#it’s never like that with thunder and hawk swoop and her family

[bowiestarzzz]

People are trying to tell me it’s incest to ship lightning tail and thunder lmaooooooooo this fandom is truly wild

[bonebabbles]

What are your thoughts on Thunder himself, btw?

ughhh I want to like him, I like the IDEA of him, but he sucks just as much as everyone else.

We get our proper introduction to him in Thunder Rising, Book 2, through a magic dream with his dead mom who "Feels Right And Loving" unlike his 'adopted' mom, Hawk Swoop

DOTC HATES adoption. His sole interaction with Jackdaw is finding out that actually he resents him because he suckled from his wife. Incredibly unpleasant

That's not an issue with Thunder himself, exactly, but this series is deadset on concluding Adoption Bad like a moth making a beeline for open flame and this character is used for that purpose.

It is important to remember that characters are storytelling tools... and Thunder is a brush to paint an ugly picture.

So Jackdaw, Hawk, Acorn, and Lightning occupy a shitty space where they're not his family, but closer than friends, with whatever book you're in flipping wildly between these things

Lightning Tail really suffers here because he is most compelling when the series accidentally hates women so much it clips into looking gay. The first time I was legitimately invested in Blazing Star was when LT seemed jealous of Thunder spending time with Star Flower.

And speaking of that; Thunder's romantic relationships are some of the absolute worst in a series that is already rock bottom

Him and Star Flower are not compelling, it's not cute, it's boring. This is slop.

Same with Violet Dawn, who appears out of thin air later to be his wife because god forbid a single member of Clear Sky's family go maidenless

In his early appearances, he's already whining about His Faaather despite Sun Trail closing out on the famous line where Gray Wing announces, "ILL be his father from now on."

It's a huge let down from the previous book, which ends on such a good note. Absolute waste of setup.

That Magic Dead Mom dream, btw, is her saying that one day she'll "Help His Faaaaaaaaaaaather see the good in himself" so right from the get-go, Thunder is set up to be responsible for saving his piece of shit dad.

I can't lie; I think that is a downright evil trope and I'm immediately uncharitable towards any piece of media that peddles it unironically. No, you CANNOT SAVE your abusive parents through being a good child. People who put this in books for minors should choke. In minecraft

So the moments that I LOVE Thunder are when he's rejecting that idea, like in First Battle where he spits at Clear Sky and tells him "I will never be cruel."

THAT'S my favorite Thunder, that's who I wish he was. Someone who cuts through Gray Wing's quibbling to speak the truth, for justice, for righteousness.

But unfortunately that's rarely who he is. Most of the time, he completely unironically swoons and fawns when Daddy Looks At Him.

He is also really bad about towing Gray Wing's line at times, like when he was freaking out that the Moor cats wanted to train for combat as Clear Sky was becoming more violent towards the border, cheering on public 'gladiator' style battles between his own cats

And the constant crying about Self Defense Makes You Just As Bad is insufferable. Which, of course, they've just unceremoniously dropped now that One Eye is an Evil Foreigner who hurt Clear Sky's feelings

The most consistent thing about him is, unfortunately, that he's annoying. He wants Clear Sky's approval and the page has to remind you about this constantly. He joins the same Clear Sky Pity Party that everyone else does in Blazing Star, totally forgetting the first three books where he was an abusive monster completely responsible for every bad thing that happened.

Thunder deserves so much better than this. The writing is a disservice to how complicated and painful it feels when your beloved family loves someone who's bad for them, for you, and for everyone. But unfortunately, DOTC is Clear Sky's story, and every other character revolves around his pathetic "redemption arc."

[bonefall]

Was reading about your plans for Thunder, but something kind of bothered me, because isn’t Lightning Tail his adopted brother?

In canon... ehh kinda?

DOTC HATES adoption. The last time that Jackdaw's Cry and Thunder speak before Jackdaw is taken hostage (and dies in the First Battle that follows), is how much Jackdaw resented him for suckling from his wife as a baby. Thunder dreams of his dead mom and how she "feels right" unlike Hawk Swoop who doesn't. He was also apparently speaking-age when Storm died, able to tell his rescuers that his mother didn't name him yet.

Even cats like Sparrow, Pebble, and Owl who never knew their bioparents, or that they weren't sired by the man who raised them, drop the parent who raised them when their bioparent walks into the scene.

Canon hates adoption; I don't. So obviously I try to make sure to fix it when it comes up because I do count adopted siblings as real siblings.

(Note though-- just because a cat was wet nursed by someone who wasn't their biomom does not mean they are an "adopted" sibling. Stormfur/Feathertail are not the "adopted siblings" of Brambleclaw/Tawnypelt just because they were allonursed)

But Thunder Storm isn't adopted by Hawk Swoop in BB, Bright Storm is alive well into his childhood. He's 4 months old when she dies and remembers her very well. Thunder Storm's parents are Bright Storm and Gray Wing.

So Lightning Cry and Acorn Swoop are his childhood friends in BB, marked by the fact that he doesn't share a last name. Lightning and Acorn also now both have last names inherited from their parents-- Jackdaw Cry and Hawk Swoop!

Thunder Storm is the last remaining member of the Storm Family.

[midnightmoonkiss]

How To Train A Demon

An adorable visual of Demon!Deku by @birds-have-teeth !!💙

Demon!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who knew you’d be teaching a man from the underworld your way of life, and who knew you’d slowly start to fall in love with the very being you were taught to fear?

WARNINGS! None!

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 12k

A/N: Day 12 of the Izumonth collab! 

I had to split it into two parts due to limited time with editing, so the second part will be posted shortly after the collab ends!

I also want to thank @1a-imagines for helping me edit and find a good stopping point with this fic! I would not have finished it in time if it werent for her and her amazing talents! 

Just To Clarify:

Takes place in early-ish Japan during the summer!

I did not do my history homework..

Reader does not have a job, and lives alone on the side of a mountain.

They say dark and stormy nights always bring chaos and misfortune.

That the scariest of tales are bred from the harsh splatter of rain on parched ground, the crackle of lightning in the sky illuminating the monsters that lurk deep in the shadows.

They always warn to fear those nights, to keep a lantern on and a knife under your pillow, for you never know what nefarious being is waiting to strike during your most vulnerable state.

And for the most part, it was true. Believable. 

Of course, how could you not believe in such stories?

They were what you grew up with, what you were lectured with, a lesson repeatedly bashed into your skull from the minute you could understand them.

Everyone feared those nights.

Everyone feared the darkness.

It was always something so easy to be afraid of without even really being given a viable reason as to why other than tales passed on for generations.

You fear what you do not understand.

Especially those who lived alone, people like you.

People who needed fear to keep them alive more than the next person.

A small house on the mountainside, surrounded by thick forests and shrines to gods of ancient times. Lands protected and blessed by predecessors, symbols carved into trees and painted on rocks to banish the evil. 

But alone you lived, alone your fears manifested into a ball of terror-filled paranoia, regardless of anyone’s true sense of reason.

Could you always rely on a symbol to keep you safe?

This particular night would unknowingly bring those fears to life.

But then again, it’s impossible to expect the unexpected, regardless of what others may say or encourage.

Thunder clapped loudly in the sky as rain assaulted your wooden rooftop, something usually so peaceful amplified by the altitude and sounding like a million dancers stomping on the old wood, dragging you into a restless sleep as stray drops drip from your ceiling, echoing in a metal pan at the far side of your room from a leak you had yet to repair.

Body curled into a ball, you gasped involuntarily when a bright flash illuminated your room, followed immediately by the raging roar of the sky as it split in two once again.

It was safe to say you would suffer through another sleepless night, fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your poor pillow as you fought to maintain a steady breath as the violent storm raged on outside, howling winds only adding to the dreadful abundance of creepy noises.

Nights like these you wished you weren’t alone.

Perhaps you would have been less afraid if your deceased family didn’t decide to live on the mountain instead of in the valley.

Though you desired to move down there where lanterns illuminated the sky at night, you couldnt abandoned what little you had left of your kin.

Instead, you sucked it up, like you always managed to do.

You were an adult, after all, one that theoretically should have been married already, but alas.

You craved freedom more than you craved to be tied down by a ring of false promises. That, and the fact that typically parents were the ones who set up marriages.

As another bang of thunder rang out in the night, you squeezed your tired eyes closed, imagining someone was there with you, wrapped securely in their embrace, even if just for a moment. Someone there to calm your breath down, to protect you from the loneliness that stabbed at your weeping heart.

Whimpering, your legs rubbed together as a cold chill filtered into the room, creeping up your spine as goosebumps ran down your skin, the garment you wore doing next to nothing at keeping you warm.

Perhaps you should have kept the fireplace going..  An old, rusty oil lantern with a small flame could only do so much. Then again, it was more of a light source than a heat source, so you couldn’t really complain.

With a huff, you dragged the thick covers over your head, sealing in what little warmth you had.

It was like a warm cocoon, almost. A little bundle of protection. You could barely even see the flashes anymore, but that just meant the thunder would swoop down on you like a hawk, startling you every time.

But what else is one to do other than to wait out the storm?

The sun would rise eventually, just as it always has and just as it always will.

Since the beginning of time, the sun blessed the lands with a golden glow, shrouding its children in warmth and love. The moon was like it’s bitter sister, cold and cruel, taking away the light that led her people through her darkness.

Some nights she was merciful, and others- gone from the sky completely.

This night just happened to be one of those nights.

So not only was it violent, rainy, and cold, this night was also one without any true lights.

Stars were a blessing in disguise, their brightness concerningly dim.

At least you had your lantern and that dirty old katana your father left behind.

You were safe.

At least you thought you were, but a sudden cry bellowing through the night tore the thick atmosphere apart, sending chills down your spine and making the grip on your blanket as tight as ever.

What.. was that?

It sounded almost like..

Like a wounded animal..

Just then, a flash of light blinded your vision, a sickening roar accompanying it. The ground shook as you whimpered, eyes wide with fear.

A bolt must have struck close to home..

It’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Breath heavy and body shaking, you comforted yourself with logic- an old friend you abandoned.

An animal just got hurt, was all. Perhaps a tree fell on it, or maybe it got attacked by another animal!?

It might even have been that howling wind that acted up sometimes! 

Everything was okay.

It’s okay.

Nothing to fear.

It’s just a storm.

Just a storm.

Just a storm.

You’re safe.

You’re inside.

The light guides you, the charms protect you, the shrines embrace you.

You’re okay.

It’s just a storm.

It’s just a

SCRSSSSHHHHH!! 

CRASH!

“AHHH!”

A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat as something suddenly crashed through your window, the loud sound of wood tearing apart and clanging to the floor was followed by a heavy thud and the splash of rain on your padded floor at the gaping hole given to it.

Screaming in terror, your frantic hand grabbed the blade at your side, shaking body scrambling backwards to the other side of the wall, pulling it from its sheath.

You were trapped, you had no exit!

The only exit you had was where whatever the fuck that is just crashed!

Oh gods!

You’re going to die!

This was it!

A fucking storm!

A fucking goddamn storm!

God, you were a fool!

Hyperventilation crept up on you like a venomous snake, its cold body constricting tightly around your chest and throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and freezing your numb fingers.

You were scared shitless, that was for sure, and all you could do was helplessly stare with wavering eyes at a large, haunting silhouette in the corner of the room. The small light, now seemingly miles away, providing next to no coverage of this massive figure, only gifting the room more horrific shadows.

You wanted this to be a dream, that what the elders warned wasn’t true.

This was just a nightmare.

A scary nightmare your mind conjured up like it always did.

Rain splattered against your sickly pale face, the droplets mixing with the burning hot tears that poured down your cheeks as you fought to keep a steady hand and to slide up the wall to stand.

Old, dull blade pointing forward, you couldn’t help by cry out as the dark figure moves ever so slightly.

A crash of light drowns out your sobs, swallowing the room in a dull white glow for a mere moment, enough of a moment to give you a glimpse of this creature.

You wish you hadn’t seen it, that you indulged in your ignorance for a moment, that you didn’t see the way large, black wings sprouted from the back of a human.

Horns glistened with water atop its head, long tail thrashing wildly as its body moved to get up.

Your breathing stopped the minute it opened its eyes, a vicious, glowing green staring off at the destruction it caused.

Heart roaring in your ears, you did nothing but stare.

It was as if your blood had ran as cold, for all you could think to do was to silently pray to the gods that everything would be okay.

That your life would not end.

That you would still have a chance to become what you were supposed to be, and not die a lonely child by the hands of a beast.

Suddenly, its eyes snapped to your own, wide pupils turning into menacing slits as it gazed at you with malice, an animalistic growl rumbling in its chest, sharp teeth that could easy rip your throat out on full display.

Blade slipping from your numb hands, black dots spotted your vision as you promptly fainted from fear, accepting death in its imminent wake as your knees crash against the floor.

‘So this truly was the end’.. You thought to yourself as you body drifted lifelessly in a void of black, fingers outstretched as if reaching for something that would never be there.

Death was always something to think about, the burning question always attacking your mind as to how exactly you would die. You figured you’d be mawed to death by a wild boar of sorts, tusks tearing through the ligaments in your legs, praying you’d die from bleeding out before its teeth dug into your skin, eating you alive.

Or perhaps you’d die as most women do these days, walking alone before you’re kidnapped by an enemy.

Death by what could only be described as a demon never truly crossed your mind despite you being warned by it.

It seemed impossible.

Why would a demon want you of all people?

Though, you were.. an easy prey.

‘I’m sorry..’ you whispered to yourself, hoping your words of sincerity would cross the plains of existence and comfort those you would ultimately leave behind, which wasn’t many, and those you were soon to visit. You let your eyes slip shut to close off the suffocating abyss, embracing death.

“Ugh!” you groaned uncomfortably as a bright light assaulted your closed eyes, dragging you from your sleep.

No.. was this sleep?

You couldn’t be too optimistic..

Turning over, your back promptly blocked out the headache-inducing light, bare arm coming up to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as you blinked in your surroundings.

Well.

There wasn’t really anything to look at since you were facing a wall.

More specifically, your bedroom wall. A simple, faded, dark wood design.

Humming, your fingers tap against the tatami floor, chewing on your lip as you struggled to comprehend the beating of your own heart.

Were you alive?

It was hard to tell, you didn’t exactly have an accurate depiction of the afterlife.

Oh boy. 

If you were dead, your family would kill you again no doubt for dying so early.

Of course, you can never please your ancestors, especially if you don’t leave something behind to continue your family’s lineage.

Maybe it was a good thing that you were dead, actually.

It didn’t take but a moment to notice the unusually loud sounds of nature attacking your ears and the wet, earthy scent flooding your nose.

The rain had ceased, and the morning birds were singing their usual cheerful tune.

The delicate jingle of your wind chime could be heard as it swayed ever so gently in the wind, having previously been frantically dinging all night long.

At least you were welcomed with open arms to your afterlife, after promptly being murdered by some weird fucking overgrown bat demon.

Who knows, maybe it wasn’t a demon.

Demons didn’t look like that? No, they were much creepier, but it wasn’t like you had anything real to compare it to.

Grumbling to yourself, you ran a hand through your messy hair, finding the oily, tangled mess utterly disgusting.

You really should take a bath soon.

Does the afterlife have baths?

You would throw a fit if not, you need your weekly soak, even if the water wasn’t that warm.

You’d be damned if you didn’t get a minute to relax and destress.

But then again, is there even stress here?

You’d have to find out later, for now, you should stop staring at your dirty old wall like some sort of lunatic, give this whole afterlife a go.

Slapping your bare thighs, eyes sparkling with determination you go to turn around before promptly screaming your heart out as fright squeezed the life out of you once more.

Large, snake-like green eyes bore into your own, only a hair length away.

Throat dry, you flung yourself back against the wall as you fought to scramble away, only for this creature to follow your every movement as you pushed yourself into a corner.

All you could see was green.

Green.

The type of green that reminded you of toxic flames erupting from an innocents body as it succumbs to possession.

You swore you were dead, but perhaps you have yet to meet your untimely end.

“Please!”

You cried, tears pouring down your raw cheeks as your arms wrapped protectively around your head, “Please don’t hurt me!” sobbing, you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting.

Waiting was always a horrifying game, you never knew when the waiting would stop and when you could breathe again.

But death never greeted you.

It was odd in a way.

It was as if you were expecting so much, that to not be given it was even more confusing.

Lips wobbling, you slowly peaked your eye open, breathless as you noticed this human-like creature suddenly at the other end of the room, clawed fingers tapping together at it shifted nervously from bare foot to foot.

…

What the-?

“I-i’m so sorry! I, I must’ve scared you so much… I’m really sorry!”

You stared in shock as this… man fell to his knees, thumping his forehead onto the floor in an apologetic bow, wings bent and folded at his sides.

You were speechless.

Truly, what the hell?

Was this even real?

You couldn’t tell anymore.

This all seemed so questionable.

It was certainly what crashed through your home- of fuck!

Gasping, you finally got a good luck at the true destruction.

Oh, your window was completely ruined! Broken wood stuck out everywhere, even looking at it made you feel like you were going to get a splinter!

How are you supposed to fix that when you haven’t a coin to your name?

Fuck.

Wait.

Oh, right!

There was!

This creature!

What the hell.

Breathing heavily, you fought to calm yourself down as you got a good look at this thing.

Its hair was messy, mud, twigs, and leaves entangling itself in its thick, dark green curls. It was hard to ignore the two large black horns atop its head, locks wrapping almost possessively around them.

