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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

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A Dragon’s Bride

Dragon Prince! Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Fae Princess! Reader

Fanstasy AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 years old, you are not old enough to ride. Please exit the line and find another. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, soft to rough sex, light fluff. Characters are aged up, Bakugo and reader are the same age.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: So I had this idea after reading other fantasy AU fics, and I just really wanted a soft Bakugo. I know he’s an angry moody mf but idgaf aight? I didn’t wanna get super descriptive with the smut, just cause I wanted it to be more like ‘lovemaking’ than just sex, you feel me? Sorry if the pace is a little weird, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on this lmao. Anyway, here’s dragon boi Bakubitch.

Enjoy the read~

As the youngest daughter of the Fae King and Queen, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were put in an arranged marriage. Your eldest brother had taken his Fae wife and would ascend to the throne in due time, and your older sister had already been married off to the Elven Prince Shouto.

Despite knowing you’d need to marry for political ties, you hadn’t expected to be sent off quite so soon. Your 19th birthday had passed only a few days ago, and that was when the news was broken to you. You were to be married to the Dragon Prince Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be the Dragon King, for his parents had expressed their wish to step down as royals rather early for Dragons of their age.

The journey was rather long, even as you flew with your guards in a beeline to the lands of the Dragons. Throughout the weeklong trip your nerves were building and the mild fear settled into your bones. The Dragon Prince was infamous for his temper and short fuse, his anger always taken out specifically on Izuku Midoriya, the Fairy Prince from his childhood. Your kingdom had not tied itself with the Dragons in centuries, and this alliance meant the Fae’s history of stubborn seclusion and independence would begin to diminish. This was a mission you could not afford to fail.

The final night camping was the worst. Sleep seemed to fear you, and you tossed and turned, attempting to settle your nerves. But it was to no avail. The sky began to lighten into a dull gray, signaling the coming morning. The guard came to wake you up, and soon you were bathed and back in the sky. Not having slept was of no concern, you’d gone days without sleep before and were just fine.

By midday you’d reached the edge of the Dragon kingdom, and were landing in front of the mountain castle just before sundown. The castle was gorgeous on its own, the face of it being the only exposed piece of the structure with the rest of the castle buried inside the mountain itself. The entrance was large, a platform that no doubt acted as a landing pad for the royal Dragons. Warm light poured from the large arched doorway as the huge stone doors opened as you approached.

You were greeted by the King, Queen, and the Prince himself. You sank before them in a low curtsy, pitch black wings spread out and flattened to your sides in a display of reverence. The King and Queen themselves bowed their heads toward you as a sign of respect, and when the Prince looked away indifferently, the Queen forced the boy down into a bow by grabbing his head and shoving it down, leaving you shocked.

You were of lower rank than he, so there was no reason for him to bow his head to you. Noticing your confused state, the Dragon Queen spoke. “Rank is of little concern here, child. My son must learn a grain of respect if he is to be King.” With a small smile, you nod in understanding, too afraid to speak. Your nerves were bound to come through in your voice, and you refused to show signs of weakness in front of Dragons powerful as they.

Tonight was one of rest, and there were rooms for your royal guards to rest for the night before they had to make the journey back to Fae land. The Queen insisted you call upon a maid should you need anything, and personally escorted you to your room. Once alone, you took the time to bathe. A warm indoor spring was not something you were used to. Waterfalls were the bathing pools of choice in the Fae kingdom, though the warm water was welcome after your long journey. Soon you were in a nightgown and fast asleep in a warm bed of furs.

The next morning a maid came to wake you, and you were dressed by several handmaidens. The gown you wore was simple. A soft grey, long and flowing, with the fabric bunched at your shoulders in a sleeveless style and a low-cut back to accommodate your wings. You were escorted to the dining room, and you took the time to memorize parts of the castle.

The table itself was shorter than you expected, with only three seats on the longer sides and the usual single seats on the ends, already occupied by the King and Queen. Prince Katsuki sat to his mother’s right, and you were led to sit on her left, directly across from him. For the first time, you got a good look at the boy.

Unruly ash blonde hair framed his face, which was chiseled and defined. His deep red eyes seemed to burn and glow like embers, and you had to look away from the intensity of his gaze on you. Your eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of his arms and collarbones, the muscles rippling underneath. You’d be lying to say he wasn’t incredibly handsome.

Through breakfast the Queen asked about your kingdom and its customs, and personal questions on how you felt about this alliance. You gave simple answers, having been trained to respond to such questions. She then walked you through the day, explaining how you’d be spending a lot of time with Katsuki not only for today, but all the way up until the wedding, which was set to take place in six months. The Prince scoffed at the idea.

“Why the hell do I even need to marry her? Why can’t I go find someone I like? I’m sure she’d rather marry someone she likes.” The Queen let out a low growl that could only be from a Dragon, directed toward her son. Her voice boomed through the hall. “Hold your tongue, boy. This alliance is important to both our kingdoms. You’ll do well to remember that.” He went silent with a snarl. She then turned her attention to you with a soft smile, the harsh edge gone from her voice.

“My apologies, dear. He can be...difficult. I hope your union can teach him some humility as well as respect for others.” With a soft smile, you nod. “I understand, my Queen. I pray I am not a burden to the Prince.” She chuckles and shakes her head as if you’d said something extremely amusing. Breakfast was soon over and you were left to spend the day alone with Prince Katsuki.

It was a rather difficult day. The Prince refused to speak, only voicing any irritation or anger he had for something he’d noticed. You were mostly quiet, in fear of angering him and possibly spoiling the union. He didn’t address you at all, and most interaction was awkward, but that was to be expected. You didn’t know each other. The King and Queen left the kingdom on a trip that was to last up until the week of the wedding, leaving you alone in the castle with the prince.

The first few weeks were relatively the same, little conversation between you and the Prince, silent meals, him angrily grumbling about one thing or another. You began to wonder if this was how life was going to be with him. It’s been nearly four months now, and he only ever addressed you briefly when he commented on one thing or another, though he was less angry lately. Tonight you lay awake in bed, stressing over whether or not you’d end up ruining this alliance.

Sleep refused to come, and you decided rolling around in bed would do you no good. Silently, you stepped out of your room and padded through the castle aimlessly. Eventually you ended up on a lone balcony at the face of the castle, far above the entrance and off to the side, jutting out from the cliffside. The chill of the night air made gooseflesh pebble your skin, but you welcomed it. It had been a while since you’d flown.

Wrapping your night robe tight around your body and stretching your wings, you stood on the railing and leaned back, falling into the open air and sailing into the night sky. You missed the wind rushing past your feathers, whipping through your hair. It was cold, but it made you feel free and light, away from the pressure of the marriage and alliance. Little did you know a pair of red eyes were watching you from a more hidden balcony.

____

You were absolutely beautiful to him. Katsuki watched as you floated on the air. Your dark feathers barely catch the warm light from the castle, giving them a slight glint as they ruffled and moved. He watched as you darted up into the clouds, pulling your wings in and spiraling up through the thick barriers, then falling back downward with your wings stretched out below you.

You were mesmerizing, and he hated how quickly he’d grown fond of you. At first he thought you were some stuck up princess, like the Elf Prince Shouto Todoroki. But he was proven wrong rather quickly. You were intelligent, your opinions sound and logical, the complete opposite of him. He was rash and emotional, and he knew it. He soon came to respect you, though he couldn’t figure out how to speak to you for the life of him. He was always more a man of action. Words were not his forte.

But as he watched you in the night sky, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. He wanted to fly with you, to dance with you through the air. He wanted to touch you, your skin, your feathers, even your horns. He’d never seen a Fae before, only drawings from books. Though those images were put to shame next to you. Your grace seemed unmatched, even compared to his mother, who was just as rough around the edges as he was.

He’d be embarrassed to say he observed you more than he had intended to. The way you walked as if you were floating, how you held yourself around others. Your posture was regal, poised, and yet full of humility and compliance. You looked like you understood your place in this world, like you knew why you were supposed to marry a Dragon in an arranged marriage instead of being able to choose who you loved.

His thoughts drifted as he watched you, and he found himself wanting to fly with you more and more as time passed. Unlike you, he could sprout his wings whenever he wanted, and soon his large leathery wings were fully formed, ready to lift him from his perch. And that’s exactly what he did.

____

You were so distracted with the rushing wind you didn’t notice the figure approaching you until you felt the air whoosh behind you unnaturally. Swiftly, you turned, and found a pair of glowing red eyes focused on you. Both of you stayed there, flapping softly in the wind to keep steady. He was the first to break the silence.

“It’s a bit late for you to be flying, Princess.” His unusually soft tone of voice had heat rushing to your face. You sputtered out your response, partially from his words, partially from your nerves. “I, uh, I’m sorry, my Prince. I had no idea that…uhm… that I wasn’t allowed to fly this l-late.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, clearly amused. ‘Cute’ he thought to himself. “I didn’t say that, Princess. Just that it was rather late for you to be awake.” More heat flooded your face at his teasing tone.

He tilts his head, indicating for you to follow him, and he flits away, landing on the balcony you’d leapt off of. You were close behind, and landed next to him as his wings vanished into his back. A large hand was extended toward you and you took it, a bit hesitant, as he’d never engaged this much contact before. His warm hand enveloped yours, and he pulled you alongside him through the castle.

You cleared your throat quietly to speak. “Apologies, my Prince, but where are we going?” A small smirk graced his lips as he turned to you. “It’s a surprise, Princess. But I promise you’ll like it.” You gave a small nod and allowed him to guide you through the halls of the castle. He led you deep into the mountain, down corridors you hadn’t explored before, and soon you were walking down uncarved tunnels lit only by torches every few feet.

After a few minutes in the tunnels, the torches came to an abrupt stop, and you began to feel uneasy with the looming darkness. As if sensing your hesitation, the Prince turned and squeezed your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not dragging you to the dungeon.” His voice was playful, something you’d never heard from him before. Despite the mild discomfort of the underground depths, you trusted him and let him pull you into the darkness.

Once your eyes had adjusted, a faint glow came from somewhere further inward. He kept walking, further and further down the tunnel, and the glow consistently strengthened until you were sure you’d find the source behind each turn you took. Then he stopped, and turned to look at you over his shoulder. “You ready, Princess?” You nodded almost excitedly, and he pulled you with him around the corner. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

The source of the cool glow was a gigantic cavern, the walls and ground littered with white, green, blue, and purple crystals, all glowing in the darkness, illuminating the space. The high ceiling was dotted with them as well, almost mimicking the night sky. In the center was a deep pool that reflected the light, the crystalline water perfectly still and undisturbed. Your wings ruffled as you took in the sight before you, the reaction involuntary.

In your wonder, you failed to notice the Prince had disappeared from your side. He called out to you once he had sunk into the water, and your eyes snapped over to him, heat rushing to your face in the realisation that he was naked. He seemed to sense your shyness, and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Princess. Won’t you join me?” Slowly, you made your way over to the pool, eyes focused on the steam rising from the water, and away from the very naked Prince.

You sank down to your knees a few feet from him, your wings wrapping around you slightly. From the corner of your eye you could see his head tilt at you, and you were sure he was smirking at your flustered state. With an amused hum, he turned his body away from you, giving you privacy to undress and dip into the water. Once you were in, you settled onto the ledge and hugged your knees close to your chest, your wings hiding most of your body.

“Y-you can t-turn back around now, my Prince.” He shifted back to his original position, leaning against the edge of the natural pool and resting his arms up on the ledge, relaxing into the hot water. You were still a bit tense, not having been naked around a man before. His deep voice was playful as he spoke. “Relax, Princess. We’re to be married. I’ll see you eventually.” You could hear the teasing undertone and you hugged your knees in closer.

His eyes were now fixed on you. With a small sigh, he moved, and you squeaked as his arms wrapped under your wings and around your waist. He lifted you with ease, and positioned you to be straddled on his lap, face inches from his, strong arms holding you close. His eyes were glued to yours, and you couldn’t hold his gaze. It wasn’t the same intensity as the first time you’d looked at them. This time was a bit different, the burning in his eyes was not from anger.

A hand came up and cupped your cheek, shocking you from the gentle touch. His voice was just as gentle, soft as his eyes trailed over your features. “You’re beautiful, Princess.” Your wings puffed up slightly at his words, and his eyes snapped to them at the movement. “Can I touch them?” The question shocked you a bit, but you nodded, not trusting your voice.

The hand that was on your face reached out and pet your feathers, gliding down your wing gently. Nobody had really touched your wings other than you, and it was only to clean them. This was a new sensation, and your wings shook lightly as your shoulders tensed a bit. Katsuki’s ministrations froze, and his voice turned slightly serious. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “No, no of course not. It’s just...nobody has ever touched my wings before…” He seemed to relax at that. Still, his hand pulled away from your wing in favor of holding your waist. He held you closer, and your breath hitched slightly at the close proximity, your noses inches apart. His breath was warm on your face. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to hold you close like this, Princess.”

Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed a bit. “I’ll admit, Princess, you’d captured my attention rather quickly. I never quite knew how to talk to you. But I am impatient, and couldn’t wait to hold you.” You were giddy from his confession, and you leaned forward, burying your face into his neck and pressing your body into his.

Up until now, your focus had been on the marriage and the alliance and making sure it went well. But now, knowing it would work out, you allowed your feelings to come into play. From the beginning you’d been taken with the handsome Prince. Within the first month you were no doubt falling for him. His attitude and personality was rather brash, but he was never aggressive toward you. Sure, he didn’t speak to you, but his actions spoke much louder.

He was a gentleman more often than not, holding doors open, escorting you to and from meals, even occasionally gifting you gowns and jewelry. You’d kept your emotions in check, though you knew by now you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Now, his arms tightened around you and you breathed in each other’s scents. His fingers massaged the skin in between your wings, and your body shuddered. It felt...good. Really, really good. You mewled into his shoulder, enjoying the new sensation.

You could feel him smirk into your neck as his fingers dug into the fluffy feathers at the base of your wings. With a gasp, your wings extended out behind you and fluffed up, all the feathers ruffling as you pressed your body tighter to his. A warmth began to build in your abdomen and between your legs, and you squirmed a bit, unsure what the feeling was.

His hands released your feathers and gripped your hips with a low hiss. “Quit your squirming, Princess. I don’t think I can control myself right now.” His voice was deep, and slightly strained. You lifted your head to look in his eyes, and his pupils were dilating, red irises now small rings. “What do you mean, my Prince?” His eyebrows raised slightly before his lips curled into a smirk. He brought your hips down, grinding you down onto him.

That was when you felt it, his hardness rubbing against your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips and heat bloomed from your chest up to your cheeks. He watched as your pupils matched his, irises disappearing into blackness. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. When he finally let go you were both panting, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Angel. My Angel.”

His eyes burned into your own as he spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You barely managed to nod before his lips were on yours again, this time hungry and wild. His tongue prodded at your lips and you let them part, let him explore your cavern in a mess of tongue and teeth. Without breaking the kiss his hands grabbed your thighs and began to lift, and your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he lifted you both from the warm water and walked.

You had no idea where he was taking you until he leaned and placed you down on soft pelts. Surprised, you pulled away to look around. The bed was situated behind a mass of towering crystals, hidden from the entrance. The blue glow illuminated the blonde’s face as he hovered above you, highlighting his features. You took a moment to admire just how beautiful he is, before his lips were on yours again.

His hands wandered freely now, groping the flesh at your hips and thighs, fingers massaging the soft skin there as his lips trailed down your neck and along your collarbones and shoulders. A thick finger found its way to your dripping core, and you let out a gasp at the feeling. You’d never laid with a man before, however you had to learn how to please one through books. You wondered briefly if the Prince had any real experience, before your mind was brought back to the moment as his finger pushed into you.

It wasn’t painful, and the mewl you let out let the blonde know you enjoyed it. His tongue attacked your pert nipples as distraction as he pressed another thick digit at your entrance, pushing it into your tight walls. A hiss escaped you from the slight burn, the stretch something you weren’t used to. Nothing had ever been inside you like this, the feelings foreign but pleasurable all the same.

His fingers maneuvered inside you, scissoring and curling and pumping until you were a panting moaning mess beneath him. His thumb dipped down into your wetness before reaching up to rub at the little bundle of nerves, making you flinch with the sudden jolt of pleasure, your wet walls clamping down on his fingers. A tightness built quickly in your abdomen the longer he kept his ministrations, and he leaned up to whisper in your ear.

“I can feel you gripping me. Cum for me, sweet girl.” His mouth attached to your neck and sucked, adamant to leave a mark. It only took a few more moments for you to fall apart around the man’s fingers, legs and wings trembling, moans echoing through the cave. When you had come down from that high, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean, a deep groan pouring from his lips.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lines himself up with your core, grasping your hip in one hand. “Are you ready for me, Angel?” Grabbing at the furs underneath you, you nod. “I’m ready, my Prince.” Slowly, he pushes himself into you, panting and growling, jaw clenched hard. The stretch burns, but only slightly, and soon you’re moaning and mewling beneath him. Finally fully seated inside you, his head drops to your shoulder and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him.

His breath is hot, blooming over your shoulder and neck, lips and tongue attacking the skin there. He holds his hips still, flush against yours, giving you time to adjust to him. When your walls relax around him, he begins to pump into you, shallow thrusts grinding himself into your walls. As he moves, his hands crawl up your back, fingers tangling into the base of your wings and massaging gently, making you moan out and wrap your arms around his neck.

