with because despite their lip services, they actively reproduce the harmful narratives that were spun around this actual historical event and these actual historical figures in the 19th century. No effort was made to depict anything complex or realistic here. Case in point: Even though there’s a pretense that the tribes aren’t part of the same people, they don’t look much different from each other, they all speak the same kind of modern high German that sounds like they’re at a costume party in the year of our lord 2020 (and in the case of Folkwin, drugged out of their mind; he sounds like a guy who’d throw beer cans at passersby). They come across as basically just being separated by the few acres between their villages. And then when the big bad evil Roman empire wants to squash their resistance (Asterix did it better change my mind challenge), freedom fighter Arminius rallies them together with a heroic speech and they charge at the Romans RAAHWWHR! ... no, just no.

There would have been SO MANY ways to reframe and retell this story in a fresh, new, and exciting way that would have made for amazing character drama. The premise is so good. If we were to look at the basics of what is known, there are so many personal AND political complexities in there that just beg to be coloured in with a little imagination. I just... I don’t even know where to begin to fix the choices that the show did go with since most of them don’t make any sense, don’t contribute anything to the narrative and are just. there. Have y’all noticed that there is ZERO dramatic tension in any of the scenes? Like, what? How?? Culture clash, divided loyalties, identity issues, the way that a militaristic upbringing might warp the mind, feelings of home and belonging and displacement, the return of the lost son, the betrayal of a high-ranking officer, just, there are so many themes that the show could have focused on but it botches all of them, nothing of it feels real, earned, or logical. Characters behave in idiotic ways for the sake of the plot (I wanted to like Thusnelda, I really did, I’m always here for female characters but she was so painfully obviously written by 3 dudes who thought that feminism = praying to the good sisters of the forest and slashing your face aöldksfaökdjf plus the actress could not sell any of it, she sounded ridic).

I’m exhausted just thinking about the many ways in which the writing on the show sucked. Impaired character used as a symbol~ for other characters instead of being a character on his own? Check. Weird mystical shit? Check. Earthbound tribal people who are one with nature? Check. Death on the cross to get that Christian imagery in there? Check. Lack of female characters except feisty!badass!Thusnelda, scheming!conniving!pulling-the-strings!wife, weird!mystical!seer? Check. Varus doing a Herod by demanding first-borns to up the Christian persecuted ante? Check. (All he was missing was the mustache to twirl. Was he even a character? He looked vaguely concerned and sceptical. That was his character.)

Look, the actor Arminius was great but even he couldn’t make sense of any of it. The character work was so shoddy, it was shocking. One minute he’s still all-in with the Romans, ordering lashes for “German” mercenaries without being very conflicted about it, reminiscing with fellow Roman soldiers about the good old times in some fireside bonding, asking his foster father to go home to Rome, and then when bad!dad is like “lol no” (surely they would have had that convo before??? surely Arminius would have known how far his career could go???), Arminius turns around and goes “let’s kill 3 Roman legions!! I’M MAD!!” ... lmao dude, just...

Another favourite of mine: The romance between Thusnelda and Folkwin is supposed to be illicit and against her social status. Does anyone even notice? Does anybody even care? Why did the writers come up with Folkwin in the first place? (His name Folkwin Wolfspeer is a hoot and an embarassment in itself. I wonder whether they used some kind of Germanic name generator. They certainly did use a generic speech generator for the battle speech Arminius gives in the last episode lol)

Back to the topic of a lack of tension. Of course there can’t be any tension if the characters suck. But it’s also because of the design of the scenes and plot points. The cliffhangers are so telegraphed and artificially constructed, it’s almost hilarious. My “favourite” has got to be the one of the first episode: The “hi dad” one. Not only does Arminius go to the village with other Romans in tow who then disappear because nothing in this show makes sense but this kind of revelation also goes against everything we know about good storytelling. There’s a famous quote by Hitchcock and I’ll quote it in full because I think it absolutely applies here (and it is valid for character tension as much as it is for suspense):

There is a distinct difference between "suspense" and "surprise," and yet many pictures continually confuse the two. I'll explain what I mean.

We are now having a very innocent little chat. Let's suppose that there is a bomb underneath this table between us. Nothing happens, and then all of a sudden, "Boom!" There is an explosion. The public is surprised, but prior to this surprise, it has seen an absolutely ordinary scene, of no special consequence. Now, let us take a suspense situation. The bomb is underneath the table and the public knows it, probably because they have seen the anarchist place it there. The public is aware the bomb is going to explode at one o'clock and there is a clock in the decor. The public can see that it is a quarter to one. In these conditions, the same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: "You shouldn't be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!"

In the first case we have given the public fifteen seconds of surprise at the moment of the explosion. In the second we have provided them with fifteen minutes of suspense. The conclusion is that whenever possible the public must be informed. Except when the surprise is a twist, that is, when the unexpected ending is, in itself, the highlight of the story.

I hope you can see what I mean here. Barbarians continuously springs surprises on its audience but it has absolutely no tension/suspense in any of its scenes. The only time where the show even comes close to having any kind of genuinely dramatic moment is the conversation between Arminius and Varus where Arminius tries to hide his hurt and disappointment, and all the emotion in that scene is completely due to the actor since the dialogue is fairly idiotic for what is supposed to be the turning moment. Let’s go back to the basics and imagine what the show could have done differently, even allowing for the way in which the writers wanted to tell it (which, as I mentioned, is not appropriately sensitized to the misappropriation of the material in the past - but even if we go with THAT kind of freedom fighter / lost child narrative, it ought to be done well). And here now follows my actual essay of grievances:

The premise of the story, in as much as we know from history, is amazing: An officer of the Roman army, delivered to the Romans by his tribe as a child, returns to the "country" of his birth as part of the invading Roman army which oppresses the natives of the lands. He switches sides, unites different tribes and leads them to a decisive victory against the Roman army in a battle in a forest that lasted for several days and was cleverly planned by the "Germans" who end up outsmarting the Romans who are victims of ambush and the terrain, being split up and stumbling through the forest exhausted and without finding a way back to the other troops (love that the show as we have it managed to squeeze in the cliché "two armies standing on opposing sides decide to just start running towards each other, epic clash, chaos" (which is militarily so fucking stupid and nobody ever did that)).

Anyway, that premise is amazing. You could do so much with it. And if you wanted to make a miniseries about it, the biggest question would surely be: Why did Arminius switch sides? That’s the key plot point. And themes of otherness, oppression, exploitation, identity, and so on, would be a good fit. The first problem with the miniseries is that it has nothing to say about any of that. Arminius doesn’t even feel like the main character (aside from his actor being a cut above the rest). We don’t get to see much of his POV. We don’t get many meaningful conversations between him and Varus (actually just one after which he has a total character transplant). Instead, we get to spend lots of time with characters that don’t add anything in particular to the central plot nor to any of the central themes. Literally, why? 6 episodes is already pretty fucking short to make Arminius’ turn believable, so you’d better spend most of them on him. This is not material for an ensemble show (nevermind that the other characters suck and are not well-acted and written to behave stupidly... that’s just ON TOP of the fundamental issue of this show lacking a POV).

Like, you can turn this into a big Hollywood action movie about the battle or you make it a character drama where the battle is also told from a character perspective (i.e. focusing on the mounting fear and desperation of the soldiers as the battle drags on for days etc but more importantly focusing on why the battle takes place and why it’s important to both the Romans and the “Germans”). As it is, in the show, we don’t get any idea why the Romans are even there in the first place and pestering the people by demanding some tributes. And we don’t get any idea why the Germanic tribes are so opposed to this or why others of them might not be. We don’t get any of the broader political implications, we just get some eagle-stealing pranks (defiance!! cool, just agitate them in a completely stupid and arbitrary way, why don’t you) and a few people executed because the “Germans” were being stupid. That’s not the scale that’s needed here. And I don’t mean that we needed to see mass executions. In fact, I would have preferred if there had been no such hackneyed and emotionally manipulative device.

Arminius is basically absent for all the early encounters of the Romans with the “Germans”. So while we suspect that the mistreatment of the “Germans” at the hands of the Romans would be a strong motivational factor for him, we don’t actually see him witness any of few hints in that direction that we get, so it doesn’t actually matter for his character arc. I have so many issues with how his arc is written. In the first episodes, we don’t get any sense that he’s not a happy Roman. When a “Barbarian” mercenary ridicules Rome, he has him whipped and we don’t get much of a sense that he’s very conflicted about it. Even just moments before he ends up destroying his effigies of Roman gods, we see him trying to get Varus to send him back to Rome. Earlier in the same episode, he prays to those Roman gods. I’m sorry but wtf? How the turntables... If you want to make it believable that he would turn on Rome, why not start with him already being frustrated with the way that things in Rome work? With the way the army is run? And why not give him a careerist streak and make him frustrated that he can’t advance much further because of his lowly birth and background? And instead of Varus being an asshole to him about it (he’s supposed to be his foster father, surely Arminius would already know how Varus thinks about his people and surely he’d already know how far he can climb up the ranks), have Varus be sympathetic but basically like “sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”

Arminius betraying Rome shouldn’t be about Varus saying something mean~, if anything a personal connection of his with Varus should just make the betrayal harder and be something that he does despite the fact that there are Romans he cares about. If you start out the show with him already having significant doubts about his place in the Roman army and identity issues, you just need to add something to it that will finally breaks the camel’s back. Have him become increasingly agitated by the way the "Germans” are treated by the Romans. Start the show with him making to leave Rome, someone asking him whether he’s excited to return to his place of birth and him joking about it but obviously being conflicted and then overwhelmed when he actually gets there because it totally destroys his sense of self which he has built for himself (and for which we would have needed to see the contrast, even if just for one scene, of how he is treated in Rome – perhaps snobbed by others, not treated equally in some sort of social setting, could be something subtle – to show us and him that as much as he wishes, he is not and will never be accepted as a Roman).

And then when he gets to the provinces, we need to see that from his perspective. What’s his reaction to arriving there? To seeing the familiar landscapes? (Or maybe he was taken as a younger child and doesn’t actually have that many memories of it but feels a sense of belonging anyway.) There are so many scenes in this show that seem to hint at these things but they are completely random and unfocused and interspersed with the stupid village people shenanigans. Varus talks about burning down villages in retribution. Well, why don’t we see any of that? (Nevermind that it’s comic book villain level of evil, but I’m working with a fix here and not a total rewrite as would be better.) Surely it can’t be too expensive to burn down a few huts in the night. And having Arminius ride along / witness it but not say anything even though we can see these things having an effect on him. As mentioned: The worst offense is the scene when he rides to the village (with other Romans in tow!) and announces “hi dad!” just to have that cliffhanger. Wtf?

Characters doling out information that the viewer doesn’t have is the absolute worst way of telling a story and maintaining tension. It should be the other way around. How about instead you have him be part of a Roman delegation that rides into the village and demands [random, whatever, the fucking eagle if you must keep that shit] and when the Reik (whom the audience already knows to be Arminius’ father) doesn’t want to give it (because he’s not actually a weak fucking clown as almost everyone in the actual show is aside from feisty Thusnelda who’s a fierce~ fucking clown rmfe), the Romans begin beating the dad or whipping him or whatever, completely humiliating him and his people, and we see Arminius on his horse watching the show with growing unrest until the realization really hits him that this is his father (cue flashback to a very young Arminius being dragged away) and the tension keeps ratcheting until he shouts in German “that’s enough” before correcting himself to give the same command in Latin (maybe he still thinks in German, would be an interesting idea) and the Romans look at him with suspicion, like wtf was that, and the "Germans” are like, why tf does this Roman officer speak German, and it’s super awkward and shit and maybe Varus is also there and he looks at Arminius like, oh shit I need to protect my boy he’s actually all up in his feels about these wildlings let’s go back to the camp and have a talk, and so the Romans end up leaving and the “Germans” are like “wait, was that... could it have been.. remember lil Ari who you gave up... but it couldn’t be...” and meanwhile the beaten dad doesn’t want to hear any of that because he actually has never dared hope he would see his son again and also he kind of doesn’t want to see him again because he would be too ashamed to meet his eyes.

And then later we see Arminius pacing up and down in his tent because this won’t let him go, even after he had a talk with Varus, and after some agonizing he steals away in the night to go confront his father (if you want to keep that German mercenary noticing shit, have him notice that). And then we see the father in his hut and everything is quiet and we are waiting for Arminius to show up because we know he’s on his way. But we don’t know whether he wants to talk to his father or just kill him in revenge for the trauma he’s caused him. You’d show the dad and if it were a good actor, you could see so much in his unrest, maybe despite not wanting to think that that guy could be his son, he kind of knows in his heart that it must be and he’s unsettled and whatnot and then we hear someone outside the door and the door opens and there stands Arminius in a cloak and there’s none of that ridiculous music that wants to scream “epic” but falls way short. Have it be quiet. Have Arminius enter and pull back the hood and they just look at each other. And the dad looks like he wants to hug him but he doesn’t move. And Arminius looks like he wants to murder him but he actually moves to sit down, all the while they keep an eye on each other because who knows, they might actually end up murdering each other. That’s the kind of confrontation you need with a reunion like this jfc. And then they talk and it’s an important scene and I’m not going to write it all out but I hope y’all know what I mean.

I feel like you’d have to rewrite this whole show to actually give the character drama the weight that it needs and deserves because what’s happening in the show is dramatic af but you wouldn’t know because it’s so unbelievably stupidly written. I CANNOT believe that when Arminius is back in the village, he’s standing around with Thusnelda and Folkwin in a field as if they’re catching up at a high school reunion. “So, how’s it been?” “My name is now Arminius lol” “You’re kidding lol” ... uhm hello ??? Is this show a meme or...???

Actually as a last thought, I would have kept Arminius’ mother alive and killed his dad. His dad is irredeemable. He gave him away. But if we assume that he never had a substitute mother, then meeting his mother again (who was against giving him away) would make for much more interesting scenes and would also have a much stronger impact on Arminius. I’ll stop now but I just wanted to note how much I hate the writing on this show and everything it chooses to be. Thanks.

#anonymous #ask #reply #barbarians spoilers #barbarians meta #tv: barbarians #txt #i feel like there is so much more to say #actually the show would need to be rewritten from scratch to be either a good character drama or a good period drama or both #forget my fix here #you can't fix stupid #the whole motivation for arminius' betrayal would need to be revamped #with an eye towards the ways in which it has been misused #in history #but at the same time the story DOES need to be told from his POV imo and it's not here and that's the biggest issue #the conflict within the Roman army would have made for the most intriguing approach #and all that childhood sweetheart bs has to go #that was the worst #so soapy and plain bad #can you imagine how amazing it would've been for roman officer arminius to meet germanic princess thusnelda for the first time?#(if she had been written and acted well)#what could have been...#imma cry #(also WHY is varus the actual foster father of arminius instead of just a higher-ranking officer who takes him under his wing #when he joins up bc he takes a liking to the kid? just... aöldjsfaökdjls)

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theartofimaginaryfriends · 4 years ago

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Chapter 10 - A Suspect

Fic series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover)

Premise: Nova oversees the chariot building and has an unpleasant run-in with Pansy.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ilvermornymascot, @lukecastellandeservedbetter, @eva-blog-p

word count: 1,434

A/N: I’ve got like,,, around nine writing projects again which has now resulted in the creation of a schedule. I will hopefully be posting chapters every friday or saturday (and not gonna to lie I thought today was Sunday so I was feeling panicked but we’re good). If I don’t post anything on either day, it literally just means I was unmotivated to write or busy. Either way, it is now 4AM and I’m trying and failing to fix my sleep schedule. Hope y’all enjoy this chapter! I’m super excited for the next one XD

The second week of classes was coming to a close, and Nova's mind was still on the nightmare she had six days prior. Her friends could tell her head was somewhere else, but the only person that brought it up was Cree when the two of them were alone. She spent most of her time zoning out in classes or keeping to herself on the Northern Tower.

During Defence Against the Dark Arts, she was barely paying attention as Hermione and Annabeth answered yet another question, not allowing the rest of the class to participate. The Head Girl doodled in her notebook half the time, barely paying attention when Professor Lieberman asked them to get into groups and discuss amongst themselves for ten minutes. "Nova."

"What?" She looked at Cree and rubbed her arm where he nudged her.

"We're supposed to be discussing how to defeat a manticore by using both magic, and weapons," he explained, not masking the worried look on his face.

"I think it has to be done with at least five people," Annabeth said, leaning against the back of her chair. "Percy, Grover, Thalia, and I had to fight one and we didn't beat it."

"That was when Artemis's Hunters came to camp during winter break that one year, right?" Nova asked, and Annabeth nodded.

"I still get nightmares," she sighed.

"What do you think the best strategy would be?" Frank was curious, having never heard that story before.

"Three wizards and two demigods would do the trick," Annabeth decided, her plans almost always having worked out in the end.

