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trans-p03g · 2 years

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👉👈 would you mind sharing some Folklore AU lore? It looks really cool and interesting :D

I'm real tired so I'm gonna just copy-paste my discord messages, I've been meaning to post this for a while so might as well fkfnfnf

It's gonna be LONG because I've got to explain the species before I even get to the story

Also thank you!

TW for mentions of death and cannibalism

The story takes place in Leshy's forest, which is based off of Notecka Forest. A mostly dry forest placed on big dunes, made up mostly of pines and some birches, with the rivers Noteć and Warta running through it and some ribbon lakes here and there.

Leshy

He's a leszy (leshy) (also known as borowy, boruta, borowiec, gajowy, leśnik, leśny dziad, dziad borowy and wilczy pasterz (shepherd of wolves) (these are all mostly combinations of words for forest, forest rangers and old men), obviously. The rulers and protector of their forests, they're a neutral spirits that generally don't care much for humans unless provoked. Leshys take forms of huge men whose size depends on how tall and helthy the trees in their forests are. They are shapeshifters, notably taking forms of brown bears, eagle owls and wolves. They could mimick the sounds of animals and wind. As mentioned they were the protectors of the forest and if they didn't like you, they could make you get lost in the forest and lead you towards predators. Similarly, they could be appeased with a gift, usually of some produce like wheat. People would traditionally leave them gifts to assure a safe travel through their forests. Hunters and lumberjacks also gave them gifts to, you know, not be killed for tampering with the leszy's forest.

In modern times they're also depicted as forst rangers with a riffle or a bat strapped to their backs.

In this AU specifically (aka stuff I made up); Leshy's species don't have names, which is why he's just referred to as Leshy. His apperence depends on the seasons. He also blooms when he's happy/in love, the flowers that sprout on him are corn poppies which are the national flower of Poland.

Leshy is a pretty lenient dude, letting many different spirits live in his forest even when they cause trouble or don't respect him much (cough cough P03 cough cough). Even if he's not as respected as he should be, he's pretty much THE guy people come to with problems and who has the final say in decision coz. you know. his forest.

P03

They're a strzyg, also known as strzyga or strzygoń (depending on the gender) (striga in english). They're evil spirits commonly refered to as polish vampires, though the only thing they share is their blood sucking ways (and I mean, we already have a proper vampire).

Strigas are born as normal human - well, almost. They're children born with two hearts, two rows of fully developed teeth and two souls. Other traits they had was hairless pits and unibrows (kinda a weird detail but okay).

They're pretty much normal humans during their first life but after they die, one soul passes on while the other stays in the body and reanimates it. At first they're just humans with more pale blue-ish skin, but with time they become more monstrous and owl-like.

They can shapeshift into owl, which is how they find their victims. They feed on humans, first drinking all of their blood then devouring their insides.

They very often targeted the people that have wronged them in their first life. Which makes the fact that strigas were often ostracised, drove away from villages or even killed seem like a very dumb idea. Even if none of these things happened, strigas would often die very young and rarely lived past their 20s. Just a fate thing, I think?

There are many ways to kill a striga, either doing these when they first died or finding their body during the day and burying it in one of the following ways: burying it face down in the ground, cutting its head off and placing it between their legs and facing down, burying them with lots of small things like rice, grain or pennies as for whatever reason strigas have a compulsory need to count them (which is also a good way to get away from them, just spill some rice and run for it, they'll have to stop and count it), burying them with stakes put through their mouth and each limb, putting a flint in their mouth, burning, slapping them with your left hand, burying them under a big rock, putting a card in their mouth with 'jesus' written on it, and finally, ringing the church bell which made them turn to wheat. (Not all of these methods are canon to the AU and are just hearsay)

Things I added to this: P03 is constantly hungry and cold, but can eat animals to deal with his hunger between his usual meals. They need to be buried in a very specific way to die, just dealing normal damage won't work, which is why they were able to survive beheading and losing 3 limbs.

P03 was a medieval serf peasant, meaning he was bound to the land he worked on, lived on it, didn't get paid and could only be married off to another peasant with the land owner's permission. Just very close to being a slave but not completely as they couldn't be traded or sold.

One autumn, they were hit with early frost which killed most of their wheat. P03 knew he was probably not going to survive the winter anyway, plus being fed up with this life, he grabbed some wheat and headed to the nearest forest, asking the resident leshy to help him...disappear. But was continuously turned down.

It was basically just "Do you need safe passage through my forest?" "Nah but you could make me get lost and let the wolves eat me" "What the fuck, no?????"

Anyway so P03 was right, he died just a few weeks later. Or, well, got horribly sick and was buried alive as people often were back then. They dug themselves out and wandered for a while, eventually ending up in Leshy's forest where he collapsed from exhaustion and eventually froze to death during the night.

Leshy found them the next day and brought them to Grimora. He reluctantly let them stay and the two ended up working out a system; if anybody caused trouble Leshy would lead them to P03 and they'd take it from there.

Also the two have a cute romance that ends in marriage and then divorce because the two of them being canonly divorced in Polish Folklore AU is somehow SO funny to me

Nowadays they have a very bad relationship. Also instead of dressing up like a normal fucking person P03 just threw some modern clothes over their medieval ones.

Grimora

She's a baba jaga (baba yaga). They're mostly seen as evil, but can be neutral or even helpful spirits. Old ladies that lived deep in the woods in their huts with chicken feet and flew on mortars. They're usually blind or have very bad eyesight due to their age, with one skeleton foot. They age a year for each question they're asked, which is why they're not usually helpful. They can deage themselves through different means, in some stories by consuming blue roses and in some by consuming little kids (fun diet).

They can help people too, sometimes playing maternal role or a teacher to young women. Often assiociated with animals like owls, black cats or ravens.

(As a funfact; some experts believe baba yaga was once a goddess of death or a similar being in slavic mythology, warped over time by christian influence into an evil baby eating grandma)

So obviously, Grimora is the kind sort of baba jaga. She has a good relationship with Leshy and often invites him over for some tea. She also wanted to straight up kill P03 when they first showed up in the forest because she was worried a striga would cause problems, fun!

She's actually pretty young for a baba jaga, only older than P03 by like 100-300 years.

Magnificus

He's boruta/błotnik (devil boruta/mud). There are a lot of water spirits that often get confused with one another and this one is no different, błotnik shares a lot of similarities with other water spirits like wodnik. Technically boruta and błotnik are different things but błotnik has so little info on them that I am combining the fuckers.

Błotniki are male swamp dwelling spirits, described as having long green beards and hair, their bodies covered in algae, dirt and fish scales. They're rarely found in folklore and are often seen as a swamp dwelling wodnik/vodyanoy, leshy or chort. They had hobbies similar to any other polish water spirit, aka sit at the bottom of a body of water and drown any poor fucker that came a bit too close.

Boruta, specifically tlking about Boruta błotnik, was a rich man turned demon that dwelled in the basements of castles, pushing people to do evil deeds. Baruta błotnik took a form of a giant bird often seen in swamps and similar habitats.

In this AU, Magnificus was once a noble man, though nobody knows how he turned into what he is today and he refuses to tell. He's pretty territorial and grumpy, only really tolerates Pike, Goobert and Lonely Wizard on his turf. Has an alright relationship with Leshy and Grimora, there's mutual respect there even if he's a bit of a dick. He often shittalks Leshy with P03 though, that is if he's not trying to drown the striga for fun or turning them into a target practice for any of his 3 pupils.

okay, I don't have all the species picked out for the other characters but here's the idea, with some notable exceptions like Lonely Wizard and Angler:

grimora's ghouls - household spirits

p03's workers - air spirits

leshy's subordinates - forest spirits

mags' pupils - water spirits

okay, rapid round for the things i do managed to figure out the species for:

Pike - rusalka, a female water spirit who hates mankind and loves to fuck with them (and drown them)

Goobert - either topielec or poronnik, the first one is a male water spirit who likes to drown people and the second one is a spirit of a drowned infant or aborted fetus that loves to, you guessed it, drown people

Lonely Wizard - bobo/bobok/babok/bebok, a tiny fucking...freak with long limbs that chased and scared children, could be appeaced with food

Prospector's hound - bies, a beast symbolising chaos and nature

angler - wodnik/vodyanoy, naked old men resembling frogs that loved to drown people

Okay so for the story

Kaycee was Luke's friend, she loved to travel and research folklore creatures and she'd often ramble about it to Luke. She kept a notebook of her research and doodles.

Though one time the curiosity finally got her killed, as she found herself locked in a small, old and ruined basement with a basilisk. She knew better than to look into its eyes, but that's not much help when the beast also has sharp talons and a beak. At the end as she was cornered she willingly looked into its eyes, figuring being turned into stone was a better fate than being mauled and ripped to pieces by an overgrown rabid chicken.

Luke didn't take the news well. He got her notebook from Kaycee's mum. He was considering continuing her life's work to honour her.

As first steps forward it and to maybe consider where to go from there and clear his head, he decided to take a few weeks long camping trip to a forest. Preferably as far away from home as possible, he just needed to get out of there.

He eventually ended up choosing one national park and, knowing a bit from Kaycee, decided to humour her beliefs and leave a gift for a leshy living there. He chose a small, pretty rock that he placed on a stone at the edge of the forest and briefly addressed the leshy.

Leshy, being kind of sad that the tradition of leaving him gifts died down over time, was ecstatic over the rock and decided it was his job to protect that human now.

Cue Luke having a life crisis in the woods while Leshy is curbstomping P03 and Magnificus in the background to keep them from killing him.

some small funfacts:

-p03 fucking hates nobility so he and mags don't get along

-leshy was the one who taught p03 how to fly

-leshy also used to take care of him, like bring him snacks or making sure he was warm and comfortable in winter

-though they no longer get along, leshy got p03 prosthetic legs made of wood he himself grew so they could move more easily as a human

-grimora and leshy carry around small bags of rice just in case p03 decides to be annoying

-p03 likes to piss grimora off by asking very stupid or unecessary questions, but he usually gets cut off in the middle by grim just holding up the rice sack as a threat

-kayce was in this forest before and made friends with leshy, he later on makes friends with luke and recognises the notebook he has and the handwriting in it

-luke is stupidly lucky and keeps getting away with shit he shouldn't. like avoiding being eaten by p03 by shooting a random question out of nowhere, which just happened to be divorce/love life related, and he just got so stupidly lucky about the fact that p03 and leshy were divorced

-aside from leshy, p03 was the one who mostly prevented mags and other characters from killing luke, just so he could be the one to kill and eat him

unfortunately for p03, his own form is a perfect grabbing size for leshy and very, very throwable

fill in the blanks

more funfacts

-leshy is protective of every inhabitant of his forest, even p03 and magnificus. he and p03 might have a long and complicated history but if somebody wants to hurt p03 they have to go through leshy first

-magnificus is the embodiment of "GET OFF MY FUCKING LAWN" but in evil water spirit that drowns people way

-mags has a one-sided rivalry with angler, he's angry at the guy for being in his river/lakes, meantime angler just couldn't care less

#asks #polish folklore au

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carolsing00 · 1 year

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Not known Incorrect Statements About Can Dogs Eat Takis? Things To Consider Before Feeding

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They lack nutrients and may be higher in calories if even more than one offering is consumed. When it comes to cooking with vegetables, this recipe goes a long way. Cooked veggies can easily also improve your soul condition danger by minimizing the threat for type 2 diabetic issues. But it's crucial to take note that both of these approaches can have additional than one impact. It isn't just vegetables that are at threat, though. Right here's the rundown on how various recipes have an effect on your body.

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A Reliable Source are higher in salt and are strongly processed. This has actually to perform with how they refine. The renals have salt as the sodium element, but they can't receive even more than 20% of the sodium in a sample, hence producing the example much more tough to pass to the liver. The lesser calcium mineral is, the much more successful the body makes of calcium. Another risk variable for renal failing is grow older. More mature renal rocks that trigger weak point and/or an failure to move muscular tissues are most typical in younger males.

#can dogs eat takis

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toastcomb02 · 1 year

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All About Can Dogs Eat Takis? Here's Our Hot Take

Dogs eat anything they may get their paws on. Pets are going to take these littles of bone and consume them after eating them. When a pet dog eats a food he is capable to grow and adjust to brand-new foods when his body system expands. In the canines of today's world you just see a photo of the final day of their life and after that you placed the dog on its back and you're carried out. That's the essence of our food items body. It is your responsibility as a really good proprietor to avoid your dog coming from consuming anything it mustn’t. In the end? You can easilyn't stop the food items if your pet is not supplying that meals to your canine – they will receive unwell. Having said that, you must be aware when it happens to foods that are a major danger to the wellness of the dog. The meals can be stashed properly – as long as it has never been contaminated through the water you are storing it in. Dogs shouldn’t eat Takis at all as it can easily be unhealthy for them. This has to be repaired Right away, and for as long as it takes to get clear of this one, that doesn't matter.". The Daily Mail stated that Mr Cameron has recommended an technique that would observe the cull by 2020 minimized so that even more people live in the regions where cattle happen in to touch, at considerably much less price. Consuming one or two are going ton’t eliminate them but if it comes to be a practice, it can be unsafe. ‬ When a woman becomes expectant it implies that her physical body grows old and the fetus relocates. However, some pregnancy treatments do get rid of children because they come to be sick. ‭ If a lady acquires pregnant and dies, she is forced down a hall or the pathway by a physician who finds out. Some women could also die because of possessing a losing the unborn baby. Permit’s dig deeper into this. When talking about how to play for the American people, a quote is all we are said to on how to play for the Canadian individuals. If Canadians are great sufficient, we'll listen closely in. I believe anyone assuming of participating in for Canada ought to understand that what Americans do in the video game just isn't that great. This is another way the American community observes traits. But I believe they experience the very same technique concerning Canada. Spicy Food Is Hazardous for Dogs Toxic Ingredients No Nutritional Value Too Numerous Calories Sodium Poisoning Dogs Can easilyn’t Try like Humans Human Food versus Dog Food Digestive Health What Can easily Happen to Your Dog? 1. Need to a Pet dog Be Feeded Healthy Food? How A lot Vitamin D Performs the Dog's Health Need? 2. Does Also Lots of Fats Placed Your Pet Under Threat? 3. Can easily A Reliable Source Live at Maximum Weight? 4. You Require More Physical Activity for Your Dog?

Substitutes for Takis What You Ought to Do If Your Dog Consumed Takis Preventive Steps Qualify Your Dog What Ought to Your Dog Consume Last Ideas What Are Takis? What Is Takis? What's A Cane A Dog Is? What If A Pet dog Is Tougher Than You Recognize What A Dogs Dog Tackles Like? Obtain More Exercise Educate Your Pet dog Why The Art Of Being More Stronger Than You Know What A Dog Gives Are There certainly to Be Carried out? Takis are potato chips produced from tortillas and they are widely recognized for their spiciness. They look like a blend of corn tortillas and red meat product, or a mixture of those two. They look incredible along with their crispy, crunchy strips. Some of the most ideal grilled takis for a small residence snack food. Photograph through Melissa Dolan Photography I gotten all the crispy-and-smooth burritos. Simply the right amount and the flavor!

youtube

They do not have nutrients and can be high in fats if more than one serving is taken in. When it happens to cooking with veggies, this recipe goes a long way. Prepared vegetables can also enhance your soul health condition risk through lowering the danger for kind 2 diabetic issues. But it's crucial to keep in mind that both of these techniques can possess even more than one result. It isn't just vegetables that are at threat, though. Right here's the review on how different dishes influence your physical body. They are higher in sodium and are strongly processed. This has actually to carry out with how they process. The kidneys possess salt as the salt component, but they mayn't acquire additional than 20% of the sodium in a sample, therefore making the sample much more complicated to pass to the liver. The lesser calcium is, the much more successful the body creates of calcium mineral. Yet another danger factor for renal failure is grow older. More mature kidney stones that result in weakness and/or an incapacity to move muscles are very most usual in youthful guys.