He keeps his pace steady, but you can hear the strain in his breathing and feel his jaw clenched tightly. He’s holding back, and you don’t want him to. “Please, don’t hold back. I want all of you, Katsuki.” His movements stilled, you never used his name before. Pulling back, he peered down into your eyes as your hands held his face.

“You can have all of me, Angel, if you’ll be mine.” You leaned up and kissed him sweetly, “I’m already yours, my King.” A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words, “Then you will have all of me.” He pulled his hips back and snapped back into you, setting a quick pace. Your breath came in pants and moans, the pleasure wracking through your body stealing the air from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cave, along with moans and growls and the smell of sex.

His arms held you tighter, fingers continuously digging into your feathers, lips latching onto your neck between heavy breaths. “Mine. My Angel, mine, mine. I love you my Angel.” You moaned out, your voice soft in his ear. “I love you my King. I’m yours, all yours forever.” His pace became erratic, and a hand came between your bodies to rub at the little nub between your folds. Only a few tight circles around it had you cumming and clamping down hard around his length, and he thrust into you hard.

A few more thrusts and he stilled himself, letting out a deep guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside you, holding your body tight to his. He rolled over, laying you on top of him without removing his length from you. Your wings stretched out behind you, falling limp at your sides once they were relaxed. Katsuki peppered kissed along your hairline, whispering sweet nothings as your breaths calmed.

After a long, comfortable silence, he spoke. “Are you alright, Angel?” You smiled and kissed at his chest. “Never better, my King.” He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “We should get back to the main castle. The maids will panic if we’re missing.” You giggled at the thought of the maids running around like headless chickens searching for the two of you. With a nod, you sat up, and he lifted you off of him.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed up, but your legs were weak and gave way to your weight. Katsuki caught you easily, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing. After bathing in the pool once more, you both dressed and he carried you with him to his chambers, and you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next couple months you spent nearly all your time together. You sit side by side during meals, talk regularly, and spend free time alone on a balcony or in the crystal cave. As you spend time with him, you notice things about him you never would have guessed before. He’s extremely perceptive, smarter than his angry demeanor would lead most to believe. He hates lying, hates secrets and deceit, which showed through when he explained why he was so against the arranged marriage at first.

The news was sprung on him only hours before you arrived, and he was angry that his parents had kept it secret from him. You noticed he was rather protective and liked skin contact, holding you tight to his body whenever he got the chance. He was thoughtful, his gifts were never useless, always something he was sure you would use and appreciate. Your favorite was the many custom jewels he had crafted for your horns. Some a delicate array of dainty silver chains and gems that glittered and swayed as you walked. Others golden wire, mimicking vines and leaves that twisted around and hugged your horns.

That was when you noticed his infatuation with your horns. He’d touch them often when your head was on his lap, tracing the intricate texture with his fingertips. He didn’t find them grotesque or intimidating like most others did, instead he found them beautiful and magical. He never tried to cover them, always adorning them with sparkling gems and glittering metal to accentuate the deep ebony.

He was curious, constantly asking questions about you, your home, and your customs. You grew to love the man more and more with every passing day, and as the wedding came and went you had no reserved feelings about the union. You loved Katsuki, the Dragon Prince, and he loved you, the Fae Princess. He was your King, and you were his Angel, and neither of you would have it any other way.

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gretchensinister · 3 years ago

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9 people I want to get to know better:

Tagged by @plush-anon and I am so glad for the procrastination opportunity

favourite colour: Purple! Anyway here’s something I may be misremembering from childhood. There was this VHS I had called Wee Sing In Sillyville and it was basically children’s songs connected with a loose plot about a land of colors (people wearing all of one color outfits, red, green, yellow, etc.) except that they didn’t get along with or talk to each other anymore and the character the story followed was trying to get them to get along again, I think? And most of the colors were big groups of people, but the Purple Lady was one old lady in an all-purple outfit and she was the only one who agreed with the main character that the colors should get along and work together again and I was like ‘wow wise old purple lady.’ (Also in this the main character was colorful at the beginning and then SOMETHING happened and all the colors in her outfit went away and IDK if the story said it but I KNEW she was DYING. And then all the color groups were like ‘oh no what do we do we liked her when she visited us’ and purple lady was like ‘you need to work together’ and they gave her colors back by tying pieces from their own outfits to main character’s outfit and then she came back to life and was colorful again. And the colors started talking to each other again. I think! I cannot emphasize enough that this was a preschool/kindergarten-aimed story/song collection of the kind that kids lose interest in quickly outside of that age group, so I don’t remember it that well! EXCEPT at some point as an adult I was hit by the memory of this like a ton of bricks, because I think this was my first example of “unifying the elements is the correct answer/these things should never have been separated in the first place” in a story. Before The Dark Crystal (also importantly purple…hmm [hmmmMMMmmmm—I mean—]) for sure. And then I wrote essentially an epic fantasy novel with that as a huge theme.

currently reading: 1) Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir—I hadn’t read anything else by him before and I love it? It’s for an SFF book club and I would never have picked it up if not for that because honestly I was making a lot of assumptions about what kind of science fiction by men gets popular and what kind of characters I’d see in such a book. Well, I was wrong. 2) Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey—Admittedly I’m only at the beginning of this one but there seems to be ‘some people are just better than others because of birth’ baked into the foundation of the story and I’M STRUGGLING. There’s also already been plenty of times when I have asked myself “why would you, a woman, write women like this?” Also epithets all over the place. But then again without the epithets I’m bombarded by apostrophes. (I’m sure in the past 54 years someone has said something like this but this is my OC F’lan, he rides a caramel custard colored dragon and everyone thinks he’s sweet and loves him.) 3) Dawnshard by Brandon Sanderson—I would call it bonus material for The Stormlight Archives. That series BTW is a massive page commitment so like, enter at your own risk? 4) Why Are Faggots So Afraid of Faggots? Flaming Challenges to Masculinity, Objectification, and the Desire to Conform edited by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore—Essays by a wide range of queer people with a wide range of relationships to masculinity, I recommend this to anyone who wants to understand more about the breadth of what queerness encompasses.

last song: Not sure what song I listened to last, but I currently have Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes stuck very completely in my head, so that’s what I’ll answer with.

last movie: Annihilation. I love this movie. This time watching it I was drawn to the way the person in the old camp who was taken over by fungus is positioned on the wall in one of those ambiguous martyrdom/ecstasy poses.

last series: Star Trek: TOS, which I only recently realized was available to borrow from the library. Get a library card and make sure you have something to play discs with, people. The library wants you to have access to as much free stuff as possible. Streaming services DON’T. Piracy is fine for big titles but the process of protecting my computer from viruses and/or removing a virus is something that’s an intimidating problem for me. Placing a library hold on a DVD is easy, legal, and free.

sweet, spicy or savoury: Savory, though it’s not as if I dislike the others. Speaking of savory things, though, here’s a very simple savory snack which may mark me as some kind of gremlin but anyway: There’s this stuff called Better Than Bouillon, which you can find at the grocery store with the other bouillon/stock/soups, it comes in a little jar and it’s like a bouillon paste, which you’re supposed to use like bouillon cubes. Well, get that, in the roasted vegetable flavor. Then butter a piece of bread really thickly, THEN take just a little Better Than Bouillon and use the butter knife to work it into the butter until it’s like the butter got a noticeable tan. SO savory. Don’t do this if you’re concerned about your salt intake tho.

coffee or tea: Coffee, for sure. It’s a treat and not an everyday thing for me, caffeine will reliably do things to my energy levels that I don’t want it to. You know, I think it might be the idea of a hot drink as a treat that makes me care less for tea? I can’t make a latte or a mocha at home, but in my area, home, chain coffee shop, independent coffee shop, any level of café or restaurant, any tea you get is going to be just the tea bag plonked in a cup of hot water. That doesn’t feel special! It means I have to decide when to take the tea bag out and then I have to deal with a wet tea bag and I don’t want this (no matter how fancy the tea bag is). I only want to be served tea by someone who knows significantly more about tea than I do.

And now to tag. I think I’ll tag my nine most recent followers that seem to be real. Who are you all? This blog is not cohesively themed these days. So:

@retrocolaslasher

@scrunkley

@zoeloveconvers99

@stardewfarmboy

@creativemachine

@magicalbloke

@capulet4t

@aferalsquirrel

@houseofflies

#rambling #meme #of course if you want to do this for fun just go right ahead

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asktheheirofslytherin · 3 years ago

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[ooc: how did you get into being Voldy? Was it for fun? I’m quite interested in knowing a rp’s irl and you can not answer if it makes you uncomfortable :)]

[ooc: Oooh, such a good question! I am totally cool with questions about my irl!

Also I apologize in advance bc this is going to get long, haha. Long story short - I kind of...fell into Lord Voldemort.

I was about 9 when I read CoS for the first time, and it was the first time that I can remember being introduced to a villain with a backstory. All my previous kiddie fantasy just had "the bad guy," or maybe a misguided dragon with a redemption arc, or a Draco level childhood nemesis. But this Tom Riddle guy - not only would there clearly be no redemption arc, but he had been a student, with a name and a childhood, and then he got super evil for some reason? Why? I'm also lowkey impressed - Riddle came from an orphanage, had shit going for him - but then he gets to go to Hogwarts. He was charismatic, popular, head boy.

I have social anxiety. By 9, I was having panic attacks already. I was being bullied. And I had this anger about it, this rage. (Seriously - I have an old diary from fifth grade where I write how everyone could go fuck the hell off). Tom Riddle - he managed to command some respect despite his background. He became something of a role model.

And then a few years later the CoS movie came out. And Tom Riddle was HOT. And I say as much to my friends, who naturally decided I was married to him. It becomes a big running gag. (I mean, if my other friend was married to Anakin Skywalker, I could totally be married to Tom Riddle.)

And in the meantime, I'm finding myself drawn to villains in a lot of the media I'm consuming. By the time I am 13, it's my thing. I'm the one in my friend group that has a thing for the villain. My very first fanfic I ever wrote was in middle school for the His Dark Materials Trilogy. It was about Lord Asriel and Ms. Coulter.

So anyway, I discovered fic at 13. I read a Tom Riddle /Ginny Weasley fic that changed my life. I printed it out. It was only rated PG but it was so...hot is the wrong word, bc it's all in their heads, he's not even in possession of a body for most of it. But shit. I start shipping Tom/Ginny. Then I start shipping Bellamort (though it's a love/hate relationship with the ship at that point). I create a blatant self-insert OC and write fics with her in it. But I also am writing a lot of shit from his POV. By the time I'm 15, I'm writing so much Lord Voldemort fic, I'm the "Voldemort girl" in my friend group.

I'm sure the entire High school thought of me as Voldemort girl by that point. And all this time I'm writing. And also at this time, everytime I walk into a store or am having a bad anxiety day, I ask myself what Tom Riddle would do and I push through. I have a major depressive episode at 17 and I'm living out of pure spite with LV as my role model. At 17 I'm still married to Voldemort, btw. My best friend made us an "anniversary" card every Halloween from ages 13-17.

I start college. I start writing a lot of original fiction - and still LV stuff, just for me. Somehow I became Voldemort Girl at college too, but it's not a bad thing. One of my college friends tells me I should rp on tumblr. I already have a fandom blog, how have I not run into rp? So I make one - but for a marvel OC I had, and then my Harry Potter OC. It took me another year to start writing as LV. And now I'm here.

I'm...still not entirely sure about what vibe I must give off - I said "I actually run a Lord Voldemort fan blog" to some people at work a while ago (we were talking about our nerdiest hobbies, it was justified, haha) and all three of them were not surprised in the slightest. One of them said "of course you do." Like...I thought I was pretty "normal" at work. How do the vibes happen? HOW???

But anyway, that is how I got into Lord Voldemort. I don't understand it anymore than you do. But I'm having a lot of fun!]]

#not voldemort #but also #voldemort #ooc #admin #mun #mun backstory #meta #about me #haha #ooc asks #thank you!#im flattered at the interest lol

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lumau · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do

In a Vehicle+Life or Death+ Kairene

Please? 🥺

Dear Anon, thanks for that request! Sounds like a fun combination? You’re right (although Irene vehemently disagrees and will curse anyone involved in this for the rest of her life)

And she was falling.

Irene had nightmares and disturbing visions of falls from a great height. Her own experience taught her that oftentimes reality did not live up to fantasy. Sadly, this was not one of those cases. Reality was so much worse than her dreams.

Irene’s stomach turned and her breath caught in her throat as her body slowly tumbled in mid-air. Strong winds were rushing upwards past her, tugging at her hair and clothing. She could not move, stretch her limbs or thrash around in panic. She was simply frozen in shock. Not that it would have changed anything anyway. Nothing could break or slow her fall enough to save her now. There was nothing she might try to hold on to, nothing between her and the mountain site below that rapidly, very rapidly drew nearer.

It was with sudden, irrational clarity that Irene realised that Kai had betrayed her. She was surprised that in the face of immediate death she still had capacity for furious anger. The one person she had trusted above anyone else had betrayed her. And wasn’t this an awful realisation to die with!

Just seconds ago she had still been in his arms, he had still reassured her. Told her that she should trust him, that he had it under control, just a few more moments and it would all be good. He had not been wrong. It would all be over for her very soon indeed.

If she had the choice, would she have preferred to die on the small aircraft whose crew was cybernetically controlled by a vengeful scientist, which also happened to be on fire?

“Irene, over here!” Kai had called out to her above the screeching of metal and the roaring of the engines. He was standing by the airlock that had been broken open in the fight, his hair and coat flapping in the wind that came gushing in.

Irene had simply been panicking for the last few minutes, and while she was usually pretty experienced in pulling herself together when facing mortal danger, her fear of heights seemed to make it impossible for her to focus.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted at Kai, as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, while landing a high kick in the stomach of one of the zombie-like pilots who had appeared behind her. It sent the figure flying across a pile of tumbled luggage, where he landed in an unnaturally twitching heap.

“I’m a dragon, remember?” Kai looked way too calm, way too confident. Irene wanted to shake him and make him understand that they were about to die and there was no way out.

“But you can’t take your natural form here, the space is too small!” she motioned at what was left of the cabin. The subtext of And if you jump out and change into a dragon mid-fall, it will leave me on a burning airplane that is about to crash, and you won’t do that. went without saying.

Kai nodded and looked around assessingly. When he turned to her, his face was serious and tense.

“Irene, if I tell you we will be fine, do you believe me?”

“Hell, no!” Irene gave a hysterical laugh. What was he thinking? He could not use his power, and the language would not save them anymore either. And the stunned, remote controlled pilot was scrambling back to his feet. For once, there was no way out.

“Trust me, please. This is dire, but it will all be over in a moment.”

Before Irene could argue, Kai had got a tight grip on her and pulled her into a desperate kiss. Irene felt herself swaying at the sudden gesture, the comfort an incredibly stark contrast to their overall situation. For a short moment she almost thought she could believe Kai when he said it would be fine. This she did not want to give up on. It could not end here and now.

Kai’s urgent embrace loosened slightly, their lips still locked together. Against all odds, Irene felt herself relax a little. And it took her a few seconds to realise that with the smallest, determined motion Kai gave her a push, and her feet met nothing but open air as she stumbled backwards.

Irene could make out details now, patterns on the snow covered crests, dark trees in the valley, even a few cabins as small, black dots against the bright landscape. She wondered what would be left of her when she hit the age-old solid rocks, and whether she should rather hope for a patch of snow. Either would kill her, of course. One might look slightly less gruesome than the other.

There was a sudden change in the flow of air, as the currents around her changed direction. Irene could feel it, too. It was as if a second field of gravity was close by. With a bone shuddering thudd her body hit Kai’s back. The dragon had swept her up as if she was nothing more than a gently floating leaf. For a long moment Irene simply clung unto his scales, unable to process what just happened. Then she finally remembered to breathe, and she screamed.

#the invisible library #irene winters #kai strongrock #kairene #requests #tw: vertigo

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funkyhanji · 4 years ago

Text

Nuvole Bianche [English | BNHA]

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia (@Horikoshi Kohei) Character(s): Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Pairing(s): BakuDeku Rating: E Word count: 3298 CWs: Fantasy AU, Established Relationship, Snowed In, Fluff and Smut, Sex, Quirks as Magic, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Barebacking, Dorks in Love, Bottom Izuku

Summary: - «Can't help it, Deku,» Katsuki says. There's the hint of a teasing tone in his voice, as if to prove the statement. «You're stupidly cute.» His spouse-to-be blushes yet his lips give way to the small grin he'd been fighting back. «… And you're stupidly handsome, Kacchan,» he whispers like it's a secret he's kept hidden all this time. -

Katsuki wills a shiver down as he steps past the cave's open entrance, tracking snow at his heels. The magic barrier they put up is thankfully holding steady to keep the cold outside; it's a flimsy solace though. His boots, socks and heavy breeches are completely soaked through; his double wool-lined, crimson cloak drags at his shoulders with the added weight of melting water. His hair sags, the blond spikes limp and frosted over.

He fucking hates winter.