"Three stunning spells at one target, and then the demigods can kill it when it's down," Hermione added, knowing exactly where Annabeth was going with her idea.

"Makes sense," Cree commented, making the girls smile in triumph.

"Times up!" Professor Liberman announced. "Starting with group one, I would like to hear what everyone came up with."

Nova went back to doodling in her notebook as the groups shared their discussion, and didn't pay attention to the rest of the class. She could feel Cree glancing at her continuously throughout the morning, and it didn't stop by the time History of Magic rolled around. During the middle of class, as Professor Trebunskaya droned on about Pukwudgie's and their relationship with wizardkind through the centuries, Nova addressed her friend. "Yes, Cree?"

"Is everything okay, Nova?" he whispered. "You've been out of it before, but it's never this bad."

"Yeah," she lied, but quickly corrected herself after Cree gave her an unbelieving look. "No, I'm not. Never in my life have I been this shaken up after a nightmare, but this time it just feels different."

"Different, how?" he pressed for more information, hoping that it would help his best friend more than anything.

"I don’t know," Nova shrugged. "Maybe it’s because we're one step closer to figuring out the prophecy. Not that we're any closer, but it just feels more real than it should."

"At this point in the year? That's fair," Cree couldn’t help but chuckle, causing the two to be caught.

"Sorry, Professor!" they chorused. They went back to whispering, grateful to be sitting at the back, and tried to work through where Nova's mind was at.

At the end of class, Nova went straight to the quad to oversee the teams building their chariots. The project had started two days prior, and it was already utter chaos. Not only were some teams not getting along - namely Clarisse and Draco - but the quad was an absolute mess. The Hephaestus kids were the ones most guilty of it, too focused on working to realize they were invading another team's workspace.

Lucas dealt with the messes the most, and Nova was the mediator when a fight occurred. Sometimes, Nova would witness Travis and Ron discussing potential pranks to incorporate but usually ignored them. Today, she let her curiosity get the better of her. "Please tell me it will be harmless."

"I swear on the River Styx I wouldn't add a prank to a chariot if it caused harm to anything or anyone," Travis promised the Head Girl. "You know more than anyone that a harmless prank is the best kind."

"Just make sure it's not one that the judges can consider cheating," she sighed, smiling. "I want you two to compete fairly, like everyone else."

"You got it, boss," Travis joking saluted Nova, and Ron laughed at his new friend's antics. As Nova continued walking around to keep an eye on everyone, she noticed Neville giving Frank an apologetic look, and the Roman demigod seemed worried.

"Is everything okay?" she asked the boys, quietly.

"Pansy is terrifying," Frank whispered.

"She's somehow gotten worse," Neville added.

"Oh yeah, that makes sense," Nova shook her head. "Look, I wish I could do anything but I can't. She awful, and I'm sorry you have to deal with her."

"Got anything to say to my face, Sterling?" A voice sneered behind her.

"Actually, yeah," Nova found Pansy more of a nuisance than someone to be afraid of, and today was no exception. "If you want to win this competition - and I know you do - you'll have to learn to be nice to Frank. Teamwork is how you're able to succeed, not that I'm surprised you're unaware of that."

"You dirty little-"

"Oh, I'm not finished," Nova smiled sweetly. "I may not have evidence yet, but I know you're hiding something and I intend to find out what it is. Watch your back."

In truth, Nova didn’t have anything on Pansy except for a hunch. There were very few suspects for the traitor amongst the students, but the Slytherin girl was high on the list. Pansy never seemed to actively want to get along with anyone, and it was clear she didn’t care for this program. All Nova needed was evidence, but she had to pull a few strings to get it.

Pansy stood there speechless, her face was riddled with anger. Nova ignored her and turned to the boys once again. "Good luck, and shout if you two need anything."

"Confringo!"

"Protego." Pansy tried to attack Nova as she was walking away from the two groups, but Nova expertly blocked it. Before a full-on duel could break out, Professor McGonagall and Chiron rushed over to the commotion.

"What is going on here?" McGonagall asked sternly, addressing the question more to Nova.

"Pansy tried to attack me using confringo, and I protected myself against the spell," she answered, calmly.

"Is this true?" Chiron asked the witnesses. Frank, Neville, and Meg nodded unable to hide their shock.

"Miss Parkinson, I thought we were done with this childish behaviour," the Headmistress glared down at the student. "Fifty points from Thunderbird, and a month's worth of detention with me. If I see this again, you will be disqualified from the tournament, and we will find a new partner for Mr Zhang."

Frank gave Nova a 'please let that happen' look, causing her to stifle a giggle. "As for you Miss Sterling."

Nova turned back to McGonagall, a slight feeling of anxiety bubbling in her stomach. "Ten points to Pukwudgie for your honesty and integrity. You will receive no punishment, but I do hope to not find you in this situation again."

"Thank you, Professor," Nova relaxed. "I understand."

Satisfied with that response, the teachers moved on and surveyed the rest of the area. Slightly annoyed with Pansy, Nova continued doing her job and firmly but kindly told everyone to get back to work. The champions complied, either starting to work or arguing with each other.

As the weeks went by, Nova got increasingly frustrated with Pansy and switched jobs with Lucas. She was growing more suspicious about her, but couldn't find the right time to try and look for the evidence she needed. Her friends were in on the idea, everyone agreeing that Pansy was the most likely candidate - although not the only one. The suspicion, however, was pushed to the side within a few weeks after Pansy had seemingly calmed down.

When October hit, there was excitement in the school once again. The corkboards in each lodge contained a notice about the first Baypoint Village visit of the year, happening during the second Saturday of the month. It was a chance for the kids to have a day to relax and not worry about school, the prophecy, or the championship and everyone was stoked. Nova, in particular, was curious about a new shop that was added to the village over the summer and couldn't wait to check it out.

#harry potter #percy jackson #pjo #harry potter/percy jackson crossover fic #harry potter/percy jackson crossover

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

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A Sea of Fragments

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,524

Warnings: Swearing, Fainting, Slight Violence

Premise: You just wanted to get away from a situation that was becoming untenable. Knowledge isn’t always a blessing, especially when it comes with the emotional toll of thousands of futures. Unfortunately however things don’t always go well, and soon you find yourself in a peculiar situation.

In which the reader is clairvoyant and Scaramouche takes an interest.

Author’s Note: Okay but I could write a whole series based off this premise. Ahh Scaramouche you petty drama king. Who is also a bit of an ass but oh well.

Scaramouche can be very entertaining to write but also very difficult. It’s tricky writing a romance with him that isn’t in some ways suspect, though I think that when you manage it he can be surprisingly soft. Really I think a lot of it depends on your interpretation of his character. I really like how this turned out though and I hope you enjoy!

You wanted to be helpful, you really did. Helping people, making your gift something more than an odd sort of burden, it gave you sense of purpose; but it was becoming too much. More and more you hardly knew yourself, whether you were living in your reality or in one which may yet come to pass. It was pressing down on you, causing you to spiral. You couldn’t do it anymore.

Stealing out of the village that had been your home since before you could remember, you couldn’t help but take a glance back. The picturesque houses that clumped together glowed warmly, shadows of people visible in the windows. You wished you could help, you really did. But the burden had become too much, and now it was time to go. Taking a deep breath you turned back towards the road. In a few steps you’d finally be free. And if it was a bittersweet kind of freedom, so be it.

_______

“I hardly expected to be dragged out here to listen to the fantastical rumors of a group of farmers.” Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. The Fatui Agent facing him shifted slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with the Harbinger’s scrutiny. Good. He deserved it.

“I understand the sentiment, but this is hardly an ordinary rumor –”

“Then what is it?” Scaramouche’s acerbic tone cut off the man, making it clear that he wasn’t going to be fooled into complacency. What nonsense people believed. That some of those people were members of the Tsaritsa’s elite army only made it more infuriating. Still, what could you expect of ordinary people? How easily they believed their own lies.

“At first we thought nothing about the rumor as well,” the mage who’d been silent for the duration of the conversation spoke up, “we were just planning on leaving it alone. But then the famed fortune teller vanished. They disappeared, despite no one doubting their claims. Rumor is that the whole thing was making them ill.”

“And now I’m to look into this because our little psychic got tired and ran away?” Scaramouche let out a dramatic sigh, pausing just long enough to see the underlings in front of him squirm. Finally, he shook his head. “Ah the things Signora asks me to do.” Standing up from the chair he was sitting in he turned his back on the messengers. “You’re dismissed. Don’t bother me with this again.” There was some shuffling as the Fatui bowed and left. Scaramouche always loved listening to the way people scuttled away after talking to him. No one had any backbone, they all cowered and slunk away, as if that would make him forget them. Well he never would.

Alone he couldn’t help but scoff once more at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Honestly he expected more of Signora – who could usually be relied upon to possess a little more common sense than the rabble around them. Who would’ve thought her weakness was something as simple as someone pretending to see the future? Really it was quite sad.

“Let’s see what comes out of this little treasure hunt,” Scaramouche mused to himself, grabbing the pack he’d already made up once he’d first heard the rumors swirling around the camp, “they should hope it’s worth my time.”

_______

The village was terribly dinky, as one would expect of a community that was barely above the status of farming commune. Scaramouche wrinkled his nose, overwhelmed by irritating sounds, smells, and sights. How people could live in such a state? It was pitiful, how low humans could sink. Stepping around a cart laden with cabbages Scaramouche ducked inside the leaning structure that comprised the village center. Hopefully he wouldn’t be here long.

Awaiting him was the leader of the village. Her skin was cracked and tanned from the sun, and one couldn’t tell whether her wrinkles were a sign of old age or of the hardship of living a life devoid of luxury. One could almost feel pity for her, Scaramouche thought. Sitting down on the cushion across from her he gestured for her to talk. Hopefully this would be over soon.

“It was six nights ago that they left.” The woman’s voice trembled slightly, there were tears staining the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know why, we never made them unwelcome. They were simply there one day gone the next.”

“Did anyone see them?” Scaramouche attempted to hide his yawn. Usually he kept the tedious work in the lower ranks where it belonged. Still, this was turning into quite an outlandish story the more he heard about it. Apparently you really weren’t some ordinary charlatan, at least not to those around you; some even called you the reincarnation of a powerful spirit or a god. Of course all that might’ve been par for the course, but you refusing all money and gifts was certainly not. What kind of act were you peddling, the Harbinger wondered. Certainly not a very smart one.

“No,” the woman shook her head mournfully, “they lived alone, and often would be out at odd hours of the day, supposedly going to somewhere with less noise and purer air. We all suspected they really just wanted to be left alone. It seemed to annoy them when we asked too much, they often got headaches from it apparently. Once we even had to call in a doctor from the city, after they collapsed mid-vision.”

“I see.” Scaramouche didn’t bother to keep the scowl off his face. What was going on? There was an odd conventionality to this story, and if it weren’t for your roots here and your odd independence he’d certainly be dismissive. And yet…

As if mirroring this thought he raised his hand, standing up and walking towards the door. “Thank you for the information, I’ll be sure to tell you if I find them.”

“Don’t hurt them!” The woman shrank a bit as Scaramouche turned back to her, and he could see her hand trembling slightly as she set it back down.

“Why would you say that?” He said, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Why I wouldn’t dream of doing anything but bringing them home, safe and sound.” He didn’t bother adding anything else, both of them knew it was a lie. For what member of the Fatui does something with expecting anything in return?

Exiting the cramped structure Scaramouche immediately made for the path that led away from the village, out towards the vast wilderness of which folk tales were comprised of. You hadn’t gone far, that he could be relatively sure of. Someone disappearing suddenly like that, taking nothing but a sack full of food and a few weapons? They wouldn’t make it more than a few miles before stopping. Especially since the night watch had confirmed no one had left in the direction of the city. Luckily the Harbinger was more prepared.

_______

The sun had set long ago, and now Scaramouche watched as the moonlight danced upon the only lake in the area. He knew that his best bet was here.

The area was surprisingly beautiful, so much so that even Scaramouche could find some worth in it. The villagers had called it a valley, but really it was more of a canyon, most likely carved out from a glacier, back when gods walked the earth and humans still cowered in their caves. The grass around the lake was so green it seemed surreal, as if it were painted onto the earth, and an cattails and various grasses dotted the edge of the water. A miniature sort of lagoon lay to the north, the dense, low hanging trees obscuring it partially from view. Ethereal was the only way to describe it, anything more would’ve been pretentious and anything less would’ve been somewhat lacking.

The view was so mesmerizing that at first Scaramouche barely registered the shadow dotting the field. Quickly however he regained his senses. The figure was moving quickly, not erratic enough to be without a purpose, not staid enough to be dismissed as a cloud or a piece of flora. No, it was definitely a human, and definitely one who didn’t want to be seen. Smiling to himself Scaramouche leapt into the air. This was going to be at least somewhat interesting.

The figure jumped as soon as he hit the ground. Whirling around Scaramouche knew instantly it was you, the mysterious mystic he’d been looking for. Although, looking at your appearance it seemed more likely for you to be an invalid looking for someone with power, rather than being the source of said magic. The pallor of your skin was ghastly, and though you furrowed your brow and reached for your weapon your eyes were slightly glazed, your movements heavy and unsure.

“Well, what have we here?” Scaramouche smiled as you shrank back for a second. Despite his stature, he knew how to command a room, or a valley, when he needed to. You shook off his theatrics quickly enough though, scowling in response to his declaration.

“If you want me to do something for you, I’m afraid I’m fresh out of visions.”

“Oh? That’s not what I’ve heard. From what I know it seems like your talents never fail you. Unless, of course, you’ve given up on your scheme.” Instead of shock painting your face however you simply raised your hand to your face. Wobbling slightly on your feet you shook your head violently.

“Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not doing business, not before, not now, not ever. So if you could please leave me alone…” your voice faded. By now Scaramouche was sure something was wrong.

“What? Did you manage to get bit by something during your three day wildlife trip?” He sneered. You didn’t seem to hear him however. Staring him straight in the face the expression you wore could almost be described as a smirk.

“I’m going to faint now.” You deadpanned, before your knees buckled and you hit the ground so hard Scaramouche was sure that it was going to leave a bruise.

_______

Unfortunately the oppressive haze of passing out is much more difficult to handle when one is left stranded with an obnoxious stranger in the woods, a stranger who evidently has no intention of helping you. By the time you’d become properly aware of your surroundings they’d become so foreign as to be barely distinguishable from when you were fading in and out of consciousness.

You knew that you were in a tent, one so grand as to basically be a structure on its own. This, along with the cacophony outside, led you to the conclusion that whoever had picked you up – and you still weren’t sure who that odd purple haired man was, though asshole certainly seemed an apt term – they weren’t working alone. A peek outside proved you right, and to your horror you realized very quickly that not only were they not working alone, but that they were with, if not part of, one of the most despicable groups to ever walk Teyvat.

The hours passed, and the light from outside had significantly faded by the time the man came back, this time wearing something much flashier than before. The hat gave you all the information you needed.

“Harbinger.” You spat, glaring as hard as you could. For his part the man said nothing, only making the ghost of a bow, a smirk on lips.

“Feeling better are we? Really for someone supposedly blessed by the gods you have terrible stamina.”

“Try living through hundreds of fragments of fate and come back to me.” You shot back. Although you’d heard frightening stories of the Fatui, and especially of those who led them, you found irritation to be your main emotion. Apparently even fear can be bypassed if one is disgruntled enough. “What do you want anyways?”

“To see if you’re worth the reputation you’ve earned.” The man sat down on a chair so ornate it was almost comical. He stared right back at you, and if you hadn’t felt so drained you might’ve been uncomfortable. Still, you stood your ground.

“I’ve no interest in showing anything to the Fatui.” You kept your voice matter-of-fact. He was like all those other clients that ran to the village, only more vain and perhaps better with a weapon. Otherwise, well wasn’t he nothing at all?

“I’m not interested in your personal opinions. I have a duty to the Tsaritsa to make manifest her wishes through any means possible, and that might be quite a bit easier with one who can see the future.”

“I see many futures, not just the one that will pass. Besides, even if I could tell you exactly what will happen, I wouldn’t.”

“I could make you.” The man sneered, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Frustration welled up inside you as you stood your ground. You wouldn’t lose.

“No, you can’t.”

“Why not? Plan on fighting me?”

“I could just wait until you left for your Harbinger duties.”

“I’d tie you up.”

“I’d escape.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“This conversation is getting nowhere.” The Harbinger leaned back in his chair, sighing in what appeared to be mock annoyance. You smiled, despite yourself.

“I very much agree. So, how about you let me go and I in turn pretend that you never neglected to give me emergency medical attention.”

“Who’re you going to complain to?” The man snorted. You just shook your head, smiling morphing into a smirk.

“Who says I’m going to complain? I could just burn down your tent instead.”