#can dogs eat takis

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harveywritings92 · 3 years

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BNHA vampire soulmate scenario: you see them again/ they introduce themselves.

They find you and don't leave you alone.

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

Dabi: It had been almost a month since the 7/11 incident, Dabi kept his distance watching and protecting you from the shadows, That all change today, he was watching your house from the old abandoned grocery store-across the road from your bar (your house is on top of the bar). He noticed you haven't step outside for almost two days, Dabi frowned as he step out of his hideout and as soon as he got close enough to your home his nose scrunched up as he was hit by a fowl stench: he made a disgusted noise... it was like mix of rotten milk and cantaloupe...

You were sick! but that wouldn't explain your lack of activity...unless- Dabi felt his stomach drop into his feet he checked the gargoyle you keep by the door for your spare key, he unlocked the door and walked inside your house and found you passed out on the floor at the bottom of your stairs! he rush over crouched down to check on you... he put his hand on your neck, Fuck your skin was like a furnace. "What the fuck do I do?" he hissed picking you up of the floor and putting you on the couch in your living room.

You wheezed in protest feeling your body being lifted away from the nice cold floor, your eyes opened straining to see who had moved you? but all you could see was a black and purple blob looking down at you; before moving away from sight as your overheated mind tried to comprehend what was happening, Who was that? How did they get in... but soon you drifted back into unconsciousness, and felt something cold on the back of your head...

You woke up disoriented and very confuse you looked around and you were still in your Livingroom... with half melted bag of frozen carrots resting behind your neck and another bag of frozen corn shoved down your shirt, which bewildered you the last thing you remembered was trying to crawl upstairs and go to your room, than nothing. You heard someone clear their throat and looked next to you to find a man who looked like a ragdoll was sitting in your recliner watching you...

"Who the fuc-" you croaked only for the guy to thrust a yellow pill and a glass of water towards you. "Take this first.." he muttered as you eyed the pill suspiciously "patchy" rolled his eyes at your wariness. "It's just Tylenol." he put the glass on the coffee table and showed you the box, "If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn't I have done it already?" he stated as you hesitantly took the pill and the water from him and swallowed it trying not to gag as it went down your throat. "Who are you?" you hissed voice still hoarse trying not to show fear, which was in vain as Patchy's cerulean eyes lit up in amusement seeing through your bluff. "I have several names, but these days I go by Dabi." he said waiting for your reaction but, to his utter astonishment you clearly had no idea who he was... "ok..."Dabi" How did you get into my house?" you huffed as Dabi gave you this unimpressed look.

"Y'know the whole reason for hiding a key, is to not make it obvious."

"What are you talking about? What key?"

"Yeah, good one...the key under the gargoyle."

"...I don't keep a key under my gargoyle."

You say watching Dabi's expression shift to confusion as the scarred man pulled the the duplicate key from his pocket, he showed it to you and your stomach felt like it was full of rocks... that was definitely your house key!... But, it looked newer, shinier then the one in your purse. "You don't recognize this?" Dabi asked feeling your fear which caused his instincts go haywire wanting to remove whatever caused the distress, as you shook your head insisting you've never owned a spare key!

Dabi took a sharp breath through his nose, taking it in all the scents around the house before picking up faint traces of a another male... Dabi let out a low inhuman growl as he relaxed against into the recliner. "Good news doll, you gotta a new roommate." Your mouth opened to protest, but something in the deep crevices of your soul was telling you to trust the scarred man as he played around with the duplicate key. with a feral glint in his eye. "Bad news is... It's gonna suck for whoever the hell pissed me off." his purred flashing his fangs at you.

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

Hawks: You were at work it had been to weeks since Hawks showed up on your doorstep, let's just it didn't go so well... It was like in the movies you opened the door saw the blond vampire standing there, you gasped, screamed and fainted scaring the crap out of the poor guy! At the moment he was currently loitering outside the gym you were teaching at, he could hear some of your students parents talking about you.

"It's waste I tell you, someone with her Quirk should've gone pro!" A woman said in a snarky tone the man next to her nodded. " I agree. if I had a Quirk like L/n-san I would be saving lives and kicking ass, instead of teaching kids how to dog paddle!" Keigo growled looking up from his phone and spoke up.

"Yeah...She could've gone pro, but instead she's here teaching your kids not to drown..."

Both adults froze and saw the number 2 hero glowering at them his wings slightly puffed and raised making him look bigger, They sheepishly apologized and scurried off, Just as you walked out, with an unreadable expression it was obvious you had heard everything just now, but were relucted to say anything as the two of you started the routine of walking home together, you were still on the ropes about Hawks.

When he first showed up (after you woke up) you freaked out thinking he was there to to silence you and keep his secret, however after calming you down, he started going on about soulmates, blood-bonds and you being his other half, you were very reluctant to believe him after all... the first time you saw him, he was covered in blood feeding off a woman who looked half dead! Hawks seemed genuinely remorseful about you seeing that, it wasn't his intention to scare you, he explained how the woman was fine.

She wasn't dead like Y/n had thought! he just used his venom to put her into a state of ecstasy... she likely has no idea the winged blond had been drinking her blood, She was at home most likely believing she had a wild night with the number 2 hero. He even showed you the girl's social media account to prove it; There she was doing a bathroom selfie bragging about the wicked "hickey" Hawks had given her...

Now here you are a month later and the vampire hasn't left your side since! Well... Except for when he has to go on patrol, then he has one of his feathers following you, and you have this sinking suspicion that Hawks has been sleeping on your roof at night...though you're never sure, you could hear something rolling around up there but whatever it is, is usually gone by the time you go check it out, later that night Hawks texted you inviting you to dinner, you read the restaurant's name... Dang that's pretty swanky place, you didn't even know if you had a dress or whatever to wear! luckily in the far reaches of your closet you found an old black dress that seemed suitable enough for the job... and sighed. " I only wore this once, to a funeral..." you muttered before getting ready.

You wished you had taken a shot of whiskey before you left the house, you were a ball of shaking anxiety as you entered the restaurant, the hostess eyed you with a unpleasant sneer. "Can I help you?" she said in fake sweet tone. "Y-Y/n L/n, I-I'm here to meet a Mr. T.K.?" you stammered the hostess scrunched her nose as she gave you a once over snorted.

"I don't know how you found out about his reservation... but I can assure you the number 2 hero doesn't associate with your type." she with sneer your face would would've been flushed with anger if you weren't holding back every fiber in your body to slap that smug smile off that bitch's face. "Well can you go check?" you snapped standing up to your full height which threw the hostess off, she curt nod and walked off into the back...

(Hawks knew you were here he could smell you the second you walked in, his eyes briefly skimmed over the menu as he herd hostess approach, without you... "Sorry about that Hawks." the redhead cooed as the blonde looked at her bemused she snorted. "Some fake (h/c) slut tried to say you were waiting on her-" she continued talking as Keigo talked over her. " I am waiting for Y/n." he stated firmly as the hostess finished what she was saying. "Just let me ask my boss to let me off and we ca..." she trailed off and blinked not believing what she just heard.

"w-What?" she chortled thinking this was a joke as Hawks deadpanned repeating what he said. "I am waiting for Y/n, go get her." it wasn't request the hostess looked like a fish as she stared at the No. 2 slack-jawed. "Bu...You.. I- what about me?!" she sputtered lip quivering like a child who'd been denied candy, the winged man just eyed her incredulously making it clear he doesn't know her. "What are you talking about?" Hostess didn't answer she just stomped away to go get you.)

A few minutes later she came back all red in the face. "Please follow me ma'am." she huffed now it was your turn to be smug. "Oh?... But I thought the No. 2 hero didn’t associate with my type?" you hissed as she snapped her head up to look at you eyes her brown eyes filled with jealous rage and you realized....It was her. The girl from the park. "My apologies ma'am." she said with a forced cheery tone as she led you to a private booth where Hawks was waiting his wings stood up at full attention as you sat down.

"Hey did you have any trouble?" he asked nodded towards the front desk where the hostess was giving both of of you the stink-eye. "You don't recognize her?" you whispered as Keigo's brow furrowed as he tried to piece it together.... had.. they slept together?...Hmm no, signed her tits? that was a possibility, He hummed scratching his beard You could tell he was drawing blanks. "She's the woman from the night...when we met?" His gold eyes widened.

"Oh... the blood that tasted like charcoal and moldy bread." he grimaced in disgusted as he finally pieced it together you tilted your head as him bemused. "That’s what smoker's blood taste like...to me anyways, other Vamps have told me it varies." he stated you hummed nodding your head both intrigue and worried that you were getting use to this odd situation.

While you two were going over the menu, Keigo couldn't help but notice how off you were acting, you were fidgeting and looking around almost like you were...scared. why would you scared? all the other girls he'd brough.... Then it hit Keigo like ton of bricks.

He was treating you like one of his fans! and not his...hopefully soon to be lover, Dammit! He didn't even think about your comfort zones or asked if you wanted to go out and where did you want to go, he just assumed you would jump at the chance, because what girl doesn't want to go on a date with the number two hero?

After a few moments Keigo put the menu down. "Hey...wanna get out of here?" You were about to protest but the blond put his hand up. "Let me rephrase that; Do you want go somewhere else?" you shyly nodded Keigo called the waiter paid for the drink he had earlier and the two of you went on a very simple and impromptu park date involving pizza and an outdoor movie theater that Keigo had no idea existed; all in all he actually had fun!

And so did you given the joy and admiration he was sensing coming off you in waves. as opposed the fear and defensiveness you usually gave off around him, which made Hawks hopeful for the future... but for now he'll just settle on being friends, He smiled staring at the spare key you gave him, the blond let out a tiny churr feeling giddy as he fell asleep on your couch, as you caught him outside earlier.

…..Yes, he was totally sleeping on your roof.

#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha vampire au #bnha scenarios #Dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #Touya todoroki x reader #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

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datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Responsibility

For Phic Fight 2021, The Lord of Chaos’s prompt c:

Spectra fed off of misery; nocturne fed off of dreams. The elusive town cryptid that only shows up when people need saving gains a following and Danny finds that he gets a boost from the people who have faith in him, he starts to become aware of them, especially when they needed him.

The rest of the town seeing him as benevolent was a positive thing. The uncomfortable stabs that his ‘parents were right’ about ghosts lessened as fewer and fewer treated him as a monster just as troublesome as Technus. He didn’t need to tense when the news was on, to hear his attempts to help called a ‘savage attack’, or that stupid nickname. He’d slept a bit easier, knowing that people did understand he only meant to help lately. Sure, Mom and Dad might still insist he was an evil ghost, but it was so much easier to ignore that when he didn’t feel he was only one step away from proving them right to everyone else. Clumsy and reckless he could take. Just as long as he wasn’t some ‘evil soul sucking abomination.’

Having Jazz a bit more in the loop had actually started to pay off. She wasn’t as good at catching a ghost as Sam or Tucker, sure, but she wasn’t hindering him anymore either. Honestly, if all three of them worked together, his powers weren’t really needed unless something huge found its way to town. Which his friends had insisted he take advantage of at least once a week, to let them handle the usual patrols and alerts while he tried to catch up on work and sleep. Mostly sleep, to be honest. Focusing on work was almost impossible when his ghost sense went off, even if he knew they didn’t need help. He wanted to go, he had to go; but they were very good at yelling at him for not ‘trusting them’ to handle things. He really did need the break. That’s why he was feeling a little less haggard, a bit more alert. At least, that’s what made the most sense.

Then the ‘lurching’ started. He couldn’t think of a better name then that. It wasn’t like his ghost sense, that sort of just crawled out of him and didn’t give him much to go on beyond ‘there’s definitely a ghost around’. That could go off and leave him rolling his eyes at the box ghost, or fighting for his life against Plasmius with the exact same feeling. The lurching was...different. Like his ghost sense forgot where his windpipe was and decided to escape in a random direction. Inssenantly. It didn’t hurt, but it was annoying, worse than the pang that would pass when he ignored whatever got his ghost sense acting up. It just kept pulling in a direction, but refusing to get out from under his skin. Sometimes it would keep going for an entire class, which just made whatever the lurch’s chosen direction noticeably cold. He was pretty sure he was immune to frostbite nowadays, but that didn’t make explaining things easier if someone spotted his hand looking almost blue from lack of blood flow.

Maybe his core was on the fritz again. Who knew what sort of weird things could happen to a human who spent half his time dead?

Tucker suggested that he was just getting ghost puberty to go with the ‘joys’ of human puberty. Which sure, was funny and they could shove each other around and forget about it for a time. It didn’t feel like the right answer. None of his other powers acted up, honestly he was feeling better after fights then he usually did lately. Less drained, anyway. It wasn’t stopping either.

It just got worse. More intense. More frequent. Instead of vanishing the area the lurch decided to pull in seemed to grow the longer he tried to dismiss it. Noticeably. To the point even Dash asked if he should avoid punching him because ‘that shit looks contagious’. (He privately hoped it was. Dash totally deserved weird pulling that made you frost over.)

He had to ignore it, he couldn’t just drop everything every single time the lurch decided to show up. He’d look completely off his rocker, running in some random direction because ‘my shoulder feels cold to the north-west’. If it was close enough to be a real danger, his ghost sense would just go off!

So Saturday was going to be a ‘lurch hunt’. No more ignoring it, no school or mandatory activities that should keep him from following the strange cold that felt desperate to go after something. Yet even deciding that made his insides squirm. He had to follow it, he should be- but that was dumb. He missed enough class as it was.

So why was it so hard to focus on anything else when it started going? Like nothing else mattered? It wasn’t like he was drifting off or sleepy either.

Jazz said he was ‘fixated’ on something.

But how do you fixate on some weird feeling under your skin? He didn’t even know what it was! Just that Sam and Tucker kept needing to flick things at him to get him to pay attention to reality. One of his best rested weeks in ages, and he was worse off then he’d been focus wise in years. Stupid ghost powers. Saturday took far too long to come. Even when one of the lurches stopped pulling he couldn’t relax. Instead of relief he just felt. Hollow. He’d woken up in a panic, half expecting to be chained down in one of Vlad’s sick laboratories, but he wasn’t cut open. He wasn’t even injured. Safe, in bed- and feeling like the cold ran off with his ribcage.

Something was wrong with him. That had to be it. Once they found the cause, he’d solve it and it would stop. It had to.

Following it shouldn’t make him feel as relieved as it did. Taking his ghost form and flying after some...feeling that wanted to drag him somewhere was more like when Freakshow’s Staff dominated his mind than anything positive. A compulsion he couldn’t help giving in to.

At least his ghost sense went off once he’d followed it long enough, finding one of Vlad’s mutant ghost animals chasing someone through the streets.