Pointy ears caught your attention, a strange earpiece dangling from one with an upside-down, obsidian Christian cross.

Of course, what mostly caught your attention were the two large black wings sprouting from its scarred back, a thin black tail idly swaying back and forth.

His cream-colored skin was wet with water, dotted with freckles, and littered with scars varying in sizes.

All and all, you were dumbfounded.

Eyes bouncing around the room, you looked for your sword, desperate for some sort of protection, something you could say you tried to fight it off with if worse came to inevitable worse.

Oh!

There!

It was only a few feet away from you, and do as you must, you slowly crept forward, crawling on your hands and knees, sneaking around in hopes it wouldn’t lift its head and pounce on you.

Unfortunately, you pressed on a particularly creaky floorboard, and its head snapped up, fear causing you to jump for the sword before shakily aiming it at the demon once more.

“S-stay back!” you warned with a wavering voice, though you knew for a fact you looked like a crying child who could do no real harm.

Eyes stared into each other once more, this time from a safer distance. You were just about to speak again when it spoke up, its voice a calmer and not as frantic, “You’re holding that wrong.”

“Excuse me?” you answered without a beat, astonishment lacing your words as curiosity rose onto your face, how on earth did this thing know that?

“You’re holding the katana wrong,” it pointed at your hands on its handle, sharp black fingernail catching your ultimate attention, “You shouldn’t hold it just at the bottom, you need to space your hands out more. You would not be a threat to anyone if you hold it like that.”

Was… was it seriously lecturing you right now? 

Eye twitching with annoyance, you slid your hands into the position described, “Just like that! Perfect!” it smiled brightly at you, green eyes slipping closed as it praised you like a teacher to a student who did good.

“Shut up!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet, flames of anger igniting within your body as you took a step forward.

With an inhuman screech, its wings folded protectively around its body, “Ack! I’m sorry! I just wanted to help you!”

What is going on?!

This, this wasn’t! This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now, right?? It was just about to kill you!

Could you even call it an "it", it looks like a man!

Is it a man? How do demons work!

Why is this happening right now!

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, and it was beyond infuriating!

“Who and what are you!” you snarled out, surprise blossoming in your eyes at the sheer ferocity you just displayed, but annoyance sure is a force to be reckoned with.

Wings cracking open ever so slightly, and you can just barely see an innocent green eye peaking out. 

“M-My name is Midoriya.. Midoriya Izuku.. I’m.. I am a.. I know it sounds weird, but I’m a demon..”

So you were right.

This is a demon, just not one you were used to.

Yokai was what they’re called here, red, devilish creatures that sought destruction.

This certainly wasn’t a yokai, surely, despite his cheeks being a subtle red.

“I mean you no harm..” he meekly whispered, unfolding his large wings just to put his hands in the air, defenseless.

You weren’t convinced.

But then again, what were you supposed to do?

It wasnt as if you were taught how to handle a situation where an animal crashes into your house in the middle of a thunderstorm just to be there the next morning watching you sleep like some sort of creepy stalker.

When life gives you lemons, though, right?

Well, you hated lemons.

Or, at least these lemons.

No, that doesn’t apply here surely. This is a man, not a lemon.

Regardless, you were stuck on what action you should take.

Caution was definitely one. Though it hadn't harmed you in any way and was looking pretty beat up itself, you couldn’t run the risk of being too trusting too early only to end up with your throat ripped out.

There, of course, is still the question as to how it was able to enter holy lands such as these, lands protected from such devilish creatures.

They were supposed to combust into flames upon entering, right?

Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath, letting a scowl settle onto your face as you glared at this ‘Midoriya,’ “Why are you h-”

“Wait, wait wait!” he suddenly shouted out, arms waving frantically in front of his burning red face, “B-before uh! You do whatever you’re going to do, c-can you..” words were whispered under his breath as his arms wrapped childishly around his head, averting his gaze to the side, “Can you fix.. your garments…? Please?” 

Stunned, you gaped at him, confused as to what he meant. Fix your garments? They were perfectly fine!

Only, they werent.

To your utter horror, your loose robe had begun to slip, completely exposing your left shoulder and the top of your breast.

It probably would have been more embarrassing if you didn’t still have a bit of adrenaline coursing through your veins, so naturally, you nonchalantly fixed up your robe.

Izuku sighed in relief, arms unraveling from his head.

“Now, what was your ques-”

“Why are you here.” You repeated, wanting definite answers as to what the fuck a demon was doing in these parts, and why it crashed into your beautiful house.

Hell, a bird just flew in! It’s going to be unimaginably cold in here tonight!

“Thats a uh,” he chuckled nervously, eyes drifting to look out into the forest covered in morning dew as he lightly scratched at his cheek with that sharp nail. He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs crossed over one another, tail flopping onto his lap to no doubt keep his decency.

He was clearly naked. How had you not noticed this before?

Where you too caught up in your head to realize this entire time he was bare?

And yet he had the gall to tell you to fix yourself up? It was hard to tell if he was being a gentleman or a fool.

Regardless, you ‘d never seen a naked man before. Perhaps muscular arms at most as village men helped their wives and older folk about.

But completely in the nude? Bare chest, legs out? Never.

You’d have to swallow down that bubble of nervousness, ignoring the heat on your cheeks, too eager to hear his answer rather than get wrapped up in ‘oh god he’s hot’ thoughts.

“A long story..”

“Everyone always says its a long story. Stop avoiding the question, and answer it before I cut your head off!” You bravely declared, only for his viridescent eyes flashing with mischief to flicker over to you with a momentary smirk on his lips.

It was almost as if his face turned into the personification of ‘is that so?’ and honestly, you do not blame him for reacting in such a way. You didn’t even know how to hold this old katana until a few minutes ago when told you how.

He was obviously trying to hide that display of cockiness as he coughed into his tattooed fist, “Well, if you’ve got the time-”

“I do.”

“H-how much?”

Eye twitching with aggravation, you promptly sat down on your knees, the sun-warmed tatami mat beneath you offering some comfort to your chilled bones.

“As long as you need.”

It didn’t take long for him to spit out his story, having no real choice in the matter.

Apparently, he was an exiled demon.

Who knew demons of all things could be banished from the underworld?

According to him, demons were the incarnation of evil, bred from human hatred and misery, taught to become a monster who wreaks havoc on the innocent and guilty, but he was different.

Since birth, or his ‘manifestation’ as he strangely called it, he was much kinder than those around him. Pure and sweet, hiding it behind a mask of cruelty in fear of the banishment now bestowed upon him.

So here he is in all his glory, a permanent seal of banishment printed in black ink onto his left pectoral in the form of broken kanji and crescent moons.

It was quite a lovely mark, really, but to him, it meant lonely freedom.

But, who knew demons can’t fly for shit in the rain? Certainly not him. Salty water splattered in his eyes, blinding him after a loud crack of lightning tore a scream from his throat - which explained the cries of an animal in pain. 

And so he crashed through your home, a scared animal.

It was hard to tell if you were lucky or not, considering the charms didnt work at all.

At least you had a reason now, the mark he was branded with took away his demonic possession.

He was more of a human now than a demon, powers stripped away, not that he used them.

The only problem was, he looked like a demon.

Horns? Check. Reptillian eyes? Check. Lare, bat-like wings? Check. A tail that looks like it could easily stab someone? Check. 

Not to mention the strange tattoos under his eyes and on his left arm, something he was supposedly born with and which was unique to himself only.

To you, the intricate tattoo looked like a bunny ensnared in thorny vines on his arm, but he was quick to take offense before laughing boyishly.

You were absolutely stuck on what you should do with him.

Tossing him to the snakes and boars would surely be too cruel, but keeping a demon in your house?

How maddening! You were lucky no one came around these parts to snoop in on whats inside.

Though, despite it being absolutely ludicrous, you allowed it. That is, because of his promise that he’d fix your window. Heavens know you certainly cant do it yourself.

He was insistent that you should sleep in the dusty guest bedroom, a smaller room with a mere futon and window, lacking the furniture you had, as he stood guard at the opening at night.

Demons apparently didnt sleep much?

Lucky you.

And so now, by events you never could have seen coming, you have a giant cat looming over your shoulder.

It was hard not to let your guard down so fast around him when he was so.. innocent. So open and kind, always willing to help around the house, and always quick to jump away if he began to do something wrong.

His curiosity was truly adorable, though.

Most days he’d stare in wonder at something new with an awestruck expression, eyes sparkling as he’d take a brush and ink, scribbling down notes about it in a foreign language on a piece of parchment, even attempting to draw it. He would always ask you about it later, showing you what he had written down, and if you could answer, you would. He’d always thank you profusely before writing down what you’d said.

You couldn’t understand what he wrote, it’d always be a mystery, but it certainly was an intricate language.

The only problem was he was so used to being naked all the time that it was an embarrassing struggle to get him to not only get into clothes but to also wear them. The most he was willing to wear was a sash from as robe wrapped around his waist. He disliked the constricting feeling of fabric clinging to his body, slipping out of it whenever you got him dressed.

It really did give you the chance to actually know what a man looked like, that, as well as study him. He was littered with scars ranging from small, faded, fresh, large, it truly was a painful sight the days you decided to dwell on them.

He had told you a few stories already about how he had gotten certain ones, and most stories were ones filled with pride and determination, winning fights or protecting others.

Each scar held an interesting story, except the one on his neck, which was gained from forgetting he had sharp nails in a fit of frustration. 

As you found out later that first day of knowing him, his wings and horns had the ability to shrink, not only giving him more mobility inside the house, but also taking away that spike of anxiety whenever you’d see them near a fragile object. Besides, their tiny selves were oh so cute, not that you’d ever openly say that.

And so, two weeks had passed, and there was still that dreadful broken window. Izuku had been kind enough to clean up the mess he made, insisting to do so after your intense interrogation, so it truly was an out of place marker of destruction now.

Its stay was to be expected, considering you didn’t have a replacement. No, you’d need to buy one.

Oh, buying. A poor man’s nightmare.

But as it turns out, demons are quite good at finding valuable things in the wilderness.

Or at least, that’s what he explained to you when he showed up one morning covered in dirt and mud, twigs all in his hair, boring an appearance similar to his first arrival, showing off a handful of silver and copper coins, as well as two golden ones.

In short, you were too busy drooling at the sight to care about how exactly he got it.

Travelers were often dropping coins anyway, so it surely doesn’t matter. Besides, his accomplished smile was far too sweet to tarnish with questions.

“You’re dirty, again.” you bluntly pointed out after thanking him for his find, pouring the coins into a small, worn pouch containing only two copper. Tying it up, you were quick to place it back on the shelf, hiding it behind a book of heroic tales.

“O-oh.. I didn’t notice..” he laughed awkwardly in that boyish manner he seemed to always have, large hands immediately going to brush off the caked mud on his legs and arms.

“Absolutely not, mister! I just cleaned!” Scolding him, you grabbed his wrist before he had the chance, glaring up into his surprised, foresty green snake-like eyes.

“If you’re going to shake your dirty little self off, go do it outside!”

At times, you acted more like a mother than you did anything else with him. But to be fair, he did come to this practical new world without any true knowledge of its customs, what you can and cannot do. Surely not making the house someone let you graciously stay in dirty was a universal thing.

He openly stared at you, innocent eyes glistening and wobbly lips reminding you of a kicked puppy.

Ouch.

“S-sorry,” he promptly apologized, attention snapping to your smaller hand still gripping his wrist, pink dusting over his chubby, freckled cheeks.

Sighing, you patted his large arm, picking up on the way it made his wings flutter, “It’s alright. Just go pat yourself off outside. I’ll set up a bath for you. I don’t need dirt everywhere in here again.”

Nodding eagerly, a bright smile overtook his face, showing off his unusually sharp canines.

Perhaps you would’ve been afraid had he shown them off in a vicious way again, but he was far too excited at the prospect of submerging his body in heated water to seem at all threatening.

You watched for a split second as he ran off, head instantly whipping to the side when he suddenly threw off the measly piece of fabric wrapped around his thin waist, tail curling around his muscular leg that you definitely haven’t been staring at throughout all this time.

You would have yelled after him for stripping if you weren’t so flustered.

You’d doubt you’d ever get used to it, seeing him nearly naked all the time. Artists were right to draw demons naked it seems, they truly didnt have any shame.

A blessing and a curse.

Grumbling, you began the long process of filling the metal tub with buckets of water from the well out back, igniting a small flame beneath it so the water would be warm upon his arrival.

Speaking of which, he was taking an unusual amount of time.

Surely you didn’t have to be worried, but it had been at least half an hour at this point, right? It doesn’t take that long to brush yourself down, does it?

Unease built in your gut, and you began pacing around the house, chewing anxiously at your fingernails as the old boards creaked beneath your feet.

He was very capable of handling himself, he was a fairly strong and intimidating soul, but what if he ran into someone? Your house wasn’t too far from the village, it was very plausible that he could’ve run into a hunter!

What if he was dead!

Oh gods, was he dead?!

And you had just put so much effort into running a bath for him!

Should you look for him?

What if he doesnt come home?

Maybe he’s lost?

Or stuck in a trap!

There were so many different possibilities, that your feet began to move on their own, the long sleeves of your kimono flapping behind you as you rushed towards the door where he had jumped out of, only to slam into a much larger and sturdier frame the minute you were about to exit.

“Hyah!” you cried out from surprise, being knocked backward.

Two hands quickly caught your flailing arms before you had the chance to land flat on your ass.

Looking up in a panic, you were relieved to see the familiar, warm green gaze of Izuku.

“Careful!” he was now the one to scold, playfully pouting his reddened lips. Breathless from worry and slamming into him, you jumped to your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“D-don’t tell me to b-be careful!” whining, embarrassed at the fact that you had been pressed so close to him, you adjusted your oversized kimono that had slipped ever-so-slightly at the rough collision.

“Mmm~ Be careful?” he teased, leaning down just to purr beside your flushed face his cold, dangling earring tickling the skin at your neck.

Smacking his shoulder, you let out an annoyed huff, only to screech a second after, blood burning your cheeks as you turned away so quickly you could hear the sleeves slap against his body, “Put some clothes on, damnit!!”

“I thought I had to be naked for a bath?” It was annoying how you could tell he was pulling your strings, no doubt his head was tilting as he batted his lashes at your smaller frame, like he always did when given the chance to be a tease.

Growling to yourself, you pointed off to the direction where the bath was prepared, desperate to escape from this trap you had set yourself in, “Then go bathe, you dirty, dirty boy!” At this point, you were on the verge of flat out shoving him into the bathroom, wanting to escape from his nude self.

You’d clearly have to start forcing him to wear clothes more, putting your foot down if he was to stay in this house.

You did not need a heart attack every morning at seeing a naked man waiting eagerly for you to awake, only for a wide smile to blossom on his face, tail thumping loudly on the ground and wings flapping like a bird when he noticed you blink your eyes open.

Of course, a pillow was always thrown at him, the plea for him to wear some clothes always on your tongue, but alas, you were lucky if he wore his piece of fabric, that flimsy sash you had half as mind at throwing away just so he would be forced to wear something else.

“O-okay..” his shy self seeped back in, his fingers visibly poking together, an anxious habit you presumed. Feet thumping against the floor, he traveled down the hall and to the bath, a loud gasp echoing down the corridor when he noisily jumped in, water sloshing. “So warm!”

“Please clean up your mess-!”

It was almost like dealing with a child, except this child was hundreds of years older than you and a grown-ass man, if that was a positive or negative- you’d never know.

It wasn’t until the next day you got him to fully wear a kimono, an old one your father had left behind. It fitted him, truly, black with green vines snaking down the sides and wrapping around the cuffs. It was a nightmare to get him in it, though.

Not that he wasn’t obedient, no, he truly did try his best to please you, but perhaps it just wasn’t something he could easily comprehend just yet, not to mention you had to somehow squeeze his wings into the outfit.

His tail was easy to hide due to the kimono reaching the floor, but thank god for hats because truly it was impossible to hide his horns any other way.

But the poor man was clearly unhappy, lips pouty and eyes droopy as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“They.. feel weird..” he tried to explain, pulling at the neckline, only for you to swat his hand away. “You’ll get used to it.” you reassured.

Grabbing the coin pouch you had placed on the shelf, you made him carry a sack over his shoulder, something to not only hide his lumpy wing covered back but to also carry the supplies you’d be purchasing soon.

It would be impossible to hide his facial markings, so you didn’t attempt. The thought of smearing mud on his cheeks did cross your mind, but alas, that would look suspicious. If only tattoos weren’t so taboo, and if only he didn’t have such suspicious ones.

Everyone in the village knew you, knew your story, and they knew you were alone. You had no doubts they’d ask who this mysterious stranger was, or at least openly gawk at him. You could avoid certain nosey fuckers, but at times it was unavoidable 

Grabbing his sleeve, you led him out the front door, quick to slide it shut before walking down the dirt trail.

Perhaps you could say he was a distant relative? You didn’t have any distant relatives, so that would, unfortunately, be a bust.  You placed your finger on your chin, thinking as you allowed your body to walk down the familiar path on autopilot, head in the clouds as you thought.

Curse these nosy ass people, already knowing everything about you!

Perhaps he was a traveler you found lost in the storm? Or he found you?

No.. that wouldn't explain the markings..

You needed to come up with something!

Grrr!

Oh! Oh! Wait!

“Midoriya..” you began, tilting your head curiously towards him. 