“Ah yes, I forgot you’re a vision user, in both senses of the word.”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” You wrinkled your nose. “If so it wasn’t very funny.”

“I think what’s not very funny is the way this conversation is going.” The man leaned forward once more. “For all your talk, I doubt you could do half of what you threatened, considering you could barely survive on your own for three days.”

“And I think you’re underestimating me.” You replied, continuing to smile as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. “It seems we’ve reached an impasse.”

There was a pause, and as the Harbinger’s face grew cold you wondered if he might storm out. You hoped he would. You wanted to be left alone, to think, to process, perhaps even to look into the future. Not that you tended to look into your own. Divining one’s own path was notoriously taxing, and often it was nearly impossible to wade through the fog of diverging paths.

“Look into my future.” The words took you out of your reverie and you shot a confused look at the person sitting across from you. Seeing the look of suspicion on your face he laughed, and though the laugh was sharp and slightly ugly, it seemed somehow more genuine than the theatrical tone which he’d been employing beforehand. “Look into my future,” he repeated, “and if you see a fragment which is to your liking, then work for me.”

“I don’t work for the Fatui.”

“And I don’t lose an opportunity. Besides,” he raised an eyebrow, “I specified you’d work for me. There’s a difference.”

“Hardly.” You replied, but nevertheless you closed your eyes.

The feeling of falling enveloped you, and when you opened your eyes you weren’t in a tent but rather surrounded by fragments of glass. Each reflected a piece of the future, and as you reached out to look at them you found yourself almost overwhelmed by the emotions they carried.

The first path of the future was one of death. There he stood, bathed in blood, purple eyes glowing with magic, a sadistic smile plastered upon his face. Around him lay the mangled bodies of those you knew he had slaughtered. Sometimes they were warriors, sometimes they seemed to be the most ordinary sort of people. There was a pressure in your ears and for a moment you couldn’t breathe. These futures were dead ones, and their rot now seeped into your skin, filling your throat.

The second path was different, although one would be hard pressed to call them pleasant. In those he was the one who had fallen, eyes which had once been bright now dulled by the shadow of death. A maniacal laughter filled the air in one fragment, a triumphant cry of having murdered a monster; in another fragment there was weeping, and though you couldn’t place who it was the voice sound distinctly familiar. In those fragments you felt an emptiness, and though you knew the tears sliding down your cheeks were par for the course, you were still ashamed by them.

The third path was oddly detached from the rest. You could still feel the crackle of darkness in the air, one who had become a Harbinger would never be able to escape such a thing. But there was something else too. There he stood, staring off into the distance, expression opaque, eyes seeing not the landscape around him but something inside himself. There was the familiar muffled tones of someone speaking – you could never truly hear what anyone said – and he turned around. The ghost of a smile passed his face and he stepped towards whoever was calling him. You focused on one specifically, that in which he seemed happiest. The feeling of contentment, of happiness, enveloped you, mixing with shame when you found yourself staring back at you. Shock running through your system the fragments shook around you, shattering like glass at your feet as you fell back to the present.

“That seemed like quite the experience.”

There was amusement in the Harbinger’s voice, but you found yourself unable to answer him. Breathing heavily you tried to wrap your head around what you’d just envisioned. What in the name of the gods was that? Never before had you doubted your abilities, but now you prayed that you were wrong, prayed to anyone who could hear that you were mistaken. The residual feelings of the shard you’d just witnessed lingered, deepening your sense of unease, of shame. Happiness, how could you feel happiness? This man was a Harbinger, a menace to Teyvat, and you might… you couldn’t even finish the thought.

Wrenching your eyes shut you took a few deep breaths. Leave, you should just leave. Refuse his offer, what could he do? But now you couldn’t unsee the future, couldn’t erase the image from your mind. And though you scoffed at it, deep down inside of you something wished to reach out to that bit of the future once more, to ensure its survival. Exactly why, you couldn’t tell. You could tell yourself it was the horror of the rest of the fragments, but even that wouldn’t be quite accurate. This was the issue with looking into the future. It always ended up affecting the past. Wasn’t this one of the reasons why you’d wanted to leave? Now you’d carry the burden of knowledge with you forever, this one more painful than most.

“Are you going to faint again?” The words were rough but the tone was less so. Opening your eyes you stared into the man’s eyes. Was this what would set you on that path? It seemed so surreal. And yet you knew that it might still come to pass.

“No.” The word came out softer than you’d hoped. “I’m alright.”

He said nothing for a moment, while you in turn calmed yourself down. Finally though he grew impatient. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke once more.

“So, will you work for me?” You glared at him but said nothing. How could you answer it now. You couldn’t tell him what you’d just witnessed, it seemed taboo. Still, the situation had changed. Even if he didn’t know it, it had changed very much.

“Fine.” Your words surprised you, but only for a moment. You’d known, you’d known the moment you’d look into that sea of futures and felt that sense of happiness. It was too late. You’d folded. He’d won.

“Good.” At first the Harbinger stayed still, but soon enough he was standing up, moving towards the entrance of the tent. “I’ll get you what you need. Like I said you’ll be working for me, not for the Fatui, so we can work out the details of your contract ourselves.”

“Whatever you say…”

“Scaramouche.”

“Scaramouche.” You finished. Scaramouche smiled, and in it you saw a ghost of the future.

“And your name?”

“You’ll have to wait to get that answer.” You replied, feeling somewhat contrary.

“As you wish. Well then, mysterious clairvoyant, I look forward to our work together.” Scaramouche replied once more before stepping outside. You sighed, feeling the exhaustion of everything that had just passed. s

You’d taken a gamble with fate, for the future was still uncertain, and the days leading up to it were sure to be full of pitfalls. Still you were resilient. You’d make that future happen. No matter what.

And, if worst came to worst, you wouldn’t be the one crying when the world fell apart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #requested #oneshot #my writing

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paperficwriter · 5 years ago

Text

(Vacation) All I Ever Wanted

This was a request from the wonderful @syblatortue, who is an eternal delight. It was so much fun writing this bakudeku, especially now in this the year of our Heroes:Rising timeline. Bless.

Cut is for length AND content; Dirty Paper warning!

Bakugou had gotten much better at restraining himself since his graduation from UA five years before. Or so he liked to think. Sure, he yelled at villains - they deserved it - but he didn’t yell at civilians or people he was rescuing or even Deku. Unless he was being particularly annoying.

But right now? He could imagine a whiteboard in his mind that said, Days without an outburst, and a hand erasing the number and putting in a zero.

He forced his voice quiet and slow. “What. Do you mean. Our shared lodging.”

“Kacchan…” Deku said softly, trying to be a source of (unwelcome) calm and comfort. They stood side-by-side in front of the check-in table at the entrance to the onsen resort that had been arranged for them by the very wealthy benefactor they saved during a robbery the week before. The woman had kindly insisted, saying how two amazing heroes deserved ‘a treat’ and ‘some time away from such harrowing work.’ Everyone deserves the chance to recharge! she cooed, like they were dogs getting a biscuit.

“Oh yes,” the older man said as he glanced through the written book of reservations. He had the head of a capybara, and there was a yuzu on top of his head that wobbled a little as he spoke. “Your reservation was for our romantic package for two. The person who booked your stay was very clear in that regard, that you were partners, and that you should be given the nicest accommodations.”

“W-we aren’t...we’re not that kind of...it isn’t like that!” Deku stuttered, cheeks going so pink that his freckles faded into the bright color.

“We just work together!” Bakugou snapped, ‘quiet and slow’ replaced by ‘angry and belligerent.’ “Do I look like his boyfriend?!”

“Well, we’ve gotten all types here!” the man said with a chuckle as he stroked the long whiskers that fell around his nose.

That’s not the point, you senile piece of--!! Bakugou grabbed the bridge of his nose so hard he was afraid he was going to leave a bruise. His wallet slammed into the desk when he pulled it out. “What do I have to pay to get us each our own space?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Kacchan, I can help! I have--”

“We can settle up later, dammit!” Something actually strained in his temple. “I have cash and card, whatever you take. I don’t care how much it is.”

Bakugou couldn’t see the man’s eyes under the long strands of fur, but he could definitely see the way he shook his long nose. “I sure am sorry, son, but I’m afraid there’s no other availability. You can get another shuttle back to town tomorrow, but that’s the only space we have at the moment.”

Spinning around on his heel, Bakugou looked outside, back at the long stretch of road that disappeared into the forest and away. It had taken an hour to ride from the stop at the bottom, in the village’s center, and that had been after a two-hour bullet train ride. And a ferry.

Getting home would be a pain in the ass.

“Kacchan?” Deku was at his side, giving him that fucking big-eyed stare of his, like a puppy. He wasn’t quite as short as he used to be, and his hair had grown out, bigger around his still-boyish face. There was just a little smile, and somehow the fact that it was so sweet and tiny made Bakugou sneer. “Please? We can make it work. We can move the futons apart a little, and I read the brochure, and there are several rooms, so we could each have our own space. We don’t have to spend the whole time together.”

Bakugou expelled a hard breath out of his mouth, shifting the big bag on his shoulder with a huff. “Fine, god, fuck, whatever. Let’s just go already.” Now he refused to look at him, opting instead to stare at the mural of several fish on the wall.

“Let me show you the way!” Taking a key from behind the desk, the old man shuffled out and opened a door, leading them outside. “You even have your own private outdoor bath. Isn’t that nice? Very romantic, and you don’t have to share with anyone.”

“I don’t give a shit how romantic it is!”

Deku laughed. “Come on, you have to admit it’s nice to not have to deal with other people if we don’t want to.” He gave his arm a little bump. “We can even take turns if you prefer.”

Bakugou wanted to tear his hair out. He hated this. He hated everything about this, but not for the reasons that Deku seemed to think he did. Over the past several years, he had managed to balance the perfect degree of separation from his partner: they lived on different ends of the city, worked together, and that was it. And that had been fine. Better than fine, in fact. That way, what time they did spend together was just focused on work, on saving people, on kicking villains’ asses. Maybe they would have some interview or press event to go to, but that was just a part of the job, so…

So he could go home and not think about some of the moments when Deku stood too close to him during patrol, staring at him a little too long until he snapped at him to knock it off.

Or he could go play video games and hang out with Kirishima instead of noticing how Deku literally wore his costume until it was so tight it was riding up or hugging him in ways that nobody was ignoring.

Or he could make dinner for himself and train and do anything else that did not involve staring at Deku - at fucking Deku, of all people - when he panted and brushed his thick dark green hair from his forehead after he smashed some monster into a brick wall.

“Good job, Kacchan!”

“Kacchan, will you help me stretch out before we go?”

“Do you want some of my bento? Uraraka made it for me!”

“Kacchan, be careful!”

“Kacchan, don’t hurt yourself…”

“Kacchan?”

“Kacchan!”

Pain laced through Bakugou’s toe as he kicked the wooden step that led into the next building over in the ryokan. It had a small porch with two chairs, and the owner unlocked the front sliding door to usher them in. Once their shoes were off, he walked them around the premises. “This entire building is yours,” he explained, taking them from the main room with a small cushioned sitting space and television into the dining area, where a lacquered table was full of fruit that had been cut into the shape of flowers in an ornate display. “My wife and I live in the west wing of the main building where you came in, so if there is anything we can get for you, please do not hesitate to let us know.”

Bakugou followed as Deku slid the door open to what was obviously the bedroom - which was extremely small, how the fuck were they going to manage that - and then quickly shut it without commenting.

In an attempt to ignore the situation as much as humanly possible, Bakugou let himself be swallowed up in the adjacent sitting room. There were larger, more comfortable chairs, and a huge window gave a pretty gorgeous view of the trees outside, dark green except where their lime-colored bellies turned upwards.

“There may be some rain tonight, but no wind, and after that, you should have wonderful weather for the rest of the weekend. Dinner is normally at six, and breakfast is at eight. We do have some light food in the main building, if you get hungry during the day, and outside of the bathroom is a small icebox with some drinks. Is that all right?”

“Yes, thank you! This is all very nice!” Deku bowed graciously, and the man smiled.

“I’m glad you like it. There are two baths, both inside and out, so I hope you will start your stay with a soak. It’s tradition, and there is a wonderful variety of yukata in the closet. Enjoy.” And just like that, he was gone. Leaving them completely alone.

Bakugou waited until he heard the door slide close and the latch to fall back in place before he dropped his clothes bag in the main room and gave it a vindictive kick. “Seriously? He wasn’t even going to fucking apologize for this?!”

“Kacchan!” Deku shushed him as he came back in, putting his bag beside his. “Don’t be like that, he seems very nice! I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“I don’t care. That ain’t the point!” He really hoped that his face wasn’t as red as it felt, and he stomped over to the closet to throw it open. Sure enough, it was full of garments for them to wear...but then he made note of a detail. “Dammit all to hell! They’re all made to match!”

He glared at Deku when he giggled, reaching past him to slot his hands between each one. “They’re really nice, though...these are obviously hand-made…” Even though there was a variety of colors in gorgeous red, blue, white and black, there were details sewn in that made it very clear they were meant to draw similar parallels. “If I make a recommendation, do you promise not to kill me?”

“No. Never.”

Deku took out a crimson robe and held it up to Bakugou’s chest. He wasn’t looking him in the face, but rather his eyes were honed on Bakugou’s neck, the point between his pecs. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I really think this one would be good on you.”

For a second, Bakugou considered pushing it back at him and telling him to forget it, but...instead he snatched it, turning it around. A blazing sun was fiery on the back, licking outwards to the sides, arms and shoulders. “Whatever.” He found himself taking it. “So which one are you wearing, then?”

Immediately Deku’s hand reached out for a dark yukata, and at first it seemed like it was black, but when he held it up against his white t-shirt, it was obvious that it was a dark navy blue. When he held it up, he nodded.

“What’s on the back?”

“Nothing,” Deku said, a bit too quickly. “It’s plain.”

“Liar. Let me see.” Bakugou reached out to grab it, but Deku turned away with a laugh. He was teasing him, and it made him madder. “Let me see, you irritating nerd!”

“Not yet!” How had they gotten here? Years ago, Deku would have gotten all jittery and nervous when he raised his voice, but now it was as normal as if he were talking to him like one of those losers from school. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“Tch.” Bakugou raised his nose before reaching past him to snag the sandals from the chest in the bottom of the closet. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

And then, before he should have walked away, Deku draped the yukata on the wide sill of the window and took his shirt off.

That was another thing he had managed to get away with avoiding since UA: being in the vicinity of Deku when he was changing in or out of his hero costume. What had started as a loose jumpsuit in their high school years had gotten much tighter, not unlike what he wore himself as Ground Zero. It was what most heroes wore in some capacity, and it should have been fine but…

Those freckles spread across his shoulders, across his chest.

There were scars too, not just on his arms and hands - those he had gotten used to - but between his ribs (a slice from an asshole with a wild blade quirk), right above his belly button (a drill some madman had thrown at him), three nearly symmetrical down his side (claws). More freckles on his stomach. And his chest rose and fell softly as his hands went down to his pants and...stopped.

Stopped, because he was staring at him. Noticing him, the way Bakugou gripped the fabric in his hands, only just barely lucky enough that his fingers weren’t smoking.

Shit.

“I--”

“You’ll just drop trow anywhere, won’t you?!” Bakugou’s shame at being caught ignited into a frustrated anger. So fucking stupid, staring like a damn fish, the fuck… “Shameless shitty Deku…”

“Sorry! Sorry, I thought you...I mean, I thought we--!”

The sliding door closed with a decisive slap as Bakugou stood on the other side, in the bedroom where their futons had been laid out, one hand over his mouth as he breathed through his nose, trying to calm down. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fuck. Fuck!

He had never taken his clothes off so angrily, throwing them onto the tatami floor and thrusting his arms through the sleeves of the yukata, as if the clothing were obviously to blame and not his inability to be a fucking adult and deal with how he felt. Seriously, had there ever been anything he hadn’t told Deku? Maybe not kindly but had at least said to his face?

He had apologized for...everything...hadn’t he?

And nothing could be as hard as that.

Nothing except possibly that he…

A small, rhythmic rapping came from just outside the door, and he heard Deku quietly say, “Hey. Sorry about that. I should have asked.”

How did they make it worse? Bakugou wasn’t some fucking prude. “Whatever. It’s not like you’ve got anything I haven’t seen.” He glanced back. In the light from the hallway, he could see the outline of him: wild hair, the folds of the robe going down his front, one hand up, near where Bakugou’s face hovered on the other side.

“Can I see?” he asked, somehow in a voice that even lower.

“It ain’t like you’ve never seen me in a yukata before, you nerd.” Swallowing, he tried to will away whatever warmth had risen in his face and slid the panel open between them. “Our folks used to take us to the summer and fall festivals all the time when we were…”

Bakugou trailed off as he found himself staring at Deku in the dark navy yukata, his chest peeking out from underneath. Now that it was on him, he could see there were small spots of silver all over the sleeves and across the front, and when Deku turned around, there was a large moon on the back, created with swirls of white, gray and slivers of purple.