He throws a glare at the inky darkness that's crept upon the mountainside in the last hour; it's barely sunset, technically, but it might as well be the dead of night already with how pitch black the world outside is. If only the weather hadn't gotten so bad so quickly, they would've been home by now. In front of a nice hearth — but alas, after so many months away from Musutafu, it seems Katsuki had forgotten how swiftly a cold but pleasant winter day could turn into a nightmarish snowstorm.

Why did we even decide to come up here?! Katsuki gripes internally, fumbling to take off his frozen leather gloves with numb hands. Right. To get away from annoying people.

He shouldn't have sent Zero up ahead to the castle in favor of hiking back down the mountain by foot. He sighs, curses as his grip on the gloves slips. Then again, the cave isn't big enough for a full grown dragon and two people, so maybe it's better this way.

A faint giggle reaches his ears, compelling Katsuki to look up and pause his struggle.

Green eyes, bright with flames gently dancing in their depths, meet his from across the stone floor. Izuku's covering his mouth with his fist, but Katsuki knows he's smiling by the way his cheeks are raised. The smattering of freckles decorating Izuku's face appear and disappear with the flickering of the fire, almost as if they're playing hide and seek — they'd never win: Katsuki has memorized each and every one —.

«How's it looking out there, Kacchan?» Izuku asks, lowering his hand so Katsuki can see the curve of his lips. He waves Katsuki over; a silent offer to help him remove his uncomfortable gear. «The wind is really strong. I can hear it through the barrier...»

Katsuki scoffs. «No shit,» he says, nearing the fire. «A gust of that motherfucking wind almost threw me off the cliff-side.» Izuku gasps, immediately launching into a worried rant; wide-eyed stare flying over Katsuki's form for any possible injury. «'M fine, Deku. Takes more than this to do me in.»

«Oh, I know, Kacchan,» Izuku laughs, at ease when Katsuki smirks his way.

Katsuki takes a seat next to Izuku, their shoulders and knees brushing as they stare into the flames in silence for a heartbeat. Then Izuku shifts, reaching out to take a hold of his hands and carefully pulling on the iced-over gloves. Katsuki turns to face him, letting the other slip the leather off one finger at a time, ever-so mindful of not using too much strength, as though Katsuki would care if he ripped the gloves.

«Whatever,» he mutters under his breath. He doesn't miss the grin on Izuku's face at that. «And the snow blocked the pass, so we're stuck in here 'till tomorrow anyway.»

«That's too bad.» Izuku looks up at him after removing the gloves and placing them near the fire to defrost. «Everyone was so excited about the pre-wedding feast! We're going to miss it...»

«That was the whole point of hiking the mountain, Deku.»

«Oh, come on, Kacchan! They're here for us, you know…!»

Katsuki rolls his eyes, idly rubbing his stiff hands together to rid them of the chill. «Doesn't mean I have to suffer through it-» he flexes his fingers, cringing when his knuckles pop with a loud crack- «not tonight at least. Tomorrow I'll have no goddamn choice.»

Wordlessly, Izuku grasps his left hand in his. He caresses his thumbs along the cold skin, slow and meticulous. He kneads the pads of his fingers into Katsuki's palm, then moves to Katsuki's own digits, massaging them from knuckle to nail; he does it once, twice, three times, over and over, until the numbness is replaced by pins and needles. Until feeling returns and Katsuki's hand is warm again. Izuku repeats the same process with his right hand.

«How's that? Better?» Izuku asks with a smile which looks even softer than usual. It makes Katsuki's heart speed up.

With the regained sensitivity, Katsuki switches now to grasp the wrist of his consort-to-be, tugging him forward. The surprised sound Izuku makes is cut off as their mouths meet in a kiss; the touch is firm but chaste, purely motivated by a simple need, a subconscious call resonating deep within Katsuki's bones telling him to be closer to Izuku. He feels a hand glide up his other arm, up, up to his neck and his jaw before it buries itself into his hair.

Or tries to.

Green eyes blink open, and in the next second Izuku's pulling back with a crease between his brows. His hand flexes a little, where it rests near Katsuki's ear, and a faint crunching can be heard coming from the hair.

«Storm froze it,» Katsuki supplies with a shrug.

«Oh...»

Izuku takes a better look at him then.

Katsuki can see that attentive gaze picking up on the slight tremble in his frame; the hunch to his shoulders and the way he's leaning toward the fire more than he would usually do — with Katsuki's temperature always running higher than most people's due to his fire-related magic, he's not one to crowd in front of direct heat sources —. He can see the furrow deepen when shining emeralds take notice of the layer of frost whitening and weighing down his clothes.

«Oh, Kacchan, sorry!» Izuku says, now concerned. Katsuki's about to retort that he's fine, but the other keeps going. «You walked around in the snow longer than me, you must be freezing! And here I was, warming up in front of the fire…! I should've went with you after all... we need to, ah, get you out of these icy clothes! Yeah!»

Izuku is fussing over Katsuki as soon as he stops talking.

He makes quick work of taking off the soaked boots and socks, placing them behind him in front of the fire pit. He hovers in Katsuki's personal space, un-clasping his cloak and sliding it off, casting a spell to have it float near the flames to dry — it's a simple incantation he'd been taught by his friend, Ochako, a gravity-specialized mage —. Izuku's scarred hands move from Katsuki's shoulders to his arms, struggling to tug the stiff leather braces down. He almost falls back on his ass when the first one dislodges from his elbow; the squeak he makes too endearing for Katsuki to repress a chuckle.

«Mean,» Izuku mutters, retaking his previous position just within the circle of Katsuki's legs.

There's a wee frown wrinkling his dark green eyebrows.

Katsuki lets Izuku take off his heavy woolen shirt, complying to the silent request to lift his arms. He waits for the other to lay it down on the stone next to the boots; he waits for Izuku to face him again. He's stubbornly trying to keep up his upset demeanor, but it's obvious he's failing from the twitch in the corner of his mouth.

«Can't help it, Deku,» Katsuki says. There's the hint of a teasing tone in his voice, as if to prove the statement. «You're stupidly cute.»

His spouse-to-be blushes yet his lips give way to the small grin he'd been fighting back. «… And you're stupidly handsome, Kacchan,» he whispers like it's a secret he's kept hidden all this time.

Katsuki finds warmth creeping onto his ears and high cheekbones. He's by no means unused to such compliments — he's been showered in praise since a young age, whether he worked hard to deserve it or not —, though he's discovered, with the passing of the years, that receiving them from Izuku never stopped his stomach from somersaulting.

He wonders if the Paladin-in-training is aware of the effect he has on him.

Izuku's palm comes to rest on his chest, above his heart, and Katsuki thinks, maybe he does know.

There's a certain reverence in the way Izuku brushes his hand over his skin, in the way he leans forward to place a kiss in that same spot. Soft, gentle. Katsuki pretends for a moment that the shiver running up his spine is the cold seeped into his limbs from his soaked clothes.

He blinks, and it feels like he's five again.

The first time he lay eyes on Izuku, his whole world had tilted on its axis the second those forest-green irises met his, full of wonder and awe. Katsuki remembers the wide-eyed stare and the cautious steps the shorter boy had taken, getting closer to him with a trembling hand extended toward his newly-pierced ears.

«Do they hurt…?» Izuku had asked, not quite touching him but hovering near one of the ruby studs.

Katsuki had been taken aback by the ethereal beauty of the creature before him; had been rendered speechless, forgetting every lecture on etiquette his parents had been trying to drill into his skull.

He'd shaken his head, grumbling. «Of course not, stupid! I'm the future King, this 's nothin'!»

Izuku had «oooh»ed and smiled, bright and full of admiration. «You're really amazing!» he'd said, cheeks flushed. «I'm Izuku! My mom and I will be living here from now on, I hope we'll be friends!»

Katsuki blinks again, coming back to the present to Izuku moving to press a peck a little higher—his green curls tickling Katsuki's chin—and higher still, one over his jaw, one below his ear.

«Kacchan,» he whispers, no more than a breath exhaled by unconscious reflex. «Kacchan.»

He doesn't have to repeat it a third time.

Katsuki's cups Izuku's face in his hands, brushes their noses together, their lips. The contact is lighter than before yet the sparks it creates are stronger, the intent behind it clear. He bridges the non-existent gap a second time, their mouths parting at the same time; tongues sliding together, slow and passionate, the kiss gaining a more intense quality.

The heat between them gradually growing with it.

Katsuki's free arm wraps around Izuku's waist, bringing him flush to his body. His palm skims the warm skin under his consort-to-be's shirt, settling at the hip and starting up a leisurely rocking. Izuku gasps into his mouth, a short moan breathed in and licked up by Katsuki's tongue. Green eyes crack open a slit to stare into crimson ones, the embers of desire coming to life inside both of them.

«Deku,» Katsuki grunts, husky and hungry.

Izuku racks his blunt nails over his nipples, breaking the kiss to bow his head and run his tongue over them, one at a time; he nips and suckles at them, teases the hardened nubs with his teeth. Izuku spurs himself on with his own whines. His hands squeeze and grope Katsuki's biceps, his shoulders, his nape; they successfully bury in blond hair. Izuku's neck bares for Katsuki — a clear invite to claim —, his jugular jumping with the wild rhythm of his heartbeat under Katsuki's kiss-swollen lips. Izuku's sighs reverberating deep within his bones as Katsuki licks a wet strip up the unblemished skin to his ears.

Izuku's hips jerk sharply when he bites the lobe, the movement slotting their erections together just right, both groaning at the friction. The flimsy barrier of their undergarments and breeches doing little to hide the growing need between them.

«Wanna fuck you so bad, Deku,» Katsuki says, voice gravely and fingers digging into the meat of his consort-to-be's rear. He knows they can't; not right now, without the necessary equipment. It doesn't stop him from craving though. «Wanna feel you around my cock.»

«Yes, Kacchan,» Izuku answers. He arches against his broader chest, his scarred hands quiver slightly as they snake down Katsuki's stomach, fumbling blindingly to undo the belt and string of the damp cotton bottoms. «Please.»

Katsuki's about to tell him it won't be doable tonight, then he notices Izuku gesturing vaguely, feels the faint hum of his innate magic at work. From the corner of his vision, he sees a small terracotta vase teetering in the air toward them. A blond eyebrow quirks in question; his stare lifts from where he's been busy playfully gnawing at a collarbone, until it meets Izuku's blushing face and hazy eyes.

He laughs, delighted and cocky.

«Someone was expecting something ta happen tonight, mh?» he teases, slapping an ass-cheek and enjoying the squeak he gets in return. «Didn't look too sad to be snowed-in-» he snatches the pot before Izuku's control slips and makes it crash on the stone floor- «this why?»

Izuku mumbles, embarrassed and unintelligible.

«Hey, I'm not complaining Deku,» Katsuki reassures, planting a chaste kiss on the other's pouting lips.

«Kacchan, please...»

«Yeah...»

Together, they shift, raising on their knees so both Katsuki's breeches and Izuku's shirt can be discarded. Katsuki then guides Izuku backward, to lay onto the dried, forgotten, forest-green cape — a match to his own crimson one, the Bakugou family crest emblazoned on it in gold; a gift he'd given the other two years prior, when he'd officially proposed to him —. He takes care to cushion Izuku's head against the fur collar and crawls into his space.

He kisses him again, tongue slipping past willing lips to wetly glide alongside Izuku's own. Katsuki moves down the pliant body beneath him, nipping and sucking marks into creamy skin dotted with dark chocolate-brown freckles; tugging and flicking dusky-pink nipples.

Izuku's undergarments are slipped off with deft fingers while Katsuki distracts him with his mouth, blowing raspberries into his stomach and grinning as his breathless pants turn into breathless laughter. A shiver runs up Izuku's spine as the colder air hits his heated skin, and Katsuki's warm hands are there to chase it away. He smooths his palms down along toned legs as far as he can reach without moving from his spot, kneads his fingers into Izuku's thighs and sides, and up his torso.

Only when the bewitching body underneath him is quaking in need, does Katsuki finally pay attention to Izuku's cock. He's hard, flushed an inviting shade of dark pink and already leaking.

«Ya look delicious Deku,» he says, smirking as he lowers himself to lewdly lick a strip of saliva over the underside of Izuku's cock. One hand around the base, the other cupping his balls gently.

«Ka— Kacch… aahn…!»

Katsuki hums, lips enclosing the head, the tip of his tongue pressing into the slit and under the foreskin. He sucks lightly, pleased to hear the choked off gasp from Izuku. Katsuki swallows him down painstakingly slow, with almost-lazy bobs of his head and flicks of his tongue, barely-there strokes and caresses with his hands — he loves torturing the other like this, the sounds he can pry out of Izuku music to his ears —. He loves feeling him squirm and cry out.

Katsuki pulls off to take a breath, snatching the vase with the lotion in the meantime, popping the cork off and settling it next to them.

«H-hurry, Kacchan…» Izuku says, staring up at him with glazed eyes, the green overshadowed by dilated pupils.

Katsuki huffs, pretending to be irritated. «Impatient, are we?» He can't blame him though, his own dick is stiff and throbbing in his undergarments, longing to feel the other's heat surround him.

He dips two fingers into the pot; the transparent, viscous lotion coats his hand when he takes them out and spreads it over his palm. Soon after, he's teasing a circle around Izuku's entrance with a slick finger. Izuku whines, writhing on the cape as he tries to make the digit slip inside; when it does, he sighs such a delighted «yesss», it resounds even inside Katsuki's chest.

«Fuck, Izuku...» he groans, leaning in to sloppily kiss him while he works his finger deeper. «'S been a while, huh.»

«Yeah… ah!» Izuku nods, his hips rocking onto the hand between his thighs.

The wedding preparations have kept them both busy for the better part of last month — the constant ebb and flow of people coming in, to teach Izuku to dance; to choose decorations and food and music. Court meetings for foreign dignitaries, training —, leaving too little time and energy to enjoy their hard-earned intimacy with nothing but cuddling and simply sleeping together.

This snowstorm has been a nice opportunity to… catch up on that.

Katsuki is as quick yet thorough as he dares. Neither of them wants to cum without being connected, but they're also coiled too tight after so long; this round isn't going to last.

He's scissoring and spreading and curling three fingers inside Izuku for what feels like hours, rubbing grounding circles on his hip with his free hand. He kisses, sucks and nips at the expanse of skin at his disposal to add sensations at odd times. He brings Izuku to a dry orgasm; he's sobbing and quaking, straining to stroke his dripping cock but Katsuki restrains his wrists with his hand.

Only then does he take out his fingers.

«Ah… haa, Ka… Kacchan— shit, please— need you in-inside...»

Katsuki's answer is a low groan. His undergarments are tossed to the side hastily; he slicks up his cock, lotion mixing with his copious precum, and lines up to Izuku's ass. He drapes the other's legs around his waist, Izuku understanding the implicit prompt to link his ankles behind his back.

Katsuki pushes in, the glide easy and painless after the generous preparation and the slackness from Izuku's previous orgasm. He bottoms out with a rasping breath, his nerves aflame.

«F-fuck,» he stutters, biting his lower lip and scrunching eyes closed in concentration. «Won't last… long, De-Deku… Fuck— ya feel so good...»

«Y-you t-too Ka— nnh!— Kacchan!»

«Shit— 'm movin'...»

Katsuki takes a breath, bracing himself as he pulls out halfway before pressing back in. The pace he sets is swift; thrusts inelegant but precise, the angle good enough for him to brush Izuku's sweet spot just right. His hips snap back and forth. Izuku arches under him, meets his thrusts with his own wild ones, bucking onto the cock pounding into him with shudders and moans and calls of Katsuki's name.

The wet slap of skin on skin is loud and lewd, a perfect counterpoint to their mingled sounds and the crackling of the fire.

«S-shit— Izu… ku— nngh!»

Katsuki's movements falter. He throws his head back with a groan, eyes squeezed tight as he buries himself deep inside Izuku, filling him up spurt after spurt. In the haze of his climax, Katsuki languidly strokes Izuku to orgasm. He grins smugly through the rush of endorphin when the other cums without even trying to take matters into his own hand.

«Kacchan...» Izuku says a minute later, breath almost back to normal and snuggled into Katsuki's chest.

«Mmh?»

«You were really pent up, a lot came out… how am I going to clean up? We don't have enough water for a bath and-and you know it gets, uhm, uncomfortable to have se-semen up there for too long so— waah!»

Katsuki cuts him off by abruptly flipping him over, hands grabbing Izuku's sides and bending down to bite at a round ass cheek.

«I'll just eat my cum and your ass out then.»

«Wha— Kacchan, no! Wait a— ah!— Kacch… oh! Oh!»

Katsuki laughs a little meanly. «You're gonna walk up the throne room and get married with a fucking limp tomorrow, Deku— 'm gonna fuck you so good.»

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha #this was written for the bkdk secret santa 2018 #funkys fics

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tobswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Other Side-oneshot

Another bnha Kiribaku Fantasy AU because I love dragon Kirishima, and because I was heavily inspired by this creator’s animation please check them out, and read their plot in their description!

There was tales of dragons so old, one might believe they were just legends. Dragons that once co-existed with the humans, beings that shared their magic to all of the world. They were creatures that had it all, power, strength, wisdom, they were freedom.

Katsuki grew up under his mother reign, groomed and raised to be the next ruler of the small kingdom. Trapped forever behind the castle walls to delegate with the other kingdoms surrounding them, pretending to be modest compared to the others, follow a fake protocol to keep their alliances, sign papers and rule when the citizens become unruly.

