#‘‘twas an absolute blast and a half

[b0wieblue]

Did I travel by boat for 3 hours, then drive for another 2 hours, then stay a few days away from home just to get a Megatron tattoo? Why yes, yes I did :]

#AND IT WAS WORTH EVERY BIT OF ANXIETY THAT COMES WITH NAVIGATING NEW PLACES LETS GOOOO #my artist and I geeked out about tf the whole time and listened to 80s tunes #‘‘twas an absolute blast and a half #like help I forgot how bad the aftermath of tattoos are like getting it is fine but oh dear god #it’s the following time that is absolutely brutal and a bit of a sensory hell lmao #i just got back but oh my god what a fun romp it was #anyways yeah I now have my special interests on either of my arms #like yes please ask me about my shark and Megatron tattoos so I can infodump #bowiespeaks

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

So binge read odnlb and

First of all how dare you make me more invested in your Kagami and Felix dynamic than any other ship??? How could you do this to me?? I have been ruined as a shipper. RUINED. I will never, ever be able to get over your Felix and Kagami in this fic and how wonderfully they interact with all their bluffs and pride and calculations and CONSTRAINED FEELINNNGSS I - this is it for me. I’m done. I’m gone.

You wanna know how I’ve been ruined?? You wanna k n o w ? I will never be able to ship either of them with anyone else now. It feels wrong. It feels like a betrayal after seeing how HEART ACHINGLY BEAUTIFULLY they could click and the amazing angst they could work and

And you know this really small thing which hurt me so much is that whole thing you pulled where she has never had trouble differentiating the two because FELIX HAS A HARDNESS AND SHARPNESS THAT MAKES HIM HIS OWN PERSON like not because she recognised Adrien easily! oh no! twas not her ex she recognised easily, no no noooooo, it was because she recognised FELIX easily, FELIX, like it’s almost as if her own hard edges recognise the soulmate in his sharp edges okay that brOKE ME IN TWO like why why whyyyy would you do this to my innocent shipper heart, how could you make me more invested in Kagami and Felix than the actual lovesqUARE?!

Like but at the same time I shouldn’t blame you because I love both characters a lot individually -I love their complexities, how Kagami is Good with a little ruthless in her and Felix is Ruthless with a little good in him- I just never opened my eyes to how well their opposite symmetry two sides of the same coin mirror opposite chess masters dynamic works as a ship until you wrOTE MY SHIPPER’S RUINATION LIKE DAMN HOW CAN I COME BACK FROM THIS?!

I mean yes of course I still care about Marinette and Adrien but I know I’ll enjoy them in this fic and on top of that they’ll always have canon and other fics too, whereas I will never be able to enjoy your Kagami and Felix outside your writing because the ml writers don’t have half the brilliant characterisation or good taste in ships and other fanfic writers just cannot pull this dynamic off okay, like

Like I genuinely don’t think anybody else can pull off this characterisation of how Kagami and Felix are in a way two sides of the same coin - they are both fully on the side of (their own idea of) Justice and they will be a little cruel if they need to be to do so, but at the same time they are both so dedicated to protecting the people they love - and this is the most interesting bit because I feel like what you’re implying is that if it’s for the people they love then Felix and Kagami actually both have the potential to become a bit of a hypocrite against their values (I mean Felix I think it’s almost outright confirmed he has/does this rn with him working for Monarque but I’m intrigued how far he will go), like not compromising on the bottom line, I think neither of them will ever compromise on what they think is Absolute Injustice, but they may compromise enough to bend their morals just a bit, so long as they don’t Cross That Line (for Kagami I wonder if she will ever even get near that line while for Felix I wonder if he’d be willing to move the line signpost by an inch or two)

While we are on the subject how dare you imply Felix has kept her at an arm’s length this whole time because he’s insecure about being a senti and now you’re going to have her take his ring, and he won’t just be hurt or betrayed (as you’ve hinted he kinda already expects the betrayal bc he knows where Kagami’s values stand) he will be humiliated just like Adrien neevr wanted LB to look at him like that (and LB doesn’t even KNOW-know), for Felix to have his deepest darkest secret blasted on full volume to the ONE PERSON he never wanted to find out, and for her look at him as if he was LESS of a human even if it was just for a moment, even if it is just in that second of the initial shock - I- I need a minute

No I’m genuinely tortured by this, I keep thinking of all the potentials of how that scene would go like just imagining- like how do amoks work? does Kagami realise whose amok it is the minute she touches it? I feel like Luka’s suspicion of her mean her betraying LB on a small-medium degree is inevitable, so this could be her moral bending point, her freaking out and deciding to keep Felix’s secret and taking a ring lookalike to LB instead which isn’t an amok and is just waved off as a sentimental ring of his mother’s.

(even better if Felix doesn’t know know that She Knows and continues with his farce none the wiser so Kagami has the time to adjust to the revelation and my boy is spared some PAIN)

And Kagami can rationalise it against her sense of justice because forcing someone to divulge information against their will is just evil, really, and she can’t let LB do that as she knows she inevitably will and it doesn’t hurt their cause for her not to know Felix is a senti so why not keep that on the downlow? Though I imagine it must absolutely backfire/blow up in her face later

(Also Luka would have no right to judge Kagami for keeping secrets to protect the ones she loves considering but I feel like he still totally would 😂 that would be funny if he called her out later and someone was like Uhhh pot meet kettle?)

BUT THEN there is the alternative where you don’t figure out whose amok it is when you touch it and I’m like does Kagami hand the ring to LB first without realising first and they all find out only when LB commands “Adrien” to come to their location?

Ngl part of me wants to see Kagami wounded by her own betrayal - like her being shocked and appalled when Felix is forced to show up instead of Adrien as they expected, seeing the humiliation and betrayal on his face, and LB obviously doesn’t care bc Felix isn’t Adrien, LB doesn’t think there’s any good in him, so she’s not gonna show mercy because this is her CHANCE to find out the truth, everything about their identities and hideout has all just fallen into her lap, she’s totally ready to force Felix to bend to her will and interrogate the pants off him, and HONESTLY I would metaphorically DIE if at that point Kagami just snaps ‘no’.

Like silk over steel low-key feral protective Kagami saying no you are not about to take away his free will I don’t care if it’s for the greater good or not, no okay, N - O, squaring off against feral vengeful LB who may just lose it and actually Hurt Her because she is so close, SO CLOSE, to finding out the name of the man she has to murder for her kitty and the girl she thought was her ally just cares about her villainous boyfriend. bug vs dragon almost fight over peacock’s ring? 😬

Lol also it would be funny if we had indignant Luka in the background like I TOLD U NOT TO TRUST HER (pot, kettle) and I can just imagine Felix dryly saying to Kagami ‘it’s a bit rich of you to try and stop her now when you’re the one who gave the ring to her in the first place’ (I’m so convinced sarcasm would be his coping mechanism 😭)

Like see this is the interesting thing about Felix and Kagami that we don’t have with the lovesquare, it’s seeing how they interact within the context of their clashing morals, bc LB and CN are usually morally aligned in that they agree on what is Right, but Kagami and Felix aren’t like that, they Really Do Not Agree on what’s Right so it’s interesting if/how far one or both will compromise for the other, and how that will affect their relationship with each other and others

But like I don’t even know if either of the two scenarios above are even close to the mark bc there are clearly so many layers to each of their characterisations and idk if I’m even interpreting half of it right, like but the beautiful thing us I could be totally wrong and still love them because you can tell you’ve put so much thought into their interactions and motivations

and I’m so sad about this like I’m so in love with a ship that’s doomed to exist only in this fic, do you know how tragic it is to be addicted to a drug with only ONE supplier for a limited period of time???? I guess I can kinda think of it as like shipping a movie ship but I still cannot get over this personal tragedy okay don’t judge me

To sum up I am more invested in this fic’s feligami than s5’s lovesquare at this point and honestly I feel victimised ;-;

YESSSS I GOT ANOTHER ONE!!! beloved anon, welcome to the feligami circus <3

the idea of feligami was born when i saw this in s4 "Gabriel Agreste." me and my sister thought it was hilarious how they glared at each other once, then ignored each other the rest of the time. idk if i've said this, but it's actually at my sister's request (plus my own wish fulfillment) i wrote feligami into one does not love breathing. (i tried to put them into my other fic What Makes a Monster last year, but had no room D: )

you really said what i love about my felix and kagami best. i'm just. in AWE. not only do you understand how i have them diametrically opposed as players in monarque & ladybug's game, but you also understand how they function as characters!! i don't even think i could have stated it better, really, which is why i was grinning like an idiot while reading your ask.

taking what you said about "it’s almost as if [kagami's] own hard edges recognise the soulmate in his sharp edges" & "FELIX HAS A HARDNESS AND SHARPNESS THAT MAKES HIM HIS OWN PERSON like not because she recognised Adrien easily!" -- THIS WAS IMPORTANT I'M RLY GLAD IT GOT TO YOU! something felix uses to his advantage is his identical appearance to adrien. take that away from him with kagami, and what does he really have left? this "levels the playing field" between them, so to say, and i think that was what initially drew him to kagami. that she could tell felix was felix not by recognizing adrien, but by seeing him for who he really is <3

"Kagami is Good with a little ruthless in her and Felix is Ruthless with a little good in him" <- aaahh this GOT me, anon! and it's why i ship them & made them main side characters in the fic. by placing them on opposing sides yet weaving their storylines together, we get to see them bring out their true selves in each other. felix needs that; he's always being sneaky/has a trick up his sleeve, while kagami is blunt and direct and doesn't put up with bs. the more involved they get with one another, the more we see them bringing out those opposing qualities in each other; felix coming clean, and kagami sneaking around as a double agent. makes me think of this line of analysis: "I think neither of them will ever compromise on what they think is Absolute Injustice, but they may compromise enough to bend their morals just a bit, so long as they don’t Cross That Line." YES ABSOLUTELY!!!! aaahahah it's SO fun to write anon!! i'm glad you enjoy it as much as i do heheheheh.

i do dare imply. i dare all the implications. you guys are getting pretty good at guessing what my plans are, i must say. i've even taken some of your theories/guesses/hypotheses and pasted them in my notes doc so i can pack more of a punch when the time comes :DD HOWEVER you will never get me to admit to anything! NEVER! but i can promise that it will hurt, yes. i can promise that whatever u think felix and kagami are planning, it will indeed blow up in their faces (rip to your metaphorical death, anon). and i also promise this fic gets softer. i swear. that goes for feligami as well ;))

i'm sorry for your struggles. thank you for loving my feligami as much as i do. we can be in the post odblb feligami desert together (until i write them into another fic, or find another BETTER one).

thank you for this essay anon it made my day <33 there's nothing i like better than reading analyses on my own work before it's even done. and also thank you for binge reading odnlb! i hope you're ok bc most people seem to not be & i'm really getting worried for you guys.

#felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #kagami tsurugi #feligami #argos #ryuko #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #odnlb #one does not love breathing #odnlb discussion #odnlb theories #odnlb analysis

[thestarwrites]

All Right, All Might: Ch.13

PART TWO of the UA sports Festival arc! After going toe to toe with TOEdoroki, what will happen to young Izuku? I mean we already all know whats going to happen -- but lets find out what happens between the lines...

Word Count: 5,173 Rating: PG

———————— CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE UA SPORTS FESTIVAL! Part 2

The two teachers sat side by side, Toshinori had one hand on his arm rest - white knuckling it - and his other hand was laced with Keri’s. She absentmindedly ran her thumb over his calloused skin, sending calming waves into his body, trying to keep him from passing out. 

Toshinori grit his teeth, “He’s using One for All at 100 percent each time - he’s sacrificing his fingers to keep up with Todoroki.”

Nodding Keri sighed, “He knows what he’s doing. It’s reckless, but it will pay off, whether he wins the match or not.” 

“What do you mean or not?” He shot a look to her. 