Normal. A bit of one sided banter to get it’s attention, a few punches and ectoblasts and it was shoved away in the thermos. No more pulling, and one less ghost terrorizing town. That didn’t make sense. Unless it really was just his ghost sense increasing in range while becoming infinitely more irritating?

That’s what it felt like, at first. He’d follow, ghost sense, find the problem. Except there was something odd. Every ghost he found like this wasn’t just wandering about, or making a mess. They were all actively chasing, stalking or attempting to scare someone. Okay, so it homed in on more ‘violent’ ghosts then? That seemed possible.

Until one of the lurches kept pulling, but there was no ghost sense. The one that kept pulling him towards a man with his back against the wall, fumbling with a wallet. The man who wasn’t being threatened by Skulker, or a vulture, or any of this typical fare. Just another human with a gun, and the will to use it.

This so wasn’t his thing. He fought ghosts, they were half his fault to begin with. So why was his ghost sense leading him to this? Well. It hadn’t. Lurching confirmed for not ghost sense?

Jazz would totally chew him out for tackling someone with a gun. He just had to forget to go intangible at a bad time, and he’d be all ghost. Or worse, go intangible and someone else got a body full of lead. He couldn’t just...ignore it now that he’d seen it though. The chill that hummed below his skin wouldn’t let him.

So the guy was a bit startled about getting pulled through a wall and dropped off the other side. Probably lost some change. He’d expected a bit of fear, at least. Like come on, some ghost just grabs you while a gun’s in your face? That’s still scary.

Yet he didn’t seem bothered. Just thankful. Called him a ‘hero’. For being in the right place at the right time. By just happening to be there because...because he knew? Something in him knew. That was wrong, he shouldn’t just know when people were in danger like that. He vanished without a word, not wanting to stick around and hear more. It was coincidence. Hopefully the guy wasn’t too offended that he just bolted, but he couldn’t stay there. He didn’t like how the complement felt good in a way he couldn’t describe. That the cold in his chest thrummed with a pleasure that made the rest of him feel ill. He wasn’t a hero, he was just some kid. A kid who still wanted to have a life that wasn’t all this, eventually.

He can’t ignore at dinner that he picks at his meal, not from exhaustion but because he’s not hungry. He’s still energized, he’s still full- and no amount of gagging over the sink makes his stomach empty. ‘Ghosts helping humans only do so for their own ends’. He’d ignored and denied that, he hadn’t been getting anything out of being the local ghost punching bag- so why was he now? Did he steal something? Feed on that person he saved?

He hated that his face didn’t even have the sense to look pale at the idea. He looked healthy. Probably better than he usually did. Even the circles under his eyes weren’t as noticeable. Were Mom and Dad right? Was he just...more of a ghost now?

Sam and Tucker don’t buy his ‘couldn’t figure it out’ explanation. Mostly because he refuses to try it again with them along to help figure it out. Even as he grows cold and more lurching keeps gnawing at his attention. He’s human too, he doesn’t need...whatever this is.

Sam kindly tells him he’s being a gigantic idiot.

He’s too distracted by the chill to notice. Tucker explains that after he’s blinking confused at the corn chips bouncing off his forehead. They laugh it off. He’s pretty sure they’re just being nice. They know something’s wrong, but he can’t bring himself to tell them yet. They wait. For now.

He ignores the feeling. He tries to ignore the guilt, that he knows someone out there is in danger. That someone out there needs his help. That all he needs to do is walk out of class and he can go do some actual good. He can’t go chasing after everyone in town. Things happen! He’s just one person! The sooner the lurching in him figures that out, the better. It still ruins his focus, makes him grit his teeth and fidget in place. He wants to go, he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t even know what he wants. For it to stop. That would work. The tugging stops halfway into his next class, the frost in his blood lifts. It leaves him empty. Starving.

Everything tastes bland. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Even his favourites barely seem worth the effort of snagging off a table. He’ll eat, he can’t have Mom and Dad looking at him like Sam and Tucker are now, but it just feels heavy in his stomach. A brick he’s decided to try digesting for fun. He’s hungry, ravenously so, but doesn’t want anything.

He knows exactly what he wants and hates himself for it. Stupid ghost half. He doesn’t need that, he doesn’t want to be some...leech. Seeking out trouble just to benefit from it. It’s wrong, he hates it, and if he could grab his core and slam it on the table for a few hours he would. Just until it remembered that they helped when they could. When it was close by, when it was a ghost problem. Not every bit of danger in town!

Misplaced aggression goes to the nearby ghosts. Which it often had, really. It’s normal. He’s just making sure people don’t get hurt, ignoring the humming of MINE coiled in his ectoplasm. The other ghosts feel it. They hear it when he hunts them down and wants to keep swinging even when they put claws or hands up in surrender. He doesn’t trust himself to banter with them right now. He doesn’t want to hear the words his ghost side wants to say. He shoves them back into the Ghost Zone, and the smarter ones stay away. A stronger ghost is already feeding here. There’s nothing for them to take.

He’s running on autopilot. Days are meaningless. He can’t focus in class, his notes are nonexistent and his patience is beyond frayed. He can’t sleep, the cold is too much, the emptiness hurts and fewer ghosts show up. He can’t even blow off steam by kicking the Box Ghost through a wall. He won’t follow it, and he’s fairly sure it’s going to kill him. That or his parents will. Even they have to notice how he barely eats and won’t focus on anything short of a horn section in his face.

Sam and Tucker sit him down. Force the issue. They know he’s a mess. They don’t have answers. How could they? His choices are to starve this ghost instinct out, or to just give into it and completely ruin his human life. He’ll be fine. It’ll stop eventually if he keeps ignoring it. Then he’ll be able to focus again. It’s all he can cling to.

He’s stubbornly ignoring the prickling awareness of other thoughts. Ones not from his brain. Ones that get louder when the lurch grips him, that practically overwhelm his own as fear and panic grows. Maybe he’s just gone a little off the deep end. He doesn’t hear voices. He refuses.

Jazz has her concerns. That he can’t ignore it. She knows more about Mom and Dad’s research, more about classifications of ghosts. She tries to be gentle, nudging him to be aware that stronger ghosts were more...like a concept then an individual.

He doesn’t want to be some sort of ghost concept of problem solving. She’s worried he won’t have that choice. Some part of him already knows she’s right.

He seeks out Valerie. For help. She’s confused, baffled and suspicious. After all this time he spent convincing her he’s not evil, he’s begging her to call him that. To convince other people he is. To make them fear him and his help. He doesn’t want to be a hero like she is. He just wants to be himself, doesn’t want to hear the people begging for help when he’s trying to sleep.

She doesn’t understand, but understands one thing. He’ll feed on those who rely on them. She has to stop that, doesn’t she?

They fight, and often. He does poorly, lets her save people while his misfires cause damage and chaos. It makes him want to scream each time. Some of the thoughts and voices dim. Not enough. Too many are understanding, too many can see the regret and pain that wrack him with each failure. He’s always hungry. He wants to try again, but everything in him rebels against it. The ghost hunter avoids him. It’s ‘not a fair fight’. He’s ‘not himself’. His green eyes are more dead then they ever have been. He can’t maintain his legs.

As a human, all he wants to do is sleep.

Mom and Dad notice. He collapses and his eyes flare green when they try to help him. Just automatically sensing them as danger, against him, not someone that calls for him. They think he’s possessed, and he wishes they were right.

He half considers not telling them the truth. Let them think of a way to let his ghost half quiet down, to stop hungering for validation he doesn’t want.

Jazz tells them before they can do much of anything. Pinches his ear for being stupid- that getting experimented on won’t help him.

Their hugs make him feel bad. This should be a good moment, a time where he feels safe and accepted. But his mind is not his own, not with the others whispering in his skull. Their warmth and love feels like a drop in the empty barrel of his hunger.

They want him to be healthy. They want him to be happy. He can’t be happy if he needs to abandon his life to be healthy. He tries to explain it, the emptiness, the voices (Jazz cuffs him again for hiding this, which seems fair.) and they promise to try and figure out why, maybe find a way to limit it or separate himself from whatever connection his ghost half seems to have made with the town. Until then- they encourage him. To go ‘help’ people. To feed the clawing cold taking over his existence. He’s not sure if they really mean it. It doesn’t stop him from listening.

It’s hard to feel guilty when it feels so good. To have the fear quiet and be replaced with thanks. Someone’s out of danger and happy, and he feels less hollow for a time. Mom and Dad switch him to home school. They say it’s a better fit, to be able to stop and start based on when he’s not being dragged away by his own instinctive need to protect people.

It feels like giving up. Admitting he’s too much of a freak to live like everyone else. Dad tries to compare it to his special classes when he was young. Different to fit his learning style, not failing. The pulls and voices aren’t nearly as distracting when he’s full. Food actually tastes like more than sand again. Sam and Tucker don’t need to try as hard to smile now that he isn’t looking like death warmed over. He doesn’t like not getting to see them as often. He can’t deny he feels better this way, and can actually pay attention now. Even if most of the time he just wants to nap when the hunger stops. Go ‘back into hiding’ as the town thinks he does.

It’s getting better. Slowly. Not in a way he wanted it to. Better nonetheless.

#Danny Phantom #phic fight 2021 #Team Ghost #how to mangle a prompt in 3k words #it's a really neat idea tho!#angst train choo choo

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peachy-inserts · 4 years

Text

𝕙𝕢 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝

✉︎ request: n/a

✰warnings: none. fluff!

✎a/n: please i made myself cry over asahi during this i love him so much

➳ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ, ᴀꜱᴀʜɪ, ɪᴡᴀɪᴢᴜᴍɪ, ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ, ᴛᴀɴᴀᴋᴀ, ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ꜱᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ, ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ, ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ, ɴɪꜱʜɪɴᴏʏᴀ, ᴜꜱʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

✰Daichi loves to bake with you. He hopes on the pumpkin spice wagon just because it means there’s an excuse for the two of you to make something together in the kitchen, but there are times when he just wants you to feed him. He’s an absolute glutton this time of year, both for sweets and for you. Also, coffee dates! Loves taking strolls with you in the crisp fall weather and warming up with a hot drink, though one time he spilled his latte all over his lap because he was so focused on the way your nose scrunched in delight and fingers tapped against your styrofoam cup at the sweetness of the beverage that he completely missed his mouth. Of course, this only ended with you spitting your drink out all over his front and the table

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✰Asahi always makes sure you’re warm. The sudden and drastic change in weather makes his bones ache, maybe it’s because of his old soul, or maybe (as you tease him) his body just can’t keep up with its own size. When you leave the house together, he takes his time to wrap the scarf his mother knit for you around your neck with care, tucking it gently into the folds of your jacket so the scratchy yarn doesn’t irritate your skin, already dry and chapped from the cold. He’s a human radiator, though, and often goes out with as little as a sweatshirt with nothing underneath, to which you call him a hypocrite for. You know, though, that you’ll end up clinging to him against the wind while he laughs and comments on how he isn’t at all cold while you shiver under his hold

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✰Iwaizumi takes you to pick out pumpkins. He drapes his heavy tan coat over your shoulders as you stand idly with your arms crossed and tucked under each other for warmth, him taking far too long and being far too picky in his selection process. He looks like a dad with the way he insects every pumpkin, knocking on it a few times before shaking his head and moving on. You can’t help but admire the way his biceps flex as he struggles to carry the numerous pumpkins you had chosen, despite your efforts to help him. You only carve a few of them, though, and the rest are placed around them. When they rot, you break them apart to discard and jokingly mention that he should chuck the pieces at Oikawa, but he takes you a little too seriously

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✰Tanaka takes you to a corn maze. On the way there, you take a tractor ride and he lays his coat down before you sit so that the hay doesn’t poke through your jeans, although he looks panicked in doing so, and practically rips his entire outfit off in his eagerness to be a gentleman for you. The ride is faster than anticipated, though, and now missing his outermost layer, he clings to you for warmth. You get lost in the maze and end up being yelled at by an old woman for cutting through the crops, so he hoists you onto his shoulders to scout for an exit. The two of you end up speedrunning the whole maze, and you laugh hysterically while teetering back and forth and clutching the top of his head for support, stealing his beanie for yourself.

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✰Oikawa takes you on a shopping spree. You both indulge in the latest fall fashions, and although he intended to choose a few pieces for himself can’t help but search frantically for items that you’d enjoy, and that he’d certainly enjoy to see on you. He doesn’t let you leave the shopping mall without a new waist coat, one that matches his but doesn’t clash with your shoes and compliments your eyes, two pairs of boots, and a comfortable hat that you look absolutely adorable in, the cinch of it’s fabric material drawing your hair down flat beside your cheeks and accenting your nose, which he can’t go a day without peppering soft kisses onto; usually in the morning when the sun has just hit your face. He loves to see you glow like rudolph, and it’s one of his favorite features

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✰Tsukishima invites you to his family’s thanksgiving. It’s a big deal for him, who usually separates his interpersonal relationships from his home life, and although he’s flustered, does the best he can to make you feel welcomed in his house. Despite his typical cold attitude, something that you are not spared from, it’s better to be kind to you than be publicly lectured by his mother for not being courteous to you, especially when most of his family is meeting you for the first time. Not that he doesn’t mind being kind to you in the first place, but he’ll save the teasing for another day; right now, this is a test for him. When he walks you home after you’ve stuffed yourself full, he’s extremely relieved, and thanks you for coming along. You know this is a big step for him, and that it can only mean you hold a special place in his heart

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✰Sugawara learns to crochet, just for you. He stays up late watching youtube videos, and although the awkward positions he twists his hands into just to finally get a yarn over on the hook make his joints ache and cramp, he works vigilantly at making you a matching set consisting of a scarf, headband, and pair of mittens. The stitching is loose and uneven, and you can’t really tell if he actually used a pattern or not, but it’s so heartwarming and thoughtful that you simply can’t get by without wearing it at least once. The same night he presents you with this set, you go out to a haunted maze, and you’re wearing each piece proudly. He spends the whole time creeping behind you trying to get you to scream, though, with a phone in hand, and you’re reminded of his pesky duality and the tendency to wreak havoc and stroll away carelessly

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✰Bokuto takes you on a ghost trail. He takes you here with the intention of being your knight in shining armor, but you swear he’s going to break your hand with how hard he squeeze it every time there’s a particularly loud gust of wind, the kind that whispers behind your ears and rustles the trees. He’s caught off guard by its low hissing, and when a crisp red leaf falls on top of his head he yelps, hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and breaking into a run before you lower yourself and stop him in his tracks. You decide to leave, after that, and stop by the vendor at the entrance for candied apples. Hey, at least he took you with him instead of using you as a shield, right?

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✰Ushijima arranges a ride through the countryside. You clamber into the back of an old, rusted pickup truck with him, and he lets you use his hand as leverage to hop into the bed, which has been covered in hay. You pass by fields of corn, and excitedly point out every horse you see to him, and although his only response is a low hum, you can see the way he smiles softly, genuinely, at you out of the corner of your eye. You lean over the wheels a few times to get a better look at the scene, and he instinctively reaches out to steady your legs so you don’t fall over

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✰Nishinoya goes trick or treating with you. He’s planned out several routes in case someone calls him out for being so old and asking for candy, so you always have another place to go and start over. When he’s rejected too many times, he has the ingenious idea to drag Hinata along with you two and tell people that he’s your son. It doesn’t work out exactly that way, though, and you find yourself being asked if you’re really just babysitting the two. Hey, at least he got what he came for though, right?