He hated the entire concept, he would love to be king one day sure, but to never even experience the world outside of his kingdom was torture. To not be able to explore and make a name for himself, a name that wasn’t already tied to royalty or was influenced by his mother.

No, he wanted to prove not only to the world, but to himself that he is worth the title of king.

How can a king delegate with kingdoms when he’s never been, how can a king prepare for a problem that has yet occurred in his life, how can he be a king making hastily decisions if he has not been in battle? He has no real experience besides that of his mothers, or that of lectures that come from books and rules.

Anyways, back to the dragons, Katsuki had heard of the tales and legends, of stories and the narratives. How it’s been about a millennium, perhaps even longer depending on the book you opened, that dragons were seen last.

People, humans and all other greedy creatures alike were obsessed with the dragons, of their scales that make of great armor, of fire so hot to melt the toughest of metals, their ability of flight and rule over the skies unlike any other. They had strength not only in their height, but as well in magic and in energy.

Not to forget they were so beautiful. Creatures no one could take their eyes away from.

But they disappeared for thousands of years, because greedy bastards could not keep their hands off them. Many were stolen from their homes, raised from eggs to slaves, fancied in chains and jewels a like. Used in war and controlled to gain power. They were slaughtered for their scales and talons, killed for their fangs and horns. Used to decorate their walls and become trophies to sick fucks.

The dragons of course were not weak, but they were tired of hiding, tired of running and fighting, they wanted to live in peace and so the main population had flown away, dwindled in numbers. So that they did not become of what happened to the unicorns, they left. The last dragon ever seen was a slave girl, who’s died after the constant war of obtaining her.

Some say she died by accident, others have been told that she killed herself, for she did not want to be trophy any longer.

Katsuki, when he was young, remembered a promise he had made with Deku, that the two would not die until they see a dragon with their own eyes. He doesn’t know what that idiot has been up to since he left the kingdom, following in the steps of man they both admired, while Bakugou had to stay in the castle, he was sure as hell going to see a dragon without him.

There was a mountain range, called Takai Mountains, rocks that even penetrated the clouds. And just above those clouds, were rumored to be the home of the dragons. Only of course no one survived to confirm those rumors.

Either they lost their way up or died coming back down.

Since dragons were not the only creatures living in those mountains. Bakugou should know, since he is currently trekking in unknown territory.

Bakugou was not one to fight meaningless fight, to only kill when hungry, to only kill to defend. So avoided the animals living in these mountains as best as he could, but rams were nasty assholes, constantly pushing things off cliffs and rocks. They were seven feet tall, horns curved off their thick skulls.

He had to kill one through his hike up the mountains and used as much as he could of the animal to not have the sacrifice be a waste. He dried meat, cooked it, used the ram’s fur for warmth. He had to only kill one more animal at the end of his trip out of defense, an owl griffon.

Its feathers were soft and warm, using it for the outer top of his red cape, he was able to rest easy on hard gagged rocks, and keep warm when the air’s cold winds picked up.

His slow trek to the top of the mountain also helped with him become accustom with the thin air. Soon, he was able to reach the top. Even to him, the foggy, thick clouds were hard and scary to maneuver through, but as soon as he broke out of that fog, he was greeted with a sight he believes many people have yet to seen.

It looked like snow, hills and hills of snow that seemed to never end. Breathtaking and beautiful, all of it was a look to never tear away from. That is until he heard a sharp sound, cutting the skies above the clouds. Looking up, he couldn’t hold his giddy smile, laughing in excitement as the dragons who still flew high above him flying towards their home, which couldn’t be far.

Turning to see the directions the dragons were heading, he was quick to take out a dagger and shoot it from his hand, hitting a rock just near a face he saw from the corner of his eye.

There, standing unbothered by the dagger that was inches away from scaring his other eye was a man. Large in stature, red hair, long with the tips a black. His face was worn of either age or tiredness. Bakugou thinks it’s the latter.

“You’re a dragon.” Bakugou is quick to say, looking at the man’s features. He sorta feels bad for throwing the dagger now, but still, the dragon shouldn’t have snuck up on him like that. The man had ears longer than any elf he’s seen, red and thick with black piercings, small loops unlike the green quartz studs Bakugou wore.

His horns were large as well, both a dark red and shaped uniformly. Sharp and and not all dull at the points. He wore a leather vest, lined with fur. He also wore a scarf, thick like the rest of the man’s clothing, it was a plain scarf, but it caught Bakugou’s interest, nonetheless.

“And who are you?” The dragon growled, crossing his arms and watching the human carefully.

“Bakugou Katsuki.” The barbarian king says with a cocky smile.

“Kirishima.” The red head says, but there’s a look of distaste. “Why are you here?”

“Have many reached this point?” Bakugou asks his own question instead, causing Kirishima to sneer at the blond with even more disgust.

“No. Is that why you’re here? For fame? For a title to be able to reach the peak of Takai?” The mountains were very much known to be the mountains of the Kings, and so it wouldn’t be a surprise if that was why Bakugou was here.

Either way, Kirishima could not let the man pass this point.

“No, I’m here for you.” Bakugou answers truthfully, causing the dragon to look surprised.

“For me?” Does he know? It wouldn’t be possible, the human barely knows where he is, he looks too excited and there’s never been any..

“Well, not you specifically,” Bakugou says, waving him off, “any dragon would do.”

That causes Kirishima to growl even louder, any dragon? Was this man like of those stories told by his ancestors before him? The greed that had infested the creatures below to take things that did not belong to them?

“For what?”

“For companionship.”

Okay, wait what?

“You’re a dragon, right?” Bakugou asked, taking a step forward, curious, “I want you to travel with me, to lands never seen before to worlds only written in the books of myths and legends. To see more than the walls that contained me for years.”

Kirishima’s change of look from distrust to confusion and curiousness helped Bakugou become forward. The barbarian king was known to anger and irritate people quickly, but he wants this man to follow him. If he can get a dragon to follow him, then he can do the impossible too.

“You are a human, aren’t you? You do know you humans are beneath us, creatures not worth following, creatures not even worth talking to.” He dryly laughs.

Bakugou snorts.

“What?” Kirishima’s smile is quick to disappear.

“You’re not just some dragon huh?”

“What impression did I give you?”

“A guard doesn’t ask questions first, a citizen doesn’t look as calm as you do to an outsider, to a different species completely, especially if us humans have yet made it up these mountains for years.”

Kirishima glares, his fist clenching tighter than before.

“You sorta remind me of me.”

“How so?”

Bakugou was always one to ask questions later, always one for a fight when he was younger. But those years have passed him, and he’s tired of the same routine. Not like he would admit, but if he saw a dragon at his door step, in his kingdom he would act like that fucking nerd and ask all sorts of stupid questions, be calm and rational, be intrigued but feign indifference.

“You’re royalty, aren’t you?”

Kirishima’s entire body stiffens, and he curses at himself for reaction so blatantly.

Bakugou laughs at the dragons reaction, but then he stretches his right hand out, unsheathing his talibon sword with the other.

“I know that look in your eyes, the look of longing and the feeling of ache at the very deep of your soul. You’re bored, you’re tired of the same shit. Right here, right now, I’m giving you the offer, follow me and I’ll cut you free from your chains.” He raises his sword up to show a representation of how easily Bakugou can do that for him.

There’s walls that surround Kirishima too, sure he’s not allowed to be outside his own home’s boundary, and sure he did sneak out to look out to the horizon only to find Bakugou there, admiring the view as he was.

“You’re bored of this shit aren’t you? Grey rocks and blue skies, don’t you want to see what’s further beyond?” he slices his sword backward, pointing the blade to the clouds far from the mountains. “Trade it for something more colorful.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Kirishima has never left this mountain, not when he was a whelp, and not when he was a drake. He was raised above the clouds, and was forbid to see anything beyond them.

“Then live a little crazy.” Bakugou quickly replies back, a feral grin growing on the man’s features, “Don’t be a king to some dumb fucks who need to be ruled. Risk it, and maybe you’ll be able to see it all.”

“You don’t know what youre saying.”

“Of course I do, you play the part of king, you sign shit, and you either agree with a new law, or disagree. You decide the fate of your people, strapped to a chair all fucking day with the same issues and shit people have dealt with for millions of years.”

Kirishima takes a step backwards, turning his view from Bakugou, already feeling conflicted with this man’s words.

“You can either stay here Kirishima, stuck in a fucking cage, or take this key I’m giving you, and fucking fly the hell out of here.”

Kirishima scoffs, looking back to Bakugou looking a little more pissed, but Bakugou’s smile doesn’t falter.

“I hate to tell you that I’m actually happy with this life you think I’m trapped in.” uncrossing his arms, Kirishima walks towards Bakugou, but the man looks completely fearless, and that fucking grin of his won’t leave his face. “I admire you though, this whole thing you got going for you.” He motions towards Bakugou’s entirely with his hand, looking at the shorter man up and down. “Really I do.”

“But?” now it’s Bakugou’s time to cross his arms, his sword swiftly maneuvered so that it rest easy in his hand, not cutting or jabbing into anything on his body.

“You said it yourself, I’m a ruler, a dragon of high status, to run around with a human?” Kirishima laughs, saying it out loud even helps his conflicting emotions.

“I’m okay with this title I get to play, a soon to be king, now that’s what I want.” His growling increased tenfold, his wings sprung to life behind him, and Bakugou was sure they weren’t there before. Before Bakugou’s eyes, the man disappeared and in front of him was something magnificent.

Kirishima was huge, his scales beautiful and glistening in the sun, dull and intimidating in the dark. His entire body was packed with muscle, and the dragon was radiating heat. Bakugou had to stagger a step back from the sheer force Kirishima’s energy had given off.

This wasn’t just some royal dragon, this had to be the king of dragons.

“I don’t need a key because I’m not in a fucking cage.” He snarls at Bakugou, his large head only inches away from the smaller male, yet the blond looks far from intimidated. He looked at Kirishima with only adoration and amazement.

“If I were mixed up with you,” he says, breaking the silence since Bakugou hasn’t retorted, his breath taken from him the second Kirishima turned, “I’ll be the talk of the dragons.” They would disown him, they would have him banished from this land, afraid that he’ll bring back the humans to overtake them and disrupt their community.

“Look at you Kirishima,” Bakugou takes the extra step, closing the distant between them more. “you have the eyes of someone who lost all his fight. Damaged and broken.” Spreading his arms, he looks at Kirishima with a sense of genuine care, “at least with me you would live a little, even laugh a little, give me the chance to give you that freedom.”

At the same time he says so, a large dragon shoots up from the clouds, just at the edge of the cliff they stood on, springing towards the skies. He doesn’t see them, at least Bakugou doesn’t think they do. He also internally laughs and cheers at the great timing the other dragon soars into the sky.

Distracted with the flying dragon, he doesn’t see Kirishima change back to his human form effortlessly.

“It’s a deal worth taking Kirishima.” Bakugou says, looking at Kirishima carefully, “But I’ll leave that up to you.”

#kiribaku #kiribaku fantasy au #dragon kirishima #tobswrites #fanfic idea #oneshot #Otherside #dragon kirishima eijirou #barbarian bakugou katsuki #questions?

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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West African Hybrids

“Hey… Hey! Wake up, we’re almost there.”

Ru’Yi felt a slight nudge at her side and opened her eyes. Her uniform was slightly rumpled. She managed to tie up her hair so it wouldn’t be too frizzy on landing. “Really?” She whimpered in a sleepy disappointment. “That was so fast…”

“Well, the executive department doesn’t like to waste time. So the gear department modifies planes for maximum speed.” Rodney gave her a shy smile, revealing a single dimple on his right cheek. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m alright.”

It was still too dark to see much but, as people began to turn on their overhead lights, she noticed that his eyes were hazel, brown with flecks of green and gold mixed in, hidden behind his dark brown bangs. Everything from his hair cut, to his quiet voice, and hesitant demeanor spoke to his shyness, but now that she got a good look at him, she could tell that he was at least as strong as Brian. He had those same broad shoulders and muscles along his arms. He was also relatively tall, stretching his legs under the seat in front of him.

Around her all the students were always wide awake, shifting and speaking to their seatmates.

Ru’Yi only remembered flying once before. Back when she was fourteen when they were on the island, she had been so excited to take her first flight and she packed all her things early. She even watched videos of 757, 747 and 777 airliners to see how things would be. These massive jets with smiling Flight attendants, a friendly captain speaking over an intercom, and movies built into the seats.

But instead of a large bustling airport, her father and mother took a boat to another island where a sandy flat ribbon of land served as a runway. There were no customs, no shopping, nothing like that. Just a long silver luxury private jet in the middle of nowhere.

“Why can’t we just be normal?” She had lamented.

Her father answered her question in his usual succinct manner. The nearest airport was nearly a day’s travel away and she would never be able to use it anyway because she didn’t have a passport. He looked at her with a head slightly tilted, like a curious bird wondering what was wrong. The juxtaposition of his serious-eyed stare, his questioning gesture and his shirt with the bright yellow hibiscus flowers would have been funny but she wasn’t laughing.

This was better anyway, her mother had chimed in. They had the whole plane to themselves. There was an onboard chef ready to fix anything they possibly would want to eat, music, movies, games, and a good pilot that her father knew. She also was dressed in a yellow sundress to match her husband’s and together, they looked like the happy globetrotting couple.

Ru’Yi had relented, but didn’t smile. Deep down, he knew all the kids at school would envy her. They would question how some tour guide could afford a private flight to the United States.

She should be grateful.

Now sitting in the Beluga Aircraft, she realized that this was as close to normal as she could get. At least now, she was surrounded by other people who also didn’t seem to use passports, use airports or pass through customs. They were flying a jet with a jet tucked inside it like a Russian nesting doll and still managed to go faster than the planes she’d looked at as a child. She started to wonder if normalcy was as much as a fantasy to her as dragons were to ordinary people.

Aircraft Carrier, Aido-Hwedo, West Africa Branch.

The calm Atlantic waters broke beneath the unstoppable gun-metal bow of the moving wall of metal that towered a thousand feet high. It was topped with what appeared to be a flat road surface, as though a piece of highway had broken off a steel cliffside and set sail. On the side of this cliff was a name in large white block text a dozen feet high: Aido-Hwedo.

The original name of the vessel was the USS-Enterprise. This aircraft carrier was the one near enough to Pearl Harbor to participate in the famous World War II battle. It had scrambled several of its jets to help, but in the confusion of the sudden attack, many of them were shot down by their own countrymen. Later it saw intense battles of the South Pacific and then other missions during peacetime. But, for all its storied history, it still ended up at the shipyard to be turned into scrap at the end of its life.

According to history, it was scrap. Supposedly, all that was left of the ship was its bell, an anchor and the name plaque. Indeed, the name plaque was removed, but the ship itself moved about on the seas like a ghost of decades past, fighting battles under its new name.

The Aido-Hwedo was the great rainbow serpent that both created the world and sustained Earth’s form from falling to chaos -- A great beast that ate iron and, lacking iron, would instead eat its own tail.

Ordinarily, this floating runway would have been decorated with fighter jets, but for this occasion the landing surface was cleared to accommodate its incoming oversized cargo.

Within the control tower a tall man with skin the color of black coffee watched through his binoculars while a woman sat watching the radar screen. He was dressed in a black naval uniform, decorated with gold tassels. He was still, silent, and tense as he prepared to watch the plane land.

Landing on a flight deck is one of the most difficult things a pilot will ever do. The flight deck only had about 500 feet of runway space for landing planes, which wasn’t nearly enough for the heavy, high-speed jets like the modified Beluga coming in. To land on the flight deck, it would need a tailhook, which was exactly what it sounded like — an extended hook attached to the plane’s tail. The pilot’s goal would be to snag the tailhook on one of four arresting wires, sturdy cables woven from high-tensile steel wire. It would be precision flying at low speed and a high angle of attack. It was the definitive skill that tested Navy carrier pilots. The principle on landing would be to fly the plane aboard the ship at the slowest speed at which it can be done safely, to deliberately stall and drop into the landing.

Despite his confidence in the pilot, Foli Abalo looked through his binoculars with anticipation of a close call. The wire system was checked, rechecked and placed under guard. A back up emergency wire system was installed in case it failed anyway.

“Approach speed 450. Tail hook lowered.” The woman murmured.

The lights of the plane were suddenly visible as it made its approaching turn. It moved incredibly slowly, stalking the ship like a massive fat shark.

“Speed reduced 350…”

It was the moment of truth. By now, the plane was so low and flying so slow, it had two options, land perfectly on the aircraft carrier or land on the ocean. There would be no recovering from this descent.

“On final approach. Flaps full. Speed 300.”

The roar of the engines was now audible in the tower. It rattled the glass. This plane would take up every inch of the runway and its wings would span the full width of the ship. Compared to the plane, this aircraft carrier seemed more like a sheet of notebook paper.

“Landing in five… four, three, two…”

The plane suddenly dwarfed the runway. The weight of it rocked the carrier. A pair of reverse thrusters built into the engines ignited in front of it. The brake lines caught the tailhooks and screamed under the strain. The plane passed the tower, rumbled further and further to the edge and then stopped completely, its nose peeking over the water.

A smattering of applause echoed throughout the tower. “We did it! We did it! That was the hard part wasn’t it? Get the crew down, have medics on board just in case the force of the stop caused any injuries.”