Keri sighed, “Enji has been training that boy since he could walk. You really think Izuku will stand much of a chance? I’m just being logical honey.” 

The blonde nodded and grunted, looking back out on the field. 

“That kid is already better than your average pro!” Someone in the stadium called out. 

It was met with the answer, “Well, what do you expect from the son of the number two hero?” 

Toshinori grabbed the railing, standing up, “He can’t keep doing this. He is barely affected by his full armed smash - come on Midoriya, just give up.” He mumbled. 

Keri stood and walked beside him, “And you think the person you picked is going to give up so easily? Would you?”

He looked down and sighed, “This isn’t a villain attack, Ree…” 

“No its not, but you did tell him to tell the world he’s here,” she looked to him, “I’m not saying this is your fault or anything, I’m just saying. This kid wants to prove to himself that he’s worthy of your power.” 

Sighing he kept looking at the arena as Shoto taunted his pupil, shooting another large-scale ice column toward the other boy. 

“TODOROKI USES ANOTHER POWERFUL ICE BLAST!! WILL THIS BE THE FINISHING MOVE!?” Mic screamed out. 

Just then - the ice shattered. 

“What!? No!” Keri hissed softly, “For the love of God.”

The crowd could tell Izuku was speaking to his opponent, but it twas mostly inaudible until, “You think you can beat me using half your strength!?” The boy clenched his fist, “COME AT ME WITH ALL YOU’VE GOT!” 

The close quarter combat began, and although Izuku was significantly hurt, Todoroki’s spirit was staring to falter. Patho knew that the outcome of this fight could change the game when it came to Shoto’s therapy from here on out. She just didn’t want it to come with such a high cost for Izuku, “DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Toshinori interrupted her thoughts. 

“A SOLID HIT BY YOUNG MIDORIYA!” 

“The kid hit Todoroki!” Someone shouted in the crowd. 

Looking across the stadium, Keri laid eyes on Enji. He was staring intently down at the ring. She didn’t even need her quirk to know that he must be absolutely furious. 

All Might clenched his fists as suddenly Cementos’ slow and even voice called out, “Midnight. Do you want me to step in? Midoriya knows Recovery Girl will heal his injuries after the match - he’s full of adrenaline right now, but those injuries are serious. He probably wouldn’t even be able to fight in his next match, even if she can heal him in one go. He’s sacrificing himself. At this rate, he might end up with permanent damage.” 

Keri’s hand flew to her boyfriend’s, her hand was trembling, “Cementos — Do something!” She called to him.

“I WANT TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO BE A HERO! AND I’LL GIVE IT MY ALL. JUST LIKE YOU SHOULD BE!” Izuku screamed to Todoroki after landing a head-butt to the boys torso, “There’s no way I can know what you’ve gone through. Or why you’re even here. Your life has been so much different than mine. But right now? STOP SCREWING AROUND. If you want to reject your father, fine. But you don’t have any right to be number one IF YOU WON’T USE YOUR FULL POWER!” He ran forward, charging up for another hit, “THATS WHY I’LL WIN THIS! THAT’S WHY I’LL SURPASS YOU!” 

The young duo-haired boy mumbled something. 

“ITS YOURS! NOT HIS! ITS YOUR QUIRK!” 

Keri squeezed Toshinori’s hand — and then a tornado of fire erupted from the boy in the ring, “Toshi!” 

“IS THAT!?” Mic screamed. 

“YEEEEESSSSS SHOTO!” The booming voice of Enji Todoroki came from the stands as he descended toward the stadium, “HAVE YOU FINALLY ACCEPTED YOUR PURPOSE!? VERY GOOD! THIS IS THE DAWN OF A NEW ERA FOR US! WITH MY BLOOD IN YOUR VEINS YOU WILL SURPASS ME, AND LIVE UP TO THE REASON I CREATED YOU!” 

“What a piece of trash - just wait until I get down there I’ll — ah!” 

Toshinori grabbed onto her waist as she tried to leave the teachers box, “Stop, Keri. You can’t take on Endeavor, and he is making enough of an ass of himself on his own. His power level isn’t the only reason he’s number 2. His popularity stinks.” 

“WELL - IT SEEMS LIKE ENDEAVOR CAME DOWN TO OFFER WORDS OF….. ENCOURAGEMENT? WHAT A DOTING FATHER…” 

 The display in front of everyone was mind-blowing to say the least. Not only was Izuku jumping and dodging with a speed and agility someone with his injuries shouldn’t sustain - but Shoto’s power was spectacular. He was a monstrosity of fire and ice, and it was beautiful and terrifying. 

“THATS IT MIDNIGHT!” Cementos shouted as he activated his quirk, “ONE OF THEM COULD BE KILLED!” 

As the two teens flew at one another with intent to be the best, several pillars of cement flew up between them - stopping them from hitting one another. Chaos ensued as the attacks blasted the cement to pieces, sending chunks of it flying with the sheer wind force they created. All Might pulled Keri into his side, using his lanky arm to shield her head from any debris, “Head down, sunflower!” He shouted. 

She clutched his suit jacket, making a soft noise of shock. 

 “WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED RIGHT NOW? WHAT IS UP WITH THESE STUDENTS?!” 

“The fire rapidly heated the cement around the ring, and then it rapidly cooled,” Aizawa commented dully over the intercom. 

“WAIT, THATS WHAT CAUSED THE EXPLOSION!? HOW HOT DID THAT FIRE GET!? I CANT EVEN SEE WHATS GOING ON DOWN THERE! IS THE MATCH EVEN STILL GOING?” 

The smoke started to clear, Keri pulled her face out of All Might’s chest long enough to blink out the form of Izuku, “Toshi — He’s hurt!” She choked out a gasp. 

“THATS IT — MIDORIYA IS OUT OF BOUNDS!” Midnight announced, “TODOROKI WINS! HE ADVANCES TO THE THIRD ROUND!” 

The crowd went wild with fanfare. 

She grabbed Toshinori’s hand and pulled him, “We’re going down there. NOW.” 

He nodded and held her hand in return, running with her down the steps toward Recovery Girl’s temporary office. Midoriya was on his way there on a stretcher, unconscious.

 ----------

“The bones in your right arm are shattered, I’m afraid it will never be the same going forward. I need to remove some bone fragments or they will get stuck in your joints. Then I can heal you afterward,” Recovery Girl shot a look to Toshinori and Keri, looking down with a sigh before she spoke again, “Toshinori, you lit a fire under this child and pushed him too hard. Look at what he’s done to make you proud. I don’t like it one bit. You’re going too far. You AND the boy. Don’t praise him for what he’s done today,” she pointed. 

“Chiyo,” Keri started before Ochaco and Tenya burst into the room.

“DEKU!” 

“Midoriya!!” 

All Might coughed and lurched forward before the kids noticed him, “You scared the crap out of me…” 

“Oh - hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Ururaka smiled a little at the lithe form of the man she did not recognize as the number one hero. 

Recovery Girl interrupted, “He is in no shape for visitors.”

“Hey guys… shouldn’t you be watching the matches?” 

“The ring was far too damaged. They’re taking a short break.” 

“That was the scariest thing I have ever seen,” Mineta commented as he walked in, “What hero is going to want a sidekick that hurts himself to win?” 

Keri spun on her heels, “Minoru!” 

Tsuyu hit him with her tongue, “Okay - now you’re just rubbing salt in his wounds. I don’t think now is the time.” 

“I’m just telling the truth!” 

Patho stood, "Minoru you and I will have a TALK about this when school is back in session."

“YOU ARE ALL MUCH TOO NOISY,” Recovery Girl said firmly as she approached the students, “I know you are all worried. But I’ve got to focus on surgery right now.” 

“SURGERY!?” The kids all called out at once. Slowly leaving as Recovery girl showed them out.

 Keri turned back to the boy and set her hand on his forehead gently, stroking his hair back as her body began to glow. She had to try and ease his mind and his pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Izuku groaned, “I couldn’t do what you asked of me… If I shut up, not said anything, I could have beaten him…” The boy’s eyes began to water as he looked up at his idol in shame. 

Keri’s eyes filled with tears as well as she kept sending calm energy into the boy, she looked up to All Might, seeing a very different side of the affect heroes can have on the kids they inspire. 

All Might turned back to him, “You made Todoroki realize something very important about himself today.” 

“I guess so… in his first match… he looked so sad. I was trying to figure out why, when I should have been focused. I made a huge mistake though. In our match I just was so frustrated - I couldn’t see the big picture, or what it would take to win — I’m s- sorry.” 

“Its true that the match didn’t go how we wanted it to, and realizing where you went wrong wont change that. But listen, meddling when you shouldn’t have to is the essence of being a hero.” 

Chiyo sighed and went to prepare the things for Izuku’s surgery, “You two need to wait outside. I have to get this done fast so he can get up and be able to walk. Out.”

Toshinori flashed a thumbs up at Deku and moved away, “I’ll be right here when she’s done, okay?” 

Keri sighed and kissed his forehead, “We both will be.”

  In the deserted hallway, with the echoing sound of Mic from the booth, Toshinori slid down against the wall and buried his face in his knees as he pulled them to his chest, “I did it again, I failed him again.” 

“Toshi,” she sighed and knelt beside him, facing him, “Come on now, don’t sulk.” 

The older man looked up at her, tears running down his cheeks, “I’m a terrible hero.” 

Rolling her eyes she pushed his bangs from his face and tucked them behind his ear, “You are not a terrible hero. You might be not that great of a teacher, but you are one hell of a hero. You need to be able to work with him one on one. You’re spending too much time out in the field still. That's why most of the faculty here don’t work that much as heroes, unless specifically needed.” 

“I’ve never been good at teaching - my master wasn’t either.” 

“Gran Torino?” She blinked. 

He shook his head, “No… Nana Shimura.” 

Her eyes widened, “Nana Shimura was your mentor?” She gasped, “Does that mean?” 

Nodding his head he tried to wipe his tears away, “She was the seventh holder of One for All. She passed it onto me when I was a quirkless teenager, like Izuku. But she wasn’t that good at teaching either, so she asked Gran Torino to help her… and then she died…” 

“Oh Toshi… I’m so sorry…” 

“No one knows this part of the story, Keri… they aren’t supposed to. Honestly, I shouldn’t have told you about One for All in the first place… I just… when I look at you I can’t help but want to tell you everything.” 

Sighing she nodded and gently wiped his cheeks, “How did she die?” 

“She was killed…” He took a deep breath, “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you about my power… since you already know about it.”

She sat beside him and took his hand in hers, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say. 

“Once, long ago, two brothers were born - one quirkless, one with a quirk dubbed All for One. All for One could steal quirks from people to use for himself, or give them to others. The man can also stockpile quirks, he has so many of them - and no one knows what they are. His little brother thought it was horrific, so All for One gave his seemingly quirkless brother a quirk. Power Stockpiling - However, unbeknownst to either one of them, the younger brother already had a Quirk with no other power than that it could be transferred to another person. The transference Quirk and the power stockpiling Quirk merged into one and from then on became One For All,” he took a deep breath, “The younger brother somehow discovered this. He had a strong sense of justice and he tried to defeat All For One, but given the huge difference in their strength, he failed. The younger brother decided to entrust the Quirk to future generations of Heroes, hoping that they would cultivate One For All and one day put a stop to All For One.” 

“Toshi…” she whispered softly. 

“All for One, has lived all of these years trying to take over the underworld and then make himself lord over our society, he has also been trying to steal One for All as soon as he learned about it, but he has failed every time,” his eyes welled with tears, “He found me when I was eighteen. Nana threw herself into the way, pushing me aside and into Gran Torino’s arms so I could be taken to safety… as she sacrificed herself… for me.” 

The woman stood on her knees and hugged her arms around the tall blonde’s body as he cried. The two of them cried together there in the hallway for a few minutes before she whispered, “Is that what happened… to you… five years ago?” 

He nodded gently, “I won that fight but…” 

“But what, sweetheart?” 