His lips pressed into a thin line, already recognizing that mischievous glint in your mesmerizing (e/c) eyes. 

Was that even a way he should describe them? Perhaps not, but he would be a fool to disagree with the statement formed in his head.

Gulping, he stuttered out nervously, focus shifting from you to the path in front of his wooden sandal-clad feet, shoes he wasnt too happy with, “Y-yes..?”

“Do you know what ninja’s are?”

You’re a genius.

“I, uhm, I’ve heard about them..why?”

“Mmm.. what have you heard?”

“Just that they’re skilled with a blade and sneaking around..” He looked at you dumbly, eyebrow arched as you only smiled back at him, adding to his own confusion.

“You’re gonna be a ninja, then.” You boldly declared out, catching his arm as he suddenly stumbled over a rock as he sputtered.

“W-wha?! B-but I- I’m n-not a ninja!” 

“I know that, but listen! The people at the village don’t! I have no doubts they’re going to poke and prod at you, wondering who you are.. A ninja that stumbled upon my house in the middle of a storm would explain your sudden appearance and your facial tattoos, and Hell, even your eyes!”

Filled with a sense of victory, you grinned ear to ear, amazed at how you had come up with such a solution on the spot.

You truly were creative.

A gift, maybe.

Oh, man! All the village women are going to be so jealous! Always quick to say you’d end up alone, but boy were they wrong! Here you have it, a ninja demon following you around! Suck on that, widows!

Wanting to gauge his reaction, seeing as he went oddly silent, you looked over at him, only to stop in your tracks and have your arms go limp by your sides.

“W-wha…” face scrunching up, you stared at him, bewildered. He was pointing at his cheek, smirking at you, showing off the fact that not only had his eyes gained a human-like pupil, which now looked odd on him, but the fact that the markings now looked like smudged paint.

It was dumbfounding.

“What the hell happened to your face..” trailing off, you couldnt help but scratch at your head, running possibilities through your mind but coming up with no true solution.

“Demons have the ability to switch from eyes that can see well in the dark to eyes that cannot! I forgot about it until you pointed them out, to be honest! So thank you for that!”

He was smiling boyishly again, only to flush deeply as you grabbed his face, soft, small hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to your height as you examined his features.

“(Y-Y/N).?!” he squeaked, breath catching in his throat as you peered deeply into his surprised green orbs, face so close he could feel your nose brushing against his, and all he could do was stand still.

His hot breath was ragged as it fanned across your face, and though he knew you were examining the sudden change in appearance, he couldn’t help the way his heart hammered in his chest. You were so, so close!! He swore if he just.. leaned forward ever so slightly, he could.. Catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He glanced down, focus going hazy as he zeroed in the way your lips shined in the sunlight trickling just barely through the gaps of leaves above him, forcing his own lips to twitch in anticipation.

Would it be so bad if he, hypothetically speaking, kissed you right now?

Oh, what a thought!

He couldnt tell. Hell, he couldnt even think.

Your scent was so intoxicating at this moment, flooding his senses, and it left his devilish desires to want more, fingers inching towards your waist.

He was knocked out of his strangely lustful thoughts when you repeatedly papped his cheek to catch his attention.

Body going stiff, his hands flung back to his own sides before jerking his head up to look at you once more. Had you been talking to him? Did you say something? He didnt know, his attention hyperfocused on… something else at the time.

Your aggravated tone cut through his body like a freshly sharpened steel blade, noticing the way your face scrunched up once more at finding he hadnt heard you the first time. 

“I said, what did you do to your eye markings?”

“H-huh?!” he stuttered out, only to internally slap himself as he took a moment to process the question, “I- I just.. smeared some mushed up black berries on m-my cheek..”

It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially considering his right hand is still sticky with its pigmented juice, droplets dripping from his fingers. He had half a mind to lick them up, sucking on the digits just to gauge your reaction as you watched him so intensely. No! Bad, bad Izuku! Stop that! 

“I-I thought it could be.. like some sort of ink.. b-but I didn’t have any ink on me so- so I grabbed some berries..”

“Is that why you smell so sweet? I was tempted to lick your cheek for a minute there.” Confessing that, you ended the conversation by spinning around and walking on. Delays were never good, especially since you didn’t have all day, and you definitely wanted to sleep in your own room tonight. The guest one was.. a bit too stuffy for your liking.

He followed you, huffily licking at the juice covering his hand and ignoring the stickiness coating his lips and cheeks.

Next time, he would be sure to use a sort of paint or something. At least then it could be marked off as some sort of fashion trend and not actual tattoos. After all, what innocent man had tattoos?

Of course, for his kind, they were common and apart of your identity, but here? It was a symbol of bad luck it seemed. Impurity. Not that he wasnt impure.

“Walk faster!” You called back to him, alerting the green-haired man lost in his thoughts that he had been walking too slow.

“C-coming!”

It wasnt too long before you had finally reached the entrance to the village, taking a moment to look over the old wooden arch covered in vines before walking past. Your sandals, as well as his own, clopped against the cobblestone road.

Though it was early morning, and the sun was barely even awake, townsfolk were already bustling through the place. Kids were running around barefoot, doing chores or having fun, farmers were wheeling in their goods in squeaky carts, calling out for business, and shops were being opened.

Distantly, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the pungent scent of meat being cooked sweets being baked in the air, only making you drool at the thought of consuming something so tasty after eating home-grown vegetables for so long.

The village was dead silent at night but in the morning? It was warm and welcoming, filled with friendly, smiling faces and gossiping mothers as they hung clothes out to dry.

You swore you could even hear the light picking at an instrument and the barking of dogs far off on the other side of town.

Birds chirped happily in the sky, singing their age-old songs as they searched for someone to love.

It truly was a breath of fresh air, the friendly atmosphere far different than the much quieter one in the mountain.

You missed it.

You were convinced for a while the reason you stayed away so long was to quite literally teach a demon manners, but you were quick to regret your mistake upon reentering this world. The energy of the place stabbed at your heart, and your fingers itched with the desire to stay here for as long as possible. Perhaps even buy some bread while youre here. Heaven knows you need more ingredients, and with the jingle of the pouch you carried ringing in your ear with every step, you were reminded you could actually afford it for once.

Sure, cooking and chopping vegetables was alright, a fun pass time that brought you comfort and worth, but damn did you miss being lazy for a change.

Besides, you now had the manpower to carry quite a lot, right?

Speaking of, that same demon was currently hiding behind you, hands clutching at your kimono sleeve as his shy face barely peeked out from behind your head.

“Are.. you alright?” you asked hesitantly, worried that perhaps he was scared or something set off some sort of weird sixth scent.

“I-i’m okay..! T-there's just so many people around.. I’m.. a bit..” he trailed off, looking down at his feet once more.

“Shy.” you concluded, nodding your head in understanding.

This was the first time he would be around other humans besides yourself, so it made sense why he was a bit timid.

In all honesty, it just made him even cuter and less threatening, not that he ever truly was as you came to realize the more you got to know this fluffy boy.

That's not to say it didn't also fill you with a motherly need to protect him, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, your cheeks couldn't help but flush with him being so close, a reaction you still were trying to get used to, despite being up close and personal not ten minutes ago. Then again, that was on your terms, wasn’t it? This? This was certainly out of the blue. So it made sense.

Walking along, you waved to the occasional person, a plethora of “good morning!”’s and “I’m alright, how are you?” fleeing from your person with each minimal interaction. It was a blessing no one has yet to question who the mysterious stranger with dripping berry juice on his face was, but it certainly made a lot of people stop in their tracks and look your way.

How flustering… you thought to yourself as you pushed on, eventually grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along with you.

“The shop is just down here.” you told him, to which he nodded his head, far too shy to speak. Hell, you were sure he was close to chewing his own clothes from nerves at this point with that look of hesitation, fear, and child-like curiosity in his eyes.

It wasn't hard to miss the way his head whipped around, taking in the new environments with near open arms, visually studying each and every object he saw, but never asking a question about it, almost as if he was afraid speaking with glee and wonder would cause too much of a ruckus, attracting even more attention.

You had no doubts he would drown you in them once you got back home, or maybe even in a few minutes if something utterly mind-blowing caught his attention, but for now, you had to focus on gathering things.

You had eventually made it to the repair shop, full intentions on buying the wood needed to replace the frame, as well as a new window covering. It was old and damn near rotting off the wall anyway, it truly was needed.

Though it certainly was unusual to have such a thing in a bedroom where someone could easily break-in. But it was the mountains, so there wasn’t much to fear. After all, who in their right minds would wander a forest in the middle of the night just to break into a poor woman’s home?

Leaving Izuku to stay outside to collect himself as he shook like a leaf in the wind, you stepped inside the open shop, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly chopped wood and burning embers, a fire burning in the back no doubt. This was a supply shop for home repair, after all.

“Ah! Little Miss (L/N)! I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Where have you been?” An elderly grandfather emerged from the back, hand pressed to the wall to lean against it. For his age, he was surprisingly in stable conditions, no doubt from the strenuous work he’d done all his life.

It was hard to forget that the elders here always had an eye open, so naturally, he would be the first to question your sudden disappearance when given a true chance. So far you’d only seen people your age and children out and about doing deeds for the older folk and earning their dinner.

Just as you were about to answer, you were cut off, “Oh? Who’s this?”

Not bothering to glance back, already knowing full well it was the curious Izuku who finally manage to swallow his anxieties and peak in, “He’s-” 

“A ninja!” he exclaimed, jumping to your side excitedly as you huffed in irritation at being cut off two times in a row.

It certainly was odd that he spoke out so enthusiastically, considering he had been nothing but reluctant to speak the entire time you were in the village, but what was even more shocking was how he continued the plan of referring to him as a ninja.

A stupid plan you now came to realize, sounding out of place. You should’ve gone with a better idea and not have acted so cockily when you came up with it on the spot.

Oh, the familiar feeling of regret.

It was strange though, especially since you were sure he was against the idea in the first place, so why had he gone along with it?

Truly, you couldn't exactly care less. This was his mess now.

“A.. ninja.?” Furukawa, the old man, questioned, giving the both of you a perplexed look. “We haven't seen one around these parts since I was a but boy. What is a ninja doing here of all places? A meek little village like this?”

Oh. That’s right.

You had forgotten they didn't thrive out here in the country, but in the city and for generals leading wars.

What was a ninja doing out here indeed.  Boy were you not bright when it came to thinking on the spot.

Leaning back and crossing your arms, you decided to let the excited demon explain for you, since you certainly hadn't a clue what to say.

“I’m here for no particular reason, sir! I had gotten lost in the mountains during that thunderstorm a few weeks back, and I just so happened to stumble upon the (L/N)’s home. I was lucky she was willing to take me in, for I had injured myself and needed time to heal. I truly owe her my life, for I doubt I would have been able to find a safe place to rest and recover that night if not for her generosity. I vowed to return the favor, and you know ninjas, never one to break a promise, and so I am here to help gather things to repair something I had broken. Though I’m sure we have bad rep around these parts nowadays, I assure you I have no intention of harming anyone. I vowed to protect the innocent, and that is what I will do! I’ll fight the evil of these lands with my own two-!”

You snapped him out of his rambling by gripping at his arm, surprised at how he had managed to come up with what  to say so quickly. Hell, his eyes were even hardened with determination. He was very convincing. 

It definitely made you suspicious of what his true intentions were, if he actually wanted to be a ninja of all things or if he was playing a part and not realizing the potential consequences.

Oh well?

What was even more surprising was how the old man wept, dramatically wiping his aged, teary eyes. “Oh, you good man! We need more men like you around here! My son is a lazy lump of bricks who won’t even help out around here”

“I am here now! Allow me to assist whenever!” Izuku stated righteously, fist raised high and mighty.

At this point, you were just a background character in some sort of weird show as these two practically danced around each other with declarations and tears.

Shaking your head, you quickly cut them off, needing to get things done today and not mess around any longer, “I was wondering if you had the material for a new window?”

“Oh! A window!”

“Yes.. I need a replacement for the one he had broken.”

“You youngsters are always breaking windows these days..” he complained, wiping at his brow before hobbling to the back again.”One moment please.”

Nodding, despite him not even seeing, you waited patiently in near awkward silence, teetering back and forth on your wooden heels.

“Did I uh..” the green-haired man's apprehensive whisper barely caught your ear, “did I go overboard, you think?”

That question was enough to bring giggles bubbling out over your throat, only for him to frantically wave his arms about in front of you, “I-i’m serious!”

Your giggles soon turned into laughs, only making his cheeks redden from embarrassment before he wrapped his arms around his head.

“Just,” you wheezed, “Just a bit, Midoriya.”

You weren’t used to being near people so passionate and enthusiastic about things, especially things made up. It was peculiar and yet it still brought a grin to your face.

Groaning, he looked off to the side, waiting patiently for the old man to return and to end his suffering as you continuously poked at his rosy cheek.

“I think you’d make a great ninja.” you whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin and making baby hairs stand on end as you leaned over his crouched form, his hands resting on his knees as if to calm himself, unknowingly leaving him wide open for teases he deserved after what had happened the day before.

Gulping down the lump of nervousness in his throat, ridding himself of thoughts he shouldnt be having again, his head whipped back to look at you, eyes glimmering with excitement, “Ah, really?!” 

You were unsure of how he would become one, but, “Yes.” you smiled gently, knowing full well already that he could do anything he set his mind to, a stubborn yet determined man he was.

“No kanoodlin in my shop!” Furukawa had suddenly appeared, damn near hitting the two of you upside the head with a stick.

You were quick to pay him for the materials, nearly tripping over yourself with giggles as Izuku looks nothing short of terrified with how the elderly man glared at him, no doubt piercing through his meek soul. Once you finished loading and securing the supplies in the shoulder bag, you grabbed two of his fingers before pulling him out of the shop with a friendly wave towards the grouchy old man who begrudgingly waved back.

A horse trotted in front of the both of you as you walked out, a loud wagon filled with hay creaking behind it as you continued on down the road in the opposite direction.

“That was.. nerve wracking..” Izuku sighed, one hand clutching the strap to the bag tightly whilst the other goes back to holding your sleeve, no longer cowering behind you as he openly gawks at the abundance of people strolling through the area, as well as eyeing up all the animals wandering about and making all sorts of noises.

“It was a pretty typical interaction to me,” you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly as he groans heavily.

“Are we heading back now?” he questioned, itching to beg you to let him stay if just for a bit longer. He was excited about being out like this, reading many stories revolving around normalities such as these. He had never experienced such a thing before, and it was thrilling, to say the least.

He felt as if he was on cloud nine, observing so many new things and being up close to other things he thought he would never get to see or touch, or, well, smell.

It was as if he himself was in one of the many books he’d read, skipping happily through each page as his wings twitched beneath the fabric with excitement, luckily covered up by the large sack of supplies.

He didn’t want to leave, but he would if you didn't like the idea of staying.

He could always come back with you another time, after all.

But damn did the prospect of going home at this moment dampen his cheery mood. Hell, he could even feel his wings pressed against him droop from inside the kimono at the prospect of doing so.

He was really hoping you wouldn't say yes.

He’d cross his fingers if he could.

“No.”

“Ah, well alright.. we can come back another time right?" It was as if he didn't hear you, too used to being put down and denied that happiness swelling inside his chest.

He continued to walk forward, head bowed down as he stared sadly at the rocks only to be yanked back as your hand slapped onto his wrist for the third time that day. He could get used to that if he was being honest.

He looked back at you, staring blankly as he tried to figure out why you had stopped and why you were giving him such a baffled look.

Had he done something wrong?

Said something wrong?

Or maybe his mere presence had annoyed you.

He hadn't the slightest clue, and he could only helplessly stare at you as he awaited a reason as to why you stopped, heartbeat hammering in his chest and fear squeezing his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.

You raised your eyebrow in question, and that's when it hit him like a rock.

You had said no, not yes!

Oh geez!

That sounds so backwards honestly!

“A-ah! I’m sorry! Oh, I thought y-you said yes!” he screeched, fumbling over his words and inwardly fighting himself at being so stupid.

He was about to go on and ramble out an apology, his nerves strangling him alive, but you had easily cut him off, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to stay out and about for a bit longer. I wanted to show you some things, and get some ingredients if you don’t mind?"

Not that you would really give him the option to mind, besides- you knew that far off look in his eyes too well, it was the same look of wonder in your own eyes when you were a child.

It truly was endearing, you couldn't help but want to indulge in it for a bit, even if you were going to be doing other things anyway.

To hell with putting the window up this evening, perhaps the next. For now, you just wanted a break from having to train a demon by- well. Informing one instead.

“Really!” he exclaims, face immediately lighting up, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. He's suddenly jumping for joy, shoes making a loud clacking noise that catches the attention of village-folk once again, much to your introverted horror. “Y-you have places you want to show me!? O-oh gosh! Can we go see them now? Oh, there are so many things I want to see here! So many things I’ve read about!”

“Midoriya..” you called out to him hopelessly, wanting to calm him down.

“I want to see a bakery!! To- to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries! I can smell them right now,” he sniffed at the air, eyes slipping closed for a second, tongue poking out as he drooled, “they- they smell so good! I’ve always wondered how they mix ingredients together and fire them to make something so delicious.. How do they know what ingredients to use? How did they find those ingredients? I want to know! Do they memorize how to do it, you think??! And, and a blacksmiths shop! Swords are forged from fire, it sounds so magical, but there must be logic of some kind behind it! Logic I don’t quite understand yet but want to! I want to see it in action, know how they’re made in the first place. It’s from melting rocks right? Or, or metal?! How do they shape the swords? Which material and technique is best to use for the best result? Is that loud banging the making of swords right now? Or something else?”