While the crew scattered, Foli smiled, his teeth a brilliant white, his black eyes twinkling. “Grant… it’s been far too long. How have you been doing my friend? Will you still recognize me? I wonder.” He chuckled.

Foli was one of a set of quadruplets. His mother had two eggs fertilized that day and by luck, both of them divided into two sets of twins. They were all born on the same day and seemed to have the same spirit in them so it was impossible to tell them apart as babies even for the most experienced spiritualist. Normally, the children would be named after the day of the week until they were given their permanent names. As it turned out, they were given the names of their birth order and that was that.

The name Foli meant first son, Atsu meant the younger of twins, Do was the first child after twins, and Dofi the second child after twins. His three brothers were also on this ship, scattered throughout the crew. Those onboard had no trouble telling them apart thanks to the uniform system of the West Africa branch. The gold crown on his hat meant he was the First Officer. But without his hat, it was very difficult to tell for those who didn’t know them well, and it wasn’t uncommon for his brothers to disguise themselves as pranks. He wouldn’t meet his friend today. His youngest brother, Dofi, would meet him instead.

He walked out of the tower where his brother was waiting and passed his his hat. Looking at them was like looking at a reflection. The same curled hair, cut short in the same buzzed syle, the same smile, and broad nose.

It was Dofi’s idea to play the prank. He was always the jokester and the one who initiated play on the ship. Atsu, the Chief Engineer was up to his ears after making the modifications to the ship for this mission. And Do had to stay on watch, keeping a careful eye on the stirring atmosphere just a few hundred miles distant. Although they were all the same age, Foli was expected to be the responsible representative and more was required of him as the oldest brother, even if he was only the oldest by a few minutes. So he wasn’t allowed to be seen playing, drinking or smoking.

Dofi screwed the hat on his head. “I’ll say I stole it.” He said, turning on his heel with a wink and then, pulling his face into a stoic frown, marched straight towards the bridge. When the other crew saw him they quickly pulled up in a sharp salute, thinking he was the captain.

The West Africa Branch had managed to remain under the radar for much of history. Africa had few mountains to guarantee a sufficient amount of steady rains. So great buildings and permanent settlements were mostly confined to the coasts and river valleys. The rest of Africa was forced to follow the shifting weather. The most valuable items one had had to be portable. So the hybrids of Africa were always mobile and moving. They kept their secrets with them in oral traditions, and carried their alchemical knowledge in the form of clothing, necklaces and even scars and tattoos. When the tidal wave of destructive colonization smashed to ruins the cultures of millions and the cutting knife of modern country borders separated allies and grouped them with enemies, and the explosion of civil war blew countries into eternal cycles of poverty, the hybrid life of West Africa was like a serpent, sliding under it all, with a secret network of transportation, communication and trade.

Anjou landed on the shores searching for such treasures. They were aware of him immediately and shied away. After all, those Europeans were nothing but looters and could not be trusted. They offered him fakes in hopes of luring him off their land. He saw through their counterfeits, but showed a surprising amount of restraint and tolerance for their hesitance. After a few years of negotiations, they finally trusted him enough to grant him a single piece of exquisite art that contained the alchemical formula for a special kind of dragonslaying metal. In return, he agreed to keep them secret for seven years.

Those seven years passed and the promise was kept and the relationship grew a bit more open. They began to send their young men and women to the college. Foli attended along with Grant. Sadly, the death of Anjou was an uncertain time for the College. They didn’t know this “Lu Mingfei” or this “Von Frings”. But Foli knew Grant Baldwin and he couldn’t refuse a request for help from a friend. Grant said he needed people who could keep secrets and no one kept secrets like the West African Hybrids.

The crew that would welcome them rolled the tall stairway up to the plane’s door and arranged themselves in a long row spanning its length, hands folded behind their backs, looking like a row of sharply dressed dominoes.

The door finally opened and Grant exited first. He looked out over them and stepped easily down towards the ‘Captain’ who gazed at him with a serious air. For a moment, the two stared at each other not saying anything.

From his perch in the tower, Foli could hear what was being said through the wire Dofi wore. He grinned as he heard his brother say, “Welcome to my ship, Director.”

Grant’s voice, at its most deadpan and dry tone said, “Since when did Foli grow a mole on his cheek? Where is he? Which brother are you?”

Within the tower, Foli tilted his head back and howled with laughter, his joy at his brother’s prank failing was intensified by the fact that his friend still remembered him after all his time. “Which brother are you? Hahaha…” He leaned forward and clicked the PA system and his voice boomed over the speakers attached to the tower. “Good morning, Mr. Baldwin! Long time no see! Hahaha!”

“Was this a test?”

“Yes! And you half passed. For the second half, you will have to find out for yourself which brother is he!”

The rest of the line of crew also grinned but kept their laughter in check as Dofi gave a bow with an elegant leg. “We’ll show your students a good time. They need rest while we prepare the mission.”

The students piled off the plane in a rush, eagerly waving and looking around. Foli watched carefully, making a checklist in his mind of each face. He’d gotten the roster from Baldwin of those approved for the mission, so when he saw a woman get off he straightened with surprise.

He didn’t remember any women being on the roster. She seemed young, her skin was only the color of a latte, but her hair was long, coiled and beautiful. She carefully stepped down to the ground and took her place in line to wait for her luggage.

He turned off the PA. It seemed that Grant had his own surprises. “Ensign… who is the girl?”

The woman at the radar shook her head. She’s not on the roster. There’s no female name on the manifest.

He rubbed his chin. He knew he should trust Mr. Baldwin, but he also knew that he only had so much authority. The School Board would easily overrule him.

“Find out what you can about her.” He turned. “I will make my way down to the deck.”

#dragon raja #fanfic #Class of 2032

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lunarianborn · 4 years ago

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☾ @roseofbaron : For the ask anything meme: Please tell me more about Cecil’s stuffed rabbit! :3 Who did he get it from? What did he name it? What happened to it when he grew older? Did he have it long enough to pass it on to Ceodore (if he would even want to)? It’s the most adorable tiny fact and I can’t stop thinking about it lol ☽ CURIOUS ASKS : always accepting

Cecil’s little bunny toy ! What a nice ask, I shall indulge in these headcanons a lot now that I have the chance to explore them eheh ! For anyone who isn’t aware, the DS release of FFIV came with new official art - in a very cute style too. One of them has a young looking Cecil ( I say young because his hair is shorter, and he even sports two little braids ) sitting on his bed, in the West Tower, looking with sad eyes at the helmet of the Dark Knight in his hands. On his pillow, there’s a little stuffed rabbit toy - here is a link.

There is no further mention or picture of said bunny, both in the game or in the novels. So it’s all an headcanon of mine -- but I’ve always imagined it being a memento from his childhood. Cecil first came to Baron owning nothing - and the circumstances of his finding are quite traumatic and sad themselves, so I don’t think it belonged to his brother, or parents even. It was a gift, given to him when he obviously couldn’t notice, nor remember it.

So, Baron had most likely been ruled by the current King Odin for a while now. He knew of Cecilia, who must have died at around 30 years of age ( or so I imagine, considering the age difference between Cecil and Theodor is of about 9 or 10 years and that she still looks pretty young at the time of her demise ) - which makes the King himself close to her same age. We can imagine him being the next in line of succession, rising to power when still quite young. Still, the King never had a queen, and back when Cecil was found, he had no legitimate heirs; common folks in Baron do chat about it even in game - rightly so, lamenting of how the King never married nor sired children in order to, one day, name a rightful heir to the throne. No matter how silly it may sound, it surely did translate therefore in a lack of children living the castle -- till Cecil came around, of course. Kain is just a year older than Cecil, and it can be argued that his father, as Captain of the Dragoons, did maybe reside into the castle of Baron and not in the city proper -- his baby and wife with him. But Kain had, at least at first, a family, wealth and the prestige coming from the important name of the Highwind’s ( not to mention a dragon his father would ride in battle, how cool is that ? ) , and it’s still not certain whether he actually lived inside the castle or not. Cecil didn’t have any of that, and all that’s certain is the fact Kain did hang around the castle as a child.

Anyway, as a result, the odd-looking baby found in the far-away woods and taken to Baron, under the King’s wing and patronage, did gave rise to waves upon waves of curiosity among the servants of the castle. Welcomed as the youngest ward of His Majesty, he was attended and cared for by numerous women, men, servants and mage -- who knows, perhaps the royal nurses did finally rejoice in the presence a newborn inside the castle, haha. He was given, most certainly, all that might have suited a little prince indeed -- attention, care, plenty of food and toys. A brighter future, no doubts. A young chambermaid charged with keeping a close eye on the infant at night, did crochet Cecil that very stuffed bunny. It is nothing fancy: it is stuffed in straw and wool, with two small buttons serving as its dark eyes and felt soft to the touch. She absentmindedly placed inside his cradle and there it remained till he was old enough to grasp things to play with.

He never named it, but it became a huge comfort once a toddler, and accompanied him on his nightly way to slumber as a child, too. While Cecil did prefer to play with other toys, small airships Cid would gift to him and wooden swords, he never thought of giving or storing the bunny away either. At times, a young Kain would reach him in his room to play and snatch away the rabbit from its rightful place and owner to mess with him in a playful, childish way -- which did bother Cecil a bit, at first. The rabbit could have become a poor damsel in distress to rescue, or the white-scaled dragon to slay in Kain’s and Rosa’s company, in their games of play-pretend; but Cecil would have made always sure, by the end of their games, that the toy was perfectly sane and undamaged. It was a senseless attachment, for something so meaninglessly simple, but it persisted for a while - despite being told it held no significance to the circumstances of his finding as a newborn ( and we know for certain Cecil knew from a very young age that he was a foundling ).

When the age fit to play with toys and stuffed rabbits was long gone, unfortunately, and Cecil began attending school and the military academy inside the castle, the toy simply became a silent presence in his room. While he wouldn’t sleep with it anymore, the maidservants in charge of the tower and of his bedchamber always made sure to keep the rabbit on top of his pillow, on fresh and clean sheets for him to sleep upon. There were nights when, too tired to do anything else but fall asleep at the very first touch of the pillow against his head, Cecil wouldn’t even moved away the rabbit from the spot, to just doze off immediately. At the age of 15, shortly after being appointed a Dark Knight, he saw fit of storing all his toys and props inside a chest by the bed -- thus, in a way, finally partying from his childhood days and appealing to the meagre and ‘dark’ lifestyle of such knights. And the bunny remained in said chest for the following, almost forgotten, for the following five of six years...

Considering he became a father rather early ( although, in Final Fantasy standards and more generally, in a medieval setting, it is not that early ) , I like to think he recalled of his old stuffed bunny and ‘passed it down’ to Ceodore - or perhaps it was fished out of the chest by Rosa, it’d be cute to think about it. Although old, it might have been with his son for a while, when still very young -- but given Ceodore’s temperament being quite more playful and adorably lively than what Cecil used to be as a baby, the bunny held his interest for a very brief lapse of time, overall.

Naturally, on symbolism, the bunny gets a deeper meaning. In Asian culture, the myth of the bunny on the moon is a well-known one. An otter, a monkey, a fox and a rabbit decided to help poor people, and once met a old traveler dying of hunger; wanting to save him, they all thought of a way to bring him food: the otter could fish easily, the fox could steal and the monkey was smart enough to bring him fruits -- but the bunny had no particular skills, and all it could fetch him was some grass. Sad and deluded, the bunny then jumped into a fire to donate himself to the hungry man; the traveler felt pity at the selfless sacrifice and revealed himself to be a god, saving the rabbit whose silhouette now stains the moon forevermore. The legend treats themes of self sacrifice, long-life and charity -- which aren’t stranger themes to Cecil. Plus, on a lighter note, Japan celebrates the moon on a specific day each year mid-fall, with stories of the moon rabbit pounding mochi and bunny-shaped sweets. Namingway and his brothers do live on the moon, in-game, and they do resemble white bunnies -- a wink of the eye to that legend and folklore.

It is a clear reference to the fact Cecil descends from a Lunarian man, his destiny laid bare before him from the very start, when he still had no clue of his origins or of people living on the second moon. Bahamut resides on the moon too, and I did read somewhere that it did imply either a form of worship for the Eidolon, or a descendance too -- so the Father of the Dragons could also serve as a symbol; but we have to admit bunnies are just cuter eheh !

#[ ive been INDULGED ]#▐┊ headcanon.#roseofbaron #▐┊ meta.#[ on this matter... cecil being born around mid autumn has become canon here ah ]#[ thanks to the Moon Rabbit legends ahah ]#[ although i guess they celebrate namedays more than bdays ]#[ baron didn't have airships back then... so odin reached the region by sea ]#[ it might have taken a bit considering the devils road was shut BUT !! ]#[ the pic has the cutest bed ;_; and the cutest window ]#[ where he could watch the moon each night ;___; ]#[ it kinda speaks of how young he was when appointed dark knight... ]#[ also the circlet on his forehead OK i ll stopHHH i sure wrote a lot hhh ]#[ but ty i loved this ask you know how to make me have FeelsTM ]#[ was the maid who made the rabbit a namingway in disguise watching over a lunarian's song on gaia?? ]#[ like shinryu son of bahamut does with golbez??? more at 8 ! ]

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cassandra-tangled · 5 years ago

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Cassandra Appreciation Week Day 5: Happiness

Hey guys! Here’s my one-shot for Cassandra Appreciation Week day 5: happiness. So, I took a little bit of a liberty with this one, it’s a bit experimental and in first person. I’m honestly not too sure how I feel about it, but it was fun to play around with! Also, it does loosely connect to my one-shot for day 1 (here on AO3). Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Here’s the AO3 link

The word count is 2,475

And a brief summary is: Cassandra makes good use of the journal that Rapunzel gave her as a birthday gift.

The only thing of any concern is some light cursing. Enjoy!

Dear Diary,

Dear Journal,

Wow. This is really not my speed.

So, a journal. I don’t really know what to write, I’m not a...journal-ly person. Raps is, sure, but not me. This stupid, leather-bound book was a birthday gift from her, though, so I want to make sure I use it.

Not that Raps would ever snoop into my private life (at least not intrusively enough to read this) but if she did, I hope that last part wouldn’t hurt her feelings. I love the gift, really. It’s only stupid because it’s frusturating me that I don’t know what to write.

I guess I can start with where I got this journal. Like I said, it was a birthday gift from Raps. My birthday was a little under a week ago, now. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, but I turned twenty-eight. I feel old. Raps threw me a dinner. There was good food, cake, and alcohol. I fucking hate parties, but I love my friends, and it was only the five of us. Raps and Eugene got me this book, and a quill, and a knife, and some clothes and other fun things. It was really sweet of them, honestly. They didn’t need to get me anything, I wouldn’t have known the difference. Varian got me a bag of rocks, basically. Wait, that made me sound ungrateful. They’re beautiful rocks, and it was a cute gift. Or are they stones? Or gems?? Or crystals?? Fuck, I’m not a rock expert. But whatever they are, they’re pretty, and he found them all around the kingdom. It’ll be like having Corona with me when I leave again. Oh, and Lance got me a bag of Monty’s candy. Score.

So, I don’t really know what to use this for. I guess if I go back on the road I can...write or doodle in here like Raps did when we were younger. I mean, I’ll probably write, if anything. She’s all about doodles. I wonder how many notebooks she’s filled up by now.

When I asked her what she thought I should do with the journal yesterday, she told me to write about the things that make me happy. That’s a good place to start, I suppose. I’m not her, though. She could probably write a novel and a half on what makes her happy--but not me. Most things make me angry, and I could probably write a novel on that. Screaming children make me angry, although they’re cute when they’re quiet. Parties and social interaction make me angry. People who pronounce ‘vase’ as ‘vayhse’ make me angry (it’s ‘vahz’). Being awake makes me angry. Being asleep makes me angry. Freeloaders and thieves make me angry--reformed ones are okay, though. Most people make me angry. Especially Fitzherbert. Don’t get me wrong, I love him...sometimes.

But I’m supposed to be talking about things that make me happy. Honestly, I’m hard pressed to think of many, but I can think of some.

My weapons make me happy. I could stare at them for hours, in all honesty--I have so many (thanks Dad), and they’re all beautiful. I love polishing them, and admiring them, and of course...using them. Not in a creepy killer way or anything. Dueling is just really, really fun, and let me just say--I’ve made good use of my Fitzherbert sparring dummy since coming home.

My favorite weapon is my halberd. I keep it well cared for, sharp, polished, and shiny. It was the first weapon Dad gave me, for my eighth birthday. At that point, it towered over me, but not anymore--I’ve had it twenty years now, and it’s rather proportionate. I mean, it’s taller than me because it’s supposed to be, but seriously...watching eight year old me trudge around with it was probably a sight to see. Anyway, he chose it as my first weapon because it’s the weapon of choice for Corona’s guard. I was eight when he started really training me with them. Before, I’d sat on the sidelines and watched, but by eight, I was a full-fledged trainee. People thought he was crazy for raising his daughter to be a guard from such a young age, but I’m glad for it. I wouldn’t be able to protect myself otherwise.