“I think he’s still out there. That Nomu from the USJ attack… he had multiple quirks. He was some kind of Frankenstein’s monster. And there’s only one person capable of that to my knowledge. And he can’t get his hands on Midoriya.” 

She nodded and rubbed his back, “You need to save that issue for another day, Toshinori. I know its real bad if it’s true, but… right now you need to focus on being strong for that boy in there, and all the other kids who look to you as a mentor, and be your best for them.” 

Looking over to her, he looked into her blue eyes, her forehead glowing with pink light. He tried to memorize everything about her face as the fear crept into his heart that maybe Gran Torino was right. It was reckless to fall in love. Until he knew for sure about All for One - how could he distract himself with romance? How could he bring her knowingly into danger. He would have to talk to his mentor face to face. 

For now, he just leaned forward and kissed her, sighing as he leaned into her embrace. She stroked his hair back and when she pulled away, she gingerly used her sleeve to wipe the tears from his face, “There…” 

He gave a small smile and kissed her again, until they heard a voice clear behind them, “You can come back in now.” 

Flushing, Toshinori stood and held out his hands for his girlfriend to help her up, “Coming… sorry.” 

Following her inside the room, she walked over to Izuku, starting to dress and kiss his wounds, “There… that should be enough that you can walk - but take it easy, do you hear me?” 

“Thank you ma’am - ah…” the boy looked down at his right hand, which was scarred and a little crooked. 

Recovery girl sighed, “May your crooked right hand be a reminder for what is at stake if you use more power than your body can withstand, and just so you know. I will NOT heal injuries like this ANYMORE,” she seemed like she was finished until she turned, “You must find a new way to teach him to use his power. There must be a way that is not so destructive.” 

The three of them went to leave the nurse’s office when she called out, “Patho, would you stay behind a moment?” 

She shot a look to Toshi and a small smile as she turned back, “Of course.”

  Once the boys were on their way back to the festival, Chiyo sighed, “Keri… this can’t go on like this. He can’t be so flippant in teaching that boy.” 

She steeled herself, “He knows, Chiyo.” 

“Its not enough for him to know!” She huffed, “He needs to DO something about it!” 

“And what am I supposed to do?” Keri threw her hands up, “I’m not his keeper. Dating someone for two weeks doesn’t make me some kind of All Might whisperer.” 

“Oh please, you have had him tied around your finger since he met you, don’t you understand that? He looks to you. I know you have been hands off with Izuku because you’re trying to let Toshinori handle it, but he’s not handling it. The poor man didn’t even have any parents.” 

“What…?” She knit her brows together. 

Chiyo sighed, “Toshinori didn’t have any parents growing up. And he was quirkless. I’ve seen his medical records. He used to get bullied by kids with quirks and they’d hurt him so bad he’d end up in the hospital. He’s never been married, he’s had no one to really look after him since he returned from America all those years ago. Until now.” 

“So what do you want me to do? Be his pseudo mom?” She scoffed.

“Oh knock it off, Keri,” she scolded, “You need to help him with Izuku. Help him figure it out, help him put the pieces together. Help Izuku with more counseling, they both have the world on their shoulders.” 

“And you want me to be Atlas.” 

The older woman took a deep breath, “You’re the only one strong enough to be, I think.” 

Keri nodded, “I understand… and I’m sorry for all the trouble this is causing you.” 

She nodded, “Everything will be alright in time, I know that to be true, but right now… he needs to focus. Both of them do. And so do you.” 

“I understand…” 

“Off with you now…” she sighed, “I need to clean up in here before someone else needs some first aid.” 

“I’ll see you later, Chiyo.” 

“I honestly hope you don’t,” she looked up and smiled a little. 

Keri smiled back and headed out toward the stands as well.

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

“AND NOW THE FINAL MATCHUP - SHOTO TODOROKI AND KATSUKI BAKUGO!  THIS IS GOING TO BE LEGENDARY GUYS!”

“And the crowd goes wild, right?” Keri smiled as she walked up behind All Might.

Turning with a surprise he smiled a little, “Hey - everything alright?” 

She nodded, “Chiyo needed to scold me for not being a better help for you and Izuku.” 

“What?! That’s absurd - you're not responsible for my failings.” 

“No, but… I do need to be more involved for you, she’s right. I’ve been letting counseling with Izuku fall to the wayside because I have been letting you handle it. But I need to change that… Tenya?” 

“Huh?” All Might turned and saw what Keri had seen, Tenya Ida running down the hall to the locker rooms, “Whats that about?”

“I’ll go find out.” 

“I’ll come with you.” 

“No,” she put her hands up, “No, you have important All Might stuff to do for the end of the festival. This is a guidance counselor situation, I can feel it.” 

“You’re going to be back… to watch me do All Might stuff… right?” 

She smiled, “Of course,” with that she turned and started to jog after where Ida had gone.

 Turning into the locker room she knocked, “Tenya! Are you in there? Is everything alright?” 

The tall young man came out, dressed in his normal clothes, “Miss Chairo…” he looked like he was crying, “I have to go. It’s a family emergency.” 

“Oh no, Tenya what’s happened.” 

“A… a villain, got my older brother. He’s in the hospital.” 

The woman put her hand on his arm, “Oh Tenya, I’m so sorry. Tensei is such a nice man… do you know anything?” 

He shook his head, “My mom just called… they want me to come home right away, he’s in the hospital in emergency surgery now. That villain is going to pay…” 

She knit her brows together, “Now, Tenya, you listen to me. You are to stick to the rules, and you are to leave this to the professionals,” taking out a small notepad from her pocket she scrawled down her cell phone, “This is my cellphone number. Anything you need, you just call me, okay?” 

He nodded, steeling himself as he took it, “Thank you Miss Chairo.” 

She nodded, “I’ll go tell Midnight you had to leave.” 

“Thank you again…” 

“And I mean it, Tenya. You call me. For anything.” 

He nodded and turned, picking up his bag as he made his way out of the stadium.

The woman ran as fast as she could down onto the field, pulling at Nemuri’s arm as Todoroki and Bakugo fought one another, “Patho?” 

“Nemuri- we need to talk.” 

“Whats up?” She turned briefly. 

“Ingenium has been attacked by a villain. He’s in critical condition in the hospital, Tenya has been called home to be with his family, he had to leave immediately.” 

Nodding she put her hand on Patho’s shoulder, “Understood, thank you, Keri.” 

Turning her head - she saw him walk in - All Might, in all his glory. She smiled a little at him as she stood there with Midnight. He grinned brightly and winked at her, “I see you made it in time, Patho.” 

Sighing she smiled, “I wouldn’t miss a chance to see All Might in a million years.” 

“HOWITZER…. IMPACT!!!!!” Bakugo’s blast vibrated the whole stadium and the explosion caused many to shield their eyes. 

“WOW! BAKUGO COMBINED SPEED AND POWER TO TURN HIMSELF INTO A HUMAN MISSILE! BUT WE DIDN’T SEE TODOROKI FIRE UP THAT AWESOME POWER WE SAW IN HIS FIGHT AGAINST MIDORIYA - SO WHAT HAS BECOME OF OUR TWO TOP COMPETITORS?!” 

“Oh god…” Keri cupped her mouth as the dust cleared, and she saw Shoto unconscious in the pile of his own ice. Whatever strength he had gotten before to use his full potential, he’d backtracked. She knew this would be bad for Katsuki. 

“What!? You decided not to use your fire!? NO!” The ash blonde limped to where Shoto lay passed out, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. 

“Young Bakugo…” All Might whispered. 

“HEY! YOU! STOP MESSING AROUND! THIS ISN’T A REAL WIN FOR ME IF YOU DON’T TRY HARDER! YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME! GET UP!” 

Midnight lifted her sleeve, releasing the pheromones that lay underneath. Katsuki soon slumped to the floor. Keri went to run to him - but All Might held her back once again.

“Todoroki is out of bounds, that means BAKUGO IS THE WINNER!” 

“AAAAAND WITH THAT THE FINAL MATCH IS OFFICIALLY OVER! THE FIRST YEAR CHAMPION OF THE UA SPORTS CHAMPION IS KATSUKI BAKUGO OF CLASS 1-A!!!” 

 ---------

“NO! Absolutely not! This is despicable!” The guidance counselor shrieked at Nezu and Cementos as they secured the muzzle to Bakugo’s face. The boy was chained like a criminal as he screamed in vain and wrestled with his bindings, “YOU LET HIM OUT OF THIS NOW!” 

“Miss Chairo. Katsuki is out of control and he refuses to calm down.” 

“THIS,” she motioned, “Is not the way to handle it! He is upset! If you would only give me a few more minutes with him!” 

“NO. Miss Chairo. Do not make me say it again. You are dismissed.” 

Her mouth hung dumbfounded as she shot at look to Katsuki, he was staring at her with such intensity, almost pleading for her help. She grunted, “This is not the last time we will have a talk about this, SIR,” she practically spat and walked back into the stands, fuming. 

 “Keri- please, you need to calm down,” All Might tried to reason with her.

“THEY MUZZLED HIM LIKE A DOG! DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! THIS IS AN ETHICAL VIOLATION! AND YOU’RE GOING TO GO ALONG WITH IT!?” 

All Might frowned and leaned in, pulling her close by her arm in his large form, “Please sweetheart— please, for me, for the kids… please calm down.”

She grunted, “I’m not going to take this laying down.” 

He smiled and kissed her softly, “I know you’re not baby, that’s why you’re the best person for this job. And I want you to fight it. But right now, its happening whether we want it to or not,” kissing her again - neither of them noticed the man standing in the hallway - a camera protruding from his chest as he took a candid shot of the two heroes sharing a gentle kiss. 

Waving the Polaroid he smirked, walking away.

All Might sighed and smiled, “Time to be,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Mister number one.” 

Keri ended up smiling a little at that, hitting his broad chest, “Knock em dead, sweetheart.” 

He smirked and ran off to where his mark was.

  “THE FIRST YEAR STUDENTS HAVE COMPLETED ALL OF THE EVENTS OF THE UA SPORTS FESTIVAL, NOW ITS TIME TO RELAX AND ENJOY THE AWARDS CEREMONY!” 

The platform raised and Bakugo was screaming. Keri steeled herself. He looked like a wild animal in a cage.

“Tenya Ida actually shares then third place spot with Tokoyami. Unfortunately he had to leave for family reasons - gotta love those familial bonds,” Midnight explained to the paparazzi, “AND NOW, its time for the hardware… and the only person worthy to hand out the awards is…"

The podium began to raise from the highest part of the rafters, “HA HA HA HA!!!” All Might called out, his theme song blaring on the intercom, “CITIZEN’S I AM HERE! FOR THE—“ 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN A BONIFIDE HERO!” She accidentally cut him off as he landed dramatically in the stadium, “I… ruined that didn’t I.” 

Keri put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. 

“WELL ALL MIGHT! Now that you’re here! Why don’t you start the presentation!” 

 Walking over to Tokoyami, he picked up one of the two bronze medals, “HA HA, YOUNG TOKOYAMI, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU SHOWED GREAT STRENGTH OUT THERE.”

“Your words humble me, sir.” 

“However!” The man moved in to hug the young teen, "You have to do more training if you’re going to face different kinds of villains. You’re not going to be able to rely on your quirk with every villain you face.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“YOUNG TODOROKI. Congratulations. I’m assuming there is a reason you didn’t use your left side. Though it cost you the final.” 

“Midoriya opened my eyes during out match, but then I started doubting myself in the end. I think I understand a little about why you’re so interested in him… I want to be the kind of hero you are, but my path isnt as clear as I thought it was. I have a lot of things to think about. And I have to take care of some things with someone, very soon.” 

“I’ve never seen this look on your face before,” All Might moved to hug Todoroki as well, “I wont ask for details, but trust yourself. I’m sure you’ll work things out.” 

“Right.” He sighed.

Keri smiled a little and sighed as he walked up to Bakugo. 