“...kids,” he finally finished, dumbly.

“You aren’t mad, are you? I can change if it’s too...you know.” Deku gestured between them, like there was a connection between his moon and Bakugou’s sun. Even just the small movement made it open up further in front, showing off his muscles, the start of his abs, and--

“I don’t give a shit what you wear as long as you’re actually going to wear it. God.” Bakugou grabbed the front of the robe and pulled it tighter together, pressing and more firmly tightening the waist.

“Kacchan, I can do it!”

“Clearly you can’t!”

Deku didn’t snatch his arms so much as put his hands on his wrists, and when Bakugou went to glare into his face, Deku wore an expression that could only be described as...earnest? Serious. Breathing hard. Flush. If Bakugou let go, he’d look like a coward. And that wasn’t an option. He committed to the firm tugs of the fabric, the way he pressed the seams, straightening them out. When he put his hand on his middle, on his sides, he tried to deal with making everything neater and tidier instead of listening to the quiet, shuddering breaths coming from Deku’s slightly-parted lips.

“There. Now you’re halfway fucking presentable.”

Taking his hips, he turned him to the mirror and...it was supposed to save him from this entire moment, but it didn’t. Instead, it just made it all the more apparent how much they seemed to be in sync. Dark and light. Subdue and peaceful against a fiery backdrop.

An eclipse.

“Thanks, Kacchan.” Deku laughed nervously and twisted his fingers together. “D-don’t get too mad if I need your help after trying out the bath, okay?”

The bath.

“...right.”

But the weather had other plans. By the time they got settled in and somewhat unpacked - at least enough that their belongings weren’t strewn across the tidy, formal space - storm clouds gathered and rolled in, making the trees shiver. The thunder rolled into the mountains in a way that seemed easy-going; not causing a crashing ruckus but softly bellowing as the rain began to fall. Lightning lit up the space between the leaves and trunks, and they watched it silently when dinner was delivered.

“I hope it’s enough,” the owner said, rain dripping from his whiskers that hung out from under the umbrella.

Deku removed the stone lid from the platter to reveal a beautiful arrangement of nigiri and sashimi, and he sputtered an insistent, “No, no, of course not! It’s perfect! Please stay warm tonight!”

“You too! There’s some sake on the shelf. Please feel free to help yourself! It’s all included with the stay.”

The old man winked, and Bakugou pretended not to notice, nursing instead a melon soda he got from the fridge.

Once they were both satisfied with the fruit and dinner that had been brought out for them, it was time to check out the bath at last. The two were on opposite ends of the space: obviously the one outside couldn’t be used in the storm, but the one inside seemed to be much more modern, with separate showers on either side of a small room, then a door leading into a large square bath.

“If I catch you trying to look at me while I shower, I’ll kick your ass,” Bakugou declared.

“Yeah, well, same to you,” Deku responded resolutely. “Not that we haven’t shared a shower before...or an onsen for that matter…”

“That doesn’t matter!” Bakugou’s bellow was louder than the thunder. He stomped over to the left side of the room, taking off his yukata and hanging it in the small closet with his slippers to keep them from being affected by the humidity. Then, he picked up the water bucket, dumped it over his head (forcing himself not to react to it, because no way was he going to let Deku think he was cold) and then started scrubbing himself down.

“Brrrr!” Deku wasn’t nearly as conscientious. “Cold!”

He didn’t say anything. He tried not to imagine the effect that the cold water would have on him, giving his skin a pink tint, making him shiver. He rubbed extra hard between his toes so he worked on getting clean over picturing how stupid Deku got himself cleaned up, soapy hands across his chest, on his backside…

He turned the spray on as hot as it would go, practically scalding himself as the bubbles floated down the drain.

“Ahh!” Deku cried out, and Bakugou spun instinctively. It was...hardly a sexy sight, really, since Deku was doing a little dance, rubbing his legs together. “Are you using all the hot water right now?! Mine’s going cold!”

Deku stopped the moment he realized Bakugou was facing him. There was no way his eyes weren’t moving, scanning him, from Bakugou’s chest to his midsection and--

“What the hell do you think you’re looking at?!” Bakugou turned back around, hands instinctively going between his legs.

“Nothing! I mean, not nothing, but...don’t yell, Kacchan!”

“Just wait until I’m in the bath, got it?!” Although he made sure to double check that he was cleaned off, he hurriedly stepped through the door and into the tub. It was actually much deeper than it looked from the showers, and when Bakugou sat down, it came up to his neck. There was a green tint to the water from the salts and minerals, a slightly herbal aroma touching Bakugou’s nose.

As much as he still wanted to be annoyed, it really was relaxing.

“Okay,” Deku called out, once his shower was turned off. “Are you ready? Can I get in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal about it.”

Bakugou let his line of sight fall on the surface of the water rather than have it rise up at Deku’s approach. Which...didn’t actually make that much of a difference because the reflection caught everything in the few seconds before he stepped gingerly into the water. His freckled legs. His pubes and package and the curve of his ass…

“Oof, it’s deep, huh?” Deku laughed as the water rose to his chin.

“It’s better this way. I hate shitty baths where it comes up under your arms. What’s the point?”

“Mmm…” Why did Deku have to make that noise? It made Bakugou want to shiver. “It feels so good after the trip here. I’ve never stayed at a place that had more than one bath, let alone had them both be private.”

Bakugou couldn’t disagree. That was always what kept him away from dealing with most hot springs, frankly. Not only did he hate taking time off, but also he hated sharing space with losers and extras. “I guess that lady had a lot of extra cash she could throw around…”

“We should send a thank you note!”

“Feh. I’ll leave that to you.”

Deku rested his head against the edge of the bath. The steam did little to obfuscate his soft face, the happy little smile that seemed to stay permanent on it as he unwound. He stretched out and Bakugou felt something on his ankle in the murky green close to the bottom. He waited for a moment, figuring Deku would pull back, because seriously how would the dumbass not realize that he had hit Bakugou’s leg, but--

He didn’t. He trailed his toes up and then down.

“Deku,” Bakugou growled, low and not entirely full of rage as much as embarrassment. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“That’s my leg.”

The response was immediate, profound and...wet. Because Deku leapt back onto the ledge on his side like Bakugou had told him that there was a shark or something. “Sorry! I thought it was a fixture! Or...or something!”

Bakugou watched as Deku sank back into the water from where he had been halfway out of it. He had seen almost everything, soaked and warm and dripping. And Deku could tell it too, because when he got back in, he tried to hide himself as much as humanly possible. “Just. Quit spazzing out!” Bakugou finally snarled.

The storm had eased off when they went to bed (after the futons had been dragged so far apart that Bakugou was practically pressed into the wall), but the rain provided a gentle percussion against the roof. He waited for the sound of the drops to lull him to sleep, but somehow through it, he could still make out Deku’s soft breath...in and out...in and out…

Lightning flashed for the first time in over an hour and of course it made a perfect pattern across Deku’s shoulder where he slept, the yukata opened and revealing the line of muscle from arm to neck to his face. His fingers were balled up under his cheek and he made a little noise like a cat sleeping and Bakugou became dead certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that this would be what killed him. Not a villain, but the sight of sleeping, stupid Deku.

After another period of restlessness, he kicked the futon covers away and tip-toed out of the room as quietly as possible. When he wandered into the open room overlooking the woods beyond, he made his way to one of the chairs and gazed out into the wet world beyond. Compared to the dark bedroom, it was so light, so easy to see everything.

He collapsed into one of the chairs and breathed a long sigh. Maybe he would just get exhausted enough that he could wander back in and pass out. But in the meanwhile...what the fuck was he supposed to do?

Mess with his phone? Nope. He left it in the bedroom. It was dead to him.

Read a book? If he turned on a light, Deku would immediately come sprinting out trying to find out what was going on.

Deku…

Bakugou glanced down his own yukata to his spread thighs. He couldn’t do...that...could he? Well, why the hell not? He was sitting here alone...maybe it would help release some of the tension that refused to leave. And as soon as his mind asked, ‘what if Deku came out?’ the suggestion gave way to detailed fantasy.

Reaching down, he started rubbing the outline of his cock, staying over the dense garment.

Deku, coming out, trying to talk to him, ask him what he was doing. “What the fuck does it look like?” Bakugou asks, cock already in hand. Deku wants to help, and he says so, and Bakugou juts his chin at him. “Sure. About time we find something useful to do with that mouth of yours.”

(Would he seriously say something like that? No, of course he wouldn’t. Well, maybe, but not a first time like that. Shit, what would he do? Ugh, stop thinking so much, you’re ruining it.)

He wanders over, and Bakugou reaches out to smack the other side of the yukata open so it falls down his arm. It’s hanging off him, only covering him from the waist down. “On your knees, Deku.”

Bakugou gasped, reaching in to get to his briefs so he could get a better rub. Harder this time. His cock was hard and full, rising in his hand.

Deku sinks down. Those wide eyes are on his as he tentatively give his dick a lick, dragging his lips up to the head. “Does it taste good?” Bakugou asks, and he nods weakly, nervously, and he sucks at the head softly.

He had to get it out. He had to get it into his hand. Bakugou fumbled the yukata open and guided his erection through the opening of his briefs, stroking it in a long pull and rubbing the tip with his thumb. Even with his soft fingers, it wasn’t like what Deku’s mouth would be like, sucking him, kissing him, licking him…

“Kacchan…” he moans, arms going around his middle. Bakugou allows himself the opportunity to get a hand into the mess of his hair and bring him in.

“Open. Nice and wide.”

It didn’t really sound like his voice, in his mind, but that didn’t matter. Now, Bakugou jerked and fucked himself with his hand, biting his lip to keep quiet even though he was satisfied that the steady rain would mask the sound of rubbing in the darkness.

He's got him down his throat, the perfect amount of plush lips, giving tongue and tightness. He makes a ring with his thumb and forefinger, then adds the middle one too. As he's blowing him Deku is also rubbing up and down with steady, firm touches.

"More. Faster."

Deku chokes a little bit when he pushes down on the back of his head, not entirely meaning to but also not exactly restraining himself either.

Close. So close.

Bakugou barely had time to move the robe out of the way before he came in his hand, strings coating his fingers and down his knuckles. It dripped onto his thighs as well and he sank down into the chair to try and keep it from touching the seat.

"Deku." It was like the name was pushed out by the force of a wave of pleasure. He squeezed his cock, milking it as he pulled. "Deku…"

If not for the sudden illumination of the room as the lightning broke, he might have gone on like that and never realized that he wasn't alone. In the doorway, half behind the panel, he could now see the form of Deku that stared at him across the floor. He was holding his yukata shut, and their eyes met.

Bakugou didn't move. He didn't breathe. It was too late for any of that because surely he had seen it all. If he yelled at him, it would be an acknowledgement that he wouldn't be able to take back. There would be no pretending that this didn't actually happen, that Deku hadn't caught him with his cock in his hand and his name on his lips.

So instead he sat and waited for the quick pattern of slippered feet to return to the bedroom and go silent. Then, he cleaned up, closed his robe and returned to his own futon.

The last thing that he thought about as he drifted into unconsciousness was whether it was just his imagination, or if Deku was hard too.

---

Breakfast couldn't have been more awkward if they tried.

"My my, what a long storm last night!" The hot spring owner's wife came to bring them their breakfast the next morning with their baby bundled against her chest. They were capybaras too, and if not for the difference in her voice they might have confused her for him. "I do hope that you both slept well even despite the noise."

They shared a mumbled confirmation while stuffing rice, pickled vegetables, miso soup and omelets in their mouths.

"My husband was up at dawn to clean out the springs. You'll find them all ready for you as soon as you're done eating."

The only sound was a soft wheeking noise from the baby, and the open and close of the door as she let herself out.

Well. There was no point in being coy now. Without a word to Deku, Bakugou got up and walked to the undressing room, peeling his yukata off and letting it drop to the floor. If anything, this part should be easy shouldn't it? It wouldn't be any different from any other shower that they shared over the years. As long as they didn't say anything about what had happened the night before, there wouldn't be any bloodshed.

He could feel Deku behind him. That’s right. No eye contact, no talking, and definitely no physical contact.

He slid the door open to the shower and the bath beyond.

...only to find there was only one washing station and a long stool. Obviously to be shared.

“...oh,” Deku said behind him, the first thing that had actually been spoken out loud all morning. In the corner of Bakugou’s peripheral vision, he could see that the dumbass was already naked too, rubbing his chin. They couldn’t use the showers on the opposite side of the guesthouse and track water across the tatami floor. “I guess we could take turns but...um...what if we run out of hot water?”

Bakugou glared at him. “Did you just fucking say ‘what if we run out of hot water’ at a hot spring?”

“It’s a different kind of water connected to an outdoor onsen!” Deku was blushing again, waving his hands frantically. “I just mean that I wouldn’t want you to end up cold, or--”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t go first?!”

Once again, they were at an impasse: on one side of all this, Bakugou knew that if he pushed enough, Deku would just leave and wait to get a turn in the bath. But then, once more, that would be an admission of what had happened the night before, and that what had happened had meant something, and…

That wasn’t acceptable. Not at all.

“Come on, you fucking dork.” Deku yelped as Bakugou grabbed his arm and pulled him in, pushing him down until he sat on the bench. He sank down next to him, picking up the bucket beside Deku and emptying it over his head. This time, Deku shrieked. “Don’t be a baby!”

“It’s cold!!”

“That’s the point!”

Then Deku did something he never would have done when they were younger: he laughed, reached past Bakugou, stole his bucket and splashed the whole thing on him. Not over his head, which was the appropriate way, but in a full body splash that immediately woke up every nerve on his stomach and chest. “How do you like it, huh?!”

“I’ll kill you!”

That was it. They were supposed to be awkwardly cleaning each other, and instead, Bakugou tackled Deku off the stool, sending him falling onto the now slippery, wet floor. “Kacchan! Don’t! We’re supposed to be getting clean!”

“Don’t laugh at me! You started this!” Was Bakugou laughing? He was. He didn’t know why, he should have been pissed, that was just usually how this all went, but...maybe it was the fact that this was happening, that it had shattered through the tension, but it felt more like a relief than anything else.

“You literally started it!!” Deku howled when Bakugou grabbed at his side under his armpit, a spot he knew was ticklish. “Kacchan, stop!”

“Not until you admit I’m number one!”

“You know we’re tied in the ranks!!”

“Fuck your tie!” He was smiling so hard that his face hurt, and then Deku’s skin crackled with an energy just below the surface. That was something he wasn’t ready for, not until after Deku rolled him, pinning his wrists to the floor.

They both breathed hard, panting.

Staring.

Bakugou’s hair was still mostly dry, but Deku’s was hanging in his face, a piece in his eye. The thumb of one hand rubbed the center of Bakugou’s palm, and he didn’t even slap it away.

“Don’t use your shitty quirk on me,” Bakugou growled at him.

“It’s not shitty, and you know it.”

“Hmph.” They should stop this. They were going to do something they were going to regret. Or Bakugou, for sure. And yet...looking up at Deku like this...it was such the opposite of what it was like imagining him the night before. “What’re you going to do? Just fucking stare at me?”

“No!”

“Then don’t be a damn quitter.” Bakugou tipped his head up at him, narrowing his red, angry eyes. This could go two ways, and he damn well knew it. If Deku let him up, he’d probably punch him or something and go back to getting lathered up for the bath. If he didn’t, well...it would depend, right? It would probably be the former option, anyway. Deku wouldn’t--

He kissed him.

Deku kissed him.

Hard. So hard he figured that he might joke later about how he may as well have yelled ‘smash!’ before doing it. But it didn’t suck. Far from it, in fact. It just seemed very...pent up. Held in and then released, suddenly, like something exploding.

That was something Bakugou could relate to.

Deku had gotten so into kissing him that he forgot about the hold on his hands almost entirely. It made it easy to get his hand on his face and push him back a little. “Fuck, ease up.” He did, but only for a second, nearly devouring his mouth again a second later. “Can I breathe for a second?! God, are you a fucking tween again?”

Deku pulled back, blinking as though he was just realizing what he was doing. He brought up an arm so he could push his face into the bend of it. “Oh my god, I didn’t even ask you first…”

“Uh, so?” He tried to pry the arm away, biting Deku’s nose for good measure. He completely ignored him.

“I should have! You...you might not have wanted it! Do you want it?” Bakugou had to chuckle because he was absolutely beyond distressed.

Do you think I’m going to jerk off thinking about someone I would mind kissing me? That’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t. He took Deku’s cheeks in his hands and glowered up at him. “If I didn’t want you to do it, I would have stopped you before you did it. You would have known. I just also need you to not smother me, you idiot.”