I love all my weapons, though. I couldn’t take my halberd with me on the road, so I took two of my daggers and my favorite sword instead. Oh, how I wanted to take my mace, but it was too heavy to justify. My favorite dagger, I’ve had since I was sixteen. I had a few before it, but my favorite one is absolutely beautiful. It’s probably the most valuable thing that I own. It was a gift, too, a blade carved of steel and the handle of beautiful gold. It’s badass--the handle is carved into this weird...I don’t know, dragon? Lizard? Sea serpent? Whatever it is, it looks cool, and my name is engraved on the blade. The sheath is encrusted with small gems. It’s not from my dad, but from an ‘anonymous castle staff’ or something who leaves me gifts every year. I don’t know why they bother or how they afford it, but I love it. It’s not the most practical, because of the handle, it’s more ornamental. I don’t usually use it in sparring or fights. I didn’t bring it on the road with me, as much as it pained me to leave it home, because of its obvious, glaring value. So, it was nice to see it again when I got back here.

Hmm...I’ve been talking about my weapons for a while. What else makes me happy?

Books. I love books. I grew up with them as, well, my best friends. I was privileged enough to be educated, and educated well. I was reading fluently by the time I was six or seven, and when I wasn’t training, working or otherwise helping my father, you could be sure to find my nose buried in a book. One of the biggest perks of growing up in a castle is the library. I mean, usually, servants can read the book if they please and are able, but aren’t allowed to take the books out with them, or anything like that. I guess Queen Arianna likes me, because I was allowed. My father said it was a special privilege, since I was a learning child, and she valued the concept of book-smart young girls. Anyway, since I started working, I don’t use the library as much anymore--not because I dislike reading nowadays, but because I buy my own books.

Funny story, here. Growing up, I read a lot of fantasy books, about...you know, damsels in distress and princesses who were saved by handsome knights in shining armor. I used to think that maybe, just maybe, if I trained hard enough, I could be the one to bring the lost princess home, and maybe even…

Well, a rogue thief beat me to it. And it wasn’t even on purpose.

Anyway, back to happy--animals make me happy, too. It doesn’t matter what kind, although I am sort of biased towards a certain owl and two particular horses. I don’t know what it is about animals, but despite the fact that they don’t speak our language, they’re a lot more capable of love and empathy than most humans are. There are a lot of great Coronan horses, but two are particularly dear to me. I remember when Max and Fidella were born, actually. They’re pretty close in age, though I think Max is a tad older--he was born when I was fourteen, and she when I was fifteen. Max was fathered by my father’s previous horse, and by the time he was weaned from his mother, it was clear he’d be taking his father’s place as the Captain’s horse. Fidella was actually born to my childhood favorite horse. I learned to ride on her mother, so it seems only appropriate to me that she became the one to accompany me on my journey. Her mother was a beautiful mare named Eliza. Eliza was quite similar to Fidella in color and stature--she certainly takes after her mother, not her father. Eliza was my first equine love, if you will. For a kid without any friends, a faithful horse can fill the gap. We had a lot of fun together, but she got sick and died a year or two after birthing Fidella. It broke me, honestly. Horses can live to thirty years, and she was only twelve at the time of her death.

Right, happy. Oh people, I guess. I mean, as I said before, a lot of people piss me off, but some of them are more than okay. Dad is pretty great, and it’s been nice to be back and see him again. I didn’t appreciate him as much as I should have in my childhood--but then, isn’t that the way it goes? Raps is amazing too, and so is the rest of the gang. I don’t know where I’d be today if it weren’t for their fighting so hard to save me and, honestly, I don’t want to imagine. I’d probably be dead. Despite my...occasional bitterness, especially before, I’ve had some of my best times by their side. Actually, I’ve had nearly all of my best times by their side. Before Rapunzel came back and, well, pretty much forced me to be her friend, I had no one. I’m glad she did. If it weren’t for her, I probably would have died without letting anyone in, without having a single friend outside my father, Owl, my weapons and my books. But Rapunzel is…Rapunzel is impossible to resist. I learned eventually that there was no use in even trying to resist her--and she ended up being the best thing that had ever happened to me. She’s the first person I let in, the reason that I know what it means to be a friend (and how to become one), and the sole reason my friendship extended to Eugene, Lance, and Varian.

I mean...I had some dark times. Some really, really dark times. Happiness was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, I was enraged, jealous, bitter, cold, and most of all, I was hurting. At that point, if you’d asked me, Rapunzel was the worst thing that had happened to me, even though deep down inside I loved her and cared for her more than I ever would have admitted at that point. I did some bad things, some horrible things. In my greed, in my...selfishness and lust for power, I committed some fucking heinous crimes. I hurt all of the people who were most dear to me. I almost caused the downfall of Corona--and the entire world quite easily could have followed.

Yet still, when it was all said and done, Rapunzel still saw the light in me. Eugene, Lance, Varian, my dad, they all still saw the light in me. Despite all the pain and destruction, despite all the fear and uncertainty and my horrid crimes...they forgave me. They loved me.

I hated myself, and I wanted so badly for them to hate me, too. Maybe it’s what lesser people would have done, or maybe it’s what they should have done. I’m still not quite sure. Either way, they didn’t. They chose the path of forgiveness.

That’s what love is.

Rapunzel likes to say that I was never a bad person, and that I just lost my way. I hope that that is true, but honestly, I have no way of knowing. When I think of that time in my life, I’m detached. The memories are vivid and yet blurred. I don’t see that woman as me. I don’t. I can’t believe what I did, that my own two hands committed such offenses. I see that version of myself as a lost, sad, broken woman, descending further and further down a dangerous, shadowy path that would have ended in nothing but pain and destruction. I’d given up on myself. But my friends? They never gave up on me. They saved me from that.

Whether I was truly bad or just horribly lost is beside the point, because that’s not me anymore. It haunts me every waking moment, but it’s in the past. It hangs permanently in the back of my head, but I try to push it away, to ignore it. I’ve changed drastically. I now realize that I have, and always have had, so much to be grateful for. I still yearn for more. It’s almost as if it’s in my nature. But if it’s destined to come to me, then it will be manifested through my hard work. If it’s not, at least I tried.

Most of the time, for me, happiness is hard to come by. Honestly, it is--even now, even though I realize I have much to be grateful for. It’s not such a bad thing to me, though, because when I do feel happiness...it’s exhilarating. It’s life-altering, and the taste of it sticks to my tongue like Monty’s taffy. When I do feel happiness, it makes all of the pain and all of the suffering that I’ve endured worth it.

So, what is happiness to me?

Happiness...happiness is sharpening my weapons on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Happiness is curling up by the fire, nose deep within a book, reading like my life depends on it. Happiness is dark, windy, winding roads far from home, and the shiver that runs down your back when you realize, ‘I’m deciding my own destiny’. Happiness is a Coronan stable. Happiness is flying from town to town on horseback, meeting new people. Happiness is hunting with Owl, and sitting by the fire with Fidella. Happiness is a cup of ale, a shot of whiskey, and warm food. Happiness is laughing with friends, and melting into their arms after years apart. Happiness is the fact that you converse as if you hadn’t been away at all. Happiness is taking the horses out to the wall with Raps, and bickering with Eugene. Happiness is helping a greasy-handed Varian with one of his many ambitious projects, or screaming at Lance for eating your lunch. Happiness is having tea with Dad, and the prideful joy on his face when he pulls back from a hug. Happiness is loving, whether things, animals, or people. Happiness is being loved in return.

Most of all, happiness is being alive.

If it’s true that we only get one life, I’m happy that I’ve had the privilege and opportunity to spend mine the way that I have.

That’s all for today. It’s time for this girl to get some rest.

Until next time,

Cassandra

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andromeda-sapphire · 5 years ago

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Witchy Then Vs. Now

I was SO inspired by the post by @hermeticimp regarding comparing the witchy things of our childhood to the witchy things we do now. I had to write a blog post about it!

Herbal Magic:

Then: I remember when I was a kid, maybe around age 5 or 7, I used to make rose water with my brother in the summertime. But not quite the way I would now! My mom had a few rose bushes in the front yard, and we would pick a bunch of roses and put them in a big bucket of water. Then, we’d roll up our pants and jump in the bucket (or for me, just jump in, as I was usually wearing dresses at that age) and start smashing the roses up with our bare feet! We called the rose water “magic perfume” and I remember wanting to keep some stored in a bottle but my mom always dumped it out when we were finished because playtime was over and it was dinnertime.

Now: I typically don’t even make rose water very often now, as I don’t usually have access to fresh rose petals. I love to use beauty products with rose water in them though, like Thayer’s brand alcohol-free witch hazel. Nowadays I usually use dried rose petals for spell bottles and for smoking herbal blends. My herbal witchcraft nowadays is mostly making tea blends, smoke blends, and of course as ingredients for spells. I’ve also made healing salves and oils with herbs over the years.

Crystal Magic:

Then: Inspired by my mother’s geological rock collection (she was a science teacher when I was a kid), I began collecting rocks when I was a young child, probably as young as 7. I have a lot of crystals that came from my mom’s collection, and as a kid, I remember taking out her rock collection boxes from the garage and placing them all over the living room so I could open them all up and look at the cool rocks inside. I remember reading about crystal healing in a book on home remedies that my mom gave me. I bookmarked so many pages in that book, most of them in the crystal healing section. I had one special crystal that I had found near my elementary school as a kid (but lost over time.. sad!) and I was convinced it was a magic crystal. I carried it with me all the time, I slept with it under my pillow, and I never completely knew what it was (maybe some kind of quartz?) but I felt that it enhanced my dreams and made them much more vivid.

Now: My crystal collection has multiplied... Significantly... (oops) I am definitely a crystal collector, and now I go out and find some of my own crystals as well. In fact, the huge chunk of serpentine in the image above is one that I found, and it’s roughly the size of my face! I love my crystals, and I make crystal grids as a part of my rituals and practice. Crystals are somehow always involved in my practice actually. I make wire wrap jewelry now with crystals also (check out Buffalo Wraps on Instagram) inspired by the healing properties of the crystals.

Astrology:

Then: When I was about 10, my grandma gave me this book. It was her original copy of Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs. It even has my grandmother’s signature on the inside cover. I was visiting my grandparents in New Zealand at the time, and didn’t have any other books with me for the trip that I can remember, so I spent my evenings in bed reading the section on How to Recognize a Libra. (I’m a Libra Sun, and that was all I knew about astrology at the time) As I finished the chapter on Libra, I was convinced there had to be something real to this tradition of the cosmos. So after returning to the USA, I began researching astrology in my free time, reading as many books and online resources as possible about the topic. I gave my friends and family birth chart readings, and was constantly examining my friends’ behaviors as a scientist examines their test subject.

Now: Well, now I’m trying to become a professional astrologer! It’s been my goal since my third year in University to become an astrologer, and I’ve been taking webinar courses since then from well-known astrologers and (again) reading as many books and online resources as possible. I now have shelves and shelves (almost a whole large tote full actually) of astrology books of all kinds that I’ve collected and read over the years, and it all started with my grandma’s little copy of Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs. Instead of only giving free birth chart readings to friends and family, now I offer paid readings of all types as well! I’ve learned so much over the last almost 15 years of studying this beautiful tradition! Astrology is also a huge part of my magic as well. I never cast a spell without first planning it for a specific planetary hour and day that aligns with the desired planetary energies. I’m constantly watching transits and studying how they affect us down here on Earth as well.

Astronomy:

Then: As a kid, maybe 3rd grade through middle school, I was super into outer space. I remember having those little glow in the dark stars all over my ceiling. My dad gave me a telescope for Christmas one year, and I remember him helping me to set it up a few times at night outside on the porch. I was always staring at the stars as a kid, looking at the moon and the constellations. I had (still have actually) a great little guide book on all of the constellations in the sky and the mythology behind them, and all kinds of cool info.

Now: Unfortunately, that telescope got very dusty over the years. It’s sitting in storage now, and I’m dying to bring it out and set it up again, but I need the space for it first! I still observe the sky and watch the stars and moon, but aside from my astrology practice and cosmic witchery, I don’t focus too much on space. I still watch documentaries on space and the planets etc. however! My magic actually heavily relies on my knowledge of both astronomy AND astrology.

Mythology/Fairy Tales:

Then: As a kid, I loved reading fiction and fantasy! I loved drawing dragons and unicorns, and reading about magical princesses and fairies. I wanted to live in a world of mythology so badly. I remember one of my favorite books at the time was Dealing With Dragons by Patricia C. Wrede. I think that book really got me excited about dragons and magic. I also have believed from a very young age, not sure where it originated from, that I am a witch, and have magic within me! I know one influence on that belief was a graphic novel series I used to read all the time growing up called W.I.T.C.H. - I related to one of the characters in that series, Irma, who had water magic abilities. I always felt a deep connection to water for some reason, and as a kid I believed I could control it to an extent. Later in elementary school, I remember learning about Greek mythology briefly, but didn’t get to learn much about it until later.

Now: I went through a bit of a phase a while ago where I thought I had to connect to a deity, or a pantheon. And I feel like I did have a few encounters with deities, but nothing that truly made me feel comfortable worshiping a deity. Don’t get me wrong, I love Greek mythology and religion, and I’ve actually taken a class at University on Greek mythology. Though I’m no expert, I feel pretty well-versed in my myths. They have a few good mythology documentary shows on Netflix that I enjoy as well. I guess because I come from a semi-Christian background though, I have a distaste for worshiping a “god” or “god-like” figure... So I don’t really worship any deities at the moment, but I do recognize the possibility of them existing, and I recognize them as archetypal figures. Same goes for other mythological beings, I don’t really work with them, but I recognize the potential for their existence in another plane.

Divination:

Then: When I was a kid, I had a little pendulum that I made out of blue lace agate and a chain. I used that for divination purposes, just asking yes or no questions. I didn’t know much else about divination though, aside from astrology, so I didn’t know what other directions there were for me to explore.

Now: I use a few different types of divination, and surprisingly, I rarely use my crystal pendulums! Besides astrology, my go-to divination method nowadays is tarot. I’ve learned to read tarot cards over the last few years after one of my college roommates gave me a rune reading and introduced me to tarot and other forms of divination. Now I have several tarot decks, oracle decks, and pendulums all stored in a beautiful box I call my “divination box.”

Anyway, that’s my Witchy Then Vs. Now! I really would like to see this pick up on Witchblr cuz it’s a fun challenge to make you reflect a little on how you’ve changed, or stayed the same!

Check out my Ko-Fi below to leave me a tip!

ko-fi.com/andromeda_sapphire

#wakingwitchblr #witchythenvsnow #witchblr #witch #witchy woman #blog #me #mine #childhood #memories #crystal healing #herbal remedies #reflecting

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tes-trash-blog · 5 years ago

Note

So, uh, a while back you mentioned making a post about how Prisoner McNord might affect the player experience/perceptions of the "default" and I would be super interested in reading that

So!

I have a few thoughts already on what is considered “default” in Skyrim to be expanded upon in a future shitstorm rant (it’s on the list, between Almalexia Is Interesting Actually and Even More Crying About Snow Elves Part 17: My Tears Have Become Sentient And Are Also Crying).

And as always, keep in mind that Skyrim is coming up on 9 years old, elements of it have not aged well, and this is in no way, shape, or form meant to be a “If you like Skyrim then you’re Bad” rant. In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of love that game. It has flaws; all games do, and frankly it’s a miracle this game is as solid as it is. The writers are that, writers. They had deadlines to make, hardware limitations to consider, and above all else, worked for a company that wanted to make money.

To keep this relatively short I’ll focus on how your perception of Skyrim is influenced by the first few minutes of the game via Ralof, the Nordiest Nord to Nord since Ysgranord, and how the writers really, really really wanted you to hold on to that perception.

Overanalysis and spoilers (Metal Gear Solid, Borderlands, and Bioshock respectively yes this will all make sense in context) under the cut.

Part 1: How To Make A Perspective In Three Easy Steps

As the saying goes, first impressions are lasting impressions. This is evident in.. well, every bit of media you can find. The first chapters of a book, the first episode of a show, the first 15 minutes of a video game, all as a general rule:

1.) Introduces the setting, a part of the main plot, and with these two, sets the tone of the medium (high fantasy movie, light hearted TV show, mystery series, horror game, etc.). Exceptions exist, especially in horrors, mysteries, and certain visual novels, but even these exceptions rely on setting a tone so they can subvert your expectations later on.

2.) Give you an idea of what is going on. This is normally accomplished with exposition of some sort; Star Wars had its famous screen crawl expositing the dark times in the Galaxy, Borderlands literally begins with “So, you want to hear a story..”, Metal Gear Solid briefs Solid Snake (you, the player character) on a vital mission to save two hostages and end a terrorist threat, so on and so forth. And again, there are exceptions: Bioshock purposefully disorients you with a plane crash in the middle of the ocean so you’re inclined to trust the first person who talks to you.

This all serves to suspend disbelief, immerse you, and earn your trust. This is a new world, you have no idea what’s going on, so you’re gonna take cues from someone who does. Combine points 1 and 2, and that..

3.) Gives you an idea of what is “good” and what is “bad”. Damn near every story has a central conflict, you gotta pick a side, and there’s gonna be a bias as to which one is superior or morally just. Using Bioshock again, this mysterious man named Atlas guides you through the first level, and tells you how to fight and survive in the hostile environment of Rapture; meanwhile, Andrew Ryan taunts and belittles you, and also has a giant golden bust of himself. The shorthand is: Atlas is humble, helpful, and good, while Andrew Ryan is a megalomaniac who wants you dead. Leaning on Borderlands again, the first voice you hear is literally a guardian angel telling you not to be afraid, and that you are destined to do great things. Once more with Metal Gear: Your organization and your commanders are good, you are good because you’re saving innocent people, and FOXHOUND is bad because they’re terrorists who have the means to launch a nuclear warhead.