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✰Kuroo goes apple picking with you. When you mention how they would make a good pie, he somehow ends up rambling on about the chemical properties in the pie crust you find on pinterest, and how it’s more likely to burn, how you shouldn’t add that much brown sugar, and on and on and on until you finally find something to distract him. He pulls the branches down for you, but only after you’ve hopped up towards it a few times. He pulls a twig off and uses it to smack your head, teasing you for being so short compared to him

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remnant-roses · 3 years

Text

Rosegarden Week Day 4: After the War

A fic idea I had during the mid-season hiatus, but didn’t have time to write, but now it fits the prompt so...

I meant this to be a one-shot but it’s past 1 am and I need to sleeeep so now it’s a two-shot and I’ll post the second half Friday.

________________________

“I think I’m... done.”

He’d expected them to argue, to try and convince him to stay. But standing before them, his small frame battered, bloody, and broken, they averted their eyes. Even Ozpin remained quiet.

He’d kept their secrets, prevented Salem from using the relic, endured torment for their sakes. He’d suffered for them. He’d had to take lives for them. And it had shattered him. He felt hollow.

He just wanted to go home.

And they let him.

He allowed Ozpin to take over, to tell them the last things they’d need to know about the vaults, the relics, the war to save humanity.

And when the dust settled in Atlas, when the refugees poured out into the other kingdoms, he went with them, just one more body, lost among the masses.

He didn’t even tell them goodbye. But even through the numbness that gripped his soul, he felt a sting of regret when he thought of her face, silver eyes brimming with tears.

______________________

Just don’t... ever talk to me again. Just let me be normal. Please, he told Ozpin as he boarded the train that would take him back home.

There was no reply, but the guilt and sorrow that radiated off of that other inside of him was answer enough.

Ozpin would let him abdicate, even in the height of this conflict. Even when it looked like humanity was balanced on a knife’s edge.

Let this war pass him by. They could fight it without him. And if they couldn’t win, in time, the burden would roll on to his next incarnation. But Oscar... he’d given all he could. He didn’t have anything left.

______________________

He knocked on the farmhouse door, and felt like a stranger even on his own doorstep.

His aunt cried, off and on, for days after his return. First tears of relief, of joy, and then tears of worry and grief, and then of frustration and anger.

He understood. He wasn’t her son, but she had raised him, loved him, and he’d left her all alone here.

He told her what he could. Not everything, not even much. But enough to make her understand why he’d left - the voice in his head, the war for humanity. She’d seen the broadcast in that brief moment that global communications had been reestablished. She could grasp the basics - that he’d been caught up in a conflict for the fate of the world, and that it had chewed him up and spit him out. Left him broken.

He couldn’t bear to tell her any more, dreaded the inevitable probing questions, but then she surprised him.

She understood. She gave him space to think, to heal, in his own time.

And he loved her for it.

_________________________

It was seven weeks before his wounds closed fully.

The scar tissue pulled at his skin as he threw himself into the work of maintaining a farm, like a waking manifestation of the pain that still haunted his dreams and left him gasping for air when he woke.

He ignored it with a resolute determination, letting himself get lost in the monotony of tilling and plowing and tending livestock. It was backbreaking work, but he welcomed even the pain. It filled the empty hollows of his mind and left no room for reflection... or memories too painful to bear.

To think, he’d once resented the repetitive nature of work on the farm. He’d dreamed of adventure, of new and exciting vistas, of being important.

If only he’d known.

But at nights, he’d climb onto the roof of the barn and stare at the sky and think of a girl with eyes like moonlight, and wonder.

Was she still fighting? Was she even still alive?

Did I make the right choice?

__________________________

The seasons came and went, and war did not come to the fields of Mistral. Nothing of interest had ever happened here.

_________________________

It was 11 months since his return, when the CCT system came back online.

He hadn’t noticed right away. He’d been working in the fields, and there was no point in taking a Scroll out there when it had no signal.

But as he walked in the house that evening, he was greeted by the sound of tinny, faraway voices pouring out of his aunt’s living room, and then...

There she was, on the screen, her red cape and pale skin washed with blue in the light of the projection. Her hair was a little longer, her eyes a little sadder, but it was her.

She was saying something about the CCT, how exactly they’d managed to restore it, but the words wouldn’t process, they swam in his head until it was just noise. There was only one thought that mattered.

She’s alive.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Oscar,” his aunt was saying, “the world can talk to each other again...”

It was then she noticed the white-knuckled grip he had on the back of the sofa, and the tears streaming silently down his face.

He told her that night, told her everything. About RWBY and JNR, about the attack at Haven, about a drunk old crow, about crashed trains and snowstorms, about the fall of Atlas.

About the belly of a great black beast, and the torture he’d suffered at the hands of humanity’s greatest enemy. About the hollowness he’d felt when he left, and the crushing guilt that had slowly come to replace it.

She cried, and he cried, and she held him, and in the background, news reports played clips of familiar faces on repeat. Still out there, doing their best, without him.

There was one thing he left out - no need to tell his aunt about silver eyes and a kind smile, about how much it hurt to know that he’d left her behind, specifically.

That much, at least, was still his own.

He still watched the night sky, but now the questions he asked himself had changed.

Do they hate me for leaving?

________________________

He only heard from Ozpin twice in his time at the farm.

Once, about a month after the CCT was restored, when a Grimm had nearly gotten the drop on him.

Behind you, Oscar.

The voice was gone as quickly as it had come, without even an apology for breaking his pact of silence. But it had given him just enough time to see the Beowulf coming, to get his pitchfork up to block the jagged teeth as it lunged.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to dispatch it, even though it was merely a single beast, even though just 10 months before, he, or any one of his companions, could have killed it in mere seconds.

He was rusty.

And he was letting himself wallow, something every Remnant child was cautioned against. Hell, he’d probably drawn the Grimm in with his own guilt and self-pity.

He took up training again after that, practicing against hay bales and scarecrows in the early mornings before his daily duties began.

He wasn’t going to let himself be a beacon of despair. He wasn’t going to endanger his aunt, or himself, like that.

_______________________

It was a year and nine months after his return, the second time Ozpin spoke to him.

He was at the feed store, loading bags of dried corn into his aunt’s beat-up truck for the chickens, when Ozpin uttered a single word:

Oh.

And then he was gone.

Not gone in the way he’d been for the past two years, where Oscar had always been aware of a silent presence in the deepest corners of his mind. But fully, completely gone.

Oscar expected the sky to rip open, for people to scream, to cry, for something, anything, to look different. He pulled out his Scroll, checked the news. Nothing.

Something had happened. But life continued around him, unchanged. The clerk at the feed store gave him a funny look. He was blocking the loading bay.

He drove home in a daze, tears blurring his vision, and told his aunt to turn on the TV.

It took three hours for the news reports to start rolling in. Humanity’s greatest enemy, defeated. Faunus and human together, standing united. A mysterious silver light seen in a ruined continent to the west.

He and his aunt watched the footage in silence for hours, and he found himself searching for a red cape, for a mop of long blonde hair, any hint of what might have truly transpired.

When he climbed on the barn roof to watch the night sky that evening, his questions had changed once again.

They’d done it.

But what had become of them?

Of her?

(to be continued)

#rwby #rosegarden #rosegarden week 2021 #ruby #oscar #ruby rose #oscar pine #tomecko writes #i promise the second half will end on a happier note (she says while not done writing it)

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costellos · 3 years

Text

a/n: here are all the Bucci gang asks from last Thurday’s Halloween headcanon ask game! I decided to compile them into one giant post bc... hoo boy... there were a lot. nonetheless, thanks for participating, friends! this was so much fun!! (also, side note, there are still a ton in my ask box. I’ll get to those sometime this week, so hang tight!)

tw: minor gore mention in Abbacchio and Fugo’s descriptions

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & some misc. halloween headcanons!

bruno bucciarati.

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@buuni asked: ahhh the Halloween emoji game seems fun !! could I ask for Bruno 🍂 thank you !! And I hope you’re doing well this spooky season 🐇💕

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🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

participating in All Souls Day. although Bucciarati was raised Catholic, I don’t think he’d remain a practicing one. still, there’s something comforting about honoring the deceased. he’d tell you fun, little stories about his father and the kind of household Bucciarati was raised in. you can’t help but notice how happy he looks as he talks. how his eyes sparkle, that rare, genuine smile on his lips. at the end of the day, he tucks a chrysanthemum behind your ear and places a kiss on your temple. “I appreciate your patience, amore,” he hums, that smile still on his lips. “it means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

leone abbacchio.

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@heartsllabyul asked: OMGOMGOMG TOYAAAAAA 🍂🍿 with the loml leone abbacchio please 🥺

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🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

trying seasonal foods. Abbacchio finds a lot of it fascinating since “fall” isn’t really a season in Italy. it gets colder sure, but the culture around autumn isn’t nearly as big as it is in your country. he thinks a lot of autumn-based foods are odd. pumpkin spice anything tastes artificial to him, though he thinks butternut squash soup is decent. his favorite is spiked apple cider! but he’d never admit it. he thinks it’s entertaining watching you desperately search for some seasonal food that he’d like.

🍿 how they react to watching a horror movie

he doesn’t! Abbacchio doesn’t see the appeal behind horror movies. besides, his time as a police officer and mobster has made it difficult for him to see them as anything other than cheap entertainment. and that goes for slashers, psychological thrillers, and gorey flicks. despite all that, he’ll watch horror movies if you like them. he finds your interest endearing. he gets more embarrassed than he’d like to admit when you hold onto his arm as you watch.

giorno giovanna.

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anonymous: giorno + 🏠🍂? Abbababy Anon asked: Hmm hmm~ how about 🎃 for Fugo and Giorno?

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🏠 how they would react to being in a haunted house

pretty well! Giorno isn’t someone who scares easily. the most he’ll do is take a step back when something gets him. he keeps his fingers laced with yours, ready to advance (or abandon ship) whenever you’re ready.

🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

watching meteor showers. autumn is an astronomy hot spot, an event that he would love to share with you. anything about life and human existence is a topic of interest of Giorno. how to preserve it, how to observe it. he’d happily share everything that he knows with you. Giorno would take you far away from the city, far enough for you to clearly see the night sky, and far enough to be completely alone. but once the meteor shower starts, strangely, he wouldn’t be watching what seems to be falling stars. no, his eyes would be locked on his other favorite spectacle: the person sitting right beside him.

🎃 how seriously they take carving pumpkins

not seriously, and he’s not a big fan of it. he hates scooping out the pumpkin’s guts to start carving. the wet and sticky texture, along with the smell... no thanks. he’d rather watch you do it. and once you’re finished, he’d be happy to sprinkle some cinnamon in so that the pumpkin smells more palatable once it’s lit.

guido mista.

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@zellyroo asked: 🍂 and 🎃 w/ mista please? 💛💛

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🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

Mista loves picking apples. it’s a laid-back activity with a high return rate. spending time with you and getting food while feeding the Pistols? count him in. plus, he loves feeling like the perfect boyfriend when he has to help you grab those hard-to-reach apples. and dear god, don’t get him started on apple cider donuts. oof. he could eat 10, easily.

🎃 how seriously they take carving pumpkins

very seriously. he’s seen so many cool designs, how hard can it be? Mista quickly learns, however, that carving pumpkins is quite difficult. you laugh when you hear him curse under his breath as he tries to cut through it. the Pistols bully him for his ugly design, but it’s hard to understand them when their mouths are stuffed with pumpkin seeds. Mista just tells them to shut it. in the end, he gives up on his elaborate design, opting for something more simple. after all, he hates anything that complicates his life (and boy, is this stupid pumpkin doing just that). it comes out like any other jack-o’-lantern.

narancia ghirga.

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anonymous asked: Hi; May I ask 🧙‍♀️ for Narancia, please? Thank you! :D 🧡

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🧙 if they would dress up & what they would dress as

it would take a little convincing to get Narancia to dress up. he really, really wants to do it, but he doesn’t want to come off as childish! you’d have to tell him that everyone in the U.S. dresses up on Halloween. but once he’s convinced, he’s convinced. he’d be bouncing a variety of ideas with you; he’d probably have a new one every hour. in the end, he’d settle on something spooky with you, like dressing up as zombies! (much to Fugo’s dismay.)

pannacotta fugo.

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anonymous asked: 🧟‍♂️ 🍂 for Fugo! Abbababy Anon asked: Hmm hmm~ how about 🎃 for Fugo and Giorno?

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🧟‍♂️ a non-serious fear that they have

zombies. the idea of a virus spreading, how it wrecks your immune system and makes you lose control of yourself... it reminds him too much of Purple Haze. on a less serious note, he just thinks they look gross. he’s seen his fair share of innards and bodily fluids during his time in Passione, but. still. eugh.

🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

corn mazes, surprisingly! it was one of those things he thought was stupid at first, but loved once he was actually in one. the maze attendant gave you both a series of riddles mapped according to different intersections in the field. Fugo had a blast trying to figure it out; after all, it was just one giant puzzle. he had a smug look for the rest of the day once he found out that he beat Mista’s time.

🎃 how seriously they take carving pumpkins

too seriously for it to be fun. being raised in a demanding household has built him to be a huge perfectionist. carving pumpkins was something he thought would be really easy until he got to it himself. the pumpkin’s rind is so difficult to cut through that it makes his lines look jagged. and god, he was not expecting it to be so messy. Fugo had this elaborate design planned out, but once he finished, he ended up with a standard jack-o’-lantern face. you’ll have to remind him that it still looks great.

trish una.

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anonymous asked: 🍂 and 🎃 for trish?

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🍂 what their favorite fall activity is

getting fall-themed coffee, obviously! but not pumpkin spice lattes. god, no. Trish thinks they’re overdone. she’d rather go for anything with caramel and / or cinnamon. bonus points if it’s sugary (bitter coffee is only tolerable). she laughs when you get whipped cream stuck on your top lip, but her honey-sweet giggle is always followed by her swiping her thumb over your face. it’s a great excuse to touch you.

🎃 how seriously they take carving pumpkins

not too seriously. at least not initially. she sees it as another part of American culture that she doesn’t understand. but when she sees how much fun you’re having, she can’t help but get into it herself. it’s a fun past time, albeit difficult (who knew these gourds were so thick?). Trish makes it her personal goal to make her pumpkin look nicer than yours. although she’s unsuccessful in her endeavor, she’d admit that pumpkin carving was “just okay” — aka really fun.

#bucci gang #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #headcanons #golden wind #part 5 #ask game response #giorno giovanna #Bruno Bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #Narancia Ghirga #Pannacotta Fugo #trish una #gore mention /#after about 3 months of running this blog #I finally got a Trish request #bless u anon :')#she was a joy to write for

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Mismatch- Part 20

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

The Batman hiding behind a corndog stall from a teenage girl: are you sure this is necessary? Twins: yes

First < Previous > Next

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

They arrive at the fair without being followed by Harley, at least she hopes so. Bruce somehow being able to convince Marion to not eat before going on the rides. In return Marion takes them straight to the most intense ride they have.

“Oh darn Mari,” Marinette says being dragged in line, “I don’t think we can go on this one without our disguises falling off,”

“Don’t worry I’ve been on plenty of rides like this and my glasses have never fallen off,”

You have magic glasses you twat! Marinnette glares, getting only a grin, telling her Marion knows exactly what he is doing. She's about to say as much when she notices an unfortunately familiar pair of pigtails in the crowd.