Deku seemed to calm down a little, so he leaned up to kiss him, trapping his lip between his for a moment and tugging it. Despite how close their faces were, he could tell he had that shaky, nervous smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, Kacchan. I’ve wanted to do more than that, too, but I thought you’d freak out and kill me.”

“Still might. Undecided.”

“And...honestly I thought after last night, you wouldn’t even get near me again…”

Bakugou sighed. Well, that clearly wasn’t going to matter as much now, though the shame hit his insides the same way the cold water had hit his skin. “Fucking voyeur…”

“Kacchan! Don’t call me that!”

“How long were you even standing there, huh?” He pushed Deku up and off of him, then immediately pulled him back to the stool. “Obviously long enough…”

“I was worried!” Deku put his hands over his lap as Bakugou turned on the water, finally wetting his hair and giving Deku a fresh wash too. Goosebumps had raised over his flesh, and he rubbed them away like dirt. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“Uh-huh.” He picked up a bottle of soap and squirted some of the rich blue liquid into his hand. As he lathered himself up, he glanced over and realized Deku hadn’t moved, so he gave him a push. “Come on. The sooner we clean off the sooner we can get in the bath.”

“I-I can’t yet.” He pressed his hands down harder, and pulled back when Bakugou grabbed his wrist. “Don’t!”

“We just made out on the floor and you caught me masturbating, you nerd! I don’t care about seeing your dick!” Bakugou pinched one of Deku’s nipples (hard, he noticed, alert), and his fingers flailed up to stop him, revealing his cock.

His. Rather hard. Cock.

“Sorry!!” Deku covered his face all over again, this time with his hands. “I’m...god, I’m really sensitive, okay?”

“Obviously, if a kiss gets you going that much.” He didn’t answer, clearly not knowing what to do about the situation. And to be fair, neither did Bakugou really. Fantasizing and kissing was one thing. And they didn’t have lube, and he certainly wasn’t going to put soap up his ass and have it get irritated, so. “C’mere.”

“W-what?” Bakugou didn’t really give Deku much choice as he scooped him up and put him in his lap. Rinsing his hand off, he reached between them and took hold of Deku’s erection, around the shaft in a firm hold. “K-Kacchan--”

“Relax.” He pulled his head down the few inches by the back of the neck, and this time he could actually pinpoint the moment Deku melted at the contact of their lips touching. He seemed to let Bakugou lead the kiss this time, and when his tongue made its way into Deku’s mouth, he noticed the perfect twitch of his cock.

Deku whimpered. “It feels so good…”

“Yeah?” Bakugou glanced down. Deku had a pretty satisfying-looking cock, actually. It seemed like it fit him. Not too big, not too small. Just right. And his dark green pubes were cute. Not that he hadn’t seen them before, but definitely not this close. When he pulled upward, Deku moaned, a bead of pre appearing at his hole as he wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s shoulders.

“I’m not...too heavy...right?”

“Seriously? Of course you’re not. I’m not that fucking weak.” Bakugou tipped his head to kiss Deku’s neck, and that got a fresh, new sound all its own. He chuckled again. “You really are sensitive…”

He didn’t bother arguing with him over it. Instead, Deku’s hips jumped a bit, and he inclined his throat just so. “More…”

There wasn’t any telling which he wanted more of, but Bakugou guessed that it was quite probably both, so he gave it to him. His teeth skimmed his pulse, sucking at his jaw liberally while he moved his hand quicker. Deku wiggled, toes cracking as they curled. His moans got higher, gasping eagerly.

“Kacchan...Kacchan…” Now, Bakugou moaned as Deku gripped his hair at the roots, holding on for dear life (or so it absolutely felt). “Kacchan--!”

It was probably a good thing that Bakugou had been forced into having his face up because when Deku came, it was like a small geyser exploding. His spunk went everywhere, splashing on Bakugou’s hand and more on his chest, on Deku’s stomach, even on the underside of his chin. “Fuck, Deku…”

“Mmm…” His head fell heavily on Bakugou’s shoulder. “That was...ahhh…”

“‘Ahhh’ huh?” Bakugou frowned down at his own cock, which, although coated in come, was untouched and now angrily standing up at him.

Deku quickly noticed too. “Oh, Kacchan, do you want me to...um...I don’t mind helping.”

“That right?” Bakugou smirked, but considered it for a moment. If Deku treated handjobs or blowjobs like he did kissing, he would probably spend more time telling him what to do than actually enjoying it. Then, when an aftershock made Deku’s legs squeeze around his thighs, he got a different idea. “On the floor. All fours, but...face the other way.”

Deku glanced up, like he was trying to see if Bakugou was serious. When he saw how he had locked his jaw - it had taken a certain degree of steeling himself to make the request, not nearly as easy as Pornstar Bakugou in his fantasy - his eyes got a bit bigger. Eager. Careful so he wouldn’t fall on his face, he lowered himself to the floor, getting on his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder. “L-like this?”

Bakugou nodded, swallowing. Like this. Because like this he could see everything: Deku’s round cheeks, his hole, the slope of his back. And most importantly, at least for right now, his soft, full thighs. “Relax your legs, but once I move in, keep ‘em tight.”

“Uh...okay.” Deku didn’t sound particularly certain, but Bakugou had a feeling he would get the idea quickly once he took a hold of each leg, opening them just enough to where he could slot his cock between them. “Ah!”

“Okay?” Bakugou watched the warm red rise all the way up to the tips of Deku’s ears. “Deku?”

“Y-yeah. It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s good. I’m good. I’m fine,” he rambled, but as Bakugou suspected, he tightened his legs up around his dick. “Does this feel good for you?”

Bakugou nodded and started shallowly thrusting his hips, settling into a steady rhythm. He moaned at how good it felt, in fact, and it made him wonder: if Deku’s thighs felt this amazing, what would it be like to be inside of him?

“Fuck…” he groaned, grabbing Deku’s ass and kneading it with both hands. “Mmmm…”

Deku dropped his head onto his hands, panting audibly. It was like fucking him in every way except the, well, technical aspects. Bakugou shuddered when he felt small fingertips touch the head of his cock when he pressed it in deeper.

“What? Have you wanted...ah...to do this forever, too?” Bakugou teased, giving one cheek a little slap.

“S-something like it.” Then he buried his face into his arms again, and Bakugou wondered if he had given that much thought before he said it.

He continued to press on, thrusting. How could Deku’s legs be both so achingly soft and supple but possess the power of thousands of kicks while he had trained his legs for all those years since they were teens? Shit, even thinking about getting to press his face between them was enough to make him feel a little too heady...too excited…

Bakugou choked as he came suddenly into the cavern between Deku’s legs. It coated them easily, as well as the floor under Deku. It was a little perfect that they had opted to do this here, though, where everything could wash away down the drain. Deku looked so shaky that Bakugou scooped him back up to sit on the stool, in case he was about to collapse. “Don’t fucking pass out on me.”

“I’m not, I just...um…”

Bakugou’s eyes cut down at Deku’s cock. It was hard to explain it but it seemed to be...straining? Bobbing? “...did you just come again?” Deku went completely silent, and Bakugou couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his mouth. “You’re going to be fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Kacchan!”

Once they were actually suitably washed and rinsed, they both collapsed onto the sitting stones around the bath. Bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he had needed a long, satisfying soak so badly...and he certainly never would have thought it would be shared with his hand lazily holding Deku’s beneath the surface.

All around them, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees and the birds singing made it seem almost a little too domestic, a little too picturesque for his liking. But after what they just did, Bakugou was too tired to actually break the moment.

...except when he felt Deku staring at him from his side.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that,” he mumbled. “You’re all...gushy and stuff.”

“I’m not gushy. I just...I didn’t really see it coming, is all.” Deku took his hand back so when he dipped his hair into the warm water, he could push it out of his face. The curls still rebelled, though, springing around his face.

“Don’t do that either.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Ugh.” Bakugou floated away from the side of the bath, picking up one of Deku’s feet and kneading it with his fingers. “It’s gross.” How cute you’re being. I’m not used to it.

Deku groaned, leaning his head back and spreading his arm on either side of himself. Bakugou methodically found all the knots in his foot, where the heel had been pulled a little too tight, where the ball was tense. He told himself it was just because he needed something to do with his hands, that if left to his own devices he would end up doing something inappropriate. Again.

Or, worse, they would just keep cuddling and shit.

“That feels so good,” Deku asked, puffing a breath across the steaming water. “Where did you learn to do this kind of thing?”

“Do you remember our fight with All Might? During our exams?” Deku nodded. “It wasn’t the first time I felt the toll my quirk had on my muscles, but it kind of fucking drove the point home. So I did a lot of reading after that to make sure I was giving them the attention they needed. Didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“But-- bbllrgh .” Deku’s mouth dropped into the water as Bakugou abruptly picked up the other one and started working on it too. “But Recovery Girl was there. She could have gotten you someone to help.”

Bakugou’s eyes cut through the haze over the top of the bath. “I didn’t want someone else to help. I didn’t need to rely on someone else. And I’m glad I started then, because I still don’t.”

Deku scooted forward until he was hovering near him. In the buoyant water, he lifted his free leg and wrapped it around Bakugou’s waist, effectively putting him back into his lap. “No one at all?” he asked, kissing the curve next to Bakugou’s nose.

With a snarl, Bakugou let go of the foot he had been massaging and yanked Deku in, fingers digging into his ass. “That’s not what this is. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

He didn’t reply, which was probably for the best. Bakugou still wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this, and as much as he could at one moment kiss Deku (or fuck his thighs, it seemed), there was still this itch below the surface that could result in him shoving him away just as quickly.

He nipped his ear instead, making Deku wince. “Ow, Kacchan.”

“Don’t be a fucking baby.” With a soft ‘hmm’ in his throat, he planted another bite just beside his Adam’s apple. It jumped along with the gasp that passed from Deku’s lips. “See? You like it.”

Another kiss. Not as desperate this time. “You’re so mean,” Deku whispered into his open mouth.

“Clearly you like that too.”

---

Once they had gotten out of the bath, dried off and gotten back into those yukatas, the lack of sleep from the night before combined with the deeply relaxing warmth of the hot spring made Bakugou realize how tired he was.

“I need a fucking nap. I’m about to pass out.”

“Drink some water first. So you stay hydrated.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, dammit.” Even as he said it, though, Bakugou grabbed the bottle of water Deku offered him from the mini fridge. They drank together, standing and looking out into the forest. Well, Deku drank. He did more staring. Staring, because as Deku took several large swallows, a trickle of water passed from the corner of his mouth and down his neck, where Bakugou had left a red spot during their...activities.

Deku blinked when he brought the bottle back down and wiped his face with his hand. “What?”

“Nothing.” He went back into the bedroom and laid down on the futon, closing his eyes and trying to get every constant image of Deku out of his mind, flipping on repeat through his brain.

He dreamed. Of course he did. It was rare that he didn’t dream. He asked someone once why that was the case, when so many others would mention sleepless nights, and the doctor explained that the explosive quality of his quirk, when also taken into context with his high IQ, meant that his synapses could be also firing off the same way that his physical body did.

Sometimes they were good dreams. Of him, as a hero, making the people around him proud and being told that he was Number One.

Other times, they were harder to deal with. Fights that he hadn’t won - the first one with Deku at UA, when he was captured by the League of Villains, Nabu Island - and fights that others had suffered through. All Might. Kirishima after the Overhaul mission.

And Deku. Several times.

And this time, too, there were images firing off of Deku breaking his body raw, breathing hard, blood dripping down his face and turning his hair darker. But instead of it making him feel the worry or stress - sometimes he woke up from the dreams on the edge of a panic attack and had to take one of the pills he kept near his bedside table - he found his dream self drawn in, and when Deku straightened himself and smiled, the last thing he remembered was his knees feeling just a little weak.

In fact, when he woke up, he thought maybe he was still dreaming. Because in the futon...he wasn’t alone. Not anymore, not like when he pulled the covers up around him. He could feel an arm around his middle, pulling him into another body behind him, and he stiffened at the realization that Deku was asleep too, steady breaths ruffling the back of his hair.

A part of him screamed, let go, let go, let go! But…

Also…

Deku didn’t just have an arm leisurely around his waist. He was clutching him, pulling him back until his spine lined up against his front. The other hand stroked his hair back, which had dried messily on his pillow. He could just barely feel his nose snuggled against the nape of his neck.

No one had ever held him like this. And it wasn’t like Bakugou had never slept with anyone else. There were definitely piles with the ‘squad’ that had happened at UA, and Kirishima slept better when he stayed the night in Bakugou’s dorm.

This…

Deku’s fingers brushed just under the waistline of his briefs in the folds of the yukata. That certainly woke him up entirely now, even though he could tell Deku was still passed out. What was worse, it also made him extremely aware of the tightness of the material around his dick…

That was fairly common too. Unfortunately. But normally he was either alone or he could get up and go take care of it in the bathroom. Or wait it out.

Not exactly an option at the present moment.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to go back to sleep. Deku rubbed up against his back. Against his ass.

He tried to imagine the grossest fights he faced over the years. Bad smells. Gross people too, like...Mineta and that laughing asshole from 1B. Deku hummed and nosed at his hairline. It sounded like he was smiling.

And then his hand moved further down, carding through Bakugou’s pubes in time with the hand playing with his hair. Bakugou swallowed, and it was only at the moment when he rested his fingers on Deku’s wrist did he feel him jump. The point where Deku woke up was punctuated by a gasp and blinking. The nerd was even loud when he blinked, of course he was, how could Bakugou expect anything different from how long his lashes were…

Their arms both trembled.

“K-kacchan?” he breathed.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have the moisture to do it in his throat, on his tongue.

Deku shifted a bit, and there was an accompanying bulge that pressed right between Bakugou’s asscheeks. It throbbed, that became evident, and Deku pressed just slightly in. There was still all the fabric between them, but nevertheless, the sensation of it forced a moan from the center of Bakugou’s chest.

“Y-you’re awake.” He sounded relieved, and his other hand - the one not still in his fucking pants - stroked a circle between his shoulders. There was no way this position was comfortable for him, but he probably had other things on his mind.

“Of course I am. Like I’d have much choice now not to be.” He rolled his hips, pressing back, and Deku groaned, his cheek on the side of his neck.

“D-did you want me to sto--”

“If you even finish that sentence, I’ll fucking kill you. Open your yukata, though. It’s rude to make someone else clean up your mess.”

“Right. Yeah.” It was hard for Bakugou to not go a little dizzy when Deku lifted the back of his yukata before opening his. It bunched at his waist as he listened to the sound of him clumsily tossing his own open at the front. They were both still very much clothed, but...it was out of the way, and that was what was important. “You’re so hot, Kacchan…”

“Nngh…” When Bakugou stuck his ass out, he could tell that Deku had freed his cock from his briefs. The wet tip of it soaked his underwear where it pressed, then rubbed lengthwise between his ass.

“I...I really didn’t mean to...you were making sounds in your sleep, and I thought…”

“I don’t care.” He grabbed Deku’s wrist and thrust it down until he had his cock and balls in his hand, and when he squeezed, his face pressed into his, clumsy and relying on instinct, a cattish gesture. Sandwiched now between Deku’s cock and his hand, playing with him, rubbing him this way and that, the last thing he wanted to do was think too much.

“It’s so good...you’re so good...Kacchan…you have the most perfect body, and I know you know that, but I just need you to know how much this means for me to get to do this, oh god, Kacchan…”

His first instinct was to tell him to shut up, but that didn’t actually come out. The way Deku was saying that, meaning it, genuine and real, it warmed him up. It felt good. Too good. It wasn’t praise the way they worded it in the magazines, or in the hero reports and profiles. There was more to it. And maybe the worst part about it was that he wanted him to tell him more but there was about as much chance of that happening as him admitting how it made his cock harder.

So he settled for just moaning his name while he reached up blindly to grip the back of his head. “Deku…”

Everything started blurring and becoming more frantic. Deku’s whole body was wiggling and moving, his hand clearly trying to squeeze and fondle and jerk in time with his hips. There was nothing graceful to this, and Bakugou didn’t care. Because in only a minute of the craze of their bodies moving, he reached down to press his cock against his belly, to keep the mess as contained as possible.

He was still coming, cross-eyed with bliss, when Deku yanked his briefs down and spilled all over his ass. “Ahh! Fuck!” Bakugou groaned as the feeling of thick wet coated his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if he was blushing from anger or arousal, certainly because that shouldn’t have been so fucking hot...especially not when Deku just pulled them back up. “The fuck, Deku…”

“I…” Deku choked a little, pressing his face into Bakugou’s hair. “I didn’t want it to get all over the futon!”

“We can change the sheets, you dumbass!”