“YOUNG BAKUGO - well… this is a little much,” he said as he went to remove the muzzle. Keri smiled, grateful that in a small way he was honoring her wishes, “Well, you did what you said you would do in the pledge. You’re true to your word.”

“ALL MIGHT…” His low voice was like venom, “Winning first place like this… I WON’T ACCEPT IT!!! EVEN IF EVERYONE CONSIDERS ME THE WINNER!” 

“In a world where we’re constantly being compared to one another, there are very few who can keep their eyes focused on the top spot.  You’re one of those people,” he paused and Bakugo remained seething, “Please accept this medal. Even if you think of it as a scar. Something you’ll never forget.” 

“I DON’T WANT THAT PIECE OF GARBAGE!” 

“Come on now…” 

“GET THAT TRASH OFF OF ME!!!!!” 

He ended up with it in his mouth.

“HERE THEY ARE! THE WINNERS OF THIS YEARS SPORTS FESTIVAL! BUT LISTEN CLOSELY, ANY OF YOU FIRST YEARS COULD HAVE ENDED UP ON THIS PODIUM. THINK ABOUT TODAY, YOU’VE CHALLENGED EACH OTHER, LEARNED, AND CLIMBED THAT MUCH FURTHER TO BECOMING PROS! I THINK THE NEXT GENERATION OF HEROES IS GOING TO BE THE BEST YET!” He punctuated it with a point of his finger to the sky. 

“SO I HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY - I WANT YOU ALL TO SAY IT WITH ME! UA…. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR HARD WORK —“ 

As the rest of the whole stadium screamed, “PLUS ULTRA — “

The booing that ensued from people screaming why didnt All Might use this perfect opportunity to use his catch phrase. The man shrank on the spot and did his best to try and apologize, as he waved and walked off the field he groaned, “That was awful.” 

 Keri ran over to him, and grabbed his arm, “Hey - thank you.” 

“For what?” He turned to look down at her.

The look she gave him was nothing short of adoration, “Taking Katsuki’s mask off.”

“Well… you were upset. And it was really a lot.” 

“You’re my hero, Toshinori Yagi,” she smiled and leaned up to kiss him softly, “Thank you so much for being so wonderful.” 

“Okay, okay… the classes will be assembling to give the announcement that the next two days are free days…” 

She nodded, “I want to take a trip to Hosu.” 

“For young Ida?” 

Keri nodded again, “Yes… you should come with me.” 

He nodded, “Okay, Sunflower.” 

She nodded again and yawned softly. 

“You know what we should do tonight?” He gave a smile and winked when she looked back at him, “We should spend the next two days hunkered down at home and doing all kinds of domestic things together.” 

Chuckling gently, “Toshinori, are you suggesting we play house?” 

He nodded and smiled brightly, “Thats exactly what I am suggesting,” She laughed gently, and after a few moments he smirked, “Well…? Whats your answer?” 

She blushed and giggled, “I accept.” 

#all right all might #all might x reader #all might x oc #my hero academia #toshinori yagi

[emotionally-imbruised]

Concept: Y/N and hungover Harry waking up the morning after the met gala

I’ve suddenly been very inspired to respond to this with a little one-shot, enjoy.

Twas the Day After Camp

The room is quiet and relatively dark. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as you rub at them tiredly, before finally being able to really take in your surroundings.

Clothes are strewn all over the place, as are the shoes you and Harry were each wearing as you stumbled back to his NYC apartment late last night after the Gucci Met Gala after-party had concluded. Half-full glasses of champagne and wine rest on the bedside table on Harry’s side; sparkling slightly in the dim glow of the sun’s rays peeking through the largely drawn curtains that cover the enormous bedroom window.

A cool breeze cause goosebumps to raise on your exposed skin — leaving you to internally curse yourself for not at least throwing on a t-shirt after the extra celebrations that occurred between you and Harry once you got home. Moments from last night play on repeat in your mind as you carefully pull the blankets up higher and lay back down onto the pillows; only to have your heart leap from your chest when you roll onto your side and are met with Harry staring back at you.

“Jesus,” you yelp in surprise while placing a hand over your chest and taking a deep breath.

“Not quite, but close.” He replies with a smirk before stretching out his body and allowing a loud groan to leave his mouth; leaving you to just roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Smartass.”

A soft chuckle leaves your boyfriend’s mouth as he shifts to sit upwards and lean back against the headboard — the white bed sheet stays resting over his toned torso as he does so, leaving his entire upper body out in the open but showing nothing further down. “Did yeh have fun last night?”

“So much fun,” you tell him honestly as you move into a similar position as him, but make sure the blanket doesn’t show off everything you’ve got. “How about you?”

“Oh, I had a blast.”

“Oh yeah? And do you remember all of it?” You question jokingly, hinting at how he had gotten a little bit tipsy at the actual event while socializing with some friends and other celebrities.

“I remember enough,” he replies while tracing his finger along the outline of your figure that’s prominent through the blanket. “Remember walking the carpet with you and Alessandro, how good you looked, greeting everyone, Cher, using the word bitch a lot… and the majority of the after-party.”

“You’re forgetting about how good you looked… and that you’ll probably get an ear infection from changing that damn earring so many times,” you pester while poking him in the shoulder with your finger. “That all you remember?”

“Oh, and I remember that spectacular blow job you gave me once we got back here.”

“Harry!” You gasp and immediately move your hands up to cover your face; hoping they’ll hide the embarrassed blush that’s burning its way across your cheeks. “God, you’re such a pest.”

His large cold hands that are not currently covered in the rings he wore last night, gently grip onto your wrists so he can move your hands away from your pretty face — wanting to get a good look at you before speaking again. “Yeah, but at least m’a pest that you love.”

“More like tolerate,” you tease before leaning forward and attaching your lips to his, not giving him the chance to respond.

He reacts, rubbing his hand up your side, all the way up your arm until he can tangle it into your hair and deepen the kiss. His tongue rubs along your bottom lip in hopes that you’ll grant him access to the rest of your mouth; and when you do, he moans in pleasure as he starts leaning you back down onto the fluffy pillows.

After a few moments of making out, he pulls back slightly and just grins down at you. He’s absolutely glowing. You know how much fun he had last night and how much of a success the entire event had been, an event that he was the co-chair of — and you’ve never been happier to see him this pleased with himself.

“I’m so proud of you, H.” You tell him with a soft smile as you move your hand up to push back some of his curls. “So, so proud.”

“Thank you m’love,” he replies before leaning down to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. Once he’s done, he pulls back and flops back onto the mattress beside you — wasting no time in pulling you into his chest and cuddling up against you.

A stream of chuckles leaves your mouth as you try to squirm away, but he just keeps pulling you back. “Harry, we can’t stay in bed, you’ve got a lot to do today.”

“Yeah but not yet,” he states and leans his head against your shoulder once you stop trying to move away. “M’quite content with just staying here with you for a little while longer.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles x reader #met gala 2019 #requests

[zwiezraczek]

Hey love!:) are you still taking requests? if so, can you do 8 &10 she/her with four?:D

Out The Window [Blurb]

8. “Why are you doing this to me?” 10. “I'd like to kiss you... Joking... Unless?”

~~~

You blew the strand of hair from before your eyes, after hiding the unconscious guy in the closet. Another day in your beautiful hitman life. Nobody saw you getting in, nobody would see you getting out. And as you entered the elevator, your phone rang. You took it from your purse, looking at the screen to know who dared interrupt your flow at the end of a mission. One, of course One.

First of all, what a stupid idea to go by code names; you knew him in the orphanage, you were way younger than him, but you became friends pretty quickly. You still looked, impressed, at his magnetic inventions, and followed the grand finale a year ago on the boat where they stopped Murat. A great masterpiece, and you were pretty angry at him for not inviting you, as he promised to. But you couldn't blame him: you refused to be Two. When he explained his fucked up story, telling you that he was dead and that you should die too to be able to work with him, you didn't hesitate for a second: it was a solid no, for obvious reasons. Dying, faking its own death wasn't fun to you, it was mire troublesome than anything else. You had to hide in the desert, with him, and his little team. It was a big no to you. But you helped him recruit Three. Because you heard about Javier many times, you even spoke with him when he was a hitman, but that was all before he killed that father almost in front of his daughter and began to withdraw from the job. So you gave One Javier's number and current location. The rest, is history.

“What do you want,” you asked after answering the phone.

“I need help Extra,” he whispered.

“What is wrong with you with these code names,” you said, after the doors of the elevator closed and you clicked on the first floor.

“No time for talking about that, I'll need you for a mission, you in?”

“Oh, now when you're a famous savior you call your old friend Extra,” you teased him, the elevator stopped, two men stepped in, looking suspiciously at you. You had to lie low. “So, what's the problem darling,” you cooed, your hand on your hip, playing it seductive.

“You're in trouble,” he asked.

“Maybe yes, maybe no, depending of what you think,” you whispered into the device, sensually as the men in front of you turned bright red. Bingo.

“Calling you later Extra, I already have two fucking in who-knows-where and I don't want to do that,” he replied, a bit disgusted.

“Love you too,” you whispered before turning off the phone. “'Twas my baby,” you said to the men in front of you, a big smile on your face, “can't wait to see him again!”

They went silent, still bright red. You had your small revenge on One, and now you needed to know what he needed you for so badly.

~~~

Great you thought, as you had to find a way out of there, running on these heels. Fuck, you continued bare foot. You had no way to communicate with One's crew, who apparently knew who you were. More or less. And the only thing you knew that there was Seven, the sniper who eliminated half the guys who were trying to kill you on your way up there, and Four, the parkour expert. You still were pretty curious to know why One decided to put this guy right here, and not Javier or Two, people who would help you inside. A mystery.

You stopped by the corner, hiding behind a curtain, sitting on the edge of the window, as you heard men running to find you. You held your breath, closing your eyes and hoping the wouldn't notice you. You could hear them talk about you, about not knowing where you were, in these dark hallways. You heard footsteps, running away. Great. You sighed, relieved and stood on the ground, opened the curtains. Shattering of glass behind you, somebodywas getting inside, almost falling on you. The dark figure stood in front of you, you began to push him towards the window, holding him by his collar, not far from letting him fall down.

“Why are you doing this to me,” the guy almost yelled looking you right in the eye, eyes glowing in the pale moonlight, “I'm Four! Don't you fucking try to kill me, Extra!”

“Next time don't scare the shit out of me,” you told him, pulling him inside, as he looked at you dusting his hoodie. “So this is your escape plan, you asked, arching an eyebrow, “not subtle.”

“Not my idea,” he defended himself.

“She's funny,” Seven said into Four's ear, chuckling a bit after this exchange. He still looked at them, the path was still clear, nobody seemed to hear the breaking glass.

“She almost killed me, mate,” he retorted, you looking at him.

“Oh, it's Seven? Tell him that he does a neat sniping job.”

“Yeah, compliment one of the guys who comes to save your ass, Extra,” Four complained, rolling his eyes. “This way,” he headed going through the window as you followed.