“Mari-” She looks over to her grinning twin.

“You know Nette if you really don't want to go on you don't have to,” Marion teases, Harley Quinn getting way too close to escape.

“On second thought let's go,” Marinette pushes Marion towards the ride, ignoring Bruce's surprise and Marion's taunting.

They get pulled onto the ride, Marinette coming off ghostly pale. Thankfully no Harley Quinn in sight.

“Let’s go again,” Marion starts pushing Marinette back in line, too light headed to stop him.

“How about we try some of the food, instead,” Bruce offers, looking over at her with concern.

“Sure, we can go on the rides later then,” Marion calls cheerfully, skipping off to a cotton candy stand.

“I got played didn’t I?” Bruce asks, watching Marion join the line.

“Like a fiddle,” Marinette starts to get some of the color back in her cheeks, “Don’t worry happens to everyone,”

“Yeah, he’s like his Mom,” Bruce mutters under his breath, but she still hears, “I mean…”

“It’s alright,” Marinette shrugs, walking towards the stand “Cotton candy?”

“Do I have to eat it?” Bruce grimaces, following her.

“Marions going to find a way to make you try it one way or another,”

Marion somehow manages to convince them all to get cotton candy. Bruce being thoroughly confused by it.

“It’s easy, all you do is pull a piece off,” Marinette demonstrates pulling off a piece.

“Or you can just bite it,” Marion faceplants into it.

“And get it all over your face,” Marinette deadpans, sneaking some to Tikki.

“Exactly,” Marion grins, coming back up with pink sugar all over his face.

“And you’re sure I don’t need any utensils,” Bruce says, looking quite out of place with the oversized pink cloud.

“No!” They both shout.

‘Alright then,” He pulls off a piece, cringing as he eats it, “This is just sugar,”

“Precisely,” Marion grins, biting off a big chunk.

“You're going to make yourself sick,” Bruce looks like he’s about to yank it away from him.

“ Precisely ,” Marion says, muffled by the dissolving sugar, “We should try funnel cake next!”

“Dear god, he’s just like Dick,” Bruce frets, watching as Marion bounces to the stall.

“I’m willing to bet Mari’s worse,” She watches as he eyes up the powdered sugar, “he’s a bottomless pit,”

“I think you might me right,” Bruce winces as Marion receives an oversized funnel cake, “that's terrifying,”

“You should see him around cheese,” Marinette suggests innocently, “Especially camembert,”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,”

Please do

They follow Marion around the food stalls. Marinette is able to keep up by feeding most of her sweet treats to Tikki. Bruce is not so lucky. They come across a mirror maze Marinette points out to give Bruce a break.

“Ah yes the mirror maze the best place to make sure no one recognises you,” Marion recites theatrically.

“The reflections are distorted,” Bruce walks past a mirror making him comically short

“Yeah that guy looks kind of like the Joker,” Marinette looks over to where Marion is pointing.

“Ah Mari,” She hesitates looking over the group of clowns reflected in the mirror that should definitely not be holding guns, “I think that is him,”

“Not again,” Marion mutters, backing up.

She tries to form a plan, they have to make a break for it to change into costumes or people could get hurt. But how are they supposed to so that with Bruce hovering over them. He looks like he’s trying to find an escape route, they have to find a way to protect them and-

“Is that Harley Quinn?” Marion whispers.

Sure enough they watch a reflection of the group making out from the stretched image as Harley walks over to the group and hits the Joker right over the head with a mallet.

“We should leave,” Bruce whispers, herding them in the direction they came.

“Will she be alright?” Marinette asks, watching the fight through a different mirror and gunshots echo.

“Yeah I think she’ll be fine,” Bruce says, as Harley knocks the gunmen's weapons away while hyenas chase after them through the maze.

They exit the maze in record time, Bruce being able to lead them through it easily.

“Do you think we should tell someone?” Marinette asks, there doesn't seem to be any more people going into the maze, maybe it's a Gotham six sense.

“We should,” Bruce agrees, less than enthusiastically.

“Or, or,” Marion dances in front of them, “We could go play some games,”

“We were almost attacked by the Joker and you think that's a good use of time?” Marinette can tell Bruce is thinking the same.

“Exactly! We were almost, so it doesn't count now does it?” Marion doesn't wait for an answer as he rushes off further into the fair.

They have no choice but to sigh and follow after him. Well they do but that's beside the point.

“Oh how awful it is, to not get to partake in the joys of a rollercoaster, unlike yourself whom screams with delight and fear every time-” Marinette uses the water gun to spray in the clown's face, “Hey!”

Unfortunately the clown that is related to her, not the carnival game. Marion tries to grab the water gun and they start fighting over it. Somehow they still manage to get a high score, enough for the big prize. Whether it was her good luck or Marion's bad luck projecting onto the stall runner is unclear.

“Unbelievable,” Marinette sighs as they walk away from the stall.

“Sorry, Nette there's just no love for the bugs,” Marion grins, hugging the giant black cat to his chest.

“I will find a Ladybug, just watch me,” She promises, this was never a problem in Paris, they have tonnes of Ladybug plushies.

“Sure you will,” Marion hums, Bruce just looks amused at their antics.

“If not I’m sewing spots onto the cat,” Marinette threatens, walking between rows of stalls none having a Ladybug plush.

“Nooooo,” Marion cowers, hugging the cat close.

“I think I saw a Ladybug prize somewhere back there,” Bruce points in the opposite direction.

“Where?” Marion runs where Bruce is pointing, Cat raised above his head, “We must go to save Dough boy!”

“Dough boy?” Marinette jogs slightly to keep up.

“From your disproving tone I can tell you approve,” Marion turns on his heel walking backwards.

“You know I technically won that game,” She pokes the cat toy in the chest.

“Please you were losing without me,” Marion grins, people moving out of his way.

“No I wase- look out!” Marinette pushes them both into the gap between stalls.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks, on guard looking out for the Joker, Marinette can feel him scanning the area.

“The devil has arrived,” Marion whispers, noticing Lila, “Her dark shadow always follows us,”

“... Pardon?” Bruce relaxes taking it for a joke, which it is most certainly not, Marinette tenses as Lila sends Kim right to the stall they are hiding behind.

“Girl at school we really don’t like, who really doesn't like us,” Marinette summarises, shallowling inhaling the smell of greasy batter.

“Which one?” Bruce analyses the group of teens near them.

“Sausage hair over there,” Marion nods to her, watching as Kim comes back with a corn dog, “Gasp, cannibalism!”

“Are you telling me Lila wouldn’t eat another human?” Marinette crouches down further keeping to the shadows.

“Are you telling me Lila is human?” Marion mutters back, both keeping their voices down.

“Good one,”

“Thanks,”

“Who’re we spy’n on?”

They all jump at the new voice. Marinette twisting to come nose to nose with Harley Quinn.

“De ja vu,”

“What?” Bruce turns to Marion.

“Nothing!” Marion very smoothly avoids eye contact.

“Spy’in on another date are we?” Harley asks, squeezing in next to the group.

“Another?” Bruce looks between them confused.

The twins frantically shake their heads behind Bruce's back. Harley makes a ‘o’ face and gives a nod.

“We’re spying on the devil,” Marion points at Lila, grateful she could at least serve as a distraction, “Bless whatever unfortunate soul has the displeasure of dating her,”

“Sounds to me like you have some strong opinions,” Bruce says, with slight disbelief, probably thinking they are overreacting.

“Trust me they’re founded,” Marinette whispers, cringing at the shrill laugh Lila gives.

Bruce gives her an expectant look and wedged together between a corn dog stall and who knows what else isn’t the best place to pick a fight.

“That’s a grade A psychopath right there,” Harley finally whispers to them.

“You can tell?” Marinette asks, ignoring Marion giving Bruce a smug look.

“Well from what I can see she’s a manipulative Liar-”

“To put it lightly, I don’t think she’s told the truth once in our years of knowing her,” Marion scowls, as Lila animatedly tells another tale, “Not even her name, don’t you think Lila and liar is a bit too convenient?”

“Anyway, she has pretty much all the class wrapped around her finger,” As if to prove her point Sabrina runs off to fetch her a drink, “Makes up rumours about anyone that doesn't follow her blindly and turns the rest against them,”

“I’m taking it you didn’t follow her blindly?” Bruce guesses, what on earth would give him that idea?

Harley seems to be studying Lila like she is a particularly interesting bug.

“Oh no we just love Lila so much we hide in joy every time she comes near,” Marion retreats further into the shadows, a hair away from actually hissing.

“You went toe to toe with scarecrow are you honestly telling me you're hiding from her,” Bruce studies Lila, as if looking for some sign of danger.

“If it helps she literally appeared in my fear toxin… illusions?” Marion looks for confirmation, Bruce giving a nod, Marinette shrugs he had already told her and didn’t feel like a stretch, “As the devil, soooo…”

“What did that meanie do to you!” Harley cries wrapping Marion in a hug, its alright Bruce only looks very concerned.

“Then I suggest we retreat rather than wait for them to leave,” Bruce offers, Marinette gives a nod but Harley has other plans.

“Not until I fuck that girl up!” Harley stands brandishing a mallet.

“Harley no!” Marinette hisses the three of them trying to pull her back out of the stalls.

“Let me go!” Harley struggles but not with any real strength, making sure not to hit them with the mallet, “She needs to pay,”

“Harley if we wanted her gone we could have done it already,” Marion placates, trying to push her away.

“You want her around?” Harley stops in her tracks, tilting her head to look like a confused child.

“If we wanted her gone violently ,” Marinette specifies, guiding Harley out the alley.

“So you’ll accept a non violent way?” Bruce speaks up surprisingly.

“Yeah… I guess?” Marinette hesitates, Bruce and Harley share a glance then a nod, whatever just happened it might be better to remain ignorant.

“Well, glad we avoided that disaster,” Marion sighs, as he stretches out.

“What disaster, those outfits? Because you look utterly ridiculous,” They all turn to see Chloe scowling down at them.

That's right they said they would be with their aunt today and had turned down her invitation to the fair.

“Chloe! Hi great to see you,” Marion cringes, backing up under the blondes glare, “And everyone else, what a pleasant surprise,”

“Who were you hiding from?” Kagami asks, or rather demands staring suspiciously at Bruce. She gives a simple nod at the waving Harley.

“Would you believe Lila is here?” Marinette sighs, pointing back at the gap they escaped from.

“I suspected she was after Adrien threw up,” Chloe shrugs, Marinette's concern pushes into overdrive, overlooking Adrien for any signs of damage.

“I think that was more the rides combined with this food,” Kagami informs, looking down at a deep fried hotdog with disgust.

“Guys, please…” Adrien blushes, glancing at her for some reason.

“Who is this?” Kagami demands, definitely demands this time.

“Harley Quinn-”

“Yes we know that,” Chloe huffs, cutting off Bruce.

“Oh.. um,” Marion exchanges a hesitant glance with both of them, “Bruce Wayne?"

“Right, and why is he here with you two?” Chloe doesn't look impressed at Marion's awkward chuckle.

“Um well… uh,” Marinette tries, glancing at Bruce who doesn't meet her look, “We just happened to be in the area?”

“Bzzt! Wrong! Try again,” Chloe makes and ‘x’ with her fingers.

“Publicity stunt?” Marion says, in the most unconvincing tone conceivable.

“Rion, if you were planning a publicity stunt there would be confetti glitter and fireworks,”

Marinette tries not to laugh remembering a publicity stunt involving MCD that features exactly that.

“What do you want from me,” Marion whines, hiding behind his large plushie.

“The truth,” Kagami snaps, scowling.

“You don’t have to lie to us,” Adrien says gently, half reaching out to them.

“The truth is…” Marinette trails off, completely weak for the boy but it’s clear Bruce doesn't want them to know.

“... I am their biological Father,”

They all look at him in shock. Marinette’s is a happy shocked, but their friends...

“What?!”

“I knew it!” Harley cheers, jumping up and down.

“But you- there was- you said-” Kagami stutters, a rarity for her.

“You, me,” Chloe points at Marion then at herself, “Words, now ,”

“Someones in ~trouble~,” Marinette whispers over to him.

“You too Marinette Dupain Cheng,” Chloe points right in her face.

“Ohh full name,” Marion returns the favour, “It’s been awhile,”

“Careful Cheng Dupain,” Chloe glowers, Marion chuckles uncomfortably.

“I’m in danger,” Mario gets dragged to the side, Marinette following, leaving Bruce behind.

“You’re in trouble ,” Kagami scolds, as they stop out of earshot from Bruce and Harley who is buzzing around asking a million questions, “If you don’t explain right now,”

“You owe us an explanation,” Chloe lets go of Marion's arm, “You were in the hospital and we were all worried trying to control these rumors and now you tell us its the truth and I-”

“Chlo, I’m sorry Selina only just told us,” Marion cuts off her rant, bordering on tears, he adds, “In the hospital,”

“You’re Aunt told you, but how would she-” Adrien puzzles, realisation dawning, “ No ,”

“Yes?” Marinette backs up a step, everyone realising the same.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous,” Chloe stomps her foot, “How can someone do that?!”

“Chlo, we’re not mad,” Marion tries to placate, Chloe turning on him.

“Of course you're not!” She explodes, “You two are perfect and forgiving which is why I have to be mad for you,”

“I think it would be nicer if you weren't mad and just supportive,” Marion smiles, Chloe's anger crumbling around her.

“... but it’s so much easier to be mad,” She whines, “Can’t I be angrily supportive?”

“I feel like you're going to be anyway,” Marion grins, one of whom they both know Chole is powerless against.

“So what are you doing now?” Adrien asks, looking back at Bruce who is now arguing wiht Harley, or rather getting yelled at.

“Trying to figure things out I guess?” Marinette looks over to confirm with Marion, “Bruce wants us to be sure we want, this,”

She gestures around herself, not sure what she means either.

“Do you want it?” Kagami asks carefully.

“... We want to try,” Marion gets a nod from Marinette.

“Very well, I will make sure he is worthy of you,” Kagami stomps off towards Bruce.

“Kags, you really don’t have to do that!” Marion calls, chasing after her.

“And she’s gone,” Marinette sighs, turning to the others, both smiling, “Adrien, Chloe can you do something?”

“We sure can,” Chloe walks over next to Kagami who is chewing out Bruce with Harley, “So, what do you want with my friends?”

“Not what I meant!” Marinette yells, getting a pat on the shoulder from Adrien.

“Quite you, the adults are talking,” Chloe waves her off.

“I’m older than you!”

“You should know they already have amazing parents that you can't replace,” Adrein adds to the onslaught of demands from the girls, a lot less threatening.

“I know, I’m not trying to,” Bruce answers evenly, still looking concerned at their guard dog like friends.

“Very well, you should know they are both amazing, and if you show anything less than a hundred percent support I will slice you in half,” Kagami threatens, and if she had her sword she would be holding it to his throat.

“Kagami no,” Marion tries to calm her down.

“You’re right, I will make it far more painful,” She growls.

“~Nooo~,” Marion backs down, hugging the cat to his chest.

“That's right, and don’t you dare think that just because your a billionaire your money will cut it,” Chloe scoffs, “Trust me the twins aren't that superficial, in fact they aren't superficial at all, it's frustrating,”

“She said twins,” Marion whispers to her as the demands continue.