“But you said--”

“I was worried about the yukatas! Those have to be hand-washed, you filthy...ugh, I can feel it everywhere!” He crawled out of the bed and headed gingerly to the bathroom. Absolutely fucking shameful. He rinsed his hands and removed his underwear, and he could see the shine of fluids on his cheeks. That...really should have bothered him as much as it did.

He still had his eyes on his reflection when Deku snuck in, arm slipping around his waist. He was biting his lip as their eyes met, and then he kissed his cheek. “Do you...want some help cleaning up?” he murmured.

Bakugou broke the contact between them first, snagging Deku’s arm as he stormed down the hall toward the shower. Again. “Damn right, you’re helping!”

“Kacchan! Don’t ruin the moment!”

“Shut up!”

---

“Kacchan, I’m so full…”

“Quit whining!”

Bakugou was not about to say that he too had been rendered fairly stuffed by the dinner they had that evening. It was like everything that they could have possibly liked brought out in a spread to their guest house: noodles of several spicy variations, katsudon, barbeque chicken that was cooked to the point it all but melted off the sticks, chiraishi…

And maybe Bakugou had finally relaxed a bit and warmed up one of the bottles of sake. They drank it slowly, savoring it, because it was definitely the best that they had ever had. Not that either of them were huge drinkers, but…

“Come on. Let’s finish the sake and have dessert in front of the television.” Bakugou picked up the bottle in one hand and two plates containing raindrop cakes, dusted with roasted soy bean flour and accompanied with a small circle of black sugar cane syrup. Bakugou had only ever heard of these before, and never thought he would get to try them.

“Can’t...move…”

Maybe it was the wine. It could have been making him too relaxed, or playful, or...whatever. Regardless, once the sake, cups and desserts were on the table in the TV room, he came back and scooped Deku off the floor. “Get going, you fucking wuss.”

Deku wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s neck, crying out. “Kacchan!”

“Chill out, I’m not going to fucking drop you. God.” Deku relaxed as he shook his head. “You overreact to everything…”

“Well, a few years ago, you would have dropped me,” he mumbled, cheek rubbing his. Bakugou pressed his mouth to it in something not quite a kiss.

“Yeah, well, a few years ago I wouldn’t have done any of the shit we’ve done today, so. It’s all firsts, okay?”

Deku nodded as he set him down on the couch beside him, an arm around his shoulders as he picked up the remote controller and turned on some mindless action movie about pirates. It was one he had seen before, but since it just started, it seemed like as good a choice as any to watch. Something to keep the silence from settling too heavily on top of them.

Not that his attention was on the movie so much, because the moment Deku picked up his cake and started eating it, he made it extremely hard to ignore. The way he so careful ate a tiny bite of it, nibbling just a bit of the crumbs with it and licking a drop of syrup off his finger. He could practically hear him taking mental notes on the consistency, the flavor…

Bakugou took a much bigger bite of it, all three components mixing on his tongue. It was unlike anything he had ever eaten.

“You just dig right in, huh?” Deku giggled. Obviously Bakugou wasn’t the only one getting distracted.

“You mean just because I’m not preparing an essay on agar agar?”

“Is that what this is?!”

“Oh my god, Deku. You bring ‘hopelessly cute’ to a fucking literal place.”

There he went, blushing again. Red and adorable, and that wasn’t a word Bakugou used for anything ever, and he cuddled up against him as they finally finished their desserts, then the sake too. The movie kept playing, but Bakugou could feel himself ignoring it, as he and Deku touched. Not in any dramatically sexual way - unlike the way they had several times that day - but...little things.

Playing with Deku’s curls between his fingers.

How Deku would rub at the inside of his wrist.

The way he would find his knee and trace around the bone, making Deku jerk reflexively and giggle.

When he would just barely hear Deku breathe in as he nosed his shoulder before leaning up to bump his cheek with his nose.

The credits started rolling slowly down the screen. “Do you want to watch something else?” Bakugou asked, even as he yawned.

“It sounds like you would fall asleep during it.”

He shrugged. In the end, he just turned off the television and got up. Even for him, it was a little early for bed. He could just play on his phone, read over the hero news…

But he stopped short when Deku took a hold of his sleeve. “Kacchan?”

“I’m not carrying you anywhere else, you lazy bastard,” he teased, though he did stop and look back at him. Deku’s cheeks were rosy from - from the sake? - and he chewed on his bottom lip. “What?”

“I...I want you.”

At first, he almost said that he had him. Then and there, and earlier in the day, too, in other ways, but...then Deku shrugged off half of his yukata, and it ended up down his arm, which he slid out of it, and then he pulled the sash off. So when Bakugou brought him up to his feet and he let go of his sleeve for a moment, the entire thing just fell to the floor.

“When did you take your underwear off?” Bakugou murmured into his temple as he allowed Deku to start disrobing him, untying it and letting it open to where he could move in and huddle against his chest.

“Before dinner,” he whispered. “I kept meaning to ask...while we were eating, and then after, and just now I thought that if I didn’t ask now…”

“...it wasn’t going to happen?” He trailed his mouth down the side of Deku’s cheek to his neck, then tipped his chin up to kiss him. In the dim light, he could make out how his chest rose and fell. His hands moved from the outside of his arms up to hold his face, forcing him to not to turn away.

“I just thought you wouldn’t want it or you’d get mad or it would make things weird…”

“Weirder than they already are?”

Deku gave him a little shake on the shoulders. “Kacchan, this is sex, though. And we literally just did...all the other things we did...just today. I thought you would feel like I was going too fast or something…”

“Do I seriously seem like the type who gives a shit about going fast?”

“But--eep!” Without any warning, Bakugou grabbed Deku’s waist and practically tossed him against his body, making him wrap his legs around him. “Hey!”

“Come on. We’re going to bed.” Bakugou smirked as his fingers found the crack of Deku’s ass and stroked up and down, walking to their room. Just the small touch made Deku keen. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous…”

“Don’t--mmm...don’t make fun, Kacchan…” He tightened his legs at his sides. “I haven’t really...you know.”

Once they were inside again and Deku was on his back, Bakugou hovering over him, he started looking around for something they could use. If Deku wanted to fuck, he was going to have to deal with him poking around in his bag. “You haven’t what?” he asked as he searched.

“...I mean, with a...I haven’t with a guy, so…”

Bakugou stopped and returned his attention to Deku just in time to see him covering his face with his pillow. “Wait, so then...what? You and Round Cheeks?!” There was barely a nod. Bakugou had to laugh. “Holy shit, Deku.”

“It was just a couple of times in third year!” He smacked him with the pillow. Bakugou grabbed it and threw it away. “And it’s not like I haven’t dated, I just never found anyone I really wanted to, that’s all. I’ve done...other stuff...obviously.”

“Obviously,” Bakugou teased as he finally found something that would do: a small bottle of mineral oil. He rolled it in his palm. For a moment, he wanted to ask, was it because they weren’t me? But, first of all, did he really want the answer? And how could he even say it without sounding like he had an ego the size of Japan? Despite how nervous he seemed to be, Bakugou could make out a huffiness in Deku’s face, and he leaned down to kiss his way from his navel to his lips. “Deku. It’s fine. Relax.”

Deku pulled him back down for another soft kiss, keeping his eyes closed as he whispered, “I just don’t want to suck at it.”

“You won’t. Trust me.” He smiled as he sat back up on his knees. “I’m going to be doing the hard part anyway, okay? Just stay like this.”

Nodding, it seemed like he was trying to figure out what to do with his hands, finally settling on letting one rest on his chest, the other a little under his face, which was turned and gazing down at Bakugou while he opened the oil and spread it on three fingers. Deku’s eyes followed as he brought his hand down between his legs and-- “Ahh!”

It was just one, and Bakugou wasn’t in a rush to add more. Deku’s ass was as tight as his thighs had been, and he carefully circled the inside of him with his middle finger. That alone had Deku writhing.

He was going to ask him if he was okay, but then he got his answer when a small, strangled ‘more’ passed Deku’s lips.

Okay. Fine.

Bakugou pulled his hand back and added his index finger, pressing both in now, a little deeper. Evidently, it was a damn good thing that they were doing this in this nice, private space for just the two of them, because if Deku had been vocal in the shower, he was already hollering in the bedroom in comparison. He gripped either side of the futon and the whole upper half of his body bent. “Kacchan...mmmmmohgod, Kacchan…”

“Feels good, huh?” he asked, rhetorically, enjoying the display of Deku’s body already enthralled on just two fingers. “Don’t come yet...I haven’t even really gotten into it.”

It was a lot to ask, given the stream of arousal that bounced up and down on Deku’s belly, pooling and creating a thick string around his belly button. “Please, Kacchan...please, please, please…”

“We’re seriously going to have to work on your stamina. It’s day one of training all over again.” This was fun. Not just the fingering, fantastic as it was, but also teasing Deku, making him shudder and ache for him.

The pleading was a nice touch too, he had to admit.

“Fuck me, Kacchan...I need it!” Bakugou crooked his fingers, sending Deku into a whole new series of conniptions. “Please, I can’t stand it! Fuck, fuck--!”

Bakugou pulled back. It gave Deku a chance to breathe (gasping for air like he was going to pass out on the spot) and for him to toss off the rest of his yukata while he got a good amount of oil on his dick. Had he ever actually even heard Deku say ‘fuck’ before? Not that he was as pure as the driven snow as many of the reporters liked to believe, but...he just wasn’t as crass as Bakugou or some of the other guys from school.

But then, no one had treated him the same way as Bakugou, so…

The moment he had climbed up on top of him, Deku sat up to kiss him, hard and needy, clinging for all he was worth and wrapping his legs up high so he was angled to take him in. Bakugou pressed forward, getting just his head in before he had to pause. “Relax…”

“I...I…” Could this really count to say he was fucking Deku incoherent, if he wasn’t even really fucking him yet? “Kacchan…!”

“Just ease up so I can get in. It’ll feel a lot better. Breathe with me.”

Deku nodded and forced himself to come down a little, and for a few seconds, they did just that: breathed in time, coming off from the high. It was something they were taught in a later class, because for kids just starting to learn to be heroes, they had to soak up the adrenaline as much as possible. But as they got older, they had to learn how to curb it, control it, come back from that shaky edge of too much all at once.

When he knew that Deku had unclenched just enough, he pushed through the resistance and was in, fully and completely. Then, he started moving, a steady pace, and this time, when Deku started moaning in his ear again, he did too, thrusting forward, bodies pressed together.

Deku scratched his back. That would be visible in the bath tomorrow…

Bakugou pulled his hair a little too much, and a few strands came out between his fingers. No one would really notice with what a mess it normally was…

They both bit each other. Bakugou probably just a little more than Deku, but he certainly got into it, especially when Bakugou made the comment about how fucking loud he was.

In the end of it, Bakugou pulled out. Not because he didn’t want to finish in Deku, but because he didn’t know how he felt about sharing the bath the next morning with him...full of him, still leaking, still feeling it. Fuck, even considering that made Bakugou come harder, gathering Deku in tight like he was only his to have.

Like he belonged to him.

Deku let him, and they fell asleep just like that, without moving.

---

“I guess it’s a good thing we gave ourselves time to enjoy the bath before we left,” Deku said sheepishly at Bakugou’s side in the hot spring. He was holding his hand again, smiling dopily.

“You should have pushed me off and I could have cleaned us up.” Fucking gross. God.

“No way!” He laughed and licked Bakugou’s cheek. “I liked it too much...and I liked how you felt on top of me, so...I didn’t want to spoil it, you know?”

“Tch.”

“Kacchan?”

“What?”

Deku was quiet for a second, threading his fingers between Bakugou’s. “When we go back to the agency and we’re around everyone again, it’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course it will be.” Bakugou squeezed. “And what are they going to say, huh? They know I’ll fucking destroy any of them who try to talk shit.”

“But also...what are we, exactly?” When Bakugou turned to him, Deku’s eyebrows were knotted at the center, like his answer meant way more to him than it should have, like it was a life or death situation and this...this was the entire world on the line. “Do you know…?”

Bakugou kissed that stupid furrow first, and then his dumb cheek, and his absolutely ridiculous smile that formed on his face. “You’re my partner, you idiot,” he said softly, not quite smiling so much as smirking. “That’s what you’ve always been, and that’s how it’s going to keep being. That’s not fucking changing. Get it?”

Deku grinned, latching himself onto his arm. “Got it.”

#my paperfics #boku no hero academia #bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #kacchan #deku #dirty paper #dirty paper warning #i hope you can see why the gif choice was relevant #'yes yes all of this shippy stuff happens BUT ALSO CAPYBARAS!!!'

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heartwoodventures · 4 years ago

Text

Where the Wind Blows

Falcon’s Nest. A modest hamlet located in the western highlands of Coerthas. A monochromatic world of ice and snow, of gray skies and bitter winds. A far cry from the idyllic, sun-drenched shores on which Heartwood had played mere suns earlier. Now, a trio met at the town’s central aetheryte, informed by a missive that Momori Mori, the odd lalafell who had agreed to help one of their own, had uncovered new information.

Arriving at the aetheryte, Aislinn burrowed deeper into the warmth of her jacket as she cast her gaze about the agreed upon meeting place. Spying Lumarto and Rolanda she wandered over and gave the miqo’te and au ra both a nod.

"Any sign of Momori yet?" she asked.

Lumarto stared at her, his hands brought together to try and retain some warmth. "I think she's comin' around shortly; it shouldn't be hard to spot anyone here at the Nest-- oh, see?" Luma said, pointing towards the welcomed sight.

The lalafell stepped out from behind the Aetheryte. She was lugging over a large, black contraption. Whatever it was, it was producing a lot of noise...and heat.

Aislinn followed his gaze and set sight on the business like lalafell. Her brow furrowed in confusion, however, as to what the woman could possibly be toting along with her. "Ahh." she stamped her feet against the frigid air. The trick was to keep moving, she had learned.

"Hello there. A bit jarring, to go from warm sands to blustering cold." Momori shivered.

"Yes, I never quite got used to these crystals... Glad you made it! What have you got with you there?" Rolanda asked as she pointed at the contraption Momori was lugging along.

"Takes some getting used to, but I'm sure it will feel natural after a while." Luma said, as he approached before staring down at the contraption. "I was just about to ask the same thing; it's radiating... heat? A heater?"

"Oh, this is..." Momori looked side to side. This area was too open for her. "Let's find somewhere more discrete to talk about it, yes? Follow me."

Aislinn slid a questioning glance to the others but then shrugged and followed along.

The lalafell led them down the ice-covered street and then down a darkened alley. Had the trio not been seasoned mercenaries, armed with all manner of weapons and devices, they might have been more concerned. This was the kind of thing that happened to unsuspecting victims in the less-than savory part of town right before they were set upon.

"Much better. Away from prying eyes." Momori slapped the hood of the black contraption. "This here...is an encryptor. Specifically, it will guard the messages that we send with these."

She turned and placed a device that vaguely resembled a linkpearl in each of their hands. It was larger than usual, and contained a lens on the front. Due to its size, it couldn’t fit in a person’s ear, but its clip suggested that it should be worn on one’s clothing.

"So precautions... I understand." Luma muttered a bit, gazing at the object in question before clipping it to the side of his collar; not in the way of his hood or neck. "Rather fancy device, isn't it?".

"Enctor. Sounds.. fancy" Roland clipped the device to her hip.

"Very fancy. You won't find these in the common markets." Momori replied.

Aislinn was clearly intrigued by the premise of the encryptor, turning the offered device this way and that in her hands. She wondered, after all this is said and done, if Momori would let her take one of these apart to see how it works. For now though, she clipped it to her coat.

"Three of you...That's good. A small party won't attract too much attention." Momori hummed to herself. "....Well, first and foremost, they look very nice on you all. Very fashionable."

Aislinn shot the lalafell a dubious look.

“These devices are known as aetheric snapshots. They're capable of recording both visual and aetheric information in high fidelity, which I can process later. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You're probably wondering why I have this.” Momori explained.

"It had crossed my mind." Aislinn replied. "Just what sort of trouble are you expecting us to run up against, here?"

"I suppose asking why you have this is the next step in deduction, yes." Luma stated, looking at the object on his collar before looking back to Momori. "Why do you have something like this?"

“Let's start at the beginning. Red Argos is here, somewhere. And they likely have us outgunned. A frontal assault would be suicide, and that's low on my list of favorite things." Momori began.

"Makes sense." Aislinn nodded.

Momori noddded back. “We don’t know where they’re holed up, what they’re doing in Coerthas, and what...or rather, if, Wyda is connected to all this. While rushing into a death trap with weapons drawn is still your prerogative, I’d propose we instead use today’s outing to collect intelligence, and work towards answers to our questions.”

"So is this based on speculation and not fact? Or is there something to go off of?" Luma asked, raising an eyebrow mildly.

"Fact. Seawolf pirates, members of Red Argos, have been spotted here. Going to and fro, up to no good. They're capable of razing entire villages, so..." Momori looked over the trio in front of her. "A sizeable crew. Not one to tussle with head on."