“Midoriya…”

“Is there a library around here? No, no I guess there wouldn't be one here.. books? I want to know all about the culture of these lands, in more detail! I, I want to see how people's minds work, how they write their feelings or facts down on pages. You can learn a lot from a person based on how they tell a story, you know! Oh!  And I also-!”

He excitedly jabbered on, drawing laughter and gleeful smiles from the people as they passed, only fueling to the heat on your cheeks as they whispered about the cute, excited man rambling on about different aspects of regular life. It was almost too much to understand or even comprehend, let alone answer all in one go. His words were flying over your head from how fast he was speaking.

And so, you simply stood there, off to the side of the road, wringing your hands together as you let him express his pure delight with an abundance of words.

He was a curious person like you’d thought to yourself before, that was for sure.

It got to the point where you were sure nearly five or so minutes had passed, and you didn't want to see how long this could go on for.

Because you knew it could go on for a long while, having been with him for a few weeks now. 

It was a loveable habit of his, one that he always was quick to shut himself up for and apologize profusely, which always pulled at your heartstrings. He had clearly been put down in his past for being so wild, curious, and excited, and that was nothing short of saddening.

You didn't want him to feel like he couldn't talk, or ask questions, hell, even be enthusiastic like he always was. It brought a hint of sugar and spice to your plain life.

So, perhaps another time, but in front of a multitude of onlookers, ready to prod into your lives from how hard they were staring? Absolutely not, unfortunately.

Grabbing his sleeve, you yanked at his, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as his focus snapped over to where your hand was, “Huh?” he asked obliviously, turning to look at you with a tilted head but still cheery smile, green bangs brushing over his eyebrows, making you want nothing more than to sweep them away from his face.

Physical contact, as you learned, was always a better way to get him to focus rather than to snap him from his thoughts with words of your own. Words always made him flinch back and shut himself off, but soft touches somehow never did, keeping the same energy he started with even as he looked at you with wonder. It would often make you wonder why he flinched, or reacted in such a heartbreaking way whenever you’d cut him off with your own words, perhaps an untold story from his past waiting to be unraveled or kept under lock and key. Some things were best not to remember, after all.

Though he told you he was happy to be gone from the place he never truly considered home, you still held some minor doubts.

It was always the kind ones who smiled the brightest like a star in the sky that had the most to hide.

“Do you want to go and experience some of those things that you mentioned? I’m pretty hungry myself, so we could try a bakery right now if you would like? The one here is owned by a nice family, recipes passed down for generations. They got a pretty good grasp of things”

His brows quickly flew up, momentary shock flashing in his eyes before being covered by embarrassment, he had just now realized he rambled on. A momentary delay it seemed.

“S-sure.. eheh..” he chuckled nervously, hand squeezing the bags strap tightly once again as he used his other hand to wrap around his torso. He certainly was bashful for someone who was ‘bred from darkness’, if that red on his cheeks and how he avoided eye contact were anything to go by.

“Let’s go, then.” placing your hand on the much larger one glued to his side, you slowly peeled it away before gingerly holding it, ignoring the stuttered gibberish that trickled from his mouth at the action as you led him to the place that made saliva drip from his mouth.

At the end of the day, you were walking home on sore feet, arms clutching at a flimsy woven basket someone graciously gave you for free containing foods you needed to stock up on.

Izuku, on the other hand, was practically skipping, words flowing from his lips like a waterfall as he reviewed what he learned today, occasionally looking over at your tired form to make sure you were alright. He had offered multiple times to carry the basket, even going as far as trying to grab it, but you refused, wanting to do so yourself since he was now carrying a basket and a bag of his own.

Stubborn, ironically, was the way he described you with a pouty lip, and you had to agree.

It truly was a shame you weren't able to put the new window today, considering you wanted to sleep in your own room, but there was always tomorrow. For now? You were exhausted.

So much so you weren't even sure you could cook dinner.

Demons sure did have a lot of unrelenting energy. You were being dragged around all day, only leading a few times to the places you wished to show him- you didn't even get to show him everything due to his mind moving faster than either one of you could keep up.

Once making it back to the house, you managed to convince the energetic guy to at least continue wearing his hakama after he threw off his hat and the top of his kimono, successfully freeing his wings.

Things on the floor, he gets on his hands and knees, stretching his arms and back out like a cat, his wings flapping out like a birds as he flexed the poor things.

It was horrible how he had to stuff them in his clothing all day, and it truly did make you feel bad, knowing he must have held a form of discomfort all day, hiding it seamlessly.

Perhaps you could buy more clothes for him next time, or even fabric to weave together a kimono made solely for him. 

That would take a long while, but it would be cute, right?

You didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.

You stopped in your tracks as this thought crossed your mind, a perplexed expression making its way onto your tired face, when had you started referring to this house as his home as well?

Had you grown so accustomed to him already that when thinking of this place, or where he lives, this old house comes to mind?

Or did your loneliness fight your conscious to bring forth such a thought out of comfort?

For the first time in years, you weren't alone. You haven't thought much about it until this moment and in a tired state of mind no less.

It was confusing, especially considering you didn't even know when you had started picking up the habit.

Looking back at him, your mouth fell from its straight-lined self to that of awe, your eyes reflecting the same thing.

The golden rays of a honey sunset dripped in through the open door, illuminating the man covered in scars, freckles and tattoos from behind, kissing at his soft, smooth skin and wrapping him in a cocoon of ease and light as he sat there, bathing in the warmth it provided.

His eyes were closed, wings relaxed and hands resting on his thighs as he took the moment in, inhaling deeply as a breeze filtered in, making his curls sway ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way.

Despite what he was or what he used to be, only one word came to your mind as you gazed at hi, ‘angelic.’

You couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid, for all you saw at this moment was a smiling man happily enjoying himself after a long day of bouncing off the walls.

You couldn't stop staring, even if it was rude, his presence enrapturing in the sweetest of ways.

You felt your own body warming at the sight, an innocent blush dancing on your cheeks, only to deepen as his eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, just to fall on you.

His pupils were back to their familiar, snake-like state, but yet they held so much compassion and kindness as if they were just as human as yours were, despite being entirely different.

Neither of you said anything, just staring into each other’s eyes in a way that should've felt weird or awkward.

But nothing about this felt awkward, in fact, it felt natural.

Like you were meant to be entranced by those addicting pools of green, glimmering with the yellows bouncing off the walls just to show your own silhouette in them. It was like staring into a never-ending forest with vines that wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a secure hug, branches of trees filled with fresh leaves swaying in the calming wind behind you as the scent of salt from the creek not too far away made you relax in their embrace.

You weren't aware how long the both of you stared at each other, but one thing was for sure, neither of you minded it, his own smile and reassurance in his gaze is enough to wash away any concerns.

The sudden loud calling of a bird snapped you out of your trance, attention flickering to the door just to see two birds chatting with each other.

“(Y/N)?” he had called out, voice laced with concern but dripping with sugary sweetness and desperation that was all too much to handle after such an intense moment, despite it just being eye contact.

But then again, the eyes were the doorway to the soul, weren't they? And it felt like much more than just that.

Regardless, you turned, ignoring his calls as you rushed to your room, hurriedly closing the door just to slide down it.

Hand clutching at the fabric above your beating heart, you just now noticed how your breath was caught in your throat, and how your heart was hammering wildly.

You breathed heavily, running fingers through your wild hair as you fought to make sense of what just happened.

The truth was, you didn't know.

[vintage-story-time]

Family Peepers by David Crane

Chapter 9

Jimmy groaned.

He had enjoyed watching his mother and sister with an inbred voyeur's

glee, but now his cock was hammering, badly in need of attention. He

had hoped to dip it into one of their fuck-holes. But it seemed that

the women were quite content without his prick. He grasped his

cockstalk, tempted to relieve himself by a hand-job, but then

hesitated, still hoping to be invited up a cunt hole.

His daddy was even more desperate as he crouched in the doorway, his

eyes blazing as they registered the incestuous scene, the images

branded into his brain. His cock was harder than it had ever been

before, even in the days of his desperate virginity. He felt as if his

hard-on extended right down to his heels, as if his massive prick was

rooted to the floor, like a tree.

Virginia dropped her creamy face back into her daughter's crotch,

plastering her lips to the girl's pussy slot. Then, without breaking

that sweet contact, she began to revolve. Her ass and hips slowly

circled around, turning like a compass around the focal point of her

head. Moving on her knees, her ass hiked up and her heavy tits swinging

under her, she shifted around into the reverse position. She knelt

beside Bonny's eager, upturned face. Then she threw one leg across and

straddled her daughter's head.

Bonny gazed up into her mother's soaking, gaping cunt crater and she

began to whimper hungrily. Her tongue was flashing out even before they

made contact and her lips were sucking as if they were already clamped

on that wet cunt gash. Bonny had always enjoyed giving head to her

girlfriends, as much as she loved getting it from them, in fact, her

mouth being as horny as her cunt. But the very idea of sucking her own

mother's cunt was driving the girl wild.

Thighs rippling, Virginia slowly lowered her crotch onto her daughter's

face. Bonny's tongue shot out to meet that juicy pussy. Virginia's hips

jerked and her pussy circled just above the girl's hungry mouth like a

hairy hawk seeking soft, pink prey. Bonny's tongue extended, eager for

that swooping assault. Then Virginia went down the final inch and her

steaming cunt was glued to her daughter's mouth.

Bonny sucked with joy, her tongue slithering up into the woman's creamy

fuck-hole as her parted lips pulled voraciously on the open folds.

Virginia's ass swung from side to side as her belly pumped up and down.

She sucked with joy and felt her daughter's magic mouth massaging her

pussy.

And Jimmy could wait no longer!

With his mother on top in this inverted love scene, her ass churning,

the woman was in the same position she'd been in when her son had

fucked her asshole. The frantic lad crawled around behind his mother's

ass, following his jutting prick like a ship behind its prow.

Virginia's ass cheeks were spreading open as she ground her cunt down

into her daughter's face, and Jimmy gazed with fond memories at his

mother's tight shit hole. But he could see her cunt, as well. Those

hairy cuntlips were split widely and his sister's tongue was darting in

between them and the boy realized that there was room for a prick, as

well as a tongue, in that soaking fuck-hole.

She might reject him again, he knew and feared, but it was sure worth a

try!

He grasped his enormous prick by the hilt and levered the cock-knob

down into his mother's crotch, from under her ass. His flaring cockhead

rested on his sister's forehead for a moment, then slid down and nudged

into Virginia's cunt. The woman jerked and gasped when she felt a hot

slab of cock-knob throb in her pussy slot. She started to raise her

head, to tell the boy to switch to her shit chute so that they wouldn't

be sinning by incest. But her lips were glued so firmly on her

daughter's soaking cunt that she couldn't seem to break the contact,

and she didn't want to, anyhow.

What the hell, she reasoned. If a mother sucks her son off and takes

his prick up her asshole, does it really matter if he fucks her cunt,

too? Smiling on her daughter's cunt, she shoved her ass back against

her son's flat belly.

Jimmy paused, with only his cockhead pressed into her rippling cunt

slot. He no longer felt like a virgin, having unloaded his balls in her

mouth and her ass, yet he was, and the boy was savoring the expectation

of technically losing his cherry, lingering over the final seconds of

his hated virginity. He held his mother by her lush hips and worked his

cock muscles, making his cockhead flare in her cunt slot.

Bonny, finding the cunt she was sucking suddenly stuffed by a huge

cockhead, squealed with delight. She began to tongue her brother's

prick-knob and her mother's cunt together. Her taste-buds went wild as

they registered cockmeat and cuntmeat together. Jimmy's piss hole was

drooling and his pre-cum slid into Virginia's drenched cunt gash, and

Bonny was lapping those sweet nectar up in a succulent blend.

"Yeah, fuck my cunt," Virginia moaned, her lips stirring on Bonny's

cunt, causing her clit to vibrate.

Jimmy began to edge his enormous prick up into his mother's open fuck-

hole. As his cock-knob disappeared in her pussy, his bloated balls came

sliding down his sister's upturned face. Bonny lapped at his cockshaft

as it glided through her mouth on the way to her mother's pussy.

Bonny was in seventh heaven. The girl loved to suck cunt and adored to

suck cocks, but this was the first time that she had ever known the

pure ecstasy of sucking on both of those sweet delicacies at the same

time.

With a jolt, Jimmy fucked his cock balls-deep up his mother's clinging

cunt hole. She sighed into Bonny's cunt and Jimmy gasped, thrilled to

the core at having his thundering prick enveloped in a hot pussy for

the first time.

Virginia's firm cunt muscles began to work, pulling and dragging up his

cockstalk. The boy thought that her cunt felt even better than her

mouth or her shit chute. It had been impossible to imagine anything

that felt better than fucking her mouth or fucking her ass, yet it did.

Her cunt walls were sucking on his pounding cockmeat as well as any

mouth and her firm cunt muscles were contracting around his prick so

that her fuck-hole was as tight as her asshole.

The boy held every inch buried up her pussy for a long moment, savoring

the joy of it. Then he slowly pulled back out, until only his cock-head

was in her cunt, paused, then fucked in to the balls again.

Bonny tongued up and down the underside of his prickstalk as it fucked

in and out. That fat cockshaft pulled out soaking with cunt cream and

shoved back in drenched with the girl's frothy saliva. He fucked

through his sister's parted lips and into his mother's pussy with long,

rippling strokes. His balls slid over Bonny's face and she tongued

them, thrilled at how full of cum they were, and eager to drink that

cum out of her mother's soaking cunt when her brother shot his creamy

wad into that smoldering grotto.

Jimmy was shuddering under the magnificent double sensation, having his

prick sucked and licked at the same time that he was fucking it up a

cunt hole.

Bonny was vibrating with a dual delight, too, sucking and being sucked

all at once, and sucking on a double load, to boot! She didn't know

which end of her nubile body was more excited, her mouth or her cunt,

her tongue or her clit.

And Virginia, naughty mother that she was, was transported to pure

bliss. The horny woman was eating out her daughter's delicious pussy

while that sexy little nymphette tongue-fucked her with gusto and, at

the same time, her lusty son poured the prick into the depths of her

pussy.

Virginia had been in threesomes before, and plenty of them, but never

one as wonderful as this, with the frantic joy of incest added to the

physical sensations.

And that three way fuck-suck looked good to the burning eyes of her

husband.

Jack could bear it no longer.

The tormented man had to empty his balls before the fucking things blew

up! A man who enjoyed playing the voyeur at any time, even with total

strangers, he was driven to the heights of lust by this family fuck-

scene. Incest in all its forms, with a bit of lesbianism added, set the

man aflame. He grimaced and gasped and staggered.

He reached down and grasped his prick. It was like trying to grab hold

of a spurting firehose. His cockrod bucked so hard that it tossed his

fist off. Groaning, he grabbed again, clamping his hand around the

thick root of his cockshaft as if he were strangling it.

He gave his prick a slow push-pull. His hard-on seemed to be throbbing

all the way from his tight asshole up to his flaring cockhead, like an

iron rod that stretched right through his shuddering loins, transfixing

him on his prick.

Jack thought that he was going to shoot with such dynamic force that

his cum would arc all the way across the living room and splatter onto

their naked, churning bodies. The thought reminded him of how, earlier,

he had hosed his nubile daughter with a massive jism-load.

He wanted to move closer.

Still seeking to avoid incest, himself, although reveling in the sight

of it being performed by the other members of his naughty family, Jack

studied the cluster-fuck.

His wife's head was down, buried in his daughter's crotch, and his

daughter's head was hidden as his wife squatted over her face. His

son's eyes were closed as he fucked his enormous cock into his mother's

pussy. They were all preoccupied. Why should they notice a stealthy

approach?

Jack began to creep across the room behind the battering ram of his

pounding prick, stepping bowlegged around his bloated balls. His

cockhead was dripping, splattering a string of pearly drops across the

floor in his wake. He moved up and stood over them. His gigantic prick

was casting an elongated shadow over his wife's grinding ass.

A glob of spunk fell from his piss hole and splashed onto Virginia's

ass, but the whole scene was so creamy that she didn't notice the added

dampness.

Clenching his teeth, his lips squared back and his nostrils flaring,

lack began to beat his meat.

He intended to unload his cum-load and escape before anyone was aware

of his presence.

But then Bonny saw him...

[dogbearinggifts]

Elegy, Part Five

A/N: Adapted from an idea by @daughterofthemoon99, where Imelda is the one to visit the Land of the Dead rather than Miguel. If you’d like to catch up on previous chapters, definitely read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four before continuing. The whole fic is also available on AO3.

*******

Your husband.

Héctor was there. Of all the people in Imelda’s family, of everyone they could have found and armed with knowledge of the situation, the Department of Family Reunions, in all their wisdom, had found Héctor.

Ernesto could see their reasoning. Imelda’s parents and primos and all the rest would have crossed the bridge by now. Photo agents would have been dispatched with pictures to guide them, but it would be a process, and a time-consuming one at that. Assuming they wanted the curse lifted as quickly as possible, of course they would seek out the one person in her family who had not crossed. And as the one person who had not crossed—now or ever—Héctor would naturally be the first at Imelda’s side by virtue of being closest.

It made sense. It all made perfect, logical sense. Ernesto would not have been able to argue with a single one of those points, had he been given the opportunity.  