“Package deal,” She hisses back, Bruce looking more and more overwhelmed by the pushy teens.

“Good friends you got there,” Harley whispers, content to let the chew out Bruce.

“What were you yelling at him for?”

“Oh nothin, he said some crap about not wanting to put you in danger, so I calmly explained the psychology behind it,” She crosses her arms smugly, “I think I got through to him,”

“If you're worried you should know Mari- they are really strong and can protect themselves,” Adrein says, Bruce starts to agree but is cut off.

“Hey! You were going to say Marinette! Weren’t you?” Marion demands, distracting the three from their onslaught.

“Both your names start with Mari,” Kagami points out, turning to him.

“Are you so insecure you immediately thought he meant Marinette?” Chloe taunts, inspecting her nails.

“No-I,”

“Geeze Rion I know Marinette awesome but your, you know… ok,” Adrien joins her teasing, muttering, “I guess,”

“That’s it, I’m disowning every one of you,” Marion points at each of them before turning to Bruce, “By the way, these are my ex-friends we used to be quite close, then they made the decision to humiliate me and I cut them out of my life forever,”

“Don’t be like that Rion,” Chloe grins, leaning against him.

“Yeah just because Marinette probably won that prize,” Adrien takes his other side, poking at the cat.

“She did not!”

“I did,” Marinette grins, Marion rolls his eyes.

“It was a team effort,”

“Heavily leaning on Marinette,” Kagami adds.

“Alright, let's settle this,” Marion looks at Bruce, “Where did you see that Ladybug?”

“Follow me,” Bruce smiles minutely leading the way.

“Ohh, Ladybug, maybe I should get one,” Chloe gushes, as if she didn’t have a hundred Ladybug plushies already.

“Yeah I can win it for you,” Marinette smirks, flexing her muscles.

“That does it! I’m winning that prize and sewing on cat ears,” Marion pouts, getting cooed at as they point out Marinette is the better seamstress.

“So how’ve you two been doin?” Harley asks, walking in between Chloe and Kagami.

The two start blushing, spluttering denial; which does nothing to convince Harley, or anyone else for that matter. Bruce follows them through the fair on their search for the Ladybug. If Marinette saw him taking pictures as they fought to win the Ladybug first, she wasn't going to say anything.

---------

Hi sorry I missed a few days life got busy>-< Also sorry if I don’t respond to messages or likewise I’m still trying to figure out Tumblr I’ll get there eventually... hopefully.

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90 @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

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heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

Farmer Jaune #1

AN: here’s a little background for you people, places, or things, I love Stardew Valley... That’s all.

Summary: Jaune takes a bet with his father that if he can get the old family farm up in running he’ll have shown enough dedication to be a huntsman.

Forteen year old Jaune stood in front of ‘The Club’ at lunch time carrying large crate of assorted fruits on his left shoulder for this Junior guy to try, while in his right he played on his scroll while the two bouncers out front refused to let him in.

Sure, he could barge in, but that’d be rude and create a bad impression on a potential buyer. So the stuck up suits could glare at him all they wanted, he’d wait till Junior saw him or picked up his scroll, or they finally let him in.

Huh, who knew Spruce Willis liked to garden, another reason to look to the guy as a man among men.

The two suits kept a steady glare on the boy with bangs covering the his right eye, only leaving a single blue orb to stare at his scroll. He was all lean muscle, tanned skin, and sun-bleached hair package up in a dirt stained tee and blue jeans.

They’re were sure that they could take him, and there were no notices about a fruit shipments, so they were ready to put down a scam-artist if they had too. Though, if he was a scam-artist he really was easy going.

“So, ‘Mr. Arc’,” One of the suits said as sarcastically as possible.

“Just Jaune.” Jaune said boredom, hoping Junior wasn’t messing with him, if he was he’d have to sic dad on him.

The guards snicker. “Ok Just Jaune,” Jaune rolls his single visible eye. “What do you got in the crate?” “Are you mugging me? Because if you are that’s just lame, it’s a crate full of fruit, how poor are you if need to mug a man for fruit? Delicious, juicy fruit sure, but just fruit.” Jaune say rapid-fire without looking up from him scroll.

The suit who spoke up went flush with anger at the insinuation, he worked for the damn mob! He made very good illegal money! He didn’t even recorded it to the irs that’s how bad he was!

Suit two just snickered at his friend. “I think what my buddy meant was what do have in the box to sell to the boss, and why do you think he’d buy from you over importing from Mistral or bulk buying from the Agri-Dis?”

Jaune rolled his eye again. “For the fourth time he asked me to bring him a crate, which I would have delivered to him by now, and gotten some lunch to if you two lumper didn’t get in the way.”

“And for the fourth time your not on the list, so try sell us on your product and we might let you in!” The first suit said exsperated. “Also why not just eat some produce?”

Jaune shrugged. “Same reason, I’m going to refuse to sell any to you two right now, cause I have things called standards. I always include a little extra on the orders so that people know their appreciated! If I took that away, it’d ruin the magic!”

Jaune then said with a smile, “That said if you’re interested, I can give my website to place an order, and little peak of the goods too.” Jaune said wiggling an eyebrow.

The second suit let out a tired sigh, knowing that this would be long day already. “Ok, back to my second question first, why would anyone buy from you some dirty looking kid from outside the city walls, instead of the nice clean stalls at the Agri-Dis? Also, I make good money wouldn’t I just import good food from Mistral or Vacuo?”

“Ok, find you’ve worn me down fine. Ok first, the Agric-Dis’s food is abysmal grown for two thing!” Jaune said putting away his scroll, and then holding up two finger making them glow with the light of his soul, making both guards jump at the realization this boy was also a hunter in training. “Bulk production, and fast regrowth speed, they inject Earth dust into the soil to make it more fertile, and genetically mod the plants so they grow as fast as possible and big as possible with account for taste! Which to be fair isn’t a bad thing, the city is overpopulated as is, and the Agri-Dis needs to feed everyone, and neither dust usage or gene mods are intrinsically bad, just that bulk produce doesn’t always taste as good as growing something with love and care!”

The two suits inched back in shock at Jaunes passionate rant, and the first suit recovered faster and asked. “Alright, you’ve made a good point. But what about outsourcing production to Mistral or Oasis in Vacuo? They’re food is really good!”

Jaune held a finger as he regained his breath.

“Ok, that’s a fair point, Vacuo has a warmer climate than Vale so it’s easier to grow more crop in season there in certain areas, and Mistral has the same benefit, but, it’s not the food that bad but the prices, and time you have to wait in between shipments.”

The suits leaned in with interest.

“This also has a couple problems, compared to my products.” Jaune holding up his free hand, letting it glow freely to attract the suits attention. “First, is the price you’d paying is roughly three time as much as my own for virtually the same product.” Jaune said slowly and methodically, letting it sink into the mens minds, he’d never let a potential customer get away, even if they were goons.

“Second is bidding, when you order from out of kingdom your have to compete with everyone else who wants that food, which also is reason the price is higher they can afford to hike it because it’s in demand, so since it’s in demand that means people want it, which implies scarcity, so even if you place an order there no garuntee that they’ll have any left for you.“ “I never thought of that way when I saw the restock sign...” “Most people don’t, in fact most people don’t care about the quality of the food long as it’s good and edible. So like I said limited supply, right? Well, right now I have tons of food to sell, I won’t be running out either,” Jaune said with a smirk, “but for how long? Anyway, another problem if your foods coming from outside the kingdom means that it’s coming outside the kingdom, this is two probelm. One, you’re weakening the local market, while strengthening foreign market, and you don’t want freaking Vacuo to be stronger than Vale in anyway right?” Jaune asked slyly.

“No..”

“The other problems with outsourcing from out of kingdom, is the shorter shelf lift, shipping takes time, you know this, you’re smart guys right?”Jaune asked the men, who quickly nodded. “Well, you should know that caravans only come so often, there could be month in-between you ordering your product and actually getting it! So your food could be moldy and black!”

The suits looked at each other, remembering the bosses fits of rage about a ruined order of fruit, and their own bad experiences with outsourcing. Conveinently forgeting this only happened once or twice, out of the hundreds of times they’ve ordered.

Jaune continued, “The final problem is it’s outside the kingdom anything can happen! Bandits, grimm, White Fang, Then Bam!” Jaune punctuating by slamming his hand against the crate. “You just lost three hundred lien by ordering from freaking Vacuo, what the hell you’d expect from ordering from those them, it’s all gone now! And it’s all your fault from ordering from Vacuo!” Jaune said quickly, and almost out of breath.

The men scowled at the idea of letting Vacuo pull a fast one on proud Valemen like themselves.

“Now, on the other hand my produce is loved and cared for only a mere half hour away in hunter protected settlement of Stardew Valley. Barring in-climate weather, or Grimm, I will have your product, if it’s ready for shipping out, to you within a week or you get the shipping free! Bam!” Jaune slammed his hand on the box again. “You just cut your grocery bill by a two-thirds!”

Silence then filled the gap again.

“So, did I answer you gentlemen’s questions?” Jaune asked with a slightly sore throat.

“I think I’ll be taking a look at your scrollsite later today,” The second suit said, then smiles thinly. “I just hope you’re not exaggerating, but regardless you got me rethinking my spending habits!”

The men and boy let out a little chuckle.

“Alright how about I let you two see what it’s in the crate to see proof of product.” Jaune said easing the crate on two the ground, easily being twice as wide as his waist, and coming up to his torso.

The men gave a shrug.

Jaune undid the latch on the crate and opened it up, assulting the men with sweet, starchy, and delcious smells of produce, their mouths involuntarily starting to water at the sight of fresh cherries, ripe melons, golden-yellow corn, full and juicy blackberries, tart and sweet blueberries, the spicy red hot peppers, ripe to bursting tomatos, and the most robust coffee they’ve ever smelt.

Jaune then slammed the lid closed a minute later, and put the crate onto his shoulder.

“Arc! What are you doing here? I told you to meet me at noon, and I’d meet you at the Club, not for you to wait for me outside the Club for an hour.”

“Dad say “If you’re early you’re on time, if you’re on time you’re late, if you’re late, everybody’s dead and you’ve lost your huntsman license.”

“Whatever, just follow me in, and we’ll hash out the deal today.�� Junior looked at his men. “I’m not mad, you did well.”

“I’m not mad either, just bored.” Jaune said slipping in.

.....

“So, you wanna go half in, on a order?” “Why not? All that talking got me hungry.”

#Jaune Arc #Farmer Jaune AU #I have no idea about economics #I just typed what ever to feel smart #I have no regrets.#Junior #Stardew Valley

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seiya234 · 3 years

Text

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands, 1/?

oh hey look a new multi-chaptered fic. as always, I blame @marypsue. Very important note! This particular chapter is rated R for some gentle descriptions of married middle aged people having sex in the woods. If you want to skip that, it is in the last third of the chapter and has mostly little to do with the plot.

---

There are three ways this story begins: the short way, the medium way, and the long way.

—————————————

The short way was one day in the dying days of autumn, Stan got a call from Ford, who was on the Atlantic right now and headed towards New Jersey and

“Have the children ever been to New Jersey? To Glass Shard Beach?”

Stan adjusted the phone in the crook of his shoulder while he began to stir the bowl of Stancakes he was making, and coughed without covering his mouth.

“I think Mark took the twins when they were, fuck, six? The kids though? Never.”

“Well. I would love to see you.”

(In this universe do Stan and Ford share the ease and togetherness of other, more canon realms? No- their paths met for but a year or two before diverging again. But there was no anger, no bitterness, no sorrow in their parting, and a good relationship is still a good relationship.)

“Me too.” An idea hatched in Stan’s mind.

“When did you say you’d be in harbor again?”

---

“I have a proposition for you kiddo.”

“And I get frightened when you start using five dollar words old man.” Dipper laid down a three card book of jacks.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Look, this year’s been fucking trash right?”

Dipper thought about it. Then he thought about it again. The kids had turned 15....and then in the year following, Willow almost died, Henry became something Eldritch and Unknowable, Willow killed a grown woman, Henry was kidnapped, and they started teaching the kids how to drive.

Their 16th birthday party, while still having some of that patented Pines (mabel) Madness, was noticeably a little more subdued and scaled down than it probably would have been.

“Ford’s coming to Glass Shard right after Christmas, and since the kids don’t have to go back until middle of January, we were thinking-“

Stan laid down a run, a 4-5-6 of hearts off of Dipper’s 7-8-9. “Why don’t you and me take the kids to see Ford?”

Dipper’s brow furrowed. “You and me- what about Mabel and Henry?”

“I was thinking that maybe they’d like some time.” Stan raised an eyebrow. “Alone Dipper.”

Dipper raised his hands defensively. “Hey! I didn’t show up for their honeymoon or anything.”

“Yeah cookie for you. And when was the last time they had more than two days alone? Uninterrupted? By the kids or you?”

“Uh.” Dipper thought about it. Then he blushed. “Uh.” He drew a card.

“Exactly.” Stan laid down a book of aces, and discarded his last card, going out. “I’ll call Ford, you tell the kids.”

“What about Mabel and Henry?”

Stan snorted. “They said yes before I could finish.”

——————————————-

The long way this story begins is in 1866, when a callow and cruel young man with a trunk of grey clothes and a bloody saber inside landed in the newish state of Oregon to start a new life.

What is this young man’s name? I could tell you, but quite frankly he was a hateful piece of shit, so I’d rather not.

Here’s what you need to know about him.

He was the bosom friend of Nathaniel Northwest- they had fought side by side in the same regiment, and when the young man needed somewhere to run fast, it was Nathaniel who promised to smooth the way in return for working for him- he was strong, right? And Nathaniel knew he wasn’t adverse to rousting out some trash.

He was handsome. He towered over almost everyone in town, arms and legs draped with muscle, beautiful blonde hair, all of his teeth, and a smile that never reached his blue eyes.

And no one ever told him no.

He was loved by girls who didn’t know better, and enjoyed by women who knew to keep him at arms’ length. He was offered many favors, and he took advantage of each and every one.

A few times those favors ended with squalling, squealing piglets, red and angry and helpless. And the young poacher would take them from the homes of his cast off swains, promising to deliver the babe to a cousin’s farm the next county over, to a man running a tavern who needed the help, to a childless spinster he had heard about...

He took them to a pit he had in the forest, where he tossed them in and then covered them in dirt until the squealing stopped.

Mayhap some one suspected. But he was handsome and the friend of the town founder.

And no one ever told him no.

A fan of taking things out of season was our young man. In his hut he scalped the fur from foxes with dugs still full of milk and bear cubs that hadn’t even had the time to accumulate fat to use. The corpses of deer laid out back, the meat rotting on the corpse while the young man only desired the antlers for his home. The little corn he bothered to plant withered on the stalk, choked by weeds in an un-hoed field.

It should go without saying of course that any pigs or cows or horses he found wandering, branded or not, soon became his cattle. For the Huntsman took what he pleased and did what he wanted. He ate and drank and killed and fucked

And no one ever told him no.

Until one day when he ran into the Corduroy girl in the woods.

The men at the tavern told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had a way of riling up their wives and giving them ideas. Nathaniel Northwest told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had been talking with his loggers, giving them ideas. And his current swain told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; for she spent far too much time alone in the woods.

(they called her a witch. and since this was gravity falls, they were right.)

But still when the young man saw her gathering mushrooms near his hut, he went to her. But still his hand strayed to her breasts when she rebuffed him. But still he grabbed her throat when she tried to scratch him, tried to run away.