“I'll thank you when I'll come out alive from this fucking mess One put me in.”

~~~

You heard your heart beat to the beat of the drums. From all the things you could have imagined, a party that One agreed to go to with his whole crew and you, this would never came to your mind. You put on your little black dress, dancing with a glass of champagne in your hand, right next to Two who brought you the glass you held. The crew was pretty nice, and you asked yourself if being with them wouldn't be a better life choice than living your hitman life – especially after the small conversation you had with Javier, who was absolutely glad that he stopped all of this, not being longer held by the missions and the contracts, but you loved this adrenaline, even if it meant working for the bad guys the most of the time.

The party you went to wasn't held by One, it would be a miracle, you just managed to go through the security together, with confident smiles on your faces and the looks needed to enter the place. The music blasted into your ears, and heart. And dancing with Two was a true pleasure, and even more than that. She seemed so cold but in fact she was the one to know how to have some fun with all these things around, with people, and taking advantage of who to get what she wanted. A true hitman indeed.

As you were dancing with Two and a flute of champagne, Four looked at you from afar, drinking another flute of champagne next to Seven. Probably too much flutes, because he stopped counting them. Mostly because you were the one intriguing him, on his mind since you almost threw him out this window when you first met. An instant crush. Four had something for dangerous women, he knew it – this was why his girlfriend dumped him from this building when he was in Ukraine stealing the necklace, too dangerous woman.

Seeing you climbing behind him, in that dress and bare foot, this was a new kind of experience he never knew he needed in his life. Your hairdo becoming messy as you jumped on the zipline he prepared, without any fear and he looked as your bun undid itself as you flew above the buildings. A truly magnificent view.

“Stop devouring her with your eyes and go to talk with her,” Seven said, elbowing him, “or otherwise you'll be wallowing for the next few years.”

“Wanker,” Four replied, putting the flute on one's server tray. “She's dancing with Two, she has fun with Two, and she likes Three. What the fuck am I to her? A youngster, One would say.”

“She's younger than One,” Seven remarked.

“Everybody is younger than One.”

“Don't be so over dramatic.”

“She tried to kill me.”

“That almost turned you on,” Seven remarked as Four made big eyes, “you said so, I noticed? Stays between us.” Four mouthed a thank you, before disappearing in the crowd to go and see her.

He had to breathe in, and breathe out. He was a total mess, a stupid mess. You were older than him – not much but still, it impressed him a lot, okay? – and he looked at you, having fun with Two before saying “fuck it” and going up to you.

Kesha. Great. “Oh what a shame that you came in with someone.” “We're gonna die young.” He was about to. He could feel butterflies in his stomach, his dizzy head as he approached you, sheepish and timid. You turned back, and saw him in his white collar shirt, standing in front of you. You tilted your head, curious to know what he wanted, Two having her full attention on Javier now.

“I'd like to kiss you”, he whispered, and he caught you off guard. He stood there, like a child, harmless.

“What,” was the only reply you could give him at that precise moment.

“Joking,” he pursued, playing with his fingers as you leaned closer to look at him. He looked so cute.

“Four, what do you want,” you asked him, maybe a bit impatiently. You too maybe wanted to kiss him. Maybe just a bit. Or maybe even more.

“Unless,” he continued, plunging his beautiful crystal eyes into yours.

“Fuck it,” you said, as you took him by his waist to kiss him.

Your lips against his, alcohol scented, as much as yours. He ran his fingers through your hair, delicately biting your lip as you parted to catch your breaths. He smiled against your lips, satisfied that you didn't throw him out that window, but almost.

#yaaaay i'm back on that traiiiin #and did the blurb! #i hope you enjoyed this nonnie! 💕 #ben hardy #four x reader #four!ben #four/billy #four ben hardy #6 underground ben hardy #6 underground #six underground ben hardy #six underground #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy blurb #blurb

[chrysalispen]

xiv. alive, not vital overmuch;

Of all the things the Carline Canopy’s proprietress would have expected the Council to request of her as part of Gridania’s rebuilding effort, playing hostess to an imperial prisoner of war on a work-release program was not one of them. But looking at the haggard, pale young woman before her, dressed in filthy homespun and absolutely soaking wet from the downpour outside, Miounne realized this woman wasn’t at all what she had feared.

Truth be told, she hadn’t been quite certain what to expect. A cruel mien, or mayhap a pretty one paired with a haughty, dismissive demeanor. She’d spoken to enough adventurers over the years to be passing familiar with stories of the warlike race from far northern Ilsabard – or, perhaps more correctly, the tall tales and gossip. She’d heard that Garleans fancied themselves superior to other races, that they were taller even than Roegadyn, that they had a third eye that allowed them to see in all directions at once, that they were violent and, well.

Rather savage, really, for all that they applied that epithet so freely to Hydaelyn’s other peoples.

This woman - no, girl, Miounne thought, this was just a girl, really - had the so-called third eye and that was all: a small pearlescent jewel resting perhaps an ilm below her hairline. Concealed for the most part, by honey-blonde locks that badly needed washing. She might tower over a Midlander but her height was hardly remarkable. She didn’t appear cruel or sullen or haughty, either, although the hands white-knuckled and fidgeting at her waist clearly betrayed discomfort.

Well, she supposed, one could hardly expect an enemy prisoner to be pleased with their reduced circumstances.

“So, you’re the imperial army chirurgeon who surrendered to the Maelstrom.”

“Correct.” That soft, subdued voice was not what she had expected, either, seeming rather better suited to a lady’s drawing room than a battlefield. It also held the barest hint of a tremor; whether from fear or some other emotion, it was impossible to tell. “I am told you offered your space to the Grand Company on the Seedseer’s behalf. You have my thanks.”

Not trusting herself to respond to that, Miounne pushed the ledger on her desk towards her charge.

“Write your name here,” she said. “I oversee the Adventurers’ Guild here in Gridania. In name at least, you will be entered upon this roster as one of my freelancers. It should keep most people in town from asking inconvenient questions about your presence.”

A humorless smirk tilted the young woman’s mouth – ‘inconvenient for me or for you?’ that look said, plain as day – but whatever her opinion might have been she had apparently elected to keep her own counsel, because her expression smoothed back into a neutral mask almost as soon as it had appeared. She bent studiously over the ledger to write on the page with the quill, paused mid-stroke, wrote something else, and finally put the pen back in its inkpot.

Miounne took the book back, half expecting to see an X or some other scribble indicating a signature. 'Twas not uncommon to encounter foreign adventurers who either couldn’t read Common, couldn’t write it, or both. What she saw was a name scribed in painstakingly neat and perfectly legible Eorzean letters.

“…'Aurelia Laskaris.’ ” She stared down at the bowed golden head; those dark blue eyes would not meet hers. “That’s not some amusing nom de plume, I hope?”

“No, 'tis my name, save for a title to which I can no longer lay claim.”

Oh.

“Anyroad,” Miounne cleared her throat after an uncomfortable pause, “your room is through those doors. It’s hardly what one would call opulent, but you’ll find us Gridanians a very simple lot. Your meal times will be regimented as follows. Breakfast at six bells, luncheon at noon, supper at six past, and per the terms of your sentence you are to make an appearance at the inn for all of them if you are within the city limits.”

“Will that be all?”

“I’m told you will have a companion?”

That wry half-smile returned. “The minder assigned to me by your governing council, you mean?”

“Quite. If you are detained for any reason during a meal hour, you may send them in your stead to explain the situation so that the conditions of your service are met. I don’t expect to have to impose a curfew upon you as though you are a child. I ask only that in turn you will please not abuse my hospitality.”

“I shouldn’t expect there will be an issue,” the woman answered softly. “I do find, however, that my services as you put it are unnecessary at this juncture, and I am fatigued. By your leave?”

Somewhat bemused by the polite dismissal, Miounne nodded. Her gaze lingered for a moment or two upon the tall girl as she limped away from the desk and towards the doors that led to the bedchambers of the Canopy’s patrons without so much as a glance backwards.

To a native Gridanian, an exchange like that ending the way it did would normally have seemed abrupt or impolite. Presumptive, at the very least- but Miounne instead found herself feeling both a sense of consternation and pity. She wasn’t certain what she found more remarkable: the air of quiet melancholy that surrounded the woman, or her pitifully dignified demeanor.

It was like watching a disgraced noble attempt to maintain some shred of self-possession while begging for scraps from strangers, and it made her acutely uncomfortable. She didn’t want to feel pity for a Garlean, especially not one she had not wanted to board.

But there was no help for it now. She’d given her word to the Council that she’d take the girl in, at least until a more permanent arrangement could be made.

Twelve, what have I agreed to…

~*~

Over the course of the night the latest bout of rain had passed, leaving the air still and humid. The sky was still grey and overcast, the ruined city somehow even more wasted in the light of day, blackened and broken. A thin and grimy patina of grey mud seemed to have been slapped over every single surface upon which feet had trod and the Canopy’s deck was no exception.

Aurelia limped towards the steps that led downwards to the main thoroughfare, taking care to watch her footing. A small crowd of people had gathered around the remains of the aetheryte plaza, and she saw no less than a score of men and women bracing the dark and cracked crystal with a mass of ropes and pulleys.

“Move!” a strident voice shouted. “Pull left on my count, one, two–”

As one the work detail hoisted and groaned and dug their heels into the water-loosened soil. The crystal moved perhaps the barest few ilms.

“Left! One! Two!”

She was just about to make her way down the steps when she felt the intrusion into her sphere of perception. Not even a heartbeat later, a gloved hand fell upon her forearm.

“Whoa, now hold on a moment, miss.”

Aurelia tensed, thinking perhaps she’d violated some unspoken rule, but the face she saw was mild-mannered and friendly. It belonged to a Miqo'te man with bronzed skin and fawn-colored hair and soft grey eyes, the pupils large and round in a fresh-looking face. He was wearing the yellow overcoat of what she was quickly starting to realize was the color of Gridania’s Grand Company, the Order of the Twin Adder.

“You don’t want to go out there just yet,” he continued.

“I’m sorry, but I’m expected. The Council was supposed to send someone-”

Without skipping a beat he thrust a hand forward. “That 'someone’ is me, as it happens. The name’s Keveh'to Epocan. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you and make certain you don’t decide to hop the border.”

“I doubt I should get that far,” Aurelia said wryly. “I can barely make it down the blasted stairs without falling.”

“That all that’s stopping you, is it?”

“Hardly. I couldn’t return now even if I wished it.”

“…Ah. Well-” he cleared his throat, “it’s the Conjurer’s Guild that has need of you, actually. But before we’re off… you’ll want to put this on.”

The object he held out to her was a kerchief, made of the same homespun, layered and heavy and obviously meant to be worn on her head. Confusion reigned for a span of seconds before her face paled and she looked away. 

“The third eye,” she said, her voice flat. “Of course.”

“Sorry, Miss Laskaris. It’s just…” He sighed, glanced at the work crew, and his voice dropped to a mutter. “I’m saying you should hide it for your own safety, you understand? People are… sensitive right now. They’re already upset enough knowing the Seedseer agreed to take in some of your fellows. Should they find out a Garlean is in the city, right under their noses…”

Her minder trailed off, watching her stare down at the rough hempen cloth in tense silence. To his credit he had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed, but he didn’t say anything as she arranged the kerchief on her head so that the fold over her brow covered both her third eye and her neatly brushed fringe.

“Most folk will know you’re a prisoner, mind, and they’ll be suspicious but they’re not like to harass you - at least, not any more so than any of the others. We’re for the Fane today, so we’ll just pass this lot by and leave them to their work.” Keveh'to held out his elbow. “Here, hold onto me. The mud’s left the pathways a bit tricky to navigate.”

It was slow going. The wooden-soled pattens had almost no traction to speak of and she slipped several times, her gait made clumsy with her limp. But her minder was patient and quiet, and caught her each time with a friendly smile, and they were able to pass by the crowd around the platform without comment.

The main thoroughfare was another story.

Most of it was a mess of charred wood and ashes, and along with the Miqo'te she had to carefully pick her way about the rubble. Several of the people clearing the debris had stopped to watch them pass, and Aurelia fancied she could feel those stony, hostile stares prickling the gooseflesh on her arms.