Imelda stared for a long minute. No words. No sounds. Just silence as she blinked at the border agent.

“Oh,” he imagined her saying. “I…yes, I’ve suspected that for a while. That he’s dead. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

It made for a nice picture, but Ernesto knew even before she spoke that it was just that. A comforting image to be enjoyed only as long as it took Imelda to shred it.

“No.” She took a step back, shaking her head. “No, no. He’s not—here. I don’t know where he is, but he’s not—he didn’t—“

The border agent’s hand covered her mouth. “Lo siento, Señora, We—we thought you knew!”

“How could I know? I haven’t received so much as a letter from that man in twenty-one years, and now you tell me he’s dead?”  

She had both hands braced on the table, drawing long, ragged breaths. For the moment, all her attention, all her anger, seemed to have chosen the border agent as a target. Unfortunately, the door was behind them both; Ernesto couldn’t leave without drawing their attention. 

And Héctor’s. 

“He’s your husband, Señora, we assumed—“

“Was my husband.” She was back to snapping now. “That ended when he left.”

“I—I didn’t know, none of us knew! We were only trying to send you home.”

Ernesto had watched the encroachment of a monzón, tracked its approach in increments as stone-grey clouds swallowed up blue skies. He had witnessed it over the course of hours, wondering if it would interfere with his show. The first clap of thunder, so strong and close he felt it in his stomach; the wind bowing the brush and trees and sending sprays of water thrashing against the building, hammering against the walls, had sent thoughts of his show to the back of his mind.  

Watching Imelda try to steady her breathing, her hands slowly tightening on the table’s edge, was like watching a monzón swoop in faster than any storm had a right to move—and there was no shelter in sight.  

“You.”

Her eyes locked on his. That first thunderclap sounded right over his head; had he been standing, he might have collapsed.

“Why did you not tell me?”

Her voice wasn’t low, but she had not yet raised it, every word pronounced. “I—Imelda, I didn’t know.”

Perhaps she saw the lie in those words, perhaps she didn’t, but she saw the songbook. Saw it in his hands, among his effects. She saw Héctor hunched over it, writing a new song, tucking it into his suitcase, knowing he wouldn’t have parted with it easily.

He hadn’t parted with it easily.

“He left in México City,” Ernesto went on, concealing a wince. Surely Héctor wouldn’t be close enough to hear the entire conversation, but he kept his voice as low as he could without drawing suspicion. 

“And you never heard from him again?”

“No.” 

“You. His brother. He never spoke to you again.”

A small, muffled squeak came from the border agent. Whether it was fear or wisdom that kept her from asking one of the obvious questions, she held her silence.

“You were his wife. He never wrote you, either.”

Pain creased her features for a split-second before that patient sort of anger resumed its place.  

“I thought he would have told you, of all people, where he was going.”

“So did I.”

Her jaw clenched and unclenched.

“I don’t know why he did it, Imelda.” He softened his tone. Sometimes that calmed her, sometimes it didn’t, though only Héctor had ever tried. “He left me, too.”

“You clearly came out of that calamity none the worse for wear.”

She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen him in the days and weeks following Héctor’s death, let alone the death itself. Hadn’t seen him performing Héctor’s songs alone on the guitar she’d given him. Hadn’t seen him smiling at the adoration of the crowds. The remark was a jab at his success, not its catalyst. “It…wasn’t easy.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t.”

Scornful sarcasm—another one of Imelda’s more charming traits. But that was all it was. A weapon she used in situations like this, where she fought to gain the upper hand by any means necessary. She knew no more than what the border agent had revealed. Any detail beyond that was just guessing.

“Should—should I….?” The border agent began, but Ernesto barely heard her.

“You can’t think I wanted him to leave.”

She flattened both palms on the table. “And how long did you wait after he did? One day? One week before you ran off to—to—charm the world with your—your music?”  

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. The way she’d said your music was evidence enough that the truth still remained far from her comprehension, and yet the way she spoke, the things she said….

No. She didn’t know. Héctor didn’t know. 

“You think I should have waited?” He was on his feet now, and it took everything within him to keep from raising his voice. “You think I should have sat around doing nothing after my best friend walked out the door without warning?”

“You could have taken the time to write a letter.”

“Ay, we’re going back to that again.” The dead should not have been capable of getting headaches, but he felt one forming regardless. A side effect of Imelda’s presence.  

“Fine. We can talk about why he left his suitcase behind.”

The suitcase. The songbook. That was what she meant; she didn’t care about Héctor’s clothes so much as the thing he’d died for.

The thing he’d left behind prior to his death. That was what she believed. He had to remember that.

“I told you, Imelda, I don’t know why he did what he did.”

She folded her arms across her chest.

“Don’t give me that. I’ve told you all I know.”

Yet she had not shared all she knew. The realization crept over him like a chill. She knew who had originally owned the songbook, knew who had written the songs—and yet she’d kept that bit of knowledge away from clerks and border agents alike. With a single statement she could begin the unraveling of his reputation, but that statement remained unspoken. 

And if he knew Imelda, it was not benevolence that kept her from saying all she could.  

Her eyes locked on his, and he read the message in them as clearly as if it were printed. Tell me about the songbook, it said. Tell me, or I’ll tell them.

“Señorita.”

The border agent’s attention snapped toward him.

If Imelda wanted to go home, it was time she did so. “Perhaps you should find another one of Imelda’s family to give their blessing.”

Imelda’s gaze hardened into a glare, lips pressed together, eyes threatening to burn through his skull. No need for a tantrum, he wanted to say. I’m helping you get what you want. You see?

“Unless she’d rather take the blessing from her husband?”

“I….” The border agent looked from him to Imelda and back, seemingly remembered how to speak, and drew a breath. “I’ll ask my supervisor. Or…whoever’s outside. I mean the police. Or…someone. Un momento.”

She practically lunged for the door, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob when she saw Imelda was right behind.

“I—you should stay here, Señora.”

“Why?”

It was less a question than a challenge, and the border agent considered it only a moment before opening the door wide and letting Imelda precede her through.

Ernesto sank into the nearest chair, cursing his limbs as they shook. He had no reason to fear. Imelda had, from all appearances, pushed her husband’s memory to the back of her mind. If his sources were to be believed, she had never put his photo on her ofrenda. Never asked what became of him, never suspected anything but a sudden loss of interest in her.

Now she knew.

She wouldn’t ask. She wanted, more than anything, to go home before the curse overtook her. Any questions as to her husband’s demise would be secondary to that or, more likely, pondered only once she was safe at home and away from the only two men with knowledge of what had happened that night. Decades could pass between her return to the Land of the Living and her death—time enough for any nagging questions to fade.

But if she did ask them now….

Ernesto wanted to race out of that pitiful little cubicle. He wanted to snatch Imelda by the wrist and drag her off to the Department of Family Reunions, push her into a chair, and watch her like a hawk until someone else—anyone else—walked in with cempasúchil in hand and blessing in mind.

But that would only encourage further questions when she returned—and he couldn’t leave the cubicle while Héctor waited outside.

*******

Your wife is here.

At those words, Héctor expected the worst. Imelda was still young, after all; death at forty-three wasn’t unheard of, but it was still too soon. It would have to be an accident that brought her here, though he couldn’t imagine what and didn’t want to try. But after walking with the officers for a few minutes, he finally worked up the courage to ask. Better to know and prepare than to be knocked off his feet by the revelation.

“Got herself cursed,” one of the officers said. “Needs a family blessing to send her back.”

“Wait.” He stopped in his tracks. “Wait wait wait wait wait. You mean…she’s still alive?”

He didn’t expect the faint smile on the officer’s face, but he didn’t dislike it, either. “Sí, Señor Rivera. She’s still alive.”

It was all Héctor could do to keep from running back to the bridge.

Back to Imelda.

What he’d say would depend on what she said first. That was the important thing—let her explain what had happened to the family portrait that made it unsuitable for an ofrenda, explain why she’d let Ernesto play his songs on the guitar she’d given him at their wedding, and then he could speak.

I’m sorry. I never should have left.

That needed to be said the most; he’d say it first.

I’ve missed you.

Maybe self-evident, but it still needed to be said—a hundred times over, if that’s what it took.

How’s Coco?

Thinking of that question erased all others. Asking it would raise fifty more, but he couldn’t know which ones until Imelda answered the first. He’d imagined the answers more times than he could count, tried not to and done it again. Was she married? If so, to who? Did she have children?

What had she been doing for the past twenty years?

What was she like?

Héctor tried to push those questions to the back of his mind, but this time they refused, perhaps knowing the answers were only as far as he was from Imelda. From his wife. She was there, and she was waiting—to go home, but not before he had his chance to see her. To speak to her. To hear her voice, laugh with her, cry with her, snatch all the bits of news she threw his way. To remember the things he feared he’d forgotten.

“Wait just a minute,” a smiling border agent said when the officers told her who they were and who was with them. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

She stepped into a small outbuilding, closed the door behind her.

He was close, but the murmur and babble of a hundred conversations surrounded him. He didn’t hear the border agent announce his presence. For a long minute, he didn’t hear anything.

“Lo siento, Señora, We—we thought you knew!”

“How could I know? I haven’t received so much as a letter from that man in twenty-one years, and now you tell me he’s dead?”  

Héctor instinctively took a step back, tried to sit down and realized there was nothing to sink into. No…she knew. She had to know. Ernesto would have told her.

“He’s your husband, Señora, we assumed—“

He would have gone straight to Santa Cecilia, Héctor’s guitar and suitcase seated beside him on the train. Imelda wouldn’t have known to greet him at the station, but Ernesto knew the way to their home as well as he knew his own name. Imelda would have guessed what happened the moment she saw his face.

“Was my husband. That ended when he left.”

Was my husband.

Héctor stumbled back, only dimly aware of hands on his shoulders, steadying him before a fall. The rest of what was said in that cubicle became a babble. He heard Imelda’s voice sniping back and forth with another, familiar voice, but whose it was escaped him.

Was.

“Let’s find you a place to sit down.”

He nodded, let them half-lead, half-carry him to a spot behind the arrivals booth, waited as one officer snagged a chair and set it out, and sank into it the moment he could.

Was my husband.

“This’ll pass,” one of the officers said. “Probably just mad she got herself cursed, is all.”

Héctor didn’t have the energy to correct him. He could only sit slumped in the chair, watching others carry offerings back into the city. The angry sniping of Imelda’s conversation had been replaced with happy chatter—more pleasant to listen to, but nowhere near soothing.

That ended the moment he left.

He’d sent letters—scores of them, writing every moment he could spare. Songs for Coco. Stories for Imelda. She hadn’t sent any back, of course; to receive a letter, you needed to stay in the same place long enough to retrieve it from the post office. But he’d never imagined she wouldn’t want to. He’d pictured her writing letters she’d never be able to send, saving them for when he returned. They’d sit by the fire and read them together, laughing and smiling and nodding somberly at all the joy and sorrow he’d missed out on the road.

Héctor bowed his head. He might not have moved for the rest of the night, had he not felt someone watching him.

Imelda.

A glint of white marred her right hand—exposed bone; the officers had mentioned something about a curse—but it was the rest of her that held his attention. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d become to smiling skulls and exposed bone until that moment, when she stood there like a memory come to life. Older, yes, but no less familiar—and even more beautiful than he remembered. A leather work apron covered a dress made in the same style she tended to favor. What it was for, he couldn’t guess, but he couldn’t imagine it as the mark of a struggling endeavor. Everything she’d done, no matter how small, had succeeded. She’d sat beside him for all the hours she could spare, learning the language of music simply to learn it. Whatever she’d put her mind to this time, she’d have done it better than most.

I’m sorry.

His thoughts had become a briar, and that was the only thing he could pluck out. No explanations. No justifications. Just an apology. If it was the only thing she let him say, he’d rather say just that.

Only a few meters stood between them, but it was enough to make her expression difficult to read. Anger, remorse, satisfaction grim or otherwise—Héctor could only guess.

I’m sorry, Imelda. I’m so sorry.

He could say it. Close the gap in a few quick steps, speak before she had a chance to turn away. Maybe it would keep here there. Give him a chance to explain.

The moment he left.

Without warning, without a signal, Imelda turned and walked toward the station. Héctor wouldn’t have followed even if he could bring himself to stand. He simply watched until his wife disappeared into a crowd that continually paused to gawk.

He didn’t know how long he stayed, how long he watched families return from or prepare for visits. The officers conferred between each other; one left and the other remained at his side. He replayed what he’d heard again and again. Nothing improved, nothing changed. Just Imelda’s voice, and words he hadn’t expected.

Maybe he should have expected them. Known they were what he’d get.

Somewhere along the repetitions, Imelda’s voice stepped aside just enough for another to join it. Not the border agent’s; the male voice he’d heard, arguments he couldn’t quite make out. A familiar voice, familiarity drowned out by the things Imelda had said.

She’d been arguing with Ernesto.  

******

A/N: Enjoying this fic? Read Part Six here.

[kirkwall-group-therapy]

City of Blood, ch 5

[Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence]

Chapter Five: Daisy

Unfortunately, the Captain of the Guard was not impressed with Aveline’s initiative. But it only raised further questions and revealed other flaws. Aveline dug deeper, and with Hawke’s help, they patrolled Lowtown one night, to get to the bottom of whatever the Captain was trying to hide. It was another ambush, and another guard would have been killed, if Aveline hadn’t stepped in. This time the guard was a handsome, sturdy fellow by the name of Donnic. After the events that night, Aveline took her findings to the Viscount, and the Captain of the Guard was arrested.

“And then he made you Captain of the Guard?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Aveline replied heavily.

“Not happy?” Varric asked.

“I am, it’s just. Unexpected. Sudden. And even though I think I’m up to the task, it’s a big task to undertake,” Aveline said. “How is Bethany doing?”

“You wouldn’t know anything happened to look at her, or talk to her,” Hawke said. “She’s back to her old self. Maybe even more than that. She hasn’t stopped grinning from ear to ear since the night we spent at Anders’ clinic and he carried her all the way home.”

Fenris cocked his eyebrow and took a bite of nug jerky that Varric had offered him.

“So Hawke,” Aveline began. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh oh,” Varric laughed.

“Hush Varric,” Aveline scolded. “When are you going to take the amulet to Sundermount like you promised Flemeth? You are going to take it, aren’t you?”

“Bethany and I were just discussing it the other day actually. We had totally forgotten about it. Bethany found it in our trunk when she was rummaging through it trying to find something nice to wear for when she went to thank Anders,” Hawke said. “We were thinking of going in a few days. Did you want to come Aveline? I don’t think we all need to be there. I think we just have to hand over the amulet.”

“Wait, wait,” Varric said. “Flemeth? You couldn’t be talking about the famed Witch of the Wilds, Flemeth?”

“We are,” Aveline said. “The one and the same.”

“Back up. Tell me the whole story. And I do mean the whole story,” Varric said pulling out some parchment and ink.

“Haven’t we told you how we escaped Lothering, Varric?” Aveline asked.

“The version I got included running from darkspawn and catching a boat to Kirkwall. There was no mention of Flemeth,” he replied.

“Who is Flemeth? A mage I assume, by the moniker ‘Witch of the Wilds’?” Fenris asked.

“You haven’t heard the stories of the Flemeth?” Varric asked. “Does that mean you haven’t much about the Hero of Fereldan?”

“Haven’t exactly had time to be catching up on stories, what with running from Danarius and all,” Fenris retorted.

Varric waved his hand at Fenris. “Say no more Fenris.”

“The short version, Varric,” Fenris said.

“I’m wounded, elf,” Varric laughed. “But I’ll agree only because I’m eager to hear Hawke & Aveline’s story. So, the Hero of Fereldan, the beautiful warrior, daughter of the Cousland family, and now Warden Commander. Well soon after she was initiated into the wardens, the Battle of Ostagar took place. Another story that Aveline & Hawke could tell us more about since they also fought in that battle.”

Surprised, Fenris turned to Hawke & Aveline. This was the first time Fenris had heard that they participated in the Battle of Ostagar.

“No.” Aveline said shortly, refusing to speak of Ostagar.

“Anyway. As I was saying, the Hero of Fereldan lit the beacon to signal for reinforcements, which never came. They were wounded and overrun by darkspawn, and without reinforcements they surely would have perished - if it had not been for Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, who turned herself into a dragon and rescued them from the tower.”

“Who is this Flemeth?” Fenris asked.

“No one really knows,” Aveline said. “There are plenty of stories though. The dragon part, we can vouch for.”

“The stories say many things about Flemeth. Old, old mage. Long past a normal life span. They say she eats children. Some say she possesses them. But very few have ever actually met her,” Varric said. “She was mostly just a legend. A tale mothers used to scare their children into behaving. But nothing more. Until the Hero of Fereldan.”

“Whatever she is, she is very real,” Hawke said. “We … we met her just after Carver died. We had been running from the darkspawn for days. Their numbers were growing. We ran into Aveline and Wesley just a day prior. We came to a clearing. At first there weren’t any darkspawn. But then we heard … thundering footsteps. A darkspawn ogre came charging up the ravine, and straight for us. Carver didn’t even think twice. He was right - it had to be headed off quickly or both mother and Wesley would have died. Carver rushed at it. But he …” Hawke stopped. After a moment, Aveline continued where Hawke had left off.

“The ogre picked Carver up and crushed him with one hand. It was a quick death Hawke. He didn’t feel any pain,” Aveline said, putting her hand on Hawke’s shoulder.