Because no one ever told him no.

Not if they knew what was good for them.

So it was to his great surprise that when Etta Corduroy managed to get a hand on his chest, and spat out some unknowable word, that the world itself told him no.

It felt like a horse kicked him in the chest. It felt like the blood in his veins suddenly turned into boiling steam. Every cut he had ever gotten on his skin suddenly opened up, every muscle in his body seized up going rock hard and rigid, and it was hard to breathe, it was hard to see, it was hard to do anything at all except to fall down on the ground and writhe in pain as Etta ran away.

She ran away and she left him there. She left him there, bleeding and screaming and sobbing, covered in blood and spit, piss and tears, raining down from his body to feed the earth below him, the pit that he had tossed so many bodies in before.

Perhaps in his final moments the cruel callow youth should have been scared. But what he was instead was incandescently angry, because these were his woods, his to do with what he wanted, his his HIS-

And no one, ever, ever, told him no.

It was as his breath was growing shallow, as a disconcerting amount of deer began to circle around him, that he noticed the bright yellow triangle floating above him.

“... what?”

“WHOOPSIE CHAMP! LOOKS LIKE THAT WITCH DID A NUMBER ON YOU!”

“that... that...that bitch.”

“PERSONALLY I THINK THERE’S BETTER THINGS TO DO WITH ORGANS THAN EXPLODE THEM BUT THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE.”

The Huntsman coughed up more blood. It launched up in the air before splattering all over his face.

“YEESH. GROSS. SO YEAH, CAN’T SAVE YOUR LIFE. BUT I CAN OFFER YOU SOMETHING EVEN BETTER!”

“What.... what would it cost me?”

“ONLY THE LOW LOW PRICE OF YOUR SOUL! BUT DON’T WORRY! AS LONG AS YOU D̀O ̡W͠H͝A͟T I̢ ͜ŚAY̢ , I’LL NEVER COME TO COLLECT!”

“What do you want?”

“I’VE GOT SOME BIG PLANS FOR THIS TOWN- NEVER YOU MIND WHAT- AND I COULD USE AN ENFORCER.”

“And-?”

“AND THESE WOODS WOULD BE YOURS BUCKO! YOURS TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO!”

No one ever told him no.

“Deal.”

Roadkill County, as it eventually became to be named, was always mostly forest. Even after a century and a half of logging, the forest remained, endured, survived.

But.

But there were always parts of the forest that were stripped bare.

There were parts of the forest where the Corduroys, noted by all and sundry to be the finest woodspeople in the state, refused to go.

There were parts of the forest where children would enter and never be seen again.

This is what Bill offered the Huntsman.

(for he was no longer the Callow Callous Youth, and he was certainly no longer Bruce Wilder)

The forest was the Huntsman’s to do with as he pleased, though he could only be corporeal during the light of the full moon-

(A CONVIENENT PLOT HOLE, I KNOW KID, BUT LOOK, YOU’RE DEAD, WORK WITH ME HERE)

But during that time he could hunt and do as he pleased. Meat could pass his lips, his arrows would hit true, and any person that crossed his path was his to toy and play with until they broke.

And to help him do his bidding....and to amuse him when he was bored and intangible, the Huntsman was gifted with the souls of the pit, tiny mewling creatures finally turned to some purpose-

(SO THESE ARE YOUR BASIC LEVEL GHOULS POWERED BY FORSAKEN CHILDREN; I ADJUSTED THE SETTINGS SO YOU CAN PLAY WITH WHAT THEY CAN DO. SERIOUSLY, GO NUTS.)

-for they were his hounds in the hunt, they could harrow and harm his prey and in turn he had something he could hunt on the nights when the full moon was absent.

There was only one hard rule, and that was he could never, ever leave the forest that surrounded Gravity Falls.

(”Why..?” His vision was fading but before whatever happened, he just... he just needed to know-

“YOU KNOW I DON’T NORMALLY ANSWER QUESTIONS FOR FREE,” the triangle said, twirling a cane that came out of nowhere. “BUT LETS JUST SAY THERE’S THINGS IN THIS FOREST THAT COULD INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS. AND I THINK YOU’LL DO SOME GOOD WORK HERE KID. JUST DO AS I SAY AND N̤̪̦̖̥͡ͅͅE͏͖̹̫̬V̬̼̼Ḛ̛̳͓R̯̥͕͖̬ ͉̝̼̟̮͢L͔̪E̝̳͔͟A̻̟͕̝̥̖͞V̶͈̗E̛̝.”

Well. It still seemed like he was coming out on top here.)

However, eventually the thrill of the chase paled, eventually rumors of his presence spread and both the human and non-human inhabitants of Gravity Falls learned to avoid the forest at the full moon.

He turned to playing with his Beasts, growing crueler and crueler the more his boredom grew.

Yet despite his ennui, there was one other thing that kept the Huntsman in the forest, deal or no deal. For this is what the callous young man had found out after he had died.

There was no heaven.

There was no hell.

There was just life, endless, endless, endless rounds of life.

(some would marvel at the endless chances, endless possibilities for beauty and love and good food and song but we have already established that the callous young man was not that kind of person)

However.

Within this cycle were also the times in between.

The times where potentially very very angry people would be waiting for you.

So he waited, and hunted, and feasted, and waited.

And one day Bill was gone, and the deal was off, and that should have been it for the Huntsman but instead of dissipating he only felt himself grow more powerful.

For the Huntsman had so long existed independent of Bill’s plans (indeed he never saw the triangle again), had established over a century of terror a reputation, that the knowledge of his story and the raw power of the Transcendence released some of the bonds on him and his Beasts. No longer were they bound by the light of the full moon. Though they still could not leave the forest, now his prey was limitless.

He had gotten perhaps a week or two of finally being able to live again when he was cornered by the Multibear.

“I always wanted to fell you,” the Huntsman said, his Beasts snapping and slavering at his heels.

The Multibear did not leap to his bait. “This is your warning Huntsman.”

“Warning?” The Huntsman lifted his arm, to show his newest acquisition, a coat of red caps, some still crusted with dried blood. “I am tireless. I am deathless. And you are my prey. What warning could you possibly give me?”

“I am warning you now; refrain from killing the sentient creatures of this forest, focus your sick attentions on the deer and rabbits.”

“Or else what?”

One of the Multibear’s heads smirked. “Surely, you are aware that a new demon arose in Bill’s place?”

The Huntsman rolled his eyes. “And what of it? He’s but a mere stripling. And he and his sister have never run into me, never heard of my story.”

“Have you considered that what Bill gave you, Alcor could take away?”

“That is just wishful thinking.”

The Multibear turned- turned! exposing his back!- away, with one head saying over his shoulder, “Look inside of yourself. Dwell. And you will find that it is the truth.”

The Huntsman paused. He stood still for a solid minute.

Then the blood drained from his face.

Okay.

Okay, he could handle this.

He just needed to wait until Alcor stopped living in Gravity Falls, moved out of that shack that the Mad Man built and the Con Man ran.

(the Con Man had once shot the cap off of his head as he had approached his shack. The Huntsman swore vengeance... he was just going to get to it. Eventually.)

The Huntsman waited. And waited. And waited.

For no one ever told him no.

Until one day one of his Beasts brought him news of a deal it had overheard.

A deal whereupon Alcor would be gone for two weeks, sworn by his power and blood to do so.

The Huntsman, who was still obviously a colossal piece of shit, had unfortunately learned patience. And cunning. And dark magic.

He had a plan to make the forest truly his. A plan to make Gravity Falls his.

And from there well.

With his power, and the power he hoped to take, who knew where a bright, callous and callow youth could go from here?

---

The medium way this story begins is on day three of the Super Awesome Second Honeymoon No Kid Vacation.

Days one and two were scrubbing the house top to bottom. It was boring but the kids and Stan and Dipper were going to be gone for two weeks. Two! Weeks!!! Mabel thought it best to get the boring stuff out of the way first, to best optimize their time for smoochin, shenanigans, and sparkle spaghetti night.

So Henry lifted Mabel up so she could clean the gutters, and he mopped the whole house. She scrubbed the tubs and he fixed the basement door. They trimmed some tree limbs, changed the oil in the cars, put the zipline up for the winter, and all the other little things that needed doing but got lost in the hustle of raising three teenagers and running a small business and brokering peace amongst the gnome clans.

(Mabel could have asked for Dipper to do any or all of this for a price. And while some of it was a reluctance to rely on your magic brother for everything, more of it was just plain forgetting in the day to day of life.)

But now the chores were done, and Mabel could spring her plan into action!

Step one!

“Heyyyyy Henry.... can you put this blindfold on please?”

Henry put down his newspaper-

(oof the things she loved most about him was his hands. They were almost comically oversized, even for a man as tall as him. Beautiful pianist fingers, a long, elegant palm, and between the two a truly astounding dexterity.)

-and asked, “How long will I have to have it on?”

Mabel thought about where step two was. “Uh, twenty five to thirty minutes while we walk?”

“Can we maybe put it on right before the surprise?”

Okay that was fair. And walking through the woods blindfolded was probably a bad idea? Yeah, it probably was.

“Okay!”

Step two!

She had Henry kneel down so that she could actually put the blindfold on. She shivered as he was for once shorter than her, shivered as her hands tied the thick scarf around his eyes and her hips bumped into his back. Shivered as she helped him back up and took his hand.

She could not wait for this.

Step three!

Initially she was going to use their regular tent but Mabel was worried that if she had Henry kneel down it would give the game away so she had prepped a small pavilion tent instead, with the flap already open.

“Are we almost ready?” Henry asked.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Mabel answered, quickly taking off her sweater and skirt. She had spent a whole month crocheting lingerie for this.

She was about to tell him to take off the blindfold, and then she paused.

She put back on her skirt, and instead took her husband into a gentle hug.

“You can take it off now.”

He took it off.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“This is just.... outside?”

Mabel grinned. “I’ve always wanted to.”

Her grin faltered. “If that’s... if that’s okay?

There was a pause. And then Henry lifted her up, making her squeak like every time he did that. He brought his mouth to hers. And that was all the answer she needed.

Step four!

What Mabel had dreamed about, from the moment her husband had become born again into someone new, someone not quite human, was this moment. She wanted him to pin her down with not only his arms (stronger, far stronger than they used to be) but with vines that sprang from the ground. She wanted to grab onto his antlers as she rode him into ecstasy. She wanted the earth to bloom around him, to trail her finger up and down his skin and see mushrooms bloom from her fingertips.

What happened instead was that they had some very pleasant but very normal sex, except it was on the ground and the ground was kind of hard.

She...

Well poop Mabel. Way to go and Mabel it up all over again.

They both were still sweaty and panty, but Mabel reached out to begin putting her clothes back on; this... didn’t go quite like she expected.

“Thank you honey. That was a lot of fun,” Mabel said, super casually and hopefully not betraying the turmoil roiling within her.

Henry smiled. “Of course.”

(he hoped that Mabel hadn’t noticed that the Woodsman had almost come out once or twice; it was being outside and he wanted to break free, to test his strength against hers, to grow new life in these woods and no-)

They finished getting dressed and stepped out of the tent and

Mabel froze.

“Mabel?”

Inwardly, Mabel began to curse at herself for not bringing her bat.

“Henry...” She looked around at the heavy fog around them both, sensed the deep knowledge that they were far from where she had led them, knew to her bone that the path home was concealed.

“I think I goofed.”

#transcendence au #seiya writes!

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maryellenjunior · 4 years

Text

There is a cutter whose name is Death

Geralt takes Ciri under his wing. That was the least he could do. Guilt fills his blood with every look he gives the young woman. He's bound her to him. Because he thought he stood above the gods, above destiny. So he fucked this child's life. What for? To finally not feel so alone anymore? They are silent. Both of them. Geralt is confused. Now that he has his child. This child that he strangely loves more than he's loved anything ever in his life. Now he doesn't know what to do. And it seems the gods are not smiling upon them.

War.

Nildfgaard has attacked and ravages upon the free lands like cancer. More often than enough they are waiting in supply lines, sneaking around borders. But of course they are not the only ones. Everyone is running.

Plague.

A good companion of war, Geralt thinks. They find their first plagued village a month after their union. Ciri is devastated. Geralt doesn't know what to say, how cheer her up. What can you say about death?

Death.

Geralt know death, plague and war. He's seen them. Often. His first Roach had died because he couldn't feed her. A cruel drought had killed the crops, made grass rot. His horse had simply died of hunger and he had been too young, too naive to kill her mercifully. Strangely that had been the first time he had seen death. It had kneeled beside her. One cannot describe death. You just know it is. It doesn't frighten you. Or maybe Geralt has gotten used to it. Plague he had seen in a village near south. A small one. It hadn't paid its debts to its lord, so he had called a magician to set a warning example. It had worked. Geralt remembers vaguely that he had visited the lord. Immune to human sickness he had stolen a pair of gloves from this village. Oh...the warm handshake he had given the lord. The lord died horribly, while Geralt and the magician had been hunting several ghouls. War he had first seen later in his life. War is not something to pull off easily. War costs money, soldiers, lives. Lives that normally would fill the halls with corn, apples, fill bellies of greedy lords. But still, Geralt had seen war. Burnt villages, burnt cities. And he knew...he knew it could rebuilt. The villages would bloom again, cities rise, strive again. But how do you explain something like that to a child? A child, that has seen too much for its eyes, too much death, to understand: death is the answer to life, not its enemy... Strangely he hasn't seen death on their path. Geralt wonders why. He pulls Roach a little tighter to him, while Ciri tries not to fall asleep on her. Their path leads to Oxenfurt. They need supplies. And though villages have more supplies... Cities have walls. It is a wearying game of what is a better way to survive. Actually Geralt hopes to find Yennefer there. He has heard rumors. That she had been fighting Nilfgaard, only some months ago. Maybe there are mages in the city-

Oh.

Death is in front of him. Standing on the bridge. On the bridge to Oxenfurt. Ciri gasps. It looks grotesque. They are hanging from the bridge, swinging softly in the wind. At least 200 men and women. That at least is what Geralt can count, from far. Death is giving him a look.

Oh.

They are hanging from the walls as well. A red cross on their gates. A red cross is one simple warning.

Plague.

"They must have hanged those who tried to flee from the sickness...," Geralt murmurs. Death is again looking at him. It doesn't have eyes. A mask is covering its face. It smiles. A smile of teeth covered in blood. He swallows, takes Roach's reign and turns around. Fear is burning his skin while he tries not to sit back on Roach and gallop with her far, far away, where death cannot find him. A small fire is crackling. Both of them can't sleep. Ciri glances at him. But he can't speak. HIs lips are tied. Why does the thought of a plagued Oxenfurt frighten him? Yen would have teleported herself out as soon as the word plague made the round and no one could have stopped her. She is too powerful for that. What is it with Oxenfurt? Yes, of course, he has never seen that city so utterly hopeless, Oxenfurt, the city of students, high education, the city of...

poetry. songs. ballads.