Keeping all this in mind, let’s do a quick runthrough of the first, let’s call it 15 minutes of Skyrim. No commentary on my end, just a play by play of the beginning of the game.

Part 2: First Impressions In Action

You wake up on a cart. Your vision is hazy, and you are clearly disoriented. You see a man bound and gagged, another man in rags, and several men dressed like soldiers. Everyone on the cart is tied up, and the people driving the cart are wearing a neat, vastly different uniform.

Then comes the famous line: “You! You’re finally awake! You were caught trying to cross the border, got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us, and that thief over there!” The thief bitterly remarks how these damn Stormcloaks had to cook up trouble in a nice and lazy Empire. The Nord who first spoke with you nobly says that we’re all brothers and sisters in these binds.

The presumed Imperial tells you all to shut up. Undeterred, the thief and the Stormcloak provide more exposition: The gagged man is the leader of the resistance, is supposedly the true High King, and since he’s on the cart, it’s clear that everyone on board is bound for the executioner’s block. The thief is terrified; the Nord accepts his fate, but takes a moment to opine on better days when he flirted with girls and “when the Imperial walls made him feel safe.” There is also a remark about General Tulius and the Thalmor agents; the Nord, in a rare bit of anger, damns the Elves and insinuates they had a hand in this capture.

It’s execution time. General Tulius gives a speech about how Ulfric started a civil war and killed the former High King; Ulfric, being gagged, cannot say a word in defense. A Stormcloak is executed to mixed reactions (“You Imperial bastards!” “Justice!”, etc.). The thief runs away; he is shot by Imperial archers, demonstrating the futility of escape. It’s your turn. The Nord in Imperial armor states you’re not on the list; the Imperial captain doesn’t care and orders you to the block anyway.

You see the headsman’s axe rise up when, as if the gods intervene, a dragon appears and interrupts your execution. In the chaos, you run with the Stormcloaks. The game does not give you the option to run away alone, or with the Imperials; until you meet Hadvar again in the fire and death, you take orders from Ulfric.

Part 3: The Crux

A lot happens in the first few minutes of Skyrim. You’re disoriented from being unconscious, and that’s compounded by your two near death experiences (point 2), the first person you meet is a calm, almost reassuring mouthpiece of exposition while the other side, at best, doesn’t care if you die (points 2 and 3), one major aspect of the plot is revealed (point 1, and the tone is that this is a classic Rebellion story).

And people love rebellion stories. Americans especially; we spend billions on the day when a bunch of white guys said “fuck you” to a bunch of other white guys. With the additional layer of when Skyrim was developed, by who, and in what landscape it was written.. Yeah. There may be two ways to go for the Civil War questline, but for most players (myself included!) their first gut instinct is going to be “side with the guys who didn’t just try to kill me.”

It’s the same song and dance. In Bioshock, your instinct is to trust the Irish guy who wants to help you get out of Rapture alive, but he needs your help first. In Borderlands, your instinct is to trust the woman who is literally called a guardian angel, and she shows her compassion by asking you to help the people of Fyrestone and the poor robot who got hurt in a gunfight. In Metal Gear, your instinct is to shut down the threat because terrorists are evil and these ones are not just terrorists, they’re deserters. Hell, even in other Elder Scrolls games the plot is laid out by helping hands: you’re a prisoner being contacted by your murdered friend, and given the goal to stop Jagar Tharn (Arena), you’re a Blades agent tasked with putting a vengeful spirit to rest that leads you to a weapon that can secure the Empire’s power (Daggerfall), Azura literally tells you not to be afraid, and that you destined to stop an old threat (Morrowind), and a soon-to-be-assassinated Emperor voiced by Actual Grandpa Patrick Stewart recognizes you in a prophetic dream (Oblivion).

Where Skyrim departs from these games, and even the other Elder Scrolls titles, is how much it enforces the first thing you see as solidly good and evil, and how little it tries to subvert that perception. Remember point 2, when the game makes it clear that this person is trustworthy? Therein lies the bread and butter of psychological horror, mysteries, and heart wrenching plot twists: that trust gets tested, and often broken.

The rebel leader Atlas? He’s somehow more evil than Andrew Ryan, and has subtly controlled you the entire time with a command phrase (“Would you kindly..?”). You are unable to stop yourself when you bludgeon Andrew Ryan to death at Ryan’s command. “A man chooses,” he tells you. “A slave obeys.” His final words are him telling you that you are a puppet, only able to obey.

The end of Borderlands reveals that “Angel” was watching you the entire time.. from a Hyperion satellite. You were tricked into opening a Vault holding back a dangerous monster, and you don’t even know why. Borderlands 2 goes further into just what (or rather who) Angel is: a teenage girl and a powerful Siren, used by her own demented, evil, father, Handsome Jack, to manipulate the Vault Hunters and gain more power for himself. Her final mission given to you is simple: she wants you to set her free and end her father’s mad march to power by killing her.

Metal Gear Solid ultimately plays it straight in that you stop the terrorists and disable the nuclear threat, but you don’t emerge from the rubble as an action hero; you’re forced to kill your own brother, the terrorist cell is revealed to be composed almost entirely of people exploited by your organization, and you secretly carry a virus designed to kill the people you were trying to save. War, as it turns out, is not as clear-cut as “we good, they bad”. The people you’ve killed without thinking are your genetic brothers. Sniper Wolf, the assassin who shot your commander’s niece, survived a genocide and has never known a life outside of war. Psycho Mantis’ telepathic gifts were exploited by both the KGB and FBI until he lost his mind. Ocelot is Ocelot.

Oh, but those are other games. What about The Elder Scrolls? Well..

In Daggerfall, your search for hidden correspondence leads you to finding the Mantella, a sort of soul gem that can power the superweapon everyone wants: The Numidium. There are six entities total who want the Mantella, some for their personal gain, one to make a home for his people, and one so he may finally die; the Underking’s soul is in that gem, you see, and he’s been trapped in this misery since the days of Tiber Septim.

In Morrowind, Dagoth Ur recognizes you not as a schlub with a dummy thick journal, but as his oldest and dearest friend. The Empire who guided you for so long? They’ve manipulated you into taking down the Tribunal, destroying the one weapon that could stand against their might, and depending on your interpretation of “then the Nerevarine sailed to Akavir”, have possibly killed you.

And what of everyone’s favorite game in the series to mock? Surprise! Oblivion isn’t even about you, hero! It’s about the actual chosen one, Martin Septim! Sure you can join the Thieves’ Guild and cavort about as Grey Fox, or uncover the traitor of the Dark Brotherhood, or run off and become the Mad God.. but none of those events actually acknowledge you. To be the Grey Fox is to literally be forgotten, by the time the Dark Brotherhood questline is complete there is effectively no more Dark Brotherhood, and to become Sheogorath is to lose yourself entirely. The Hero of Kvatch is one who is ultimately forgotten. Your actions were important, have no doubt, but such is the fate of the unsung hero: they’re not sung about.

Even Arena plays a little bit with your expectations in that the Staff of Chaos alone isn’t enough to stop Jagar Tharn; you need friendship (just kidding it’s a magic gem in the Imperial Palace). Skyrim.. kinda glosses over that. They land a few punches, but for them to stay with you, you have to keep an open mind.

Part 4: Why does that matter?

Because if your expectations are never subverted, your trust never tried in any meaningful way, then your perception of a very specific, spoon-fed worldview is never challenged. The trust you build with a group that is, in essence, a fascist paramilitary cult is never shaken in any way that’s meaningful. You get some lines intended to evoke sadness when you sack Whiterun, but by then it’s too late. Not that it matters; at the end of the Stormcloak questline, there’s not much question about who was in the right. You never lose friends or allies; the Jarls in the holds change, but is there much difference between Idgrod Ravencrone and Sorli the Builder? You might feel a little guilty when you see the Dunmer forced to live in the slums, but then the haughty High Elf says that she didn’t laze around and instead made a name for herself, or the Dark Elf farmer who complains about his snowflake kinsmen harping on about “injustices”. The Argonians seem decent until you meet the skooma addict/thief, and the Khajiit.. let’s just say that even if we disregard the two Khajiit assassins sent to kill you, there exist a lot of extremely harmful stereotypes that none of your friends dispel. They commit no horrific war crimes in your presence, the worst you hear is a Nord (normally a bandit) yell “Skyrim is for the Nords!”, or the clumsy Welcome to Winterhold script where a Dunmer woman is harassed by two Nords; one’s a veteran, by the way. Got run through the chest by an Imperial craven, or so the story goes.

Your only chance to rattle the Nord-driven story is to go against your gut feeling and side with the Imperials (the plotline is pretty weak, not gonna lie), or complete the optional quest No One Escapes Cindha Mine where you see what a Stormcloak sympathizer does to the Forsworn. Even if you complete that quest, the Forsworn still attack you. “They’re savages,” say the Nords, and the game isn’t too inclined to say otherwise.

When it comes to portraying the Nords in any light that’s not negative, Skyrim doesn’t deliver like it did in other games. You saw what life is like in Morrowind under Tribunal rule; it’s not great. The Houses are almost universally awful and they have slaves. You see the destruction in Cyrodiil and hear the rumors on how much the Empire is flailing with the Oblivion Crisis. Hell, even Arena tells you that life in Tamriel kind of sucks, but it’ll suck a little less when Tharn is dead.

That doesn’t happen in Skyrim. You are encouraged to join the sympathetic Stormcloaks, you find out your destiny as Dragonborn, and you set all these things right. Of course you do. You’re a hero, baby. Others have gone on about how storybook the Dragonborn questline is so I won’t go too much in, but that’s it exactly: Storybook. You’re Neutral Good. You’re going to kill the bad dragon that wants to do its job and eat the world.

And that refusal to really examine the nuances and horrors of war, to consider what it means to be a hero that is never morally challenged or forced into a Total Perspective Vortex, to never challenge an extremely biased perspective or even explore its “logical” conclusion?

It leads to extremely dangerous ways of thinking if unchecked.

#lore overanalysis #about my favorite subjects: media studies and skyrim #this is another long one #good god it's long

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emo-floof-child-writes · 5 years ago

Text

The Sword of the Solstice

Chapter Ten: The Mage With The Burned Face.

A rooster crows somewhere. Katsuki’s eyes flutter open, and he starts to stand. He frowns, as he feels a lump lying in his lap. He looks down, and sees Ochaco lying in his lap. He sighs, as he hears two sets of horse hooves trotting closer. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE JUST DROPPED IN?! WHERE IS HE?” Katsuki freezes. Uh-oh, she’s back. He glances down at Ochaco. “I do not want to explain why this sleeping girl is in my lap.” He mumbles. He holds her head up while he slides free, and sets her head on the dew covered grass.

He stands up, and looks through the canopy of trees to see the sun just peaking over the horizon. He hears the horses whinny near him. He hears Masaru mutters something, and he turns to see Masaru, walking over with his head down. “Katsuki, you awake?” He asks, standing by the tent. Katsuki was about to respond when he heard a snarl from the person that scared him the most. “KATSUKI!” She shrieks, and Katsuki swallows. “O—over here, Mother...” He says, his voice failing him.

She marches over to him, her hand raised, as if she were going to slap him. “A whole year!” She says, smacking him across his face. Katsuki rubs his cheek, and recoils. “I— I’ve been busy! With quests, and stuff!” Katsuki protests, and Ochaco groans. “Is now a good time to be yelling?” She asks, half asleep. Katsuki’s mother grabs her axe, and lifts it over her shoulder, about to strike her with it. Katsuki’s eyes widen, and he grabs the axe.

“Mother, don’t!” He says, his voice unwillingly quivering. She scoffs. “You know this trespasser?” She asks, not lowering her axe. “She’s my companion...” His mother lowers her axe, and laughs. “Oh, is she now? She’s too pretty for you, you dull-minded child.” Katsuki gasps, his ears and face becoming red. “Um, not like that, Mother! She’s just a travelling companion...” He glances at Ochaco sheepishly. She sits up.

“Uh, y—yeah.” She says, pulling out some blades of grass. “I’m just a friend of his...” Katsuki’s mother scoffs again, as she slides her axe into her sheath on her back. “So you still haven’t found yourself a wife?” She asks, and Katsuki groans, tugging at his hair. Ochaco got the impression that this wasn’t the first time these two have had this conversation. She’d wouldn’t admit it to Katsuki, but she kind of felt disappointed at how fast he brushed off her. It’s not like she liked him, it’s just she felt that they were closer than just “travelling companions.”

Katsuki’s mother sighs. “Well, just know that you’re not getting younger.” She motions to Ochaco. “I assume you’re not here for a heartfelt reunion. You’re on one of your quests, right?” Katsuki nods. “We’re trying to stop Dendar—” He starts to say, but Katuski’s mother laughs, cutting him off. “Oh, are you now? Ha! Good luck defeating that demon. Look, you are gonna need to give up this ridiculous fantasy that you’re not gonna lead the Leenoans soon. You need to give up this ‘adventuring’ thing up.”

Ochaco grunts. “But this mission affects every corner of Theskyx!” She fumes. Masaru senses the tension that was brewing between the two, and walks over. “Mitsuki, dear.” He frets, in a shaky voice. “I think it’s the best option. There’s no need for this...” Katsuki sighs. “No, she’s right, Father.” Katsuki says, and Ochaco scoffs in disapproval. “So are you, Ochaco. You and the others should go after Light Bringer. I wouldn’t be much help anyway. I just hit stuff.”

Ochaco shakes her head. “No, you gotta come with us, at least wait until the others can discuss this!” She says, and Mitsuki grabs Katuki’s ear. “You sure you two are just friends?” She whispers, and Katsuki swats her hand away. Mitsuki smirks, as if she knew something Katsuki didn’t. He tries to ignore her, and places a hand on Ochaco shoulder. “I suppose we should get the others up.” He decides.

As if on cue, Izuku sticks his head out of the front of the tent. Katsuki walks over. “Deku, can you lead them on from here? I doubt my mother will let me leave with you, at least not yet.” Izuku frowns. “You’re sure about us going on ahead of you?” Katsuki grunts. “Tch, no. But you need to catch up to those Cultists. I’ll be fine. You can manage without me, right?” Izuku nods, and Ochaco shoves herself between them. “Izuku! You can’t really agree with this buffoon?” She says, motioning to Katsuki.

Izuku shrugs. “Well, I don’t want to be on his mother’s bad side. She’s loud.” Katsuki chuckles. Ochaco plants her feet. “Fine. Then I’m staying with Katsuki.” Both boys look shocked. “You scared of Loyaci, Cheeks?” Katsuki teases, and Izuku punches his arm. “We need you, Ochaco. You’re our main magic user.” She shakes her head. “My magic is unreliable. I haven’t felt right for days, since I removed that poison cloud... I realized that last night, when I...” She trails off, feeling embarrassed about falling asleep in Katsuki's lap.

Izuku looks down at the Solstice Sword, strapped to his belt. “Solstice hasn’t spoken to me since then.” Ochaco frowns. “That’s bad, right?” He sighs. “He said he has a recharge cycle, but I don’t know if that’s what’s happening.” Katsuki taps his chin, in thought, which Ochaco assumes must’ve taken a lot of brainpower. “Ochaco, I think it’s best you go with them.” She folds her arms across her chest. “No.” She says, her voice sure. “I am not leaving Katsuki here alone. I have a bad feeling about us splitting further, I'll admit, but I can’t leave him to his own devices.”

Katsuki frowns, noticing her right hand trembling. “You are scared.” He remarks, and she scowls. “I am not!” She bites her lip. In truth, she has been dreading returning to her home kingdom. All of the pain, the fear, and the darkness... She shudders. She takes a deep breath. “You don’t understand what I’ve seen there...what happened to me...” She feels a shiver run down her back, her hair standing on its ends. Katsuki remembers what she said about that man at Tsuyu’s Tavern.

“The man that cursed you as a servant of Dendar?” He asks, and Ochaco lets out a whine. “He told me I’d serve Dendar’s purpose someday... I fear that going there may be it.” The tremor in her hand stops. I guess finally telling someone made me feel calm. Both of them have a non-verbal conversation. They nod, and Izuku bows his head. “You two be safe, okay?” Izuku says. Katsuki bows back. “You too, Deku.” Izuku starts to head back in the tent.

“Izuku, wait.” Ochaco says, and Izuku turns. “Please tell the others that I’m sorry that I won’t be taking the journey with them.” Izuku nods. “Of course.” He wakes the others, Eijiro was the hardest to drag out of bed. Izuku tells the other what was happening, and they were surprisingly okay with the plans. By the time they were out, Ochaco felt guilty. You coward, these people are risking their lives to save Shoto, but she was hiding. In the long run, this was good. She tells herself, but she knows she’s lying.

Izuku gets on his horse, and Momo climbs onto hers. Eijiro walks alongside, and upon both Momo and Izuku offering for him to ride with them, he said no. Katsuki got the feeling that he’d turn into a dragon once they left the village. As they leave, Katsuki wraps his arm around Ochaco. “They’ll be fine.” He assures her, but she frowns. Will they? What if by not being there, I’m fulfilling what I was supposed to do for Dendar? She grits her teeth. No, I will not let that happen. They will be safe.