“The ogre was still a threat, but his course had been altered and his charge thwarted, giving Wesley and mother time to retreat to a safer area. Bethany, Aveline, & I dealt with the ogre. As if that weren’t enough, more darkspawn poured into the clearing. We took them out, one after the other, but for each one we killed, two more took its place. We were outnumbered and quickly growing tired. That’s when a dragon appeared. I’m not going to lie. I thought we were done for in that moment. I figured it was the archdemon. But instead of joining the attack against us, it took out the darkspawn in one fell swoop - and landed in front of us. A moment later, the dragon was changing, transforming in glowing light, until a beautiful woman stood there.”

“Beautiful?” Aveline asked. “More like terrifying.”

“I guess I couldn’t help but be impressed by her appearance. So graceful. And her clothing was not what I would have expected from a witch. They were, sophisticated? Maybe sophisticated isn’t quite the right word. It’s hard to describe her.  Beautiful, and terrifying. Her hair though,” Hawke said laughing a little.

“I’ll give you that,” Aveline agreed. “Her hair was certainly a beauty.”

“Do tell,” Varric said.

“At first I thought they were horns,” Aveline said. “And I’m still not entirely sure they weren’t?”

“No, it had to be her hair. They were white, just like her hair, and they didn’t push aside the rest of her hair the way horns would have. Nor did they appear to be hardened like horns. I don’t know. At any rate, she had her hair fashioned into what looked like horns, and they were wrapped in ribbon. I can never do anything with my hair and there she was, just ….” Hawke said.

“Ahahaha, so let me get this straight. Flemeth lands in front of you as a dragon, taking out a horde of darkspawn, then transforms into a woman, and your first thought at the time was her hair?!” Varric asked.

“Mm, no. Her hair was a quick second thought. My first thought was how fucking cool it was to be able to turn into a dragon. Another reason why I always wanted to be a mage. I’ve always envied Bethany for that,” Hawke said.

“You wish you were a mage?” Fenris asked both shocked and disgusted.

“I know you have reason to distrust them Fenris. And I know that there are dangers with being a mage. But. I just think magic is so amazing. I idolized my father who was a mage, and next to him and my sister I always just felt so … ordinary,” Hawke said. “But it’s probably best that I’m not a mage. Haha, I would probably be a bad mage.”

“Oh Maker,” Aveline said. “I can just see it now. Thank the Maker indeed that you are not a mage.”

“So Flemeth is standing there, and …” Varric asked.

“She talked to us. She had seen Hawke take down the ogre, and was impressed,” Aveline said.

“I didn’t take down the ogre, Aveline. We all did,” Hawke said.

“Hawke, be modest all you want, but we both know that it went down because of you. We mostly just managed to distract it for you,” Aveline said.

“Anyway,” Hawke said, quickly shrugging off the compliment. “I don’t think she had initially intended to do anything more than what she had done for us. But after speaking with us, and learning where we were headed, she said that she would help us get to Gwaren - if we delivered an amulet to a clan of Dalish elves living in Sundermount.”

“And so you just accepted this witch’s help, just like that?” Fenris asked.

“Actually,” Aveline said glancing at Hawke. “The rest of us were a bit weary of her. Even Bethany. Perhaps especially Bethany. But Hawke - Hawke trusted her right away I think.”

“We didn’t have any other option. Our path was clear for the moment, but Gwaren was still a long way off and the darkspawn numbers were getting larger, not smaller. And without Carver,” Hawke said.

“We didn’t have any other option, you’re right, but that’s different than trusting her. Still a promise is a promise, and I would not want to break a promise with someone like Flemeth,” Aveline said.

“So you still have the amulet?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Hawke said.

“To answer your earlier question Hawke, no, I don’t need to be there with you. As long as the promise is fulfilled, I will be happy. Or rather, at ease,” Aveline said.

“I would like to come along, if that’s alright Hawke,” Varric said. “I can’t pass up the chance to see how this ends.”

“We’re just handing the amulet over to the keeper of the Dalish clan,” Hawke said. “I really don’t expect there to be any fighting or anything.”

“Still, you can never be too careful,” Fenris said. “I would join as well.”

“I admit, I’m surprised anyone is interested in this little trek, but you’re more than welcome to come along. Bethany and I were planning on heading to Sundermount in two days. She has the day free from her jobs, and Anders’ clinic will be closed for the day so that he can do something or other,” Hawke said.

“You were going to invite Anders?” Fenris asked, bristled.

“No. But if the clinic was open, then Bethany would spend the day there,” Hawke said, rolling her eyes.

“So it’s a date then?” Varric said, winking at Hawke.

“It’s a date,” Hawke winked back, adding a sultry smile.

~

“Have you been to Sundermount before?” Hawke asked Varric, as they approached the road out of the city, to the mountain.

“I have not. I have no reason to. And besides, I’m a city dwarf. Honestly, if this didn’t have something to do with Flemeth, I wouldn’t even be here. All this walking and hiking and climbing is not my thing.” Varric said.

“Have you been to the mountain before, Hawke?” Fenris asked.

“No. And I’m nervous about meeting the Dalish. I know that the Dalish are not fond of humans, to put it mildly. And I don’t blame them. But I hear that they often shoot first and ask questions later, and I don’t want to fight them,” Hawke said.

“Me either,” Bethany said.

“Me three, Sunshine,” Varric agreed.

The group traveled slowly into Dalish territory, doing their best to look non-threatening, if that’s even possible for Hawke. It wasn’t long before they were stopped by Dalish scouts who reluctantly agreed to take them to see their keeper. The keeper greeted them warmly, but informed them that, unfortunately, their task was not yet done. They must take the amulet to the top of Sundermont, and there, with the help of one of their own, they must perform a funeral rite. However, as the keeper mentioned, the way to the top was dangerous. So much so that the clan had been told to stay away. Hawke was suddenly glad that she brought more than just Bethany with her.

Merrill, the clan’s First, joined them part way up the mountain. She was a thin, petite framed young elven girl. Her dark dark was cut short, and dotted with braids. She had light facial Dalish tattoos, and a beautiful green scarf that she wore around her neck. She led them up the mountain and to some caverns that wound through to the other side, and eventually to top of the mountain itself. Hawke realized with horror, what lie in store for them in the caverns, as soon as they stepped foot inside. A faint skittering noise was the only warning they had before a number of giant spiders descended upon them. Hawke shrieked bloody murder at the top of her lungs and leaped into Fenris’ arms in a single bound, still shrieking.

“Hawke!” Fenris shouted, startled and confused. He managed to peel himself free and rushed at the bulk of them. Shaking, Hawke unsheathed her sword and took several deep breaths trying to steel herself. Hawke hacked and slashed at the giant spiders erratically and frantically. One spider got past their circle of defense and tried to pull Hawke to the ground, from behind. It’s legs on her shoulders, pinchers screeching over her head, Hawke screamed again and whirled around, slicing it in half. Unfortunately, this also managed to spray spider guts all over Hawke and Fenris.

“Hawke, don’t tell me you’re scared of spiders,” Varric panted after they killed the last of them.

“Terrified,” Bethany said. “Even tiny ones.”

“Aren’t there giant spiders in the wilds near Lothering?” Varric asked.

“Yes,” Hawke said, still trembling and dripping in spider guts. “Carver used to make fun of me, but in the end he would always fight them for me. I don’t really know why they scare me when so many other things don’t. Or rather, I know exactly why I’m scared of spiders, just not why I’m not scared of reanimated corpses or darkspawn. Well, I am scared of darkspawn but it’s a different kind of fear. A manageable one, anyway.”

“Maker’s breath,” Varric cursed getting a whiff of the spider guts. “That smells awful, Hawke.”

Merrill used a little bit of magic to help clean Hawke off, as best as she could. Fenris refused the magical help, but accepted a rag from Varric which did very little truthfully. The rest of the path was littered with risen skeletons and corpses, but luckily, no more giant spiders.

When they finally reached the top, Merrill instructed Hawke to place the amulet on the alter so that she could perform the funeral rite. Varric, handsome devil that he is, knew that he would be greatly rewarded for joining Hawke. His keen sense for great adventures and stories was right. As Merrill spoke the last words, there was a small flash of shifting light and a moment later, a tall woman with white hair, horns, some sort of crown, and a truly distinguished sense of fashion stood before them. Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds.

“Aah, and here we are,” Flemeth said.

“Son of a nug,” Varric whispered.

“Witch,” Fenris cursed under his breathe.

“Andaran atish’an, Asha’bellanar,” Merrill said, bowing.

“Do you know who I am, beyond than that title?” Flemeth asked.

“I know only a little,” Merrill said.

“Then stand. The people bend their knee too quickly,” Flemeth said, then turned to Hawke. “So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected my amulet would end up in a merchant’s pocket,” she said.

“I keep my promises,” Hawke said. “Though I confess I don’t understand: you were in the amulet the whole time?”

“Just a piece, a small piece, but it was all I needed. A bit of security, should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has,” Flemeth said.

“You are no simple witch,” Fenris said.

“Figure that out yourself, did you?” Flemeth asked, mockingly.

“I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?” Fenris asked.

“Such a curious lad. The chains are broken, but are you truly free?” Flemeth asked.

“You see a great deal,” Fenris said, as an icy chill slithered down everyone’s back sides.

“I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know,” Flemeth said - making absolutely zero sense. But true to Hawke’s story, her hair was spectacular. After some more questions, and some more senseless, eerie answers, Flemeth bid Hawke good bye.

“You have my thanks,” she paused. “And my sympathy.” And she transformed into a dragon and flew off. Just like that.

The keeper thanked Hawke, glad to see that there were at least a few honorable shemlen, that is humans, left in the world. Then she asked Hawke to take Merrill, the clan’s First, back with her to Kirkwall. It was a very unusual request, since the First is the apprentice to the Keeper. A very critical position for a Dalish clan. Everyone at the Dalish camp was acting weird about it too. The Keeper didn’t explain, and Hawke had sense enough not to pry. So they headed back to Kirkwall, mostly in silence. Varric asked Merrill a few questions, and had arrived at a nickname for her before they even reached the city: Daisy.

~

“So, how did it go? And where is Hawke?” Aveline asked, sitting down at Varric’s table as the others arrived.

“It was not what I expected,” Fenris said.

“Fenris, do you live here with Varric?” Aveline asked.

“No. You know I live in Danarius’ old mansion in Hightown,” Fenris said, puzzled.

“It’s just that- oh never mind,” Aveline said.

“Hawke,” Varric started as he rummaged through some papers, looking for more blank parchment. He had been busy writing since they got back. “Hawke is getting Daisy setup in the alienage.”

“Daisy? Who?” Aveline asked, turning to Fenris.

“The Keeper asked us to bring her to Kirkwall, once we finished returning the amulet to Flemeth,” Bethany said.

“Wait, you actually saw Flemeth?” Aveline asked.

“In the flesh, or at least I think,” Varric said.

“She was in the amulet,” Bethany explained. “Or, a piece of her was.”

“I don’t understand,” Aveline said.

“Sweetheart, none of us do,” Varric said.

“’A fragment cast a drift from the whole. A bit of floxsam to cling to in the storm,’” Fenris quoted.

“Oooo,” Varric said, racing to jot it down. “Thanks Fenris. I couldn’t remember the whole line.”

“And then she turned into a dragon,” Fenris said.

“She did. She really did,” Varric said, shaking his head without looking up as he wrote.

“Sounds like I missed all the fun,” Anders said as he joined the group and sat down.

“You would say that,” Fenris said, shooting daggers with his eyes. Anders fired back.

“I for one am glad I was not there,” Aveline said. “That woman scares me.”

“Me too,” Bethany said. “She gives me the chills.”

“Me three,” Varric said. “But what a story! It was worth it just for that. A dragon!” He shook his head again.

“And so this Daisy person?” Aveline asked again.

“She is the Keeper’s First. It’s … like an apprentice, she said. It was all a bit weird, the way everyone was acting, but they asked us to bring Merrill to Kirkwall. Hawke agreed,” Bethany said.

“She’s a mage,” Fenris spat. “Who’s dabbled in blood magic.”

“That makes me uneasy as well,” Bethany confessed. “But she is, I think, the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“She’s naive,” Fenris said.

“Always glad to have another mage around,” Anders said. Fenris turned and glowered at him.

“The alienage, huh?” Aveline asked. “Poor girl sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”

“No, she doesn’t. Poor kid. She looked so wilted when we left, to see what the alienage looked like,” Varric said.

“That place is depressing. Let us speak of it no longer,” Fenris said.

With that the table grew silent, all except for Varric’s scribbling and occasional rustling of papers, and murmuring to himself as he wrote. Fenris and Aveline called it a night early. Bethany and Anders stuck around chatting, while Varric continued writing. Hawke joined sometime later, just as Bethany and Anders were leaving.

“Those two seem to be getting along quite well,” Hawke said, watching Bethany alight with pure joy as she exited with Anders, who was escorting her home before returning to Darktown.

“Huh? Oh ya,” Varric said, looking up for the first time in a while.

“Hawke, you sure know how to stumble into some pretty crazy shit,” Varric said.

“Don’t I know it,” she replied, downing her mug in one go.

“How is Daisy settling in?” Varric asked.

“Daisy? You already assigned her a nickname, that fast?” Hawke asked.

“That fast,” Varric laughed.

“She’s …” Hawke paused. “It’s going to take some time for her to settle in.” They were silent for a moment.

“Did you know that the first time we met Flemeth, I actually asked her if she could teach me how to turn into a dragon?” Hawke said. “Pointless, I know, since I’m not a mage. But I couldn’t resist.”

“Haha. That’s pretty ballsy, Hawke,” Varric said.

“What can I say? I just want to be a dragon,” Hawke said and grinned.

“I know, and that’s why I love you,” Varric laughed.

~

Hawke checked on Merrill a few days later, to see how she was doing. Leandra had packed Hawke a basket of baked goods as nice “welcome to your new home” gift.

“Hawke,” Merrill said when she answered the door. “I … I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Hawke said. Merrill invited her inside.

“Oh, you know. I’m … I’m getting by,” Merrill said.

“I have a ‘welcome home’ present for you,” she handed Merrill the basket.

“What this?” Merrill asked, pulling out a small wrapped package. She unwrapped it carefully, to discover a small carved statue of Andraste.

“Ah,” Hawke laughed nervously. “It’s a tradition in Fereldan to give new home owners a statue of Andraste. I … I realized after I gave one to Fenris that maybe it’s not the most appropriate home warming gift for everyone. I honestly don’t know what else to get someone though, in these situations. At least it’s pretty?” Hawke said sheepishly.

“It’s … thank you, Hawke,” Merrill smiled.

“Mother baked sweet rolls and a baguette, another tradition in Fereldan,” Hawke said.

“Thank you, Hawke. It’s a very sweet gesture,” Merrill said.

______________________________________________

This fanfic is based on the amazing Dragon Age games, specifically focusing on the DA2 game. Thank you EA/BIOWARE for such amazing games & characters!

I’m new to tumblr, so please bear with me as I figure out the best formatting.

[vagabond-sunshine]

Fantasy Based on Reality

Unexpected Detour

Summary: 

The race to Galdin stalls the guys, where the girls find their way to pass the time. And a few drunken mishaps.

Count: 3928

Read on Ao3

It was like the desert roads seemed to go one forever to Scarlet and Jynx. They had just passed Hammerhead, deciding it a good time to stop their long trek for a small break. Both dismounting to clean the bugs and some dirt from their faces as well as peel off another layer of clothing before they had a heat stroke.

“What deity thought it would be a good idea to make a desert so long,” Jynx questioned folding her trench coat to strap it to the back of her bike.

“Beats me,” Scarlet muttered running her hand through her hair, frowning at the sight of bugs falling from it. “By the Six, I hope they have a bar in Galdin.”

“If not I packed a few bottles for the trip,” Jynx smiled cleaning off the sun glasses she wore, now placing them atop her head. “Do don’t go lighting anyone on fire.”

“You’re no fun sometimes,” the Princess laughed looking back the direction they had come from. “Haven’t seen the guys since we left.”

“They’re big boys,” the shield commented stretching her legs. “I think it’s safe to say we’ll beat them there. Why don’t we rest for the night? Ten-hour drive, I’m pretty beat.”

“Think about it this way, the faster we get there, the faster we can rest and have a few drinks,” Scarlet proposed already climbing back onto her bike.

Jynx let out a soft sigh nodding in agreement. “Guess so,” she climbed onto hers. “And here I thought you would have wanted to wait for Ignis,” she teased lightly.

Scarlet scoffed, thinking of a comeback as she took off. Her shield not far behind, the echoes of their engines like thunder through the dunes. “At this rate, we’ll have the camp set up and be sipping vodka from coconuts!” she called over her shoulder.

 The four men could only wish they could say that. The Regalia had broken down half way to Hammerhead. Gladio was trying to hail down a passerby, resulting in people speeding past them. And that was why they were here now, Ignis at the wheel, Noctis and Prompto pushed the sides as Gladio had the back.

“Un-bel-iev-able,” Noct grunted.

“Not exactly a fairy tale beginning, huh, Prince Noctis?” Gladio muttered.

“We let ourselves get carried away trying to keep up with the girls,” Ignis commented with a sigh. He was right, in trying to stay on pace with the speed demons, the car just couldn’t handle the strain, coming to a sputtering stop in the middle of the road.