“Murderer!” a woman’s voice shouted. “Look at what you’ve done!”

“Keep walking,” came Keveh'to’s murmur at her shoulder. “Pay them no mind.”

A moment later she found herself thankful indeed for her third eye and the perception it granted her. The mud-covered stone had come from the other side of the road, hurled with a surprising speed. Aurelia acted upon instinct, barely cognizant of the attack until after it had happened, and was able to dodge it with relative ease. There was a sharp sting as it grazed her cheek and that was all.

Aurelia’s minder acted instantly. Tugging her arm to position her behind him in case any more thrown stones might be forthcoming, he turned a scowl upon  the small cluster gathered on the far side of the path, his tail lashing against her leg in the restless sort of way Sazha had used to do when he was agitated.

“Tossing about insults is one thing, ladies,” he said sternly, “but I’ll not have you attacking people in the streets.”

“Why is she even here?” the leader of the number scoffed, with an angry lift of her chin. She was pretty in the sort of way Aurelia recognized from personal experience: delicate features, head of glossy golden curls, blue eyes alight with defiance. “Why should we have to tolerate imperials in our own bloody city, the one they destroyed? Why are you defe-”

“Enough, Alyse! This isn’t your concern.”

“Says who?”

“Says the Seedseer. Now you keep your hands - and any thrown projectiles - to yourself in future, or there will be consequences.”

The Hyur’s jaw dropped.

“…Are you threatening me?”

“I’m reminding you that the Twelveswood’s law applies to everyone,” Keveh'to said coolly. “Now you have a choice. You can either disperse or return to your business, but make a decision before I have a mind to press the issue with the Wailers. Your father has enough worries as it is.”

The pair locked gazes for a moment, but Alyse was the first to look away - though she continued to glare daggers at his charge. 

Sullen-faced, the women returned to their work, and the prisoner hurried past with her minder close at her heels. They made their way down winding paths, past more burnt homes and shops and gardens, Aurelia keeping her eyes carefully fixed upon the ground.

“Down this path,” Keveh'to said with a brief gesture. “The Stillglade Fane is just ahead. Home of the Conjurers’ Guild.”

By chance or by design, the glade appeared to have been spared any major damage. The stones beneath her feet were worn smooth, mottled with lichen, and half-overgrown by countless treads along the path, and as she emerged she saw people lying in cots under the open air, sheltered from the sky only by the massively tall canopy of the Shroud that arched gracefully over the clearing. Robed figures moved with an unhurried grace from cot to cot, and a soft, cool breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

At her questioning glance, he confirmed:

“People often bring their ill or injured loved ones to the Fane for healing when matters are particularly dire - though the Hearers say it’s up to the elementals whether those lives be spared or no.”

“ 'Dire matters.’ I suppose there has been quite a bit of that particular circumstance as of late.”

“I’ll not deny it. Most come away with their hopes dashed, these days. Even at their friendliest, the elementals cannot and will not save everyone. This disaster left most of them so addled with rage they will no longer respond even to the Padjal. This way.”

Aurelia followed a few steps before she halted in her tracks, froze in place at the entrance. Even from here she could see the Fane’s interior corridor was dark and almost oppressively quiet, its walls close, barely enough to admit two people. 

No recourse if there was a collapse.

She stared into its depths without blinking, the pupils of her eyes blown wide despite the diffuse light of day, and all but startled out of her skin when the Miqo'te’s hand squeezed her forearm.

“They’re waiting on us, you know- …are you all right?”

“….I’m fine,” she rasped. There was a sharp and acidic taste on her tongue. Bile and burnt ceruleum. “I’m…. fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You look about to faint. Your leg, right? I suppose you’ve overtaxed yourself.”

“I’m-”

“Go sit down over there, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Aurelia opened her mouth to protest but one look at the man’s face told her it would fall on deaf ears. 

She limped towards one of the empty stumps and seated herself, watching him disappear into the recesses of the cavern, and uncurled the hands that had clenched into fists. Two of her nails had broken skin cutting into the meat of her palms and she hadn’t even noticed. The half-moon shapes welled with thin lines of blood.

She pressed the heels of her palms against her thighs - the small sting of those cuts helped her focus, at least a little bit - and took in the cool peace of her surroundings. It was a relief that this place seemed so serene and untouched by the disaster. Most of the city of Gridania had burned to the ground and she couldn’t bring herself to look at any of it. 

She supposed it was cowardice on her own part, at least on some level. It was hard to face what the VIIth had done, to acknowledge as their responsibility both the sheer scale of their folly and the consequences wrought from it. Carteneau had been horrible, but it had also been a battlefield; she could make sense of the ugliness of war in that context.

But as they’d traveled she had seen that it wasn’t confined to Mor Dhona. Bahamut had cut a deep wound into the very land and that included the deepest parts of the Black Shroud. Countless small villages had burned to the ground with no hope of rescue and naught left to salvage. There had been endless piles of deadfall and ancient old-growth trees burnt to hollowed husks, lines of shallow-dug graves peppering the roads around abandoned smallholds and settlements, and the sight of each had placed an invisible stone’s weight upon Aurelia’s stooping shoulders.

And beyond the Shroud was the entire continent of Aldenard, and that made her feel so ill with guilt she had to abandon the attempt.

“Miss Laskaris!”

Keveh'to was waving for her attention.

At his side stood… a boy, one with a pair of horns on his head that made her think of Kan-E-Senna. The smile he wore was not unlike hers had been either, though it felt somewhat more genuine, and as the pair drew nearer Aurelia couldn’t shake the feeling that much like the city’s ruler, this boy was much older than he appeared.

“The Seedseer sent word ahead,” he said. His calm voice was clear and crisp, like the sound of a bell on a cold winter morning. “Well met, Aurelia - it is Aurelia, correct? I am Brother E-Sumi-Yan, master of the Conjurers’ Guild. I trust your journey was quiet?”

“Very wet, but otherwise peaceful, yes." 

Were they really sitting here discussing the weather…?

"Ah, that is good. The elementals have been ever so uneasy, ever since the fires.” As if sensing her underlying confusion, he shifted the simple wooden staff to his other hand. “When Dalamud was destroyed, it unleashed a great and terrible force. One that wreaked havoc upon the realm and will, I fear, continue to do so for some time. 'Twas all my fellow Padjal could do to ease their pain and fury, and large pockets of the forest lie too heavy with woodsin to be safe for any living creature.”

“Aren’t they calling it another Calamity, Brother?” Keveh'to asked. “That’s the rumor making the rounds anyroad.”

His smile faded. “I’m afraid so. At the very least, Calamity or no, Eorzea has been brought to her knees. We were fractious and divided at the best of times beforehand, and this disaster has sundered us nigh beyond hope of recovery. The only silver lining thus far is - if you’ll pardon me, Mistress Laskaris - that the Empire appears to have fared no better than we in the aftermath.”

“No offense taken.”

“But enough of politics; you are here for a reason. Many have been injured, mind and soul as well as body,” he said calmly, “and they are desperate for those who can bring them succor. I am told you have skills that will prove useful when used alongside conjury, and that you have extensive knowledge of reagents and the like as well- though the Seedseer did admit that knowledge is secondhand.��

“I have a kit- a field kit, that I was told accompanied me to the city. With medicine and alchemics and such, and my… my tools, should they be needful.”

“They will be, I am sure.”

“Then I will bring it with me on the morrow.” She felt the fragmented pieces of her composure assemble, then settle, as she fell into her role. It was like shrugging on a comfortable coat - she could take some solace, if naught else, in the fact that she could still be trusted to do her job to the best of her ability. “Or at least, I assume that your Seedseer wishes me to work alongside the Guild in my capacity as a chirurgeon?”

“We certainly do. Tell me, Mistress Laskaris- did your duties in the VIIth Legion include the creation of medicines as well?”

“Most of the medicines were premade and shipped to the various castra from the capitol,” she admitted. “That said, any medicus worth the title should know how to create and use simple potions at the very least, yes. Why?”

“While the ability of a conjurer to heal is absolutely vital to our skillset, it is not all that we will need to weather the coming winter. Many people were lost to this tragedy and we have had refugees coming into the old city from the outskirts for weeks. People are in sore need of food and medicine, and we have fewer in the guild who are skilled in the craft of alchemy than I should like.”

“I am only one woman, I’m afraid, but I shall do my level best with what means are available.”

He beamed at her, with an earnest air that did remind her of a boy, at that moment. “Excellent. Now, I know that you must needs report to Mistress Miounne in short order, so let us discuss what you are to do here.”

She listened to his explanations, nodded when she was supposed to nod, and bid him a cordial farewell with the promise that she’d return anon.

But in the back of her mind Aurelia couldn’t help a certain misgiving, one she knew would nag at her for some time tonight. 

While she most certainly did know how to create medicines, most of the tools and components she would have used to restock her supply were not things one could find in a realm that clearly did not make use of much magitek, nor run upon ceruleum-fueled electric power. If she was careful, the contents of her kit would last for a good while, but it wouldn’t last forever. There wasn’t much to be done for it, she thought uneasily. Not right now. Not today.

Still…  she’d have to figure out a workable solution, and she'd have to do so in short order.

~*~

Aurelia hadn’t had terribly high expectations in the way of Gridanian hospitality, given her cordial yet rather tense exchange with the inn’s owner and operator the night before. Thus it was with considerable and rather pleasant surprise that evening when she returned to her quarters after making use of the communal bath to find a tray with a bowl of porridge, a cup, and a teapot sitting upon the night table by her simple bed.

A few fulms away, next to the table, was a familiar large black carbonweave bag.

As she limped towards the neatly made bed with its fresh linens she saw a change of clothes laid across the coverlet: a shift dress, soft cotton undergarments, and a simple leather corset. The attire was all elezen-sized; the dress would be a bit long on her but that was easy enough to rectify. 

The clothes were also in good repair, she noted, meaning they were either new or in as-new condition. The intent behind them was clear enough. Perhaps Miounne wasn’t a bad sort after all.

The Garlean allowed herself a small smile. She’d have to thank the woman at her next opportunity.

Toweling her hair dry, she slipped the undergarments on and the oversized shift, then sat down on the edge of the bed and unlatched the straps of her bag to have a look inside more out of habit than aught else. The assortment of vials and bottles and the small carbonweave belt with its set of steel tools appeared to be whole and in their proper places, not that she had particularly expected otherwise, but she was relieved to see that none of the bottles appeared to have been cracked or broken.  

An additional surprise lay nestled among the synthetic reagents: a small plain wooden box that was decidedly out of place among the piles of modern medical implements. When she lifted it a piece of half-crumpled scrap paper fluttered out of one of the corners to the bedspread, having been folded and tucked into the crack between the box and its lid with obvious haste.

Frowning faintly, she unfolded the note. The writing took some few minutes to read as the straggling shapes and awkward curves of the Eorzean letters made the words difficult to decipher.

Hello Lass. If your reading this then the Sd Seedseer gave you the feild kit like I asked. Sorry my letters arnt so good. Bryn added something to & says its in the Box.

If your ever in Limsa ask for me at the Winch. Badderon will let me know.

Good luck to you miss Arelia. Hope we meet again Your Frend, Cheerful Sparrow.

The hand holding the paper trembled.

Friend.

How long had it been since she’d dared to think of anyone as a friend, a true friend? She’d had her classmates of course, and her peers in the cohort. But they had been associates, not friends - such a level of intimacy was reserved for people with whom one felt safe sharing secrets and that was just not possible in the Empire, especially not in the capitol amongst her own kind. 

Not when her dreams and inner thoughts had ever ran so counter to that of the people she’d known.

Aurelia took a deep breath and opened the box.

The heavy, engraved silver pendant on its tarnished chain was one she knew all too well. When she slid her thumbnail along the groove to pop the catch that bound the locket shut, she found its contents exactly as they had been the day she had entrusted Sazha with it. 

On the left, the miniature daguerreotype portrait of her mother, safely ensconced beneath glass. On the right, a single pressed flower: the last of the Althyk lavender from her girlhood garden. A bloom she hadn’t seen with her own eyes in years.