She wonders if she convinced herself that this was the right choice that it would end in good for her friends. She doubted it. She sees Mitsuki walk over, who smiles. She seemed nice, if not a little strict. Ochaco especially liked how nervous Katsuki was around her, it made her feel better about being intimidated by her. Not to mention his fear was amusing. “You two sure you’re not courting?” She asks, for what feels like the tenth time to Ochaco.

“Mother! I am not courting Ochaco!” He says, clearly feeling as exasperated as Ochaco. She winks. “Mm-hmm, okay, son.” She walks away, and Katsuki sighs. “I’m sorry about her. She sees a girl remotely near me, she assumes I’m courting them.” Ochaco laughs. “Probably because the only girls that would stand near you are interested in you, but that number must be small.” She jokes. He rolls his eyes.

“So does that mean you like me?” He says, grinning. She frowns. He had her trapped. If she said no, her joke wouldn’t be funny, but if she said yes, well... She decides to not say anything. She watches as the young men run towards that dueling ground that Katsuki mentioned the day before. “What are they doing?” She asks, and he laughs. “It’s a culture thing, someone is getting a wife.”

She frowns. “‘Getting a wife’? What do you mean?” He grabs her wrist. “Here, let me show you.” He drags her to some stands, and sits down. Confused, she sits down next to him. A man about Katsuki age walks up to them. “You gonna fight today, Katsu?” He asks, and Katsuki laughs. “No, I don’t wanna get married to some random girl.” The man sighs. “You need to get married sometime!” Katsuki’s shoulders slump. “So I’ve been told.”

The man leaves, and Ochaco raises an eyebrow. “‘Katsu’ is a cute nickname.” He grunts. “If you start calling me that, I’ll break your kneecaps with my warhammer.” He grumbles, and she giggles. “So what does fighting have to with getting a wife?” She asks, and he leans back. “Here in Leeno, the single men in the village have a tournament when they’re marrying off one of their daughters. Whoever wins gets to marry the young woman.”

She frowns. “To the death?” She asks, worried. He shakes his head. “No, that is forbidden. Especially after my father got to marry my mother.” She looks at Masaru, who sits in the stands behind them. “He fought for her? He looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly.” Katsuki nods. “He wouldn’t. You see, at the time, there were 3 people competing to become Chieftain, as Mother was his daughter. One got killed, the killer was disqualified, so my Father got the victory by default.”

She nods. “Does the girl get a say in any of this?” Katsuki sits up. “Not usually, unless it’s a draw. Then she may choose between the two competitors.” She stomps her foot. “That’s kind of unfair to the girl.” Katsuki wraps his arm around her, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I never fight. The others being the girls are boring and they can’t fend for themselves. Let’s just say my parents are an enigma here.”

She pokes him. “So you are being rebellious about your culture’s traditions.” He scoffs. “It’s not even that. I feel like adventuring is my true job, not heir to a tribe. Too much pressure, y’know?” She looks down at the two men fighting below, she watches their parry and thrust, the clang of iron against brass ringing throughout the area. “At least your mother didn’t sacrifice herself to give you demonic magic that could end the world of Theskyx.” As soon as she said this, she regretted it.

She slams her hand over her mouth. He frowns. “Your mother was a part of the Cult of Dendar?” He asks. She sighs. She had meant to keep all of this a secret, but she trusted that Katsuki wouldn’t recoil at her story. He is a good listener. “When I was 16, my mother and I went into our house, which had chalk sigils on the floor. That wasn’t weird, I knew Mama practiced magic...” She takes a shaky breath.

“She shoved into the chalk circle, tied me up and—” She swallows. Katsuki realizes her fear. “You don’t have to tell me—” She grips her staff tightly. “NO! I-I want to. She and a bunch of other people stood at the edge of the circle. The man who cursed me, he uh, had a scar on his face. It looked like a burn, but it was a handprint.” She sighs. “My mother and the others sacrificed themselves, turning into purple light, which the man siphoned into himself. I heard a hiss, and a shadow drowned out all of the light in the room. The man then transferred that light into me.”

Katsuki sighs. “Wow, no wonder you are so terrified of Loyaci.” He says, and she whimpers. “I don’t want to be their pawn.” Katsuki hugs her from the side. “Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen.” He says, and she smirks. “Aw, you’re gonna protect me?” He chuckles. “You don’t need me to protect you, but I will help you if things get too bad.” She smiles. “Thanks, Katsu.” He growls. “I said I’d break your kneecaps if you called me that.” He says, reaching for his warhammer, which was lying on the floor beside him.

“If you were actually gonna use that, would you really be saying things about keeping me safe?” She asks, and he lets go off the warhammer. “Just don’t call me that.” He says, in a soft voice. She frowns. “Why is it wrong for me to call you that?” She asks, studying his expression. He sighs. “Nothing is wrong with it, I just find it childish. Everyone here treats me like a child, not an adult.” He looks down at the fighters, and scoffs. “I’m 26, but I feel like I’m 6 or something here.”

She pats his arm. “Is that why you get so upset when I tease you about your intelligence? Is it too demeaning?” He shakes his head. “Nah, I know you mean it in good fun, but here, I mean I grew up here! They’ve known me my whole life, and they think I’m weak or something.” She watches as a man defeats his competitor, and sighs. “I think you’re really strong, Katsuki, mature even. If they can’t see that, then they don’t know what they’re missing.” He chuckles. “You’re right. I shouldn’t try to please them or be good enough for them. I should instead work myself up to my own standard, because I know I am mature. They’ll see it eventually.” She smiles. “That’s the spirit!” She says, hitting his arm.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Meanwhile, Shoto hears the voice of Dendar in his head. “You will be a great sacrifice to my demonic army.” It was feminine in tone, but it sounded like ten people all talking at the same time. Shoto struggles against his bonds. “No, I refuse to be a part of your cult.” He mutters. “You have no choice..” She responds, with a hiss. Shoto growls. “I’ll resist you until the day I die.” He responds. Himiko, who was behind him, gasps.

“You can hear her, can’t you?” She asks, with a giggle. Shoto stays silent. In front of them, Dabi stops. “I can see the Leronee River, but I don’t see Jin at the bridge. Either he forgot, or he hasn’t arrived.” Himiko frowns. “Awwww! We have to wait?!” She says, and Shoto makes a small smile. Good. More time wasted for me to make a plan to free myself and get out. “You’re just delaying the inevitable. I will get you to my side.” Dendar says, and Shoto digs his nails into palms, gritting his teeth.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He says, in a whisper. He looks up at the noon day sun, and sighs. I refuse to break my Paladin Oath, I will always be a Paladin of light. Lathander, please forgive me. I let the enemy take me over. Dabi shoves Shoto to the ground. “We’re going to wait here until the evening. If he’s not here by then, we’ll keep moving. So hang tight, Your Highness, we’re almost there.”

Shoto glares at him, and he chuckles. “Oh, right. You’re the Prince of a Forgotten Kingdom.” Dabi says, and Himiko giggles again. “Yeah, you’re a useless leader who can’t even defend 20 peasant families. You call yourself a Prince? Even a paladin?” Shoto knows that they were trying to aggravate him. From the studies in Paladin school, Dendar likes to use anger as a fuel for possession. All Shoto needs to do is control his temper. Thankfully, he was trained to meditate away angry thoughts for such a time as this.

He folds his hands, and bows his head. He closes his eyes, and concentrates on his breathing. In and out, in and out, again and again. “Wow, this guy really thinks he can combat our Mistress.” Dabi comments. Himiko nods. “Yeah, so did that other paladin, the girl with the ponytail.” Shoto’s eyes flutter open. Lady Momo? Dabi sense that he found a soft spot for Shoto, and yawns. “Yeah, she was pretty pathetic.”

Shoto tries to keep his breathing even, but Himiko nods. “Yeah, did she really think that she could overtake the both of us?! She must’ve been stupid to think she could beat the Vanguard Magic Squad, Dendar’s Elite!” Shoto yells, and purple mist spreads around them. “Don’t talk about her that way!” He roars, as his binds disintegrate into nothing. He stands, and they smile. “I said we should’ve mentioned the girl sooner!” Himiko says.

Shoto lifts his hand, and in a language he doesn't know, he screams what seems to be incantation. Their smiles fade, as purple energy blast out towards the cultists, and it consumes them. Their dust floats away in the wind. Shoto kneels, and whispers a prayer of protection from evil, which turned to a prayer of forgiveness. As he looks down at his hands, he hears horses behind him, beyond the Leronee River. “Lathander, protect me.” He says, although he doubts that he can be saved from his fate.

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bestworstcase · 5 years ago

Note

bro can you just do like the entire ever on meme, I could read your headcanons and commentary all day (but for real, your takes are super interesting!)

a n o n. bsdhfsdh

How many kids do you want Rapunzel and Eugene to have?

in all honesty i Literally could not care less. maybe twins as a nod to the original fairytale, but like, a good ten years into the future. rapunzel deserves a nice long stint of just Living Her Best Life before she even thinks about having kids

Where do you want or see Cass going?

answered here. also, self indulgently, in my head at some point she ends up in antares, which is a city-state near the dark kingdom which i developed for bitter snow. it’s big and old and crowded and given that it’s built on top of a bunch of huge black rocks we’re going to just... ignore what happened to the black rocks in canon when the sundrop and moonstone fused, k?

What are some of Queen Rapunzel’s new policies?

blah! i like to think she would also institute widespread public schooling, because she’s so curious and so many of her skills are self taught out of passion and personal interest and i think she would want to inculcate those values in the children of her subjects. coronan literacy skyrockets under her reign

What will Varian think of next?

i think it’s sort of funny to take varian at his word when he calls himself an alchemist and assume he is, in fact, in a perpetual state of trying to make a philosopher’s stone.

How many partners will Cass have, if any at all?

i mean look at her she could have her pick of any gay woman on the continent. um. in bitter snow she dates or has flings with 2... people, maybe 3 depending on how exactly we define “dates.”

What will Captain do now?

he will grow an ever more glorious beard. also this.

How will Hector, Adira, and Edmund live in the Dark Kingdom again?

they’re going to have a very welcoming immigration policy otherwise dark kingdom 2: electric boogaloo is not going to last for very long, now is it.

i think adira will spend a lot of time being the voice of reason considering that edmund lived in total isolation for twenty-five years and went a bit funny while hector lived in total isolation for twenty-five years and turned into a feral tree man and then got possessed. i also think the dark kingdom will be instrumental in the development of fantasy-telegraphs, because they do after all have a pretty pressing reason to do so

How are Stalyan and Brock doing?

stalyan met brock in, like, a dive bar somewhere and went oh my god you have to come to corona with me and pretend to be my date it’ll be so fucking funny so that’s what they did. anyway caine happened to be out on parole at the time and they bumped into each other and stalyan was like 👀 and caine was like 👀 and they’re pirate queens now. stalyan and brock are still bros.

How are the Stabbingtons doing?

they’re like three months away from getting out for good behavior. eugene is so proud.

How many times will Andrew keep trying to escape?

He Will Never Stop

How will Vex and Quaid rebuild Vardaros?

i mean we’re all basically agreed that quaid is an expy of sam vimes, right? right? which is to say they’re going to drag vardaros kicking and screaming out of the hole its in through sheer raw stubbornness and innate sense of justice and fair play. also at some point quaid is going to arrest a dragon, probably

How will the Baron react to Stalyan dating Brock?

you think stalyan is still in contact with her shitty dad? HA! it is to laugh

How are Hookfoot and Seraphina doing?

seraphina did several months of community service due to her sentence being considerably lightened after her willing return of the stolen pearl and she has since gotten her life in order and is doing a tour of the coastline with hookfoot while she tries to figure out what she wants to do with her life instead. possibly she will become a singer, since she is, as you’ll recall, immensely talented in this department.

How will the Pub Thugs react to reuniting with the Hook Brothers again?

all i know is big nose is going to ask seraphina if she has any mermaid friends she could set him up with and she is going to give him the most withering look on the planet and he’s going to write bad, sad poetry about it for at least a week. also there will be a dance party

Will Varian talk to Quirin about his mother?

my headcanon is that varian is old enough to remember his mother, and that she died when he was perhaps eight or nine. i think after the series quirin would understand that shutting down and refusing to talk about things with varian doesn’t help either of them so they will be able to have normal conversations about her sometimes.

Will Varian have his own adventure?

in all honesty i don’t think about post-series varian all that much outside of the canonical royal engineer thing so instead i’m going to talk about bitter snow varian and say that: yes, he gets a hell of a lot more adventure than he ever bargained for.

Does Varian have a room in the Castle now? Or does he stay in Old Corona?

i mean he’s like sixteen i assume he’s still living with his dad for at least a couple more years. he’s more urban than quirin is so when he comes of age i think he’ll eventually get himself a nice little flat in corona somewhere.

Will Faith stay as Rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting? If so, will they be close friends?

i think in once a handmaiden faith booked herself passage on the next carriage to koto and is living her best life there. it’s what she deserves

Will Nigel ever reunite with a dragon again?

[gets on my soapbox] nigel’s story is a cautionary tale about the perils of taking wild animals out of the wild and attempting to keep them as pets and having seen firsthand the dangers of doing so nigel is never going to make the same mistake again. however, he learns to appreciate them as they are, in their natural habitat, living as they please, and will one day found a dragonspotting club. [/gets off my soapbox]

Will Eugene ever talk to Edmund about his mother?

yes and edmund will tell eugene like nine million stories about her and show him the letters she wrote for their son on her deathbed and eugene will realize that he actually has more in common, personality-wise, with his mom than his dad and will end up feeling very close to her even though he never got the chance to know her.

Is Lance still smitten over Adira?

nah not really, though he still admires her very much and i think they end up having a decent friendship. they’re foodie buddies and whenever she passes through corona she teaches the girls survival skills or practices fighting techniques with them.

Did Max and Pascal rescue the wedding cake?

probably

Will Varian and Cassandra keep in touch?

i think she’ll keep in touch with him as much as she keeps in touch with any of team corona, really. they’re friends but not especially close, yknow?

Who will Cass run into on her adventures?

like i said in one of the other asks i think she passes through ingvarr at some point and maybe bumps into the princesses there. i definitely think she encounters caine and stalyan at least a couple times in contexts that range from adversarial to reluctant allies. the idea of her passing through vardaros and helping quaid and vex out with some mystery is kind of fun.

Will Cass become a famous adventurer or live elusively?

cass is going to fall into the sam vimes camp of her reputation preceding her completely by accident

Who will be at Rapunzel and Eugene’s child(ren)’s christening(s)?

i assume, like, all the important people. fred and arianna and edmund, lance, varian, cass if she’s around. plus they’re royalty so like, a lot of noble types and diplomats and whatnot.

What will Rapunzel and Eugene name their children?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Who from their adventures will Rapunzel and Eugene visit? The Lorbs? Calliope? King Trevor? Vex and Quaid?

i think there will be occasional trips to the dark kingdom via hot air balloon and they’ll probably check in on vardaros from time to time. can’t see them visiting calliope unless they absolutely have to. diplomatic visits with equis are... probably unavoidable, but filled with Regret. i think the lorbs would probably be happier if the crazy fleinfloofers didn’t keep coming back to the island to trigger horb the lorb’s various failed magical cures for depression, all things considered.

Will Rapunzel make amends with Lady Caine? Will she pardon her father and let him reunite with Lady Caine?

i think caine’s dad is dead. and i think rapunzel would try to make amends, but caine is in the category of... things can’t always be made better? her father was taken from her in a horribly traumatizing way and then in all likelihood either executed (remember that corona canonically hangs thieves) or died on a prison barge years ago, and there’s nothing rapunzel can realistically do to make that better. sometimes an apology isn’t enough, you know? i think she could provide caine with some closure by helping her find out exactly what happened to him, but caine would never harbor any positive feelings for corona or for rapunzel.

Will Cassandra settle in Corona, abroad, or remain indefinitely itinerant?

i think she’ll eventually settle down but i also see her as developing a real love for travel and continuing to do it frequently even after she finds her home base, so to speak. i also tend to lean on the side of she comes back to corona to visit but doesn’t have enough positive connections to the place to ever feel completely at home there.

Will Madame Canardist ever learn of Vigor’s origins?

madame canardist is a racist romani caricature and i don’t like thinking about her if i can possibly help it. it leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.

Will Varian rebuild any of Demanitus’ work?

dunno, maybe? varian is a demanitus fanboy for sure and if he encountered a demanitus blueprint for a machine that he could put to good use i think he’d absolutely build it at the first opportunity. i can see him rebuilding the weather device just in case zhan tiri’s blizzard were to reoccur, for example. but also, a lot of demanitus’s inventions were pretty dangerous (see: the portal to the lost realm, the body-switching ray) and varian as of season three has learned his lesson about doing Reckless Science so i think he would approach with a certain amount of caution.

Will Cass be nervous when meeting her New Dream nieces and nephews?

...a bit? maybe? i guess? prior to this i spent literally 0 braincells thinking about new dream children so i dunno. i’m not a kid person and i rarely if ever speculate about non-canonical children of fictional couples. she’d be the fun adventuring family friend i suppose.

#rta #w h e w #Anonymous

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