"Enough for a small squabble but not a full on fight? Sounds reasonable..." Lumarto admitted.

Momori nodded to Lumarto. "Exactly.”

Rolanda shared a look with Lumarto and Aislinn. "I just can't imagine Wyda being involved in something like that. We have to find out what's going on!"

Aislinn nodded in agreement with Rolanda. Despite what she knew of the Seawolf's trouble with missing time, she couldn’t really believe Wyda would be a pirate at any juncture. "No, seems completely out of character."

"Expand your imagination, as it IS a possibility. I would like to debrief you all on what I've uncovered so far. Some good, some bad." Momori countered. "Starting with Wyda. She has yet to say anything pertinent to Red Argos...But I believe her mind is compromised. Did you know she WAS part of a pirate crew? And that she claims to have no memory of this?”

Aislinn tipped her head. "How'd you come by that bit of information?"

Lumarto stared at the group while Momori spoke, resting his hand on his hip while she debriefed them. "Seems like something awful to forget..."

"One hears a lot in Aleport taverns. That, and some had much to say when presented with her bounty portrait." Momori replied.

Rolanda paused. "For my own part, I can only say we met recently and I don't know her past. But she did not seem to have the demeanor of a pirate to me."

Aislinn shared a glance with Lumarto. "I thought we agreed, it's not -her- portrait. For all we know those sods in the taverns are getting her confused with someone else."

Lumarto nodded to Aislinn's point. "Anyone could share a face, but rumors could spread like wild fire."

"True. There is a non-zero chance of her having an identical twin." Momori shrugged. "Just as there is a non-zero chance of Bahamut coming to roast us on the spot! Haha." She chuckled at her own joke, then cleared her throat. "Anyway."

Aislinn gave the lalafell a flat look. There was also a non-zero chance of Momori ending up headfirst in a snowbank by the time this was through. "Fine. Let's pretend she was a pirate. ‘Was’, being the operative word."

"Wyda..." Momori made air quotes as she said the name. "Used to be part of a pirate crew known as the 'Ruddy Hounds,' which disappeared over a year ago. After some matching, I determined that some ex-members of the Hounds are in Argos. These are sea pirates we're talking about. So unless they suddenly got an airship...AND learned to fly the thing..." Momori frowned.

Aislinn shrugged one shoulder. "Suppose that's also not unheard of."

"Or thought there would be no competition in a frozen tundra?" Luma remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes. That brings me to my next point. They don't seem concerned in coin, and only in 'booty.' Spoken booty, that is!" Another one of her godawful jokes. "They've kept up their kidnapping habits here. Three have gone missing in Coerthas."

What sort of pirates weren't interested in coin?

"To what end? Ransom? Trafficking?" Aislinn asked.

"If its Coerthas, it could be ransom; trying to take the coin of the wealthy for the exchange of the stolen?" Lumarto suggested.

"Perhaps. Though no victims have shown up in...the markets, so to speak. Nor have they reached out to anyone for ransom. Maybe it's their first time with this sort of thing." Momori stated.

"I'd guess the law is preoccupied, but that would be surprising if it had been someone of high class who had been kidnapped; they jumped at the chance to be saviours then." Lumarto all but snorted.

"No. But I do believe if we find the victims, we'll find Red Argos. I have some items here from the kidnapped victims, if that could help you in tracking them down.” Momori handed Lumarto a dirty sock, a ribbon, and a bracelet. "If somehow you're, like, a bloodhound. Lumarto, none of the kidnapped are particularly rich, which could explain the inaction."

Lumarto stared at the items. "So they aren't of high class... so people like ourselves are going to have to do the work; figures..." Luma said, looking back to Momori. "Do we have any idea of the age of those who had been stolen?"

"Two adults, one child." she answered.

"A family out of their house, mayhaps."

Aislinn eyed the belongings in Lumarto’s hands. "-Were- they related? Do we know?" she asked, looking back to Momori.

"Mother and child. The other adult wasn't related." Momori nodded. "You know what they say. A family that eats together, is..." She stopped. Perhaps it isn't time to joke around.

Rolanda narrowed her eyes at Momori. "No, probably not the time to joke..."

"There aren't many places to hide in Coerthas... it isn't like they can openly hole up in the city..." Luma thought, pacing slightly.

Aislinn shook her head. "No, you're right. More than likely, they're out holed up in one of the deserted villages around here."

Momori coughed. "I would like to bring up the reason I'm here.” Now seemed as good a time as any. “They've stolen an artifact known as 'The Helm' from me. A wheel of six spokes, decorated with six elementally aspected crystals at each end. If you happen to see it, I would be much obliged."

“I wish I could tell you what it does. Unfortunately, it has a reputation for being useless. The Helm was recovered between Doma and the Azim Steppe nearly fifty years ago. It was immediately recognized as being unworkable and incomplete, and thus spent decades as a royal, broken bauble. There are rumors that it was used as a toy at some point. As a flying disc for children.”

Lumarto stared for a moment at Momori. "So we are really going after this 'Helm', while on the side potentially uncovering and helping those who had been kidnapped?" Luma asked, crossing his arms.

Aislinn eyed Momori quietly for a moment. Something about that didn't sound right to her and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure she trusted the lalafell. She spoke neither one way or another on the matter of the 'Helm'.

"Well, it is why I'm here. And the kidnapped are to simply lead us to Red Argos, so that you may free your jailed companion." Momori replied. "The Helm being useless is a boon. You shadn't worry about anything crazy happening, outside of pirates and guns."

Aislinn let go a wry, humorless smile. "Somehow, I've never found that to be the case."

"What will we be doing now then for this? Surely not stand here with frost building up on our feet; do we have a location in mind for a search?" Lumarto said. The quicker they got moving, the better.

“Ah, of course not. But quickly, let me explain these devices.” Momori said, referring to one she held in her hand. “"If you see anything interesting, you can snap a photo of it with this. It can only hold one photo, so make it count. You can also safely communicate with each other, or me, through it. I won’t be joining in person since I’m just a civilian."

Aislinn took a closer look at her device, following along and making sure she understood it before they headed out.

"As for places to start looking, I have two leads. There’s an abandoned settlement that not many pass by - a potential hideout for the pirates. Secondly, herds of Steinbock have been on the move recently. Perhaps being spooked by increased activity from our pirates? It may be worth taking a look at their grazing grounds."

"I'd say the settlement personally... spooked steinbock could be anything from wild life territorial issues or mishaps with adventurers, so I wouldn't see that as anything to jump at." Luma said, glancing at the others. "What are your thoughts?"

Satisfied she understood how to work the new device, Aislinn looked up at Luma. "Can't say I know much about what will or won't spook a steinbock. But the settlement seems like a good place to start.”

Lumarto nodded.

"Why don't you test out your devices? Hope they aren't broken." Momori said.

Lumarto stared down at the object on his collar. "I'd rather not play around with something like this... just assume it does the job right and get down to business."

Unlike Lumarto, Aislinn took a moment to point the device at Rolanda, and hit the button. She had no problem messing with things to see if they'll break.

Rolanda struck a stunning pose when Aislinn pointed the pearl her way.

Referring back to the device, Aislinn gave a thumbs up. "Seems to be in order. Let’s head out."

The trio turned on their heels and left Momori to huddle in the alleyway next to the encryptor and listen for word of their excursion over the linkpearl. The three rode out and arrived at the settlement, finding it just as Momori had stated. The abandoned buildings sat, long frozen. A testament to an earlier time when the land around them was verdant and farmable. Now it lay buried under fulms of snow, likely never to see the light of day again. They landed at its fringes, and almost immediately heard a buzzing sound emanating from their clothing.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" Momori was calling through the linkpearls.

Rolanda slapped the pearl on her hip out of fear as it crackled suddenly to life. Its image shifts to one of pure white. "Dag nabbit.. lousy thing!"

Aislinn scanned the area as she dismounted and waved her carbuncle out of existence. She jolted a bit as the disembodied voice floated from her jacket. Luckily Lumarto responded so she didn’t have to.

Lumarto listened, cocking his head to a side upon hearing Momori's voice. "Aye its on. We've arrived at the settlement; its in tatters."

The Highlander continued to take stock of the settlement, looking for any sign of recent activity.

"At least it'll be hard to cover their tracks in snow?” she offered.

"On the contrary, the constant blizzards would pile their tracks up; so it might be difficult unless they’re fresh." Luma said to Aislinn, taking a few steps towards the buildings and gazing upon the structure.

He was right. Fresh snow covered any potential footprints and fallen items. At first glance, it simply appeared a lonely, cold wasteland. No sign of life or recent activity. But the three fanned out, determined to search anyroads.

With a hum of consideration, Aislinn wandered off towards the buildings on the north side of the settlement.

Rolanda dug through the rubble and found a small can of beans that appeared to be untouched. "Found some beans."

"Beans? Rolanda, focus. Now's not the time to be eating things off the floor." Momori’s voice crackled.

"Was there a fire here earlier?..." Luma spoke to himself, crouching down to gaze at the bottom near one of the doors on the building to the south, looking for any signs of ware-and-tear, or skid marks from the opening.

Across the way, Aislinn put a hand on the door of one of the buildings, it was cold from the outside, obviously. The building was made of solid, rough hewn rock, its door shut against the wind. But she focused on sensing any aetheric signature within. The cold, biting wind and stinging snow made it hard for her to concentrate. Maybe she felt something. It was ever so faint. She strained a bit harder, leaning against the door now but after a few moments longer, she shook her head and finally pushed away. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

Lumarto caught a whiff of gunpowder when he crouched down, wiping away the small layers of frost and revealing a trail of the stuff. "Where does this lead?..." the miqo’te muttered, pressing against the door as he stood up and began to pursue the trail.

As Aislinn moved to turn away from the northern building, she stopped again. No. There was definitely something. But as she glanced across the way, she caught sight of Luma’s form wandering off into the blowing snow. Splitting up in a blizzard when there might be pirates about sat ill at ease with her and so, she made to follow but Rolanda approached and stopped her.

"Hmm, I'm a bit of an expert on beans... and this can seems to be recently sealed, likely from nearby Limsa Lominsa. This could be a bean-clue." the au ra handed the can to Aislinn. "What do you think?"

Hesitating in her desire to follow after Lumarto, Aislinn looked at Rolanda and her beans. "Ahh." she paused and eyed the legumes in question, taking a moment to consider them.

"New....beans?" Momori sounded confused. "A ration by some travelers?"

"Does seem an odd thing to be here. And they look a lot more recent than the rest of this place. But...I can't say whether pirates or some hunter might have left them." the woman said with an apologetic look to Rolanda.

Rolanda nodded. "That conclusion seems logical. Perhaps someone traveled through here that came through Limsa first."

"Bring it back all the same. If it's irrelevant, we can split the beans fourway. Nothing like floor food to fill the gut." Momori advised.

Aislinn passed Rolanda a dry look. "Well...you heard the woman. Bring it along. It's either a clue or floor food." she turned to look for Luma but he was nowhere to be found. Her anxiety had just begun to rise when his voice came over the linkpearl.

"Beans are going to have to wait. You both might wanna check this out." Luma said, awaiting for them to join him.

They found him at the edge of a cliff behind one of the buildings, staring down into the gully below as Aislinn appeared behind him.

"Take a look at this." Luma said, pointing down towards the snow beneath the cliff.

Gazing down at the white snow; something odd protruded from it. Not the solid white of snow, of powder and the like-- an off white, bone. A skeleton had been off the cliff's edge and covered in snow. "That doesn't look fresh... it can't be any of the ones who were kidnapped..." Luma muttered.

"What is it? What's fresh?" With only voice communication, Momori wasn’t able to follow what was happening. "Something juicy?"

Aislinn followed his gaze, confused for a moment as she sought what he was pointing out. But then, all at once it took shape for her. A skeleton against the snow. "Nymeia's Blood." she swore softly. "We need to get closer. Try and see if we can ascertain how long it's been here. And, bring it back, if we can. No one should be left out here like that."

"Lumarto found a skeleton." she said into the device.

"You're right, but mind your step. I found Ceruleum here as well, so anything could be hidden beneath the snow or otherwise; I don't feel like that body is here unintentionally." Lumarto warned her.

"Ceruleum....That's odd. A popular fuel for garlean magitek, but...hm. Go forth with the utmost caution." Momori added.

Rolanda came up behind them, breathless. "Sorry the cold got to me for a moment there. Brought the beans."

With that, Luma carefully got some footing on the slope of the cliff, and slid down; his heels keeping a firm grip on the rock before taking a short leap onto the snow below; gazing just for a moment if there was anything else in question to see before moving forward.

Aislinn nodded in reply to the warning as she pulled a battered gemstone from her hip pack. Tossing it in the air, with a bit of calculated manipulation on her part, it became her carbuncle. She headed down to join Lumarto.

Rolanda pocketed the beans and looked down the cliff face. "Well, no time like the present! HUP!" and with that, began her way down.

"I don't see anything..." Luma said, as he approached the skeleton before kneeling down before it. "Does it look like an adult's frame? Child?" Luma asked, wanting the others’ opinion.

The wind suddenly picked up, revealing more frozen snow coated with a mixture of gunpowder and ceruleum. The way the ice had formed...signs of struggle. It was soon apparent the skeleton was that of an adult.

"I don't think I'm going to be eating these beans now.." Rolanda covered her mouth.

Aislinn knelt down and brushed some of the snow away from the skeleton, trying to get a clearer picture of it. As her hands grazed the bones, that familiar buzzing pressure started in her ears. Aether. A lot of it. She looked to Lumarto and Rolanda. "Ahh...help me move the bones. We'll have to pack them up and bring them back anyroads."

Lumarto shook his head at Rolanda "It's not about eating right no--" Luma paused, the sensation of fire aether causing the hairs on his back to stand on end; his tail to shoot up before nonchalantly returning to a rested state.

He shifted his attention to Aislinn, albeit with something else on his mind. "Wh-- ah, yeah...yeah..." Luma said, staring down at the skeleton and slowly taking bone by bone, his hands visibly hesitating with each time he reached towards that source of aether.

Rolanda nodded and bent down to help. Using her bow to dig out around the bones, she made them easier to pick up.

Aislinn slid a glance to Lumarto. Judging from his reaction, she wasn't the only one who noticed the aether. "You feel that too, aye?" she said, relieved it wasn't just her.

Lumarto stared at her, before quickly looking away to hide his gaze, still shaken. "Aye its... potent; and unpleasant..." he said, gazing down at the pieces of arm bone he had picked up; noticing an odd brand on it.

The aether burned brightest around the wrist bone he held. And the brand. A black mark, a crude symbol of the fire element surrounded by six intricate wings. Additionally, frozen flower petals resembling those of a lily, a light lavender color.

The aether seemed to seethe and he immediately dropped it, taking a sudden step back.

Aislinn startled a bit as the miqo'te dropped one of the bones as if it had burned him. Her eyes dart from him to the bone and back.

Just then, Momori’s voice broke the silence. "Sounds like you guys hit paydirt. Though a skeleton would be hard to bring back. Maybe bring back just what matters for now, and come back for the rest later?"

"Alright, there Lumarto?" Aislinn asked.

She leaned forward, reaching for the bone. Before she even touched it, she felt the aether coming from the strange symbol. "Ahh...this is where it's coming from." she sat back and spoke into the device.

"Right." She didn't like the idea of leaving the remains out here but Momori made sense.

Lumarto looked towards the skeleton and then up at Aislinn. "I'm... f-fine. I'm not good with fire; unpleasant memories..." Luma muttered, as his wobbly legs slowly attempted another step. "There is that symbol on its wrist, and it's almost like that in itself is an active fire crystal. It's important from the looks of it." Luma said, though hesitated in coming closer to the mark. "Can you retrieve it? Sending a picture for Momori would probably be ideal."

Aislinn pulled a cloth from her pack and reached for the bone, turning it about in the snow. "It has an odd symbol. -Burned- into the bone by the looks of it. I can't...done before or after death, I can't say." she said into the device. She nodded to Lumarto.

Rolanda didn’t notice any of this heat that everyone kept talking about. She reached down and grabbed a hold of the wrist bone. "Is this the one we need?"

"Aye, can you carry that back for us?" she asks the Au Ra. Truthfully, she didn't want to handle it either.

Lumarto nodded at that. With the Au Ra not realizing its potential and properties, it would be the safest bet. "Please carry it for us." Luma said without skipping a beat.

"It does not appear to affect me as it does all of you. I will happily transport it if it makes you all more comfortable." Rolanda shrugged.

Aislinn spared her a grateful look before eyeing the rest of the bones. "These...I suppose they'll have to wait."

"Well, if that's taken care off, I happen to have an odd...lead for you all." Momori's voice popped and crackled. "From where I'm at, I just saw an airship fly by. Garlean."