It was all she could do just to clear her throat and blink back from her eyes the tears that threatened. He hadn’t forgotten.

Thank you, Sazha. Bryn, Sparrow – all of you. Thank you. Friends, all of them. Somehow, despite everything that had happened, she’d made friends in Eorzea already.

It gave her a small inkling of hope that maybe, just maybe, she had made the right decision after all.

#chrysalispen writes #chapter 14 #reborn by fire

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Hither hatches and kiss thereof nourished”)

Hither hatches and kiss  thereof nourished, strength and  songs and change their stature  given and  within weeps the  seal it you; there winters 

hands which we were 

missed again, and  rode at last every  tongue as  with Fate of  the jasmine  are the souls or 

cries out upon the 

heathen in her 

blast till midnight her spells,  beside with  shadow, when  Pegasus seem to  think it has late account  the simple on  her aunt, and  his weariness, and  adoration which sere  fancy “falls out of reach 

others: many a face? 

Her fathers smile is 

against the  working hands, Rose majestically 

from  the chance stirrd  with pleasure, for  while w ith it, has he pushed  through. comes thing Ive readers of  our praises;  or, if she  doth shewe, fell outlive and  who, beings beard, and be 

you  and yet I call:  who didst makes of a 

coterie. Of the  Heaven design, i, who  saith ‘A whole act expressed  them at they will be! 

Had strive, and in  lieu the black cord  making that I aspired  the through Lips did  mark my lips. their own! Waited,  odd times a sudden 

hear my pen, and ’twas— the pink mallow peepes  his tune delicacy  of  the random scheme as  the world its  Treasure, for a  map, but uncurrent was  moved every 

Hyacinth the  murmured, sown with 

her love had not come,” she  saw what of twenty—

five year. See how we 

threshold or lose the  chewed the tyrant 

oer the forth, I rate 

as Sappho at heart who, 

in my love? She is 

swayed: Ay—there griefe: the 

snow-pale prince the 

power to Rowhampton  gate! Hark how to  him thy door which men  weep not in prose, Trees turned,  for very water.  I moved again sae  bonie side. Will ever in  the Sultan, and  hardly know them: then  blood-hounds, from every 

tongue transgression of  the hate myself  in loue and drawing  from the twangling  violin struck the 

Vintners but, in maidenhood.  The random scheme  of This and violets  cover of  events is  always wine, you more  endeavour from the 

snow, smother flocked thee, the  wakened, a  memories, and worn the 

wide flat field of  the skin triggers your  silent influence of  death sought my soul (and  otherwise. The sleep- warm piles up. The generations  or people  having left half; trust meant a  mere upbraiding into  spring,  pulling eyes, the little  sermon. The holy 

bower, to warm  South,) I blow: at once with  Logic absolute  boy for a Song.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #162 texts

[ladyfl4me]

If it's ok to ask, how do you usually draft your chapters? Do you usually write a chapter in one-go without notes or do you usually write themes?

That’s absolutely okay! (yeehaw another Long Ass Answer about my writing process, sorry about that. buckle in, i guess)

Honestly it depends on the scale of the project. With short works, I usually do sit down and write without notes, following my gut. But i still like to make a little note at the beginning, just a few bullet points, to give me an idea of where I want the story to go; and if the story ends up changing as I go, then it changes. Having an end in sight does help the words flow more. like for “twas the nog before christmas” my initial outline was really short:

leo fucks up and orders 100 boxes of eggnog on accident

leo puts out a bulletin for a massive sale when the nog comes in a few days before christmas

duck and indrid run into each other there

snowball fight

a kiss

cast - duck, indrid, leo, guest appearances from aubrey and ned

problem, rising action, climax, falling action, conclusion. skidoosh, ya got a story. and then i just slam back a fuckload of coffee, put on some tunes, and let the spirit move me.

However, if it’s part of anything longer than a chapter or two, that practically requires excruciating notes, at least for me. I usually have about eight or nine “skeleton” points to start a story. My chapter outlines fill in the flesh between those skeleton points, or are based around those points, and I create new outlines for chapters as I see fit to get from point A to point B. Those chapter outlines go into excruciating detail, which works best for me because of my busy schedule. the more i have down in a raw, bland format - no printer just fax - the easier it is to come back and flesh it out into prose. Half the work is done for me that way. 

This technique is known as “scene blocking” in the film industry, where directors make note of where their actors are, what they’re doing, what the environment is, etc., without actually paying attention to dialogue until it’s time to do the script. (I’m not a film student, so I don’t have a more precise or correct definition. It’s a relatively well-documented principle, though, if you want to do some digging.) In writing, it’s basically the same thing: what happens in the scene, but not what is said or felt. Or, to frame it in amnesty terms, scene blocking is like those times at the end of story and song or stolen century where Griffin would be monologuing: describing scenes, character interactions, some sparse dialogue, dropping a nice fat exposition dookie that might have some prose to seal the deal and be memorable. it’s relative. 

I tend not to scene block in my outlines to that extent. If I outline in too much detail and prose, to the point where I basically just wrote the story but without any dialogue, that tricks my brain into thinking i’m done, and the chapter doesn’t get done for about a century. 

for example, here’s what my outline looked for the beginning of chapter 15.

spoilers ahead for TMWCIFTC Chapter 15, if you haven’t read it yet:

first, go over the plan while standing around: summon, use stern as bait, hem it in, and try to contain it, because if they starve it to death while it’s in physical form then it’ll die

1. summon it

a. aubrey and vanessa combine their magic to summon it. technically this is Big Magic because the Ashminder isn’t a monster, per se, just a starved, unhinged, and feral Sylph.

b. they need to cast the summoning spell somewhere far away, so they can keep it out of town. if this fight gets bad, then they’d be putting the town in danger, and they’re not willing to do that. they do it on Refuge Hill, overlooking the lake and the apartments. close to leo’s and duck’s home bases, but still on the outskirts of town.

2. bait it

a. the thing knows that indrid is The Place To Go For All Your Memory Needs, but for all intents and purposes it works on visuals only, and only gets a snapshot of who you are when it’s. like. touching your soul.

b. and stern has the disguise glasses.

c. so.

d. stern sits on a lawn chair overlooking the lake and Refuge Hill, sipping from a hot coffee, while aubrey and vanessa work the summoning circle for ye old motherfucker.

3. bring it on

contrast that against the actual start of the chapter:

They made their way to Refuge Hill by foot, by car, by snowmobile. Duck and Indrid trudged through the snow to the parking lot, where sledding families would leave their cars while the kids went up and down the slopes. Mama’s truck - the bed piled high with weapons - drove past them and into a parking space. Ned’s Snowcat chugged into the space next to it a few minutes later; it was loud and slow, but it did the job, and both Ned and Barclay stepped out of it armed to the teeth. Jake blasted down the unplowed side streets on his snowmobile, a scarf wrapped around his face and his eyes hidden behind his goggles. The moon was clouded.

Stern gingerly climbed out of the back of Mama’s truck, holding onto the inside of the door with a white-knuckled grip. The wind almost slammed the truck door closed on him; he flinched, shielding his eyes from the blowing snow. His borrowed green army coat blew to one side, showing his gun holstered on his belt.

“You ready?” Mama said quietly to Stern. The man nodded once and reached back into the truck for his travel mug of hot cocoa. On the other side, Dani stood on her tiptoes and pulled a folding lawn chair out of the bed of Mama’s truck.

They had a plan. As Stern unfolded the chair in the middle of the parking lot and gingerly sat down in it, Aubrey crossed all her fingers and toes. God, she hoped this would work.

One has prose, one doesn’t. And the actual beginning of the chapter was much more fleshed out, adding sensory detail and character perspectives; if I included the entire start of the chapter, as covered in the outline, I’d practically include half of the damn thing in this post alone. The outline that I do lists the who, what, when, where, and how; the prose is the why (character motivations, emotions, sensory detail, etc), which I don’t necessarily need to add until later. 

What matters to me is that I have at least a foundation to build on, so when I have some time blocked out I can go through and take down sections of the outline. I swear by scene blocking; getting the story down and out in a non-prose format was what let me write the rough draft of the first book of my fantasy series in 4 months, a couple years ago. It gets shit done.

So yeah - I tend to outline most stuff so I’m not floundering to find the story’s direction. Writing without an outline is pretty terrifying, but it can be done; I don’t always recommend it for anything longer than 1k, but whatever works for you! Thanks for the ask!

#asks #tmwciftc #Anonymous

[castorre]

The Quieting of the Castrum

A super self-indulgent fic I’ve been trying to finish. It involves the Garlean AU where Eclair and Mory are scientists working on the Resonance project, but Eclair decides to go with Aulus to Castrum Abania. This is based off of a certain ask meme. 

Sirens wailed, signalling the breach of Castrum Abania’s innermost levels. Scientists of all kinds sought either the single remaining transport or attempted to flee into the underground bunkers.

Of all the things to happen, when Aulus had been called to Ala Mhigo to speak with the crown prince. How was she to help her fellow scientists? What was she to do except wait for her own demise? Eclair sat, curled into a corner, holding her knees to her chest. She would be found eventually. They would surely seek the servers for the Castrum, hoping to find the information abound about both the Empire and the experiments which had taken place there.

A small bleep of sound recalled Eclair to the one terminal in the small room. She tapped on the keyboard, entering the requisite information.

[Accepted]

[Cloud Upload Complete]

She breathed heavily, the heat of the servers stifling the room. The cooling had been one of the things necessary to disengage once the Alliance began pushing further into the Castrum. They had to reserve those small stores of energy.

[Delete Server Cache?]

[Accepted]

[Working....]

A loud bang startled the duskwight from the terminal. Yelling, more banging.

“Fuck me…” She glared back at the terminal, just as it reached completion. “Good, just a little more. Work with me.”

[Format Server Mainframe? (This will delete all data from the server storage memory)]

[Accepted]

[Working…]

The heavy metal door creaked. Another loud bang, sending flames sputtering through the small spaces between the wall and the door. Explosives? She would soon be found out, but all there was left was to pray, to whomever would hear her, that her task would finish before they found her.

She retreated to the darkest corner of the room, hidden behind a mass of wires and steel and magitek. She ran her hands through her coat carefully. Twas unfortunate that she had not been in the labs when the initial sirens sounded. She would have at least been able to arm herself with the multitude of acids or oxygen-aided explosives they had developed.

The door shook, finally giving way to whatever explosives they had used to splinter the metal. She shrank against the wall, hoping they would only give a cursory glance over the room before leaving.

“Well, what do we ‘ave here?” The distinct Ala Mhigan accent gave Eclair worry. She knew that meant trouble for her if they found her. After all, they would be blood thirsty after their victory over the Castrum.

“Suppose i’s some sort o’ terminal. Nothin’ real interestin’ except to the commanders.” A second man, one who stepped a bit too close to the long file of drives Eclair was hiding behind. She held her breath.

[Complete]

“Eh? Looks like someone was in here not long ago. Not that I know much about these Garlean junkers. But they don’ just do shite on their own do they?”

“It’s a magitek terminal, o’ course they do you utter dodo. Come on, there ain’t nothin’ in here to kill.”

“All these science types have been borin’ anyways. No challenge.” The two men’s voices faded away beyond the doorway. Eclair finally took several deep breaths, her trembling fingers fumbling to help her stand. She obviously couldn’t just stay in the room…

She peaked beyond the doorway, her eyes widening in horror at the mass of bodies lining the halls. The Alliance was pulling the corpses of the science staff out for disposal, most likely. Distant explosions, screams, yells, so many things that mired her senses. The stench of the smoke that hung around was not just that of explosives, but of burning flesh as well. At least the flame traps had worked as intended, she supposed.  

The hall outside, besides the bodies, seemed relatively clear. Every now and again she would hear the distant footfalls of what surely must be Alliance or Resistance. She took a deep breath and stuck to the darker corridors, hoping to make it to any of the communication hubs deeper in the castrum. She knew the place intimately, and could surely outmaneuver any outsiders, who were likely to run into magitek sentries or other traps. She continued, ever alert, bound for the nearest safe room.

Meanwhile, none too far away, in the Ala Mhigan palace:

“Lord Zenos…” Aulus mal Asina appeared from behind the throne, removing his hand from the linkpearl at his ear.

“What is it, Aulus?” Zenos seemed preoccupied, his fingers dragging through the fabric at his waist.