“Look,” Prompto quipped. “These things happen. But we definitely aren’t going to win the bet now…”

“Let’s just hope this isn’t some omen,” the male shield grunted pressing harder against the trunk of the Regalia.

“Gladio,” Noctis called. “Do me a favor, push this thing by yourself.”

“All by myself?” the elder let out a dry chuckle.

“You won’t even notice if we just let go,” Prompto offered, nearly ready to step back from the side of the car.

“Prompto, don’t even think about it.”

“Save some breath for pushing,” Ignis sighed once more. “We should have called the girls back here, perhaps Jynx could have fixed this. She did customize their bikes for the trip.”

“And let Scar know we got stuck? No chance,” Noct retorted looking to the Advisor. “It’s time we switch!”

“Nuh-uh! We just switched back there!” Gladio called.

“And besides,” Prompto smiled. “It’s my turn, Noct.”

Ignis smirked at this still trying to get a hold of help on his phone. “His ‘turn’.”

After a few more paces, Prompto let out a low groan. “My hands are killing me.” He tried to readjust them, ending up as he started. One hand on the column of the windshield, the other holding tightly to the door.

“You’d rather I kill you with mine?” Gladio offered looking up to the blonde from where he pushed.

“Easy there, tough guy, just think, we’ll get this fixed and be in Galdin where the girls are probably already splashing around in swim suites.”

“Prompt… That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Noct grumbled lowly.

“Besides, I don’t think Lady Jynx would be apt to let you try to take photos of them, remember what happened to your last camera?”

“I still have the reels from that!” Prompto defended.

“Any luck?” Noct asked to Ignis trying to change the subject.

“Only a busy signal…” The other replied.

 Jynx looked ahead to the horizon, the smell of salt water coming as they flew over another set of dunes. Scarlet could smell it too, judging by her smile. They came to a stop at the top of a hill overlooking a canopy like building sitting nicely at the end of a dock in the shimmering waters. The original plan was to get to Galdin and from there take the boats over the seas to Altissia for the wedding ceremony that would bring peace.  

They had made it down the hill, following the path of the road before them. It wasn’t long before the two had come to a stop beneath an awning type structure that was beside a small gas pump. Scarlet was the first off her bike, already basking in the cool breeze that flowed through the small resort. The waters beckoned her, but it would have to wait, they needed to get set up for the night that was fast approaching.

She looked to Jynx, seeing her already grabbing the couple of bags from the back of her dusted two wheeler. They turned seeing a few families play along the beach, small children splashing and crying in delight. The parents nodded to the two, it was almost comical, the locals were all dressed is pastel colors, reflecting the warm sun, whereas Jynx and Scarlet were all in black, marking them as citizens of the Crown City.

As they walked, the pair noted a small fishing shack and a small dock for the sport. Beyond that, Jynx saw the perfect spot to set up. A nice flat rock smoothed out from the wind and sand, just behind a few boulders offering privacy from the other groups around.

 The guys had finally made it to Hammerhead, Prompto nearly falling over dramatically when the car was parked. It was there they had met Cindy, the upbeat granddaughter of the mechanic, Cid. They were finally able to get the car into the garage. Cid lecturing them about how it was a classic, not a race car. They could really only blame themselves for that one.

“Now we play the waiting game,” Ignis said turning back the group once the garage door closed. Cid had said it would take a little while, they had done a bit more damage than they intended.

“Never liked that game,” Prompto sighed turning and walking toward where Cindy stood.

“You were never any good at it either,” Noctis added with a small smile as they regrouped. Cindy stepping by the young blonde.

“Y’all ain’t been out this way before, have ya? Go on, have a look around! This’ll make sure y’all don’t get lost,” she said smiling brightly tossing Noctis a map of the small area. “And while you explore, Paw-paw said to tell you boys to take care of a little vermin problem we have around here. Already marked it for ya.”

He took it gratefully, opening as she walked away. There wasn’t much around, some herb gardens and sand. Lots of sand. There were also areas marked for camping, something that Gladio had pointed to excitedly. Eventually they decided to have a small hike around, to the areas marked for the ‘vermin’ problems.

“Perhaps, we could collect some supplies from the wild,” Ignis offered.

“Don’t you think we have enough?” Gladio asked pulling on his leather coat in exchange for the muscle shirt he had been wearing.

“You can never have enough,” the Advisor retorted following behind Noctis.

They had walked for a good hour or so, the sun ready to set beyond the horizon. The sky taking on a soft purple hue with the mix of orange and blue. One would describe it as beautiful. A fabled scene displayed on a post card. For a moment Noctis half expected Scarlet’s hawk to swoop down and drop one to him. Asking where they were.

“So, uh, where are we headed anyways?” Prompto asked pausing to snap a picture of the sun set.

“Nowhere until repairs are done, then like the girls, we head for Galdin Quay.” Ignis answered pausing with the other to clean his glasses holding them to the light to verify the short work of his cloth.

“Then after that, we all hop a boat, and before you know it, loverboy and his sister get hitched to the heirs of Tenebrae,” Gladio added motioning for the others to follow.

“Hey, you mind not bringing that up around Scarlet? She’s still brooding over that idea,” Noct said glancing back. The others looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s been how long since you told her?” Prompt asked hooking an arm over his best friend’s shoulders. “How can she still be bent out of shape over it?”

“Scarlet is not one to go through with something that truly makes her unhappy,” Ignis commented. “I’m sure you remember the incident where we tried to teach her to drive.”

Gladio laughed softly. “I’ve never seen someone be able to hide how drunk they were so well. And to think, we could have made it back to the Citadel.”

“But we ended up in a jail cell for three hours,” Noct finished shaking his head with a chuckle. At the time the experience was terrifying, looking back now, it was worth the laugh.  The laughter ended as a loud hiss called the group’s attention. Scorpion like creatures stood there, a small pack each shaking their tails, ready to strike.

Each male phased their weapons of choice into existence, this was going to be fun.

 Jynx sat at the edge of the rock they had just finished pitching the tent on. Her boots left at the entrance of their tent she dug her feet into the warm sand. A bottle of rum in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other she watched the sun disappear below the waters before her. “How long do you think it’ll take them?”

The shield only shrugged at her Queen’s question. The sound of the Regalia had yet to meet their ears. “Who cares… It’ll be nice not to have them around for a while. Noct is being a little brat and Prompto… Six, does that guy ever get tired?”

Scarlet gave a soft laugh brushing her hair behind her ear as she approached her friend, already having a fire going good and strong. “Please,” she teased lightly. “Noct is only sometimes a brat, and that’s coming from me. And you know you love Prompt like a big brother.” A sneer made its way to the Princess’ tone, “Besides, you know you’d love to see Gladio shirtless.”

It had been no secret between the two that the former Glaive had a thing for the walking brick wall. On more than one drunk occasion, she had professed to Scarlet without care. Though her feelings still shied her away from actually coming forward about it. A blush found Jynx’s cheeks as she leaned forward, almost hiding behind her hair. “You shut up!”

“Just imagine it,” the future Queen pressed. “All those muscles ripping in the sunlight, getting all nice and wet from the water.” She chuckled lightly sitting beside her friend grabbing the bottle of rum taking a healthy swig. “Damn, I’d like to see that myself actually.”

“A dream come true,” Jynx said with a soft wishful sigh leaning back once more.

 The guys had just finished the last group of Scorpion creatures. Noct’s phone buzzing and ringing loudly from his pocket. “Who could this be?” he asked answering.

“Hey it’s Cindy, how goes the huntin’?” the perky female said instantly.

“Just finished actually,” Noct responded nodding to the bodies that lay before them.

“That’s great, cause I got one more hunt for y’all. Only this time, it’s for a person.” Noct’s eyes widened at this. “Fella named Dave went off and we ain’t heard from him since. Reckon he’s staked out a spot in an old shack nearby.”

“Old shack…?” the Prince questioned looking around, spotting a rickety old building around a few shrubs. “Oh, we’ll take a look.” He ended the call, the others already following. Already asking what the young woman was asking for. He explained, calming them slightly as they approached the door to the place. Opening it, there was nothing inside. Not even a light.

That had to be when a group of hounds got the jump on them, one nearly taking off Prompto’s hand had Ignis not slain it. When the dust settled, the four made it outside to see another shack a few meters away. Maybe that one was the right one.

Indeed, it was, Noctis knocking at the door, an older man opening slowly. “Who’s out there?”

“And look who’s here, the man of the hour—Dave right? Been looking for you,” Gladio said leaning on the wall of the small hut the man stood in.

“Didn’t mean to cause y’all any trouble. Been stuck here on account of my sprained ankle,” he lifted his leg slightly. “Something funny ‘bout them varmints, I gave ‘em hell, but couldn’t finish the job. Still one mean mutt about.” Dave then looked at the group as a whole. “Y’all don’t look much like hunters, but whaddaya say? Put that puppy to rest for me?”

They agreed, Dave telling them where to find the creature, the moon already rising in the sky as they searched, hearing the snarls not too far ahead of them.

 The girls stumbled along the beach, wading in and out of the water that gently splashed their legs. The locals had all gone in for the night, well aware of the dangers the night brought. “Dumb boys,” Jynx muttered to herself, nearly falling to her face dropping her now empty bottle. “Should’a fuckin’ been here by now,” she slurred looking toward the road again. Only darkness easing down it. Her drunken thoughts began to race. What if Ignis had crashed trying to get them all there? What if they were hunkered down somewhere fighting for their lives? Worse, what if they were all dead?

The shield caught Scarlet’s nod, the other woman holding her stomach slightly. Her face looking a little sickly in the moon light. “Where do you think they are?” Jynx pressed, watching the other stumble slightly.

“Fuck if I know,” the Princess replied, a burp coming from her chest, a scowl afterword. She swallowed hard, the threat of bile coming from her stomach at the amount of liquor she consumed. “I am never having a drinking contest with you again,” she slurred lowly.

“Couldn’t hold it?” Jynx gave a soft laugh catching herself nearly tripping over a rock.

“I can hold it just fine!”

“You’re about to throw up!” The shield cried, earning a small shove from the other woman. Both nearly toppling over into the water. “I’ll throw up on you if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

The threat was met with laughter from both as they climbed the small hill that lead to their camp. Each flopping onto the rock, panting as if they had run a marathon. Jynx was flat on her back, sighing at the contact of smooth and cool surface on her skin. Granted, they were dressed as cool as they could get, Scarlet in a bikini, her Glaive in a bikini top and swim trunks. But with all the alcohol, things got fairly warm.

“Do we still have booze?” Scarlet questioned looking down at her friend who only nodded pointing to the bikes under the awning. Her arm was covering her eyes at this point. “Oh thank the Six,” the Princess sighed laying on her front by the fire.

Jynx had fallen asleep relatively easy, since childhood she had been used to the feeling of sleeping on the floor. Scarlet, however, tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable under her small blanket. Finally, she managed to ease her eyes closed for a little while.

 The guys had gotten rid of the Dualhorn that threatened the small town. Now that they made it back to the Regalia, they wanted to weep. It was finally looking good as new, Cindy yawning as she looked it over. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Ain’t she purdy?” she asked turning to the guys.

“She’s almost too pretty for the road,” Gladio commented looking over the handy work.

“She’s back!” Prompto cheered. “We should all get a picture with her!” He practically shoved his camera in Cindy’s hands the guys gathering around the car in the moon light. A snap and flash later, three were already piled into the car.

“Would y’all mind makin’ a little delivery for me?” Cindy asked to Noct as he finished thanking her.

“No, not at all,” was his reply.

“Perfect! Thought you’d say that, I already put it in the trunk.” She motioned to the car. “There should be a motel on your way to Galdin. If y’all wouldn’t mind giving that to the owner, that’s be swell.”

“Grandpa like grandkid…” Noct sighed climbing into the back seat beside Gladio. He had let Ignis drive, sure they were all tired, but Ignis could handle it, the man used to pull all-nighters for the academy. And so they were off.

Prompto seemed to sigh looking at the scenery. “Hammerhead is a garage like no other, I’m gonna miss it when the road trip is over with.”

Noct looked to his friend curiously.

“There’s no reason you can’t visit anytime you want,” Gladio commented looking up from his phone. “I’m sure Cindy will be more than happy to look after your car, oh wait…”

“Oh so that’s what this is about?” Ignis chimed in, a smile coming to his features as he starred at the road ahead.

“Y’know I can lend you the Regalia,” Noct offered catching on.

Prompto gasped looking back at him. “Thanks for the offer, but once we’re back in the Crown City, I think I’d better score my own wheels.”

They had made it to the motel in near record time, the special works of Cindy and Cid did wonders. The owner was sitting at the window when Noct approached. He smiled up clearly already getting the call from Hammerhead. “Come all this way to deliver the goods, I thank y’all kindly. We’ll go ahead and get it from the trunk.”

Noct nodded hearing a soft bark from behind him, turning and seeing his faithful dog, Umbra there. In the small sling on his back a book, the young man remembered from his childhood. The time his bride-to-be gave it to him, asking him to put something in it and send it back to her via the dog. He took his time writing out his message, placing a sticker from the garage within and putting it back in the sling.

Patting the dogs head he sent him off back to wonder looking for the Princess of Tenebrae.

 Scarlet’s head snapped up, her vision still slightly blurred, but she could have sworn she heard a low growl not far from the camp. Yet, there was nothing there, only the sound of the waves and a few lamps lighting the area. Brushing it off she laid her head back on her arms tying to chase sleep once more. That was before she heard another growl, much closer this time.

That was all it took for her to get up on her knees to her shield’s side, shaking her arm almost violently. “Jynx!” she whispered, trying not to attract whatever was prowling around. “Wake up there’s something here with us!”

There was a quiet groan as the other woman turned onto her side, her back to the Princess. Scarlet couldn’t believe it; her friend was out cold. She tried again, “Wake up, you drunk! Grab your sword!”

“Who… The fuck you callin’ a drunk?” The Glaive slurred glancing back at the Princess. “Scar, you’re imagining things, go back to sleep.”

“Back to sleep?” the other wanted to shout, but kept her voice just above a whisper ready to smack her best friend across the back of her head, that was before of course, something snapped on her leg tightly. She had to fight the scream that wanted to leave her throat looking back and seeing a Seadevil. It’s eyes red as the blood that oozed from its jaws that held Scarlet’s leg. She reached to shake Jynx once more, being yanked back just as her hand brushed her shield’s shoulder.

It then started to drag her. First off the rock that held their camp then to the waters that showed the moon’s reflection. Scarlet found her voice, screaming for her shield.

Said woman was up, stumbling in grabbing her sword before a moment of sobriety hit as she took off down the hill. “Scar!” she called watching her Queen smash an empty bottle against the creature’s head. She got to the captured female just at the Seadevil made it to the water. Wrapping her arms around the Princess’ waist and pulling as hard as she could. A small game of tug-o-war later, Jynx had Scarlet freed and pulled up onto the beach. Facing the monster down, blade in front of her and a death grip.

Scarlet shook head, trying to clear her vision in time to see Jynx slash at the beast. Its jaws snapped at her arms, her head, anything it could reach, barely missing. The green eyed woman coming to conclusion, this was for too much for one person to handle, let alone drunk. They needed help, or at least, Scarlet to be able to use her magic. It was what had her trying to stand now.

“Fall back!” she shouted. “I’m gonna fry that fucker!”

Her calls fell on deaf ears, Jynx grunting above the Seadevil’s roars. Both had taken slight notice of the head lights that shown behind them. Scarlet turned her head, making out the Regalia as four bodies jumped out of the car. Weapons drawn they were sprinting in the sand to aid the two females.

But Jynx was already getting tired, her sober moment fleeting as she made one last stab at the creature. Her sword jabbed deeply into its shoulder, it let out a pained sound catching her arm in its jaws. She let out a pained cry pushing her sword in deeper, the Seadevil only biting harder in response. That was when she saw the four men surround the beast, ready to strike.

Scarlet watched the scene unfold. She found her strength to stand fully, throwing her hands in front of her a bright flash of light formed from her palms. Lightning shooting from them to the beast. It may have been a small misstep as Jynx cried out being hit as well. However, she managed to pull her sword from the shoulder of the creature when it released her arm.

They watched it turn and swim off into the water, Scarlet toppling over into the relatively soft sand. Jynx on the other hand smiled to the guys. “About time,” she muttered before dropping to her knees and falling face first into the water.

[readbookywooks]

‘No,’ said Nijel.

He was trembling with rage, or possibly with cold, and was nearly as pale as the glaciers that rumbled past below them.

Conina sighed. ‘Well, just how do you think-’ she began.

‘Take me down somewhere a few minutes ahead of them,’ said Nijel.

‘I really don’t see how that would help.’

‘I wasn’t asking your opinion,’ said Nijel, quietly. ‘Just do it. Put me down a little way ahead of them so I’ve got a while to get sorted out.’

‘Get what sorted out?’

Nijel didn’t answer.

‘I said,’ said Conina, ‘get what-’

‘Shut up!’

‘I don’t see why-’

‘Look,’ said Nijel, with the patience that lies just short of axe-murdering. ‘The ice is going to cover the whole world, right? Everyone’s going to die, okay? Except for us for a little while, I suppose, until these horses want their, their, their oats or the lavatory or whatever, which isn’t much use to us except maybe Creosote will just about have time to write a sonnet or something about how cold it is all of a sudden, and the whole of human history is about to be scraped up and in these circumstances I would like very much to make it completely clear that I am not about to be argued with, is that absolutely understood?’

He paused for breath, trembling like a harpstring.