Garlean. Aislinn swiftly lifted her head to the skies.

"Is it headed anywhere this direction? Considering the ceruleum and all." Luma said, looking up at the sky while one hand was on his collar; his right hand gripping his sleeve to try and relieve some of the burning sensation.

"It was seen heading eastward. Odd thing about it, kept flashing in and out of view." Momori reported.

"Are you saying it was cloaking in some way, or hidden by the weather?" Luma asked, taking a few more steps towards the more open part of the cliff, trying to get a clearer look at the sky.

Aislinn looked back up the cliff in the direction of the building she had been inspecting. She couldn't shake the feeling there was something there. No matter how faint. She quietly continued to listen to the exchange between Lumarto and Momori.

"Potentially. If so, then their system must be broken...I was only able to spot it briefly and from afar, so I couldn't tell what they were using. "

"Copy that." Lumarto replied, turning to the group. "I'd say we try and look for things while we leave the premises; there is no telling if they are headed here or not." he said, glancing between the other two. "What say you both?"

"We should make haste to see if we can find this ship. If we can get there quickly, perhaps we can see if it is our culprits." Rolanda said, decisively

"If it was heading eastward from Falcon's Nest, it might head this way. But...I want to look at one of the building's up there. I sensed something coming from beyond it." Aislinn countered.

"I have a whale that can carry me quite swiftly. Perhaps I could take flight and see if I can get a snapshot of this ship - from a distance of course" Rolanda offered.

No one seemed surprised the au ra had a skywhale at her beckon call. Rolanda always had a trick up her sleeve.

Lumarto nodded to Aislinn. "Show us the building, and we'll see if there are any more leads before we get an unexpected arrival." Luma said, then held his hand to his collar, activating the pearl. "We're going to take a look at a lead from Aislinn before returning." Luma reported, turning to Rolanda. "If you could do so quietly and discreetly, then by all means; but don't take risks."

"Whatever you do, be careful. Don't want them pointing their guns at you." Momori voice crackled back in reply.

Aislinn seemed torn for a moment. "Alright...that seems best. But aye, as Lumarto says, be careful."

Rolanda nodded and called her skywhale down from the clouds. "Easy now, Eustice. We have to be stealthy today". She hopped on the back of her whale, and headed back into the clouds in search of the airship.

Aislinn led Luma back across the settlement to the building in question. She trailed her hand along its rough hewn facade as she moved away from the front. Her brow furrowed in concentration, as she tried to focus. "It feels like it's coming from behind the building." she said. "Do you feel anything?" she asked Lumarto as she moved along.

High in the sky above, Rolanda caught sight of the ship approaching from a distance. It appeared to be heading straight for them! She hurriedly snapped a photo with the linkpearl and then headed down to the rest of the party to warn them about the approaching ship.

"It does feel odd around here, I guess this place really does have something about it." Luma said, turning as he noticed Rolanda coming back from her pseudo-mission.

"The ship is headed this way! I'm not sure of its intentions, but I managed to get a linkpearl of it before I had to flee.”

Rolanda's announcement placed a sense of urgency in Aislinn that momentarily disrupted her concentration. "Right...okay. Let's be quick about this. Momori said we're outgunned and I don't want to be caught out like this."

Both Aislinn and Lumarto could feel it. Earth aether. Weak, but present, and foreign to the environment. The source coming from beyond the building, toward the rocky outcropping.

Aislinn wordlessly followed her senses, the world narrowing down to this aether and getting out. As they moved around a boulder, they found the source. Incredibly, it was a child! A young midlander girl, huddled against the rock and shivering.

A child was the last thing Aislinn expected to find. She rocked back a step in surprise. "I..oh!"

"Gods... how long has she been out here for?" Luma said, quickly approaching behind Aislinn before crouching down and getting a better look at the girl.

The girl weakly turned to look at Lumarto, and flinched, scrambling further into the rock. "I-I...you're not...one of them, are you?"

Aislinn quickly recovered and slowly reached out for the child but stopped, realizing that might be perceived as a threat. Instead, she turned to her device. "Momori, I think we find the child that was missing."

"One of them?..." Luma asked, looking at her expression, he finally put two and two together. "No, no no... me and these two were lucky enough to even find you shivering out here." Luma said, crouching down and holding his hand out slowly to the girl, keeping it steady to not show hostility. "Are you hurt? Hungry? Rolanda, get the beans." Luma said, his gaze darting to the Au Ra.

"Nice." Momori pauses. "She's an elezen, right?"

Rolanda pulled out the can. "Ah yes, the groun- uh.. er... the beans! Here you are."

Aislinn looked the girl over. "Ahh...no. She's a hyur."

The girl looked towards the can of beans, then at Luma. "You...you don't look like one of them." She quickly grabbed the beans and immediately tried to pry the can open. As she did so, they all saw it as plain as day. A tattoo. The mark of earth, surrounded by six wings.

Lumarto watched the girl, his heart aching. Being a father, he couldn't help but feel worry upon finding a girl here in the cold. He noticed the mark, and his eyes widened. "Here..." Luma said, carefully reaching for the can of beans and, using a knife from his hip, pried it open before handing it back to the girl. "Slowly-- don't choke."

The girl watched the miqo’te, stars in her eyes. However, despite his advice, she did in fact inhale those beans. As if on cue, a garlean airship touched down at the center of the abandoned settlement. From a distance, the trio could hear the sound of metal armor. “Come! We don’t have much time to find her,” a voice called from the distance.

Aislinn snapped her attention to the sound of the airship. "Right. Time to go." she murmured. She looked down at the girl. "Ready to head home?" she asks gently. "We're here to bring you back."

"I have a whale that could easily accommodate both of us" Rolanda said with a smile.

The girl's eyes widen and her head swiftly turned to stare at the docking airship. "Thass them! The bad guys." Her mouth is still stuffed full with beans.

Lumarto stared at Aislinn, and then to the girl; the state she was in, taking her home immediately sounded like a risk. "You're being... tracked, they are trying to find you?" Luma asked, carefully approaching the girl and removing one layer from his coat; covering the small girl in it.

Aislinn shot a glance at Lumarto. "We can't leave her here and at the end of all of this...." she inhaled. They had to move. Now. Debating the finer points of where the child would go could be done later. "We don't have time."

"I'm not saying to leave her here, but rather get her away before we ourselves get caught." Luma said, staring around at the group before looking back at the Garlean ship dock. "We need to go north like I said, and loop around back to Falcon's Nest."

From here, they could see several figures moving here and there in the settlement. They were searching fervently. Interestingly, there were those dressed in garlean armor mixed in with the Sea Wolves. A detail to be mulled over at another time.

Aislinn nodded quickly along with Lumarto, turning to keep an eye out as she groaned under her breath. "Right. Then are you reading to get away from here?"

"I can take the girl to safety and meet up with you afterwards. I can keep in touch with the link pearls." Rolanda said, calling the whale down once more.

Lumarto turned to Rolanda. "We can use the whale to head north and try to stay low before making our way to the nest; can it fit all four of us?" Luma asked, glancing down at the little girl. "You're going to be fine; we'll keep you safe. Go along with Rolanda and we'll meet with you in a bit, ok? Hopefully that coat keeps you warm."

Aislinn kept an eye out while Rolanda and Lumarto go about securing the child safely up on the whale.

The girl looked unsure, but then caught sight of someone coming around the corner. “It’s her!” Frightened, it’s enough to send the girl scrabbling to get onto the whale. Lumarto hurried after her with ease. Aislinn on the other hand…

Lumarto reached down from the whale to help Aislinn up. "Come on, we have to go now!" Luma stated, clearly not willing to simply abandon her.

The Sea Wolf who came around the corner of the building was Wyda. She was identical. She dashed towards the slowly embarking whale. Fists drawn to attack, sea foam hair whipped back from momentum.

Aislinn was momentarily caught off guard by the sight of the Wyda look alike and for a moment, it appeared as if she didn't even hear Lumarto urging her to get on. After a tense, stunned moment, she waves the whale off, signaling Rolanda to just go.

As the skywhale takes off, several other pirates and those donning garlean uniforms pour from around the corner of the building, ready to back up the Wyda look-alike. They began to fire their weapons at the whale.

The sound of gunfire snapped Aislinn back into motion. Slamming the snapshot function of the device to get a shot of the pirate angrily hurtling towards her, she then turned and ran for cover along the boulders that rimmed the settlement. In a rush, she tossed her battered gem into the sky and launched herself on the carbuncle that popped into existence.

The gunfire hit their mark! Several shots buried themselves in the whale’s belly, and it lurched to the side, losing altitude with a bellow.

"Eustice! nooo". Rolanda cried out. She pulled sharply on the reins, trying to get out of the line of fire.

The girl clung to Luma, holding on for dear life as the creature began to roll. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Aislinn cursed as she saw the great whale listing. Hurriedly reaching into her pack, she withdrew one of her incendiary nodes. Twisting the sphere to arm it, she hurls it down below in the midst of the pack of attackers.

The incendiary blossomed as it detonated, flames shooting forth across the white landscape. It provided a good distraction, and the firing squad below were suddenly more preoccupied with getting out of the way of the explosion. However, they were quick to regroup, and collect themselves, continuing to shoot. But Rolanda had managed to coax the whale higher into the sky, escaping the reach of the bullets below.

"Wow. Whatever you're doing, you better get out, stat." Momori's voice came out deadpan.

This bloody lalafell. Aislinn bit back a retort and simply, curtly answered. "On it."

Rolanda continued pulling up on the reins, aiming to get out of there as fast as possible and head back to safety.

"Head north and keep us under the bridge for some tics, we can't let them see us go back to the nest immediately!" Lumarto called out to the au ra while he held the girl safe.

Despite its injuries, the whale flew quickly through the sky, but they could all hear it...the roar of a magitek engine, somewhere behind them. Thankfully, in the blizzard, the noise eventually faded.

Aislinn and her carbuncle kept themselves in the shadow of the whale, turning back to peer through the blizzard. Hopefully they had lost them for good.

Lumarto sighed, glancing around. "That was reckless; we could have gotten into much worse if we didn't get out of there in time... but now they know a whale took the girl." he said, carefully releasing his hold on the little one. "You alright?" He asked her.

"Lots of people have whales right? ha ha.. ha.." Rolanda looked around worriedly. She hadn't noticed many whales around lately.

The girl opened an eye. “I...I’m alright. Ugh...” She keeled over slightly, in pain, and in conjunction with a strange light emanating from directly below them. The feeling of aether...moving. It was palpable to even those with the dullest senses.

"What the..." From under the whale, she leaned over her carbuncle to stare down below them. Whatever was causing this pressure in her head was strong. She drifted her mount lower to see if she could find the source.

Lumarto held his hand to his head, the other keeping the girl from falling off the whale. "Whatever it is, it's affecting us all... get us grounded."

Rolanda hurried to oblige, banking the whale into a shadowy ravine below with Aislinn in tow. Once back on solid ground, the group made their way out from the deep ravine where it opened onto what must have been, at one time, a lake bed. As they drew closer to the center of this opening...this Bed of Bones, they could see a figure brandishing something circular in its hands. Six burn spots are roasted into the icy floor, and a crowd of other figures - garleans and seawolves alike, are just behind the lone figure.

"What in the devils have we wandered into..." Rolanda whispered, trying to make herself small.

Lumarto gestured to everyone. "We're getting into something deep... lay low. Rolanda, you're the only one without a solid picture; take one here if anything stands out." Luma said, crouching down with the others.

Momori’s voice came out in a hush through the linkpearl. "There was an earthquake just now! And that light...did you see that?"

"I got a picture of the ship, I can replace it if we find something more useful here." Rolanda said, brandishing her pearl.

"I'll try and take one if things seem rather... important. Though any of these moments seem like it." Luma said, keeping a hand near the pearl just in case he needs to snap a quick one.

They watched as the central figure spun the artifact, as though it were a ship’s wheel. Six lights, coming from the burn marks, dart about, then sink into the ground. A moment of silence, and then the wind coalesces, partitioned into even sections of highly concentrated aether.

Lumarto watched as the figure used the artifact with ease; then he recalled Momori's words. Something of a disc, 6 points; it fit the description oddly enough. "I'm going to step closer for a picture..." Luma said, carefully setting the girl beside Aislinn before readying the pearl.

Aislinn watched the strange ritual without having one any idea as to what the purpose may have been. A summoning? But she recognized that artifact. The Helm Momori had described. Apparently not so useless after all. Why was she not surprised? As Lumarto set the girl beside her, she laid a comforting hand on the girl's arm.

From the sections of aether, wind sprites form, and with the unrelenting fury of Llymlaen herself, a great gale of wind blows. It was strong enough to knock the viewing party off their feet. Lumarto had clipped the enhanced linkpearl off his collar, aiming it at the figure as the artifact was beginning to spew aetheric wind around them. He snapped a photo of the impact, of the sprites forming around the group. Just as fast as the photo was taken, the wind shot him back towards his group; slamming against the rock behind them before falling to the snow. With a long exhale, he sighed. "Lets... Lets get out. This is getting dangerous.."

As Lumarto came hurtling back towards them, Aislinn pulled the girl towards her and leaned back out of the way, wincing as the miqo'te made landfall. But as he speaks, she let go a breath. He was battered, but alright. Nodding in agreement she speaks. "Aye, let's get this little one taken care of."

The garlean airship lifted off, and the cloaking device finally kicked in. After much flickering, it disappeared in a blur. Gone.

"Well, that was.. something! Is everyone alright?" Rolanda looked around at her windswept companions.

The girl seemed to be in a daze. She looked especially weak, and at this point was pretty much as active as a sack of popotos.

Lumarto coughed some. "I don't very much like the idea of being battered, so let's try and head back; I need a drink..." he said, offering the lightest chuckle to try and make light of the situation before looking to the small girl. "She needs to rest and a bed... lets return to the nest; carefully this time."

Arriving back at Falcon’s Nest, the exhausted trio found Momori right where they had left her, by the device, donning a headpiece. She turned to the party as they arrived. “Oh. Hi.”

Lumarto held a hand to his gut, clearly worn out a bit before taking a seat on the alley steps. "Gods, that's enough for today..." the miqo’te muttered.

Aislinn North let go a long exhalation by way of reply. She had the girl in her arms, giving Lumarto a chance to rest. She doesn't look like she entirely knows how to hold or comfort a child.

"Good to see everyone in one piece. And...this must be the child you picked up along the way." She makes an odd face at the girl, who is just. Collapsed in Aislinn’s arms.

The lalafell held out her hand. "If you could hand me the augmented linkpearls. I'll need to process the photos you took."

Lumarto held out the pearl, reluctant to budge from his spot. Aislinn knelt down to allow Momori to pluck the device from her coat.

"Thanks all. Hm, that child...You don't suppose you can keep her holed up at Heartwood for now? I haven't the faintest idea who she is, and I don't think she can tell us now." Momori said, observing the child at a distance, as if she were on exhibit.

Lumarto turned to Momo and then to Aislinn. "I'm sure we can, she needs someplace warm and a hot meal; my space at the house should be a decent place. I can feed her when I'm free too." Luma said, holding out his arms to Aislinn. "Give her here; I need my coat back later anyways."

"Good. Now, if there's anything else you need to give to me, I'd ask you to hand it over now. There is much for me to look into." the lalafell said briskly.

Aislinn’s instinct was to try and heal the child but recalling the aetheric brand, she was hesitant to add any of her own aetheric formulas to the mix. The girl appeared worn out. A warm bed and a few good meals should go a long way to helping her recover. She nodded to Lumarto and gingerly passed the child off to him.

“Ah yes, I nearly forgot, this strange bone that everyone said felt warm". Rolanda said as she handed over the wrist bone to Momori.

Lumarto nodded in kind to Aislinn, holding the girl close and making sure she was warm. Clearly he had experience with kids, her face looked pale, but her hands were warming up to the touch a bit. Upon seeing the bone that Rolanda held out once more, he flinched and looked away before making sure once more that the girl was fine.

“Very gross. Thank you.” Momori accepted the wrist bone. She paused. “...I will send payment in the mail after I have reviewed the footage you’ve brought back. Farewell for now.”

Rolanda seemed glad to be rid of the bone and linkpearl both. "Until next time." She glanced down at the child. "Let me know if you need anything for the child."

Lumarto stared at Aislinn, taking a moment to slowly stand as he held the girl carefully. "I'm going to take her back, but any help would be appreciated. I'll pearl you if need be." he said, carefully patting the little one. "See you back at the company."

"I'll head back with you." Aislinn said suddenly, falling into step with him.

Bones, artifacts, Garleans, and one lost child. For the immediate moment, they all had a lot to consider.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #ffxiv crystal rp #Heartwood plots #Into the Tempest #Lumarto Wetyios #Rolanda Deschain #Momori Mori #Aislinn North

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