He gasps. His body caught in a coldness he knows. The chill of death. Ciri stares at him. She opens her mouth. A shadow glooming behind her, Geralt reaches for his sword. He makes the Aard Sign but a small brown hand turns it into nothing. Lilac and gooseberries fill the air. "Yen," he whispers. The magician's face looks tired in the crackling fire. Shadows dance upon it. Ciri looks at him. He nods. When Yennefer sits down, Geralt watches carefully. Yen's face ...is not that of a young woman anymore. Wrinkles around her eyes and frowns upon her forehead. Her lips dry. Even her dress...it is simple, made of linen. She looks like a peasant woman. She sits down next to Ciri and expands her hand. "My name is Yennefer of Vengerberg. I am a friend of Geralt."

Again is Ciri glancing at him. He sighs. "You can trust Yennefer, Ciri." For a moment everything stills. Then does Ciri take Yennefers hand. Yennefer smiles softly. Then, she turns her head sharply at Geralt, her eyes cold and hardened. "Geralt," she spits, "you must go back to Oxenfurt, at once." She stands up and throws him his bag. "He is in there, Geralt. He didn't want to leave, said it would not become a fucking disaster and now the order of the fucking mages cut the magic from Oxenfurt. I can't get in." Yen's glare is cutting him into pieces, but a last look at Ciri gives him enough strength to say: "He is dead, Yen. If not now, then by the break of dawn. Trust me. They've hanged 200 men from the bridge. Their walls are covered by hanged people. The rest is dead from the plague. I will not leave Ciri-" "You fucking ignorant prick!" Her scream reminds Geralt of a panther that had watched its cubs murdered by hunters for fun. He doesn't know what she went through these last months. But she is not strong anymore. Desperation screams from her, it lingers like a deadly poison on her whole appearance. He pities her. "Dont give me that look, Geralt!" Her hands are cramped into fists. "You have no idea what kind of shit I had to see these last months. Just fucking go there and see if he is alive." "I might be immune, but Ciri is not-" "Give her your fucking antibiotics! He is your friend!" Silence. This time Geralt doesn't really trust his voice. He coughs two, three, four times. "Yen," he tries, he really tries, this lump in his throat growing bigger and bigger. "I-" It is Ciri that takes his bag, desperately tries to put the saddle on Roach. "Let's go Geralt," she murmurs, her voice mere but a whisper. "Let's go back to your friend. He needs us." They arrive at the bridge at dawn. The dead are still hanging, silence having thrown a thick blanket on the whole city. And again Death is standing on the bridge. But this time it extends its hand towards him. He breathes. The smell of death making the air sweet. He wants to vomit. Yennefer is shivering and holding Ciri. Her violet eyes staring at him. "If I'm not back by noon-" Ciri hugs him by his hip, pushing her fingers harshly against his back. He kisses her hair. A small chill touches his back, little fingertips grasping at him. Goosebumps. The urge to vomit. To run. Adrenaline fills him worde than any poison he knows. One step after the other. Sweat breaking out on his forehead, the back of his neck. While he concentrates on nothing but smiling death, a grotesque hand covered in bandages , extended at him. The last step. He stands in front of the gate. Death standing next to him. He hasn't taken that hand. He looks at it. Never in his long life had he ever stood so close to Death. It's breath is sweet, its clothing covered in mud, no eyes, no nose, simply a mask with no features at all besides a bleeding mouth. It rises its left hand against the gate with such a soft gesture as if it is afraid to wake someone...or something. Geralt breathes. Closes his eyes. Takes one step, two steps... Opens his eyes. He's heard once of hell. A place where cruel souls that have not worshipped the gods, go to and rot, are tortured. Stories, he thought, stories people make up at night to have a little scare one in a while, to try to get people to be nice to each other. Or maybe these stories...are true. Because sometimes humans experience such vile, such cruel atrocities, but not done by humans, no...done by little bacteria that kill and kill and kill and kill... The city is a mass grave. He will not find Jaskier here. There are just too many. Too many corpses on the street, too many in the houses, too many piled literally piled upon each other in little shops. He goes through this city, take one step after the other, tries not to breath, not to think, not to feel. It seems they first tried to burn the houses that were infected. Geralt doesn't want to imagine the screams of terror, begging to leave the city...

Oh. Death. standing there at the temple.

And a voice. Singing an old song.

There is a cutter whose name is death Whose powers come from the gods He grinds all his knives So they are cutting much better Soon he will cut us We just have to wait and suffer Beware my little dandelion!

Geralt sees him. He's sitting on the stairs of the temple, a blond girl in his arms. She is dead. Geralt can smell it. Her dead eyes are staring at him. She must have been expecting... Jaskier's eyes are closed. His face pale like a vampire, dark circles around his eyes, his cheekbones remind Geralt of a skull.

How many thousand are not count? Which dies under the cutter's sickle? Red roses, white lilies He will all cut you down, You imperial crowns! Oh! The cutter will get you all! Watch out my sweet buttercup!

Death is sitting next to Jaskier. It's watching him, its head resting on its bandaged hands.

"JASKIER!," he growls, sprinting forward. He must end this madness. All of this must end now. He can't anymore, he can't...all of this is wrong, it's so wrong... Blue eyes watch him deadly. Death still sits there. Only Geralt's legs are shivering while he holds a trembling hand towards Jaskier. "Jaskier. Please. Come with me." Jaskier coughs. Blood spills everywhere, around his mouth, down his neck, on his filthy shirt. No, no, no...please...please let this be a nightmare, please, someone wake me up. Little blood drops landed on Death's mask. It grins. "Jaskier. You are sick. We must get you out of here." "She's expecting my baby, Geralt, you know?" It feels like someone is cutting him with a deep knife into his back, again and again and again. Jaskier's voice is nothing more than a whisper. "Her name is Priscilla. I am way too old for her. But she refused to let go of the baby." "Jaskier...please." Jaskier shakes his head. "Just listen Geralt. I can barely stand. Just...listen, okay?" Death draws nearer to Jaskier, putting its head on his shoulder. Jaskier doesn't seem to notice. Geralt sits down. He takes Jaskier's right hand. It's cold and limp. The knives in Geralt's back don't stop. He wishes they were real, so he didn't have to feel anymore, think anymore... He takes a deep breath, smiles at Jaskier. "I will listen, Jaskier."

#COUGHING #SORRY FOR THE ANGST #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x dandelion #the witcher netflix #im sorry guys #please ...it will get better #i guess?#hehe #this corona is doing things with my brain #i do not recommend reading decameron by boccaccio

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kingofdirtandnothing · 3 years

Text

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Ten

Miles has been lurking. Kinda.

Because lurking is a way nicer way to say he’s been kind of, sort of stalking the cute guy who worked at the flower shop. Because homeboy was tall, and handsome as hell, et cetera, et cetera.

Miles just...needed some time to figure things out. How to go about it. No rushing in half cocked, that’s what his mom would say. Because that’s what Dad would do. And they were trying to keep Dad from doing that.

Which is how Miles ended up Fresh Prince-ing it, and moving from Chicago all the way to Monte Carlo, to try and help his dad. His parents had been divorced since he was five years old, and honestly the thought of them being together was weirder than anything.

Mark had never tried to be his dad, and Miles always appreciated that. He loved Mark like family too, but those were shoes no one else could fill. No matter what ocean was between them. So when Mom started worrying about Dad’s mental health, it made sense for Miles to be the one to step up.

He graduated last year, and this was a free freaking year between high school and college. A year to party and do whatever he wanted, before he buckled down and got his life on track. Chemical engineering degrees weren’t going to get themselves.

And at first, Miles thought about just going for it. Sauntering up in there, handing his phone over to the cute white boy and going ‘hey sexy, call me sometime’. Because if there was one thing Miles was good at, it was getting numbers. And yeah, he could have dropped this whole virginity thing awhile ago if he wanted to, but he was waiting for someone special.

That was Dad’s fault. Mom and Mark told him a whole bunch of times that sex was just something people did, and as long as he was safe with it, that it was En Bee Dee. No big deal. But Dad...Dad talked about love and relationships like they were some kind of fragile antique. That it was worth it to wait for the right person for your first time.

And now he was here, and staying here for at least a year, and every time Miles wound himself up to go spit game at the cute white boy florist, he stopped himself. Because Max (he wore a name tag, it’s not like Miles was some kind of creepy Facebook stalker) had real nice eyes and a pretty smile, and he seemed like a cool ass dude.

You didn’t go in on nice people like that. (Somewhere in the back of his head, he can hear his mom’s voice asking him ‘why would you treat anyone like that, why does their worth define your perception?’ but Miles isn’t listening because he’s eighteen, he can only take so much psychological shit in a day, thanks mom.)

So now Miles was trying to figure out how to do this right. Because it was decided, which maybe he shouldn’t decide shit without actually talking to the guy, but too late. Miles was going to date the cute white boy, and he was going to do everything right, full meet cute and shit, and he was gonna win him over, then get his cherry popped all romantically. It was a Plan. Capital letters and everything.

But he’d never actually done this before, and the books in the romance section in Dad’s shop weren’t super helpful. Probably because most of them were super heteronormative and lame, but Miles had snuck out some pearls of wisdom.

Like...food. Food was always the way to win somebody over. If you were into somebody and they didn’t like food, then you needed to clear the fuck out and find somebody else.

So Miles decided that he was going to win Max over with food. And after an afternoon group chat texting spree with Mark and Mom, who was definitely not working even though she was at work, they decided that Miles cooking at home would be too intense to start off with. Way too much room for rejection. Also, Miles couldn’t cook for shit, so.

Take away. That’s what he was going to start with. The good stuff, from Diego’s, because you had to eat it fast, while it was still warm, so it gave Miles a reason to stick around the flower shop and talk. Then maybe by the time they were done eating, he could drop an ask for Max’s number and walk out of there, smooth as butter.

Now, he just had to survive Diego and get the tacos. Which was easier said than done, because Diego liked to talk mad shit, especially once he realized that Miles spoke Spanish. (And Miles realized that Diego stuttered way less in Spanish, so he dusted off his Rosetta Stone and practiced that shit at night, just to make sure it was all fresh in his mind.)

Thankfully, it was late enough in the afternoon that the line wasn’t too long. Diego’s got mad busy around noon, because everyone knew when he started cooking fresh and they wanted to get the food right off of the grill.

But Miles, he knew the better secret. If you waited for the lunch crowd to thin out and bail, then Diego would have to make stuff fresh for you anyway. Still the same fresh off the grill meat and tortillas, but none of the wait.

Then again, Miles didn’t have a job to get back to, so maybe that had something to do with why his secret tip worked for him and not for anybody else.

“Que pasa, homie!” Miles throws his arms out wide when he steps into the little shop, and is greeted with Diego leaning across the counter to smack knuckles with him, and then pull Miles into one of those single armed hugs that dudes did.

“You’re late today.” Diego glances up at the clock. It’s closer to two than it is to one, and Miles has made a habit of being here about fifteen after one, most days.

“Yeah. I was texting with my mom, you know how it is.” Diego’s eyes are big and brown and warm, lips tugging up into a smile. You wouldn’t live if you said it to his face, but everybody knew Diego was a Class A Mama’s Boy.

“Yeah, for sure.” Diego smacks him in the arm one more time before he turns back to the flat top behind the counter. “Your usual?”

There’s a pang of nerves, like drunk butterflies behind Miles’ ribs. “Two actually.” That gets him a raised eyebrow from Diego. Dad usually ate with M’Baku and James at the book store. And when they ate lunch together, it was almost always at Tony’s. (Because Tony would feed Dad for free, that place was not cheap.)

“Two huh?” It doesn’t take more than a second for Diego to hone in on it. Dude was like a sexy, stuttering shark. “You got a date or something, hermano?”

See, that was tricky. Because Diego was opening the door up to talk shit about him, but he was doing it in a way that made Miles feel warm and fuzzy. What a jerk. “Hopefully.” Fuck it, there was no such thing as too much input. “I’m gonna take it over to the hot guy at the flower shop and see if I can get the digits.” Miles holds up his phone, giving it a little shake.

“Max?” Diego’s laughter is big and bright. If ever there was a dude who guffawed, it was Diego. “Man, I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type.”

See, there it was. Here came the shit talking. But for once, Miles was ready. “Nuh uh, man.” He waggles a finger in Diego’s face, after he shoves his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. “You don’t get to come at me about being white boy thirsty, you hear me?”

That earns him something that’s somewhere between a cough, a laugh and a gurgle, and Diego gives him the finger, chopping the meat up on the grill with the other hand. Yeah, being a mama’s boy wasn’t the only thing Miles knew about Diego. Homeboy had it bad for Klaus across the street.

But Miles can’t leave it at that, and it’s not like he can talk to his parents about this part. They’d just ‘aww’ at him, and he can’t take that. “He’s hot, okay? And he seems nice.” Seems, because Miles has never actually talked to the dude. He just hopes Diego won’t poke holes in his plan, here. They didn’t need a Titanic situation happening.

“Max is cool.” Diego agrees, dumping the meat into the corn tortillas in their red and white checked cardboard containers. “He knows a crazy lot about flowers, too. When I wanted to send some to my mom, he walked me around through there and told me what all the different ones meant, and how people used to send love letters with flowers. That shit was wild, like even the color mattered. Can you imagine? Sneaking somebody a random ass bouquet of flowers but instead of it really being random, you were telling them that you were crazy in love with them and wanted their body.”

Diego hands over the two containers of street tacos, a couple of napkins tucked underneath so that Miles wouldn’t forget. They go easy into Miles’ hands, and his thanks is swallowed up by Diego continuing to talk. “Play it cool, man. I don’t think he gets hit on a lot. So it might take him some time to realize that you’re actually into him. So don’t freak and bail, okay?”

Miles would love to take offense to that, except for the fact that he’s absolutely the kind of dude who would freak out and bail at the first sign of rejection. He had a delicate soul, okay? Fine, fine he could figure it out and power through the teeth grinding mortification of waiting to see if somebody was into you.

“Yeah yeah, I got it. Play it cool.” Miles backs up towards the door, pressing down his left heel and his right toe to do a little about face before he gets the gross, mushy shit out. “Thanks man, you’re the best.”

And of course, his emotional maturity is rewarded with Diego shouting ‘I LOVE YOU BABY, YOU’RE SO GOOD TO ME’ and making obnoxious sucking kissy noises as Miles hurries out of the door and onto the street. Miles could still hear him with the door closed. What an asshole. (Miles loved the shit outta him.)

It’s four buildings down and crossing the street before Miles finds himself in front of the Midgar Flower Shop. And it’s only when he’s standing there that Miles realized he didn’t even check if Max was working today. What the hell was he going to do with extra tacos if Max wasn’t here? Miles couldn’t give them to the pretty brunette, he didn’t want her to get any ideas-

-”Max is inside. I’ll be back in thirty minutes! You guys have fun!” Speak of the adorable devil, Miles swears a blue streak as the pretty brunette pats him on the back and actually fucking skips away from him, her ponytail bouncing in the breeze. Someone really needed to put a bell on her.

Miles pulls in a deep breath and steps inside, all those worried butterflies in his stomach turning into dancing ones when Max looks up from where he was cutting the stems on some flowers, and smiles at him. “Hey. What can I do for you?”

Miles offers over one of the containers of street tacos, his heart sitting high in his throat..

“Diego was having a special.” No he wasn’t. “Buy one, get one free.” He would never. Stepping up to the counter, Miles puts Max’s tacos down, in case he needed to make a swift exit.

“You looked kinda hungry, so I figured I’d see if you wanted them or something.”

#ch: miles #polyfacetious | max #surprise bitch I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me etc etc #v: expats row #queued #carlota's christmas drabbles

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