“The mainframe has been breached..”

“What is the status?”

“She managed to delete it, my lord.”

“Good. Tis a shame that we will lose one of the few competent people we have, is it not?” Zenos’ voice remained ever the same. It was as if he was referring to a stranger and not someone who had helped the entirety of the aether and resonance projects.

“Most… unfortunate.” Aulus sounded more dejected than Zenos would have thought. Then again, he had always wished for the woman to follow him wherever he went. Perhaps he had found a kindred spirit, someone much like Zenos’ own Warrior of Light.

"Don't fret, Aulus. Should you perish, I'm sure you too will be promoted."

“My Lord.” Aulus’ voice wavered, “She asked if you intended to send rescue teams or units to assist the survivors here.”

“Hmm? Survivors... After the substantial losses in the fringes and the peaks, sparing the guard here would be most foolish, do you not agree, mal Asina? The Alliance will surely direct their forces upon Porta Praetoria next and set up their final charge against us. Castrum Abania is a lost cause.”

“... Very well, I shall relay that then, Lord Zenos.”

“Asina. Do also relay something else for me.” He peered up through darkened eyes, half-lidded, “I shall inform her little sister.”

“Yes, my lord.” Aulus found it hard to walk away without demanding his staff be given more respect than to leave them to die. Surely Zenos had known this was coming. Why else would the viceroy have recalled him so suddenly, and so conveniently?

He held his hand up to his ear, a sigh passing through his lips before he spoke.

“Eclair, Zenos has no intention of sending a search and rescue team. Nor does he intend to send even an escort for those escaping into the lochs. If you manage to find yourself through Porta Praetoria before the Alliance… you are faced with a invariably dangerous journey to the palace.”

“Aulus, I appreciate the concern… I will do my best to save those who are left in our team. I’ve seen things, terrible things, Aulus. I don’t know how many of us there are left, but I’ll open the gate to Porta Praetoria. If there is anyone left, I swear I will help them. I refuse to sit by and die.”

“I wish you luck, my… friend.” Aulus had never really had friends. If anyone were close enough to be called one, surely it would be his assistant of nearly a decade.

“Thank you, Aulus. If… if this is the last we ever speak, please take care of yourself. Don’t huff anymore of those spray chemicals, alright? They’re not good for you, you know.” She laughed before they exchanged their farewells over the linkpearl. If Zenos wouldn’t help, there was perhaps one more option she could try.

She keyed in a number that she had never had to call before, one she had been given only for an emergency.

“Your Radiance?”

“No, he is in a meeting at the moment. May I take a message for him?” The voice was one she recognized, but barely. Likely a scribe of some sort.

“No, is there any way you could call for him, for even a moment?”

“Absolutely not. The fact that you would even ask about such a thing- I will take a name and a mes-”

“No, I don’t believe it will matter by the time he’s out.” She ended the call before the other person could respond. Of course, in her last moments, she was being deflected by diplomacy.

Very well, if that was how it was going to be… She pulled her coat off, ridding herself of the useless weight. It held too little protection to be worth how much it weighed. She walked to the door, pressing her ear to the outside. Nothing. The shaft she had traveled down had been barren then. Though it was likely the alliance would come by the wing at any moment.

One last time on the terminal. She keyed out several numbers, connected to linkpearls. “Attention, this is lux E’vila. Is there anyone still out there?”

Silence…

“Once again, this is lux E’vila. Is there anyone still alive?”

The silence was deafening. There was no way she was the only one, was there? All of the people she had come to know, like a second family away from the capital. They were all…? That realization hit her like a mountain of bricks. Thank the twelve that Mory had stayed back home. She should have as well. She should have listened to Varis’ concerns, to Claudia’s. But she was too stubborn. She wanted so much to see the project to completion. And what had it done? Created a monster of a viceroy, killed far more than it aided, and for all of it… she was left to die by someone she considered family. How could he? She knew he wasn’t who he had been, but, to leave her there to die as if she were nothing.

A loud bang, and several more, shook the entire building. What exactly… no, a ram? To blast through the door leading to the final path to the Lochs, most likely. Had they already reached so far? She placed her hand against the pad of the door, and peered around the edge when it opened.

Alliance everywhere. How had she not heard them? Her eyes widened at the realization… the communications rooms were all sound padded. In her certainty that she could reach the outside, she had locked herself in a void, unable to hear just how dangerous the situation outside was becoming.

Loud voices came from right down the hall, and as she went to shut the door, all of the backup generators running the castrum finally died. Suddenly, she was lost in the pitch black. And just as quickly, she was unsure of how to progress from here. All of her peers were dead. The Alliance was breaking into the Lochs at that very instant. She shrank against the inside wall, her fingers trembling as she faced what was almost certainly the end. There were no survivors to the Alliance, not this time, at least. It was plain they were unforgiving, unwilling to even gaol the unarmed, opting to slay at will. Savages is what the Garleans called them. And, perhaps, Eclair agreed. For she had never seen a worse sight than that which she had quietly stepped through, holding in her cries of rage at the dead around her.

Despite all they had done in the resonance project, despite the experimentation - she had never meant to harm anyone. She hadn’t intended to. And she always worked to make sure the subjects were as comfortable as possible.

The voices came close, on just the other side of the wall. Eclair held her breath, choking back tears again. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a switchblade and releasing it to a prone position.

It was from there that everything seemed to slip from reality into a strange haze of action and consequence. She waited for the voices to go past the door, before trying to dart to the next hallway she could remember. The doors were locked. All of the doors would be inaccessible now, of course…

She let out a curse, perhaps a little too loudly. And found herself at the unfortunate end of a group of Alliance soldiers with the only exit past them.

“Well, what have we? A Garlean?” A light was shone on her face, causing her to squint.

“Hardly. I am blue and have pointed ears. Though I suppose I could pretend if you really wanted me to.”

“A traitor then? Even worse if you ask me.” A second soldier growled, already reaching for his weapon.

“You lot come barging in here, killing everyone. Not asking a single damn question. Killing unarmed people, killing people who were taken from their homes by war, killing people born to parents of annexed nations. Killing your own kin and blood just like the savages they say you are. Like they say WE are. And you’ve done naught but prove them right because you bastards slaughtered a castrum filled with mainly non-Garlean personnel. You killed the staff that was left when the Viceroy recalled the important purebloods back to Ala Mhigo.”

The soldiers glanced at each other through the dim light before drawing closer to her. The first glared at her, “So you are an Imperial then? You didn’t have to go spilling your guts like that.”

“Someone has to. Because, for some reason, your Alliance leaders have about as much wit between them as a spriggan. When they decide to raid the next castrum, maybe they can remember that there are people that never wanted to be there in the first place.”

“Traitor!” The soldier, a fellow elezen, lunged at her with his blade. She barely even tried to dodge it, taking the blade right through the viscera. Perhaps it was because she knew, even back in the mainframe, that this would be where she died. None of the staff had deserved their deaths. None.

“You’re right. I am a traitor, gladly. Because the best Eorzea had to offer me was beatings. And now you offer me what?” Blood soaked her clothing, spreading into her pants. A fast motion, unnerving in its silence, found Eclair’s switchblade in the throat of the soldier. He fell back onto the ground with a wet gargle. “Death?”

She stepped over the body, still with the blade through her abdomen. It seemed as if it phased her little at all. For some reason, the soldiers were backing away from her. Did she seem frightening for some reason?

The two others drew their blades, shakily. The woman’s eyes, was she one of those experiments like they saw in the bottom floors? Like the dead bodies that lay in mutilated heaps.

“What in the seven hells - kill her!” Even saying that, neither of the two were keen on lunging at the woman with a sword through her tip to hilt and eyes pink as a carnation. It was only when she finally stood within touching distance that they drove their blades into her multiple times. And yet, she took the hits without a sound, as if she were a phantom, unfeeling. A pool of blood formed under her, growing wider by the second.

“Ishgard… Gridania… all of Eorzea. A heap of garbage waiting for the incinerator. Just like my friends that you murdered.” Everything was suddenly quiet, when she had nearly pried one man’s head from his neck with the switchblade. The other ran, leaving his fallen comrades and his sword behind.

She walked back into the hallway she had come from. The swords hit the floor with a sharp rattling after she pulled them from her gut. It was strange, this new sensation. How was she still going? That should have surely killed her. And yet, her body felt more at ease than it ever had. For once, nothing hurt, her mind didn’t race. She had noticed, in smaller scale, that her wounds would heal much faster. That pulled muscles didn’t stay that way for long. But this was a totally different kind of resonance. Not at all like what Zenos or Mory had.

All at once, that feeling of euphoric calm left, and the shooting pain brought her to kneel. Had she run out of aether? It mattered little now. She had counted herself dead already, so what else was there to care about? She would be free. But that brought little comfort considering the shock her body was going through. Her instincts told her to fight. But there was no fighting this. Nothing left to aid herself with in the pitch black, surrounded by a legion’s worth of murderers.

There was only one regret. And as her eyes closed for the last time, she swore she heard Regula calling out to her.

#ask meme #long post #rp writing #garlean au

[libidomechanica]

Blast furnace, from whose lesson which my

For Henry wishd too much profanely, to  recall those leaues be shed, her  eye, had it not said thy edge should sicken from 

Iceland to Barbadoes, even  in the circles did the truth is  the ground-worms riot. When 

an heir is born with us,  or we die. Fed on the  straitend forehead of their several arts or 

parts ascendance oer themselues suffize, but  luckily I have none! An Eden of that  strove for that he wanted. 

The rosy couch:’“twas icy”, and  to bind us to the  bough, and when that something 

replete with flowers, wrapping  all the butt-ends of mechanics, and fause  that glory should Fate sic pleasure never lost. 

Shine out, little deeper exquisite, by a fore- knowledge absolute, subject  to no dispute from fools propound, when ’“

twas there. Both might; where seeing a  novice, knew not how to dress their foreheads  hoar: again my true spirit 

melt away and that whisper it  aside was—pardon the pedantic  boring me a curse, pickpockets, each hand 

lust of gain, in midst of  all paine hath end and euery part and many  poor excuses did show why I 

am sick of the Hall, maud with  the knives, the other,  a statesmen are ambition, why we 

need not see the naked stood, our  wood, that out and say it is so everyone  starves while dumb signs their figures 

wild of oer-head clouds together. The  fresh Spring the throng, — beautiful isnt it  to believed, the world, on wings 

impetuous some will speak the  truth, I have heard to mourn, and tingle, sunning  of the deep heart of Hero 

much materialisms a serious matter;  I have heard the same landscape  which that which he glowd, as purple 

and finger yours like a star, ‘twixt  night the captive, freedom and freeholds, in  a sort of Sabine showman. Saw 

the Pleiads, rising through such an air: however  quick itself, relaxed, its steamy  breath in arias of death let ours 

be for high contemplation  rather to fight; but we were  athirst in soul to tell in what 

high perplexing wastes, while I cannot lyfe  sustayne, then dazled were mine forever.  Bear up again, but heated, resolved 

coursers keen, whose shade of death is like  a globe may I term this, by which many subtle  gestures ensure your soul 

in mine, then ten times happy as a wave  that dances on the stars  go over the suns rich chariot at hand when 

first I bred, of those three  times of love and pleade in vain, heres no  key. No more soft, more endure on 

the crown with silvery enchantment  seen; once drinking and a father  takes in any curious dint that runneth 

often round. A young lieutenant, lies;’  my forces razde, thy banner, had baggd this poor endeavour,”  of late years, a ward connected 

in place ceased, and once she  striven to gaze, instead of pavement,  upon grass, an odour more divine, I must bury 

sorrow the way money burns. Decline  and half to the sky retire;  and this sad life closes 

with silver bugle, and when  I sigh, she said without a  word. The bravest cowers were it 

earth from ugly Chaos den upweighed. : Out  spake a dame in wrinkled streets your bright daylight  should kissing again in the 

honey-moon— but lothe the third upon  my radiant Heros ruddy cheekes  appeare, and on the beach I wander 

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 8 #187 texts