Conina hesitated. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, as though she was considering arguing, and then she thought better of it.

They found a small clearing in a pine forest a mile or two ahead of the herd, although the sound of it was clearly audible and there was a line of steam above the trees and the ground was dancing like a drumtop.

Nijel strolled to the middle of the clearing and made a few practice swings with his sword. The others watched him thoughtfully.

‘If you don’t mind,’ whispered Creosote to Conina, ‘I’ll be off. It’s at times like this that sobriety loses its attractions and I’m sure the end of the world will look a lot better through the bottom of a glass, if it’s all the same to you. Do you believe in Paradise, o peachcheeked blossom?’

‘Not as such, no.’

‘Oh,’ said Creosote. ‘Well, in that case we probably won’t be seeing each other again.’ He sighed. ‘What a waste. All this was just because of a geas. Um. Of course, if by some unthinkable chance-’

‘Goodbye,’ said Conina.

Creosote nodded miserably, wheeled the horse and disappeared over the treetops.

Snow was shaking down from the branches around the clearing. The thunder of the approaching glaciers filled the air.

Nijel started when she tapped him on the shoulder, and dropped his sword.

‘What are you doing here?’ he snapped, fumbling desperately in the snow.

‘Look, I’m not prying or anything,’ said Conina meekly, ‘but what exactly do you have in mind?’

She could see a rolling heap of bulldozed snow and soil bearing down on them through the forest, the mind-numbing sound of the leading glaciers now overlaid with the rhythmic snapping of tree trunks. And, advancing implacably above the treeline, so high that the eye mistook them at first for sky, the blue-green prows.

‘Nothing,’ said Nijel, ‘nothing at all. We’ve just got to resist them, that’s all there is to it. That’s what we’re here for.’

‘But it won’t make any difference,’ she said.

‘It will to me. If we’re going to die anyway, Iii rather die like this. Heroically.’

‘Is it heroic to die like this?’ said Conina.

‘I think it is,’ he said, ‘and when it comes to dying, there’s only one opinion that matters.’

‘Oh.’

A couple of deer blundered into the clearing, ignored the humans in their blind panic, and rocketed away.

‘You don’t have to stay,’ said Nijel. ‘I’ve got this geas, you see.’

Conina looked at the backs of her hands.

‘I think I should,’ she said, and added, ‘You know, I thought maybe, you know, if we could just get to know one another better-’

‘Mr and Mrs Harebut, was that what you had in mind?’ he said bluntly.

Her eyes widened. ‘Well-’ she began.

‘Which one did you intend to be?’ he said.

The leading glacier smashed into the clearing just behind its bow wave, its top lost in a cloud of its own creation.

At exactly the same time the trees opposite it bent low as a hot wind blew from the Rim. It was loaded with voices - petulant, bickering voices - and tore into the clouds like a hot iron into water.

Conina and Nijel threw themselves down into snow which turned to warm slush under them. Something like a thunderstorm crashed overhead, filled with shouting and what they at first thought were screams although, thinking about them later, they seemed more like angry arguments. It went on for a long time, and then began to fade in the direction of the Hub.

Warm water flooded down the front of Nijel’s vest. He lifted himself cautiously, and then nudged Conina.

Together they scrambled through the slush and mud to the top of the slope, climbed through a logjam of smashed timber and boulders, and stared at the scene.

The glaciers were retreating, under a cloud stuffed with lightning. Behind them the landscape was a network of lakes and pools.

‘Did we do that?’ said Conina.

‘It would be nice to think so, wouldn’t it?’ said Nijel.

‘Yes, but did-’ she began.

‘Probably not. Who knows? Let’s just find a horse,’ he said.

‘The Apogee,’ said War, ‘or something. I’m pretty sure.’

They had staggered out of the inn and were sitting on a bench in the afternoon sunshine. Even War had been persuaded to take off some of his armour.

‘Dunno,’ said Famine, ‘Don’t think so.’

Pestilence shut his crusted eyes and leaned back against the warm stones.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘it was something about the end of the world.’

War sat and thoughtfully scratched his chin. He hiccuped.

‘What, the whole world?’ he said.

‘I reckon.’

War gave this some further consideration. ‘I reckon we’re well out of it, then,’ he said.

People were returning to Ankh-Morpork, which was no longer a city of empty marble but was once again its old self, sprawling as randomly and colourfully as a pool of vomit outside the all-night takeaway of History.

And the University had been rebuilt, or had rebuilt itself, or in some strange way had never been unbuilt; every strand of ivy, every rotting casement, was back in place. The sourcerer had offered to replace everything as good as new, all wood sparkling, all stone unstained, but the Librarian had been very firm on the subject. He wanted everything replaced as good as old.

The wizards came creeping back with the dawn, in ones or twos, scuttling for their old rooms, trying to avoid one another’s gaze, trying to remember a recent past that was already becoming unreal and dream-like.

Conina and Nijel arrived around breakfast time and, out of kindness, found a livery stable for War’s horse.[25] It was Conina who insisted that they look for Rincewind at the University, and who, therefore, first saw the books.

They were flying out of the Tower of Art, spiralling around the University buildings and swooping through the door of the reincarnated Library. One or two of the more impudent grimoires were chasing sparrows, or hovering hawk-like over the quad.

The Librarian was leaning against the doorway, watching his charges with a benevolent eye. He waggled his eyebrows at Conina, the nearest he ever got to a conventional greeting.

‘Is Rincewind here?’ she said.

‘Oook.’

‘Sorry?’

The ape didn’t answer but took them both by the hand and, walking between them like a sack between two poles, led them across the cobbles to the tower.

There were a few candles alight inside, and they saw Coin seated on a stool. The Librarian bowed them into his presence like an ancient retainer in the oldest family of all, and withdrew.

Coin nodded at them. ‘He knows when people don’t understand him,’ he said. ‘Remarkable, isn’t he?’

‘Who are you?’ said Conina.

‘Coin,’ said Coin.

Are you a student here?’

‘I’m learning quite a lot, I think.’

Nijel was wandering around the walls, giving them the occasional prod. There had to be some good reason why they didn’t fall down, but if there was it didn’t lie in the realms of civil engineering.

‘Are you looking for Rincewind?’ said Coin.

Conina frowned. ‘How did you guess that?’

‘He told me some people would come looking for him.’

Conina relaxed. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘we’ve had a bit of a trying time. I thought perhaps it was magic, or something. He’s all right, isn’t he? I mean, what’s been happening? Did he fight the sourcerer?’

‘Oh, yes. And he won. It was very … interesting. I saw it all. But then he had to go,’ said Coin, as though reciting.

‘What, just like that?’ said Nijel.

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Conina. She was beginning to crouch, her knuckles whitening.

‘It is true,’ said Coin. ‘Everything I say is true. It has to be.’

‘I want to-’ Conina began, and Coin stood up, extended a hand and said, ‘Stop.’

She froze. Nijel stiffened in mid-frown.

‘You will leave,’ said Coin, in a pleasant, level voice, ‘and you will ask no more questions. You will be totally satisfied. You have all your answers. You will live happily ever after. You will forget hearing these words. You will go now.’

They turned slowly and woodenly, like puppets, and trooped to the door. The Librarian opened it for them, ushered them through and shut it behind them.

Then he stared at Coin, who sagged back on to the stool.

‘All right, all right,’ said the boy, ‘but it was only a little magic. I had to. You said yourself people had to forget.’

‘Oook?’

‘I can’t help it! It’s too easy to change things!’ He clutched his head. ‘I’ve only got to think of something! I can’t stay, everything I touch goes wrong, it’s like trying to sleep on a heap of eggs! This world is too thin! Please tell me what to do!’

The Librarian spun around on his bottom a few times, a sure sign of deep thought.

Exactly what he said is not recorded, but Coin smiled, nodded, shook the Librarian’s hand, and opened his own hands and drew them up and around him and stepped into another world. It had a lake in, and some distant mountains, and a few pheasants watching him suspiciously from under the trees. It was the magic all sourcerers learned, eventually.

Sourcerers never become part of the world. They merely wear it for a while.

He looked back, halfway across the turf, and waved at the Librarian. The ape gave him an encouraging nod.

And then the bubble shrank inside itself, and the last sourcerer vanished from this world and into a world of his own.

[readbookywooks]

‘No,’ said Nijel.

He was trembling with rage, or possibly with cold, and was nearly as pale as the glaciers that rumbled past below them.

Conina sighed. ‘Well, just how do you think-’ she began.

‘Take me down somewhere a few minutes ahead of them,’ said Nijel.

‘I really don’t see how that would help.’

‘I wasn’t asking your opinion,’ said Nijel, quietly. ‘Just do it. Put me down a little way ahead of them so I’ve got a while to get sorted out.’

‘Get what sorted out?’

Nijel didn’t answer.

‘I said,’ said Conina, ‘get what-’

‘Shut up!’

‘I don’t see why-’

‘Look,’ said Nijel, with the patience that lies just short of axe-murdering. ‘The ice is going to cover the whole world, right? Everyone’s going to die, okay? Except for us for a little while, I suppose, until these horses want their, their, their oats or the lavatory or whatever, which isn’t much use to us except maybe Creosote will just about have time to write a sonnet or something about how cold it is all of a sudden, and the whole of human history is about to be scraped up and in these circumstances I would like very much to make it completely clear that I am not about to be argued with, is that absolutely understood?’

He paused for breath, trembling like a harpstring.

Conina hesitated. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, as though she was considering arguing, and then she thought better of it.

They found a small clearing in a pine forest a mile or two ahead of the herd, although the sound of it was clearly audible and there was a line of steam above the trees and the ground was dancing like a drumtop.

Nijel strolled to the middle of the clearing and made a few practice swings with his sword. The others watched him thoughtfully.

‘If you don’t mind,’ whispered Creosote to Conina, ‘I’ll be off. It’s at times like this that sobriety loses its attractions and I’m sure the end of the world will look a lot better through the bottom of a glass, if it’s all the same to you. Do you believe in Paradise, o peachcheeked blossom?’

‘Not as such, no.’

‘Oh,’ said Creosote. ‘Well, in that case we probably won’t be seeing each other again.’ He sighed. ‘What a waste. All this was just because of a geas. Um. Of course, if by some unthinkable chance-’

‘Goodbye,’ said Conina.

Creosote nodded miserably, wheeled the horse and disappeared over the treetops.

Snow was shaking down from the branches around the clearing. The thunder of the approaching glaciers filled the air.

Nijel started when she tapped him on the shoulder, and dropped his sword.

‘What are you doing here?’ he snapped, fumbling desperately in the snow.

‘Look, I’m not prying or anything,’ said Conina meekly, ‘but what exactly do you have in mind?’

She could see a rolling heap of bulldozed snow and soil bearing down on them through the forest, the mind-numbing sound of the leading glaciers now overlaid with the rhythmic snapping of tree trunks. And, advancing implacably above the treeline, so high that the eye mistook them at first for sky, the blue-green prows.

‘Nothing,’ said Nijel, ‘nothing at all. We’ve just got to resist them, that’s all there is to it. That’s what we’re here for.’

‘But it won’t make any difference,’ she said.

‘It will to me. If we’re going to die anyway, Iii rather die like this. Heroically.’

‘Is it heroic to die like this?’ said Conina.

‘I think it is,’ he said, ‘and when it comes to dying, there’s only one opinion that matters.’

‘Oh.’

A couple of deer blundered into the clearing, ignored the humans in their blind panic, and rocketed away.

‘You don’t have to stay,’ said Nijel. ‘I’ve got this geas, you see.’

Conina looked at the backs of her hands.

‘I think I should,’ she said, and added, ‘You know, I thought maybe, you know, if we could just get to know one another better-’

‘Mr and Mrs Harebut, was that what you had in mind?’ he said bluntly.

Her eyes widened. ‘Well-’ she began.

‘Which one did you intend to be?’ he said.

The leading glacier smashed into the clearing just behind its bow wave, its top lost in a cloud of its own creation.

At exactly the same time the trees opposite it bent low as a hot wind blew from the Rim. It was loaded with voices - petulant, bickering voices - and tore into the clouds like a hot iron into water.

Conina and Nijel threw themselves down into snow which turned to warm slush under them. Something like a thunderstorm crashed overhead, filled with shouting and what they at first thought were screams although, thinking about them later, they seemed more like angry arguments. It went on for a long time, and then began to fade in the direction of the Hub.

Warm water flooded down the front of Nijel’s vest. He lifted himself cautiously, and then nudged Conina.

Together they scrambled through the slush and mud to the top of the slope, climbed through a logjam of smashed timber and boulders, and stared at the scene.

The glaciers were retreating, under a cloud stuffed with lightning. Behind them the landscape was a network of lakes and pools.

‘Did we do that?’ said Conina.

‘It would be nice to think so, wouldn’t it?’ said Nijel.

‘Yes, but did-’ she began.

‘Probably not. Who knows? Let’s just find a horse,’ he said.

‘The Apogee,’ said War, ‘or something. I’m pretty sure.’

They had staggered out of the inn and were sitting on a bench in the afternoon sunshine. Even War had been persuaded to take off some of his armour.

‘Dunno,’ said Famine, ‘Don’t think so.’

Pestilence shut his crusted eyes and leaned back against the warm stones.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘it was something about the end of the world.’

War sat and thoughtfully scratched his chin. He hiccuped.

‘What, the whole world?’ he said.

‘I reckon.’

War gave this some further consideration. ‘I reckon we’re well out of it, then,’ he said.

People were returning to Ankh-Morpork, which was no longer a city of empty marble but was once again its old self, sprawling as randomly and colourfully as a pool of vomit outside the all-night takeaway of History.

And the University had been rebuilt, or had rebuilt itself, or in some strange way had never been unbuilt; every strand of ivy, every rotting casement, was back in place. The sourcerer had offered to replace everything as good as new, all wood sparkling, all stone unstained, but the Librarian had been very firm on the subject. He wanted everything replaced as good as old.

The wizards came creeping back with the dawn, in ones or twos, scuttling for their old rooms, trying to avoid one another’s gaze, trying to remember a recent past that was already becoming unreal and dream-like.

Conina and Nijel arrived around breakfast time and, out of kindness, found a livery stable for War’s horse.[25] It was Conina who insisted that they look for Rincewind at the University, and who, therefore, first saw the books.

They were flying out of the Tower of Art, spiralling around the University buildings and swooping through the door of the reincarnated Library. One or two of the more impudent grimoires were chasing sparrows, or hovering hawk-like over the quad.

The Librarian was leaning against the doorway, watching his charges with a benevolent eye. He waggled his eyebrows at Conina, the nearest he ever got to a conventional greeting.

‘Is Rincewind here?’ she said.

‘Oook.’

‘Sorry?’

The ape didn’t answer but took them both by the hand and, walking between them like a sack between two poles, led them across the cobbles to the tower.

There were a few candles alight inside, and they saw Coin seated on a stool. The Librarian bowed them into his presence like an ancient retainer in the oldest family of all, and withdrew.

Coin nodded at them. ‘He knows when people don’t understand him,’ he said. ‘Remarkable, isn’t he?’

‘Who are you?’ said Conina.

‘Coin,’ said Coin.

Are you a student here?’

‘I’m learning quite a lot, I think.’

Nijel was wandering around the walls, giving them the occasional prod. There had to be some good reason why they didn’t fall down, but if there was it didn’t lie in the realms of civil engineering.

‘Are you looking for Rincewind?’ said Coin.

Conina frowned. ‘How did you guess that?’

‘He told me some people would come looking for him.’

Conina relaxed. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘we’ve had a bit of a trying time. I thought perhaps it was magic, or something. He’s all right, isn’t he? I mean, what’s been happening? Did he fight the sourcerer?’

‘Oh, yes. And he won. It was very … interesting. I saw it all. But then he had to go,’ said Coin, as though reciting.

‘What, just like that?’ said Nijel.

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Conina. She was beginning to crouch, her knuckles whitening.

‘It is true,’ said Coin. ‘Everything I say is true. It has to be.’

‘I want to-’ Conina began, and Coin stood up, extended a hand and said, ‘Stop.’

She froze. Nijel stiffened in mid-frown.

‘You will leave,’ said Coin, in a pleasant, level voice, ‘and you will ask no more questions. You will be totally satisfied. You have all your answers. You will live happily ever after. You will forget hearing these words. You will go now.’

They turned slowly and woodenly, like puppets, and trooped to the door. The Librarian opened it for them, ushered them through and shut it behind them.

Then he stared at Coin, who sagged back on to the stool.

‘All right, all right,’ said the boy, ‘but it was only a little magic. I had to. You said yourself people had to forget.’

‘Oook?’

‘I can’t help it! It’s too easy to change things!’ He clutched his head. ‘I’ve only got to think of something! I can’t stay, everything I touch goes wrong, it’s like trying to sleep on a heap of eggs! This world is too thin! Please tell me what to do!’

The Librarian spun around on his bottom a few times, a sure sign of deep thought.

Exactly what he said is not recorded, but Coin smiled, nodded, shook the Librarian’s hand, and opened his own hands and drew them up and around him and stepped into another world. It had a lake in, and some distant mountains, and a few pheasants watching him suspiciously from under the trees. It was the magic all sourcerers learned, eventually.

Sourcerers never become part of the world. They merely wear it for a while.

He looked back, halfway across the turf, and waved at the Librarian. The ape gave him an encouraging nod.

And then the bubble shrank inside itself, and the last sourcerer vanished from this world and into a world of his own.